UNTITLED USELESS THOUGHTS FROM THE MIND OF ME

Wherein does freedom lie? Words on lips or actions taken to convince? Is “to be free” a mandate to kill all who disagree or a desire built over generations of hegemony? Can a man be free if his partner man or woman is still fighting to live equally? What form shall freedom take, what is the definition of freedom that millennium of men did make? Are we living in an age where freedom is lost, even though women and men continue to pay a dear cost of life for something slipping away in our world of strife? Where is this freedom we speak so easily of as if it was a holy word?

So many nightmares daytime brings now we must wake to them or stay abed dreaming of angel wings that never fly. Too much trouble to be seen we try to divert ourselves away with cartoons of reality caricatures on TV screens. I wake to find another dead kid, more islands missing taking an ocean rising hit, people wandrin aimlessly trying to escape the darkness the sunlight brings. We sway and woe and hope and pray and wonder what happened to man in other days while there’s always someone to say it is just a cycle and if we pedal hard enough the change we seek will appear along the way, will it? We saw the rise and feel the fall of our lack we have no answers as once we did when we carried them on the strength of our back. Hands, whether at work or play once chased the growing night terrors away but now they are ever present during the waking day.

I have no great confessions to make,

no foul abuses or stupid mistakes

to write about or badass me stories to tell.

I can’t speak of all the asses pinched,

tales of the many women I’ve been in,

the whiskey downed, bodies in my trunk

ya know deeds done when I was drunk.

Not that I have never done such as that

for sure I know I ain’t no saint.

I remember I have had my share of knuckles

connected conveniently to wither someone else’ face.

Honestly my face ain’t as pretty as it once was either.

I could though lie and say it was age

that calmed me down from an internal rage

but truth be told pleasure found in bar fighting

fucking for fun and sport left me quite awhile ago.

Man goddamn this stage of cutting people slack

instead of slicing them deep was not supposed

to come upon me at this too early too young

to give up youthful fun age.

It’s only been sixty some years.

Now I am expected to carry myself with casual comport,

to give my grandkids some of idea

of self-won wisdoms comfort?
Who the fuck is going to teach

them to properly swear and fight

when to say goddamn, shit, or fuck

who the hell will tell ‘em

how to sneak out at night?

Grandpa needs to have some rights!

I dreamed the other day,

that the moon started

throwing shit back at us!

Gateway to the universe

It seems to have enough

of watching all the garbage

we throw orbiting the planet

as we try to make a spectacular

ring to mimic Saturn. Then she

looks to our briny surface and

sees all the state sized scum

we have floating on it.

ENOUGH her orbital lobe say!

So the mother of the sky decided

to start throwing crap back at us,

shit for shit, bit for bit.

I personally, when I came out of the trance,

thought, we have not a chance,

not only does the moon have more ammo

we aren’t killing it with all our warming body odor.

© M Durfee

9/6/15