I once conversed with a woman so difficultly soulful, that even
Her breath smelled like incense. (The kind that monks use to honor
Their deceased gods, calling them back in endless
Effects and seamless attempts.)
That, too, is how she mourned at her dorm room, all alone,
With nothing but fog for company, some times the moon-glow,
Nothing but sorrow to share, and sorrow to impart.
When she sings, she puts all the world's divides to rest.
All the frostbites burning her insides calm by simple
Clawing at the audience. Closes her tunes into the restless,
Subjugates with a kind of devilish ...Read more
Glory be to the gods at their highest– I am most high when on top of you.
I have doubts, too– millions of them, more than I can count in three lifetimes. I couldn't.
Struggled 'gainst the wall and the paintings hung– they seem to bleach the world with their visage.
Lurk the iron where works combust and, battleships, they
Sailed right throughout– quite quietly magnifico, taking breaths 'n talkative fuss.
I wish I were as expensive as these scrapped works of our auteurs,
Even dolls, they are auctioned at higher rates,
Even memoirs, even vass– even decorative plates.
Do we all e ...Read more
a reply to Kei's 6 A.M. Dusk, which you can read via this link. Yes, #Keithan, rise. RIIIISE. 🙌🏾
but you feel like a headache.
Jesus Christ! Ease down on them seasonal metaphors, man!
You put me down like I'm some sort of forecast, but I am swollen, legged, encased and embalmed,
feet concrete and metric of spades.
We're all just semi-adults trying to fucking function
but I can't stop thinking about you and I don't know what to do with it.
I imagine your days more eventful than they actually are, while I
I danced with the dragons, and mighty we ...Read more
The everards and statuettes are shorter and the blackness bright
Being this cozy made me think everything in the worlds again was right, even sight
As I whine on wine by the hot tub, the anatomy of flight
Ne'r been confident in relationships, sure, am just fearing what you'll find
Tell the beach all the sorrows, tell the beach all your kind
–Ness and nest next by the terrace with printed shorts and shirts on the fly
The dust settles 'yond the crevice, pref'rring chairs and tuxes dry
As lavenders filth the room like gas'line, moss and kite ignite
As I I beg to be wrong, as I beg in th ...Read more
Talking is futile 'cause talking is cornering.
We reward petty behaviors with claps, showy 'nd steady.
We like the good things but we like the bads as well.
Act as rebels, as modern day bohemians, and dandyists on Wednesdays.
We make our own caricatures because now we know ourselves and how can we not?
Stress-obsessed on the plink tobaccuzzi, and it bubbles at the hoops of our trunks.
If only we could love ourselves like we love our talkie box and our voyeur veneers.
Loving ourselves is cool but hating ourselves is cool, too. It's normal now.
Because we are all aware about it, yes?
Lo ...Read more
He's mature for my age,
With intensity he can dial up
And back on a whim.
The ease you can smell
A thinking doily by
He never overextends his
Smiles to seconds, he
Could waste into darkness.
Dankness, glum, like goth-like, moth-like, om-like
Spitting at the toilet lights and caught
Up with the world I don't want
To have to carry the name of a family
That hovered 'bove me like citadel of self-appointed
Characteristically uncaring gods, I'd rather
Pour molters onto scabs insidious, I'm serious
I want a life lived inconsequential.
I want one less reminder of fa ...Read more
In middle school, we learned of
We hung around, fragile as we are
Ate our lunches loud and
Often we heard the blow
Off the chalk dust right back into chalkboards
As we deemed ourselves giants
In the making, the O'-so sillies
I hardly thought about the times when I couldn't fall asleep as a youngling
For as an adult, things weren't very
We lumbered into foursomes, into tiny groups, into
Did we do our parents justice by becoming what we are now? I wonder
And during the high days of the water,
And during the cold caress of the Fe ...Read more
Is it weird how every color
Bounces off your face
And it's perfect
Are we not yet tired of campaigns campaigning, telling
Beauty equals lighter
They have no
Soul to burn
I will not let
The body inherited become
The statement and mockery of another
It is as mine as yours is yours
It is for me to love as much as you love yours
It is with passion and pride I carry it as passionate and as pround as you catwalk with yours
Brown is the skin of my mother
Brown is the skin of my father
Brown is the skin of their home town
They are quite proud of that
Brown is the skin ...Read more
Your identity is not
We roam today in hallways emptier but tomorrow
Will have to take another
To keep us all in check – O', the sad cylindrical
Life we choose
Your identity is not
Their recurring joke; nor faithless, faceless punch line
It is laid out in front of Comfort and Vigilance
Anonimity and Autonomy, both your maidens
It is not for shrills in the dark
To take into the public's fight if you do not want it there
Yes, the claw of Nyx and all her lovers, they bide in time
But they, and we, and you, and I, are not collateral damage
We are not the aftereffects of ro ...Read more
If you ask me to draw a more tragic
figure, I would draw
because Kei knew how to torch the desert
Kei knew how to level a forest
Kei knew how to unearth every old tree in the Socotra
and hunt the wildest witches of the east, west, north, and south
he was a wolf with a wolf hunter's face
a hyena, a hummingbird, a masked crow
and he lived alone in this big
mansion, big as his heart can be
but just as
empty… I guess
I wanted to fill it up
with decoratives that would
just clash with the white
curtains, and curtains, and curtains
just because I could
I repeatedly stum ...Read more
Anarchy of the mind.
I wrote some welcome-to-my-blog remarks, which you can read here.