She fucks hard. Like the world is ending. Because for her it always is. Ending. She fucks hard. Like God isn't listening. Because he never has.
Dead skin loses her in the twilight. Grim patches of sand in a tempest of sun. One great stark yellow eye staring. Unblinking and distant. One impossibly large grave. To hold it all. Every grin and tear. Every shout and whisper. The whole world coming off in a series of broken masks.
She wears her lovers like costumes. Each one for a different occasion. Delicate kisses in deep dark places. Her touch is manic. Frantic with the need for pleasure. Her lips are glass. Smooth and reflective. Her desire is infectious.
She fucks hard. Like she wants to feel something. But doesn't.
She fucks hard. Like there's no one there. Because no one is.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Edible Bones
Poetry Labels:
God
God comes in so many guises. It's difficult to discern the imitators from the real thing. Especially since you know, there is no actual god.
It's sad. So very sad. That human beings are such a weak and helpless animal. That they need a magic man in the sky to make their life worth living. Not that I can find a reason to live otherwise. But I am willing to admit, there isn't one. Am resolved to the cold, hard fact, that well, we're nothing more than sardines. Tightly packed inside this tin foil container we call Earth. Not very tasty, but doomed to be devoured nonetheless.
Heaven is the same as any fairy tales. Little girls and their sordid dreams of being princesses. Something left over from when the colonies were still under the rule of England.
I'm fine with life having no meaning. That's all it's ever had. Those who aren't need to seriously examine themselves. Magic men with long beards living in the clouds are not the answer.
the world is a cold, hard place to live. It's bright and fierce and crass. Religions attempt to soften that stick. But beaten with it you'll still be. Whether you view it as a mercy or a punishment is up to you.
but god, well, even if he did exist. to satisfy your need for an eternal father figure. well, even if he were real, i doubt he'd love you any better than the father the earth has provided.
religion loves to tell you how special you are. that's how it's lasted all these years. making the insignificant feel important. that god is listening. but the reality is, even is there were a god, which there isn't. but even if there were, he'd have better things to do.
the fact is you don't really matter. and you're not special.
you're just one in a long array of insects. stranded on a leaf that's doomed to wither.
It's sad. So very sad. That human beings are such a weak and helpless animal. That they need a magic man in the sky to make their life worth living. Not that I can find a reason to live otherwise. But I am willing to admit, there isn't one. Am resolved to the cold, hard fact, that well, we're nothing more than sardines. Tightly packed inside this tin foil container we call Earth. Not very tasty, but doomed to be devoured nonetheless.
Heaven is the same as any fairy tales. Little girls and their sordid dreams of being princesses. Something left over from when the colonies were still under the rule of England.
I'm fine with life having no meaning. That's all it's ever had. Those who aren't need to seriously examine themselves. Magic men with long beards living in the clouds are not the answer.
the world is a cold, hard place to live. It's bright and fierce and crass. Religions attempt to soften that stick. But beaten with it you'll still be. Whether you view it as a mercy or a punishment is up to you.
but god, well, even if he did exist. to satisfy your need for an eternal father figure. well, even if he were real, i doubt he'd love you any better than the father the earth has provided.
religion loves to tell you how special you are. that's how it's lasted all these years. making the insignificant feel important. that god is listening. but the reality is, even is there were a god, which there isn't. but even if there were, he'd have better things to do.
the fact is you don't really matter. and you're not special.
you're just one in a long array of insects. stranded on a leaf that's doomed to wither.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Lullaby
she pinches god. as he sleeps beside her. snoring loudly. she wonders what he dreams. if he fucks. and how hard.
she tries to wakes him from his slumber. but he doesn't stir. she tries to imagine his nightmares. what would frighten him. how small a thought it would have to be. the absence of heaven. anywhere other than drugs. the similar location of any place one would call hell.
she listens to him breathe. the frail stumble of unconsciousness as it makes him as small as she is. as any person. cleft to the fist of the moon. distant stars like fallen soldiers. in a war that is never won.
the thick grip of a darkness that can't be penetrated.
and the whims of the god arrogantly dreaming us.
she tries to wakes him from his slumber. but he doesn't stir. she tries to imagine his nightmares. what would frighten him. how small a thought it would have to be. the absence of heaven. anywhere other than drugs. the similar location of any place one would call hell.
she listens to him breathe. the frail stumble of unconsciousness as it makes him as small as she is. as any person. cleft to the fist of the moon. distant stars like fallen soldiers. in a war that is never won.
the thick grip of a darkness that can't be penetrated.
and the whims of the god arrogantly dreaming us.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Running Errands
Thanks for the article from Robin Woodard
I have so many errands to run today, that I don’t know how I am going to get everything done. Life is so crazy when you have four kids all in elementary school. I have to find a way to do everything while the kids are at school, and that has become a challenge since I’m working part time now. First, I have to go to TVByDirect.com and upgrade our Directv package. My husband insists that we need more channels in order for him to stay sane while we’re all at home together. Then, I have to go get new school uniforms for the kids. They have grown out of or destroyed every single piece of clothing they have, and we’re only halfway through the school year. The last thing on my list is to call the gardener and have him come out and landscape our yard. This winter has been so warm that our yard is overgrown! After dinner, when all of the kids are in bed, I hope I have enough energy to hang out with my husband and have a nice glass of wine.
I have so many errands to run today, that I don’t know how I am going to get everything done. Life is so crazy when you have four kids all in elementary school. I have to find a way to do everything while the kids are at school, and that has become a challenge since I’m working part time now. First, I have to go to TVByDirect.com and upgrade our Directv package. My husband insists that we need more channels in order for him to stay sane while we’re all at home together. Then, I have to go get new school uniforms for the kids. They have grown out of or destroyed every single piece of clothing they have, and we’re only halfway through the school year. The last thing on my list is to call the gardener and have him come out and landscape our yard. This winter has been so warm that our yard is overgrown! After dinner, when all of the kids are in bed, I hope I have enough energy to hang out with my husband and have a nice glass of wine.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
substance abuse
Poetry Labels:
salvation
religion is a drug and the majority of the world is addicted.
a planet full of junkies. every one of them terrified of reality.
that they aren't special. they don't matter. and they will die.
and no one's listening.
a planet full of junkies. every one of them terrified of reality.
that they aren't special. they don't matter. and they will die.
and no one's listening.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Revelations
people are an epidemic. a mutagenic virus destroying everything in its path.
people have two choices. become herbivores or have less people.
I'm in favor of less people. there are far too many of us. you can start with eliminating me. I don't mind.
but that fact is we are a pathogen. a virulent disease that has infected the globe. there are too many of us. and we continue to spread. at an alarming rate. devouring everything in our path.
history waits lifetimes for moments like this. hundred year or more moments when fate is decided. adapt or become extinct.
good luck to the meek machines that will inherit the earth from us.
humanity is the disease. everything else just symptoms of the plague.
people have two choices. become herbivores or have less people.
I'm in favor of less people. there are far too many of us. you can start with eliminating me. I don't mind.
but that fact is we are a pathogen. a virulent disease that has infected the globe. there are too many of us. and we continue to spread. at an alarming rate. devouring everything in our path.
history waits lifetimes for moments like this. hundred year or more moments when fate is decided. adapt or become extinct.
good luck to the meek machines that will inherit the earth from us.
humanity is the disease. everything else just symptoms of the plague.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Effects and Causes
he listens. seldom speaks. a broken toy. a rusted zipper. at the back her dress. a closure she can't quite reach.
it's not close. it's not distant. rather somewhere inbetween. time in graveyards. the minutes in eulogies. the dead can lie and say they've heard him. but the living know he's deaf.
she trains her faith on tomorrow. crooked smiles work the levers. blind eyes draw the maps. as she weighs. the empty baskets she still carries.
the perpetuity of god lies in the morality of men.
it's not close. it's not distant. rather somewhere inbetween. time in graveyards. the minutes in eulogies. the dead can lie and say they've heard him. but the living know he's deaf.
she trains her faith on tomorrow. crooked smiles work the levers. blind eyes draw the maps. as she weighs. the empty baskets she still carries.
the perpetuity of god lies in the morality of men.
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