"permissiveness" poems
Freedom is nonexistent
Liberty is a lie
Independence is fiction
Emancipation is a death
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 3:15 PM UTC
Tap dance on girders, Ben Franklin Bridge
Jubilant prepubescent boy making mockery
Alpha doggie dodging any common sense
Step ball change and windmills free range
Little show off teetering on brink of disaster
And a dare of unabashed audacity
Stare, stare, and stare down his prey
Tap a whack tap, double time flick flack
Intensity that cannot possibly go away
Dared youth’s eyes give all hints to fear
Though no tear will come to his pride
Other boy steps and glides
Reach comes forward, disaster tap mongrel
Puppy stepper’s got to be a go-getter
Holds his hand out and comes quick the grab
Trembles a fright, Speedline in sight
This rail from Jersey to Pennsy might bite
Shaking and tapping, absurdum jacking
The slip; it’s over as you knew it would be
Alpha Dog sniffs that bridge to this day
Searching permissiveness, lost in foray
But if he hears one tap or a click or a clank
Jittery twitchiness, on that you can bank
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 5:59 PM UTC
It all starts in the beginning, where the innocence of infancy is wrapped in swaddling-cloth and guarded from the prevalent realities which are, in hindsight, considered to be non-existent. Give a standing ovation for childhood deception, which promotes secrecy in the name of what is called “child protection”. Those obvious characteristics of what is known to be adulthood, have an expression of moral permissiveness which is grounded in a fallacy. But the best is yet to come, as it is more blatant than expected. That sheltered level of ontology soon becomes an unadulterated exposure to expectations that were previously unanticipated. Life truly is full of surprises, isn’t it? So listen up, and harken to the threefold beat of the womb:
May you have the hindsight to know where you have been.
May you have the insight to know where you are.
May you have the foresight to know where you are going.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
Please enlighten me in my utmost presumption, because I fall victim to the limitations of sense-datum.
However, I feel no conviction around my ambivalence because their truly is an ebb and flow of permissiveness.
Oh, the texture of Egyptian cotton is shameless within the spread of her luxurious, symmetrical and prestigious corners.
Please, do not open the door, for I suspect that the wolf will be at large. Let us not become so encapsulated by systems at the expense of metaphysics.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
he was going to teach me how
to pick a lock and hot wire a car
but he went back to prison
I swear, he had a good heart
he was just livin’ the life he knew
adopted in infancy
an idyllic ranch life
going out barefoot and shirtless in the snow
to feed the horses
still, divorce happens
his mother got custody
but blanked out in permissiveness
allowing him whatever
she wanted to play good cop
as divorced parents sometimes do
he would disappear for a week
communing in the canyons; survival skills
drinking water by the rocks
checking jack rabbits for spots
“everything is seasonal” he would tell me
when his mother remarried a drunkard
my friend would don dark clothing and a ski mask
to rob his drunken step dad every payday
to put food on the table
you see, he had a good heart
just livin’ the life he knew
leading a life of drugs
and not just using
he could drink his stuff but also liked Perrier
a life of crime
store front window smash and grabs
in stolen cars
getting involved with big time dealers
still, I swear he had a good heart
just livin’ the life he knew
once asked him why
he never offered me drugs
“Why would I?” he replied
you see, a friend would never do that
he would jump up and say, “No!”
if I pretended to reach for a cigarette
--a regular cigarette
he knew well their addictive nature
knew his lungs were tweeked
and didn’t want me to ruin my voice
I had a beautiful voice
he had a good heart
just livin’ the life he knew
sent to the fire camps up north
in his element in the woods
at peace with himself out in nature
knowledgeable, skillful, personable
upon release they told him
"stay clean till November"
he would have a job waiting for him
he had a good heart
but went back to the life he knew
the last time in prison
he “stuck” someone
it scared him because this time
he didn’t feel anything
didn’t ask him what he meant
we never talked about it again
still, I swear he had a good heart
just livin’ the life he knew
he was in the hospital
last time we talked
he knew he was dying
his sister told me he was scared
it’s been a long time
but I think he was in his twenties
a life of hard times
a death in regret
surely God knew
he had a good heart
he was just livin’ the life he knew
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC