You Just Got Sold

Sing to the tune of J Giles Band – Angel is a Centerfold (for all you 80s friends out there you know it) but it works as a nice stand alone poem too – I’m an anti Facebook person and now Instagram blew it too -selling out to Facebook! Enjoy!

Facebook Friends You Got Sold

Perhaps you’re wondering why you rarely see my updates anymore,

But here’s an update, a flash bulletin:  Facebook’s a pimp and you’re their whore.

Flaunting your data in dark corporate corners around the united interweb

Selling everything once held private to everyone who’s interested.

My updates old

My memories are just like Gold

Facebook friends – you just got sold!

Facebook friends – you just got sold!

Facebook tells you when I’m sleeping and somehow, when I’m not

If I’m too tired to pen an update, some think, “what a snot!”

Friends might sigh and ask themselves, “she’s always been so hautey!”  

When honestly, I seriously was just reading in the potty.

My updates old

My memories are just like Gold

Facebook friends – you just got sold!

Facebook friends – you just got sold

Neither could I care if your kid went poop or took a nap,

Furthermore, why should I care when you think you might have yourself a gap.

To use Facebook as a forum for announcing births or deaths and such

It’s something I cannot handle, using Facebook too, too much.

My updates old

My memories are just like Gold

Facebook friends – you just got sold!

Facebook friends – you just got sold

So if you want to reach me mail a letter, text or voice upon your phone

And if conventional’s inconvenient, do a fly by via drone.

I’m just  a shout, an SMS, an email from being in your life.

However, don’t expect Facebook to tell me about your lovely wife.

I’m sorry if I have offended anyone inadvertent if your needs,

But I’m not Facebook’s bitch to slap around for corporate greed.

When I got engaged I thought a moment to send something you would have “liked.”

Ill considered when you think about how my spam box would have spiked.

My updates old

My memories are just like Gold

Facebook friends – you just got sold!

Facebook friends – you just got sold

Ha ha ha ha ha ha hahaha haha ha hahaha!

De Novo Soldier

My ugly secrets hide beneath my thin skin.
Infinitely fighting in my lonely final tour,
Not making the cut for
A battalion of beautiful survivors who stared directly into the eyes of the freshly dead.
Limping home and stitched together, held upright on a single crutch.
Marching in the endless parade
They inch away for you see how far things have come,
bathed in the glow of pink light.
Open their uniforms –
Discover traces of ink from the triage tents
Their tattoos from strange archipelago parlors.
Arriving home one by one
home to their places as plumed birds in cages.
You tie ribbons around trees,
draw a pretty pictures of pity,
Run tearfully from the doorstep leaving offerings of happiness,
Quickly cobbled with gum and string,
with a note to “just keep the dish.”

Yet in the dense tropical foliage,
no one saw the soldiers hiding in my trenches.
With unsteady eyes I scan the papers for new strategic positions,
After training to uncover sleeper cells of suicide bombers.
I want to wear my cancer on my head like a turban, on my chest like scars,
My arms decorated by kisses of needles in iris colored bruises,
In the cover of an empresses’ new clothes embroidered with test results and dyed in thin blood.
I’m too ugly for a bouquet of flowers that I’m too pretty to receive.
Instead, you see all this so called beauty upon which you judge me:
Looking too good for you to see through to my truth.
My lies hide inside tunnels, only discovered by lighting them up with my beautiful bones.
Your eyes downcast rolling inside your shaking head in disbelief.
To you I’m just another junkie begging for a day without rain, without a pill to
Ease my pain, find me anonymously sweating in a red curtained opium den.

I am the Marine who comes home in a body bag without any glory, no pink procession, no honorable discharge.
You turn and march away, goose-stepping in formation waving goodbye to a familiar face in the crowd.
I bravely smile at you, while my raving mind searches for the stolen words I can’t find anymore.
You look down at me through a rifle’s sight, I find myself in the crosshairs.
Pull the trigger as I say goodbye.