bellowing soft, whispering roar
barely untossed, i think i need more
betting on the wind
think i can ascend
an all-together blend
these lessons will rescind
on messages i press send,
you might hear i like a benz
i'm caught up on the trends
except that i don't have friends
that will be there for my mend
they let me go out on these bends
think about yourself, and pick up a pen
write what you want to do moving forward,
what you gonna do to try to make it happen, how, and when
you wanna know what i did to make this all happen?
i listened to the wind
- naw, lemme think about it -
i might need to go back again
i chase after guys who look like fukn ken
but you know how i really like my men?
chubby, pepperoni nipples and barely five foot ten
i should really lay off all this zen
cause i'm flighty like a wren
-asking if i bite? ooohh, i think i can -
i'm not looking for a man
unless we're getting really tan
on a coast or an island
to watch me play volleyball in the sand
think you know me? ya i'm trans
yeah, i wasn't born a man
boosting up testorone, bumping down estrogen
genderfluid, really, i would prefer if you call me them
i swear on satan by it, written here in this hymn
-y'all my weed is busted, i'm still still picking out all the stems -
think about yourself, and pick up a pen
write what you want to do moving forward,
what you gonna do to try to make it happen, how, and when
you wanna know what i did to make this all happen?
i listened to the wind
i barely eat now and i'm never on a cleanse
i've been a server, dog, please stop taking all my pens
i'm barely a four cause i got the baby face, what the hell is up with all the tens?
i believe in karma, dog, so when will i start paying for all my sins?
i'm pretty sure i'm empath, cause when we're chillin, man i always got a sense
stop projecting your bullshit, cause you making me tense
man i hella miss the water, i swear i swim with fins
unless it's open water, then i'm sinking in
i think i need some water, i think i got the spins
life is all a game that we're dying to win,
before you out a friend, or go smokin in,
take the time to ask, where did this all begin?
think about yourself, and pick up a pen
write what you want to do moving forward,
what you gonna do to try to make it happen, how, and when
you wanna know what i did to make this all happen?
i listened to the wind
lemme scream wingapo daddy while we paint with the colors of the wind
seize the day if you type a text, just press send
i've had my heart broken too, just like you, i'm always on the mend
please hit me up if you think we be more than friends
but don't be afraid to tie me up and put me in a swing
i'm lookin for more than just a ring
i'm lookin for my eternal king
someone who i love, who is my everything
But like lizzo said i have everything inside of me
i am the king of me
i differ drastically
i'm so dramatically
mad at everything
you are my everything
i'm living here post-traumatically
please don't be mad at me
you're so drastically
boring me
i'm trying to live poetically
fuck living conservatively
y'all are ruining everything
i can't stand our economy
but it's still a part of me
i hope i please you aestethically
i don't want a wedding registry
just take me out fukn thrifting
let's go out drifting
or maybe sand sifting
fuck, just be interesting
don't forget that wedding ring
i'll be your wettest daydream
and you'll be all i see
if you play ping pong, boy please
i'll beat you two out of three
support your local bumblebee
don't cut down those trees
i can't stop yelling
treat your kids ethically
don't do meth, smoke trees
let your body fly, let your soul out to breathe
don't be afraid and always listen to your dreams
never tell that there's something up your sleeve
i'm bad at staying, gettin good to sensing when to leave
always lost playing in the land of make believe
Monday, August 26, 2019
Tuesday, August 20, 2019
knife pretty
reddit writing prompt pt. 1
He stares out of the window, head in hand, as he hears snickering behind him. Joey's probably made some hilarious comment about Mr. Davidson's bald head again. Or maybe this time it's about his front-creased khakis. Maybe even something about the mysterious stain perched right over where Cody imagined his left nipple to be. It was probably perky, maybe had little brown hairs curling from pink flesh around it...
"...end up like Cody over there, brain cells bonged away, staring out into God knows, oh thank you for joining us Mr. Jones! I thought I had lost you to the pot gods above." The balding man chastised over the chortles of Cody's classmates, looking pleased with himself.
"You don't haffta be a dick about it." He grumbled, dramatically opening the thick textbook on his desk so the cover hit with a whap.
"As well as I'm sure that terminology would go in Principal Livingston's office, if you had been paying attention you would realize we're taking a break from the book today to do an exercise in self-reflection."
"I think your mirror's broken, doc." Mindy Richards called from the back, smacking her gum as she twirled a dreadlock around a perfectly manicured nail.
"A doctorate? Me? I'm flattered, Ms. Richards. No, today I'm asking you to look inward. Look at that place within yourself, the one that asks if you really want to send that third unanswered text or if you even like that coffee shop you've been to a million times." He was starting to walk around the classroom, glancing over shoulders and snatching phones when students weren't quick enough.
"We all have a chance to better ourselves and it's only through constant awareness that we can do that." He paused for dramatic effect and turned suddenly, slamming his hands on poor Cole Anderson's desk to roar "Constant Vigilance!" accidentally spitting on the poor redhead's glasses.
There was a long pause through the room as everyone shifted uncomfortably.
"Oh, what, like you guys haven't seen Harry Potter?" Mr. Davidson's face blushed a faint red. " Yikes, tough crowd.." He turned to fiddle with papers on his desk as students began giggling behind him.
"Today, class, we're going to take some time to reflect," He passed four stacks of papers to the students in the front row. "Your assignment this week is to write a letter to yourself. Think about what you're going through this week. Think about things you want to remind yourself of, maybe even ask yourself some questions. This assignment is about finding out who you are." The bell rang just as Mr. Davidson was inhaling for the big "be yourself" speech.
"Please, please try to take this one seriously, guys." He's trying to holler over the scraping of chairs and zumping and zippers. " Yes I will know if you faked it, yes I absolutely read every little assignment you turn in and yes, I realize you met the word requirement, Mr. Ponder but inserting the word 'booty' every fourth word after the first page doesn't exactly explain The Things They Carried quite well enough. Get me that rewrite by Monday."
The students had mostly filtered out, through there were always stragglers who struggled to put books in their bookbags. Cody Jones looked confused, as if he had been snapped out of some trance and he suddenly had to relearn how to use his limbs.
"Are you alright Cody? I didn't mean to sound harsh today, I thought we were having fun."
The teenager shrugged, shoving his math textbook aside so he could shove the papers in. He made a show of stuffing them to the bottom of the bag. "I don't really give a shit, I don't even smoke." He zipped up his bag and threw it on his desk so he could glare defiantly over the straps.
Mr. Davidson's eyebrows shot up and he licked his lips nervously. "I'm so sorry, Cody, I really didn't mean-"
He was already on the way out the door, calling over his shoulder.
"Oh, and Moody only says 'constant vigilance' in the books, ya fucking nerd."
xxxxxx
He stares out of the window, head in hand, as he hears snickering behind him. Joey's probably made some hilarious comment about Mr. Davidson's bald head again. Or maybe this time it's about his front-creased khakis. Maybe even something about the mysterious stain perched right over where Cody imagined his left nipple to be. It was probably perky, maybe had little brown hairs curling from pink flesh around it...
"...end up like Cody over there, brain cells bonged away, staring out into God knows, oh thank you for joining us Mr. Jones! I thought I had lost you to the pot gods above." The balding man chastised over the chortles of Cody's classmates, looking pleased with himself.
"You don't haffta be a dick about it." He grumbled, dramatically opening the thick textbook on his desk so the cover hit with a whap.
"As well as I'm sure that terminology would go in Principal Livingston's office, if you had been paying attention you would realize we're taking a break from the book today to do an exercise in self-reflection."
"I think your mirror's broken, doc." Mindy Richards called from the back, smacking her gum as she twirled a dreadlock around a perfectly manicured nail.
"A doctorate? Me? I'm flattered, Ms. Richards. No, today I'm asking you to look inward. Look at that place within yourself, the one that asks if you really want to send that third unanswered text or if you even like that coffee shop you've been to a million times." He was starting to walk around the classroom, glancing over shoulders and snatching phones when students weren't quick enough.
"We all have a chance to better ourselves and it's only through constant awareness that we can do that." He paused for dramatic effect and turned suddenly, slamming his hands on poor Cole Anderson's desk to roar "Constant Vigilance!" accidentally spitting on the poor redhead's glasses.
There was a long pause through the room as everyone shifted uncomfortably.
"Oh, what, like you guys haven't seen Harry Potter?" Mr. Davidson's face blushed a faint red. " Yikes, tough crowd.." He turned to fiddle with papers on his desk as students began giggling behind him.
"Today, class, we're going to take some time to reflect," He passed four stacks of papers to the students in the front row. "Your assignment this week is to write a letter to yourself. Think about what you're going through this week. Think about things you want to remind yourself of, maybe even ask yourself some questions. This assignment is about finding out who you are." The bell rang just as Mr. Davidson was inhaling for the big "be yourself" speech.
"Please, please try to take this one seriously, guys." He's trying to holler over the scraping of chairs and zumping and zippers. " Yes I will know if you faked it, yes I absolutely read every little assignment you turn in and yes, I realize you met the word requirement, Mr. Ponder but inserting the word 'booty' every fourth word after the first page doesn't exactly explain The Things They Carried quite well enough. Get me that rewrite by Monday."
The students had mostly filtered out, through there were always stragglers who struggled to put books in their bookbags. Cody Jones looked confused, as if he had been snapped out of some trance and he suddenly had to relearn how to use his limbs.
"Are you alright Cody? I didn't mean to sound harsh today, I thought we were having fun."
The teenager shrugged, shoving his math textbook aside so he could shove the papers in. He made a show of stuffing them to the bottom of the bag. "I don't really give a shit, I don't even smoke." He zipped up his bag and threw it on his desk so he could glare defiantly over the straps.
Mr. Davidson's eyebrows shot up and he licked his lips nervously. "I'm so sorry, Cody, I really didn't mean-"
He was already on the way out the door, calling over his shoulder.
"Oh, and Moody only says 'constant vigilance' in the books, ya fucking nerd."
xxxxxx
Sunday, August 18, 2019
pestilence
his lips are becoming dryer by the minute. the ceiling fan whirs overhead, a steady knocking that keeps the beat going in his head. his foot has begun to tap, hesitantly, against the stiff pedal underneath the arch.
he couldn't have known this was what was happening today but he silently cursed himself for the twelfth time for wearing long sleeves. His arms were whirring and lashing, dark bolts of lightnings crashing into rocks that cried out in reply. Though sweat beads off his forehead and drips to the ground regularly, - he's tried to angle his head down so most of it hits the floor but he's definitely christened at least all of the drums thus far - he's yet to feel tired. The energy is surging through him with no remorse and he does not know if he can see himself stopping anytime soon.
The beat has consumed him, and he has gone so willingly. His body is changing now, starting with the outline of where he should be existing.
"...Monty? Monty, are you okay man?" The petite redhead that'd been dooteling on the keyboard was staring at him, squinting as she started to move off the bench.
"Yo, yo he does not look good yo, y'all need to give the man some space. He's just feelin' the beat, let em jam, yo."
"Splint, he looks like he's fuckin' fading in and out. Not like your kind of faded, but literally we need to tether him down before he gets out."
"What the hell're you talking about? It's just the lighting effect." An annoyed voice chimed in, pulling the strap of the guitar over her head. "I set it up this morning while you bozos were sleeping off a hangov- oh, I'm sorry, honoring your moon godess."
"Wow, now that just seemed a little crass and specific, can't we all agree?" Rigsby glanced around at his fellow bandmates for a quick nod of heads before turning back to the frowning Virgo. "I'll take that apology whenever you're ready and there's no way it's a lighting effect! Look at his fuckin' b-"
They stood together for a moment, staring.
"Well fuck me with a chainsaw, I guess you were right Rigsby."
he couldn't have known this was what was happening today but he silently cursed himself for the twelfth time for wearing long sleeves. His arms were whirring and lashing, dark bolts of lightnings crashing into rocks that cried out in reply. Though sweat beads off his forehead and drips to the ground regularly, - he's tried to angle his head down so most of it hits the floor but he's definitely christened at least all of the drums thus far - he's yet to feel tired. The energy is surging through him with no remorse and he does not know if he can see himself stopping anytime soon.
The beat has consumed him, and he has gone so willingly. His body is changing now, starting with the outline of where he should be existing.
"...Monty? Monty, are you okay man?" The petite redhead that'd been dooteling on the keyboard was staring at him, squinting as she started to move off the bench.
"Yo, yo he does not look good yo, y'all need to give the man some space. He's just feelin' the beat, let em jam, yo."
"Splint, he looks like he's fuckin' fading in and out. Not like your kind of faded, but literally we need to tether him down before he gets out."
"What the hell're you talking about? It's just the lighting effect." An annoyed voice chimed in, pulling the strap of the guitar over her head. "I set it up this morning while you bozos were sleeping off a hangov- oh, I'm sorry, honoring your moon godess."
"Wow, now that just seemed a little crass and specific, can't we all agree?" Rigsby glanced around at his fellow bandmates for a quick nod of heads before turning back to the frowning Virgo. "I'll take that apology whenever you're ready and there's no way it's a lighting effect! Look at his fuckin' b-"
They stood together for a moment, staring.
"Well fuck me with a chainsaw, I guess you were right Rigsby."
wrecking ball
Just when you thought you had escaped your past, catapulted into something new, and generally started making better for yourself...
eventually, you have to return home.
it should be a good thing, right? seeing all the old friends who never bothered to leave, revisiting old teachers to tell them you did absolutely nothing with the education they provided, or even seeing which of your favorite restaurants from your childhood have been torn down to make way for the newest vape shop.
it shouldn't feel like such a chore to laze around my parents three story house, spending however much time i want creating new things or reading, mostly uninterrupted. i shouldn't feel like a guilty worthless sack of spineless arthropods wiggling around in a human flesh sack. i shouldn't feel more comfortable sober dancing in the middle of a room full of strangers than sitting in the same room with either of my parents.
i don't mean to feel these things, but i do.
eventually, you have to return home.
it should be a good thing, right? seeing all the old friends who never bothered to leave, revisiting old teachers to tell them you did absolutely nothing with the education they provided, or even seeing which of your favorite restaurants from your childhood have been torn down to make way for the newest vape shop.
it shouldn't feel like such a chore to laze around my parents three story house, spending however much time i want creating new things or reading, mostly uninterrupted. i shouldn't feel like a guilty worthless sack of spineless arthropods wiggling around in a human flesh sack. i shouldn't feel more comfortable sober dancing in the middle of a room full of strangers than sitting in the same room with either of my parents.
i don't mean to feel these things, but i do.
Thursday, August 15, 2019
messed
aren't you supposed to be responsible for what you say?
aren't you supposed to take care of business before going out to play?
why did you sneak around?
why did you lie about being late?
so you could smile at me again?
and keep looking at me that way?
how was i supposed to be?
just casually baring my soul?
telling you how we could be?
as if it were my goal?
aren't you supposed to take care of business before going out to play?
why did you sneak around?
why did you lie about being late?
so you could smile at me again?
and keep looking at me that way?
how was i supposed to be?
just casually baring my soul?
telling you how we could be?
as if it were my goal?
basted, battered, and fried?
gasping and stretching
for just a little breath
not quite sure
what to handle next
there's no agenda
no timeline,
no way to key track
no fine line,
no autotune,
no way to check facts.
it's now or never,
b i g b o y
you must now
take the plunge
better hope your face
squeaks through
and your secrets expunge
thrown out in the open,
your passions laid out bare
please, come one! come all `
check out this county's fair
for just a little breath
not quite sure
what to handle next
there's no agenda
no timeline,
no way to key track
no fine line,
no autotune,
no way to check facts.
it's now or never,
b i g b o y
you must now
take the plunge
better hope your face
squeaks through
and your secrets expunge
thrown out in the open,
your passions laid out bare
please, come one! come all `
check out this county's fair
sunflower,
i couldn't stay away
i tried and i tried
this pied piper has to pay
before he can go roll the die
i tried and i tried
this pied piper has to pay
before he can go roll the die
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