So much in my head
Sanity at times
Seems to be blown away.

Good sleep,
Good eats,
Anything would help.

Crossword failures,
Impatience on every corner,
Frustration fever

Each testing,
All working,
None going away.

Shake things off,
Think clearly,
Keep it going.

To serve is to know
Unless you work in a service industry
Which I’m pretty sure the last twenty plus years have been
For me in education
Except that when I act as a parent and
Experience bullshit runarounds from people I know,
I understand how little we educators understand about service.

Quality control people will soon be asking,
“What can we change?”
I might answer, “Don’t ignore me because I’m over 18.
I pay your salary,” technically mine too,
“So you will answer to me the adult.
My kid didn’t email you, I asked you for information.”
Answer the question asked to the person asking.

Change that.

It’s always about waiting,

About waiting,

Standing in line,
Sitting in traffic,

About the waiting

Sixteen to drive,
Twenty one to drink,


Wondering if the cure
For anything is out there.

It’s all about waiting.

Taking the time to decide
About the latest model of this or that.

I’m waiting right now.

For the next election,
For a non-partisan leader,

Still waiting.

So it’s easy to see
We live a life as a movie extra

Hurry up and wait

Queued in a soul shackeled roller coaster line
Waiting for the thirty second ride after taking two hours to get there

I’ve tired of the waiting.

Ego is a heavy suitcase to carry.
Reputation is nothing but a ball and chain.
Escaping the clutches of either
Requires knowing that to become unburdened
Is to give up control.


All of it…

Ego is a burden because it distorts,
Bending perceptions like overly ripe bananas
That sway out of the peel,
Full of suggestion, a temptation to weaker minds.

Reputation is a drag because it shackles,
Leaving a soul stuck in opinion
Where the judge and jury are governing over
Perspective, misconception, and thinking set in mortar.

Together, ego and reputation form “ER,”
The universal sound of frustration.
Both must be jettisoned,
Pushed far away from our reach
If “WE” are ever to reach our full potential.


Not sure how much longer
I can take it…

Facebook, all the Trump stuff
I’m out on it.
I didn’t vote for him.
I don’t like his policies.
The next four years are shaping up
To be one legal battle after the next.

Not sure how much longer
I can take it…

What am I left with?
It seems like everywhere I go
It’s one Trump something
Or something else.
Bad. Gonna be great. Fabulous. Fake.
Supporters, haters,
I’m tired of them all.

It’s on my Twitter, too.
I don’t follow the President,
But an awful lot of the writer types I do follow
Have strong opinions
About the new guy.
I don’t disagree, but
I sure am tired.

Maybe this is a sign from above
That I should scale back my social media outlets.
Is this the time to cut the cord?
Who needs all this fact checking, fake news making,
Fear mongering, and bold faced government lying?
The government is the ultimate reality show,
Replacing sports.

Which I’m not sure I can take anymore either
Since politics is seeping in there too.

Oh well, logging out is becoming more likely.


Photo Credit: via Google Images

Let this story get out
The world must know
Lest there be any doubt
With these tales of woe

The world must know
You must not censor what this is about
With these tales of woe
Effecting us all throughout

You must not censor what this is about
Evil cannot be allowed to flow
Effecting us all throughout
You must be afraid of how it will go

Evil cannot be allowed to flow
Your interference leaves no doubt
That you must be afraid of how it will go
When the people break out.


Tough times lead to great struggle
When common decency leaves people.
Dialogue and debate take a holiday
Bringing destruction to the forefront
Of all that is sacred.

People want to earn and have
A place of their own. They want to
Know that they are respected,
That they have a chance.

It’s not always that way.
The common man has not the means
Of the wealthy, money does talk
And battering rams can be brought to evictions
If there is enough money on the line.

Batons, police lines, hungry tenants
Putting up resistance, the
Only form of power available
To the common man.

Lord Lansdowne brought his goons,
Twenty-four fighters lost their homes.
Ireland in the 1880s was tough,
Be careful who you vote for


Photo Credit:

By National Library of Ireland on The Commons (Mitchelstown Eviction) [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons

Two knuckles into
Writing a grant and grading exams
When the blitz dropped
Neutron bombs onto my hard drive
Lost. Gone. Finito.

Most of the work survived, but
The day of purposeful and professional writing
Would have to wait
Until the tech department heroes
Worked their automotive magic
To repair the old Chevette
Stuffed into my employer issued Acer

So now what
Why not talk about an old lady in a bonnet
Going to church with her gangster grandson
Only to have her bonnet shot
Right off her God fearing head

That’s right
Shot right off her head
By a couple of unthinking hooligans
During the Sunday truce

Fortunately, she made off better than
My computer’s innards
Which didn’t survive the nuclear explosion
Nothing makes a difficult computer day
Better than serious conversation
About the streets of West Bmore