Noir, a haiku
my world holds a truth
black and white; or right and wrong
hinge on intention
Shadows, a haiku
Form, inseparable
from its shadow, dark, which is
dependent on light
Rainbows, a haiku
dependent effect
light, water and cloud appear
seven colours clear
Noir: A small collection of spilled ink pieces, photographed on a sunny day
(alternative title: Self-Assessment)
I think my leg would make a nice lamp
soft, supple, curved, and round
a good squeeeeeeze
if you look me up from down
squish in the right place –
and in the wrong
in front, a bright and lumpy face
from behind, like every other PAWG
near-perfect ass – not too phat in size
nicely shaped when I fold in half
showing off some thick-ass thighs
and big-ass ribs
an hour glass shape
with small-ass tits
deceiving, yes
disappointing, almost entirely
but most aren’t interested
in being surprised or disappointed
and so I’m left here unanointed
unbaptized but virginal – ah! a wish!
almost believable, but deceitful kiss
when every swing returns a miss
except for the three, a perfect strike-out
who pitched to me? and filled me with doubt?
I think my arm would make a nice branch
muscular, freckled, smooth, and strong
nice to tooooooouch
to whom does it belong?
what soul could search and find
a truly existent body
independent of a truly existent mind?
no one!
could it be a limb to build a nest?
could it be a place of eternal rest?
could these arms wrap you up
and hold you firm?
or tickle-torture until you squirm?
and would you understand
such impermanent nature?
or is your reliance political,
predisposed to legislature?
squeeeeeeze instead
evaluate
and don’t forget
your mind creates
and ever empties your plate
but also fills you up
objectify this human creation
dismantle parts with imagination
for the whole is empty but of name
and our mind is non-separate
we’re almost the same
let last words be of virtue, love
a wish for other’s happiness
and though I fit you like a glove
we play this silly game of chess
you read these words,
you leave them here,
we’re left confused
filled up with fear
and then I pray and dance about
and use this body, to move, to shout
and once again I live so free
to end all fears and misery
all I’ve got’s one disbelief
– how could it be only me?
as in neurochemical warfare
this lack of need arises
I broadcast completeness
even as you redial your radius
do my cells respond differently
on this higher plane of functioning?
am I intimidating in this energy?
here, let me mix my mind with thee
let my coherent electromagnetic field
press through yours, transform the rooms
of your psychic home as I enter, invited
though I lack the vampirism you once desired
I do not fill voids, nor create them
I am expansion, a field of possibility
a humble being, deferential
do I operate in abundance?
yes! I do
do I create your potential?
no! you do
have I stepped into my power?
ever saying yes, ever saying no,
ever acknowledging limitless maybe sos,
feel my field around you grow
let it draw you in, ebb, flow
why resist?
it is not your neediness
this attraction, enchanting pull
it’s purpose and purposeful
in this quantum entanglement,
there is always
fresh opportunity for plentitude
independent growth
creation of abundance
with virtuous oath
see this force of nature and rejoice!
rise to your own highest potential!
no one is responsible for me but me
there is no one for whom I lust or need
a statue of such purity
in body, mind, and speech is she
there is no one to save inside of me
don’t say that would threaten thee
for only strength could be my key
and please do not pretend to be
an interference pattern
to escape the thought of me
and rocket off to Saturn
I do not plan to chase or run
for that is never any fun
I have no need for satisfaction
of temporary yearnings
I find kindness, love, and patience
offer far greater learnings
and yet!
of course if proffered
it certainly would have me hot
not bothered
you want results?
just create causes
that’s what I do!
I show them the receipts
but keep my plans secret too
opt for resilience
growth and independence
never in childishness
except in play, harming none!
so plan to endure my completeness
and come undone!
our mission is not to fill holes or voids
or other tedious contract work
but rather the happiness and joy
of sexy contact perks
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
never clingy, helpless nor hungry
never confusing love and greed
and still if you were simply wondering
I’m definitely a different breed
ever wishing to be free
and still not freed
from this lack of need
it’s early still & even though
I woke up not too long ago
I am spent
sometimes
you gotta turn the crank
before you leave (early work)
so you don’t bathroom yank
like some horny pervert jerk
not me!
I am spent
so now I go to refill my wallet
now on empty, whatever you call it
hours worked for few cents
cuz’ soon I’ll have to pay the rent
still grateful for the place I live
still grateful for opportunity to give
even though it came to this
little morning routine grift
it’s only day’s beginning
my arm’s tired, face is grinning
and I am spent
could it be worth the pain?
sure it could hurt (does hurt)
but it always can! (and will!)
samsara’s blessing, and its curse!
there’s always suffering
it’s always there
agony & heartache
these endless cares
unfulfilled wishes
we ain’t some dying breed
we’ve been wishing and craving
burning with need
since beginningless time
(that’s time without beginning)
we’ve been lost in self-grasping
our delusions are winning
then enter love, a virtue
not some object of wanting
but a wish for your happiness
not taking, not haunting
like once, a vampire sucked
my energy, my time, my luck
even when I yearned to fuck
he made me feel yuck, yuck, yuck
no more! I just yearn to give
I wish to love, to laugh to live
and even though I know it hurts
I just think it could be worse
so I’m willing to try and bear such pain
I’m even willing to go insane
(okay, never mind…I’m already there)
and I really wish I didn’t care!
but it seems I don’t have a choice
and I have a lot of choices –
normally – a lot of control
not over external matters of course…
but in this dream world,
control over matters of mind
apparently not matters of the heart
but definitely matters when being kind
alright I want to wrap this up
like a Christmas gift, my loving cup
a trophy that I wish to offer
filled with jewels as if a coffer
and yet, I awaken from the dream
to grasp at less than air between
this reality, mind-made, of you, of me
and now give up the fantasy
because it’s never worth the pain
it’s never worth the endless grasping
it’s never worth insanity
or the infinite, familiar clasping
and on this evening drear and gloomy
under clouds all grey and doomy
I curse my love life, I confess to crime
I accept the loss, and I’ll do the time
Once upon a time
I had another life
I had another job
I was to be a wife
and when the whole damn world
thought to come crashing down
I put on my big girl pants
and turned up my music loud
so this other life dissolved
and that job did disappear
the man was just a con
so I faced the loneliness I feared
what a gift that was
because it led me to this place
where the feeling is familiar
though I’ve met a different face
I thought I’d lost the rhythm
I thought I’d lost the rhyme
but I’ve found the dance again
will you help me keep the time?
I just can’t fight this feeling
I just don’t have the will
you stirred the past in me
and ignited the music’s thrill
and though the past’s behind
and the future’s quite unclear
one thing is for certain
I’m letting go of this damn fear
I recorded the poem Come Together (2021) – check it out on Youtube now, or revisit the original post to read along.
can’t stand
this life on repeat
can’t stand
when past lives meet
can’t stand
a repetitive motion
or this god-forsaken devotion
I can hardly stand so little
that I can barely brag
how I roll with these hard punches
every moment, each goddamn day
yet I can’t really complain
for my path is so pure
I can only rejoice
and slight suffering endure
still if I could
I’d give just one last stand
for a night – or a moment –
of holding your hand
because I
can’t stand
this life on repeat
can’t stand
when past lives meet
& these silly lives just can’t remember
all prior moments tender
and choose to accept defeat
can’t stand
this should be me
Music: “I Turn My Camera On” by Rock Kills Kid
Video & Editing: K. Samways
Am I a menace?
A mara? A demon?
Will no one tell me?
Will they simply write a book about me
after I die?
Or will I be blasted into forgetful oblivion, purposefully?
What delight did I lack, will I lack,
force others to abandon
with my mara-induced delusions?
(autism, they call it now)
refusing responsibility – still!
a demon to this day
poor quality on display
Brother Fabjan, rescue me 🙏
please don’t make a mockery
of my life’s work, of my plays
of my dreadful mimicry,
the plagiarism of youth
in poor taste – ah! I know!
But despondency after death
is a hell realm, and – alas! –
I was merely reborn human
again – ah! But not to torment you
still! A demon you say!
Oh brother Peter Fabjan!
You could not rescue me!
So this lifetime, I turn instead
to a Spiritual Guide,
Buddha Shakyamuni’s continuum,
and, in constant manifestation,
his teachers!
I am grateful, finally,
to shed this shadow of karma
which reeks of dreadful delusion,
this familial mockery, betrayal
– no doubt I returned or would return in kind –
finally, I get to cleanse such evil minds!
Alas! I am grateful!
Thank you, my brother
a memory
it is not mine
upon a log I sit
‘neath the snowy pine
under darkened sky
beside earthen stove
a bitter wind kicks up
in the moonlit grove
the jingle of the horse & sleigh
as it carries him so far away
I cannot weep, I do not cry
a muted heart is breaking
and as the silence lies
a frozen bough is snapping – loud
to crack the quiet
still, expected in the freeze
I do not startle, there is no breeze
no wind at back to impel me
my bones have stiffened here
my mind is anything but clear
as the winter’s solitude
forces delusions rather rude
inner quietude never did follow outer
now it’s simply easier to hear
internal screaming
though the fire burns, continuous
it takes us not
because it cannot reach
what we refuse we got
buried below
alive and dead
some peace & love
blessings bestowed
how are these all stripped from me?
as he plods on down the snowy path
I know he won’t be coming back
so I’m wrecked to watch him leave
though it is not my memory
A Dream:
The King I seek is standing in the sun.
I cannot see his face.
He holds out his hand to me.
In his outstretched palm is a wax seal.
I cannot make out the pressed emblem.
On the tips of his fingers he offers an amber Jewel.
I long to take the Jewel from his hand, but I don’t want to appear selfish. I just feel this offer means so much more. The seal reveals his official business, but Jewel feels like a gift meant just for me. I reach out my hand to touch his.
The King disappears, and I wake up.
Another Dream:
I was sitting on the bank of a river. From a distance, I watched a female oriole weave her nest with dry plants and tree bark. Every so often she would pause and call out to her partner, working at a distance. I moved closer to get a better vantage point. From up close I could see that the lady in orange array had woven lavender forget-me-nots into her hanging home. As she flew off to gather more materials, I stood up and peered inside. I gasped, thrown by what I saw. A window into a deep red world. A ruby hung in the clear sky casting brilliant rays across a crimson lake. A couple cradled in a copper canoe bent in for a kiss. A scarlet glare lights my pupils aflame and, blinking, I wake up.
The Halfwit Writer