The Rodent

Supplicants need not apply

We are looking for tough stuff

Muscle on those bones

You do not care

Nigh

You cannot care

What the hell man

Please

Thank you

Sorry

What the hell kinda language is that

This ain’t no god’damned church

Or your mama’s tea party

This is the real world

And if you don’t bring the “A” game

Then you gotta go hide

Go play with those apron strings

Go away little man

Go away little man

Cause this world is for those who believe in one thing

That you serve only me

And that I am the only right

And that you shall fight for me

The way I say it

So can you do that boy

Can you do it

Speak up

Are you a man or a mouse?

“well, I like cheese”

Bungling Buddha Bums

They laugh and prod these two lazy bums

Working (yeah right) in their respective worlds

The winter sun unusually hot

Visions of frosts blocked by pane

Wandering their homes

From meditative to contemplative to vegetative

And over again

Our monks doth doff of their cloth

Naked masters over their world

Privacies shared through reflective prayer

Sun worships, moon celebrants

Curled cats from room to room

And across the wires

I know what you are wearing

And good on you for your proud bearing

Dose of Real

What up?

It certainly isn’t down

Believe it

From riches to rags

I am suddenly richer

Exhilarating freedom

From the yoke

And some time joke

A promise of better things

Guarantees no one will lose work

But my work it is not lost

Save only to the one who didn’t wish it

My beliefs they are so very sound

Command and control will fall

To the arms and the minds and the hearts

Of those who will own it

And they will own it

Because the others

They do not deserve us

And I will reveal

And I will revel

As I paint this town red

And look at each direction

And marvel at oysters

And send blessing and thanks

To the people I love

And the people who do love me

And the people who will love me

We change no change to change

Really

sad lad

so far away

feeling

            nothing

where does it all go?

it hurts doesn’t it?

doesn’t            

it hurt me

no

yet the absence is real

i miss

                        you!

                        i do

i miss

                        us

                        i will

Looking Passed

She sits in her chair

Wheeled to this spot to wait

Enforced patience

Patient or not

Her alabaster skin is beautiful

Pale and translucent

This tall woman needs no make-up

Her shoulder length blond hair

Beautifully brushed long and straight

Her rigid body strapped to her chair

Slightly angled pillows wedged beneath her side

Bright purple and red

In contrast to her simple brown coat

Her mouth held open

A forever scream state

Tongue moving to hold her dignity

No sound to ever return to this world again

There is a twinkle in her eye

A celebration of the activity around her

The children playing near her feet

The exhausted happy look of a new mother

A new father, and a new life

The sadness of the bereaved

Loss real, love swelled

And a husband returns

He kisses her fully and passionately

She is still his, he is still hers

The love in their eyes

Only for each other

Crossing all barriers, all challenges

They will endure

To the last

As life is passed

Nein One-One

Please state the nature of your emergency

Oh the commentary I could fill your head with

Of the people who have done so much wrong

And perhaps the retaliation as lame as it is

Ignorance by ignoring would be my mark in life then

Wouldn’t it?

So dear operator it would seem I have lost track of my heart

In fact I am not certain I have ever had one

Is this a point of concern or the simple facts ma’am

I am a one I am says I, a narcissistic fool of life

Knowledge of my place in this world has become quite clear of late

And frankly it is criminal.

To provide such observational understanding of the human condition

To see the math and the science and the logic of typical life

And then deny the constance of relational connection

Well that is just wrong.

And what of physical connection, isn’t that a Maslow conspiracy

As a member of this species I require such connection

And am deserving of such attention as I should like to also give

Yet cannot or could not because I am not a connecting human

Well not connecting in the manner desired of the body of the genus

What is the nature of my emergency?

I am a one wanting a one who will remain with this being

Aware of the who and the what and I am not always a where

But there is good stuff in here

Clay to be molded

And while rigid I am malleable

For the right person

No emergency but an urgency to fulfill my human destiny

I hope

Dear Pat Rooney

Actually my dear you don’t understand

Love and appreciation is not a learned art

It is natural and simply there

If you have to work at it because you have this insane need to “know”

Then you do me

And my art

A disservice

You feel you love my art

But you analyze too deeply

Trying to find my psyche

The psyche is out here Pat Rooney

If you cannot find the art naturally

Should you feel a need to analyze constantly

Because you need to connect to me

Then you do you

And yours

A disservice

Work for you Pat Rooney, not for me

Sincerely

LN