Poetry: Last Breath

The smell of nascent death
Just scant few hours left
The loss of an eye’s depth
On the draw of the last breath

It’s harrowing and ethereal
Frozen with no way to feel
An embrace of pity
Coupled with a kiss of mercy

Sometimes it’s easier to let go
Than stick with what we know
There was once love here
A privilege co-opted by fear

Poetry: When Real Life is a Television Show (You Can't Change the Channel)

When real life is a television show
You can't change the channel
Whitewash reality as the mold grows
In the grasp of their trammels

Their prowess and technology allows
Manipulation of everything you see
Leaving little clue to you or me
What's real or not on our TV

False flag at Gulf of Tonkin
So many brainwashed noggins
No one thinks to question
What really happened on 9/11

It's all about me, me, me
Maybe someday I'll be ordinary
Just like those folks on TV
Is it real just because you see?

Human manipulation on unseen scales
The sloths yawn as industry fails
The loss of thought and skill
Watching reruns, endless Coke refills

When real life is a television show
You can't change the channel
Whitewash reality as the mold grows
In the grasp of their trammels

Poetry: The Virus (Conspiracy of One)

Take some drugs
Drink this beer
Maybe you should
Maybe you oughta

Kill yourself
Seek religion
Maybe you should
Maybe you oughta

Listen to me
Become one of us
Maybe you are
Maybe you aren't

Every thing you know is wrong

Every thing we say is right

Re-Educate
Join us

Deny self
Join the conspiracy
One of us, one of us
No self
Disparage individual
Spill the blood
Centrifugal mixture
Become one
You are someone
Yet no one

Conspiracy of one
Conspiracy of one
Conspiracy of one
Conspiracy of one

With the virus all cells are as one