There are two kinds of creatures in this life;

the most attractive creature, is a man mindful of your feelings:
considerate of your emotions, making you feel truly valued,
and respected— who listens attentively to your thoughts,
and concerns but also responds with genuine care, and
understanding.

And the dumbest creature, is a man who instead thinks
with his second brain: not much thought needed there.

Manicure the landscapes of my gaze – a far-off forest whispers
sweet nothings before a lover fades into memory – growing
weary; the taste turns bitter, like rising *****. Lingering sweetness;
the flavour of honey clings to my lips, a hive buzzing with our
fantasies woven in dreams – yet this imagination comes tethered
to a swarm of bees.

A television muse; she’s a show looping in my thoughts,
preying on my moments, I’m praying pretending to be
faithful, my hands are little more faithful than I was to you,
never keeping you in focus.

We must have believed we were creases, yearning to love
beyond the inevitable wrinkles – beautiful, flawed beings;
yet even a beast knows it must seek another to thrive.

How humans are so vile.

What we humans are

is nothing, what we desire --


is all that matters.

how sick the mirrors are    of visiting our dumb faces
how weary the door is    of being bolted for our precious privacy
how dreary are our voices  to the walls
          as they are trounced  by our mad surly language ?
are the beds exhausted absorbing our stains ?
are the chairs knackered enduring our strain ?

how burdened are the tables by our taxes ?
how taxed are the windows projecting in ?
is the plumbing fatigued
          or the electric stressed ?
how geared up and fearful are the stairs
           as we begin our ascent ?
how bent out of shape is the ovens mood
           to bloat with heat and then cook our food ?

the engines of our house are in order
though  they must consider their efforts wasted
                     maintaining our bewildering lifestyle

Are apples bad?
Or just a few of them?
They live in a large round barrels.
Which is sometimes, overkill.
The barrel, isn’t very sturdy.
Matter of fact, it’s just a placeholder(s).
And one or two million of them,
Consistently
Ruin the whole friggin barrel.

***?

Man can build their dolls,
And pray to their arts and statues.
They can dream,
and wish,
and fear,
And all,
For they still
Will pay off their dues.

A one true god believed by one
Is flawed in only his jealousy
The men
The women
The children
And sinners
Will follow him ever so readily.

But when men perish
Lives selfishly cherished
Will fly up not to clouds.
They'll trip and fall
And traverse the tall
Pillars that carry earth's crowds.

Even the saints will work when embowed.
In hell, the man is in town.

When the world ended,
There was nobody,
Well, not to blame at least.

We all know
It was our fault
For trying to tame the beast

That was each other;
The ones above us,
Who enjoy their blazen yeast;

And the gods
Who roamed among us,
Who’d rather blame the feasts.

So we killed them:
Our friends, our enemies.
We tore down our economy.

We killed them:
Ourselves, each other.
Split necks, called it dichotomy.

We killed them:
Our world, our sins,
And practiced red topography.

We killed them:
Our sons, our men
And I pretend it doesn’t bother me.

It’s over, what can we do,
But bear our children
Directly into misery?

It never started, but whoever knew
A perfect world
Could fall into asymmetry

Was thought a god,
Like you humans do,
You who are yet to know of empathy

Claim to be gods
When all you can do
Is all but value your epiphanies.

When the world didn’t end,
Everyone noticed.
Well, at the most, it was done subconsciously.

As such, nobody knew,
And as humans do,
They’d continue their rule in cacophony.

They would each learn no lesson,
They’d die in succession,
And abandon design and biology.

They’d choose all that exists:
Good, evil, abyss,
And believe they were gods wholeheartedly.

When the world didn’t end, it bothered me,
As the fruit of that tree
Is a part of me.

I put some traits of me in this world maybe someone would notice.
Nobody notices. They are asleep.