You say I should
Respect
Your beliefs while
Your
Holidays were scheduled to
Disrespect
The beliefs of
People
Your religion's ancestors
Persecuted.

Respect is earned.

Lack of capacity doesn't
Matter
When the belief system is shared.

Lack of participation doesn't
Absolve
When the belief is chosen.

Scream this at the unhearing, uncaring, unthinking
mass of ignorance that call themselves "the faithful".

Pacifists feign high minded morality.
It's just easier to disavow violence,
than to justify the cause you fight for.
But no more worthwhile.
Homogeny and peace
Over
Progress and conflict.

Tell the dead they're right
For not having fought back.
Let Gandhi tell you that the world
mirrors the nature of the man.
See if his wives agree.

Let Martin Luther King Jr. tell you about
the merits of nonviolence
from his martyred eversleep.
Ask Genghis Khan if his legacy is great.
Ask Alexander The Great.
Ask George Washington.

The few successful pacifists
Are remarkable.
Because they were successful.

Welcome is the breaking branch,
fallen from hopes and pleasant futures.
May it land safely on the
neck of despair.

Buds of love, lust, and luck
sprout from now withered twigs,
never blossoming on trampled
underbrush.

The universe baby birds knowledge
*** to mouth
and you wonder why the lives of the wise are always so
******.
You think you’re woke but just repeat tropes created by
people selling a lifestyle that puts on trial the idea that being
standard is wild.
Kaleidoscope fractal of reality’s gaping ****** *******
wraps the goal of happiness in a cloak of human nastiness.
This crawl through life is so full of strife
that we spend the majority of it looking for someone
to moan and groan with as the bone is exposed
from the scrapes and cuts we earn when we're alone.

And I am alone.

There must be something wrong with my soul.
I’m willing to be who they want
Just so I can be who they want.

But I’m still just one
In a world of zeroes and twos
And Three Dog Night sang right about
One.

But I smile to people and hide how
….Feeble….
I feel.

Inside I am chaos and wreckage
Jealous of how happy she is
Outside I’m fat and ugly
Dying slowly with every laugh.

All I see is ***
Endless parades of
wet openings and bouncing
*******....

All I hear is ***
She says she's going to
do it…
…eat that
smell this…

All I want is ***
Memories of
tight...
tunnels and warm mouths.

ERUPT…Release…

The pressure builds....

Being near her is like summer.
Warmth expressed and mind of thoughts divests.
Beauty is defined by her, not because she wants
but because she is.

The weight grows...

When Tennyson said “it is better to have loved and lost…” he hadn't felt the weight of her loss.
And I did it!
It was me who struck the final nail in future's coffin.
Such responsibility is enough to **** a man...

Darkness downward flows...

“But I felt neglected!” he shouts at the void.
As if the hole could be filled with excuse.
Flailing without aim he drank himself to shame and burnt his soul with end’s flame.

The silence of despair crows...

Light puffs of steam
fluoresce as though
lit internally.
The public lights
always do that
when I look up
to see the moon.
And it's cold,
but, I suppose it seems colder without a smile to warm me.
The pain of isolation
reinforces that God
definitely doesn't exist.
Or, if it does then I won't feel bad if I tell it to go **** itself.
Pain just for existing
Solitarily
is a curse enduring.
The moon reminds me
Of her
Of her lack.

I feel the weight of expectation.
The pressure of responsibility
bares down
like it can feel I’m straining.
Every moment I get closer to
collapse.
Every second, strength surges in some endless
final push of effort.
A lifetime of uphill climbs in the time it takes
to shamefully look away.

Even if eyes fall
On warm and soft
Smiles

Even if fingers grip
The warm and soft
Skin

Even if words heard
Are warm and soft
Spoken

I’ll still slight the stone
For seeing only you
For feeling nothing after you
For hearing the end.
That cold and hard
Lump.
I’ll still slight that stone.

Warmth accompanies sunlight
No longer
Sunlight reveals the truth
Of isolation

The alien looks out from dune's peak
Ever shifting
Ever onward reaching

Faces both smiling and snarling
Haunt the edge of perspective
But there's no connection
No link
Not a single shred of song shared

Hardened heart’s crust cracks
Exposing the dried ichor
Of love's rampaging past.

Skeletal fingers grip an oblong stone
Cords of tendon thin muscles stiffen
A jaw set with determination
Eyes glassy and feverish

Another chuckles, circling like a carrion crow
It grips their lover's hand warmly
And sighs down at the starving man
“you'll never squeeze any blood from that dry stone”

The words uttered, shatter his resolve
He curls into that common dying pose
And waits for mercy's final blessing.

and I know who I am.
Like the clack of horns clashing,
Knows the ram.
Or like the torrent of rushing water,
Knows the dam.
Their intent expresses their character,
and their words expressed their intent.
Although they try,
the point remains
as elusive as line one.

The wisdom of age is caged
By rage
By pages staged in cultural serfdom.

The youthful burnt by truth's
Supernova
Of time and its rotten fruit,
wisdom, hah

So you find me between
The rage and the explosion.
Gritting teeth beneath pain's expressed grief.

The worst part is the lack
Of color
Vibrance…
And no amount of Giant Steps
Could avoid the emptiness.

I heard about a torture technique
Where the prisoner is placed in an
Empty white room
With only white light to see
And white rice to eat.
I think the alienation I feel
Is like a form of that.
Lifelike solitary confinement.

Feelings left reeling by simple words peeling
Back the cracked and dried scab of love's lack.

Yes I’m doing well.
But I miss you like a cave misses the sun.
I wish I had the courage to tell you.

Rorschach sounds test door lock found
watching ninetofivers run the hamster wheel.
I could complain
that would be sane, right?

Efficacy of coffee in drawing truth from words
belies belief belittling lies obvious strength.
Who are you to say “light"?
Just another dark eyed zombie echoing societal platitudes.

The days ways say stay to
the ***** of the broke brained overweight.
Hunger in the eyes sunder intelligent minds
beneath the crushing hand of expectation.

Buy me a sliver of happiness
Or was it
Cry me a river of helplessness
Memory fails snails snotting up rails
that funny ******* find with palm’s hand.

Heart burnt charcoal dark
By overheated passion.
It crumbles in
Your well intentioned fingers.

My Office

Veneer and gear cogs orbit my sky eyed bored writ
Face, fuzzy bottom trace rings masculine tell bells ‘cuz
I’m lazy, not hazy on congeniality or veneer reality.

This cube main lines fake hued bane mines and vain finds
Purchase on surface of brown turf dust or brick fur guts.

Torrential downpours of raw
Irritation.
Regret swirls with loss into
Whirlpools of rage, desire, and hopelessness.

Smiles guile miles between isles
of disconnected people.
Eyes see ******* butts ***** and big *****….
Missing hearts….
Missing the empty arms of long alone longing.
Reasons and reasons, seasons and seasons.
The flow continues and we cannot stop for what's missed.

Heart's quiescence defies hope's recreance.
Resigned to singular endeavor,
Connection's Desert Delver
decries society's conformity salve.
Bearing burns by breaking-

Ashes pile on the ground.