First we build bridges
With Lego bricks
In primary colours
And we move on
To build bridges
From  words
With tought
In many languages
Because we have to
And we build bridges
In steel and concrete
Between islands and peninsulas
Between us and them
We prioritise bridges
With our money
On our money
To showcase magnificence
And to replace expired glories
And we cross bridges
In real life and cyberspace
To seek community
In alternate relations
Outside the confines
Of Hans Christian Andersen’s  quiet pond.

Another Autobiographical Anomaly✍️

My memory, how is it working?
Reconstructing what I will,
But no matter how I will it,
Using tricks or keeping still,
It goes downhill while lurking.

Mostly, I can’t get the date
Or the event - details I railed at,
Smiled or wailed at.
Where I laid the pen just used;
That is NOT amusing.

Histamine.
I read that histamine boosts memory.
Priority.
What do I prioritise with ear, nose, eye?

My husband tells a story
But his story and the history keep changing.
Joke?
Sheer smoke based on illusion in the first place?
He’s an honest man.
Why change the plan or plane?
How to help boost our brain!
Enigma
And for some a stigma.

Diet, food:
The marvel is the wondrous good
It does in spite
Of all the things we don’t do right.
We’re losing neurons constantly
From ages six- or seventy.
Exercise:  
Training.  Learning.. Instrument.
Being bent on something!  Anything!
For just about all/everything is heaven sent.
That’s what I read
And what I think,
And where my intuition and my instinct lead.

Anyway, this poem is just another way to do it.
Renewing bits with any course available,
And one in which a syllable will stick.
The main thing is to get a kick
Out of the rhythmic lyric of our life.
Yes?

Another Autobiographical Anomaly 2.11.2019 Pure Nakedness II; Arlene Nover Corwin

Prophetic words
prioritise &
immortalise
that which
we embrace
then slowly paralyse

Realisation supersedes
idealisation:
Prepare
for impact

Taste
the bitter sweet
fruits
you have carefully
nurtured

One inhalation of the sky
To separate the murky sea
And reassure you as you cry
The clouds still hover by your knee.

Two puffs of moonlight left behind
As products of the midnight rose
Then let your sorrow be refined
As angels let their weak wings close.

Three champagne bubbles of a laugh
A courtesy sent by a friend
A flash of lightning in the dark
Like vaulting over to the end.

Step four is harder than the rest
As it depends on nature's strain
Abandon sunshine on your quest
And wallow in torrential rain.

And halfway there it's number five
And rhythm marks a saddened truth
A little song to drown alive
A beacon in such inky youth.

A devil's dance at number six
Invest in favouring your greed
Some crime electrifies the mix
Prioritise things you don't need.

At seven let yourself break free
And choke in sympathetic arms
Unscrew the lock and break the key
Because your friends contain some calm.

Except, at eight you'll be alone
Reciting old quotes that apply
And spending hours on your phone
Relating till your eyes are dry

At number nine then, here it is
The scent of fear that smells like grace
You tune your blood to lightly fizz
And brush the tears from off your face

Ten gashes end the whole ordeal
Of shortened breath and shaking hands
Though sunsets bleed the way you feel
No one else will understand

It's not a choice, it's a command.

Now your mind is stressing less
You've cured the chaos with a mess.

And
before I forget
there's one more thing
Last night And dropped in
like out of the blue
Maybe from the night sky
or just like an unannounced visitor
And walked in, let itself in
And jumped onto my lap
And it said,
though first it looked at my face like some lover,
And said:
And?
And, I said, there are things to be done…
And? said And…
And I'll have to make a list first;
And then prioritise…
And?
And then start…
And?
And then finish…
And was quiet a while
And then And said: And?
And then there'll always be
more things to be done, I said
Always an And…
And?
And, I said, then I'll have make a list again
And prioritise
And then start And then finish…
And it never ends…And it continues…
And And gave me a smile, smug and so satisfied…

And so it goes…this And…though you think And is gone
And just then, when you least expect it,
And is back…And so it goes…this And…

The End…
Oh, no not really The End…it's The And…

Too many people are too quick to wish 'forever' with a person. I'm not saying planning a future with someone is a bad thing, all I'm saying is know the person, really know the person, know who they actually are on the inside, when all the doors are closed and all the weight of the world is gone, know who they are at that moment. Don't plan a future with someone you don't know because if it doesn't work out then you set yourself up for heartbreak. If it ends, not only did you lose the person you love but you also lost your future, your plans, who you thought you'd be and you become lost. Again, I'm not saying don't plan a future with someone you love because it's a beautiful thing and you really should, all I'm saying is don't plan a future with someone who you don't know their views of life, their intentions (especially towards you), their beliefs, what they'd die for, who they'd cry for, who they want to be and how they invision their life. Everyone is wishing for fairytales and happily ever after but you are not Cinderella and one night and a glass slipper won't guarantee forever (or happiness). Happily ever after is earned, you know the person and you love the person and you have gone through **** with the person and you would pick them on their bad days and their good. You would pick them on cheerful days and on days where they're curled up in a ball, crying and feeling like their whole life is falling apart. If you aren't willing to go through hell for a person, no questions asked then save yourself the heartbreak and don't plan anything. Some people are meant to be in your life short term, they're only there to help you learn and grow into the person you're meant to become, they're there to help mold your heart into the perfect shape so it fits just right into your happily ever after's. Not everyone should and would be in your life forever. Learn the difference and prioritise appropriately.

Ifs & whys
Buts & sighs
Time flies
Always denies.

Lows & highs
Ambition dies
No-one tries
Shut eyes.

Come rise
Never apologise
Open surprise
No compromise.

Obvious lies
No disguise
Grow wise
Now realise.

And
before I forget
there's one more thing
Last night And dropped in
like out of the blue
Maybe from the night sky
or just like an unannounced visitor
And walked in, let itself in
And jumped onto my lap
And it said,
though first it looked at my face like some lover,
And said:
And?
And, I said, there are things to be done…
And? said And…
And I'll have to make a list first;
And then prioritise…
And?
And then start…
And?
And then finish…
And was quiet a while
And then And said: And?
And then there'll always be
more things to be done, I said
Always an And…
And?
And, I said, then I'll have make a list again
And prioritise
And then start And then finish…
And it never ends…and it continues…
And And gave me a smile, smug and so satisfied…

And so it goes…this And…though you think And is gone
And just then, when you least expect it,
And is back…And so it goes…this And…

The End…
Oh, no not really The End…it's The And…

you know why i'm not afraid
of plagiarism?
   memes...
          funny, isn't it,
i don't mind, or, rather,
i started to not mind plagiarism...
because the plagiarists have
been inseminated, ***** even,
i don't know whether i ever
owned a puppet,
but if i'm plagiarised i own a:
cohort...
    it's nice...
     you can rule by ridicule
rather than be ridiculed
as ruling,
notably the english monarchy...
it's nice to have pawns who
don't even think they aren't
pawns...
         but that's the beauty
of intellectual virology -
  an idea is like a virus,
  and the fact intact remains
signifying:
               well: go ahead with it...
i don't mind anonymous
"credit" 4 it...
             you think i have
i have any complacency to mind?
    rot the gnat and vermin...
i am the one to fuse
plague and language together...
         man was
always endowed with a heart
and woman with a heart,
when it came to, politics...
women always, meddle...
           how isn't punctuation
important in writing,
given it be necessary that
equate punctuation with rhyme
and consolidate prose with poetics...
    punctuation = rhyme -
                           overseer? yes.
- and why do i not mind plagiarism,
pontius pilate...
            the only person worth
being remembered of the new testament...
oops..
         why do i not mind
plagiarism... i know they'll mutate,
morph...
             but that doesn't matter...
a part of me remains,
  and all the better should the plagiarism
be otherwise be defined...
         but it's too late:
the innocent seed competes
with the forbidden fruit...
i have my paupers and my
                  puppets...
                 for grit and gift of word,
i have my: assembly...
            you can plagiarise all you want,
all i ever gain is yet another
puppeteer's string of
                          limb annexed.
i love the idea of memes & plagiarism...
it means the utmost anonymous
            influence being exerted:
how far is the puppeteer away
from the necrophiliac, may i ask?
   thank you for a chance to
not prioritise a demand for
a gene chronology on the altar of Cronus,
allowing me, to,
   ******* my meme,
rather than consecrating my gene
in the ******* of fake white
             and...
  the agony of what would be to come...
    ever wonder the mystery
of autumn, when a southern wind
blows?

**** it, 9 quid in the bank-account, came back haunted
with my ****** arithmetic and forgetting
how i really didn't prioritise how much i spent:
20 quid in the gas tank... ah one more night...
i always write raw words when drunk
and the kaleidoscope sort of opens,
although the kaleidoscope is in black & white,
so nothing really life changing to be seen
through my side of the lens, but i'm sure
for someone, somewhere, it might be - but that's
beside the point... i have an overdraft
limit of 550 quid - ask why the bank operator said
i had a healthy relationship with money
when i pleaded with her to not take away my
2000 quid overdraft limit in one go, but reduce it
every month by a 100 quid... i was nearly -2000
quid beneath the sea... and i got out... so what's
that and 4 nights of not drinking and writing less,
and writing what i find mundane poetry... eh?
i'll get to watch the complete diet of x files at night
rather than during the way having saved up
three episodes and binging in the afternoon -
but i had to prepare myself for the reduction of
alcohol, cold turkey is kinda hard, but not when
you suddenly decide to do some gardening work
to get excess toxins from your body... gardening...
meaning cutting a 7ft tree to the stump - i was
given orders to do so, it wasn't a mad moment,
the tree was too thorny and prickled - suffocated
by vines... see... boring poetry, too much detail.
so four days with the turkey, avoiding using sleeping
pills therefore staying up all ******* night,
watch a movie, read a book, write a poem...
and then something amazing happened...
don't know why i started watching friday the 13th
part v: a new beginning... i know i know, cheesy,
80s gore and the ****** Doo gang of helpless teenagers,
but that was the aura of pop gore back in that decade,
in the 70s.. the Exorcist and Omen, religious themes,
no! no! this is not going to be a discussion session
on mixing poetry and cinema like James Franco talking
with Frank Bidart... no... what got me from this music...
the absence of 80s diversity in music that's remembered,
because boys said in the 80s: that's cheesy, yet they danced,
they kept the dark, character building bands, angst synth,
whatever, Depeche Mode, the Cure, the Smiths,
that's what was passed down, A-Ha and Duran Duran
on a similar scale, but the latter two by girls...
i can cite Visage, and obviously Europe's final countdown,
Bryan Adams and what not... all the Cheese Disco (it had
to be an oldie word used)... but i mean...
who would have thought that a quirky dance of a girl
in the bedroom (oh yeah, and the Alan  Parsons project,
siouxsie sioux and the banshees, etc. etc.) listening
to Pseudo Echo's song His Eyes got me ticklish
with infatuation as to find the ****** song... enter...
the mighty internet! the best patch of to forage like
rabbit... the track ain't bad... if you're comparing music
within a genre there's a certain feel to it, you don't
go and compare it within trans genre parameters...
now wouldn't we all love to just back the **** up
and talk TRANSGENRE of music rather than what's
happening in the ***** tree oasis in the desert of politics?
compare it with Visage and Kraftwerk, well -

The regrets and
Decisions seem to
Be coming my way
They're mocking at me
For being ignorant
Those times
When I couldn't prioritise
Anything
This time when I wouldn't
Let anything go
This time when I
Want things to be fair
That last time
When I did nothing
All I could do
Was stand and stare
That last minute conversation
With the fever raging high
Those few words spoken
Those unbearable cries
There's a time when
I don't know
What I'm gonna do
I want to dwell in the past
There are no decisions I've taken
My reasoning capability
Soared down
And I cannot
Accept the reality
I can't stand things right now
I can't believe it's happening
It's coming to an end
There are no decisions I've taken
It's coming to an end
It's over.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
For when uneasiness returns to us,
For the times it seems too tough.

These are my promises to you,
My soul written down in text.
For always,
Ti amo bellissimo,
Whatever happens next.

This is more than an “I love you, for love alone is not enough.
“I’m done”, frustration uttered in tense moments,
Yet on Us, I won’t give up.

Stop. A pause is needed,
To tame my thoughts and calm my mind,
Ferocious storm clouds had begun to circle,
The complexities of love and humankind.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
As we take uneasy steps upon new ground,
At times, it may be rough.

‘New Ground’, of which we often speak.
This love found us, we did not seek.
A precious new life within me now
To keep safe and to nurture,
To love unconditionally,
This is my solemn vow.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
Gravitational forces when wild at play,
Are strong and pull too much.
Surging with each lunar pull,
Two minds once clear, now worry full.
Thoughts tidal wave within our seas,
Arise and drag you far from reach.

The language of my actions may speak with a foreign tongue,
Your mind, your being and your smile.
Physically,
Mentally,
Spiritually and emotionally,
With you, I feel is where I belong.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
I ‘m sorry for my mistakes,
I hope we can discuss.
The times we upset each other, not knowing the reasons why,
The promise for the future,
I hope we’ll both continue to try.

A human with a lioness’ heart,
For the things you’ve done,
and the things I have done to you,
Forgiveness is a start.
This lioness can be proud,
I have flaws and imperfections like the rest,
I knew that then,
I know that now.

The long-day trivialities,
The tired and hungry grumps.
Forgotten and forgiven,
When your hands upon our precious bump.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
If love was all we needed,
Relationships wouldn’t fall apart through mistrust.
It’s easy to love another, but if we’re going to truly last,
It’s important to move forward and leave behind the past.

I promise my commitment,
To prioritise you in my life,
Because you exist regardless of your state of being,
To me, you are worth the sacrifice.

When you are sick or weak I’ll hold you and be your strength
I’ll care for you through thick and thin,
Even if your decision is that I respect you wishes,
I’ll still do this is from arms-length.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
If uneasiness returns again,
For the times it seems too tough
These are my promises to you,
My soul and love written down in text,
For always,
Ti amo bellissimo,
Whatever happens next.

I give more than just my words to you, written for you to keep,
I give my heart, my soul and my love to you,
Please absorb them within you deep.
I hope to give much more to you, as we learn along the way
You are loved bellissimo,
The good and the imperfections,
Come what may.

This is more than an “I love you”, for love alone is not enough.
I hope too, for you bellissimo,
That I am all you want.
I hope I am enough.

Soon is the time to take a break
The body aches as high
energy starts to dissipate
This vacuum burns quick without a wick
For your sake vacate to an empty space
Absorb, recharge and wait
Before shadows turn to creep in place

Dedicate some wealth to yourself
Cleanse and replenish vital health
Prioritise the time ahead
This is not the start nor end
Regenerate in wake
More work to come in a second phase

There is only so far one can bend
Patterns formed from social habits
No linear trends
A new way of living is needed to mend

You are all repression
and denial and avoidance
in the face of anything
not ideal
because the alternative is
self hatred
And we both love
you
too much to prioritise
truth
over
your happiness
and do you see now
why
this is killing me

Life in a mess
Mind reflects
Bring call to order
No rest small steps
Routine reigns supreme
Breathe that little bit more
Look a little bit further
Sterner fall through the pane of pain
Prioritise, it'll be worth it
Organised chaos is lived short term
Energy hiltered keep clear use a filter
House of cards can only grow so far
and won't last just wilter

You don't find it.
YOU CREATE IT.
It starts with -
Just because I can, I have the will.
Because I have the will, I have the means,
because I have the means, I allocate time.
Because Time is precious, I Prioritise.
Because priorities compete, I assign equal times to needs.
thus I begin.
Once I begin, I reprioritise, because I can ...

A thought with no action is of no concequence

On a day like today, when we know it's coming,
Those tired eyes fight the self-inflicted fatigue.
Sitting on the porch, blind man is humming,
The sounds of the garden stimulating his intrigue.

He sits in his chair, relaxed, but still,
Whilst all around him, life dances and shouts.
From whistling wind, falling rain, and bird's trill,
The world is painted for him in vibrant bouts.

Though he can't see, he knows pity's gaze,
But those eyes of his will never sting from strain.
He finds beauty in things lost in life's haze,
When people prioritise looks, suffering, and pain.

So pity not the humming blind man,
For he'll forever see more than you yourself can.

After Ten Thousand Years, what will remain; after the seas and sands have reclaimed L.A.?

When the continents don't look the same; shuffled around like dominoes, as God prepares to play another game.

Will the stars our audience stay, though we prioritise these silent spectators above our planetary play?

Then there shall come a day, when no taught tongue these words can say; lest as maxims to complement aristocratic displays. When this poem's rhythm and reason, no researcher can attain.

The Gate Wall has been long erode, rendered flat and smooth; a mat laid out upon the floor. Our precious salads' descendants, both physique and favour now wholly unknown; after Ten Thousand Years Nature's nurture will be shown.

After Ten Thousand Years, humanity will remain, and with their mortal expressions; the savagery of ten eons, nay eternity, shall be tamed.

A useful key to creativity
Write a list of things you need to
do today before you get distracted
by the brain to procrastinate
Prioritise three aims that helps you
produce to consume
The days flick through fast without
a view ahead of what to do
Life is shorter than expected so
hold a set of goals in pursuit
Looking back on what was done
later on fulfils a cycle to review

Double standards
Hypocrisy
One rule for them
Another for thee

Tongues dripping with lies
The fangs are almost out
Better watch your back
Or you’ll be pulling swords, no doubt

Under surveillance
The ever watchful eye
Monitoring your every move
To see if you comply

Rules to be obeyed
Judgements in the ether
You have to respect their laws
Or expect a sermon from their preacher

Live and let live
Doesn’t apply
You’ll be reprimanded
Though you may not understand why

If they disagree with your actions
And the way you prioritise
Because it jars with them
And you eventually they despise

So be careful what you say
And how much you divulge
For it may be held against you
And all favour you had annulled

For familiarity
breeds contempt
Sad but true
I lament

Best to put
Some space between
You and that ‘force’
That notices everything

Take some distance
Step right back
Shield yourself
From unwarranted attacks

I guarantee
It’s for the best
Extract yourself
From the vipers’ nest.

The Tripoli losers


Guns in every untrained hand
                                                    They call it freedom
Zoo animals go unfed a son of Kaddafi fed them’
                                                     It doesn't matter now
We can’t prioritise beasts, they are dumb.
                                                     They have nothing to offer
Global capitalism has no use for them so set them free
                                                      Let the lion free
                                                      Give the camel its desert
  Let the eagle soar high above the humans’ murderous pursuit

Can you tell me
what its like
to fall
so very deeply
in love?

can you tell me what its like
to prioritise another breath
over your own

can you tell me why
i can't  fall in love

or am a monster
born to observe
but never have
anything
that is
love.

title: labrador
body:
Labrador mansion:
bright eyes: see;
tug... tailor... leash.

i find myself rereading some aphorisms by Nietzsche
from human, all too human...
in terms of maxims... aphorisms...
   a Rochefoucauld is on par...
            i sat down with a whiskey and a pickle's worth
of thought... i'm getting my search results
hyped up with self-          -help guru mantras...
i abhor that prefix: self- esp. when it comes enticing
a suffix -help... point being...
there's this burning thought in my head...
   how... rather... a realisation that still prompts me
every time i think about other people's problems...
when it comes to dating... blah blah etc.
i'm sitting down... perfectly alone and thinking...
wait a minute: i... i really don't have these problems...
i tried relationships before...
but... apart from wanting nothing more than
***... the conversation never really satisfied me...
not with a woman...
my last encounter... oh god... i wanted so bad
to get into her ******... but the conversation?
she just complained about her ex-boyfriends...
how one dropped a boy in her womb and ****** off
not paying any child-support...
another was much younger so she could manipulate
him with... whatever scarcity of *** she gave him...
blah blah: punch 1 punch 2... how she sat through
his addictions... how he gave her a bad credit score...
how she's now in debt...
               what conversation would i want to have...
with... that kind... of a woman?
matching her in years... just... 4 years shy...
and... she's clueless... can't control me...
when she tells me her older brother moved back
in with his parents and is being abusive to them...
while i tell her: i haven't moved out
but i do all the house chores... the cooking...
i tried to change the subject of conversation to music...
movies...
but it's like... yeah... Dua Lipa... Mabel...
but i'm not here to talk about her son out of wedlock...
no wonder then...
i went to the brothel about a month ago...
the ***** still sends me selfies of kissing the *******
air and what not... i've been sick for the past week
so i "ghosted" her... no i haven't...
i just haven't been feeling up to scratch...
but i seriously have... no need to talk to women...
once upon a time... oh my god...
i could have been really good friends with her
for the splendour of a lifetime...
but you age... you become... rigid...
         predictable with yourself...
sharing a life with someone of the opposite ***
makes you... doubly predictable to yourself:
since you're no longer living to surprise yourself...
every time i have these thoughts i have
to consolidate myself into thinking:
i'm no companionship material...
    i never was... even if some psychologists roasts
the counter argument:
oh... but women are always right...
for not choosing you... they're right: you're wrong...
it's like... fair enough...
            i sometimes tease the idea of being
a father with the children of strangers...
today, i... "forgot"...
                   the manicurist came round the house
to do my mother nails...
she brought her friend along...
the manicurist brought her toddler...
the manicurist's friend brought her mongrel son...
she's about to get divorced...
my mother described him as an animal:
ADHD she could understand...
i was lying in bed until 1pm waiting for the women
to *******... i heard weird sounds...
the little ******* wasn't watched by his mother...
strange screams to add to the weird sounds...
pushed... pinched... whatever it was he did...
to my female maine **** cat... she expressed her
discomfort... he ****** off...
the manicurist's toddler came to my cat...
she retaliated... scratched the toddler's face...
almost taking out her eye...
                       i remember that one time...
when my dobberman started biting into my Alsatian
*****'s hind... i later smacked him with a belt
and he too almost gauged my eye out...
    if i were in the company of a woman...
right now... would i be listening to post-punk music
from the 1980s... from... Finland?
or the Netherlands? probably not... would i be rereading
Nietzsche? probably not... would i be drinking
whiskey and sitting on a windowsill...
enjoying as much of silence as might be allocated
to... not thinking?
        it's not a harsh realisation...
most only-children figure it out...
well... some do... we're not built for companionship...
i've noticed it at work...
people try to make small-conversations...
i can never make small-conversations...
   i like my silence... tell me what to do...
please... no small-talk...
                   but come to think of it...
i want to write something profound...
           i'm almost gagging to write something profound...
Nietzsche: aphorism 398 -
modesty: women's modesty generally increases
with their beauty...
right... that's the beauty with writing aphorisms /
maxims... people who write them are rarely challenged...
in the immediacy of stated "truth"...
me? i always had this nagging expression...
why do all the beautiful girls become
prostitutes?! for me this maxim / aphorism is FALSE...
women's modesty generally decreases with their
beauty... unless Nietzsche is inviting Socrates':
let my inside be as beautiful as my outside etc. *******...
the most beautiful women are the most immodest
women... well... if beauty is something to be "shared":
i.e. that other men are jealous of a man who
is familiar with a woman of considerable beauty...
once upon a time i heard on the streets of London
when much younger:
a voice said... marry a woman that other men
will not desire... well... great... only a few days ago i was
left mesmerised by spotting a train-spotter at
Stratford Station... armed with his notebook... checking the times
of arrivals... wow...
well... at least he wasn't defeated to his garage playing
with model trains...
i could never write maxims or aphorisms:
they're such a game of hit-and-miss...
you spot one truth... clever enough...
but you miss on another...
    like the prior mentioned quest of equating a woman's
beauty with her modesty... codswallop...
all the really pretty girls become prostitutes...
but aphorism 625 about solitary men...
in short: one must grant certain men their solitude...
and not be silly enough: to pity them...
as is often the case, should such men be addressed...
they'll simply turn around and say:
i pity the company you keep...
perhaps the company you keep...
or the company that keeps you: in company...
solitude is a learning curve...
personally: i never laughed more whole-heartedly
when in company of others:
always when thinking and reacting to my thinking:
solo... i tell myself the best jokes...
i retain all the best jokes: for myself...
no one knows the jokes i've spoken to myself...
and i've always been the only person
to laugh at them...
     now... sharing that... with a woman?
would have become a complete waste of time...
so the pop psychologist dangles this carrot
of why women are picky...
sure... they're picky with regards to men
impregnating them, abandoning them...
or drawing debt in their name so they can't work
in the financial sector... great ******* choices!
i'm not their father... i'm not their uncle...
i'm not stepping up...
the saying is universal: how did you make your bed?
now sleep in it...
    i have trouble sleeping with a cat in my bed...
for a few hours before i knock-myself-out
while listening to the Chants of the Templars...
a ******* cat... imagine having to share
a bed with a woman... unimaginable torture...
i tried that once... each time... one side of my body
turned numb from having to snuggle up
to her... an impossible paradise of touch...
it just bothers me that people are so desperately seeking:
a "friend" to... zombie-out till old age
while watching television, the news...
movies...
can't i be content, alone, watching clouds...
the weather... my shadow?
i just can't be found spewing aphorisms...
truths that have no facts...
sure... well-grounded observations...
but no follow-up justifications...
            i can't bemoan what most men bemoan...
because... most men bemoan...
a fact that... they're wrongly bemoaning about...
an hour with a *******...
on a regular basis... once a month...
would cure them of their ills...
these bemoaning men are not looking
for relationships / companionship...
they're not... they're still to understand that
they're built for the solo-trip...
they're not father material...
me? i don't want to be a father...
i want to remain an arrogant bicyclist...
i want me testosterone levels giving me a break
with an early death...
             these men seem...
conflated by a confusion that... they should have
sought out from a *******... seriously...
i know what i want...
one hour... physical intimacy...
and then... a month... free...
       to do me... for me... and me alone...
write... scuttle... read a little...
watch a... moo-v... alone...
              i don't want a relationship....
these guys have it terribly wrong...
they're not relationship material...
               to elevate ******* is one thing...
to think... you... can... do what... most men
sacrifice from fear of solitude? that's rather another...
it would be like...
so... we're going shopping...
any chance of my going into the vinyl store and
checking out some new records?!
no? just... shoes... and... what the ****?!
now... i could... compensate...
when i told you: first date... let's go to an art gallery...
then the cinema... then to a restaurant...
make a day of a date...
now? i'm not too sure...
i'm not willing to compromise...
                 how men prioritise their life with regards
to their earning is... so... so much different to how
women prioritise their life per se...
regardless of their earnings... since...
women earning their own money is something
completely new...
me? why would i need to earn more money
if i'm not going to spend it?
thereby, also, save it?
               why would i require more?
how much do i need to spend...
how many rainy days are to be expected?
              so... why work more,
to earn more, if i don't need: more?!
                                 i don't need to look pretty
if i can simply look presentable:
washed... tailored...
i don't need to be a ****-upped glitter machine
of chance of flirt;
but i can't be readied for anything more than
than a mere hour of physical intimacy...
i can't do... pair bonding... "relationships"...
watching the television with someone...
the older i become the more i realise this...
sad-but-not-sad-truth...
             it might be a sad truth... but it's a truth:
regardless...
people with the capacity to couple-bond
are sad... since... they are so incapable to
try it out: solo... they have to live and thereby die...
as... halves...
they can never live, or die...
as their unique wholes...
          what a strangely placed focus for a "struggle"...
there is none... to begin with:
or to end with...

You don't have to call me or text me or see me every second,
You just have to answer my calls when I call, be there when I need and stay with me at my low.
You don't have to agree with everything I say,
I want you to tell me if I'm wrong  and lead me to be better.
You don't have to parade me on your social medias, buy me luxury things, take me to fancy restaurants to show how much you love me.
You don't have to put me first. You have your parents, siblings, nephews, nieces, cousins, friends, your health, your life to be prioritise.
You don't have to know every single friend I have,
You just have to know the real friends I have.
You don't have to forgo your friends for me,
they were there for you before I came to your life.

I don't want you to leave them behind for me,
I want to be there with them for you
I don't want you to hurt their feelings just to take care of mine.
I don't want you to let them go just to make me stay.
I don;t want you to argue with them just because you don't want to argue with me.
I don't want you to make them sad just to make me happy.

All I want is to be with you forever and I'll be the luckiest girl in the world.

To have you.

Overcome by sorrow
  
   There is so much misery in the world the bees are dying out
   the bumblebee has disappeared, elephants are sot for their
   ivory, the rhino for their magic horns, fish is being farmed in big tanks
   when are we going to farm sardines?
   So many wars in the Middle East, Africa starves among plenty
  IDF shots small children for the hell of it.
I have no strength to read all of the tragedies, must prioritise
try to feed a starving dog or feel sorry for a mule,
I don't know what to do the suffering is overwhelming I cry
for the small child's death, I shake my head but soldier on there
must be a let up; but no, I can only try to make those nearest me to a bearable day.

I fill my own cup today,
And realize just how satisfying it feels,
I put myself first and think about my needs,
Such a burden it is to never prioritise,
Such a burden it is to choose oneself last,
It is a novel experience, to choose me today,
Looking forward to what lays ahead,
I feel a sense of calm in this strangeness,
Like a river slowly flowing,
I hear the sound of water,
It lulls me to drift away,
Losing myself in the journey I’m about to take,
Making it about me, is not easy,
But I am learning to be free,
Cutting the strings that were once dear,
It’s okay to let go,
You are safe,
I remind myself against the sound of the soothing water,
You are safe,
You are free to fill your own cup
Replenish!

Don’t seek the mirror's fleeting gaze, my friend,
For beauty bends and fades with time's own hand.
The bloom of youth, so fragile and so brief,
Cannot outlast the seasons' endless span.

But oh, your laughter, warm as morning light,
Will age like wine, and with each passing day
It gains a richer hue, a brighter flame,
A gift that even sorrow can't betray.

Your intuition, woven like a cloak,
A tapestry of wisdom, strong and grand,
Will wrap you in its folds, a royal guide,
To steer you through life's ever-shifting sands.

And battles, once too tempting to engage,
You'll leave behind like whispers in the wind.
You'll pick the worthy causes, sharp and clear,
And learn to let the petty wars rescind.

In stillness, like a lotus you will grow,
Each moment blossoms in your mindful grasp.
The present, once elusive, now in reach,
A treasure far too precious to unclasp.

Your heart will learn what time alone can teach,
What's worth your care, what's worthy of your soul.
Like ivy creeping up a castle's wall,
Your sense of worth will flourish and take hold.

So chase not beauty's ghost, my dearest friend,
It shifts and fades like shadows on the shore.
Instead, let all your essence shine and sing,
The traits that make you 'you' forevermore.

For in the end, what truly draws us near,
Is not the face, but hearts that hold us dear.