my past is filled with oedipal encounters:
many men i needed to rival

today i unintentionally travelled (really?)
today i involuntarily travelled (no way)
today i travelled into my past:

memories of many men that i needed to rival.
due to my fatherless childhood i didn't have
a man to compete against; that's why i JUMPED at countless chances to do so. none of these conflicts happened by chance.

i picked strangers to compete against.
but then there was this day. a certain day. a secret night.

since then, i have gradually and later on gently overcome my need to compete.

i was bewildered today because i competed against another man. why?

out of the dark, i developed an affection for a woman younger than me; a brief moment of ****** interest. the competitor involved walked her home after a meeting the three of us had been together.

while they were strolling down the street, i followed them. i wanted to see what they were doing. i wanted to observe how they observed each other's attraction.

did so for a couple of minutes; they didn't take notice of me; or they were playing dead while their mouths were overfilled with squishing sounds of saliva.

and then ––  as promptly as old patterns of rivalry had emerged ––
i lost my affection for this young woman.

affection left my soul like a spirit leaves a dead body. the affection vanished into thin air since it couldn't find a shelter in my soul. so this wired affection went on a quest for another creature.

i didn't say goodbye. just wrote something down.

I called someone a
*******
did they know
that they had an
Oedipus complex?
I make Frued proud
on a daily basis.

Were I to sit upon a throne
And gaze, amazed, that I alone
Can change your life
Can grant your wish
Deny your rights
'Fore rights exist
As I see fit
And thus my whims
By my decree
Can change your life
Should I see fit

Oedipus I, I Ordipus am
Am ruler of this wretched land
Upon my throne I sit alone
Alone I sit, alone I am
I am alone
I Opedipus Rex, I ruler of the dregs

Sprinting through the meadow--
Sun warmly brushing skin.
Tickled by the wild grass
As afternoon games begin:
Exploring creeks and forests
And all that lives within.
Scrapes and bruises commemorating
The quest for long lost kin.

Tiptoe through the garden;
Whisper through the tress.
In illuminated darkness,
Be hushed by rustling leaves.
Flowering rows exposed
So as to be kissed by passing bees;
Dancing down the aisles,
Damp earth cooling your bare feet

Sitting on the window sill,
Watching the passing day.
Attention turned towards the hearth
Once night takes the view away.
Surrounded by the things you know,
Comfortable in the array.
Simple now, was simple then
And simple may they stay.

I had horrible dreams of her last night

of a Mother red haired with soft hands and fine skin that demand

her two boys' respect or the cunning not to be caught in contempt

of her as she doesn't mind burying her head in the sand

if they kiss her before she slips under her dune comforter and sleeps

for a selfish safe-keeping with a smile but is the kind of lady

who pins her lip corners on her cork board cheeks daily like a cast list

while she cooks turkey for all cleaning the wishbones before her plate

to use as window-sill ornaments until her kids come home so they might fly

or at least not to waste the magic on herself but they hide blocks away

in the parking lot shadow of the auto-repair shop's spinning sign

from the Sun and sky