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Does each have a name? I consider the stern ants… From the top of my high rise. . Sunset, park just closed New friend, the ringing phone booth! The little bird sings. . Deportation time! A mass of people line up And wait for the buss. . He makes a promise Somehow that’s anesthetic “This won’t hurt a bit.” . After work hours, Brilliant innovator’s Sale cons my wallet. . Hoping it will change So I’m throwing bricks at it It’s a wall, I know. . Chaos, half-done mess… “Why has God forgotten me?” Asks the canvas, wet. . Church,...

Can it please feel less? That feeling in my chest. I know the world isn’t real, But still I have to feel. Quieting that overburdened melody, In my heart box. Can I please cut it out in exchange, For a bigger and more sensible brain? Anything less quick to ache and pain, Like something from a machine! That’ll just beat, and beat, and beat, and beat… All punctually punctilious, And wholly inconspicuous. Quiet you! Over-pronounced melody, Considering my heart box. Perhaps I can, please… Contrive a means to make it cold? I’d buy it as medicine for my soul, And...

She’s collecting stars Strewn upon the pavement, blind Sweeping shop keeper . Friend to the bottle Curls softly beneath the smoke A cigarette bud . I can read the lines Blisters tell us we’re stronger Callus on my hands . Flower-stand baby At the intersection where The cars pass him by . Farewell family Next to a slaughtered forest A dying tree seeds . Exiled to a cart God, tell her she’s forgiven So she can go home . A stale smell downstairs Follow a cough and the blues Rain, wet cigarettes . All quiet except A guitar in the...

Something beautiful I watch it from a distance Love makes us so strong . Glass shards on the street To cut the soles of my shoes Neon sign flickers . The last survivor On the concrete corner, cracked Dandelion bloom . Newspapers stuffed clothes Spare her most the cold Lying on a bench . Brush stroke clouds on blue Splendidly powdered colors His concrete canvas . A playful rattle Smiling with only one tooth I throw him a coin . On a pedestal The oracle foretells doom Speak it, preacher man . Street lights in the sky Where do the...

Science Daily recently published an article entitled, “Computer ‘Trained’ to Classify Pictures and Videos Basing on Elements They Contain” “University of Granada researchers have developed a new computer technique that allows to “train” computers to interpret the visual contents of a video or picture. This advance will allow to classify automatically pictures basing on whether individuals or specific objects are present in such images. Videos can also be classified according to specific poses.” And ChatBots.Org has a video interview with Hugh Loebner. Worth the read and look to tickle the inner geek. I remember talking with someone in 2000 about...

Today I found God! In the palm of my hand… In him I trust, to pay My daily quarter-pound ham. Obliged by my deity to spend Sweet insatiable demands. My God is generous and wants me to have; Minivans, and drive-throughs, superficial devotions, Better job performance, less headaches and more sex, The more I have, the more I wish I had less… Great pleasure-seekers addicted to routine! Save my soul savings for satisfaction guarantees… Humor me please, real people, real beef, I am what I eat; domesticated meat. Sweet liberty never felt so free, When I spend my freedom on...

The devil hides in the madness of the masses. Not in the actions of the few. True enemy, a great deception, but who are we to deceive? I, ourselves, you, or me? That great foe of any people lies not in prejudice determined by color, race, or creed. It hides within the power hungry drive of a people, The united whim, blind by their own wants and greed. So who am I to point and speculate blame, At any one christian, muslim, man or saint? When the fool in each of us drives, All the world insane.

Never-mind the never-ends Their world is round and spins It wont stop, its seasons change It wont pause for life to stay The same as it behaved just yesterday Never-mind those never-ends Nothing waits as life revolves In a spinning space that knows no bounds Where somewhere little beings stand quite tall On their little pavement covered ball Very-minding the always-wheres The always-is and always-wills Better-thans and better-ares So completely and fully in charge Then one day some obvious change Came into play as it could and may It wouldn’t see them regardless how great Nor mind their efforts to...

Nomadic Scriptures by the insane i come from nowhere and will probably end the same who am i then, not lost but forever wondering through my nowhereland… along the way a man enlightened, so proud and great, he knew to teach me the way and directed me to… confide my soul to priests that boast possession over faith and suffer religion to devalue god into another cheapened artifact to fear but i, truly mad, chose to suffer hell in life rather than surrender myself to the proud and blind Nomadic Scriptures from an unsound mind i come from nowhere and...

in the land of once-upon-a-time the wind fell silent and the sky came to a halt over unending desert where there where once rivers, now cracks of sick earth, all water turned to salt, a funeral for the last true plant that dies then withers where the uncultivable of animal, displeasing to the palate, lie in bone short-term greed reaps the proud seeds so long ago sown in slow aftermath only manufactured impressions of life remain when the only way of life is under artificial light menacingly gnawing at the skin of superficial creatures who became alien to their own...

Spare me the company, friend or love Deity, heaven, or all of the above If love means to be loved for what I’m not And salvation received from another that’s just as lost When I know so well — it’s easy to tell, Paradise has no place for me, Disfavored by grace, freely I’ll follow those who fell Left to my own devising, I plant myself a garden just outside of hell

Those that had little to begin with know they need less Those that knew naught but wealth are truly repressed Neither fortune, nor fame spares a lonely end And even the greatest legends and legacies fade away Friends come and go, and family might stay, but come what may All I will ever have is myself and the little moments of today Let the world convince me that I am but a menial dreamer Beautiful naivety, my dreams are sweet and I’ll be freer Let all strangers blind me with a thousand musts and needs Rather ambitiously, my nothings are...

The old man dies and the young man crawls The sick do the same and the poor knows all But some rise to hold their head high fearless of the night that falls disregarding come what mays or all the grievances of yesterdays true beauty is forged from chaos and in that beaten down moment of hopeless loss neither god nor martyr will know a greater heaven than the undaunted pauper who simply laughed at fate

tirelessly, I battle invisible monsters, and combat fate along a journey I chose long ago. no rest, where can I go? to flee those inescapable demons and doubts. greater men had died for less… than relentless ideals or artificial ambitions. circumstantial successes, have seen many lost in a bubble. those that live free are truly sublime, and freedom is the conquest of fear. ascension of the divine… I am the consequence of what I choose to believe, and the power of choice, none other but mine. a delicate balance of perspectives, perception is but opinion, and hardship but a point...

Alexis (By Tanja The Awesome) just finished a new how-to on how to attain the perfect duckface. I’ll be practicing.

hope is the mother of misery i find myself growing weary of her presence and outlasting tests of time to beg mercy of an invisible god that isn’t there nor doesn’t care and re-invent reasons to endure attempt after trial, unto my last breath make-believe defeat, faithlessness is a passing cure even the strongest can’t persist indefinitely

dead trends, and lost feelings leave vacant bodies where a man’s soul would be infatuated by commodities and small talk washed out love songs, and greeting card cliches everything can be had, even love, but is it true? a civilized life is stripped of meaning I take comfort in knowing I can die sweet solitude, there’s no place I’d rather be and no other company I’d rather keep hiding within myself I find refuge in dreams