Elgee

I like to see life as it is,
with no mystery,
no grand illusion,
as much as it may appear.

Ideas of our invention
harbor greater meaning.
Our delusions,
an explanation-
light of ourselves.

Take a look at a past self,
do you see you today?

Evolution takes its toll,
we grow into greatness.
Not everyone,
some turn back to some strange slime.

As you can wager the guess,
I recognize them
as much as a perfect stranger.

Sort of like being sick. . .
Snot dripping from your nose,
two panda eyes, mouth ajar to breathe.
Perhaps a hunch in your back
to keep your head from aching.

Yet there's something I've seen before.

Everything's an adjustment for comfortable living,
what about when you're not comfortable anymore?

Cynicism

Some will poke your bruises,
then laugh when you say ouch.

Turn your back to them.

Sit alone,
say a silent
no thank you.

No matter how low their lows,
yours can lay lower.

Getting a kick on the ground
can kick start the evil in anyone.

When you throw insults out as hits,
it's hard to say if, or when you'll stop.

Ha, Oops!

I watch my thoughts
flow from my mouth
and float around the room.

I'd like to see them entering your ears,
but I know it's a far-fetched idea.

The concept of hearing's easy.
Listening's a different story,
let's forget understanding all-together.

Comprehension may be key,
but damn,
I must be incomprehensible!

To Begin With

Reality idle,
behind you dangles
the hanging man.

 A reminder-
what you recollect,
has become a chronic dead-eye.

My mind boggling me,
questions everything
I thought I knew.

I never knew anyone,
or anything.

Couldn't Hurt

Credit holds a mystery:
Marked down as a misery.
Of how we're unfit to understand
how to give ourselves enough.

Yet, the dim witters gather more attention:
Than honesty, hard work,
and the choice to do good-
gather praise.

No one reflects on righteous acts.
Fools as essential, as salt- a spice.

And there's this snippet he said-
childish petulance:
It played us like tiny toy soldiers,
and we treat one another as such.

Lost connection with the company who keep us.
Focused on flipping the world,
failing to see what's on our own streets.

Whatever it could be, humanity has become:
Whether rich, convenient, ungrateful, or miserable-
step outside yourself.

Tough Love's Tough

So many of us live with the lame attempt
at re-living our pasts.
It's a broken attempt
at avoiding the future.
A futile attempt
at avoiding attention to the present.

I can't be the only one sick
of seeing adults act like children.

Take your nostalgia goggles off…
Get off the couch.
Grow up…
Get a job.

Something, or anything to break
the state of mind holding you here.

I know it's attempt to fill some emptiness,
but the past lies, twenty years gone.

Dwelling so long only makes the void greater.

Anti-War Path

You have the choice to be benevolent
in any way you wish.

The power to build character;

To lift yourself out
of the pit of an invented misery.

Have a heart,
feed the hungry.

To pick up plastic
drifting to ocean shores.

Clothe children
in chilling winter months.



Despite everything or everyone-
no one has the power to stop you!

Why would they?

A Question For the Ages

Writers need be
the creators of new cliche's.

Our common grounds,
adverse,
we've heard each one bathe in cynicism.

They're a subtle melody
of melancholy in the ear.

Society fails to change.

Dead philosophers, scholars,
and poets who convey truth.
They conveyed it best.
Forgotten,
a million years behind,
messages,
hints to heart,
truth mattered.

To each of them a purpose,
and what of us?

Suffering from insomnia:

How're we to be...
A gleam of light-
from 3 A.M. darkness?

There Is No Step Ahead

Unwashed white lace,
a place I disconnect
at the altar of
"I told you so."

Oh, black lace,
where I belong,

playing games with
your toy trains of thought.

You can not distinguish a single stain,
a fabric of white lace would show.

Could control be advantageous,
I'd use it to build your backbone.

Then watch your spine stand strong
through each train wreck.

I'd tone your character
with the quality of endurance.

Denial has the strength to create
the world's largest monstrosity.

Don't Be the Meat

Staring into oblivion at your own expense.
Carrying on, in combat with yourself.

Control, the stiff, jagged elephant on stilts.
Become the raggedy chest of drawers.
Or the woman with the meat, propped up on her crutches.
Dangle your offering before the world.

You aspire to run out of view, then hide for none to seek.
Glued within your migrant way, and the subtlety of sitting tight.

No one speaks of admiration:

Honest hands of youth.
Abundance, a home in your heart, has to offer.
Open up, tilt her over, let those drawers spill out onto the floor.
Combust, Giraffe, so everyone can see!

Rather, they'd watch clocks melt on the walls until daylight has run out.
Then find a candle flicker in the blackness of the ticking.
See its light glitter for a moment, dull out, then extinguish.

Blinded, awaiting the anxiety, of another's exclusion.