Blackhumouristpress's Blog

October 9, 2019

Eluding Illusions

Filed under: america,elections,humor,humour,poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 4:17 pm
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Poll tax extortion truth abortion

Everything heard is a distortion.

Syntactical practical magical illusion

Pull the rabbit from the hat but it smells of skunk

 

What you think you thunk after reading

Subjective junk passed off as news of whatever slant of your choosing. Your side is pure, your side righteous while fighting the devious, oblivious, contentious opposition.

 

The latest sham, the latest scam rides the subliminal at a minimal. You think you understand, you think you comprehend. It’s designed to confuse you, program and use you… Thank you for your time… God bless you.

August 3, 2019

New and Improving…

Motorized scooter headed fast towards me, grocery store jousting like Medieval Times towards the fat free, low sodium, stress reducing, diet drink with aspartame.

 

A moment of silence to reflect. A shot of Botox and a pill to get erect. You can wave like the queen on the float, trying to undo all the things you were thinking, last week when you were overdrinking.

 

Don’t let the bumper sticker define you, they might find you at a moment of weakness looking at your shoes giving crumbs to the birds.

 

You wanna know what I believe, what I think, what I’m doing? GPS my thoughts and interrupt it with an ad. “Take two of these with vodka when you get really sad…”

 

I’m virtually happy when I’m mad and smile with a frown with the ear buds in. It appears as though I’m talking to a friend, tread mill walking in lieu of progress until the end. Maybe Nietzsche could teach me, try to reach me and make sense of the modern day.

July 3, 2019

The 4th Of July

 

Nike might be likely to incite thee.

Kaepernick the flag in the nick of time to celebrate independence. Mike Pence, polls twice a day and the electorate is on the fence. Toxic hate of illegal residents and on the other side against the president. I’ll take the fifth on the forth.

 

It’s legal now- take hit. Mellow out- that’s it. Drink, gamble and smoke. Now here’s the real joke- that skunky shit ain’t your granddaddy’s dope. You can deny the gateway as they search for the right way to balance the books and pay for it all. Want a preview? Here’s a clue of what they’d do for you- those that stood for the debate weren’t even second rate in the eyes that watched and glazed over.

 

Meanwhile over at the DMZ, Little Kim for a photo op, hoping a handshake might stop radiation over South Korea and Japan. Sweat trickles down my back, Iranian uranium is back on track. The time draws closer. It’s too hot, it’s too wet and maybe there is a problem at the border. Those poor people drinking water from a commode, while the nation angrily might implode like it did once back with Lincoln. It all just leaves me thinking. There will be a military review that’s not meant for you this 4th of July. A show of strength with troops and tanks like Red Square on May Day… May day… May day. We going down…

June 21, 2019

Game Face

Filed under: divorce,poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 6:27 am
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I got a secret. Maybe you can see it in my eyes

I can’t you let you know there’s nobody on the other side of that wall. Ask me how she is and how’s it going. Can you see it in my eyes that it’s gone? Doing this crazy thing alone. Fool them when they ask. Make them think it’s like it should be. The way it is everywhere they go. Are you alone? What do you mean exactly. Sorry, no not at all. She’s beyond that wall and the kids are upstairs where you remembered them when they were young. How are you? How is it going? I’m not offended even though you don’t care. I look at you and know I can take the pain a lot longer than you. I’m stronger than you and can tighten up in the face of pain knowing that it won’t last forever. Somewhere over there where the sun tries to hide. Never bring down the flag. It’s a matter of pride. “Give my best to the kids and bride…” I’m on the island and I do not see a ship at sea. You’re out there too maybe a bit like me.

April 28, 2019

Hold on…

Filed under: Eisenhower,poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 5:37 am
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Say it out loud the things you think

It’s not what you think. Cache, hidden in the dark room, darling.

We’re dressed to impress. Make them think it’s something special like back in the day when we were going somewhere. Marlon Brando thin in black and white, I wore a tie to see a movie. You were there, did you see me? If I could just go back, I’d find you there. Leave this reality for a touch of nostalgia. Before cellular, Facebook and pictures of your kids. I was free, brown hair, penny loafers, top down rambling down the avenue- old was new. In 1985, I wanted 1955. I liked Ike in the era of Reagan. It was all in front of me back then instead of behind. I stand in front of a weeping window from the rain. I’ve tried hard to find the answers to it all in vain.

January 17, 2019

Absurd

Filed under: america,Ethnicity,fast food,humor,humour,obesity,pope,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 5:40 pm
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Sitting in a fast food palace, wall to wall plastic

Maury giving a bro hug to a man on the tube that is the father of his daughter’s child… Wild? No. In a word-absurd.

 

A man with a blue tooth devise attached to his ear goes table to table selling Krispy Kreme donuts on the side, on the slide, trading a burger for a box of donuts. Nuts? No. In a word-absurd.

 

The people behind the counter move slow… You know the type- Type 2 diabetes, cherub faced sweeties with no neck, nails like claws, sagging draws and lashes long enough to tickle your face. Bad taste? No. In a word- Absurd

 

The heroin addict with the sad look and a sign by the freeway is doing just fine. He pulls out a fat wad of cash, eyes bloodshot from smoking some hash to clear his mind and face the day. A # 2 with a large Coke… Is this all some sort of joke? No. In a word-Absurd.

January 9, 2019

We Interrupt

Filed under: america,donald trump,humor,humour,poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 8:17 pm
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We interrupt The Bachelor, Dancing with the Stars, The Khardasians and those texting in cars to bring you a message from the president… Not my president, there are no illegal residents, a New York precedent… It’s safe there and free, there’s no fee except to those at the tippy top who are moving their dough to the Caribbean, listing their homes and moving to Monte Carlo.

 

Raise your hands to block the kick, prevent the win to build a wall. We care too much for them all and after all, the future hinges on their vote. Please don’t quote me; it’s off the record, anonymous sources from the swamp. We hate Trump… We love Trump either way it’s a ratings boost for cable news and for whatever side you choose. And if you think you’re winning either way you lose.

September 22, 2018

Anything…

Filed under: poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 5:56 pm
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It’s been years since you watched a sunset
And saw the beauty of a day ending.
It’s normal to keep pretending when you make eye contact
In the rear view mirror, that the path and
Direction makes sense

Maybe others see what’s going on
And they’re at peace when they sleep
They ask you what do you want and what do
You want to be?  Where will you go?

Maybe there’s no truth
Maybe there’s no proof
Counting grains of sand for eternity
Treading water in a sea of futility
Consciously deciding things unconsciously.
What does it mean?  That maybe everything is nothing.

May 11, 2018

Forward

Filed under: poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 2:32 pm
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He wakes and sees himself in the mirror, squints like Clint
“I’m the boy I’ve always been… am I too old? I still feel young.”
Life’s a curious thing, miles of road in the rear view mirror and a
dead end up ahead.  It’s not what you heard or what I said. You’ll
soon forget the lunch bags and red roses. The mundane day-to-day
measured in minutes He kissed her lips on a sunny day drove the baby
to where she had to go.  Just trying to get it right.  He wakes when
they’re sleeping, says nothing.  I’m not leaving; it’s just a walk and
a quiet talk to the relatives gone before him letting them know others
are coming.  Fading, fading into a deeper fog of a mind stuck on
reset.  Life’s cruelty is to forget and lose comprehension of where,
what and why.   Life’s a struggle; life is tough but better than the
man with the cup by the freeway.  He’s lived a bunch of years, does he
get more? He thinks the deepest thing might be love.   Memories of
homes and hearts searching for the light switch in the dark.  It’s
there.  You will find it.

September 14, 2016

Nietzsche Beside Me

Filed under: poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 6:09 am
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The seconds tick matched up against my heart. Driving past the point where it starts. It feels like a hundred degrees, sweat drips down my back as I try to breathe, try to remember all the other Septembers. There’s a home in my heart from way back when I was given speed to help me slow down to think. The head gets weak and then the heart speaks. I went back to find them all knowing they’re gone. Perhaps the things I inherited are no longer suitable, no longer practical. I tried to slay the windmills from across the land from my head to my heart. I may never get tired of living, sharing a smile, a laugh captured in a moment. Life is a scent that won’t ever let you down. I want to steal back the things I thought would always be mine captured in the resin of time. Autumn comes in waves of warmth and cold. The warm sun and a cold breeze I remember this all of my life and can close my eyes and nothing changes. There is something there between the things I love and despair. Happiness and sadness as old friends on a park bench as they hold hands in a quest to understand why we exist. Maybe everything is nothing.

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