Let me begin by claiming ignorance
Secondly, your voice pierces,
Steadily but bluntly
Like the tools of Australopithecus
Thirdly, I have other things to do
Fourthly, you’ll find out what it’s like to disappoint
and be disappointed
Fifthly, five fingers I have,
five of which are for his esophagus,
five of which are for you,
and five are for me.
Five times over,
fifth times a charm,
Five times over.

I love children.
Okay let me rephrase that:

I love children that aren't mine.

I have abso-positively-*******-lutey no responsibilities attached to them.
They didn't leave *my body completely wrecked.
They don't look at me and call me "momma"
or any other variation of the name
and I love that
because frankly,
children scare me.

Okay let me rephrase that:
The idea of ruining a child's life scares me.

First off:
I wouldn't think my newborn child is beautiful.
Newborns look like potatoes and I don't particularly find potatoes attractive.

Secondly:
They'd have a name that haunts them in their sleep.
I named my dog Legolas after gorgeous Orlando Bloom in Lord of the Rings so don't try me.
I will name them Harry ******* Potter without batting an eyelash.

Thirdly:
I will be brutally honest with them.
When they ask me why the sky is blue,
I will say that I don't know.
I didn't pay attention enough in school to know.

When they ask me why some boys kiss boys,
I will say that it's perfectly normal.
Mommy probably kissed some girls and boys at some point in her life.

When they ask me why the little girl in their 2nd grade class comes to school with
bruises on her arms,
with her hair in two pigtails,
a smile on her lips,
but fear, loneliness, and heartbreak in her eyes,
I will say that some people in this world don't deserve Angels.
They don't deserve to be alive at all.

When they ask me why they don't ever see their great aunt Perla,
but hear her name whispered at family events,
I will tell them to ask the little girl in their 2nd grade class.

Fourthly:
They will learn to clean house, top to bottom,
The way my momma taught me.
They will hate it.
Then they will hate that they love it.

Fifthly:
I will argue with them every step of the way until they can learn to hold their own.
But until then,
No, you may not have $60 to go shopping.
Unless you're buying books or music.
Then you can have $100.

Lastly:
I will teach them to love.
My love for them will be overbearing, smothering, and unwavering.
This is how they will love their children.

But when they finally ask me what love is,
I will smile,
bittersweetly,
and say that love is...

Love is drowning in the ocean,
gasping for air that never quite reaches your lungs,
but when it does,
it hurts
because water doesn't belong in your lungs.

You can't help breathing the water in, however.
You just want it.
Want something to fill you, to overwhelm you.

Love is repeating this, over and over until one day,
the breathing
doesn't hurt anymore.

There is no more water in your lungs.
Just air.

There is water still, all around you,
but you are not drowning anymore.

You're swimming.

You, my dear, sweet, beautiful, hypothetical child,
are swimming!

*which is something that I have yet to do.

Firstly:
There is a balance
that regulates karmic disturbances.
If something good happens to you
inevitably, something bad will happen too.
The number of good things
is equal to the number of bad things.
One big good thing may be equivalent
to many small bad things,
but it all evens out in the end,
no matter what.

Secondly:
The trick is to learn to be content.
Not sad not happy,
simply attain a level of contentment
that you can reach even when you are alone.
If you have this foundation of contentment
you will never find yourself sinking too far
beneath the surface.

Thirdly:
Reject anything less than the sky.
Find the person that is the hurricane
to your rain.
Never be happy to accept the bad things
or to be merely content.
Defy all of the expectations that hover over you
like a dull drizzle.
Escape from anything
that feels normal and mundane.

Fourthly:
Never make a decision that
you believe is wrong.
There is nothing worse than
doing something that you cannot justify,
no regret more powerful
than the regret of betraying your heart,
going against your morals,
allowing someone else to make your choice
and use your voice.

Fifthly:
Tell the truth.
Don't say anything unless something needs to be said
and don't bother to say anything you don't mean.
Speak from the heart.
Don't do something if it means nothing to you.
Let people tell you their stories.
Never interrupt because you never know when
someone is telling you something
that is difficult for them to say.

Six
Never be less than what you are.
Don't make yourself smaller
to accomodate others.
Believe that you are a person worth knowing.
Believe that yours is a life worth living.
Know that you matter

Seven:
If you want to be loved,
be loveable.
Acknowledge feelings of jealousy
and bitterness
but don't let them poison your thoughts
or motivate your actions.
Never act spitefully towards someone who has hurt you
because one day you might be the one doing the hurting.
Never assume you know the reasoning
behind someone's actions or words.
Remember that people don't necessarily mean everything they say
and that the things they do
aren't binding or permanent.
Feelings change and grow or disappear.
Consider this:
would you rather be loved falsely, or rejected truthfully?
And this:
we don't always love the people who love us, so why would we want
to try and force someone to care for us if they don't?

Eight:
Realize that your actions affect others,
and that your actions can have repercussions
beyond yourself.
Treat people the same way that you would like to be treated,
and don't be afraid to do stupid things
if it makes someone smile.
Small interactions can mean the world,
a simple hello will often suffice.

Nine:
Don't forget about your family.
They are your roots and they love you unconditionally.
You do not necessarily need to like them,
but you need to save a little space in your heart for them.
Do not take them, or anyone else in your life,
for granted.
Things change, people get sick, accidents happen.
Be sure that all of your words are kind so you can
Make sure that your last words are kind.

Ten:
Forgive easily and quickly.
Give unlimited second chances.
Apologize even if you are not at fault.
Reach out your hand, even if no one reaches out for you.
Do not hold grudges or seek revenge.
There is no conflict without cause, so
Do not be or create the cause.

Eleventhly:
Never forget how to view the world through the eyes of a child.
Earn the respect and friendship of children.
Be someone that you would like to introduce to your
seven year old self.

Twelfth:
Don't show your heart to just anyone.
But if given the chance
unleash the universe that lives inside of you
every forgotten corner and supernova of emotion
Share the chronicles of your life
the dusty memories and vibrant moments of impact
woven together into the fabric of your life
A fabric that is always changing
and never quite complete

I Hear America sniveling
A nod to Walt Whitman,

I hear America sniveling, life of hardships
Those are the nurse’s aide, each sniveling
looking tired and worn out
Petrified of being on the morning shift
The Porter sniveling as he drags
the fifthly mop down the corridor
The “Don’t walk signs.
Which everyone seems to ignore

The cooks crying as he wakes up early searching for dietary old ladle
Just to meet the breakfast rush, with sleep still in his eyes: his life seem to be a lie

The doorman sniveling as the workers rush through the doors
The looks on their faces, his hands stay closer to the company Tasers
The foreigner taxi cabs drivers speed a headed of each other for two dollars ride
As they tries their best to form a complete sentence..
Knowingly, that his spoken words is grammatically incorrect

The babies sniveling as they mother drop them off at the sitters,
  Poor babies wish they could stay all day in their mother’s arm
The poor man sniveling, can be heard through the land, America
The rich man broad smiles as he killed another elephant for their ivory
Takes images proclaiming victory

The sadness of the hardest workers, or the elderly folks in pain
Shows an undivided world of tough hardships and poor leaderships
Each one to his or her own self, like homeless man Robert in the rain
We wakes up each day under the same sun, the same cruelty and injustice
the testing nuclear weapons in the atmosphere  since 1945 and just recently another test
And we continues this repeat, and the more we feel and see or smile turn into frowns
I heard America sniveling:

*Even in hardship, God’s goodness prevails.” E
― Todd Stocker,

A SILKEN CHAIN

The wolf
they call Death

has taken you
to its lair

in the far far away
of long long ago.

Like those Norse craftsmen
from the Nowhere of Time

I am called upon
to fashion

a silken chain
to bind you...to me.

I unwilling
to let you go.

I search for the firstly
secondly and thirdly.

The fourthly and fifthly
and the sixthly and lastly.

Not knowing the what
and wherefore of it all.

I find the footsteps
of a cat.

The breath
of a chicken.

The spittle
of a bird.

The roots of a mountain.

Unable now to think
of the last two.

So, Death holds you
but - so do I.

You are tied
to us both.

The silken chain of
love and memory.

several paragraphs into the grip on populism
article, while watching a youtube video of
a girl... worrying about the status: single...
something begins to smell fishy...
(a) are we starting to talk about
the legality of abortion,
and moving into the territory
of the "legality" of divorce?
                oh... i'm pretty sure we are...
abortion is gone,
in terms of jurisprudence interests...
the new question, the question concern
divorce... can divorce be legal?
    it's not a question!

i had something prepared prior,
but i seem to have forgotten it,
maybe if i write some more,
i'll remember it...
  
  remember it.........................................
remember it...............................

maybe this one:
branding -
jobless loser..
this that and the other...
       you think that is easy
journalistic
click-bait?
   i think that's Ted Bundy bait...
sorry...
       not naming serial killers
or mass killers by the mass media
is one thing...
but?
   but?! shaming them?
what do you think agitates and
subsequently prompts
a mass / serial killer?
the opinions of the people
around him,
or the media class stereotyping
the sort of person he might be?
i think the latter...

      how can people freedom
from the violence perpetrated by killers...
when they're...
        so argued...
abused... called names...
sure! don't name them!
but then don't
succumb to stereotyping them!
loser! jobless!
idiot!
                 loser! loser!
loser!
            let me enlighten you
on the masculine physique...

   but no... i won't...
the word loser...
it has specific phonetic content...
   it's an... well.. best described at...
it's an... "itchy" word...
               it's a word equivalent
of actually performing
a castration in the western world...

do, you, understand?!
i'll have to write like i might be
a boarder guard talking to
Mexican migrants, talking
to middle class Americans...

do, you, understand?!
you don't pass certain thresholds!
you, understand?!
understand?!
        non si comprende?!
non si?

you normies are pushing the wrong
trigger-happy *******...
i'm telling, no... i'm ASKING you...
non si comprende?!
  hey! stupid! hey! stupid!
(smack the head of a normie)
i said! hey! stupid!
          you wanna be a target
in the shooting range?!
yo! STUPID?!
IDIOTA QUERER A CONOCER LOCO?!
yes? no?

**** me,
i've become so feverish in my approach
that i'm experiencing
temporary amnesia...
i know i was supposed to write
something beside this,
but the beside this,
infringed on what was originally
intended...

because i know what words
agitate people...
certain people...

    let's take a word with a due
need for accessing a linguistically forensic
scalpel, cutting it open...

disease: some people relish that word...
with a certain fading disgust...

but?

        dis-         -ease...

a different story!

dis-? it's a prefix of denial, negation...
now couple it...
what do you get?

           a negation of ease...
a denial of ease...

                         that's what disease is...
it's not a horrid circumstance that requires
quarantine parameters...
esp. when someone doesn't break
the word down...
  into its prefix and affix parameters...

i know that sometimes a word transcends
a simple ratio conclusion -
i.e. my door is broken = screws + a screwdriver...
or whatever...

what did i have in mind,
"originally"?
whatever it was, it morphed...
now... i can't remember...
well, let's face it...
sometimes you're supposed to forget
something
that you wanted to remember
and write down,
even if the time-span only lasts
a few minutes...

conclusion?
the faculty of memory should have
it's own ontological study,
equivalent to being...
given that...
the faculty of imagination...
has its "study" in its unconscious
expression of dreams...
last time i heard...
memory only goes as far as
the subconscious...
that said, thus to reiterate...
memory could be deemed worthy
of an ontological study...

thus said:

being is equivalent of consciousness,
memory is the equivalent of
the subconscious,
imagination - as proof of the existence
of dreams, being equivalent of
the unconscious....

but only esse (qua cogitans), and memory,
are suspect of an ontological study...
imagination, and the unconscious...
dreams... the pristine fields of study
for a psyche - and whatever logical
rubric might be attributed to its study...

primo: morior animea mea ex deus
beta: morior mea cogitatio ex deus
tertio: morior animea mea
quarto: morior mea cogitatio
quinto: deus morior.

first dies my animation out of god
second dies my thought out of god,
   thirdly dies my animation
fourthly dies my thought
(only) fifthly god dies...

only then...
            Nietzsche is correct
with his...
       presupposition maxim...
  a presupposition that became a proposition...
no wonder why he went mad...
learned minds are pedantic...
and pedantic logical structures do not
entertain
                inconsistencies,
like they do not entertain: entrytame
duslexic / dyslexic spelling mistakes...

gott ist tot....
               ja... gott ist tot...
   aber wenn ich bin tot mit ihm!

"FOR HE WILL NOT DO DESTRUCTION IF..."

everything in the room
flowed like a river
towards the open window

that held Spring in its grasp
the billowing net curtains
holding the season prisoner

a blue so blue
one has to gasp
a green that made

one feel so alive
even the walls
rushed towards it

trying to escape
their own room
a chair

lying on its back
like an insect
trying to right itself

but furious
at failing
a picture had been

knocked sideways
and a trail
of broken mirror

led to the ledge
showing the room itself
in small and smaller fragments

the clock alarmed
to find itself
on the carpet

its battery flung just
out of reach
time gone quiet

the cat careless
of this trail of destruction
now poised

upon the shiny table
knocking over
the geranium ***

gazing in green
eyes towards
the portal

of the open window
that led to
the great beyond

the feline
leaping
into the what's

to come
leaving this human
room behind

*

The title is taken from one of the most delightful and best-known poems in praise of a house cat, Christopher Smart’s “My Cat, Jeoffry” which is actually one section of a much more complex and difficult work entitled Jubilate Agno (Latin for “Rejoice in the Lamb”), composed while the poet was locked in a private madhouse because of religious mania in 1759 or 1760.  

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For tenthly he goes in quest of food.

First get that temp
or else others in the sickness will last till Lent.
Second get the penicillin medication
or else they'd be a letdown.
Third get some rest.
It'll test your est.
Fourth, give to the doctor a report
or else you'll be stuck.
Fifthly, don't expect a cup of broth
to give you a life when you need it
to fight it
The sixth the fever that
it doesn't come from a sloe gin fizz.
The seventh answer yourself.
Don't daydream of counting sheep.
You free yourself if
and just fall asleep.

Firstly,
do not allow yourself
to be controlled.

Secondly,
indulge, but not too much.

Thirdly,
enjoy every moment
and learn from those moments.

Fourthly,
gratitude is important.
Use it.

And fifthly,
do not tolerate hatred,
rather,
diffuse it and be kind.