Tuesday, June 25, 2013

WORTH OF VALUE



All the devils have been un-caged and no one wonders why I sit disengaged, disconnected and not giving a crap about it all. Presidents, Parliaments and councils all make their backroom deals and say they will let us live free while in truth they know that if they can trick you enough you’ll put yourself in a cage and then the zoo becomes free cause you’re the dirty animal in it. Starving. Now the academic panderers who study such things say a little methane in your water won’t hurt you anymore than the carbon in your air.

So what if the chemo takes away your hair, the creative cookies will take away your pain and cares until you die left too impotent to wonder why at 29 your bald head is dead. Just don’t come knocking at my door,  my porch ain’t a stage 4 your pain and my wallet has been taxed as a home for moths which fly out every now and then to purchase some more of everything that never mattered anyway. What good is food to masticate if its intent is to devastate your organs with no monkey dancing along with the grinder?

40ounces walking down the street with the skinny guy in the tank top his single muscle bulging because he just beat his wife at the party on the front lawn which goes on until dawn no neighbors are involved with cops rolling by, who seeing no crime to be solved they parked in the dark and stole a nap. Two sisters baby mamas can’t live without the thrill of party drama and love daddy who monthly comes round to collect his gift of pussy, beer and SNAP card pay while everyone sponges off granny who lets her world revolve around a milk crate seat in the sun even when it snows because her house is so full it ain’t her home no more if it ever were.

Stand by me said he to her as she shanked him right in the heart “Love” she said “won’t make me rich you ignorant son of a bitch. You’re unemployed, no home, not worth shit” She took his cash as he bled out on the sidewalk and she ran to free her ass with a richer man than he. Naked I bleed while they put the cuffs on me just to see if I would bother to fight back but I was in the world as I was born and had nothing worth arguing about as they sticked me across the face to put me in my place and maced me to ensure there was nothing I could see; as if there was anyway.

Switching lanes has become a dangerous game as rage is out there driving washed and waxed urban chariots that seem to own it all, a bullet in the head for the old man who drives to slow because money always knows the right to steal a life. No matter the condition the lookout better not fall asleep when the repo man comes to take that customized piece of rolling shit away. Maybe mom’s van ain’t so cool anymore but it can still be stolen for a payment to get that repo’ed noise makin’ piece of crap back.

Mom needs the exercise walking to the bus stop anyway because sonny boy ain’t lifting his pillowed head or getting his important ass out of bed to ensure she is safe anyway. The bites of bedbugs don’t bother him as long as there is a stupid virgin child he can play for reproduction rights, she can handle his bits, lies and, bites she knows she is good for him until he impregnates her while stoking the fire of his gun fueled bravery on the road of illiterate knowing he won’t never be no more poor, that’s a suckers game. Prison ain’t no shame, gotta get schooled some way all the same. Education is the name of the criminal game. Stripes or ties thieven’ is theiven’, it’s all the same.

Smile for a while until your turn comes to be staked out under the sun with the fire ants feasting on your living brain that television flushed down the drain before it ever had a chance to grow to a place where you know nothing can be called truth anymore. Everyone whores themselves out for something and not knowing that nothing is something in the shack built world that we all have come to love to live in.

And all the holy men who this way came sit on the moon and watch from its never turning face to see we are a waste, bound by disgrace of the choices we collectively made. Jesus came back already and took a look around and wondered why was it again he had to die before he walked away from an insanity that never changed  and no one wonders why I sit alone, smoking a cigarette waiting to die, disengaged, disconnected and not giving a crap about it all anyway.

© M Durfee
6/25/13

20 comments:

  1. The naked reality is very painful to absorb.
    It's so easy to bury one's head in the proverbial sand, while the world is withering around you. I'm like a arrow shot buck, I can't afford to stop and rest...I'd bleed out and die!
    You are the voice of our generation Mark, please never shut up.

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    1. Galen I understand. We worked a lifetime, many of us starting at 12-15 years old with the expectation that we would have some value in our later life to live off of. Slowly for the last forty years we have been having it taken away but we never saw it coming until this past decade and by then no matter what we had saved we know it is not enough.

      God knows I wish I could be blind to the troubles our generation has taught the next generation to execute upon all that are living today.

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  2. You'd think somewhere, someday, a politician would try a different way. But I guess it's not in the breed.

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    1. You know Charles if it were only politicians we could get rid of them through concerted singular effort of political will. But they who assume they lead are bought by a higher authority, them who never have enough. This upward transfer of wealth has happened before, many times but the truth is now it is cyclical and not market driven and this is what is ruining all societies. People are going to do whatever it takes to survive or have their pleasures. The question comes down to: On whose dime? And at what cost to societies moral fabric?

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  3. You need to move, no matter the cost. A mobile home in Podunk where the sun shines and the birds sing beats the crap out of the ghetto.

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    1. We keep trying to figure a way Carleton but nothing reasonable that would prompt us to move from a very undervalued property with the possibility of a loss of medical ins and pension has presented itself.

      Though not imprisoned in Detroit the earthquake is only starting to rumble. Maybe once the shaking is done we'll find a way then. *shrug8 Reality does indeed bite at times.

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  4. Wow. I certainily agree with G-Man.

    You are indeed the voice of our generation, even here in boring Canada.
    I especially like
    "...they will let us live free while in truth they know that if they can trick you enough you’ll put yourself in a cage and then the zoo becomes free cause you’re the dirty animal in it."

    As a former dumpster dweller, I can certainly identify. Seems in Canada, if you show any exceptinal ability, they will dump on you. Put you in the dumper. Thak God I had people from Harvard helping out. Graduate school was in Mexico, but I think I did her.
    ...It is a funny time to say God Bless America.

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    1. Education is never a guarantee Ivan. But I will admit Detroit is educating me in subjects in more detail and depth that i already knew.

      I think in general terms we have to leave God out of this because every trouble be it a theft or a repair of a theft which will be just as painful has been directly traced to the hand of man.

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  5. As I labor to be a butterfly of blessing, while speaking up, not losing altitude, not crashing, (much) but defiantly fluttering colorfully, you are the pebble in my boot that keeps me real. I wanna celebrate the sunlight left me. Even inspire a little, maybe. Beauty and compassion are my daggers at Babylon. Hey bro- find your sunspot! Loves ya. Aloha even fo realz

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    1. Cloudia every yin needs a yang to be complete. Celebrate the sunlight and rainbows and fly on gossamer wings. Use the tools you have as weapons to do battle with the devil as you will. I am by that same spirit compelled to speak to what I see and know. To do otherwise would put me at the campfire of them who use smoke and mirrors to turn the majority herd against them who have the most to lose. They may cheer every body blow we take, but i for one can no longer fly above it.

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  6. The air of detachment is prevalent...and the eyes of a keen observer, too, Mark. Yeah, we keeping fuckin' it up, but who really cares in the end?

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    1. Talon I am involved but detached. I have given the portrait I see play out. sometimes they make it too easy for me but the reason i write as i do is because I don't think the mass of humanity has squandered it's last chances yet, that is when I will fall silent.

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  7. Without all our distractions this is what we find...the truth, sadly, underneath it all. You describe it all so well.

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    1. Words that do not blow away masks and fog Ily are wasted. I often wish i could write as wonderfully as you paint but like you I must follow my spirit in this my craft of being in the right now.

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  8. Mark, what a sad but totally true commentary. No words. xo

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    1. Jodi, you're close enough to get just the squibs on the media reports. No words are needed. peace.

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  9. Raw yet powerful words and images... You name should be Jeremiah!

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    1. Jeff I wish it not to be so but Jonah proves it is no good to run from where you are ordained to be at the moment.

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  10. the end really got me...on jesus coming back and looking around at what he would die for...makes me sad really...and frustrated in what we could do to affect any kind of change as this is the reality we seem to be stuck in, spiralling to the bottom of the toilet...

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  11. Mark, I hope that you can move and get the hell out of there. It seems that nothing is going to get better in the foreseeable future.

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So Walking Man I was thinking...