I've got a few friends that I can (more) tell how I'm really feeling. With them I can share the (larger) breadth of my life. They are some of the most precious things I have in my life. “Safe Arms” is about the beauty of these relationships, and the perceived dangers of a larger world.

I wrote a poem about respectability politics. A reader said, “so many broken folk who have been squashed into an ill fitting mold”. I explained further what my thoughts were. The reader then said, “seem to have read a different poem from the one you describe”. This isn’t unusual. The poet, or any type writer perhaps, can speak to one focus and the reader will pick up on another. The reasons are varied. The end result is OK, at least in the case of poetry. The poem speaks to the reader in a perfect way.

The poem “Three By There” is about a section of concrete.

The poem “Music’s Hand” is about my love of music and my struggle to create lyrical poetry.

The poem “Apply the Fetish” was inspired by a watching of the 2002 movie “Ghost Ship”.   The lounge singer, played by Francesca Rettondini, wore incredible elbow-length red gloves.  This is combined with her visually being almost the perfect woman.

“Wolves Circling” is about anxiety dreams.  These are the ones that hint at terrible matters, once thought not possible, but now given a hint of truth by repetition in sleeping spaces.

The poem “Near At Hand” is about the passing pleasures of life.

The poem “Happy Days” is about the pain of the manic-depressive cycle.

The poem “A New Deck” was inspired by a series of dreams that confirm that my life could be different.

“Coaxing Dark” is the result of wanting to write a poem that is simultaneously cheerful and melancholy.  I think I’ve succeeded.

“Final Peace” was inspired by a random thought about how tired I am nowadays.  I then realized that my dreams are full of activity, though the sum of it has no discernible impact on my fellow waking travelers.   My waking life seems to have little impact on my dreams as they are peopled by mostly strangers.  What is the common thread?

The poem “Monster Waits” is about the stubbornness of depression.

The poem “Snapper’s Prompt” is about my discomfort with the “**** photo” side of photographic world.  There are positive reasons for a model to participate in the production of adult leaning photography.   Earning a living and embracing body positivity come to mind.  In fact, I support those who are employed by the *** industry.  I instead have concern with the photographers: peddlers and purveyors of the **** photos.   This may not make sense.   I have a line of thought that helps explain this, though it is not a catch-all defense.   I also embrace the submissive side of **** while being suspicious of those who play the dominate partner role.   Truthfully, I don’t trust dominates as a whole.  This applies to business and religion also.  While the sub/dom relationship can be balanced and supportive for both parties, the door is WAY too opened to the dominate exploiting a situation.  They ask for things that they can not deliver.  Going back to photographer, they may ask for perfectly perverted beauty, but they may be plain and unattractive themselves.  Their motivations are instead the photographer’s matched *******.  In my mind, for good or bad, I see the photographer as the dominate in the relationship between model and photographer.   There can be good there (not all photographers, not all doms), but I am so very uncomfortable about where the abuses can go.

The poem “Adornment Comes” was inspired by a dream that featured an outfit with a delightful ribbon counterpoint.

“Too Deep to Hide” was written in response to seeing a YouTube video.  The presenter said that she felt that she wasn’t a misandrist because she was reacting to a lifetime of abuse by misogynists.  I felt there was some truth there.  This could be applied to some men, those stated they aren’t misogynists because they are reacting as traumatized victims.  With that said, I suspect that men are far (far) outnumbered in these respects.

The poem “Not The One” was inspired by the song “What Do You Want From Me?” by Pink Floyd.

The poem “All is Spent” was prompted by a picture said to represent Death.  The words “Reflections of time and death” overlaid the hands of a clock.

The poem “Anonymity Seeks” was inspired by a Tumblr user who used the profile description, “I feels safe behind my anonymity.  As long as they don’t know who I am, I can be whoever I want to be.”

Love is great.  Love also *****.  I need to remember that.

The poem “Patch of Ground” was inspired by a poem by Catarine Hancock with the lines “stop comparing yourself to girls like her…  you are supposed to look like you.”

The poem “Nature’s Course” was inspired by Tom Wait’s quote, “The world is a hellish place, and bad writing is destroying the quality of our suffering.”

The poem “A Leap Awaits” is about the desire to change at the times when life would assume that a settled place would be the norm.

“Ending of Memories” was inspired by a Tumblr meme.  The poem is NOT pro-suicide.  The poem, and the associated meme, speaks to the ending of memories, the ending of possibilities.  It is a reminder, and a plea, to acknowledge that an impacted life is cut short of what could be.

The poem “Rally the Jesters” was inspired by partisan political defenders.

“Scales Upset” is about the critical voices only heard in our heads.

March 9th of 2018 was National Unicorn Day.  The mythical animal has meaning meanings.  One meaning is a bisexual woman who’s open to a ******* with a heterosexual couple (or, to be precise, a couple that includes a straight man and a bisexual woman).  The poem “A Unicorn” is about dark truth and improbable nature of this arrangement.

The poem “Excuse Me” is about the vectors that can bring a soul to a dark place.  I’ve experienced all of these, but one deserves a specific shout-out.  I’m not aware of any one person who “hates” me for the alternative person I am.  I am aware of 30-40% of the population that would see me as an enemy abomination pushing an evil agenda.  Some number of those people would hurt me or lock me up if given the chance.  Is this enough to dampen the will to live?  It doesn’t help.

The poem “Worn The Halo” was inspired by a Tumblr discussion that spoke to the differences between demons’ horns and angels’ halos.

The poem “Stranger’s Bane” speaks to my involvement on social media.

Over the weekend I had a dream about being fired from work.  It was distressing, but in ethereal place there was some hope.  This is contrasted with Monday, where small anxieties bloomed in a sadly familiar pains.  “By The Small” is a dark tale reflecting the latter event.

“Giving Voice” is about the pitfalls of being an ally.  It was prompted by a YouTube controversy that featured allies to a minority group talking over their stated associates.  The talking inflicted wounds, injuries largely invisible to the allies because they didn’t have a complimenting life experience.

The poem “Narration Phrased” was prompted by a request to speak of dissension and fear in the streets.

The poem “City Gates” started out with the intent of describing adulthood in the city.  It achieved this, while also taking on a cautionary tale about gambling, temptation, or such.

A 2013 article by The Atlantic stated that “One in three-to-four girls, and one in five-to-seven boys are sexually abused before they turn 18, an overwhelming incidence of which happens within the family. These statistics are well known among industry professionals, who are often quick to add, "and this is a notoriously under-reported crime."”  My poem “The Truth Waits” is about this crippling, evil injustice.

The poem “Adjudication Found” is about the frustration of self-judgment combined with the tedium of sadness.

“Favor’s Sin” was put together from some older poetry fragments.  The end result, with many more words added to the initial seed, appears to be about the abuses of power and the eventual fall of the guilty.

The poem “Irony In” is a reverse poem version of my work “In Irony”.

The poem “In Irony” was an experiment in creating writing.  I started off with the first line and went from there.

I saw a Tumblr shared video that presented Sinclair Broadcast Group newscasters saying THE SAME SCRIPT, WORD FOR WORD.  Propaganda some?  Soviet news casting is the nearest analogy I can imagine.  “Sinclair Clones” is about the disgust I have for this situation.

The poem “Cute Where a Pill” was inspired by an instance when I wore a very sleek black pencil dress.    I personally felt quite **** in it as I tapped into how I would like to present myself and my attributes.  The actual presentation was something else.  A dear friend said that I looked handsome.  I said that I wanted to be cuter.  **** was not equating with cute, and I’ve expressed in prose the struggle I’m experiencing.

The poem “She Slept” was inspired by a Tumblr posting that included the phrase “I thought she slept all the time and woke up occasionally to post what happened.”

The poem “Glint of Life” is about the circle of selfishness.

The poem “The Whole Ones” is about dangers of seeking to be masters of righteousness and purity.  These exist only in a vacuum.  In time, exposure to the world corrupts all.

The poem “Monsters Walk” was inspired by news stories about leaders who bend the shared world to the minority view.

“Walk A Line” was inspired by a Tumblr posting about the pitfalls of passing.

The poem “Volumes to the Walls” is about the artist expressing more through their craft than they do by “normal” verbal means.

The poem “Music is the Medicine” was prompted by the quote “Music is the medicine of the mind”.    I’m not proclaiming that music is a cure to life’s travails.  I do feel that it has helped me through rough spots.

The poem “In Many Forms” is a consideration of loneliness.

The poem “Bequeathed” was inspired by the song "Winter is All Over You" by First Aid Kit.

The poem “Before Returning” is about the ebb and flow of the artist as they explore the drama of life outside of natal innocence.  The artist does retreat to a place of relative purity as a balm to the waters they share.