Thinking about getting a tattoo
But, I take pause...
Looking in the mirror
I see my body’s already covered
Marked in invisible ink
Every inch of my bare skin
Painted with the joy and pain of living
From my heart to my hips
Color faded here, but poppin’ over there
Memories designed by your hands
Others etched on my own
A collection that makes me smile
Among a few pieces I regret
So, about getting a tattoo...
I guess I’m not ready
Because I can’t think of a tattoo
Meaningful enough, yet
To write over any of the life I’ve lived

Before me, endlessly
If that hideous fraud of humanity,
Where boredom and open contempt
Can be found ******* each other,
Spirituality inherent,
In the concrete of the parkway—
You can see it on their lips
A delicacy as they casually quip
About the quarrel of concrete and steel
Behind roadmaps and getting lost
Is a slave to every master’s destiny—
It’s obvious in the way they drive
So many people feel as though they’ve
Lived such fulfilling lives
It’s reassuring that no one on this road
Is afraid to die
We comfort ourselves on Nietzsche’s words
But such prayers get drowned out on the freeway
In the roar of busy, inward-facing cabs
Willing to maim and be maimed
Willing to **** and die
For a few minutes more,
Risking an entire lifetime
For a few minutes more
In stripmalls and McMansions
Along America’s thoroughfares,
God closes the window as he deadbolts
The door, seeing what we’d give
For a few minutes more.

I think Jealousy is a shameful feeling

A sacred pact made with
an unknown demon

A bitter resentment of a past
complication

A mirrored messiah judging
all your thinking

Tuberculosis fit in the modern human

mind

and body stained with a dark
religion

Jealousy is a monsters making

Yet, perhaps,
the most Human of feelings

n.b.

If everything was perfect
And life was but a breeze
I'm not sure exactly
How that would feel to me

If life was but a song
That we all could hum along
I'm not sure how right that'd feel
If something was not wrong

If everything was right side up
And not a thing was upside down
Would we ever really know
When the good times roll around

Can we take this opportunity
To realize what we should know
How things would not feel right
If something was not wrong

If you're late coming to this party
In the perfection that you seek
How on earth can you be happy
If you never have a need

I believe they both go hand in hand
Never travel far alone
Because right would not feel right
If something was not wrong

I feel my mediums
are more numbered than the stars
poetry is my venus
and performing is my mars
in the same solar system,
arts suspended in space
they glow, luminesce,
their light illuminates my face,
my soul, my heart, my words
in motion
like orbiting planets
in an empty, endless ocean

but I am like a passing comet
souring in the universe's pocket
I do not spend eternity
in any single gravity,
instead I shine by
many lights:
every art along my flight