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learning a lesson
was never a right of passage,
or triumphant cry at
possession of the message
but the slow dawn
of a rising impression,
the scars traced,
upon reflection,
the quiet surrender
of personal confession,
the stubborn will's
final concession,
through a forced march
in the only direction.

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Some lessons in life
would be simple to grasp,
but for the pursuit
of seeking answers,
to questions never asked

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sunbursts in play
when clouds slowly skate
wind whipped world
sparkling, cold and grey

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mush chest
depressed
heart squeezed blue
weak
in the knees
and folded
inward
seeking only you

Well, I guess I could just masturbate..

There are pointed few moments, that when so inspired, I feel it necessary to seize upon them immediately. One of which is from that twinge of genuine excitement, sparkling right beneath my heart, that I get from the inevitability of certain activities. When I'm really ready to go. Right now, I am referring to drawing, of course. Wrist feels good: supple and fluid. Overflow of anticipation is beginning to color some of the energy, but that's okay. Moving on. Ooo.. I don't know what I'm going to draw, but there is no doubt, I will ply my tool and imagination with singular motivation. I like eyes, maybe I'll sketch some of those. YEAH, alien ones, on stalks with multiple pupils.. Plenty of paper. And my trusty ol'..?..! Where are the pencils?

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i feel like a ghoul at a museum,
prancing in the heart of another,
nodding,
a fool,
at pain and grief
dancing to the art, diseased
and though it looks as if
i'm sampling the cries,
making light
of every bite,
it's not consumption that
drives me.
but empathy.

that while i speak my mind, sincerely
my words are accounted
as merriment
and context is distorted
with no gesture to give,
from my plain font representatives.
i'm only trying to heal
with perspective and
how my experience informs it.
and failing, like a flailing
imp with a band-aid.

i view this honesty
as necessity.
and i honestly want
to know what possesses me
to so casually invest energy
in futile feelings.

so at night when i'm
done nibbling,
all the new the day gave
i'm reminded of
how i do dance
away tightly
from the responsibility
of what i say
when i gloss over
contentedly
pretending they're
me.
how i do lose sight
of my own intention
and the reasons for my attentions.
and how i'm thankful
my results
are flayed by obnoxious
thought replaying.

i look back morbidly
and wonder from what angle
should i view me.
if what i see remaining,
groped in the gallery
is really a reflection
of my sense of things,
or the careless
infatuations of
a passing fiend.

sell-outs and shut-ins

tourists in their own lives, with their heads down in phones, slowly walking around with dubious direction, everything is a surprise, because the world tends to change when you refuse to look up, and follow your strides. calling home while ordering a meal. oh this burrito, it's going to be amazing! i can't wait to eat it, and feel exhausted, and laugh about it until my gut consumes my navel. worthy of a hero. did you see the cats on the internet? they know how to live. did you hear about the lady at the mall? yeah she deserved it. she deseeerved it. what was she thinking? tilt in the space created for your impulse. an egg in a carton. bask in the radiance of the luxurious hamburger. oh the options. oh the power. second rate temptations, for bottom feeding waking-dreamers. eye feeders. lurid cake stalkers. convenience creepers. nice haircut. i like your shirt. and that tattoo. yeah the dog gently caressing the breasts of the chicken. amazing. duuude. well, y'know i love my father. hunching into the flickering glow, laugh when you're taught. from the time you were born. cue. boxed stories compelling vacuous stares sucking down the unwinding yarn; black holes consuming stars. got to get home. got to get home. tilting back in the seat of your car, screaming your lack of love to a song. she was the one, she was the one for you. and almost hit a bum. lights, dilate, reaction. almost hit a big foot. these don't really exist. pardon you while you burst into flames? pardon me while i drift away. while i feather on the wind, mere dust in your naked eye. a figment in the periphery and regarded no more. a living ghost. the unknown tale. a wandering ignorance. a black mark leaning on your white walls. the golden age of regret. oh i would trade my left testicle for a banana sundae, right now. well i would give up my child for more of the simple things in life. i redeemed myself by running someone off the road on sunday. did you see the sticker? i heard that author everyone likes is going to write a book everyone will read. oh sweet validation. i did that too. i went running, for my health. i ran in a box. i ran to you. mauled by a bear, kidnapped with a black eye. all in a dream. where the wolf told me he'll use your doubts against you. all in a dream, of course. the beeping and ringing, replaces courtesies, and will consign them to communicate. stop. no go ahead. bzzzrt. danger will robinson. giggling with phantom inclusion. window worker. all is wanted. culture in a dryer tumble. it comes out a little more faded after the wash. and still worn. i don't recognize the stitching. but it still conforms to my body, and it's guaranteed to offend.