On the Elite of the Countries & Nations

This world is full of undue significance
Values parodied and profit personified
It’s not sustainable and won’t last

It’s the receipt of doom before
Our last meal, the anarchy has begun
And I don’t even dream anymore

About getting married, having children
In a world like this, of extravagance
Where you or I are replaceable

Only existing to fuel consumerist growth
Art is dead, literature is in denial
The crickets still sing, the sun still sinks

But the world has changed
In bronze and blaze, in false media
And politics ripe with corruption

And leaders whom I can imagine
Have rhetoric of profit and change once again.

Independence Day Poem

The patriots are stuck fooling themselves
There are no nations, only corporations
Governments who manipulate the people

The peasants are conditioned
By a state-run media, the officials are bought
With pomp and parade, you will be duped

Into thinking your Country is the best
But these borders no longer exist
The bonfires and illuminations

These Independence Day shows
Is to cover a corrupt police-state
An oligarchy where the same clans

Inherit the vote, the idea of great nations
Is the greatest myth, China and the United States
Thrive due to the control they exhibit

On their peoples, the psychological control
The creation of “terror” enemies
To perpetuate their greed, all for stars and stripes

On flags, or for expansion of a culture
That personifies all that is glamorous and fake
The presidents do not preserve our dignity

In a system that promotes an individualism
That is the buying into a mechanism of slavery
Slavery to possessions, slavery to inequality
Slavery to a false sense of superiority
If that is patriotism, I want no part in it.

America the Illiterate

I want to go on beyond words
But language stumbles in me and I am
A prisoner to her gateway of being
I open it to arrive at duality

Without Oneness, where can I pass?
Into machine worlds of simulation
Into holographic organic imagination
Into symbolic abstractions that are

Fountains of light in the dark of matter
Words go roundabout and arrive forever
In a kind of disassociate state of
Of object and subject, doing and scene

That separation doesn’t really exist
It’s part of the linear illusion of the brain’s
Incapacity to understand the cosmos
From multiple frames of reference

In senses which we do not possess
To see dimensions, possibilities, variables
So I am trapped in a kingdom of micro pronouns
A pigeon-eye view of the same layers

A public square of the corruption of men
In a futile marketplace of bartering
Where people profit over others
And art in literature has long since

Become unfashionable for being less glamorous
People stopped truly communicating
Rather they are watchers of videos, images, screens
There’s too few Socratic questions and

And discourses of platos’ and emersons’
There’s no Nietzsche in the youth of today
Only the boring pragmatism of American determinism
A language of impoverished politics and

A caricature of news, of an enormous campaign
To make the masses dumb, and it’s worked.

Question & Answer

Question & Answer

We are the not famous poets
We celebrate the common person

Black, Hispanic, Chinese, gay, Trans, Disabled
Senior, teenager, semi-homeless, poor, impoverished
Please excuse this poem

A poem has no right to make a dollar today
Only to celebrate the breathless holiday
Of art, the tragedies of living

The news doesn’t talk about
The violence in impoverished lands
Where billions have no enforcement of law
They talk about the privileged

It’s a state of affairs run by the entitled
Were you born in an entitled nation?
Where you have the luxury of

Talking about God or the state or art
There are human beings out there
Who if they wrote a poem it would be

About survival, about how not to be
Drowned by immigrant traffickers
Off the coast of Italy, or how

To move to a county with some semblance
Of prosperity, those would be words
Worth hearing, but how many have no voice.

Open Invitation

Like Air & Water

Hello, I wish we would have connected earlier
We should meet in another life
We should meet in air

Me and you, with a new world between us
In loving people too much, or not enough
I felt the scenes of my life

Anonymously, my consuming interests
Were psycho-social
If not, to talk to everybody

As deeply as I could
We would sleep in open fields
And travel west in our hearts

To walk freely into the night
Maybe in, another time and place
I wouldn’t be so terrified of

The malignity of the mechanics
Of how separated our lives are now
A schizophrenic individualism

Where profit counts more than people;
Goodbye, I wish we would have known each other
We should meet in another life

We could meet in water
Me and you, without the deluded sense
Of desperate egoism of this culture

I will leave our unity for then
Until then, I will take a deep breath
To listen for the shore, that’s the heart
At the other end of time.

Plunderers of Earth

We should die except for death
Our words cannot change
For these thoughts have been
Thought by us since creation

First began, we shall have our day
Is there any secret left
In our lives, these classical habits
Of will and mind and formula?

We should love except for evolution
Our hearts cannot change
For they have been performing
These rites of giving and receiving

Since creation first began
This is what we do, reproduce and kill
And foster a kind of culture
Now we prefer most to consume

And that is why I say
We should leave except for extinction
Our habits that degrade ecodiversity
We take and we offer the cosmos what?

Exactly I cannot say, the greed of children
Who look into the stars
And think “mine, mine, mine.”

Psalm 12 – The Irresponsible

In the Lord I put my trust
In God’s name that Men
Do harm unto other Men?
In love I put my trust

In Love’s name that Men
Would seek to profit by
The use of other men to benefit
Their families, their countries?

In nature I put my trust
In such a drama of evolution
Which would have one monkey
Destroy all the species of this Earth?

Poison the oceans, let their cities
Gasp beneath the violence of
How much they can consume?
O’ Lord, I see your work in them

The horrible tempest of their plans
To unleash a river of disease
Upon the old kind, and bring
Ebola unto their enemies

I see the heart of Man, plain as day
Cold as a whisper from their graves.

Psalm 8 – Capitalism

O Lord my God, let me not say
Let me not lie, “my God is best”
For each values experience uniquely
Selah. How many Gods have we

Invented? Rending to piece the idols
Of other gods, for our own
Cherished idols? We might worship
Money, but even the God of the

Marketplace, becomes false with debt
The Lord shall judge the people
The Nations shall suffer their karma
The Americas shall be torn apart

O Lord, let it not be said we were
Good Christians, praising only our
Version of right, our emblems of patriotism
Let it be known, we were also cruel

Unfair, corrupt, as any other Masters
That Lorded over other men, that filled
The realms with images of our likeness
Making the world love money, like we did

Capitalism was the plague that we proliferated
We rewarded evil, until the corporations
Became the high priests of our home countries
Feudal, full of disdain for the common people

Barons, full of spite for justice or freedom
O Lord, in thine anger, if though shall destroy
Parts of this world in thy holy crusade
Let history show the white man
Persecuted others to be like him.

RELIGION OF WEALTH

i

Impurity is to live unnaturally
The messengers of death come for us
With your pharmaceuticals and life-insurance
Have you made provision
For the journey friends?

ii

Like withered leaves from too much pleasure
What have we truly given to the world?
Your life will one day come to an end
And the habits of your transgressions
Will be mimicked in other lives

iii

As a civilization consumes forests, oil, iron, coal
As a world is enroached by one
Dominant predatory species
Impurity is to engineer artificiality

iv

Men will place computers in their brains
And create beings to magnify his instincts
For dominion, pleasure, greed, profit
Progress for a few entitled countries

v

All exalted by the Corporations
Impurity is to follow injustice free from civic duty
To equality, living without compassion

vi

In the pursuit of wealth as dogma
In the profit of the few, over the many, as ritual;
There is no conscience in greed
Cloaked in self-determination
No true merit, in elitist inheritance.

LIKE FLOWERS BELOW THE BLINDED CROWDS

i

The Body is my holy instrument
Therefore I shall not endure to live
At the expense of suffering creatures
I shall not ingest poisons or other animals

ii

I shall be skilful with service & flowers
This world is like foam, to be sure
Ready to be born and to die at every moment
I shall see death and life equally, as if
With the same eyes, loving all who follow
Their inherent natural purpose, these clear paths
Satiated so easily in worldly pleasures

iii

The sleeping Cities consuming & gathering
Wealth, children, time – I know it’s temporary
I care not for the faults of others that are necessary
Nor for those who would conquer the world

iv

Like Flowers we must give our own colors
As many kinds of garlands, our scents travel
Down to the River, with the good Wind
The Soul is my holy seat of memory
Therefore I shall serve beauty and suffering creatures
The blind machine of the crowd cares enough for itself.