Piercing Slit

twist & stick the blade in
over & over & over again
as my crimson flows down into the wastebin
I’m sure you’ll mark this down as a win

but as I remember
who I was and who I am
over time I realized
my life force has intensified by getting to know you

No, not you.
the only One can who can truly rule in this sacred land

so keep twisting if you must
I feel no pain
as long as I side with the truth, I can only gain
the power fantastic
the power to give love one more try

even as my crimson flows
I know because You
I know I can never truly die

via Daily Prompt: Puncture

Sleep, We’ve Been Over This Before…

a neverending nightmare
like a toxic case of a deep down ugly spell
whittling away at my health points in a role playing game

sleep is, once again, becoming less a temporary break from the ridiculous nature of our collective consciousness that we are forced to participate in & becoming more of a continuation of the same, that I have no control over

oh, how my dreams mock me
broadcasting my failures & teasing me with optimistic subliminal images of what could, should, happen in the future
a remote in my hand that doesn’t work
involuntarily watching what ever happens to be on

like a bird in flight snapping its neck against a squeaky clean window
it’s getting harder to know if I’m going the right way

please just let me rest
that’s all I have to say


Walking along a sidewalk, I tossed my empty coffee cup in a random trashcan when something inside caught my attention. Along the rim of the receptacle was a slightly balled up piece of green paper with a thin black sparkling strip bordering the edges. Curiosity got the best of me, not being able to stop my hands from reaching in and opening it up. In fine cursive writing it said:

In that moment, I knew exactly what you meant. Deep down I’ve always felt that machine-like drudgery of the so called day to day. You explained that it because the “so called Right Track of Life” was a futile effort, something about being a cog in a machine… You went on talking for some time.

But I had stopped listening at that point. Because I understood perfectly well what  you meant. And I realized that I wasn’t relating to it in the way you were.

 The rest was mostly illegible, due to the dirt and grime smudging the letters from an indeterminate of amount of time spent inside the can. The very bottom of the page was hastily ripped off, a section surely halfway around the universe by now.

Just above the rip I could just barely make out:

That’s why 1+1+1= 2
a single disillusioned specter with no face
1+1+1= 2, a phantom digit
Meaning you…

And I threw it back in the trash.

Assumed Straight Until Proven Guilty

It’s the Year Of Our Lord 2015 and….

Actually, before I start I’d like to preface the previous statement with, I don’t know why that matters. As if an arbitrary number pulled out of our bottoms to define a moment in Time that we can’t possibly comprehend and varies depending on which culture’s calendars you look at that are off by thousands of years from each other. We know we’re Here on Earth. But none of us really know When we are.

So we know the Who, it’s us and the others; We understand the Where; The How differs, again, from person to person but we have a basic understanding of that too, I’d say. The What, When, and Why is still very much uncertain.

So when only 2.5/6ths of our equation is figured out, it’s only natural that discrepancies & errors arise as we come to reach a Solution to the equation. What that Solution is varies upon whom you ask. Not that it matters because we don’t have all of the factors yet and nothing makes sense. Which brings me back to my original point.

It’s the Year Of Our Lord 2015 and “Coming Out” is still a thing. At the moment of this writing and when you’re reading this, seated serious conversations are taking place all around the world. One person with bated breath and nervous fingers fiddling with themselves and the other party watching them, hoping the person doesn’t open up about something that shatters their own imagined image of the person and they are forced to realize how liberal they actually are.

Whether you’re coming out as a sexual deviant, gender variant, unemployed, mentally unfit, physically ineffectual etc…basically; anything that the hairy half-dead gluttonous crinkled white male Overlords stuffed in starched suits in dark seedy rooms filled with thick cigar smoke and brown skinned servants decided were undesirable and imprinted that onto the public.

For someone who has never Come Out may not realize is that you never Come Out once and that’s that. It never stops. Every new person met is someone who has to learn The Thing about you that isn’t immediately obvious on sight, and even then, probably still has to be explained because most people are completely clueless about lifestyles that they don’t live personally. And let’s face it, maybe 80% of the relationships the average person holds is fleeting at most and won’t dig deeper than the fact that the two of you share the same favorite color. So screw it. Which is how someone can be in the closet and Out at the same time.

In The Year of Our Lord 2015, certain folks look at two men holding hands the way they would if Barney the Dino popped a squat on their yard and mashed it into the grass with his tail. A woman’s nude pictures taken in private that are leaked are far more coveted than a voluntary nude photo shoot. And speaking of nudity, the fact that nudity as a word is still a word that has even relevance!(?)

Puzzling. Being is simply bewildering and the fact that humans are still walking around on this planet puzzles me and is nothing short of a miracle. Divine intervention. Dumb luck. Both seem equally likely.

Perhaps it’s because we can’t even agree on When the hell we are that we haven’t really even come close to a general consensus on What is or is not socially acceptable.

Or perhaps it’s because human beings, as a species, shouldn’t have a formal society at all.