Tag: 2025

I live here but this is not
my home.

I spend all day with these
people but they are
not my family. 

I labor relentlessly,
hour after hour
after hour,
but
build,
nourish,
create, complete,
accomplish, sustain,

nothing.

I give my body
willingly (reluctantly),
stoically (not indifferently)

to the machine,
to be consumed

vertically, top to bottom
a whore

(in between the numbers)

to
feed
my family,

to
be as
obsequious
as I need to be,

to
yes sir,
right sir,
right away sir,

until I'm allowed to go home.

What it takes from me
is no longer replaced,
and yet I have
no regrets,
having
no
other
option.

Threads are all I have these days.

I hang onto them with both hands
even if there's no way out
of this maze.

I wind them together if I get two,
or braid them if I get three,
but there's never
enough
to weave into
the fabric of a better life.

Sometimes I only have one
and then I make
nothing
at all.

I just hold on.

Hour after hour. Day after day.
Paycheck after paycheck.

I gave up food thinking I could
hold onto hope.
Now I have
neither
and
a
heating bill to pay.

The intensity of my daydreams
can't save us. (I'm no wizard).

They grant me only the burst
of the matchstick,
one
after
another.

Pff, pff, pff.

If you can't help my family
I no longer have
the time
or
the energy
to listen to you.

In fact, I no longer have
to listen
at all,

I
only
have to endure.

I endure with dignity.

I sacrifice pride,
entitlement,
self pity,
and
every
illusion
that has ever
tricked me into
walking a false path.

I need to know where I stand
even if it's only in front
of a mirror
with
black eyes.

I'm haunted.
Dogged by fear.

It walks with me, sleeps with me,
eats with me. I can't shake
it anymore,
there's
no
escape.

It's etched itself on my face
deeper than any scar.

I treasure every good moment
knowing it'll never come again.

I treasure every good moment
knowing there may never
be another.

I forgive everything else.

I live here, pared away from
my home, from
who I am
and
where
I belong,
from all good
and beautiful things,
from wholeness,
duty, obligation,
satisfaction.

I leave the best of myself
behind when I'm here.
I am what's left.

I give everything I have.
I am what's left.

I have nothing for anyone else.
I am what's left.

If there's a way out I will find it.
If there's a way out.
I will.

December 3, 2025

My lips taste like salt on a cloudy
day in mid-November.

Snow sugars the fake slats
of the fake alpine cottage
across the highway,
a diner or an outlet,
I've never known.

It's a good omen when
it snows in mid-November.

A righting of a balance upturned
by summer migraines and heat stress.

I'm warm today and that's all
that matters. I can feed my family
today and that's all that matters.

I'm a ghost here, an indifferent
spectator of decay. I've stopped
caring. I'm okay today and
that's all that matters.

Silent.

My feet bled white by the unyielding
counter pressure of concrete.

One more day,
I've got one more day
to meet his unflinching gaze,
to listen to his interior retort,
to smile at his outrageous claims,
to laugh at his dark wit,
to play along if I have the wisdom.

Or melt into the floor beneath
the burden of his misery.

Either way, the one will follow
on the heels of the other and
I'll find myself looking through
a one-way mirror wondering
how I ever did without.

I never will.

I've earned my ring in reverse,
as we all do, and there is no world
without him, not for me.

I look out through two panes of glass
at the mid-November snow.

I'm an island. Isolated. Drowning
in an ocean of strangers. There
is no sun, only a uniformity of gray.

My heart is free to return, and for
the moment my thoughts.

Tonight my body will follow.

And like the feather in the dove's tail
it'll all make sense again and I'll
fold this away for another day
and remember who I am.

November 13, 2025

i'd rather learn to live with hunger
than learn to live without hope

October 23, 2025

My mind is free.
The machine does not own me.

October 4, 2025

When you labor for a stranger
you are a slave.

When you labor for your family
you are free.

October 4, 2025

Songs are what you sing, music is what you make. Copyrighted noise is artificial gay and fake.

October 4, 2025

The law does not apply to them.
They pay no taxes.
They don't participate in "the economy."
They don't eat the food you eat.
They don't drink the water you drink.
They don't take the drugs you take.
They have a hand in everything you see and hear: television, movies, news, video games, social media, music, books, education.
They own every politician.
They control every government, every corporation, every military, every university. 
They shape every religion.
They fund every scientific and medical study and vet the results.
They sell every pharmaceutical, vaccine, pesticide, poison, and processed food.
Their sport is the rape, torture, and murder of children.
They supply you with everything you think you want, everything you think you need.
They are to whom your ancestors bequethed you, in a fit of agony or avarice.
Condemn no more generations to be sacrificed to them.
Be no more a host for them.
Expose them.
Deny them what sustains them.
They have nothing you need.
They have nothing you truly want.
Find what you need outside of the artificial world they have constructed for you.
Find what you want, inside yourself.
Give them nothing to feed on.
Know your enemy.
Expose them. Name them.
Face your enemy.
Don't look away.
Deny them and they will disappear.
Deny them and you will be free.

September 29, 2025

Money is fake.
Labor is real.

Changing labor to money
is how the money changers steal.

September 29, 2025

Our gods are not always kind.
Our gods are not always
where we are.

Our gods are sunlight through
the trees at dawn, an ever-
present light
obscured
by
one leaf
or another,
fueled by an eternal
engine propelled by devotion.

To thank them is to turn them
into strangers who hold
open doors,
and
even if they
hold open doors,
they are never strangers.

Seek instead to spend wisely
their gifts and to look
them in the eyes,
not as equals
but
to
shed all
illusions as to
desire and sacrifice.

Be direct and so be directed,
shot like an arrow loosed
from Skadi's bow
stretched
across
the
morning sky,
without hesitation
or remorse, and
when the
leaves
fall
like
stars
you will hear
their whispered reply.

September 22, 2025

You must LOOK UP to see
the blue sky path.

You must LOOK UP.
Am I crazy?

I am crazy.
I carry this boat on my back
as we float along on
this inverted
river.

The blue sky path is a promise.
The blue sky path is a promise
kept and a promise yet
to be kept.

You must LOOK UP.
You must LOOK UP
to
walk
the blue sky path.

Everywhere I've gone I have
loved the birds, I have
loved the trees.

They have loved me back
in the only way nature
has of loving you
back,
in
the
warm
breath of spring,
in the taste of summer
and autumn in the same
mouthful, in the bitter
bite of winter that
reminds you
that
it
all
comes
to an end.

You have to look up.

There is no other way.
You have to look up
to see
the
blue sky path,

even in the darkness,
even in the rain.

Remember: the blue sky path
does not stop here.

The blue sky
path passes
through
here,
but
it
does
not stop here.

You can drown or
you can look up.

You can close your eyes or
you can look up.

You can keep asking
questions
to
which
you already
know the answer or
you can look up.

LOOK UP.
Stalwart souls! LOOK UP.

We are mad, more often than not.
When we're not, we suffer.

So look up. Look up and walk
the blue sky path
with me,
with
us.

We are not alone.
Not anymore.

Not for
a
very
long time.

Longer than
you can remember. 

Look up and you will remember.

September 22, 2025