Be the recluse,
Be the hermit,
And make your assessments of others
Based on short and fleeting interaction,
Drenched in the sweat of "purpose" & "agenda,"
And be met with statements
Which really convey nothing and rarely
Encapsulate honest thought in brevity
But are said only to end the conversation.
Close knit,
The threads choke,
Living your turtleneck life.
No collar to be turned up,
The cotton already hugs your throat;
Nothing to end abrupt,
That which never saw its start.
Those who talk
Simply to hear themselves,
Do they have anything to say?
Those with the blinders on,
They never see the entrance ramp
Neither the turn-offs
Till it's too late.

They call me
A...
Mummy
Partner
& Love

They call me
Friend
Lover
Playmate

They call me
Sister
Daughter
& Auntie Iva

They call me
Mother Dearest
When they're feeling
Cultured
& Refined

Or Mummylumps
When feeling
Content
Shiny
Or snugly

They call me
Hey you
Miss
& Ma'am
When I'm just another body
In line
In traffic
In their way

They call me
Vivi
Vi
Or by my full name
When they know my mom and dad

They call me
Student
Client
Patient
Or User
When they want my money

They call me
With tears, sometimes
Or with ire
With confusion
Joy
Or small triumphs
When I have the privilege
Of being their person


They call me names
These are their names
They are not mine

Vanity, take your measurements -
Tailor me a suit to cover all character.
Take all discretion, only
As to whether I'm dressed pleasant
And wear a guise that's hygienic.
It's all very copacetic,
A couple of sweet words
More akin to syrup than cane;
Unnatural and fake.

Nihilism, because I
Have no option but
To feel. What
Comes from
Broken relations & perspectives
But seeing clear? When
Glass cracks
Do you grab a mirror?
Or do you only forsake
Warm love turned cold?
Do you line with gold
And rebuild what breaks,
Or only grieve the remains?

From cosmopolitan, to nationalism;
For the world, for country.
For what is the world today
But a conglomerate of nations,
For what is a nation but apart of a world?
On a mish-mash, adrift through a vast nothing;
What a ride, what a whirl-
A mess of tribes infighting.

Not a kiss to tell of,
Just hot lust;
Aching to feel her
Lips, around-the-clock

I ask you, what is math?
What are equations?
Factored life.
I charge it is living,
Senseless pained observations which we must make
So as to live another day, so as not to perish early
And die before a just time;
The degrees of life are right.
Man must stand *****, stiffen your spine,
But remain relaxed.
Straighten out your ethics, your morals;
Never forget from where you came.
Your ancestors, this planet.
That you are just in another herd.
No really different than any other animal,
Only in our intelligence.
Which is itself, a gift.
So give thanks to mother nature.
She could use it

We have so few words for peace,
And far too many for war.
Symbolically, and literal.
Does everyone just hate each other?
I don't, I look at us like siblings;
A family of the same species
Contending with the forces of the cosmos
With the aid of all that is natural.

There is a natural frequency
That resonates through all of this.
You can find it, and it is gorgeous.

Tread the mental waters to
Find the cave
Of hope and desire,
Of just things that are fair
And still grow in shade.
Hidden away, unless
You are brave
And face yourself.