Oh yeah. This is where it's at, the anguished scream of rational empathy into the enlightened silence that will be the only one to hear.
I can dig it.
I know, too, the lost gods that tread the boards of some fleapit theatre in faded makeup. They hear you, they know this story. They live it every day, and wonder why they cannot help. "We must help those who help themselves," they nod, useful mental calisthenics, but when they cannot agree in which group to put people this sentiment is useless.
Xenophanes may have shocked the world when he said that "men created gods in their own image" -- the Thracians invent them with blue eyes and red hair, and so on -- and Feuerbach said we must find ourselves in God.
The powerful, the mighty, the mirror image of us. It is terrifying to think we invest such a creator with great benevolence and power. If we wielded, what harm would we do in the name of love?
A hard pill to swallow for sure, but I get it maybe not agree with it but I understand, LOL, damn Ken, humanity has to have something worth while, I still believe, hahahaha...
These scribbled notes of "it is what it is" dashed off and ripped asunder from a spiral notebook, the manic rebellion from a man that has given up speech, a verbal hunger strike in protest, at a world gone insanely sideways, rotting putrid and tied around the necks of all entities that inhabit the cold rock planet. The public punishment for such rebellious behavior, compulsory viewing of television 24/7 without let up, eyes surgically sewn open, cerebral grey matter skewered with red hot irons, the moral base of humanity twisted to perversion while still capable of ethical and spiritual thought..... that about cover it K?
your pieces are searingly blatant, observationally acute and lacking no quarter toward complacency. Bravo.
Kenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more..