#TBT (Take the Damn Pill)

Pose, Prose & Poems (My Thoughts Exactly) was published a year or so before The Matrix was released in theaters. 🤔 1998 and 1999 respectively.

Fast forward two decades and…

Pose,Prose & Poems was absorbed into Getting Me Back (The Voices Within) and I am in a debate with myself. A choice has to be made. I have only two options.

What if I choose to not choose? I ask.

That is not an option. The voice replies.

What if I make the wrong choice? I ask.

… Silence💭

Can I change my mind?

…More silence… 💭

How many —

The voice has grown impatient. I/we do not like indecisiveness.

Just take the damn pill!

So I took the pill – again. You see, I took the pill a long time ago; before it was a pill.

Ignorance Was Bliss


I slump to the floor, scratching at my eyes.
Please don’t make me see.
Fists to my ears still the sound seeps in, forcing me to hear.

No! No, I do not want to know.
I search for the comfort of simple things…
a sunny day, cool green grass,
a soft fuzzy dog with his cool nose to my face,
a child singing softly – his own song.
Let me sing my own song.
Knowledge is a burden to those with a conscience, a sense of right and wrong.

©️1998 Pose Prose & Poems

©️ 2017 Getting Me Back

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Costumes (Friday’s Free-For-All)

Before I share let me say, I am aware of the cynical tone of this piece.

I said, “of this piece” because I am not a cynical person. Sarcastic, yes, but not cynical.

It’s not the quarantine or the Covid 19 bug that is bugging me, hell it’s not even the empty shelves in the grocery stores or having to wipe with an oak leaf. That is not a big deal, remember I was a piss poor country bumpkin so this just reminds me of happier days as a child.

So what brought about this Friday’s Free-For-All on this Good Friday? It’s the peee-puuul! Well not ALL the people – and definitely not you friend. (Insert winky face, smiley face and through in a bunch of virtual hugs)

Sigh. People never fail to amuse me.

So while I am feeling amused during this holy time I thought I’d get up on my Hickory stump podium and compose a poem. (And a picture)

Costumes

You look for your Jesus in a cheap red suit in December and a bunny suit come Easter.

You dress Him in costumes and [unknowingly?] mock His sacrifice.

You keep Him naked, wounded and nailed to a cross; not to remind you that he was the Passover Lamb but to have him languish in his suffering. You sacrifice him over and over again, creating molten images to hold him on the cross.

You have married Him to Santa and a goddess named Easter/Ishtar; you worship their imaginary offspring of pretty packages and hard boiled eggs, savory sweets and bunny rabbits… none of which can save you. Ha! These objects of your affection are inanimate – they cannot even save themselves!

You dress for the occasion – Sunday’s best. Is this your costume?

Donned in your fetching attire you sit down to feast and stuff your belly with unclean meats and your spirit starves. But it’s “holy”. .. So holy! You take it all in and shit it out. Cleansing?

Amidst fearful news you fret over toilet paper and regurgitate biblical verses [verses you haven’t taken the time to read, much less comprehend] and warn of Christ’s coming… of the great rapture.

Ohhh child, you are ripe for the devil’s picking.

Have a blessed Good Friday & Happy Easter Y’all