If we are to be a truly evolved race we must put away violent things
Before we destroy ourselves through the terrible methods
Our great human minds have concocted
To make widows of wives and leave children motherless
Devices to kill and maim in the most grotesque and effective manner
Inventor minds diverted from where they could do some true good
In the aid and betterment of mankind not in its oppression and demise
Be gone these violent things, these violent ways
And let our humanity shine right -until every man and woman is free
Until every child can live without these nightmares
And take us all to a glorious, unified ascension
God’s Bee
Spidery motions
Twisting and yellow
At the ground beneath my feet
A bumble bee writhes
To make escape from its dewy predicament
With a sinister grin
I step down hard my bare foot
Upon its struggle
Dying with a pointed sting to my calloused heel
God is stepping on us all
But does He feel any pain?
Not even the bumble bees can answer
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Hot outside, cold down here, where I write, where I write my words, words and nonsense, nonsense and words, nonwords, wordsense, I write purely for profit, purely for the profit of my limbic system a thing they sometimes confuse for the soul, I write for the profit of one or two good eyes to chuckle once or twice from what the see, I profit from making someone think once, I profit from giving someone an idea if only briefly and if only for the etch a sketch, I profit from disturbing the uninitiated.
I forget my age when I write, I forget Im a man, I forget Im a human, I am just a device that batters together strange symbols that someone told me is a word, a sentence, a paragraph.
I don't care for rules or oppression, I don't care for the unscrupulous that flock about me or for the places they eat and swim.
I am just another thing this universe shat out as it did all things and one day it will swallow me back up as it does all things and when this happens I will again be gone.
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Scott C. Dragoo
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