generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them
Copyright © Green Trees | Year Posted 2012
When you’re born into this world of ours.
You have no idea if you’ll reach its ivory towers.
If you’re lucky to be born into a house of wealth.
Chances are, you’ll go far, have money for yourself.
And even if you aren’t a stiff, who got a lucky draw.
You can still makes millions, as we certainly have saw.
So what exactly is the definition of a successful life?
Money, fame, success, children and a loving wife?
My point of view is one that’s true, what my father told me.
Son, peace of mind, if you can find, you’ll never end up lonely.
I heard the words, not one absurd, but somehow didn’t listen.
For I’m 61, my life’s not fun, not an enviable position.
How I got here, perhaps that’s the question on your mind.
It would take a book to explain, how I came into this bind.
I’ll give you the short of it, I made some bad decisions.
And now it seems that I’m living in the Spanish Inquistion.
But you’re not dead you say, there’s more life has to give.
I agree and want to be out of this insane prison and to live.
Want to enjoy, to employ, the gifts and all the wonder.
And not be attacked, from the back and live a life asunder.
At 61, your life’s not done, you could have died at twenty.
You’ve had many years upon this earth, enjoyed it aplenty.
But if you’re broke, your fire’s unstoke, not a life of envy.
You ask yourself day and night, what will be my end be?
If I had fifty thousand dollars at this point in my life.
I’d create a machine, that would put away all my strife.
So if I can sell this house I own for more than what I bought her
I’ll take the profit, if I can, if I’m not underwater.
And with that money, this ain’t funny, I’ll make a whole lot more.
For I have ideas in my head that will even up the score.
It’s sad, it’s true what I must do, and list this property.
And chances are, I’ll go far, live life properly.
Copyright © Guy Chaifetz | Year Posted 2013
When I think of all I've done
Plans that kept me on the run
I kind of wonder every day
How I pissed my time away
In my thirties there was cash
Not one buck saved
Not one buck stashed
Sure I thought I could reach fame
From art or science
What a shame
For these goals I truly went
And never saved a single cent
So now it's rough
Though I'm not broke
Just don't live like other folk
My neighbors run out nights for eats
Can't afford such costly treats
When Winter comes they go away
I freeze my rear
I'm forced to stay
Yet I feel the need to try
To make some mark before I die
For in truth these other folk
Live a life that's just a joke
The men dried up some years ago
Their wives plan daily where to go
Their brains are focused on the past
No way to know how long they'll last
So my future's not to dread
Even now I'll move ahead
Copyright © Gary Kraidman | Year Posted 2013
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
All results of
Copyright © Laura Hamilton | Year Posted 2013
P aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
Farewell, then, AUKN boss,
The next this year makes three.
By the time they find a substitute,
Slovenes will be at sea.
He tried to cover his behind;
AUKN boss of bosses,
As every week, balances grew bleak:
He weighed merits and losses.
With all this he'd no time to eat,
And round and round he flew.
And now he's split in a hissy-fit;
So helmsman, too-de-loo!
Day after day, day after day,
He drifted on the ocean;
Guano-vernment rained on his ship
Their suggestions for promotion.
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Corporate boards crosslink;
Cousins, cousins, everywhere,
Let's take you for a drink.
Accountants talking rot: O Christ!
Missions, visions - oh please!
Yea, slimy characters need legs
And slimy policies.
So has he done an hellish thing?
Not hired who? We dunno:
Was it absurd, to have a separate curd
From the whey Slovenia owes?
This wretch won't play, after 60 days;
Pissflaps, he'll have to go!
God help ya, gospod Bencina
From the fiends, that plague us thus! -
It's time to go — shot like cross-bow,
The AUKN boss.
Ah! walk-out day! what evil looks
Had I from Ernst and Young!
Who's at a loss? AUKN's boss
Wouldn't take a bung?
"You'll be" quoth one, "abolished - no
Stigma to double-cross."
He chose to go - why? We don't know:
Harmless AUKN boss.
Re-reading the original gave me a great idea for dinner until I realised all the storks have all flapped off to Africa for the winter. Pity, as I have some ancient marinade from Tuš. Like the subject of the poem, I didn't have the stamina for a Coleridge-length effort.
The National Poet Of Slovenia In A Language People Understand interprets important Slovenian affairs for the non-Slovene speaking world. www.maria.si
Copyright © Julian Bohan | Year Posted 2013
Oh, what am I going to do, today?
I've got so much time on my hands that I
Will simply go mad if I don't find a way
To fill it all up with some stuff to get by.
I try to stay busy with this and with that
And sometimes it works but at others falls flat
I think at such length that my head starts to hurt
And then I relax with a cup of yogurt.
I once had a job where they worked me to death
I grunted and groaned 'til I gave my last breath
The medics restarted my heart with a jolt
I thanked them, then, wisely, decided to bolt.
I could someday make a good living at rhymes
But all I might do is to fall on hard times
I'm cracking my skull like a ripe coconut
To pull myself up and well out of this rut.
A jack of all trades but sad master of none
Among all that's not new now under the sun
I can't just go out there and find a nice niche
It makes me so crazy I want to yell, "SHEESH!"
Copyright © Roderick Molasar | Year Posted 2015