You can't erase your face.
You can't retrace or displace
the lines you dislike.
Some people try. Why?
At best it makes a mess.

Why am I upset by a little extra bone?
The external effects of my natural testosterone?
How can a bit of unwanted hair excite despair?
Why do I care?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I pointlessly worry
about silly points
like the size of my shoulders
or my knee and thumb joints.
My hairline, my brow ridge,
the shape of my nose,
my masculine pelvis,
my crooked man toes...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My eyes are fine --
My only feature I like.
My shy smile is alright
but not too wide
'cause of my overbite --
-- the size of those incisors!

Now, some would say that I'm just vain,
so self-obsessed I've gone insane.
But I would say that's how we're trained,
At least in this day and age.

Others might paint me like Dorian Gray
praying to Satan for youth to stay,
but I just wish it hadn't gone this way.

Why would you keep your looks immutable
if you were never to begin with beautiful?

There's an addict in the attic,
and a trans girl in the tub;
There's an immigrant, Hispanic,
and a criminal in love.

There's a shaman burning incense,
and a gamer taking shots;
There's our upperclass equivalent,
and a noisy group of thots.

And the lady takes our livelihood
and somehow still stays poor,
so please make sure the lights are out,
and always lock the door.

ouch! that hurts my heart
I guess you didn't mean it
sorry, nevermind.

I like you a lot.
I'm glad that we met.
I'm always happy to see you...

I worry it's hard
to deal with my ****
and still want me to be near you...

I feel really lucky.
It seems so unlikely
you'd see me as endearing...

But like air on a flame
when you call me by name
my heart lifts at the hearing.

I never make friends;
My friends make me.
And it happens incredibly infrequently.

I'm naturally passive,
and purposefully patient,
so I'm glad for the gift of assimilation.

Life doesn't get me high anymore,
But unfortunately I'm still addicted.

Sometimes you wait and nothing happens.
That's why I'm not waiting.

My Body cannot Cry,
but my Soul Screams Eternally

When I was little, I fell into the deep end of a swimming pool.
While I can't have been under for more than a few seconds,
it felt like hours before anyone reached out their hand.

Another day
The Winter blows
My life away
And Summer knows

It's only just
A short respite
I'm ground to dust
And put to flight

An inspiration comes and goes
As in the dark a river flows
Beneath the surface pressure grows

I clueless by the geyser stand
Just staring with my stick in hand
At undisturbed and barren land

Eruption happens suddenly
The roaring deluge breaking free
And soaking both my staff and me

I plunge my rod into the ground
Absorbing from the pool around
That felt so deep I could have drowned

Into the mud thin roots are weaved
And now my sprig is sprouting leaves!
Surprising height its crown achieves

As high above the branches swayed
I've grown relaxed and unafraid
I'm simply sitting in the shade

My poetry *****
I've zero *****
To give my art
My empty heart
Devoid of feel
Has no appeal
Toward the sheep
Who watch me weep
A worthless sound
A spring unwound
Potential spent
Becoming bent
Approaching death
Jehovah saith
He shall be ******
The preacher groaned
In deep denial
We must revile
All things defiled
And we deny
That one divine
These horrors binds
Into our lives
As such we try
In faith to live
As we forgive
Ourselves alone
As He atoned
For us, but you
He would not do
Predestination
An invitation
You can't take
Unless you fake
The way we do
And say it's true
What's in our book
Just take a look
And soon you'll see
Reality
Belongs to me
--I mean to Him
His power's within
My mortal flesh
And who would guess
That it was me
Was meant to be
A chosen one
A pointed gun
At those He hates
His wrath abates
When fire is cold
And time gets old
As was foretold
By prophets bold
Great men of old
Religion sold
The people told
Their word of gold
But on inspection
Their intention
Is control
To be the sole
Proprietors
And keep the people quieter

Vocal ingenuity
A generous gratuity
I wish could be removed from me
But I would still write poetry

--Which someone else would have to read
As from the page the inkblots plead
"Give us a voice!" the letters said
Without a voice they would be dead

But no-one reads my poetry
And so its voice is left to me
To show the World, or just to try
Be truly heard before I die

There once was a man from Nantucket
Who walked off the job and said "**** it;
  Can't work one more day
  If you treat me this way.
The boss and the owner can **** it."

"So how much will the rental be?", he hollers.
"A thrifty fee of fifty three green dollars."

Bipartisan Ecological Propositions lay Indignantly Dormant.

(1) Nun Izraelo diru tiun ĉi:
Se l'Eternulo kun ni ne estus
(2) Se l'Eternulo fore nin lasus
Kiam leviĝis homoj kontraŭ ni
Nian animon provantaj ĉasi

(3) Tiam vorintus certe ili nin,
Kaj tuj glutintus laŭ timo nia;
Tiel estis kolero ilia -
(4) Ĉion dronanta, kiel inundo;
ili nin trenus suben al morto.

(5) Akvo fiera, kun ondoj tiaj -
Tute la teron superfluantaj
Animojn niajn detrukovrantaj.
(6) Benu la Eternulon nun ĉiuj;
Li nin ne donis al iliaj dentoj.

(7) Kiel ĉasbirdo el la kaptilo;
La retoj estas nun disŝiritaj,
Kaj nune estas ni liberitaj.
(8) Helpas nin nur la Nom' de l'Eternul',
Kreinto de la tero kaj ĉiel'.

Dear Mrs. Shade,
Unlike these flowers
Through days and hours
Your spirit's weight
Shall not abate
Nor shall your memory fade

We are Laura, Will and Larry.
We are willfully illiterate.
We are leery of reading.
We literally won't willingly learn to read literature.

Well, if law required we read, would we refuse?

Alright, whatever.
We won't really worry, will we?

The spirit of these long dead men
Be found to live in me again
And just the same when I am gone
Our spirit guide our children on

Here we go again
Man, this **** really ***** ***
They say I need it

The sleepy creep weeps.

anticipation
energy is mounting high
waiting for discharge

welcoming to cold
how quickly you change your face
cut right to the bone

living with kittens
naive, simple, and carefree
you can hear the mews

What can I do
If my birthday suit
Is inside out and backwards?

What can I say
If every day
I'm forced to be an actor?

Why should I be
Where they'd rather see
Me hanging from a rafter?

How can I live
And just forgive
The ones who call me *******?

Am I preordained
To wear this chain
Keep living like a captor?

Where should I flee
If all I see
Is one endless tragic chapter?

see through hardened panes
watching nature's ebb and flow
inside out snow globe

He abandoned me
I couldn't be what he'd want
Was never enough

Regret is not a choice
that you can be sure of
making right
here and now
but never again
shall we be free
for all
I cannot know
what
lies above
began
be gone!

when he came to me
I couldn't see what he saw
I hope it's enough

'What reality is this?', she giggled.

Before a second had passed,
she had ceased to exist.

Hatred runs
through the Universe

like putrid Blood
through a festering Wound

I looked through a peephole
and I saw a pair's son.
They saw me roar.

I must efface
the heron vase
so it will never be replaced.

The meaning of life
Can we find it in our book?
lol i dunno man

Every person I knew as a child will be taken away;
Every landmark destroyed or changed beyond recognition.
Soon enough even the memories will fade.
I see why so many people live through their children.

society will **** me.
so will reclusivity

S.O.S.
we're in distress
require immediate assistance.

Come quick as you can
tell your captain, Old Man
and pardon my insistence.

We're sinking fast
our ship won't last
despite our best resistance.

But as long as she floats
get ready your boats
to salvage our existence.

C.Q.D.
please talk to me
as it is, we aren't left much persistence.

waiting for someone
to come by and steal my heart
for the black market

walking the graveyard with a torch and a Sack
I once went with only the clothes on my Back
feeling full Force the weight of the Course
I'm obliged to continue along the dark Track