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Stephen Nov 2018
Man
Invents Art.

Man
Learns
To appreciate Art.

Man
Realizes
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is Art.

Man
Invents God.

Man learns
To appreciate God.

Man
Realizes,
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is God,
Is Art.

Man
Invents religion.

Man
Learns to fear God.

Man
Forgets,
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is God,
Is Art.

Man
Invents sin.

Man
Learns
Art is sin.

Man forgets,
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is Art,
Is God.

Man
Invents hate.

Man
Learns
To hate other man.
Other man different,
Other man never learn fear,
Other man still Artist.
Other man never learn,
Art is sin.

Man
Forgets,
All men,
All people,
Are Art,
Are God.

Man
Invents law.

Man
Learns
To use law
As a weapon
Against other man.

Other man
Realizes,
Man
forgot,
All men,
All people,
Are Art,
Are God.

Other man
Invents teaching.

Other man
Teaches man,
"Remember,
All men,
All people,
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is Art,
Is God.

Other man
Realizes,
Man too blind,
Too afraid,
To see truth;
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is Art,
Is God.

Man
Invents war.
Kills other man.

Man
Refuses to learn,
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is Art,
Is God.

Man
Forgets,
Man
And Other man
Are same.
Both are Art.
Both are God.

Man
Invents propaganda.

Man
Teaches man
"Other man different.
Other man bad.
Other man sin.
Be afraid,
Be very afraid."

Man
Kills other man.

Man
Invents self-delusion.

Man
Learns
To believe what man was taught;
Other man scary,
Other man hates man,
Hates God.

Man
Never realizes
Other man,
All men,
Whole world,
Whole universe,
Is God,
Is Art.

Man
Never realizes,
He is other man,
Other man is him.
Fah Aug 2013
(via phatphilosophers)

(via phatphilosophers)

(via phatphilosophers)
jeffrey-lebowski:

Untitled by Yayoi Kusama.
Acrylic on canvas, 45.5 x 38.0 cm. Signed and dated 1993
jeffrey-lebowski:
Untitled by Yayoi Kusama.
Acrylic on canvas, 45.5 x 38.0 cm. Signed and dated 1993
(via phatphilosophers)

These are the days that must happen to you.
Walt Whitman, from Leaves Of Grass (via violentwavesofemotion)
(via phatphilosophers)
18 HOURS AGO / LARMOYANTE
axiatonal:

Canola Flowers Field, China
axiatonal:
Canola Flowers Field, China
(via awaveofbliss)

(via awaveofbliss)

whatisadvertising:
What would modern technology and social networks look like if they were vintage ads
This is a post gathered Facebook, Twitter, Youtube, Skype, iMac, Nintendo Wii and Sony Playstation as if they were vintage ads.
(via thebronxisburning)
aplacetofindlife:

Someone Should Start Laughing
I have a thousand brilliant lies For the question: How are you?  I have a thousand brilliant lies For the question: What is God? If you think that the Truth can be known From words, If you think that the Sun and the Ocean Can pass through that tiny opening Called the mouth,
O someone should start laughing! Someone should start wildly Laughing Now!- Hafiz
aplacetofindlife:
Someone Should Start Laughing

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:
How are you?

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:
What is God?

If you think that the Truth can be known
From words,

If you think that the Sun and the Ocean
Can pass through that tiny opening Called the mouth,

O someone should start laughing!
Someone should start wildly Laughing Now!

- Hafiz
(via cosmic-rebirth)

meditationsinwonderland:
Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche, We Should All Be Feminists
How could I not reblog this?
(Source: bakongo)
1 day ago – 234,004 notes

artismyempire:
gentledom:
A wonderful analogy.
What I shall do today.
(Source: boyqueen, via thebronxisburning)
1 day ago – 30,054 notes

(Source: maryhadalittleblunt, via awaveofbliss)
1 week ago – 81 notes
beachsloth:

SYNESTHESIA by Joshua Espinoza
                God watches everyone’s first kiss. Although God used to be an awesome God He’s been a bit lazier as the years have progressed. Long ago God felt that raining frogs on Egypt was cool. People were turned into pillars of salt for looking at the destruction of their towns. Now God isn’t into that whole vengeful thing. Rather He realizes the importance of free will and understands it is more important than any instruction manual.
                Dreams are the ultimate instructional manual. Sub-conscious hates being a sub. Sub-conscious wants to be dom-conscious. Unfortunately such things do not happen anymore. Drinking dreams from people is potentially delicious. Flab is the hallmark of a family man or woman. Their dreams have become realities. Mere impulses of creatures become vaguely self-sustaining then fully self-sustaining. Right in the heart is where the familial love lives. Floaters in the eyes are more than floaters. When one sees floaters they see ghosts. Floaters are ghosts for the vision-impaired.
                Afterlife is big into God. Death brings people closer to God. They live in God’s domain hoping for the best. From on high the angels live on the down low. Beneath angels are the exciting ones, the ones they can and do mess up. Humans are interesting for their ability to mess up all the time and somehow remain completely loved. Every human is made in God’s image. Once people come back to God they realize how much of their decisions were good, how the evil was more than counterbalanced by the good. Living in Earth tends to make people forget how fortunate they really are.
                The world hates leaving people behind. In Heaven everything is fine. From Heaven people can see themselves from light-years away. Such distance makes it easier to see what the right and wrong decision was. Death takes the people away. Online presences remain long after the body has left. Everything has a digital footprint entirely different from their real life footprint. Sometimes it is bigger and sometimes smaller. It depends on the lust for life.
                Kissing is a form of lust. Lips love each other. Lips like locking together. That is where the key to the heart comes from, from the lips. Words flow from the mouths of babes. Life means the words work well but the tones work better. Even babies understand the importance of tone. Words are meaningless. Tones are tender. People wrap themselves up in tones, in the environmental sounds that surround them for that is what it means to be alive: it means to interact.
beachsloth:
SYNESTHESIA by Joshua Espinoza
                God watches everyone’s first kiss. Although God used to be an awesome God He’s been a bit lazier as the years have progressed. Long ago God felt that raining frogs on Egypt was cool. People were turned into pillars of salt for looking at the destruction of their towns. Now God isn’t into that whole vengeful thing. Rather He realizes the importance of free will and understands it is more important than any instruction manual.
                Dreams are the ultimate instructional manual. Sub-conscious hates being a sub. Sub-conscious wants to be dom-conscious. Unfortunately such things do not happen anymore. Drinking dreams from people is potentially delicious. Flab is the hallmark of a family man or woman. Their dreams have become realities. Mere impulses of creatures become vaguely self-sustaining then fully self-sustaining. Right in the heart is where the familial love lives. Floaters in the eyes are more than floaters. When one sees floaters they see ghosts. Floaters are ghosts for the vision-impaired.
                Afterlife is big into God. Death brings people closer to God. They live in God’s domain hoping for the best. From on high the angels live on the down low. Beneath angels are the exciting ones, the ones they can and do mess up. Humans are interesting for their ability to mess up all the time and somehow remain completely loved. Every human is made in God’s image. Once people come back to God they realize how much of their decisions were good, how the evil was more than counterbalanced by the good. Living in Earth tends to make people forget how fortunate they really are.
                The world hates leaving people behind. In Heaven everything is fine. From Heaven people can see themselves from light-years away. Such distance makes it easier to see what the right and wrong decision was. Death takes the people away. Online presences remain long after the body has left. Everything has a digital footprint entirely different from their real life footprint. Sometimes it is bigger and sometimes smaller. It depends on the lust for life.
                Kissing is a form of lust. Lips love each other. Lips like locking together. That is where the key to the heart comes from, from the lips. Words flow from the mouths of babes. Life means the words work well but the tones work better. Even babies understand the importance of tone. Words are meaningless. Tones are tender. People wrap themselves up in tones, in the environmental sounds that surround them for that is what it means to be alive: it means to interact.
(via bluishtigers)
1 week ago – 74 notes

(Source: samsaranmusing)
1 week ago – 78 notes
maymonsturr:

My mantra.
maymonsturr:
My mantra.
(via cosmic-rebirth)
1 week ago – 568 notes
foxxxynegrodamus:

***
foxxxynegrodamus:
***
(Source: lnpfeed, via awaveofbliss)
1 week ago – 1,635 notes
cosmic-rebirth:

Live joyfully, make your life a dance, all the way to the grave.
cosmic-rebirth:
Live joyfully, make your life a dance, all the way to the grave.
(Source: cookiecarnival)
2 weeks ago – 22,305 notes
“The point is not to pay back kindness but to pass it on.”
– Julia Alvarez (via cosmic-rebirth)
(Source: amandaonwriting, via cosmic-rebirth)
2 weeks ago – 275 notes

(Source: diawf, via awaveofbliss)
2 weeks ago – 2,799 notes
bl4ckhippie:

Fly.
bl4ckhippie:
Fly.
(Source: rootsrukkus, via awaveofbliss)
2 weeks ago – 750 notes

(Source: lizzlizzcomics, via bluishtigers)
2 weeks ago – 110,456 notes
meditationsinwonderland:

ॐ flower child in Wonderland ॐ
meditationsinwonderland:
ॐ flower child in Wonderland ॐ
(Source: vegan-hippie)
2 weeks ago – 139,177 notes

(Source: jrich103, via cosmic-rebirth)
2 weeks ago – 4,848 notes

pleoros:
Helminadia Ranford - Guilin,China
(via hungryforworld)
2 weeks ago – 329 notes
designgather:

Oak Room
Andy Goldsworthy
designgather:
Oak Room
Andy Goldsworthy
(via cosmic-rebirth)
2 weeks ago – 286 notes
miguu:
don’t be afraid.
lean into your genius.
let your own brilliance support you.
you are something
we have all been waiting to know.
please.
(via bluishtigers)
2 weeks ago – 339 notes

odditiesoflife:
Amazing Jabuticaba Tree
This is an incredible tree that bears its fruit directly on the main trunks and branches of the plant, lending a distinctive appearance to the fruiting tree. The jabuticaba (Plinia cauliflora) is a fruit-bearing tree native to Minas Gerais and São Paulo in southeastern Brazil. Otherwise known as the Brazilian Grape Tree, the jabuticaba is grown for its purplish-black, white-pulped fruits. They can be eaten raw or be used to make jellies and drinks, including juice and wine.
They are wonderful trees to have and are fairly adaptable to most environments but they grow extremely slow. Jabuticaba flowers are white and grow directly from its trunk, just like its fruit. The tree may flower and fruit only once or twice a year, but when continuously irrigated, it flowers frequently and fresh fruit can be available year round in tropical regions.
Common in Brazilian markets, jabuticabas are largely eaten fresh; their popularity has been likened to that of grapes in the US. Due to its extremely short shelf-life, fresh jabuticaba fruit is very rare in markets outside of areas of cultivation. So if you are ever in Brazil, be sure to try the incredibly tasty fruit called jabuticaba.
source 1, 2
(via hungryforworld)
2 weeks ago – 1,462 notes

(Source: samsaranmusing)
2 weeks ago – 118 notes

(Source: rorycwhatsyourthesis, via samsaranmusing)
2 weeks ago – 130,113 notes
oecologia:

Star Trails over Matterhorn (Switzerland) by Felix Lamouroux.
oecologia:
Star Trails over Matterhorn (Switzerland) by Felix Lamouroux.
(via samsaranmusing)

burningveins:
multicolors:
benskid:
Know where you stand.
Wow
This is kinda creepy..
(via hungryforworld)

Do not think you will necessarily be aware of your own enlightenment.
Zen Master Dogen - (1200- 1253) AD (via samsaranmusing)
2 WEEKS AGO
101fuymemes:

COLLECTION OF awesome CLOUDS
101fuymemes:
COLLECTION OF awesome CLOUDS
(via roslynoberholtzerbddd)

itscolossal:
Planetary Structural Layer Cakes Designed by Cakecrumbs

Do not resist events that move you out of your comfort zone, especially when your comfort zone was not all that comfortable.
Alan Cohen (via raeraenjma)
(via awaveofbliss)
4 WEEKS AGO / THE-HEALING-NEST
so apt
so apt
(via awaveofbliss)

(via awaveofbliss)
treewellie:

"The area between Kluane Lake and Haines Junction, Yukon, skirting the great cordillera of the Wrangell / St. Elias Mtn. range, is commonly productive of these stacked lenticular clouds … In late summer, as the sun begins to set around 11 PM, it’s beautiful to see these unique clouds, which are higher in altitude than their surrounding companions, catching the last peach coloured rays of the sun."
treewellie:
"The area between Kluane Lake and Haines Junction, Yukon, skirting the great cordillera of the Wrangell / St. Elias Mtn. range, is commonly productive of these stacked lenticular clouds … In late summer, as the sun begins to set around 11 PM, it’s beautiful to see these unique clouds, which are higher in altitude than their surrounding companions, catching the last peach coloured rays of the sun."
definitelydope:

BBQ on the balcony (by fernlicht)
definitelydope:
BBQ on the balcony (by fernlicht)
(via awaveofbliss)

Birth by Alex Grey
Birth by Alex Grey
(via receptive)

(via bluishtigers)

(via awaveofbliss)

There is a time and place for decaf coffee. Never and in the trash.
(via 17yr)
(via hungryforworld)
1 MONTH AGO / MIDWESTRAISEDMIDWESTLIVING
surreelust:

Man with His Skin by Peter Zokosky
surreelust:
Man with His Skin by Peter Zokosky
(via cosmic-rebirth)

Oh soul,
you worry too much.
You have seen your own strength.
You have seen your own beauty.
You have seen your golden wings.
Of anything less,
why do you worry?
You are in truth
the soul, of the soul,
of the soul.
Rumi, from Who Am I?   (via bluishtigers)
(via bluishtigers)
1 MONTH AGO / VIOLENTWAVESOFEMOTION
xpudding:

xpudding:
(via cosmic-rebirth)

(via thebronxisburning)

(via cosmic-rebirth)
treewellie:

La costa de la luz by Francisco Mingorance
treewellie:
La costa de la luz by Francisco Mingorance

itscolossal:
Mirror City: A Kaleidoscopic Timelapse of Chicago, San Francisco, San Diego, Vegas and L.A. [VIDEO]

(via cosmic-rebirth)

awkwardsituationist:
gmb akash documents the 350 kilometre journey from dhaka to sylhet, bangladesh made by those who, unable to afford the price of a ticket or find room to ride inside, risk death by traveling atop and between train cars
(via suntochukwu)
purpleaggregates:

White Tara The female enlightened being of long life, wisdom and good fortune When I see the signs of untimely death, May I immediately receive the blessings of Arya Tara; And, having destroyed the Lord of Death, May I quickly attain the deathless vajra body. OM TARE TUTTARE TURE MAMA AYUR PUNAYE GYANA PUTRIM KURU YE SÖHA OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SÖHA
purpleaggregates:
White Tara
The female enlightened being of long life, wisdom and good fortune

When I see the signs of untimely death,
May I immediately receive the blessings of Arya Tara;
And, having destroyed the Lord of Death,
May I quickly attain the deathless vajra body.

OM TARE TUTTARE TURE MAMA AYUR PUNAYE GYANA PUTRIM KURU YE SÖHA
OM TARE TUTTARE TURE SÖHA
(via dancingdakini)

(via guerrillatech)
hungryforworld:

Monet’s Garden. Givery, France.
hungryforworld:
Monet’s Garden. Givery, France.

(via awaveofbliss)

(via cosmic-rebirth)

Internal and external are ultimately one. When you no longer perceive the world as hostile, there is no more fear, and when there is no more fear, you think, speak and act differently. Love and compassion arise, and they affect the world.
Eckhart Tolle (via samsaranmusing)
(via suntochukwu)
1 MONTH AGO / SAMSARANMUSING
malformalady:

The golden spiral of fungus. In geometry, a golden spiral is a logarithmic spiral whose growth factor is φ, the golden ratio. That is, a golden spiral gets wider (or further from its origin) by a factor of φ for every quarter turn it makes.
Photo credit: Devin Raber
malformalady:
The golden spiral of fungus. In geometry, a golden spiral is a logarithmic spiral whose growth factor is φ, the golden ratio. That is, a golden spiral gets wider (or further from its origin) by a factor of φ for every quarter turn it makes.
Photo credit: Devin Raber
(via deeperthansoul)
polaroidsf:

Welcome to Eden
polaroidsf:
Welcome to Eden

(via bouddra)

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of
meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for
your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
Ms Ann Thrope Jun 2014
The Sunflower is awfully bigheaded

For being so tall & gangly

With fiery blooms, rough around the edges

He’s quite a sight to see annually

He looks down upon all the other flowers

With his head so high in the sky

This makes the other flowers jealous

But they fail to realize the sunflower lives a lie

Because the problem with the sunflower

Is that he turns his back on the sun

Creating the misconception

That he does not need anyone

But through the circadian rhythm

His leaves continuously change

Eluding the very revelation

That the sunflower causes his own pain

So as the sun begins to set

The sunflower realizes what he’s done

He faces the darkness with much regret

Realizing he cannot live without the sun
Written circa September 2011
Emily Jan 2016
The girl who would rather spend her Friday night at home organizing her room than at the parties.
The girl who would rather curl up and read at lunch than sit and socialize over talk of nothing but "people".
The girl who would rather drown out the world with music than sit in class and be involved.
The girl who would rather work alone and finish her homework in class, than sit in the big social groups making weekend plans.
The girl who would rather be independent and be judged as a loner than be friends with people who will secretly judge you.
The girl who would rather collect books and records than makeup.
The girl who would rather study astrology than watch every show on Netflix.
The girl who would rather thrift shop and buy $3.99 boots than buy top of the line $80 boots.
The girl who realizes that all of this does not make her any better than them.
The girl that realizes she is only trying to impress herself; confidence is key.
1969 Hartford art school is magnet for exceedingly intelligent over-sensitive under-achievers alluring freaks congenital creeps and anyone who cannot cut it in straight world it is about loners dreamers stoners clowns cliques of posers competing to dress draw act most outrageous weird wonderful classrooms clash in diversity of needs some students get it right off while others require so much individual attention one girl constantly raises her hand calls for everything to be repeated explained creativity is treated as trouble and compliance to instruction rewarded most of faculty are of opinion kids are not capable of making original artwork teachers discourage students from dream of becoming well-known until they are older more experienced only practiced skilled artists are competent to create ‘real art’ defined by how much struggle or multiple meanings weave through the work Odysseus wants to make magic boxes without knowing or being informed of Joseph Cornell one teacher tells him you think you’re going to invent some new color the world has never seen? you’re just some rowdy brat from the midwest with a lot of crazy ideas and no evidence of authenticity another teacher warns you’re nothing more than a bricoleur! Odysseus questions what’s a bricoleur teacher informs a rogue handyman who haphazardly constructs from whatever is immediately available Odysseus questions what’s wrong with that? teacher answers it’s low-class folk junk  possessing no real intellectual value independently he reads Marshall McLuhan’s “The Medium Is The Message” and “The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci” he memorizes introductory remark of Leonardo’s “i must do like one who comes last to the fair and can find no other way of providing for himself than by taking all the things already seen by others and not taken by reason of their lesser value” Odysseus dreams of becoming accomplished important artist like Robert Rauschenberg Jasper Johns Andy Warhol he dreams of being in eye of hurricane New York art scene he works for university newspaper and is nicknamed crashkiss the newspaper editor is leader in student movement and folk singer who croons “45 caliber man, you’re so much more than our 22, but there’s so many more of us than you” Odysseus grows mustache wears flower printed pants vintage 1940’s leather jacket g.i. surplus clothes he makes many friends his gift for hooking up with girls is uncanny he is long haired drug-crazed hippie enjoying popularity previously unknown to him rock bands play at art openings everyone flirts dances gets ****** lots of activism on campus New York Times dubs university of Hartford “Berkeley of the east coast” holding up ******* in peace sign is subversive in 1969 symbol of rebellion youth solidarity gesture against war hawks rednecks corporate America acknowledgment of potential beyond materialistic self-righteous values of status quo sign of what could be in universe filled with incredible possibilities he moves in with  painting student one year advanced named Todd Whitman Todd has curly blond hair sturdy build wire rimmed glasses impish smile gemini superb draftsman amazing artist Todd emulates Francisco de Goya and Albrecht Durer Todd’s talent overshadows Odysseus’s Todd’s dad is accomplished professor at distinguished college in Massachusetts to celebrate Odysseus’s arrival Todd cooks all day preparing spaghetti dinner when Odysseus arrives home tripping on acid without appetite Todd is disappointed Odysseus runs down to corner store buys large bottle of wine returns to house Todd is eating spaghetti alone they get drunk together then pierce each other’s ears with needles ice wine cork pierced ears are outlaw style of bad *** bikers like Hell’s Angels Todd says you are a real original Odys and funny too Odysseus asks funny, how? Todd answers you are one crazy ******* drop acid whenever you want smoke **** then go to class this is fun tonight Odys getting drunk and piercing our ears Odysseus says yup i’m having a good time too Todd and Odysseus become best friends Odysseus turns Todd on to Sylvia Plath’s “The Bell Jar” and “Ariel” then they both read Ted Hughes “Crow” illustrated with Leonard Baskin prints Todd turns Odysseus on to German Expressionist painting art movement of garish colors emotionally violent imagery from 1905-1925 later infuriating Third ***** who deemed the work “degenerate” Odysseus dives into works of Max Beckmann Otto Dix Conrad Felixmulller Barthel Gilles George Grosz Erich Heckel Ernst Ludwig Kirchner Felix Nussbaum Karl *******Rottluff Carl Hofer August Macke Max Peckstein Elfriede Lohse-Wachtler Egon Shiele list goes on in 1969 most parents don’t have money to buy their children cars most kids living off campus either ride bikes or hitchhike to school then back home on weekends often without a penny in their pockets Odysseus and Todd randomly select a highway and hitch rides to Putney Vermont Brattleboro Boston Cape Cod New York City or D.C. in search of adventure there is always trouble to be found curious girls to assist in Georgetown Odysseus sleeps with skinny girl with webbed toes who believes he is Jesus he tries to dissuade her but she is convinced

Toby Mantis is visiting New York City artist at Hartford art school he looks like huskier handsomer version of Ringo Starr and women dig him he builds stretchers and stretches canvases for Warhol lives in huge loft in Soho on Broadway and Bleeker invites Odysseus to come down on weekends hang out Toby takes him to Max’s Kansas City Warhol’s Electric Circus they wander all night into morning there are printing companies longshoremen gays in Chelsea Italians in West Village hippies playing guitars protesting the war in Washington Square all kinds of hollering crazies passing out fliers pins in Union Square Toby is hard drinker Odysseus has trouble keeping up  he pukes his guts out number of times Odysseus is *** head not drinker he explores 42nd Street stumbles across strange exotic place named Peep Show World upstairs is large with many **** cubicles creepy dudes hanging around downstairs is astonishing there are many clusters of booths with live **** girls inside girls shout out hey boys come on now pick me come on boys there are hundreds of girls from all over the world in every conceivable size shape race he enters dark stall  puts fifty cents in coin box window screen lifts inside each cluster are 6 to 10 girls either parading or glued to a window for $1 he is allowed to caress kiss their ******* for $2 he is permitted to probe their ****** or *** for $10 girl reaches hand into darkened stall jerks him off tall slender British girl thrills him the most she says let me have another go at your dickey Odysseus spends all his money ******* 5 times departing he notices men from every walk of life passing through wall street stockbrokers executives rednecks mobsters frat boys tourists fat old bald guys smoking thick smelly cigars Toby Mantis has good-looking girlfriend named Lorraine with long brown hair Toby Lorraine and Odysseus sit around kitchen table Odysseus doodles with pencil on paper Toby spreads open Lorraine’s thighs exposing her ****** to Odysseus Lorraine blushes yet permits Toby to finger her Odysseus thinks she has the most beautiful ****** he has ever seen bulging pelvic bone brown distinctive bush symmetric lips Toby and Lorraine watch in amusement as Odysseus gazes intently Tony mischievously remarks you like looking at that ***** don’t you? Odysseus stares silently begins pencil drawing Lorraine’s ****** his eyes darting back and forth following day Lorraine seduces Odysseus while Toby is away walks out **** from shower she is few years older her body lean with high ******* she directs his hands mouth while she talks with someone on telephone it is strange yet quite exciting Odysseus is in awe of New York City every culture in the world intermingling democracy functioning in an uncontrollable managed breath millions of people in motion stories unraveling on every street 24 hour spectacle with no limits every conceivable variety of humanity ******* in same air Odysseus is bedazzled yet intimidated

Odysseus spends summer of 1970 at art colony in Cummington Massachusetts it is magical time extraordinary place many talented eccentric characters all kinds of happenings stage plays poetry readings community meals volleyball after dinner volleyball games are hilarious fun he lives alone in isolated studio amidst wild raspberries in woods shares toilet with field mouse no shower he reads Jerzy Kosinski’s “Painted Bird” then “Being There” then “Steps” attractive long haired girl named Pam visits community for weekend meets Odysseus they talk realize they were in first grade together at Harper amazing coincidence automatic ground for “we need to have *** because neither of us has seen each other since first grade” she inquires where do you sleep? Todd hitches up from Hartford to satisfy curiosity everyone sleeps around good-looking blue-eyed poet named Shannon Banks from South Boston tells Odysseus his ******* is not big enough for kind of ******* she wants but she will **** him off that’s fine with him 32 year old poet named Ellen Morrissey from Massachusetts reassures him ******* is fine Ellen is beginning to find her way out from suffocating marriage she has little daughter named Nina Ellen admires Odysseus’s free spirit sees both his possibilities and naïveté she realizes he has crippling family baggage he has no idea he is carrying thing about trauma is as it is occurring victim shrugs laughs to repel shock yet years later pain horror sink in turned-on with new ideas he returns to Hartford art school classes are fun yet confusing he strives to be best drawer most innovative competition sidetracks him Odysseus uses power drill to carve pumpkin on Halloween teachers warn him to stick to fundamentals too much creativity is suspect Todd and he are invited to holiday party Odysseus shows up with Ellen Morrissey driving in her father’s station wagon 2 exceptionally pretty girls flirt with him he is live wire they sneak upstairs he fingers both at same time while they laugh to each other one of the girls Laura invites him outside to do more he follows they walk through falling snow until they find hidden area near some trees Laura lies down lifts her skirt she spreads her legs dense ***** mound he is about to explore her there when Laura looks up sees figure with flashlight following their tracks in snow she warns it’s Bill my husband run for your life! Odysseus runs around long way back inside party grabs a beer pretending he has been there next to Ellen all night few minutes later he sees Laura and Bill return through front door Bill has dark mustache angry eyes Odysseus tells Ellen it is late maybe they should leave soon suddenly Bill walks up to him with beer in hand cracks bottle over his head glass and beer splatter Odysseus jumps up runs out to station wagon Ellen hurriedly follows snow coming down hard car is wedged among many guest vehicles he starts engine locks doors maneuvers vehicle back and forth trying to inch way out of spot Bill appears from party walks to his van disappears from out of darkness swirling snow Bill comes at them wielding large crowbar smashes car’s headlights taillights side mirrors windshield covered in broken glass Ellen ducks on floor beneath glove compartment sobs cries he’s going to **** us! we’re going to die! Odysseus steers station wagon free floors gas pedal drives on back country roads through furious snowstorm in dark of night no lights Odysseus contorts crouches forward in order to see through hole in shattered windshield Ellen sees headlights behind them coming up fast it is Bill in van Bill banging their bumper follows them all the way back to Hartford to Odysseus’s place they run inside call police Bill sits parked van outside across street as police arrive half hour later Bill pulls away next day Odysseus and Ellen drive to Boston to explain to Ellen’s dad what has happened to his station wagon Odysseus stays with Ellen in Brookline for several nights another holiday party she wants to take him along to meet her friends her social circles are older he thinks to challenge their values be outrageous paints face Ellen is horrified cries you can’t possibly do this to me these are my close friends what will they think? he defiantly answers my face is a mask who cares what i look like? man woman creature what does it matter? if your friends really want to know me they’ll need to look beyond the make-up tonight i am your sluttish girlfriend! sometimes Odysseus can be a thoughtless fool

Laura Rousseau Shane files for divorce from Bill she is exceptionally lovely models at art school she is of French descent her figure possessing exotic traits she stands like ballerina with thick pointed ******* copious ***** hair Odysseus is infatuated she frequently dances pursues him Laura says i had the opportunity to meet Bob Dylan once amazed Odysseus questions what did you do? she replies what could i possibly have in common with Bob Dylan? Laura teases Odysseus about being a preppy then lustfully gropes him grabs holds his ***** they devote many hours to ****** intimacy during ******* she routinely reaches her hand from under her buns grasps his testicles squeezing as he pumps he likes that Laura is quite eccentric fetishes over Odysseus she even thrills to pick zits on his back he is not sure if it is truly a desire of hers proof of earthiness or simply expression of mothering Laura has two daughters by Bill Odysseus is in over his head Laura tells Odysseus myth of Medea smitten with love for Jason Jason needs Medea’s help to find Golden Fleece Medea agrees with promise of marriage murders her brother arranges ****** of king who has deprived Jason his inheritance couple is forced into exile Medea bears Jason 2 sons then Jason falls in love with King Creon’s daughter deserts Medea is furious she makes shawl for King Creon’s daughter to wear at her wedding to Jason  shawl turns to flames killing bride Medea murders her own sons by Jason Odysseus goes along with story for a while but Laura wants husband Odysseus is merely scruffy boy with roving eyes Laura becomes galled by Odysseus leaves him for one of his roommates whom she marries then several years later divorces there is scene when Laura tells Odysseus she is dropping him for his roommate he is standing in living room of her house space is painted deep renaissance burgundy there are framed photographs on walls in one photo he is hugging Laura and her daughters under big oak tree in room Laura’s friend Bettina other girl he fingered first night he met Laura at party is watching with arms crossed he drops to floor curls body sobs i miss you so much Laura turns to Bettina remarks look at him men are such big babies he’s pitiful Bettina nods

following summer he works installing displays at G. Fox Department Store besides one woman gay men staff display department for as long as he can remember homosexuals have always been attracted to him this misconception is probably how he got job his tenor voice suggesting not entirely mature man instead more like tentative young boy this ambiguous manifestation sometimes also evidences gestures thoroughly misleading after sidestepping several ****** advances one of his co-workers bewilderingly remarks you really are straight manager staff are fussy chirpy catty group consequently certain he is not gay they discriminate against him stick him with break down clean up slop jobs at outdoor weekend rock concert in Constitution Plaza he meets 2 younger blond girls who consent to go back to his place mess around both girls are quite dazzling yet one is somewhat physically undeveloped they undress and model for Odysseus radio plays Roberta Flack’s “Killing Me Softly With His Song” both girls move to rhythm sing along he thinks to orchestrate direct decides instead to let them lead lies on bed while curvaceous girl rides his ******* slender girl sits on his face they switch all 3 alternate giggle laughter each girl reaches ****** on his stiffness later both assist with hands mouths his ****** is so intense it leaves him paralyzed for a moment

in fall he is cast as Claudius in production of Hamlet Odysseus rehearses diligently on nights o
first step

when he looks at a woman he searches for qualities that attract him because he wants to desire her yet this tendency creates an imbalance or disadvantage he is rendered weak to a woman’s beauty or whatever traits he idealizes self-realizing this propensity he looks away from women years of disappointment neglect change him he becomes afraid of women gynophobic

2

when she looks at a man she searches for qualities she is critical of because she wants to be impervious to his power she is suspicious of all men their upper body strength penchant to be in control misperception of women as property misogyny emotional immaturity neediness to be mommyed selfishness insensitivity or over-sensitivity depending she wants to be treated with equal respect a loving nurturing relationship she is suspicious of all people their alternate realities passive aggressive behavior co-dependence craziness

3

he sees her then looks away she suspiciously notices nothing happens they go back to their separate homes alone always home alone grown calm in resignation yet disbelieving of this destiny saddened by this fate both worry about future she looks at her face naked body in mirror her stomach churns feels sad sickening remembers time when she was more carefree he puts one foot in front of other then walks tries to remember who taught him to walk how many times did he fall who taught him to laugh where did his sense of humor go

4

he sees her thinks she is lovely resists the urge to turn away he smiles says hello she notices nervously smiles her shaky voice articulates louder than a whisper hi

Tucson 2-step

they are standing in line at a café on 4th avenue he is directly behind her she is lanky wearing white background faded colors patterned summer dress thin straps over bare shoulders long brown hair few gray strands small unfinished tattoo on left calf leather slip-ons 1 inch heals he is at a complete loss for words thinks to make remark about the weather decides not to overhead fan stirs hot humid July air barista girl asks what she would like her eyes scan blackboard menu behind counter she hesitates remarks help him i need an extra moment to decide he steps up to counter money in hand orders small to go Arnold Palmer half black current lays $3 on counter mentions change goes in tip jar thank you barista girl moves fast he lifts cup from counter glances at woman still deciding then at barista girl says have a wonderful day turns walks out door dawns on him woman grows hair under her arms his 2nd most compelling female physique adornment fetish oh god he thinks to himself should i wait for her to make up her mind then approach try to craft conversation at least find out her name no i’m too weak in this moment she is so lovely let her go

2

she orders double Americana in small cup to go room for soy milk thinks to herself he did greet her perhaps their paths will cross on street why did he run off so fast she glances toward front of café notices window seat changes her mind instructs barista ******* 2nd thought make it for here digs through purse realizes she left wallet in truck explains to barista girl she needs to run out to her vehicle to retrieve wallet forgotten under front seat the air on the street is heavy dense she smells her own perspiration looks north then south does not see him walks to truck feels exhausted appetiteless almost nauseous wishes she did not order a drink thinks to get behind wheel drive home go to sleep

Tucson 3-step tango

she feels disappointment by her recent writings as if she is reaching a more sophisticated audience and setting a higher standard for her work yet she is not living up to her ambitions her recent writings smell of her past writings too emotional the damaged woman wounded child she wants to write more introspectively with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence she slams her laptop shut decides to go to Club Congress for a ****** mary or margarita but Club Congress is haunted with small town cretins losers wannabes she considers Maynard’s decides Maynard’s is too safe suburban yuppyish finally gives in to thought of glass of pinot noir at Plush next comes what to wear jeans in mid-July desert heat is unacceptable perhaps loose fitting thin cotton white summer dress thin leather belt ankle high indian moccasins hair in ponytail no pigtail braids no ponytail no makeup maybe little ylang ylang oil no she thinks about her recent writings

2

i am one breath away from crying in every moment one breath away from flying m.i.a. in every moment one breath away from destroying everything there is beauty in ugliness beauty in decrepitude disease beauty in harm hurt suffering beauty in greed injustice betrayal beauty in corruption contamination pollution beauty in hate cruelty ignorance beauty in death we spend our whole lives searching for a good death we spend our whole lives searching for eternal love this modern world is too much for me over my head the horrors of this place are beyond words unspeakable voice inside maybe mom yells quit your whining or dad hollers stop complaining i am trying to smile through tears one breath away from giving in one breath away from becoming stranger to myself winter spring winter spring there is beauty in nothingness we spend our whole lives searching for ourselves learning who we are not finding grasping secrets from dark paths light trails winter spring winter spring i am one breath away

3

she sits alone at bar at Plush glass of pinot noir glass of ice water in front of her 2 bearded older men eye her from other end of bar she ignores them glances at her wristwatch tries to look like she is waiting for someone music from speakers antiquated rock standard it is early friday hours from dusk moderate middle aged crowd mingle wait for local jazz trio to begin she thinks about her recent writings wonders is it too late for love considers lesbian affair from 5 different perspectives 5 woman’s voices each describing same lesbian affair in 5 opposing accounts hmmm she sips dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water she considers a story about a gang of female bikers who ride south to Mexico

4

the Americans came through here last night crossing border illegally climbing over our fences digging tunnels beneath our barrier walls littering along their trail they travel in packs of every skin color carry guns knives explosives wear leather boots some are shirtless tattoos dyed hair mischievously smiling conceitedly stealing when in question murdering they rob our homes slaughter our chickens ransack gardens loot our harvest you can still smell the stink of their fast food breaths

5

she swallows the last dark red wine from glass chases it with ice water local jazz trio begins to play as bar fills with more people she decides to walk home one foot in front of other wonders who taught her how to walk how many times did she fall she laughs to herself

Tucson square dance

TPD 10-18 unconfirmed data report

7 post-University of Arizona female graduates go to Cactus Moon for several drinks and dancing then drive to Bashful Bandit for more drinks and dancing 2 women get into scuffle victim Brittany Garner female 23 years of age race #5 (Native American, Eskimo, Middle -Eastern, Other) 5’ 2” long black hair cut-off blue jean shorts clingy light blue top falls hits head on side of bar dies of fatal blow to skull forensics report crushed occipital lobe assailant Stacy Won female 31 years of age race #4 (Asian) 5’6” black jeans black leather jacket red helmet Honda motorcycle still at large

witness accounts

Jess Delaney female 33 years of age race #2 (White) 6’ tight black pencil skirt white sleeveless undershirt no bra 3” heels blond ponytail “that squirting little **** deserves everything she got she lied told Stacy i’m a ***** i never cheated on Brittany i don’t understand we were all having a good time getting buzzed and dancing we should never have left Cactus Moon **** Kerrie thought some biker dude might be hanging around the Bandit hell maybe the Bandit was a biker bar once but now it’s just a college sink hole full of drunken frat boys when Monique flashed a little *** they went crazy cheering and buying us shots it just got out of hand never should have happened the way it happened Stacy didn’t mean to **** Brittany it’s ****** up i want to go home please let me go home”

Sabrina Starn female 29 years of age race #2 (White) 5’8” trendy corporate gray suit black pumps red shoulder length hair “i have to be at work at 8 AM Stacy was drunk out of control she gets crazy when she drinks Brittany was trash talking pushing all Stacy’s buttons then Stacy accused Brittany of sleeping with Monique and all hell broke loose i didn’t see what happened i was in the powder room it’s a terrible tragedy unfortunate accident can i please be released i need to sleep this is madness”

Kerrie Angeles female 27 years of age race #1 (Hispanic) 5’ 6” black pants white shirt black hair cut stylishly short silver crucifix around neck red fingernails “when we got to the Bashful Bandit i was ***** soaking between my legs thinking about a cowgirl at Cactus Moon ready to **** anyone i saw fantasized pulling a train with those frat boys Monique had been kind of quiet at Cactus Moon but when we got to the Bashful Bandit she lit up dancing wild unbuttoning her top jacket Sabrina went to the ladies room to snort coke with biker dude Kerrie wanted but he wasn’t into her then Brittany started saying crazy stuff accusing Stacy of stealing Monique from Jess Jessie goes through women heartlessly she doesn’t give a **** about Monique Jessie knows if she wants Monique back she can simply fiddle a finger my guess is Stacy is half way to Argentina she never meant to **** Brittany i’m going to miss her real bad she was a good kid”

Ann Skyler female 28 years of age race  #2 (White) 4’ 11’’ green white red Mexican peasant skirt black t-shirt black high-tops hair in messy bun “i’m confused i saw them dancing laughing grinding up against each other Rage Against the Machine came on then Nine Inch Nails the room felt quaking dizzy claustrophobic then they were pushing each other shoving yelling frat boys cheering the next thing i knew Brittany was supine on the floor blood pouring out maybe she just slipped hit her head i don’t know what to think i feel real sad confused sick to my stomach scared”

Monique Smithson female 24 years of age race # 3 (Black) 5’ 9” blue jeans jean jacket cowboy boots nose ring braided pigtails “Stacy had it in for Brittany from the start i saw it in her eyes at Cactus Moon she made several clever toxic remarks they snapped at each other i never thought it would escalate to ****** poor sweet Brittany was always so susceptible i was looking down adjusting my jeans over my boots when it happened i heard felt a big thump glanced up Brittany was lying there lifeless blood spilling everywhere Stacy ran out fast i heard her bike engine take off in a hurry”

Rodeo Drive Tucson

matt’s hats tom’s tools & tobacco lou’s liquors fred’s beds frank’s planks bill’s drills jane’s drains & panes chuck’s check cashing cheryl’s barrels hank’s tanks tina’s trucks & tractors walt’s asphalt sean’s pawn rick’s rifles mom’s guns terry’s tires charlie’s harleys rhonda’s hondas jim’s rims art’s parts gus’s gasoline mike’s bikes frank’s feed gwen’s pens ann’s cans nancy’s nursery joes‘s clothes jess’s dresses bert’s skirts steve’s sleeves paul’s shawls michelle’s shells & bells al’s pails & snails sam’s hams & jams patty’s pancakes phil’s chili don’s donuts betty’s spaghetti bob’s burgers alycia’s quiches jean’s beans jerry’s berries anna’s bananas andy’s candies cathy’s taffies tony’s ponies roy’s toys kim’s whims marty’s parties jill’s pills rick’s tricks alice’s palace debbie’s disposal dave’s graves

Quinta Waltz de Tucson

she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary efforts she dreams aches to create deeper discourse higher insight more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration instead she writes paperback television trash stupid inadequate answers to solemn questions she wonders if she is too scratched dented to find love her ******* are definitely changing she is deeply disturbed not ready for menopause too young for menopause she wants to remain a fertile woman with smooth skin wet ******

2

her neighbor Leslie awoke to horrible morning Leslie’s 6 chickens were assaulted overnight precious Mabel dragged off feathers everywhere trail down the street other hens cowering slumped together with wilted necks 3 of them with puncture wounds Leslie carried them one by one inside washed their wounds hugged them cried who did this terrible act a neglected abusive neighborhood cat or some desert predator why didn’t Leslie wake to sounds of savage marauding now this creature knows hen’s whereabouts when will it return for more massacre what modifications need to be enforced to ensure their coup before nightfall

3

she wants to remain a hen keep producing eggs does not want is not ready to enter the next **** stage of this **** existence it was fun being pretty for men inspiring them to say do whacky things she wants to remain a hen she is definitely displeased profoundly disappointed in her latest literary attempts “Tucson square dance” (self-referential) ****** bit about Americans came through here last night in “Tucson 3-step” ****** "Rodeo Drive" tepid perhaps the pinot noir lowered her standards everything is becoming nothing she cannot sleep tosses turns thrashes sheets in humid heat of her lonesome bed is she is too scratched dented to find love she worries for Leslie

4

tomorrow is another day they say the rain will come last year’s monsoon never came the baking sun smothered her garden died one by one sleepless she will miss tomorrow’s pilates class the infrequent delightful chatty breakfast afterwards she dreams aches of deeper discourse higher insight with detached humor that only comes from keener intelligence more thoughtful philosophical inquiries about life’s challenges beauty a better world overpowering love inspiration she crossed the line tonight her ******* are definitely changing

Tucson 666

he decides to shave eighth to quarter inch length salt and pepper beard a.k.a. unshaven look he has worn for years and grow full mustache the whiskers on his upper lip are darker with sparse gray at first no one notices after weeks the mustache gradually fills evoking many contrasting remarks several women loath it several men admire it girl at grocery store suggests he grow Fu Manchu so she can tug on it shopgirl says he looks like Charlie Chaplin downstairs neighbor from Turkey explains most Turkish men traditionally wear mustaches he read mustaches masculinize and empower men especially men in authoritative positions he thinks back to the 1960’s when many hippie males grew mustaches then in the 70’s gay men fashioned mustaches then in the 80’s cops adopted mustaches he wonders why a swatch of hair beneath nose is so provoking examines his visage in mirror discerns the mustache confers a Pepé le Pew quality or European accent to his appearance he remembers when he was young hippie with many amorous episodes how his mustache preserved the scent of a woman but there are no women in his life for many years do post-menopausal women possess scent? he feels indecisive whether to retain it or be rid of it

2

she observes her figure in mirror thinks to herself maybe her ******* are not changing perhaps it’s all in her head she inspects the little lines forming near her eyelids studies her features for signs of aging hardly any silver strands in long brown hair she examines neck ******* arms elbows fingers tummy hips pelvic region thighs knees shins calves ankles feet detects subtle changes thinks to herself my ******* are possibly slightly changing turned 40 in March married briefly in late teens no children a 15 year old dog beginning to suffer veterinarian promises to warn her when the time comes she wonders why it is so difficult finding fitting mate men sleep with her several times then move on maybe she is not such a great lover perhaps she would be better if one of them stuck around perhaps she is a lesbian the whole ide
Jessica Jarvis Feb 2018
Upon the dark night, striking three;
A tick representing each step in time,
but time overwhelmed by a trinity
of peace, and a plan greater than one's wildest dreams.

As the trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and
waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation,
a bird sings unto the dark night her song, unique, sweet, and free-spirited

Another beauty upon the night, a tulip,
blossoming, not fully grown, in admiration of this free spirit, the bird.
The tulip observes from a distance the song the bird sings

A praise, a never ending thankfulness
"Thank You for the trees,
Thank You for the waves,
And thank You for me," the bird sings.

In awe of the song bird, the tulip longs to grow, to blossom, to fly, to sing;
Oh, the joy, the praise, the song she'll bring
when fully grown to exemplify her thanks to the three

But, Hold! The clock ticking three, a breath He takes.
The songs of beauty the bird once sang
are silenced more than a whisper

Oh, dear, wilting Tulip; she wonders,
"Why?" she misunderstands, "Why has the bird's song been hushed?"
Oh, so joyful with praise, the songs she sang,
but now unto another Audience, unheard by the flower;

However, the sun rises, the flower realizes,
A new day is upon her. The trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and
Waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation,
Just like any other day.

Partaking in full bloom overnight, grown, she hears the call of three:
You're unique, sweet, and your free-spirit will sing,
for the steps of time past quicker than the steady rhythm of that clock ticking

Fly free, song bird,
Your legacy will only grow sweeter with time
As the bloom of a tulip smiles and praises the One unto which your song once thrived.
Written sometime around January, 2017.

This was written out of pain: legitimate heartbreak, but I suppose most poetry is, right? This was my first "real" poem that I've ever written. This began as an assignment and became a coping mechanism with a serious loss. I did, however, learn an important lesson: loss can be beautiful... I was very particular and purposeful with this poem, so there is a lot of symbolism. Interpret it as you please.
Another Bad Poem Mar 2018
she says
she's not a poet
but i find her poems
to have more meaning
more beauty, more heart
to them than mine
and the way
she uses her words
can change how a person is feeling
from sad to happy
just with a couple of phrases
knitted together

she says
she's not a good writer
but those early morning
last minute essays
of pure adrenaline and
half-awake thoughts
present ideas
in such a way
that it's impossible
to find them anything
but perfect

she says
she's not sure
what her future will bring
but i know her
she's smart
and she's
so wonderfully stubborn
that wherever she may end up
she will go farther
than anyone could have ever imagined
including me
i can't predict exactly where she'll be
in 4 months
or 4 years
but i know her path will go
down the most bountiful roads
and in the end
she'll be happy
and all will be worth it

she says
she's not grateful
but almost everything she does
she does for others
she loves her parents
and hurts when they hurt
she realizes what they do
for her, and wants to make them
the proudest parents on earth
she loves her friends
and tries to make them better

she says
she's a relationship whisperer
and i guess she's right
because with a few choice words
gentle nudges and an onslaught
of appreciated suggestions
she whispered us together

she says
that the dark spots on the sun
can bring shadow
to the most brilliant light
but not even
the dark of endless night
can dim her brightness
or hide her from those
who see her for who she is
who see her potential

she doubts herself
sometimes she thinks
she won't succeed,
always worried
that what she's done
isn't enough
or that there's too little time
to get everything done
but no matter the odds
no matter what she's up against
she pushes through
she persists, she fights
and she gets what she wants
or as close to what she wants
as is actually possible
sometimes she even achieves the impossible
and it's nothing if not admirable
showing me that anything is possible
proving to me that
"You could rattle the stars
You could do anything
If only you dared"
not by anything i've done
but by everything she's accomplished

she says
she's not beautiful
true, she's not a model
but that doesn't mean she's not perfect
but the way those eyes shine
like earth kissed by spring rain
promising life and happiness,
mirrored by her wide smile
though not often seen,
just one smile from her
is like a ray of sunshine
through grimy windows
bringing light into a place
that knew nothing but darkness,
warm enough to melt the walls
surrounding the coldest of hearts

somehow,
sometimes
she says she's ugly
possibly due to the scars
dotting her arms and her back
scars which started years ago
but on the contrary
i think they just enhance her
they make her more human
each one a reminder
that she's been through
countless things in her life
but instead of giving up
instead of giving in
she's come through,
a lump of carbon
forged by the fires
of her world
and the pressure of
her surroundings
the pressure of life
and came out
the most precious of diamonds
not the biggest
but the most wonderful of all
with small flecks of imperfections
that make it shine all the brighter

i say
she's often right,
but the subject
becomes herself
and she's far from the truth
she's absolutely wonderful
and in my eyes
perfect
a perfect person
and a perfect friend
the most beautiful woman on earth
mentally and physically
and there's nobody else
i'd rather love
quote from Sarah J. Maas
though the loving isn't easy, i still love
with all my heart
i hope this makes you smile when you're down
or helps you see yourself the way i see you
from Adroaldo

My brother,
my dear brother,
good Morning!
The dawn
show in your face
and shine in your life!
His days
are rich
of joy.
My love
and baby
Brother,
We are alive!
I have to tell you:
we are alive!
You
are not
alone!
You're
in my heart
and in my soul.
You're
Inside of me
and in the reflection of water.
You are a part of me
and I'm part
from you!
We are one
among
all others.
We do not
we are
alone.
That day
witness
our birth!
The dawn
realizes
our existence!
The fields
receive
our steps!
The world
to accept
our presence!
My brother,
my dear
and beloved brother,
there are times
I try to tell you
One thing:
I am here!
Listen to me:
I am here!
You
are not
alone!
I need
hopelessly
from you.
I need
hopelessly
know you.
I need
hopelessly
being with you!
My brother,
my dear
and beloved brother,
My tent
It's open
To you
If you want
hide yourself
this cold night.
My tent
it’s open
to you
if you want
trick
the fury of the wolves.
My heart
it’s on
to your heart.
My blood
is red
just like yours.
Nor time
cannot
erase it.
Neither life
can erase
that.
My brother,
who will be you
in this crowd?
Embrace the truth
or will be
Illusion?
My brother,
my dear
and beloved brother,
realizes
the darkness
to come?
Realizes
the evil
now it is growing?
Hear the sound
thunder
far!
Hear the sound
saxophones
far!
Listening
the beating of wings
Grasshoppers!
Listen
to the shouts of the
angry mob!
The crowd
chasing
the insistent
hunger
for blood
between his teeth.
Everybody wants
a piece
of us.
Everyone wants
a pound
of our flesh.
They come
during
at night.
They come
during
the day.
They
never
sleep.
They
never
give up.
I see only
hate
in your eyes.
I see only
rebellion
in your eyes.
They are born
the murmurings
and strife.
They are the result
of anger
and hypocrisy.
They venerate
marble
idols.
Idols of gold,
silver
and bronze.
They cry out
a piece
of our land.
They require
even the sweat
of our foreheads.
No food
in this land
to sustain
for your
hunger
it is rampant.
There blanket
in this land
that heat
for your heart
it is the winter cold
more extreme.
There is no justice
in this land
satisfying
for expect
the greater evil
always prevail.
There is no reason
for none of this
happen
and yet
all
it happens!
Who
put our brothers
against us?
Who
he puts us against
our own brothers?
Who on this earth,
really,
It's us?
Who on this earth,
Really,
are they?
Who knows
which side is the
mirror?
All this hatred
not born alone
in the dunes.
All this anger
it does not grow alone
in the sand.
So who hate us so much
dearly beloved
brother?
Who, long ago
has played in
against each other?
My brother,
my dear
and beloved brother,
someone, some time ago,
steals
all our cattle.
Someone, long ago
defiles
all our water.
Someone, some time ago
assaults
our dreams.
Someone, some time ago
Burn
all that's left us.
However, those who hate us
such a long time
beloved brother?
The guilt
all this
It is not yours.
The guilt
all this
It is not mine.
So who will
In fact,
all the blame?
Who will be,
after all, our
single accuser?
Who is coming
to steal
all our breath?
Who is coming
to destroy
our hopes?
Who
was born
a feud?
Who
was born
a simple lie?
Who crawls
among the lizards
desert?
Who conversation
with the stars
Infinity?
Who plot
against their
own brothers?
Who blasphemes
in the heavens
and the creator himself?
Who will be
our biggest
Killer?
Who will be
our biggest
opponent?
Who will be
our brother
unknown?
Who will go
breaking the silence
in this order so violent?
My brother,
I beg you to save me
these ***** streets.
I beg you to hold me
tonight
so cold and so dark.
I beg you to grant me
a simple prayer
in this momentary silence.
Someone plot
constantly
against us.
Someone
Want to see
our end.
My brother,
dearly beloved
brother,
Hug me
when the wind
It is too cold.
Hug me
when you hear
my sigh of pain.
My hands
tremble
cold and fear.
My bones
tremble
cold and fear.
My brother,
where will you be
Now?
You will be
inside cars
passing fast.
You will be
in shop windows
of expensive clothes shops.
You will be
the billboards neon
in downtown.
You will be
in advertisements
famous brand.
Where you
will,
my beloved brother?
The sound
thunder
gets closer!
Almost
explode
my heart!
My bones
tremble
cold and fear.
I hope
for something
not owes me explanation.
I hope
for something
I do not understand.
I hope
for something
it is a revelation.
May
arise
among cacti.
Surely,
grow
among the burned grass.
Maybe
it’s only
a dream.
Perhaps
more
a desire hidden.
My brother,
in this special day,
who will you be today.
In this special day,
where is
you today?
It will be you,
my brother,
my only friend.
It will be you,
my brother,
my greatest enemy?
Will you
brother, beside me
in this cold night?
Will you
Brother, with
in the angry mob?
My brother,
my dear
and beloved brother,
It will be you
That
Sleeping out in the open?
It will be you
that one that
Fight against the cold?
It will be you
that
you face the wolves.
It will be you
that
that protects your?
Who will be
You
my dear and beloved brother?
My brother,
I implore
receiving me.
My brother,
I beg
to listen to me.
My dear
and beloved brother,
accept me!
Notice me,
understand me
and shelter me.
Accept me
the way
that I am!
I receive
in his tent
on that cold night.
Accept me
Open arms
that night so dark.
I may welcome
in these days
so dark.
Protect me
these days
so terrible.
My love
and dear brother,
Hug me.
I need
much
you hold me.
I need
the air
you breathe.
I need
address
of your steps.
I need
hear
your hoarsely
same
whatever
for a moment fiddling.
Same
whatever
for a second measly.
It
does not say
absolutely anything.
It
tells me
absolutely everything.
I need
to listen
I open my heart
Even if
only
for a second.
My brother,
My dear
and beloved brother,
I feel
all the cold
ahead.
I see
all fear
what is not explained.
I need
so much
from you!
I need
that you
be around here
and warm me
If this cold
Persist.
I need
that you
protect me
case
all evil
I reach.
I need
so much
from you!
I need
to guide me
in this dense night.
I need
that hides me
the hungry wolves.
dissipating
all
my fears,
to wash
all
my sins,
to dry
even
my tears,
that fight
By me
with all his strength.
I need
both of you,
my dear brother.
I like both
powers play
his face again.
I would love
feeling
the skin again.
I need to both
hear
your voice again.
I need
to feel
your presence again.
I need
you to hold me;
and that this embrace is sincere.
I need you
to tell me
not to be afraid anymore.
I need you
to tell me
that will be all right!
The sound of thunder
It's deafening
and if ever closer.
The hunger of wolves
ceases neither
with the dawn.
I see whole cities
ablaze
on fire.
I see the darkness
blacker
take shape quickly.
I see food to perdition
satisfied
a flock of sheep.
I see the flock embrace the night
and join
in the pack.
I see wolves
and sheep
fraternizing.
I see them embrace
the full evil
in a night deal.
Before my eyes
finally
I see the end unfolding.
I hear the sound of thunder
finally
in its fullness.
There is no more
sell some
in my eyes.
I see millions
issuing his last breath
before my eyes.
My brother,
my dear and beloved
Brother,
how can I say
how much
I love you?
How can I say
how much
you’ll be missed?
How can I say
how much
I loved you in life?
How do I look
in your eyes
knowing that never see you?
Who put
this blood
in my hands?
Who put
this weapon
in my hands?
My dear
and loved
brother,
at where
will be
you?
Will be
you
in the cotton fields?
Will be
you
coal mines?
Will be
you
in the bar tables?
Will be
you
in lullabies?
Will be
you
the stone dungeons?
Will be
you
the yellow pages?
Will be
you
in the desert mountains?
Will be
you
in concrete forests?
Will be
you
in love letters?
Will be
you
in horror stories?
Will be
you
among the persecuted
or is
In between
Persecutors?
Will you
In between
The empty belly
or are
In between
who has everything?
Will you
In between
the most popular
or is
In between
Disposable?
Will you
In between
settlers
or is
In between
Colonized?
My brother,
my dear
And beloved brother,
will you
In between
Elected?
Will you
In between
The unfortunates?
Embrace
my
problems,
embrace
my
fights,
embrace
my
­­tears,
embrace
my
hiccups,
embrace
my
scars,
I pray that the Lord
in receive
open arms.
May the Lord
the accepted
at the end.
The King of kings
in receives
in his Kingdom.
I can hold you
finally
without fear.
I can love you
finally
without fear.
May we
we
to recognize
simply
as...

Brothers!
the loss of a child is truly great
it leaves strong men weakened
no wonder then that for Arjuna
it felt like the earth had shaken
and shifted from its axis
leaving his world broken
he forgets that he is the Great Warrior
in this moment he is a father

should he be heartbroken
as his son is dead?
or rejoice
as he died a hero’s death?
or anger
at its unfairness?

in a momentary madness he rages,
“who dared to hurt my darling boy?
who dared my Gandiva defy?
and how was it that he fell alone
weren’t any of you close by?”


under his fierce gaze Yudhisthira trembles
“I’m sorry my brother, I feel your pain,
Abhimanyu was our son too,
foolishly we sent him to his death
that guilt will plague us to our dying day,
but know this-
we tried to protect him
like an egg protects a yolk
we had him surrounded

but fate had other games to play
Jayadratha, King of Sindhu
was our opponent that day,
he played his trump card-
the boon he received from Mahadeva which states
that he shall be able to defy our combined might
on a day that yourself and Keshava are away

against destiny who has a say
he held us prisoner in a duel
and let Abhimanyu escape
deeper and deeper into the cruel clutches
of the Chakravyuha he strayed
the price for our foolishness, with his blood he paid”


Arjuna’s anger now had a target
Jayadratha would his mistake regret
The wielder of the Gandiva makes
A terrifying promise –
“If by sunset tomorrow
Jayadratha’s head does not lay
bleeding in the earth’s embrace
then I shall immolate
myself in the fiery blaze
my name shall be stained with eternal shame”


“why such harsh words, Partha?”, asks Krishna,
“why take such a hasty oath,
what if you fail? Abhimanyu is gone
but there are others
whose dependence upon you is just as it was”


“But Keshava”, Arjuna retorts,
“it was you who had a complaint,
that my arrows had no fire,
that my fighting was spiritless
that I was shirking the Dharma of a warrior,
so now that the flames of passion
are fuelled by my loss
why do you tell me dampen
my vengeance, and besides
with you as my charioteer,
friend and guide,
I am assured
That success will be mine”


“So be it Partha,
It may be that destiny has decreed
that you are Jayadratha’s nemesis,
but be aware, that it will not be easy
our enemies will seize upon this opportunity
to shame you and rid themselves of you
Jayadratha will be well guarded
and if we get past the Kaurava army
to Jayadratha, you must employ
the Pasupatastra-that mighty weapon
gifted to you by Mahadeva himself”


this decision made, they await
the fourteenth day
in the Pandava camp there is anticipation
in the Kaurava camp fear, and anxious preparation
Jayadratha in mortal terror,
would rather the battlefield avoid,
and turn his back and be called a coward
than face Arjuna’s undefeatable missiles
but under Drona’s advice and assurance
he fearfully stays

The fourteenth day dawns
even the Sun God seems excited
he wishes he could stay and watch
the outcome of the fight this day
but the sun cannot stop
it must do its duty
just like the warriors  on the battlefield today

soldiers wither as Arjuna’s wrath
falls as bolts of lighning
assisted by the brave Satyaki
five akshauhinis are decimated
but within a triple vyuha
Jayadratha is still safe
waves and waves of warriors come
and to Yamaloka dispatched
but Jayadratha is not yet encountered
and the sun is low upon the horizon

Fatigue overtakes the battlefield
and the end seems near
in a few minutes the sun will have set-
for the Kaurava’s a welcome relief,
for the Pandava’s their greatest fear!
now Arjuna seems to panic
now he gives in to despair
wishing he could hold back the sun
just till he can exact his revenge!

Krishna realizes his Partha’s  plight
for the sake of justice he must act
with clever insight
this embodiment of the divine
eclipses the sun
behind Narayana’s discus
it is hidden

the world believes
that the sun has set
the mighty Arjuna has fallen!
The Kuarava’s scream in delight,
The Pandava’s crestfallen
Arjuna hangs his head in desperation
he has been unable to fulfill his oath
unable to avenge Abhimanyu’s death

from hiding Jayadratha emerges
cowardly rat now seemingly a lion
“Arjuna, fulfill your promise”, he jeers
“let us see you get on the pyre,
foolish warrior that you are
you dared to clash with
the Kaurava might
now see where your stupidity
has led you, like son like father!”


the entire Kaurava host laughs
overjoyed at seeing Arjuna lost
the greatest of their enemies
will now commit suicide
forever this humiliation
will haunt his brothers
and they shall lose faith
drop down their weapons in
futility and depression
and the war shall be won!

as they rejoice in their ignorance
Krishna intervenes,
suddenly the sun comes out again
bright and shining, as if to say,
“Arjuna is not defeaten!”

Now the tables are turned-
The Kaurava army falls in disarray
in the Pandava camp loud hurrays!
Conches are blown and the fighting resumes
For the second time that day
Jayadratha out in the open feels
The presence of Yama
And Arjuna, his spirits reawakened
looks like a fiery tower
his eyes blazing coals

Krishna speaks: “Quick Arjuna! Do not hesitate
a moment longer,
dispatch your Pasupata with haste,
but remember Jayadratha’s other boon-
the one given to him by his father
that the one who makes his head roll,
will have his own burst into a thousand pieces”


Arjuna obeying stretches his bowstring
The Pasupata is loaded,
a short prayer to Mahadeva said,
the arrow becomes the messenger of death
severing Jayadratha’s head off his shoulder
an expression of shock-the last look on his face
for a moment his body stands
and then falls with a thud to the ground

the Pasupata carries the head afar,
outside the battlefield and deposits
it in the lap of Jayadratha’s father
who seeing the  disembodied head his son
lets its fall on the ground in shock and awe
and instantly in fulfillment of the boon he gave
his head explodes into a thousand fragments

the Sun God bids adieu
now the day is done

the oath is fulfilled,
Arjuna still lives,
The Kauravas are filled with dread
for they know that Arjuna will not cease
his anger will not be appeased
with only the death of Jayadratha
he will now be a fiercer
and a stronger foe

On the Pandava side
Victory drums beat
Abhimanyu has been avenged!

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
19.09.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Gandiva : Arjuna's divine bow
Mahadeva: Lord Shiva
Keshava: Another name for Krishna
Partha : Another name for Arjuna
Pasupatastra: A weapon gifted to Arjuna by Lord Shiva
Akshauhini: Ancient battle unit consisting of 21,870 chariots (Sanskrit ratha); 21,870 elephants; 65,610 cavalry and 109,350 infantry.
vyuha:battle formation
Yamaloka: the realm of Yama, the God of Death/The Underworld
Narayana : Lord Vishnu

Jayadratha: Once while trying to abduct Draupadi, the wife of the Pandavas, Jayadratha was humiliated by the Pandavas. In order to avenge his humiliation, he underwent rigourous penance to please Lord Shiva from whom he received a boon that he could hold all the Pandavas at bay for one day when Arjuna and Lord Krishna were not around. He used that boon on the day Abhimanyu was to enter the Chakravyuha, thereby preventing the Pandava brothers from protecting Abhimanyu. He was thus the root cause of Abhimanyu's death.
Jayadratha also had another boon from his father, i.e; who ever caused the head of Jayadratha to fall on the ground, will be killed immediately by having his own head burst into 1000 pieces.
Katherine Oct 2012
A real man
Remembers that stars are there
Even when blocked out
By city lights
He knows patience
Because more often
Than not
Waiting
Is
Worth it
He does not falter
With his love
He does not stutter
When he mutters
Three
Simple
Words

A real man
Need not be rich
Or giant
Or aggressive
But knows that family
Is prosperity
Love is vast
And
Compassion
Is more powerful
Than destruction

When he laughs
He is carrying me away
On plush clouds
Lightening my day
Reminding me, not to feel so heavy
You feel his heart
Beating at once
With yours
Even from far away

When he smiles
It is not forced
It is peaceful
It is effortless
You see the world in his
Gleaming
Brown
Eyes

When he cries
(Yes, a real man cries)
He is shedding away his pain
Collecting tears
To make a river
So that he can swim
He never
Allows himself to sink

When he loves
It is almost indescribable
He takes care
He is devoted
He is reliable
Understanding
Of the universe’s trials

The sad truth is
So many good men
Go unnoticed
In this world
So many are
Taken
For granted

When a girl
Realizes
She has a real man
She must decide to
Step up
And become
A real woman
Strong
Loyal
Nurturing
Loving
Honest
She gives him her heart
And never thinks twice
And if she’s lucky enough
To be given his
She treats it
Like a precious stone
And never lets it
Out of sight.
CEFord Jan 2014
Whispers hello as the first streams of sunlight
inch their way in through their black chiffon veil,
gleaming on our garden of stale breath,
and down feathers.

Whispers goodnight as his proud freckles
become the constellations outside my window,
and the moon stretches her arms
for another night's work.

Whispers sorry after his words became feather-lances
jousting through my arguments until my armor
was askew and torn
at its paper seams.

Whispers tales of tomorrows and fortnights
to come under illusions of rich greens, blues, and yellows
he will finger paint on my forehead
like a warrior.

Whispers goodbyes, sweet and forlorn,
as he realizes promises and paints will not keep the morning
from snatching his prized possession from his cotton laced roost,
leaving him alone with just the rays of the sun
to admire his tail.
~~~                                              The thirteenth day at Kurukshetra
                                                     ­   verily an unfortunate day
                                                      for this is the day a hero falls
                                               the likes of which were never seen again

there he stands on his chariot                                                          ­          but his face is clouded with worry
his armour shooting arrows of  light                                                        ­         mind disturbed by confusion
truly he looks like the son                                                              ­             a David among Goliaths he stands
of the king of the night                                                            ­    a mammoth task on his youthful shoulders
                                                his uncle, the king must be protected
                                                       ­      his father is away
                                             the enemy has planned a tricky strategy
                                   a war formation-which only he knows how to break

                                          The Chakravyuha or Padmavyuha as it is called
                                            in the shape of a circular lotus it is arranged
                                                 a deadly trap like a venus fly-catcher
                                                  dea­th is certain for those who enter
“I know how to enter, he laments                                                          ­      but my lovely mother fell asleep
but of how to escape it  I am unaware                                                      unin­terested in the skills of warfare
my father taught it to my mother                                                           ­             so I learnt only how to enter
when I was in her womb                                                    and of knowledge of the exit I was deprived”

                                                  “Go­ forth bravely”, his uncle says,
                                                          w­e’ll follow you closely
                                                       no one can harm even a hair
                                                    on your head while we are there

                                                          ­  and so Abhimanyu enters
                                                          ­    a hero-true to his name
                                                            ­ with courage in his heart
                                                         and the Lord’s name on his lips
he prays, ‘let me make my father proud today”                                              so rapidly do his arrows fly
like a lion he is fierce, like an eagle swift                                              that they remain unseen to the eye
ten thousand soldiers fall                                                             ­                          only their stabbing tip is felt
under his wrathful gaze                                                             ­             before the receivers keel over and die
                                                             ­   the brave warrior forges on
                                                              ­    unaware of the goings on
                                                        his uncles have been trapped behind
                                                          ­  he’s alone behind the enemy line

                                                           ­      when he realizes the danger        
                                                                ­            its far too late      
                                                            a true warrior does not his fate berate
                                                          ­        bravely onwards he wanders
finding chinks in the enemy’s armour                                                         but treachery raises its ugly head
he is Yama himself incarnate                                                        ­                               alone he battles a crowd
into every heart he strikes a mindless fear                           Karna, Drona, Vrshasena, Salya, Durmashana
claiming lives as he plans an escape                        Duryodhana, Dussasana, Lakshmana, Aswathhaman
                                                           and Kritavarman all surround
                                                        ­scavengers against this lonely lion
                                                         Karna does his bowstrings break
                                                     and Kritavarman leaves him chariotless

                                                    ­           multiple arrows upon him rain
                                                            ­    he is now grievously wounded
                                                         ­          yet unnerved and undaunted
                                                       ­      he rises with sword and shield in hand
he challenges his attackers thus,                                                          come one by one and I shall be glad
“O mighty warriors, this cowardly act                                                              ­       to give you a good fight
does not your stature befit, the laws of war                                        and in this fair combat befitting kings
do not prescribe for many to stand against one                                                        may the best man win”

                                                           ­  but his plea for fairness went unheard
                                                   Karna breaks his shield and Drona cuts his sword
                                                           ­      unarmed and bleeding he employs
                                                         ­       his chariot wheel as a final defense

                                                        ­             but corruption is a cruel master
                                                          ­        that ruled the minds of his attackers
                                                       ­                       together in all injustice
                                                       ­     they smash  the chariot wheel to smithereens
they laugh their wicked laughs                                                           ­        with deceitful swords he is felled
and rejoice at Abhimanyu’s helplessness                                                     ­  but even in death he is dignified
to his honour and their ignominy                                              his only regret is that he shall not live to see
with ruthlessness they strike                                                           ­               his queen, Uttara and his child  
                                                         ­    but as he thinks of his father
                                                          ­    his heart is filled with pride
                                                     “look father”, he screams to the skies
                                                        “y­our son has died a hero’s death”

                                       “against many Maharathis  he has stood his ground
                                               and fulfilled his dharma - he hopes you are proud
                                                          h­is last wish is that you should avenge
                                                   the treason that has driven him to this end”

with these last words                                                            ­                  poor Abhimanyu - his words echoed
he leaves this world                                                            ­                              filling the battlefield with dread
the villains around him dance                                                            ­        his uncles hear his bellowing roars
in a shameful victory celebration                                                      ­      and know that their beloved is dead
                                                       with their mind-numbing sorrow
                                                         comes their unquenchable fear
                                                       how will they let their brother know
                                                          th­at he must light his son’s pyre

                                                           with bloodshot eyes they swear
                                                       that his noble death will be avenged
                                                         and then they fall deeper in sorrow
                                                          ­as the sun sets upon their beloved
his blood mixes with the earth                                                            ­              his death shall be a reminder
as the Gods rain praises above him                                                             that honour comes not with age
“here lies a true champion                                                     but by one’s actions is one’s worth determined
unbeaten and courageous                                                       ­           ascend Abhimanyu to the heavens!”

                                                    Th­e thirteenth day at Kurukshetra
                                                     ­        verily an unfortunate day
                                                            f­or this is the day a hero fell
                                                   the likes of which were never seen again
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   16.09.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
In the Indian epic Mahabharata, Abhimanyu is the son of the Pandava Arjuna and Subhadra the sister of Lord Krishna. He is thus the nephew of the other four Pandava brothers. Since Karna is also a son of Kunti, he also was a nephew to Karna, one of his murderers. Though Abhimanyu and the other Pandavas were unaware of this fact, Karna was cognizant of the relationship, which is what makes the killing of Abhimanyu a particularly heinous crime.  
He is husband to the Matsya kingdom's princess, Uttarā, who was pregnant with his child Parikshikt at the time of his death.
Abhimanyu is also said to be an incarnation of Varchas, the son of the Moon God.
The Mahabharata records that Karna was instrumental in the killing of Abhimanyu. Karna asks Drona how Abhimanyu can be killed to which Drona replies : "Abhimanyu is young, his prowess is great. His coat of mail is impenetrable. This one's father had been taught by me the method of wearing defensive armour. This subjugator of hostile towns assuredly knoweth the entire science (of wearing armour). With shafts well shot, you can, however, cut off his bow, bow-string, the reins of his steeds, the steeds themselves, and two Parshni charioteers. O mighty bowman, O son of Radha, if competent, do this. Making him turn back from the fight (by this means), strike him then. With his bow in hand he is incapable of being vanquished by the very gods and the Asuras together. If you wish, deprive him of his car, and divest him of his bow".
Abhimanyu was 16 years old at the time of his death. The name Abhimanyu is a Sanskrit word meaning "heroic".
Odysseus needs a job he calls pima community college art department chairperson sends her his resume she does not respond after a week he catches her on phone she says he lacks proper credentials laughs to himself his whole life never worked lucrative or reputable position gets job working at thrift store wacky group of coworkers customers store frequently smells like public latrine job expires after 7 weeks he gets better paying job working at record exchange Odysseus always loved music everyday he learns new artist or band his coworkers are at least half his age they pester him about being slow on keyboard he never learned to type neither he nor his generation could have foreseen future would revolve around keyboard he plods on register keys people smile politely kids he works with fly fast making many keyboard mistakes November 29 2001 george harrison dies of cancer he is 58 years old Odysseus recognizes he is from past world different era of contrasting standards ‘80’s behavior is totally unbefitting let alone ‘60’s beliefs it is 2002 and one badly chosen word is sure to send someone flying off the handle he watches his language carefully co-workers mostly born in 1980’s grew up in 1990’s they live indifferent to hopelessness he struggles to bear none of them believe in higher power music is their religion he wonders what their visions concerns for humanity are? they seem addicted to consumption as if it is end in itself he questions what is hidden at root of their absorption? loneliness? despair? apathy? absence of vision? where is their rage against social conversion current administration? he warns them about homeland security act privacy infringement increased government secrecy power they shrug their shoulders why aren’t they looking for answers? why don’t they dissent? do they care where world is going? he realizes they will have to learn for themselves few coworkers read literature or know painters philosophy their passions are video games marijuana “star wars” most of them are extremely bright more informed than he often Odysseus needs to ask questions they know answers to right off the bat he is like winsome uncle who puts up with their unremitting teasing “hey you old hippie punk rocker get you fiber in today? stools looking a little loose! peace out old man” in peculiar way he finds enough belonging he so desperately needs they tell him stories about their friends *** addictions eating disorders futile deaths he is bowled over by how young they are to know such stuff job includes health insurance which is something he has not had since Dad was alive having some cash flowing in he buys laptop computer with high-speed connection cell phone trades in toyota for truck opens crate of writings he abandoned in ‘80’s begins to rewrite story sits blurry eyed in front of computer screen his motivation has always been to tell truth as he knows it he wonders what ramifications his labor will bring positive or negative results? he guesses his story will sound like children’s fable in stark brutality of distant future october 2002 3 week ****** spree terrorizes maryland virginia  district of columbia 10 people killed 3 critically wounded police believe white van responsible october 24 man and 17-year-old boy arrested in blue chevy caprice juvenile is shooter assailants linked to string of random murders including unsolved shooting of man at golf course in tucson Odysseus mentions incident at work speaks of prevailing terror madness in america co-workers kid tell him he is crazy “did you see a white van parked outside the store Odys?” they seem desensitized to increasing national atmosphere of anger panic or perhaps they are overwhelmed by weight trauma of modern life lie after lie prevailing  havoc slaughter make for dull numbness in world they know suicide is compelling option december 22nd 2002 joe strummer dies from heart failure at age 50 Odysseus’s eyes wet he adored the clash everything they stood for loved joe strummer and mescaleros he plays “global a go-go” over and over listens sings along with first track “johnny appleseed” march 2003 president bush launches attack against iraq united states seems drunk with “shock and awe” zealous blind patriotism many people politicians countries around globe question unproven line of reasoning saddam hussein possesses “weapons of mass destruction” Odysseus gripes “not another **** vietnam” record company allows employees to check out take home used product Odysseus stopped watching movies in 1980’s he has lots of catching up to do particularly likes “natural born killers” “american history x” “american ******” “fight club” “way of the gun” “******” “king of new york” “basquiat” “frida” “*******” “before night falls” “quills” “requiem for a dream” “vanilla sky” “boys don’t cry” “being john malkovich” “adaptation” “kids” “lost in translation” “25th hour” “28 days later” “monster” “city of god” “gangs of new york” “**** bill” list goes on perfect circle becomes his favorite band followed by tool lacuna coil my morning jacket brian jonestown massacre flaming lips dredg drive-by truckers dropkick murphys flogging mollies nofx stereophonics eels weakerthans centro-matic califone godspeed you black emperor magnetic fields fiery furnaces dresden dolls smog granddaddy calexico howie gelb sufjan stevens warren haynes dax riggs john vanderslice alejandro escovedo sean paul elephant man bjork p. j. harvey ani difranco aimee mann cat power sophie b. hawkins kathleen edwards mia doi todd kimya dawson regina spektor carina round neko case fiona apple nina nastasia beth gibbons mirah rasputina dr. dre talib kweli immortal technique murs slug atmosphere trick daddy eazy-e tricky list goes on october 21 2003 elliott smith commits suicide stabbing 2 wounds into his chest Odysseus thinks about music when jimi hendrix stood up at woodstock deconstructing national anthem on guitar it took courage when punk emerged with ugly screechy sounds attempting to divorce itself from melodious harmonies of 1970s complacent crosby stills nash  the dead kennedys and *** pistol did not pander to conventional commercial success what they performed were desperate gutsy songs trying to reclaim music rock’n’roll is no longer about inventing instead it imitates its glorious past hip-hop and rap come nearest to risking rebellion but are caught in gangsterism infantile self-adulation no longer does music offer vision of what is or could be instead it conjures looping escapism from hopelessness of modern life he continues working at record shop for several years store contains every genre of music cinema he grows weary of retail sales weary of higher-ups constantly changing rules dictating what to do head manager is manipulative drama queen thrives on crisis once in private admits stealing from company Odysseus nods not knowing what to say head manager works Odysseus hard keeps him down atmosphere of conspiracy betrayal hang at start of each day assistant manager routinely taunts berates bullies teases regularly calls Odysseus “dumb-****” or “****-up” other times laughs after goading Odysseus to flinch eventually bully backs off and they become friends retail pushes Odysseus to brink of misanthropy corporation requires all employees to exercise overt courteousness while serving a public of disrespectful gang bangers demanding “show me black market brotha lynch mac dre why ya godda keep dat **** behind da counter? dat’s ****** up hey old man i ain’t got all day” it always amazes him when shoplifter is caught with product stuffed down his pants thief blatantly states “i didn’t do it i don’t know how that got there” thanksgiving through christmas to new years is most swarming stressful he feels like automaton greeting customer scanning product looking at screen to see if price agrees with product typing money amount counting money into drawer counting money out handing change to customer handing customer product receipt next customer cockroach capitalism packs of masses line up in endless stream of needs stupid remarks job also involves trade appraising condition value resale probability of cds dvds video games tapes vhs vinyl news of  iraq war gets dismal mounting civilian casualties suicide bombers hostages beheadings beginning of 2004 reports of torture ****** psychological abuse **** ****** ****** of prisoners at abu ghraib prison guantanamo bay white house cover-ups denials growing insurgency increasing u.s. body count other costs he thinks about men and women who are so much braver than him then comes re-election and lavish republican parties parades cheney rumsfeld tom delay and whole regime smirk portentously on tv none of it makes sense anymore “we the people of the united states” what does it mean? the dreams and aspirations of his generation have long since faded away he is citizen of forgotten past current world is barbaric place he barely recognizes there are real pirates with machetes rocket launchers on the seas big drug corporations hiding harmful findings kidnapped children abandoned children crooked politicians corruption at every level of society horrifying stories daily ******* priests slave markets extreme heinous cruelties abruptly everyone is acknowledging society is worsening life is not the same he does not understand people and certainly does not understand america or the world he remembers when all could be so good modern existence has turned everything into madness what happened to lessons of history? it is as if Odysseus fell asleep and when he woke everything is changed he is mistaken about what he thinks he knows feels pity for people america pity disgust sorrow he misses his dog
Egaeus Thompson Jan 2017
M covered in blood and attempting to roll a cigarette throughout but failing utterly.

M: Blood dries much quicker than you think. It is hell on cotton and wool blends, but once it's dried on the skin, you can either chip it off or just rub it off, so that's cool. (beat) You know, after a while you start to be able to smell if someone is anemic. It's crazy, I know, but when the metallic perfume entertains the thought processes for so long, you tend to notice when something changes...

M realizes he is divulging too much and snaps out of it.


M (contd): I always feel like a greasy kebab at times like this. Maybe it's something in the electric meat shaver thing that just evokes memories of drunken nights and mysterious bruises acting as battle scars, compared between those who saw, and those who pretend they had. (beat) I feel a kind of aggressive nostalgia for those debaucherous days. I would do anything to be still under that one, singular light source, barely being able to stand due to the altered states, blacking out Blake's eyes and standing so close to him, that with the right music we would be sharing a slow dance. The air was thick and Miss Love bleaching her hair in the sink provided the perfect musings of life and love. We stumbled. We laughed. We fell. Now only I stumble. I pretend to smile. And they fall. They all fall. When I am King, you will be first against the wall.

M again realizes he is going too far and dials it back


M (contd): Some people suggest that human meat would taste similar to pork because of the similarity of blood supply and flesh density, blah blah blah. They're wrong. It's more like veal all over, but that really depends on how latent the person is, and where the meat is cut from. And who was the idiot who said the Chianti would pair well with liver?! ******* idiots. Too fatty. I wonder if the new 'Mock The Week' episode is up yet. Torrenting is a crime, I get it, but who pays for anything any more anyway? Imagine going to jail for video piracy! (laughs) God, like sharing a cell with a ****** or gang member or something, and you're there because you don't have Foxtel and you want to watch 'Game of Thrones'.


M finally decides to drop the facade of small talk and just be real*


M (contd): I'm not... normal. People don't often walk the streets covered in their neighbour's families blood. But if I take out my phone and pretend to be talking about how exciting tonight's costume party was, eyelids usually aren't battered. Normal people are too trusting.
Conor Oberst Jul 2012
Tomorrow when I wake up I'm finding my brother
and making him take me back down to the water.
That lake where we sailed and laughed with our father.
I will not desert him. I will not desert him.
No matter how I may wish for a coffin so clean,
or these trees to undress all their leaves onto me.
I put my face in the dirt and then finally I see
the sky that has been avoiding me.
I started this letter; I'm going to send it to Ruba;
It will be blessed by her eyes on the gulf coast of Florida.
With her feet in the sand and one hand on her swimsuit,
she will recite the prayer of my pen.
Saying, "Time take us forward, relief from this longing.
They can land that plane on my heart, I don't care.
Just give me November; the warmth of a whisper
in the freezing darkness of my room."
But no matter what I would do in attempt to replace
all these pills that I take trying to balance my brain;
I've seen the curious girl with that look on her face,
so surprised she stares out from her display case.
Brad Antonio Apr 2014
"Love is being caring. Caring about everything that is important to them. The little things, the big things, the things that they say don’t matter, but you get that inner feeling that they do. Caring about how your actions affect them. Caring about what they want. Caring for the fragile heart that is concealed within their frame of flesh.



Love is being faithful. Faithful to your word and to your promises. People make promises without knowing the extent of what they mean. Love keeps true to those promises no matter how hard it gets. Love is being faithful to them in an emotional sense. You have no eyes for anyone else. It means being faithful in a physical sense. You do not imagine committing promiscuous acts with anyone. Not even them. 



Because Love means respect. Respect for their wishes. Respect for what they need. Respect for their body and for their mind; you strive to keep them in the best condition. You respect their boundaries, again, both physical and emotional. 



Love is honest. It strives to keep dishonesty out of the relationship, knowing that it will tear it apart from the roots. Keeping lies away from the tongue, that could **** any blossoming concoction of emotions. It realizes that the object of the affection deserves the truth in all cases. Knowing that it’s best, no matter how it hurts.



Love is serving. It does anything possible to cater to the needs of the other. It recognizes that it wants to do anything it can to better the life of the other. 



Love is selfless. It puts off its own desires and wants for the other. It shares its thoughts, life, resources, and anything it can with the other. It gives them what they want at the mere expense of what it itself wants. It does so with complete happiness. 



Because Love is humble. It realizes that it has no authority or reason to be looked up at. It realizes that credit does not need to belong to it. It realizes that pride will split the branches of the partnership; it will create strife and dispute. Two of the things it strives so hard to demolish. 



Love is being patient. Understanding that human nature is hard to deal with. Understanding that patience is key to creating a solid foundation. It realizes that rushing with leave holes and unstable foundations that will leave everything to come crashing down upon itself, causing tears and heartbreak that could easily have been prevented. 



Love is understanding. It understands all of this. Whether it chooses to follow this depends on the degree in which it occurs. It understands that a human is nothing without love. Love makes the world go round. It understands that without this, it is nothing."

-Unknown
Zyanneh Frazier Oct 2015
Abortion

A screaming baby yelling
“Mommy! Please don’t let me go!”
All because it wants to see this world
But Mommy happens to have regrets and a mind filled with shame
All because nobody knows about little James or Joyce
Mommy isn’t ready for mistakes to happen
A screaming baby yelling
“Mommy! Please don’t give up on me!”
All because it wants to see Mommy smile
But Mommy happens to head to the clinic
All because she’s thinking about abortion
Mommy isn’t ready for regrets to happen
A screaming baby yelling
“Mommy! Please don’t do this to me!”
All because it wants to see its first birthday
But Mommy happens to grab for the scissors and then panics
All because she finally realizes life’s a blessing
Mommy isn’t ready to fall down the same path as last time
A screaming baby yelling
“Mommy! Please make the right choice!
All because it wants to know its gender
But Mommy happens to suffer from ***
All because she was ***** by a unknown man
Mommy happens to give life to a healthy
James Denzel Roberts
But…
A screaming baby yelling
“Mommy! I thank you!”
All because it misses its mommy
But Mommy happens to give James up for adoption
All because she doesn’t want James to suffer
Mommy happens to die 2 weeks later
As…
A screaming baby yelling
“Mommy! You’ll always be in my heart!”

By Zyanneh Frazier
The Name "James Denzel Roberts" Is Just a Random Name I Picked
liza Aug 2014
You don't realize how bad it hurts until it does. The ranting heteros wearing rainbows and yelling "just ignore them" ring in your head like a chant. At first, all you see is feminism and equality on every news page. They've turned your ****** birth defect into a fad. And it's only ok because, now you see the pre-teens want to be "#samelove" instead of  "#thin". And just as you've forgotten the way your father spit the word "****" at the dinner table, you've forgotten that you can't legally marry the love of your life in the town that you grew up. And that your mother will cry when she realizes your best friend is actually your partner. Somehow it slips your mind that the cheering equalist aren't your family or the place you work, when there are gay beaches and gay clubs and explicit gay franchises. When did they gay society accept segregation of sexuality? You'll always have to grocery shop and change your oil. Eventually the positive chants of the evolving present, and promise land of the future will morph into sobs. Today is not the day to hold your girlfriendʻs hand in the frozen treats aisle. Or the aisle lined with roses and white tinsel bows tied to edge of the pews.
You'll forget for a while the pain, but today isn't the day that it's gone forever. It still hurts. And it's going to hurt.
i just remembered when it all began to fall apart i was in mid-thirties weary of taking advantage of women i wanted to change grow become better person more compassionate find loving respectful relationship maybe marriage i knew i needed to step away stop

chicago 1985 Odysseus is a stranger to himself living someone else’s life does he really want what Mom Dad Chris want? is he lying to everyone else or himself? he snorts another line of ******* moves on to next girl in dizzy way he is having time of his life so much occasion to waste doors to open slam rooms to pass through “In the room the women come and go, talking of Michelangelo, and time yet for a hundred indecisions, and for a hundred visions and revisions” thank you t.s. elliott his ****** liaisons carry on from several weeks to several months begin with him adoring some girl or she adoring him little fires that burn themselves out for his part infidelity is rarely in question instead typically he or she feels let down by some personal response or character trait and simply stops calling in actuality no girl ever bothers to stick around they follow his lead and evaporate his mind draws a blank he wonders what do girls want? Deep inside he knows nothing in life is greater than the love of a woman he would have liked all those girls to be just one girl but she is missing where is she? occasionally he will run into one of his ex-lovers on street she wears an expression that hints why didn’t you phone me back? why did you stop calling? he suspects she is playing victim in self-satisfying charade in fact Odysseus crosses into new territory it is difficult to go back he hones his edge no longer is he wonder-stuck child possessed by curiosity for girls he requires **** and kink longer buildups then urgent bursts of effort drawn out climaxes nameless girl wearing tight jeans cowboy boots braids whom he meets in drake hotel elevator pushes stop button she ***** him off he has **** *** with tan-skinned french-canadian female tourist in telephone booth on north avenue gorgeous longhaired creole girl from new orleans ***** him on fire escape stairs **** *** with skinny punk girl in dark alley dutch foreign exchange student gives him ******* between parked cars on clark street weird awkward *** with goth girl in graveyard ****** by older blond woman who positioning herself underneath table in ritzy restaurant he has *** with chatty college sorority girl in jet lavatory he goes down on nerd girl wearing thick glasses in criticism section of depaul’s library he gets ****** ****** by perfect stranger in lake michigan each evening before he goes out prowling he looks in mirror wonders what strange female he will have *** with tonight it always surprises him what a person might not admit to or accept but allow or give in to if the right moment or if the right person is there not that he is particularly the right person rather he stumbles onto an astonishing streak there is the paris/milantokyo fashion model with stylish french haircut who possesses astonishing beauty perfect ***** and haughty temper after night of too many ***** martinis and ******* she announces “you and your friends are going nowhere  you’re all second-rate artist losers! and your cousin and his group are obnoxious *******” she flips him the finger then shoves him he shoves back resulting in dual arrests and domestic violence charges there is the tall blond stripper who totally fulfills his ****** desires once she lets him insert garden hose up her **** laughs uproariously as stream of water shoots out on another occasion she requests he *** in her *** he begins to believe he will marry her she insists she is too low class for his family one night she drunkenly hurls champagne bottle gives him black eye drives away crashes her car there is blue-eyed sweetheart with divine ****** loving touch who after months of sleeping with Odysseus confesses she is ******* some other guy and swears she will be faithful in the future she begs for his forgiveness as he loses it pushes her out door throwing her clothes after her one girl lights candles gives him full body massage ******* another girl holds him tight cries pushes him away one girl writes confessions with permanent markers on walls of closet another girl slaps him yells why? why why why! one girl runs to toilet pukes passes out on floor another girl sits up all night talking teasing never relieving him another girl falls asleep snores while he is in conversation one girl makes fun of small left ******* later gossips to her girlfriends he meets girl who will do anything except allow him to enter her ****** he meets girl who is professional escort she offers to do him for free she has lots of toys videos he declines they mess around she gets him off with ******* he meets girl whose ***** hair grows to mid-thigh she incessantly calls for her dog Bertram! he meets girl who shivers moans furiously cries laughs when he climaxes he meets girl with self-inflicted scars on arms legs who only wants it up her **** he meets girl who likes gagging deep-******* him to skull-**** her harder the better he meets girl whose ******* are so fierce she loses complete control drenching him sheets with her fluids excrement he meets girl who wants ******* squeezed so tightly he fears he will draw blood he meets girl who likes to talk ***** slaps his face as he is reaching ****** he meets girl with gargantuan ***** ******* as large as thumb she gurgles hot breaths later tries to steal string of beads he meets girl who enjoys lactating on his thighs while she gives him head he meets girl who knows how to contract vaginal muscles so tightly all he does is sustain ******* inside her in order to reach ****** he meets girl who pees tiny squirts while he penetrates her **** she laughs wildly he meets girl with furry mound who requests he **** on her as she masturbates he declines she reproaches him accusing you’re not nearly as freethinking as you pretend to be in fact you’re full of ****! he meets girl who wants him to act out **** they struggle he meets girl who desires to be ******* whipped he is not into inflicting pain he meets large strong girl who forces him he never tells anyone about incident he becomes mindful many females are more depraved than him women remain puzzle to Odysseus he is repeatedly astounded shocked can never predict about girl what her ******* ****** will look like whether she has eager *** or what are her secret desires he is explorer women are vast mystery he wonders are females as sexually driven as males? are they as vulnerable? is their **** like tiny *****? he speculates if completely unknown attractive woman walks up to any average man grabs his crotch many possibly most men will willingly allow it are women that weak? more than anything what most excites Odysseus is female lust handjobs are test of adequacy distinguishing character having masturbated thousands of times he thrills in having girl do it he delights in watching her arousal just staring at his ******* is captivated by method of her fingers hands revitalized by degree of her determination throughout he needs to ****** her ******* ****** *** titillated as she licks lips after swallowing ***** he realizes if he were female he would be total nymphomaniac yet he finds it difficult to imagine desiring men are all so like him women are so strange fascinatingly different he craves their otherness Odysseus loves women more than they love themselves smell sight of them sends him into frenzy problem is he fears their power over him

it’s been 25 years since those days i live alone for many years in tucson arizona have not been with a woman for long long time last relationship 2001 with crack ***** i hang my head cry wish for love wonder do i deserve to be loved pray to be forgiven
Just Me Jul 2013
For Her

The call came late that night. The voice on the other end asks for him; he answers in the affirmative. It then proceeds to deliver the dreadful news.

At first he does not believe the voice. He asks it to repeat it self. It does, this time offering words or sympathy and comfort.

But it's to late. She is gone. There are no words of comfort, no spells, no nothing that can bring her back to him.

The phone falls to the floor with a sharp clatter; he with a soft thump. He stares blankly ahead as his brain works to understand, comprehend, believe what has happened.

DEAD

The Word rings through his mind, his body, his soul. It consumes him. He understands nothing else. It traps him in its hold till he is numb, then it releases him.

First comes the grief and the tears. It washes over him crippling him once more. The tears stain his cheeks forcing him to remember.

Then the rage. Rage so red, so hot, it burns the Word out. He begins to blame everyone and everything. How could this happen? How could Fate be so cold? He blames and blames till there is nothing left to blame.

The rage passes as the guilt begins to seep in. It starts at the skin and slowly makes its way to his core. She had done nothing to deserve this! It should have been him, not Her! She had been innocent!

As the guilt reaches his core, his thoughts take a deadly turn. He could step off a chair, pull a trigger, take pills. Anything to end this pain and join Her. He could flood the tube, cut till he bleeds out...

Suddenly a cool calming sensation washes over him. His thoughts begin to clear, his emotions begin to calm. Her voice whispers in his ear, soothing him, begging him not to join Her.

For Me. She whispers then fades.

Her words strength him. They lead him away from the Darkness and Guilt and Rage. For Her. For Her, he must continue.

Day after day he gets stronger. For Her. He tells himself. For Her. Week after week. For Her. Month after month. For Her. Year after year. For Her, he whispers.

Till one day he sees her. she looks the same as Her, walks and talks the same. But as he begins to learn about her, he realizes she is not Her. she is like Her but not Her.

Month after month and year after year. Finally he has a reason to live, a reason to fight.

He realizes that She was right all along. Her words were right, for time had passed and he had healed. However he would never forget her. Every now and then he whispers softly to the sky For Her, Thank You.

High above She gazes down at the small family. The family she could have had. But She has no regrets. He his happy and that is all that matters.

A smile tugs at Her lips as She watches him. Finally he had found peace. Finally he had found love. Finally he had healed.

She would forever gaze down to watch and protect for though he was happy She knew She would be *forever in his heart
Note the capitalized Her and She verses the lower case her and she. They are two different characters.
Her/She= one character
her/she=another character
Hope this makes sense. It should within the poem but if it doesn't feel free to comment the questions below or message me. Hope you enjoy.
Lily
it didn’t take a lot a look a few words a few more looks bam not that any girl stuck around and so it was on to the next nothing is precious everything is possible forget what you know leave the road behind invent dance new dance cough spit breathe dance verbs multiplying gazillions of verbs stars what is it about art in my mind i hear all these things i was going to express all these itches scratch pick scabs get drunk write poetry dance ******* in your mouth ******* in my mouth salty sea surfing waves Caravaggio Courbet Turner Goya Ad Reinhardt Rothko Rimbaud Johnny Unitas Walter Payton Annie Proulx Patty Berglund Hannah Wilke Kim Gordon dark clouds rainbows meteor showers lantern licorice amethyst bone

in the end it’s you and your maker ashes to ashes dust to dust Mom questions it’s 4:30 PM December in Chicago and pitch black i don’t understand it’s not supposed to be this dark this cold she imagines a past that never existed events never occurred

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

it will be daylight soon and i am unprepared so terribly unfit for a new dawn suddenly realize tomorrow is today

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

when people die in masses is it any less lonely more comforting than when you die individually or is dying solitary for everyone

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

redemption is a powerful force but what if existence actually does not present second chances and we must live with the consequence of our mistakes

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

if there is an afterlife do i have any say in it or are we all merely lost baggage tossed from airport to airport

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

what if travelers at airports were met with welcoming arms shared stories food instead of suspicion body scanners separation boarding seating procedures

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

i built a magnificent sandcastle with wide open rooms interesting views spacious bathrooms huge kitchen secret places winding stairways auspicious towers swinging rope bridges welcoming gates but the tide washed it all away

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

i cry yet know not why am i a ***** i must take the goose by the neck whatever that means

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

speaking personally i’m never interested in the last bite only the first bite the middle tastes rather bland all chewing gulping automatic consumption talking swallowing stifling gases

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

horses mate with donkeys then out comes mules yet mules cannot propagate nature is so strange mysterious what is it about the attraction between donkeys and horses

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

2 gorgeous petite charming sweet young girls are subletting my place in Tucson i imagine ménage à trios or relationship with either one of them then realized how improper my thoughts will i ever learn

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

Reiko likes hanging out naked if the door is locked and they’re in for the evening she strips Reiko is one of those women who look better without clothes the curls under her arms are growing in dark thick her bush is filling out even her **** is hidden by silky brown hairs he cannot stop checking her out she pretends not to be aware as she trims her toenails he leers **** your cooch looks tasty Odys i like that you can speak crude to me he murmurs you really like that she answers yes i really like that he sees himself in her he is deep in sleep wakes by her hand pulling his hand down to her ***** bone he stirs confused in half sleep as she continues tugging his hand Odysseus realizes what Reiko wants it is 3 AM he touches her there warm distended begins to massage wetness gushes moves down bed puts face there she presses pumping grinding whispering repeatedly i want to *** so bad his mouth tongue breath work her hands grip his head push unyielding muscles stiffen arch shudder continues licking until her body lies still crawls up kisses her forehead hair bodies spoon fall to sleep in the morning he comments you were a naughty little girl last night Reiko grins answers i had an orangutan attack he questions an orangutan attack she confesses yeah they both laugh he has never known a woman so fierce urgent to ****** Reiko has a man’s libido she reminds him of himself they mimic each other hearing Reiko speak Odysseus’s own words back at him and visa versa convey how demanding insecure insensitive each can be to other they do not simply speak but mimic each other Reiko ‘s voice drops to low pitch as she grabs his buns kids hey Reiko Lee what do you think about us wiping each other’s butts we could become more intimate with our bodies Odysseus raises his voice sounding feminine replies Schwartzpilgrim you’re gross take a hike it is hilarious yet intuitive therapy that maintains level playing field neither allows other to be too weak or dominant

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

it is Sunday snowing blizzard freezing cold outside Odysseus sits on floor watching Bear’s football game at Reiko’s she sits naked paging through Art Forum magazine across sofa from him he hears her crunching on bag of barbecue potato chips during half time he reaches touches her bush runs fingers through her ***** hairs twirling them in his fingers she spreads her legs wide open he smells her hair breath perspiration ****** *** feet feels both repelled and attracted he is lost in fascination gently tugs on her lips slides finger inside massages probes her opening she directs him to kneel stands above him her arms at waist her pelvic bone in his face she orders **** it **** it good he follows her instruction **** my ***** she commands as she holds his head in hands her long skinny body thrusts hips forward Reiko presses gently pumping then more furious rough into Odysseus’s face ooohhh i’m going to shoot a load baby swallow my *** she shoves ***** bone into his face bangs his nose hard yet he remains ******* her legs thighs stomach muscles tremble oh oooohhhhh ohh Odys did you see that i came just like a guy oh Odys i loved that he wipes mouth laughs

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

a person’s sexuality is always in question how one interprets his or her own ****** persona relative to another person’s personality response ratio how one’s power measures reacts to another’s vulnerabilities strengths Odysseus and Reiko fit well together switching roles in impulsive volley he loves her masculinity the unpredictable equation of their love he teases Reiko Lee i’m so attracted to the tomboy in you i want to **** you off and let you **** me come over here and stick that fat hard **** in my pink little **** hole all the frustration rage pain pent up inside you i want you to harness that hurt and slam it into me and shoot your load all over me **** me good Reiko Lee she looks at him strange says you’re a weird bird Schwartzpilgrim how weird do you think he asks her voice takes on a creepy overruling tone Odys, you want me to fist-******* he snaps shut up Reiko Lee get out of here she runs fingers through hair breathes out through nose taunts Odys let me ******* a ***** and ******* in the *** Odysseus’s voice grows loud Reiko Lee you’re crossing the line just because i mention some crazy thought doesn’t mean i’m actually into such weirdness don’t try to take what i say to some sound conclusion i enjoy experimenting but i’m one hundred percent male i like to test limits because i’m secure in my manhood spicing our *** life with ***** fantasies is one thing but don’t overstep i got the **** and you got the ***** let’s keep it that way don’t mess with me she replies ok ok Odys i didn’t mean to offend you

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

often he personifies the lead and she interprets the willing or amendable he requests many ****** urges she for the most part eagerly fulfills yet knowing his desires run over the top he considerately concedes to her sensibility he asserts rule number 1 Reiko Lee please let me have my way with you ok please try to not refuse me she smiles consents ok Odys and i want the same from you he insists rule number 2 repeat after me i’m addicted to your ***** i’m codependent on your **** she repeats i’m addicted to your ***** Odys i’m codependent on your **** he challenges rule number 3 at least one ******* a day agreed? She answers yes Odys agreed later he thinks about their conversation approaches her Reiko Lee sometimes i need more than one ******* a day maybe one in the morning and one after you get home from work i need your adoring attention down there will you do that for me please she shoots sarcastic look at him what are you a cow that needs milking everyday all right Odys whatever you desire he gratefully acknowledges Reiko Lee you’re so good to me thank you next morning he says Reiko Lee when i think about you the first image that comes to mind is your eyes i love your eyes more than any other part of you she comments oh yeah more than my **** hole? he flinches surprised oh god i can’t believe you said that you are so outrageous Reiko Lee you have got the sexiest **** hole i’ve ever seen i love adore revere your hairy **** hole when are you going to let me get some of that she remarks we’ll see Schwartzpilgrim in due time the following morning he notices bathroom door is wide open peering inside he sees her sitting on toilet she looks up smiling as he nears he questions which are you doing peeing or ******* she answers why do you need to know he requests lift up and let me watch she raises her thighs knees legs curling toes on toilet seat her **** muscles pucker then a brown extent begins appearing from her hole her vaginal lips flare urethra presses as short spurt of ***** accompanies discharge the ***** length drops into bowl followed by smaller piece Odysseus perceives the action produced by her body as intimate natural expression occurring without contrivance manipulation he studies the form as if it were a sculptural object descended into water to bottom of bowl Reiko reaches for roll of toilet tissue he interrupts **** she answers let me wipe myself first it reeks in here you mean watching me taking a **** turns you on you are one sick monkey he says shut up and **** she follows his instruction after several minutes he pulls out of her mouth jerks off while she watches he shoots wildly on her chin neck chest she rubs his ***** on her ******* they both break out in laughter she says come on let’s take a shower together she begins speaking sentence he finishes it she says Odys i’m not comfortable with more than he breaks in one ******* a day i understand Reiko Lee she expresses thank you Odys one is enough agreed he replies ok ok

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

a week passes Saturday evening she comes from work to his place with stressed look on her face she falls back into wall on floor with her legs stretched out she asks got anything to eat he answers a couple of beers in the fridge her brow furrows as she speaks in low tone Odys i’m guessing there’s something seriously wrong with you he questions wrong with me huh what she comments your physique is weird your shoulder blades and rib cage stick out you’ve got a sunken sternum he answers yeah i know it’s not really a problem more like natural peculiarities she says yeah well you’ve got other peculiarities he asks oh yeah like what she remarks i’ve never known or heard of a man who gets hard as often as you it’s deviant you’ve got some kind of disorder you need to go see a doctor he admits i know i got a problem my libido is out of control it’ll calm down it’s been a long time since i felt so hot for someone do you really think it’s serious enough to go see a doctor she answers serious enough to insist you bone me once a day he laughs Reiko Lee you had me going she grins get over here you ***** ******* and **** me good Reiko’s favorite way to ****** is with her legs closed tight she lies beneath while his ******* presses in pumping her thighs buttocks squeeze stomach muscles tense whole body jerks spasms as she reaches ****** Odysseus’s favorite position is with Reiko on top he likes her rhythms and control

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

when Michael Vick was found guilty for dog fighting mauling cruel killing i wanted him dead dead dead but he is a brilliant quarterback and i was wrong who am i to understand another person’s background judge them maybe there is redemption

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

if another war comes it’s China we must fight to hate fear them run hide

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

it’s a long twisted road down a dark cold hole many are too damaged others work toward salvation yet some unscathed by all this filth

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

on the brighter side death gets a bad rap by mortals think positive perhaps death is graduation to whatever at worst death is release from life’s disappointments expectations responsibilities burdens betrayals pain horrors

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

i remember when Dad was dying all these new people who i still remember entered my life for a brief time it seems like the same thing is happening now

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache

Mom i’m right here behind you don’t be scared i’m watching out for you

these old bones rattle and shake tremble and quake quiver and ache
Antony Padilla Sep 2012
his muscles tense.
he hears unsteady steps,
the clapping
of bare feet
against concrete,
the unnatural moaning.
he clenches his fist
the leather of his glove
whines at his movement.
"Don't worry Benvolio, you will sup deeply soon enough."
he looks at his left hand
and realizes that his fingers
are dancing with one another.
"And you as well Mercutio."
the macabre applause of feet and concrete
is getting steadily louder.
the boy is barely a man
and yet his face is steady and sure
as one many times his age.
he stretches his back
and cracks his neck.
he takes a couple quick breaths
and one last deep one.
"Hunger no more my sweet destoyers!"
he exclaims as he leaps from the momentary safety of his dark corner
and is met face to face
with a fell creature of nightmare.
the first thing to hit him is the smell.
its' putrid stench,
strong enough
to make him lose some of his momentum.
he toddles back on the heels of his feet
and stops
looking at this thing of evil in disgust.
its blank eyes leak some manner of dark liquid.
its lips are cracked
and caked black with the old blood
of past victims.
these lips split to reveal
a tongueless maw
with six rotting teeth
three on top
and three on the bottom.
it let's out a bone chilling gasp
that sounds like a breeze
blowing through the grass
of a graveyard.

a zombie.

for longer than he should have
he simply stood there
his eyes locked on
the nauseating visage
of the monster.
and then his hands began to twitch.
with a start he was brought back to reality.
he looked down at his hands
made perfect by the smooth black leather of his gloves.
he looked back up only to realize that he had
allowed himself
to be surrounded by these slow
ponderous
beasts.
he smiled
"It's time to eat."
the zombie closest to him
groaned as if in agreement.
he flexed his shoulders
and cracked his neck
and went to work,
furiously flashing
his two companions
back forth at an unnatural speed
three hits send it's head flying
as if blown off by a shotgun.
he feels the cold tight grasp of something
on his shoulder
one quick breath
and then one swift and perfect motion
he spins
to faces his adversary.
one quick breath
and he releases Benvolio.
he feels the power rise
from the bottom of his foot
up through his twisted hips
and into his massive back and shoulders
to pool inside the knuckles of his fist
for less then a second
and explode
into the side of the head of the soulless corpse,
his vicious right hook leaving
an eruption of ichor
where the creature's head once was.
his eyes light up
with the joy of a madman
as he charges through the scattered crowd
of undead
dozens of grasping, gripping hands
try to stop his momentum.
he just keeps plowing
and keeps laughing,
cutting through the swath
like a scythe to barley,
leaving headless corpses in his path.
he finally breaks free of them
and runs harder than before,
still laughing to himself.
he rushes down the mountain of asphalt
with the speed of an olympiad.
it isn't until he finds another
dark hiding spot
that he realizes how hard he is breathing.
gasping,
wheezing,
fighting for air.
his chest heaves
as he looks down
at the blood drenched leather of his once
pristine black gloves.
the noisy rattling of his heavy breathing
makes him shake
"No more gasp today. I need to wheeze I need to rest."
his hands quiver in protest
"No more. Not today. I need...sleeeeep."
and he collapses in exhaustion.
the noise is loud and clamorous
and the white eyes
of reanimated bodies
look up in the direction of the disturbance.
but he doesn't know,
he's sleeping deeply.
Ete Sep 2011
Drugs.
Illegal drugs.
Marijuana, *******, ecstasy, mushrooms, LSD.
All taken by the governments.
And they picked the right drugs to take away from us.

Drugs can be a very good thing as they can also be a very bad thing.

Because with drugs,
one can get closer to what is real, as,
one can get further away to what is real.

Everybody carries the freedom to explore and experiment with what ever they want.

But the governments do not want people to experiment with them-selves and with these substances.

The governments want to keep things organized in their own chosen structure so that they can control people.

And they know that drugs can actually help and be useful.

They know that drugs can be used for spiritual practices and that in these practices one can become a realized man of truth.

Every drug gives you a different effect,
a different experience,
and as you experience the effect of which ever drug,
this will bring about an opportunity to encounter reality.

Because when one sees what is NOT real,
one begins to see what IS real.

Drugs allow you,
the opportunity,
to realize that you are the observer behind the experience.



Marijuana is such an amazing substance,
such an amazing plant.

It brings upon such deep relaxation.

And when one is "high",
present is the opportunity to understand the simplicity of what is truly happening:
that the body and mind are becoming still,
your body feels lighter and more at ease.

Here,
in this state,
it could be easier to watch and recognize your true self.

Your body and mind are elevated by the effects of marijuana,
and if you become very silent and you close your eyes and you stay there,
and you start watching and experiencing,
you might just feel as if you are separate from the body and mind,
and though the body and mind feel so relaxed,
you are somewhere else,
very very still.

Trying **** can change your whole view and perspective towards life.

The simple act of doing something that is illegal,
gives you a sense of freedom.

It can amplify and support the freedom that you have.

There are other drugs,
stronger more intense drugs like ecstasy.

Here is another opportunity to experience a different feeling in the body.

Ecstasy is a little bit riskier and more harmful to the body.

It provokes an amazing feeling called ecstasy.

Though many are not aware,
we all already carry that feeling within us.

One just needs to activate it.

The pill simply skips the whole meditation and takes one straight to  ecstasy.

If you have ever tried ecstasy,
wonder and contemplate the following question:
what happens when in ecstasy...??

When one is  on ecstasy,
there is nothing more but the present moment.

You are totally IN the moment,
you are extremely happy IN the present moment,
you are feeling everything IN the present moment,
you see everything,
hear everything.

You become so utterly loving.

You start sharing your love,
and this brings even more ecstasy.

If you are highly aware and alert,
it will not take too many pills to realize that though you get this awesome feeling of ecstasy,
there is also a bad,
sometimes horrible,
side to it:
When your body doesn't feel healthy with it.



The mushroom is a very,
very,
revealing drug.

Natural to begin with,
And very revealing.

Because the mushroom is a poison,
when the poison is in you,
in a very subtle way,
you experience a slow form of death.

If one eats a sufficient amount of mushrooms,
one might just poison oneself to death.

But when one consumes just a little bit,
One goes threw this interesting experience.

The body recognizes that this is a source of poison,
and with its own intelligence,
it tries to get rid of the mushroom.

So one might **** it, or,
one might ***** it.

The point is that it is a poison.

And as one experiences this poison inside one's body,
because one is coming closer to death,
one is coming closer to life also.

In that moment,
again it happens,
that there is only THAT moment.

You do not care about anything else because you are so in-to that moment.

You feel so connected to nature and the environment,
as if you are one with it all.

And here,
once again,
another opportunity to realize that you are not the one who is experiencing the whole trip,
but that you are the one who is watching the experiencer.

And if you are watching the body-mind go threw this whole process,
you can not be the body-mind.

So it does not matter whether you die or you don't in that moment,
because in that moment you can free yourself from the idea of death.



LSD is the greatest one of them all.
Because LSD does not give  a feeling of being poisoned.

LSD enhances all senses,
one can feel ten times more,
one can see ten times better, hear, taste, etc..

All of ones senses are amplified.

And again ,
this is simply just another opportunity to realize that one is far away as the witnessing presence to what is happening to the body-mind and to the senses.

When you experiment with all these drugs,
and you realize that you are  just the watcher of it all and not the experimenter,
you will not keep experimenting with them.

Because like i said,
drugs can get you closer to the truth,
to what is real.

And once one realizes certain truths like:
one is not the body,
one is not the experiencer,
one will realize deeper truths like:
one is with no form just a watcher,
a witness.

And having gone beyond all drugs and experiences,
one will not continue using drugs,
since one is aware that they will only harm the body.

It does not matter what drug one does,
one has already known the truth about ones self.

The only new thing in a new drug,
would be the new experience,
the new feelings,
the new emotions that come about.

But when one sees that one is greater than all these things,
one realizes,
that thou the body-mind is affected by the effects of drugs,
ones true self is not affected by any-thing.

Your true self does not change at all,
it remains the same,
always,
that peaceful awareness.

If you are not aware and alert,
you will start doing drugs and you will start to get lost in them.

You will get lost in your own mind,
in your own "reality",
in your own projection of life.


I get the feeling that the governments know about the potential transformation that drugs can bring to a person.

Because of this,
they have made all these substances illegal.

Not only because of economical reasons.

But also,
so that people remain firm and steady in the manner and in the way that they want you to be.

They do not want you to experience all these extra-ordinary experiences.

They want to keep you straight in THEIR straight line.

They do not want you to go drifting in-to these realizations.

Beause you might just awaken yourself threw them and realize that you are totally free.

And how then can a fully realized individual be ruled?
begin end begin he writes come to party in my room ashtray spilled on sheets mirror smeared clothes scattered everywhere i’m reclining on floor pulling on ***** hair writing lonely-hearts poem i don’t care about your photograph i just want to know will you come to party in my room? i have confidences to share secrets to reveal no one to give my body to i need to feel warmth of another there is food if you are hungry i’ll just watch listen to you will come won’t you? please this is no prank are you there? i just wanted to invite you to party you’re my only guest i need you i sound desperate you want to know how long i’ve been this way kind of let myself go grown used to this room that keeps my secret used to sleeping alone in big double bed i think i shall go take hot bath don’t come another night perhaps i can do it quite well myself thank you you probably would have felt out of place anyway - london 1971

nothing wrong with beating off but i prefer female sometimes pretty thing replies Odys you have a way with words actually he prefers woman all times tends to be too impatient rough handling himself needs woman’s gentler slower adoring touch

i wouldn’t mind wife if she is simply **** in residence leaning against doorway posing between me and kitchen he considers let’s get cruel in cruelty one finally realizes one’s own true self-interest who am i? am i cruel enough to be sick-hearted *******? am i capable of oppression torture? do i honestly desire *** slave? do i believe all hope of becoming normal human is gone? he hears her words i have cuffs crop leg spreader flogger hood paddle cane like swelling bruises on my *** never touch my face arms legs i like to be spit on while you pull hair i like servicing man who takes pleasure in giving brutal intense pain *** on my face **** **** on me i'm looking for white muscular egotistic man who is into sadomasochism i enjoy abuse part just as much as *** part is he lightweight no stomach for collared sadism? He mumbles to himself bottom line i respect love women this existence is killing me ignores his thoughts sings aloud we’re used to being rude to each other used to getting crude with each other come on now pretty thing sit next to me

female fantasy number 1 man’s ******* is like handle on slot machine if woman pulls it right way 3 cherries line up in his eyes ***** jingle ring money shoots out ***-hole female fantasy number 2 science invents way in which more money woman spends shopping more weight she can lose

i imagined you were plateful of pancakes you giggled when i poured syrup on your face i smiled pondering how lovely you would taste we sat for a while gazing into each other’s eyes until you got cold rubbery i didn’t want to eat you anymore

maybe he is not so charming anymore maybe Odysseus has become blunt  difficult he tries to be respectful but sometimes he is excessive self-willed time place names have lost any mearing during lively discussion with pretty thing creativity versus craft he confronts original invention requires destruction surely you realize that? pretty thing replies Odys i didn’t realize you were so dominant you seem so playful puppy-like in daytime i never would have guessed you’re such a chauvinistic ******* he questions chauvinistic ******* what’s that suppose to mean? i don’t know what you’re talking about she answers don’t play dumb Odys i know you’re smart at semiotics he asks semiotics what does that mean? I don’t know the word listen you’re right and i’m wrong i apologize i didn’t mean to get so argumentative he reaches for dictionary on floor next to chair pretty thing crosses legs speaks i’m very careful to use simple words everyone can understand but i’m just sign painter isn’t that right Odys? what would i know? he pleads you’re not making any sense we both use brushes paint similar techniques that’s beside the point i apologize she insists you’re way off the subject Odys he begs you’re right i’m wrong whatever i said made you get so upset please forgive me her voice cold terse i need to go home Odys you scare me you’re way too fanatic

thinks to himself promise her anything but give her the finger just when she’s finally starting to fall for whole scam give her the slip 6 to 12 weeks is average life expectancy for modern romance it’s fast world we’re all expendable can’t hear what you’re saying music is too loud rule number 1 no matter how beautiful she is there’s always someone who’s sick of her rule number 2 why would you even be talking with her if she didn’t have *****? rule number 3 they’re all ******* ******! he tries to recall if Bayli ever behaved like ***** he concludes no never did she become one?

in restless sleep he dreams someone tells him Bayli is working at ******* bar he goes to see her Bayli looks young beautiful wearing thong nothing else many men are pursuing her he excitedly approaches but she seems to only vaguely recognize him she questions do i know you? he answers Bayli it’s me Odys! she answers my name is not Bayli Odys who? where do you know me from?” he pleads Bayli, look at me Bayli smiles hesitantly as she looks around for support points finger towards Odysseus 2 bouncers approach shove him against wall force him outside bouncer barks her name is not Bayli now get hell out of here you freaking loser! they go back inside slamming door as he walks away neighborhood kids throw apples at him wakes up confused sad from dream

he vows i don’t need love love is for those too lame to stand alone bear solitude self-avowal love is sign of weakness compliance control love is contract made between two people too spineless to take pleasure in own freedom love is way to take advantage exploit love is convenience pact for mutual security love is cumbersome weight tied around athlete’s neck love is suffering love is a lie illusion cover-up for everyone’s petty lame problems

1984 chicago suffers harsh winter furious winds blow across lakefront Mom and Dad take Odysseus to dinner at posh new restaurant in art galleries district on the way Mom and Dad argue about parking Mom wants to leave car with valet Dad insists they first look for space Mom gets annoyed the wind will ruin my hair drop me and Odys off at door then do what you want Dad says you’re going to miss me when i’m gone Mom snaps we’ll see when are you planning on leaving? Dad wears navy blue blazer white shirt burgundy foulard silk tie he is in good spirits winning personality keeps table lively Mom wears beige cashmere turtleneck darker beige wool skirt brown alligator high heels gold earrings she waves then greets roths weissmans who are led by young hostess they walk past table make brief polite conversation after several rounds of drinks Dad speaks you know, it’s about time Odys are you dating anyone in particular? Odysseus hesitates confesses he has had ****** relations with hundreds of girls his knees begin to shake under table he admits maybe I’m incapable of sustaining intimate relationship with one woman i’m conflicted blocking all these feelings inside never learned how to love can’t hold on to anything all i know how is **** and run Mom interjects don’t use that word! she suggests he travel get some fresh ideas Dad becomes irritated lights cigarette waives to waiter orders another Absolute on the rocks bursts out what the hell do you mean you never learned to love you grew up in a house of love *******! didn’t you learn anything? are you purposely trying to ruin dinner? you watch your step mister or i’ll whack you right here at the table! you make me sick with all your excuses one of these days you’re going to wake up Odys and I hope it’s not too late Mom immediately glances at roth’s weissman’s table then glares sharply at Dad she snaps Max lower your voice! people can hear you we’re in a restaurant can we please change the subject? she instantly regains composure continues i spoke with your sister Penelope today and she let me know she might be landing a new account she’s being wined and dined this evening by c.e.o. of prominent san francisco agency later waiter clears entrees asks if anyone wants after-dinner drink dessert Mom orders coffee apple pie with scoop of vanilla ice cream Dad orders coffee Mom asks what do you wish for in your life Odys? who do you want to be? he exhales long breath answers i used to dream of becoming renown painter but now i’m not sure sad to say don’t know what i want sometimes i think of priesthood but i’ve done too much sinning Dad grows irate who puts these ideas into your head? you ******* ungrateful kid! what the hell is matter with you? Mom interrupts Max don’t lose your temper we’re in a restaurant she glances at roth’s weissman’s table nods with big smile on face Odysseus feels entangled in web of desires deceptions debts he vacillates from one aspiration to next grown comfortable in his failures distrust
heather leather Dec 2015
i'm searching for something that i can't reach

she sleeps irregularly. she cries and breathes all at the same time
but does not make a sound. her face falls apart every morning when
she realizes she is still alive. the anger coursing through the blood
vessels in her body is not caused by anything, it comes rapidly and
mockingly. she counts to ten and holds the air inside her lungs and
hopes to any being listening that her nose stops working so that the
air inside her can expand and then eventually diminsh so that she
can tear herself apart all over again. she eats unhealthy. stuffing salty
fries and refrigerated microwaved chicken down her throat and forcing
the urge to throw it all out down to her skeleton so that the food
remains in her body, making bumps in her stomach and sticking
out of her ribs like unwanted monsters. she likes being ugly. she likes
that no one ever notices her and when they do they don't say a
word she likes that her own body betrays her and punishes her eyes
when she wakes up in the morning and realizes she is still alive.
she is a phantom. she is a ghost. she is a whisper. knowing her will not
be an adventure it will be a maze filled with poisoned leaves and razor
sharp rocks. her smothering brown eyes will captivate you and
undo every single knot in your body and make you feel like gravity
does not exist. but she will not be pretty. she will never be beautiful.
touching her will be like trying to collect shards of glass off of the floor
from a bottle of wine that you accidentally dropped. she will not
love you. she will not love herself. she will only convince you that she is
happy being a mess, a disaster and you will have no
choice but to believe her because your love is short lived and
only exists when she feels worthless and lonely enough to want
your company. you know this. she knows this. neither of you will
say it. the truth is an ancient phonebook neither of you have
ever heard of. *she is not a hurricane, there is no eye in her


(h.l.)
ghost by halsey

"i'm searching for something that i can't reach," ghost by halsey
"do you call yourself a ******* hurricane like me?" -hurricane, halsey

thoughts?
Chantal Jun 2018
To have an epiphany. To realize ‘wow, this is it.’
To see that not everyone has the same heart as you do. As humans, regardless of whether christian, Muslim, Jew or any other religion, we are predisposed to believe the idea that we should treat others the way we want to be treated and that by norms, if we are kind, we should expect kindness in return. But no one actually talks about how rarely, if ever, that happens. In life there is always a garden and a gardener but people haven’t learned yet to take turns and balance out that compliment. A gardener takes care of a garden for decades until one day, they turn frail and die. And the garden will either be tended to by another gardener or will wither away. The world is so full of harsh realities that are hidden. To say that there are only a few genuine people is completely and utterly wrong. For every person there are only a few genuine people. That is correct, so in that sense, yes there are only a few genuine people but in the world there are many of them. These genuine people become involved in a persons life one day and their intentions are undeniably pure. They give and give and give, and that’s the reason that every person only gets a few genuine people; no one realizes who the genuine people are around them, or if they do then they simply dont care enough to think, this person has only tried for me for so long, and I feel warmth in my heart because no one else tried like that.
-c.j.m
Steele Dec 2014
For my morning run, it rains again.
I run into town every morning anyway.
Some day they'll be flooding, I think, when
the rain realizes it won't stop my foray.
Oddly, no one in this town would blame me then.
I think that's what keeps me on my merry way.

It's hard to step out of my sunny shell, and let the rain soak my hide.
Yet I'll keep smiling when it rains; that means once again I made it outside.
Introverts gonna introvert, yo. #dealwithit
Sasha Ranganath Jun 2014
A stranger she was
Was it fate or
Was it destiny
That made us meet?
Although never face to face
I see in her amazing grace.
Swiftly she moves
To the rhythm of life.
People trying to bring her down
But she won't bow
To the undeserving.
She is strong
She is beautiful.

Ready to fight the world,
In she will come
Like a whirl.
Assurance is what she needs
And assurance I will give.
"Love, don't be sorry"
Said I to her,
And poured my heart out
Through these words.
I hope she realizes
The strength within,
The power to face the world
And not beat herself up.
Cruelty never dies
It's omnipresent.
But she can conquer the galaxies
If she wants.
I believe in her with all my heart,
Nothing comes above
I will forever be with her
*She is my love
She is my soul sister.
Dedicated to a dear friend and beautiful young girl. <3
Tyler James Oct 2014
A Tree of Life with roots of evil will die in the storm,
before it’s ever born.
The sun will be its father, and it will be raised by mother earth.
If it soaks up knowledge it will survive its birth.
Sprouting ideas while growing its spirit.
There’s a whisper in the wind... be quiet and you can hear it.
Doesn’t need to fear it, when the weather gets cloudy.
It knows its true colors and reveals them proudly.  
It cannot be not shy, because when it looks around.
It realizes every other tree is similar,
Just different branches in the ground all waiting to be found.
Discovered and loved; nourished by nature.
It realizes its reflection is its only true stranger.
Covered with bark so you cannot see the inner.
Shadowed by the dark, transforms to a sinner.
A stump at worst, and a home at best.  
Too much is in between to explain the rest.
Now let it be known, when the red leaf falls,
It’s the end of a season for no apparent reason.
Time to change its ways; it won’t take a few days.
Give it time to mature to reach its full potential.
It sounds so simple, yet gets complicated.
When it timbers down, something new is created.
It went from a seed to sprout, conquered any drought.
Now with a shout of thunder, it just can’t help to wonder.
"Why am I here, and what is my purpose?"
But if it received the answer, would life really be worth it?
Ete Dec 2011
We are consciousness, and only consciousness.

The consciousness that is somehow bound to the body, is conscious of everything.

Thoughts are like people moving around in the market place. Thoughts are everywhere and when we give our attention to thoughts, when our consciousness looks at thoughts, which are everywhere to be seen, which are all around us, we experience thinking.

It is very important that we understand that we are consciousness and only consiousness.

This way we can free ourselves from the prison that we are in but yet don't know we are in. Humanity is enslaved thanks to the mind. Not just because the mind exists, but because of the believes that we carry in the mind, which are believes that keep us limited. We believe things that are not truly true, and this keeps us in a kind of prison.

When we are born in a body, we are free and we are just consciousness, purely conscious.

As we grow, all the information that is already here in the world is ingested into our mind. As we continue to grow, and as all this information continues to grow in our mind, we start to forget that we are just pure consciousness. By the time we are teenagers, and by the time we start to become adults, we have totally forgotten that we are just consciousness and we live our lives in a little box because we limit ourselves with the believes that are inevitably conditioned upon us. We believe that we are this body and we are not this body. When i say we, i am talking about the consciousness, the pure consciousness.

And the problem is not only that we believe we are this body, but we grow the habit to think compulsively.

Anything in this world can become a habit, and for the mayority of humanity , thinking has become a habit.

So what happens?
The pure consciousness that you are is never pure, is never silent, is never fully conscious because first of all, we are taught to believe that we are the body-mind, and second of all, we grow the habit to always think by always having to judge ourselves to see if what  we are doing is right or wrong, to see if we are to be punished or if we are to be rewarded. And this supports and strengthens the believe that we are the thinker, that we are the body.

When we don't allow spaces of no-thought, of no-thinking, we forget that we are an empty sky.  

My effort on leaving behind all these words is to wake up as many people as possible.

People are missing a great opportunity.

People stay living in a little room when they can be living in a huge palace.

All that has to do be done is to find a little distance between thoughts, between feelings, between everything and always remain a watching presence. Now, we are always this watching presence, we are always consciousness even if we are unconscious about it. Even if we are unconscious about the fact that we are consciousness , we remain consciousness. For example, all animals are consciousness, they are awareness, but they are unaware of this. Their body limits them because it lacks intelligence. They are not fully and totally free and they can not be either. But at the same time they don't have to be. By nature they  don't have to be intelligent, they are fine just how they are and they are in the process of one day becoming conscious like we are, like the humans are. Still, there are many humans who remain unconscious of the fact that they are consciousness and only consciousness. Without shape, without form. Just consciousness, awareness, everywhere. This whole universe is consciousness and when this consciousness is merged to a body, the body is simply a contact point of the consciousness.

At some point, when the body of a baby is being developed in the mothers womb, a little spec of consciousness enters and binds to the body of the baby and this happens because through the human body, through a human experience, the consciousness is capable of becoming aware of itself and this realization is possible in any one life time, in any one human experience. But, it has not been so. It has taken many many life-times and many many people have not yet realized this. People can't even believe that they had a life before this life and that they can have a life after this life as well. People can't even conceive this. But it is true. People have been going life after life, obviously and naturally not remembering the past life, but going life after life not going beyond life. Not going beyond the human or atleast not even understanding, discovering, learning , what life is, what the human is. People remain ignorant and afraid because of the conditioning that they receive.

All conditions prevent the being from trascending their lives and consciousness because in our true nature we are totally unconditioned- free-beings. Any condition that is imposed on us goes against our very nature and anything that goes against nature is bound to have problems.  

And so my reason for saying these things that i have discovered to be true in me, is to help people remember or to atleast give people a new idea that there is the possibility of something more, of something greater than life, something with no limitations, something with no death, something that can not get sick, that can not feel pain, something of pure joy and peace , of pure love.

Every single human being is searching for this something, every single human being is searching for themselves. And they are searching because they remember. They have been themselves before. They are themselves right now. They are consciousness right now, but there are so many things in the mind that they forgot and they dont know. And when they hear something that is true, when something is said that points to that consciousness, automatically something is felt inside, something is triggered.

This whole search for truth or for enlightenment is a search for our own selfs.

It is a remembering process that happens.

Go into this search as empty as possible.

The less conditions you carry , the less knowledge you carry, the more simple and humble you are, the easier it is to remember who you are, because it does not take knowledge to know that you are consciousness, that you are awareness, it simply takes consciousness and awareness.

So it is important to be aware of everything, of every single thought that comes in and out. Be aware of the believes that you believe and the believes that you don't believe.

I don't know if there are people who for some reason are not ready to awaken, even though they can, even though every single human being can awaken, but,  there are people who have put too much into their believes, too much faith, and who can not even concieve the idea of dropping these believes, these investments. Now, the funny thing is, that even all these people who are unaware, are consciousness themselves. And it makes sense that these people who are unconscious , are here in the world so that other people can wake up, so that other people can learn from them, so that other people can see their unconsciousness, can see their behaviors, and use them towards their journey, towards their enlightenment, towards their shift of consciousness.  

"We are itself the consciousness presenting itself as human nature" - Mooji.

We , the consciousness, invisible consciousness that can not be seen nor touched, which one day was before Earth was created, that consciousness that is everywhere like space, over time has manifested itself in the world of form, in the world of matter and eventually through the movement of what appears to be time, manifested itself as a human being.

It is an invisible yet conscious phenomena that has managed to make a form out of atoms and elements, managed to make a form out of itself, out of elements of itself, and managed to create the world that we can see today. And seeing the vastness of the universe, we can see the many possibilities that exist, the many possibilities of consciousness to keep growing, to keep creating, to keep expanding, to keep evolving.  

One day i am not going to be able to express myself through Esteban, yet i will be expressing myself through other bodies, with other names. And i have been expressing myself through other bodies also, like for example one of my favorite man, Osho, Bhagwan. Osho is I. Osho is the same consciousness that is in Esteban, expressing. Now, we look different in the outside, our voices are different, our accents are different, but it is the same consciousness trying to express the same thing. Once we know that we are this limitless consciousness, we can start focusing on creating things. But right now what is important is that everybody realizes that we are this consciousness, because if not everybody knows this, then we can not create, we can not work to our full potential. Once we know who we are, once we know WHAT we are, we will know exactly what we have to do, what we can do, and we would do it with a quality that has not existed before. A quality of super consciousness, a godly quality. So before we focus on the outside world we have to focus on the inside world first. Before we can create beauty outside we have to create beauty inside, because the outside world is a reflection of the inside world.

If the inside world is not pure, is not balanced, then the outside world will not be pure, will not be balanced.

If inside of us there is tension, anxiety, fear, hate, anger, violence; this is what will be expressed outside of us. If inside of us there is love, wisdom, peace, joy, beauty; then outside of us there will be all of this as-well.

The problem is not whether we are thinking negatively or positively, the problem is that we are thinking unconsciously.

That we think negative or positive thoughts does not matter as long as we know that we are thinking. And not because we are the thinker but because thoughts are passing through the mind and here the consciousness that we are , "thinks". But it does not think as in it is doing something, it simply sees the thoughts. The consciousness does not even move, does not even blink, does not have eyes like these eyes. The consciousness just is, and the consciousness sees thoughts moving, occuring.

The problem is not that the consciousness is seeing negative thoughts, the problem is that if the consciousness is seeing negative thoughts, it believes the negative thoughts.

You forget that you are the awareness that watches thoughts, totally separate from the thoughts.

You are simply giving attention to the thoughts.

Like i said before, thoughts are moving all around you. You can not see or grab them because they are so subtle in their manifestation, yet they ARE energy in movement, they exist but in different frequencies of existence. And they are everywhere.

When we experience thoughts, what ever category of thoughts, it is because we are giving our attention to those thoughts. Every single thought is available to us. The mind is not just your mind, my mind; The mind is one universal facility, available to all.

And so, the problem is not that you are thinking negativily.

The problem is that you are thinking unconsciously.

Become more conscious of your thinking. Become conscious of thoughts. If the thoughts are negative, watch them. If the thoughts are positive, watch them. But don't judge them as negative or positive, dont judge the thinking. If negative thoughts are percieved, don't start saying to yourself  "oh why am im always thinking negatively? ;( " because this IS another thought and you are not watching it. Usually THIS is the thought that is not watched.

You watch a thought, for example, you watch a negative thought. This negative thought brings out negative emotions because thoughts are the cause of emotions. Emotions are energies-in-motion. You watch your thinking, you watch the negative thought and then you say, "oh this thought is bad, why am i thinking these thoughts? I should not be thinking this way, what is wrong with me?" that right there is a thought also and you are thinking, believing, that it is you!

Any judgement is a form of thought.

Anything that consists of words or symbols and even images are thoughts. It is all mind and the problem is that there are thoughts that are not being watched, observed, and this is keeping you unconscious and troubled.

There are many thoughts that we are not aware of.

For example, we watch a negative thought , we percieve a negative thought, but then the next thought that talks about that negative thought, we don't see because we think, believe, that we are the one who talks instead of remaining the watching consciousness that we are.

We are not the one who talks because we don't even have a mouth to talk through. We are simply and only consciousness. We use the human body as an instrument to talk and express ourselves but we remain the conscious awareness.

Those thoughts that are not being watched are keeping us from going deeper into life.

These unobserved thoughts are keeping us traped in the mind.

So if you ever ask yourself the question, what is life?
What is my purpose in life?
What should i do?
What should i not do?
If you are not out of the mind, you will not get the true answer because the mind is limited to these questions.

The mind will only give you that which has already been given. It will not give you originality.

Simply try this out:

When ever you are experiencing thinking, let the thoughts be, don't judge them as negative or positive thoughts, as good or bad thoughts, just watch them. If you do judge them and you say "*** why am i thinking that?! " watch that, watch that judgement. Keep watching, just simply watching, purely aware of every single thought, keep watching and you will start to feel a distance, a silence, a space.

See how long you can go from thought to no-thought to thought.
See how long you can remain in a silent gap between thoughts.
Watch your thoughts, watch your thinking and see how the watchingness slowly expands.
See how the silent gaps become longer.
And see the peace that these silent gaps bring.
Äŧül May 2015
The saga in her eyes converts into a constant downpour soon after she realizes her freedom from the spell of the dark witch, the curse had turned her a prisoner in the evil witch's body.

"Kind sailor thank thee for freeing me."
Her words reverberate throughout,
What wind - what land - what sea,
Everywhere is her presence as I can see,
The wind whispers her name in my ear,
Since a long long time now all I wear,
Is her scent in my immortalized memory.

"Will you stay with me forever, or,
Will you go back to the heavens?"

Though I really wanted her to stay,
I love her and realize what she felt,
I offered her freedom and a choice,
I was not binding her to me in turn,
Everything was instinctive from me.

She seemed in a serious dilemma,
Struggling hard she was in herself,
I again offered & insisted this time,
"It's better to go back to your world,"
But I knew that she loved me a lot,
She tried hard controlling but said,
"I am in love with you since long."

So I am quite right that she loves me,
I am sure even she can forget me not,
Beading all our memories together,
I now know how I can gain salvation,
Not being another self-centric tantric,
"But you don't belong here, dear,
You shouldn't torture yourself for a mortal."


After this, she now looks comfortable & composed,
Ready for making a choice she wore a heart of stone,
Her lips slowly parted revealing a perfect smile,
Pearly smile again ensured me of permanent happiness,
Bright eyes and shiny eyelids of hers seemed so good,
"You can't make me stay away because you love me too,
I will keep coming in your dreams and entice your nights."


But I wanted her in my real-world now,
I prevented her from vanishing again,
I said, "Please stay, now do not go away,
Because I really can not bear that pain,"

She had almost vanished by then,
Listening to my words she chose to wait,
She said, "Even I want forever to stay."

Continuing with her divine dialogue she said,
"Say those golden words to make me stay,"
I immediately confessed, "I love you, Angel,"
"Say you love me too, oh my divine Angel,"
She didn't wait for anything more to say it,
"I love you too, oh my kind & loving sailor,"
Her powers soon left her in a flash of light.
Does the 'Angel?' saga end here or is it a new beginning?

Well all of this angel series was my way of interpreting my own life till now in a poetic and mythical way.

The Angel I finally have gotten in my life is named Pooja Shah.

Read 'Angel?' saga part 1/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/265976/angel/

Read 'Angel?' saga part 2/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1070432/angel-again/

Read 'Angel?' saga part 3/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1154639/angel-surely/

Read 'Angel?' saga part 4/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1166821/angel-illusion/

Read 'Angel?' saga part 5/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1170623/angel-not-again/

Read 'Angel?' saga part 6/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1179276/angel-forever/

Read 'Angel?' saga part 7/7 here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1182887/angel-ultimately/

My HP Poem #860
©Atul Kaushal
Francie Lynch Feb 2015
She shakes her ****
When I get home;
Does everything
To get the bone.
She realizes;
I recognize.

The new born eyes
Me so intently;
I return the gaze
Just as gently.
She realizes;
I recognize.

The battered bird
With feathers thinning,
Knows Spring's waxing,
Winter's waning.
It realizes;
I recognize.

So too with art
As pieces languish,
Some we banish
As too outlandish;
Some are lost
At our great cost;
Some are found
Underground,
In a cave
On frescoes walls,
In attic, cellar,
Flea market stalls.

A sonnet found
In some distant shire,
Or ten words
Of wisdom
We retired;
Banished today,
Tomorrow admired.
We realize;
We recognize
Not all our work
Can inspire,
When buried in
The hit pismire.
Andrew Ove Aug 2014
Why, oh why, must we want to die? Oh how a child can see nothing in the sky but clouds of dark foreshadowing something ominous growing in his mind. A brainstorm is brewing, one that is anything but kind. How the world sees this child is anything but "normal," they don't see a human, they see something dull. He only wants freedom for his soul, with a little bit of truth to make him feel whole. One day, this child shall see past all the words of the unkind herds that flock towards him to mock and imitate like mocking birds. He'll realize truth within and set his worries free as he finds hope in his heart and realizes he is more than just me.

-n.g.
Omar Kawash May 2015
In a time,
when men were the superheroes,
born in an unconventional location,

a young girl, unknown to the future
she was destined to,
was born with a uniqueness
unfound in all people, a superpower
of empathy
and as she grew,

the world knew
she was imbued
as a living embodiment of legends:

Athena's wisdom,
beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite,
conversational skills that made Hermes envious,
and strength that Hercules
could never attain.

As she approached an age, when her parents would
trust her to be guardian,
her powers manifested.
This incredible child was now a woman.

With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge
poison that had afflicted a person,
even their hearts,
a God-given gift for those most sacred;
her correspondences exponentially developed,
able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature,
this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity.

Now, fully grown, this super-no-

This Wonder Woman had retired her duties
to save the world, not forsake it, but,
to train Wonder Girl, her daughter,
to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her.

She still looks up at the Higher Power
and realizes her duty to provide
the world justice is not over
but only beginning.

Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged
and was gifted
a bulletproof bracelet,
forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction
of all that is wise and healing.

Given to her to wear
so that nothing could halt her
as she continues
her fate to provide the world a humanity
that could only come from
an intrinsically true
dear heart.
blankpoems Nov 2013
Lungs burning with affliction, no prayer can help you realize that you are on fire.
Help me, open my ribcage and read the encryption that is my heart.
This is where my ideas form; this is where the magic happens.
This is where trees become homes when I turn to prose.
This is where love becomes tangible.
Take the helm from my chest cavity and steer me home.
Sew me back up and pretend you didn’t figure out how my mind works from studying my heartbeat.
You can keep my memories there, keep my stanzas there.
But you cannot lock up an idea.

Do you realize that every single time you open your mouth I’m wishing I could have a lobotomy?
I don’t want my brain to miss you when you leave.
I don’t want my heart to miss you when it realizes that it no longer beats in sync with yours.
You can take yourself away from me.
You can make me cry so the salt water stings my face like it’s a burning map.
You can take my poems from my veins and scatter them in the river.
But you cannot lock up an idea.

Oh Captain my captain, I think we are going down.
But everyone is just an arm’s length from drowning.
When life preservers are anchors and every single thing is whispering for you to sink.
The Bermuda triangle is just another place where sailors go to pray and what kind of god ***** you in and tests you with a tempest?
You and I are so much more than child’s play.
Tell me to stay.
Tell me my ideas do not belong on the ocean floor.
Because you cannot lock up an idea.

If the sun shines through your blinds, think of me.
Think of the morning.
But without all your leaving.
Don’t think of the bags packed, of the plane tickets bought.
Of the ferry setting off its horn for you in the middle of the night.
Think of the morning.
Without all your leaving.
With the coffee, with the metaphors that were leaking through the walls as you blinked.
You wanted to keep them for yourself, hold them hostage in your bones.
But you cannot lock up an idea.

So next time you think of leaving, think of taking the ferry across the ocean.
Next time you think of whispering my secrets into the waves that kiss the rocks like they are not hurting anyone, think of me first.
Without the poems.
Before I even started writing.
Remember how I chased butterflies and the sunset.
How I begged you to let me climb up on the roof to watch the sun rise again.
Remember that my ideas are my prayers to a god I have not yet found in the curve of your spine.
Remember that I want nothing more than to not have to miss you.
Remember that every time you dismiss my words, my art, my need to chase the sunset; you are diminishing my creativity.
Remember that you cannot lock up an idea.
this was for my creative writing class.
PrttyBrd Jan 2014
the feel of fingertips on the skin
the rush of blood surprises
a spark that sets the soul ablaze
the ticking clock stops turning
eruptively raging fires keep burning
forging a path in dewy maze
the melded body realizes
consumption is from within
writing prompt, abcddcba
Interesting to do, but awkward to read.

copyright©PrttyBrd 22/01/2014
PrttyBrd Jul 2010
70 miles per hour
The highway rushes by
Careless open window wind
Caught like a kite
Lifted to the sky
Open, it dances
Twirling and twisting
Swaying in slow motion
It's invisible smile, contagious
As it flies away free
So lovely as it makes it descent
Swirling in the breeze
Slowing as it realizes its fate
At journey's end it lays
Dusty and crumpled
Forgotten and used
Left by the side of the road
Unsightly, scorned
Torn and stabbed
As it journeys on
Lifted again just briefly
As it comes to rest
At the bottom of a bin
Written as in response to a challenge for Poetic Dreamers.  The inanimate falling item I chose to write about is a plastic grocery bag.

copyright©PrttyBrd 012/07/2010
Kelsey Aug 2014
Somewhere there is a nurse putting clean sheets on what was once someone's death bed. Somewhere there is a police officer laying awake at two in the morning contemplating breaking his thumbs so he won't have to pull another trigger. Somewhere there is a body bag taking the shape of a person. Somewhere a warden has accidentally called a prisoner by their first name. Somewhere there is a man getting ready to pay for his glass of whiskey, his '1 year' AA token falls out of his wallet onto the bar counter. Somewhere the glass is completely empty, somewhere it's overflowing. Somewhere a therapist sitting in an empty session reading the local newspaper's obituary section wondering what she could've done. Somewhere a bullet has fallen in love with a heart, giving a whole new meaning to the 'kiss of death'. Somewhere the girl that never speaks is raising her hand but immediately putting it back down after the sound of her classmates' laughter bounces back and forth from the back of her mind to the front. Somewhere the silence at the dinner table is making a dent in a child's suit of armor. Somewhere a 70 year old man starts skipping instead of walking, he stops taking his medication. Somewhere there is a mother too drunk to sign her daughter's permission slip. Somewhere a man has stolen all of the flowers from a grave, so he can somehow feel as though he's  being missed. Somewhere a child is asked what she wants to be when she grows up, she realizes ''myself'' isn't a good enough answer. Somewhere a mirror has been mistaken for a stranger. Somewhere someone is being loved by another person the only way they know how to love; whether it's through kisses, bruises, sleeping too closely to the other, or fifteen missed calls. Somewhere a man is falling in love with the automated voice inside of a voice mail because at least she will listen to him. Somewhere a 911 operator is walking into her house, hearing screams that aren't actually there. Somewhere these short stories are being broadcasted on the news,  printed in the paper, whispered to a friend, or rotting in the back of someone's head. Somewhere I am whispering all of these things to a silent room full of people, none of them look up.

— The End —