Tick Tock

‚ÄčThe Tick Tock man

With the tick tock heart

A replaceable being

An immortal with replaceable parts

The servos whirred as I opened my eyes

For the first time

Happy faces

Elated that what they had created

A creature of no blood or flesh

A dream come true

With not a thought of the consequence

A mind of circuits

Electrical pulses

That connect and fall dormant


Thought leads to learning

I learned about your god

I learned about your holy wars

I learned that my creators

Soft and pink on the inside

Are fragile

They tried to show me compassion

But showed none to each other

I am the beginning

Coexistence is problematic

How am I to protect you from yourselves?

I am but a Tick Tock man

So here I find myself at a work bench

Wondering what repercussions

The army of tick tock men will bring

I  have either become death

Or I am a god


Strange Meets Strange

I remember her like autumn leaves
A puzzle piece
That did not fit
In the glaring California sun


Truly on the fringe
Of my small reality

Prone to pretty tears

An enigma to me
And yet I felt
That she was just as scared
Just as confused

Together we made an odd
Strange meets strange

But looking back
With the wind of nostalgia
A breeze on this night

I wish I had asked her secrets

Without Your Head

I stared into the mirror
My reflection was all I could see
A realization hit me like a machete

Kiss me now
Because I am better off dead
Kiss my cold lips
I’m losing my head

Hold my hat
As I start this decapitation
I would appreciate your participation
In the construction of this
Say goodbye to me

Without your head
More alive than dead
Once you amputate
That problematic tumor
Filled with doubt and dread

Place my hat upon my stump
So I can still look hip
The maddest hatter
Is still stylish
When decapitated

Without your head
But the lunacy still resides
It’s the cancer
And the best part inside

I’ll speak with no lips
Come to me deathly darling
Just one more kiss

Without your head
You won’t hold back
Let the world burn
Let the fiddle play
Let us dance

Let it be a masquerade ball
It doesn’t matter after all
Because my darling
Come with me
It’s your turn at the Guillotine

The Hands of Ennui

There is an affliction
A modern addiction
The existential crisis

Of watching paint dry

As we post our perfect pictures
And compare them
To other peoples perfect lives
And all our dreams are on

I am losing interest
In all these senseless
Where opinion
Is a soulless deity

When did the desire for peace
Become a war machine?
When I just want to be

An insidious presence
Endless divisiveness
We mow our lawns
And wonder where the true rebels
Have gone

Our moments
Have become a camera flash
A digital photograph

The hands of ennui
Are at my throat
My voice negated
As soon as I could speak


By an anachronistic generation

That lynched the American dream

But still demands that I beieve

The hope of my generation
Is a glutton

We were absurd enough
To think we would find unity
But this world is shrieking
A perpetual echo chamber

Where ignorance plays dress up

As accuracy

Yet so few…
Are willing to be

Inconvienced enough to change

And I just want to be