Uneven Identity

It begins again
Media hypocrisy
Reinforcing men
Masculine Sacristy

It begins again
Canonization sexy
Creating women
A false domesticity

It begins again
A fake serenity
The past is re-run
Counterfeit identity

Identity made
To negotiate culture
Becomes a charade
Lies’ infrastructure

The soul I’ve become
In society’s labyrinth
Untruths that I’ve spun
Are Lies’ temple’s columns’ plinths

It all ends sometimes
Life’s uncertainty
Destroys our sublime
Fate’s an entity

Reading the scriptures
Of this barbed reality
Written in markers
Common Man’s humanity

To the winner’s history
That never forgive
Avarice’s mystery

More Less Sonnet

I composed a sonnet on depression
About waking & seeing no beauty
Makes me want to cancel today’s lesson
This morning’s day seems like a bleak duty

I see no reason for optimism
Can’t imagine how things will get better
Feeling this trapped is totally dismal
& living this sadness will me fetter

I don’t understand Why I feel this way
(I am usually pretty happy)
But, plagued by these feelings I can’t allay
This beautiful life starts to seem crappy

Fourteen lines can never explain sadness
(How it steals hope & delivers madness!)

Funky Morning Sonnet

Some mornings I awake in love with life
Seeing the poetry in my grading
Others are cut off the week with a knife
Only my depression are they aiding

The fog that encumbers my existence
Obscuring the beauty I remember
On mornings I get up to resistance
Is my hurt soul’s invisible member

Inches above this bleak early morass
Is the surface that I usually
Love o’er the moist depression I lambast
That mornings bring institutionally

I will create my day’s activities
& fight depression with proclivities

Social Media Mea Culpa Sonnet

Sharing my prejudice’s suspicions
On Facebook as news unfolds in real time
Permits me to share my wild opinions
In prose & poems that I think sublime

Occasionally I misread events
Claim amateur terrorism’s “false flag”
& wrongly blame some errant innocents
These are the hazards of being a wag

Sometimes I misread other people’s posts
& write insultingly wrong doggerel
I have to own up to the errant boasts
& work on my shame degree doctoral

This is my mea culpa of Facebook
It’s important I admit I’m a snook

The Last Beard of a Killer

Islamic terrorism was Mateen’s
Very last act of closeting himself
This ultra-macho identity seems
Best able to keep his “gay” on the shelf

The regressive revolutionary
Religious camouflage obscures his doubts
Reducing his life to a binary
Narrative that ev’ry religion touts

ISIL, Al Qaeda & Hamas all
Fight for cockamamie ideas of pasts:
They the harmonious modern forestall
To try to regain their powers that lapsed

The dreary nostalgia of religion
Is the zealot’s favorite clay pigeon

Alleged Lover Of Omar Mateen Claims Orlando Shooting Was “Revenge” For Being Exposed To HIV

Cornucopia of Oblivian’s Workers Headline Sonnet

“Cops bust two men with storage locker stuffed
With Brooklyn synthetic marijuana
[Men are hustling to provide enough
Drugs to make us think we’re in nirvana]”

The demand for a narcotic escape
From unrelenting capitalism
Or noble unending people’s debate
In the lofty halls of Communism

Shows the working class’s lemming-like-march
Towards the arctic abyss (where glaciers were).
We have made free time our enemy arch
And we seek drugs & booze to the lines blur

So we seek out ev’rything that’s nothing
To keep us from feeling past our greed’s stuffing

http://nydn.us/2cLZGn0 #HeadlinePoem

Blythe Interiority Sonnet 7


Squandering time with my thoughts
I wander the internet
Looking for outrageous acts
Insisting I know what’s best

It’s only here that I’m whole
Within consciousness’ cage
On this grassy knoll, I stroll
Prospecting for my lost rage

Thought’s value’s underrated
It’s an existence released:
Always free & un-gated
To all but people deceased

So if you are wondering
Remember “Bored’s” a blessing