To Survive

For Birth,
In order to go forward,
You must breath,

For children,
In order to go forward,
You must listen to your elders,

For teenagers,
In order to go forward,
You must speed ahead,

For adults
In order to go forward,
You must look both ways,

For Grandparents,
In order to go forward,
You must look to the past,

For your Death,
In order to go forward,
Put your mind at ease.

Virus

To dabble or dawdle,
In our interest only to stumble,
Exponentially Distracted,
By these tiny screens,

Catchy words like,
News Flash,
Scoring Updates,
sort out our attention,

We understand layout,
but,
Our Vocal cues are rusting,
like roman numerals,

These Instantaneous Answers,
Dull the euphoric discoveries,
hard fought,
through a conversational debate,

What a *humanic demise
of our droned existence,

Our only cure,
Is to become a virus,

Like the common cold,
it gets stronger with experience,
yet once a puzzles expound,
the market loses its balance,

This Tangible experience,
only found on the trail,,
is awaiting your last breath,
don't waste the trick,


* Humanic - A human being who acts like a robot.

The Monopoly from Main Street

Cheaply mick cheap,
he runs the show,
cutting costs,
to ensure a cash flow,

His customers love him,
His prices unmatched,
however the level of service,
is a little lax,

His competitors hate him,
and lay off their workers,
doing twice the job,
with half the labor,

His distributors despise him,
the prices were set,
yet discounts requested,
 at a moment of unrest

what an ungrateful pest,

For years now Cheaply played the system,
turning his small store,
Into a global empire,

The residual effect,
was a competitive shutdown,
and his prices rose,
and service was still woeful,

Monopoly!
Monopoly!
The public shouted,
Never again will Cheaply be touted,

Re branding his stores Cheaply expanded,
Pricey mick Pricerson to the upper class,
hire some people but show a hint of class,

Workload Mick Workman for the middle class,
Configuring his prices,still thieving his customers,
to keep them in  their financial bracket,

But deep within
the city ghettos,
Cheaply mick cheap still thrives,
cuz rip offs are sound business,

don't expect any less.

Phases of Idiocy

If you talk like a child,
Your an idiot,

If you talk like a parent,
Your a condescending idiot,

If you talk like a professional,
Your likely dealing with idiots.

If you talk like a friend,
You have the freedom to act like an idiot.

Proposal

Rose peddles,

    fall at Laurens feet,

  as she picks them,

one 

    by 

      one,

It never occurred to her,

   how odd it was,

      to calculate her,

                     girlish fantasies,

            until now,

this practice didn't seem 

       so odd,

              long ago,

when life was simple,

           no tough decisions,

     boys called her name,

without digression,

but with a couple of years,

under her belt,

Lauren finally realized that these decisions,

           have consequences,

As a result,

         Laurens life has changed,

sometimes

        for better,

sometimes

        for worse,

but she never truly took 

    these moment seriously,

transfixed,

            a man down upon his knee,

gleaming at a diamond ring,

Laurens vocal chords 

           

            choked up,

dead air passes between her lips,

              as words fail her,

Burying her hand in her face,

             Lauren hides her emotions,

 

blushing,

               crying,

thoughts races through,

        her benevolent mind,

to be,

or not to be,

a Shakespearean expression,

                 how to respond,

to an empirical question,

This man,

        speaks words,

unheard,

   A scene played out,

          on a muted screen,

He’s nervous,

          but unyielding,

          A response demands,

in this limited time,

Rationalization his factors,

                      to the finish line,

       he's smart,

    funny,

               makes lots of money,

and most importantly cares for me 

                      and my family,

But he,

       smokes and drinks,

  easily loses his temper,

               leaves town daily 

                      business or pleasure,

UN-customizable traits,

             There’s no package deal,

 

Unaware the room has gone silent,

    every eye stares at Laurens decision,

Ashamed and confused,

               she runs from the room,

        there's screaming there's pleading,

But

the rose must knew,

Lauren ran forever,

           now befuddled,

        in a field,

she carefully chooses,

            a rose that will decide,

          even or odd,

that is the question,

            marriage to a man,

       with questionable affection.

The Dinner

Stan,
he's a man,
who likes to complain,

on the phone,
face to face,
it doesn't matter,

the type of guy,
you feel sorry for,
after you spit in his food,
because he's alone in a booth,

absent are his friends,
family,

his cell phone sits,
idly,

a paper weight,
on a stack of napkins,

It only rings,
when debt collectors,
seek payments,
from a previous life,

he was married,
and happy back then,

vibrating softly,
straight to voice mail,

Now divorced and unemployed,
his eyes linger,
At pointless game,
played on a TV far away,

Stan's team never wins,
on any day,

Alas,

not everything is so bad for Stan,
as he sits ready to begin,
an endless rib challenge,

The waiter arrives,
late as usual,
Stan frowns and pouts,
demanding a sequel,

The waiter scurries away,
like a cockroach in bright lights,
leaving Stan alone,
with his though and his might,

Stan glances at his dish
and upon further observation,
the ribs are too dry,
the sauce is so sparse,

and what is this?

a hair,
Stan just stairs,
raising his hand,

as a child across the way,
points,
and laughs,

Stan takes notice,

A bully in disguise,
with parents
              no less,

Stan drops his fork,

                      what a clatter,

His face turns red,
sticking out his tough,
the child returns the favor,
no more no less,

Stan stands now,
and shouts to address,

A hair!
how dare you!
sell me this plate
with a hair!

holding it up,
for all to see,
Stan eats to whole,
for all to see,

the child barfs,
upon the showing,
the manager came,
to whisking Stan away,

the customers were groaning,
jeering at the site,

But there Stan sat,
in a fresh seat,
service with a smile,
stuffed and beat,

But off in the distance,
Stan notices something he has long forgot,

a girl sitting alone,
shedding tears,
upon the new jersey turnpike,

unable to control himself
Stan shouts again,

you there,
girl,
why do you cry,
your worries away,
come have a seat,
it'll be my treat,

she turns,
and smiles,

i would,
but i lost my job,
for there was this giant douche,
who ate my hair,