Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret ,Kenya ;aopicho@yahoo.com)

On 13th January 2014 Dr. Wafula Chesoli of Mt Kenya University, at Lodwar campus in the north western part of Kenya published a scathing attack against homosexuality in the Neighbourhood, a daily circulating paper of the River Delta state in Nigeria.Dr Chesoli justified his contumelious position against human homosexuality by basing his stand on the scriptural citations of the Bible. The Bible which  Dr. Chesoli has operationally defined as the word of God in  this article that he entitled Strong holds of Homosexuality ;Biblical Persapectives.Chesoli’s argument has a depth of Biblical groundings, however I beg to differ with him in principle, given the  scientific scintillations on humanity of homosexuality from the recent researches of health education and psychology.
Firstly, I humbly remember that about three years ago I also published an article in the East African standard which harshly condemned social and behavioral position of gay and lesbian marriages. This was when the Anglican archbishop Dr. Eliud Wabukala of Kenya had in a similar tone lambasted the archbishop of Canterbury for suggesting that there was need for the office of the gay Bishop in the Anglican Church. I strongly supported Wabukala in that I even called gay and lesbian behavior as cultic and satanic hence to be condemned with all forms of capital nemesis. Some of the contents of my article in which I condemned homosexuality are here;
Let us support Wabukala stand on gays and morality
(January 13th 2011 at 00:00 GMT; By Alexander Opicho, Eldoret)
Practice of psychology and Christianity operates on a universal principle of unconditional positive regard for all. However, there has been a twist in this convention when media in Kenya at the start of this week carried a story that depicted moral fortitude of Bishop Eliud Wabukala; who has out-rightly dismissed the idea of establishing the office of a gay bishop in the leadership of the Anglican Church. Wabukala has come out boldly on this against the strong currents in support of gay marriages from his superiors in the Church. The efforts by Wabukala befit all manner of felicitation from all of us who believe in morality as a basis of humanity. The basis of gay relationships is legalistic and political. African culture conscientiously discourages a cult of gayism. And in Kenya living as a gay is living in contradiction to the Constitution. These collectively fall in an agreement with basic teachings of Christianity. Gayism, lesbianism, celibacy and trans-species ****** behaviour are admonished by Biblical teachings. Gayism is social deviance that originates from degradation in ****** behavior; it is a state of ****** depravement. Read more at;
http://www.standardmedia.co.ke/?articleID=2000074879&story;_title=-Let-us-support-Wabukala-stand-on-gays-and-morality.­
Little did I know that as I was publishing this article two percent of my friends and my family members are victims of ****** behavioural disability, which we are calling homosexuality in the above juncture. As university teacher in the departments of social sciences where student populations is usually high, I again came to discover sometimes later that ten percent of my students always have disordered ****** or gender conditions. I found these to be substantial revelations that provoked me to carry out both desk research and investigative *** socialization researches into this bamboozling human phenomenon of homosexuality and other related disordered ****** behaviours.
The order of explanation would first require a position which posits that; religions both Christianity and Islam don’t have any intellectual nor social machinery to carry out a socially ameliorative process in relation to disordered gender and ****** behavior in any society. Their approach have been and would still be parochial in the sense that the only outcome to be achieved is prejudice, bigotry and discrimination with full harassment against Christians or Moslems with ****** or gender disability. Thus religion should pave way for other competent social players over this matter.
Dr Chesoli’s Position that the Bible is the word of God and the Quran is the word of Allah and hence those with physiological conditions in contrast to the word of God and Word of Allah are satanic, only to face wrath of God on the judgment day is simply devoid of modern logic. I want to sensitize Dr Chesoli on the fact that not every thing in the Bible is the word of God neither   every thing in the Quran is the word of God otherwise called Allah. To support my position before I just explain scientific position of homosexuality, I want Dr. Chesoli to learn that; 159 psalms in the Bible are poetries of Kind David, Kind David whose leadership was full of Machiavellian tricks just like the current leadership of Yoweri Museven of Uganda. The book of Job is theatrical and poetical literary creation of Moses. But not the word of God. This is so because the land of Uz in which Job lived is pure fiction. All papyrological surveys have never established geographical evidence of this land. The last part of the Bible is made up of 21 epistles or letters of Paul the benjaminite. Paul’s writings display eminence of intellect as a lawyer and a person schooled in the Greek classics of Homer’s Iliad and Odysseus as well as Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex.The idea that the words which Paul wrote was the word of God is not founded ,perhaps the last stage of Jewish casuistry.
Homosexuality has to be understood as lameness or disability like any other animal or human disability. I am aware that Dr. Chesoli belongs to the old school which only appreciated the fact that lameness is limited to physical, mental, eye and hearing impairment.However, this position is now scientifically obsolete. Humanity is now understood to be sometimes a victim of ****** lameness, intellectual lameness, emotional lameness, racial relational lameness and other plethorae of lameness to be uncovered, courtesy of science and research.
Like the condition of ****** disability can be heterosexual disability or homosexual disability. Heterosexual disability can be indicated by misfortunate human ****** conditions like; early *******, erectile disfucntion,oversize *****,undersize *****,frigidity,phobia of opposite ***, oral ***, **** ***,****** appetite for your own child, ****** appetite for your sisters, brothers, uncles or aunts, frigidity, small ******, abnormally big ******,insatiable libido or insatiable appetite for ***.
But on the other  hand  homosexual disability are often indicated in the perverted ****** behavioural positions like male to male *** also known as gay and female to female *** also known as lesbian, or female to male to female to male *** also known as bisexuality. We also have other ****** phenomena like celibacy, voyeurism, *** with non human creatures, *** with inanimate objects, *** with ghosts and *** with spiritual creatures like the one accounted in the Bible between Mary the mother of Jesus and an Angel Known as Gabriel. There is also *** with dead family members. Dear reader just accepts that the list in this line is long.
Now labeling above positions as satanic or ungodly can be misleading in the modern sense. The motivation for all the above behaviours is sensual satisfaction. But the physiological cause of the behaviour is few and far between. Some of these conditions are caused by genetic misprogramming or mutation; some are due to body malformation. Like having female reproductive system in a male human casing or male female reproductive system in a female human casing. But the sorriest part of this human experience is that victims of these conditions always feel that they are right human creatures in the wrong body from which they struggle to jump out but they have never succeed.
This is why the Journal of Pan African Voices known as Pambuzuka news has a platform for anti – homophobic journalism, which actually purport to promote social and intellectual awareness among the Africa societies about matters relating to ****** and gender disabilities. This journal strives to minimize homophobic positions like the one taken by Dr. Chesoli in a smokescreen of Christianity or Islam which will ultimately only end up as heinous violations of human rights.
An empirical position has facts that gender and ****** disability conditions is rampart in urban areas than rural areas and more rampart in industrialized or developed countries than peasant rural based countries. Thus logic will tell you that we have most gays and lesbians in America and United Kingdom than in Kenya or Malawi. This is why President Barrack Obama in an imperial stretch conditioned the govermenent of Uganda to make a legislation that favour gays and lesbians. This was also reflected three years ago in the United kingdom when David Cameroon warned the government of Ghana that if they don’t make a legislation that appreciate homosexuals then United Kingdom would not give economic aid to Ghana.Contextually,both Cameroon and Obama were wrong. We don’t use vents of desperate imperialism to manage a misfortunate social condition. We first of all begin by educating our people, then socializing the idea among our people then we finalize by positioning the idea among our people. Thanks for your audience.
Alexander K Opicho, is a social researcher with sanctuary research agencies in Eldoret, Kenya.He is also a lecturer for Research Methods in Governance and Leadership.
Karijinbba Jul 2018
I STILL EXIST- I STILL EXIST
My pen writes
I still Exist

and an empty feeling engulfs me
I am painting a purple tree
I tell my family counselor
That the paint reminds me
Of arsenic Greek cheese dust
That a human predator
two faced fiancee
placed on my green salad in 1976
He said he would teach me how Greeks killed with love at sea
Then kindly offered
To bring
breakfast and lunch
for me in bed
(Ladden with poison)
While I ate it he danced Zorba the Greek!
His jealous raicist medeas mistresses knew his past crimes
I didn't I was very naive
his superstitious ignorant parents twelve people  asked him to Get rid of me baby and all

Overdosed with pitocin for a cow
giving birth was a torture
then blood thinners
were added to slowly
end my life
A hate crime because I a sub human born in Mexico not Greece
The poisons caused
a chest malformation of my daughter requiring surgery
later in life was mis-diagnosed
as pectus scavatum
but I knew better it was
attempted ******
a chilling secret I was so ashamed to reveal

I did escape my kids and me
we survived  the memory
of my true love's loving ways
In America saved me from certain death there I was 75 lbs
When I escaped Hell
Greece
But salads gave me
Nausea through the years
I could never recall why

Painting gets my mind
Off painful memories
resurficing examining my life understanding me and others

I have many regrets unwittingly
my loving innermost feelings
remained trapped inside
and I lost my true love
in my dead calm silence of pain
Foolish online Ink
One involuntary bad deed
In Veracruz
Two SAD songs

My shrink says I have a beautiful
Soul a relentles spirit
That I managed to do better then
Most despite hellish adversity
A childhood marred with
heartbreak a trail of
Graves tree stumps
Coffin and treassures
Spirit breath of life and death
  
My hybrid race was secret
Poverty lack of Rhogam
My father the Apocalyto
Hero killed by MEX Feds
Who stole my Land
We are indigenous
Purhepecha tribe
The enemy of the Aztecs
So me my father's little queen of the forest his STAR could
Fly high and zoar
He was the love of my life
My dad David

A few days of effexor RX can bring about amnesia to block old kidnapping memories of turture resurficing unsolicited
Effexor to stop tears
regulating serotonin disrupted
After a car accident with traumatic head injury concoussion brain swelling so much that falling asleep for three months was impossible

MD prescribed just a trial
few warp eight mind bending Effexsors serotonin reuptakers
For only fifteen days
Half of thirty seven mg
Tears stopped immediatly a calmnesss
self assured old me demeanor
re-emerged I remember the arsenic and blood thiner injections the faces of sadistic jealous women but it didn't hurt

But soon my heart began to speed up so fast I could hear it beating in my ears at lowest dose

so the higher dose was not allowed.
Side effects if used longer than six months could make the
face to twich! who needs that!

So therapy ended slowly redusing small to smallest dosages for fifteen days
treatment ended
Don't like messing with my brain

Today I enjoy simple pleasures
echos born like me in
In the atlantic mystery

family time my lifetime best
best lover best Mother
nest friend to me myself
Remembering those few
Souls
Who deared greatly
their wisdom and foresigh to bet
On my future my light myself!
my father's little
Queen of the forest tribute to
My Once Upon A Time
True love his love songs
His poems quickening me
Awaking me
He was the love
Of my life my true love JPC/RC

He showed me he loved me
But he never could "tell me"
He loved me all my fault
Thinking back not ever
any other man told me
he loved me one or two boys wanted something from me freely given or taken by force from me
I didn't want them at all
No person growing up
Ever
Told me they loved me and most showed me my life didn't matter
many of my civil rights were violated throughout my life by thugs hainas had more charm
Only my father David San chez
and later my adoptive Mother mommy dearest told me once she loved me showed me she cared.
My children tell me and show me
They love me
Sometimes they hate me too
sadly they are under the spell of deadly sterile drug user enemies who assassinate my character lie and slander me to my grown daughters and I have now become estranged until they figure all out on their own so they learn to fight woolves in sheeps clothing and understand treason
and ungratefulness towards their own mother
There was only one man I loved
The MOST on this whole wide world
His ink scripted love remained the good intermigled with evil
Forever a part of me
My Lord Shiva my first teacher
My sage my guru
My Lancelott
Me  first love my last love
my tree of life he was
The only man I ever loved
and lost
Looking back
I thank G** King Jesus
King Arthur
And few other men who
Traveled in and out my door
Only one had my lock's key
I am glad you came along
I sing this last song
In memory of all the good
The bad and very bad
The few nefarious vipers I kissed
I forgive you all forgive you me for NOT
Understanding you
For loving those fellowmen
Who didn't know how to love me back
I wave my last
Good bye
I
Will
In your light and my own
Pray for you and me

As for the love of my life
"You are like a prayer
In church to God"
"I remembet you,
as someone something
VERY DEAR and precious"
You were the Best
You touched my STAR
And my starry skies sparkle
With your light remember me
in the same light my love
Look me up with your telescope
When you watch the stars
From your sun roof
In your bedroom

Find my Aries Constelation
For there is
My home
Without
You
I've taken with me a piece
Of Veracruz
A Mothers Day surprise
at the Hilton
raised in your arms on a warm June at a  bar
Where i felt like a bride
your bride

I almost asked you then and there to throw a big party
for you and me
But the monastery's dead silence
Growing up isolated
Silenced the spontaniety
Of thought you required of me
yet again!You regressed me you
tried in so many ways for me to
tell you  "I love you I am sorry
I'll marry you!"
All over again
I adored you remember this
Always.
Look me up with your telescope I AM
in The Aries Constelation I am Aprils daisy Aries diamond a
Yelow Self Existing Star says the Tzolkin Star Seed
Galactic seed always flowering....Enter me
Yours Always.
~~~~~~~
Revised 11-29th-2018
Excerpt from my memoir
auto biography
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
JC Lucas Nov 2014
We seek love because in love we are validated in our perfect flaws and exactitude of malformation and in love we are given reason not to hate ourselves for the things we see are wrong but cannot change even if we spent a millenia in an instant or infinite instants in eternity struggling to shake off the shackles of our humanity which is both our captor and liberator in this,
life,
yes we recognize its importance in allowing us to be but we spend the congregation of moments we are given in that holy being damning it, for it also makes us imperfect and in our imperfections is the capacity to do harm unto the world which we love so much,
and so,
we equate these imperfections with evil and seek to expunge them with all our might of will and all our cleverness of wit and all our screaming and pounding and passion of
soul,
but it is all in vain for these things which we despise so greatly are joined at the sutures with our very being and hence have many good but troubled lambs of the internal apocalypse chosen to end that being for sake of ending that malformation, though they know this is wrong, but it is the only solution in trying to remove the weight of one’s existence and hence the weight of existence from one’s mind and so they sleep easily,
unbreathing,
unknowing,
and having completely cleansed the burden of themselves from this immaculate and gorgeous universe which they love so, but they are also
unloved.

And it is in love that we are validated, both in our perfect flaws and exactitude of malformation,
it is in love that our weight on the world is not lifted, no, but counterbalanced and nullified,
and in that way,
we are set free.
Dandy Dec 2013
I’ve filled all of the balloons
with cigarette smoke instead of helium,
just like you asked,
and when the children come crawling,
peeling themselves from pavement,
we’ll take needle-points to latex
reshape their tracheas into factories
Soon our home will brim with smoke rings,
I'll place a finger to them
only to ruin the perfection produced by small lips

Thumbs are to erasers as tears are to pencils
I swear to you I try to keep within the stencil
but saltwater weeping, shallow breath, and tobacco smoke
don’t seem to stay within the lines as well as I’d hoped
If I had another way I’d draw terrible pictures,
stick them to the fridge and insist “mom, take it with ya”
                                                  
I’ve been ripping out dictionary pages and
nailing them to various foreheads,
yowling, “we need knowledge, we need verbal expression!”
Though, I don’t believe I’ve made much progression
because a woman turned to me today with a
business suit on her back and a chewed up heart at her feet
She fastened a note to the top of her skull that read:
“ignorance is bliss” then she waited for a car to bind her to the street

DDD                                                ­                                                              *(3­/14/2013)
entropiK Feb 2011
i tried to eat my whole heart raw once.


but i could not stomach it. could not stomach the noxious ventricles down my throat, could not swallow the bollus of unfleshly pink carnage.
so i broke it into pieces and i blamed you instead, because it seemed easier to say you broke me than to say that i ever loved you.


i.

this is how you broke me :

whenever i thought of you ******* her i would think of dying inside.


dying is a blessing.

dying is the movie that i am too young to watch but too old to resist. dying is divinity, it is paradisical death in slow motion, an entity mushrooming in between the eyes of a decaying rabbit. it is tears being ****** back into the eyes of a small girl, legs apart, ***** ripped, the fruitlessness of futility bleeding out like saliva from a mouth. dying is being idle, dying is being able to think without questioning existence, dying is a moth, paled by smoke.


it is that tuesday night i promised myself i would never write again
if all i wrote was about you.



ii.


this is how i broke myself :

whenever i thought of you dying inside her, i would think of *******.


******* is a blessing.  


******* is the reason an orchid can sing without a stigma. ******* is the malformation of your tongue when you say " i hate myself, because i hate you, but i hate you more. ". ******* is about three blocks away from love. ******* and love are probably secret **** buddies. ******* is saying you love her. ******* is saying you love me. ******* is that heart-shaped bruise that you left on my wrist, that tuesday night you ***** me and called it love. ******* is telling me i am not her.



this disposition of 'her', the realisation she plays a better 'her', than i play 'her', the realisation that she stole 'her' from me, when'her' was a dream both of us  could hope to fake.



iii.


why people are kept broken:

you once told me, while ashing out a cigarette on my neck,
*"it is better to stay broken so nothing else can ever break you again."
...
Longing for clouds in shallow ground.
To go back to the place i was found.
The whispers of wind crossing my breath.

In every instant I can see the clocks turn.
Have i come to myself to learn?

In these times of cloudy days iv learned to frown.

Become a clown...
Cover my face...
Live in secret....
In a nightmarish place.

Its all i can do to survive in this space

There is no grace in this empty place
No space.....
No space at all....
In this empty place.

Looking back threw the pages I awaken the memory.

I live in my thoughts in an enigmatic place.
Not clear where the others are.

Its all i can do to survive in this...
There is no space in this empty place.

No space....
No space at all....
In this empty space.

In dream my reality is delusion...
In walking my delusions are dream.

So cold of dreams I welcome to finally fill.

The chill has become so sharp I cant take this part.

Its all i can do to survive in this.....
There is no space in this empty place.

No space.......
No space at all......
In this empty space.

Have i come to myself to learn?

I have to face.......
that someone else needs to fill that space.

No space......
No space......
In the empty space.

Not clear where the others are..... I have left that place.

Left that place......
Left that place....
That painful place.

Clouds in shallow grounds.

*Living with Chiari Malformation, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS) and Dysautonomia
Bianca Reyes Jan 2016
There's been a miscommunication
Between my heart and my mind
Electrical impulses at every synapse
Scream your name in adoration
In every neuron they will find
That there has been a collapse
It's caused by my love for you

All that I know to be true
Is that there has been a malformation
A terrible replication of some kind
The one that courses violently perhaps
It fills my mind with all this information
To all else I've gone blind
A neural take over that I can't surpass
Because my body knows that I love you
Written and shared on Hello Poetry on January 19, 2016. Copywrite under Bianca Reyes. All rights reserved
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
He stands solidly still, a malformation
Rush hour commuters about him whirl
Arrival or departure in subway station?
Intrans intelligence, subconscious swirl
Isolated, his mind in  most violent hurl

Facing whole extent of impertinent data
Comatose commuter suffers info slow-mode
Wife, boss, kids all part in sub-matter
Too much for one brain to devour, decode
Cell phones, microchips, transistor’s overload

Components lack tactile connection
Wavelengths of broadcasts, meltdown occurs
Keeping too connected, causing mind ejection
No app for that on tablet to refer
Now stuck in commuter rut with no transfers
Are you a comatose commuter?
God slips from
tongue as phlegm
from lung post-
cigarette

back to back
reel to reel
sitting *** to heel
palm to palm

praying

I've spent paychecks
laying pavement
into bedsheets
bearing teeth

biting holes into
free time
me time
with myself

waiting

twenty one years
stacking unread
newspaper new with
news not bothering
with digestion

to treat the text
as words on paper

*******
transfiguration

sight unseen the
sight of me in
chapel pacing through
Peter as though
for penance

God is meant
a friend to
comfort but
recently its
felt dishonest

a masquerade
a malformation
Portions of this poem borrow from the poems "Back" by Christian Wiman and "Reel to Reel" by Alan Shapiro, as well as the song "The Transfiguration" by Sufjan Stevens.
My Wings Fail Mother Nature.

In my world the sun always shines behind windows tainted....  the color of pink curtains draped threw its rays.

Someone take me away from the darkness ....I succumb.... feels so dark.

The walls that contain me are to keep me safe..... with its  dry stale air.... artificial  light .... keeping me from flight.

I need the light...... not just any light... one that shines a special way.....down on our  oceans, sees and bays......the one that shines on the wild.......it defines my purpose so I do not decline.

I miss my mother....... Mother Nature was always able to sooth the pain in my brain..... encourage me to dance.... to sing along.

All this eases the constant shame and for a moment I feel I belong..

She showed me many things  Id never had known on my own.

I learned to swim with her  fish and run with her deer....... she taught me to feel so much,  such love in her heart, she taught me to speak without any words and showed me many of natures cures.

I became addicted to her drawl and now her loss is causing a withdrawal......... like a drug screaming for my all.

Now I have to rely on man...... a concept not to familiar to me..... I suffer in his hands..... suffer so....why cant they just let me go.

Man was the only creature my Mother could not tell me of........ I was only told I was different.... Not like them.....that I would see.

God...I beg to walk in her grass ...dance in her winds...run in her rains...and feel her healing hands.
"I can't get up!"

I do not understand, its not all about this pain.....it is bearable at times when i try real hard......so why can't I get up.....work or play?

I just sit there so quiet as to not even think......?

Can't get up to just sit in the sun?.......... there is nothing left but man out there?.....

Its just "not" the same.

I really do...... as strong as my heart can want to go..... but my legs tire... I can not run.... my wings, to just lift them....how heavy they fell.

I am afraid now as the times I have run well..... in... "deceiving me".... my wings still failed.

God....I can take the pain....all the pain you can give.....It's taking my Mother  from me I can not stand!

I am not meant to sit here and dwell, I do not deserve to be in hell.

To many times I should have died...so many times I just tried.

But you still forgave me.......... I question why....this world is hard and I don't belong....

I cry so hard...for being barred....with absolutely no regard ....such tears I cry knowing  how easy it is for them to just discard my life.

What shame I feel deep inside....

I keep looking to be rescued for a hero to come...but  ....no hoof stomping sounds ......No white horse on my  drive...... it always stays predictably quiet.

I don't think I trust man or ever did....I think they have forgotten me trapped in here trapped in this land.

I don't think I'm going to be rescued or swept away.....I don't think I will ever be that miracle in....

....I am just one of the forgotten who hide inside....no one to speak of...... as they shut their eyes and cast their own lies in order to survive.

I guess no one can lift me from my pain.....no one cares I'm not there......so it really doesn't matter....as if I cared?

I care about my God...My mother and the few that understand....the ones who have helped me because they just can.

It is ok they laugh at my neck in a noose..... its been always abuse.

Never did I disbelieve in you father...... even when I turned by back in anger and said I didn't agree.

I have faith there is reasons for me to be the one...the one to hold the brunt of the pain.....make me responsible for others games.....make me suffer in another name...take on all the shame.

I can accept this but I beg you now....just give me back my Mother somehow.... I promise to move on from this and make you proud.

But my wildness is somehow...more important to me than I could ever tell.................my silent words.....  my language she knows.....just get me out ..........tell me my job is done.

I do not mind dying alone, but until then I need to go, there are things I need to do....people to touch and show the way.

I can not do this when my light is dark....please release me so I can show....that my life was worth this great big show.

I need to stretch my wings and fly again.....forget those who tried to steal my glow.

As long as you and I know who I am....your love will help my wings expand......so I can sore high above our land.

Please let me see my Mother again.

AL

*Living with Chiari Malformation, Ehlers–Danlos syndrome (EDS) and Dysautonomia.
Edward Coles  Nov 2013
Clarity
Edward Coles Nov 2013
Love is not the scrawl of notes

left on the bedside, whilst

the alarm clock suffers to clouts

and rings, awakening her.



Neither is love the aperture

between silhouettes

as they embrace so readily

against the walls. Some clinch

of absence, the antiptosis

of the you and I.



Love is not the spaces between

the ‘I miss you’s’ and the

‘here we are once more’s.’



Neither is love the separation

between our wants and needs,

to the disparities in the world.

It is not the defiance of obligation,

nor some holy rest-house

to the ills of the modern world.



Love is not some shared novel,

a story born out over a communal

conjecture of where humanity shall

rest upon the end of everything.



Neither is love the offering of a rose,

or any other bouquet of severed

life, strangled for the nourishment

of her; the justification of your

placement in her life. These are just

condescending gestures,



weak offerings to the Lord

of all you claim to be divine.



Love is not a life to be feasted upon,

nor is it the self-satisfied glance

in the mirror, as you finally decide

on your definition of ‘I’.



Neither is love this malformation

of words, this attempt of veritas,

this hollowed pursuit of whiskey-fuelled

longing, longing, longing for

some great hand to deliver life

upon my doorstep, upon our’s.



Love is simply the eternal rite

of Gaia; the motes of existence

that tumble with great devotion

and all-cause to their eventual demise,



their inevitable return

to the spiral that created them.



Love is the spaces between my breath,

between your’s.

Those pockets of meditation,

and the realisation of union

between all that was,

and ever will be.



Love is the acknowledgement

of power between us. Our previous

lives, blades of grass wilting together

under the footfalls of the now-trees,

the now-governors of our lives.



Love is in the ‘I know you’s’

and the ‘what would I do

without you’s’ that we have so struggled

to forsake in the day-to-day

tumble of our lives.



And to this, I say, that love is

these spaces that you may

no longer occupy. The barren stretches

of grey matter that no being either

mortal or otherwise,

could ever reclaim.



Love is the birth of bespoke experience,

and the knowledge

that nothing can erase us

from the archives of

everything that should ever matter.



Love is us.

— The End —