m x memory ending

m by memory -xi (fin)

Yes, being WIRED had coalesced cultures all across the earth, simply the most powerful force in the paradigm shift. What normally took the flash of a couple hundred years in the pan, took only a hundred plus, facilitated by the mighty conveyance of internet connection. Many subcultures rebelled against the seated powers once they became aware (almost instantaneously for common citizens, dependent only on the functionality of a modem in an electric grid) of the relative freedoms other cultures and countries had which they had not and wanted. They got restless under the thumbs of a ruling class they had limited stake in appointing. None of these performances on the dramatic stage of sentient theatre had the innocence of virgin material, there would be no immaculate conception by so and so producer, writer, director, star, or egocentric asshole. There would be no trailblazing invention at all. It became clear that you go with what you have, your essential ingredients, and make something more of it. Make a clearing and let it grow. Any farmer could rule the day. Meanwhile the old controllers and their desperate need for control would be stripped to the wire,  primitive and unworthy looking, and frayed. Easily spotted for removal by the arbitrators of theatre in whatever form they chose to express: tv, movie, made for tv movie, short in some indy festival, drawing on some ipad, page in some kid’s sketchpad. It didn’t matter! Just as the tarnishing of heart and soul, in a rusty mechanical sort of perfectionism, could be caught on an intellectual hook and pulled up and out of the path of vital life,  so could the real, unblemished heart and soul of common decency be ever sparkling for us to see and believe. And so we would have cause to celebrate again. Love was out in the open. Then back to work again.

controlled

damn the darn thing
went the wrong way
again

no no no
you know not there
where to go

damn dog owners
put it on a leash
i am judging you all
until my friends commit
reality on me

oh but you’re not like them
do not be mistaken
do not
do

what i say

damn my mind
in wanting meditation
thoughts you go
you go
where i think you thoughs
should

damn there’s something wrong
with me
my head exploding need
acetominophen
quick release
quickly

tabbing scrolling
edging up to the table
throw my arms around
air

grasping for the controls
with mad future
mindedness

my blind spot is the whole world
telling me how small
i am

not in control of
nothing not even this
damn poem spilled out
upon this pixelated canvas

sailing away
my sanity
step on me now
ima diluted relic

sell me on the broadband
market cause after years of holding on
i make a fine
exploitation

faith

all i wanted was nothing i needed
when wanting
my need
superceded

i was told life is work
i was taught to work hard

i never knew faith

i thought
to control

even the sun
had to learn
without spin
the earth burn

even the sun
cannot control
all it made
all it touched
verdant spring
so inspired

even the sun
needs some faith
every night
to surrender
every night
we remember

every life
owes a debt
toward the sun

every morning
when the light comes
every life
looks up

to credit
the sun
its creation

far away
from me now

may my blood
sweat and tears
be the same
so my needs
my want
supercedes

without it
the darkness
eternally
leads