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Vince Chul'Theg Mar 2017
I need your lips

So I'll catch them by their
Silken wings

Mid flight
Riding the wind
Of your words
And mine

Line by line
Stanza by stanza
#butterflypoetry  #iloveyou
Vince Chul'Theg Mar 2017
Why do I cry. 

Why the Chevy Suburban's
Cigarette lighter fire
To my sternum's reverse?

Why this firefly's incandescent 
Luminescent, opaque gel
Behind my eyes?

Why these toes scorching sand
Black glass footprint
Path?

Why the tightened heart's
Water ballon tie 
Swollen, stretched?

Why these trees'
Branches reaching 
Seeking my shaded rootbark?

---

Tell me: 
How do you choose between 
A warm valor blanket
Straight from the clothesline
And
Feet made sore by dancing 
To songs
Throat sore, raw
From roar of laughter? 

Time and distance? 
Space?
Reach.

These salt water tears,
Pacific made,
Maroon sunset over Federai inspired 
Collect and I guess
They belong to you 
Too. 

Weave.
Repair.
Patch thatched roof.

Water. 

Pause. 

Pray:
Sachigchig ma weash.
#love #connection #depth #patience #finally #deeperlevels #safety #dissonance
Vince Chul'Theg Mar 2017
My brother is coming after me with a knife
Somewhere North of Dares Beach Road
In Prince Frederick, Maryland.

There is lots of conversation.
He is manic and persistently after my throat.
I’m not sure what he is talking about,
But it comes at the volume of every
Missed connection the last 6 years has amassed.
Flood gating levy tumble.

His eyes are huge,
His knuckles and wrists always
Elevated above heart level
(Not like a zombie, just grasping in general).

He looks good.
Radiant even.
With a black backwards baseball cap.

We slowly make our way down past
Smoothie King where he lunges
And swipes the knife at me.

I am doing quite well at dodging
Every attempt to slash me.
Until we are under the Apex Theaters
Sign in front of Safeway.

The sun has nearly set.
The spring air is clean
And the sky is dark blue.

Gun pulled, shoots me in the forehead.

Bullet hits my pre frontal cortex
And then arcs severely down and outward,
Like half a parabola.

The bullet leaves through my occipital bone.
I am stunned, but completely unscathed.

I scream: “How am I not dead?!”
My brother barely looks interested.
I say: “What the **** is Wrong with you?!”

I wake up.
9 months sober.
Vince Chul'Theg Feb 2017
When I'm with you
I'm in a dream
From which
I cannot
Will not
Wake

When I'm with you
I barely remember a time
When I could not see
Our future

Because
I can see
The callusing of your palms
Two tear duct lashes
Summer then Fall

We aren't known for
A connection that
Calls for the movie magic
First kiss at my doorstep

But
who needs that
When my hand fits so
Precisely in your jacket
Pocket?

My face on your shoulder:
"I can feel your smile"

Wet eyes
Green eyes
Red lightening bolts
Across white
Can't disguise
A connection so
Right I can't help but
Smile and thank god
In the isle of a bookstore
Maybe

That I have found
My meant-to-be

The one I've chosen
And have been chosen by

Because
After all these years
My hands in your hands
Finally we're here

When I'm with you
I feel it is impossible
to ever feel alone again

Enmeshed legs
Arms
Chest to chest
Soul crunch

And it's not enough
To dissolve into you

Trying to figure out how
To consume even more

Short of Winifred Sanderson- ing
Your life force's electric
Blue blanket cloud
Through deliberate
Lip sips

A mellifluous whisper:
"How is this even possible"

Possible
Or: I love you, Scotty.
Vince Chul'Theg Feb 2017
I feel less convicted

I can’t stand for a core
Set of values it seems and
It makes me feel
Unsuccessful

I hear people like Marin
And Chris share their
Political, Moral, Any views.

Streams of logic
(Whether I agree or disagree)
That flow with concern
In earnest
With confidence.

I used to be this way.
Very heavy and deep
Vibrations were needed to
Rattle me.

I am not comfortable feeling like
I cannot share my principles.

I fear I have no principles.
Who am I if I am without principle?

I know what I want my principles to be.
They’re generally liberal.
Mainly about love,
But I don’t feel like a good practitioner
Here in Asia.

After two years I’m still deciding whether
It’s a lack of quality people or quality me.
Probably both, right?

I feel so wide open now that I have
Traveled and used bucket showers,
Seen fire dance sunrises and sets,
An endangered species butchered on its back.

A friend, the best-kind, rise and fall so
Many times before an ultimate
Earth shattering demise.

But also Her death was not her demise.
Beauty thrives, yet, in the darkest depths of
The human experience.

Also:
Impermanence, so.

I sit, so very baffled in
My own existential quandary
(Which prevents me from peace,
usually at night).

Where are the lines?
People see lines.
The lines signal where the
Convictions exist and
I think that once those lines
Become real for a person, there
Is much peace.

I was a different person in
Many ways back when I could
Spar about Anything in a convicted,
Solid way.

Much more firm in my convictions
About virtually everything that hadn’t
Anything to do with ***/uality.

When I hear people speak with conviction,
When I see people stand up for themselves
In a calm, assertive, graceful way,
I envy it and I feel: loss.

Now, if I am in mixed company and I am
Being questioned, I often don’t have the words
(I feel less articulate than ever these days!)

I feel heart palpitations,
An electricity that originates
In my chest and miniature-lightening-bolts
Its way
To my finger tips
(Like Raiden)


When I reprimand my SOC4 students
For being generally disrespectful,
I can always rein it in,
But I feel the heat creep up to my
Adam’s apple,
Just in time for me to save face

I feel more sensitive:
If someone is very direct
In a negative way, it bothers me in
A way that it didn’t before.

Something as simple as
Not being able to reach an
Agreement about what time
To go swimming.

Bianca mentioned on Monday that
We should go swimming on Wednesday
If she could get rid of her chest cold.

She emails me Tuesday night and I say:
“Sure: Is 1:15 ok?”

“Let’s make it 1. Evenskis?”

“I don’t leave my classroom until
12:30 and I will need a minute to eat lunch.
1:30 is even enough?”

“No. You said the other day that you finish
At 12 and I want to get home early with
Enough time for a full hour of swimming.
We don’t have to go swimming together.”

“Uuuuuh. Ok.”

So irksome! ****!

I don’t know how to think about this.

If I am reasonable, it’s:
“Ok. It’s very possible I misspoke about my schedule.
She has her **** going on, I don’t know her
Schedule. What I have going on is not more important
Than what she has going on.
Sometimes things don’t work out.”

But this **** isn’t sitting right with me.

“No.” made my heart sink.

“You said…” made me feel like she was
Using my own words against me.

Because I know that she doesn’t work,
I feel like she is being needlessly inflexible
To exercise control of the situation or to be
A martyr.

Gross!

I feel this way from a simple inability to
Patch a 30 minute window together!

I do not feel as strong as I once did.
I do not feel as social as I once was.
I feel like I am standing on firmer ground,
But this seems to have come with a  price.

The Pettiest of **** will either annoy
The **** out of me, or will upset me in a
Way that has me over analyzing the hell out
Of it.

I keep telling myself that there is **** I can do to work
It out. (Liking writing this poem right now. Or talking
To Carla or Heather or Kate).

“Baggage follows you. You can’t leave it on a train platform in Carlsbad.”

That a change of scenery isn’t going to fix it.

But, **** that.

Yes: what is within is very important.
Yes: sorting your **** out will help with outlook and
Perception of environment.

BUT environment is huge too!

Rudolph Giuliani hired a chief of police who
Saw that if you clean a subway car, paint over the graffiti
Every single night,
Graffiti artists will eventually give up.

And taking public transit becomes so much more
Pleasant. People think: “Someone is respecting this space, maybe
I should too.”

And people stop ******* up the subway cars inside and out.
Which leads to people being more likely to pay
Instead of jumping the turnstiles.

Which leads to fewer crimes happening in the underground.

And from there, they deduced that if they made
Neighborhoods less dilapidated and invested time, money
And consistency into maintaining the environment, ****** rates plummet!

Which they did because the movement Tipped.

So there’s that.

Give me a beach and warm, clean air.

Give me a mountain and a lake, hiking trails and occasional tokes.

Give me CLEAN AIR! Please. ****.

Give me people who smile and don’t trample one another.

Give me people who do not hate or ignore one another.

Give me community.

Give me a people who accept who I am.

~~~

I am exchanging intelligence for wisdom.
And so I soften.
Vince Chul'Theg Feb 2017
I have never
(and hopefully
never will be again)
Secretly in such deep
Love with someone

Piano, guitar, trumpet, drums, voice
Brilliant in his ability
To absorb knowledge
His mind a sponge

Consistently chill
Not easily riled

Persistently positive
And funny

When we met I was
An overweight, ******
Textbook closet case
Face in textbooks

Eating and smoking
To fill the void

I’d find any reason at all
To spend time with him

Tennis?
Sure!, Let’s go!

Dinner out?
Who’s driving?

Monty Hall Piano Room?
Let me spark this joint first.

What’s worse was that I
Loved (and still love and adore)
His then girlfriend

And so it was this strange
Situation where I loved
The couple, was secretly
Obsessed with the boy
And so jealous of the girl

But I was too ashamed and
Self-aware to be nasty to her
Because it wasn’t her fault

Shame so locked in my marrow
I couldn’t even project
The insecurity it created

Cristo and Lirah
Would go out for a romantic
Dinner and I’d feel
More alone in those moments
Than any other

So I’d smoke and do school work
Or walk through the woods with Nayla
Or go eat with Jireh

~~~

Side bar: So it turned out that
Jireh had a big ‘ol thing for me

I was so blind because
Of my behavioral asexuality
‘Locked in’ gayness
Love for Cristo

I may have led her on for like, years.
That’s ******.

And John had a thing for Jireh

Weird love non-triangles
All over the ******* place

- - -

We drank so much

I remember drinking every day for
The last month of my junior year
In WC14

Movie night?
Word: White Russians
Pair well with Bladerunner

My shame was so strong that
Even when I was blacked out
(Or nearly blacked out)
I could still use a Treuschler
Bathroom to ****

Then stare at myself in the mirror
And be disgusted with my
Own reflection

“You love him.
You love Cristo.”

“You’re ******* gay, bro.”
“SAY IT. "

"TO ANYONE.”

. . .

“******* coward.”

Shame slicing right
Through the shitfacedness
For self chastisement

- - -

I told him I was gay
At a club in Baltimore a few days
Before I left for Micronesia

He said: “Where are we going
for your send off?”

I said: “The Hippo.”

He said: “You know that’s a
gay bar, right?”

“Yeah, man. It’s cool.”

I told him after returning from
Peace Corps
That I’d been in love
With him in our college
Years

Cool, collected and responsive
As usual, he said:

“Thank you.”
Vince Chul'Theg Feb 2017
The person on earth
I share the most
Genetic makeup
And history with

Always supportive
Of me

Without question

How blessed I am.

I’m not sure sisters like
This just come around

What’s more:
For the most part she was ok
With letting me steal her
Barbies and blue
Tutu

She’s had problems with
Her wrist since
She fell on the playground in
Elementary School and broke it

Like all her childhood possessions,
I was jealous of her
Cast
Neon green and signed

I was living with my
Mom at J.M.'s house
When we were unloading
Groceries from the back
Of his grey truck

The competitive *******
I was, I pushed her while she was bringing
Heavy bags of groceries down
Off of the truck’s bed

She fell back on her ***
And braced her fall with
Her hands

Shooting pain right through
Her bad wrist

She grit her teeth and
Carried the groceries
In behind me crying
Because she couldn’t
Handle the pain

[I’m sure I would have
thrown the plastic food-filled
bags to the asphalt and started
screaming at me]

Those tears

This moment

I would take back
For anything
I'm sorry.
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