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7h · 15
ilo 7h
the shower has been a place of solace for me
for many years now
it is a coffeehouse for the freedom-less.
and tonight, was my homecoming

my personal philosophical ponderance over the years
has been more about what freedom is
than personal identities.
unless being a self-proclaimed thief of oneself
from time to time

freedom has been many things to me
it has been unattainable
simultaneously a promise of the future.
it has been a mindset.
it has been a commodity.
it has been capitalism's exploitation of my labor.
it has been the removal of people from my life.

but now it is different.
it was Hobbesian before
but I am an outright criminal now
for having completely stolen myself,
and that throws me back into the state of nature,
one where i can fight governance.
i think i have chance.
i have a strong, fighting chance.
am i entering the promise of the future?
and is that future one in which i am free?

more analysis is to come,
but it seems that i ought to work on
my philosophy on personal identity first
since i have won personal identity in this
promised future.
perhaps having an identity is freedom
Aug 16 · 19
Monty #1
ilo Aug 16
Monty hated that lil red car
wanted to beat it with an ol' stick
beat the man in it too!
but if they ever saw him
they don't know what they'd do
couldn't take the risk of bein' a statue

red car in their dream
man mash them 'gainst the wall
trapped and in tears
monty wakes up yellin' fire
Nov 2020 · 40
fleece pants
ilo Nov 2020
all the little mundane things huh
you think you know them

you wanna know something?
every night i wash my face
with Neutrogena's pink grapefruit oil-free face wash

and every winter
i find a pair of Old Navy fleece pants to wear
the pattern doesn't even matter
it almost makes it better that this year, the pattern is
"pink with cartoon polar bears in toboggans"

and I love to wash my face every night
wearing fleece pants
wearing only fleece pants

and I know I've sounded a little sad this year
but maybe that's because I've spent all my time working
and haven't had enough time to appreciate my new fleece pants

and you've sounded a little sad this year
but maybe that's because you've spent so much time sleeping
but don't own a pair of fleece pants

and maybe we're sad about each other
because, predictably, I'd say we should get matching
"pink with cartoon polar bears in toboggans" fleece pants
And you'd politely laugh at me and say no thank you
And then you'd think about how I'm so capitalist
with my Old Navy and Neutrogena and constant need to work
And I'll think about how I must be too undereducated for you now

But then I'll think
I like not being cold in my fleece pants
and the pattern is so fun to me because it's something I'd never wear, right? But they're so loveable! I love them.
I like being made not hungry by the money I've earned.
And I like not having opinions that make these things seem bad
because these things are what I have and can share.
And maybe somebody else wants to wear
"pink with cartoon polar bears in toboggans" fleece pants
and only "pink with cartoon polar bears in toboggans" fleece pants
with me
and we'll dance together while we wash each other's faces
and I'll be happy to not have acne

and maybe
I used to fantasize about that person being you
but that's okay because people move on
and I've had you roll your eyes at me enough times
and you've had me suggest fleece pants enough times
the pants, of course, are real but are also metaphorical too because this is poetry and I am not superficial

but god i want it to be you
Nov 2020 · 22
turtle doves
ilo Nov 2020
I remember a time when I would've grieved
if the turtle doves flew away
the turtle doves have flown away
and I'm still okay

I speak, "maybe they weren't real!"
strategic bourgeoisie distraction caused by this interaction
I know they were real

I enjoy political theory games
(something I never thought I'd say).
Their flight was so predictable,
but, regardless, I chose to stay.

The days are so quiet now that they do not sing.
I think maybe I'll follow them in doing my own thing.
birb poems
Aug 2020 · 16
the many uses of flour
ilo Aug 2020
this is a token
my secret slogan
my secret identity
running from thy entity
calls itself nomadic
when it’s just problematic

I demonize
“devil worship”
in a blissful harmony
Death be my pillow and Life my pillar
mutually exclusive
I write with a blank head
this head is dead, kaput
filled with helium
and soot
I looked alive
and now I delve
I devour
my body filled with wheat
now of flour
ilo Aug 2020
i, thief, am alive too,
Jan 2020 · 9
ilo Jan 2020
Wombat ran

To find it's heart

To find a world

That had fallen apart

Wished for
Longed for
Finally found

Couple more chunks
To the puzzle profound

Glued big pieces

The basic shape

"Look, see: isn't this great?"
Jan 2020 · 6
Bungee Busker
ilo Jan 2020
tether me
my tongue
stitched to the roof
i bungee
simple entertainment
for my pocket
with no
glide through air
now i'm
with pocket
of pennies
save them up
3 by 3
buy a ticket
into town
cow tongue
freak ***
no show
in a cave
new mauve
bat babe
plastic face
now poor
tether me
my tongue
once more
ilo Dec 2019
bp bp bp bp
footsteps nearing me
why do i get nervous
bp bp bp bp
i’m alone
my heartbeat again
bp bp bp bp bp bp bp

i haven’t been sleeping
but i sleep good when i do
lots of dreams lately
but they’re all too realistic

i’ve been daydreaming about vietnam:
i’m following this lady
who sells bananas on a bike
she’s leading me through the bazaar
to find man who sells spice
spice man just cracked a watermelon
the juice running down his hands
the aroma strong, clean
i can’t speak vietnamese
but i wonder how much he’d haggle
on a wedge

this morning on my cold walk
air blew back my rusty hair
i was purposeful tardy
but i was happy
i saw the browned ginkgo biloba leaves
limp by my feet
-they’re lucky you know, the ginkgo leaves
and i wondered if banana woman had ever seen ginkgo
Nov 2019 · 13
Butter Babe
ilo Nov 2019
Butter babe
Said hello
She's so hot
She melts you slow
Nov 2019 · 248
Fatted Gnome
ilo Nov 2019
Gnome baby sits

Gargling it’s mouth with
Gurgles of spring water for clean teeth
Its limestone slits
Are whitestone dreams

small feet
baby feet
tilted eyes
left forever
in an unused surplus
the forest was cut down
now drinking
from sidewalk puddles
Gnome baby’s teeth
turn to graystone greenstone beans
countdown to fall out

tiny feet
to fatten from loss and gain
the fatted patty
drips down poor gnome baby chin
turned gnome babe
fatted too
what once was
forest green
Gnome-esque gleam
Now are leftover food flake
Left as the bookmarks of
Gnome baby side rolls
Like Shar Pei dog skin
Oct 2019 · 130
ilo Oct 2019
This fickle bit
Of picked wind hit
Tossing my hair
In blur

never begun
burns my hand
and my tongue

my feet
like air
murmur past
flatiron towns
of nothing and everything
the obscurity of it all
does not keep me up
unless intentionally

and temporary towns
for momentary bounds
beds for my heads
that linger
in sound
irritated as their best state
and suspension as their worst

And so I ponder
And still longer
Oct 2019 · 25
Hey Jude
ilo Oct 2019
sweet to me
like lavender tea
cradle to my
dew born eyes

i cried softly
for a minute

hungry is my soul
this freedom ache
like rip current
tunnel vision

i litigate:
i must live

we are the people perpendicular
i lay flat on my bed and sigh

cut me down
i thought you wore
a solid gold crown
yet knew
deep inside
it was only gold plated

I loved

the world stays
air-seal pressed
Aug 2019 · 46
D isp-e rsemen t
ilo Aug 2019
Typ e 1
T ype 2
    Type 2

Scattered colors
Nameless creatures
my personal barcodes
ilo Aug 2019
in a place devine
where all color
is endless and scattered
and the creatures
have no names

in this place of mine
i wander
never lost
my heart is racing

pillar-less mind
a place you can't see
can't hold
can't be
coveted by the yearning
concentrated with the free
seen in my dreams
created by nobody
fostercare to all
anyone aware
and in this shell
this hollow plane
this deadbeat time lock
this old brain chain:
freedom can be your perspective
Aug 2019 · 76
ilo Aug 2019
Dear Mr.Jeeb!
He'll never cross his feet
For he's sure he be untied
And that he'll skip a beat
Suspicious Mr.Jeeb
He always wears a scarf
But it's 102 degrees
One pebble in his pocket
A pepper in the other
They cancel out each other
So he'll never get in troubled
Promiscuous Mr.Jeeb
Surgically webbed his feet
He'll never cross his toes
Next goes the nose
He takes his needle
And his thread
And slowly sews
Jul 2019 · 160
Short Story
ilo Jul 2019
Sammy looked out the dew dribbled, dust laden window. Having always being ripped from place to place, she'd learned by age eleven that one can take sights and should expect no more. She's 23 now and isn't going to clean anybody's ******* windows for them. But the hostel only cost her $3.50 a night and that's cheaper than the foster homes ever did. Hostel over hotel as it seemed almost parallel to the broken bits of here and there from foster care.
What was that girl's name again? I met her at age fifteen… She had green hair! I can't believe I forgot her name. The girl in the bed ten feet over looks like her. Maybe I should say "hi." But what if I offend her or she pulls a knife or speaks a different language? I suppose we're all here for a reason.
"Yo *****!" drips out from my mouth like it doesn't belong there.
She laughs at me.
"Yo, what up?" She says with a smile.
Her teeth are clean but the left canine tooth has been sawed into a needle point. Her eyes look like something I felt a long time ago. And her hair looks like the smell of toothpaste. Maybe the toothpaste company sponsors her with free toothpaste for life but she can't afford shampoo. I try to -brush- that away from mind for now.
"Nothing much. You wanna go get breakfast?"
"Sure. That'd be dope."
Dope drips better out of her white robed mouth than mine. ****.
We walk in silence. It doesn't feel much different than normal.
We find a decent diner advertising "chep cold samitch." New fear: chep cold samitch! There's an old man eating a cold sandwich to our left. The sandwich is completely purple. Like the color of beets. Is something wrong with my eyes?
"My name is Toca. You?"
"My name is Smammy. I mean Sammy! Hmm."
Her eyes crinkle
I order a greenish-blueish-redish samitch and Toca orders a black samitch. Why are they so cold eww.
Toca stares at me intently. Do I have regret for inviting her? Social anxiety or is this just very weird? After twenty minutes like this, her eyes start changing colors. Another ten minutes. Our food is getting warm the cook yells from across the diner.
"You do not want to see them warm..."
Toca raises her arm out from underneath the table and her thumb nail is painted green. Just like mine. That's neat. Except now she starts unscrewing her needle tooth. Ehhhh. The tooth comes off and she rolls it back and forth between her fingers before flicking it exactly between my eyebrows.

I wake up to a sharp lightning strike outside my motel room and clutch my pillow feeling thankful to have paid $11.50 more than what the hostel two miles away offered me.
I thought I'd write a fictional short story instead of a poem
Jun 2019 · 231
ilo Jun 2019
Burning soul
Take me through
A field so bright
Almost red
As firelight
If our feet burn
I won't be
Without a smile
A silly yearn
For steps untamed
A head so light
Helium maimed

My head so bright
Torn apart
By candlelight
I'd rather have a campfire
Under this broken moon
Nail and hammer and...
Field bright
Little love
From dawn
To night

I purge
Blacklight blood
In hopes
To see
With unity
-fingers Xing-
May 2019 · 117
ilo May 2019
So much aggression
And oppression
*** Bay Ya
Or Hell Nah

Straws and Pseudoscientists
          look into spoon  |/|\|/|\|/|\|/|\|/
          ~take the straw~
religious regard as Lord of the Lard
hole in the Ozone
messed up chromosome
the Earth is flat
flat as my ***
This is all that I could milk out of my brain for now ❤️
May 2019 · 126
the cold inchworm
ilo May 2019
Alone is he
He is alone
Prone to danger
To danger is he prone
not afraid
just shivers

walk alone
to nowhere
where he roams?

make cocoon
not be cold
but not see moon

not afraid
just cold
so he walks alone
And shivers
a brief documentation of the cold inchworm
May 2019 · 96
Guess what?
ilo May 2019
air dry for the poor
or energy efficient
shrinkage obsessed
or long life wear weary weirdos

Wandered Around The City
got 15 new stains
a little bit of sweat
and one more hole
Now You Need A Washer
Now You Need A Dryer
but all you got is
a toilet, some dish soap, a hair dryer
Apr 2019 · 128
\ Ant /
ilo Apr 2019
Gaze fixed
------------ Small grit -----------
Six equal limbs
------------ Little drone ------------
Vengeful tone
------------ Clone -----------

Mar 2019 · 891
Saudade Bear
ilo Mar 2019
Saudade bear whispers softly
To saudade moon
By which he used to gaze
By which he used to croon

Saudade bear has hearts 'stead of eyes
But each night he cries
To saudade moon

Saudade moon
She tries and tries
But all the saudade persons
Pile up and loose their eyes

Saudade person
Become saudade wishin' man
Then his eyes fall out
Right into his hand
He throws 'em in the wishing well
Under saudade moon
By which he used to gaze
By which he used to croon

Wishin' well is fishin' well
Where people come to eat
But eatin' days are over
And croonin' days all done

Saudade bear
Become just bear
Flat an' coarse, his small paw girth
Bring no more saudade birth
Feb 2019 · 153
Mountain Lion Robin Hood
ilo Feb 2019
A midst of humidity and heat
I walk bare foot through the scene
Barren muscadine vines cascade
All around my ankles
I can hear roaring in the distance
So let us walk towards that beacon

I come upon the sir
It holds its paw out,
I've never been one for handshakes
But this feels right
A sweet rendezvous
Dear peacekeeper of the woods,

Hello. May we meet again.
....... ................... .............. .. ........
Now, running through the ghettos
Picking up crumbs
Convinced I am Robin Hood
And my people are birds
Come save the people with me
............. .   ............... ......................
Am I awake or am I dreaming or both?

I've been writing a list of summer adventures.
Nov 2018 · 944
Canned Tuna
ilo Nov 2018
I lay in a field of dew fresh flowers
And dream of sweet spring showers
Time and Time take autumn to spring
And a tree begins to grow from me
Now mist and dew are due to me
Jul 2018 · 361
ilo Jul 2018
the birds
the bees
the flowers
the trees
boring *** old crumbs
charged with death
for crimes they've not committed
so fun
fun for everyone
but ages 12 and up pls.
let's celebrate hardship!
jump upon broken backs of overworked laborers
spending their lives as slaves without insurance!
let's celebrate family separation
and our president's inflation!
thought it was cute; might delete laterz
Jul 2018 · 333
You is Fineeee
ilo Jul 2018
You is fine.
You is mine.
You is lovely
I is a lil tubby
But you don't care.
You don't think so.
You thinks I is fine!
I loves you.
You is my Sweet Babboo.
Can't leave your sweet presence.
Intoxicated by your magic essence.
The tinge of saddness as I leave.
"Parting is such sweet sorrow."
But hopefully I'll see you tomorrow.
Whatever happened to me writing a book about Dandruff focused poetry. Honestly, you guys would've loved it. I deleted them, but those were great poems.
Jun 2018 · 669
Window Shopping
ilo Jun 2018
I close my eyes.
I travel and go no where.

I imagine an exotic land around me
Or maybe food
And freedom

Then I open my eyes
And my plane reappears.
It's like window shopping kinda,
You know?
Apr 2018 · 361
Vows to the Wind
ilo Apr 2018
I made a Vow To the wind once.
it had no consequences
and was based off of Only Love.
i told her
"whenever it's windy,
i will always be happy."

You see
i'd just been walking,
listening to her thrash objects- around.
she made a sort of song,
and played with my hair,
much like elementary students.
she has a sense of sophistication
defining her demeanor.
and to appease her
i told her i loved her
because i do.

in return
maybe she blows away my sorrows,
or perhaps it's all me.
follow the Capitalized brick road
Mar 2018 · 604
Electric Blue
ilo Mar 2018
I want to be in a lilac mood
And listen to lacey lullabies
But I feel electric blue
And long to hear bands like Queen.
I don't wish for forever lilac loves
But maybe just for ten minutes,
Just so I could recognize the feeling.
But I feel electric blue
And to that I must be true.
So I'll kick my feet,
Sing my rag-tag beat,
And go on to dream of sunset yellow
And saffron stories too.
Mar 2018 · 245
ilo Mar 2018
Kisses to my day dreams.
After thoughts on Romanticism.
Days passed,
Days I've wished had stayed present.
Sleeping eyes that open,
Smelling dew drops on a light breeze
Of that of a new morning,
And soon to come fresh rain,
Ready to be danced in.
Mar 2018 · 233
A poem for whom?
ilo Mar 2018
My stone like heart
Now has soft spots
Like that of molding produce
And you are relentlessly on my mind.

Yet, my heart and brain have regular rendezvous
See, my brain is insecure
And my heart: a bit unsure.
Yet, as I sit in crowded rooms
I wonder how this can be my dream
When I dream of being with you or in solitude.

The self demolitioning chaos I crave recommends you as an adventure.
But I don't know if it's okay to be so gleeful at it's sound
Though, I do so crave your presence.

And I pleasantly await
In fear to hear
The lyrics of your heart.
As they will be stained onto my heart
Like a temporary tattoo
And will be chiseled into my brain

— The End —