#weirdness
removing love from sunbeams
i take a nap stretched feline diagonal
sainted across this afternoon
my dreams slant and fill
pool with warm blood and stimulation
puckling with keen sprigs of excitement
delighted inhibition attends in numbers
characters clap their hands frigging the silence
marbling vortexes in the atmosphere
among them passionate v.i.p.s swell-wishers
and distressing swollen carnival kinkers
someone passes me a handgun
wrapped in a pink silk square
it is factory unfinished
jagged edges never filed off
from cheap molds
cuts into my hand to hold
assassin amateur blood bonded
seeks his foe
it is to be an event
an exploitation
of my knitty 'ins & outs'
my pleasure and a measure
of invasional discomfort
both granted and guaranteed
Apr 10
Apr 10, 2026 at 9:14 AM UTC
Somebody, give me your soul.
Clone army, Somebody 1, Somebody 2,
Anybody! Give me to you,
So that I can become Normal.
I am Nobody alone.
Just a waiting John Doe
For somebody to know
I was never my own.
I wish, I wish it was the case
That we were more alike:
That it wasn't such a hike
To walk the way you pace,
But I'm not. I'm only this.
And if you knew me
For even an eternity,
I'm one no one'll miss.
I'm nobody playing a role.
Sep 22, 2025
Sep 22, 2025 at 9:55 PM UTC
I am weird
Born weird
And in the desperate urge not to be
I tried to take another form —
A shape made from a mold that wasn’t mine.
And the pain of not fitting into what was expected off me…
Turned into despair.
Claustrophobic, crushed
Inside a mold that was never made for my shape.
And the pain?
The pain of the molds
Was greater than the despair itself.
Still, I go on
Still…
Weird.
Apr 30, 2025
Apr 30, 2025 at 3:42 PM UTC
I am weird
Born weird
Since the first breath
Since the first blink
I knew it.
I felt it.
I was… weird.
And with the weirdness
Came the pain
The pain of knowing
The pain of self conscious
The pain of being... weard
And in that pain
A cold, cruel hope—
To change.
Change.
Change…
…
Impossible.
Change.
Apr 29, 2025
Apr 29, 2025 at 9:01 PM UTC
How odd running into you, in Miami like this.
Should we exchange info, or steal that last kiss?
Your left bumper should be fine.
Not so sure about mine.
It may heal with time.
Boy, you look nice and smooth.
I play along too, like I'm cool as you.
Yep, nothing to see here.
Just a couple ex-lovers, squabbling over your rear.
But yeah, I do my own thing.
I write and brew coffee.
My lifelong dream!
What?
God no. Not in Miami.
Oct 30, 2021
Oct 30, 2021 at 11:00 AM UTC
She shunned him—hung upwhen heI'd call.
His broken heart cried, End it all!'
On a dock's edge, above the ocean
He stood and drank a poisoned potion.
Then looped a noose around his head,
And with one shot shot himself dead.
Or would have, but he missed his head
And shot th noose loop loose instead,
Then, falling, gulped the salty ocean,
Which made him puke the poisned potion.
Swimming ashore, he blamed himself
Becaause he could not slay nimself.
But then she came. He watched her fall
Into his arms, answering his call.
Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 4:24 PM UTC
Lurking in the dark
Listening to the song of early lark
Scary vision void of light
Can he **** the vision, he might
Coldness in the rainy breeze
Wish everything could be cleansed with water
Every rainy breeze is first warmer
And these **** spectrum lines of Balmer
With no light to be felt
No tide from the Mediterranean belt
With no stone to pelt
The Raven in his best sits
Watches him turning into oblivion
In a flash
Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 7:32 PM UTC
if I got a poem out of every message I receive...ha!...I do...
quite a bit upon to chew,
but a request from her,
to please ignore her weirdness,
too juicy to pass unnoticed,
because it goes to the heart of the mad matter
'tis that weirdness that I do so cherish,
fully reflected in my own poem-children,
my multiple identities, that the FBI is yet tracking
give me your weirdness, yearning to be free,
so my poems can be inscribed upon a crown
and daughter adopted dear,
that one crown,
thy name,
thy madness upon it etched,
modified to rest
easy
upon thy temples
<•>
for Ali
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
if my life is a constant case of
deja vù
then why am i having so much trouble
remembering myself
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 6:16 AM UTC
I’m aware of so many things
But it’s my choice to be sure or hesitant
I know I could pierce my ear for Sunday nights only
I wonder if it would make me seem more militant
we can talk at a party
what you don’t know
what I don’t say
it all depends
I decided how I look is only good for a few minutes
Then our minds take over racing past our eyes
The soft sidewalk exists if you let it carry you
Take off your shoes, smile a lot, don’t tell lies
we can talk in a bar
what I don’t know
what you don’t say
it all pretends
I do have so many doubts
But it’s my choice to let them get to me
Sometimes a headache is a relief from life
It forces me to stop thinking about the things I see
we can talk in a park
what I already know
what you already said
it almost ends
I decided how you look is good for a long time
I’m sorry if you need more but its where we start
You look interesting enough, especially your style
I wonder what you’ll be like after I break your heart
we can talk on a phone
what I already said
what you already know
it almost begins
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
See,
Thy world is a smelting *** of whimsical worldchyme stew,
A goulash that aquire's carrots, beef, potatoes, and other uncanny things,
Well,
As for me!
I'm its gravy!!!!
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 9:52 AM UTC
You were the best
Among the rest
That's why we're weird together
Cause we do things in another manner
Now you ask, "What's the matter?"
I feel down
My face is in a frown
You two are going
leaving
Our weird antics
And those undeniably numerous frantic
All our laughs filled with glee
Are going to be missed by me
Now I don't want you to be blue
This poem is my greatest THANK YOU
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
There's a very fine line between
Weirdness and Greatness...
And often the transition
Is undetectable.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
We're not meant to hate. I'm sorry but its true, no matter how much we say we hate someone deep down we know we're lying to ourselves.
You know how Love is the best feeling in the world. Don't you think hate is the alternative to when you're broken or something? Because with Love comes butterflies in our tummies, smiles in our faces, happiness and well thoughts of those you love. So with hate comes furry in our tummies, anger in our hearts, pain and memories of those who hurt us.
So does this mean we hate to remember those we love?
Because we don't really want to forget them?
Eh I think the heat is getting to me over here.
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 5:54 AM UTC
Procrastination,
My fair lady,
Why must you compel me
To worship you
When I have so many and so urgent things to do?
Fine. So maybe it is not your fault.
So I'm just lazy. Okay.
But you are so tempting.
Lulling me away
from so many chores
(Or a death by boredom - who can really tell?)
Sometimes you offer me the prettiest of pictures,
Sometimes the funniest of videos,
Other times merely my bed and the ceiling,
But more often books.
Beautiful, beutiful books.
So why should I scold you
For taking my time
When those are the hours
I most lovely spent?
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC