Focusing a lot of my energy on a new venture, not that writing is not as important, I just want to see what happens with the current happenings.  Writing shall continue, though as per usual, the frequency of pieces will be varied. Growth and change, life is about nothing but.


Bedtime catharsis…

Turmoil is a yearly occurrence, different players, same pattern follows.  I must needs examine myself and find out what it is that draws people in yet makes them discard me near an instant later.  I just wrote a poem examining this phenomenon… multiple poems the past few days.  I am not going to wait to be blindsided again, I recognize the issue and I am/have been learning to trust my instinct.  It almost always proves accurate.  Wrote a long hand letter earlier.  I am worried, very much so.  She is changing her life to suit some PUA’s schedule, never mind the new business venture in the works… have to please the man.  “Oh, but the business will be there the next day”… as will his manipulative ass… phone calls do wonders.  But he got his prize, drunk and feeling frisky.  Alcoholic trysts are nothing to base anything on.  “But… but… but… I don’t know a god damned thing, I will pretend that I do and it will make everything okay” folly… ignorant folly.  I can only be the voice of reason for so long… fuck it, she is one of my best friends but I cannot care.


Faulty Notions

Magical droppings, feelings fading to black

Ever present love, though something much more

An unequal yoke? Why pick up the threads of another’s

Tattered life, they are just throwing it to the wolves

Soon after?  Repetitive anarchy, emotional chaos,

The rim of the crater glows hot.  This time awareness,

Jumped not into mess, protected self… to their own

Devices, they are left. No more hand to beg for comfort,

To use as emotional pillow, discarding once sadness

Is abated.  Sadness lurks very near, happiness is a practice;

A way of life, not something to just dip in to feel good and

Then rush back into shit.  You are not prepared!


Convoluted Clarity

Friend to anyone, gives moments to a few, taken for fool hardy joke

What is the meaning of life to those who strip everything of meaning?

The joy in living is living in joy, Joy is making soap, she does not know

he sees her there. Carries on, stir the oil, hydrate the lye.

Burning eyes and melting skin, protect the vital organs.

Destruction’s wake at every turn, awareness saves the masses.

Few in love, spreading truth, must not get lost in lusty ego.

Wanton desires, “I’ll just live!”, destruction of the being.

Throwing bits and pieces like a blind man throwing darts.

Tattered and waving is the end of slattern’s dance,

A soul ripped to pieces for the sake of the so called life.

Waving and waving is the arm-less stranger.

Known for not being known, “Who is this guy, really?!?”

Mystery abounding… one to unlock the secret.

Le sigh

What do you do when the woman you have loved for years reaches out to you and asks for your help?   You calmly and stoically offer that hope, no expectations, no conditions… you give her time to heal.  What if less than a month later, some random guy, who she would never know, if not for you, hits her up and starts talking to her?  Forget the guy who loves her and has been there for her, was letting her re-learn who she is; the guy she ran to in her most dire moment.  She doesn’t want to need him, any feeling she had for him is somehow transferred to this, shadier new guy… this better version of the guy who was there for her.  Love. The good guy not taking advantage of a vulnerable woman… dude says “Damn, you’re cute!”  She is stuck…Friendzoned and passed over for the unknown, the question mark.  Love.  Fuck it.  It hurts.



Actions dripping with an unknown love, this is not how it is

Supposed to be!  Love moves through and gives not a damn

About human wants and expectations. Unthought known,

Ignored for thinking’s pleasure, unconscious folly.  


Be Love

Tonight is the night, the only night there is.

Presence and present(ness) are very similar ideals

Lost in nostalgia, past dwellers, depressed and

Floundering in this ocean of life. Future

Offers hope at the start, though, turns to anxiety’s

Mistress if linger for too long. The here and now

Deserves your everything. A mind to the immediate

Future is all that needs be spared. Focus, intensity,

Passion… these are the flavors of the present,

The drug sought by most. Reaching for drama’s end,

The synthetic ‘life”, a faux passion, a farce. Whores

For attention, drama kings and queens, lost

In an addiction’s wake.  Strife, the drug of choice.

A better way, the better way takes but a turn

Of thought, away from self, away from ego want

And hate. Love is the answer, love with no conditions,

No time line or petitions.  Love, love, love, love, love.

Love had by all.