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

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

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