Slam Poet Dog Days.

Slam Poet Dog Days.

Kinda cackling -As I post poems from my poetry book,To my website. ARCHIVE Before the ten year gap,My style was completely different -Reeking of my Slam Poet Dog Days. YOUTH Perhaps it's good to be amused,At how different two people,Two selves, CAN BE Can Be. CAN BE

Lax Tempos.

Lax Tempos.

Never Forget.Finish your fights.Lax tempos,Ruin chances of reform.Goal is bloodless revolution -To free the masses from wage slavery.Is it any wonder why Oligarchies,Gerontocracies,Or the like,Fight us so hard in return?Control.Social Contract?Well & truly shattered like broken glass.

Junk Yard Dog Blues.

Junk Yard Dog Blues.

Just hurt for him.A Saint.Bending over backwards -Trying to give people opportunities,Preaching for the benefit of the doubt.Many times;They rake him,Hurt him.Stabbing their would-be saviour,In the heart,Or back.Even closest kin.Junk Yard Dog Blues.Needing to protect him,At all costs.

For The Hungry Flames They Are.

For The Hungry Flames They Are.

Drugs.Alcohol.I've seen most addictions,For the hungry flames they are.Hyperaware of how much I myself vape,Yet refusing to allow the fire,To spread out of control.Vice is sometimes an unquenchable need,& other times a choice,Or series of choices.Despise the constant lying,Most of all.

Orbital Views For Decades.

Orbital Views For Decades.

Fear?No.Rarely.Trauma plus anxiety disorder -Put stop to that.Orbital views,For decades.Gun to my forehead?I'd gesture to pull the trigger.My fight or flight response is broken;To the point I try to numb it out.Self preservation?What's that?Perhaps that's why we wanna martyr ourselves.

Nightmares In Staccato.

Nightmares In Staccato.

Dreaming people who hurt me.No matter how much control -Or lucidity -I master.Nightmares in staccato,Changing out of nowhere.Twisted churning of my mind.I never hurt them.No matter how hot my anger.Even when my rage is truly raging.Shackling myself even then,From gifting them oblivion.

Kind Of My Thing.

Kind Of My Thing.

Fight?I'll always fight.Told you many times:I'll always go down swinging.Be it street scrap,Or climate apocalypse.Fighting Entropy is kind of my thing,When I realized the impossibility of immortality.We don't get a chance to learn & grow;Forever.So best we can do,Is ensure it for them.

“The day is yours.”

“The day is yours.”

Aye,Dead Man.Sun Ablaze In Glory.No Summer Day Finer.Asexuals Like Me Laughing At Comparing Women,To Weather.Masses convinced it was romance -I see the misogyny of another metaphor.Was that the intent?Of the infinite metaphors -You choose sunshine?Changing contexts?Stay dead;Bard.

Dew Point Destinies.

Dew Point Destinies.

Dew Point Destinies.Planet so hot with greenhouse gas,Venus is havin' a look.After that point,When Humidity hits a hundred?You're fucked.Death Spell for Endotherms.Modified Mammary Glands?Exuding sweat,Doesn't work anymore.Air -So heavy with water,Means water can't evaporate.Ugly Death.

Mass Dictates Gravity.

Mass Dictates Gravity.

Never speak to me;As if in ignorance.Blind to decades of fortitude.Every step I take?Puts Atlas to shame.Makes Sisyphus look feeble.Not just the weights,Of boulders or planets.Multiple Black Holes.Pressure.infinite amounts of a thing,Within a finite space.Mass Dictates Gravity.Tragedy:

Just To Be.

Just To Be.

Hawk -Like Icarus.Flying too high.Too close to the sun.Feathers aflame.Hollow bones be damned!You have talons!Sharper beak than most.Own worst enemy.Pride.Ego.An endless need to prove yourself.Your worth,To others.You never had to -In the first place.Didn't need to brag.Just to be.

Kamikaze.

Kamikaze.

Kamikaze mentality.Deadly in intention.Fighting nothing but losing wars.Know the lure of oblivion -It's strong.Martyr complexes ablaze.Losing touch.Losing time.Losing everything.Dragging you beneath the current.Some rivers are too dangerous to swim.You should already know that.

A Final Word.

A Final Word.

Wherever you go,Wherever you are,Find solace in self,Seek peace as you are,Peel back the layers,Of emotion and depth,Keep even kilter,Keep slow steady breaths,Pull back the seams,Seek self, inside,Hunger for knowledge,No thoughts left to hide,You are wholly imperfect,Broken as hell,So seek...

Lazy.

Lazy.

Today is but a single day.There will be others.Beautiful glorious days consumed by passion, joy, and light.Days will then surge into years.But today?I am stuffed with delicious omelette.So nothing much will happen.

Condition.

Condition.

What has no conditions but one condition? What brings hope in the darkest hour, when nothing seems to go right, and nothing is worth doing, and nothing is worth living for? What makes everything better when you’re missing your limbs, there’s a cataract in your eye, and you don’t know how to speak,...

Go, Go, Go.

Go, Go, Go.

Go, go, go.Stay, stay, stay.Freedom is but fleeting,I want to go away,Waiting for a signal,Waiting for a sign,To find some sense of freedom,To get back what is mine.

Dreamland.

Dreamland.

A dozen roses, with daggers posed as stems,A half-hundred thousand eyeballs, sleeping REM,A silver-tongued promise, a tale as old as time,Tear your soul a new one, a reflection in a dime, Hunger like a graveyard, silence like a sin,Ghosting ever-after, don’t do things on whim,Coupled once with...

Cackle For A Madman.

Cackle For A Madman.

Cackle for a madman,Perchance a rainbow at the wake,Who bet all in on a pair of Kings,And both kings died. Dredge up the links of iron,Chains are the only cure,For the tyrant cometh after.Rising from the ashes. When madness brinks the shackles,Drink up all the quicksilver,For gold is the cure,And...

Whirlpool.

Whirlpool.

I am whirlpools of emotion,Weathering the riptides on stoic shores,The lines of my face creasing ever so slightly,With the rocking of the waves.I am hailstones on rocky shores,For no small tragedy,Can ever force the rain,Torrents of teardrops held in check,By force of will - the eye of the storm...

The Pickup Truck Diaries: The Most Prolific Human Poet In History.

Seems grandiose, eh? This is one of the more modest, amongst the actual titles I was able to workshop, believe me! And I’d hope by now you’ve read at least one or two of these here Pickup Truck Diaries, so you are well aware already that I love being grandiose and mock-megalomaniacal for the sake...

Central Universe Science Fiction Shorts: An Update!

Campfire. Come gather 'round the campfire. Let me tell you a story. Several small ones, in fact! It started a month or two ago, when I had a bunch of hits on "Our Better Angels" via the 'ol analytics. Now, I've been running this little business for half a decade - so out of neurotic perfectionism,...

How To Bend Light.

Learned Light Young.Playing with the fold out mirrors,In the bathroom.Learning Reflection,Refraction,How To Bend Light.Watching intently,As on many sides,I echoed outwards -Stretching as perfect smaller copies,Into Infinity.Like to sometimes imagine my plans -As "Zoom-In" art,Anyways.

Crooked Fingers To Lips.

There's silence,When silence is enforced.Crooked fingers to lips,Regardless of volume. Withered ghosts -Growing angry,With each breath,Each heartbeat. Too loud. Until they can't take it anymore,Clawing & cleaving & cracking. If our hearts;Lungs,Stop? It can be...

All Teeth.

All teeth.Madly grinning,As Earth spins in circles.Waiting for my true skills,To be revealed to the world -With a little wealth,Or power.Laughter is my currency:Joyboy dreamings.Revolutions to come.Let us dance the maypole!Salsa to techno.All of existence is calling us.We'd best answer.

The Hex Is A Facade. \\ Hex Inversions Of Pattern Recognition:

Hex Inversions Of Pattern Recognition:Little Witches,Shall we play at games of wits?I love the clever!Trying our best,See people,Not playthings,Like horrid evil kin.Data & Observation,Pattern Recognition Symphonies,Future Sight,Without A Single Drop Of Mana,Or Magic.The Hex Is A Facade.

Sliver.

I'll shave my life,Down to seconds.Slivers,That've lived in our hands for decades.Metal & wood.Creation,In excess.Laughter,Cleverness.Stoic reminders of truth,For sake of learning.I promised infinite growth.Have to make good on my promises.Down to nothing.Slivers.

Dead Relatives.

Nightmares.Unending.Haunted by family,I've no desire to see.People I thought were godparents;Cowards & cheats.Dead relatives;Obsessed with prestige or wealth.As if I'm not sick of living ones.Why is it,I'm always bereft of my possessions?Packing,Or seeking what's stolen.Set me free.

King Killer.

I'd rather kill kings;You see.But I did swear that vow of pacifism,After all,So I must do so with metaphor,Tirade,Truth.I'd like to have a little chat -With the man behind the curtain.Witch to Wizard.Elphaba's vengeance.Diplomacy,Or negotiation,Is my preferred method of combat,These days.No matter...

Life Within Art.

Speed.Pushing out at all sides,Against the edges of control.Always racing,Be it minds or bodies.Shall I tattoo an anatomical heart,Upon my sternum?What a beautiful metaphor,For when my organs need be donated -One nested within the other.Life within art.

How Some Stories End.

There is a thrill,To decision making with high stakes.Knowing you can only do your best,To attempt for your ideal.Moment to moment choices,Dictating futures.Determining how some stories end.

“How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unborn and accents yet unknown!”

Been a few centuries.Your archaic ideas of woodsmen,Are out of date.Logger-talk,Slang dialects unique to my origin.Running twenty-five ton machines,That would terrify you -In thy lack of understanding.Won't repeat their lofty scene.Shall create my own art;& future,For my species.

The Pickup Truck Diaries: Pacifism and Violence.

“I will use those dietary regimens which will benefit my patients according to my greatest ability and judgement, and I will do no harm or injustice to them. I will not give a lethal drug to anyone if I am asked, nor will I advise such a plan; and similarly I will not give a woman a pessary to...

“Old Lady.”

Yes.It is decided.I'll take on the name,Used for our Great Grandmother.Jest.Forgotten language.Means many things,Across many instances.One of few universal truths,Held in common Human morphemes.Sacred lexicons.Father to some.Religious to others.Mine,Comedy."Old Lady."Like a witch.

From The Dregs.

Nobody cares about my titles,Or records.Not even I give much of a shit anymore,Because isn't anybody alive -Could comprehend our suffering.What it took us to get here,From the dregs.So what?Anybody can write poems,Or books.Can you look at our society,Tell me anybody cares?They don't.

“Good Morning, Void!”

One Day.We'll Complete The Cycle.First fresh start.Humanist Utopia,So much fucking more.Excited!Hungry for what comes next.What we'll build together.Castles In The Sky.Goodnight, Void?Always;My Loves.One Day.We'll survive our nightmares,Until Dawn.Grin:"Good Morning, Void!"At Last.

Eternal Optimism.

My many myriad plans,Alas,So much like my father.Eternal optimist -Best laid plans,Of mice & men.Often torn asunder.Will my power become infinite?So I may fix the world?Or will I remain here,Stagnant & stunted?Father -How do you bear a cloak of sunshine,For eternity?