mind stands solemnly in the middle,
with logic and emotion on either side
like devoted sentinels guarding a queen.

"don't think about it,"
emotion says, batting her long lashes.
"just do what feels right
and follow your heart."

"but sometimes,"
logic interjects with his sharp eyebrow cocked,
"what feels right will
hurt us in the long run."

"do you want to try, and know, and fail?"
emotion asks with suprisingly honest conviction.
"or do you want to spend the rest of your
life wondering what could have been?"

"would you rather open your heart,"
logic counters thoughtfully and quickly,
"and have a part of it stolen?
or would you rather protect it all?"

as mind wavers in the middle,
she feels herself rip in two.

half of herself stands upright,
stiffly held under logic's watchful eye.
the other half melts into emotion's warm embrace.

her heart aches and she feels sick.
the idea of following logic's advice
would mean to ignore emotion's advice--
and to follow emotion's advice would
mean ignoring the advice of logic.

she looks back and forth pleadingly.
logic's cadaverous stare seems to tell
mind that only logic will solve this problem.
but emotion smiles softly, and her eyes say
that this way, though it may cause pain,
will be the most rewarding.

"neither choice is the right one,"
mind says finally,
with a little bit of logic and
a little bit of emotion.
"but i must choose now, for soon i will
not be able to make a choice at all.

"then whose advice will you follow?"
emotion questions carefully.
"will you open your heart to love?"

"or will you listen to me and protect
yourself from unnecessary pain?"
logic asks, eyebrow cocked again.

"perhaps you are correct, logic,
and i would do well to seal off my
heart and never let anybody in."

at these words, logic smirks knowingly,
but mind continues anyway.

"as for me, i think i would rather
feel true, burning love and have to
live with the scars than to be
lonely, bitter, angry, and old
and die without ever knowing
how to love myself and somebody else."

emotion does not gloat;
she simply nods softly,
encouraging mind to continue.

"after all, is life not a journey of risks?
how could we ever find peace and
contentment without enduring a
few bad decisions and learning from them?"

Left every move uncertain
Eerie malevolent phantom
no proper contact of Touch
There was no Howl nor sound
people said he Existed
Dear voice of Every child -
Afraid of the Dark
railing Broken cough
Uneasy steps
Reeling in as the Young moon draws water
Thin Hands drive scissors
Expression suprisingly warm
mouth Drooling open
Early when the moon was down
Asking, will you take me home?
shooting a Dead mockingbird

i am made of...
thought...
ink and pen and paper... and so much more.
scribbled phrases on diner napkins.
post it notes stuck to walls.
scrawled doggerel in bathroom pens.
phrased ideology in lined notebooks.
spinnered words on lazerprinted A4.
scraps of inklings, on ripped butcher's bags and wrappings.
condolences in funeral books.
ideas capital lettered on cards,
pinned to cork boards.
epitaphs stonemasoned
into granite blocks.
fury arranged just so,
on parchment.
newsprinted with loose blurry, black ink on broadsheets
scribed by pointed stick on
firm wet sand.
notes on heavy cards, of love
and light bright shiny stuff.
discarded sentence startings, left crumpled, lost in a bin.
loss, written with red wine on white table cloth.
art, etched on vellum anciently old, suprisingly relevent.
tapped into tablets both stone
and techview.
blue and red markers squeaked onto white boards.
daubed on canvas with a fine sable brush.
tatttoo-ed upon ones flesh.
carved into wooden school desks.
pressed into moist clay by delicate fingernails.
marked so deeply upon a soul.
chalked to cement,
to stay for...
but a short season.
written for some very, (un)important reason.
courage to speak, sing, whisper, shout, cry, laugh, observe and ponder.
this is me....
i am a word written down.. any word, any word.
i am undeniable, desirable often incomplete
always open  always waiting
for some one...
......just like you ...
to open your heart let me in
to recognize a new start
to have a play, a scribble,
doodle, pen jive. to become
alive.... to thrive,
just begin with a single letter.....then another,
go on be brave...
..........grant me liberty....

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It's Raining but the Rain doesn't make me wet, or at least I don't really care if it gets me wet.
It's cold but the cold doesn't give me shivers, I'm too **** out of mercy to shake out of pitty.
Has anyone ever thought if the rain and the wind perhaps needed some matrimonial consulting?
Maybe I should get a Master's in "Reverse Psychology" and later try a Phd in "Sarcasm Applied to Tradicional Knowledge".
You see,I got a bachelor's in Cinema and TV Production when all I wanted was to write a story about a broken man who loved another human being too much, or perhaps in case of not enough budget, a dog.
Yes... I'm that frustrated if you fancy going around your mind wondering and doing wrong judgments on my personality.
**** I really think the rain and the wind need some matrimonial consulting.
Anyway...
How can you ask sorry to a clown for not laughing?
How can you ask sorry to a wife for not loving?
How can you ask sorry to humanity for waking up after 1pm?
How can you ask sorry to your own body for letting it get all soaked wet?
You would be surprised by the amount of people in the world that don't know how to take a decent coffee and still don't ask sorry for it.
It's not like I'm trying to justify my own bads but these people should definitely ask sorry for theirs.
Alright now, You may be wondering why am I here?
Well, I'm here because I dont have anywhere else to go.
I'm here because I told my now ex girlfriend that 'Im tired of doing everything around home when actually I do nothing at all, so she got all upset and told me to leave,then I told her I wouldnt leave since that was my apartment as well, when actually that was really only her apartment, which she has been paying the rent and bills with the good amount of cash she has been getting from her suprisingly good position at Mills&Albert; Lawyers Company.
She's been ******* the boss anyway...
Well I guess, can't prove it... actually I never thought of it before, just now.
Again not trying to justify anything here.
You know...I've been this kind of guy who spends too much time doing nothing and the rest of the time hiding books that I want, but I shall never read cuz Im too lazy, behind the shelves of the library, so no one can take them away from me.
It's all my fault anyway.
I should have become a doctor of some kind or an engineer or a movie star or a rock start(I knew how to play the bass really fine)but instead I chose to be a loser, and let me tell you that's a pretty hard decision to make... and a brave one as well.
It's like you are sacrificing all your talents in behalf of the world, because the world needs losers to pin down "shame levels" which you shouldn't reach.
Alright Maybe Im just trying to justify something here but anyway... now it's done, now it's too late, isn't it?
Talking about late... I don't think there are buses this late.

I watch from a distance
and cannot believe
how their lies
powerfully decieve
us
into hating each other
killing one another
sometimes I think
why even bother
but I simply had enough

of watching this every day every single time I open the television or a stupid newspaper, so much hatred and stupidity and not suprisingly, no humility.

this is a call
this is a call
to everyone, like you, like me
this is a call
to tear down the wall
smash down the towers
and watch them fall
this is a call

this is
our voice
no uniform
no shows
no act

just a voice,
and one day
just like the israelites destroyed the walls of Jericho
we will destroy them.

she came from a broken home, wasn't to ambitious
and the fact she was loose was surreptitious
she did this to make up for what her childhood lacked
so she picked dudes up and droped them quick like jacks
so it wasn't surprising that after a while
her abdomen became an embryo's domicile
she didn't want it but her parents weren't pro-choice
she might as well have had strep throat, had no vocie
her days were then filled with insults down right explict
all this for just one unsurpervised visit
after nine months of the tribulations of misogyny
it was time to bring forth her progeny
after a few ardous hours she gave birth
to a girl which suprisingly filled her with mirth
she  relized she had something to live for
and she promised to give her
everything she need and to not let anything encumber
her daughter's success as she watched her slumber
she named her rose because she if it took till the world's doom
she would nuture this child untill she finally blooms

Dearest friend (I've yet to meet),

Who was I kidding?
As if I somehow missed the message --
Childish, my reply sent said:

'shoot! I'm sorry - I must have forgot to hit send'

- I'm the loser who let you wonder for a minute if I meant it (but don't give another thought) a moment longer you'll realize.. I'm lying, I'm a liar (spoiler alert)

I hate to break it to you, today, I really couldn't care less  - yesterday you were all I had left, tomorrow maybe fate will finally bless me, find me dead as I felt inside since I can remember and I'll be at peace with knowing I left you alone.... 
I know, I know.....
We talked for hours, I told you who i really was.. that was just a test - when u got back to me I honestly  almost instantly lost all interest. (Caught a catch 22)
Listen closely (or rather, read carefully) you know I said I love you and that is still the truth (for what its worth, you're welcome) but what you may not know is that i resented you for the fact that you said you love me back (believe me it hurts to say the truth) so my reaction may seem a bit unexpected, know I know I left you with less than you deserve - but this was the only gift I could afford.


I'm unavailable & miserable with the mess I've made for me (trauma tethered me to someone I will never take the leap to try to be me with)

Ask around you'll find my reputation is deplorable - I only ever take (and take and take) 
-- kind of like taxes, most people HATE taxes (no matter how necessary they may be)

I was never meant to be so painfully average - i was born of greatness (trust me, my folks were basicly the best) nurtured my mediocrity on purpose to avoid the pressures of the "life" i should have (could have) led - you say it's not too late - 
Satan's screaming 'she's a liar, you're a waste, take her, keep her here with us'
I look to Christ for sage advice -
'You best just keep your distance, shes a lover but she knows not what she says - she speaks from a place you've never really been welcome - and if she knew everything you took from her, remember, she's only human, and..well.. I think you understand..'
He was right, I know - (Lucifer's a ****, despite the fact he's generally always atleast half right)
You're too beautiful - my reflection is hideous..
I resist all kinship, we could have shared because love hurts so much (or so I've witnessed) 
when goodbyes 
(Even those one might call over due) 
Sneak up and bite us, we are the ****** and cursed the worst and best of us survivors - alike (this is a fact, even if they never ever find common ground sturdy enough to build on, it's there - everyone feels pain from loss -- and the amount of pain between mortals is suprisingly more irrelevant than it is relative)
and we will feel loss, all of us (even the unloved and especially the forgotten)
Someone is always left behind,
I would do anything to outlive all my loved ones (and so I sought immortality) - because I know how it feels to lose them (the gifted, the gone-to-soons) and know this, loneliness scares me a hell of a lot less than transfering pain (undoing all the happiness I meant to spread from my plastic bag filled with good intentions) to some poor soul whose silly enough to feel for me even half of what I felt for them.

I regret this profession I was given - every day it gets harder to convince myself that I'm a good guy, just trying to do my job. Someone has to do it and from what I can tell: 
gods plan is just a rough draft, edited frequently and it's up to no one to really understand it, and yet, everything revolves around it. 
.. and I mean everything. 
Including me,
The Reaper (although, I dislike the title because it insinuates I am absolutely the only one like me.
I often fantasize that I am one of many others, 
maybe they're on other planets or different planes who knows..but I can tell you with absolute certainty that I've yet to meet another like me.)

I guess we all have a purpose - is what I'm trying to say.
Anyway, I should run.. I have a million and some odd funerals to attend this week alone. 


Signed sincerely -
Your friend,
Death

P.s. I will wait for you, there's really no rush for us to meet ♡

I was in love I didn't notice there is war outside it's hard for me to focus suprisingly I never knew that love was real i figured out that love it is a battlefield it was your beauty all along I couldn't help it I left you out die I know that it was selfish I will protect you with my sword and grab my shield I never knew that love it was a battlefield see I would take a bullet for you I would die and rest so peacefully just knowing you were mine I'll grab my gun for you you know that i would **** I never knew that love it was a battlefield some men would grab you up and try to keep you hostage you know I'll do my best for you to try and stop them I never knew my love for you it was so real I never knew that love it was a battlefield now i would spend my very last if I were rich to show the enemy our love it does exist I never knew that love it hurts it's so unreal I never knew that love it was a battlefield and I apologize for all the things I said Inever knew the war would come to end this way I earned my stripes I earned my stars out on the field I never knew that love it was a battlefield

Through a golden crack in the universe
Love rains a single drop

It blazes through earths atmosphere
Radiant and pure


Wading through the mundane
i pause a moment

An unseen force holds me still
Wow
What an odd but overwhelming feeling
A comforting spirit seems to fill me
Hmm
I start to trudge on

A drip on the top of my head

Puzzled
Its not raining

I continue on
My step suprisingly light
I feel great

I smile and walk

Wow
I never noticed the smell of the trees before
Feathers sing
Rays dance with puddles

A boy helps an old lady across the street
I smile

Thank you young man
She says
He smiles and catches up to
his friends and books

In someones yard a wagging tale plays with a purr

My shoes seem to float
My heart seems to blaze with hopeful expectance

Just up ahead a beautiful young woman drops her hair clip
Her gold hair clip

Excuse me you...

dropped...

this

I could barely speak she was so beautiful

Thanks
She said

And when she smiled
the world turned gold

Today is my birthday
***** *** real bad
I'm sick
Nobody even noticed
I'm 18 yrs old
Finally made it
Didn't think I would actually
Suprisingly I did
Just have to love my life
Couldn't even express my feelings to the girl I like
Without her pushing me away
But it doesn't matter
I won't be around for much longer
Getting me another job
Moving somewhere quiet
Where only the ocean screams at me

A passion in us,
a drive within individuals.
If nurtured right,
it will lead to a future bright.

Given the times,
we are all born with future;
Even with so,
grieve still live within us all;
with depression hand in hand,
poisoning us whole.

These were supposed to be the times we prosper;
Suprisingly,
many of us falter.

Who is to be blamed for this?
If you're an atheist,
would you blame a
non-existent god for this?

The answer lies within us,
to remain appreciative and kind,
only then would we be calm.

So let's help all in achieving this,
and may our souls rest in peace.

Jungle boots work suprisingly well at keeping feet dry in snow,
but they sure as hell don't keep them warm.

My heart is breaking,
But at the same it's not
I'm so confuse on what's happening
I wish I should've known this would come.

I didn't notice the glances you made
Maybe I was too busy daydreaming to see.
The poems you've created,
Suprisingly were all for me.

It's sad to know we could've had something
But none of us made a move
And it breaks my heart
That I'm the only one who remained in love with you.

The church bells toll twelve
And it's time for me to sleep...but do I?
As soon as I lay my head on my pillow...
My mind sits in the Past express
And moves from one station to the other
Suprisingly... the train travels back...instead of going ahead.
I reach stations that were left behind
Stations...I never wanted to reach.

There's this Pain...that lives beneath my heart
And it eats it up like a termite...every night
I can't define it...I don't know
This sinking feeling is normal
As I lost my peace years ago...
But it meets me secretly on stormy afternoons
And I feel overwhelmed...

But after all this...I still wonder
When will I sleep?
Sleep with dreams in my eyes
And Pain gone away.

Growing up I saw a lot...
I saw pain and misery...
I lost my mind and went insane...
I killed my best friend die...
Watched my grandma pass away...
Saw my friend get hurt...
Saw her...
Fall before me....
I cried and cried...
Cried for hours cried for days...
I was dropped on my head 3 times...
I was born a month early...
When I was told...
When...
She told me...
My brother is going to prison...
I cried and cried...
I make my promise...
Not to lie...
Not to die...
Not to give up...
I hold one person close...
As he is my happiness...
I want to hold her close...
But I can't...
I just cry and cry...
I want her in my life...
But they say no...
They say no...
They say...
I say yes...
She makes me complete...
Makes me whole...
Makes me smile...
Makes me happy...
If only I could hold her close...
I wouldn't cry...
I would smile...
They say I'm not in love..
But they don't know...
I found out some crucial news...
My stepdad...
He is cheating on my mom...
I cried and cried...
I hate him I really do...
I don't understand why....
He is bad...
Blames me for things that I don't do...
He turns my own mom against me...
He hurts me...
He...
There is a line you draw...
When your done...
I drew that line today...
Im not dealing with it...
He can leave...
I don't care...
Get out of my life...
Ruin someone else's life...
Just don't ruin ours...
Now you see I love my mom...
I don't want to see her hurt...
And when she is I cry...
Like last night...
I cried and I cried...
It was all because of him...
I give up...
Im letting go of the rope...
Im falling...
Lower...
And lower...
Deeper and deeper...
Into a void...
Where I can't escape...
It droves me to tears...
It makes me cry...
I'm okay...
I lie...
I just cry...
Cry...
Cry...
Age 17...
Dating a girl...
Love her so...
Dad...
Mom...
Find out...
Dad...
Pins me down...
I can't breath...
All I see...
Is my life...
Early childhood...
Age of 2...
Rock hits me in the head...
Suprisingly not...
Dead...
Age 3 fall bust my face...
Still in pain...
Age 4...
Starting school...
Rivalary for a girl...
Another Zachary...
One girl...
Two Zachs...
Yea I lost...
I smiled...
Age 5...
Got hit in the head...
It bled...
And bled...
Age 6 through 7...
...got hit in the head again...
Lost my memory...
Age 8 through 12...
I lost my childhood...
Worked in a restraunt...
Age 13 through 16...
I...don't wanna talk about that...
Age 17..
Went through depression..
Hit rock bottom...
Felt it all...
Hit a wall...
Died a bit...
Cut my wrist...
Almost died...
Met a girl...
Made me smile...
A lot...
A lot...
Made me smile A lot...
Took the pain...
Now its gone...
Made me whole...
Made me feel compete...
Feel in love...
Again and again...
Now...
We are one...
Im complete...
Happy forever...
In love...
Met my...
Other half...

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
yesterday
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
the great blue canvas of summer
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
hung above our simple heaven
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ and its suprisingly
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀beautiful
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ and mysterious how only now
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀   ⠀⠀ do we see the brush strokes
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
t
⠀⠀⠀a⠀⠀⠀k
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ i
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ g⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ f
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀or
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀­⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀m
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

My worlds in color now.
When the nature around me provides a how.
The hue of color from the nile valley.
The origins source when she smiles soundly.
And the visible energy is proven manly. Masculine.
And yet for some odd reason she's still laughing.
Sins are given, within some increased reason.
Men of faith are pleading.
Running away screaming.
A presence of evil becomes all seeing.
Why. Why.
Are the repeated cries.
And suprisingly the answers are upon her thighs.
The abuse she got when he was high.
Scars to satisfy.
And the sad thing is she asked for replies.
And theres no response until she dies.
Why. Why.
Again are the cries.
Reporters ask how this could've been prevented.
The hate she slept with.
The abuse she continously had to get. And the cycle of violence is to the next stage of revenge.
Because she had a brother who can't sleep again.
Her brother doesn't care about the sins.
Because the love that was given is never forgotten.
And within the act that was declared rotten.
Achieves a series of consequences until he caught him.
A battle of purposed agression and impulsive deflection.
And after the blood is covering the cotton.
He's still alive but his screams are forgotten.
And after every bloodied hit he knows the gods are watching.
But what he does not know is that there applauding.
Because her life was peace plotting.
A angelic being lost yet again.
But the necessary evil is progressing into a saving kin.
Aware of the forces of abrupt and decisive evil.
Souls gone from these people.
An inability to feel.
Fires burnt from the trees.                                                                                
An empty evil no longer sees.
And while separating  evil from the ability to breathe.
This so called ***** savior.
Cannot be there forever due to his behavior.
But this evil is worth mourning.
Because this is the reason the sun is soaring and helpless beings are roaring.
Good came from the both of this pair.                                            
And it is only fair.
For him to be united to her and his heart is finally open to share.

There they were, the suprisingly shiny brown glasses.
Small and cute, they accurately represented their master!
I gaze at them as the time passes...
Had there been a "specs-election", I would've been their first vote-caster!!

Zebra stripes but brown and white were they coloured
Smooth and silky was their texture
On the surroundings, my vision was blurred
On the clear shades of the glasses was it only concerned.

I kept admiring their beauty from my heart;
With their unseen ears, my inaudible voice could be heard.
They seemed to look lovingly at me
And I was assured "Still there's water in the kind sea".

I meet Grace outside Brixton station
Her eyes roll upwards when she speaks of Jesus.
She is pushing the pamphlets of the Lord.
Sword raised and on a mission.
I think I know how this will go.

But does the cleaning up of SE9
The tidy line of once sprawling back street garages,
The neatening of shuttered-down shops
which exhale reggae and ***** and
The popping up of suprisingly good architecture,
Signal a shift in the redemption business?

Grace asks me if I've ever felt envy
I say Yes Grace regularly
She says God will forgive you.
I say I have already forgiven me.

We struggle to win the same ground for a while,
Battle over paths to peace
Go round and round
Up, over and underneath, what she thinks, what I think.
Until with sinking heart and flailing energy.
I move through wild eyed bag ladies
To another piece of street.

She got under my skin did Grace.
Reminds me how stone-carved my faith can be.
Creating certainty, even from mystery.
Perhaps we sin in the same church,
We probably shop in the same covered market.

i dont wanna be the next nothing
i just wanna be the best me
i dont wanna be the one to overdose from a nose bleed
for the whole world to see
i dont wanna fake myself to gain the wealth
i dont wanna be the one loves to hate
i dont wanna be another person who
incarcerate the hearts away no
i just wanna be the best that i can be
not violently
suprisingly
everything
inside of me
is fighting me
not to change
the ways that guided to me
but life goes on we gotta carry on
change whats mine and see a change in mind
the light gets bright to light away the night and find the right line to survive the grind
inside youll find yourself and more yeah
inside youll fight yourself for more yeah
but you gotta be strong and hold on
dont let it take control,  itll show yea
find yourself before its gets to late to guid yourself
remind yourself , you define yourself
actions speak louder than the mind itself
-
i dont wanna be the next nothing
i just wanna be the best me
i dont wanna be the one to overdose from a nose bleed
for the whole world to see
i dont wanna fake myself to gain the wealth
i dont wanna be the one loves to hate
i dont wanna be another prrson who
incarcerate the hearts away no
-
i just wanna be me
i just wanna be me
i dont wanna be the one that incarcerates the heart away
i just wanna be me

Let us talk
Not to critique
But to express a sudden love
An unexpected friendship
And a connection that suprisingly blossomed

i've come across this topic sort of to a point of bother
to have to either write about it or yawn...
dating?
             oh sure, i once had a date...
i picked up this African girl at a bus-stop...
i lied to her about going to a friend's house
to smoke some marijuana...
she was so eager to come with me: she did come...
at the bus stop where we were supposed
to get off i finally told her the truth...
listen... i'm not actually going to visit a friend
to smoke some marijuana...
i'm... going to the brothel...
so she retorted: so why did you lie?!
erm... you're a woman... and i've just told you:
i'm going to a, brothel...
i was trying to consider how you might feel about that...
i partially walked her home,
met a high-school friend down the street...
hey! Richard! turns out it wasn't Richard...
rather Daniel...
do girls really get on buses at night
with guys who are going to the brothel, these days?!
they must do...
she started blah-blahing about having
a saxophone player boyfriend... well: i'm not going
to sleep with you, am i, i just told you
that i have a girlfriend at the brothel...
that's the thing with women...
you never really know whether you're going to
get ***** with them for a hard-on...
it's so much easier with prostitutes... since?
there's no middle-man no cars'-salesman invoked...
no middle-ground *******...
you're there for ****-it... you're not there to stage this
western culture... what is it?
dating culture? you go for a meal
then expect to ****?! i tend to work on an empty stomach...
i tend to **** slightly drunk...
what gave these people the idea that ******* was
the best end result after eating a meal and having
a dull conversation about work?!
will these same people talk about art?
movies? music? poetry? biology? chemistry?
no... same **** but a different cover...
o.k., o.k. yawn... today i found myself
taking a break from doing the household chores
while fiddling with a guitar...
Cream's Sunshine of Your Love...
yeah... itchy fingers... Deep Purple's Black Night...
Black Sabbath's Solitude... and Black Sabbath's
Black Sabbath... perched on the windowsill...
i don't think i have ever dated...
well... this one speed-dating event at university
that i thought of more as a joke than anything
since... oh my my... those girls were:
WILD eyed...
        but this random black girl i picked up
at a bus-stop... she was already spinning a false
narrative in her head...
first i lied about going to visit a friend to smoke
some marijuana... i gave up that **** a long time ago...
then i told her: this is where the brothel is...
you're o.k. heading home on your own?
no! because if i go home with you i might be accused
of not being able to get a hard-on!
that's not my ******* fault!
    if i drink too much and the ******* is playing coy
with pony-tails... yeah... i'm a bit...
well **** me... you're not 15, are you?
but most of the time?! MAJOR MAJOR!
i paid, haven't i... sure, sometimes it might happen
that i have ******* but don't have time to
*******... oh my god... that's when they're really ****-hurt...
or when you authentically make them ******...
double the ******* ****-hurt...

i don't think i could ever have *** "authentically":
with the sort of intimacy that lies outside the realm
of having read Marquis de Sade...
not so much bargaining with sadism per se...
but... i don't trust women and their tales of ******...
i can withhold mine, *******, yes, but make it vocal?
no... like a gorilla... mute button on...

dating... what a ****** concept...
what about that song from Fiddler on the Roof...
matchmaker matchmaker...
i'd sooner be found hanging on a tree
than be found in (1) gym...
or (2) on a date...
     you'll sooner find me in a brothel...
to **** with dating...

i mean: every time i open a bottle of bourbon...
the scent of it... almost sickly sweet...
i roll my eyes back so only the sclera is visible
and i think...
i was there... i was so unusually born into
this partake of life...

                and as much as i love cooking...
dealing with raw, uncooked items... vegetables...
but esp. the meats with bones intact...
rubbing my fingertips on bricks prior to entering
the flesh-market... then fiddling with the naked bodies
in dimmed lights...
i always need to rough-up my fingertips
before touching as soft as a woman's body...
crucial... the dimming of the lights...
the body is doubly-exemplified, doubly-contorting!

i only write about *** because i remember that:
i'm not getting enough of it...
in England i'm living either among ******* nuns,
single mothers, or groomed teenage girls by
Pakistani gangs!     well... yeah... sure... great prospect
for dating! let me just check my calendar
for availability!                    *******!

i'd rather go to a brothel than go on a date...
i ought to be expected to pay of the date, right?
for the meal?
what are the chances of getting *** by the end of it?
zero? 1%?
but if i go to the brothel among Romanian
or Turkic women... what am i going to eat?
erm... ****... what are the chances of not getting
properly mind-numbed-******...
0%... i even stop being nostalgic about
1960s music... those baby boomers can
pass into the void... i'll allow them an easy pass...
if they're not terribly bothersome...

dating... what a 20th century "thing"...
why would i date?
i just had a date, with a black girl...
who took the bus with me from Romford Market
all the way to Goodmayes Station...
   in the night... why do i come across as this
trustworthy?
come to think of it... i might find some spare
time to abuse that... if i'll feel suprisingly bored...
after all: warfare tacticians all it: collateral...
no? i just might... feel somewhat numbed by life,
bored... some collateral might just be ushered out...

weird, though, no? i i thought it was rather weird...
considering i had the killing instinct...
why? i became bored of thinking about...
how... how?! 3D chess?! o.k. i can understand
expanding a su-doku grid... what the **** are you
on about?! talking about 3D chess?!
oh... ****** chess?! sophist chess?!
that sort of chess?! o.k. fair enough...
San Francisco central *******...
            ergo? well you're up! hey guv!

i don't do young easily heart-broken men either...
who... hmm... write for... grandmas?!
of course i'm *******... the times i dated
i couldn't get a hard... but the times i visited
a brothel... hey presto! no problem!
something's wrong with your women...
unless of course they're getting ***** by Pakistanis
and are underage...
how's that?! thank you... for being deported as
"illegal" circa 1997!

sorry, what?! i'm hard of hearing...
i first need to flirt with the sounds of ****** agony before
i leave: if even i leave: a reply...
i don't care for English women... i prefer Romanian /
Turkish girls... NO YOU SILLY ****!
how does a girl get handled by Pakistani
grooming gangs: you ******* ****?!

i'm not dealing with that ****...
because i owe you... what?!
           ha ha...      if the Pakistanis can **** your girls...
and you easily accept that circumstance...
accept this... *******.

We formed forces impatiently,
the sharp hiss and sting of pain,
you asked, "Are you ok?" quietly,
I nodded my head in vain.

The lights were on and we were bare,
Our nakedness something new,
Your skin suprisingly soft and fair,
A whisper of history between me and you.

We lost ourselves unsuccessfully,
Thougths too loud in your head,
Afterwards we lay together quietly,
mumbeld words passed along the bed.

The next morning we had breakfast,
Talking over what we'd done,
Smiling at eachother nervously,
Agreed it was just some fun.

But your thoughts they kept on nagging you,
messages of twenty or more,
your denied conquest like a blade threw,
as your feelings sank into the floor.

I'm here to amend the memory,
the weight of your body against mine,
But I can't make myself touch you anymore,
and this feeling is no longer fine.

I'm sorry you think I used you,
You mean so much more you see,
You're the person in my life who,
Sank into sensation with me.

One of the first things they teach you in a first aid course is how exhausting it is to give CPR. They encourage trading off with someone else and taking turns. You can only spend so much time trying to revive something before your body gives out from the exhaustion. I'm suprisingly good at CPR. I can give chest compressions much longer than average. But I'm still a human. I know I will run out of stamina eventually. I've been giving CPR to something for what feels like over a year now. I'm pretty sure it's dead and yet I've tried to remain hopeful. I feel my hope dwindling though. I know it's almost run out. The corpse is literally rotting while I desperately try to bring back it's heartbeat. I have no one to trade off with. No one willing anyway. I'm expected to do it by myself. I don't know how much longer I can do this. Watching something waste away past the point of recovery while I'm expected to keep it alive by myself. I can't help but feel that maybe if I wasn't the only one trying it could be saved. Maybe if someone else gave some effort it's heart would start again. I'm tired. I'm mourning. I'm not sure how much longer I can go before I give up. All I want is someone to share the load. To try to meet me in the middle. Someone to show me that I'm not the only one who cares about the deceased. Maybe if I had some help it's heart could start again. Maybe it doesn't have to die. All I know is that if I'm the only one willing to try eventually it will. I can't save it alone.