The Year of Real

 

for Kris

During this New Year, we will still be

governed by the soulless

~

flow of cash.  It’s the year where making

a killing translates solely to murder.  We

~

fill ourselves up with necessary

delusions blinding ourselves

~

to the shackles we all bear.  You can never be

~

in power when you are in debt

to an idea of worth that is worthlessly ascribed

~

by some ideology you never bothered

to learn.  This is the year when we begin

~

to realize free-will does not

include the pursuit of money.  It never can

~

be the Creator of happiness.  Rationality belongs to

the cool observer, but the will of man cannot be

~

to follow not reason but naïve faith

which requires not reality but illusion.

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The Newness of This Old Thing

 

Here’s that so-called tablua rasa

you’re looking for—wipe it clean of all

 ~

malicious verbiage.  The sinful

syntax gets erased.  Night— that mildly

~

disappointing lady—is now just star

lit sky with maybe the sound of waves

~

lapping.  The farther away from

the neon and noise of city bustle

the more painted the sky

~

does become.  Strange how the city seems

to make a palimpsest of constellations,

but you know Ursa Major always has the better

~

part of the Big Dipper even if you are

blinded to the artistry.