Category Archives: Poetry

Stupid Addictions

I promised honesty. The following is something between a poem and a journal; it’s how I sort out my thoughts. I have pages of this type of thing stashed away, little mental snapshots of who I was that day.

Don’t be fooled when you read it: it sounds like I’m hugely popular. Really I’ve only had a handful of likes and it’s already breaking me! I find myself getting obsessive, checking back, checking back again. I do the same thing with Facebook. Microrewards for each action (e.g. ooh, another like!) are causing my brain to spiral into an obsessive loop. Aren’t humans crazy? I think I’ll take a break for the rest of the day.

 

A nectarine in my palm

The smell is sweet, sour, tangy, floral

It makes my mouth fill with anticipation

The skin is soft; like human skin

Cool to touch

Heavy with moisture

A baby tree inside

It’s so alive

I want to bite it

Oh how I want to bite it

Take its life for my own

Every act we make

Is an act of destruction

There is no peace

 

This blog is already breaking my tao

What a fragile thing peace of mind is

Likes and follows haunt me

Opinions like a hurricane

And I find myself thinking,

Is this good enough

Can I please them?

 

I’ve got to get it out of me

I can find my peace again

I can blog and find my peace

It’s a level up

Not worrying about notoriety is easy when you’re unknown

It’s easy to be vulnerable

Where no one can see you

I can’t hide

If I hide I go backwards

I must maintain stability of mind

I must remain empty

Because when you let yourself fill up

You are no longer useful

Rain poem

What is it about the rain.

Maybe because it is the only thing left that man cannot touch.

Its anger may kill us

and there is nothing we can do.

It makes one feel small

to know the rain,

the lightning, the thunder.

The largeness of it all

envelops the sun

until even the tallest building

casts no shadow.

 

Everybody runs from the rain.

Everybody hides.

The ones who embrace the rain are anomalies.

To stand in the rain

is to stand alone.

There is a stereotype that these are the ones who know how to live.

No. These are the ones who turn to embrace

their own destruction.

And in doing so,

they live more brightly.

Under the flickering lightning

only they

cast shadows.

Poem #45263562

How to Blog

 

First you go through a lot of work to make a website

Then you realize you have no idea who you are

And it takes a sense of self

To blog

Whoops

All that working on being Tao

All that losing the ego

Is strangely detrimental to blogging

Blogging is about throwing your opinions around

Blogging is about knowing

Blogging is about showing off

Blogging is about trying to change the world

Well

Fuck that shit

This blog means nothing

And maybe that way

It’ll be a little bit nicer than most

 

That’s my hope

Oops I accidentally hoped.

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