The birds preach:
"empathy, all things
beneath the arms of oaks;
all the wingless toilers of the earth.
Turn a kind eye on your lot
and we will gaze down upon you,
And the men beneath,
so busy carving arrows
do not reply.
StonesTake your time, intravenously;
like patient stones that never try
but polish over
as other shapes pass.
Give Up, SomeOur intentions slipped quiet
beneath the door
to let love run free
in the dusky streets
like some wild killer
just out of jail.
like the taste of iron, suddenly
and soft, unprovoked laughter
[ c o l d ye llo w c ur ls ]
with love between pressed pages
like a gun in the top drawer;
there was a lioness nipping at my collar bone
but she never comes home anymore.
Per Alius NominaFingerpainted
twisted little comets
sad young things
One LessT i cks
are a consistent bed partner
not to be confused with the humming of ceiling fans
or the thrumming of cardiologist fascination
not to be mistaken for
the soft exhalation
in tangled threads or pallid flesh;
certainly they are similar
and quiet audible reactions
can drown within each other
if you listen
Arthouse FearIt struck softly; as though epiphany itself were unprepared and thus not committed to the impact - which did nothing to reduce the shock.
I was living in a studio with windows that were really mirrors that faced inward only all of the reflective surfaces were melting so that one was shown a bent, macabre version of the world within, which seemed a fitting commentary until the surfaces began to splinter and like a cannon or a child's baseball words came tumbling in with the sour air, the hollering streets and the scrambling masses; words like so many well-mannered gents into the grand opening of an art gallery in which every piece portrayed a terrified child cowering from wolves of a clearly phallic nature.
All at once with the air and the streets and the masses I could see and understood - as though the punchline of "us" had been reached and I were frozen there, in the moment just before laughter, living the lives of every bleeding heart with raised hands nearly compressing in applause
Of Poets and CosmonautsThe astronauts we abandoned
on the finite expanses of blasted white
riddled the empty with
stark black lines and sharp curves
letters built from letters and mailed home
shipped by ship to our rock
"we will not mine your pages
drinking deep of sadness,
with only these fleshy suits to tether us
to a universe of terror."
a conversation with Uncle SamWould you rather it be us or them?
I say next question please
as if to loosen the noose my tongue has become
and You say speaking of, all good things come with a price
and I try my hardest not to disagree.
Faith is the ultimate form of patriotism
so I stand up a little taller
as military jets fly overhead and baptize
the sky with their presence.
You say the best defense is a good offense.
But what about the bombs?
The fat boys and little men we scatter
with soft voices and big sticks
and You just smile that smile,
and by now I feel that the silence is somewhat appropriate.
We drop bombs because we all want to feel
a little more like god sometimes,
and what can be more American than that?
Yes, I Have a PenisYes, I Have A Penis
Do not assume (if I hold the door for you),
that I am making a statement
about your inabilities
to open the door for yourself.
If you hold it for me,
I'll say 'thankyou'.
Do not assume (if I pay for the meal),
that I am underestimating
your earning capacity
as a woman.
If you invite me out for a meal,
Do not assume (if I defend your rights),
that I am belittling
the attempts that you have made
to defend your rights yourself.
If you defend my rights,
I'll consider you human.
It Is Bad to Be [READ DESCRIPTION]It is bad to be fat, too skinny, average, curvy.
Blonde = Stupid, Black = Emotional, Brunette = Boring, Red = Soulless, Colorful = Too Creative
It is bad to be gay, trans, heterosexual, lesbian, asexual, pansexual, demisexual, bisexual, etc.
It is bad to be Christian, atheist, Catholic, Agnostic, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Polytheistic, Monotheistic, etc.
It's bad to be a different race:
Black = Dirty or Nigger, White = Racist or Cracker, Hispanic/Latino/Latina = Illegal, Asian = Alien
It is bad to be a woman, man, or genderless.
It is bad to be homeless, middle class, rich.
There is a judgement for every single person
Whether you believe prejudice people do not exist, or do exist.
Whether you believe you are not good enough, or too good for anybody.
Whether you believe humans are created equal, or not.
unthey call me tide-breaker.
my name frequents
and they speak of me
between the sailors' maps.
I am salt and brine
the oncoming threat
of dark clouds that hang
their gallows above the ocean.
I'm the enigma,
flash of light
on the sea's cusp;
they only ever think
they see me,
but I am always there.
I've seen their
their weathered faces,
that lustful thirst
in the eyes of men surrounded by water.
it is only natural, I suppose,
for those bound in chains
to grow fond of the metallic clacking.
it becomes all they have.
and I, well,
I am only here
to watch and play my part.
their wives at home
will look seaward
but it is I
who will have someone to hold.
they say mermaids
drown unworthy sailors,
but they never acknowledge
that most men simply
throw themselves overboard
at the temptation of something beautiful.
True StrengthLies Not In Body or Mind.
For physical Strength is fleeting
and will wane with age.
The Mind eventually becomes flaccid
and memories ultimately fade.
It lies not with just heroes and dare I say villains,
but civilians like me and like you.
Because no matter the situation, however subtle or brutal,
all that matters is the struggle, the fight that let you come to be.
How you weathered against the prevailing storm or the soft lapping waves,
you determine who you are.
That is true strength:
Choosing your own destiny.
Brown Eyes Compliments, and AnalogiesBecause I'm sick of people saying there aren't any.
Your brown eyes are like the deep intoxication of campaign wine, bubbling with hazing richness and expensive taste.
Your brown eyes are like the color of mahogany wood- comforting and home-steady toughness that lets me know you will be the beams of supporting me.
Your eyes remind me of Dove chocolate, smooth, creamy, delectable, and melting.
The color of brown eyes remind me of mountain terrain and nature, something subtle, but beautiful in every form and season.
Brown eyes make me think of Devil's cake, taunting and tempting, curtained by black lashes, the symbol of rich seduction.
When brown eyes delve in love, they become the color of a leather book, promising a story of loyalty, long-life, and devotion.
Your brown eyes remind me of mysterious secrets, dark to cover the pain of ignorance, opaque to cover to want of another.
Brown eyes are like the stable ground, steadier and prepared to embrace you when you fall, into a nurturing a