Do I hear Happiness in there#!?firstcycle

Minimum requirement for life pinched off

up the mountain blindly climbing
Receiving bread crumbs in thankless blood, sweat and tears

Minimum wage slapped the hand that feeds fast food bellies

to vote for more struggle in martyred justification

Holding your bladder in frozen smile lined up for the next task

Holy glory in overtime saving complaints to look good to the almighty

Dragging hollow bones to the time clock grumbling undigested cornflakes in the gut

Minimum expectation weaved and mined in dungeons our grandfather’s built

Speeding up the hamster wheel to trick reality into smelling plastic pansies

Walls closing in, hung with color pictures of conversational oasis

The gall I shame you to insist your feet soak in the tub to break blisters on the concrete floor

Retro fit the golden coffin nobly entitled to work ethic blue collar pride

Hyenas wander the ledges keeping out spiders gated throughout cookie cutter houses

Minimum effort in consequence of a bad attitude sourced from intuition locked in a closet

Small business taxing mummies to hold up its dream spiking the punch in drowsy baby cries

Shining the laser light towards the fancy key to take charge of the herd

Dissolving hope to soul death lost in the kinetic bubbling up of once upon a time

Fuzzy voices praising the potential of all you can be

Tasting the fire of sweet satisfaction doused in briny swampland catching fish through the tips of ragged fingertips

Ripping out the core of self-deprecating convenience making master rich patting obedience on the back

Done when the floor invites us to rest our head that tumbled the body off the bed barely capable to press the palms together forming an interception that shifts another day gone by in a new dimension

Inviting mass productivity to shake the stage and force a void in business as usual

Picket fence fallen on yellow grass blown to the wind with parched earth settled delicately on the fine leather seats in the weekend convertible un-garaged for the summer

Indentured servitude building your crystal castle at two shakes of a lambs tail and the promise of cocktails at the end of the day

Pencil skirt and Windsor knot parading powerhouse wisdom locked in uniformity to convince

the pocketbook that the ladder will appear in a smoke of praise gathered in exhaust fumes

No fight left to go up against a lineage of capital industry embedded in nature and driven by the invisible ghost possessed by us all

Shedding layers of self-esteem broken up by ambition to trophy attractions and love not of character but of status and steadiness

A club of masters that haze a generation on the backs of peasants and peacemakers with false compassion to the plight of the weak, lazy and loyal donkeys that tread through the canyon trails wishing for nothing less than unclaimed significance.

Loyal soldiers content to wear the badge that blood made sacred and suits made legal

Weary on my brother pulling his weight to hold the family together rocking the baby to sleep

Wonder more dear Mother watching the children play in the field of buttercups

Resting to dig deeper with the soul seekers blessing the wanderers escaping in patience and

giving new earth in simple satisfaction to  us all.

A paradise lost upon its victims and set behind a backdrop of revolution charmed in the book of history maybe to repeat and comfortable to not.





The upside of living a life worth waiting for

Noting the tap foot beat of right about now

left in my imagination to pull out a dream

So big Olly rabbit reminds my tired lobe to keep

That scurry in the shake shake shake of my hips

Lost in the curve of my once upon a time bounce in my booty

Still enough juice to strike my flat arse into gear and laugh at

the forced affirmations of gratitude sucking me out of this depression

And hope it sticks this time yet the glory of possibility seem like enough

while the love dance in my head reassures my bitter resolve that I can die a

peaceful death to have a chance at the toe dip

Slippery with a wink and a joy

To dare to fun

To dazzle

To see

An army of haters brought to their knees by the shift that made life purposeful

An ugly truth to fight against such gore in mission justified

A satisfaction so lovely that the blood of the warriors wipes smiles in our dust

A rock

And a hard

Bellowing alignment to each energy center

The crown of the head stings knowing this burst is bout to happen

Its done the machine of sideline sitting

And kiddy pool sailing

Wise to it

Red the blood of

Orange sunsets


The yellow washing fresh

the blues

At the Star midnight sparkle

in the eye of the center of the milky way

Retrieving us back to the start of a new civilization

Planted in the dirt of the ground below

Rooted strong

Swallowed up


Melted ash carried on the breeze

To a new day

To a new earth2017-02-13-17-21-00


Noise, noisy,branches.jpg noise

Static against the back of my brain

Twisting logic into sermons on the mount

Angry push to win me over

All the stops pulled

Tailgating in the fast lane

Overpowered by a sincere act of listening

Wake me up when November ends

And the ice caps melt

this gap in the dessert of self -indulgent mental maneuvering

Lost in a who cares and a what for

Beyond the setting sun shining light around the golden birch

Changing the scene yet again

Facing the relief of the familiar

Softness clouding above the

Screech, screechy, screech

Patience within the back of my heart

Sitting Shiva

Mama God bring us out of the underworld into your light of heaven promised by the warm hearth of Demeter.
The patriarchal past has reached its demise yet no one moves aside from Durga’s mighty force of nature
Flooding us out of our old ideas and drying up the water that we use as tears of mother
Isis holds us dearly but her grip is slipping while we wiggle oumamagodphotorselves into poverty over inflated and Pushing down the last ounce of Kuan Yin’s service to walk in the shadow of Jesus
Lift the chin to the sun and Ra still remains
There is no extinction in the womb only crowding with elbows raised to answer the money call that is your last best hope to make it count before you die with Sedna scaring the power out of your sentimental heart
I cry for you
I weep for me
I try for all; lest trying be my destruction under Pele’s bible exhausted by fumes ripping apart my neighborhood
Out of source the devil dances with play on
Pachamama’s back as an unwelcomed host draining the blood, leaving my belly resources-less with disease to be bought and sold in the waiting room
Nut sky disguises the mystery under smog lamps
I can’t comprehend the dust that burst into me
Swallowing up the oxygen where none escapes
Mama Goddess awakens now not fighting and gently tapping before it is too late to bury another loved one riddled with cancerous suffocation to what to do next.
I ache for you
I scream for me
I surrender for all; lest surrender be the laziness that lacks the telling
What to do behind the burka with wise eyes wishing better
Freya seducing the snake into the spider’s web feeding the nest and fumigating the forest.
Merging the edges into smooth spikes of electricity combustible by shear will into another form retreating into the synthesis of Divine
You and


Jobs at all cost….

Jobs.. jobs are what we Americans need…

Jobs at all cost.

Jobs despite the destruction; or at least that is the message I get from the latest BP commercial with the fancy lady bundled up in front of a glistening Alaskan mountain. Jobs are necessary,,,

Jobs are the holy grail to be sought and saved no matter what; or at least that is what I read in the NY times today as a summary of quotes by Kentucky senator Mitch McConnell.

Representing coal country and standing against carbon emission legislation.

Energy, fuel, global life juice is motivating a mad dash of wealthy developers to covet pristine Norwegian land; ironically made accessible through global warming melting of the glaciers.

To dig into the profitable underground rivers of oil.

Ends justify the means to satisfy our immediate necessity to create jobs….

Jobs…. the disguise used to help wealthy vultures gain more wealth.


I feel the pressure, I know the pain of un and under employment.

I have experienced the stress of knowing the job I have barely sustains

I have witnessed the grind that is not exactly healthy

No choice cuz you have to face the real fear

Without employment you are at the bottom of all life.

A penny in the pot is worth more than the misery of nothing.

Left out of the entertaining pleasures of life, let alone the survival tools of housing, food and clothing.

Aware tragically of the moral depression of being labeled and labeling yourself a “loser”, “lazy” and worse of all “unproductive”


The argument tugs at our heart-strings deeply because we all are susceptible to the same condition.

At any moment, in an instant, this could be us

So Jobs…

Jobs… at all cost.

The extreme wealthy found the winning formula to get the people at the Achilles’ heals.

Fear of utter financial alienation and worse

Fear of transportation annihilation…

Our cars are our freedom and I myself have been made panicked by a simple over night stay at the auto shop.

I fully believe the sun can provide all the energy needed. My brain can comprehend this reality.

I know there is more than enough wind and water to give us all the freedom we want.

My eyes find it evident.


But money…

Money at all cost

Immediate financial gain…

At this time, now.

This American style agreement.