Screams soar to a whisper
gliding through the wind
riding my own purple storm
Languid from the useless pursuits
Pink symphonies
filling skies anew
Waves lapping at my feet
Letting go of me letting go of you
©Silverbackgorillapoetry 2016 August
I’ve not been making it to the bird hides of late, so i searched for photography challenges to try and inspire myself. The list of challenges i found started with my worst nightmare. A self portrait. I often take the piss out of people taking their selfies.
So let me take a moment to humble myself and become one of you selfie takers…
Silverbackgorillaphotography ©
By a stroke of luck
I was born with a light bulb above my head
So they knew I was a genius
Right from the start
The doctors slapped my bum
And said “Ya’ve got a genius boy, just look at his light bulb!”
I came shooting out the womb
Talking and walking
I didn’t cry
I simply greeted the doctor like this
“Why hello dear Doctor, please clean me up, I look a right fuckin’ mess”
Imagine his surprise at my French?!
These consequences were unintended
When we struck the matches
And flooded our eyes with promises
The fields are rich with green
And the horizon promises anything
But these strings
That once entangled us
Now we’re free
© silverbackgorillapoetry 2016 August
© Silverbackgorillaphotogragphy 
Unzipping the baggage
Contained within
Only for you to recoil
And shove it back in.
“I was not prepared to hear over and over from men how the women – the mother, sisters, girlfriends, wives – in their lives are constantly criticizing them for not being open and vulnerable and intimate, all the while they are standing in front of that cramped wizard closet where their men are huddled inside, adjusting the curtain and making sure no one sees in and no one gets out. There was a moment when I was driving home from an interview with a small group of men and thought, Holy shit. I am the patriarchy. Here’s the painful pattern that emerged from my research with men: We ask them to be vulnerable, we beg them to let us in, and we plead with them to tell us when they’re afraid, but the truth is that most women can’t stomach it. In those moments when real vulnerability happens in men, most of us recoil with fear and that fear manifests as everything from disappointment to disgust.” Brene Brown
I warned thee
stupidity is contagious
now its spread
and we’re all shameless
walking aimless
claiming to be blameless
dressed in rags
completely faithless
Feigning patience
With faces lit by screens
becoming brainless
Almost on the verge
of becoming nameless
© Silverbackgorillapoetry 2016 August
*note: this may be a duplicate. i can’t remember if i posted this one yet
The absurdity of existence can’t be escaped. Whether a person believes in god, the Big Bang, a mixture of the two, or believes we were brought here by aliens, whatever you believe there is one thing we can surely all agree on, our existence is absurd.
Doesnt matter which way you paint it, it’s fucking absurd. I mean think about it. Either this is one big ‘accident’ or some ‘god’ created the earth and us. Aren’t both versions absaloutely, incredibly insane, when you really think about it? And when I say insane, I don’t mean that both are wrong, but that if any of them are right it’s just…. absurd!
I’m more inclined to believing that this existence is random, that no conscious being has created us. That God is just a noun for nature, rather than some conscious being. So yes god is omnipotent, god is indeed everywhere at once.
You know how you humans often anthropomorphise animals? (I’m a gorilla. No the irony is not lost on me) That is essentially what this idea of god is, it’s an anthromorphized view of the entire world. It’s an anthromorphised explanation for natural events.
I like anthropomorphism, I enjoy engaging in it. But then I recognise this is just me projecting my own gorillamanity onto the other animals
I’m going to wear slippers
While dressed in a smart suit
As I go along with my endless pursuits
Never could find a place
To put down my roots
Living out of bags
Always an urge just to up and vamoose
Forget brushing my hair
Fuck that bloody hair mousse
Forget looking spick and span
I’m no Bruce Wayne, no flipping batman
No six pack to be had
Unless you add the beer cans
‘Eh do ya think that one day
There will be a St Matthews Holiday
In memory of little old me?
No, no. I’m getting ahead of myself
Like I say, I’m not some bloody superman
I’m just a super, super modest man
Here is Mark Mansons article on not giving a fuck
Mark Manson apprently doesn’t give fucks, or rather has a fuck account and never spends more fucks than he has or is needed. I’ve spent so many fucks, you’d think i’d be in debt with no fucks left to give. But it seems unlike my bank account for money, the more fucks I give the more fucks I get….. Huh? It seems the secret with fuck accounts, unlike bank accounts is to try to have less fucks, rather than gaining more fucks.
So the more fucks you have, the poorer you are. So have an account with few fucks but use those few fucks wisely. I’m guessing a fuck account with zero fucks, would be bad. Indifferent. I kind of wish i could be indifferent though. I want zero fucks in my account.
Fuck yea I want zero fucks. But now I give too much of a fuck about getting my fuck account to zero….
Ah fuck.
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 