UPWARD WEALTH
DISTRIBUTION
In the mindless shuffle of ten thousands clones
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
1.21.2015
EVEN THE HELPLESS PRODUCE
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.
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
1.21.2015
SPIRITUAL HAPPY
ENDINGS
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
1.21.2015
there is always happy endings for some of us ... just came back from the most unusual shift on Psych34 ... first I was called every name in da book ... I especially remember: "Cunt, Blond Bitch, God damn Immigrant, and Woman I promise I'll kill you" ...this person is now cleared up ... and states: "You are my favourite nurse" ... hmmm, i'm just sayin ... we are all in da same boat ... if you are tired, friend Mark, let me know, and I will row for a while ... smiles ... Love, cat.
ReplyDeletek? ... smiles ...
DeleteMeowmomma--i have been tired for two decades at least but never gave up the oar seat. It's a disgusted kind of tired. I believe it comes from refusing to re-learn how to hate. I may not kill with kindness but i also will not hate them either.
DeleteBut THANK YOU for the offer.
I didn't watch last night's state of the union, so I'll catch up with the state of things through your eyes!
ReplyDeleteJeff Snyder was the real entertainment. He laid out how he is going to pit the middle class and the lower, impoverished class against each other to get 30% more in taxes and fees in a special election vote in May to raise the sales tax and other fees.
DeleteIf you are not in his wealth class you are enslaved to the state, unless you can get out. Me? I have no masters and stay just to irritate the racists and oligarchs.
dont let that heart harden too much...but keep the spine...
ReplyDeletei hate to give up hope but organized government and organized religeon seem to go hand in hand, its all a show any way...a chance to get some sound bytes ahead of the elelection....the only true change we could get is if we scrapped the bunch and ....
Brian to be honest i don't think I have much of a heart left. I had a meeting with the head of a Detroit non profit on Monday, he was stoned when we met, *smirk* as long as he gets his 100K paycheck why not, weed is legal in Detroit, Waste of my time and I'm pretty sure it amused him until i took him on the neighborhood tour and pointed out every house where a murder occurred. It was a buzzkill so he had to cut it short. Fuck it.
DeleteMy life is certainly more than: Wake , work, eat, sleep ~
ReplyDeleteAnd I like the Spiritual Happy Endings very much ~ Worn out of body but always with a fighting spirit Mark ~ Have a good week ~
My life is as i wrote it Grace, except take the work out, them over me grab their give no matter what i say or do. *shrug* I am content knowing that this will not go on for many more years. My weeks are mundane Grace, have been since I isolated from most everyone and everything.
DeleteThe scars get thicker, layer upon layer, as we age.
ReplyDeleteKeep standing on that rock and singing your song. Many more hear it than you realize. And as long as you sing, your heart can never completely harden.
ReplyDelete