Posts Tagged With: suffering

Mock & Awe (Or Instant Gratifuckation For a Facebook Generation)

(Rough cut)


If misery loves company

Suffering deserves a parade

Can you believe your life isn’t butter?

Mine’s fuckin’ marmalade


Got food, got water, got clothes, got ends

Got words, got time, bad jokes, good friends

Holdin’ our hats straight into the winds-

We’re sellin’ fame to the nameless and faith to the faceless


Cus blood is raceless like

New-Agers are baseless

Run my tongue through empty places

In teeth, pockets, ear-holes, & faces


Want true religion? Buy my book, forget thyself!

You’re sick, you’re battered, you need my help!

Trust no words & pursue true wealth

Keep reading more for a ladder into Hell


People won’t like you forever

And Deepak Chopra can’t make you better

Positive thoughts will change with the weather

Hang tough, remember: pain beget pleasure


Follow the threads, unravel the sweater

Religion aims to negate sense pleasure

While ad execs tryin’ to get to know you better

I’ll be knittin’ a shield if the weather gets wetter


A million ways to get paid and slain,

Punished by time, fines, and canes

Whipped in the gallows and tricked on the plains

Illusion makes slaves from both the sick and sane


Loss found himself cheated by Gain

Just as Abel was murdered by Cain

Praise was accosted and accused by Blame

While Infamy slandered Fame’s good name


Follow the muff, and swallow the bluff,

They say, “death is emptiness, life is hollow ‘n stuff

Fuck for a thrill, better live & shoot to kill

Life is a boot made for walkin’, footed by a physical bill!”


Advertisements wherever we go

Coulda traded bitcoin for a house in Oswego

I put all my savings on a Hail Mary free throw

While a little distracted from TV static free flows


How many likes to get to the center of an ego?

One, two, three, leggo my eggo & pass the chorizo

Blame chemtrails, chemfood, chemdrugs & tv shows

Cheap Neanderthal thrills for the man from Encino

Before we go, some questions burning up my loins:

How does a nation under God divorce its coin?

How come the news makes everyone paranoid?

Why does post-industry man seem to destroy?

How many dimes dropped before a banker’s fined?

How much vegan coke gets a burner high?

How much acid turns your problems wise?

How much medicine heals a sick twisted mind?


Tighten up the space and loosen the form

Our peasant hopes and dreams seem to feed worms

Persistently, our ideas spread like seeds on fallow farms

Resilient and firm, our love carries no harm.

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Sour Mash Doubts

Doubts and guilt, doubts and will

I want a bout with honesty, but still

It ain’t right that I write only to share,

so I walk ‘til I’m naked, alone, and scared


Working on a world made up of lines

a jagged sawtooth, I am dusty hammer tines

aging slowly, rusting like nails in the times

relevance buried in the “who, what, where, why?”


I watch you succeed, I watch you spiral and fail

I watch you unbridled, through a window unveiled

This whole time, we thought our calling had sailed

It was tomorrow we were following, on road & on trail


Yesterdays poem becomes todays advice,

biting me in the ass, these words I read twice,

You counted the cards ‘n I loaded the dice

Who could expect an asshole to play nice?


Every bee stung me, walking to the hive

I can tell you that I’m lucky to be alive

Back on battlegrounds we strive to survive

Us crossing lines, so quick to chance lives


I chamber a round, ‘cus death shoots hollows

Most men just want a war drum to follow

To give them some honor, sacrifice, and bravado

warping the story ‘til each man is Picasso


The drones are marching through sweltering heat

While others dodge illusion and deceit

They see a carpet crawling, rats up to their knees

Fighting for a feast while spreading disease


One beer at a time, one breath at a time,

Wasting money, it’s peace I can’t buy-

Could you spare a little peace of mind?

Or else cut a line and pour me some wine


If you accept my conditions of suffering,

I’ll accept myself and everyone else

I am my own hostage, couldn’t you tell

Pay my ransom or throw me in the well!


Envious of those who grow rich beyond riches

knees grow weary, digging penniless ditches

Rolling the bowl, inhale both genie & wishes

Life is joke between three laughing witches


Mash in the chamber, I am the changer

my experiences distilled be the only remainder,

Gulping and splashing drops upon strange anger

sharing libation and handshakes with strangers


I walk in the woods to stalk a truth I can kill

I’ll beat it and twist ‘til it lies naked & still-

kill or be killed, fulfilling a beast of will

We’ve got a full bottle and I’m a-cooking still


My song is a fly humming through wide open blue

My darling is a harp, playing faithfully and true

My heart is a snake, made of flesh and sinew

We left the apple on the limb, and a new tree grew.

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Surrender to the Mystery

It’s hard when you live away from your home

Not the home where you’ve grown

But the one your heart knows

The places we’re born, some remain until death


But I know I will travel ‘til I find my rest

Expand all limits ‘til the final test

I don’t wanna catch the thing that I know lyin’

So I’ll chase that old dragon ‘til the end of crimes

For it’s not what you get at the end of your line

Nor the bait or the hooks or the length of the time


Most men know a relief from their defeat

And the bittersweet peace at the end of a feast

But that hunger will awake with the crow & the sun

As sure a some black hole is calling for everyone


Now I watch & wait & let the world come to me

I’ve got rot in my teeth and an ache in my knees

I ain’t crazy ‘cus I live with what I cannot see

And it takes all that I’ve got just to live peacefully


Beyond yesterday’s answer lies a deeper mystery

A body doesn’t have to move in order to be free

I surrender to the mystery so I can be free

I’ll surrender to the mystery so I can be free

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New Church

This morning I went to Generations Christian Church
with Grandma and Mr. Fox
her Caprice Classic fired up at 9:15 sharp

I rode shotgun
With green tea in my thermos
and a belly full of water

We saw homeless panhandlers & veterans
by the highway median holding signs
with letters too small and illegible

the police directed traffic
into the church parking lot
this house has room for all, they say

Coffee is $2.00
Pastries are $2.25
admission is free

We walk through God’s gilded doors
passing all necessary check points
on the way to Heavens terminal

Big screens and neon lights inside
remind me of top 40 hits,
movie theatres, and award shows

They sing gospel pop-rock
wearing emoji masks
demonstrating a cultural overlap

I fall into contemplation
while the pastor teaches
about prayer

God made us in his image
and God is an infinite being, so I ask
who are we to live & think so small?

I wonder
why it’s difficult
to be human in form,

to survive right now
most are living for the next paycheck
the next meal, the next drink

so it goes, I can’t rightly criticize
this maze which circles a great heart;
I can’t seem to remain at rest

Every time these eyes close
we merge with boundless space
as beams of light, rippling across cosmos

an inward reflection cast outward
adds up to sense and non-sense;
I  grab a shrapnel of communion wafer & a thimble of grape juice

Praying for a miracle every day:
“let us & them become whole
in understanding and in action

May all sentient beings
be removed from suffering
and the causes of suffering”

mysterious knots unravel
heaven and earth kiss
all eyes, open

This spells faith
in so many words,
This spells love.

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LOVEITALL ®, the Original Prescription Pain Relief

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Do you feel a sense of discomfort, deep down within you?
Do thoughts of impending doom persist upon your dreams?
Does your mind prevent you from being still?
Do you have a strong aversion to different types of pain?
I have amazing news for you!
Pain is one of the greatest teachers available.
Buy your relief cheap, today!
For two easy payments, you can accept your suffering now!
It costs:
* Your concepts of material ownership (not the material itself)
* Your attachment to self & suffering (not the physical body)
* Your blood, sweat, & tears (non-refundable)
Get off those wimpy painkillers & apply a true method of pain relief using:
The surgical steel of ferocious-compassionate self-observation & honesty. Use it to remove all traces of pain and replace that pesky sensation with an all-pervading sense of learning & rightness.
The real smack:
Uncle Sam wants you strung out.
Jails, rehabs, death; you’re playing into his pocket.
Is that really what you wish to represent,
some misguided sense of passive suicidal rebellion?
Get yourself strong today, or die trying!
The force that is natural selection will accept nothing less.
This message brought to you by:
LOVEITALL ®, the Original Prescription Pain Relief
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Madness 2016

This morning, I dropped my cell phone into a toilet full of my 8th day detox shit.
First I tried to fish it out with a random toothbrush & failed.
I tossed the toothbrush into the trash and rolled my sleeve up to the elbow.
I went all in and came out dirty.
Time magazine has declared a prophecy: Donald Trump has won presidency. He bought it.
On the counter-prophecy, Huffington Post (an equally reliable news source) declared Bernie the Victor. He earned it.

It has been a rough start to the year for the real underdogs.
As my phone soaks in a Tupperware of hot water & bleach, I debate whether I’ll throw it out or get a new one. Either way, I need to turn it on once more to copy the contacts over to the sim card.

I really don’t like the idea of remembering last year’s colon buildup every time I catch up with an old friend or relative.

I drank a tall glass of salt water at 6:30 to cleanse my colon. That’s what started this shit.
I got off of solid food for a week. It felt needed. I was full of my own shit: social shit, physical shit, philosophical shit, psychological shit, religious shit, family shit, friend shit, drug shit, booze shit, love shit, hate shit, healing shit, destruction shit.

So I do what I used to do from dope withdrawal: curl up in a ball, shit a lot and cry a little. It seems to help. Call it seasonal affective disorder, or sad bitch syndrome. I can’t call it; I just ride the waves. Surf’s up on the shit pipeline, brah.

Don’t worry mom, I’m not shooting up. I’m using herbal medicine to get this depression thing over with. It’s deeply embedded within me. I am facing it and getting it all out. Give thanks; your son is a survivor despite even himself.

As per usual, I went too far: my cheek bones are jutting from my face, my ribs protruding from my chest, my body is slowly consuming its muscles; some may say I was too skinny to start.

All the hidden aches in my body are highlighted: hips, knees, sciatica, gallbladder, shoulders. The parts that hurt the worst are my filthy mind, and my beautifully abused heart. Me, me, me, it’s all about me. Fuck me. I love I. Me sucks. I broke the fast and am slowing out.

I drove into town yesterday, had some errands to run. Fully hydrated, I went to the DMV. I waited for my number to come up while sipping on a lemon juice & cayenne pepper brew. Yeah, my detox game is so hip. So hip. *pukes all over self*

Since my license was about to expire, I needed to apply for a new one. In the state of Oregon, all new drivers are required to take a computer administered multiple-choice test. I was already feeling lightheaded and dizzy, but the cayenne-lemon juice seemed to give me enough of a pep to stay upright.

After trying this DMV process (to no avail) on several other occasions, I finally had all the proper documents ready (so I thought). I had no choice but to be patient throughout all of this. I can be angry at nobody but myself.

First off, the guy behind the desk tells me the copy of my lease needs to be back-signed, but he can get me started on my test. Great. I sit down in front of the computer and start pressing buttons. The words seem to be floating a few millimeters off of the screen and are rearranging themselves in nonsensical patterns. I try my best to comprehend the questions & answers.

If I get 8 wrong, I’ll fail. There are 35 questions to answer. The first one is about right turns in one-way intersections; I get it right. The next one asks the speed limit in unmarked business sections. I get it wrong. Too fast.

Over the course of the next questions I manage to get more wrong than right. I can’t seem to discern the terminology. The screen is bothering my eyes and I am in a trance gateway headed to the heavens. I pray to the Lord Almighty, asking for the proper intuition to help me pass this test. Even that doesn’t help at the DMV. The Lord is clever, staying away from that place. I don’t disagree with the choice.

I finish my test rather quickly and go to the counter.

“How’d ya do?” the lady behind the counter asks me.

“Not good.” I reply.

I am pale and sickly, so she takes pity on me. I don’t want pity. I just want my fucking driver’s license, but clearly I am not road-worthy at the present moment. I need to go curl up in a cave next to a fire somewhere far away from all of this bullshit. Rejection has such a nice touch; it breeds the acceptance of my inevitable caveman solitude. She tells me I can come back the following day to try again. I grab a book to actually study this time.

Outside the DMV, a lady with a clipboard asks me if I want to sign a petition to stop voter information from being sold. I tell her I’m not registered in the state (yet), but she lets me sign on anyway. We talk for awhile about how corrupt this world is, and she spins her yarn,

“It’s a bunch of crooks & con-men, you know, the guys they tell you to look out for on the internet and in the cities, they’re all running the state and federal government,” I nod my head as she goes on, “I shouldn’t be running my mouth like this but I’m old and I have a mouth so I’m gonna use it!”

I give her thumbs-up and a smile, silently thinking “breath is precious”.

I hop into the car and make my way down the street to the Federal Credit Union to set up a new bank account. I step into the bank and am greeted by three tellers at once. This is a different style of bank. There is no line. It’s chaos. I am immediately confused and after fumbling with my feet for an indistinct amount of time, I instinctively walk toward to the teller whom I find the most attractive. I scramble for my ID and she gets me set up with a sit-down banker.

We go over my needs.

“Do you need direct deposit? Do you need financial planning? Have you thought about retirement?”


“How about credit, do you want to build that?”

“I try not to spend money that I don’t already have.” I say, thinking I’d rather have street credit than banking credit.

Call me foolish but I think the whole game is fucked & I don’t wanna play, even if it means sacrificing my own comfort. Even if it means facing piles of hospital bills I can’t possibly pay. If that happens I’ll file for bankruptcy or I’ll file for SSI (yes I can get it, I’m a homeless addict. In America I am rewarded for bad decisions. Does that upset you? It should.)

We do a credit check and I’m at a solid 0. Last year I was -1, perfect.
She then goes on to ask me,

“What happened with so-and-so bank and so-and-so bank in 2011?”
The needle skips off the record.

“How much do I owe?” I ask

“You owe $100 to these guys and $500 to these guys. They shut you down for account abuse and sent it to collections.” She gives me a wary look.

“Ah shoot, I totally forgot about that. Hadn’t heard from them and thought it went away. I made some foolish mistakes a few years ago.” I shyly disclose.

“Well the collections agencies give up after 7 years and it was 5 years ago.” She informs me of an option to wait it out.

I truly want to resolve it. This year has been a year of me squashing debts. Resolving bad credit I created years ago, I’ve paid out a few grand. I have a few grand left. At the time of the offense, I remember putting it onto my future self. I acknowledged that if I survived my dope habit at the time, I would inevitably have to redeem myself in the future.

Here it is. Here is my chance to pay the banks back. Will I do it? I’m not sure. Is it the right thing to do? I don’t know. I’d rather give it to charity. Are the banks worthy of redemption? Probably not. I don’t have the cash on hand but I can go work for it.

I thank the teller and walk out the door. My head is cold. I realize I lost my hat. I go back into the bank and walk around aimlessly searching the floor. I pay mind to no one while the room is silent. I can feel them all observing my strange behavior. I inevitably stand out; I am not able to fully gauge the gaps in conversation. I space out randomly, as if my body is processing remnants of leftover psychedelic experiences.

In one moment, I am in the room, in the next moment I am flying through the stratosphere perceiving the nature of existence through omniscient observation.
I see it all go down.

I see the piss, the shit, the junkies & the derelicts, nodding out in alleys, shooting up in groups, taking care of each other while simultaneously robbing each other of property, the small reflects the large,

I see the faces of tortured victims, beheaded journalists, religious radicals, political refugees, war torn nations, no water and no food, no shelter from the storm,

I see fat fucks stuffing their faces with McDonalds rallying for Donald Trump,
the so-called silent majority working themselves to the bone in a battery factory, high on meth made by their hillbilly Uncle who’s now doing ten years of fed-time,

I see the corporate prison owners driving the nails into the coffins of rehabilitation,

I see the priests spewing ignorance & intolerance while teaching a sermon of tolerance & acceptance,

I see gun enthusiasts acting like they’re the biggest gang around, ha ha what a laugh,

I see independent militias with plans of revolution, like replacing the government is as easy as putting on a new suit & tie?! If you replace shit with more shit, you’ll have a bigger pile of shit you fucking clowns,

I see movements that go nowhere, devoid of leadership & direction, lost in the sea of misdirection, scared to take a stand for fear of some hail of bullets, drones, nanobots, realizing their own ineptness through misacting and miscommunication,

I see a tired old generation still stuck in the habit of destroying everything around them and condemning their sons & daughters for being lazy, because our rejection of their industrial continuum means it is invalid, it means their whole lives have been a waste and they are far too selfish to ever release us of their own expectations,

I see pain in the eyes of our fathers as they’ve inherited a barrel of pain & misunderstanding, as their wives leave them, their family falls apart in anger and destruction, the bank claims homes and businesses, a glass of scotch and the barrel of the handgun tastes like freedom from this,

I see the tears in our mothers eyes because they’ve always been so much more than stay-at-home moms, been more than chefs, more than day-care, more than secretaries and substitute teachers, they’ve been the backbone of all this misfortune and they never got to find out who they really are, so xanax and sleeping pills tastes like freedom from this,

I see suffering in the eyes of our grandparents as they give up, this world is out of their realm of understanding, they give up their bodies, they give up their minds as they softly fade into chemical comas in nursing home beds,

I see pain in the eyes of our sons & daughters, we never wanted this, no, we didn’t want the mansion, the gifts, the false prosperity, the sense of well-being devoid of fulfillment, all we ever wanted was your love & acceptance while you were too busy working to buy us things & then tell us we’re all spoiled,

I see a bunch of millennials praying to the gods in their phones, oblivious to the world outside, concerned only with the next distraction, never fully able to appreciate the one in hand,

I see recent college graduates, too scared to be themselves so they mimic their parents, working jobs that fulfill the same misery their parents raised them with, drinking every day to numb their confusion & lack of internal fulfillment,

I see jaded city-folk born & raised to worship the man-made, disconnected from nature, warped on pharmaceuticals,

I see lost country-folk, raised on nature & warped on mushrooms & molly, playing into consumerist demands which create the exploitation of organic food & organic cannabis which is largely becoming sold to further selfish ends, marketing products under the guise of enlightened consumerism with sacred geometry logos and mercaba patterns, starting to look a lot like Pepsi and Coco-Cola,

I see counter-culture turned culture, a generation of robotic dancers flowing to electronically contrived beats, shelling out their parents’ trust fund to rebel against conventional living through supporting conventional partying, following festivals and shows with a false idea of revolution as they mimic the same shameless capitalism as Wall Street in their drug-made cottage-industry,

I see fake yogis and phony sadhus with pasty complexion, covered in phony ashes & fake dust as they wander aimlessly digging through trash cans and dumpsters in search of the next piece of new-age tail to chase down,

I see new-age philosophers, selling ideas piled upon ideas; nothing makes sense because the words are sold for cents,

I see the hip-hop and the hip-not, the real recognizes the real, and there’s only a few keeping it real,

I see hackers sticking it where it hurts, reminding the powers that be of the raw force of evolution & nature in technological form,

I see sustainable majors, gaining a grasp on what is needed to be done, and finding the good word in the air, water, & sun,

I see old farmers educating new farmers; I see nature supporting itself through the fruits of old growth feeding new growth,

I see bright lights among dark shadows, I see mothers raising new babies with old values, water-born babies-in-arms, no drugs and no hospitals,

I see children with illuminated & untainted minds, I see teachers with jaded inspiration, and I see substitutes with optimism & hope & love,

I see our fathers and mothers recovering from their maladies; after everything has been lost they can begin anew. I see realization in their eyes & minds, we share the burdens together and overcome them through strength and love and community, building ourselves alongside a better day,

I see wise old grandparents who have met the Almighty, have no fear and realize the cycle of life, hold no grudge and no regret and remain an endless source of inspiration and wisdom,

I see the habits breaking after we survive them, after we survive ourselves, we decide we cannot kill ourselves because we don’t have it in us, we lack the strength to do so, so we turn to constructive & selfless means because it’s the only thing that releases us from the prisons of our twisted bodies & warped minds,

I see senators & congressmen growing old & dying, I see the new replacing the old,
I see the new getting sick and tired of the world our grandparents & parents left us, I breathe the chemicals, the pollutants, the harmful technologies of HAARP, the radiation from the pacific ocean: it’s in the clams, the crabs, the tuna, the squid, the seaweed, the pacific ocean is dying, the world is slowly dying again,

And it’s all a cycle, it comes and goes, ebbs and flows, nature takes care of itself but is that any reason to continue neglecting it? Decay feeds growth only while the environment is supportive of healthy growth.

I see a lonely writer, broken heart healing, hating himself and loving himself, stuck outside & forced to live inside, outdated & outnumbered, raging in darkness with a candle burning his fingertips and eyelids, ranting silently to himself with aches all over and a headache: no sugar no smoke no smack no dope no hope, he realizes immanence, no use for hope anymore. The show always goes on. There is no need for pessimism or optimism; they are a waste of energy. Just be and die.

And then I leave the bank, hopefully for the last time. I make it home alive, find the hat in my pocket, and resolve not to go out again like that. It was a careless move on my part, but I trust in the good will of the Universe to guide me home without injury to others.
Myself can wait. I sit and contemplate the material of existence silently.

“If we don’t discipline ourselves, the world will do it for us.” -William Feather

Consider this a peace offering.


I love you all,

Simon Cape
Central Oregon
January 13, 2016

Categories: Ailments & Cures, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Thanks, Vets- 2015

Thank you Vets
for your saving the lives of so many pets!
… … … ha … … … ha? … … …
Was that disingenuous?
I’ve already shot myself in the foot.
Forgive me; these things make me squeamish.
I deflect anxiety with humor.
Thank you Veterans of America.
Just… thank you.
But why? Why am I grateful to you?
It’s not for bloodshed & battle
nor bullets or politics.
My gratitude grows from a deeper place.
I understand human conditioning.
I live alongside sentient suffering.
As much as empathy allows,
I feel your pain.
I respect your plight,
I respect your contributions.
I respect your sense of justice and duty,
(although it may often be misguided by our superiors)
I superiorly respect what you have had to endure.
I hope you can take sigh of relief
and live your lives according to your own understanding.I wish for you
dear warriors,
an end to suffering.
May you find your truth swiftly
and carry yourselves home
as brothers in arms
with equanimity
and without hierarchy.

Thank you for your service.
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On the Awareness of Good Deeds

“When people see some things as beautiful,
other things become ugly.
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad.” -Lao Tzu

it is imperative to practice
long before preaching.
Most will look between pages
for inspiration and devotion

good words live in good books;
they sprout from tentative lips
to pollinate the receptive ear
as the message grows in the mind.

before a word becomes true
it must be balanced carefully
against itself
through relativity and universality

as if carrying heavy volumes
always weighing down the mind;
a dictionary crown finds stability
where flat meets round

as I walk
with heavy books balanced atop my head,
striding mindfully
with ever-present equilibrium

I always fall
the moment a good deed is recognized
as such; my toes become crushed
by the weight of words, fallen from grace

returning to practice,
I forgive my mistakes
and wear the bruises to remind
that no suffering goes unpunished

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