9.8 m/s, 14.7 psi.

9.8 m/s, 14.7 psi.

Lost or found?You're adrift amidst your cosmos,Held by 9.8 m/s squared, of gravity.14.7 pounds PSI, of pressure:Weight of this atmosphere upon you.Hurtling across space,Chained to thy rock.Crust all full of magma.You know nothing.To see the world as I do;As a wash of Atoms,Is both a blessing &...

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Eating My Own Tail.

Eating My Own Tail.

Ouroboros.Ancient symbolism,Chosen for connotations -To Alchemy,Witchcraft,Magic,Mythology.Metaphors powerful enough,To contain my psyche.My thousand allusions.The dozens of riddles,Or intentions,Hidden in every poem.Clues to later endeavours,Or current struggles.Eating my own tail.

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Handing It Things To Hold.

Handing It Things To Hold.

ADHD;Infinite Hunger.Like a bored toddler -Handing it things to hold.Harvest dopamine from.Choosing:Half a battle:Games,Art,Learning,Better action point choices,Than gorging on food,Sex,Substances.Fail lots.Gluttony reigning days.But unlike my idols:I'll persist,& win my ever-war.

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Melatonin Dreams.

Melatonin Dreams.

When I risk taking Melatonin;My dreams go wild.Outdoor classrooms on the mountain,Complete with shitty asshole kids.Going from abuse,Mundane,To Volcanic Eruptions,Up the mountains.Trying to use logging physics,To save shitheads,Via cuts & valleys,As we die,Flee,Down towards the ocean.

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Silent Poetry.

Silent Poetry.

That is the most dangerous,Possible,Thing. One can never speak aloud,My Poems. Warning:Riddled With Hexes,Hoaxes,Hard Truths.Write them in silence.Read them in silence.Yet never recite them aloud.Not me.Not you.I refuse. Won't be held responsible for what happens,When you\we:Do.

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Old Alchemy.

Old Alchemy.

Midnight.Clenched,Held in palm of closed fist,To drink power -Emotion redirected into intent.Old Alchemy.Converting stress into success,'Ere Heartbreak To Horror.My Witchcraft Is Simple.Spoken Word Poems,Written Digital,Lost To Time,Made Manifest In Complete Silence.Metaphors.Curses.

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Story Of A Girl.

Story Of A Girl.

The Spell Is Thus:"She shall be my finest Jester.Stand atop the world,Dancing her finest to her own beat,& drum.Be it rimshot or renegade -Ferocity & ambition is the game.She must be fierce.Hunger at greater goods.Right hand of such a Titan.Independent -Yet collaborative as an...

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Irreverent.

Irreverent.

Callous?Nay!Irreverent.World is cruel.I know.You didn't just tell me a thousand times.Lived it.Huddled under rocks,Following Impact Winters.Ancient Cryptid Histories.My time in the bush taught me:Little changed.A RIDDLE:A Jester has one job.What is that job?Why is irreverence;A must?

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Meter’s Running.

Meter’s Running.

Pause?Why?My clock is ticking.Meter's running.Mortality waits for none.Why the fuck -Is everyone always trying to stop me?Getting in my way?Never want to use my infinite mass -Against anyone.Crushing obstacles is annoying,Especially when they remain people.Alas;The cycle repeats.

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Chirp Away.

Chirp Away.

Not to posture,But rather coldly reckon:Dark malice throbbing.Broken records -Become more than the sum,Of my parts.Survived through hellscapes.Who the fuck are you?What have you accomplished?What achievements to thy name?You've no idea who I am,Nor the weight,I yet carry.Hm.Chirp away.

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Folks Who Wish Me Dead.

Folks Who Wish Me Dead.

Have family that hates me,& yet stalks me.Folks who wish me dead.Half of western society?Despises me just for being me.Who I am.Am I tired of existing?Sure am!Will I give in to everyone who hates me?No chance.Dragging my broken,Bloodied self,By the forearms,Is nothing new,At all.

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“Hark how I’ll bribe you.”

“Hark how I’ll bribe you.”

You couldn't.That's what the idiots don't get.Yes I use my real name.Have a website.Open Secret Vibes:Despise Shills & Shilling.Why else would my work be mostly free?I'll never sell out from my ideals,For cash.Not now.Not ever.Morals & Values?Worth much more to me than gold.Or silver.

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Walk Forwards, Eternal.

Walk Forwards, Eternal.

Let our gentle paths,Guide us unto salvation.Demanding Pacifism;Of ourselves.Of others.In hopes of gentler tomorrows.Ones we've never had.Never even seen.Luck?Probability is mappable.Chaos Theory;A la Three Body Problems.Clench my teeth,Grit fists with gravel,Walk Forwards,Eternal.

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Marcellus.

Marcellus.

Was Marcellus a great poet?Not particularly.Yet we share the root -In that our words come from within,To remain without.Just because he went first,Doesn't mean I won't follow.Justice remains broken.Our words remain hollow.But our voices still echo,Long past our return to Void;& Entropy.

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Sharp & Crooked.

Sharp & Crooked.

These teeth will grind,& crush themselves to dust:Insofar as thy heart is clenched between them.Sharp & crooked,Like other ancient yellowed shards of enamel.Blood pouring from ventricles,Atria.Iron I take.From you.For me.Proteins As Carnivore Truths.Unlike most wild beasts,Prefer muscle...

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The Hunchback Of Notre Dame.

The Hunchback Of Notre Dame.

On scales of insufferability,I do tend middling at best.Moles or growths,Plus some remains -Of keratin or cartilage spikes.Half an eyebrow missing,From a decade-old folly.Skin stretched white & purple,As far as it can;Without tearing.In some places it did,Healed back together.Suffered so...

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Graveyard For Toys. \\ Hollow Empty Black Sockets.

Graveyard For Toys. \\ Hollow Empty Black Sockets.

Forgotten amidst weeds,As ever.Cosmic equivalent,Of a graveyard for toys.Where I once came to rot -Festering,Bloating,As all flesh eventually does.'Til naught but spirit & bone,As the best of us.Hollow Empty Black Sockets.Death's Head:In full display.Madness Lies This Way.Are You Sure?

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Sour-Sweet.

Sour-Sweet.

No sense wasting all this wanting.Dragging our tongues,Along lines of sucrose.Lemon-Miracle Fruit.Sour-Sweet.Lost somewhere between.Need,I merely fill.Want,Offers chances to play.Dance!Frolic.Until the end comes,As all good things must endure.Interlapping beginnings & endings,Forever.

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No More Family To Speak Of.

No More Family To Speak Of.

This it?Deciding moment.Culling the last ties;To be completely alone.No more family to speak of.Independent at last.Autonomous,Even if I have to live in the wilds -Like a feral wildling again.Can I sever that final bond?Finally be free.Yet also so very alone.Good at that.Unfortunately.

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The Pickup Truck Diaries: “The Second Most Prolific Poet In History” & Goal Setting.

Let’s start this edition of The Pickup Truck Diaries with a rhetorical question: “How does one go about achieving the goals they’ve set for themselves?” I’ll give you a few minutes to pause and think about that. Most folks have already started churning their brains into realistic “brass tacks”...

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,...

McRae’s MTG Corner: The Rainbow Bible. (AKA The Rukarumel “Gay Pirates!” Tribal Tribal CEDH Primer.)

WARNING: This piece clocks in at 62,000+ words. It currently holds the record for longest "CEDH Primer" ever written. (Although it's more like a textbook or resource guide to Tribal Archetypes, and Rainbow/5c Magic, really.) It is over half the size of my sci fi books. Please remember to drink...

McRae’s MTG Corner: Tempo For Dummies (Especially For Commander.)

Aight, we back yet again. Somehow in my long years of being an L1 Judge and Modern and EDH player, I had never realized that learning tempo in Magic The Gathering is a rather visceral experience, in that you learn experientially. For the layman, that means that you have to learn that deep sense of...

McRae’s MTG Corner: Siloing CEDH & EDH

Ew, I got CEDH in my EDH… Today we’re here to talk about power levels in the casual commander format, as well as how to encourage better CEDH & EDH play by more carefully separating the two formats despite their strange interwoven nature. As a “retired” L1 Judge for Magic: The Gathering, I’m...

Punk Witchcraft.

Power belongs to nobody.Hear me Little Witches;That's always been the point.Punk Witchcraft -Using Blood Curses,Hexes,Fueled by agony & suffering -We bottled decades ago.Finally!A chance to use it!Evil for good.Good for evil.Ten thousand shades of grey,Between parallel lines.NOBODY.

We Do Not Pray.

We do not pray.Especially not to dead gods.Fairy tale salvations;To absolve us from sin.Whose?Which sins?These thousand voices,Of ghosts & madness!Spirits I've tamed with force.Or will.Cajoled,Coerced,Conquered.At some point,You become so haunted -That sand-drawn lines,Stop existing.

The Brewery Episode 17: “Liar Liar.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B-_pzuU2bcw&t=5s&ab_channel=TheBreweryMTG Asmodeus The Archfiend vs Jon Irenicus, Shattered One vs Satoru Umezawa vs Commander Liara Portyr | MTG Commander Gameplay | The Brewery Ep17: “Liar Liar.” Welcome to the jankiest #MTG show around! Join Joseph,...

The Same Old Bigotry.

Most of the lifetime hate crimes,I've experienced -Have been from some denomination,Of an Abrahamic faith.Usually Catholic or Protestant.Sabotaging everything from relationships,To jobs.I grow weary,Of the same old bigotry.Thrown at me,Ad nauseam.The misanthropy rages at every injustice.

Is there such a thing as soulmates?

Is there such a thing as soulmates?I'm fearful of walking this long road home,All alone.Forevermore.I feel like I'm finally ready to give away,Pieces of myself again.But how will I ever find the right ones?Kiss and tell myself,That they're a place I can find.Are they?

Synthetic Beauty.

Eloquence is easy -Summer dew across the fields of sunflowers,A soft kiss upon the forehead.Painting memories in oration,Whispering at desires.The skilled play in darkness -Roiling void slithering at the edges of vision.The whispers in the black,Madness given form,Glee.

Too Dark For Most.

Too dark for most,Hermit by choice.Keeping company with ghosts,Humans often struggle to understand.Consumed by shadow,There're none,Who freely choose to sit,In this darkness.Why would they?Unafflicted,Who would worship -An absence of light?Revere entropy?Mad,That.

Tears In The Dark.

These tears,In the dark.Good reminders of our stoic defences.Masks.Facades that keep us flailing.Nobody is unbeatable.Not even me.But,Damned if I don't try.Howling winds.Soothing,Reminding me of a birthplace.But that too,Was fleeting.Borrowed time,Or world views.Tears,Nonetheless.

Dreamlessness.

Dreamlessness is refreshing.Waking up without memory,Of whatever my nightmares,Would have been.Not completely sure -But hope -For this dreamless sleep more often.My trauma haunts my subconscious,No matter how much control I have;In my waking life.Dream Warrior?Hah!Rather have real rest.

A New Ragnarok.

Ho!Hark!I'll soon travel the four winds,Galloping across the globe."Have you heard?""The Serpent looms."Whispered prophecies,Finally coming true.Apocalypse.Fearful murmurings,Caught upon breezes.I hear them all,You fools.Snakes taste you upon the air,Strike suddenly.

Variations On Nightmares.

This nightmare different;In two parts.First sneaking aboard an exodus ship,Destined for somewhere across the world,After a fall.Bastions of civilization,Amidst authoritarian regimes.Wastelands filled with monsters,Forced to scavenge for trash.Fighting the system,Monsters,All.

Neurodivergent.

I give gifts,Of time.Space.Wisdoms and laughter.I love the clever,Who realize the pricelessness -Of a neurodivergent brain.Know worth,In words and patterns.I've crossed realities,To love those I loved.Now -I gift my precious time,To those I'm impressed with.You?

Alien.

Alien,In most contexts I find myself in.Always the other;Never an insider - without careful masking.Canadian amongst Americans,Neurodiverse amidst neurotypicals,Thank fuck I used to act,I guess?Perhaps the fawn response baked into me,From abuse,Can even be a useful tool when self aware.

To All The Dead Kids I Taught.

An unspoken promise.To All The Dead Kids I Taught.I'll fight for tomorrow.Even if you aren't here to see it.Humanism,Tempered by Stoic Amalgamation -Of All The Knowledge & Wisdom,I've gorged upon.If not you;Them.Children Of Men.They deserve hope.A Future.We,Need to give it to them.

One Year.

I spat nasty words like hot curling irons through toilet paper, wrinkling out flames and black smoke into damp spring air. It has been one year since tensions simmered and boiled down a relationship, cherry picking doubts and fears that tick-tocked two months time until explosions rocked the...