Poems: 060123 - January 6th, 2023

[Robert Morpheal]

171222A
-----------

Been set free
devious ways
into never want
being that free
out whatever was
whomever were
ways of before.

Maladjusted to free
a never likely
feelings never right
free from that much
freedom past sudden
endings into more
nothing going on.

At the end again
gathered fray end
little bits got away
with every strange
feeling maybe no
no one actually cared
the way I once did.

Mistakes made
crux of baseless
false information
peppers grey matters
the salted meat
repeatedly repatriated
to new exile.

Learn to differently
but too difficult late
really know besides
that it always once
worked better for
someone doing
bad jobs of it.

When it ends
ends sadder leaving
nothing much nothing
sense of wonder
concerns anything
left something missed
on the dead inside.

Maybe the plan
and just maybe
the program
explains scene drops
player mementos
as to varied parts
and forgotten names.

I sort of remember
what it was like
but they keep saying
this is freedom
though I disagree
and maybe never did
want being that free.

------------------------

281222A
-----------

Was a time when
the rich man gave
of his money
and the beggar
gave of his prayers.

Now the beggar
does not have a prayer
chance in this place
because all of his gods
are far too rich.

-------------------------

291222A
-----------

In the lacrimatorium
where they keep the tears
have been cried
there are rows of vessels.

There are eyes drifting
in the liquid
no longer able to see
beyond immediate glass.

Dissolving faces
gradually slip away
from recognition
melting into flesh soup.

Ashes to ashes
and tears to tears
until an angel pours it
back into a sea.

That is an ink
can write worlds
in invisible letters
punctuated by sounds.

I wanted to say
but there was no one
who was really listening
so I screamed at the sky.

------------------------------

020123A
------------

Stuff of greetings cards
celebrating the know nothing
amid realities of living
in these dirtied up times
spreads a casual ignorance
in between confetti litter.

Some trying at facsimile
stupid sorted version selves
confident as if living it
as the buy into no more
than continued expenditures
forever verging exhausted.

On edge or over goes
but never any step back
from getting a hang of it
being regular routine concerns
buying a place in the usual
suspect line ups.

It does not get you
where you wanted to be
but it is the only game
left in town and you
have to play at
something or other.

We send ourselves out
past arm twists of hopeful
about someone catching it
where it was thrown up
as another disease condition
we must keep to ourselves.

Haunted by promised
answers we cannot get
at any truly affordable price
but always reassured
everything is still for sale
to those who have money.

Caught up in a confusion
that has no way in
and no way out again
from being dangled over
mid line of fractured pinata
sways of disaster.

You have it in you
but that is only guts
you have failed to spill
parading your skin bag
and trying to sell yourself
in some other's want ads.

Last year's unsaleable
fashions no one is buying
know what was needed
was everything new
at every new turn down
along that winding road.

The winding road
never leads to your door
a long way down
from all that trying
to get up to it
being spent for nothing
and made obsolescent.

They do not want
whatever you did before
and they do not want
what you were going to do
but there is no telling
what they really wanted.

It is not the real you
that they want to fabricate
from whatever remains
but they know you in ways
preventing anything
you ever wanted.

Pick up your own bruises
from that chew of floor
been run over worn
out what never gets to be
past common pipe dreams
staining memory books.

An open and shut case
study of any life consumed
and any life eliminated
in endless ways we tend to
being consumed
and then eliminated.

--------------------------

030123A
-----------

The coldest times
came electric tingle
tips of finger stretch
into the emptied of.

The body shows
no actual mercy
on any level of chaos
and persistent demand.

There are the members
of what dissipated
and subsequent dissolution
past varieties of lost cause.

It is too expensive
to even try to open up
about anything special
might have been a plan.

There is the move away
from anything interesting
into all the moans
and related forfeitures.

That is part of the design
afflicting a human universe
where beauty and truth are
always its biggest lies.

Forever seems too short
but the day too long
trying to grasp at
another fictitious meaning.

We could make things up
to meet typical expectations
filling in endless spaces
created tooth and claw.

If you write about it
too many will know
and it will not come true
because of envy and spite.

If you do not write about it
then they will accuse you
as to a lack of vision
and failures of imagination.

Another part turns to chorus
in a latest spate of ignored
discomforts and complaints
added to an outcast disregard.

It was pieced together
from the various things
that were made to suffer
and not much else involved.

There are no indications
anything can be done
apart from the emptying out
of failed possibilities.

Even the available pain killers
come up merely snake eyes
in a vast rigged casino concern
about conflicting wants.

Everyone always wants
something one does not have
and they do not ever settle
for anything else or less.

------------------------------

030123B
------------

Cannot afford the space
knowing the devil took it all
and the devil never gives back
the way the empty grows
into a gulp and swallow what
ever was thought might not
eat away and left overs
marginal inside soft shelled
sort of slow poke kinds of life
get left concrete shore prod
long line salted dove tails
straggle to falls behind.

We are the stranded ones
ghosts of our little ones
counting up whatever we have
left as the left out of where
we don't know how any
pulls out from nothing but
what has been taken way
together times being cut
off points a bam blam always
gone to bloodied up ends
a contrived show
saying everything same.

I only know I don't have it
and I don't know any
about where it went
but what I know is it was
never never meant being
anything and land a way
but that is any goes if
they make it go their way
only devil knows what
that way really is to come
when it comes down to all
the ways it ends.

---------------------------

030123C
-----------

The goings on and going
to don't know where it is
going to be gone to
and the steady drizzle drops
accumulating countless sort
impossibilities formed
vague outline sketching
their cameo portraits
in a disturbed blur
of sidewalk puddles.

We collect the reminders
suggestive of romance
belongings to various others
the way purloined chords
belong to an accordion
plaintively teasing for coin
sublimated repeat
pump action lacks
any means to afford
the luxury of a monkey.

Sometimes even the sadness
is something that is lucky
in between feeling a rise
contents under emotive pressure
that cannot be released
into polite society runs
circles round your head
squealing their smiles
the way pigs sometimes do
when they become excited.

You play the heavy because
it is all you know how to do
even if it really is another
out of character role leaving
an unfortunate trail of moments
the way tomorrow's sweepings
are today's dropped crumbs
remains unwanted bits
that lacked the charisma
to seduce other appetites.

Pictures of gone worlds
we can no longer explain
by means of desiccants
and additions of preservatives
trying to keep them going
as paralyzed moments
passed off as recollections
past the cruel winding down
cataloguing all the species
that are various types of loss.

There is a piece of paper
for each specific instance
stashed in a file cabinet
signifying everything
somewhere in nowhere
as to its sayings of nothing
concerning real natures
and any such misfortunes
disguised as formalities
forgetting names.

They want me to change
my clothes, my car, my life
but it is too late for that
and I could never change
everything or near enough
every time the cock crows
or the bell tolls knowing
you will not like what I have
and what I have had to become
on verge of an extinction.

------------------------------------

030123D
-----------

I did what I had to do
but fully knowing
that it is never enough
no matter what it is.

Never enough to reach
that far out into where
there is anything
I really craved.

They do not provide
any such simple comfort
preferring complicated
and futile diversion.

Filling in the gaps
the way one fills in spaces
against the wet and cold
intrusions of sex and death.

They never seem to let
go to anywhere far enough
from any well rutted track
channel of same old thing.

Deemed reckless
down ordinary mud holes
that nothing comes out of
belching more disdain.

I am tired of the way
all such things go
and would have preferred
to live a Hollywood fiction.

Wondering how they can
act that way in front of us
as if their lovely shoes fit
our ugly and deformed feet.

Our forever looking for
something that seems
more truly our own instead
of whatever, and there is.

All the styles of pretend
and the ways of make believe
that take up our time
and make us so very poor.

-------------------------------

030123E
-----------

There is that estrangement again
that seems to have crossed over
among various other shades
representing disconnections
creating a torn loose dangled
something that once had purpose
but is now defiant of use.

That touch and go condition
malingering on a stray phrase
stripped down of any real
motive or intention into
meaningless acts that could
be most easily betrayed
by nearly anyone.

We pretend we are completing
some sort of puzzle
that we are supposed to complete
while convincing ourselves
as to some type of justification
and maybe there is a prize
when, if ever, it is all done.

Something to substitute
in place of secret dreams
that we feel forbidden
to ever really live in
being hidden away
within the darker spaces
of our censored minds.

Why don't we want
to live like other people
and do the things
that other people do
but that reassures us
of our incurable condition
as to a mental leprosy.

----------------------------