“hey you…”

“posturing is pointless
when you simply need a hug

to deny one’s own
humanity
is to deprive
that of others

the terrible fragility of every facet
of our existence
must always be considered

i know i could use a hug
and so could you

the truth of love is universal

why am i still talking?”

shuts up and hugs you

Dispatched

dispatched
to the hungry umbrage
spindly wraiths
spill ruination
arms athwart
absorb nullity
boots and RIFs
soon disavowed

whistling timbres
so precise
held brimstone fists stripped
knuckled white
waried faith
lest bullets showered
dulled the Duster pastorales

plucked like florets
bare and breathless
strafing nightly
saw them felled
prowess at imperil’s onset
sweat poured down
a poor man’s brow
loud as telegraphed
impressions
dispossessed
like wingless flies

birds took to the sky
in errant
bursts of aril
none were spared
crimson horrors
void of rinsing
from the hands
of shellshocked minds

blind are days
since hell became us
land of freedom
man as god
sadist thieves
left grief besotted
rotting leaves
pinned to dead air

Pasting the Past Into the Present

a poem is but
a restive cluster
grasping
onto pages
with our frantic
fears conspicuously
calling out
for rescue

meticulously poring through
decrepit thoughts
of hoarded visions
kiss to tryst
to triste
in a blissful
dissolution
before sediment
comes nigh
where sighs undress
our destitute descries

calculated coalescence
pandering our pride’s
priviest imprints
curling chips of paint
exposing throes
of yesterdays

sacred cruxes
born before
our burgeoning bereavement
from whence all
embarking destined
for a distant hearken
poised to be
impartially presented
in pretentiously penned
appropriations
parsed
to pierce our peers
appetition
to sate this
untold inquisition

Aversion

13615391_622815011206693_3888768665074736890_n

ere i walked the shadows
of a shameless life eschewed
i sometimes talked for hours
on the telephone
’tis true

attending to the inbox
which would hold my correspondence
until one day i stopped
having become too despondent

seven years have come and gone
and still i have not looked
nor listened to my messages
not even on facebook

this plague pervades
most every aspect
of my adult years
i since have lost the respect
of my family and peers

for they can’t see the reasons
nor the logic of my plight
its tragedy is lost
amid the inference of their sleight

presuming that it must be
that they’ve somehow drawn my ire
some say i’m maladjusted
others think i have retired

i cannot help but panic
upon hearing rings and tones
instilling in me frantic feelings
reeling in my home

truth be told i have disabled
every last alarm
and push notification
for they only cause me harm

and should you try to reach out
with an intention to touch
you’ll not invade this redoubt
that has long since been my crutch

and if you are to know me
then you first must understand
even if you are the homie
you can talk to your own hand

Monarch Sky

i thought
that you could see me
through the lens
which rend your heart

the foment
of foreboding heed
that sought
to play your part

with every waning
flaxen tide
thus waxing
unquashed tears
comprised
of unseen sorrows
as they fall
into arrears

this blood yields not
to yarrow
‘neath the fields
of monarch sky

the piercing
of your arrow’s wound
seals fast
our love’s demise

Petaled Trails

once
i walked
a lone procession

in the blossoming
wake of a cherry
bloom daydream

lost
in thought
as threnodies
cried peals
of Zeus’wrath

helpless
in a gaze
transfixed

counting down
each drowning
footstep

tread upon
tremulant flesh
yet shone anew

as our minds
fell behind
racing hearts

failing
to bridge
the frigid waters

on that day
when i long held
truth

as the subtle sky
absconded
with your song

Whatever I Have Known

whatever
i have known

in thought
through observation

has trickled
through the
hollow holes

that hearken
solstice winds

in shapes
and sounds
from profound
to mundane

demanding
their address

effortlessly
spent
like pleasantries
appeasing
pastime purpose

presently
with serpent’s tongue

through absent blessings
fed to flames
then cleft in twain

on the overhung edge
of our sanity
dissimulated

Love Most Valid

arid mist
of rhapsodic
waxing

long sought
to dismantle
the essence
only to reveal
its Gestalt

assigning
attenuous tenets
composed of pretense

to valence
resigned

but love validates
existence
through open commune
of fluid mind

with trust
respect and
shared silence

nascent intimacy
airs triumphant

while astute observation
inherently deferent
endures

for these are the matters
of consequence revered

Due Decorum

is it so uncouth to ask
for thee to stay thy tongue
and not disturb the black damask
enshrouding ablutions
for there exists no merit
to be found in such affronts
doth no one wish to hear it
underground nor in the sun
have we lost all decorum
at the cost of decency
to air in public forum
matters begging secrecy
instead we see the plague
of people primitively prone
to posting private pictures
posing on porcelain thrones!
pray not let us devolve
into unsavory savants
with thoughts left to revolve
around our basest needs and wants
one mustn’t attend charm school
to find value in mystique
we’ve no need to defend fools
when they’ve failed to be discreet
thus, i submit we gather
every vulgar philistine
and banish them to exile
to the isle of shrillest screams
for it is of their own accord
to wax on chamber pots
therefore we dare not spare the horde
an expeditious plot
of funerary provenance
for actions crude and crass
for devotees of elegance
i speak on your behalf

Promised Hours

why is it
that only upon leaving
do you voice
lament

fleeting amid
sentiments
and sudden
things to do

promised hours
perish
in a flash
of wistful
alley light

scarce
your words
remain
as token trials of hope
since lost

hanging in denial
are faded smiles
and fusty
mothballed coats

in the closet
strung like latent
trysts
listless
and long forgotten

Out of Sight…

spiders get around most freely
out of sight and out of mind
fiendishly partaking in some really
questionable crimes
some are stealing errant crumbs
while others might be playing dumb
some I’ve heard meticulously
fuss over cleaning their guns
why must they be up to no good
can’t we all just get along
it just seems odd that they should
keep trying to swipe hits from my bong
weird thing is when they become stoned
spiders have a gay old time
watching episodes of star trek
golden girls and classic vines
look out though, for when their munchies hit
they take no prisoners
trust, you would prefer not to
like Bartleby the scrivener
oh my god they’re so obsessed
with watching me all night and day
every time i start to undress
i hear every word they say
maybe if they had some business
of their own i could relax
sadly it would seem their interest
is quite honed in on my back
what i mean to say is my bum
boy, they just can’t get enough
then again, it’s kissed by the sun
chiseled, and bulbously buff
countless times have i looked up
to find a spider mid-descent
typically, they hover just
to read facebook and make comments
privacy is really just a quaint notion
it’s sad to say
for spiders reign ubiquitous
over each moment, night or day
even if they have intentions
of becoming my best friend
they might at least try to mention
this to somehow make amends
as it stands i swear on my life
they won’t rest until i’m dead
how else did my set of steak knives
wind up underneath the shed
don’t you for one second think
i don’t know of their secret club
i still receive the weekly e-mail
some of which i truly love
judging from the things i’ve read
we’d hit it off quite famously
they seem to dig the talks on TED
almost just as much as me
if i wasn’t so damn shy
perhaps i could initiate
but to them, I am just a fly
awaiting on a silken fate
they’re not like their creepy cousins
building nests from human hair
spiders spin a lustrous gossamer
to weave their webbed lair
sure, at times they might get peeved
and inflict a most painful bite
this is how most spiders grieve
their spouse you swallowed just last night
follow my advice and keep that
gaping orifice shut well
you don’t want to hear all of the stories
that I have to tell
please just feel their fuzzy fur
they’re cuddly like a teddy bear
spiders rock, you must concur
you’d better, for they’re everywhere

Rant On Usurped Offense

There is no merit in insulting others. We have no need for hurtful words, harmful thoughts, and vulgar behavior. Disrespect does not gain the respect of those who would be respectable. For every person that our words and actions victimize unwittingly or otherwise causes our consciences to devolve until we have devised our own demise. We would do best to just confess and take responsibility for our own past including every prior indiscretion. For until we do so, we are incapable of learning the lessons necessary for us to further evolve. It matters not, the company in which we feel free to thusly reveal the horrors that our hearts conceal for there is no possible way of ever knowing the personal experience of those around us which is no less real. Regardless of how well we may think we truly know them. We cannot afford to risk the pain our carelessness inflicts upon the innocent already victimized by flagrant negligence. Lest we are compliant as petulantly defiant accomplices appearing as though tyrants. Abusive words like “slut”, “faggot”, “fat”, and “ugly”, “stupid”, “bitch”, “retarded”, “dumpy”, “sloppy seconds”, “homo”, “freak”, “loser”, “sissy”, “pussy”, “weakling”, referencing things negative by saying that they’re “gay”, and generalizing specific groups from which to draw negative comparison, all of these insidiously vicious sayings cause hurt even if you’re ~just playing~ or ~just kidding~. Such offenses cannot be excused as though unwitting. Be the person standing tall who speaks up for both one and all instead of slandering these victims leaving them to take the fall. When you spew out words like “whore” you open up Pandora’s box for chances are by all accounts that someone amid every crowd has suffered from a horrid fate of which they cannot yet relate. Thier trauma once again is visited upon them distancing them further still as you insist it’s your ~free will~ and that they should perhaps just ~chill~. Well, victims more than deserve freedom, but instead, they’re shirked and beaten. Human beings perpetually defeated by a society so utterly unfathomably heedless. Their self-denounced abusers asserting with such emphasis their so-called ”rights” which they imagine to exist which tragically intend to place their offenses on those who have in fact suffered by their offenses. As though somehow it were a choice to have had lived through tragic fates that innately instill horrific post-traumatic feelings fraught with fear, anxiety, unspoken pains we cannot see, suicidal thoughts now more distraught and all of this for what? So you can validate your selfishness by disregarding poignant pleas from broken-hearted victims who now stand to suffer ceaselessly as they traverse this wretched, thoughtless universe which treats the victims as the curse and celebrates abusive verse? So you can feel so free to recklessly impose your putrid ignorance like pestilence you seem so curiously invested in? As if you’re being bested by the simplest of requests as if it inflicts any stress comparable to the victim’s duress upon the advent of associative anguish by abuse-inflicted reflex? I truly hope that your own ego is not such that you would forgo even basic kindness and concern for those who you might not know for the sake of something so absurd insisting these abusive words should thus be heard by victims already dejected and unnerved presuming that your right to speak should somehow more deserve protection than the human beings, most of whom would never cause a scene instead they keep their pain inside while you would flaunt your shameful pride. My friend, you need to get a clue this issue isn’t about you. I beg thee, please get over yourself and think for once of someone else. Don’t tread upon the mental health of victims trapped in private hell. Dare not assume to know so well the truths of which most never tell precisely for the reasons that you seem to be so much compelled to stand here and defend until the very death with all your will while victims still are made anew but all you can think of is YOU. If only you would understand these victims are your fellow man let me restate that, ALL WOMEN and since you seem unable to consider things in terms I speak perhaps were you able to see these victims are as close to thee indeed of your own family and all your friends who plainly see your indifference to silent pleas from all the pain they’ve suffered through including that since caused by you on more than one occasion too. But with your callous caustic mouth and disregard, you’ve voiced aloud the pain that they must always bear has now become a source of shame which further stifles any hope for their plight ever to be spoken which in turn allows for the abuse they’ve suffered to persist perpetually until they’ve broken.. And for now which you have as much as acted as a type of willful co-conspirator. If you figure this to make them somehow less then let us put it in your terms so you can be the bigger person which you then can prove by showing them that you refuse to treat them like they’re worthless. Society has ever shown that pain and suffering not known to others is routinely thrown aside its victims left alone. If we refuse to stand up tall while watching others take the fall we truly have forsaken all and yet we dare to have such gall to act as though we’ve any merit whilst diminishing the spirit of the hurt whilst acting as though we ourselves are bold and fearless. HEAR THIS! If you’re to know of courage, it won’t come from the disparaging of those who’ve bravely faced such horror life cannot replace and yet you wear upon your face a smirk so smug of such disgrace. Instead of wasting so much time perfecting mindless schoolyard rhymes that aim to somehow thus define your status in the social climb. It’s best if you perhaps would try to rise above the bottom line and speak to others, words with kindness in your heart not by design nor pantomiming words so cruel that leave you looking like the fool who disregards the circumstance of extrinsic experience. Of these pleas do I grow weary for they seem to breed contrary feelings from the heartless egos people cannot seem to let go. Understand that any time you place regard for others behind your own arbitrary wants and then proceed to poke and taunt them it will only ever serve to reveal your own heart perverted when such pain can be averted you choose simply to desert them. The courtesy of politesse is no longer of interest for if you hear these words and balk then i insist, you must fuck off!

Beyond the Grave

often
we obscure our words
for fear
of truths
only they hold

unable to bear
the letters
staring back
so stark and cold

still
we must express
our feelings
lest we tend
our spirit’s death

ink
like blood
begins congealing
with every
unspoken breath

none would choose
to bear such burden
from an ivory tower
of pain

shattered tears
shall heed no warden
each and every
one the same

so it is
through words
thus written
pittances
of what pervades

dormant tales
awaiting
to be spoken
from beyond
the grave

Find a Way

do or don’t
it doesn’t matter

all the world’s will
yet won’t

try your best
or give up trying

don’t deny
that both are
moot

should you stay
or should you go

you shouldn’t
have to ask
to know

that
every woman
every man
and every fate
is ever damned

for love
will find a way
it’s true
to court
the death of me
and you

I DON’T THINK SO!

 

if we could state with fearless freedom
the truth that every woman knows
the cross that every woman bears
the pain that every woman suffers

it would still not yet suffice

the silence, violence, negligence
disparity, disquietude
the destitute condition
of a desperate society

destined to repeat the past
with exigence until at last
we will have set the final precedent

we will not go gentle into that good night
we will not stand aside
we will abide by what is right
and you will comply

no longer will you have your way
you’ve had your day for all of time

before, we roared, but none would listen
now we shall arise
accept no compromise
condemn the lies
convict the crimes
inflicted upon daughters
wives
sisters
mothers
friends
neighbors
strangers
ancestors
descendants

relentless
has been your assailing
tending to your biggest failing
rendering yourself invalid
by and of your own availing

eventually, you must understand
without women, there is not man

for we live on our mother’s earth
because our mothers gave us birth
there is no other savior, sir
existence is not heaven-sent

presently our plight has shown
what all women have ever known

that thirsty eyes and empty minds
bring idle hands to victimize
the innocent
the defenseless
without the fear
of consequence

the fallout
subsequently following
their lack of self-control
to sate their whim
they spend our souls?

I DON’T THINK SO!

now you must atone

Hidden Facets

There are many personas contained within each individual’s name which reveal themselves through, of all things, anagrams. Uncovering these hidden personas is an old pastime of mine. I now present to you the anagrams of Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton.  Feel free to interpret these as you wish…


  • doldrum pant
  • mud rod plant
  • odd rum plant
  • darn lump dot
  • torn dad lump
  • add torn lump
  • plum odd rant
  • lump and trod
  • odd lamp runt
  • mad porn lout
  • odd palm turn
  • torn lamp dud
  • damn plod rut
  • mad runt plod
  • darn mud plot
  • lard ton dump
  • land dump rot
  • old rant dump
  • dolt ran dump
  • rump and dolt
  • dump lord ant
  • lord damp nut
  • old damp runt
  • darn dump lot
  • darn dolt ump
  • dump lord tan
  • pot drum land
  • mud land port
  • odd lump rant
  • dun mold part
  • dun tarp mold
  • dun mold trap
  • dun malt drop
  • dun old tramp
  • dun dram plot
  • palm trod dun
  • lynch a trillion
  • nor a chilly lint
  • archly loin lint
  • i lynch oral lint
  • horny lilac lint
  • lint i call horny
  • lit crony in hall
  • an ill crony hilt
  • alt crony in hill
  • richly anon till
  • charity inn loll
  • trill in halcyon
  • chilly loin rant
  • no thrill in lacy
  • ill thorn in clay
  • holy rill cat inn
  • a rich nylon lilt
  • lint on rich ally
  • lay rich toll inn
  • all rich yon lint
  • rally on nil itch
  • i only rant chill
  • only a trill inch
  • ninth coil rally
  • con inlay thrill
  • i can roll thinly
  • ill lynch ration
  • loin lynch trail
  • i lynch in a troll
  • lynch all in riot
  • nil to lynch lair
  • lot in lynch lair
  • ill tinny choral
  • thy ill carol inn
  • thy ill thorny clan
  • hilly clan intro
  • i thrill clan yon

Sacred Trivialities

we ride
this boundless wave

from crest
to crash
in chaos
crushing shrieks
and drowning cries

echoes
in the undertow

through waters
of an unknown quest

sinuating circumstances
tend this surface tension
tenuously

as each action
scatters sentences
in capillary sequences
of curious inconsequence

where quantum rifts
soon shift to cosmic

drifting upon caustic wake

it is in that squallish whisper
when the hands of fate uplift us

sifting through our sins

in graceless cringing
and grimaced chagrin

gravity turns inverse

severing us
from our sanctimonious symbols
and sacred trivialities

we once revered
with fierce resolve
our lives revolved
provincially
with every round

all soon found
to have been
profundity’s antithesis

arriving at the genesis
of cyclical rebound

reborn and disavowed
in distant visions
of the now

Not Even Death

when everything
is gone
nothing matters

the only place
you still exist
is barely even tangible

but you don’t care
no one cares

not even death

and so it persists

The Last Pain

fading in
and out of shadows
faces
of bizarre contortion
glaring
as a stranger’s
features
reach into
this bed of famine

trapped within
these walls
without you

terror-stricken

anxious

reeling

haunted
by fates unforeseen

fleeing
from my own escape
on paper
pouring totured
thoughts

poring over
art
distraught
in attics
dimly lit
amid daunting stacks
bearing chronicles
so unfamiliar

taunting
with disparity
the stalking stares
cast cold as steel

the last pain
I am left to feel
is lost to numbness
pitted in this hole
that was my conscience