Let's talk for a moment about free speech.

Hello Poet, say what you will for art is free speech and expression of the soul.

Hello poet, think what you will because thoughts are free and through thought we become more and strive for greater heights.

So, I am torn and here is why.

Censorship in art?

The word *****- a female dog.
The word ****- a term for a rooster.
The word ***- a British term for a cigarette.

Offensive words yet being offended is a one to one ratio.

To censor words and art is a step backward in the artistic community, that being said this is a public site who have advertisers and marketable money making devices set in place to keep this site running...so art vs commerce...

Who chooses what gets the starred dots and under what guidelines, is it context? Is it all no matter what?

What if the offensive part of the piece isn't a word what about the topic?

The open discussion isn't to be found it's hid behind stars where meaning and emotion are often blurred.

So I can't say FcK fair enough, I'd have to say Sx or making love,  but I can't really say I got made love out of a job or I got scred out of a job.

Is there no place for raw language that is ugly and unflattering? So all art must be clean and pristine so it does not offend the mass population?

Do you know how the population got to be so big? A lot of lve making, Oh because what if someone finds that word offenve?

Do we spe* around the iue* now?

finds what *?

If is a ***** word then isn't language lost?

Words alone are not offensive, the subjective nature of the word to the individual makes them offensive, now clearly there is a time and a place for these things...you shouldn't say * in church, you shouldn't call a ....sorry a human younger than a toddler an *.

But this is an art site, a website devoted to art and free thinking, yet the advertisers who support and fund this site say that some words may offend the public and so those words must be banned...so are we * more * * *?

*

I am torn because in a place where thoughts should be free, where art and ideas are expressly told to be free and stand out, now in some way the voice of anger, the voice of radical emotions are now muted, yet at the same time...someone has to pay for this site to keep it running, and a platform to stand is better than no platform at all...but if you're going to censor the words where does it stop?

Everyone is offended by something all it takes is one loud good complaint and a word, an image, a book, a movie, a song...they get burned, deleted, blocked, censored...

I am torn.

Strange trip through time as the music I hear comes from when I was in highschool.

Currently I am 31, Korn are now an old band, smoking has been replaced by the juul and I find myself thinking when did I no longer have my finger on the pulse of society?

Do teenagers know that their culture is created by 30 and 40 year olds who know them so well that they can target their individuality and make a profit out of them?

Did I?

I was rocking out to The Cure and The *** Pistols in highschool while everyone around me was listening to the black eyed peas and slipknot and somehow I still see the irony of it all.

How detached am I?

Is youth the key to being in touch with whats happening unless you find yourself as an influencer?  

Another social term that only existed in fashion magazines when I was in highschool now we focus on Instagrams and snapchats to tell us what's what and what fashion to follow.

I'm trending on my younger self and what we call **** riding or *** kissing is now called stanning... Am I losing touch?

is this what age does or does society simply become more marketable and I fall for less the older I get?

At what point do I walk away and become old and just simply don't get it?

Age sneaks up on us and soon we forget and lose track of what's happening and soon we have a group of highschool wannabe punk *** kids laughing at us as we stand in line at the mall, wired, tired and exhausted from work but we've only got a few hours to get this last minute gift for our friend or for a babyshower and we make under what we deserve because we bust our *** and yet the house payment racks up and our manager who is younger than us by a year somehow thinks they're better than us, so we have to see these hoodie wearing smirking *** teenage brats mock us, meanwhile we can outdrink, outparty, outfuck and out run them because no matter how hard they think they are, we've got the experience to support us.

Age sneaks up and soon those punk *** whiny instastars become 30 year olds who say the same **** we do because when we're young everyone lives forever and hindsight is 3030 or 4040 but this is part bitter, part better, its part knowledge and part wisdom, it's part jaded and part self aware.

At the end of the day it's all just signs of age.

And in some ironic twist of fate, we saw each other from across the hall, it could've have been days or years- it wouldn't have mattered.

When two people who have been through as much as we have come to a mutual understanding, words are simply pointless, her eyes sparkled and we stood there and just stared at each other, the slightest sound from either of us would have sent the other into a fit, so we smiled.


Here is where we parted ways for the final time, she turned to her date as I turned my back and left through the side exit.

Something like pride stung me, but I held it back and in so I could savor my sweet wallowing and pity, I am never the victim and when I get to play the part I may as well play it as well as I can. I keep it to myself so that I alone can sup on the sweet juices of self pity, and yet I know that it wont last long.

I caught a ride to the edge of town
I took a breath and said goodbye home town, hello world.

I was getting out to get out. I was getting lost to get lost so that I could find myself, I was sick of being sick in the same place, the same town, the same faces and people, so I caught a ride to the edge of town, took a breath and said goodbye.

Feeling used for too long, feeling tired of the it all, so I vanish to the road to make a point, that life is more than what we see in front of us every day, and it's easy to forget.

I packed my bags and hit the road, losing myself so I can discover who I am and where I belong, maybe I don't belong anywhere- but at least I know where I stand.

Standing on two firm feet is better than wading through the muck and not seeing what you stand on or being so caught in a haze you can't see where you are.

When they find out I'm gone they'll see a knife stuck a wall with a note expressing my feelings and thoughts, it'll be misunderstood but by then I'll be long gone and off the grid in another city finding myself in a new job, finding out whatever I didn't know before.

Not a drifter or a sifter, not a drunk or a ***, not a hippy or running from my problems, just doing what I need to- to find out who I am.

By the time they notice I'm gone I'll be back with a new lease on life, we don't belong anywhere. We exist wherever we are, existing however we can.

Hoping tomorrow will be better.

Another sleepless night because of the break up.
I wanted to cry but I was too angry, at the same time I was just numb and a small part, some small part of me was glad that it was over.

Will I ever be enough?

Another ***** in the armor, another nic in the blade, another memory left on the field as I trudge forward without a choice.

These kind of fights could **** a lesser man- that's dramatic.
We've all been there,

Another sleepless night.

Another sting to the pride, another memory, another love gone to the wayside, wishing I was enough (for her) now I'm left fishing for love while I sit out of luck again.

It's one more battle, one more fight, it's one more bruise on a pretty battered heart, and yet it beats as strong as ever.

The river I've cried is something I cross and sometimes it's still waters while the rapids rage inside, even if I could take out my anger, what would be the point? Sore hands on a punching bag? And what if I drowned my sorrows? I'd be drunk and angry?

What if  I wrote a poem? Drove really fast? Tried to clear my head?

Would any of it help?
These emotional fire fights keep coming, it's part of being alive, it's part of being human and when we're born we sign a contract that this is just all part of the ride.

Lone soldier on the battle field of romance.

I've got one more fight in me after another fight, one more love gone to the wayside.

One down, a million down,a million more to go. This is the fight we choose and we cast our lot because it's all part of what we signed up for.

I'll leave a cross on the field for the memory and as much as it pains me I'll walk away and with every step that memory becomes a picture in a frame on the wall of my mind- summer to winter 2018-2019.

Modern romance burns hot but it burns out, and in a candle wick flicker it snuffs out.

I take a deep breath and say goodbye, I've got one more fight after this, and after that one I'll still have one more fight, until one day the fight stops and I leave the field and settle down with her who dropped her sword first and took off my armor to reveal the man.

I've got one more fight and one more fight after that.

I'm a superstar
a new god in your eyes and tv control from my remote
my every move is on your newsfeed,
I've got a star with my name on it, I've got cameras following my every step, I walk through traffic jams to make my way to your car radio, stereo, music streaming can't escape my name.

I'm a superstar.

Jaded, faded and immature,
I'm a superstar and you're obsessed so you want me more.

Give the fans what they want, feed the beast so it can become bigger.
Lights and cameras, cameras and lights and flash.

My ****** partners are endless and slapped over the front page of every magazine you see, I whisper alone in a room and the echo sends shockwaves across the world.

I orbit myself and admire me from afar as I look up to the sky and see me and a million more.

Twinkling bight, guiding you.

Monkey see, Star do.

I make your money and live the life you want but don't deserve, I have the talent and the chops to cut it where you're just average and I'm far beyond your reach, so you wish upon me at night hoping I bless with you my light and shine it on you.