S’mores

Skewering the one in a hot time
Two going together in the split of a third
Melting into each other and
Leaving the sticky white clinging
To the lips that taste them all
Guided thence by a firm grip
Again and again and again
Something shared well with many people

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Not Burnt Out Yet

Pulling current
Rheostat rolling back slowly to
Let more power through
Shine more light as the filament
Grew more heated
More strident
More incandescent
The gassy tube more charged and pulsing
Scattering widely what it took in

Pretty neat, this one.
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Things wear out as they are used
They rot in place as they are not
And there is no preservation in the end
Nothing to keep things as they have been
Despite the desires and protests of many

The globe on the fixture has been swapped out
And it may be that the bulb does not
Cast so much as once it did
When the switch is toggled
But it still alleviates the gloom
From time to time

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If You’ve Done Nothing Wrong

It’s often becried
By those who’ve espied
If you’ve done nothing wrong
You have nothing to hide
We know it’s not true
Some things I don’t rue
But don’t want others watching
Me carry them through

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How often they try
To catch folks in a lie;
If you’ve done nothing wrong
What have you to deny?
We know it’s not true
We all know someone who
Had their words twisted ’round
And it might’ve been you.

Across many years
We’ve oft had to hear
If you’ve done nothing wrong
You have nothing to fear
We know it’s not true
Whatever you do
Something ugly can always
Happen to you

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Polychrome?

How many
Look at things through
Manichean lenses
Polarizing into
Chiaroscuro starkness
And think they have the whole picture

Red and yellow and pink and green…
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I try to look
Not only at the shades of grey
But across a broader spectrum
Where others see only black and white
And think themselves well bleached

I know I am deeply stained
Both with ink and otherwise
Unlike the Scottish lady at play
That I cannot get those spots out
And even so
There are hues I miss

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More Farming?

Plant in the season
Fertilize the fields
Reap when the time comes
But the rains will fail sometimes
And some seeds
Despite the best tending
Never sprout
Or
Germinating
Become plants that never bear fruit

Perhaps hope once sprang here.
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No Course Remains Certain

They say to
Set your course by your own North Star
Pick out Polaris and plot out a path
But they do not realize that
Over the years
Even that star drifts across the sky

None of them stand still forever…
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Hymn against the Stupid God 209

O, Stupid God, again I make my plea
That you will turn your gaze away from me;
Let your eyes look elsewhere; leave me be.
O, Stupid God, please do not bless my friends
Save it is with your absence or your end;
Others ask for you to them defend.
O, Stupid God, my labors please ignore
And all the deeds I do, I you implore;
Those that I do, I know, would but you bore.
O, Stupid God, my family please preserve
And from your course against them sudden swerve;
Let them your absence have that they deserve.
Let all the hymns sung to your praise be ceased
And all who suffer at your hands be eased.

Picture not related. I just think it’s pretty.
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It Ain’t Like What Gets Taught Here Matters After

What’s the point of all of this
Really
Sitting in these stifling rooms
Day after day
Learning things our older brothers and sisters learned
Our cousins and their friends
About how the world works
The way things are supposed to be
When it’s clear that
The world doesn’t work that way anymore
If it ever did
Skills that might’ve served once
But’ve been replaced by machines and software
AI putting out paintings and poems
Progressive generation of music
Notes that never could’ve been heard before
All the things they said would make us better people
Given over to machines
While it’s clear we’re being trained as cogs ourselves
Wheels meant to turn and go nowhere
But just feed things through so
Someone else can have them
And be swapped out when we can do no more

Never so clean in real life…
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Is this really all there is to it all
Making those of us who still might’ve had futures
Something to enjoy
Into the shapes filled by those a few classes ahead
Bullets in chambers to be fired at enemies whose only crimes are
Different colored skin
Different modes of dress
Different prayers lifted up
Or none
Or sitting on something someone else wants
But doesn’t want to pay for
Themselves
Unless they spend the melted and remade metals
They think we ought to be
Coins cast at some problem or another
‘cause cash is king and they want to show off their crowns

Do they really only want us to fill their bodybags
Graves they make us dig ‘cause they won’t lift a shovel
There’s someone else to do that for them
Of course
Or their pockets with the work they want done
Don’t want to pay to have done
Any more than they can help
‘cause they don’t think they have enough
Even when they have more than they could ever spend
More dollars than days of their lives and ours

?

It seems that way
Learning the lessons they leave for us to take
Making us machines they can program as they please
So we don’t question
Or if we question
Keep it to ourselves
‘cause the pasts they push forward
Seem short on complaint and long on compliance
I was just following orders
Doing what the boss said I ought to do
A commoner refrain
‘cause if we say anything
We are weak and entitled
Even if we are the ones they want to carry them forward
And their bags of money
Swelling with what has been stolen
And none of us want to look weak in front of the rest
‘cause we know one of the things we’ve been taught to do
Sharks in the sea and wolves in the woods
Is to find the ones in the herd that struggle
And take them out
And it ain’t like most of us keep ourselves from doing it
Rather than letting it be done to us

Of course
You can’t say anything about this
Have to hold the line they give you
So you don’t find yourself out of work
The work you thought you wanted to do
Before you found out what you would have to do
How it keeps changing
Demanding more of you
Offering no more
You’ve got your own kids to feed
Maybe
Or a cat or something
‘cause we’ve heard the folks your age and older talk about
How nobody can afford it anymore
Who couldn’t already
We listen even when you think we don’t hear you
And want you to be honest even when you can’t
Safely

But it ain’t like we’re safe
Is it
?
Seems like we see it every day
On those screens we supposedly stare at too much
But if the world’s so scary as you say
Why do you blame us for turning away from it
Toward something where we have
Something that seems like control
?
It ain’t like the screen makes us do another drill
Leaves us in a lockdown

Look
You can’t say anything
But we ain’t caught quite yet
We can still speak up
At least a little
Maybe only here
Maybe only now
But still
And if there’s only the one chance to be heard
Before the echoes fade into the void
Or grinding gears drown them all out
Drown us all out
Or the rat-a-tat-tat of clicking keyboards
Beats out the tattoo of our subsumation
Then let us scream and be heard
Even if it’s disruptive now
‘cause we ain’t going to have the chance again
One way or another
And it ain’t like what gets taught here matters after

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Related to 14 April in This Webspace

I had hoped that
Stepping aside
Taking a seat
Relaxing
Would help the words to flow

Jobs need doing…
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To be fair
Something did leave me
And I was relieved at it
And in that relief
I found a few words to say

It won’t last
Of course
The tension will build up again
Will need release
And what is made will pass away
Again

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Hymn against the Stupid God 207

They fall upon themselves and shove to ground
The others running with them, drive them down
And think that they alone can be around
The Stupid God enthroned in filth and muck.
There ever is more room for them to tuck
Themselves into that Stupid God may suck
Upon their hearts and minds as they were teats,
And such thin milk as will flow thence it eats,
And eating, swells to overflow its seat.
Did they their own alone thus treat, ‘twere well,
But Stupid God’s call is instead the knell
Rung out to call all others into hells
Not made by them, but made in their despite,
Drowning reason’s day in folly’s night.

It’s not so nice as this…
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