Automatic No More

I look forward to the day when money is no more
For the mail to deliver and the papers keep score
Meaningless doors to open or not
The groceries are empty and I welcome the thought
What things are left all whole and working?
The ones who welcome the beings of choosing?
I hope to trample the humans of doing, and all the banks will fall to the floor
I see forward to automatic no more

The Journey

He carries the golden weights upon his shoulders and walks upon the grassy path. Flowers and colors of want border the way. Brown spots of envy and mounds of regret stagger his walk, yet he continues on wandering, heaving the golden weights, positioning them so that he is comfortable and balanced. His back grows tired and sore, yet he looks forward, meandering, following the green grassed road. All the colors and view are beautiful with sounds of God and scenes of hate along the way. He's not discouraged, maintains his course and sees the journey for what it is. The golden weights will be delivered.

Live Loud

There's a moment of godlike being in everyone's life
Separate from the collective consciousness of noise, sounds of doubt, envy, fear that turns to hate
Late... too late when realized
Considered fantasy, selfish and crazy
The populous is lazy
Remember those moments and become that which scares you
Love in lieu
Fear far from view
It will be lived loud and forever
Deaf to the never

A Moment In Time

Janus the Roman god for which the month January is named was the god of gates and doorways. This god is represented with two faces; one facing forward and one facing back.  As we enter January it is our opportunity to look both forward and back, to enter a moment in time.
Our future depends on our past and as we leave the past behind, look back and travel in our imaginary space capsule called "The Present", we drag a little residue of the past with us. A souvenir so to speak to remind us of experiences both good and not so good. But we must be careful not to carry too many souvenirs as they will weigh us down and burden our spaceship, "The Present". Some things are better left behind and forgotten. We must simply watch from the rear view window of  "The Present"  and wave good bye to those things that are too heavy to bring along. Those things left behind may have their own future and to bring them along may bind us to that. So let it go and just watch it fade away from view until you can't remember what it looked like, felt like.
As we turn to face forward in our space craft and gaze out the window we see laid before us a vast almost infinite future of possibilities. Those of us who are lucky enough to realize "The Present" can be steered in all directions, will feel boundless joy and freedom.
We can look back for reference, look back at our starting point and plot a course to where we are going but "The Present" doesn't have a navigation system. "The Present" moves along on whatever course she wants. We can only steer in the moment, but that is the beauty of The Present. She can be steered in any direction at any moment. The choice is ours.

Happy New Year!

Skittles

I remember when we brought you home and you hid behind the dryer
I never wanted you
With eyes dilated black and wide as the universe you sucked me in
You knocked everything down that could break from the highest possible places
I remind myself you're not my responsibility
And then I take you to the vet to remove all your parasites and drain your abscesses
I don't appreciate the carcasses of rodents, birds and reptiles you leave at the doorstep
Why do you always leave the liver?
I hate liver
In the middle of the night on my way to take a leak you're under my feet
You gently remind me with teeth, claws and a soul wrenching baby scream that I just stepped on your tail
I'm bleeding now
Later you lay on my lap and try to kneed my scrotum into a pillow
You purr and snuggle
What do you want from me?
You play with inanimate round objects and try to look cute
You lick the butter with your wormy tongue and drink from the toilet
You rub against my legs with affection, but I know you're just marking your territory 
You're trying to make me yours because I won't have anything to do with you
You own me

Good Morning

Amber blue horizon hue, tree lined mountain green
A silhouette scene
The sun meets west, departs the rest and leaves the past behind
Future dawning a world in spawning
I see a day begin
An infant moment with all possible ways
A potential everlasting play

Werd!

I lost my sence of spell
A riteing blok as well
I hear and taste and feel and see but all theese werds make no sence to me
They sowd kine da runny and shapt sorta funny
They leeve me with drie mowth and eyes
The rools of grammer and punk chew way shun make me want to cry
A E I O U arvowls and make the sowds of bow wells
And Y is a constanit that seems kine da in calm pit tent wen it be cums sum thing els