Stuffing Dance (day 2903)

I’m getting tired of this dance
Stuffing our faces
With experiences
We dont know if we enjoy.
Who designed our minds?
Who gave us this style inprint
That requires consistent change?
Updating, renewing, regulating…
There is no end game
It’s just a consume point,
Many consume points
That filter me
Based on my character profile
That I work hard at eliminating
Because I’m a stereotype
Who doesn’t like being stereotyped.
I’m entitled to use my words
More than I use my action,
And I take pains to twist words
To judge others
Before I myself
Be my harshest critics.
Lost on a translation
Misunderstanding,
This changing time…
Imagining a different world
We hope to be in
But refusing to acknowledge
The disconnect
With a path that is too far gone.

Yellow (day 1570)

Shake your hands little man
Rumble rumble rumble.
Shock proof and submerged
I’ve become a yellow alien
Lost in a foreign land.

Shake it in a glass pint of feel good yellow
Until it hurts so hard nutshell
There begins quite a rumble.
Put your guns outside now,
The blood is run down.

Bitter is the agent of change;
A sour heart upon edges of my spine.
My yellow in the midst of your confusion.
An iron, coyly, in a state of disconnect
And my flattening ceases, rumble rumble.

I hope you found the keys –
Open sitting etched wooden door.
Explanations come out
Flight from a thousand monarch butterflies
In a thousand shades of yellow.