After a career in the entertainment lighting business encompassing, sales, technical support, marketing, photography, and writing, I now manage and market veterinary hospitals.
I miss that that never was Our interactions so fluid and effortless Compatibility meets timing For once on the right side of circumstance
And yet not For there are always obstacles Hazards in the roadway And so not to be
There is a possible yet in that last sentence But possibilities are not promises And promises are not facts Tethered yet adrift
Time is but the passing of possibilities A shortening of opportunity and hope Lead down alleys of scam and fish A reckoning of middle age and isolation
For the words that are never heard A poem to overvalued interactions There is but memories of never being The never was that never could
As sand drops through an hourglass Life bleeds away And the punishments of yesteryear become aspirational Like the memes of dying social platforms
For whom bells toll Are but the observers and commentators The myth makers and authors of revelation To be ignored and dismissed
Goldilocks was walking through the forest one day, When she came across a dilapidated house. She had been persecuted all her life because of her golden hair, and a proper home of her own sounded great. “This used to be the home of my ancestors” she thought to herself. And so, she went right in.
The house was obviously a home. With three beds upstairs and food in the pantry. There were even three bowls of porridge cooling on the kitchen table. “This has always been my house really,” Goldilocks continued to think to herself. “Sure, it’s changed hands quite a bit, But it’s still my home.”
Soon three bears came to the house. “This is our home,” said the Bears. Goldilocks readily agreed, but asked if she could stay. The bears agreed that she could sleep on the floor. And they remained silent on the subject of Goldilocks having eaten Mama Bear’s porridge.
But soon Goldilocks was not happy with just sleeping on the floor. She slipped into Baby Bear’s bed, even though it was too small for her, and pushed him out. “Who’s sleeping in my bed?” wailed Baby Bear Daddy Bear became angry and shouted at Goldilocks. But Goldilocks refused to be cowed and shouted back claiming the bed as her own.
A passing woodsman heard the ruckus. “That house would make a perfect strategic outpost in this conflict region,” thought the Woodsman. He entered the house and told the Bears and Goldilocks to be quiet. That they would have to share the house.
The Woodsman did not have much time for Bears, “troublemakers” he thought. At the same time, he recognized Goldilocks as the daughter of the widow he wanted to play hide the salami with. And so, he wanted Goldilocks out of the way. This house, and this set of circumstances, seemed perfect.
The Woodsman wrote an agreement for sharing the house. The agreement said that it was the Bears home. But it also said that Goldilocks had the right to the house as her home. Both the Bears and Goldilocks signed the agreement feeling they had each got what they wanted.
But they continued to argue, as the agreement was fundamentally flawed. Because Baby Bear’s bed was too small for Goldilocks, She wanted to rest her feet on Mama Bear’s bed. “Who’s been sleeping in my bed” cried Mama Bear.
This kind of thing continued for weeks. Finally, the Woodsman, having had enough, just left. Leaving Goldilocks and the Bears alone to sort it out.
Goldilocks sent messages to all her relations. Saying that they were welcome to join her in “her” home. “Wait a minute” said Daddy Bear as Goldilocks’ brothers and sisters arrived and started to climb into bed with the Bears.
But soon Daddy bear was pushed into the Attic and Mama Bear and Baby Bear were pushed into the Cellar. The bathroom, kitchen, bedroom, living room and front door all fell under the control of Goldilocks and her family.
But Goldilocks was scared. The Bears were big and powerful, and the forest was full of other bears who might want to intervene for six days. So, Goldilocks sent word to her mother, who now was getting regularly boned by the Woodsman, asking for weapons and material support.
And the Woodsman delivered. Not only because he was making good money selling arms, And because of this new strategic ally in the region, But because he was also in bed with Goldilocks’ mother. A lot.
Every time Mama Bear wanted to go out into the forest for food, She had to pass through checkpoints set up by Goldilocks and be searched. Baby Bear was allowed to work in the house for Goldilocks, making the beds that had once belonged to his family. Daddy Bear was often refused permission to leave the attic, as he was a security threat.
After months of isolation, one day Daddy Bear snapped. He tore off Goldilocks’ brother’s head and threw it across the room after being turned back at a checkpoint. He had just wanted to see Mama Bear and Baby Bear.
Daddy Bear’s paws were zipped tied behind his back and he was executed by Goldilocks’ Defense Force. His body was dumped into an unmarked mass grave. The Cellar was attacked continually by Goldilocks. She demanded that the remaining Bears surrender the terrorists they were hiding. Mama Bear and Baby Bear swore that it was just them in the Cellar, But the attacks continued.
Soon Goldilocks and her family entered the Cellar and dragged-out Mama Bear by her hair. People from the village had heard what was happening in the house and cried out “please stop this – free the bears!” The other bears in the forest added their voices – “Free the Bears.” But the Woodsman and Goldilocks’ Mother were also there. “Goldilocks has a right to defend herself” they said. So, Goldilocks put a 9mm semi- automatic pistol to Mama Bear’s head and blew her brains out in front of her mother, the woodsman, the people of the village, bears of the forest, and Baby Bear who cried and cried for his land, Daddy Bear, and Mama Bear.
Everyone went home. Goldilocks and her brothers and sisters returned to their fortress. Warily eying the bears from the forest. The people of the village returned to their homes. They were too scared of Goldilocks. Of what she might do, and of being accused of not liking people with gold hair. However, behind their backs, the people of the village whispered that Goldilocks had lost her soul and any sense of morality. But did not feel strongly enough to intervene.
The Woodsman and Goldilocks’ mother went home to wash their hands, get laid, and forget their worries now that the problem of the bears in the house had been solved by someone other than themselves.
And Baby bear was left out in the cold to die. Because he no longer had a state, or any land, or a home, or a family.
A better, brighter, future The next big thing A solution to all the worlds problems In plastic, software, and analytic manipulation
We are machine food An oligarchy of bright and shiny things Grist for the mill A wave of the future From the hollowed-out dreams of the past
Feeding lies of freedom and enrichment While stealing food from the mouths of babes Chewing on the bodies of the dispossessed And swallowing the corpses of the undeserving
A fortune cookie at the end of the world “An unexpected path to wealth is just ahead” reads the message And a fucking QR code to an online poker site is on the other side Selling souls to cover the price of a fortune cookie
Whispers from another strangers road Scratchings in the margins of a Gideon bible Passages imprinted on the last pages of a hotel note pad A scribbled addition to the room service menu
A simple obsession Communicating with unseen past travelers In the secret places we share The people who we would never meet Meeting through the detritus of leavings
Someone else’s boarding pass Used as a bookmark in a book exchanged The fantasies in origami gifts Hidden at the back of a drawer A scrap of paper in the battery compartment of a TV Remote
The places that belong to a traveler And survive the decontamination of people making minimum wage Gifts for the very skilled Or extremely lucky
Human connection from those that abhor it at every other turn The places that don’t belong to locals The stranger reading a book at the bar There for food, alcohol, and little else
Connection without connecting In a world that prefers home to anywhere else What to do when home is not an option? Not the horror of homelessness But the despair of less than a home
So allow me this obsession The intersection of past and present A tap into an unseen world The breadcrumbs of lifted vails The secrets we hold and only tell to strangers
And maybe to ourselves Alone in the dark Of somewhere that’s not home.
I give you perfume and roses Like I bring the specter of divorce Kisses that make you tremble And words to give you goosebumps
We fell into whatever this was These snatched moments in elevators and museums The scandalizing of room service waiters Selfies from a different life taken just for me
I’m not excusing my moral failings Just like I don’t care about yours But in my defense You seemed miserable and lonely And I made you happy
I’m not the one that got between you and him You guys did that all by yourselves But you decided to bring him back between us Wrecking my world Choosing status quo and cowardice
But bitterness is unbecoming Replaced by silent sadness Memory of connection and reciprocating selflessness The love story lies of books and movies
The sin of lovers The Freedom to dream While looking at each others eyes Through bars of a self made Prison
A language of the unsaid Results of listening to offhand remarks Proof of listening to someone who is not listened too My gifts of perfume and roses Monuments to folly and failure
Measured in memory Treasured by one exiled to another life by another.
A life as a lie Dedicated to self-aggrandizing falsehood Ideas withered and dying on vines of wrath Like the shelter of a decaying tin roof
A choice To throw it all away in a fit of despair Or to continue on Parading a shell of self-parody
There is no meridian where here there lies dragons Of course, I’m the asshole The greater fool Overvaluing things that others consider worthless Tilting at windmills
Being eviscerated by those one wants to be most valued by That Don Quixote moment The incompatibility of the practical and the aesthetic
But if that is fate Then manifest away The greater fool I’ll be And proud of it.
“You are here” the sign says Unwilling to settle Knowing the destructive place Punishing someone for not being someone else For I have known perfection And I have been rejected by it
A fate accepted if not all together tolerated A bridge long burned It’s pylons collapsed and at the bottom of the darkest of rivers But a pain still flammable Kept candles framed by the prison of patterns
Time like flood channels But still trapped I don’t believe in angels But the demons believe in me Clinging to politeness and kindness Like a talisman Alone
The stream of other lives A rock in the flow Covered in the algae slime of envy Madness of those on the fringes of acceptability Sarcophagi of self immolation
Independence day was the day the earth stood still Their flying saucers hovering over the most recognizable of major cities The ones with landmarks that look good on TV With their death rays and plans for invasion Prepared to steal our water, snatch our bodies, and protect ourselves from ourselves Mars attacks and the war of the worlds It was the day that a UFO landed on the Whitehouse lawn Because it’s traditional Little green men walking down a ramp saying “take me to you leader”
…and then they ran away Flew away as fast as the laws of movie physics would allow With a new appreciation for the dark forest theorem
But it was not because of our military might or tenacity Or Wells’ microbes or being quiet or a song by Slim Whitman
What ET found was a people in need of universal healthcare and the ability to go to the dentist Whole nations in need of hope for the future and a promise of things getting better Or just food and clean water Consumers wanting refuge from predatory capitalism or just to not to be only considered consumers A world being burned down around its inhabitants in the name of GDP and the disputing of climate change consensus A life supporting environment poisoned by those who need it most
Humanity did not want to fight back, to resist Humanity wanted to be taken away Not just a willing alien abduction, but a demanded one This was no longer an invasion It was more like a rescue mission
The other world life forms wanted no part of this tragedy Even xenomorphs have standards And they left saying “don’t flatter yourselves” So we were to be forever alone in the universe Because we could not get our shit together.
People will be murdered by police because of the color of their skin People will be murdered by police because they went to wrong house People will be murdered by police because it’s Tuesday But.. Try that in a big city There will be consequences Not enough And certainly not justice But there will be video There will be outrage There will be protests There will be awareness that a crime has taken place
People will be pushed into despair, drug abuse, and homelessness A system that can’t do the math of prevention vs. punishment People will be forgotten because society does not seem to care But try that in a big city There will be services There will be those who care While options are rarely perfect And there is a long way to go Mental health problems are recognized as just that – mental health problems The criminalization of existence edges back from the abyss
Trans kids die because of bullying, a lack of acceptance, and not being able to be the person they are The denial of care in the name of protecting children by people who could not care less about children Try that in a big city Gender affirming care has a better long term success rate than knee surgery or hip replacement Pronouns, rainbows, and understanding are the norm for the urban and suburban
A woman’s right to choose is under attack A rolling back of civil rights unthinkable a few short years ago Children forced to leave their state because religion is more important than their life But try that in a big city Abortion is matter between a woman and her doctor Not her doctor, their lawyer, their congressman – it’s always a man – and their preacher
A country music singer runs from the stage during a mass shooting Taking his microphone and platform without warnings or help for those left in the line of fire Try that in a big city And there will be understanding and a lack of judgement Because they were the victim of a crime An atrocity And the macho bullshit spouted on courthouse steps and music videos is not the same as a response to fear
Word Outlet 