Thursday, January 22, 2015


I daily lose a little
Change, desire, love.
The shirt ripped from my torso.
Memories are murdered.
Torn from my bared chest.
There is only now.
Yesterday is gone.
Tomorrow may never come.
Today is a curse of loss.

© M Durfee

Wednesday, January 21, 2015


In the mindless shuffle of ten thousands clones
on one concrete path that leads to three thousand buildings
with forty thousand cubicles there begins a day each the same.
Wake , work, eat, sleep,
wake, work, eat, sleep;
on and on in a never ending circular path of life
spent making nothing,
nothing at all but larger numbers,
than the cloned get,
onto each corner office cucumber’s check.

© M Durfee

Crash me bash me and destroy me for no longer is there a thing or journey I can make that contributes to the fortunes of them who once employed me. So easily embraced as long as I paid my way once crushed and broken, I was hauled to the heap and thrown away, taken out with the trash I have become over time nothing more than pungent decay. I do not mind being garbage, even the gulls and rodents need to eat, I hate that my life ends this way no matter how long I yet live, them above my station will e’er have their hand out telling me to “give, give, give.” It is not what I planned. When I bothered to make one, I thought we lived one heartbeat at a time; oh how wrong I was. I realize every time they throw more humans gone to waste and rot covering my living grave with others who are not worth the time to save. Everyone here with me knows we have become useless, unproductive slugs not even alive enough to do the work of worms, rot eating bugs, and for many that is how the world turns. In the end, when all one can do is said and done nothing is left but to be the dung, other creatures can feed on.

© M Durfee

I try to heed the call to hide underneath my blankets but the noise, driving me to it, pulls me away from the fires of solitude that would warm me there. There is no sleep in any case, ‘cept for the ignorance of blind soullessness and deafness. I am worn, well-worn from the lions chewing on limbs long ago ripped off in other wars.

I will stand yet yawning without any legs but the two, knowledge and belief. One shows me truth the other relief from the grief of pain filled knowing of everything I am not. I am ready, always ready to stand until comes the moment no nurse comes to me, bandage in hand to stop the bleeding of my soul. I fear bleeding out of control, my soul.

I once thought it would be my liver that hardened, not my heart. Great walls will do that, save the body yet destroy the man hearing the moaning death rattles of the many who never were given a chance to live, to love, to forgive. I stand on a rock singing to a spirit a song only I know, music only I hear as I send it out to the universe to loud too know the peace found in prayer and lack of fear.

© M Durfee

Monday, January 19, 2015


In the shelter where a bus occasionally stops
sleeps a man that life has passed by for lack of fare,
people who will not share the supposed stops small weather cover
for fear of his prone unwashed smell.

No one knows him only that he is not like them;
not drone dressed and he looks like hell.
Preferring to stand outside regardless the element
they’d rather their fear
of an unknown him rule a small but dry creature comfort,
resenting his use of something built for their support.

He wakens as more humans for their transport arrived,
gathers his few things,
vacates the space he’d overtaken.
As long as he was invisible,
fortune favored life
as another sparse night he survived.

© M Durfee

A man stands cardboard sign in hand
begging for a dollar or two.
Few ever question what to do,
So cynical have we become;
we are certain he has a greater tax free sum
lining his pockets than we,
the underpaid,
under employed
underappreciated workers
will ever see.

It’s unquestionably truly fact
We, the majority, have less to share
but in times past
that equaled
even more reasons to help, to care.

What is it we have become,
now that we are so uncertain
whether a beggar really is a hungry junkie,
or a better businessman
than any of us drones could ever become?

© M Durfee

In the homeless shelter sleeps a family of four
but add another and they can’t even get in the door.
As if feeding the down on its luck tribe is not hard enough,
we the beneficent turn our backs on them in the ruff.
so we don’t have to look at the lacks built into a system
that is growing smaller for the enlarging homeless populations.

Oh the lips that speak “no child left behind” or “lives, all lives matter”
are generally them looking askance at the guy asleep on the bench ,
the hands holding the cardboard sign.
Them whose greatest fear is that their upper class friends
don’t see them running first, number one, in the race
to determine just who are enablers of them
 whom society has disabled.

What is it that sends families to shelters?
Most would work even the youngest of them helter skelter
to have a home they could own. Call upon the corporate masters
of the past hundred forty years for an answer.
Low wages for them building the wealth of the rich,
building wealth they did not share in.
Ask any black lung miner or limb missing train worker.

That was the start, men hurt easily tossed aside
for another waiting to take a chance on a coal car ride.
Everyone had a sense of pride no matter the job it would appear,
the pay packet well-earned was held dear,
until a cabal collapsed the economy
to take away all that had been saved.
Then the family started over again because work
was all they knew about the way
to have family, home and harmony.

Next up to the plate was technology, diodes, transistors,
and all the rest that was done to make a robot
to do the work of ten men for the lifetime price of one.
We still educated people back then,
allowed equal opportunity for all men to strive,
to grow in knowledge, some out of and some in college.
Yet some as always got left behind for reasons extent
we should be ashamed of but never are
for we never want to remind ourselves they existed.
Race, religion and nepotism.

All curses on a growing population
that left one fifth in stagnation
on welfare benefits given out because life
had to be maintained in peace
for wealth to increase. That was then this is now;
they are termed lazy ungrateful breeding cows
who wouldn’t work even if free everything was one great perk.

So that same corporate master benign to him and his,
who started the whole mess, said to himself “fuck this”
started reclaiming loans and property.
First from them who had not a dime they could claim,
then even those with work lost the house they bought with meager pay.
But the take back and take away was not fast enough.
And all the while the giving stopped, shelters shrunk
until they could not provide more
than a drop in a bucket worth of skunk shit.

So now in this modern age of future glory
we are building again wealth on the backs
of them underpaid loaded with debt
to banks and governments
who do not care a whit
about the survival or health of a man;
for if a job kills him,
there is once again one waiting prestaged
just as qualified to replace him in this modern slavery age.

© M Durfee

In my mind we have come full circle from the factory town where a human was owned by his labor for his labor and are coming to a larger circle where them who have nothing will be left with even less, because they are eating into oligarchs profits. what once was called the middle class, the working class, has been under assault for 6 decades now, and the war is just about lost. Soon if you are not on the top, you will be enslaved, not by chains of iron but by chains of place and debt. These 3 pieces took me about a month to finish to a satisfactory completion, but in no way do I consider them strong enough, there must be a revolution against government and corporations but it has to be done not in mobs and masses, rather it has to be done by individuals. Refuse to spend. do not buy anything that is not a necessity AND WHEN YOU MUST SPEND SPEND ONLY IN YOUR COMMUNITY no more chain, big box stores. Humble the Oligarchs by not purchasing their goods until them who produce them can afford to buy them. NOT ONE MORE CHINESE SUICIDE IS ACCEPTABLE over working conditions, that make the rich richer. I am not calling for the collapse of capitalism, I am saying that we have let greed become oUr God and it's angels of stuff, our lords.

Mark Durfee
Martin Luther Kings Birthday Holiday 2015