Buckfuzzard International

A Life Unfettered
By
Randy Wright

A birth gives way to the fascinations of the human spirit;
the primal slap is followed by screams;
this vocal expectorant separates us from our immersion in the maternal sustenance.
Rejoice in the gathering of kindred hearts to celebrate this naissance and dreams.

Baby boom looms, sha-boom sha-boom;
1 man, 1 wife, together with two point five offspring;
nuclear so jocular, the social model is finely balanced on society’s dubious fault line.
Fear not, young explorers, for the path to happiness is etched in the dust of the rubble. God Speed you young thing!

The cathode ray tube illuminates the world in hues of black and grey;
the city we are told is colored in shades of green;
a girl and her dog were directed by a promise of a motherland homecoming.
politics are real in this opus of fiction, drawing on its spectacular production,
the cast play out their functions-a means to the end-the transmission has captured us, as we remained fastened to the screen.

The 60’s, 70’s, 80’s and more, society has transformed us into a mindless media whore.
Cookie cutter homes stretched as far and as straight,
Dinner is at seven, Happy Days comes on at eight.
We are told what is right, and what we should wear,
We are instructed to avoid all evils, and tender up prayers.

Love is a card manufactured with speed,
Add chocolates and diamonds and wrap it in greed.
These possessions are valuable, but not to the heart,
The anger and betrayal is tearing us apart.

Consumed by consumption, we have what we must,
What we are lacking, we obtain through means-some unjust.
Looking and searching for fortune and fame,
Life and Monopoly are not just board games.

Escape if you must, try if you can,
The thing you fear most, is where life began.
The man in the mirror, the man on the screen,
Converge into one entity and form the machine.

The cogs, the drones, the minions they toil,
Pillaging young dreams and raping the spoils.

The chains are rusting and weakening each link, the bondage may be broken with every inflicted dink.
Small town, hometown, downtown, it all feels the same, culture is a TV dinner-it’s so bland and so lame.
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Who am I but the sum of my present existence?
Who am I to question my fate?
I carry on the tradition of dysfunction like our savior who bore the mighty timbers of the dogwood.
Is it wrong to carry this blasphemous pity for self?
Will my self righteous pains atone for the sins of the world?
Big hair, small pants, we all tried to dance-
Members Only, Izod, Osh Kosh by Gosh;
Slammin’ and Jammin we head to the Mosh.
If the hat makes the man and Blackwell agrees;
We ‘vogue’ are pretensions with style, grace and ease.
Our cars are so fast, they are sleek and regal;
Break neck speeds, their existence illegal.
The tunes are imported we call them the rave;
The one hit wonder stands one foot in the grave.
   It’s not what we wear, what we drive or desire;
  A social identity without a date to expire.
An epiphany came in a flash of ancient verse,
I must form my Hai ku, to remove this mortal curse;
   My Hai Ku: Man who seeks
Strong and weak
Inner child cries
Love
Hurt
Embodiment of the soul
Laughter of the heart
Poems should rhyme
Why did you fart?
The balance was tilted, the universal plane did sway
I was told that fulfillment could be found using Feng Shui.
                                           My Heart  
Emotions                   Physical Presence
        Family                                               Friends
                Finance                                                     Romance
                 Health                                                   Psyche
                     Recreation                                   Career
                             Past                                  Present    
                                           The Future
When I was done, I stood back in wonder
At the elliptical pattern, that was my life I had sundered.
Was this a plan
Or a cry for Help?
It’s a dog’s life type of world
I let out a yelp!
My last ditch effort to connect to this realm,
Inclusion to the Ya Ya sisterhood membership,
I was finally at the helm.
Finding my feminine side was the premise to the game,
I was labeled as Queen Glimmering Moon for my sisterhood name.
Chick flicks were required to have mushy cinematic themes,
It sure wouldn’t hurt to be equipped with ovaries it seems.
After watching countless actions of these romance thespians;
I later discover I have transformed into a lesbian.

I have grown past my need to be one of the many,
I have grey locks in mane and am no longer skinny.
Observation is the vice, that I tend to with persistence,
The material is plentiful and I need no assistance.

The children they play, so carefree and inherent;
Their toys are automatons, they become the new parent.
The offspring they grow, the nest they must leave;
The bondage of aprons strings they willfully heave.
I see them beside me, they are hard to avoid,
Communication borders on culture devoid.
The generation gap is more like a slit,
It tethers like damaged fabric, I’ll have to admit.
The World it seems is held in place by a thread,
Futility and gloom, they heighten the dread.
The tapestry is flawed but not totally destroyed
The life cycle ensures that preservation is employed.
The cell phones
  The Ipods
    The Internet
      The Global Positioning Systems
        The Media
          The World
Connection in an otherwise unconnected world…Email me
                                                                              …Voice mail me
                                                                                 …Page me
                                                                                  …Have your attorney call my attorney
                                                                                     …Just respect me!
      Go out into the land, guided by the hand,
      Of fate that you must, place complete trust.
       In finding your connection within the confines of Pop Culture
       Define your role: are you the carcass or the vulture?
My Izzle is Fashizzle. WORD UP DOG!!!  Peace Out…R-Man