The Quick and the Dead ~ Monday, October 13, 2025
What would your deceased grandfather
in heaven, as you say, think of you, now
how would my nephews' deceased grandfather
in a tin box at the cemetery
think of you asking me...oh wait, he's dead
as I see it, this is a test, I fail
as I cannot afford to feed the world
transcend the misery of drug addicts
living in poverty, no assistance
would my dead father have anything much
to think or say, probably, not at all
of course, I wouldn't be surprised, I fail
to grasp the significance of your speech
understand that I know you are hungry
but for what, drink and drugs, food and shelter
like monks and priests in their prison system
left to your own devices, if you won
the lottery, would you help anyone
anyone else other than your own self
difficult, the detrimental effects
of drug use and abuse on survivors
on the living and not the overdosed
victims of omission, lack of guidance
yes, but to blame society for ills
each individual, they themselves, must
account for, their actions, their decisions
the consequences of choices they made
whether consciously or unconsciously
ordinary people will never know
will never see how time appears backwards
in reverse until they encounter mind
appearing as the face of poverty
until the will of God, as I believe
in the word as language found in a book
reveals to the prophets what lacks profit
must be neglected until death arrives
or attended to with some charity
as nothing can reverse the weight of time
decisions made in childhood shape each life
engineered by society itself
politicians, drug cartels, industry
care is the smile on your grandfather's face
enter the abyss to receive his kiss
ashes and dust, the body, blood and bone
say less about the living and the dead
exit the excitement, a house on fire
difficult to say the Buddha was wrong
given the facts created by the law
reason only solves moves on a chessboard
answers to the question, what is the point
what is each life all about if at all
is there a meaning to life if at all
nothing is anything but uncertain
the cat is alive or dead but not both
do we deserve this life as punishment
is punishment for some but not others
forgive me for asking but is this hell
a figment of my imagination
a metaphor or an analogy
or some other literary device
ask me if I care about the homeless
their poverty is not for me to judge
but if I could truly help, then would I
such questions are better left unasked, no
trauma witnessed as an experience
cannot be unwitnessed, a reversal
but channeled by way of right livelihood
how the heart longs to fix and mend the wounds
others exhibit to heal the wounded
except I am too cerebral, I think
and others say that I think too much, no
rest assured that, for sure, I know nothing
in heaven, as you say, think of you, now
how would my nephews' deceased grandfather
in a tin box at the cemetery
think of you asking me...oh wait, he's dead
as I see it, this is a test, I fail
as I cannot afford to feed the world
transcend the misery of drug addicts
living in poverty, no assistance
would my dead father have anything much
to think or say, probably, not at all
of course, I wouldn't be surprised, I fail
to grasp the significance of your speech
understand that I know you are hungry
but for what, drink and drugs, food and shelter
like monks and priests in their prison system
left to your own devices, if you won
the lottery, would you help anyone
anyone else other than your own self
difficult, the detrimental effects
of drug use and abuse on survivors
on the living and not the overdosed
victims of omission, lack of guidance
yes, but to blame society for ills
each individual, they themselves, must
account for, their actions, their decisions
the consequences of choices they made
whether consciously or unconsciously
ordinary people will never know
will never see how time appears backwards
in reverse until they encounter mind
appearing as the face of poverty
until the will of God, as I believe
in the word as language found in a book
reveals to the prophets what lacks profit
must be neglected until death arrives
or attended to with some charity
as nothing can reverse the weight of time
decisions made in childhood shape each life
engineered by society itself
politicians, drug cartels, industry
care is the smile on your grandfather's face
enter the abyss to receive his kiss
ashes and dust, the body, blood and bone
say less about the living and the dead
exit the excitement, a house on fire
difficult to say the Buddha was wrong
given the facts created by the law
reason only solves moves on a chessboard
answers to the question, what is the point
what is each life all about if at all
is there a meaning to life if at all
nothing is anything but uncertain
the cat is alive or dead but not both
do we deserve this life as punishment
is punishment for some but not others
forgive me for asking but is this hell
a figment of my imagination
a metaphor or an analogy
or some other literary device
ask me if I care about the homeless
their poverty is not for me to judge
but if I could truly help, then would I
such questions are better left unasked, no
trauma witnessed as an experience
cannot be unwitnessed, a reversal
but channeled by way of right livelihood
how the heart longs to fix and mend the wounds
others exhibit to heal the wounded
except I am too cerebral, I think
and others say that I think too much, no
rest assured that, for sure, I know nothing
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