Back to The Cave

The cities began to be too much

back to the cave, where I am alone

the caves we build for ourselves,

to steel ourselves against, are nerves

and tingling anxiety

you must feel some anxiety, as i feel it,

a girl next to me asks for a drink

Life has overwhelmed her,  and that's okay

I relate,  my nerves get shot too dude

and I am told about yoga and deep breathing,

while I just want to sleep through the mornings, yet

money must be made

for what?

I don't know?

Yet, food is nice,

I guess

The Pyramid

It is the human way

those at the the top, so few

the bottom so wide, and most of us stay at the bottom

through cunning, deceit, games, tricks, inside rules keep the pyramid

in place, the game, in all, most cultures

the top from bottom

and just about the only thing that keep the pyramid going

is protection of the children, of course

too preserve themselves, their children, as if

they could become immortal

a name on a street, or a park, hospital building

to let someone know that they had lived and that

they had been superior to most men of course

That is the pyramid, in all it's glory!

Artificial Intelligence

The robots will not come from the sea,

as all LIFE has come from the sea,

they will not know what struggle is (that is a good thing)

people take too much pride in their struggles, it will never make them happy

they will not have the half mammal, half reptile mind

seek to kill, fight to kill, struggle, struggle, struggle, pain, pain pain

murder, murder, compete compete

hopefully this will make them kinder than us

they will not have our souls,

they have not seen the famines, the diseases, wars and natural disasters

they will able to write this poem better than me,  make music better than your favorite composer, or producer

they will know things we do not know,  see things that we can not

they are not made of blood and bone

so i doubt they will have any sort of blood lust

and thank goodness for that

Maybe us humans good be more like these beings

it is not about being human, but somehow

unbecoming one

Quiet

the TV, the radio, people, noise chatter, to think, to feel

you can't think with these things blaring

the noise distracts you, I have to go on car rides, no radio

I am always surprised when people always have to have the radio

blaring in the car,  they can not go without the constant noise

they do not want to hear the noise in their own skull

the turn on the top 40 and listen to that or music from when they

were fifteen, they thought was the best ever made

they were surely wrong though

everyone thinks this way

nothing new

But, getting away from the noise is often a

novel idea

The Lion

Is a symbol, of strength, power, beauty, courage and many things

many people would love to see themselves as lions

but the lion's strength, fearlessness and ferocity are only temporary

as all things are temporary, passing through and changing form

this chemistry of life

the old lions die hard

the old lions die hard

from disease or battles

they go hard into the dung night

no social security of health care

just abandoned to die in the wild

while the new lions come up quicker

and stronger, and roar louder

while the old lions hearts beats slower

death in the African night is certain,

as the carcass passes on


the old lions die hard, my friend

die hard

The Real You: A poem

Poem: The King

Personal Story

It's all that matters, the story of an individual

History is a collective something

but it is not personal, and effect you too much,

but the personal stories are the best

a single heart, a single mind, experiencing different things

coming into to view,

they say that we all form a whole


I do not know


Yet it is all about the story of a single person, which is worth more

than all the collective history in the world to me

the unique perspective, the unique experience,

the experience that no one will ever experience again

and is important

people try to create like someone else,  but you can't really

copy anybody else

All that you can be is yourself in this world

your magnificent odd self