The idea is to oppose your masters, not because of the idea of being an opposition alone, but because of knowing what could be bettered.
Floating with the common asterisks, risking the future by ignoring those who dove into avant-pop and the grin and gripe. The murder descended upon her holy lid. Their beaks as dirty as the ground above… Ten granular years to turn myself into something that appeases a palette. Bodied and doling, painfully unrevisitable… Come! Come, and coddle your heroes! In the place that knows no drought, we'd have to swim rising!
But yes, come to think of it ...Read more
I. Mimic Satisfaction
I had promised myself never to dine with transcendentalists even if they are the one meal which is accurate for the day. They have served me a salad, a degree of debris… They have courted me, with heart-aches; condemned me to the stables; sent me to the black prison; tried to bring down the obelisk black. They have killed me. They will kill me… I promise you, she will kill me!
"…And in one whole year, she will leave you with nothing. She is the sun, and the sun cares for nothing less than belaboured brightness of the others surrounding her. And so you may know tha ...Read more
Hot is my tongue by the summer, and so are the shoulders of my lover.
(Soulful, he is to me– the man not naked as the sun.
Lo! See, thee interrupts the arcane. Magic Man!)
I remember meeting his never-lonely fire when the world was a blur,
And stayed, he did, until the dirt made sense. (Finally, finally, somebody flaming enough to stay!)
I am, then, parched. Patched, I ask– Is there something around other than the mayhem?
Ain't the liking grand when, with the heart, it's always escalating?
My pastel-loving baby, pink, hatches me just by the way he smiles from the grotto.
I pray for ...Read more
Gospel of Tempers 2:1 – The Satelliting Thoughts of January 6, 2019
The bad edits of me are the ones that are sticking.
My students, my bees, please think and never blindly romanticize.
I need my students and my bees to be happy. I need you all
To be not like me. Eventually, eventually
We're all to discover that even the undiscovered flower doesn't need the validations.
Even the wildest of us doesn't need the copouts and pascals and parabolas;
And flicks and films and drugs; and occassionalities and alkanes and prelights;
And the suffering. O', the suffering is an endless thing, it s ...Read more
Anarchy of the mind.
I wrote some welcome-to-my-blog remarks, which you can read here.