POEM: Shown Up

The last
He punched
A clock
It was to stop
A feudal gesture
Accept that
It got him fired
Up to his passions
Eyes wide open
After halving it
And feeling dread
In the mirror
Shuddered into pieces
Having watched
His
Go bye
As hows divided
Against won self
But now
Happening upon him
To be
Re-billed every moment
A knew
Yet know longer
Buy
Sordid clock suckers
And boorish time machines
Transporting too distant years
Never wanting
Such promise
A-trophy
Re: tired
Too due much
As everything ails
In the passed
Having shown up
Today

This is perhaps an appropriate Monday poem for many of the wage slaves working out there.  The first theme addresses one of my grate pet peeves in capitalistic of most daze experiencing the of an alarm clock to get out of bed, usually to for someone else.  The and of replacing a human taskmaster with an electronic device in which wee dutifully assure our appointed time as “shown up,” speaks the the successful internalization and colonization of our lives by bosses.  Most spend most of their waking hours at a , or , that most would leave if they felt they could.  Many would rather be sleeping.  Some may find it difficult to find the difference between a-little-too droning-on working and a-little-too fitful sleeping.  We sell ourselves wholesale, some might say prostitute ourselves, for the promise of what remains.  This overall theme is about trading now for the .  This can be a dangerous — sometimes as dangerous as living fully in the now!  The strange paradox here is that the danger of seeking predictability and in is often the very thing that robs us of ; while a -driven now may bring a careening routinely beyond prediction, such a is a more lively and -filled than the promise of ’s financial and touted from uncertainty.  The is uncertainty, and the this entails.  Inasmuch as we recoil from uncertainty, we make ourselves vulnerable to the purveyors of branded futures, featuring properties, that are designed to convince you to sell today for tomorrow — or more commonly, a paycheck every two weeks.  Granted, a few folks the of their passions now lining up with their various bosses (or co-conspirators).  Still, the inescapable equation is that quality of life is directly tied to how often you show up for your own life, that is compared to pawning your life for or a boss’ designs on your own.  May your life be shown up by an incredible series of presents.

P.S. This is my 500th blog entry.  I better watch it or I may be considered productive.

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