Druthers

I’d rather be elsewhere, out of this abyssal dream; for no longer could the woulds of yesterday propel me onward down this path.

To remain asleep would be akin to self-preservation but also equal its death.

I’d rather speak not, as my eyes open; for in this moment I can see more than words could become expressions.

To say that which cannot be described in speech would convolute its very meaning.

I’d rather wonder, rather than know; for knowing would mean no longer imagining.

To cease creative thought would mean to burst the bubble of divine inspiration.

I’d rather be awake rather than not be, would rather see rather than speak and would rather think rather than cease to inspire.

In The Distance

Of all of thought which I forgot there lies inside that place I hide

A feeling like skin peeling after burning light has scorched the night

And when the sense makes a presence I’ll wonder will my nerves be still

Enough for now and maybe later which ever feeling may be greater

I’ll want to stay inside that place in far off worlds in outer space

Calling me back will be the wonder if I’d stayed or gone asunder

And when that time will want to climb up to the sky where I will lie

Would I be want to ever taunt the classless eye of souls that haunt

Not open eyes but closed they’ll rise to meet the shifting dreams uplifting

In the distance where I belong with great insistence proves you wrong

For I won’t return to what’s below instead bestow that up I’ll go

So try you might to bring me down and as my right I will not drown in sorrow not in pain not tomorrow not again

Just let me be as great as ever quickly cut the rolling tether of dismay before too late

Yet I digress

In the distance lies my bestest dress

The one with pearls where lace unfurls with gilded trim where red will brim creating heaps of gossamer tides in mountainous sweeps

Let the stars shine as they’ll all be mine and give light to the distance despite resistance

For if I go and not return my memory itself will burn deep in your mind an etched diamond glow encased in a vase where love would once grow but now no longer

I’ll not wonder why but wonder will you have my visage still a ghostly veil of a long lost tale

In the distance you can see me but in the distance you’re not near me

Paying for Pop

Woeful is the infantile view of the world sold to the masses as a cure for too many thoughts on the mind disease.

Yoga is another way to get vertigo for life, each pose more useless and harder on the body than the last.

Low carb no carb paleo gluten MSG laced fodder for fads, everybody’s buying the next miracle berry.

Mass media and pop culture have a solution for everything and another one for every side effect.

What are you subscribing to today?

None

What I saw today on social media,
really shook me to the core,
it’s a sob story, a God story,
and it made me hit the floor.

You see, a man found another man
digging through trash,
and he offered to feed him
with the help of God.

So the man with the money
took the man with none,
bought him McDonald’s
and then he was done.

Before departing, the man with enough learned
that the homeless one was dying
of a growth in his side,
and then began crying;

Oh, God, thank you Jesus,
today we both pray,
that you take this man with you
by the end of the day.

So the wealthy man rose and quickly ran home,
so he could tell all of his friends of all of his wealth,
and warn that we should all be more thankful
and blessed for the things that we have.

But what of that man, the man who had none,
did God take him to the hospital,
lay with him or hold his hand as he died,
out in the street, with none by his side?