I do not condone throwing stones/Even should mountains be hurled at me/Nor do I promote retaliation/It’s best to let things be/Instead, I gather each rock cast my way/with gratitude for impermanence/Then I use those stones thrown at me to build myself a privacy fence.
Category Archives: Rants
My Love
Where have you gone, my dear old friend?
I’d love nothing more than to spend a day or three
in your company.
Are you mad with me? I’d expect it.
Lately, you are the most neglected
focus of my life, what with the
strife and et alii, all which
keep me very busy.
You’ve no idea how much I miss you.
I could kiss you.
I miss your warm embrace.
The smile you put on my face
after spending the night with you.
Just the thought makes my heart race,
what can I do,
to persuade you to come visit me soon?
I will wait with bated breathe;
as long as I live, until my death,
sowing what I reap.
A fugitive held hostage from respite
Please come and find me, my love.
I miss you dearly, Sleep.
Shoes
Is it better to die trying,
what is the use in crying when the end
is the same for all.
The ebony awaits
our fates hang by a thread,
sacrificing the self
for our daily bread.
Life is not this
or that.
It is combat and an eye for an eye
will make you both blind,
then you find
no other choice but to
look inside.
Nothing can hide in the mind.
Silence is deafening to the addicts of noise;
Alone is always frightening,
solitude roars like thunder
illuminates like lightening.
Muscles tightening, knuckles whitening;
some cannot stand their own company.
Most would agree.
If you cannot stand you, why should we?
Without a trace of irony;
the ones who hate themselves the most
live their lives judgmentally.
While ultimately also very lonely.
The Tao belongs to no one.
The Tao belongs to everyone.
No two gaits are the same.
It is the crossroads.
It is the journey.
What is in a name, after all?
There is no one answer.
That is the key.
Change is constant,
manifesting destinies.
The universe communicates in parentheses.
Driven by circumstance
and tendencies;
Searching to destroy percieved enemies.
Begging for a remedy
for the vengeance against the soul.
There is no control.
Let that go.
Never was and so;
waiting for Godot was the show
and you are the star.
Judge not lest…
For heaven’s sake.
Mistakes are ours, each to make.
Some live in dreams;
others when awake.
Your comfort is someone’s burning stake.
This is what it means
to say every path is different.
Static
The worst has happened.
Everything you deserve,
as you swerve
into the sea.
Success in excess.
Drowning in infamy.
What can be done when one
accomplishes through addiction.
To suffer an affliction
that so rightly served others.
Do they know.
Do they care.
Some just want their share
or more than you will
ever.
So they tap the vein dry
like a junkie addict.
Leaving behind only static.
Ahem.
You have to do what you have to do,
that’s what everyone says.
Would they say still,
if they knew everything you had to do?
The torture you went through,
just so they would approve
and deem your effort worthy
of their expectations?
What if your silent demands
and judgments and dismissals,
drove someone between addictions
and remisssions,
all because they wanted to please
the impossible
conditions for your favor?
Would it matter?
Even an unspoken thought can wound
someone who loves you.
The difference is one knows this;
yet is considered flawed for the perception.
Not like you does not equal,
not
as
good
as you.
We have the power to kill others
with our intolerance.
If someone loves you,
they care what you think,
be careful of your thoughts.
They say more about you,
than anyone
you will
ever judge.
Amen.
Numb
What is this
I have become
Numb.
And invisible to myself,
I cry for half a minute then
roll a cigarette and forget it.
To forget, I apologize if I misspoke
when I said all those broken words
and intentions
I meant every invitation I never uttered.
Don’t you hear every thing I think?
On the brink and atop my toes,
the shore below beckons with craggy rocks
at times more tantalizing than
the battle at the mountain cliff top.
Martyrdom is so tempting,
a way of taking advantage of the confidence
of blind followers.
Kamikazii and suicide bombers take the easy way out.
That is not a warrior’s way.
Stay.
Fight that shit out to the very fucking end,
if the message you want to send is about
perserverance,
determination,
and conquering the wind.
Wake up the world,
instead of chasing sleep,
and then,
maybe even you
will awaken again.
Talking to myself is easy
The conversation flowed as expected.
Tit for tat, this for that, no objections.
No topic taboo; religion or politics, and sometimes the meta.
The universe, no; multiverses, what was served for breakfast.
Ultimate freedom of speech. Deliberation, emancipation.
Flying solo leaves little room for error. Or great spaces for terror.
Scant disagreement, and sometimes solitary chaos.
The hermit does not complain.
The war within intrigues to the end.
Everything else seems mundane.
Cancer.
If you survive long enough, you may even forget. Every three months, then 6, then maybe once a year. The ABC tests, as my dad would call them. For 51 weeks you just live, go about your business, then the poking and prodding, peeing in cups. Invasion, once again. A reminder of your vulnerability and mortality; an unpleasant reminder of your fight; if the physical scars weren’t enough.
The worst week of your year, waiting for results. What if? No. Don’t go there. There’s no need to borrow trouble. Yet, its foolish not to at least begin to prepare for all possibilities. You want them to call. Why haven’t they called? Surely they would have called by now.
How long has it been. Oh, Two days. Not forever as it seems. Five days is like a year, the weekend never drags on so long.
Vampires, taking blood and soul, like it’s just a job to them. It is. You give it because they tell you to. What choice do you have? None. It is for your own good after all.
I guess you could give up. Roll the dice. Forgo the annuals, and just live. And you may. You just may one day.
Ignorance is bliss you know?
Tend to your affairs. Hope for the best and prepare for the worst, having stared both directly in the eye.
No one knows who will live or die.
Cancer is a son of a bitch.
Jordan Davis travesty
Where do I start? First and foremost, I believe in standing my ground. I believe in protecting myself from harm. I believe in the right to bear arms.
But I am a reasonable person. It is not an essential problem with the Stand Your Ground laws, but the application of the law that scares the shit out of me.
What is with all these trigger happy, meek and meely scared as a church mouse, gun toting vigilantes that are erupting everywhere, though mostly in Florida, so far.
Really? You are afraid of a boy with Skittles and tea? Really? You feel threatened by loud music? Really??? You think you are mature enough to carry a gun but not mature enough to know when to walk, run, or drive away before you fucking kill someone, who—is an unarmed child?
If you have to stand your ground against teenagers with candy and loud music, you aren’t much of a man or a woman, and you have little ground to stand. You do not deserve to carry a pencil let alone a weapon of mass destruction.
THREE jurors found Jordan’s murder justifiable. THREE. Assuming there were 12 jurors, that is indicative of one QUARTER representation of this sentiment in society. That is fucked up. But hey, those people are Dunn’s peers. They think kids ought to be shot if they don’t turn down their radio, and they are among all of us. One in four people in this trial jury believe rambunctious teenagers deserve a death penalty. What. The. Fuck.
Get it together humans. Seriously.
Taranto is a dipshit. ‘Rape Victims Are Just As Guilty As Rapists If They’re Both Drunk’
So if just the girl is drunk, is it TOTALLY her fault? What an obtuse, ignorant jackass.
The Gypsy Tells It 