Got a Question for You

If I fuck with mother nature, does that make me a rebelious child?
If born out of wedlock, does that mean God didn't sign off on this world?
Or does it negate Him altogether?
Do we transform our DNA over a lifetime, or does it transform us?
Is popularity just a group of people that all decided to exclusify themselves?
Why do we pay athletes millions of dollars to play as gods out on their respective turf?
Does the term raincheck mean anything to you? Does it get tossed around too much? Overused?
Will we run out of stock and supplies? Or will robots fill in the gaps through genetic engineering?

Self-checkout has become repulsive.
Exclusive group do far more damage than good.
You're not inspired to chase your own dream. You'd rather watch someone else do it for you.
Selfish, self-righteous, tyrants of the modern age.
Our voice is hoarse, coarse at best like the grind of my pepper. Harsh to the taste when all alone.
We are beyond alone, in the other direction, trying to prove loneliness as a great way of living.
With sex dolls and self-checkout and peapod and amazon and netflix streaming into
our retinas 24/7.

If not currently viewed, it can be discussed in detail.
Well, here is my disgust...in detail.
I vomit in the face of a nation so blind that I fear my flickering of the lights will do no good.
Useless.
Is procreation a declaration of sorts?
Can anything be taken too far? Or is our comprehension level that of a gradeschooler?
Just want our turn in the sandbox to make our own personal castle.
Can you take one minute of your fucking day to pay respect and love, and honor your mother and father?

As the songwriter questioned, "Are we running out of love?"
I hope for the best, but fear the worst.

Pastor's Kid

Teeming, I dream experimental to drudge through luggage left for me, 

yet to be claimed.

An item got lost in transit, which is no matter, because 

our problems always get delivered to our doorstep the following business day.

Tried to weigh it on the scale for shipment,

only to find no numerical value. 

Unquantifiable, apparently.

If you "know a Guy", it might ship out faster,

but either way they're all headed to the same location.

Hook, line, and sinker like a salesman,

sauntering about in your casual Friday dress.

Telling the world of another world you've gotten a sneak preview of.

A mere apology, I offer, if we don't seem interested.

Just got off a long flight and we're quite tired.

Does empathy or sympathy exist in this other world you speak of?

Is there plantlife?

Good soil?

Could I grow a garden?

All fair questions, that get answered abstractly

as if the the salesman ignored you question altogether.

I heard it across the hall, over seas, whispered on the train

from one city to the next.

Separation and segregation is what we grow up with

like "Facts of Life" or "Full House" or "Friends".

Even those are old now, but I never made an effort to change my bedding.
Wrapped myself up all insolent and "innocent" of such dissonance.

I embodied such an abstract answer as this, only when

I turned around to take the next flight out.

No innocence, just persaverence and education from hard knocks.

Grasping a concept only when I held my baggage with my own two hands.

Don't spit in my face to spout poetry from your self-righteous idealogy.

Never forget the human.

Never forget a face.

For the next one may be God.

Free Solo Me

Time is like a manmade pond.We're constantly fishing for something unnatural. 

Lost all breath on the way down, fully submerged with a fate resting upon this

here oxygen tank. I'd prefer to hold my breath thank you very much.

Drowning used to be my biggest fear.
Now it just appears to be a part of life.

Coming to shore as driftwood, forgotten off-shoots once a part of something marvelous.

Where has fear gotten me?

Look at the rock face bare its teeth, spitting out numbers, grades of difficulty.

Scale a ledge and all of a sudden am able to easily play a live set.

Fear has gotten me nowhere, neither has suppression of thought/feeling.

This is where it gets tricky...

It's like dad just wanting to have a catch again, but I refuse, because

I believe i've grown out of such things. Moved on. 

Claimed independent on my taxes.

If life after death meant we could only live off of rationed experience...

my tongue would go dry from lack of tears to supplement my thirsty soul.

In the moment I mistook the momentary bliss of silence.

Music hinges upon the rests.

There's plenty of fish in the sea, but mom keeps calling me extraordinary.

Filling the plate for a lifetime does not give me much to chew on.

SO I create bones to pick and pain like quid to meet my quota.

Hash out the irrational in the morning, for I know it will return by midday.

If we abuse every fibre of our being, and in return, are commended for it...

Where the hell do we stand?

Motionless, emotionless, Alex's eyes are transfixed by El Capitan. 

Rubble removed, along with the rope.

Fear and love awaken only to be suppressed and compressed

into an inaudible sound.

Live in fear of death, but love its scent.

We're so cushioned with life preservers now, there's no chance of drowning.

While we're at it, let's fill the water with chemicals to get high off of.

I am able to fly if I perceive there to be no pond.

However, once we're all floating, I no longer know how to reach you.

Alex appears light-years away, off in distant space. 

I too can relate with an emotionless gait. 

But each climber is quite different.

There is always a consequence, even if we acheive our dreams.

Road Rules (Please Listen)

Navigating the streets with Maria got me thinking

There’s laws in place that prohibit you from drinking

While on the road, driving to and fro, fast or slow

We often turn left or right in a fit of rage or take it with ease

As if to feel a soft breeze. Either way I am not a predictor

Of such movements that should have a simple indicator

Accompaniment...I’m referring of course to the blinker.

Let me explain to you what this is because many drivers

Seem to have forgotten some of the fundamentals.

It’s simple, really. By your wheel there is typically a small arm

On the side which moves up or down. Once moved, it

Creates a repetitive sound. One I beatbox to so as to not become

Frustrated with it’s persistency. It’s a reminder of the urgency of

Such an action and the emergency one could cause if they refuse

To use this necessary tool. To say it takes too much effort is foolish.

You, yes you, driver in front of me...I beg and plead of you to stop with

The whiplash and heart attack inducing stops and maneuvers with

Not a single note to signal me of said action. It’s infuriating to say the least.

Dangerous most of all and plain stupid to refuse. Please, oh Please, use your

Blinker. Do it for the good of society and acknowledgement that you’re not

The only one on the road. We’re all trying to get from A to B safely.

I’ve gotten so upset with this carelessness, but still, I’ll ask politely.

Use your blinker.

Pocket Fucker

Passing by the crowds, couldn’t help but yell out loud, rape in the first degree.

It’s non-consensual, big softies for a hard drive, driving Siri crazy with our

Constant questioning. Pissing ourselves silly with power in our pocket, clearly

Over-compensating for something. Is that a smartphone in your hands or are

You just unhappy to see me? Parents provide an otter box for protection as

children slide their fingers deep down, and back up again, salivating at the sound

Of notes and moans bellowed from below. Not knowing the ropes for the sails on

This boat. Sea men and women cry alike as a wave of lost souls capsize the ship.

Shit, the flip phone kept us more afloat than this stream on the down low we

Download with nothing to say when services render and it’s time to pay. Delayed

Gratification like a whorehouse an hour away. Wifi died, so slow, panties up in a

Bunch on the floor. Give it to me or i’ll make a scene for the credits of this porno.

Blow the whole thing out of proportion with emotion and emoticons and strap

On the breastplate of self-righteousness. Dexterous delinquents waiver with

The task at hand...Jobs all macabre to the degenerative generation turned on by robots.

Knowledge is Power...ful

Anxiety, depression, plaguing us completely un-announced. Not very polite. It is an animal that feeds, most of the time without us even realizing it. Just as we feed off of information, it too will do the same, but it will twist it and wring it out until there's not a single drop left. Our culture's idea of an education is skewed, which results in stressful lifestyles that ironically will lead to both anxiety and depression. And for what purpose? To advance us as a nation? Or to puff ourselves up to showcase biceps not made of steel, but air? Obtaining and researching and absorbing information is crucial, but what we do with that information is just as important.

For myself, I recognize that I will get various "highs" from information, but just as alcohol gives me that initial buzz, it slowly filters into a self-destructive state. I'm like all the rest, jumped on the bandwagon of "podcasts" and I love it. I'll throw them on and listen whilst doing other simple tasks and chores throughout the day. It's nice, it's peaceful, and it feels like a purpose-filled way to use my time and do a bit of multi-tasking. I can wash dishes AND learn about how my brain works, or what others are doing with their lives, how novel. The danger comes when I obtain said information through my ear, only to be relinquished through my mouth later on to impress someone or give a false appearance. In the end, the dishes don't fully get washed, and I am sadly none the wiser. Hours later though, if you were to ask, I'd say I had quite the productive afternoon. Sometimes it's not even a problem of misusing the information, but simply not obtaining in the first place. I receive it one ear, it skips past the mouth, and goes right on out the other ear. Like drinking something I like the taste of only to spit it back out, never really consuming anything.

Let us learn from Willy Wonka, who introduced the idea of a land where everything was edible. It's a magical idea, no doubt, but it doesn't actually seem that far off from reality. Everything surrounding us has a way of being consumed in one way or another. And we'd be lying if we said we didn't have a little Augustus Gloop in us, always leaning towards that chocolate river. Hell, it looks good. Who can say no to chocolate? It naturally has caffeine that we could use as energy to move forward, but if made into say, a brownie, iit will promote lethargy and become counter-productive. Enlightened thinkers down the line rarely made note of their own knowledge or success, instead they used it as fuel for discoveries and cures and they constantly wrestled with the fact that there was always more to learn.

It's a wonderful truth really, that there's always more to learn, more to gather and more to acheive. We can't escape this nor should we try. But moving forward and progress are important actions we can all seem to agree on. The method and mode of this, just as our educational system or government could suggest, is a bit skewed. Who's to say what moving forward really looks like? In Bill Bryson's book 'A Short History of Nearly Everything', he details, well, a little buit of everything from the past all the way to the present. Remarkably and humorously, he comes to the conclusion, despite all of the information we've obtained, that we don't actually know very much. "The fact is, there is a great deal, even at quite a fundamental level, that we don't know - not least what the universe is made of. When scientists calculate the amount of matter needed to hold things together, they always come up desperately short. It appears that at least 90 percent of the universe , and perhaps as much as 99 percent, is composed of Fritz Zwicky's 'Dark Matter' - stuff that is by nature is invisible to us. It is slightly galling to think that we live in a universe that for the most part we can't even see, but there you are". And here we are, moving forward, or so we'd say. I'm afraid remark could use a little perspective.

Hardly am I trying to argue against all the progress that has been made down the line, but again, what we do with information and/progress can be just as important as the thing itself. But acknowledging  that we don't understand everything can be a helpful platform in and of itself. For in this way we are less likely to fool ourself and become delusional in thought and action. This can happen on a grand scale and also a minute one. A belief of superiority and "correct" thinking over another country can lead to war. Meanwhile, the belief that a red dot on my arm is most certainly proof of a rare disease that must be eradicated for me to get back to 'status quo'. Our bodies, and i'd say our minds, are always working to acheive homeostasis. This balance is important for our survival. If we consume what is around us, absorb the nutrients, and then actively pursue further working off of what we have ingested to better the people around us, and also to take care of ourselves, we're certainly moving forward by my definition.

When we tap into this world we don't understand, we might be all too shocked what comes out of it. Hang in there, it's all too shocking for me too. But I'd never want to dis-illusion myself otherwise. When introduced with a powerful force, there will no doubt be trembling and resitance. We must all work together in moving forward and acknowledging that we don't fully understand everything. In our personal doubts and fears, may this give us peace, and may we find rest in not knowing or having complete control. For knowledge is power...ful. 

Swimming the English Channel With Foreign Subtitles

I can't help but notice a soul decrepit

These things we call normal rarely ever fit

Laces I loop like all of the rest

People lacking shoes most certainly protest

My lack of awareness and understanding

Causing words that jump without ever landing

The laces I tie always so loose

Two bunny ears each wrapped up like a noose

Tripping and stumbling I reach for a handle

Such a small world does not hold a candle

To the one at large we shoo like a fly

Wafting a scent, our ears close our eyes

A call to arms is what some suggest

Consciously i'm subconscious at best

Thoughts like t-shirts we try on for size

Matching our soles wrapped up so tight

Laughter trickles down and out through my nose

Counting the cons while rattling prose

A blow to the noggin might make one concussed
Divisive issues are symptoms to discuss
Joked to be only the setting on a washer
The mismatched clothes all end up in the water
So our feet will march to a brand new tune
Not saying a word, but embodying truth.