Poems: 150423 - April 15th, 2023

[Robert Morpheal]

090423A
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Your discovery
that you are living
stuck between floors
on an elevator run.

Someone would tell you
that it is a state of mind
but that too can represent
the conditions of reality.

Your having no way
to make it go up
or go down
and the doors do not open.

You hear distant voices
from corridors and penthouse
but there is no information
between bursts of laughter.

Threatening rumblings
rise u p from the pit
somewhere in a sub basement
of imagined torment scenes.

You have been there
what seems forever
getting jerked around
in between floors.

No one hears
the alarm sounding
so you sit there
waiting for it to move.

Someone is in control
but it is never you
and all you are is stuck
in between floors.

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100423A
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We have all become
the very same
destroyers of worlds
as if there is no other way.

Denials and affirmations
are the meaningless prattle
the mumble mouthed
failures and interlocutions.

What is the real purpose
that exists in all the making
becomes so much breaking
and only the ghosts really know.

They know what was there
where the voices lived
and what remains after
is tied to the dust of forever.

Saviours and culture heroes
along with the sweet things
of what is now a museum past
in process of re-definition.

No one does that anymore
and you are left to wonder why
in a world increasingly stripped
of what was truth and beauty.

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110423A:
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It goes down,
down, down, down,
taking that feeling with it
that plunges inside of you
forced up into the throat
a heavy gut lump
threatening to turn to vomit.

All those things
that you wanted to do
that can never be done
and your being misinformed
by the historical facts
that people used to do them
but no one does it anymore.

At least no one you know
and knowing is itself
a sweet thing of the past
that the dying reminisce on
and the young keep denying
any real knowledge of
crowing like legendary cocks.

The betrayals are memorable
and whatever you started
someone else came and ended
with their selfish motives
having no real or good reasons
beyond sharing bad habits
with their usual wrecking crews.

You could try to tell them
it was not always that way
but the noise of the brain wash
would drown out your words
leaving your mouth bubbling
its incoherent bursts
into gone vague and empty.

You know you should stop
talking about anything
that merely proves
your inability at playing music
and a similar gross lack
of any other social skills
such as Trivial Pursuit.

There is nothing left to do
except learn to consume
the types of products
that are deemed appropriate
to your income level
where you are made to believe
freedom is now too expensive.

The good stuff is out of reach
and even if you could afford it
there would be no use for it
as that is out of reach too
and that is about privilege
that you cannot ever buy
with any amount of money.

People do not do things
with other people anymore
unless they want to get
what you do not have
or do not want to give them
in exchange for something
you do not want to get.

And if you try to talk
they refuse to hear you
because you are not saying
what they want to hear
and there is no point in that
because it leads to nowhere
that you would want it to go.

They declare your vision blind
and your viewpoints void
in accusations of sleep walking
cancelling your dreams out
with categorical determinations
as to who they say you are
contrary to anything you want to be.

The only place left
to really feel comfortable
is somewhere in the past
but no one that you know
wants to live there anymore
and it is no fun alone
no matter what you dream.

Rumours of life style choices
available somewhere down the line
but you never seem to get there
to that particular station
where someone might be waiting
for what is left of your type
travelling the ruins of the underground.

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110423B
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Turning pulp fiction
into papier mache
so you can build a world
out of the stray letters
some still clinging
to their syllables.

The universe an inscription
that we cannot read
in hardly knowing anything
about its alphabet soup
formed primordial words
expressing strange ideas.

We are left with explanations
proposed to us by savages
who would kill
simply to make those true
and civilizations are built
on those types of lies.

Another typical cabal
supported by the syndicates
who secretly approve
as well as secretly condemn
the various statements
the accounts and terminations

The truth never has a chance
against pulp fiction
and maybe it is for the best
that it remains that way
as to the papier mache
of all those alphabets.

We try to read the surface
intrigued by that thin shell
but experience always says
it would all be destroyed
if we were to shatter it
in any effort to get inside.

It causes us to stop trying
having become discouraged
by always breaking things
to try to get out the meanings
as if we could find
some secretly beautiful truth.

There are plenty of rumours
as to secret and beautiful truths
but there are no invitations
and all you really know of any
is the long road back around
between rows of gates and fences.

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120423A
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There is no point going
to where someone talks
what I do not want to hear
especially from whom
I do not want to hear it said
and with contrary intentions.

Those who secretly want
some of that usual ugliness
that drives their conversations
out of a hungry darkness
claiming captive territories
and building their walls.

Sometimes that is all there is
as to any chances at going
so one counts it as gone
and that is all there really is
to relieve that added tension
that there is no good need of.

Leaving those usual conditions
of various types of social siege
the way the French say it
in between a croissant and wine
as the clock times out
the duration of that nausea.

I find I am not really free
to do any of what I intended
and much less what I wanted
but I am more free to pretend
that I have been broken out
from that other type of prison.

Another way of becoming
another type of obsolescent
brand caught up in the stream
of the latest obsolescence
took decades to develop
in time for no longer wanted.

Between the oppression
that is other people
and the oppression of mortality
there is not really very much
other than more wanting
for what life routinely denies.

Perhaps it is always too late
to begin all over again
but still far too early
to give in to the executioner
so we get tangled up between
those two styles of ritual.

The old ways having failed
we try to find new ways
to spend the remaining time
carrying the latest banners
that announce our uncertainties
along with a marching band.

What we started at long ago
takes a long time to achieve
but by then it is unpopular
having been replaced
by something we do not like
and would never want to do.

Many cave in to the coercion
as to doing whatever it is
that they never want to do
simply to acquire some of anyone
who does the same
and some call that happiness.

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120423B
-----------

Maybe what we really long for
is for when it was possible
to enjoy some novelty
without any sense of guilt.

When it was possible to like
something that was different
from what the others wanted
without being rejected by that.

When we could be the surprise
or find the surprise
that came in the package
that we could have hoped for.

That was called opening up
in a more real way than confessions
muttered to priests or psychology
in the hopes of settled claims.

Realizing it still gets you nowhere
that you really want to be
and is that punishment or reward
asks the little man in the Dark Lodge.

Nowadays if it is something odd
that you happen to like chances
it will never like you in return
and too ordinary will hound you.

It is the too ordinary kills it
then drags in the lifeless remains
as if that is a peace offering
to be left on your doorstep.

They do not really want you
to really like anything at all
that is not mass produced
including you or anyone else.

Your brand no longer available
and no longer marketable
no one wants to deal
those types of goods anymore.

There is no way to add up
those sorts of damages
and no way to litigate
for not really being wanted.

You are still left in the wings
to sitting out the entire game
just when you began to believe
you could get in on it.

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120423C
------------

You were never the real thing
because that was too extreme
compared to what life gave you.

The world is an extreme place
demanding that much more proof
than what it doles out to you.

It is always stingy in that regard
and you are just another dog to it
to whom it would throw a bone.

Those bones are already too chewed
and worse yet they have learned
how to chew on you.

It wants to take so much more
than it ever chooses to give you
then it says you want too much.

You cannot make that bargain
with no one to bargain with
as to the wanting and offering.

So choose something else
then choose something else again
until you stop being choosy.

Whatever you looked for
they offer something opposite
and no way to negotiate.

There being no way to settle
that sort of ruined account
lacking those bargaining chips.

You cannot get in on it
though you know there are others
who are always in on the picture.

That picture that you want to be in
in that scene you want to play
and why do they have someone.

And you are left a bit part
that you cannot possibly do
as to being that other character.

There is nothing ever for you
and you always get all the blame
for failing to change into someone else.

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130423A
-----------

Neither the one nor the other
caught up in the middle
of that perpetual battle
of the strong and the weak.

Nothing really wrong with you
but nothing is right either
and then all that stands out
is a suspected betrayal.

Not chosen by either side
because you are neither
the fixed nor the broken
so you are left out, outside.

The dance without a partner
that dances with the ghosts
until bones come loose
dropping to the floor.

Merely a point of humour
between whatever functions
and what does not work at all
stuck at a split in the middle.

There is nothing at the divide
and you never really qualified
as the one thing or the other
where they cut the stacked cards.

It is not what they wanted
in that pick and choose of it all
and you feel like you are an effigy
being hung middle of that crowd.

That becomes everyone's fool
hated for trying harder
and blamed for not trying enough
but there are no winning propositions.

You are stuck in the middle
where there is nothing at all
where it hurts more that way
always squeezed for too much.

You tried but you could not
yet you cannot prove you failed
due to any acceptable malfunction
of a defined system or part.

They never gave you that much
and you could only envy others
who had what it takes
on that score or any other.

They simply replace you
and you get all of the blame
followed by all of the complaints
that become a reputation.

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130423B
-----------

Nothing for you here
and nothing for you there
but you feel totally exploited
by your past associations.

You tried to hit the targets
and you tried to make the grade
but no one really wanted any
of your type of score.

No one ever talked about you
in those types of ways
and if you ever made novelty
it was never what was popular.

It is all a sort of sordid act
no matter how you see or turn it
and the worst of fakes make it
as more genuine than you.

There were ways to buy perceptions
but it cost more than you had
and there were always those
making sure you came up short.

It is all over town that you always do
come up short and lack the girth
that could be considered respectable
within the conditions of your confinement.

You know every deal you ever made
was a deal gone entirely wrong
and everyone you ever knew
believed in better options.

You learn to hate the ones
you do not like who want to love you
and you learn to love some you like
who only like to hate you.

You find less and less to talk about
in the progress of that perishing
learning that no one really wants
rumours of you adrift in their tea cups.

The way fortunes are told
sweetened with traces of wishes and beliefs
that you long ago gave up any hopes for
along with many other misunderstandings.

You never really made it
beyond the point of the struggle
and if there was anything you loved
it would leave you dead on the floor.

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140423C
-----------

The slideshow tease is a regular
indication of a current common condition
and something far less
than throwing glances around a room
despite all of the added complications
that are routinely listed or not.

A few of the more courageous
might push a meaningless button
that connects with nothing
but it is only the latest version
of a new style of wish fulfillment
where no one grants any wishes.

I do not like the strange cold world
that we have come to
because there are no real signals
concerning any possible truths
pertaining to any sorts of wanting
anything real about you or me.

There is no point in liking
any real or imagined offerings
because there is nothing to be had
no matter what we might want
from the greatly expanded selection
of true and false questioning.

The truth is always the same
extended spectrum of rejection
in between the various lies
that avoid unpopular revelations
but that too is rejection
and only more of the same.

How does anything really connect
and well, the truth is it does not
making everything so much harder
than it always used to be
as to anything more specific
than a vague and misleading tease.

You want to see if the fish will bite
on that illusion of bait
but without any intent to hooking
anything on that thin thread line
strung between a mash of words
and the exotic eye candy.

Nothing to look after anything
in any real way at all
beyond another objection
might be to anything at all
that cannot ever be over ruled
by anything from above or below.

It is so much easier now
to make it all much more difficult
than it ever was before
but that comes from systems design
and they take no responsibility
for how those dice are loaded.

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140423D
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All that is really missing
is the Dystopian Anthem
but never bother looking for that
because it would be too revealing
as to how it all tends to go
despite how the lyrics are changing.

Your words following new patterns
devised to try to convince me
that we had it wrong all along
and that someone finally put it right
as to who and where and how
it is all supposed to be.

We would have enjoyed something
but no one does that anymore
and you are not brave enough
nor needy enough for an offering
that is not being sanctified
by today's commercial messages.

No more thoughts of any of the bliss
that actually seemed possible
not only entirely plausible
to our overly sinful imaginations
mostly having been black lined out
by the latest spate of censorship.

It only says you cannot really have any
because someone has decided
that you should have something else
that you do not want anything of at all
and they know that you never did
but that is why and reveals a method.

Most of anything that attracted you
having been shifted over and across
into that forbidden zone
where you get absolutely nothing
beyond a pointless pay to view
but not because it was actually harmful.

That has become the new limit
that they have imposed on courage
as to those who dare to cross over
into paying the price of eye fulls
of what has been turned into strange
improbable scenes in impossible places.

What has intentionally hurt you the most
is all that was never actually harmful
having been taken completely away
because someone drew some new lines
you are now required to keep inside of
while trying to colour in your world.

Some people are now being convinced
that they have to use White Out
to cover over everything there is
as if that will free them from the lines
that someone has drawn around them
as to what, where, how, and whom.

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150423A
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All you really ever get
is the empty idea of it all
the concept without substance
the plan without a chance.

They give y ou that much
as you pursue false leads
to anything but satisfaction
in the illusion that you can.

It is not what you ever get
even if you go that far
and it is still the same nothing
at the end of any line.

If you get any real chance
to really connect the dots
your lines will be criticized
for being too straight.

It was only another illusion
that you could ever feel free
beyond that suggestion
that says you lack experience.

It is simply another flavour
that you never got to taste
after being sold on a craving
you never get to satisfy.

That is how it goes down
past the doses of jealousy
and being infected with envy
for what those others get.

You feel like you are a voyeur
looking in through a window
of their very private party
never really being invited.

It is not theirs that you want
but it is too difficult to explain
what it is really like to be a fly
behind the window glass.

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150423B
------------

I never could get in
to your sort of circle
but I never really wanted
to circle round you that much.

I wanted too much
for any of their liking
wanting what a circle is
the shadows and rumours of.

What I really wanted
was a very private affair
where the constraints are undone
and the circles unlocked.

They tend to blame me too much
for wanting to be that free
to you to be you and me to be me
outside the limits of usual fictions.

Now all that I hear of it
is that you had it all
but you had it with someone else
as round go those circles
in the same old places.

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150423C
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I saw your picture book
and flipping through the pages
I could pretend at motions
along the edge of discretion.

It is nothing like an invite
that allows me to know you
the way I would want to
in any of those scenes.

Why did you do that
to unfortunates such as me
exposing secrets and places
where I would want to live.

I do not like it on the outside
always merely looking in
and it makes it harder to know
some really are that way.

The way that you make it seem
that something can be
where the shackles can come of
and the truth is then set free.

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150423D
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It is really nothing new
but there is more of it
and really nothing to be had.

Does not matter what it is
and it does not matter why
it is that you really want it.

You made your wishes same
as those of any wishful fool
assuring a long list of failures.

Each wish revealing something
that wishing takes away
from the reflections in a pool.

You feel like a monkey left to stare
into an empty little pool of wondering
whether you can wash a banana.

There is that sort of drowning
that slowly drowns you out
and gently washes you away.

That sort of gentle and slow
are sometimes the most painful
giving more of the same wishful.

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