Just Like My Father

The candle burns at both ends with only enough wax to last for so long
all the soldiers are weary,dug in tightly knowing no rest
frightened
the war has only one outcome and it has already been seen
no crystal balls or tarot cards
only the commanding officers who came before falling without mercy or a quiet Ave Maria
the casualties are everywhere laying down arms no longer able to fight
they say cowards die a thousand deaths
a poet dies every minute
the private suffers a slower death on a daily basis
8-12 hours with life trenched in the fox hole
bullet wound in the gut continuing the fight
taking your own life is unacceptable
just keep doing it for the company and the pennies on their dollar
die for their cause to fill your belly and starve your soul
your life is not yours to take
it’s theirs

New World Order of Guilt

When you spend time going without certain things for so long that when they arrive they are wrapped in a well tied guilt bow
Little things
Lunch
Coffee
A compliment
Basic things for some people
For me I feel as if I’m not worth the time to have time
The bite to eat and the wink is above me
A peasants daily routine doesn’t include such things
I’m criminal and should
Forget them

Monday is always Monday

Days of this nature drain the soul out of living things with every ugly downward fucking
stare it’s just the normal state of the Monday zombie complex
but then again most days are Monday on repeat,that broken mp3 player that will only Three Dog Night’s One is the Loneliest Number…it is a miserable working world after all
At the end of it even though oceans are huge
streets are ready to explode with dissent among us infidels
I am content with getting her to smile
Romantics kill fascists only a daily basis
they just take too long to figure it out

Voices blur through the day where the windows get dirtier,where the reflection staring back
meets the reality of the viewing party
the face is not mine or who it should be
it is the withered onlooker of the daily routine
nose to the grindstone,hammer in the pie
staring
waiting and hoping
listening to the hum of the great buzzing social engine
this working dinosaur’s remains wont’ be worth a barrle of piss in todays market
the longer grind,the less it’s worth
bring on a meteor
make us worth something as we slowly toil and decay
for the better running engines

Danny Vermin

There’s more thought crime in my coffee than clouds or thoughts
I will have to be as horrible as the other rats in this sewer to last the day
either you get to know the other vermin down here or get the bends trying to get back to the surface wherever that is these days
it’s not bottom feeding in the middle grounds when the bigger rats are always above

Not As They Say in My City

Admitting defeat
looking away
paying no attention to the man behind the curtain
rats jumping ship
letting the sleeping dog lie
not rocking the boat anymore
you can’t fight city hall
letting the baloon go
watching the parade go by
hearing the fat lady sing

so many poetic ways of saying to give up
not enough ways to encourage the right fight

Tuesday

Hands almost too swollen to write through an ached eye day of my own standards of heartbreak
paper cuts,sledge hammers are the same as you keep hitting the same point correctly
water will eventually wear down a rock dripping onto the precise spot
not next week or month just over enough time
everything or something will break through the hardest of surfaces
gingerly
barbaric
it’s all just depends on the right lighting

Nothing to do with it

There was always a war,the count on my internal defense clock it is up around World War 177
skirmishes of the daily front line turn to long drawn out battle lines against every sort of enemy
seiges on all sides of the ramparts and city walls
no rockets red glare
nothing to gallantly scream
the every day routine becomes etched as common duty replacing the dust filled shelves with what was young brave happiness
only leaving the question
what exactly started all of this?
rebel simply forgetting the cause

To Whom It May Concern 345

To Whom It May Concern,
Or to the self important blue toothed prick i normally would not take notice of whilst getting coffee but being the New Yorker i am i could hear his obnoxious conversation which i can ignore too until the words “Low Life Union Shitkicker” hit my ear… the light bulb went off in my head not to put my boots through his breakfast sandwich and into his jaw but i was shocked that the psi-op campaign against people was actually working…
The media,lawmakers,banks and everyone under the corporate sun seems to be campaigning like Joe McCarthy pointing the big blame finger on the so called working class middle of the road income people it seems the war on immigrants did not work so we shall place the downfall of the economy and society on them,its the unions fault big business is failing,its struggling peoples fault because they were thrown to the curb and can not pay their bills or eat for that matter..they love the term middle class as if it were a new strain of virus
There is no middle class,there never was.. there was always just the working person who was told that was their status so they worked harder not to be classified as the lower working poor
Its’ all their fault says Faux News so the cities and country can not stand or carry them anymore…
heavyweight multinational companies are bankrupt but they still receive their obscene King Solomon bonuses
our country is on the verge of wars on almost three fronts to secure oil so company cars
can carry millionares to their sinking ship workplaces but its’ all the little union guys fault
when he cant’ buy the new skynet app runner…but guess what they are right
it is the poor families fault for not having enough children to put on the assembly line or on the frontline
financially struggling heathens have ruined everything big business has given to society
its’ all our fault
I will personally take the blame for the decline of the strip mall convienance wasteland we call freedom
throw it right on my back with the guilt of being born with a rusty spoon in my mouth and no desire to recite Gordon Gecko mantras about greed or he who has the most toys wins
I will carry the 16 tons and what do i get?
Pssst come closer and turn off your headset..this is what we all will get
When it all comes crashing down and there is no one to deliver the bail outs,who is going to protect your BMW and huge lovely home with the gawdy lions outside i do not mean from the repo men..
I speak of me or even better groups of me who will do what we do everyday,we go out,earn our pay and survive working for bastards who have forgotten where they gained their wealth ,not from 9 given numbers but from the sweat of other people’s brows so when these numbers decide to add up
and put in a good days work
it just may be kicking in your front door
to play with all your lovely toys
an underdog will eventually find somewhere to bite
enjoy your microwaved egg sandwich

Yours cordially and forever an uneducated idealistic heathen,
Liam

P.S See you soon, toodles

It’s All Fun and Games

Again
running out of words im going to have to gash an artery to convey the description
after giving almost more than blood for answers
whats a messy vein opening to carry the carotid message home
after mopping up all the adjectives and paying for the dry cleaning bill
someone might get the point