Prose – Liferaft in the Abyss

I want to breathe….

My throat feels raw,constricted…. The ar is thick withwill h smog of cars andjets. For better air I mustrise above it. I want to breathe, as a freed man, fulfilled in deeds and In spirit. Some day, that will be.

It’s a human right….

To end your life. How ever will know what’s over that hill you couldn’t clime, But instead out. It’s like leaving the theater on a good movie because of bad popcorn. Get over the, Then be richer for it.

Californiaflaky

It’s like…. An apple pie with a crust so flaky That you eat very little of it. They’re nice folks, some have nothing under their crust. Or ugly things…. I’ve never been to Warsaw ghetty, I’d swear I saw the gestapo tearing down tents Herding their dwellers into camps…. Oh, I’ve seen filth lying inContinue reading “Californiaflaky”

Death on 9th Street

“San Diego, CA., Most Beautiful City In America.” Grieving, candles burning the streets. Someone died here. Two days ago, A tent neighborhood was here, ‘luxuary’ apartments towering above. And the neighborhood is gone.

….try, try again.

Of course…. Can you anyone Win against mother nature? Just when you righted yer’ rudder, A freakish wave cums through, Doing what you’ve Done: Ride along. Ah, well…. If you don’t succeed….

Crappy movies

I have noticed in the movies that humanity has less humanity. Humans still die very well. Lacking character and creativity….

I don’t like pink.

Yes, that’s right; I don’t like the color pink. I hate pink. It Clashes with my sense of empowerment. I don’t like pink, especially when it comes to the feminine. It says ‘weak’, ‘lesser sex’, ‘gays and lesbians belong in concentration camps’. And that the wearer can be abused as and Short changed. Why peopleContinue reading “I don’t like pink.”

Some stuff, some prose.

I’ve seen…. People keep so much, there is no room to live. 21st century life style, buying our lifestyles of glut, eating plastics in our fish. and child labor is OK. The wealthier you are, the weaker you grow.

A personal problem, a poem.

Some porn suggested, that I should give in to my desires…. I desire a higher purpose than merely being alive. My life matters! My death matters! What matters most Is the Fermi Paradox….

They wore white sheets…., a poem.

The shootin’ started over The lids of coffins, One group of shooters were burying people trying to vote, I could hear their crys from under their lids. The shooters wore white sheets, burned down the town, torched my house. But you didn’t kill us, We still rise….