TRUTH LIES

When everybody wants to be your lover
but nobody wants to be your friend
go incognito and stay undercover
waiting for tried patients to mend

When all want to know your private business
but none care to see who you are inside
you stand by silently and bear witness
to the stitches that leave scars on your hide

When the somebody’s no longer know you
and the anybody’s call you by your first name
you forget what you thought you once knew
but you can never remember who’s to blame

When anybody else you would prefer to be
and this body is skin you’d kill to shed
to be free of the cage requires a key
the one locked deep inside of your head

As everyone fades the falling snow melts
looking hard at yourself… you don’t recognise
it isn’t you – you became somebody else
lost in this place where strange truth lies

– Copyright Dec 2015 ORP

POSED FOR GREATNESS

 

His presence presents the essence of the highly fanatical
posture proposing imminent threat he projects
the fantastical pretence of all he pretends.

Poking with pointed insistence, joking about coincidence
and the way it’s double-jointed fingers, arthritic and disjointed
feeling for the ointment in a jar by opened door creaking.

Self-absorbed by reflections and representations
meaning implied by infected inflections that shrink and swell
racing down middle of road to hell in a hand basket.

Tracing broken lines laid out before him, driven to the edge
of the event horizon, framing the hole that is home to his casket.

Forgiven for blaming all but the guilty, not unlike Quilty in the novel Lolita
loving the one he is hurting, doing a version of aversion therapy, a vision of virgin territory’s immaculate blanket of pure white snow confection.

A fairy-story with a sting in its tale told by bells ringing at midnight, pealing layers away one by one: smoking gun stealing unspoken prayers.

Tailors show up holding tape-measures in damp hands.

Drunken sailors look for sunken treasures, seek exotic pleasures, dream erotic visions, depressed by pushy pressures down under water deep, embracing the perversions of solipsistic decisions.

Snaking down long padded hall turning round every corner.

Insinuating numerical challenge by way of a question that defies all description, waiting for him to concoct a solution.

Locked out of the answer safeguarded by the protection of cryptic encryption.

He strikes up a pose in a state of repose – striking a certain chord in the skull.

Trying not to suppose or assume, leaving plenty of empty room he’s let go of deceiving history and design a solution to the impenetrable mystery, start a revolution, or resign to the numb of his contagious cancer and the problem it poses, flicking at his head a long stick of chalk like a finger sweeping past face fast as clock’s second hand sucks Time and air from the room into slowly receding scarcity underscored by straight streak scratched on blackboard background backdrop to snowing dust, black shadows ink while velocity keeps speeding.

Calculating numbers of advanced mathematics, drumming digits on countertop.
Demanding self-respect in the form of resolved problem – conundrum solved – absolved in summation – confident in certainty… in the entity of absolution… and like his head on impact under stress overload… unlocked in shock.

The code exposed, but still not cracked.

– Copytright 2016, ORP

DIARY OF A HOMELESS THERAPIST (or THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME)

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REMEMBER TO FORGET

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FISTED!

Law’s crooked arm reaches back in time

Fat red fingers feeling for clues

Fixing evidence to fit the crime

Rewriting history for the news

You’re held in its sweaty vicelike hand

Cold bracelet biting into your wrist

When you stand under you’ll understand

Your face smashed to bits by its fist

© Dec 2014 ORP

A VOID DANCE

He fails to realise his self-delusion
Due to living in the dark of denial
He watches helpless in confusion
As he disappears in downward spiral

Inability to trust fills him with doubt
Numbing alcoholism empties his cup
Burning desires turn him inside out
Forever falling keeps him downside up

He’s a jumbled up mess of contradictions
So selfish he only shares his pain
Imprisoned by pressing predilections
Losing it all in his blind search for gain

Too paranoid to let the outside in
Affects a smile when he causes a frown
Drowning in a filthy bucket of sin
Believing the whole world is upside down

– 2014 WW

FELL INTO A CRACK

floating along on surface
moving through Saturday city
looking around at all the sights
soaking everything up
feet on automatic pilot
leaving prints on pavement
sneaking skimming stones
treading watery grave

keeping wits about me
smiling beneath shining sun
foot-loose and fancy free
keeping it real having fun
on the level above board
on the up and up
straighter than an arrow
or as a die that’s been tossed
but has not yet landed
destination undecided

alive with possibility
free to go where I please
ready to take an opportunity
when it crosses my path
until now doing the math
had no purpose
nothing I had to do or have
freed me up to be me
I could take in a show
or go see the circus
daydreaming the day
I had dreamed

shoved out of way
by some guy out of blue
knocked sideways on sidewalk
equilibrium interrupted
unable to talk
feet falling over themselves
gaze dropping like litter to ground
snagged by crack in path
taking hold of attention
refusing to let go

unable to stop
I step right into it
right foot first followed by left

and then that’s when everything shifts

life falling below (in)to a

(w)hole

new level

where it’s beginning to add up

to nothing makes sense
and nobody knows you from Adam
and you can’t sit on a fence
and there’s no place like home

they they want to know my business
but refuse to get to know me
and when asked to explain
no one ever answers straight
twisted tongues tying disappointments’
loose ends pointing in all directions
to bottomless list of questions

why is nobody trying to help stop
crack in sidewalk swallowing me into black
just like me fancy-loose and foot-free looking
all about them but never below their own feet
most didn’t see me disappearing underground

the few that did witness didn’t want to get involved
floating along surface feet on automatic-pilot
keeping chins up and wits about them
following the crowd leaving me to be slowly eaten

slo-mo sinking into crack on busy sidewalk
sucked into a world filled with sneakers running
by its own set of rules and those I once knew
down here no longer have traction

losing all grip I start slipping
subtraction inch by inch in an instant I disappear

fraction by fraction I realise everything
is different to all I thought I’d known before
and the understanding that the nature of the game
pot me will not be revealed I suddenly insanely see
nothing much has changed everything’s the same

TRYING TO KEEP DRY

Blue sky suddenly turns gun-metal gray. Hair on nape stands up and takes a bow. A spray of sideways snow-bullets shoot indiscriminately at pedestrians, punching them into shocked shapes twisting in wind wildly whipping wet hats from heads ripping back. Bulging eyes blazing like hazard lights.

Umbrellas’ blackslick bat-like skin stripping itself away from exoskeleton, flapping it’s damaged wings in all directions. Slapping around broken metal bones convulsively contorting final death throes. Defeated by a bad attack of cruel weather.

Now the day had arrived it was no surprise. This umbrella has seen so many of its kind end up spent – dead blackbirds jerking in gutter.

In a doorway corner a man is beaten by rain. Sinewy stiff and bendable as a hanger. Shutting down in a way not mendable while wondering why nothing’s ever dependable. Except for change – you can rely on that. Only on change can you realistically count.

Can’t trust weather predictions – just toss a coin. Can’t trust politicians promises – they’re just white noise. Can’t trust the cops – we’re all under surveillance. Beneath unlawful practices and all pervading illegal prevalence swapping freedom for security. It jangles your nerves out of autonomic abeyance.

You sit on a fence and try to make sense from it, out of steady stream of consciousness flowing. Looping back and forth between you and the other. Footprints in mud spell out what looks to be trooping near babies nursery are in a cryptic grouping. Huddling together to protect against weather. Muddling through like an actor without a director.

An inspection was needed but where’s the inspector? He has a plate in his skull so let’s get a metal detector. If he needs a wig just give a call to Phil Spector. Wigs of all shapes and colors, each one resplendent.

He knows about renting having once been a tenant.

– April 2014 ORP

ADULTS ONLY

I’m happily married and in love with my wife
I’ve settled down and stopped running wild
Friends and family who inquire into my life
always ask: When are you going to have a child?

When I say having kids isn’t part of our plan
They ask with whom does the problem lie?
Neither: wife’s all woman and I’m all man
But you aren’t going to start a family – why?

So many reasons… they’d take too long to list
Go on, my friend, its okay, I’m interested…
All right then, but I’ll only give you the gist
As to why in this idea we are not invested

I want a worthwhile reason for everything I do
When it comes to making babies I don’t know of one
Reasons for not doing so has surpassed twenty two
Which is why we decided we’ll be having none

You really can’t think of a good reason to conceive?
Just a lack of imagination on your part, maybe?
I can think of plenty of benefits I might receive
I just can’t come up with one for the baby

As a father, it is with experience that I speak
Believe me: the positive far outweighs the negative
The facts are there but you’re too scared to peek
I suppose it all comes down to your wife’s prerogative

It’s our prerogative just as it is our decision
Considering the state of the world, this is responsible
Which is why children are not a part of our vision
It’s the only choice that appears to be sensible

Yes, I hear you, but how do you figure it that way?
If everybody took your approach, the human race would die
Nothing left to do, accomplish or to say
No one left behind to remember and sigh

Are you really willing to be part of our demise –
Willing to deny your child it’s time on earth?
What is it about this world that you despise?
When it comes to life, do you not see the worth?

There are seven billion people on this pale blue dot
And it won’t be long when there are billions more
Those that have are less than those who have not
And soon the majority will be abjectly poor

More humans will die from thirst or starvation
As basic necessities dry up and run out
Most will only know disease and deprivation
Empty stomachs and mad mind’s filled with doubt

The few rich and greedy will wield all the power
Turning the masses into their slaves
Looking down from the safety of their ivory tower
Sending the others to unmarked graves

The world is sick and it isn’t getting better
The dream has turned into a dark nightmare
The story is ending letter by letter
Our race is running headlong into Nowhere

We’re moving too fast to stop and reverse
Caught up in the pursuit of our own happiness
Unaware that most progress is really a curse
Blind to the fact that god’s away on business

As it was in the beginning, the future’s in our hands
But most of them are dirty and mainly destructive
Turning against each other as we divide all the lands
Pretending that we are being fair and productive

No longer questioning we now believe the lies
Not caring about truth and ignoring the signs
Protecting our egos with excuses and alibis
The joke is on us – we are the punchlines

Instead of paradise, we’ve turned earth into hell
Believing we’re invincible we grew stupid and lazy
We couldn’t be bothered getting up after we fell
Deluded and unable to tell we’d gone crazy

A sane person wouldn’t bring a child into this mess
Forcing it to suffer a life of pain and sorrow
Causing it to experience torment and distress
Hoping in vain for a just tomorrow

© 2013 WW

THE LAND OF FREE DUMB!

“Dear Immigrants:

“We teach it through the media, all of which we own. Know right now wherever you are, when you’re home you’re never alone. Our spying on all that you do, is an act we too wish were not true. You may think that our ongoing war on terror is more than a big, criminal error. But better be safe than suffer the knocks – just listen to Nugent or Coulter on Fox!

“We must keep safe the Homeland in the face of Terror, which is why we should thank Mr Geraldo Rivera (and don’t worry – you can trust him now as he’s practically white – he talks the right talk and fights the good fight) – explaining why young blacks in hoodies deserve to be shot: if you don’t get them first it is you who gets got!

“Here’s how to profile them should you see them at night – if they make you uneasy or give you a fright… if they’re walking too fast or moving to slow… these are the indicators that let you know that they are obviously thugs begging for trouble, and beware of a pair as it only means double.

“We dragged them in chains from across the sea and set them to work in our stolen country. When they were slaves and knew their right place they did their work and kept to their race. But when the notion of equality came along they began to march and grew very strong. They said we were equal – all sisters and brothers, friends and neighbours, fathers and mothers – and set their sights on becoming like us. Then Ms Parks sat where she liked on that Alabama bus!

“There wasn’t no need to cause such a fuss!

“The dark day came that proclaimed the end of segregation, the left-turning point of our God-fearing nation. Another day came when they got the vote and put a tight noose ‘round AmeriKKKa’s throat. Before you knew it they had the right to be armed – just look at the white folks who’ve been tragically harmed! There ain’t any doubt they’re holding a grudge: till their grievances get settled they ain’t gonna budge.

“I know they will kill me if they get a chance and over my gravestone they’ll certainly dance.

“They want an eye for an eye and a life for a life, and that’s the reason there’s so much strife. They refuse to accept that US Whites are superior because they’re jealous and dumber and deeply inferior.

“They have apparently forgotten to remember their place, lacking intelligence, obedience and grace. The next time I find myself out at nighttime, like George I’ll forge forward in search of a crime. And if I see one of them skulking around, acting suspicious on a private ground, I won’t hesitate to reach for my gun, and only ask questions when the firing’s done.

“This country God founded belongs to WHITE MEN. It says so in the bible again and again. These uppity niggers are truly polemicists, getting in the faces of US WHITE SUPREMACISTS. And since they are not part of our race, we must do our duty – put them back in their place. Watching eternal from our ivory tower, they are fair game, WE HAVE THE POWER! And some day soon when they are all gone, we’ll celebrate and praise the Lord that we have won. GOD BLESS AMERIKKKA! Amen.”

– Anthony Raymond Cyst, Esq.

2013 WW