#pin
I hope that when I die,
Whenever that may be,
My soul is reincarnated
Into someone that can actually make use of it
Because obviously this life was not meant for me
To make use of my soul.
Because I feel like I have
A truly beautiful and unique soul,
But it is wasted on the life that I currently have,
And probably always will be.
To me, it is almost certain
Based on the life I’ve already had thus far
That the potential of my soul
Will never be realized in its current incarnation
(i.e., my life).
So perhaps then I can make the purpose of my life
To be able to cultivate my soul as much as I can.
Not so that the next incarnation—
The next keeper of my soul
Can avoid experiencing all the pain,
All the devastation, all the heartbreak,
But so that the next keeper of my soul
Won’t have to be confused about how to conquer those challenges.
They will find themselves already equipped
(To their surprise)
To handle the challenges that await them
Because of me.
It’s clear to me
(For now, because I can only operate in the now)
That my life was not meant for me to be thinking
About my dreams, my future, or my potential.
My life was meant only for me
To try to survive until I die one day.
My biggest dream at this point
Is for the next incarnation (hopefully)
To use my soul (our soul?)
And take it to its full potential.
I also hope they get to use our soul
And its unique energy
To find the deepest, most authentic love and connections.
May our soul help the next incarnation of myself
Build the strongest support system possible.
Another dream of mine would be,
If the afterlife exists,
Being able to follow the trajectory of my next incarnation
So I can enjoy the success, fulfillment
And human connection I was never allowed in my life.
May they be born to a loving and supportive family
That gives them the space to be
Who they know they were always meant to be.
With that being the purpose I’ve realized for myself now,
I can hopefully endure all of my future challenges
In hopes that it will all benefit my next incarnation.
I am almost jealous of my next incarnation
Because of the beautiful life they are probably going to have.
However, looking at the silver lining
(Which I always do, even against my will sometimes),
My life will at least have served the purpose
Of benefiting someone else’s.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 7:16 PM UTC
Oh dear! Lesson…
The beat of my heart,
The breath of a soul.
That always just tries
To say something…
To write and bleed
Feelings through the pen,
Like an unbounded river flows,
Like a free bird flying high.
But… the words never support like you.
They never capture the true feeling.
Like a soldier in practice
Who misses his aim every time.
Still, I never stop writing,
Never stop bleeding from the pen…
As this pen works like a blade
That strikes its knife deep within.
Deep and deep in my wounds,
It encloses and breaks me,
Like one on his last breath
Prays to God to ease the pain.
And it blows the fire even stronger,
Burning the veins inside me.
But perhaps, it’s not the pen’s fault.
Perhaps I feel it deeply—
From the core of my heart,
From the depth of my mind.
Or… maybe it’s your mistake,
That you made me feel like this.
Dec 16, 2025
Dec 16, 2025 at 5:13 AM UTC
Oh dear! Lesson…
The beat of my heart,
The breath of a soul.
That always just tries
To say something…
To write and bleed
Feelings through the pen,
Like an unbounded river flows,
Like a free bird flying high.
But… the words never support like you.
They never capture the true feeling.
Like a soldier in practice
Who misses his aim every time.
Still, I never stop writing,
Never stop bleeding from the pen…
As this pen works like a blade
That strikes its knife deep within.
Deep and deep in my wounds,
It encloses and breaks me,
Like one on his last breath
Prays to God to ease the pain.
And it blows the fire even stronger,
Burning the veins inside me.
But perhaps, it’s not the pen’s fault.
Perhaps I feel it deeply—
From the core of my heart,
From the depth of my mind.
Or… maybe it’s your mistake,
That you made me feel like this.
Dec 16, 2025
Dec 16, 2025 at 5:11 AM UTC
if that’s your pin
you’ll probably have to talk to me
pretend I exist for a moment
just a moment
I know im wrong
I messed up
but please
if that’s your pin
I have it
Nov 8, 2025
Nov 8, 2025 at 12:11 AM UTC
When You Wake Up Tomorrow
When you wake up tomorrow
if I am not around, will you miss me?
If you never see me again
how much of a void will I leave in our heart?
Will you know how much I loved you?
will you truly know how much I cared?
nothing in this world mattered to me
more than being my best for you
I loved you with a pure love
that sprang up from a flawed heart
from within a flawed man
but my love for you was never flawed
But now this great gulf divides us
and it keeps getting wider
will I ever be able to reach you
to tell you one more time
that I truly love you
that I truly care
How I wish I could turn back time
if only I could start again
if only I could go back to the start
I would make it count
But what’s the point in worrying
about what can’t be changed?
I’ve already lived my life
If you could call it ‘living’
Now the only thing l can do
is to offer you the only gift I can
and that is my absence
hope it will bring you joy
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 7:59 AM UTC
You're like a safety pin.
Holding onto life for me
When i no longer can.
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 4:10 PM UTC
Commitment and trust, a safety pin so small,
In the tapestry of bonds, they stand tall.
They shield and support, like a gentle embrace,
But one misstep, and the balance we chase.
Delicate threads woven, emotions entwined,
Unintended consequences, where hearts find,
A wounded soul, left in the aftermath,
When commitment falters, trust takes a path.
So cherish these elements, precious and rare,
Handle with care, for they're beyond compare.
For in the fabric of relationships, they reside,
A safety pin's power, when love is our guide.
Apr 28, 2024
Apr 28, 2024 at 11:42 AM UTC
Fight or flight button upgrade in process,
pleas,
beggings,
wait. Wait and see. Selah. Wait...
there. The next para-digm pop, you opt for geotime mode...
think
I am a rock... not the whole song, at this speed that takes a mortal ever.
Hyper awareness arousal, slow and steady mode...
startle response seen in squirrels and lizards and me, the re
sponsor of what... ? nada,
oftener than not.
The trigger is a ***** from a point being ig-nored in ignoble folly
iggie popped a bubble,
iggie lived an ugly life at the same time as earth was living an ugly life,
pop aster risc pop star ish pop
horse feathers as a load, ye gotta tote that bale, bher the forbidden burden.
Ye never read? Is that the message ye come t' judge. Will ye find me those winged
messengers of old, mercurial bherers of points in the right way
popping boundaries to progress, in time,
laughing at the rock I imagined I am, or am I?
Am I the rock Sisyphus rolls?
the time scale has wobbled,
ever just threatend to end free will,
-- is this suicidal imagination killing its own self?---
you can't die if you want to.
Not here.
Up the road a bit there is a bridge. Sure thing. For normals, who
never been this far before.
Would that be Sylvia Plath paying me back
for knowing nothing of the effect her work had on
the message McLuhan got...
next generations are pre-enabled to be skeptical,
the medium is the message,
resonating into ever, since October 27, 1954...
singing- chorus of smallworld voices
Soaring strings... whennn you wish
upon
a star, makes no difference where you are...
the
first American Television
generation with unformed frontal cortices in 1954,
sang that song, in their hearts, and truly,
wished on Venus, often,
that supposed to be the wishing star,
all things considered
combining into les confused knots
Pinochio/Tinkerbell dust/ Magic wand
the besom, broom, for sweeping up destruction,
Fantasia ai ai ai
was animated. We saw it with children's eyes,
in darkend rooms that poured
our mass attention into the massive window
staring into the windows of our souls,
---- the effect of truth
---- war loses its honor, its only supposed reason.
---- war it self crumbles under truth flowing in the at most fears
---- made superficial, top ply, last layer losing wind
breathe, soft yes, nothing is funny any more. Ah ah ah waht if
it always was a literal joke...
high brow,
a maze, to entertain life... in 2020 there is tech for this.
We have access to survivor networks of every imaginable ilk.
Meditations on truth, owmmm what is going on gonggggg
And they are off, all the fears and doubts and unbelievable lies
into the stretch
intendere
sistere
pop to Sysiphus Happy Now
Massive multi player game, where all non-player characters
lack masks, they do not play, the masked ones play for them, in the spirit
of
truth
told so suddenly y'gut jumps,'n' sphincters clinch...
simultaneous release of un belief, opening
empty knowledge boxes lined
with cedar, for the smell,
hope, in my chest, where my trea-sure things are.
My grandmother, the idea of her, her life was happy, as far as I knew.
Now, I know she was a final model of mental upgrades
to the enregizing system we all share,
at v.1.0 white of the egg dna,
some 120 kya a[kilo years ago}... there have been upgrades and repairs
to many lines of YMRCA's since she wombed her way into
our family history,
it must be quite a story, if we can imagine mito mom mighta had a whole
dreamtime life where she snipped the thread of all the other wives,
a vision, she says I see, and I see I say, this is the way
prophecy woiks, woopsie daisy jes' dropptabebe, do a li'l dance,
weep 'n' moan, what could be woice, than a cajun gramma lover voice?
singin' sweet by and by
so long no longer means a thing,
things being what they are, and we being mere words, working
through true trauma beings
lining up for gratulation, grace for grace, eye to eye.
Bad guys lose, good guys win.
__ like I said, there will be times you must start over..
__ but the game goes on.
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 7:38 PM UTC
She told him that if an inch was a mile,
that her footstep would have been
all it took..
"**It doesn't matter the length of the road,
its the engine that drives you on it**..
Well love yours is a 50cc and that doesn't
get me anywhere fast...
Jesus my stick vibrates
at I higher speed than that.
And doesn't run out of gas that quick,
splutter, splutter..
It isn't true what they say about shoe size,
what a dam pity....
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 7:27 PM UTC
by Arcassin Burnham
I was just another flame in the mist ready to be burned out.
I was just another past rekindling some spark with an old spouse.
I was just another homeless guy on the street asking for money.
I was just another bee pollenating
Looking around for some honey.
Something about a day to myself just makes it all worth while again,
To love and eat and pray just like a holy ritual where cruelty will never hurt you again.
When humans make up stupid accusations just
Pin something on you just turn the other cheek,
When people have the advantage to ruin what's inside your soul it leaves you in a space not to speak.
Their anger flourishes cause they know they're wrong in times where most of the time parents let society raise their kids while begging for money from the government making money off mental illnesses becoming what the child thought you'd never turn into, hope your heart is bullet proof,
crisis flooding to the roof, putting shame on my name, do better, speak the truth, why does everyone that lives and breaths searching for a better virtue, life isn't hard, follow the rabbit it'll guide you.
Something about a day to myself just makes it all worth while again,
To love and eat and pray just like a holy ritual where cruelty will never hurt you again.
When humans make up stupid accusations just to pin something on you just turn the other cheek,
When people have the advantage to ruin what's inside your soul it leaves you in a space not to speak.
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 12:24 AM UTC
Failure
Too familiar a sensation
One that I could use a vacation
From ASAP
Constantly flooded by thoughts and ways that
I could have done better
But these days that
Go by
In the blink of an eye
It seems that by
The time that I try
To do better I find
That I’ve failed
And if only I could say
that I’ve nailed
Down a way
to rise above that feeling of sadness
If only I could, just once, say I had this
All figured out
If only my actions matched my words in clout
I could, beyond a shadow of a doubt,
Make things right
Take things to new heights
Overcome the petty problems and plights
That plague my every day life
A life rife with strife
Rife with the pain of disappointment
Like a stab in the chest with a butter knife
C’est la vie
Such is life
Mon ami
My friend
But this isn’t the end
No
If you want we can pretend
Though
That it is for just a minute
So let’s stick a pin in it
And come back when we’re done
Because I won’t let it end ‘til I’ve won
At least one time
(Once is better but time rhymes)
Failure
Too familiar a sensation
One I view with indignation
Despite what good can come of failing
Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not hailing
Failure as some great thing
That we should all strive to bring
Into our lives and those around
All I’m saying is that failure is worth its weight in gold
Pound for pound
So I’m told
That failure is experience
Somewhere between godliness and expedience
Hastening our ability to grow
And adapt and come to know
The difference between wrong and right
But even if I know the difference I might
Still **** up and that’s okay
I remind myself every day
That it’s okay to fail
It’s okay that you’re in the part of this tale
Called life that you’ll make mistakes
Like rhyming the above with mushrooms known as shittakes
(Okay that was arguably bad
But sometimes bad rhymes are to be had
When you write at 3am despite needing sleep
But you compulsively keep
Writing; you can’t put down your pen and pad
Oh who am I to kid
Everyone knows that I did
This on my phone
Sitting at home eating garlic hummus alone)
Where was I?
Oh
Failure and success
A state of being best left to be assessed
By the one who seeks to turn his loss into a win
And that’s where we come back to that pin
From before
The one I said we’d later explore
So heed my words carefully
Or suffer more pain unendingly
Life will never treat you fair, fully
So it’s time to start acting comprehendingly
As in: comprehend what your failures will do
When you learn to use them to become a better you
Because life ain’t fair
Accept that and beware
That life may be unbearable
At times
(Just like some of these terrible rhymes)
But you have to find a way
To grin and bear it gleefully
Because as they say
Mon ami
C’est la vie
This is the end
Now
No more pins, rhymes, or lines
Just a bow
And an adieu
And a cow tow
From me to you
So that you take what I have written
And find the thing in life you’ve been smitten
By and do what you love even if you fail
Even if you whine and moan and wail
Until you’re sick and you grow pale
Until you learn to use your failure as a tool
As a unique stepping stool
Onto bigger and better things
Even if your failure stings
Don’t let it hold you down
Don’t let it make you sad and frown
Let it bolster you to try again
And then
When you inevitably succeed
When you’re at the top, when you’re in the lead
You’ll look back and wished you had read
This poem
So if you have sad friends
Show ‘em
This
And they won’t be sad for much more
(Just angry for rhymes made in poor
Taste)
But I promise this isn’t a waste
Of time
I promise this is more than a few words put into rhyme
There’s a point, which is this:
You’re going to try and you’re going to miss
Because failure is an option until it’s not
And when it’s not, there’s your shot
So have a positive attitude
Because life is as good as it’s viewed
—pin removed
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
Crafting scissors
Gardening shears
A pizza roller
Instruments of humble vivisection
I wield, I rend, I create.
Needles and pins,
Nimble and thin,
I pierce, I pull, I close.
With measured patience
I choose my weapons:
Ink, passion, time, and wit.
An armory of precision and gut.
Boulders bruise but roll away,
Fire burns, but I'm already ablaze,
Arrows lodge shallow or all fall short,
But the cold?
It slices.
The draining thought:
Is this the end of my creation -
Is there no more?
I slowly bleed out.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
You sit there on the edge of your bed at seventeen wondering where the hell it all went wrong.
Growing up didn’t seem so awful until you realized that eventually you’re going to fall in love with a beautiful girl, and she’s going to tell you she loves you back but not until she loads her gun.
So you keep sitting there, at the edge of your bed, praying that she loves the color of your eyes more than she loves the smell of the flowers she’s going to place at your grave.
But she doesn’t.
She never did.
So at seventeen, you decide to jump.
You jump off your bed and the fall seems to go on forever.
But your bed was never a bed, it was the pedestal she had you on for fifteen months and you finally had the courage to take that leap of faith and free yourself.
Except freedom isn’t freedom if you’re still shackled up and chained at the bottom of the oceans in her eyes and helplessly addicted to the satin feel of her skin. You scream and scream, but nothing can break the silence.
That’s when you realize she pulled the trigger and didn’t even kiss you goodbye.
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 5:39 PM UTC
I see the needle in my eye
I see the silver tip
That holds every microbe known to man
I see it
In my eye,
In front of my eye-
The tip glistening under the
Beam of light that has refracted
From the broken windows,
it's getting closer now.
The silver pin ******
Will soon be dyed in red
And all my secrets and
Rumours
And evil
And good
Will spill into my hand,
Everything that I know
Will be washed away
And all my thoughts
Will kiss the ***** floor
And make a blanket of
Colourless emotions
And all my soul will pour out
When the needle strikes
My eye
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC
remember when we used to talk
underneath the pavements we walk
delusion has crept my vision
yearning like it's another fiction
pacing through cherished moments
painful it is, but I am blinded
art full of flaws, full of dents
replaced by wonderful beads
electrifying feels for you
longs and can never be diminished
journey of sufferings
reminisce, but will never fade
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 8:47 AM UTC
Remember to put the pins
Back in the pin cushion
After you put all the pieces back together,
Don't drop them!
You wouldn't wish to step
On someone else's leftover pins,
Or pins you left over from fixing
Someone else.
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 9:18 PM UTC
The rocks don't stop you,
And neither does your prey's sharp teeth.
Gold, silver, grey and blue,
Darting into salty view,
What a lovely shade and hue,
I want to have you for my own,
And yet,
Here you are,
Away from the net,
Dart, dart, darting away,
Wonder of your fluorescent skin,
Smoother than the smallest pin,
A jokers smile is plastered for show,
Swim, swim, swim away.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 1:31 PM UTC
Checkered choices rise some nights,
play chess with all my frightful failings.
Queen's Pawn to Rook 5.
Nail my footsteps
to the concrete season.
I'm losing pieces it seems.
I'm a sardonic grinner
and under these eyebrows, it's nuclear winter.
Wending my way through the last
three years, I find no release valve.
The pressure will build and place
its long arm along my shoulder,
pull me far from my friends.
One.
Two.
One.
Two.
Step
by step
by hammer blow step
a story is crafted, installed with a lock
in a circular book.
Queen's Pawn to Ryman Street
1:45 a.m.
simmering skin over ice armored innards,
the freezing rain sends up my curses
like steam
clouding off of my shoulders
and into the skyline.
I've castled my way out of checkmate questions.
Not my move to make,
so I won't life a finger.
Queen's Pawn to front doorstep,
then straight on to bed.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC
Silent blue
Silent gray
Pin drop scream
Pain to stay
Mirror clean
Mirror crack
Pin drop scream
Reflection black
World stain
World crazy
Pin drop scream
Simply hazy
Scarlet sunshine
Scarlet moon
Pin drop scream
Music tune
Wonderfully pretty
Wonderfully lonely
Pin drop scream
Blank stare only
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
Baby-dolled eyes,
and glamor velvet
encircles
with a cruel femininity;
the darkest pin-up
of your
diamond-dazzled
dreams always takes
it up a notch!
It’s all burlesque
and whispers
when you come into her
world of mirrored
desire that
plays just behind
her lips;
that dances just behind
her rhinestone mask.
The vampiress of
merlot, cigarettes,
and lace
always remembers
her prey;
a black-widow’s
striptease, cold
and calculated.
Again, she delights
in the fact
that she has broken
another man
she invited
in to her ruthless
masquerade.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC