If you close your eyes and immerse yourself in colors,
What shades would define you?
Perhaps carnation pink, robin’s egg blue,
A dark violet, or a wine-flavored maroon?

What would you paint with your limbs?
Authoring an impression upon the splash,
Creating a crude broad-stroke portrait,
Highlighting temperance,
Or showing something beyond the surface of spackled acrylics?

Show them vibrancy,
Like neon under a black light,
Or dark and *****,
With bokeh bubbles and lush verdant forests.

Take to your inkwells,
Lay out the papyrus,
And calligraphy fancied letters, or scribbled jargon.
Speak the words to grant you power,
Stain the dotted lines with your truth,
And tell secrets kissed between the pages.
Show the world you live in!
You are alive!
You matter!

Let your hands take clay and shape golems
Or vases to hold perennials.
Create characters in heaps of it,
Scored and kiln-fired,
Showing them statues yet seen—
Modern marvels sans marble.

Nothing can stop you,
You of stardust and magic,
You of survived tragedies and missteps,
You of overcome travesty, health scares, and suffering.
You are an artist, the truly free.

How long will you look away
and pretend it doesn’t matter?
See our world in decay,
all our children getting fatter.  
Pesticides, herbicides, aluminum in our rain!
PSAF’s in our blood cells, plastics in our brains.

Corporations chasing profits as the empire gasp for power.
The time is now to rise and fight and stop being a bunch of cowards!

A voluptuous, scrumptious, and delectable
Drawing of hunger, an insatiable hunger.

Hourglass-shaped,
Her waist pinched,
Designed to be held by sturdy hands,
Dancing dainty fingers trace
Ample mounds of bountiful, bouncy hills, topped with soft pastel pink rounds
That draws hunger, an insatiable hunger.

She lies upon a sea of red silk,
A stark contrast to her white,
Like wine and milk. Thirsty, she yearns for a taste.

Her thighs parted like petals,
Revealing the delicate blush of a dawn-kissed bloom.
Carnation pink petals glisten with clear morning dew,
Perfuming the room with intoxicating poignance,

Emerald eyes call to the distance,
A reward for his resilience.
He takes his time to crawl,
Like a hungry wolf stalking prey,
His tongue slashed through gently parted lips.

Pressed thick upon smooth, slicked pedals,
He tastes hints and echoes of her nectar,
Finding little kisses pecked to find her hooded specter.
He flogs while lapping sloppily,
A butterfly to a flower:

Draining,
Drawing patterns, 

Writing love letters,
Breathlessly.

Until his hunger is met with fullness,
And she lies spent, wrapped in red silk,
Drizzled upon her like a garnish,
Strawberry cheesecake.

We misbehave,
On the world stage
No accidents made
As we embrace
Stubble caught in your lace
Let the light fall dim,
As the colors bleed and fade.

When the crowds aren’t watching
Won’t you strip for me?
I want to see that pretty white maw
Grin like a starving wolf before taking a bite of my raw
Take a piece of me with you if it'll help you stall,
But I want every inch of your skin exposed
Won’t you show me what you never show them all?

I want to know you behind the dermis,
I want to feel the grooves of your scars
I want to walk a mile in your vermis
I want to know your thoughts
Trust in me, as nothing could ever harm us

Tracing fingertips along your lips
But am I touching a soul that sings for this?
Can I reach into your anima,
Hug the you that hurts the most
Could I be a healer?
Am I just snake oil wrapped in silver?
I want to see you naked,
Show me what’s under that porcelain pachydermous.

I want to be your provider,
A secret whim, secret insider
A sung hymn, wrapped in you like a spider
I can cocoon in this web we can stay in bed
Tangled in linen but I want to go deeper,

I want to see you weep from the things left unsaid
In the times you can’t get back
In the words you never read
Tickling the sorest soars on your back
Let me take these daggers,
Discard them with condemnation,
I want to see you naked…

We twist and twine,
Like lovers divine
But I know this time
You won’t get to hide.

So let's misbehave -
On the world stage
Everyone watching from their seats
We give into the pageantry of expectation,
Who cares anyway?
They’ll never see you the way I do.

I was once a victim,
Beaten until I was compliant,
Compliant enough to hurt another—
my mother.

I was once a victim,
My innocence used up,
My core torn from a father I could only adore.
What is hatred to a child, but fleeting tantrums?

I was once a victim,
Slipping in my drink,
Strobing long batted eye blinks,
Her heat driving down on my forbidden rod.
She told me if I didn’t, I wouldn’t make it home.

I was once a victim,
Two days before the altar,
My fiancé souring sheets with a friend who stole everything from me.
Everything bled into colorless ravines of distrust.

Victims are strong,
Not for what they have endured,
But for what they become,
Superseding the cyclic nature of dirtied deeds.
They find solace in cautious optimism, defining strength beyond measure and measuring only by their own successes.

There may be no angels soaring high or a guy in the sky,
No balrog of the deep depths or adversary king on hell’s high throne.

But demons are real,
Whispering echoes,
Phantasmagoric memories cast upon the mind by way of
scent, sound, or touch, until the rush comes to **** us up.

The truth is,
even a hermit like me is never alone.
We victims can form like Voltron,
Together joined to heal and change the story.

A wise woman on the tv once told me
“There is no fate but what we make”

There is so much more
That I want to see
All around the world
And in between

Tastes, sights
And places afar
Where ever friendly faces
And opening arms

So much more
To be consumed
This planet we're on
Is a fruitful womb

A meal a beer
A sample of the yield
Blackberry, blueberry
Strawberry fields

St. Ambrose Bees
Sweet honey mead
I want to sample
Every good thing I see!

   I am that
Western Traveler
    Indeed
   ...