Dented Souls

Out of alignment, bent and maybe a bit off-center

Scratched, used and badly in need of being trued

Rolling like dinged hubcaps mounted crookedly upon wobbly wheels

Always pulling towards the side of the dusty roads they travel

Dented souls with heavy parts sliding around inside when you turn them over

Fractured souls poorly splinted up using broken dreams and lame excuses

Lacerated souls oozing a clear morality into the dirty gutters

Bruised and contused, swelling and stiffening up

Souls grown bent from facing an eternal wind of dogmatic religious propaganda

Layers of grease built up on their undersides from long years on the roads

Rusting, unused souls in our institutions and cemeteries

Souls slowly turning to stone at a rate we cannot sense

Abraded beyond their working tolerance, they squeak and complain

Sagging souls still carrying far too much commercial traffic

Used and recycled, gradually losing the elasticity of their spirituality

Souls with broken and missing parts that won’t boot up no more

Lost souls found at last, spinning slowly in quiet, forgotten eddies

Cut deeply into by sharp objects on their tender and sensitive surfaces

Corroding under decades of the musty-smelling sediments of tears

Splintered souls with sharp and nasty looking edges

Squeaking, un-lubricated social joints and broken shock absorbers

Failing cooling systems and batteries that cannot hold a charge

Souls eviscerated and left to dry oiut in a hot wind, under a merciless sun

Crooked going gnarled, forgetful heading towards dementia

Dropped and cracked souls, not thrown away but likewise, never fixed or used

Fuses blown and then simply removed and live wires twisted together

Dusty souls with grime embedded into cracked surface joints

Attacked by parasites and pestered by noisy, biting charlatans

Mass-produced to last ‘forever’ without any provision for maintenance or repair

Clogged, narrowed and constricted and without any warranty

Factory-sealed but broken open to expose the non-user serviceable parts within

Bloated souls decomposing at the high tide mark on cosmic desert islands

This Ain’t No Boating Accident

This ain’t no tv game show

We won’t be back after some brief message

You won’t need no pain relief

Don’t bother getting up for another beer

this ain’t no traffic incident

oh, we’re way past the last exit ever

go ahead and drink and drive

no need to watch the gas gauge

this ain’t no office party

don’t need no burgers, chips or beer

forget about the sexy secretaries

go ahead and wax your boss

this ain’t no tango lesson

you won’t step on no one’s feet

don’t worry about your shoes

for this will cure that loneliness

this ain’t no drinking binge

don’t bother to swear off again

there won’t be nothing you can’t remember

you’ll never have another hangover

this ain’t no clearance sale

you can’t save no extra money

you can just ignore them newer ads

you got much more than you’ll need

this ain’t no dream vacation

don’t try and fit in that new bikini

you might as well kick way back

the flight home never can arrive

this ain’t no midnight snack

you don’t need to hold the anchovies

you won’t get gas in the night

you can’t gain no more weight

this ain’t no boating accident

jesus ain’t tossing you no lifeline

you can’t drown and you can’t swim

you can’t breathe the air or the water

this ain’t no household chore

you can’t hide out in the garage

there’s nobody gonna nag you

there ain’t no mess to be cleaned up

this ain’t no bible study group

that red ribbon won’t hold your place

you ain’t got a psalm to stand on

you won’t testify in the void

this ain’t no boring family picnic

they won’t pass you jello salad

don’t have to kiss some aunt’s hairy chin

they won’t even have to leave you alone

this ain’t no gambling junket

you don’t need to find a stake

forget about free meals in deluxe hotel suites

you ain’t the one who holds the dice

this ain’t no old folks home

don’t try to stay awake for the kids

you don’t need to roll outside

they’ll come get you in your bed

this ain’t no petty insult

don’t get all like quiet and pissy

no need to act like we’re not here

you won’t know you’re all alone

this ain’t no drug support group

it don’t matter if you’re clean and sober

there ain’t another day to take one at a time

don’t have to introduce yourself as an abuser

this ain’t no friggin camping trip

won’t be roasting any weenies

don’t worry about the sleeping bags

don’t even be afraid of the bears

this ain’t no weekly department meeting

don’t bother fabricating any fairytales

can’t use no visual aids

sucking up ain’t gonna help

this ain’t no kiddies bad dream

you can’t hide beneath the covers

nobody’s gonna come when you cry

the monster’s finally gonna get you

this ain’t no benefit dinner

they won’t seek a financial commitment

you won’t be eatin any rubber chicken

not gonna listen to no inspiring speakers

this ain’t no anger management class

we ain’t sorting out your issues

no need to be aware of your body’s signals

you won’t rage and scream or shout no more

this ain’t no construction detour

you ain’t getting back on the freeway

don’t even look for no street signs

it’s gotten way too dark to read

this ain’t no gaming getaway

you won’t need your extra credit card

it’s all going on your tab

you got nothing anybody wants no more

this ain’t no sports report

it’s all about your failing vital signs

it’s almost time for kick off

just maybe you could lift your head

this ain’t no Baptist revival

brother, you can’t hear Him call

judgment day’s been postponed for good

and jesus don’t know jack about it

this ain’t no birthday cake

it ain’t sweet but it’s stale

nobody’s singing happy birthday

them so-called presents ain’t for you

this ain’t no border crossing

don’t bother to try and sneak across

you got no valid papers

you ain’t goin out and you ain’t getting in

this ain’t no Lotto drawing

all them balls got your number

here’s a wad of free tickets

don’t even scratch ‘em, you’re already a winner

this ain’t no commercial message

they ain’t selling nothing here

you won’t hear no cheery jingles

you won’t need no persuading

this ain’t no final interview

don’t bother dressing up

no need to smile and flash your résumé

you’re already ensured a position

this ain’t no military operation

you won’t even need your weapons

you ain’t been trained to get through this

you ain’t got no squad to fight with

this ain’t no wedding reception

you can’t get drunk and spoil her day

don’t matter if you don’t got no ring

this won’t qualify as a honeymoon

this ain’t no family garage sale

leave your junk in the closets

don’t bother laying stuff out real nice

nobody wants that shit, no how

this ain’t no natural disaster

god ain’t smiting them heathen again

stay out of the basement shelter

they’re already tagging your dead body

Long After One More Lost Holiday

Coming back from some long lost weekend or another,

You asked me did I remember such and such or so and so

It was from a time in a place that I had previously long awaited

But it took me a while to dredge up a couple jumbled recollections

Then I tried to remember the distinct holidays from different years

But there was no ordered collection with little notes and titles on their spines

There was this hazy blur from which things sometimes arose,

Like fish rising from the depths of murky moving water

All those highly-anticipated, well-orchestrated life events gone by

Full of joy and recreation, people and relaxation,

Now tumbled about on my rough journey in a worn out box of memories

Events and details mixed up forever, far beyond any disentanglement

After the holiday, came the realization of the once again onrushing ordinary

I never had time to unpack and to file our time together

It quickly disappeared in our daily wake, right along with your suntan

Sometimes I found its artifacts as I cleaned out the garage

For some reason or whatever we ask each other

Where were we on that Labor Day, three years ago

I could not remember what we had done

You did not recall where we had stayed

The kids do not remember all those special places that we took them

Your mother died 5 years ago asking for you to go and bring you to her

I find another page of recollections that I give up trying to put in order

We both draw blanks and we just look back through each other’s eyes

After the holiday, as I awaken, before the first visit of my morning nurse

The Siren Call To Arms

Those who lead us so bravely into war never seem to carry any weapons

Those forced to do the dying never had a quarrel with those they are told to kill

Merchants profiting, go dressed as patriots and keep their children safe at home

Society must fill the youth who might refuse them with the guilt of cowardly traitors

Politicians call upon the lord to bless us in our righteous struggle with the heathen

Mothers sigh and shake their heads as they wipe away their bitter tears

Propaganda tells of our great victories and of enemies who would eat our children

Crippled soldiers return lost and mortally embittered by the pursuit of duty’s glory

The military is instructed to keep the flag-draped coffins away from the public’s eyes

Thus does every small town come to realize, that only its heroes come home in caskets

Leaders demand support for their false causes so that our fallen sons do not die in vain

The alienated lament the sacrifices made for the mere vanity of those in charge

Younger brothers eagerly await the day they can proudly join the elder sons

A father’s cautionary tale cannot be heard for the media’s call to explosive glory

Unquestioned annual increases pile upon already utterly unimaginable military spending

Unlike welfare, only the unpatriotic ask for a reckoning as to where dEfense money goes

Complicit religious leaders praise our cause and lead us in sponsored prayer for our troops

A pitifully small minority foolishly appeal to mercy, love, reason and understanding

Conservative elected officials abhor the gloom and doom claptrap of that liberal media

Their own hand-crafted stories are, however, often exposed as clumsy pre-fabrications

We are told of vast, loose but well-organized networks of highly-trained enemies

We see only a few dirty bearded men in tire sandals dragged from 3^rd world slums and caves

Our path is foolish, arrogant, badly-planned and stubbornly incorrect

They preach that we cannot afford the just consequences of their own immoral stupidity

We are told dissent over ill-conceived and shortsighted policies gives aid to our enemies

But, that our self-anointed exceptionism provides us a strong moral armor going forward

Squishy, feminine calls for peace have been marginalized into the ridiculous

They have finally sown a hardy hatred and disrespect for us, throughout the entire world

But you’ll be better fathers and husbands for having seen terrified children maimed

They’ll ask if you killed terrorists and you’ll see their frightened faces once again

You won’t talk much about it because others wouldn’t understand

Why you’ll probably even work hard to end this vile practice of war, I am quite sure

Vagabond Koans (3)

The Hi-tech Seaside Ratrace

Tearing out fenceposts and chopping down billboards

Overturning gas pumps and upsetting microwaves

Throwing down cell androids and smashing new iPhones

Dreaming again, I awake feeling refreshed

………

The president is to address the nation

Mass media picks up the proper sound bites

His makeup is good and his tie is correct

Well he delivers those choice words of others

………

Fierce Renaissance corporate Amazon

Hard-driving executrix /Slash/ loving mother

Stalled in traffic with her electronic organizer

sips on her strong espresso thru a chiseled face

………

Feeling bottom, standing up, pitching over in a splintering crash

Spuming wall of white water rolls

Vaporous hissing rush up the sand

Another swell has arrived

………

Making rapid progress towards goals as yet unspecified

Hypnotized by the grand illusion shared by the hive

Ever storing up even more saved up time

Constant acceleration towards eternal oblivion

………

Cypress lapping predawn fog

Sound of waves from left to right

Silence oozes through the background

Time to be ready to be free

………

Master of the universe in yet another silver BMW

Possessed of many exotic baubles he cannot understand or afford

In an endless marketing loop of material-based self-actualization

Considers the smog-encumbered sunset, stalled again on the freeway

………

Snoring loud enough to wake us up

Deaf beyond alerting us

Farting and dream kicking the nights away

Dear old dogs, we love them so