i am strange, i
am not real.

i
am complex, simple.
i

am
important,

interesting,
unexpected,

and (
next to nothing
) the most

significant unit in the world

i!
is something poetic,
and especially not.


i am one – no
i am the root of one,
negative one.

I added my date of birth to my profile.
It updated.
Next to the numbers is a "-" reminding me it could be over in a dash.

all form is ugly
all human form is ugly
humans are ugly

all that’s terrible
is man’s inability
born from vanity

A single matchstick
is all it takes to brighten
the chaotic dark;

but it takes nothing
for the darkness to feed on
and consume our fear.

°•°

In all of our eyes
is a tiny bit of light,
big enough to see.

In all of our eyes
the pupil's darkness is void:
central to all light.

•°•

Man created fire,
and he brought light to the earth
to fill night's darkness.

The man who knows fire
gains a fear of the unknown:
the dark he forgets.

°•°

There is no darkness
without light. To see darkness
you must have sight: light.

Pride
Feel your collarbone;
it means progress. You don't want
to ever stop feeling bones.

Vanity
Don't you look pretty
compared to that fat slob you're
staring at? Yourself.

Gluttony
no more strawberries
blueberries, fuckberries: ALL:
give me everything!

Wrath
Violent heaving death:
you deserve the punishment!
Blood, bile, cleaned off smile.

Envy
Every pretty girl
is skinny. "Beautiful?" No,
he'd never mean me.

Sloth
I'm exercising;
not eating.       "IT'S NOT EASY
TO BE THIN LIKE THEM!"

Lust*
I must have it: be
skinny, be skinny; don't eat;
that *has to be me.

I cannot fathom all my love for you.
Know, no knowledge of what's real is easy.
I try to give you all my heart in true;
will you accept my words, my heart, thus please me?

Not I, not you has all the answers now.
Marry! I cannot believe this passion:
you love and hate me with one heart but how?
For love is simple hate in simpler fashion.

You kiss me kindly, lacking any strength
(lack any vulnerability in that).
Kindness is not love to any length;
In love we're rarely kind. A lover's spat,

your bane--my kindle--falsely represents my
heart. Are we truthful when we fight; and why?

A dandelion
is first or last a puff of
God's made universe

Last night I saw you
but I was asleep.
You were blushing,
rosy-cheeked and almost mine.

You looked like liquid,
but were pointed
and everything came back to your eyes,
which I know well

although
i do not know
the color of them.

I wanted you
but you were liquid
and pointed
and I could not have you.

I want something
burning. teeth
        \/\/
give me sharp teeth.

make me a *******
panther. lying
is the only way
to say how you feel.

give me a punch
goddamit,
so i can punch you back
with my ******* forehead.
give me something that smashes.

give me drums baby,
electric guitar.
give me blue, the color and the sound.

give me calm
only
after i make

a ******* ruckus.

i fall for girls from the fall,
mostly ladies with letters of their names
in the middle of the alphabet: elemeno peas.

O'er scores of years and hundreds more we sing
the song of lady liberty across
land and shining seas where freedom rings
of strength in overcoming all we've lost.

The boys in green died camouflaged as men;
free to fight, they fought for freedom's rein,
and liberty and justice galloped when
the wind that raised our flag then sailed the slain

home: where the heart and Stars and Stripes were sewn
of nation's loosened threads of flags and sails.
The final folds undone as taps is blown;
brave souls are set to sea beneath its flails.

United by our rights, and one of which
states: "all men are created equal"-ish.

The most impossible thing just happened.
A butterfly was flying around my room.
It’s 1:00am. I live in New York City,
on the 31st floor of an apartment building

No windows have been opened.
When I caught him, to let him out,
he died, or seemed to die

but really, he was just a moth
looking for the light.

But how did he get in here?

boom!

volcano,

i do not trust gold
that is hard to sift through –

**and neither should be art.

As men we are afflicted with two heads,
with one of logic, one of sordid lust,
with one we shoudld obey, and one we must,
for one is physical in thought, one not –
thus each reacts when love appears ahead;
both heads will grow, but one will fill with thought,
and though this head may seem in one's mind grown
it's rather love has logic overthrown.

The other head is true to feel and size;
it fills with blood and reaches open-eyed;
it hopes to join a lovely place: to fit,
and makes it known by pointing towards her..."it."

While one regards 'made love' as one to find,
the other is emotionally inclined.

apathy is useful
when recalling insults,
people who dislike you,
and upsetting situations

because then you remember –
i'm too uninterested to spend my time,
effort or thoughts

caring.

[(x⊃y) · (z·x)]
/∴ (x·y) · z

1. (z·x), you simplify
2. x
3. z
(more simply)
4. x⊃y, you simplify
5. y, by 2 and 4, MP
6. x·y, by 2 and 5
7. (x·y) · z, by 6 and 3
QED



*


TRANSCRIBED:
If ‘x’ then ‘y’ and ‘z’ and ‘x’
it follows that ‘x’, and ‘y’, and ‘z’.
One, ‘z’ and ‘x’ – you simplify.
Two, ‘x’;
three, ‘z’
more simply.
Four: ‘x’, then ‘y’, you simplify.
Five: ‘y’ by two and four M.P.
Six: ‘x’ and ‘y’, by two and five.
Seven: ‘x’ and ‘y’, and ‘z’ by six and three.
Q.E.D.

a beauty out of my league*
To show desire's poison, for our sake
she'd wink and make us think we stood a chance.
But sweet as honey, April, seemed to make
every hopeful guy compelled to dance

for her. We were her loyal worker bees
and she the queen would reap the floral sweets.
I caught a sight within a balmy breeze
of April's flowing hair in tempting heat.

I stood away where blocked behind a fir
I picked a daisy from the soft green grass;
I never got the nerve to talk to her,
too stunned and shy I let the moment pass.

Her sight is so compelling, sweet and mean,
It taunts my curious eyes in blossomed green.

“God,” I said, “what do you want me to do?”
“Child,” he said “whatever you want to do.”

“Satan,” I said, “what do you want me to do?”
“Child,” he said "whatever you want to do.”

Tomorrow you will be my lover.
Tuesday I will love you.
Wednesday you will love me.
Thursday I will not love you.
Friday you will know.
Saturday you will leave me.
Sunday you will love me.
Monday I will love you.

there's a secret unspoken and we both know it
's broken
it's the burning in your ears, or ringing tinnitus
responds a bird singing to invite us
to recall who we are, each
meant for the beach, better together,
in troublesome weather,
and when you said forever i got scared and left and fared
worse off, until i got caught
just kidding i did not

brothers

summer love*
Simply in the sun-warmed grass all day
we'd sit, and talk about some useless ****.
And in my jeep I drove you to the bay
to watch the sunset while we shared a bit

of wine. We laid down in that cooling night;
I watched your gentle lips move when you talked.
I told you that I never felt as right,
as when we kissed. My fingers interlocked

with yours; I brushed your beachy hair away
and shared a kiss that may have been our last.
I held you in my arms until the day
peeked through. We knew the sunrise soon would pass

like this. And though we think it isn't fair
departing is the summer's balmy air.

Out on the cold
The radiator hums
Awaiting results

silence doesn’t have a sister to sit with,
alone on an island all of us
want recognition and none of us give it
or give a ****, then all of a sudden all of us
giving a ****

This thing i’ve found is wonderful
although i don’t know what it does;
it sort of makes a funny buzz
on every time i push or pull.
It’s stringed, and latched with purple fuzz
which smells like dripping, mildewed wool
which makes me think of when it was

appropriate to run around with kites
on beaches and to throw down bikes,
and not to care, and not to write.

<cloud>>>                                          cloud >>
                                          *sun
<cloud                                          cloud>>
wind>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
^umbrellas>>>>>>>^umbrellas>>>^umbrellas^>>>umbrellas^umbrellas>>^umbrellas^>>>
people>>>> people *******>>> talk people everyone sun >>>screening up spray me, read this>>> *******>>>, some are finding it, but words yelling up over the sound of the wind>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><which aways <<<<changes direction>>>>>> <<<< <<<< <<<< <<<<
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<>>> <<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>v <<<< <<<< <<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>but time always goes forward | for us at least.

Apathy untangled
with a disgu sting sticking to my
mouth(
probably from the alcohol)stinging my throat
which wants to sing, and no no no no I won’t
punctuate, fluctuate, or be
bee be-
cause i’ve already been
stung, wrung, and hung
and I’m still not dry.

it could not be sin
to love the beautiful on
earth – but these women,

spontaneous spawn
sprung of wonderful flowers,
make me double take

and heed to powers
beyond strength for curious sake –
when i look again

i ask, why nature
is teasing slow-moving men
with a halting cure

to hopeless ails of seeing kind
with flowers walking through my mind

becoming and unbecoming,
trying to wait and waste
time away from doing
the necessary objectives
life is the same
sim sam, tim tam see saw
whether you don't or do,
just make sure you check
the weather before you go outside
and always confide in the 1 u <3

be content with soup
contend w/ soup
can't end with soap
can't eat a stoop
what's the scoop
loopdy loop

Before it strikes, Life, sing.
Life, live right wing, left wing,
anything. Let a leaf
fall furiously slow,
don't let an old friend go
without an "ohhello!"

Oh, hell, no you don't
exist, except twist-
edly. Feeling bed-
ly: badly, bed-rid
another madley

of garbage.

bless me with soft hands
pressed to impress lasting warmth
not just on my skin

Bluntly, you
are country-
bumpkin,
eat a pumpkin,

yams, and an
order of deli hams,
underdone just for fun.

Afterwards, give the
rats the words to
eat the leftovers.

Ask me about my

conch shell, go to hell,
unless of course that suits you well.
Never mind, now it's
time to quiet down.

When nothing else
                                                inside you
matters except
                          getting him

that’s passion in a bub-
ble:lust. blushed.
And all he wants to do is bust
a bubble.,;                                                  ******­

I think I have control by now; I know
you want me to instruct you how to love.
I lack the tools for idleness; I go
crazy when you weigh yourself above

me. I know you’re in the rink – I know you are!
It’s just my paranoia’s acting out,
and then I call you twice and go too far,
that’s just a macho, jealous, loving bout.

But still you love my fighting tender thoughts,
and look in our shared corner when you’re scared.
But then the jitters, stomach ties in knots.
No gloves came out each time an old love stared.

I do not care for who you used to love,
keep razor blades tucked in my boxing gloves.

hello baby rat,
have you come to eat my food
and cry when it's all gone, waaaah
with a sharp tooth on each end
bend the rules
a bit
and let me take a ****
"you're
fat" you say

for ego
and space
and trying to scare you into thinking
i will punch you in the *******
face

I’d love to give you truthful sentiment.
You’d take it as a ******* line again.
I’d love to lie to you to get my way,
and then reveal (magician-like) intent.
You never thought I’d have the ***** to say
not one thing of “I love you” (or the same),
but I avoid this loving lying when
you don’t believe me – think my words are lame.

You will not share in my false love, but I
can trick the brain, the heart, the lover’s eye;

though I refuse to play this trick on you,
though faking it is something we both do.

Together Lies and Love live in a home,
I doubt that Love’d survive it on his own.

Oh jeez, is pleasing
I
could ski down those slopes yo-
u
call eyelashes. Stuttering with my e-
y-
es. As your butterfly eyes, fluttering my
o-
h, my. I’ve never caught a butterfly, but
o!
once one landed on my hand, and
I
guess it's about timing
&
once & placement.

the pressure in your eyes
every time you chew
i squirm
you do too
it burns us
electrically
with nervessemotion

A lady whose heart as big as her boils
as ugly as rust, yet kindly through toils

for troubled she was and poor as a pitcher
her purse full of holes, but loving stuck with her.

And having this love with nowhere to store it –
her house filled with cats, the neighbors abhorred it.

For all through the day was scratching and crying
If they hadn't known better, they'd think she was dying.

Her house overflowing and no food to eat;
she cared for her cats like they care for heat.

And one day the folk came at her door wrapping
but she couldn't answer, for she was still crapping.

The folk weren't new; they'd been here before;
she'd leave them long often to wait at the door.

But now with no answer, the cats left to mewing;
the lady left helpless while she was still pooing.

The folk grew impatient and broke down the door;
the smell was of rodent mixed with cheap *****.

And all through their nostrils, the folk kept on smelling:
mold, cabbage and *****, then faintly a yelling.

The noise sounded desperate – a cat may be sick!
so holding their noses they trudged through the thick.

The yelling grew louder till the back of the house,
Lady needed some t.p. – instead used her blouse.

My baby,
my darling
my Chinese ******* finger trap.

If I pull you too hard you’re going to snap.

if i pull too loose
you’re too abstruse
you’ll come undone,
so will the fun.

You hold me tight,
just when i fight.
so
i’ll let you loose
onto the night

and off you’ll go
an empty tube
i hope the next guy won’t need ****.

Ain't no
*******
thing to do or make, but
Poetry: productivity --

at best.

How

when knowing,

understanding my faults and redresses my halfhearted heart and weak regresses

do you insist on everything, and make sure I’m all right, and sing a stinging song, wrong

why

do you want to cry, every time I write, I lie?

If I revealed, in genuine, the depths of my desire,

I’d understand your hesitance, you likely would be shyer.

So I should lie wholeheartedly. But should I? Would I try,

if knowing that there’s one way through – by seeing eye to eye –

and we misstep. There’s nothing left, but dignity. Why lie

when dominance, incontinence are falling rather flat

(just like you) is pretty now at least you aren’t fat.

Cold on my neck
I like feeling
The caw, the
Buzz in the heater
Still buzzing

Could thou, sweet flower, grow in any garden
besides that closest to mine, just past the fence
that bounds my lush, ever-growing heart? And
weak shrubs cannot veil you, for lucid scents

prevent and taunt my tangled garden, green
and always lacking. At times I descry
those delicate petals kissed with color
and wonder – and wonder what could have been
had I not left your strong seeds out to dry,
had I overcome two stigmas' azure.

Regret is such a reoccurring dream.
I would soon whack redwoods and evergreens
that overflow my empty flower bed
and plant my cherished flower there instead.

SEEDS GLIDE AS YOU BLOW
ON THE SOFT HELD UNIVERSE;
DANDELIONS GROW

EACH AN EASY VERSE,
BUT LOVE IS HARD.  TO PLANT WEEDS
TAKES YOUR BREATH – NO WORDS.

LOVE PARACHUTES SEEDS
SPREAD ABOUT ALL – NO BEES, BIRDS;
SOME LOVE  IS QUICK LUST.

LOVE IS HARD AND RARE
TO CULTIVATE, WITHSTAND DUST
A FLOWER NEEDS CARE.

The ease of lustful apathy takes breath,
but cultivated love is overstepping death.

quick dandelions
blowing with ease in all wind
are weeds not flowers.

Dandelions change
simply, growing quickly – all
need no tender care.

Roses and tulips
take man's hand, and are rare, hard;
grow with water, sun.

Worthy love: sweet, rare
takes cultivation and care –
unlike weeds: flowers.

Upon the foot of spring, dandelions run
rampant, and weakly – quick, seemed flourished, fun.

It's not the time of dandelions;
they've all been blown away;

those fragile fragments now remind
the shooting stars of day.

And though the seedlings blown away seem gone;
they float as static light and air along
as pieces of a never ending earth –
a universe recycling its dearth.

All matter is
and always is.
A dandelion
may be his

smile. And think – drink water from your sink –
it may be reimagined stars you drink.