The price of the future

Exist in the existential 

the crisis governed by tech giants and moguls 

quantum computing 

rooting for data 

Something that hates you and 

our essence 

more despised than a unlucky pheasant 

about to be killed

we are the working class poor and disabled 

checkmated in the game and despised because we are mentally ill

In the wrong way 

depressed and anxious 

rather than Sadomasochists with a superficial superiority complex 

who sit with the latest tech 

in their mansions 

taking their chances all too soon

from us and causing us gloom

entering our digital tomb

where there’s no room

for our slave driven mindset ways

other than to serve the corporations and billionaires 

the ones who say empathy is death and decay 

and pray for our demise

hit with no surprise 

this is the price we pay 

for our dystopian future 

no one wants 

hidden by computer fonts 

and AI

our overlords

who hoard wealth and knowledge like weapons

and fuck us with digital strap ons.

Every wise man sings the blues

This is the life my habits choose

love might be be a losing game

but don’t fear the bruise.

there may be choice

where you hear your own voice

and know for certainty

your own adversity

and grow towards the light like a plant

learn that music flows through you like a dance

There maybe suffering here

Every wise man may sing the blues

but at least he knows he’s yesterday’s news

and our children’s children are the future we have to protect

Mother Earth has to be given love and respect

in the eyes of every living creature

is that love we hide

But it’s as constant as the seas tide

flowing back and forth

As we stride searching for the answers

which have been in us since the start

eyes of wonder

and big hearts.

Lament of the sparrowman

In a down and out town
Lives a man not occupied enough to be a clown
the jokes on him
and the joke wears thin
living in the past
cast in the jaws of hell that last
and captures all his virtues narrowed
by fate in acting up too late he is a sparrow
locked in a cage
Mindless and in a unconscious rage
he may tweet on Twitter
and he has a lot to witter
on about
but his mind is full of doubt
and opportunities don’t come often
to soften
the blows which rain down from people with agendas
who will take advantage of misadventure
and misfortune
he is a drunken loon
not by alcohol but by the moon
insanity is casting aspersions
and his friends leave and desert him
he yearns like the sparrow to fly free
but he hasn’t got heaven’s key
medical sedatives don’t inspire visions
What he needs is a decision
to break with the past.