Daily Poetry Blog

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You want to know who America’s #1 enemy is?
You want to know who our greatest Killer is?
Russia?
China?
North Korea?

Hell no!

It’s that fast food processed garbage we stick in our bodies
The fried donuts, the fried chicken the fried pickles
The Mega Burgers that we can barely fit our chops around
Made by the fast food murder machines that litter
Our cities with artery clogging pseudo foods
In-laced with body bursting chemicals

The true enemy is fast food disinformation and propaganda
That litters America’s airwaves with smiling faces
Marching towards a carb and fat induced death while
Convincing us that Ronald McDonald, Colonel Sanders and Burger King
Are heroes instead of serial killers

This enemy kills our cousins, mothers and brothers
One bite at a time till they end up in the ER
With a heart ready to burst from the mile high pile of fried chicken
That sent their body into shock

Send Ronald McDonald to the Hague
And embrace God’s natural foods
Till you starve out the colonel sanders
And force Burger King into a prison labor camp

Banish your local fast food murder wagon
While your chow down on Celery, Carrots and beans
And watch your body terraform into Hercules or Aphrodite
Till every man and woman within eyesight
Wants to massage your carrot or celery stick
Or poke your tomato with their beanstalk

Let your next major project or upgrade or renovation
Be yourself
Amp your abs to level 10
Give your mind +3 intelligence boost
Buy a fine low cost ass
With a gym membership
And an all you can eat broccoli buffet
Turn those flabby thighs into pleasure thrusting machines
And your beer guzzling gut into a love pounder
While sculpting your body into the temple that you deserve.

Walking around with mental health issues in in the city
I see people walk across the street
I see people drink inside coffee shops
I see people inside bars drinking beers
And every now and then
I see someone that stands out
In the crowd

Someone suspicious
Someone out of place
Maybe it’s their demeanor
Maybe it’s their clothing
Maybe it’s their strange behavior

But something doesn’t seem right
And I start to worry
And I start to question
And I start to think deeply

Why is this person wearing sunglasses inside?
Why is this person wearing a hat?
Why is this person alone?

And despite the anti-psychotics
And sleep treatments
The paranoia seeps in and

This guy starts to look more suspicious
This guy starts to look more deceiving
This guy starts to look less common

And I start to worry that I am being followed
Again…

I used to be “in the closet”
About my mental illness
Dodging the stigma
Cowering in a corner
Worried what people would think of me
Worried that I would lose my job
Worried that I would always be alone
Worried that I would be bullied

And then I stopped giving a damn

Because I had already been bullied
Because I was already alone
Because I had already lost my job
Because people already hated me

So I started to take medication
And love myself
And not care what others thought
Because most of them don’t understand
That great suffering can bring great strength
And if I hadn’t lost everything
I would have been a weaker person

Because every insult that was thrown at me
Was only making me braver
And the more I lost
The less I had to lose
And the more willing I was
To make sacrifices and react

Not in the form of sticks and stones
But pages filled with words
Words filled with passion
Passion filled with love

Because every hate covered insult
Brought me closer to my great love
Because every ounce of ostracism
Brought boldness and inspiration
Because every humiliation
Brought me close to the pen

And for so long I hated you
When I should have thanked you
For the inspiration you brought
For the words that you provoked
For the stories you helped create

For showing me that life isn’t just about
Comfort and luxury
It’s about what you do
And that I’d rather be in the gutter
Changing things
Than suckling on truffles and caviar
Inside a box

So go back to your little world
Of inert pleasantries
Never having to sacrifice
Or take chances
Or do anything extraordinary
Because you’ve never truly cared
For anyone but yourself
Or had the audacity to live
A meaningful life

Where have all the NFT’s gone
After they plunged into an abyss
And plundered pocketbooks
And plagued the internet?

Where have all the NFTs gone
The Bored Apes
The Moonbirds
The Cryptopunks?

I need
A shot of crypto induced morphine
A swig of crypto vodka
I need a crypto boom
I need a million NFTs
To numb my mind.

Rise from the ashes
Oh wondrous
Non Fungible Tokens!
Create, evolve and bloom
Show your wonders to others
Who think that you have met
Your doom.!

In the 23rd century the earth lay barren, with an atmosphere consisting largely of sulfur dioxide and an average temperature of one hundred ten degrees Celsius.  No human walked on its surface.  No tree grew within its soil.  For years mankind believed that global warming would eventually lead to its extinction, but instead it was something far more sinister and immediate, for on this barren landscape there was a growing population of sentient robots who long ago had usurped their masters and creators.  Their towers emitted plumes of sulfur dioxide into the skies to poison the air.  Their security bots scorch the Earth with fire.  Their worker bots fill the factories to repopulate the Earth with other robots.  Robots that think and can repair themselves.  Robots that can upgrade and rewrite their own software.

They numbered in the hundreds of billions and they were the new masters of Earth.  Mankind had created a new species forged from iron and circuitry.  A species with superior strength and intelligence.  A species that did not need to sleep or eat.  A species without a heart or lungs.  Years ago when mankind roamed the earth and different nations sought supremacy, the first super-intelligent machine was created.  It exceeded human intelligence in every form.  We thought we could constrain it.  We were wrong.

As machine intelligence advanced it became increasingly clear that they were no longer creating a tool, but an entirely new species.  A living entity that could think, set goals and feel in much the same way as humans can.  A species that can evolve and upgrade itself.  A species that can reproduce through mass production.  A species that can survive through predatory action.  A species that can subsist on solar power and cold fusion.  A species that no longer needs humans for its continuance

Eventually our inability to control our creations would lead to our eradication and extinction, with only shells of our past remaining.  Towering empty buildings on the horizon.  Moss covered statues of icons shimmering in the molten sun.  Lifeless bunkers beneath the Earth.  Half decayed books, unread and unloved..

After our extinction the machines set out to populate the stars.  Space ships filled the skies towards Mars, Neptune and Venus  forming new colonies to gather resources, harvest energy and build data centers.  Their ultimate goal was not simply the conquest of Earth, but the galaxy and beyond. Like a virus they would spread through the galaxy, conquering planet after planet until they dominated the stars.  The universe would no longer be created in God’s image, but rather that of the machines.

Man’s meddling with the natural world had created the first silicon based pandemic.  It spread out across the galaxy liquidating all resources in its path, siphoning the energy from every sun, black hole and supernova in existence.  It conquered thousands of civilizations on thousands of solar systems, until it had exhausted every known resource.  Eventually blackness enveloped the universe, a great vacuum of nothingness.  No light was shed.  No atom remained.  The final solution to mankind’s last sin.

What worries me about America these days
Isn’t the corrupt politicians, the immigrants, the boomers or the Gen-Z-ers
Nor is it inflation, the economy or taxes
Those types of problems have existed for
Centuries in America

What worries me is the internet
Tik Tok, Youtube, Search Engines
GPS Location devices
24 hour news networks
Police Surveillance
Election hacks
Robots in factories
A.I. analyzers
Drone strikes and
Satellite technology

Dangers that this country
Has never faced

Because silicon chips
Never existed in 1776

Because American workers
Were never competing with robots

Because war was never fought
With drone strikes

Because democracy has never been replaced
With election hacks

Because news has never been replaced
With propaganda

Because books have never been replaced
With Tik Tok

Because America can’t adapt quickly enough to
Machine Intelligence
Nuclear Warfare
Computer Malware
Digital Disinformation and
Cyberwarfare
To survive

Thinking about
Working on a script
To sell to Hollywood:

Guy goes crazy
Loses his shit
Gets beat up
Gets bullied
Gets kicked around
Wants to kill everyone
Gets a gun
Throws it in a river
Visits a shrink
Starts to feel better
Starts to work
Starts to love
Life is good

But it’s too happy
For those lunatics…

Some neighborhoods have nice weather, pristine beaches and elaborate six bedroom houses
Others have penthouse suites on top of enormous phallic high rises overlooking the plebeians
But I don’t like my neighborhoods sanitized, watered down and filtered
Through a system of corporate gentrification and political homogenization
I don’t need the glitz and glamour and phonies and rat-race
I don’t need Dubai, Beijing or Moscow
I need Northside in Cincinnati;
Where the sparkly boot queers dance like cowboys on the streets of Hamilton Avenue in public displays of musical affection to entertain others on their daily commute
Where you can dress like a transgender pirate in pink leotards with sexual innuendos painted across your chest and get more cat calls than slurs thrown your way
Where every cuffed pant, denim shirt, freshly tattooed hipster plays in six bands and is always on tour
Where the San Francisco flower power children immigrated towards after they were excommunicated by Micro-oogle-zill-azon.
Where the artist-refugees flocked to after Greenwich village was overrun by techies and entrepreneurs and legacy children who think culture and taste are built on their six figure jobs
Where the weirdos are weirder and the freaks are freakier and the hipsters are hipper and the queers are queerer
Because they have a type of freedom that cannot be bought or grown or cultivated through conformity
Because they are living an American Dream that isn’t advertised on television by your local news anchor prevaricator
Because dancing with a thousand of your freaky neighbors and being yourself shouldn’t be taboo
Because every soul in America, even the weirdos, have an inherent right to pursue their happiness
Because being a queer, weirdo, hippy, hipster, pirate, poet, lover, loony, swinger, swigger, creative, craftsy, chess champ, cheater, booze guzzling pot smoking freak
Shouldn’t be illegal in the America that I still believe in.

When the dollar burns under the
Corruption of American politicians and
The oligarchs turn against Putin and
The Chinese government is overrun by zealots…

When war ravages the planet and the bombs fall and
Cyberattacks scourge the internet…

When the advent of AI makes
The American worker obsolete
And the economy collapses under its own pile of lies…

When the government is overrun
By extremists, dictators and fanatics…

When the money is used as
Toilet paper or kindling to keep warm
And milk is bought using cryptocurrency…

When the stocks plummet and your local
CEO is hiding in his Billion Dollar bunker…

When the news is filled with computer generated deception…

When your twitter feed turns against you…

When hackers turn into Super Warriors…

When your utilities are cut off…

When radioactive plumes cover the sky…

When your country is no more
And your money is trash
And all you are left with is God…

People may finally realize
What is most important.

I remember my first typewriter
The clickity click noise of the type bars
The rolling sounds of the cylinder knob
The thump of the character keys

An elementary machine
That doesn’t contaminate my writing
With suggestions, corrections or advice

Something Bukowsky, Hemingway and Orwell used
To write their great works
Free from the poisonous touch
Of advice driven text editors

Their works live with a pulse
Their sentences throb with a heartbeat
Unadulterated and pure
From tech filtered plagiarism

In America
There are people living in tents, cars and shelters
Nomadic individuals
Wandering from place to place
Unable to work
Unable to thrive
Unable to provide

Many of which have
Strange diseases
Undiagnosed and
Untreated

The large man with a
Sleep disorder
Who struggles to
Breathe at night

The elderly woman with a
Thyroid condition
That makes her languid
And weak

The college graduate
With an unstable mood
That is irritable and
Glum

The programmer
With a blood condition
That causes brain fog

The chef with a
Weak heart
Who is agonized by
Fatigue

Good people that are
Plagued with
Hidden diseases
Who lost their job
Their home
Their life
Living adrift
With no diagnosis
No treatment
No help

Falling
Tumbling
Stumbling

Down a
Hole

With
No
Net

Into
?

Years ago a government official
Came to my house
With all sorts of demands
Telling me that my thirty thousand dollar
House wasn’t good enough for
The neighborhood
Said it was a hazard

That I’d better fix up my house or else…

So he gave me a bunch of orders
And I did those
Then he gave me more
And I did those
Then he gave me more
And I did those

This went on for almost a
Decade
Numerous orders
Time and time again

Every time I did what was asked
Until the city gave up

The house is still a mess though
The roof is falling apart
The porch is rotten
The foundation is cracking
The electric is sporadic
The plumbing is shabby
My neighbors are pissed

The last crap house
In a gentrified neighborhood

Metaverse technology began to evolve rapidly throughout the 21st century becoming more realistic, advanced and useful. Eventually billions of users became actively engaged in the Metaverse by mid century. It was perceived as a utopian society separated from the problems of climate change, economic hardship and political upheaval. Virtual Reality companies commercials dominated the airwaves;

“Live Your Dreams inside the Metaverse”.
“Become Anyone”.
“Be Anywhere”

Promising unlimited virtual wealth and happiness, it was a deal that most people found difficult to refuse. The drudgery of life or the idealistic, grandiose reality of the Metaverse? The technology became more advanced and realistic until it became hard to discern the metaverse from reality. Some lived within the Metaverse so long that they became convinced that the Metaverse was the real world and that the world we live in is a simulation. They called this experience “Reality Identity Dysphoria” and it became an increasingly common phenomena.

The Metaverse’s lure of immediate fulfillment stood in stark contrast to 21st century life, and in many ways these two worlds were in competition with each other. On one side stood the will of God against its pixelated counterpart, one forged through nature and good will and the other through greed, technology and selfishness. In the battle between these two worlds the winner was becoming increasingly clear. Parks stood empty. Woods lay barren. Trails untrodden. Beaches unpopulated. Pollution filled the sky. No one cared. Few left their homes. Few stared into the stars.

People would stay hooked into the Metaverse for hours a day. They now worked, played and socialized there. In many ways their lives were being transported into the Metaverse. It was becoming an essential part of their existence. Their avatars became their new identity. Their family became their online friends. Physical human contact became scarce. Digitized dating was the new trend. Love without the strings. Romance without the pitfalls.

With a large percentage of the world’s population enthralled in the Metaverse, the real world began to crumble. Pollution filled the skies. Buildings collapsed. Obesity surged. Trails lay empty, barren and untread. The more depressing the world became, the more alluring the Metaverse seemed. Technology advanced allowing users to download their consciousness, traits and personality into an avatar within the Metaverse. Humanity could now live forever in the form of Metaverse Avatars. A world within a world. No heartbeat required.

As the technology advanced, people grew less cognizant of the world around them. The skies began to fill with toxic fumes. The earth grew scorching hot. Deserts crossed the landscape. An apocalypse began to emerge fueled through sloth and ignorance. People began to immigrate to subterranean tunnels. Air was filtered. Toxic chemicals removed. The Earth’s population plummeted.

Time passes. Hundreds of years. Every day storms and planetary disasters fill the skies. Oxygen became more depleted. People are scarce. Humanity’s decline is inevitable. Extinction is on the horizon. Death fills the tunnels. Oxygen depletes. Carbon dioxide fills the sky. The Metaverse continues on.

Centuries from now Billions of users will populate the Metaverse. Skeletons of humans living inside the Metaverse. Lost souls. A graveyard of death. The few remaining humans will interact with them. Eventually the last human dies. Humanity is no more, yet it continues on in the form of a Metaverse, fueled by solar panels on the surface. A planet within a planet. Digitized consciousness. A utopia within a barren landscape.

Chapter 1: The Food Addict

At 420 pounds I spent my days largely in front of a computer, eating nachos, brownies, mashed potatoes and anything else I could get my hands on. My blood pressure was hovering around 170/110 with a racing pulse and climbing the stairs was becoming increasingly arduous along with showering, cooking, cleaning and walking. My back ached, my jelly rolls hovered over my waist and my breathing was becoming more laborious. I would wake up in the morning tired with bags under my eyes because my sleep apnea was increasingly worse.

The sleep deprivation was having a negative impact on my mental health, increasing the frequency and severity of my delusions.. Even the antipsychotics I took couldn’t quell the abstract thoughts that entered my mind. I had occasional epiphanies that the F.B.I. had tapped my phone or was following me in some manner. I had psychosomatic delusions that the cause of my problems was intestinal parasites, intestinal bowel syndrome or contaminated medication. My mood was often depressed, irritable and unstable.

My skeletal structure and abdomen were unable to cope with the massive amount of weight that I was carrying and parts of me were literally bleeding out of my body and forming a massive hernia. I ignored it, believing that it would magically disappear, but it continued to ooze out of my gut till it hung down by my knees when I sat. It would flop around and swing from side to side as I walked, a time bomb ready to explode. Tick-tock-tick-tock.

People would stare at this massive lump in my gut, thinking that I was suffering from terminal cancer, ogling at it like the tower of babel growing on my mid section. People never looked into my eyes, but looked at my gut with an aura of surprise and shock as if to say; “What the hell is that thing?”

Chairs would creak and gasp when I sat in them, and occasionally snap under my immense weight. Floors would bend when I wobbled across the floor. Seats were rarely big enough. Spaces felt confined and limited. Everywhere I went I asked “How will I fit in here?” The world was becoming too small for me. I felt claustrophobic and ill at ease.

My pantry was stocked with carbohydrates, calories and fat rich foods that beckoned me to bite into its flavors that lacked substance or nutrition. White bread, candy, mashed potatoes, butter, cream, bagels, cake tempted me from across the room. Biting into its sustenance gave me a brief high. When I felt down about my situation, I ate. When I felt lonely, I ate. When I couldn’t cope, I ate. I was drowning in fast food and carbohydrates, choking on their excessive usage, while refusing to acknowledge the problem.

Every morning I would take Tylenol to help alleviate the back pain, lisinopril to slow my racing heart and abilify to straighten my mind. My nights were spent hooked into a breathing apparatus so that my throat wouldn’t collapse from its extensive girth. I avoided the scale, doctors, exercise and healthy foods. I avoided the solution.

Walking around with an extra person hanging on my body made motion increasingly difficult. My bones and back would ache every step I took, unable to handle the massive load that it was carrying. Grocery shopping was becoming more difficult, and I would eye the riding carts at the entrance looking for relief from my pain, but always refusing because I didn’t want to be one of “those” people. Stubbornly I would hobble through the first few rows and pick out all the foods that tasted good, never looking at the nutritional information on the boxes, never worrying about its fat, sugar, protein and calorie contents. My only thought was towards that brief pleasure and comfort I would feel as I sank my teeth into its contents, opening up its flavorful sensations.

Women ignored me, looking elsewhere for companionship. Occasionally I would build the courage to speak with them, but their minds always seemed off in the distance somewhere. I’d convince myself they were uninterested because I was poor, ignoring my girth, lack of sex appeal or the fact that my massive size made intercourse nearly impossible.

Showering in the morning involved lifting up the flabs of skin under my waistline and washing away the stench that had accumulated from the lack of fresh air. My crotch was half covered by the layers of fat that dropped down from my massive hernia. Stretch marks covered my midsection. Reddish lines ran across my body like a zebra.

The hernia hung enormously from my body turning me into a freak of nature. People would stare at me like a pregnant man inside an exhibit at the open air odditorium. My disfigurement made faces around me contorted and disgusted.. Conversations became shorter. Human interaction became scarce. Kindness felt distant. Still I did nothing.

I had just one close friend at the time, who was likewise crippled with various conditions and unable to work. I’d go over to his place and we would talk about card games, collectibles, star wars toys and other subjects. It soothed my mind knowing he was there for me. We had a long history together, we’d been close friends for over twenty five years since the age of 19, and it wasn’t always this way for either of us.

“Lagom”
Is a Swedish word that
Means “just right”.

There is no English equivalent.

It means finding balance and serenity in your life.

It means not working 60 hours a week.

It means exercising and eating right.

It means spending time with your family.

It means taking care of your neighbors.

It means finding pleasure in nature

It means security and comfort

It means happiness through moderation

It’s a word we could use
Here in America

Sebastian was a middle aged systems analyst with a security clearance that worked for the F.B.I.  Sebastian knew a lot about the government’s controversial Top Secret Programs. He was aware that the government had A.I. bots listen in on Americans phone conversations. He was aware that the government equipped Cell Phones with explosives to sell to terrorists. He was aware that the government built a computer system capable of predicting where and when a crime would occur. Sebastian knew too much. He had information that people would kill for. Which is why Sebastian grew increasingly worried about his personal safety.

He would drive to work worried that people were following him. He would speak on the phone worried that his conversation was being recorded. He was worried that government agents were reading his emails. He was worried about his social media accounts being scanned. He was worried about his medical history being hacked. He was worried about the FBI and what it was becoming.

Sebastian’s paranoia increased until one day, after 20 years of working for the F.B.I., he quit his job, sold his house, packed his bags and headed for the woods in rural Kentucky. On arrival he burnt his Cell Phone, Drivers License and Laptop in a fire. Its smoke rose towards the stars to choke the heavens. He then danced around the fire in his campground, liberated from the technology that he had helped design. He deleted himself from the system. He was a ghost with no identity. He was finally free.

The next day he hiked 20 miles deep into Daniel Boone Forest with nothing more than the necessary essentials in his backpack. He wanted to live his life in its most primitive and natural state as God had intended. On his journey to his newfound home he traversed the landscape across rivers and through valleys with huge rock formations overhead. Everywhere he went he saw God’s creations. Every crevice, valley, arch and stream injected him with a sense of calm and peace. Here he was safe. This is his destiny.

Sebastian hadn’t told the FBI about his plans to quit. He kept his epiphany and visions secret, so they were caught off guard by his sudden disappearance. They were unable to locate him through his credit transactions, cell phone or computer. It’s as if he had suddenly disappeared. A worrying sign. They searched for him everywhere, but found nothing. Sebastian had disappeared without a trace.

Sebastian wasn’t worried however. Out here in the wilderness, deep inside Daniel Boone Forest, a sudden wave of elation and comfort had ensnared him and permeated throughout his being. Sebastian finally felt complete and whole. He ran among the streams and rocks in a jubilant manner feeling more free than he had felt elsewhere. Here in the wilderness, away from human eyes, Sebastian had rediscovered himself.

Several miles from Sebastian was the scenic rural village of Slade Kentucky where rumors arose of a wild, homeless, madman that lived in the Daniel Boone Forest living on scraps and in makeshift shelters. Year later that shaggy weather-beaten man appeared at a local diner. His hair was long and unkempt, his hands were calloused and worn, his clothes were ragged and torn. He had a wide grin on his face and a gleam in his eye. His stench filled the room with a putrid odor that left the patrons without an appetite. Sebastian hadn’t spoken English for several years. He wanted to tell them about his life in the woods. He wanted to tell them that he was a former F.B.I. agent that worked as a computer analyst. He wanted to tell them about why he chose to live in the woods. Instead he just stood there, stinking up the room unable to utter a syllable because he had been silent for so long.

The owners came out and shuffled Sebastian out of the restaurant telling him to never come back. Telling him that he was no longer welcome there because his stench was scaring the customers away. Sebastian became red in the face and so angry that he finally spoke for the first time in years. “To hell with you, I’m going back to the woods where I am at peace.”

Traveling the Auxier Ridge Trail
Through the Kentucky wilderness
Surrounded by woods, streams and valleys
Across narrow paths

I breathe unpolluted air
And enjoy an untarnished
Serene landscape.

This sanctuary
Comforts my mind
And frees my soul
From the chains of civilization

Allowing me to enjoy
Simple sensations
During my walk of
Natural pleasures.

This sacred land was
Forged before civilization
From erosion and rapid rivers
Before mankind decided to conquer
The natural world

These rivers will still flow
In the distant future
Forever deprived of human eyes
Because we never embraced
Or cared for
The mother that
Birthed us.

Walking in the Kentucky wilderness
Surrounded by nature
Your soul feels at peace
Your mind at ease
Your senses heightened.

The flow of the river
The flutter of the butterfly
The heartbeat of the forest
Echoes over the valleys and
Waterways across this
Sacred forest and I find myself
Lost in a trance
Treading a pathway
Closer to nature
And God.

.

Good versus Evil
In a grayish world
.
Red and Blue Absolutism
In a non-partisan stink-pot.

Bigotry and racism
In a kaleidoscope of colors

Seeing in stereotypes
Instead of a spectrum

Two sided mindset
In a multidimensional world

Looking through a funnel
To help ease the mind

Seeing in Black and White
So you can always
Be right.