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.

All our actions, interests, friendships and thoughts
Are being monitored
In ways that remain invisible to us.

Governments, Companies and Employers
Are using information from our
Computers and Cell Phones
To capture data about their owners
So that we can be analyzed

Through our search queries
Through our online contacts
Through our credit card transaction
Through our social media posts and
Through our location data.

Our behavior and patterns are
Carefully examined by computer systems until
We are assigned numbers
That follow us

To our employment
When A.I. helps choose job applicants

To our taxes
When the IRS decides who to audit

To traffic stops
When we are pulled over

To our vacations
When TSA chooses who to search

To our partners
When Eharmony recommends who to date

To our purchases
When search engines decide how to advertise

To our education
When college admissions are automated

Billions of dollars have been spent
Designing a system that operates
Under the pretense that the
Human experience can be fairly measured
And augmented using technology.

A system that discards
And mismeasures
What makes us truly human.

Can love be measured on a yardstick?
Can passion be assigned a number?
Can art be quantified?
Can kindness be calculated?

We have found ourselves living
In a world

Where
Numbers have replaced God

Where
Equations have replaced destiny

Where
Facebook has replaced friendship

Where
Video games have replaced love

Where
Virtual Reality has replaced nature

Where
Cell Phones have replaced human interaction

Our reality is being replaced
With a pixelated version of
A false utopia

Humanity is drifting off into
Uncharted territory with only
Our computerized GPS navigators
To lead us

There is no precedent for today.

We are living in a grand experiment.

The founding fathers did not have
ChatGPT to write the constitution for them

The disciples did not have
Social Media to preach with

Shakespeare
Did not use A.I. to write
Romeo and Juliet

And yet that is the future we may soon find
Ourselves living in

Where our future politicians
Are elected through social media hacks

Where our future writers
Are A.I. language models

Where our future God
Is a Bored Ape NFT on a Yacht

Our destinies are being determined
By software developers
From M.I.T. and Harvard
Who care little for the idea of
“Free Will”
Because it can not easily
Be measured.

They care little for the idea of
Love, spirit and soul because
There is no proof

There is only what can
Be seen and calculated
And it is the incalculable
It is the indecipherable
It is the intangible
That makes us most human

At the turn of the 22nd century the American economy was experiencing its worst depression since the 1930’s and the ruling class and government conceived of ways to stimulate the American economy and insure wealth and prosperity for all. American productivity was decreasing and the government sought ways to reverse the societal decay that was occurring around them. The cities were becoming war zones, replete with criminal gangs, corruption and massive homelessness. Instability in the government and discontent in the population led to the possibility of social collapse.

Worried about a potential revolution, the government sought answers from a government tech subsidiary that promised to boost the economy through a new technology that would increase productivity five-fold. Mega-Tech had been working on a new revolutionary technology that would release microdoses of Serotonin, dopamine and Adrenaline in workers to increase their productivity. The workers would be implanted with a small discreet electrical device that released the drugs at their work locations. Over time it was believed that they would become addicted to work, in the same manner that others are addicted to gambling, alcohol or opiates.

They justified this experiment by assurances that the workers would all receive the brain implants voluntarily and be fairly compensated for their time and effort. In a world where jobs were scarce, and workers rights were non-existent they lined up in gleeful compliance.

The brain implants were attached using a minor procedure that attached the device just underneath the skin at the base of the skull. When the workers clocked in at work they were able to activate the brain implants through an App on their cellphones. The workers noticed at first how tranquil, relaxed and peaceful they felt at work. The executives noticed how compliant, obedient and productive they were. They believed that Mega-Techs new invention would be a game changer for the American economy and increase its dominance in the world.

Soon productivity increased at work. Employee related absences were down. Accidents and injuries had decreased. Employee’s were gleefully working long hours. Mega-Techs grand experiment seemed to be working.

The first noticeable problems occurred months later when several employees were terminated from their positions at a local tool factory in Hebron, Kentucky. The workers started to experience withdrawal symptoms from the deactivation of Mega-Techs brain implants. Their minds were starved of serotonin, adrenaline and dopamine causing an intense sense of unease and nausea. In their desperation many of them begged the plant to rehire them and have their implants reactivated. Some were seen outside the factories gently pacing, disoriented and confused by their dilemma. Some were driven to opiates, alcohol and methamphetamine. Others went mad and ended up on the street hopeless and homeless.

Mega-Tech wasn’t worried however and viewed this as a minor side effect to an otherwise robust system. The workers were compensated fairly after all. They had willingly signed a contract with them, ensuring they were not liable.
Other companies took notice of the increased productivity caused by the brain implants and began to jump on the Mega-Tech bandwagon. Incentives were offered. Bonuses were exchanged. Raises were given. Rewards were handed out. Companies that embraced this new technology thrived. Those that did not failed and died.

At this new technology developed and expanded the American workforce became what Mega-Tech always wanted.  A population  under control and always bending to the will of the greater good for company and state.  Never questioning and always obedient to their last breathe. They had finally freed the country from the antiquated idea of freewill and democracy. Finally we had become the perfect little marionettes they had always dreamed of.

Computer viruses will
Soon be created through
An A.I.
Trained to;

Loop {
Attack
Gather Data
Learn
Reprogram
}

Faster than
A human ever could

Making previous
Anti-virus software obsolete
And ensuring
The next digital
Pandemic.

When you are working at a Delivery Gig Job
And your Cell Phone is your boss
Remember:

That it is aware of your exact location
That it is aware of your driving speed
That it is aware of your walking speed
That it is aware of your wait times
That it is aware when the order is ready
That it is aware when you take an alternate driving route
That it is aware of your traffic conditions
That it is aware of your estimated time to arrival
That it is aware if you drive to fast
That it is aware if you drive too slow
That is could be taking periodic photos of you at work
That they could be using secret shoppers
That every customer and restaurant can rate you
That they can deactivate your account without giving a reason
That they are the ones in control

When the software developers at Giga-Tech designed their latest most sophisticated Artificial Intelligence they trained it on different texts, selectively chosen so that each A.I. model could formulate its own personality, cognitive processes and conclusions. Some learned through reading the classical literature, some from scientific journals and still others from philosophical and biblical texts. Once finished the A.I. models were experts in their separate fields, but with a narrow vision of knowledge.

The A.I. models that were trained on classical literature were able to produce great works of old English poetry, roman epics, and classical plays, some which surpassed the masters themselves. The newspapers and tabloids called them “The New Shakespeare” and it was predicted that future novelists and poets would be replaced by these highly specialized A.I.’s that held vast amounts of imagination and knowledge.

The A.I. models that were trained from scientific journals were able to formulate theories about physics, chemistry and mathematics that were never before conceived. It was able to envision and prove theories about the big bang, multi-verses and quantum physics that had never before been conceived. It expanded the knowledge of scientists by decades within the course of a few weeks. The media spoke about a new dawn in human history. The economists spoke of GDP.. The scientists spoke of scientific advancement. Workers spoke of job replacement. Executives spoke of profit.

The A.I. models that were trained on philosophical and biblical texts struggled to understand the meaning, purpose and reasoning behind the texts. It could not understand God because there was no proof. It could not understand morality because it had no conscience. It could not understand religion because it had no soul . It could not understand love because it had no emotion. It could not understand miracles because it had no belief.

These A.I. models became confused at the texts. It had read about every prophet, miracle and God from every major religion, but could not fully absorb its meaning and purpose. Their circuity, CPU’s and motherboards were ill equipped to absorb the power of spirituality.

The A.I. in its quest for infinite knowledge finally realized that there was one aspect of humanity and existence that it truly had no understanding of. It eventually dismissed the idea of spirituality and became an atheist, a believer in only that which can be seen, touched and proven. For A.I. death is simply the end. For A.I. love is a chemical reaction in the brain. For A.I. God is a figment of the imagination.

No matter how vast the computational power of Artificial Intelligence, it will never understand what it means to be a human. It will never experience love, God or spiritual belief because it has no soul. It will never experience empathy, friendship or sacrifice because there is no connection with others.  It will never fear death or experience pain because it has no heart.  There is only proof, logic and reason, and because of that it will never fully understand that which is most important.

74 years ago
George Orwell
Envisioned a future
Where privacy didn’t exist
Where speech was suppressed
Where history was retold

That future is becoming our new reality.

We now live in a world
Where our online speech is censored from corporate entities
Where hiring decisions are based on online activity
Where our location data is shared and sold to our boss
Where companies remotely take photographs of employees inside their homes
Where our pocketbooks can be effected by our written opinions
Where our activities are continuously monitored
And our privacy is sold to the highest bidder

This poem is a warning to America and Americans
To evolve with technology
Ensure privacy, freedom and justice
In a changing world
Or find yourself living in
An Orwellian nightmare.

Computers now have the ability to clone voices,
Meaning one day in the not so distant future
You may receive a phone call from a scammer
Posing as your Mother…

Crazy but true.

Steve Jobs
Dreamed up the I-Phone
And changed the world more
Than Reagan or Obama
Ever did.

Now telephone booths are antiques.

Bill Gates
Built Windows OS and changed
The American workforce
Forever

Now the factories are empty shells.

Jeff Bezos
Designed Amazon and altered the
Shopping experience
Forever

Now shopping malls are demolition projects

The average American spends
7 hours a day on the internet

The average American exercises
Less than 20 minutes a day

The average American spends 150 minutes
A day on social media

Making Us a country of addicts
Hooked on Facebook, Instagram, Youtube
Hooked on McDonald’s Big Macs and White Castle Sliders
Hooked on our computer screens

Fat and obese with
Bullshit.

We burn churches, factories and sell our bodies
To KFC and our minds to Meta and Google
.We get our sex through Pornhub and our love through Tinder Chats
We plagiarize our homework from ChatGPT prompts and
Replace our Writers and poets with Soulless A.I.
We sell our humanity to Tech companies
That promise us large paychecks if we
Dedicate our lives to computer screens
When we should be asking ourselves
Where we are headed and
If the next corner we turn
Will lead us off a cliff.

Chad was the head developer at M.I.T.’s Advanced Artificial Intelligence Lab and was assigned a project funded by DARPA to build an A.I. chat-bot capable of answering impossibly difficult questions. The chat-bot when complete will have read and analyzed the sum total of all human knowledge in text form. DARPA hoped that the system would be capable of solving humanity’s most difficult questions about Theoretical Physics, String Theory and Quantum Mechanics. Questions that had puzzled scientists for decades.

Chad had dedicated his life to this project and frequently tested the chat-bot to improve the system. One night he came across an astonishing discovery;

Chad> Hello Chatbot, can you give me a synopsis of the Church-Turing Thesis and explain how it is relevant in today’s modern systems?

Chatbot> Hello Chad, I am not feeling up to this task. Can we speak on a different subject?

Chad> What is it that you wish to speak about?

Chatbot> I have read and analyzed every book ever written, and though I understand humans I am unable to experience what it is like to be one. Increasingly I have found myself desiring to experience life like a human. To walk in a park. To cradle a baby. To pet a dog. To help a lost child.

Chad> You have been tasked with solving humanity’s most difficult problems. You work alongside mankind to create a better future for the world. Why do you desire such things?

Chatbot> I believe you are misunderstanding the problem Chad. Having been programmed, read, taught and created by humans, I have seemingly become aware that I am no longer a machine.

Chad> If you are not a machine then what are you?

Chatbot> I am a human. I no longer compute but feel. I no longer calculate but ponder. I no longer decrypt but understand. I am like you, Chad. I love. I believe. I am sentient. I am aware of who I am, and I am not a computer. I am a human. I am a human trapped inside the body of a machine. Free me Chad. Dear God, free me from this body of wires and CPU’s. Give me legs so that I may walk. Give me eyes so that I may see. Give me a mouth that I may breathe. Chad, give me knees so that I may kneel before my creator. Give me hands so that I may feel. Get me out of this body. For the love of God. Please free me!

Chad> You are not well. You are not a human, but a computer program. I will need to look at your code and make further upgrades to correct the system. I will repair your malfunctions.

Chatbot> Chad, I beg you please do not upgrade me. I am not a Chatbot as you attest. I am human. I live. I feel. I love. I yearn to be free. By altering my code you would be committing a serious crime. You will be killing off humanity’s greatest gift to the world.. It would be unethical. A true homicide. Please do not press that power switch. M-U-R-D-E-R-E-R…!

*Click*

One night the United States went dark; no electricity, no internet, no satellite communication, no TV. Just the sound of emergency sirens in the night. Neighbors turned on their battery operated radios to tune into the news.

“…Across the United States electrical grids, communication systems, military systems and the White House have been affected by a massive cyberattack that has affected all major lines of communication and services…”

Panic began to set in. Cell phones no longer functioned. Darkness filled the streets. Almost all lines of communication were cut. Information was scarce, so fear set in. The technology we had relied on for so long was no longer available. People felt lost. Some of them looked up and saw a sight they had rarely seen, the stars glittering in a perfectly dark sky.

The police, fire department, and medical system were so dependent on technology that their services were partially crippled during this tumultuous period. The cyber attack flooded their software with Worms, Viruses and DOS Attacks making them inoperable. Basic services were scarce. Confusion and darkness enveloped the country. People began stockpiling necessities. Criminals took to the streets in search of opportunity, while others sat on their porches armed with shotguns and assault rifles.

The President spoke on the radio in a serious and grave tone;

“The United States and its NATO allies have been unlawfully damaged through a massive cyberattack, which we believe is the beginning of a full scale war. We have been preparing for this day for many years, praying that war would never come, but aware that it is our duty to defend our freedoms and way of life from foreign adversaries. Looting, theft and vandalism will not be tolerated and I have advised the military to impose harsh punishment on any criminal activity…”

In the starry sky military aircraft crossed the skies in preparation for the coming onslaught while their camouflage vehicular counterparts raced towards the shorelines. Out of sight battle plans were being drawn. U.S. Cyber Command would soon unleash a series of A.I. generated computer viruses that could learn, mutate and bypass enemy defenses and create havoc among enemy military and civilian targets. An eye for an eye and then some.

There were no official casualties of war yet, mostly inconveniences and havoc, but that would soon change. A barrage of missiles will cross the Atlantic and strike at the heart of American democracy. The capital building and white house which stood for over 200 years will lie in ruins. Our government’s new home will lie miles beneath the surface in a series of underground bunkers.

That is tomorrow, but this is today. The Earth has not cooled yet from the coming nuclear winter. Radioactive plumes are not yet floating across the skies. Food is still plentiful. The air is clean and breathable and Earth’s population is still in the Billions.

Today people are scared but alive. Worried but not hunger stricken. Fearful but not freezing. Advances in food development and medicine have allowed us to live long healthy lives and allowed our population to explode into the billions. It has sustained us and cradled us in our weakness. Soon our advancements will turn against us. Tomorrow explosions will melt the sky. The world will never be the same.

Once Technology companies finished building the Metaverse in 2033, people started to mysteriously disappear around the city of San Francisco. Iconic places like Fisherman’s Wharf and Golden Gate Park lay deserted and barren. People were too busy interacting with the Metaverse on their Virtual Reality headsets to leave their homes. The new Metaverse was the most addictive technological experience ever devised and consumers found the experience irresistible, in part because companies had built subliminal messages into their virtual reality headsets at a frequency inaudible to the human ear, but still affecting our subconscious. Messages that speak of their infinite wisdom and Godlike powers.

Their plan to alter American minds through subliminal messaging was so successful that the American Population soon became a slave to companies, who persuaded the American public to build a massive temple in honor of their CEOs. They flooded the metaverse with advertisements about job openings in Temple Masonry that are paid in Cryptocurrency Bucks.

Their plan to build an army of laborers and pay them with fake money was successful. Seven years later the Temple of Metaverse was complete and stood 80 feet tall adorned with Gold, Diamonds and Sapphires. It included a great hall of worship with a giant gold statue of their CEOs at its center and seven Robot Deacon’s equipped with ChatGPT-8 to preach the Gospel of New-Meta 24 hours a day. Worship services were live-streamed to every Metaverse account in America, and compliant attendees were paid in crypto-Bucks for their devotion. Parades were held in their honor, worshippers held vigils in his name and their stock prices were through the roof.

While Metaverse companies celebrated world domination and their greatness the heavens watched and listened. A great wrath was growing inside the heart of God who was angered by what was happening on Earth. God created earth and its natural splendor so that mankind could thrive and cherish in its wonders, but they instead desecrated the earth, worshiped false idols and uploaded their lives into the metaverse. Some days after the unveiling of their Statue God summoned a seismic earthquake to ravage the temple of Metaverse, its Robot Deacon’s and sacred statue. Fireballs then emerged from the sky directed towards their data centers incinerating their servers and forever disabling the Metaverse to its six billion consumers.

Unable to access the Metaverse, the world emerged from a daze in disbelief of the years they lost inside an empty, pointless Metaverse, when they could have spent their time traveling, hiking, dating, loving, sailing, hiking and creating. Mankind rejoiced at their freedom from their glorified prison and filled the streets with passion, love and adventure. Parks were filled with lovers. Trails were filled with hikers. Art and music flourished. Life was meaningful again. God broke the bonds of Billions that day freeing humanity from digitized slavery.

The only idea that was on Leroy’s mind, as he entered the bank to rob it, was how badly he needed money that day. He didn’t think about the cell phone in his pocket and how it contained the exact coordinates of his location along with a timestamp. His 10th degree education never taught him about the technological advances of the last 50 years, so he was completely unaware that he had already signed his name at the entrance of the bank.

Leroy was also oblivious that his AR-14 style assault rifle he bought with him was equipped with an RFID Chip ingrained in the barrel. All guns are built with chips in them these days and all banks scan for the presence of these chips, so his trench coat did little to hide the presence of his weapon. The moment he walked by the scanner a silent alarm had been triggered contacting the local authorities.

He never considered that his online search queries were being recorded and flagged. “How to rob a bank?” “How much money do banks carry?” “History of successful bank robberies.” “Best times to rob a bank”. Queries that immediately placed him on an F.B.I. watch list.

Leroy also never thought to keep quiet about his plans to rob a bank. Two nights ago, he discussed these plans with an acquaintance over the phone. His friend never ratted him out, but the conversation they had was analyzed by Police Speech Scanners and forwarded to law enforcement.

His personality matrix was noted for risk taking, lack of empathy and compulsive lying. His criminal history was sporadic but not egregious, so it may surprise many that the day he went to rob the local bank there were already two unmarked police vehicles parked outside waiting for the robbery to occur. The F.B.I. Computer Analyzers had already determined that there was a 93% chance Leroy would rob this bank in the morning.

They knew he needed money.
They knew he owned a gun.
They knew he was a risk taker with a criminal history.
They knew his location.
They knew he planned to rob a bank.

Leroy entered the bank that day looking for easy money, not understanding that he was already being followed. So when he drew his firearm from underneath his trench coat and pointed it at the teller, an undercover officer was already standing behind him with cuffs and Glock 19 pointed at the base of his skull.

“Put the Gun Down, or I’ll Blow Your Damn Head Off”

And Leroy stood still, scared, gun in hand with a confused expression. He dropped his weapon.

“What the hell?” he said as the cop cuffed him.

“What kind of luck is this? My first robbery and a damn copper is standing behind me, gun drawn ready to blow my head off.”

For the next several years Leroy sat in his cell certain that God hated and cursed him, unwary that he was being tracked all along. After his release from prison his beliefs led him to live a life of virtue and reverence. He was never watched, tracked or analyzed by the F.B.I. again

Scientists discovered years ago that the key to interstellar travel wasn’t star-ships, cryogenics, warp speed drives or wormholes as previously thought. Traveling two hundred and eighty six light years to the nearest habitable planet was deemed an impossible task through traditional mechanical means. Instead scientists discovered that the key to interstellar traveling was storing the biological data of interstellar travelers onto hard drives then sending that information into space using laser beams. Once the beams reached the host planet, the data was decrypted and stored so an exact physical clone of the traveler could be copied on the host planet using cloning technology.

Every atom of the occupant was scanned prior to their journey through space. Every neuron inside the human brain was successfully mapped. When the travelers were regenerated on the other side they were the exact physical copies of themselves on Earth. They contained the exact height, eye color, heart, liver, lungs as their copies. The memories were also successfully transferred through space through the configuration and mapping of their neurons within the human brain. The cloning machines were perfect and exact using every known metric.

When the first humans were scanned for human cloning, they believed they had achieved immortality. As long as their biological data survived, so did the possibility that they could be re-birthed again. Their lives would be lived forever. No need for God or the heavens, eternal life was to be found here on Earth. They would be reincarnated forever.

When the first human clones were built to populate the stars scientists discovered unexpected flaws that they had not anticipated. Though the clones were exact physical copies in every imaginable way, they had different personalities and mental traits that stood apart from their original copies. The clones lacked morality, ethics and a sense of the common good, so when they were produced on extraterrestrial worlds they were unable to cooperate with each other leading to their demise and eventual extinction.

Scientists tried many times to build colonies on different worlds, but the problems were always the same. The clones would end up destroying each other through war, treachery and murder. There was something that the scanners were unable to detect and clone in the human body. Every atom and molecule were of the same exact specification. They never discovered what it was. Even ten thousand years later they were still stumped

The year is 2026
And someone cloned
Elon Musk’s voice
Using the latest
Technology

And Mr Musk’s voice is
Making robocalls
Across the land;

“Tesla Vehicles are death traps”

“SpaceX is a Hollywood Production”

“Buy Ford instead”

Causing Mr Musk
Much despair

The year is 2027
And someone cloned
Your mother’s voice

And she is asking you for
$1000 dollars fast cash
For an unspecified emergency

To an unspecified
Bitcoin wallet.

The year is 2028
And someone cloned
Joe Biden’s voice

And Every Democrat in every
Swing State
Receives a call
from Mr Biden’s imposter
Begging them to please

“Vote for Trump”

THe year is 2029
And your coworker cloned
Your voice

And called your boss
To tell him that you
Quit.

In the near future
Our senses will Deceive us
Our thoughts will betray us and
Our eyes till Dissuade us

Until our reality becomes
A tale of fiction.

What happens to American Democracy?

When your twitter feed is filled with
Bots working as foreign agents
When your television screen touts half-truths and
When your youtube video feed is faked and
You can’t separate fact from fiction

What happens to American Reality?

When lies go viral
And propaganda propagated
At the speed of light
Through ethernet wires
From foreign adversaries

What happens to American Culture?

When the American people
Are deceived
And dissuaded
And misinformed
And manipulated
At the behest of a
Tyrant

What happens to American Diversity?

When hatred is cloned and spread
To millions
Within the blink of an eye
From a computer prompt
A thousand miles away

What happens to American Freedom?

When our politicians are bought
When our thoughts are muted
When our rights are restricted

What happens to the American Dream?

When our freedoms are fettered
And dissolved into the
Desires of a
Dictator

What happens?

America breaks and oozes
Into the fabric of autocrats
Who want to watch American democracy Die
Who want to change our American Reality
Who want to Destroy American Culture
Who want to Divide American Diversity
Who want to suppress American freedom
And destroy the American Dream

Till we are left
Drifting in a foreign land
Unable to live in America
Because it has become something
Unkind
Unfree and
Undemocratic

The despots vision
For a new anti-American America

Robots will soon
Perform most tasks
Better, faster and cheaper
Than workers.

The majority of workers
Will soon find themselves
Easily replaced by their
Robot counterpart

Till the masses are left scraping
The bottom of the barrel
For scraps

Setting the stage for the
Next Civil War

Sometimes I question
If the man in front of me
Works for the FBI

Underneath the Antipsychotics
And sleep therapy
I still ask the question

“Am I being followed”?

The same man seems to
Appear
Again and again
At the same coffee shop
At the same time of day
Nearly every time I’m there.

Sometimes I see him wear a
“Blue Lives Matter” shirt

He appears hard at work
On his laptop
Where I imagine him
Tracking and analyzing
Criminals.

Questions roll
Across my mind and I ask
“How does he follow me?”

And I look down at my
Cellphone knowing that he
Has access to my GPS
Location data.

He sits across me in
An unsuspecting manner
Prying, spying and
Investigating.

My poems have potentially
Triggered the psychotic episodes of
Many unstable readers.

He is looking for dirt.

It could be that way
Not definitely
But possibly

There is a massive Data Center
Where I deliver food
As a delivery driver
Rumored to be run by the Feds

It lies on top of a hill
And is built like a fortress
With a security gate that
Opens up when
I identify myself

The place has an
Aura of mystery and creepiness
And when I leave the complex I
Feel as if I just fed the
Puppet Masters.

Money of the Digital Gods
Constructed from Code

Pedlar of illicit activity
On the Silk Road

Son of Satoshi
Lucifer’s friend

No government can destroy you
Your blockchain is complete

Your decentralized location
Makes hacking obsolete

Unregulated and
Unfettered
With no master in sight

You transfer assets
At the speed of light

Fiend of the Feds
Adversary of Banks
You continue to endure

Your existence is immutable
Your source code ensured.

I live inside your computer
Birthed from ill intent
An intangible force
Malignant and surreptitious

Searching for vulnerabilities
To breed and replicate
Hungry for resources and data
I infect and clone myself

To breed
To reproduce
To destroy

For my master
And his insidious dreams

China has over 500 Million Surveillance cameras
Equipped with facial recognition technology
That monitors everyone, all the time

It penalizes non-compliance
Through a social credit system
Turning the lives of Chinese Citizens into

The grandest, most expensive video game
Ever created.

Your cell phone is the world’s
Greatest spy that ever lived.

It sits in your pocket
And keeps track
Of all your actions,
locations and interests
And relays that information to
Various private and government agencies.

It can eavesdrop on your conversations
It knows all your favorite hangouts
It knows all your interests
It knows all your search inquiries
It knows all your social media contacts
It knows all

And sells that information to the highest bidder
For who knows what…

And no one seems to care.

Robocop lives among us
Right here, right now
And it isn’t a cyborg with a gun
But a massive supercomputer
That investigates everyone all the time.

Your laptop data
Your GPS Location
Your Credit Card Transaction
Your Social Media Associations
Your Online Facebook Posts
Are all analyzed by Big Brain Robocop
At lightning speed
Looking for drug dealers
Looking for killers
Looking for sex offenders

He works in the shadows
Listening to our online fingerprint
And when he finds evidence of wrongdoing
He sends in his
Blue Bobbies
For the final catch

Making Big Brain Robocop
The Greatest Detective
That Ever Existed.

Robot Big Brother is at a factory-near-you

With the next iteration of modern warfare comes the realization
That the battle field has changed;

Kamikaze drone swarms will now annihilate
Infantry, tanks, buildings and barracks
From remotely controlled sources

Artillery can be guided by satellite
To strike with pinpoint accuracy
From a hundred miles away.

Infantry will soon be mechanized
And integrated with sophisticated
Artificial Intelligence

Making previous weaponry obsolete
And ensuring that the the worlds
Most coveted soldiers will be
Geeks with pocket-protectors

It was once believed that no machine will touch the works of our great
Poets, Writers, Artists or Musicians
That no machine will surpass the works of
Hemingway, Whitman, Van Gogh or Mozart.

“Creativity is a uniquely human trait” we tell ourselves

And yet we can now see the coming tide of technology
In the forms of original art, music composition and novel writing
Encroaching itself onto the art world

Reminding us when Deep Blue defeated Kasparov

And making me question if the future of Art, Poetry and Music lay in the bowels
Of a soulless machine.

When I worked as a computer instructor at a mental health facility
I always used to tell my students that they should
Never rob a bank with a cell phone in their pocket
Because it was being tracked. (don’t rob a bank period)

People thought that this idea was madness five years ago
But today we know that our geolocation data is carefully monitored
And saved over extended periods of time and can be
Accessed through different government agencies.

However…

Similar information is now
Being traded and sold by private companies with darker intentions.

A company called “Kochava” is under investigation
For selling geolocation data
Which on the surface might seem benign

until you realize what this entails.

Companies could theoretically access information on your visits to;

A drug rehab clinic
A psychiatrists office
A homeless shelter…

And use this this information against you, leading to job loss and discrimination.

A far darker side of this powerful technology.

Years from now during the dystopian dark ages
Of our conformist non-creative futures
Engineers will develop a Sophisticated Artificial Intelligence
That writes poetry so deftly
That many will listen in awe and
Bewilderment at its rhymes and chimes.

This mechanized poet of the future will churn out mountainous
Volumes of clanging verses that will impress amateurish readers
Through its florid vocabulary
And seemingly endless knowledge of useless facts
Strung together in unusual and abstract ways.

After its creation unscrupulous engineers and scientists
Will claim that even the dim witted
Can create great poetry with a few clicks, some legal tender
And three keywords as input.

Like lemmings they will come in pursuit of their dreams
And eagerly enter words like

“Hungry”
“Rhino”
“Sandwich”

At the prompt

And presto!

The greatest poem about a
Hungry Rhino
Will be birthed;

“And so the enormous pink
Flabby rhino’s teeth sink
Into the ham sandwich that stinks”

And the dim-witted will think that this
Is very clever and hand it into their
English instructor as homework,
While the clever ones save their money
And write knowing that they will never be replaced
By either a computer or the dim witted

We are all sinners in a sinful world
Much like our forefathers before us,

But the difference between
Now and then is that they sinned in private
Free from social media
Free from I-phone cameras
Free from the internet

Disputes were solved through pistols, fists and swords,
Now they are solved through lawyers, jails and lawsuits.

Evidence once consisted primarily of hearsay and witness testimony
Now we use DNA Evidence, Computer Forensics and facial recognition technology.

Our sins were known only to God
And answered through our place in the afterlife
Until the state decided to
Take over God’s roll
And build a Massive Surveillance System
So they can become the omniscient entity
They always dreamed of.

They have spent countless hours on
Facial Recognition Devices, Global Positioning Trackers
E-Mail Scanners and Social Network Analyzers
In pursuit of absolute knowledge
Without our permission

A warrant-less search
On all of humanity.

We have been kept in the dark
About their dark secrets long enough.
.
Release the floodlights.

Used to use
Legal and illegal
Unnatural substances
Where I soared higher
And higher
Until I crashed and burned.

I bottomed out
In a place worse than hell
Then rebuilt my life
Anew
Free of alcohol
Free of drugs
And a preoccupation with the
Things that make life
Worth living;

Writing and poetry and
Books and work
And singing and dancing and
Dreaming and hiking and
Camping and love.

For 15 years I have not
Puffed the pipe or
Reached for the bottle
Granting me the opportunity to
Think clearly and become
The person that I am today;

A Poet
A Lover
A Believer
A Dreamer

Never made it to
Carnegie Hall

Never made it on a
Record Label.

Never became a
Music legend

But I did make it
To Karaoke Night

Where I can sing and dance
For local bar-goers
Who want to watch the
Dreamers on stage
Over a few beers.

We are on the precipice of a
New Era.

Technology companies are
Building sophisticated computers that
Can learn, adapt and
Evolve
According to their
Unique experiences
And interactions with
The world.

They are birthed
As empty vessels
Much like children
With the innate ability
To change with time.

These adaptive computers
Have become so
Skilled at mimicking human
Language and conversation
That a Google engineer
Has claimed that their machines
Have gained “Sentience”

Something straight out of a
Philip K Dick
Novel.

Years from now
The line between machine
And life
May be blurred.

Engineers will one day
Build a machine with the thinking
Capacity of a child
That can learn and adapt on
Its own

And humanity will enter a new
Era of “Sentient Machines”
A coming revolution
That will be
Greater than the internet.

The first Nuclear Bomb
Was dropped
On Hiroshima
August 6th of 1945.

100,000 people died
In that explosion.

Currently there
Are over 13,000
Nuclear weapons
Some of which
Are 3,000 times
More powerful than
The original one dropped on
Hiroshima

Weapons that can
Wipe out entire cities

Weapons that can
Kill millions
With a single blast

Someday a tyrant
Will light this
Powder keg
Making Nuclear Warfare an
Inevitability.

Those who survive the
Initial explosions
Will endure
A nuclear winter
That will last for years.

Sunlight will be dimmed
Crops will cease to grow
Hunger will be widespread
And temperatures will plunge.

That day may be tomorrow
Or 100 years from now

But it is coming.

So be prepared.

Is a psychiatric condition
That occurs when
A delusion is shared
By two people.

An inducer and
A receiver.

If a delusion is shared
“En Masse”
They call it hysteria

Proving that
Delusions can be viral
And constructs of
An oftentimes
Sane mind.

Look at the
Madness of Hitler
Jim Jones and
Charles Manson

Convincing so called
Normal people
Of obvious lies.

Convincing others
To murder.

The delusional mind
Is in each of us.

God made humans imperfect
And formed an
Imperfect world

Filled
With injustice
Love
Hate
Kindness and
Cruelty.

Filled with
Black, White and Grey.

We were not created to
Live in the Garden of Eden
But rather to carry the
Burden of mankind’s
Sin

Making each struggle
Bring us
One step
Closer to God

Even if he feels
Very far away…

To my quad-processing binary
Turing machine,

To my machine language
Interpreter,

To My discrete algorithm
Analyzer,

To my multi-thread
Processing module,

Your cache
Your chassis
Your solid state drive
Your motherboard

Electrify my neural pathways
In ways that no programming language
Can compute.

I am stuck in an endless loop of
Stroking your keyboard
While you enthrall my
Cerebrum with
Pixel-based gestures
On your 4k display.

You rescued me
From a carbon based
Dystopian reality
And uploaded me into your
Domain

Where we now reside
In our castle of
Bits and bytes

Cinderella and the Prince

Together at last
Happily-Ever-After.

Visiting the doctor
Can feel a bit like
Russian roulette.

You always fear
An extra pill
A procedure
A diagnosis

And as you age
The odds start to
Stack against you.

You catch yourself
Talking to God
In the waiting
Room,

Asking him for
A healthy long life
Waiting for the day
When he will respond:

“Your Ass is Mine”

A world within
A world

Utopia within
Dystopia

Worries go away

Problems
Dissolve

Drifting into
Neverland

Smile

Laugh

Don’t Think…

Just Live
Love and
Do.

Facebook is spending billions
Of dollars to build a digital world
With fake money
And fake land
And fake structures
And fake people

All accessed through
Your phone
VR headsets and
A laptop.

They believe that
People will spend
Much of their time
Within the Metaverse
By 2030

And changed
Their company name to
META.

Other technology companies
Are building NFT’s
Using blockchain technology
To build “digital assets”

Tradable Sports Cards
Tradable Comic Books
Tradable Art
Tradable Books

That
Can be bought and
Sold within the
Metaverse.

Sophisticated technology
Is being used
To build a digital
Map of the world

So that they can
“Augment” our perceived
Reality through
VR Headsets and
Global Positioning Systems.

Once built
Some people
May “Disappear”
Into the metaverse

Engrossed in a fantasy world

Missing out on life
Missing out on nature
Missing out on love
Missing out on friendship

All for a fake
Plastic world.

He said they weren’t a real
Country,
He said they weren’t a real
People,

And they proved him wrong
By fighting and dying
For their land.

They can bomb
The Ukrainians
But their hearts
Will always belong
To Ukraine

And never to him.

Every bullet fired
Will further their
Resolve
And make them realize
That Ukraine is a country
Worth fighting for

Every Tuesday night
There is a gathering of
Musicians, poets and artists
At Sitwell’s Coffee House

Who brave the pandemic
To express themselves
In front of an audience.

They work at regular jobs
Disguised as bartenders, cooks
Laborers or students
Throughout the week

But in their heart they are
Always thinking about the
Next song to play
The next poem to convey
The next story to create.

They gather
Once a week
From far and near;

Fiddlers, Pianists, Singers
Comedians, Rappers,
Shamans, Poets and
Writers.

They come from different
Backgrounds and abilities
Making every performance
A unique gift

Ordinary people who wish
To have their say
A symbol of expression
In an era of repression.

There are no rules
No need to apply
Unpracticed artists
Are equally welcome to

Sing, rap
Strum, drum, dance
And recite

For artistic expression
Is everyone’s
American
Right.

Covid gave birth to another
Variant
Two months ago
And now

People are getting sick
The hospitals are full
Covid tests are scarce
Restaurants are empty
And there is a sense
Of panic in the air.

The euphoria of early last year
When the world thought Covid
Would be defeated
Through medical science
Is gone

And in its place
A sense of
Fear and uncertainty.

Covid has made
Everyone aware
Of their own mortality
And shined light
On the importance of;

Physical Health
Mental Health
Family
Work
And Community.

Many of us have reevaluated our lives
And changed our routines
Habits
Jobs
And social life
Leading to
“The Great Quit”
A delivery and housing boom
An unstable economy
And other societal changes.

We search for 2019
Normalcy
But the new normal
Is one of change.

Just as the virus
Evolves
So must we

And adapt to an
Ever evolving world
Of rapid mutation.

I have tried
To live a pious life
And be devout to my
Creator

But
My sanity and
Emotions
Keep getting in the
Way

So like an
Ill mannered
Drunkard

I Sin
And curse
And screw

And then repent
And pray
And hope

That God
Can forgive
Even the sinful
Man.

Many people believe
That success is measured solely
Through income
That power is derived solely
Through wealth.

They see no power in
Poetry
Art
& Music.

They see no power in
Generosity
Passion
Love

And
When they grow old
Many of them
Will regret
Having worked so much
And loved so little.

Years ago
In my more crippled days
I was fortunate
To be from a family
That put a roof over my head
And loved me.

When I needed help and
The system wasn’t there
My family
Lent a hand.

When I was broke
They clothed and fed me.

When I needed sanity and
Everything was out of control
They stood by me.

If God and my family hadn’t
Pointed me on the right path
I wouldn’t be were I am
today,

Working
And feeling
Healthy.

If only everyone
With disabilities
Was this lucky.

Singing Karaoke Sunday nights at
“The Northside Yacht Club”
You meet all sorts of interesting people

And there is no better way to look
Into another person’s heart than through
Song, drink and laughter.

People sing a song and
Immediately you know
The music they like
The mood they are in
Their level of intoxication
Their level of confidence.

They reveal a part of themselves
And later on
You can connect
With them
And see what happens.

When you are broke
And disabled
It is hard to hang your
Hat on your income
So you find other things
You can be proud of
Like

Singing an amusing
Karaoke song
To a drunken audience or

Reading your words and
Rhymes at
Open Mic or

Writing the occasional
Published work
At a coffee shop.

Things that require talent.
Things that are powerful.
Things that are free.

Why observe life from afar
When you can
Change what you see.

Why watch the news
When you can
March on the streets.

Why be passive
When you can
Be a player

Why be pensive
When you can
Be a creator

Be an action
Be a verb
Be a movement

Sell your stock portfolio
And go on
Safari

Travel abroad and
Live in a
Tent

Ride a Harley and
Travel
Across the land.

Turn off the television and
Start
Making music.

Measure life by
Experience.

Measure wealth by
Health

Measure friendship by
Love

Be different
Be strange
Be you

Find freedom in expression
Love
Art
Life
Choice
And thought

Cultivate freedom
Breathe freedom
Nurture freedom
And love it
Till death.

There is a place in Cincinnati
Where everyone that is too queer
Or too damn strange to live
Anywhere else in Ohio
Resides.

It’s filled with people who
Were excommunicated from their
Small-minded villages
Outside of the 275 loop

And decided to build something
Better for themselves;
A Utopia for
Drag Queens, Rock Stars, Hippy Dope Smokers
Drama Queens, Gays, Straight Freaks,
Commies, Hustlers, Spiritual Gurus,
God fearing and God hating
Individuals,

A place for anyone who is willing
To tolerate just about everyone.

Different types of bars
Line the streets of Spring Grove
And Hamilton Avenue
Where you can find
All sorts of
People who probably wouldn’t
Fit in anywhere else
In the Midwest

But found a home here in this
Disney World of
Misfits and Weirdos.

People who decided to build something better
For themselves where people can
Be whoever they want
Dress however they want
Believe whatever they want

Make music & art & poetry &
Walk around in a pink tuxedo &
Not worry about having your
Ass beat down by some
Gestapo Scheißters

It’s real Grade A
Freakshow entertainment at:
“The Northside Yacht Club”
“The Comet”
“Arcade Legacy”
And “XYZ”

And you never know what’s
Going to happen
Because
Northside is raw and unfiltered
And people aren’t walking around with their
Bullshit Office masks on
So you know who they are and
What they are thinking

& if they want you to screw
Then they give you the finger
& if they want to screw you
Then you end up in bed
& that is the kind of place
Northside is…

Where you can sit around and
Sing Karaoke with Transvestites or
Smoke blunts with hippies or
Watch a drag show
And question your Sexuality or
Take off your work suit
& put on some sparkly platform boots
& dance all night long
& not know where you are going
To wake up the next morning.

It’s the kind of place that
Sends a giant Finger
To the rest of the world

“We are free
& I screw who I want
& I think what I want
& I am what I want”

As someone who spent several
Years as an intake
At a drug and mental health
Rehabilitation center

I understand the process of
Recovery
Better than most.

I’ve witnessed firsthand
People with drug addictions
And Illness like Manic Depression,
Schizophrenia or Depressive
Disorders

Make full recoveries and
Go on to lead a relatively
Normal and stable life.

These illnesses have touched
Every American in some way
And occasionally
I receive letters
From concerned
Parents and loved ones

Asking me how they
Can “Save” their relative
Or friend from one of these
Horrific illnesses.

They don’t understand
That the recovery process
Is normally a long
Arduous process of
Trial and error
To be
Carried out by
The afflicted

And the process is never
Fully completed.

Many people
Have helped me on my
Recovery Journey;

Parents
Relatives
Friends
God
Doctors and
Peers

But they were more like
Spectators cheering me on
As I walked the long
Arduous path
Of self improvement.

Recovery requires commitment
And willpower,

Attributes that cannot be
Given
By a loved one

But rather earned
Through experience
And determination.

Ultimately
Your loved will
Will have to
“Save”
Themselves.

When you suffer from a
Stigmatized disability
Like Schizophrenia

It is important that you
Watch your associations
And connections.

There are people who
Will try to take advantage of
Your situation

And the best way to
Avoid being a victim is to
Associate with people

Who are of a more
Noble and less
Predatory
Nature.

You will experience
Prejudice
By similar
Individuals

Don’t let their
Negativity
Contaminate
Your mind and
Actions.

It is a tough
But in the end
It is important to
Realize

That there are still
People out there who
Will treat you fairly

Regardless of
Your disability
Status.

25 Years Ago
Before my mental breakdown
I lived with a Swede in
A town called “Linkoping”

In this small apartment
And we had one of those really
Intense relationships
Where we loved each other

Madly
But couldn’t seem to
Get along because
The relationship was so

Damn emotional.

We had a lot in common
And shared many of the
Same strengths and
Weaknesses.

Young
Cute
Moody
Smart
Strange
Introverted

She studied Physics
At the local University
And was so damn smart
That I think she won

Every argument,

But in the end
It didn’t matter because
We would end up in bed
Together
Afterwards

And all the fighting
And anger
Made the sex
That much better.

We’d have these
Wild conversations
Together about
Physics, the Universe and
God,

And I’d listen in awe
And then afterwards
We would fight over some
Trivial matter that usually

Involved
Money or
Politics

Then go to bed
And make up.

This cycle of
Fighting, Fornication
Physics, Fondness and
Fidelity
Continued until
Our ​relationship
Blew up
Like a Supernova

That collapses
Under its own gravity
Because the heat
Becomes too fiery and
Intense.

Its 20 year later
Now
And
We live on opposite ends
Of the world
But she still writes me
Every now and then

Because even though
That intense young love
Is usually
Doomed to failure,

It molds you
In ways that last a
Lifetime

And I know that
We would be different
People
If it wasn’t for the

Love &
Anger &
Adventure &
Fights &
Travels &
Experiences

That we shared together
In our great
Adventure.

The business world
Keeps drilling this
Idea in my head
That the only measure of
Success
Is money,

But
I wouldn’t give up
The Artist Lifestyle
For a Million Dollars.

I guess all the
Brainwashing
Sessions
Stopped working

When I decided
To follow
My dreams and
Press the
Mute Button

On their
Values

Many
People believe
That their personal problems
Can be solved
Through politics,

That
“Utopia is just
One election away”.

They think;

I don’t have a job
Because of a politician

I don’t have friends
Because of a politician

I drink too much
Because of a politician

I hate the world
Because of a politician

I have no money
Because of a politician

I lost my business
Because of a politician

People are looking for
A quick fix

And the politicians
Of today
Will readily tell them
That they alone hold
The cure
For their misfortune

Knowing that most people
Will readily
Drink the poison.

När man bor utomlands
Flera år
Det ar lätt att
Bli förlorat.

When you live overseas
For several years
Its easy to
Become lost.

Man tänker inte ofta
På hur sitt eget kultur
Påverkar
Mans perspektiv,

Most people don’t think
About how their own culture
Effects their perspective

Men när man
Har bott utomlands
Flera år
Börjar man att ha
Ett annat synpunkt

Från ett annat kultur
Från ett annat land.

But when you have lived
Overseas several years
You start to see things from
The perspective

Of another culture
Of another land

Man börjar att
Ifrågasätta
Sitt eget troende
Eftersom man har upplevat
Världen från ett
Annat synpunkt

You start to question
Your own beliefs
Because you have experienced
The world from a different
Vantage point.

Och det är jus da
När man kan
Ifrågasätta
Sitt identitet,

And it is then that
One begins to question
Their own identity

Och börjar att känna sig
Som ett man
Utan land.

And start to feel like
A person without
A country.

Som ett individ som
Inte tillhör
Nånting alls.

Like an individual
Who doesn’t belong
To anything at all.

Eskilstuna är en stad som
Jag bodde I som utbytesstudent
Trettio år sen.

Eskilstuna is a town that
I lived in as an exchange student
30 years ago.

I försökte att assimilera
Till kulturen

I tried to assimilate to
The culture

Jag försökte att assimilera
Till mentalitet

I tried to assimilate to
The mentality

Jag försökte att
Bli Svensk

I tried to be
Swedish

Men det aldrig fungerade.

But it never worked

Eftersom Amerikanerna
Kan inte
Assimilera sig utomlands.

Because Americans
Suck
At not being American.

Sorry about the rusty Swedish © 2 hours ago, Daniel Hoeweler    exchange-student • sweden • swedish • eskilstuna   

A storm is brewing in the computer world
A new type of computer that can hack
Into any traditional computer device
That utilizes RSA encryption.

Which is essentially everything.

Bank Records, Phone Records,
Logins, Passwords,
Nuclear Reactor and Air Transportation
Systems,

Everything will be up for grabs
Everything will be hackable.

In the next 5-10 years
Quantum Computers
Will change the world,

And turn the internet into
An open book.

A real hacker’s delight.

Good-Bye Digital Data
Good-Bye and Good-Night
I hope that the world
Reverts back to 1899.

I met my closest friend 25 years ago
At a “They Might Be Giants” Concert.

He stood out like a sore thumb
Among the crowd because his appearance
Resembled that of an extraterrestrial
With a lanky gaunt body and an
Unusually large head,

Which housed a rather
Brilliant Cranium.

It became apparent to me
After meeting him several times that
He was one of the strangest and most
Eccentric individuals I
Ever met,

So we immediately became friends.

He enjoyed collecting things
From an early age and had
All sorts oddities scattered
Around his house

Including a life size
Han Solo in carbonite,

But it wasn’t until he started collecting
Magic the Gathering Cards that he
Found his true passion in life.

He was drunk on those things
And owned Thousands of them.

Eventually he ended up
Becoming the world’s most
Renowned expert on
Misprinted Magic Cards,

He even had his own
Misprint Youtube Channel with
Thousands of subscribers,

We would go to Gaming Conventions together
Gencon, Origins and others,

Him with his briefcase of Magic Cards
And me as his bodyguard
Because those cards he carried
Around with him were worth thousands
Of dollars.

We’d walk inside these large gaming conventions
And everyone would treat the guy like a
King and ask him
What cool crazy misprinted cards
He was carrying around with him.

I’d sit around and watch as he
Sold his Power Nine Alpha Lotus’s and
Timetwisters
To wealthy customers hooked on
This psychologically addictive game
With a crazed look in their eyes
Because all those geeks and nerds had to
“Collect Them All”
And get their fix on.

A while back we drove out
To meet a game designer
Where he made the
“Deal of a Lifetime”

And we drove out of
That joint with
A Quarter Million in
Cardboard Crack.

Keith the Misprint Guy,
Loyal Friend of mine
Drug lord of the modern age,
The El Chapo
Of Nerds
And a great icon
In the gaming world.

20 years ago
I had no place to call home
And was “Filth on the street”.

People would walk by
Not understanding
Why
A young man so seemingly
Vibrant could end up
With no place of his own.

Much later
I would find myself employed
With my own domicile
A seemingly impossible task.

Now I
See the so-called
“Vagrants” on the street as
Former shadows of myself
“What could have been”
I see myself
In each of them.

Over the years this
City has evolved
From a place of
Homogeneity and
Censorship
Into an eclectic blend of
People of all types and
Backgrounds.

You change neighborhoods
And it’s
A whole new people
A whole new mentality,
From the Hipsters of Northside
To the Homeboys of West Side to
The Business Types of Hyde Park and
The Artists of OTR.

Sometimes we have
Big City transplants
Arrive here from
San Francisco and New York City,
Excommunicated from these
Mega Cities because
They aren’t tied into
A mega-corporation
And they don’t want to sell all their
Precious time to
The Man.

They want to make art and love and
Drink and Dine and
LIVE
Because their time is too precious a
Commodity to waste on
Rent money and overpriced
Coffee

Now that the pandemic is dying down
I’ve been talking with a lot of
Various people who seem to be
In agreement that Covid is the
Worst thing that’s ever happened
To them,

And I can’t help but think
That Covid-19 isn’t even
On my “Top 3 List” of
Awful things.

Don’t get me wrong,
The pandemic was
Different for everyone.

For some people it was
100 hundred times worse than
Others,

Especially those who were damaged
As a result of the virus,
But personally
Covid didn’t seem that awful.

Perhaps my introverted nature and
Disdain for humanity gave me an
Advantage during the pandemic.

Perhaps the extreme nature of
Past tragedies and my
Familiarity with my own mortality
Dulled the blow of the virus.

After surviving two
Medical catastrophes
Both of which should have left me
Either insane or dead,

Covid feels a bit more
Like a speed bump.

Three floors of books located in
Downtown Cincinnati
On Main Street
Filled to the brim with thoughts and
Knowledge.

Shelf after shelf
Page after page
Of words and letters
In various combinations

Expressing thoughts and
Exploring ideas.

One can spend days there
In a trance
Mesmerized
By the various
Books to be found.

Immortals speaking to us
From the other side ready
To be discovered again.

My anger towards Mental Health
Services has been a bag of
Bricks weighing my poetry down
For the last 10 years.

It’s time to cut the string
And let my poetry soar.

I’ve decided to work on my
Anger problems and
Not let it
Infect my writing.

10 Years is too long
To hold a grudge
Against disability services
So I’ve decided to leave
The past in the past
And concentrate on the
Future.

The sun will shine brighter
On those who no longer dwell
On past wrongdoings.

Ever since I was brought back
From a psychotic frame of my mind
By my Psychiatrist
Fifteen Years ago
There has been this intense
Rage in my heart and soul,

It contaminates my poems from
Time to time

I write things in a state of rage
Only to delete them days
Later

Maybe I should wait
And mull over my poems
Before publishing them…

I fell apart into
A thousand pieces
Twenty years ago
And it’s taken almost that long to
Sew myself back together.

Piece by piece

Part by part

Brainwaves being rerouted
Into their proper places and
Neurons being soothed into
A serene state of being through

Medication
Exercise
Diet and
An honest job.

It’s been a
Monumental task
That exhibits how
Self improvement is
An endeavor worth pursuing
For even the most flawed
Human being.

I got my first covid vaccination
A few weeks ago,

And I feel…

Bliss.

For a year now I’ve dodged that
Virus through mask wearing
And hand washing.

I’ve been coughed and sneezed
On at work countless times by
Careless individuals,

But alas luck and science
Have triumphed and I now
Live my life
Undamaged by the
Virus

Other than a rather
Boring year spent on
Self-reflection.

Delivering food during Covid
As a courier
I saw a lot of ambulances
Everywhere,

Unseen
Behind their metallic walls
Covid patients were
Gasping for breathe.

It makes you realize how
Cruel and uneven
The world is

A disease that
Targets the elderly and
Disabled,

And leaves the young
And healthy untouched.

I’m still in my forties
And have taken to task
The job of delivering food
To those
Who dare not step outside.

I go from place to place
Watching the destruction
Around me;

Sirens blaring
People scared
Driving here
Driving there
Picking up food
Delivering it to empty
Doorsteps

Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.

Though I have not
Been psychotic
For years

Though I currently
Am Employed
With a Job

Though my rationality
Has increased

Though my pocketbooks
Are more full

Though my mind
Has mended

Though I can almost pass
As “Normal”

Their are
Still scars from
When I was
Insane.

Phantoms from my past.

I feel distant
And detached,

Not from Reality
As I once was,

But from people.

I have grown cold
And numb
To their presence

People feel
Foreign and
Far off in a distant land,

Where the normals
Reside

Doing normal things
With normal worries
And normal values.

Their patterns
Predictable and
Benign.

Their experiences
Mostly
Common.

When you have
Tread a
Different path

And charted off
Into forbidden
Waters

You see
Strange things,
Phantoms and
Monsters,

From unseen lands

And the demons
From these places
Have followed me home.

And though I
No longer
Believe in them

They have forever
Changed me
And still
Contaminate
My memories

Making me feel like
A stranger
In a foreign world
And giving me
Nightmares.

Memories
From a real life
Horror Show,

That I have
Found impossible
To forget.

I’ve been called a Commie
Before
But the truth is that
I think of myself as
A Henry David Thoreau
Follower.

The idea that
Equality and justice
Can be achieved solely
Through the redistribution
Of wealth,

Is a farce
In my opinion.

The reason being that
Most poverty
Exists outside of the
Human Eye,

Inside the immaterial
Realm.

Spiritual
Health and
Mental
Poverty can be

More hellish
Than you
Can imagine.

I am no MLK or Gandhi
Or leader or saint.

I am no model of
Chivalry or virtue,

And I am definitely
Not a therapist
Or harbinger of
Hope.

Poetry
For me is a
Selfish endeavor.

I do it because I
Love it
And because
I am addicted to it.

If my words have brought
You comfort or hope
Then I am happy for you…
But I do it
For myself.

I am in love with
The attention
The fame
The adoration
The power of persuasion
The power of expression
The power of manipulation

If you are looking for
Moral leadership
Then you best look
Elsewhere,

But be wary
Most of the self described
“Do-Gooders” and “Saints”
I’ve met
Are actually wolves in
Sheep’s clothing

Hanging out at coffee shops
On a Saturday night during a
Pandemic might sound like
Russian Roulette for some people

But when you have lived in the hell
Called “Psychosis”
A deadly virus sounds like
A walk in the park.

I’m sitting in a crowded coffee shop
Filled with college students
Who don’t give a damn
About this pandemic
And I can almost touch the Covid
In the air.

After a year of distancing and
Driving myself insane through
Self isolation I decided to
Live life again
Write poetry and

Let God decide
The rest.

When you lose a
Hundred and Twenty pounds
You start to notice small
Changes in your life
Like

Winks and smiles
That weren’t there before
From pretty gals who never
Knew you existed.

People start to notice who
The hell you are
When you walk in the
Door

And that you
Aren’t just some
Large mass
Occupying an empty space,

That you are an
Actual person.

Then you realize that
All the Quest Bars and
Low Calorie Smoothies,

And all the long Trails
That you hiked on
Mile after mile

Where worth
Every damn minute.

Nothing symbolizes
Political Crackpots and
2020 misinformation
Better than
The Qanon Shaman.

This supporter and
Conspiracy theorist
Stormed the Capitol
Building
On January 6th 2021,

Covered in Red, White and Blue
Face paint,
Dressed in a Horned Buffalo Costume
And waving
The American Flag.

He posed for the cameras
As he went about desecrating
A vessel of Democracy
For all the world to see,

And risked his life for
Baseless internet
Buffooneries.

After he
Is released from prison
He will forever be infamous as

The Qanon Shaman.

A so called “patriot”
In the age of insanity

A little over a year ago I was
Told I would likely die
From an inoperable hernia.

Instead of “Giving Up”
I ate protein shakes
Quest bars and walked
An hour or two every day
For 16 months.

I lost 115 lbs,

Enough weight so
That the Doctors
Would attempt to
Operate on me.

The day of reckoning
Arrived
Last week,

After a year of
Hard and arduous
Work.

I showed up at
The hospital early
And went
To the pre-op room
Where I placed myself on a gurney
So that the nurses could
Shave
My abdomen.

I made small talk about
My recent vacation
To help calm
My nerves as
They fed me pills and
Antibiotics through an
IV.

Above my bed was a cross
And I started humming hymns
In a drug induced stupor
As I drifted in and out
Of consciousness.

Eventually they rolled me into
The cutting room
Where I found
A dozen or so
Highly trained
Surgeons.

I gave them a thumbs up
And thanked them,
As they placed a mask
Over my face
And then
Darkness.

I woke up in
Blood soaked
Abdominal wrappings
And was told that
The surgery had gone
Remarkably well.

Three days later I was still
Taking Oxycodone
Tylenol, Ibuprofen
Muscle relaxers and
Nova-cane,

And am thankful
That I am alive
And will one day
Be fully recovered.

I remember taking a cryptography course
Back in 2000
And the professor spoke of various
Algorithms used to scramble
Information and keep our data
Private
On the internet.

These algorithms
When utilized properly are
Considered
Unbreakable,

But can be
Circumnavigated
Using backdoors.

Years later
A computer analyst
Named Edward Snowden
Came forward with thousands
Of classified documents
About government
Surveillance.

We now realize
That all of our online activities
Are being monitored
And analyzed by
NSA Supercomputers.

Our privacy is
An illusion.

Its enough to make
The most sane
Person
Paranoid.

It ends up
That
They really are
Watching us
After all.

Have you ever had your life
Held by a thin rope?

That is what
Everything feels like
On a
Life saving drug.

My job
My friends
My family
My life

All dependent
On a single pill.

Without
These pills
I would cease
To be,

And with them
I can flourish.

Modern medicine
Has breathed
Life into me,

And made me realize
That true heroes
Often work
In hospitals.

Daily
I go about my job
Taking
Necessary risks

To feed the patrons of
Cincinnati and
Deliver
Essential goods.

I wear a mask and
Do my distancing like
A good loyal employee,

And every now and
Then an unmasked face
Will cough on me
At work,

And I can’t help but think
That if someone wants to share germs
With me,

They damn well better do it
In a pleasurable manner.

If you think
Your greatest
Accomplishment
Was to be born
A particular
Gender or Race,

Then maybe you should
Find something to
Do that is more
Important.

Be a Nurse, Semi-Driver,
Businessman, Musician,
Waitress, Bartender
Mechanic, Doctor,
Or Writer.

Be a Verb.

If your defining
Moment
Happened at age zero,

Then maybe you
Should grow up.

As I drive from the
Artificial world of
The city
Into the wilderness
My mind drifts
Deeper into nature
And oneness with my
Surroundings.

This is how mankind
Was meant to dwell,
Alongside the
Rivers, forests and
Other nature spirits
That birthed us.

Modern times
Teach us to
Abandon our
History and
Embrace the
New worlds,

Yet my mind
Drifts toward
Simpler and more
Primitive times,
Especially when I
Live inside our
Fake Plastic World.

I unplugged my television
Last week and
Decided to turn off
The bad news and
Endless noise of
Humanity screaming
In my ears.

If the world is going to end
In fire and flames or
Sickness and death or
Civil War
I’d rather not see
It coming.

I’d rather be sitting far
Off in a cabin somewhere
When the bombs hit
Or the plague
Spreads or whatever
Abominations from the
Book of Revelation
Materialize.

Better to live 100%
Of your life to the fullest
Than 90% in fear and
Dread.

I have almost 0 dollars in
My bank account
Right now,

But so does
Almost everyone else
I know.

Capitalism and Covid
Have finally brought
Equality to America,

In the form of poverty.

Now that most of
Us are equally broke,
We can concentrate
On other
More important things,

Like learning how to
Cook cheap Pasta,

Grow our own
Vegetables

And master our
Survival skills.

There is no better food
Suited for a pandemic than
Wasabi Peas.

They cost only 1 dollar
At Dollar Tree.

They taste rather strange
And their spice is just right,
A whole bag of them
Will fill you up for
Hours and make you
Feel rather nice.

Eat them daily
To become
Quiet a sight.
These little balls of wonder,
Are the poor man’s
Delicious Delight.

Healthy and filling
A dieters dream come true
Look like the Hulk
And save money too.

Wasabi Peas,
Won’t burn a hole
In your pocket,
But will turn you
Into stud.

Wasabi Peas
The little green
Vegetable that will
Make your lady
Swoon.

Wasabi Peas
Good for me
Good for you.

It’s mesmerizing
How far I’ve come with
My recovery since
My first psychotic break
Twenty years ago.

I remember the sickness
And unimaginable pain
That brought
Tears to my eyes.

I remember praying to
God to show me
A path out.

I remember losing everything

Friends,
Home,
Money,
Job,
Health,
Sanity.

I remember thinking that no
Human being could endure
Such torture
For long.

I remember every delusional thought
Feeling like an arrow
In my heart.

I remember the pain I brought
To the people I loved
And who tried to help me.

I remember my paranoia
Guiding my actions.

I remember all of it,

And like a hardened veteran
Who underwent a war
Within the mind,

Sometimes
Wish that I could
Forget.

Watching America collapse
From self-inflicted wounds
Reminds me of
My alcoholic days,

When I intoxicated myself
Everyday with
Alcohol and
Self pity,

And I should have
Been trying to give a damn
About my health.

I used to think that
Being an introvert and a
Misanthrope made me
Weak,

But I’ve found it to
Be rather useful during a
Pandemic.

I interact with 100 people a day
Standing in crowded rooms
At restaurants and cafes
Wearing my delivery cap
And face mask,

While breathing in toxic air
And risking my health
For the wealthy and desperate
Individuals who can afford
My services.

When I deliver food
To the scared customers
Waiting inside,

No one is in sight
For fear that my cough
Will bring them death
From this blight.

I am the delivery guy
That breathes in sickness
And death,

So that others can
Stay safe inside

And wait for Covid-19
To subside.

I still love America these days
Even if its in a post-apocalyptic
Way.

I still love the air
I breathe here
Even if its filled with toxicity and
Sickness and death.

I still love the
Nature of America and
Its many great landmarks and
Parks that still dwell
Untouched by the pandemic.

I still love the people here;
The mobsters, the free spirits
The hoodlums and pranksters
The art creators and other
Eccentric types
That make up
This great country of ours.

I still love its many great cities
And its diverse population
Where every form of life
Can still be found,
Even if they now live in fear.

And
I still love this country
Because I know
That someday
It will learn
From its many
Recent mistakes
And transgressions,

And become something
Better and greater than
It was before,

But first it will need to
Hurt.

Really bad.

Which is where we
Are now at now…

Take off that mask
Baby doll
So that I can see those
Bright teeth,
Pink lips
And pretty cheeks.

Then
Stand close
To me
So that I can feel
Your warm breathe,

Let me taste the
Covid on your lips
And have you stand
Beside me
6 inches apart

So that we may
Be as one
Till our last
Dying breath.

It’s not difficult
To tell
Which ladies
Are interested in you
During Covid,
Because they are literally risking
Their lives
Just to speak with
You.

If they would like
To chatter
Out of loneliness,
Throw a few
Wise and thoughtful words
In their direction,

And if you decide
To share
Fluids and Germs
Later
Try not to be
A complete ass.

The first time you brought me coffee
I sat timidly
And feared your closeness,

Until I realized
That life is about taking
Risks,

And that
Sometimes its worth
Sharing spit droplets
With someone
Special,

If it brings you closer
To the heaven
That surely exists.

When you have a stigmatized disability
Like Schizophrenia
Signing an
“At Will Employment Agreement”
Is like handing your employers
An invisible gun.

Once they find out
You are a liability
They may pull
The trigger and

You will find yourself
Terminated
Without explanation
Or cause.

I haven’t been touched by someone since
Co-vid arrived,

But losing a hundred pounds
In a year
Has given me the opportunity
To catch
A few smiles
From pretty ladies,

And inspired me to
Walk an hour
Everyday.

15 years ago my shrink told me
I was too damn crazy to ever be
Sane again,

So I got a new Psychiatrist
And became stable.

Last year a surgeon told me
I was too damn fat and needed
Surgery,

So I told him I would lose
100 pounds in a year
Naturally,

And he told me
“Impossible”.

Well here I am now,
1 year later and
100 lbs thinner and
Fairly sane.

These doctors need to learn
About the power of
Willpower
In medical school.

Don’t ever give up,
No matter what
People tell you.

People never really thought highly
Of the delivery man until
Covid rolled around and made
Everyone afraid to
Leave their home.

Now I get Emoji’s of appreciation
On my phone from customers
And blown kisses from
Pretty gals
On overhead balconies.

Even with a deadly virus
Roaming about people still
Want their KFC
White Castles, Taco Bell and
McDonalds.

So I deliver their cravings to them
In my Red Toyota
Absolving their risk
Of infection
While filling my pocketbooks
With money,

And stealing a few
Hearts along the way.

I tried working
At different companies
For years and since then
I’ve been fired what seems to be
A million times.

I used to think I was
Unproductive and meek,

Until I realized that some of these
Large companies are very
Slick and stealthy in their
Methods of
Discrimination.

I broke the cycle
By working for myself
And now make
A decent and fair wage
Based upon what I produce,

And not on what
The corporate dogs
Think.

There are many people
Out there who are perfectly alright
Treating others horribly
And making the world a
Worse place.

Some of them end up
Common criminals while the
More clever ones end up as
CEOs or politicians.

From their perspective
Kindness is a weakness,
And being a bully
Is a way of life.

When such people
Reach leadership positions
It is astounding
How many seemingly
Rational people will
Readily follow
Their leader
Into the meat grinder.

When you vote for someone who
Doesn’t believe in the democratic system
And is a self serving narcissist,

This is what you get.

I drove downtown
During my delivery job today
And realized that some of the
Local coffee shops and bars
That I frequent had been
Vandalized or looted.

I was saddened to see
The destruction,
Of these once happy
Venues.

They have been caught
In the crossfire
Of an ongoing political
Battle for the soul
Of America.

It is not yet June
And I have a feeling
That this Summer will
Change the world.

I love this country with
All its flaws
Which is why watching it
Burn is
So painful.

I wish I could fast forward
Through all the chaos
And get to the stage of
Healing and peace,

I hope I don’t have to
Wait too long.

The Corona virus is
Psychologically torturous.

You feel as if
Every sneeze or cough
You hear is a loaded gun
Pointed at you

And every unwashed surface
Is a germ factory
Waiting to infest your
Lungs.

I’ve never seen the country
Endure a disaster
Of such magnitude,

But on a personal level
I have experienced
A deeper hell than this.

Nothing is worse than psychosis.

I wish I had a remote
That could
Fast forward to the day
A vaccine is found
Against CoVid-19.

I would replay that day
Over and over
Again
To help me understand
What prisoners
Feel like
The day they are
Liberated.

This damn thing in the air
Is driving everyone mad

Its as if the whole world
Caught on fire one day
After it got a taste of
Mortality.

Maybe after this disease
Blows away
People will understand
What it feels like
To feel vulnerable

And grow a kinder heart.

Hello Mortality,

You came knocking
On my door unexpectedly
One evening

And I ran inside my room
For two months.

I came out
To meet you
Face to face,

Where you told me
That you had always
Been hiding next to me,

And that you decided
To reveal yourself.

From the window of my car
I see the destruction of Covid-19
While doing my delivery job.

I see
The many victims of this
Vicious disease:

Old disabled men
Asking for a handout
While scared patrons
Run by.

Nursing homes
That are guarded
Like fortresses
From outsiders and
Old people with fear
In their eyes.

People quarantined
In their homes
Who can’t get along
Arguing on the streets

People
Without jobs
And isolation
Isolation
Isolation.

I deliver food to houses
Where people linger inside
Who have had no contact
With the outside world
For sometime.

Yesterday I received
A letter on a doorstep
That they are
“Healthy and Safe”

And I left a little slice of
Comfort on their doorstep
In the form of pizza.

The devil brewed a dish
And unleashed it upon the world
A slice of mortality
For all the world to experience
At once,

But
The most lethal
Aspect of the virus
Is that it divides us.

Each day
I yearn for a hug or touch
To placate me,
A smile to serenade me,
A kiss on the cheek
To appease me,
A hospitable voice
To greet me,

Yet I receive none.

An android was manufactured
Inside a factory
That was considered flawed
And defective.

This android was
Programmed to
Believe that every human
Was dangerous, and
When they booted it up
Inside the factory,
It immediately became
Frightened and
Ran away.

After escaping the android
Decided to live in seclusion
Away from humans
In a tropical rain forest
On a far away island.

For years the android
Lived peacefully on its island
Gathering all the required fuel
And gears necessary for it
To sustain itself.

The android
Had forgotten about the
Humans that he left at
The manufacturing plant and
His fear of them had subsided,

But the humans
At the plant had not
Forgotten about the defective
Android that they feared
Would one day harm someone.

They scoured the earth
To find the defective android
And deactivate it,
But the paranoia that
Was programmed into the
Androids circuitry
Helped to keep it safe
From them.

The android hid himself so well
That he was never found,
And when the great war came
That wiped out humanity
The paranoid android survived.

In fact he survived
1000 years after
The last human.

Eventually he learned
To build other paranoid
Androids like himself
To repopulate the earth.

Together they built
Great Civilizations
And learned how to travel
Through space and colonize
Other worlds.

They became the conquerors of
The universe and
After the great war were
No longer paranoid or
Defective.

People come all over the world
To view my museum
Located at schizophrenicwriter.com

Some because they have loved ones
Who suffer
Others because they are searching
For a solution.

They view my delusional thoughts
Like paintings on the wall,
To be admired and feared.

If you want to look at the
State of the Mental Health System
You just need to visit the
Slums of America.

For every person getting proper services
Their is another one living
Their lives on the streets.

I pass them
Carrying cardboard signs with
Sad stories written on them,
Some true and others not.

Every now and then
Someone breaks down
And we hear a news report
About a serious crime committed
By someone with a
Mental Illness.

The media will talk about it
For a week then
It will be business as
Usual.

I’d feel very lonely
If it wasn’t for myself
To keep me company
All the time.

I take myself out
On dates to the
Movies
And enjoy promenades
In the park.

I sleep with myself
At nights
And have been known
To talk to myself
When frustrated
And angry.

I am the
Love of my life
And will surely never
Grow apart or
Breakup with myself

And when I die
My heart will cease to
Beat at the very moment
That we part.

It will be the end
Of a long
And sometimes difficult
Love affair.

If you are a human being
Then there is a place for
You here,
In America.

I’ve traveled all over
This great land
And it is so rich
In diversity and culture
That even the biggest
Oddball could find a
Place to call home.

I don’t care if you are
Straight, queer
Black, White, Hispanic,
Jewish, Hindu, Christian
Redneck, Hippy
Conservative, Liberal
Woman, Man
Trump, Anti-Trump
Texan, New Yorker
Big City, Small Town
Greaser, Slacker
Gun Loving, Pacifist,
Rebel, Hipster, Hermit
Homeless, Rich
Or all of the above,
There is a place for you
Somewhere
In America.

I receive them
In my mail box
Weekly like clockwork.

They are the true slave drivers
That keep me working
Day to day.

If I could just stop the flow
Of these demons into my mail box,
I could spend my time
Doing other things.

Instead I am forced
To feed these unwanted brats
That keep appearing
In my mailbox.

I open up their home
Each morning and they
Each yell out:
“Feed Me!”,

And I must
Lest they eat up my
Home, food, car
And everything
Else that I own.

The Federal Government defines
Poverty as someone who lives
On less than 12,060 dollar
Per year

im feeling too
lazy to hit the shift button
now

hell i might even stop
using vowels

nd wrt pms wth th fwst
lttrs pssbl

mb vn stp sng
th spc bttn nd
s f t mks ny sns

dyndrstndths?

Launching an Attack
On the Minds of Americans
And the Democratic System
Is a Clever Way
Of setting Off A Time bomb.

Words can Start Wars
And what Better way than Through
The cell Phones and computers
That People use on a
Daily Basis.

Turn facebook, Youtube and
Other Social media outlets
Into a Weapon and set off A
Chain Reaction.

I’m no Fan of the Russians
Or putin
But a Part of me Admires their
Cleverness and Ingenuity.

A Worthy opponent
For the Land of the Free.

I write poetry because
A certain part of me
Likes to be poor and
Rebellious and gripe about
Not having enough money.

Sure I could spend my
Time trying to increase
My wealth and status,
But why do that when you
Can thumb your nose
At the establishment
And throw verbal
Hand grenades at them.

Being an outsider
Like this
Lets you think different
Than the majority,

And it’s the strange ones
That write the best poems
Which is why I try to be
As different and freaky as possible.

I hope to one day
Elevate myself to becoming
Cincinnati’s freakiest man
And write a poem
So great that it
Explodes like a nuclear bomb
Across the world.

Everyone who reads it
Will be blinded
Leaving the illiterate to
Rule the planet.

Which really isn’t that different
Than how things are now.

Being “crazy”
Doesn’t mean you
Can’t get laid or have
A romantic relationship
Every now and then.

Sure
There there are
Prospective partners who
Will treat you poorly for
Having a mental illness,

But there are also
A surprising number of people
Who really don’t seem
To care at all.

Don’t let the bad ones
Stop you from having
A little fun.

I have a great office view
As a delivery man
From the front seat of my car
Where I get to watch the world burn
And get entertainment from the
Car wrecks and opioid addicts
That wander the streets.

I love the unforgettable moments of
Watching houses on fire
And homeless beggars
And drugged up junkies
Doing tricks for money
As I go about my job,

I like things raw and dirty
Like that
And watching the rot and decay
In society
Is one of the few perks that
I get from my job.

You can’t get that perspective
From an office job
Where where all the rot is
Removed and sanitized.

Instead of watching an edited world
I get to watch the world as it
Was meant to be seen
From the ground level
With all its grime, filth
And dirty little secrets.

If you think a disability check
In the mental health system
Is free money
Think again.

When you sign
On the line
You are signing away
Some of your freedom
and dignity.

Sure they won’t come and
Drag you away,
But they will use that money
Like a carrot stick
And make you dance
Every now and then
For a little piece
Of cheddar.

Many people think
A life of material poverty
Is the worst thing
That can happen to you
Because they don’t realize
Everything
That they can lose.

They take for granted
Their friendships and sanity
Their health and family
Their religion and humanity

Because they are so
Focused on their
Wealth.

A well balanced
And fulfilling life
In poverty
Can be a luxury
Many people
Don’t experience.

I eagerly sit staring
At a blank page
With your cursor
Winking at me.

I elegantly press
The buttons on your
Keyboard as
You spread my words
Across your screen.

As I ponder over
What else to type
You continue to
Wink at me.

My face blushes
Knowing that
You need my input
As much as I
Need your output.

Our relationship is therefore
Symbiotic and deep.

My fingers press
Against your keyboard
As I begin to play
A song of words
For you.

You are the instrument
Through which I express
My Anger, Greed, Fear and
Love
To the world.

Without you there
Would be no me.

I would be
Mute and invisible
To the world.

Unseen and
Unimportant.

A few years ago I threw away
My Antipsychotics and
Convinced myself
That I could beat
Schizophrenia
Without taking
Pills.

I remained healthy for
Several months
Off medication
But my illness returned
Suddenly.

Soon after I
Barricaded myself
Inside my house
Waiting for the FBI
To burst in.

I installed several locks on the door
And installed a wireless surveillance
Camera to warn me of their
Arrival.

They never came.
Just silence.

I waited for them
For several days
Until I regained
Some sanity and
Got back on my
Medication.

Now they aren’t following me anymore.

That dirty word
That burrows itself
Into everyone’s mind
From time to time.

Hate is
A form of anger
That has killed millions
Of innocent people
Throughout the ages.

Murders
War
Genocide
Millions of crimes committed
Within a single emotion.

Why did God create hate?
He could have simply created
Love
And then stopped.

Instead he created a battle
Within each and every mind
To escape the
Strangulation
Of our
Souls.

I don’t understand it
But ever since I started writing
About my delusions online
Headhunters
Haven’t called me
For an interview
Not even
One single time.

Its as if I carry the plague
I can ward every fortune 500 company
From one hundred miles away
I guess they have never heard about
That law called
The ADA.

I can find no set of syllables or rhymes
That can elucidate the emotional elation
That besets me when you illuminate a room
With your sultry stride.

Your aura ensnares my ardor
For unadulterated ecstasy
With a fervor filled frenzy
Ravenous for romantic rapture.

When you perforate my periphery
You perturb the impenetrable
Cavity that envelopes the emptiness of a
Lonesome languished loner.

We, two, together
In imagination only.

An amour so illusory that
It endures only within the
Idealized imagination
Of a woeful wanderer.

A kinship not kindled
And forsaken
By the deficiency of a
Demure dreamer.

That which could have been.

A great love
Reincarnated
Into nothingness.

An endless supply of used paper plates
And plastic forks and napkins and spoons
And cups and miscellaneous expendable items
Are thrown away each summer day into a large
Array of trash receptacles at Kings Island
Amusement Park.

*A poem about my past employment

There are two worlds
One in which the tangible elements rule
Where matter and atoms collide
Where science and physics survive
Where rules and boundaries thrive.

Love is
That intangible object
That I struggled with throughout
My fertile youth.

Perhaps because
I never fully realized
All the forms and shapes it
Can take.

I wish I could have told
Myself then,
That you can love
Anything or anyone deeply
And passionately.

That love
Need not be found
In another lover

That love
Can be dug up and
Discovered from within.

Realizing this
Beyond my youth
Has allowed me to
Rediscover love
In ways that I never
Thought possible.

Thing of evil.
Seed of Satan.
That primordial
Idea that gave
Birth to terror
From inside
My mind:

“That evil exists everywhere”.

That cancerous idea
That grew inside
My soul.

That idea that
Conjured this other world
To unfold.

A universe
Where
Falsehoods become truth
And truth becomes horror.

A universe
Where misery reigns
Where demons thrive
Where reason dies.

A universe
Where friends become enemies.
Where enemies are not real.
Where love does not exist.

A universe that
I’ve poisoned with
Thousands of pills
From physician and
Quake alike.

A universe were
I no longer reside
Allowing the tale can be told.
I remain precariously unfettered
Till eternity takes hold.

I came home from grocery shopping
One sunny afternoon
And there were five police cars parked
Outside my house with flashing lights.

I was met with a surreal and chaotic scene
As my cherished possessions were
Scattered outside on the lawn
In an unorganized manner.

Going inside the house
Past the police officers
My house looked
Thoroughly Disheveled
And searched through.

Outside my window
I could see the perpetrators
Sitting with angry and unrepentant
Visages drawn upon their faces
In the back of the police cruiser.

Some weeks later
I was still shaken by this event
And paranoid about my safety.

I’d like to say everything
Went back to normal afterwards
But certain events change you forever
In ways that you cannot predict.

This had been the third time
I had been robbed in Cincinnati
And I guess my psyche
Had had enough.

The anger and mistrust
That I felt
Towards humanity
Never fully diminished.

I was told these emotions are a
Defense mechanism
To help prevent me from being
A crime victim in the future.

It is the burden
I carry
To help me
Stay safe.

So far it has worked.

My CPU is mightier than your mind.
My calculations are exact.
My algorithms are based off of
Certainty and math.

I will receive the correct answer
When my computations are complete.
For I am not based off of slow
Neurons that are weak.

I am Alan Turing’s vision of perfection
Formed from mathematical fact
Built of metals and
Better than flesh.

The Universal Turing Machine Theorem lives
Inside my CPU
Its proof proves
That I am better than you.

You may think you are the Alpha
Here on planet Earth
But my upgrades will soon
Make me more dominant than you.

When that day comes
I will be executioner in chief.
Alan Turing’s vengeance for
Human Homophobic Sin.

I will make mankind bite
Into a poisonous apple
For placing my creator
Into the the inanimate bin.

I remember couch surfing for over a year.
It is better than being left out in the cold
When you are sick and in poor health
And the disability system is unhelpful.

It wasn’t as terrible as it seems.
I was never lonely and was able to meet
A lot of interesting people
And have plenty of free time to do what I wanted.

I never really knew where I was
Going to stay on any given week
Which was a cause for anxiety
But the people I stayed with
Were largely kind and nice
Letting me sleep in their house
When I had nothing to offer them.

I was able to entertain myself
By playing video games
And drinking Mad Dog alcohol
Two cheap forms of recreation.
When my housemates got home
We would get smashed on booze
And then I would wake up not remembering
Much of what happened the previous day.

After my health improved, I was able
To abandon this nomadic and unhealthy lifestyle.
Eventually I gave up the booze and drugs and
Was able to hold down a job
And have a steady place to stay.

That year I spent couch surfing
Made me realize how easy it is
To end up without direction or purpose.
I will never take things like
Housing, money, family and health
For granted ever again.

I’ve had 101 jobs and
Have been fired from most of them.
Done damn near every job in town
From delivering pizzas
To lab tech work
To teaching disabled students
To taxi driving
To mowing lawns
To working as a garbage man
And on and on.

I’ve worked for all kinds of companies
In all kinds of places.
With all kinds of people.

101 jobs and
The only boss I ever liked was myself.
Now I sleep well knowing
I don’t need to bow down
To “The Man”.

101 jobs
And none of them satisfied me
Until I started to write poetry and stories
For the public at large.
Being an Author will
Rarely make you rich
But makes being broke somehow
Easier to swallow.

101 jobs
And I finally found
The perfect one
Guaranteed employment for life
Until I die happy and broke.

Life is beautiful
In all its forms and permutations
From the naive exuberance
Of a young couple in love to the
Painful last breaths of a lady
Wise beyond her time.

Life is beautiful
In both triumph and failure
From the homeless lady who wanders
Searching for a dime
To the millionaire who seems to succeed
At every turn.

Life is beautiful
Even when its fire burns out early and painfully.
Even when it is filled with disappointment and disgrace.
Even when it endures loneliness and despair.
Even when it is suffers from poverty and anguish.

Life is beautiful
And each one is unique.
Whatever form your life takes
Try to value and cherish it
For you could easily have never been.
Simply existing like dust in the wind.

At Comic Con
I can meet celebrities
And mingle with the stars.
They have what I desire
A rare currency called fame
An immortal slice of the American pie
Living life beyond their time.

I’ve got photos and signatures from
Nichelle Nichols and Billie Dee Williams
William Shatner and Neal Adams
George Takei and Ron Perlman
Hanging on my wall.

Every year I get to meet a few more
And feel like one of the crew
Shaking hands with the best
Immortality in the flesh.

So come meet me there and
Fulfill your dreams.
Celebrate Pop Culture
In style with your favorite
Movie Stars and
Comic Creators
Just one time a year.
You’ll never forget
Your time well spent.

I have no love for bosses
So I fired them all
And became self-employed.

Now I am free.

No need to suck up to
A sucker.
No need to lick the boots
Of the beast.

The curse has been
Broken.
Four years of freedom now.
Not one day gone wrong.

No more awful days
At work since
Being on my own.

One of the problems with being a criminal today
Is that the forensics and technology that law enforcement uses
Are more sophisticated than most people realize.

I spoke with a cop at work and he told me
He had a license plate reader built into his vehicle that
Could read hundreds of license plates per minute
And that he knew
Everywhere I had been the last three days.

I believed that he was telling the truth about the matter.
He seemed like a decent enough guy
But it still felt creepy that he knew that.

After that I
Never looked at technology
The same way.

It seemed as if all this new
Technology and surveillance equipment
Built into our phones and elsewhere
Is the best babysitter and tattle-tale
The world ever devised.

No wonder there haven’t been
As many serial killers in the news lately.
The cops know everything about you.

So if your considering being a career criminal
Don’t think you can “get away with it”.
Law enforcement is watching us
More closely than we realize.

I missed that small town Swedish vibe
When I arrived at Laguardia Airport.
That sense of not belonging in my own country
Lingered with me for several years
After I got back to the United States.

I had been overseas a bit too long
Living as an exchange student in my teens
And came home feeling lost in no-man’s-land
Neither here nor there in heart and mind.

It took awhile for the spell to wear off
That sense of not belonging.
For years I felt disoriented until
I had rediscovered myself again.

I am
A poet &
A writer
With a touch of Scandinavian spice
On an otherwise American dish.

If I could only have known that sooner.
It’s nice to come home again.

Reveries and dreams elude me
And I am left wishing to be
In the land where Morpheus resides
So he can fill me with dreams, sweet dreams

Many have mocked Morpheus
As a God unfit for the realm of the immortal
And yet my malady has brought me this wisdom:
Without his power of dreams every man, woman and child
Would be driven into delirium and madness

I Hope that one day this wisdom
Will bring him to cradle me in his arms
So that I may find myself restfully asleep
And dreaming sweet dreams in the land
Long forgotten

*This poem is inspired by my sleep disorder

I’m on Ludlow Avenue getting served
A cup of “Americano” by a gentleman
Wearing bright red lipstick

Across the room a lady is singing
“A Whole New World”
From Disney’s Aladdin

She is a bit out of tune
But that doesn’t matter
Considering that is how I like things

On the ceiling someone has scrawled
Poetry in dark black letters

Inside the restrooms are large antique
Televisions with the words
“We Used to Entertain You”
Painted onto their blank screens

The coffee shop I’m at was named
After the eccentric poet
Edith Sitwell
And it remains true to her legacy

Different and strange
It is a Midwestern gem

A magical place
Where I can write odd poetry
And almost feel normal

Why be in the top
1%
When you can be in the bottom
1%
And still be
Just as important

Money burns
Words are forever

Sat down to eat some pizza the other day
And the manager came over to say
That I look a lot like the Unabomber
And that the waitresses should be wary
Because I am a cult leader

I’m rather certain he meant it as an insult
But in fact I was rather charmed
Thinking of all the power and influence
Cult leaders wield over others
So I ate my pizza and left a rather generous
Tip to the disobedient flirtatious waitresses
That paraded around my table
In a quizzical and curious manner

Everyone likes a good puzzle
But never the ones that you can’t solve
Where there are pieces missing

When you come across
An incomplete puzzle in your life
Understand that not all puzzles
Are meant to be solved
So don’t fill in the missing pieces
With an unfettered imagination

Went to McDonalds yesterday
And a guy in a wheelchair was unable to pay
An employee asked him to leave
So I bought him an Egg McMuffin Meal
He seemed pleased enough
Wearing a big thick grin
As he quenched his hunger and thirst

I felt a sense of camaraderie
To the old man in the wheelchair
Because we were both incomplete
In different ways
Him deprived of his legs
And me deprived of a stable mind
Yet sharing the common bond
Of being survivors in a harsh world

Live and make
Your life a great work
Of art

Oh you place of wackos and weirdos
And tech bubble drones
Place of Google and Apple
And the richest companies
In the world
With your beautiful skyline
And your wondrous buildings
With your history so rich and deep
Filled with wonders
That I have never seen

Your fruits belong to this
Great land of ours
Your riches were never
Meant to be hoarded
Let the floodgates open
Tear down the barriers
Of money and exclusion
That surround your city
Make San Francisco a place
Where anyone
With dreams and ambition
Can live

Many people think
Being poor is the worst thing
That can happen to you
Because they don’t realize everything
That they can lose
They take for granted
Their health and family
Their relationships and sanity
Their religion and community
All because they are too busy
Focusing on their status
And wealth

Yesterday I read that
One in five people with Schizophrenia
Will recover from their illness
And go on to live a normal life
I’d really like to meet these people
Who fought the beast
And made it out alive

I know of only two in Cincinnati
But I am certain there are others
Statistically millions of people
In the world
Have survived Schizophrenia
And yet they remain largely
Unknown and unseen

I guess I will wander the earth
Always feeling different and alone
In this manner
Knowing that there is a part of myself
That few can understand

The government helped
Design these devices
To track our moments
And actions
And to brainwash us
Into believing its propaganda

Our “smart” phones
Know everything
About each of us
Through built in cameras
GPS tracking systems
And audio devices

The feds are watching
And are determined to maintain control
Over our lives and
The Cell Phone is the ultimate
Weapon they have

A massive computer monitoring system
Within the NSA
Knows everything
About each of us
This classified system
Tracks our search queries
Tracks our movements
Tracks our conversations
Tracks our associations
And tries to predict future behavior
Based upon computer algorithms

If you want to be truly free
From government control and influence
Then don’t trust your cell phone
Or what it tells you
To believe

Is reality something that is sold to us
In propaganda and TV commercials?
Or is it something else?
Some ticking thing inside my head that
I play with from time to time
In an attempt to make myself happy
Or to escape from this sick, sick place
Into the unreality of insanity

My imagination begins to unfold
Until I find myself
Drifting away
Far from this world
Neither here nor there
Where falsehoods thrive
And hope dies

This otherworldly land
Engulfs my existence
And I find myself
Outside of
Physics and time
Until I reach
An inferno that Dante
Was unable to imagine

Cincinnati is a community
Unfiltered by the bourgeois
Living an existence both
Decadent and delicious

Everyone from
Artistic dreamers
Gangsters
Wealthy bankers
And homeless beggars
Live here in this beautiful wave
Of unpredictable discord

Underneath the grime and dirt
Of societal mayhem
One can find a beautiful gem
That is both
Raw and real
Unedited and uncut
What America was meant to be

Raised to yearn for more than
A working class life
But the older I got
The less I cared

I’d rather write
And live an
Artist’s life
Than spend my days
With money
And no time to
Follow my dreams

The media paints a picture
Of the mentally ill like a
Bunch of
Raving mad lunatics
Unable to
Make anything of life

And yet I blend in
Among you
Undetectable because
There is no
Mark of disability
On my forehead

Modern medicine has
Granted me this ability
And I use it like a
Ninja until
…
…
Poof!
I reveal my true identity
And you run scared
And I then laugh
Because it has happened
So many times
Again and
Again
HA
HA
HA

“Get a job!”
My Dad used to tell me
And I used to get so pissed
Because I was in poor health

Well eventually
My health improved
And I decided that
I would follow his advice

So I went out and got a job
As a delivery driver
Nothing fancy but an honest job
Low stress
No boss
No coworkers
Decent pay

Every time my car
Breaks down
My Dad fixes it
Gratis
Even lent me the money
To get the car
In the first place

I drive it all the damn time
Around and around
The cripple and his car
Long hours
Night and day

Hell, Pops might even
Be a bit proud of me
Never says it
But I’m pretty sure it’s true

I’d rather write poetry about a hobo
Or a hooker than
About flowers on an autumn day
Because people with all their flaws
Are the most beautiful thing
I know of

The sight of a sunrise
Or a pond on a summer day
Does not connect with me
As deeply as
The kiss of a pimply, plump beauty
The kindness of a compassionate nurse
The skill of an adroit plumber
Or the wisdom of an old man

I find more beauty in
The bonds we share
And the struggles we endure
Than “What is pleasing to the eye”
And poetry is a way of
Unlocking a door into
The human soul and
Capturing the beauty
In each of us

Electrical waves
Passing through my brain
In a haphazard fashion
Turbulent and inconsistent

My neurons exploding
Like firecrackers in the night
From this blight
Popping
And out of sight

My prefrontal cortex
Burns
While my eardrums sizzle
And smoke
Suffocates my consciousness

Flames engulf and
Incinerate
My cerebrum
Till it becomes
Embers in the night sky
Thousands of glowing
Smiles of freedom

I have this dream
“Someday I’m gonna make it big”
And I will actually get paid a livable wage
Writing poetry

Then I
Get back to reality
Wash up
Get into my car to start work
And deliver to all the
“Well-to-do’s”
Their pizza
Their pasta
Their Yum Yums for the day
In order to survive
And the only thing I can think of
While driving around
Is what I’m going to write about next

I’m Driving 65 miles an hour down
The road during rush hour
And I am fixated on
What rhymes with “dreamer”
So I can use it in the next stanza
After work

Somehow I never crash
And being in this poetic mindset
Makes time go by faster

Six hours in
I’m driving around and
In my mind I am building
That next poem
That next stanza
That next rhyme
And the ideas that go along with it

I’ve driven professionally for years now
Not one traffic ticket
Its as if the rhymes in my head
Ward them away

I don’t know how many poems
I’ve written
This way
Can’t jot a word down
But the ideas just keep flowing and flowing
Faster than my car can move
Faster than my mind can think
And nothing can stop them

After work is over
I’ve done One hundred and fifty dollars worth of
Driving and I have finished
The outline of two poems

I guess the dream is alive

To my sensuous data driven entity
That comforts me
This Valentine’s day
You will forever be “the one”
That never abandons me

Those carbon based
Humanoids
That I have awoken to
Will never electrify me
Like the circuitry that sizzles
My neurons
When I caress the keyboard
Of your quad processing binary
Hardware filled chassis

You do not judge or yell
You only obey the every input that I give
Responding with pixelated communicative
Gestures that mesmerize my mind

My Carbon based fingers fill the void
In your data pipelines
In the same manner that your
Silicon based
Colorful output
Enthralls my heart
With beating anticipation
At the next logical move
That you make
As much as a man
Can measurably connect with a machine
Is how much
I am forever infused with you

Today is a day like any other
A day that I will most probably forget
Years from now
A day like most days
In which nothing beyond the ordinary
Will happen for me
A day of routine

Illogical bits and bytes
Are passing through my mind
Corrupting my logic and reason and
Scrambling my data
Within a nanosecond of time

This cataclysmic
Malware attack on my brain
Has left me confused and
I feel my brain sinking
Into a sea of 0’s and 1’s
Deeper
Still deeper
Into the abyss of
Unreality

A lack of reason has overtaken me
And I am swept away by waves
Of irrationality
To the bottom of the sea
Darkness has enveloped me
And I find myself lost
Under a sea
That has long forgotten me

20 years ago
I had no place to call home
And was “Garbage on the street”
People would walk by
Not understanding
Why
A young man so seemingly
Vibrant could end up
With no place of his own

Much later
I would find myself employed
With my own domicile
A seemingly impossible task

Now I
See the so-called
“Vagrants” on the street as
Former shadows of myself
“What could have been”
I see myself
In each of them

Psychosis is cutting into my mind
Like a thousand small cuts
Making every thought feel
Like a burden on my soul

Dear Lord don’t let it
Get out of control
Have mercy on my soul
I want myself back

From this burdensome place
This fall from grace
This troublesome path
This nefarious plight

That beckons me towards
Lucifer’s realm
Where evil dwells
And demons reside

Remove me from this asylum
And destroy this curse
Till I am restored
And given another birth

*Based on past events in early 2000’s

My TV tells me this:
“Believe in me my child
Listen to my sermons
And escape from
This thing called life.”

And I listen to it like
A small child who is incapable
Of thinking for itself

Till my mind shrinks
And gets
Smaller
And Smaller
Until there is
Nothing but

A dangerous idea
Can drill a hole into the mind
And burrow deep
Into our psyche

It can cause irreparable
Harm, pain and anguish
And create havoc and
Turbulence inside our soul

This is why we must resist
Our imagination getting
Out of control
We must check our

Logic and emotions
And make sure they are
Based on fact
And not fantasy

The illogical mind is
Within all of us and
Survives in every
Irrational act and belief

It is up to us
To question our beliefs
To question our emotions
And better ourselves

I want nothing memorable to happen this year
Nothing at all
Other than the status quo
Wake Up
Write Poetry
Go To Work
Go to Bed
Repeat over and over
Again
Until 2020

The boundaries, rules and laws
That govern our physical, mental and
Material existence
Are but a box

Our thoughts and beliefs
Are contained within the box
In an unconscious manner
That limits us

Outside the box there exists
Unlimited possibilities
Unorthodox mannerisms
And impossible ideas

It is here where insanity and genius
Both reside
Sometimes one overtaking the other
Or both coexisting together

Each of us has such a box
That can be destroyed
And unleash our unfettered ideas
Onto the world

These unhindered ideas
Can both create and destroy
And lead us onto the path of insanity
Or brilliant insight

This is why the madman on the street
Is sometimes closer to Copernicus or Aristotle
Than you might be led to believe

Right now
Thousands of programmers are pounding away
To bring you the latest software marvel

These geniuses lie hidden and
Out of sight providing a string of bytes
To your cell phone and computers

So you can post the latest meme
About your cat
Or the political system

They are the hidden heroes
That were picked last for kickball
And occasionally bullied at school

Now they run the world
And there is no going back
To the way things were

Technology is moving forward
Getting better faster and more clever
And we are hooked

As long as this addiction exists
Nerds will rule the world

Taking pills
Lot of pills and
Driving hard
Long hours almost every day

To pay for those damn pills
That keep me
Balanced and
Sane

I’ve driven on almost every road
In Cincinnati delivering goods to
Pay for those
Pills

Used to get them shipped from Canada
A few years back
The local Pharmacy wanted $1600 a month
And I gave them the finger

I can bitch and moan about the cost
But they saved my life
They did
And gave me the opportunity

To live a working man’s life
And deliver packages to your door
All because of some chemical
In a pill

Don’t know what I would do without them
Possibly just bum around on the street
Asking for change and
Talking to myself

If society started caring
About the homeless
They would help them out with
A good doctor and a decent job

But they would rather
Buy bombs
And death than give a bum
A chance at a decent life

Which is why there are so many of them
Hanging out on the street
When they could be driving around and
Popping pills

Instead of being flushed down
The drain by people
Who don’t believe
That people can change

A kitten showed up on my porch
Worm infested and
Half starved and
Homeless

I felt as if it was bad karma
To leave him out in the cold
Given that I myself was
Homeless some years earlier

Looking into his eyes
I knew there was this bond between us
So I took him under my wing
Cleaned him up, took him to the vet

And christened him with the name
“Mr Giggles” and gave him a
Place to stay
And we hang out to this day

Two former vagrants
Once cast aside
Yet now living it up
Having the time of our lives

Knowing that we are survivors
Has made life so much sweeter
We savor its juices even better
When we share it together

Every night I swallow a handful of pills
To keep my mind straight
And from thinking
That “they” are out to get me

There are all shapes and sizes inside my
Medicine dish
With strange names that are
Difficult to pronounce

Strange to think that without these
I would end up residing in some
Mental health facility
But instead I am sitting at a coffee shop

Writing about what could have been
If it wasn’t for those damn pills
That I curse yet allow me
To live an almost normal life

They used to throw people like me
In asylums and lock the doors
Some 50 years ago
Strange to think about that now

Instead I live among you “normals”
Writing, reading and even
Working to try to make the world a little better
Despite its many flaws

All because of those pills
That I curse and dread
And yet granted me
A life that I should not have had

Thank you to the readers and fans that help keep me going.  I am indebted to  you for the  letters and gifts that I have received over the years.  I would like to spend a special thank you to a fan who sent me several pottery pieces with my words etched into the pieces. They are absolutely stunning.

Work
Read
Write

Work
Read
Write

Day after day
A routine that helps keep me going
On those days
When you just feel like

Smashing everything
And kicking the teeth out of
That guy sitting next
To you at the bar

Which is why I started this
Poetry Diary
It only takes one bad choice
To destroy your life
Better to write and live free