progress?

The moving, brooding machine of progress
it churns out ideas and processes
crushing opposition, cementing over the past.

The future is progress
but what is the progress?
What can you do better?
Faster? Stronger?

We are no longer a race of people
but automated robotic machines
Ones whose sole goal is to finish the objection
know how to limit interaction
to a nod or a wave.

We are each alone
Alone now more than we ever were.
Our material things will only comfort us
because our real lives cannot.

I am more than the sum of my parts.
I will not be harvested for them
like some junkyard car.
I am more than the sum of my parts.

I will not be happy today

I will not be happy today, no.
I appreciate the nice things you say and you will say them, I'm sure,
but I don't want to hear them.
I will not be happy today.
I need to feel and angst and moan and gripe and complain
I need to mope for a while
so let me spend the time doing so.
I will not be happy today
so don't try to stop me
let me brood and mood
in peace.

nyc

you are alive
your lungs cough from the black smoke
of nearby commercialism.
your eyes
awake in the lights that light up the night.
your heart
beating, moving, people everywhere
pumping life into a city
a city that does sleep
but only on the odd hours.

silence

you are not lying
but you aren't telling the truth either.
must I fall? spilling the pieces inside of me
as Black Friday shoppers rush to pick them up.
I want to tell them
they are only buttons, noise makers, candy,
scraps of ideas, long treasured dreams
and maybe some pocket lint.
they shouldn't waste their time
they'll soon grow tired.
you won't speak
I won't speak
the world won't speak
and I will fall apart
until I have nothing left.

go back to sleep.

early morning dust
awakens my senses
dull reminders and remanants
of dreams
ideas forgotten.
go back to sleep.

"we"

we walked in long dresses, with blue ribbons on our backs
painted with gold and sewn together with good intentions.
we faced the cold
either we refused to face it
or we pretended it wasn't there
but it was.
our future was endless,
we wrote our poems on backs of old essay questions
we did what we wanted, raised a fire next door
our lives meaningless in context.
our love was riddled with inconsistency
ever-changing ever-yearning ever everything.
we were young once
we were simple once
we were ourselves once.

i

i never want you to know what i know
because what i know is nothing you should know
and everything that i should.
i never want you to feel the way i feel sometimes
knowing things i know
but knowing these things i know
is not always why i feel the way i feel
sometimes i never feel at all.
i never want you to see yourself the way i do
because i do see you
knowing the things i know
and well, i see you the way i do
and you don't feel
but sometimes i never feel at all.
i never want you to believe what you believe
because i see you the way i do
and i know these things i know
and i know you will believe what you believe
know what you think you know
feel what you think you feel
see yourself how you think you are

but it's all horseshit.