If you are reading this poem on a phone, note that the integrity of the lines, a major feature of poetry, is not displayed properly. Many if not most get cut short because of the small screen.
Under Fire Lake with the hatred that rules society. I’m on a mountain. Each new tap on the shoulder crosses worlds Snoopy rides, but I’m into the fire large out on the floor from all the spiritual dawns. You hear the spiritual advice at the Roxie? Knock it off. I’m a tourist information booth.
Everybody has left the United States. We are beached on a poem. There’s nowhere to turn. I’ve fucked up. I’ve called poetry in on its job. I can’t even show you the poem. You’d fight me for it. Guaranteed I’d lose my job, and I’d be homeless again.
What’s these great stakes? Snowball, we’d watch it rise downhill, until my boss heard about it, our not allow four dogs landlord. Can I call them on it? I can describe their preferences that would reach the limit at this poem. How much help they’ve given me would end there.
What I am sayin’? I’ve got a poem to knock your socks off, but you don’t want to read it if you’re a normal American fanfare, if you reach deep in your pocketbooks to exploit people, if you make hell the end of the game for non-Jesus people.
Can I get away with murder? I have to be careful what I say. I can’t open my mouth in poetry. I wanna see my dogs, and I wanna live again. Can you blame me for self-censorship? This isn’t fair. I suffer.
I do not understand capitalism. It won’t accept another way of life that makes sacrifice a way of life, sacrifice for your brother and sister in life, sacrifice to the better in you. We’re beached on whale, and even communism beaches there and our church’s regard.
Come on Sacrifice Capitalism, the laissez faire don’t believe in, can we change the world there? I have a hunch. Before profits we ask need, what’s best for the community, and can we have humanity please considered too? Can we grand the whole world in business decisions so that animals matter and the breath of our life trees, what about for our island Fort Myers Beach?
Sacrifice Capitalism ladies and gentlemen. Work out the details school children in role play, every business leader. The profits take a backseat to need. Can we get there?
Not even to a poem I cannot show you because you would not let me do it, be a poet on live, talk about the weather, and political Christians control the weather that bursts apart in our minds, and money rules the show.
I can’t spit out the juice. I’m not exactly at fault. Do you believe in poetry? It’s just somethin’ to report to your superiors? Now I need everybody to take a deep breath. Is this paper weight? A ninny of a poem, a filler for time shares. Wanna see the real thing? Wanna see it? You do? Do you thirst for it?
I’m on a bank of the Lord deliverin’ the paper. A big decision, and I’m not safe. Ask you another question. Glory did somethin’? Whoa my poem just went in the air. It’s gonna take some doin’ I rush this right through. I’m 33-years-old, givin’ out a lot of free material. They killed him. Damn, you got your hands on me. Do you get me my poetry constituents?
Fire in the yard, I’m gonna put some poetry someplace else, a whole nuther anthem from here. I don’t trust you. You’ll kick me out for poetry. You won’t even give me a chance to bring my dogs to town my poetry has made you so mad.
This is the price you pay for poetry. They take from you what you love. They make you know you must comply in the bowels of the truth and keep your poem from the public mind that would change minds.
“Faiths Are Only a Doubt”, or whatever title it bears, the poem I’m waiting for to set the record straight, is blowin’ in the wind. Can you capitalism that? Can capitalism show that?
Real life forum for the discussion of school peace, a brick, that brick has something to do with you. We don’t wanna do it, continue, and we face certain destruction. Death is ever on our knee, and the world fail is in the picture now. A sudden storm could kill us. We are never safe, and we just explode all the time, come to hope and then crash, come to bay and then sink.
If you are left out of this loop, eventually your cross will come. We are not safe from crisis, and we are manipulated to star’s end over the avoidance of such. Some have good fingers, some no. Just look out for what’s right. You have it all the time, in some speaker in your room.
The avoidance of death is not possible, but we can make peace with our time that comes. We can ground ourselves in reality, and we can even see what’s ahead, and if there’s disaster ahead, well this is the crux of the matter ain’t it? We don’t want the suffering to kill us. We have to find a solution, or chaos reigns.
And what of prolonged disaster? I have been rejected by society like men on death row, and there is no way to climb out of this hole. It’s pleasant enough. I live in a bright home, and no one will see me there. I’m not value to anyone except whom I can count on one hand. This is deliberate and mean. It’s not the normal social isolation. So shoot me for it and let’s move on.
I’ve measured humanity in my bare hands. I have been to the top and the bottom of this old world. I commune with spirits and the impossible. I have seen things you don’t want to see, and I’m not talkin’ murder and mayhem. I’m talking about the fresh expression of the universe ploughin’ us down to make its see, how the Gods sit in their homes and use us as dice in their gambles on the world, and we get crushed, and how God watches too big to help. We are at a certain level of universe that pay the price. We sit on Heaven’s back the sustenance it needs to survive.
I have found a way out of this. I have found the truth of who we are, and it’s a slow movement’s crawl to the goal, when this is time on earth. I’m not filling you with hope I’m filling you with seeing. We are bigger than all that. We are outfielders from another universe that encompasses this one. We abide there now on our tops.
I’m speaking from there in the knowledge I give. It’s clear and certain knowledge, and it will open up the whole world to you one step at a time. It will mitigate disaster, break in on it and help you rise above it. It will sit with you at night and hold your hand. We are a dream weaver’s store lost in our dream, and it’s a collective dream that we share together, and we will wake up together when the time comes. That’s the certainty of dream.
Now can I honest myself here? I’m a pauper when it comes to Earth’s stuff, but I’m rich in meaning’s worth. I’m a brink in the wall that is us, but you can take me out and see time, remove me and see beyond the universe. I crumble in my own hands, and even in my tears, if I cannot feel the joy on my tops, I know it’s there.
I have given formulas for world change, and they go by unnoticed. I have laid practicality at philosophy’s door, given psychology wings, and taken the big questions and answered them right in front of your nose, and the mind meets understanding, and I’m just this existence worth that has no place among you. You think so?
I’m gonna dictate mission impossible. With all due respects, can we land society here, I’m conducting a sense of sacrifice where I meet the world? I’m writing this with a déjà vu. Even if you have not had your lives torn asunder, do not find yourself in hell on earth, or smell that awful stench near, can you make ends meet, support yourself and your family and not have to struggle all the time?
I’m talking to the great majority of mankind. Oh my God, poor people gonna rise up, get their share. [sing this and above line, tune “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution”] Can I sing to you another song? It’s the only way to be human on this planet, whatever your religion or creed or nationality. We temper our hearts with a sense of sacrifice. I’m talkin’ to the captains of business and all who make a profit sting.
You can tax the rich all day, and you haven’t met them in their homes, where they need to see their lives are propped up on so much suffering. Cynical people don’t need me I know, and people that run over other people to make them pay are not interested in changin’, but do we have to back them up in society and pretend it’s not happening, the great rape of mankind?
Yep there is. It’s everywhere apparent, and politicians take off our shoes and show us other stuff. Can any responsible journalist hear me, concerned teacher in school, professor? Preacher from your pulpit look at this, temple master. Can we talk about sacrifice in business as a way to heal humanity, / discuss this every day where politicians get our vote, where the rich see TV and governments listen?
Why is world fail? No matter who you blame it on it always comes down to this: somebody’s getting rich at the expense of others, at the expense of the environment, at the expense of us. It’s not a hole in one each time, and there are other factors, but tell me this one has no bearing on today’s world. Tell me it’s a trivial matter. Why aren’t we talking about it where we rise up and make social change?
I’ve put this in your hands right alongside the transcendent, how we get by in this place. I’ve put it right alongside social justice, without mentioning punishment or the price of beer, I mean sex roles and how you spend them. I’m givin’ yah things to talk about in a voice that matters. I’m showin’ you what’s up. Thank God I’m lost on social media. Just think if word got out. Mainstream do you hear me? I’m lettin’ the cows out. I’m lettin’ the rich hear me. I’m taking social justice by the wings.
What is the formula for world change? C-o-m-e t-o t-h-e t-y-p-e r-o-o-m. Your typewriter to write it. Eternity is a crossing reference for the that’s how the book of love. [sing line from the word that’s] So much more beyond our horizons. I’ve been up there you know, on our tops, and I’ve failed you. I just kept goin’ in an old movie and racked up my isolation today, again and again. Bless you I’m sorry.
Sacrifice is the only way to meet these things: you have to have it, and it hurts other people. Nothin’ you could do but give that up: boy I hurt you. This lasts a long time, where you find others lookin’ at yah funny and suspicious of your every move. You will not be rewarded for sacrifice.
Get that through your thick head if you’re making a profit on people’s pain. Turn philanthropist I’m sorry, and you’re givin’ till it hurts because you love them so, well that’s tough idn’t it, no one believes you. You’re still around money.
But you’ve come a long ways, and you’re not doin’ this for the praise of the crowd. That’s hypocrisy. You sacrifice your Wall Street for love. I can’t tell you how to do that, fall in love with everybody, and with some people it will never work, but you at least learn to identify with them. It does start with empathy, and then it goes through spiritual change. You see the oneness danglin’ everywhere, and you want to make it right with all there is. I guess that’s the stoppin’ point for this poem: let’s begin that shall we?
Harm's End 