They can make the chemicals for love in a lab. I know. I’m sick of hearing how unspecial it is that I exist alive with passion.
Listen. The world around me is howling and the moon is sick with our worries. We are all in a flood that wants us to sink without screaming. There is nothing in my pocket but debt and shadows and the teeth that have been knocked out of me. There is nothing in my future but cubicles and temp agencies.
Let us have love. This generation is dying. We are sweating out the innocence we were supposed to grow up in. We are all stumbling around with our hearts pounding in desperate fire alarms. We are all smothered. Let us have love.
Let us love each other wildly with our pictures of girls laughing in the passenger seat. Let us hold onto the images of our friends on the beach with sandy knees, of bonfires, of blurry drunken singing, of stopping for shakes and slurping them over bridges, of a shy look over one shoulder, of the sun setting, of selfies that show: I’m alive right now. I’m happy. Let us keep that. Let us keep proof that we are happy.
Love can be made in a lab. “Let that sink in,” he tells me. I say, “I knew that already.” So can basically anything. I want to stop questioning myself. I want to love so wide it breaks your measuring systems. I want to love her until she shakes, I want to touch him until it breaks me. I want to stop the cynics in their tracks. Everything is already so sad.
Can’t you see? Science doesn’t make this boring. Science makes this amazing. Everything that’s dancing in my head when I think of the people I love - it’s so real that they can read it in chemistry. It’s not just fantasy. It means I feel it to the very cells of me.
Let us have love. Let us have our dopamine, our seratonin, our oxytocin. We are surrounded by poison. Give us our delicate balance. Give us something we can believe.
”
— Love is scientifically explainable. That doesn’t mean it’s not amazing

Today’s the day
That we remember
An unknown soldier
Friend or family member

Who died or served
In any war
But isn’t with us
Any more
BOEMS BY JA 222

Just cuz my boss is a jack ***,
Or cuz my mom's words are slurring,

I might say I don't love you anymore.

Or I might shower in water that's a degree above committing adultery with the sun, and a degree below my blood steadily starting to boil.
I can feel everything that's ever touched me leave me.

Lemme tell ya how I can turn a come love me into a don't you ******* touch me.

If my clothes touch me wrong
It's ruined.
If the nothing I smell is wrong.
It's ruined.

I'm a touchy shower setting in a different language on opposite day, im nights sweats, an ice cube stuck on the tip of your tongue.

All or nothing.
Give it your all or you'll be Nadda.

I honestly can't tell you if I'm getting better or if I'm just running faster.
I just know that this water is turning my skin into leather.

I was down at the  legion
Knocking back one or two
When in walked an old member
Who fought in World War Two

I got in line behind him
And when he ordered  his brew
I made a signal to the barkeep
I paid for his  too

He turned and said  thank you
I'm on a pension as a vet
1100 dollars monthly
Is all the cash I get

I said to him "no, thank you"
I'm happy to buy your beer
I owe a lot to you
I owe you all that I hold dear

He said to me "t'was nothing"
"you would do the same"
"And I'd do it again"
"If the call ever came"

He looked round the room
And he sipped at his beer
Then he leaned in real close
So just I could hear

"Son, I'll be honest"
"And I don't make no bones'
"The kids of today"
"They just ain't got the stones"

"The stones to step forward"
"To get up and fight"
"To defend flag and country"
"To do what is right"

I said, in most cases
He'd hit the nail on the head
It's a battle at worst
To get a kid out of bed

The times are a'changing
It was different back then
It took a lot less
To turn boys into men

"A soldier's a cowboy
He's one for the books
There's not many in here
I can tell with one look"

"I just did my duty
No less and no more
War isn't a game
Where someone keeps score"

He sat back and his eyes closed
Said "the next one's on me"
"I don't drink that  much
But, at most I have three"

I accepted his offer
And we talked a bit more
We talked baseball, and race cars
But not of the war

That was the past
And the past is long dead
Except for the pictures
He has in his head

I went up to the bar
And I set up an account
I would cover his tab
To a certain amount

What he did for our country
And what he did for me
Is worth a couple of beer
Or at least, each day....three

The monk shows me the scar
where he took the bullet
the 70s fiery rebel
is now a Shiva-ite by faith.

I try to see in his eyes
remnant of youth’s spark
believing the fire never dies
from time now buried in the dark.

The March wind blows the dust
banyan trunks make a cool shade
in the lull he relieves a past
no way could he obliterate.

A time was I held a gun
the police was hot on my trail
day night I was on the run
in the pride of being a rebel.

Cast shadows an eerie silence
now evening could no longer wait
I wave to him from a distance
Shiva waits on him to meditate.

I look into the mirror and expect to see me,
but it is not me that I see
Well, it is, but truly it is not me
I expected to see a face healthy and full of life
Instead I see one that is ghastly and full of strife
Instead of bright eyes, hers are gaunt
Instead of rosy cheeks, hers are sallow, sunk
My lips I'm sure are of a healthy hue
Not hers, they appear to be blue
"This is not me!" I yell at the mirror of me
Then my image smiles and whispers "soon"
At this I take flight
My entire being filled with fright
All the while I hear her laughing
*Coming from within the mirror in my room

The make.
World should so;
Do? sense I pictures;
Today that.
Why doesn't paint

She change a lot
After a year, when we become one
I've always asked her, but
Repeatedly I've heard none

I knew she was hiding something
I've felt it in my bone
She refused to stop working
When I've said "woman's place should be at home"

My friends told me, to look into her eyes
"You are not looking good" they've said
Really our situation is not getting nice
She doesn't play well on our bed

To chop the ice
Might be I will find another mysterious elf
So I look into her eyes
And I saw my pity jealous self

10/08/2015
Mysterious Aries