A New View

I take a breath and make a wish
That this world will continue to exist.
That we will learn from our mistakes.
That we will give more than we take.

As a new year begins again
I say goodbye to the year that ends.
Which almost broke the world’s back.
As unemployment and foreclosures grew.

As the lies from corporations ballooned.
As everyone was bailed out, except you.
As the largest oil spill spewed
A hundred years of poison into our oceans.

As the car bombs continued exploding.
Caskets draped in flags returning.
As Facebook became our new reality.
As leaked data became a new army

That gave our governments a new view.
I take a deep breath and make a wish with you.
As the human machine is steered
Towards our collective future.

In the Shadow of the Tower

A ball of white light blasts outward.
A man pulls his body upwards.
All his energy exhausted.
His singularity invested.
There are people that don’t understand
The investment that has been given.
There is a city, a world, a universe
That has been growing version by version.
Like sleeve tattoos recycled among its own
Shaped re-invented and re-drawn.
Patterns carbon copied, re-modeled and re-printed
Among users and programs and creators.
Fully integrated systems full blown and breathing
Life into death, right below your fingertips.
One nanometer between you and another dimension.
What dimension do you exist, you should ask yourself?
One carbon. One bit and one biting. All data.
Conduits to a new soul. A new battle.
Libraries of cultures forgotten and eliminated.
All barbaric. All using slaves to build coliseums.
Huge towers of light reaching for the perfect sunrise.
There are children who have grown up on this dream.
Grown interests, careers, and families.
Worked entire lives not knowing their mission.
All programmed to obey and seek their omission.
Spawning blank copies of themselves.
We work hard. We party harder. We are alive.
Every few thousand years, birthing a new consciousness.

tis the season

tis the season to get in one’s car.
meet all one’s friends at the local bar.
get drunk off one’s ass.
try not to drive very far.

tis the season to bite one’s lip.
sitting with family as you hear a short quip.
to think of all the baggage we carry.
that weight we need to finally bury.

we think that coming together once a year
eating a feast, opening presents, drinking beers
will make all those bad memories disappear.
but these meetings often compound our fears.

we often feel alone in our families.
we often wonder how we could be related.
what role did genetics play.
where did our environment go astray.

if you decide to drive drunk this holiday season.
think twice, give up your keys and use reason.
give people a second chance, no matter how hard it may be.
tis the season to embrace life and be free.

Spoken and Forgiven

As the words find you
Remember where you were.
What conversations you had
Sharing the title of the books of past.

When you repeat your prayers
Remember the power of the layers
Of time pressed and passed.
From one’s lips to another mind
Where words have grown the divine.

As the words find you
Pen to paper you write
The reflections of your world.
How you and it did change.
How you continued to engage.

Trying to inspire yourself and others
To seek wisdom and light.
Trying to fight the noble fight
Through the power of words.

Coded and translated.
Transcribed and relayed.
Spoken and forgiven.
Choking and spitting.
Memorized and forgotten.
All history written
Through the power of words.

Don’t ask don’t tell can go to hell.

Don’t ask don’t tell can go to hell.
For making people lie to each other.
For not allowing us all to feel like brothers
No matter what sexual orientation.
As we fought for human rights and liberation.

For all the money spent on its misconception.
For making others feel less than equal.
As if, what they are is despicable.
As straight men and women spoke
Openly in Barracks about who they did poke.

Bragging about sex with whores while on leave.
Preaching that family values were only for Adam and Eve.
While not allowing mothers to find daycare for their babies.
While forcing back to back tours tearing apart families.
While wasting millions enforcing its insanity.

For telling us the military did not need this change now.
While continuing to kick out thousands somehow.
For taking a survey and not listening to it as well.
For telling us that everything was just swell.
Don’t ask don’t tell can go to hell.

And let it burn for an eternity.
For its forced inequality.
For its accepted prejudice.
For the lies it made us sell.
For the truth we did not tell.

Without A Sound

The grid went down without a sound.

Everyone knew it was coming.
The cyberwar had been churning
as Americans continued to shop.

Stuffing their stockings.
Making their lists and checking them twice.
Trying to act as if they were naughty or nice.

When Amazon went down, it was well known.
No more online shopping could be done.
This is when men took up their guns.

A virus snuck in through chimneys.
Slicing the internet cable with glee.
As we sang Christmas carols on key.

This virus then infected the citizenry
Electricity was cut, no lights on the Christmas tree.
No heat inside homes, people did freeze.

Man had no idea how to create fire alone.
No more Google to hunt and gather from.
No more gas in cars to travel.

No more food in pantries, we groveled.
A chapter ended and a new one began
All with the stroke of a key.

Some code written for you and me.
Civilization given a hard reboot.
The human operation system upgraded.

Many thought it was anarchy.
Many thought it was liberty.
A chance to live unconnected and free.

It was savage and millions died.
But many lived and grew stronger as we tried
To do things better this time around.

Rewriting history without a sound.

The Land of the Free

So you want to talk about revolution.

A possible solution.
Wherever you are.
Twitter, Facebook, in cafes and bars.
Wearing a mask as you close down sites.
Amassing together as you start global fights.
The dirty laundry of politicians have now been shown.
They are human and smell badly just like your own.
They stay too long when not welcome.
They make promises and never keep them.
They want cheap goods just like you and me.
They’d prefer everything to just be free.
If you shop at Wal-Mart you can’t point a finger.
Because you support their policies and slave labor.

So you want to talk about the constitution

With your pocket-sized edition.
You speak about liberty and justice for all.
As you so easily support assignation calls.
Because America is the leading democracy.
No punk with a web site can show our unjust policies.
You shut down a website but just make it grow.
Whatever happened to freedom of information so
Other countries can look to us as an example.
As the concept of turning the other cheek is trampled.
One country under God we so often say.
If God is over us he has gone astray.
For he did not want to hear or see
What has become of the land of the free.

He Will Drink Hemlock

the war will be silent.
global citizen dissidents
against information being suppressed.
no more silencing the innocent.
data will flow freely online.
this is our voice and time.
our technology a tool
to enable me and you
to stand up for human rights.
to topple corporation’s might.
an example has been made
for others to replicate.
a blueprint for crowdsourcing.
an army of hackers coursing.
fighting police states breeding fear and hate
that imprison those who communicate.
a prison cell for Assange to leak
the truth that Socrates did seek.

Burn this motherfucker down and howl like a deranged dingo

They are upright but should walk on all fours.
They dress in their painted on jeans and t-shirts torn.
Fed through vegan veggie wraps, wearing their tattooed sleeveless straps.
Some are tan and few are clean.

Most unshaven and all should be unseen.
To not come out in public and maybe that is what they mean.
I didn’t shower or eat today mom, but look at me now.
My artwork is at Art Basel and I’m selling my clown.

Selling technique or lack there of.
Selling my fashion while carrying a club.
I am the tip top of the evolutionary chain.
The cultural leaders of the empire machine.

Evolving so far up, that we must fall down.
In passing I’ll shoot you a quick snarky frown.
How dare you bring kids to an art show downtown.
This work is serious and says so very much.

But is so vague that its needs are such.
The context of the context of our context to my context.
Used to bury any meaning so deeply inside.
That only a small handful would dare subscribe.

There are ghostly faces painted and glued on smudged bodies.
There are drawings of poodles and little girls in lipstick armies.
A sculpture of a ten foot Asian man dropping trough.
Photographs of warehouses full of beautiful nude vultures.

The faces on canvas and the faces walking round,
all seem to echo the same empty sound.
As if struck with a hammer, a bell ringing loud.
This is the end of our empire and this is the art we sell.

There is no meaning here but the excess and apathy that abounds.
No search for truth for truth left town.
Truth went looking for meaning where none was found.
So as an old friend said on my social network just now.

Let’s burn this motherfucker down and howl like deranged dingos.
Cardboard cutouts painted, worn as masks as we play bingo.
No need to correct the ship as it steers off its course.
Madness and destruction has always been its source.

Let’s howl like animals and burn this motherfucker down.
Watch the flames engulf this broken system that we propped up ourselves.
For there is not one innocent person in capitalism now.
Throw a hot dog on a stick and cook it good and crisp as we howl.

The whole thing will go up in no time, so let’s enjoy it now.