Tag Archives: HurtsToPost

Journal – Grace

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When I run out of poetry I just start posting my crazed ramblings.

My personal rule is, if I want to post it, it’s probably well written, and worth posting. If I don’t want to post it, it’s probably true, and worth posting. If it leaves no impression in my mind, it’s probably trash.

So. Here we go again!!

 

 

 

 

Grace
Give me grace
I had it briefly
I had it for six months, twelve months, not enough months
I want it for a lifetime
I thirst for it
Grace
Sweet on the lips and the soul
Cool water
Fresh and cleansing.
I don’t want to forget that happiness

I know how to be happy
It’s an art
A difficult practice and an art
It can be done.
We are fools
We can be worse
We can be better.

My art is improving
I’m starting to see things I like here and there
I’ll never be like my idols
But I can be someone I could enjoy reading.
I need a break
From my own neurosis
It can be done
I’ve done it before
I can do it again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Journal – Jacking trades up

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I am afraid of work. I am afraid of art. I am afraid of failure. I am tired of being hurt by my own inadequacies.
I suck. I have to be fine with this. The only solution is to remain in motion.
Jack of all trades master of none
This is me
But when I dedicate ten years to something
I still cannot master it
I begin to wonder why I came
And why I haven’t left yet

It’s easier to jack trades up
Than it is to master them
A master never actually masters his craft
A master only ever gets good
If you want to lead your field you must dedicate everything
Sacrifice everything
And risk still being outdone by somebody
With easy natural talent
Who is fifteen years old.
Leonardo da Vinci bemoaned his lack of knowledge
On his deathbed he faulted himself
For never having learned it all.
He was a perfectionist
He is the standard for half a millennia
And will be for another millennia more
But even he
Was dissatisfied.
Why do we push ourselves
When there is nothing at the top?
Waiting for us is emptiness
The goal is a hollow point
So what is this drive
This need
This greed
I want to kill it
I want to feed it.
So I fight myself fighting it
And get
Nowhere
On either front.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Siren

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I am a sandy beach.
I am wetwater.
I am alive alive alive
And I don’t care who knows it.
I am flaming red hair and toothy grins and purring cats and silliness
I am a wonderful thing, a thing of veins and blood and bones and wild energy
I am eternal, agnostic, atheistic, apotheostic
Knuckling to the floor
Launching myself at the TV screen
An animal
Just an animal

I sing
High clear notes that pierce
Straight to the heart
Any listener might be deceived
Might think me a tremendous soul
Drawn in by my siren song
Silly fools
Cold crayfish and starfish and seahorses
Canned potatoes and processed cheese
Are not enough to feed a siren.
I need someone with meat and red living flesh
I need something that kicks.
I need you.
I can taste your skin
Sweet salt sweat
I can taste your fear
Like stainless steel
I can taste your groan
It ripples down my throat.
I Iive for this,
Your exquisite death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One step at a time

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Please note this was written on Sunday. I’m fine now… heh.

 

 

It’s coming around again
Pulling me down into the sludge
Remember me, it hisses.
You nearly forgot me.
You thought I was gone didn’t you.
No, it’s never gone.
But I will never succumb to something so vile.
I am stronger than this thing
That lives in my brain.
I am stronger than anything
That might take up residence there.
Everything
On my terms.
I will not let it have me.
I have it
It does
Not
Have me.
I can weather this storm.
I’ve weathered worse.
I’ll probably have to weather worse again.
It’s just another day
And all I really have to worry about
Is the next step.
Brush teeth.
Wash hands.
Don’t let the inertia pull you down.
Fight.
Fight.
Go for a run.
Try some chocolate.
Get up, go to the bathroom.
It’s not hard
But my god
It’s so hard.
Don’t hurt yourself.
Don’t kill yourself.
You are not at fault.
Don’t drug.
Don’t drink.
Write, write, write, write, write.
Go for a run.
It’s okay to order in.
It’s not that hard.
It’s so hard.
But it’s not hard.
Just focus on the next step.
All day I dream of sleeping
All night I dream of sleeping.
Everything is in black and gray.
Don’t cut yourself.
Don’t swerve the car into traffic.
Don’t follow that mental path.
It’s not about willpower
It’s just about impulse control.
We can do this.
We got this shit in the bag.
It might only last a day
If you’re lucky.
If you run.
If you make dinner.
If you get up and go to work.
If you don’t hurt yourself.
If you get some sleep.
If you take a shower.
Don’t count the time.
Every second is a year.
Just focus on
Doing the laundry.
Feeding the cat
Getting the groceries.
You can do this.
Hang on.
You can do this.
Hang on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have tried to be less

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I have tried to be less
I have tried to be small
Hoping that I could
Not exist at all
I’ve pushed all my valiance toward virtue
But fuck it
Purity
Is an illusion
Perfection ever changes
And God
He’s not coming
I will be pitted, defective, mistaken
I will be whole
Unapologetic
Here I stand
Naked, flawed, beautiful, untouchable
No one can hurt me
Because I know who I am

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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