Odd Observations from a Skewed Perspective

Follow suit. Especially bathing suits.

It’s been a while. Pardon the dust.

There were storms
But that’s what happens when you love gods
There was winds and rain
But that’s what happens when
They were ae god of hurricanes
There were swells so high I could see only sky
And only thunderclouds
Always thunderclouds
But that’s what happens when you’re a ship in a bottle
And when my sails are bellied full
Swollen and pregnant round
When my prow has burst the cork
And the sea has spilled its tears
Will the keel drift
On open wings and tattered spars
To an unknown horizon
And that is what happens
When one tries to bottle the sun

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Huracan

There!
Do you see the clouds boil against the sky and come crashing to the earth in great and magnificent waves?

Do you see the leading edge like the underbelly of the sea’s fury, churning with dark laughter framed in jagged splintering teeth?
There, is where I will be.
Dispatched to this edge, this blood soaked band of gems twisting along the errant coastline,

I’ll stand: the last watch, letting go of what I am to become what I could be.
Do you feel it?

The swell of the Fujin drawing breath, pulling against the old tragedies of the body.

It tugs against the curled handle I squeeze in my grip

and

purling inside the canopy,

It rips tears and testimonies and empty conquests,

leaving me bitter and raw as the first race of running patterers dance across the water surface.

It reminds me to breathe.

The storm is coming.

It is time to cross over.

Beneath the Boards

Stretched out

With tears in my hair

The abyss of blue

gaped, naked in its

haughty mocking

Wide and empty.

its pale maw wrenched

of ether and viscera

where no beam crested

no forgotten dream lost

and I felt tell-tale in

my heart, the desire

to rend and tear

to end existence

to save those that I love

the pain of knowing me

If only I could rape the

fabric of being

with the careless slash of my fingertips

if only I had it in me

to be so cruel

to be so courageous

to know which hand in the dark

will lead me out

or lead me under

Yearning for an answer

for the dance between

the yin and the yang

to end the tick tick ticking

of my tears

falling in my hair

Witching Hour Ramblings

I keep my tears to 4am

Away from the eyes and the lies

Dripping my inadequacy

Into the cauldron

I try to keep my tears to 4am

To avoid the burden I’ve become

In the emptiness

of your grace

I sometimes keep my tears to 4am

Desperate to find another

Inch in the well

To dip my empty cup

I fail at keeping my tears to any timetable

Where they mock you and I

With their authenticity

And evaporate

on the road to hell

Chew and Spit

I have no desire

to be used and discarded

by you today

Perhaps tomorrow

Or the day after that

Maybe later

Not today

Today I have to reweave

the threads of spirit

To rewind my mind

To undo the damage

I have allowed

By being fool enough

To fall in love

I have no desire

to be someone else

When your lips touch mine

Be furthest from your mind

while I lay in your arms

Not today

Today I deserve reverence

When a kiss is

the lips on the sand

of one long left home

now returned 

 

 

She said “Speak English”

She said “Speak English”

And I blinked

into her face the incredulous and the ignorant

Saw the atrophy of the spoken word

and Raged

She said “Speak English”

Has your tongue become so lazy

Your mind so hazy

That you cannot recognize

the language in which you speak?

She said “Speak English”

I open my mouth

And a dance falls out

Full Fred Astaire

Tip tapping around your intellect

I careen with subtlety

right under your nose

And whisper hyperbole

Far over your gaze

I won’t yoke my tongue

to your dull plow

Following the same furrows

Your grand daddy laid out

My head exists beyond your scope

your influence, your reach

Following footsteps in ether

You can’t possibly track

Wondering why the same evils befall

your corner of the world  

because you cannot be bothered

to explore the language I speak

that you speak

when you tell me to 

speak English

Demanding I share your ignorance.

I refuse. 

Grab a dictionary,

Grab a book,

Delight in the wonders of knowledge

that lay at your fingertips

learn new things, new words

so that when I flex my 

silvered muscle

You will rise

And you too, 

will speak English.

The Frosts and Consent Culture

The Frosts and Consent Culture.