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
or vulgar behavior

Disrespect does not gain the respect
of those one deems respectable

For every person
whom 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 will be incapable of learning
the lessons necessary
for us to further evolve

It matters not
the company in which we feel free
to 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
amidst 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

thou 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

Please, Make It Stop

love is
a cancer

it cancels
out logic

we can’t
seem to stop it

from consuming
all

our minds
rarely consent

our hearts
inconsistent

its threat
ever constant

consigned
to its fate

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 tortured
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