Guy Farmer

Time and Again - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Time and Again

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As we’ve seen time and again,
Despots are not content with
Merely having all the
Riches and power.

It is not enough to
Control everything and
Everyone all the time
Without resistance.

Their inner neuroses
Demand further action,
Complete eradication of
Contemptible foes.

It’s always the same story:
Use language to denigrate and
Dehumanize their opponents,
Label them vermin.

Even regular, upstanding,
Normally kind people will
Eventually believe something
If it’s repeated enough.

A populace becomes convinced
That the enemy needs to be
Vanquished at any cost and
With extreme prejudice.

 
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Planet - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Planet

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Unsettlingly tall smokestacks
Belch sinister clouds of smoke
Into the pristine night sky.

A river runs red and sterile,
Oily, thick waters embellished
With mounds of ghastly froth.

Another giant fear mobile rolls off
The assembly line, roaring to life
On dirty petrochemicals.

A few well-fed magnates
Conveniently forget their grandchildren
Have to live on this planet too.

 
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Not Knowing - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Not Knowing

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Not knowing
What to do next but
Forging forth
Without hesitation,
Leaving space for
Anything that might
Come along,
Welcoming everything,
No arbitrary constraints,
All things possible.

 
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Instinct - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Instinct

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The harshest survive,
The most broken
Impose their will
On hapless bystanders,
Darwinian tragedy.

Wired with a capacity
For compassion and
Nuanced thought,
Unconsciously venerating
Brute force.

Clamoring horde of
Merciless boors
Feasting greedily,
Remorselessly,
Ignoble instinct.

Into Each Other's Lives - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Into Each Other’s Lives

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They walked into each other’s lives
Without a single clue as to how to
Treat someone well. The only tool
They possessed was the ability to
Repeat what they had seen their
Respective parents do, poorly.

They proceeded to make each other
Occasionally joyful but mostly
Profoundly miserable. Such is the
Fate of those who live unconsciously,
Perpetuating the ordeal one reaction at a time,
Each new mistake following the last.

Children - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Children

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It’ll hurt business
To help the poor,
To raise the minimum wage,
To remove the glass ceiling,
To regulate pollution.

Opposing humanity,
Communities of one.
Complete domination,
Uncontrolled predation
The only objective.

Imperious children
Bawling self-indulgently,
Pleading for pity,
Encircled by
Human wreckage.

Reassuring Words - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Reassuring Words

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A series of crises jolt frail,
Susceptible minds into visceral fear.
Whom to blame, someone, anyone.
Single out the weakest,
Attach despective labels.
Rail against fabricated enemies of
Crumbling state of mind.
Revel in the reassuring words of
Mendacious itinerant salesmen,
Venal opportunists promising to
Protect you from your
Recurring, misplaced nightmare and
Restore order.

Loan - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Loan

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Things have been tough lately
For Jessica. Her hours got cut
At the fast food place and people
Aren’t hiring as many housekeepers
As they used to.

She’s talked to the landlord who
Won’t budge on the rent being due
Though she’s always payed on time.
She looks at her kids and holds them
When they say they’re hungry.

No pennies left to pinch, so she
Takes a breath and goes to one of those
Loan places with the lighthearted ads.
She walks through the door and,
Minutes later, has money in hand.

Sure, it was hard putting her car up
As collateral, but things will work out.
A week later she visits another loan
Place to pay the interest on the first,
She hopes things will turn around.

Dedicated - Process Your Anger about the Human Condition

Dedicated

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He smiles gleefully
And declares that
Money is all that
Really matters.

He retires to
His palatial mansion
Where the private chef
Prepares him a meal.

He keeps busy,
Keenly aware that
Time is money and
Idleness is weakness.

Not a single
Day goes by when he
Doesn’t fend off
A perceived rival.

He fights to the end
To preserve what’s his,
A snarling beast guarding
A horde of gold.

Never a day
Dedicated to
Becoming a
Better person.

Poetry by Guy Farmer