On The Sin-Tax Bill (Poem)

I remember the good ol’ days where cigarettes were cheap,
I could smoke a set of sticks, a pack a day, a week,
I could keep drinking from those bottles till it made me weak,
Stick after bottle was good, but now, I have to speak.

Why DID the government go and tax our vice?
Is it because they want people to be healthy, clean and nice?
Is it cause they want people to spend less money and be wise?
Nah, I think it’s cause they just want to earn off of the public’s demise.

If they wanted us all to quit, they would’ve stopped selling this sh*t,
They would’ve stopped selling cigarettes to both adults and kids,
They would’ve banned every single Marlboro stick,
But that’s not good for their income because tobacco is BIG.

If they wanted us all to quit, they would’ve stopped selling the juice,
No more drunken driving cases where people file lawsuits,
No more bottles, no more cans of fermented roots,
No more alcohol content having people make loot.

It’s tax, and it’s for revenue to make the country last,
But instead it helps them do better when they reel in all the cash,
To spend more consumer money when sprucing up their stash,
And they laugh with all they get from the bottles and ash.

They say everyone’s taxed so it isn’t unfair,
But with the amount that they steal, they really just couldn’t care.
They can afford it everyday and they won’t even share,
Hell, they go to work smoking, drunk, and unprepared.

So raise a finger drinkers, smokers to another government scam,
Taking away the simple things is just a part of their plans,
And when we think that we have everything at the tip of our hand,
They go and lie every elections about a promised land.

(c) Anachronic Works 2013

Bargaining (Poem)

How much,
Is your final
Offer
For these
Cigarettes?

What,
Is your last
Price
For these
Drinks?

What,
Will it take for you to
Come
Home with
Me?

When,
Will you
Keep
Your promise to
Me?

Will,
You
Accept
Poetry
As
Payment?

Will,
Words of affection
Be
Enough
For
You?

Where,
Do we
Go
From here
And
Now?

How would you,
Like to
Do
It when the
Time
Comes?

What then,
Will we
Settle
On when the
Night
Is done?

Why,
Don’t we
Close,
The deal
Before
Introduction?

There. Now.
Tell
Me your
Name.
I’ll tell you
Mine.

(c) Anachronic Works 2012

K. F. L. Y. Y.

The wind on my skin is so cold, I could freeze. My eyes are sore, and red, and tearing up. I barely have control over most of my senses. I feel immortal with a weight on my chest that pushes outward. My head drops left and right, and my body wants to follow. Dark and light, move around as if shadows. The music plays and it carries me away on a ship that sails never to see the light of day. I the numb captain immortal, commandeer this ship alone.

With some leaves in my pipe, and a face so cherry-ripe. I wipe my eyes, and fly this ship on the liquid skies. The birds swim and the fish fly, but there is no help to come to me tonight.

I miss the sound of a voice in the distance, it no longer sings, the mermaids are gone. As I am caught up in this blissful instance, I fall once more to the floor of bone. This ship was built on the backs of men, and men lead it across great distances, just to hear the voice call their name. The sun rises with it’s massive blue. Moby Dick couldn’t compare to the size of this spew. This spittle from the sky of liquid jumps and falls, with a white cloud tidal wave, it splashes us all.

The bunny next to me thinks greatly of my endeavor. It thinks me the king of all that is clever. Alas I itch, and my hair needs a scratch, so I sit and use my boot for that. The bunny is starving so I give it some Chicken Cornflake (TM) and it enjoys the milk-less cereal that makes your daily dose of supposed food roll into one suppressed meal. The sea will do that to you, and you need to maneuver as well as eat.

Yes!

The sun shines and calls me, the shirtless, Captain of this ship. The light of the smokey stars start to fade as they rock me to my sleep of days. I sleep in the daylight but I am no vampire. It is but the simplest of things, a plant I admire.

(c) AnachronicWorks 2012

God Save The Trees, Long Live The Trees

You grow like you know,
You know you are very strong,
You, the mighty Tree.

Towering around,
The true King of the Jungle,
Ruler of Forests.

Hundreds of feet high,
You are nature’s best creature.
And surely, you live.

You don’t feed on life,
And you can provide for such.
You feed the weaklings.

Great is your power,
Your sacrifice aids all life,
A servant to all.

They chop and stab you.
Yet you do not seek revenge,
You suffer but smile.

The storm will brew, but,
You provide them a shelter,
Until your last breath.

You the Timid Beast,
Take all with you when you fall,
But you live in peace.

The perfect leader,
Your rule is just and righteous.
Father to your sons.

One day all will sing,
Your chants and praises galore,
But indeed I know:

“God will save the trees!”
They sing but no word is meant,
“Long will live the trees!”

(c) Anachronic Works 2012

Lost in This World (Project Song)

I’ve been stuck on this same old road,
For more than I can remember,
For more than I can tell.
I’ve been going around in circles,
And I think that I just fell,
Into a deeper part of hell.

But I know. Yes I know. Oh I know, you’ll find me. (x2)

Coz I am lost in this world without you,
There are things that I just can’t defeat.
I am lost in this world without you,
So please don’t leave me be.
Just please stay here with me, with me.

I’ve already been ’round here.
These roads look the same.
But you come up from behind me,
And I’ll never be the same again,
No I’ll never be the same again.

Coz I am lost in this world without you,
There are things that I just can’t defeat.
I am lost in this world without you,
So please don’t leave me be.
Just please stay here with me, with me.

(c) Anachronic Works 2012

Delayed Merry Christmas (It’s Amazing How The Simplest of Stories Can Make One Cry)

So yesterday, I was at a hotel for Christmas day, and surprising to say, I couldn’t get away with my way, because internet service in the room means that you have to pay. 100 Pesos an hour is really too much, so I was not able to post this soon enough, but nevertheless, here I am now, ready to share something new to the crowd.

 

So for all you people out there who had spent their Christmas-es alone, then that’s cool. At least the Internet always has some posts for you guys. 🙂 Here’s the post:

 

It’s Amazing How The Simplest of Stories Can Make One Cry

 

The more complex on the other hand makes one think.

The comical drive the point of the need to laugh.

The more horrific drive the point of the need to fear.

The romantic drive the point of the need to love.

The action and movement filled ones drive at the need to live to the fullest.

The musical drive the point of expression through the sounds that affect us ergo the importance of our ears.

The silent ones drive the point of expression through visuals and how important our eyes really are.

Though with all of this, it’s the simple ones that drive the point of life itself. It’s the simple ones that make us cry. Why? Maybe because we relate to them. Maybe because they’re easier to comprehend. Maybe because they’ve happened to us. Maybe because they can influence more. Maybe because the lessons learned are really useful. Maybe because we follow by example. Maybe because of all of these combined.

 

Or maybe.

Just maybe.

You’d like to,

Live out what actually transpired.

 

You’d like to live it, so you can tell your version.

You’d like to live it, so you can experience the fullness of life.

You’d like to live it, because you’ve been starved of it.

You’d like to live it, since it happens to others.

You’d like to live it, knowing what to expect or what not to.

 

But for me, I like the simple ones because they make me tremble,

they make me question,

they make me wonder,

they make me realize,

they make me analyze,

they make me worry,

they make me relieved,

they make me stay awake,

they make me sleep,

but most of all,

I like the simple ones,

Because they inspire.

 

Because,

 

To know the simple will give you all that you’ll ever need to make the complex.

 

(c) Anachronic Works 2011

We Have Time (A Poem)

I’m wondering how the world would be without the essence of existence.

What words are there to explain this resistance to persistence?

The persistent push of mother nature, and yet we keep our distance.

Our lives are futile without each other’s assistance. In this stance,

We try to survive in this world of hatred and we still dance.

We still dance to the rhythm of the music of sleep,

We still dance to the sounds of our demise that creeps,

So deep. So deep.

Intrepid in our futile push to survive, so deep.

I’m apologetic to you, and you’re irritated with me.

I’m in sorrow, with all the chaos in our sea,

Puberty.

Insanity brings me comfort, bringing me back to reality.

The intensity, of this system of inconsistency,

Is as fucked up as the discomfort of plasticity.

A poem for your sake has brought me to my low grades of D,

G, the chord I play with the C to hopefully let you see,

E, and I hope that this basic tune will let me be,

That I love this music, and I love your music…

And I’m tired of this world, and I hope you’re not as tired.

I want to forget to remember to remember to forget,

It’s been said.

If we have time to love ourselves, we have time to love others.

We have time to dance, we have time to sleep, we have time to cry, we have time to fake it.

Time however, is of the essence and I can’t conceive shit.

I can only wish for the sake of this, that we make the most of our time in this,

This world.

And the most of my time will be well spent on you.

(c) Anachronic Works 2011