Shielding my eyes from the sun I see you in that summer dress Who’d have thunk it The blue eyed girl whose heart I won and the brown eyed boy I’m always torn On the brink of sex and ruin Always just on the cusp from love © 2016 May
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Humans don’t always treat other animals too well, and they most certainly don’t always treat other humans too well.
But consider, if you saw an anomaly in another animal that rarely would you judge it and damn it to hell. You may think the animal is filthy, you may think they’re ugly, but you wouldn’t judge it as harshly as you would if it was a human. You’d just say that he or she is ‘one of a kind’ he or she is a ‘rarity’ in this species. But you won’t necessarily afford the same acceptance to another human with a similar or the same anomaly.
Ponder that for a moment.
It’s not just other non-human animals that you can learn from, you can also learn from how you treat animals.
There is a reason psychopaths commonly abuse animals. The care for no living thing on this planet, human or otherwise.
In religion you haven’t found modesty, you’ve found a pedestal.
Can nature become unnatural? Is perhaps a question we should always ask ourselves before delcaring something unnatural. If I say something is unnatural, what am I suggesting it is? ‘not natural’ is just a repeat of ‘unnatural’ worded differently, so it can’t be the answer. What exactly is it, if it’s undone from nature? How does it still exist? How did it ever exist? To become unnatural, implies you can undo nature. How does one undo nature? And if you do perhaps, undo something, haven’t you just naturally created a new pathway, new neuron connections?
To say something is unnatural then, one must assume nature is immutable. And we know that isn’t true, we have seasons right before our eyes that shows nature changes.
The question isn’t “why did god make us?” the question should be “Why did we make god?”
Losing momentum while you all gather like moths to a flame is the loneliest existence for no one knows your name © 2016 April
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I’m not the best of men There is no hero Behind my eye sockets Unblinking to the aftermath Of human anguish Ready to take on the world Even if it hurts No. My body is just a derelict waiting room where a boy awaits Dressed in postman pat pj’s © 2016 April
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I want to go excavating For dinosaur bones Got my checkered shirt Camera too Though I might need to get some Better outdoor shoes They call me the fossil lumberjack Always was the nerd With dinosaur biscuits in his backpack Playing dinosaur trumps Till we lost or won Or maybe that was Just yesterday Don’t mistake me For a hipster Though I’m Still a kid at heart The cigarettes between my fingers The only sign of adulthood © 2016 April
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Traces of your perfume Linger caressing the air Like your fingers Subtle approach Coy under veils Lest we be caught I sink into your aroma The ghost of your Voluptuous breasts Dancing, quivering Embraced between your thighs Enthralled by the movement Of hips Biting landmarks On each other skin I think I’ll just sit And let those memories Sink in ©2016 April
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Lighting up the blues
At the end of cigarettes
Pretending surprise
When we become shapeless
Just a number
Sealed in folders
Becoming blurs
A fingertip away from zero
Touching silence
Wishing we were heroes
(c) 2016 March
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With this liquid cruelty
Bring on the bourbon whiskey
And lonely girl bartenders
Living lives of dissatisfaction
Who will take off their dresses
While they’re dancing on the sheets
In hotel room one hundred and twenty three
Where cheap nights
Lace with cheap curtains
I’ll promise
it’s all discreet
And my fingers like pencils
Will draw upon her cheeks
The red blush of sex
She’s been waiting for, for weeks
I’ll inhale the smell
Of her perfume
Devour her beauty
When she does the walk of shame
I’ll beat the heart of pain
Knowing I’ve dirtied
another one
And I’ll spin into nothingness
At 3 am
Trying to chase back
My drunken ass
Before I feel lame again
(c) 2016 March
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