A terabyte of space could still not replace

The live moments we share here now

Red, green, the meeting place

White, left, right

We belong in the middle, four directions

One culture of ours, sharing and caring

No more delusional smiles

Heartbeat decisions

Money grabbed me way too long ago

Now it’s green and red, bloodshed

Stocks attacking feelings, value in math

How many fish and animals left?

Is this right?

Made in China

to think of books and articles and poems to say

an arctic heart that craves a tanning bed, a train that cries solar

medicine without the mind, just getting by

addicted to being an addict, thoughts cluttered in the attic

ideas are the spirit, language of magic

spell check and auto tune, the attitude of plastic perfection

attack ads to energize elections, deceptions

It’s so hard to have text everyday, every way being cool and fresh

But look around and the stories fall one by one, a bedroom mess

Your lost phone, misplaced mind

Hard to give, hard to find

I’m rendering as days get lost like drunk speed of night lights

even when it’s dark, it’s bright but we might not give sight

I closed my eyes and entered somewhere new

A place that only I can go, and never you

I want to share

I open them and return, you are still there

soon it became weeks, months, memories

as i glanced back in the glass, stories gathered

the piano silent, dust collected

trading whiskey for hand drums

concrete life could not produce such home recordings

blocked from the thought, the innocence

it’s just words, not real, improv 

published souls and taxed time

the breaks we take within the moves we make

You stay distracted while we claim the land and sell it

We listen to your cell phone calls, we monitor your networks

A mind of your own is a stranger and unwelcome in this home

The media trained us and we will train you to build these tracks

Do the jobs that help clean us out of resources

Survival has taken on too many moments and meanings

We are a species of quantity and qualify for prizes

Your burning cigarettes and bottled water are of great programming

Allow our health care to scare you to death

Beep beep, the sound of finished french fries

Waiting in line for a computerized scale checkout monitored by cameras

Machines made by machines, food processed into machines

Allow your ATM to determine what you can and cannot eat

Allow your trending skills to allow you a life of more

Sit on your cow and watch the brand new television shows in HD,

enjoy your youtube and chat rooms

Now that’s a good robot

A competitive edge with a heart that is mean

Being adults but still a mind of a teen

The obsession with winning and a record that is clean

It’s ironic to fight the same member on a team

To think harmonizing might feel like a dream

But we all live together on this earth so it seems

A mission of one to make us all free

But still I ask up all the time

Why would someone work with envy?

Where could jealousy exist in family?

A defensive offense

Perhaps a different goalie to score on

An ego bound by points, a certificate

A bird who swims in the ocean

Lives in a condo and reads the morning paper

A fish who orders sushi and a glass of water

Teamwork is in the team

Not everything is equal and a good team understands the role

The goal is in the creation, not the individual

Allow your team to be bigger than anything you can be

It’s a saddening of distance that I find hard to relate

Even a telephone does not feel right

I would never want our love to end up on Sykpe

Please respect these words that I type are alone

I can always find your love and spirit as a home

It’s just unreal to use technology

But I appreciate your efforts to acknowledge me

I want you to know that I think of you

Even though I refuse the paper too

My love is sent out to you everyday

It’s who I am in every way

The truth that knows is the feel of the spirit

You wont get to see it or even get to hear it

I pray for your smiles and I pray for your health

Everyday is a gift and your love is my help

It’s all about the real and the feel of the present

This distant apart is a spiritual lesson

It spoke of our spirit messenger

It warmed of the salmon song

That could be your message that crumbled from the tree

Your prayers that starved from the lack of vitamins

These feathers are contaminated

They have become slippery and discoloured

The spirits feel a quiet breeze soaring in its stroke

The smudging stops when the eagle starves

No longer is this a gift but a memory or artifact

Where is your mother earth grammy, an environmental surprise?

When 90 percent of these fish are gone from one a millennium ago

What are we to think about the wilderness?

Landfill bank account?

Rendering in silence.

“Kill baby kill” I hear chanting from afar.

I hear water on fire.

I finally recognize the spirits.

They are practically yelling at us.

“We are the land”

running away from these billboards and blinking bulbs

running away from my family and loved ones

running deep into the depths of the greens and browns

looking for real life, the life that survives from wit and strength

the life that moves with endurance, the life that feeds off water and light

no more shopping cart hunt, no more sale race and snail pace

im running away from a pay cheque, im running from the garbage can

im running away from the mirror but closer to the waters reflection

im running off cheese and soda, im working my body like a glass of yoga

im running off my thoughts and im running off worries

im running off the reason why im in such a hurry

To be is an exiting idea that seeks permission

The random drugs or pollution is from the letter ‘B”

A reaction and an action of not being or being too much

Why is my be your see?

But how come the lack of it makes you sad?

Why the fit?

There is a lack of love in poverty

Love is not a struggle

How come the money is what makes you smile?

How come the money justifies indulgence, pleasure, and birth?

How come the loss of equity makes you loose your mind?

Why is it that being generous always made my father happy?

How come my mom was never pleased?

Why did we work so hard for this anti-love?

Perhaps these words are wrong

Money is my love, money gives and takes my love

Money is not the only thing that buys my love, but it sure does