Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Art without audience

Why do I persist
When there is no audience
To drink up my performance

I put myself into words
A product of my narcisism
Weaving my reality into art

There is no money to be had
As my truth rings true
Only for the few

My name has no fame
As I fail the social game
Unable to sell myself

There is the possibility
That my art is apauling
And lacks the key to longevity

All thats left is myself
Flailing at the vast expanse
Creating for my own pleasure

Of course I desire an audience
But I compulsively persist in my art
Even when no one cares to see.

Monday, May 29, 2017

More than sex

I'm tired of having my worth defined
By my performance as a sexual being
I rebel against the idea
That the value of my presence
Is intertwined with physical intimacy
I'm confounded that sexual satisfaction
Is the litmus test of a lasting relationship
Any sexually aware person knows that
Orgasms are cheap and easy to attain
And the fact that I'm sex positive
Doesnt mean I'm eager to provide service
I'm not interested in being hunter or prey
Or at keeping some faux mystery alive
If anything, my ability to satisfy myself
Means I'm lonely for non-sexual touch
I'm eager for comfort and familiarity
I want something more in a partner
Than a really good fuck.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

What's wrong?

what's wrong
with a little social science
a couple of words
to a psychiatrist

who's to say
that empirical data
is faulty at the core
our impressions don't matter

my words
mean more than just me
they can have meaning
without a PhD

so don't throw
your doubt and dissention
as proof that my words
don't deserve attention

if the game is to win
there'll always be someone more right
if the point is to think
then you're the loser
for trying to pick a fight.

Unto this flame...

Percolating bodily orifices
striving to bring me down
into this frightening pit
flaming underground,
The sky might seem to sunny
as to stifle my arrogant need
what I'd give to see the sunlight
off this dark and dismal steed,
It draws me in the morning
and fills the afternoon
prolonging this evident torture
of a deathless, surreal, cartoon;
I am not the only sinner
to never deny my need
but could you please forgive me
so I may continue my deeds.


the ones that get it
are far and few between
but at least they are
exactly as they seem

the ones that try to get it
often fail in their attempt
and the wrongness in their trying
is only sometimes apparent

the ones that think their right
are a dime a dozen to find
and only a few of those
feign they're broader of mind

then there are the righteous
that instruct on who is right
they irk the kindest of souls
and make us all want to fight

In the end I count on one hand
people near and dear to me
that see what I see
and accept who I be

Perhaps my luck in life
Is to have more than one
Who tells me being myself is right
and their judgement is wrong.

Twirl ducts

Twirl ducts
sopped in water
as I may wander
in reminiscence

In a world of wonder
neurosis fodders this mind
and braids my consciousness
in complicated patterns

Has the thought
crossed your sky
that you were not safe
not a place I could cry

There's value in reflection
but what isn't real
disolves as transparent
under grasping hands

Awareness is brought.

Sad little boys

sad little boys
with their pathetic insults
trying to make big of themselves
by making small of me

if only I were impressed
instead of amused
by their laughable attempts
to bruise my ego

I could respond
and give them power
or I can ignore
and remove their bluster

if only I was concerned
by small minds
and petty words
such that I was moved

but I'm not

instead, I'm tickled
by their persistence
and spurned on
by their stupidity

their insults
are my own words
do they not realize,
I beat them to the punch?

what they consider insult
I consider fact
what they accuse me of
I embrace with pride

I may cockblock their dogedness
as I'm moved to laughter
but I won't feign to fart
at such pitiable overtures

sad little boys
so small and unimportant
I rouse them to anger
while they rouse me to laugh.

Probability of Niceness

To some it seems inconceivable
that an atheist like myself
could be more ethical than most

you would think that religion
the great doctrine of many
would lead the rest of the world
to a place of serene coexistence

yet, I find that I'm the one
thinking about my actions
and considering the many benefits
of kindness and consideration

while my religious peers
give into their baser impulses
then ask forgiveness for their acts
because God will understand
if your sorry afterwards

I have to live with my actions
and wonder if I did wrong by another
without any book to guide me
or priest to hear my confession

I have to think of how I acted
and ask if there were choices I made
where I could have chosen different
and hurt others less

I have to sort out my hypocrisy
without a get-out-of-jail-free card

I choose logic to guide me
because the numbers say it best
the mathematicians know why
you find me more nice than mean
it's all about probability
and the chance of a positive return

there's evidence to my point
that people are more likely to be nice
if you're nice to them first

sure, it's a crapshoot
there are no guarantees in this life
you may roll the dice and find
yourself on the losing side
of another persons bad day

but the odds are in your favor
when you play the game
with a positive perspective

many mistake kindness for naiveté
and align forgiving with forgetting
but good guy's don't have to be stupid
if you're smart you'll know the boundary
between kindness and inviting abuse

dare I suggest that you think a little
that you aim for doing what's right
for some other reason than the old standby
that someone else told you to

there may be power in cruelty
but I think there's something more profound
to be gotten out of a stray smile,
a kind word, and a little consideration
for your fellow human being.

My hearts greatest irony

This is not about soot
for then the fire must have died
but instead about the wind
as it cools this overheated flame

The room was filled with smoke
before we noticed the blaze
and yet we piled the wood
onto its billowing wings

I would not contradict
its beauty throughout it's ire
while still predicting the wish
to tame what I have named
The Fire

So please understand my wish
for one half is dark, coals and ashes
while the other retains its brightness
as it try's to burn higher.

maybe I do.

maybe I do think I'm better
that I deserve more
than casual relationships
with casual friends
that are casual with me

my feeling aren't casual
they deserve due diligence and gentle care
I'm strong and tough and sure of myself
but when I let someone in
I let them past my armor
and leave myself defenseless
in their presence

the problem with vulnerability
is that it means someone can break you
a passing word or meaningless action
can pierce you to the core
and when people are casual
they don't think to walk carefully
or make an effort to not break
the things around them

it always surprises me
how my friends can be so careful
with material possessions
but, at the same time,
how they can be so careless
with the people in their lives
that they profess love for

I want to know that my counterparts
will put in the work it takes
Any athlete knows that it takes work
to become great at something
and only when you're great at that thing
does it start to look effortless
Is it so wrong of me
to think that my friends
should be that well versed
in the sport of friendship?

maybe I'm a weirdo
for thinking my friends
should be nicer to me
than they would be to a stranger

before now, I didn't consider
what it meant when I was accused
of acting like I was "better than"
I cringed at the accusation
because I don't think I deserve anymore
than everyone else in the world
I don't put myself up high
on some sort of pedestal

I think everyone deserves
a friend that'll put in the work
someone that won't take them for granted
or assume they'll be around
that'll ask them what they think
and care about how they feel

and, if that means,
that everyone thinks
I consider myself I'm better than
then I'll just feel sad
because they don't get it
There's something better to be had
and if you don't grasp for it
you'll be stuck with the suck
instead of bathing in greatness.


lick your lips
for me

I can't reach
across the distance
to where you are

Space may separate us
but my thoughts
are with you still

I may lay awake
your body close
warm flesh against mine
that I love so dear

Taste them
and tell me
how it feels
as if I were there
to lick them
for you.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017


Why do I whine
it doesn't make any more time
or really change the situation

but it's a release
it pops the bubble I keep
a balloon inside of me

my attitude is my worth
to keep me floating along
and singing a happy song

so what is right
about letting my voice go high
entering into a sigh

except to move on later
let go of what was dragging
so I can float by

maybe there is some point
to making a sour face
as long as I know it's place

today I cry out sourly
for the things I can't have
grump for only a moment, dourly

so tomorrow I can embrace
the world with a happy face
and no more wine to indulge


I made a choice
it wasn't a hard choice
I wanted to love my life
to live it like I want
instead of follow another path

I live my choice
it isn't easy to live
to be content instead of comfortable
to be fulfilled instead of rich
sometime it's so hard
I wish I could wish again

But I stick with it
I play the game
and sometimes win
just the same, my tears
they mark the hardest part
and my happiness the best

I never feel like my life
was chosen by another
or regret that I choose
instead of throwing my choice away
but it's hard
sometimes real hard
to have what I want
and live in this world.

Bright Sad

bright boys eat
whatever may come
because they can't see
what they've done

sad girls lay
with limbs open wide
because they think life
isn't a word to be tried

don't go there
said the men to the boys
what those girls offer
isn't all fun and joy

dust yourself off
say's the ladies to the girls
keep those secrets sacred
and boys'll give you the world

here I stand alone
not sure what to say
struck by the awareness
that sex isn't a game you play.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Almighty father

I don't need a big daddy
Who knows everything I do
Makes me beg for his attention
While demanding unwavering loyalty

I don't want an absentee father
That never speaks directly
And yet managed to dictate rules
Put on paper eons before I was born

I'm supposed to want a papa
But I'm not yearning to be overseen
Or pining for the scales of afterlife
Heaven seems boring and hell unfair

Perhaps my atheism is feminist
Because religion seems male to me
Just like I don't need a man in my life
I don't choose an almighty father

Stranger danger

Dear stranger
I wish you didn't make me uncomfortable
And I wish I didn't expect the worst
But instant excitement scares me
And your attention puts me at unease
At first my bold ways titlate
Often the idea of me seems to appeal
But as time passes I hear judgement
Those less than subtle hints
Criticim meant to be constructive
Suggesting I become more acceptable
That I'd be better off a little less special
But I am not the kind who tries to fit
I was raised to like myself
To embrace my authenticity
Your fleeting affection is no match
For my persistent sense of self
You can't coerce me into normal
This is the curse of an iconoclast
More lonely in a crowd of strangers
Than sitting alone with myself.

Sunday, May 14, 2017

Malleable memory

Memory is malleable by design
We remember things imagined
Wake up from realistic dreams
This is more than poetic
It is science fact
I am not trying to steal
The truth of things remembered
Because truth isn't fact
We recall the the experience of then
Seen through the understanding of now
My mind wants to believe it's constant
It can't refute the influence of time
It can't see the subtle changes in me
I know NOW like it was always
Caught rapt in the reality of today
My experience does not match yours
It's a distorted window at best
Our very personal perceptions
Woven into a tapestry of experience
Sealed in an ever changing vault
So I try not to let the weight of time
Turn all my memories sour
If I must live with a malliable memory
Then I choose a gentler interpretation
A rose colored hue on my soft focus past.