Bring Me The Head Of Winky Macbride Poem by Raj Dronamraju

Transporting for the cartel of joy
Not selling anything illicitly in small packages but giving it away for free in small packages
In conversations and in introductions of peace and of love and acts of generosity

Spirit feather tickles rampart protected inner being
In congregations of anti-grimace, they all agree there is no sense in going through life unhappy

And these proclamations of sensible happiness make others angry
"Others" equal under the rock dwelling, fixed pattern, mud slathered mourners of things still alive
Not making friends and not going outside
Pushing shopping carts filled with disdain and with down-mouthed self fulfillment

The hit is out and they scream for the blood of the positive
But they do not know Winky MacBride rises at 4: 30 AM every day, exercises and does yoga then eats a simple breakfast of fruit and yogurt

To cryogenically act as saint and scamper away from perseverance as if its touch burns
To use irony as if it was an official language and the most clear honest form of communication
To scorn positivity as if it was the dangerous ideology of a hated foe

Winky MacBride forces no one to do anything
Does not spread a gospel and does not preach to strangers
He shows pictures of his life and they are filled with happy smiling people in beautiful settings