Posts

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Ode to Scutty’s Buns Revisited

mister scutty.

buns.

mine eyes take to sea
draped in black damask

ask, upon what merit

to what do i owe
thy fine mask of sinew

in shadowed remorse
i lay vexed

exquisite.

a freedom formed
born of toilsome task
such winsome,
this ass

grasping in folly
i falter, forlorn
this finest of fannies
far more than fixed eye
could e’er hold candle to

sand doth sift
and so shifts time

o buns of golden mote
i dote on this fire
to hold what is naught
but a phantom fandango
so taut with transgressions
in visions foretold

foreboding alabaster sheath
aglow
no, asunder
plundering depths
taste tears of sallowed vitae

were strength as a flower
this truth, seed and all
should fall as the hour
when tower doth beckon

thy buns!
thy buns!

o scutty!
skyward flesh effused
obfuscated realms of sordid sanctity

below is a shifting
uplift yea!
uplifting

muted trepidation
threat or compliance

lo, golden buns of stardust waver

o scutty!
buns that scintillate liquescent
‘neath the moonlight’s tremble

in cries of haute

wielding scepter

Posted on

dafuq?

u lol’d
at my wtf
when i told u
what ftw
really meant
2 which u said ikr
HA! and smdh
which wuz just
so totes obvi
wat u really meant

le sigh is upon me
but idgaf
y u no understand
wth i just said
imho u should gtfo

cuz yolo
idk y u crae
idc if ur bae

i’ll ttyl cuz srsly
this convo is meh
omg like (¬_¬) af

and it’s just like tfwy rofl
just don’t expect me to lmfao

cuz hm. u c i would never irl
speak such an ugh (>_<) ~werd~

though i felt u were dorbs
now i heard that u lel’d
and i thot to myself
“gawd, she can’t even spell”
their just sitting rite they’re
all these wurds
still u :)
y r u not c-ing there mocking you’re style

and your making me feel ಠ_ಠ
“i just can’t”
“r u sure”
“tbh jk”
“oic, just not coming from ur pov”

daww go ahead fam
ama just for lulz
if it’s nsfw
welp, den fml
bcuz its tl;dr
so plz just stfu
halp a kitteh
and stahp doe ∞
¯_(ツ)_/¯

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I Hazard to Ponder

fragments of lovers
burned fast
fall to ash
in this charcoaled heap
that lay afoot

this exterior
excoriated
by the nails
of their failings

but none can impale

for I only have lived
in the aftermath
of a restless memory

forged in a dream

i hazard to ponder

if love had ever surpassed
the scorching
of this insolent soul.

but all I have
beheld

is mounds of
rubble
pounding
plotting
persisting.

the sea now beckons
the sanctity of sleep
on her floor
of forgiving

through this channel of tears
from sorrows impounded

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I was never
Meant
To exist

Not like this

Listless

It should have stayed
At just a kiss

Instead
I dream
Of emptied wrists

I should not
Have to feel

Like this

Yet I remain
Waning
Adrift

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A Brief Importance

in days of dust
and clouded haze
sing silent whispers
amid resignation

where muted martyrs
beckon forth
a call to arms
at arm’s length, lost

dull, broken banter
obscuring cries
as empty bottles
fill out our fears

skies loom strewed
with vacant signs
to feed the void
of eyes so vain

the passive ardor
adorning glass
peers through our window
in blighted light

a hand lay cold
on shoulder spurned
fixed in the moment
without flinching

when dusk came sweeping
the people waned
a brief importance
then saw me home

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My Hero.

I don’t know who this wonderful man is, nor do I know who took this photograph.  What I do know is that this world needs more people like this. On a side note, as if the very symbolism of being homophobic weren’t projection enough, ya gotta love how they would feel so compelled as to actually depict this “sin” to which they are so emphatically ~opposed~, as part of their ≈protest≈ signage.  Oddly enough, judging by the dubious depiction, it would seem as to reflect the homophobe’s innermost desires… The mere thought that any person would imagine a “god” that would “hate” any person is so fucking ludicrous and disturbing it’s no wonder we’re all despondent.

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In Layman’s Days

in layman’s days
sorrow yet reigns
in remnants
of our love’s refrain
disseminating
through these veins
like silken web
to dying flame
a sallow face
of shallow waste
e’er haunts the gallows
hollow space
as wraiths in fallow fields
yet reap the harvest
of a heart’s disgrace
none can replace
the solace lost
absconded by
the albatross
e’er perched atop
the arch of Eden
bound by freedom’s
final cost
where pandered woe
bleeds disarray
sleeves brandishing
a heart of clay
turned languid
from the anguish
of exsanguination
on display

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Tripping

we experience
our own expression
subjectively

in the form of dreams

our subconscious
is the peripheral landscape

flourishing between
the diametrical opposition
of a contiguous mirror

as we stand
in the midst
of chaotic illusion

alluding to the infinity
persisting in each dimension

and that
of our existence
within every aspect
of eternity
itself

as oneself

as everything
and nothing

in perpetual states
of entropic balancing

behind the masquerade
of conscious awareness

through the cosmic filter
of relevant perception

personified

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Separation

imprisoned
in irons
of ivory’s irony

inconsolable
impenetrable

in spite of ourselves
a splintered perfection

o, splendorous winter

let us seep into the silent spring

to sing assuagence
and sate the urgent seas
with tempest

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It Matters Not

it matters not

what sinewy strength
you strut
with such braggadocio

the artifice
auspiciously adorning
your display

what conquest
you proclaim
in compensation
for your lacking

what brazen
domain
you should presume
over mother nature

what flagrant disregard
that you would show
your fellow
human

the speed
at which your steed
feeds dust
to sate your weary foes

the dubious dimensions
nor ornateness
of your codpiece

the arbitrary
shackles
in which you confine
your pawns

the clamor
of your calls
to claim a throne
by way of bloodshed

it matters not

for you
will never
be a man

without first
embracing feminism

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