Stilling,
a word that ain't right
Stilling, I feel the stillness still in me
Just for a second
I need continuing
rhythmic breaths keeping
I am not thinking, but am I?
Am I breathing right and stilling my mind?
Go figure, I am sleepless sleeping all the time.

Slipping,
Like I had time and it is spilling
Like now how much more do I possess
Peace is slipping from the best of the hands
We were calm before, future uncertain
It's the present I don't know
It's in second break, slipping into a trance

Stopping,
My thoughts like a top, endlessly spinning
A spiral of worries, a ceaseless hum
Is this a dream, or has my reality come undone?
The world spins on, indifferent to my plight
Trapped in this moment, suspended in night
I yearn for an end, a quiet release
From this relentless turmoil, I seek inner peace.

Sinking,
Deeper into the silence, slowly shrinking
The edges of my being, blurring and faint
A whisper of self, a silent complaint
The weight of the world, a heavy embrace
Leaving no room for time, no time, no space.
Just this hollow echo, a fading sound
As I lose myself, nowhere to be found.

Surrendering,
To the quiet starking dark, no longer contending
The fight has left me, a weary sigh
Beneath the vast and indifferent sky.
This hushed acceptance, a strange new grace,
A fading pulse in this empty space.
No more struggle, just a gentle sway,
As I finally let go of this body, and drift away.

Mr Trump now sits atop
The Armageddon bomb
With his hand above the button.
Does he know this will cause war
That ends the world we live in.

Does he think that we’ll be safe
These many miles across the globe?
And think the grid that runs our lives
Invulnerable to an attack

When secret plans have long been made
And mechanisms put in place
That only take their button pressed
To bring US to a screeching halt.

Could anybody be so blind
As not to know an action
Generates always reaction
That will be more horrible
Than any nightmare you can dream.
ljm

We’ll hitchhike to mars
on a rocket not a car,
so say your au revoirs.

We’ll steer towards Polaris, the north star
right through the center of the milky-way-bar.
See, the universe is dark and chocolatey.

Stars that glitter like multi-faceted gems,
are just shiny, yellow, peanut M&Ms,
take a handful, if you’d like, they’re free.

We’ll dodge the silhouetted moon,
which is made of enough coconut macaroon,
to make a French confectioner swoon.

As we go streaking, like a comet’s tail,
drag a finger through Saturn’s rings as well,
those are made of marshmallow.

We’ll  pass nebulae made of cotton-kandi,
and here’s a fact Einstein would have found handy,
the speed of light doesn’t apply to candy.
.
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Ramble on by Toni Jevicky

I watch her apply creams and lotions to her face through the steamed glass of the shower door before lathering, rinsing off and stepping out.

she greets me at the bathmat with a towel,
then towels me off and flashes me the most
beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. I smile back,
feeling more understood and less misconstrued as she pats and wipes the beads of water away.

it’s moments like these that can make a man
crumble into submission, capturing the quick
glimpses of the joy and the gentle peace from
another beautiful soul when there’s so much
terror, fame & corruption reigning down in
this misbegotten world.

we stand there facing one another

we don’t have to be anybody
we don’t have to be anyplace
we don’t have to worry about anything
we can just simply enjoy each other’s company

looking deep into the eyes
she caresses my beard
she understands me
she takes care of me

& it’s nice to be taken of
especially after a lifetime
of taking care of yourself

I stand there feeling the good times pass
as she dries my ***** with this
lucratively warm towel.

Alone
Alone
Alone
I think I’m going crazy
Talking to myself
Questioning if I’m even alive
Hurting myself to see if I can even feel
Alone
Alone
Alone
Me and the sound of the air conditioner buzzing
Me and my million thoughts that all drown each other out
And it’s summer
I’m supposed to be happy
But I’m broken
Broken and
Alone
Alone
Alone
I just want someone to answer the **** phone
And I’m just so ******* sad
So so sad
And when people are sad they’re supposed to ******* cry
But my eyes are dry
Dry and sad
Sad and
Alone
Alone
Alone
I wanna see red pour down my body
The color to make me feel alive
Vibrant unlike my head which seems grey
Grey grey grey
Did you know grey is my least favorite color?
It feels so empty
Empty and
Alone
Alone
Alone
Like me
I’m my least favorite too
And I just slapped myself
My cheeks burn
And I want someone to reach out and stop me
But no
I’m just so utterly
Alone
Alone
Alone

We all have inner and outer lives.
They’re messy, hopelessly intertwined, and more
than mere mannequins to hang our word-art upon.

I’m supported, in my unwritten life, by a structure
of moods, both affine and counter-expressive. I’m,
in turns, a tightly wound vagabond, an over-busy,
fretful, unhappy liar (for what I will not share) and
a happy, truthful mess (for what I may overshare).

My outer-life is largely academic, and turned with
complete absorption to task, I plow thru the
needed assignments, like a caffeine fueled machine,

You might rightly call outer-me boring. I get it, for
nothing much happens beyond study and life’s
usual maintenances.

But my inner-life is full of action, if desires,
dreams, and internally ranting against the injustices of youthful separations can be rightly called actions.

Of my boyfriend, the world contains not one parallel.
He overshadows the few others I’ve ever known.
His masculine elements turn me all the way up,

He knows my petty vanities and most of my weaknesses. If he doesn’t know my every phase of feeling, or every desire of my love starved soul, it’s because our love is peripatetic.

Most of the year, we’re a long distance, digital, practical nothingness, A near autofictional anticipation. We are separated by a sea and more. If I may simply put it, I have a fine young body that is going to waste.

When I complained to my older sister, a surgeon who long delayed her own personal life for her career, she shruggingly and unsympathetically said, “You only have to suffer a few more years.”  
“Oh, mon Dieu!” I replied.
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positions by Ariana Grande [E]
34+35 (Remix) by [feat. Doja Cat & Megan Thee Stallion] [E]