I’m Tired

“I’m tired, people. I’m tired of everything. I’m tired of hate. I’m tired of politics.

I’m tired of living behind an eyepatch because I need to protect my family.

I’m tired of aggressive misappropriations. I’m tired of zealots. I’m tired of ignorance leading the day. I’m tired of stupid people having really stupid opinions.

This world is going to hell & I don’t want to go for that ride.

We’ve backed ourselves into a corner & now we can only choose evil. It’s heartbreaking & stressful.

Those who know me know that I haven’t been myself lately.

This is a dark period for our society. We will not look back on this time fondly. There is a lot of pain out there.

If you do not condemn the hate, then you are accepting it. Love is not enough. It is not us & them. This is agendas. This is the media choosing what they want to tell the public to support their own ideals.

Take a moment to decide how you want to live your life.

I choose to not be part of any group. I do not represent anyone outside of myself. I am me. Judge me for my own actions.

I will do my best to honor you in the same fashion.”

I wrote this in the fall of 2016. We have changed nothing since then. We still are choosing political parties and special interest groups over our children and neighbors. What will it take for us to learn?

Timid Changes To The Way We Survive

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Timid changes to the way we survive
Ducking our heads when the water finally rises
Perpetual fatigue ponders if we’re still alive
Each heartbeat wrapped within fervent surprises

Another day emerges from the absence of light
This mug of swill – my only source of heat
Creaking past the endless repetition of night
Punch drunk, but still standing; never admitting defeat

Break Free From All Your Interlocking Rules

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Break free from all your interlocking rules
Unsatisfactory way to start your day
Too fatigued to suffer gladly these fools
Waiting for a sunrise in an errant way

I’d rather return to my bed, closing my eyes
No other way to explain how I’m so damn tired
Can’t get my life together after all these tries
My number always called, but I’m feeling expired

What will it take for me to finally see
Time to stumble forward for that pot of coffee

Liberation Granted By The Morning Alarm

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Liberation granted by the morning alarm
Still alive; this body aching with rippling fatigue
October visions, yet I’m safe from obvious harm
Visions dwindling; remnants of horrific intrigue

Seeking out coffee to loosen this slumber
A stretch & chance to deliberately mourn
These dreams encrusted in burnt umber
Sworn to abide by the wisdom of Nat Hawthorn

The terror that befalls us when we’re unaware
Soon free from the slow tolling of the funeral bell
Needful sleep caught us within a nightmare
Unconsciously breaking from a manufactured hell

Visions of dropping acid with William Blake
Dawn is our escape; returning to peace as we wake

Telling Stories After Dark

Telling stories after dark
Occasionally with Tom Waits in the lead
Fantastical little allegories
Bringing a light to those souls in need

No need to whisper in the shadows
Luminous words to prepare the way
Removing barriers to our enlightenment
Witticisms fleshed out & on display

Short tales to get creative juices flowing
Harking back to dreams that we might meet
Subtle differences between the pauses
Allowing our imaginations to properly greet

Scenes from our own round table
Foreplay within our cheeky banter
Conjuring visions of a keen passion
Diluted memories at the bottom of our decanter

Bad behavior leads to a more examined life
Though through fiction we can live eternal
A little more sensitive than you want to believe
Yearning to be held by a beautiful dame so maternal

Out here with our hearts raised to the sky
Searching for better answers on the midnight shore
With the freedom to imagine wisdom laid bare
Parsed theories for when we sent them off to war

Subtle manipulation within our romantic esthetics
Unreliable narrators marching; our literary brigade
There’s no vernacular for hearts’ folly
Pushing forth our gentle notion love might persuade

In the end, dear friends, our parable is contrite
In this heinous world, we all have a simple choice
I lay myself to slumber, a fatigued sailor
Wishing for a lullaby coming from Nick Cave’s voice

 

Image by Eli Digital Creative from Pixabay

I Went For A Walk In The Predawn Hours

I went for a walk in the predawn hours
I could feel something wasn’t quite right
’Twas a red sky morning/sailor take warning
Amiss; something’s gone bump in the night

There was a time I went walking in the woods
Fatigued; this existence has become too tense
It was there I encountered the damned zombies
They stole my peace along with my sensibility & sense

Now, I don’t do much walking outside of the wire
If I must, I seek protection from my Heavenly Lord
I never fail to bring along a prayer upon my lips
& in my hand the weight & might of the Wu-Tang sword

*found this graffiti in Wilhelmshaven, Germany in 2017

Looking For A New Sunshine

Looking for a new sunshine
Eclipses as the morning grows
Coffee slowly loses its warmth
The way only the fatigued might know


Sleepless nights convort to visions
Dreams well placed into our eyes
Caffeine not enough to shake souls
Waking to these cotton candy skies


Spinning my empty cup on the table
Attempts at any fully formed thought
My mind completely wiped clean
I spy my woman’s naked form; damn she’s hot!

Forgotten In The Ether

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Forgotten in the ether
Against the stones on the shore
Fatigue hitting hard at sunrise
Before the day might restore

You cannot outlive a memory
Our fates left to a diminished chance
Bound to the sea by luck or force
Drifting silently with suspicious circumstance

Dog eared postcards & other totems
Words from home to quench the tide
Meandering scribbles in the margin
Dreading the prospect of another ride

Poseurs, Pacifists & Poets Reek

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Poseurs, pacifists & poets reek
Sitting high on a lifeguard shack
Nighttime cloaked down upon us
Words in darkness never taken back

Ocean waves break the silence tonight
Only our thoughts to be heard otherwise
Isolation not what you thought it’d be
Tearing out your incessant broken eyes

Midnight sounds to be held on tight
A swim where you can never return
A fatigue to be felt deep down
Love exposed to moonlight will forever burn

I’m Tired, Weary, Fatigued, However You Want To Call It

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I’m tired, weary, fatigued, however you want to call it
This world is tearing itself apart, with no end in sight
Neighbors can’t stand the appearance of each other
If we don’t swerve, we’re all going to face the fiery night
Reject hate, reject them, reject the world’s system
I don’t care if kindness long ago went out of fashion
Don’t accept your options, make your own way
We need return to art, return to love & compassion
‘They’ are anyone who’ll tell you we can’t survive
Without stooping down to unconscionable degrees
Rebel, refuse & reclaim enlightenment & love
Lead ourselves away from their dysfunctional societies
God reserves a place in Hell for those who spout hate
Whether you believe in Christ or what Buddha taught
Love doesn’t see the differences between us
We can do better; a peaceful way must be sought
Politicians are no more than door to door salesmen
Fraudulent purveyors of the American dreamscape
But we, the silent underground, emerging each day
Fed up with their vision, proof that heroes don’t wear capes

 

Image by Grae Dickason from Pixabay

Standing Wobbly-Legged

Standing wobbly-legged

Spread stance, with a mock salute

Whispering; describing her desires

Soon, I hope she won’t be so mute

Passion of an fantastical nature

Possibly seeming like it’s unreal

Motioning me to come forth 

Promises of a love I can feel

Building to a palpable potency 

A tangible form of bemused intrigue

Charmed to dizzying arousal 

Winding to a whirlwind fatigue 

With which note to thoroughly enchant 

Steps so sure that time cannot lapse

A smirk; mouthing words to erupt 

But knowing I’ll finally leave her unclasped

The Wind Howling At Midnight

 

The wind howling at midnight
Broken windows – open to the outside air
Exposed to the communal by-passer
Her soul had fallen into disrepair
Fatigue & listless emotions manifesting
Immune to careless compliments
Time to pause & regroup her focus
Happiness born from common sense

Choosing Certain Words

  

Choosing certain words
With connotations to stir
The hearts of the audience
Cocked crow with pubic fur
Sitting uncomfortably – like whaa?
Where the hell is he going with this
Delusional in this rehabilitating fatigue
Longing for the peace that I miss