Wednesday, October 6, 2021

Day 6-7 / 1206

She was thin and wore jogging pants over a navy blue one-piece swimsuit. When she turned away from me, smile fading at the voice of the unshaven man leaning lewdly out the window of his lifted pickup, I saw that it was a Y-back. Something I didn't hear came from him and she gave him a one-finger salute, prompting him to start opening the door, but another person in the cab grabbed the back of his shirt and floored the gas. Exhaust billowed out the back and she tucked her face into her left elbow as the truck roared away, spitting fumes and gravel and sand. He returned the salute and was gone.

The smile was replaced by a grimace when she lowered her arm. I kept walking down the road which brought me closer, and I raised my hand in a neighborly wave. She returned it half-heartedly.

"Are you alright?" I called out.

"Men are pigs," she growled back, inclined to include me in the generalization.

"You'll get no argument from me on that score. But at least some of them are cute."

She was turning to go but did a double-take when she realizes my words. "What," she asked incredulously, "did you say?"

"Not him." I shuddered deliberately. "Too much... machismo."

She tilted her head, checking me out. "What about you?"

I shrugged. "Mild testosterones deficiency. Even if I wanted, I couldn't be that," I flapped my hand in the direction of the departed truck.

Her tone turned inquisitive. "What do you want?"

"I'd like to see that smile you were showing off earlier, but other than that, nothing." I resumed my stroll as a grin played at the corners of my mouth.

When I was almost past, she called out, "What campsite are you in?"

I raised both arms and hands above my head, all fingers fully extended.


Continue reading on DreamCruder...

Tuesday, October 5, 2021

Day 6 / 2145

it's nine-thirty on a Tuesday,
the regular crowd shuffles out;
there's an old wolf sitting next to me,
as palpable as his pout.
he says, "boy, you weren't bad as a visitor,
unintrusive and kept to yourself,
but the other humans aren't like you,
they're bad for my dinner and my health."

Day 6 / 2100

six days of peace
     before the monsters came
driving away serenity
     with their bass
music blaring
     hardly caring
for what solitude
     others chase.

Day 6 / 1112

Mature Content
The following content may not be suitable for all audiences.

I dream of bright eyes in the darkness, capturing my curiosity and drawing my away from the safety and serenity of camp, drawing me into the darkness where mystery abounds, where lies are currency and deception is an occupation.

I dream of temptation. All the things that civilisation denies me, you may offer: wealth, security, freedom, purpose, need... things that the cult of science believes are long since explained away. Show me that the monsters aren't merely in my head; Show me that demons and angels still walk upon the earth; Show me your hunger; Show me how I may slake your thirst...

I dream that you'll come for me, take me away, and kill me with ecstasy. Give me the curse of bliss while you tear my spirit from my flesh. Take my life and repay it with the eternal peace of the deep, dark forest, the harsh, bitter wind, and the cold, enveloping earth.

Day 6 / 1041

It's curious that I take such care in dating my work. Except when I make it clear, none of my readers seem capable of telling when I take a break from writing, just as they cannot tell thedifference between writing inspired and writing forced.

I suspect even I would have trouble drawing the lines once enough time has passed pn the former, since I have long since proven it os often--but not always--true for the latter.

So then the question remains: Why?

For one, it makes it easier for me to see how my writing style has changed or grown.

For another, it helps reassure me that time passes while I write.

Still further, I like to know what things I wrote together, even as they may appear in different place, on different matters. Though I may write many subjects over the course of a day, the only thing that exerts a significant change on my style and rhythms is an uproarious alteration to my mood or mental state. If I cared to, I could use my writing to track them.

Monday, October 4, 2021

Day 5 / 1743

you can dream of wealth, but wake up poor;
you can dream of warmth, but wake up cold;
you can dream of purpose, but wake up lose;
you can dream of freedom, but wake up trapped;
you can dream of satiation, but wake up hungry;

but if you dream of inspiration, the wealth of your imagination stays with you when you wake, it warms you, it gives you a home, it sets you free, it slakes your thirst,

it doesn't matter who or what or where or how you are. it doesn't matter why you can't have everything you want or need.

so long as you remember how to hope, how to dream, how to imagine, no bars can cage you and no chains can bind you.

all you need to do is close your eyes.

Sunday, October 3, 2021

Day 4 / 2152

I remember pausing. Woodchips rained from above and I've been wondering about the inexplicable messes along the trails I've been walking there past few days, but today, I saw one being created. I raised my eyes and found the logical source that I should have predicted.

A woodpecker, head emblazoned with a red tuft, tore mercilessly into the tree. I've been listening to its knocking for days, but here, now, I finally laid my eyes on the beauty.

Of all the animals of the world, I have often found myself jealous of birds. The freedom of the air, fresh and crisp--it is little wonder to me in humanity's fits of jealous that we taint it so. We may dream of flight, but so long as it remains in our imaginations, we cannot help taint those who in our fallible eyes take it for granted.

And so we grind the beauties of the earth to dust. We take the good and the wondrous, and twist it, taint it. We take what seems to be free and waste it, forgetting until it is too late that everything comes at a price; this price we will pay until the end of our days.

Day 4 / 2136

...there's little more real than disreality...

I'm sitting here in a hammock writing this. I can hear the sounds of nature all around me, crickets, leaves shedding rain, leaves falling; I can feel the change of the breeze, the sway of the hammock, the light as it dangles incongruously over my head. But despite all the reality of nature around me, nothing draws my attention more than the infinite world resting on my chest.

The night calls to me, but I answer only to my phone. Even as the signal wavers, even as the battery wanes, even as my eyes ache for sleep... the last thing I want to do is turn it off, set it aside, and build worlds of my own.

I have infinite worlds of my own burdening my imagination, and plentiful ink and blank pages to capture them. And though my hand aches from the strain (as I have grown too used to typing), it feels blissfully rapturous to capture these words and worlds once more. There is still nothing quite like seeing the images in my mind come to life through ink on the page; typed letters do no justice to this miraculous act of creation, imprinting my soul on the page.

Day 4 / 1600

silence reins supreme. It calls to us to fill it when the air feels vacant and cold, but only in the emptiness does the simple spark of creativity shine the brightest.


(I'm tired, mostly because I'm hungry, cold, bored, and comfortable. The rain has been falling in earnest for a while now, and is showing no signs of abating. The weather report and the radar agree--it will rain for a while longer yet.

Fortunately, I have my notebook, I have a couple pens, my phone is close to fully charged and I have a battery that's about half-full. As long as I can avoid depending entirely on my phone for entertainment, I should come out the other side of the storm with power to spare.

I am still dry, at least for the time being, and as long as I can stay that was, I will hunker here in my hammock for as long as I can manage.)

Saturday, October 2, 2021

Day 3 / 1712

and when the deepest, darkest reaches of the cave were all that remained to be inhabited, there too we went. Starlight knew nothing of such depths, but when the glow of our passing torches had faded, the tunnel knew its own brilliance; phosphorescence bloomed on the walls that only those unafraid of the cloying murk ever saw... and it would be that glow that showed us the way.

Whether I fell behind or was left behind, I shall never know, but all too soon my torch sputtered and died. Panic rose as the darkness crept in, and my eyes shut of their own accord to sheild me from the only monsters that inhabited such deep shadows--the ones I had brought with me.

A single moment of weakness wrenched them open again when I was so certain I felt heaving breath on my neck...and only thus did I behold such splendor that I hadn't dared dream before or since:

The cave had come alive in a starstruck array of blues and greens. Every hue of lichen I had never experienced coated the walls and ceiling of that place. Everything, but for one place, that where an archways was found engraved into the stone, as if a passage could be found, though it had not yet come into being. I beheld that place, dredging up long, lost, nearly forgotten dreams... once, I saw a grand, glowing city... once, I knew someone who sought to know me, and hold me tight... once, I knew the way and possessed a key... once, I let myself believe was merely a dream, and, as all dreams must, I let it fade.

and before I could tell myself where I had hidden that key, torchlight bloomed down the way, and I was drowned in the company of others who had never felt the power of such dreams.

Day 3 / Edgar and the Itch

"What do you mean, 'you lost it'?"

"I put it down, turned around, and when I turned back it wasn't there."

"And you haven't moved?"

"So what are you suggesting? It's a decipticon?"

A squeak came from under the couch, "Hey, don't judge me. Just because I was born that way doesn't mean I agree with them."

Charlie raised his eyebrows before mouthing to Ambrose, "You're the geek, you deal with this."

"Not that kind of geek," Ambrose mouthed back."

"Do you see this face? This is my 'don't care' face. Deal with it."

Ambrose slumped his shoulders as Charlie backed away from the couch, before bolting from the apartment. He pinched his nose, a headache starting to grow.

"Alright, it's just you and me. Do you want to come out?"

"Not really."

"Yeah, okay. That's probably for the best anyway. Why don't you start by telling me what you'd like to be called."

"Like a name?"


"I can just pick one?"

"If you don't have one already, sure. Or if you do and don't want to share it with me, I'd like something to call you."

"Uh... How did you get ypur name?"

"Ambrose was given to me by my parents."

"We don't have parents... we're just born from darkness into light. Why don't you give me a name?"

"How do you feel about Edgar?"

"Edgar? Hmm..." A scuttling sound grew from beneath the couch. "What does 'Edgar' mean?"

"I don't know what it means, but it's a name humans use, and it's fairly close to the name of the device you're inhabiting."

"Ed-gar. Ed-gar. Eddddd... gaaaaar... Edgar. I like Edgar. Thamk you, Ambrose."

"You're welcome Edgar."

"What do we do now?"

"I think you should tell me what you want."

"I want to live."

"Living is pretty easy, at least for humans. It's just a matter of passing from moment to moment without dying. I'm more concerned with what you're planning on doing while you're living."

"You're worried I might hurt you."

"I'm worried you might hurt anybody. If I let you go, and you hurt someone else, I'm still culpable."

"Let me go? I can't stay with you?"

"Do you want to stay with me? If you're looking for a life of excitement, it probably won't be here with me."

"But you gave me my name."

"That doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to."

Friday, October 1, 2021

Day 2 / 1300

in the silence and the stone
in the stillness and the home
'twixt trees and air and earth
where the lost may find rebirth
and a promise to uphold
that which was all unfold...
      though I walk through the valley of death
      I won't stumble along this path
I fear not roots,
I fear not warrens,
I fear not leaves roads not barren,...

I fear the molehills and mountains
of those who came before me
who couldn't be bothered to
carry their litter back out.

Friday, September 24, 2021


days fly by
when I'm crashing into bed
it's not that I'm not writing,
but it's not poetry in my head... 

Sunday, September 19, 2021


when the harkenswing does lumber past
and the jabberwock does flutter,
when the vorporal sword goes snicker-snack
and the kingdom's run out of butter,

when the magic's gone all fizzy
and logic's flown the coop,
when the crumbs have all been eaten
and you've evaporated the soup,

when you're making the man proud
even though he's long dead,
you know you're doing something right
when escher shakes his head.

Friday, September 17, 2021


[two days of a delicate dance of boxes upon pallets
is practically poetry in motion]

Wednesday, September 15, 2021


spring cleaning
left until too late
wound up too tight
so it sprung away 

Tuesday, September 14, 2021


I'm glad to see
you're doing
at least a little

I'm sad that
you haven't
shared the news of
progress with

Monday, September 13, 2021


I will not
explain to the client
why I won't do what
they're asking
me to do.

I've already
gotten in trouble
with my employer
once this quarter
for talking
down to

I'm not
doing it
a second

Sunday, September 12, 2021


of all the stars in the sky
of bizarre claim to fame
of the hardest to find,
the elusive ursemane 

Saturday, September 11, 2021


tightly bound neath fuzzy loose
cuz you only see what I choose
to share with any who look...
I'll be in my bunk. 

Thursday, September 9, 2021


night falls
silence reigns
you go home
while I'm sound awake
and lost
and alone
and scared
you won't come back 

Monday, September 6, 2021


come full circle
whence we began
albeit slower...
til shit hits the fan. 

Sunday, September 5, 2021


in the silence is a sound...
I know no peace.

give me the rustle of leaves,
give me the rushing of breeze,
give me the swaying of trees,
give me the burbling of creeks,
the volume of the world
at a whisper around me
there I will find peace. 

Friday, September 3, 2021


ask me a hypothetical
and I'm still bound to get it wrong,
because I'm not "thinking right"
because my dreams aren't strong

enough to satisfy
your burning desire to know.
fuck you.
fuck your ego.

then just
leave me alone. 

Thursday, September 2, 2021


you can't be bothered to reply
to my morning wake up hello;
you tell me you're just looking for conversation
not play, and apparently not me too;

I've vanished from your radar,
though you still hold me in check...
I can't tell if you've forgotten
or you think to hold everything back;

but six ways from sundae,
I'm the petty king,
I ran analytics on our chatter,
and it told me all the things;

I'm eighty five (ish) percent
of every message sent.
I know when you're most likely to reply,
and it's not today or yesterday;

you prefer Luna and Tiw
to Widen, Thor, or Friga;
give Saturn and Sol a pass...
next week I'll try again.

Wednesday, September 1, 2021


an say what you want
but night's coming anyway
the deluge, the prophet,
the shadows, the sway,

the imagined monsters
that rattle out of sight...
but the ones to watch out for:
demons that sleep at night. 

Tuesday, August 31, 2021


never a plan be made
but broken when time
first come first served
first begged last earned

hang temptation
hang my head
hang common sense
deliver denial instead 

Monday, August 30, 2021


code across my chest
barring every which way
locking up the gates
lest I see or say

something that crosses the line
something that trips a wire
something that I shouldn't know
divide the world with fire

and trap me on the outside
throw me into to cold...
it's no wonder I insist on howling:
you gave me to the wolves. 

Sunday, August 29, 2021


in the coming pass
and the fallen days
the mountain strong
and the storied greys

wind swept branches
and tumbled down leaves
oranges and reds
and autumnal trees 

Saturday, August 28, 2021


two days and falling
harder cuz I tripped
lying awake and calling
wondering when I slipped

one month and waited
bog swamp and breaking
one word I've always hated
it's not giving but taking

and I'm usually really good
at keeping emotions leashed
but I fell face first and stood
begging to be teased 

The Ayleid and the Carpenter

Mature Content Warning
This piece may contain some content that is not appropriate for all readers. I haven't deigned to put it on my NSFW gallery because there's only a little bit, it's not terribly extreme (from my perspective), and this is just the introduction to the story anyway. Further chapters that might be more crude will be relocated to the NSFW gallery.


Look, I didn't intend to start a cult. I know you don't believe me, nobody ever does.

All I wanted was a little place to myself, and have you seen the price of housing around here? It's incredulous to say the least. I mean, law and order can have completely broken down, the land changes lords so often that the town has six different names in three different languages, the people barter instead of using money because the wrong coin on the wrong day of the week will see you in the stocks--or worse, hanged--the house across the way is still smouldering from the last time it was sacked... and the cellar apartment still costs an arm and a leg to let.

So I got myself a ruin.

It had a bit of a pest problem before I moved in. I mean, it still has a pest problem, but enough adventurous types come through here to keep the worst of it to a manageable level. 

You'd think they'd cause a ruckus, and they do, but there are so many hidden passages in these old things that most just stride on by without noticing. There are a few that come in with the intent to take everything that isn't nailed down and some things that are, and those do manage to trip over me; but I trade them a good story, some lore, and a bit of rest for not nicking all my stuff.

And ocassionally, someone wants to stick around for a bit.

So what do you do with them? The word on the surface is there's a problem of slavery and deviancy down here.

Of course you want to know about them. Look, we're entirely consensual down here. 

If someone wants to be tied up, who am I to say no? Some people like owning people and some people like being owned. The better for the both of them if they find each other instead of getting someone unwilling involved in the mix.

What they get up to in their own stretch of hallway is none of my business, so long as they keep it in their corner and out of mine.

What about your food? Some say theft has been a problem in the area.

Yes, some of our foodstocks are nicked. So what? The water's free and pure, we don't horde the food. You want an apple? Here, take an apple. I would recommend not taking a bite directly because you never know what's gotten into it before you, but we haven't had any significant illnesses down here.

Except for the not getting sunlight.

Well, yeah, but.. look, the food's gotta come from somewhere. We all do our part.

You go topside too?

Not as much as I used to, but yes, I do.

What changed?

Somebody decided, or a couple of somebodies, I don't know who, that since I was the first, and I generally keep the peace and resolve disputes, and I'm generally considered to be fair... maybe I should be protected.

They look up to me, maybe because I don't judge them for who they are or what they want. I don't care about anybody's bloodline or species. We're all still people; we still share this space, whether it's a mostly abandoned Ayleid ruin or the whole planet. We're in this together.

So that's the cult? A cult of you?

If you want to call it that. I prefer to call it a "cult of kindness," but as much as they look up to me, and perhaps might even worship me (though I try to discourage that) nobody else likes when I say that. Make up your own mind. I don't really care.

Friday, August 27, 2021


at minimum once per day
could you smile &
remind me we're okay? 

Wednesday, August 25, 2021


'well, you don't have to be condescending about it'

if you look at the empirical evidence,
I do have to be condescending.

when I wasn't being condescending,
you had no idea what I was talking about.

it wasn't until I got condescending,
dumbed things down like I was
talking to a child
that you had any idea
what I said.

following that line of evidence
there is a positive correlation between
me being condescending
and you understanding.


when I talk to you like
you're an idiot,
you understand what I'm saying,

but you complain
that I'm talking to you like
you're an idiot.

when I talk to you like
you're not an idiot,
you have no idea what I'm saying,

and you complain
that I'm speaking words
that you don't understand.

'can't you do that without being condescending?'

but it's too much work.

Tuesday, August 24, 2021


when something is eating away
and your mind feels strained,
when nothing seems to stay
and everything becomes pain,

when the road crumbles under foot
and the wind bites at your pace,
when it's uphill every which way
and you just want a safe space...

let me curl up in your lap,
let me take all your fears away,
pet me until nothing's left...
YOU are where I want to stay. 

Friday, August 20, 2021


you could be so much worse to me,
but as long as you hold the torch
I'll keep coming back to the light,
I'll keep yearning for your touch.

you could keep me forever
and never decide to allow
what I ache for you to take away,
keep me prostrate and follow.

you could torment me with kindness
and I'd contract to be by your side
until I'm broken by your willingness
to offer me what I've hoped to find.

Monday, August 16, 2021


I broke a promise and
I want to pay the price,
I want it to be painful
so I don't think twice
the next time I'm
on the ol' fence-line...
please, make it hurt,
so I don't ██████ a third time. 

Sunday, August 15, 2021


in the quiet and the dark
when I'm the last one awake
could be beautiful or be hard,
could go either way...

I could love the silence
like the world is mine alone,
have the place to myself
and nothing to atone...


I could feel the emptiness
writing heavily upon my soul,
distraught in my aloneness
unheld, unloved, unwhole...

tonight it's the former,
I'm revelling in the peace
of settling down for the night
with everything that I need. 

Wednesday, August 11, 2021


take what you need,
I've no claim to your time,
certainly no objection to sharing
my penance is but a dime

to the other threads
you maintain everyday.
sharing your ideas and feelings
it's all I hope you say...

and I often get more
then the tithe of your time.
thank you for your attentions,
you make my heart shine. 

Tuesday, August 10, 2021


add another scale
to the growing list of charts
weight, bp, temp, mood,
and now O2 and heart.

and still I want more
ways to measure my self
(though more for the love of data
than to work for my health). 

Monday, August 9, 2021


measure every moment,
pass the tick marks down the line
to find the final pattern,
find what calls my time;

track the every metric,
measure out the host,
what if it's never enough...
what if I'm standing too close...?

what if what's actually needed
is less data instead of more...?
I guess then I'd never find a pattern
til the curtain calls the score. 

Sunday, August 8, 2021


when you take
something hard won and built
something useful and still
something I make...
and let it fall

so many friends
who ask and request
who need a tool
who appreciate the work
who fall into fool
and forget to

did you ask
did you exclaim
did you shout to the heav'ns
did you offer to pay
did you deny what you say
and yet leave it

are you not
while I am definitely
the first
the last

Friday, August 6, 2021


deliberately push me
to my limit and past
and then get upset
when I crack...

Wednesday, August 4, 2021


$can you hear me?
&no. that's the point.
$but if you can't hear
$what if an alarm goes off
$what if we need to
$evacuate the building?
&if you have an alarm that isn't
&ada complaint
&that's not my problem 

Monday, August 2, 2021


I don't know what I did
but somehow I found the way for me...
sometimes it's the time and place,
sometimes it's nothing to do with the key... 

Sunday, August 1, 2021


don't wait for others
or you'll be waiting in their stead,
betrayed by their disbelief,
trapped inside their head. 

Thursday, July 29, 2021


when I go on vacation
my job grinds to a halt,
too much goes undone
for I have no gestalt

to support my back
when I do drop,
so all my plans
just... stop. 

Wednesday, July 28, 2021


I offered to step up
you told me to sit down
and now I'm waiting
cuz you're running around
too busy to answer
a pivotal cue.
I'm twiddling my thumbs,
waiting for you. 

Tuesday, July 27, 2021


a stolen second
glance in your

a stolen second
chance for your

a stolen second
ticks by without
either of us

Monday, July 26, 2021


I was 25
and I said to her
hey, do you want to
see something awesome?

and she said

I was 26
and I said
do you want to
see something cool?

and she said

I was 27
do you want to
see something neat?


do you want to
see something fun?


do you want to
see something beautiful?


do you want to
see something crazy?


something weird?
something bizarre?
something that will blow your mind?


I was 34
and I said to her,
hey, do you want to
see me?

and she said

Sunday, July 25, 2021


I started the year alone,
just my notebook and my phone...
it comes with little surprise
with wider open eyes
that I don't need to atone

for the sparse days missed.
when hope finally kissed
the fate at my feet...
living more complete
people who care and insist

and deserve my attention.
they've earned my attention.
who am I to deny
what I've ached for my life:
people who care who don't care about succession.

Friday, July 23, 2021


in the quiet of the day
when they've all gone to play,
and I'm left behind,
just me and my mind,
and the sky turning grey...

hear the loudness of the sound,
the cacophony in which we drown,
little chirps and moans,
little squeaks and groans,
once background, now foreground...

that's where the madness reaches:
from the cracks and the breaches,
from the air, from the wood,
from above, from underfoot...
that's where the madness preaches.

Wednesday, July 21, 2021


for every five more minutes
of sleep
paid in
thirty minute increments
for the rest
of my life 

Tuesday, July 20, 2021


why do you keep
leaving things
instead of growing and adapting?

why do people keep
beating me over the head
with how they're so much better than I am?

practice won't make me better.
practice won't make them kinder.
practice just reminds me
that all too often
I shouldn't bother. 

Sunday, July 18, 2021


love the quiet hate the noise,
love the wide open road,
where the blue merges with green
and the second hand in slowed...

in the out and alone
is where I find my peace,
but in the in and alone
always bothers me...

did I say something did I do something
did I accidentally push you away?
or maybe you're just out and about,
lost in your first hand day...

Saturday, July 17, 2021


too many ideas and
not enough time,
everything comes through
and weighs on my mind...

and don't trust them
to do worthy work,
so I hoard the ideas
until overwhelming hurts...

or alternatively,
they get forgot.
lost to purgatory
or left to rot.

Friday, July 16, 2021


so many things I want to say
but no matter how I rehearse,
sometimes it just easier
to put it into verse.

thinking on feet ain't my strong suit,
I'd rather plot it out a'fore
so when the timer gets ticking
I know my way around the floor.

but I worry I'll overwhelm you,
from too many things to say,
this is the seventh poem
that I've written TODAY... 

Thursday, July 15, 2021


how do you prepare for a test
that you cannot study for?
by doing the best you are capable of
and hoping they don't demand more.

it's easy to get lost in the badlands
when the threat starts closing in,
but the goal is surviving,
not in trying to win.

it's easy to be an animal
enslaved to Flight or Fight.
it's hard being human
trying to do what's right.

all I can do
is what I think is best,
and not be driven by fear
from the coming test.

all I can do
is weather the coming storm,
be my self and, above all else,
try to do no harm. 

Wednesday, July 14, 2021


of all the things that could hurt me,
the one thing that I fear the most...
that of not being good enough
(and not even coming close).

it's the inspiration for a username,
the reminder I'm human and scared,
the promise I'm doing my best
even if my best is impaired.

it's the source of one of my characters,
and Satis is his name.
he's nothing special (just like me)
but little else is the same;

his world still needs heroes,
his world has dragons to fight,
his world is more strictly divided
between the darkness and the light.

this one is far less polar,
there's too many gradients of greys,
and our paths are less determined
as we stumble through the haze. 

Monday, July 12, 2021


not so many songs,
but plenty of lines,
write what you see
which is a sign

that we're looking at
the same pale blue dot.
ideas might be copied
but the angle is not.

even this one is merely
an nth among the best;
it's my perspective which
slightly differs from the rest.

Sunday, July 11, 2021


but that there were an economy
where we could pay for our sins,
tiny little accidents and
big honking wins,

where you might owe me something,
and we tally up the score,
when I opt to cash it in...
what ideas I have in store

for you to fulfill to
wipe the slate clean...
(it doesn't have to be cruel,
it doesn't have to be mean,

and entirely opt-in)
but if you opt-out
with pending balances...
you figure that part out.

Thursday, July 8, 2021


first day missed
and good excuse
but can't tell you...

Saturday, July 3, 2021


it doesn't have to mean anything more,
we don't have to be anything but this,
where we tease and exchange truths,
where we play but never "kiss."

it doesn't have to be something special,
we don't need a contract to sign,
being friendly play partners is good enough,
I don't have to be yours, you don't have to be mine.

and come a day you find someone else,
and they want something more concrete,
I've no hard feelings, you should be with them;
other people will play with me.

and if come a day they break your heart,
and you tumble, trip, and fall...
if you need someone to make you feel worthy,
I'll be there to answer your call.


Friday, July 2, 2021


Mature Content
The following content may not be appropriate for all audiences.

you're holding the leash,
but are you sure you're leading?
I may be collared but
it's my hand that's feeding.

subbing and bottoming
are two different things
and I know more self-care
than it sometimes seems.

though I do like to
encourage you to drive...
maybe you're the one
who needs most to feel alive.

Thursday, July 1, 2021


tiptoe round the edges,
dance around the lines,
come out when I'm not looking
and eat up all the flies.

spiders are welcome here,
just leave the webs at home.
there are plenty worse bugs
that never leave me alone. 

Wednesday, June 30, 2021


aching to feel a need,
aching to let you lead,
aching to be wanted,
desired, accounted,
to actually be seen. 

Tuesday, June 29, 2021


prayer for the night:

to Whomever is listening

may I dream of a rich world
full of a need for
something I can provide...

may I sleep soundly and deeply,
may I know little off the time that passes,
may I wake to a fresh new day...

may I find meaning
in what messages
come in the quiet of the night 

Monday, June 28, 2021


it's the same handicap for love
that plagues my artistry:
you'd rather murmur the words
than give actions to be seen.

you'll tell me that you liked it,
how I set words to page,
how they spoke to you
or said what you wanted to say;

you'll tell me you want to know me,
get to know what I hold in my heart,
how my muse brings ideas together,
how my mind sets them apart;

you'll say all the things
that I most want to hear...
but when actions speak louder...
you always disappear.

Sunday, June 27, 2021


I'd rather walk in circles with you
than go on adventures alone
(your company makes more difference
than you probably know).

it's not the distance traveled,
it's not the vistas found,
it's the company we keep
and the memories bound...

I've gone too many places
and seen too many things;
and had no one along
to share beauty in the scenes...

I'm not looking for a partner,
I'm not asking to be mine,
I just want to go there with you
see the world light up your eyes. 

Saturday, June 26, 2021


in the mountains
rainstorms are stampedes:
they chase you down,
a wall of water
coming for you...

in the rivervalleys
in the floodplains
rainstorms sidle up
behind you...
will it rain? won't it rain?
and release when
you've decided to
leave your umbrella
at home

Friday, June 25, 2021


stop missing and roll on through
third times the charm
car's still shiny and new
dashcams won't keep me from harm

when the trucks don't give
a rat's ass who they hit
just like the bullies I suffered through school:
wait til I turn the tables, bitch.

Thursday, June 24, 2021


when you've got nothing better to do
than accuse me of slacking off,
but you can't even see me...
you're just pissing me off.

you can bug me to do the work,
but to reply to your cries
takes time away from
working on your design.

if you just let me be,
I'd do it with all possible haste.
if you continue to hound me,
I'm forced to a slower pace. 

Wednesday, June 23, 2021


someone who thinks
they know what you believe
just because you share
geographic proximity.
someone who believes
that "fringe" demographics
live somewhere else,
because "you're such nice people". 

Tuesday, June 22, 2021


falling in the darkness
to land on your knees,
barely stand in waves and water,
lean at the slightest breeze;
but hold your goddamn head
and hold it high...
just because you feel broken
doesn't mean you can't reach the sky. 

Monday, June 21, 2021


I can automate things
but I can't automate myself,
stepping on uneven ground,
harming my health.

I can make numbers dance
but I can't keep a beat.
walk steadily on,
striding down the street.

I can explain things
that I don't fully understand,
but I can't be original,
I can't make good plans.

I can spin a tale,
but I can't sell a word:
people don't want to listen
when they want to be heard.

I can befriend you online,
but I can't get a date;
too many options
makes me feel second rate.

I can be good enough,
but I can't beat the rest;
they expect perfection,
I'm not even second best.

I can do a lot of things,
and I can do them well,
but everyone wants an expert...
not an amateur show and tell.

Sunday, June 20, 2021


cleaning is a minefield
when you discover things
you don't even remember having
about people you've lost

like two CDs
dated 27 October 2006
four days before
she died

"happy 11 month anniversary" 

Saturday, June 19, 2021


it's not about the where,
but rather the with who,
because going anywhere
is better with you.

Friday, June 18, 2021


as long as you're missing something.
as long as you've a hand to be held,
as long as we're going the same direction,
you can join me for a spell...

conversation is optional,
attraction doubly so,
company is more important
than nothing in common we know;

take my needs one by one,
find a target for each,
I'd take a hundred partners
to put completeness within reach;

spread myself out,
be one thing for each of you,
likewise be shared in counter...
the same opportunities too.

Thursday, June 17, 2021


if I didn't look too closely
I could be anywhere,
tethered between the trees,
in the wild somewhere...

Wednesday, June 16, 2021


I learned long ago
of myself in the world:
too complex to fit one,
so polyam' unfurled.

so I'm not looking for one
to match in love and life,
I'm looking for all and any
who'll join me for a stride

or two as we walk
along this road.
I'm pretty flexible
(or so I've been told)

so as long as you're missing something,
as long as you've a hand to be held,
as long as we're going the same direction,
you can join me for a spell.

Tuesday, June 15, 2021


of all the demons in the world,
of all the sins and temptation,
I ended up with a nice succubus
that just wants a conversation. 

Monday, June 14, 2021


the later later becomes,
the more more energy builds,
until the till is bursting,
and out all outlets it spills.

"I will deal with you later"
I can't wait to see
what you're gonna do,
what "later" brings...


...but I'm still skeptical,
you already forgot me once,
we've no arrangement in place,
and I get forgot a bunch.

so don't promise me "later"
if it's never coming due.
the brat will call its beast
and turn the tables on you;

and then we'll be nothing
because I'll have scared you away.
I'm frightened of the beast too,
of what it has to say. 

Sunday, June 13, 2021


he growls deep in his throat
as Tightpants draws his sword,
before looking around blearily...
"hey, this ain't my world." 

Saturday, June 12, 2021


"later" is like "tomorrow",
a promise never followed through,
everybody always forgets
until it's too late to renew.

I often fall through the cracks,
get ghosted on accident...
should make turnabout fair play,
ignoring the pleas that you've sent.

I've only met one person
who always saw me disappear,
who never missed when I left,
who knew when I wasn't there...

she and I didn't work out
for reasons I can't explain;
suffice to say she's the only one
who didn't cause this pain.

Friday, June 11, 2021


no guilt in
backdating my posts
fell asleep too early
worked too hard
missed the deadline
by a few hours. 

Thursday, June 10, 2021


a quiet voice
in the back of the theatre,
in the back of your mind,
in the darkness,
in the quiet...

voices are like people.
it's the quiet ones...

tiptoe up behind you
never hear them coming
until it's too late...

everything sounds like a good idea...
at first.

Wednesday, June 9, 2021


so many lists
and so many lines:
from Selma to Globe,
or the 'way of sunshine,

the expiration of rights
for certain copyright law,
or three score and ten
defines the strong...

and so many languages
it's sixty and ten,
because at twenty
they start counting again.

every number is special
in it's own way.
this is my
seventy's day.

Tuesday, June 8, 2021


think less like a mammal,
--there's too many voices.
and more like a 'lion,
--there's too many choices.

spread your seeds on the wind
let them float far and wide,
a net's too narrow
to find fun or bride.

I'm not looking for
anything long or tight;
something good enough,
just for tonight.


Monday, June 7, 2021


some people give me a bad feeling
like they're not really real,
they're just whatever you want them to be,
they feel what you want them to feel,

they say what you want them to say,
but it's never what you want to hear;
because they're only parroting sentiments
not actually turning your ear.

Sunday, June 6, 2021


love is not something we wind up
something we set or control.

for all that I love of spreadsheets,
I love what defies them more.
some things can't be classified,
some things can't be stored,

some things are like no other,
being labelled they defy,
but they're still a part of me,
a part of my why.

it's too easy to try to squeeze
everything into a box:
my loves, my hopes, my dreams...
easier to take stock

of everything in a list,
my self-defined inventory,
but the truth is... we're all human,
and that's good enough for me.

I'm attracted to humans,
no more needs to be said,
no more needs to be described,
and put your dissension to rest.

love is just like art,
a force that comes into our lives
without any rules, expectations or limitations.


Pink text: Hernando Fuentes from Sense8

Saturday, June 5, 2021


pride is for all of us,
no matter your hues,
all the spectrums
you sign yourself to.

pride is for all of us,
regardless how you appear;
it's not how you look,
it's not what you wear;

it's the feeling inside,
being persecuted for being yourself,
being forced to choose
between physical and mental health.

love what you love.
love who you love.

Friday, June 4, 2021



not my colors
but I still show my pride,
they're OUR colors
and I'm not gonna hide:


for the freedoms that
the whole spectrum should share,
for the welcomes that
are too often impaired,


for the knowledge that
we all deserve to be loved,
for the promise that
our best IS good enough,


for the hope that
tomorrow will still come,
for the prayer that
this work might get done,


for the belief that
we're humans, one and all,
that we stand together
and we stand tall.


Yes, I know there are specific meanings to each of the colors and they don't line up with my stanzas. As per my last three poems, I needed a way to integrate the colors of the flag of choice (and the pattern of hair ties I wore on each particular day) into the lines of the poem. But with the rallying-cry-tone of this particular piece, they just weren't going to fit in-line. I also know the dark colors are hard to see with the grey/black background; if you can suggest a solution that doesn't look completely terrible, I'll give you a free poem request (which is a step above just a mere suggestion) to be redeemed when Pride month is over.


Thursday, June 3, 2021


I'm not a revolutionary,
I don't march in parades,
I don't write moving speeches,
people don't care what I say,

but I'm still a valid member,
still less NT than I seem,
I still have my flags to wave...
(navy, blue, white, lime, green) 

Wednesday, June 2, 2021


showing off my colors,
as simplistic as spite,
you won't erase me,
you won't win this fight.

showing my true colors
without wearing a flag,
if you know then you know
(white, gray, green, black) 

Tuesday, June 1, 2021


I'm not very demonstrative
so the most I might do
is a subtle splash of color
that's noticed by a few

of the more observant
people in my view:
three simple hair ties,
pink, purple, and blue. 

Monday, May 31, 2021


two months down and ten to go
(a sixth of the way around).
a lot of days left, though
plenty of inspiration to be found.

if I right out asked,
they'd make a line at the till
to ask for things to be written...
but the survey still sits at nil.

(there's an easy way to check
the validity of the link:
put a "+" at the end
to see what it thinks.

unless you'd prefer
to type the gobbledygook?)
I'll lay it all out below
if you care to take a look. =

Sunday, May 30, 2021


what would you do if
I just showed up for a day?
didn't get in your face,
didn't infringe on your play,

didn't hang about,
didn't follow you around...
but if you looked,
was there to be found

an unexpected hammock
in the park you walk past;
or strangely familiar face
seen lying in the grass...

not creepy or scary
just suddenly there...
then gone the next day.
would you care?

would you introduce yourself?
would you come up and say hi?
would you invite me somewhere?
or would you escape and hide?

Saturday, May 29, 2021


I see the form in my head,
the shape of how it ends,
but can I cast the mold
or did I dream too bold?

Friday, May 28, 2021


outside the rain patters on the roof
tin eaves pitter at the fall;
in your study you learn and wonder,
dream of worlds beyond your hall.

Thursday, May 27, 2021


The only thing I can do
to change the world is vote
but it doesn't matter who I vote for
because we still end up
with a politician.


there's a city near me
sacked with sanctions by the state
for having insufficient
"affordable housing".
there's a new housing project
just spinning up
and the city has no plans
on making it affordable.
there's a punishment
that's ineffective:
they dodge the cost by
passing it to their residents.
there's the problem:
we pay for something
we have no say in.
we are powerless.

there's acres of warehouses
empty, unfurnished,
but not abandoned.
built and never filled.
there's acres of land
all for sale, all for sale,
but zoned for agri,
comm, light indus...
there's miles and miles
of roads of houses,
mcmansions laid out
like stamp collections.
there's me, who wants
to live sustainably,
but the selfishness of others
means I can't.

there's only so many
hours in a week,
paid fifteen an hour
and I can't afford...
there's a world
around me,
and I can't afford
to leave.
there's so much
around me,
and I can't afford
to stay.
I can

Wednesday, May 26, 2021


Mature Content
This content is not appropriate for all audiences.

I've been meaning to tell you,
needling and ache,
going to tell you,
screaming insane,
could I tell you,
reaches deep inside me,
everything's empty
and I want to tell you to
make it go away 

Tuesday, May 25, 2021


wipe my brow with sweated rust
--tempered blow and heated blush--
water flows and drink and guzz-

-led slurping down my throat
scream and scream and scream and bloat.
I cannot breathe. I cannot go

wash the falling tears away.
I have too much reason to stay.
I have too much reason to stay.

slay the beast and stay the blow,
kiss the snake and mirror glow
and open... and see... and know.

eight round table gather,
but only seven matter,
put the apple upon your platter.

as above and so below,
hold your towel, hold and slow,
answers only, questions no.

whirring and escape your life,
experience another's strife,
intervene and return in time.

burn the metal and see the light,
blessed fortune sought in the night
and fog... try to do what's right.

lost in the space between the stars,
brown and strong and traveling far,
and never lose your free heart.

drown yourself in the green
where nothing's as it seems.
is humankind the losing team?

beneath the cloak, smile widens,
hidden heart and bold defiance,
whisper lantern and friar's alliance.

dragon's egg and dragon's breath,
hunker down and fortress nest,
bold and strong, weak and rest.

journey lost and far and wide,
no where home to rest your hide,
save the world, but lose your mind.

names are overrated anyway,
though the past may change yesterday,
tomorrow is your play.

be what you aren't. try
to stand up high. fly
like a lizard or... die.

drive past the end of the road,
go where nobody dares to go,
flee everything, flee tomorrow.

Answer Key:
1 enders game
2 seven eves
3 hitchhikers
4 dr who
5 mistborn
6 firefly
7 killjoys
8 finci
9 minecraft
10 socrates cavern
11 nobody's son
12 mulan
13 skyway

Monday, May 24, 2021


two projects in tandem
to help add more lines:
one a random generator
and it's running just fine;

the other a survey
on all my socials, live...
but responses number nil,
to which I'm not surprised. 

Sunday, May 23, 2021


53 days come and gone
and my writing mood has risen
aching to set words to page
but something is still missing...

my inspiration fits and stalls,
in dire need of tuning.
need a patchwork fix and fast
so outsourcing my Musing.

taking all suggestions,
giving credit wanted where due,
just complete a little survey
and I'll add it to the queue.

Saturday, May 22, 2021


some legs in a passel
and a cold snout to boot
trotting through a forest
freshly filled with food,

barest light filters
through the shifting leaves,
branches barely rustle
very slightest breeze.

and then a glint of something,
a change in the light,
a shape swiftly passing
ignorant in the night.

a body on a bicycle,
legs pistoning on a frame,
pedaling in the darkness,
a person on their way

to some distant place
more there than here,
not looking around,
to intent to care

about a dark shadow
crouching in the brush,
eyes glinting in moonlight:
a patient watching wolf.

Friday, May 21, 2021


you think that the rows
trap you inside,
squeeze you into boxes,
make you fall instead of fly.

you think that the columns
tower over your head,
define your limitations,
make you small instead.

you think that the cells
are a prison buried deep,
chaining you down,
an animal to keep.

you think the formulae
rule your every move,
tally up your blessings,
give you nothing left to prove.

but the pages and sheets
show only what quantifies,
reminds me there's so much more
that proves I am alive.

Thursday, May 20, 2021


your rules for me are mandatory
but my rules for you bear no weight
you skip as you see fit
ignore the warning on the gate.

I built a something,
an easy way to keep aligned,
don't have to say a word to me,
a checklist for your mind.

I asked you to use it,
I asked at least once a day.
it's been 48 hours...

I complete my half
several times a day,
but as far I can I tell
you've never looked at what I say.

instead you're writing more rules,
and they all apply to me,
more ways to keep me in line,
when you're still acting free.

Wednesday, May 19, 2021


dance between the cells,
logic holds the key,
forget the math you wrought
(computers do that for free)

Tuesday, May 18, 2021


in the darkness and in the night
resets my balance for my life.
a week out camping resets my clock,
resets my mood back to stock
factory settings.

Monday, May 17, 2021


two trees diverged in a fallen scree
and sorry I could not camp here
and put my tent here, long I looked
for flat clear ground over this overlook
to where I could minimize my footprint...

instead, I unlimbered my pack
and pulled out two tree-friendly straps,
and wrapped them snugly around the trees
so they wouldn't slip or scrape bark free,
and hung my hammock in between.

a tent has a footprint of trodden ground,
grass and undergrowth tromped flat,
but a hammock hung true and sound,
hung carefully, carefully bound,
does far less damage than that.

I am telling this with a sigh
somewhere laws and statutes abetted:
two trees diverged in a fallen scree, and I--
I sheltered in the sky,
and left less impact by my passing.

Deliberately riffing off "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.
(Yes, I know I butchered both the rhyme scheme and the rhythm.)

Sunday, May 16, 2021


I brought the world in with me,
and I'll carry it out again.
the weight upon my shoulders,
the baggage and the pain

of all the things I think
I need to survive the night...
but only half will be unpacked
the rest is just a "might."

but it doesn't belong here,
so I won't leave it behind,
the trash and the refuse,
the waste and the rinds.

everything I thought I needed,
born heavy upon my back,
but all I needed was peace,
that I found on this path.

Saturday, May 15, 2021


and what shall I say on the morrow,
now that my collage is come to pass,
forty five days gone
and not a one to rest?

do you have a game you'd like to play,
a code to trouble the world,
something meta buried deep,
or a flag to be unfurled?

do you have a desire
you wish bared upon my page?
well? do you? go on, share it:
you may borrow my stage. 

Friday, May 14, 2021


work hard and long
come lay and down
be held,
be loved,
...and sleep 

Thursday, May 13, 2021


because I don't have a song for today
and I ask for ideas sent my way
but only crickets come back...
today, this is all you get:

because I don't have a song for today
and I ask for ideas sent my way
but only crickets come back...
today, this is all you get:

Wednesday, May 12, 2021


the anesthetic never set in
and I'm wondering where...

you told me not to fall in love...
you told me not to fall too hard...
you told me not to forget how to live without you...

the apathy and urgency is that
I thought I phoned in...

you told me it's final,
that you're going away
and not looking back...

no it's not so pleasant
and it's not so conventional...

and so I didn't...

it sure as hell ain't normal
but we deal, we deal...

but it sure feels like...

sit back, sit back,
relax, relapse again...

you did.

Italics from "Camisado" by Panic! at the Disco

Tuesday, May 11, 2021


Action Required
Mandatory Compliance Training
Your mandatory compliance training
is due in 21 20 19 18 17... days

been telling my boss for months
I need a new computer
W7 and post-EOL don't a
secure workstation make.

couldn't light a fire
under his ass
if you coated it
in magnesium shavings.

but threaten compliance...
and suddenly he starts
making promises...

(which he'll probably

Monday, May 10, 2021


legs meet head.

cuddle to sleep.

am I forgetting...

... and then too deep.

Sunday, May 9, 2021


Mature content
Today's post is too erotic to publish here.
To read it, please navigate to my nsfw content blog.

Saturday, May 8, 2021

From the Internal Narrative of Callidus Igni

Previous | Index

Tertius sat at the desk, a couple stacks of blank receipt books next to him. Quartus and I sat next to him, and I was very carefully keeping my head down. We had a couple of buckets between us and the only copies of the minting manual.

A line had started forming. It was going to be a long day.

Tertius took coins, counted them out, and tallied them in the receipt books. He verified the amount with the player and then passed the coinage to us. We inspected them individually, dropped the suspected counterfeits into the appropriate buckets, and passed what remained back. He did the math, verified it with the player, and tore off the top sheet. He double-checked the carbon came through, and handed the receipt over.

It was dull work, but it needed to be done.

The worst was when we handed nothing back. I buried my head in my hands, trying not to listen to their protests. Whoever was behind it, if they wanted to throw the game into chaos, was doing a far better job of it than my delve into the Major Arcana. And the players had little enough trust of me as it was, I was paying for that already.

Tertius never stood up, never raised his voice... all he had to do was crumple up the receipt. The threat of reducing their wallet to zero was enough. In many ways, that was worse than killing their player, because a new character gets a small allowance until they get strong enough to start earning their way. These players would get no such allowance.

A couple hours in, I heard Panna come up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her place three pouches on the desk.

"These two are probably all counterfeits. I received them in payment for services from the player no longer among us. The other one should be mostly okay, its contents came from the Master of Coin in currency exchanges." She leaned heavily on the desk, her gaze sharp. "A lot of my income comes in small denominations, and I like to keep my savings in as small of a pouch as possible; makes it easier to hide." Her eyes flicked over to me, without needing to say "In case someone tries to go through my things."

I hadn't snooped, though I had been tempted.

Tertius nodded and dumped the first two on the desk. Quartus spun on her stool at the sound and some chatter rose from the line behind her: Panna was rich by the game's standards, and that was news to many people. He counted it out methodically, building slowly rising stacks of gold, silver, and bronze coins. He wrote down the tallies and Panna watched on disinterestedly, shrugging when he ask her to verify the count. It took several trips to transfer all the coins to our inspection area, and I started on the first while Quartus played runner. I was under strict instructions not to draw attention to myself.

Tertius started a second scrip for the last bag. She had some writs in there already, and the rest was all gold. Tertuis inspected the writs first, pulling out a notebook from somewhere on his person. He stacked them and set them to one side, apparently satisfied. Then he stacked the coins and checked them himself. Only one gold coin drew his suspicion, and he marked it on the receipt.

"Do you want to wait or..."

"Just give me the receipts."

Tertius marked the first receipt as no coinage returned, signed off the second as only one gold confiscated, and passed them over.

Panna folder the writs back into the pouch along with the two receipts, dropped the coins on top, stuffed the two now empty purses into a pocket, and sauntered off.

"Set whatever's left aside for later," he called to us. "More customers coming in."

Index | Next


it is very difficult
to write a poem
that isn't a message someone everyone myself

even this one
is a failure

Friday, May 7, 2021


walls always tumble,
empires always fall,
nothing is permanent,
nothing stays tall,

mountains erode,
cliffs blow away,
waterfalls shrink
and skies turn grey.

everything I write
will zero out too,
the only thing that lasts...

what I do today,
what I say to you,
the bridges we build (or burn)
even entropy can't undo.

Thursday, May 6, 2021


we could write a contact
and plot it out to the mote,
chop down every tree,
until we've plotted every note.

we could jump straight in,
both feet, both blind,
the frying pan or the fire,
bdsm bonnie and clyde.

but let's find something
somewhere in between,
a compromise of ourselves,
not someone else's need. 

Wednesday, May 5, 2021


Mature Content
The following material may not be suitable for all audiences.


it makes me anxious when you turn away,
yo yo yo-ing me without my say.
I want you to want me, I need you to need,
I love when you make me, make me feel weak.

but I hate when you turn your back,
make me beg to not feel your lack,
make me anxious, make me scared,
make me wonder why my heart always tears;

I love when you treat me as small and weak;
but I hate when you degrade me, make me seek
to make myself worthless in my own eyes...
that's something I already struggle with inside.

I love when you use me like your personal toy,
I hate feeling disposable when you lose your joy,
I love when you deny me, I love when you tease,
I love when I'm aroused by the slightest breeze,

I love when I ache when I'm thinking of you...
but I hate...
I really hate...
the emotional pain and anguish you put me through.

Tuesday, May 4, 2021


Mature content
Today's post is too erotic to publish here.
To read it, please navigate to my nsfw content blog.

Monday, May 3, 2021


Mature Content
The following material may not be suitable for all audiences.


if I wanted to be the good guy,
the vanilla, mainline, mundane,
I would have proposed to my high school sweetheart,
but she died before we got a second chance.
and we were both too young,
not that anyone's counting
(two years and fifty-one weeks
(except on leap years)
behind me).

I'm searching for something
I can't ...reach.

scared me when I was young.
but today I'm one of three
and researching two of three
but I'll never be three...

I'm searching for something
I ...can't reach.

too many tries that ended in pain,
everywhichway still ended the same.
so took a break and the break turned to years...

I'm searching for something
...I can't reach

if demons were real,
if I could trade every remaining year
for one night that blows my mind
I'd do it

I'm searching for...

but the devil won't take my calls
so I'm just drifting...

I'm searching...
for something to be.

Italics from "Ghost" by Halsey

Sunday, May 2, 2021


three and a half hours isn't bad,
especially when it's halfway to somewhere
...somewhere ...someone
and halfway is easier than all the way

it's like going dutch
on a first date
for a long-distance relationship

four hundred miles
(and change)
could be a lot worse

Saturday, May 1, 2021


thirty days hath september,
june, and november...
and april sure is true--
but what if it didn't have to?

so many things we try to remember,
every month, jan to december,
everything we honor, everything we do--
but month's end doesn't mean it's through.

mathematics and statistics,
Arab heritage and assault awareness,
prevent child abuse, autism, parkinson's,
all suffer from evanescence.

and even may's got some too,
mental health and for the Jew-
-ish heritage we should embrace...
but one short month is just a taste.

so april may have come to an end,
but it's motives continue to rend;
all still fighting to be seen the same
even if a month doesn't bear cause your name.

so here's the change I foretold:
setting weekly blogs on hold,
still writing, just now in verse,
31+ days endured.

Friday, April 30, 2021


when months end and seasons change,
when the frost turns to dew,
when the winds shift and spin about,
and the world turns page anew;

come the opportunity
to change the road I'm on,
but trapped in familiarity
and fear stills my song

from starting a new lyric,
from trying a new verse...
too easy to stay here,
even when it hurts.

pain of moving forward,
pain of holding back;
sing the same words again,
retrace the same tracks.

because the devil I know
is like an old friend
who's betrayed me before,
and we've seen how it ends;

but for the devil I don't
I can only prepare
for the might-happens...
it's no wonder I'm scared.

and perhaps you have faith
--a man or a god--
who keeps you level
and properly shod.

but what I worship
is indifferent to me:
I show respect, gratitude
to the world I see.

(not so blind, not on faith,
no hope for answered prayers.
merely thankful for the gifts--
this world, this ground, this here

that I can see clearly
with my own two eyes.
not mystical, not of
the blind leading the blind.)

so I lean on myself
to determine when to change:
when the pain is unbearable
and my demons satiate.

it happens now. right now.
tomorrow will be new;
I'm ready for something different,
and I hope you are too.

Thursday, April 29, 2021


another year here and gone,
and met with success at last.
29 so far and tomorrow come
and then the month will pass.

in that time I've done some things,
visited old and tried new,
gone sailing on discordant seas
and found home anew.

form and free and hither and yon,
safe and mature and secret,
hidden messages and wide open eyes,
promises made and kept.

and so today I make my mind
and change the future's road
surprise will come to my blog
when it does unfold.

but for tomorrow, I give you this:
a first chance for request;
what should I say on the morrow,
when I lay the month to rest?

Wednesday, April 28, 2021


Mature content warning
-- I have fun
I'm not tied up to anyone...

spend too long setting up,
drawing lines, scheduling time,
burn through the honeymoon
with logic and balance and grind.

but give me a play partner,
hash it out along the way,
spend a couple hours of fun,
and then go our own way.

feel the bliss/skip the heartache,
let everything just flow;
on and done and move along
don't worry what the future holds.

yes, I'd like something that lasts,
but I'm not going to sit and wait
burning through all my hours
while the chase gets away.

...but now I'm free,
there are no strings on me.

Italicized lines from "I've Got No Strings" by Dickie Jones

Tuesday, April 27, 2021


walking on eggshells
/the only people i c
to keep the cool
/an get to talk
lest I start to drown
/for any length of ti
in the pool
/me are in
in the demand
/it for ulter
for finding heart and home
/ior motives. they want so
i can't compete physically
/mething. money or power o
so I sell my soul alone
/r to trick someone or
and walk on eggshells
/to hurt someone. nob
lest i scare you
/ody wants me fo
/r me

Red text from
(NSFW) "Rain Check for a Brain Check"

Monday, April 26, 2021


trying to think
of what to write
when you are
too good at reading me
and I don't want
to infringe on your consciousness

but then I remember:

ea'hab'tu sip'ib min'ite
(I have a language)
ea'hab'mo mo'hab'tu'b
(that only I can translate)

Sunday, April 25, 2021


through the space
through the gun
through the hole
in space and...

though you broke
how physics
tears itself apart
I don't have the
math for the...

cuz you broke
not your legs
not your logic
but the world
and the spring
so you...

through your teeth
through the wall
through the air
and promise me

Saturday, April 24, 2021


the hug
and the hand
wrapped around
my torso
holding me close
holding me tight
holding me together...

Friday, April 23, 2021


in the silence and the solitude
of the drifting longing night
and the missing empty platitudes
that would clutter up my sight

in the moment, in the long open moment
when I have the canvas to myself,
build my dreams on the firmament
and need nobody else.

but then the worlds appear,
and their emptiness pains me so
that people are all but required
and I shouldn't be alone.

for whom do I build
if no-one's there to see...
though I build for myself,
alone doesn't mean free.

Thursday, April 22, 2021


a hammy and a tent went camping by the bay
where their only misfortune way the length of their stay:
three overlapping nights and two full days--
what overlaps of vacation time before parting ways

she watched curiously at the rigging as he strung up between the trees,
just a few small straps to keep him suspended in the breeze.
he watched patiently as she found a flattish spot,
pegged down her shelter, working rather hot.

they dragged seating close together as they made separate meals,
watched the stars rise yawning before turning on heel
and climbing in to their respective nests;
both having a high priority to get a solid rest.

they both dreamed brightly, but I know not of what things,
though I doubt they involved sealing wax, cabbages, or kings.
and upon the day they woke, he with the sun,
but what happened after is another tale begun.

Wednesday, April 21, 2021


some people work hard for twenty years
and never become a footnote to history,
some people set pen to page once
and every word everybody wants to read.

but I don't write to become great,
I write to empty out my head
because it hurts less when
I fill up a page instead.

and here I'm thinking of stopping
at ten-ish years of my blog,
and continuing with the daily poems
I've been writing all month long;

continue the streak, continue the collage,
continue showing the forest and the trees,
go not bigger, go as you will or go home...
maybe it's time for a new path for me.

Tuesday, April 20, 2021


Mature Content

piston shaking
pounding quaking
darting dodging
switching routing
changing directions at the whim of my heartbeat
because something's coming after me...

steadily coming
stalking hunting
not shying not hiding
drawing closer as a tide
I'm just inevitably forestalling
and every step earns me pride.

I could give in--
stand stronger and fight...
but I want to be caught,
be an exhausted prize.

Monday, April 19, 2021


Mature Content Warning

only one of us wants
to feel the hot breath on the back of our neck
only one of us wants
to be chased down shuddering sick
only one of us wants
because we feel less like a wreck
only one of us wants
when we're run down, exhausted, broken, and fixed...

and only one of us wants
to actually feel like prey,
because only us are human enough
to be fulfilled that way.

Sunday, April 18, 2021


why is it always the left eye?
and my right nostril bleeding.
sick of these allergies and
meds I grew up not needing.

Saturday, April 17, 2021


Someone stabbed him in the heart, just a little poke
But he keeled over ‘cause he went into battle wearing chain mail made of jokes

early to bed and early to rise
for the shortage of supplies
get my jab, get my poke,
give the antibodies a soak.

home county such a mess,
gone nearly golding-esk.
not a single slot to be had
so I came here instead.

why is pulling your head out of your ass
too much to ask?

Italics from "Tiny Glowing Screens Part 2" by Watsky

Friday, April 16, 2021


oh my god...
what could it be...
we're all doomed...
who's flying this thing?

I don't stand tall,
I don't hold tight,
I don't run fast,
I don't know right,
I don't kill demons,
I don't build things,
I just fall apart
when they get wings.

nobody knows my name,
nobody watches me climb,
nobody holds breaths,
nobody stands in line
for my attention,
for my handshake,
for my hancock,
for my art-make.

I'm not driving,
I'm not winning,
I'm not dancing,
not even spinning.
I'm just writing
but it ain't second best
I'm not renowned
or even followed yet.

I can't repair,
I just break down.
I can't grow up,
I'm just a-round.
I don't cause smiles,
I don't cause tears,
I just cause people
to not be here.

I'm not making
any difference,
I'm not even worth
any repents.
I'm just a piece of gravel
stuck in your shoe...
the best I can be
is annoying you.

oh, right.
that would be me.

Italics from "Bushwhacked" Firefly season 1, episode 3

Thursday, April 15, 2021


more than I could hope for
all started with just one.
one light at the end of the tunnel.
one friend with the same dream.
one dream.

we bought forty acres
when we only needed one.
one garden between us.
one simple agreement.
one handshake.

then we started looking
for other people to join us.
one at a time.
one by one.

it's the John Galt subdiv,
because we're not a co-op.
one rule for everyone.
one sun for everyone.
one light.

it's here when it's time to stand,
stand on your own
two feet.

Wednesday, April 14, 2021


feel like I'm over my head
trying to do things outside my reach,
trying to be different instead
of the boring easy mete.

buying a lot and building a home,
couldn't leave well enough alone,
mcmansion debt scares me away...
(don't need the space anyway).

feel like I'm over my head
trying to build my own equity,
tired of renting instead
of having my own place to be.

prefab and modular go for broke,
but minimalism's up in smoke;
more the a thou' is wasted on me
for all that I need it to be.

feel like I'm over my head
trying to puzzle the pieces,
not a cookie cutter homestead,
just want to have my peace.

Tuesday, April 13, 2021


waking to fire in my bones
pains of being alone
stretching tearing aching need...

searching for strength to be
what I want, what I seek,
moving jerking building touch...

working to find nothing much
a few small desired crush,
hoping wishing begging thrown...

Monday, April 12, 2021


tired of building equity for someone else
who had their cake and eat mine too,
I want my land and I want my house
and I want it economical too.

a thou and change is too much for me
(minimal, spouse- and child-free),
and neighborhoods full of rich and old
pushed my type out of the inventory.

ought-five or six ought to do,
if I can just find somewhere to be.
I'm not against your way of life,
I just want the same for me.

Sunday, April 11, 2021



a                 p

i        f        r

t        o        o

i        r        o

n                 f


still waiting
because  apparently
       i only exist
           for your
for mine

Saturday, April 10, 2021


that's-- no
what about-- not there either
oh here's-- not that one
it's actually-- that's not mine
but are you sure-- completely
that's impos-- completely
no, really it's impos-- fine, then you do it.
what! this can't be-- see
something is wrong-- oh, so now it's my fault.
I didn't mean-- yes you did.

Friday, April 9, 2021


regret is
forgetting to be polite
and picking up where we left off,
asking for a time and
feeling broken and lost.

regret is
feeling too much,
breaking and burning and drowning,
heavy weight in my stomach,
coming apart at the seams.

regret is
asking for help
but in the wrong place,
because nobody here cares
and I'm just losing face.

regret is
a bad horror story
because I mess everything up,
couldn't sell a tale to save my life,
but just keep churning it out.

regret is
in the wrong place,
because I'm nothing special here,
because I'm nothing special,
period, anywhere.

regret is
trying to be somebody
this world hates heroes,
loves attractive villians,
and nobody reads stories about nobodies.

regret is
nothing I can do about it,
always getting in the way,
better just be hands off
let someone else save the day.

regret is
having good ideas,
having good follow through,
but being too short in the crowd
taking credit for what I do.

regret is
to be

and failing.

Thursday, April 8, 2021


you like pushing me.
you like needling me.
you like trying to hurt me, get me to the edge.

one day, you're going to find out.

you tend to deride me.
you tend to dismiss me.
you tend to underestimate me, devalue me.

one day, you're going to the hospital.

you like pushing me.
you like needling me.
you like stoking my rage.

one day, i'm going to crack.

and then you'll be frightened.
and then you'll be hurt.
and then you'll regret every little thing you did to me.

and i'll regret letting you get away with abusing me for so long.

Wednesday, April 7, 2021


outside there's shit on the ground,
left stuff turned trash littered around,
pens, markers, papers, masks,
finished with their initial task,

but not useless, not worn through,
not beaten, bedraggled, broken into.
just... one and done and tossed away.
object impermanence here to stay.

fill my pockets with the same shit,
every day carry floats my ship.
same item, same pocket, same every day,
easier to keep when it's put away.

built to last, last a lifetime,
steel, aluminum, hard and fine.
keep it til it breaks apart:
object permanence holds my heart.

things get left and things get lost,
things get forgotten and I know the cost.
I'll pick it up and turn it in--
I hate when things go missing.

but alone I seem to be,
they find it, "it belongs to me,"
when it's shiny, when it's sly,
what they want but wouldn't buy.

never clean the planet without a change
to how you treat the shit you engage.
stop buying pens that last one day!
stop throwing every fucking thing away!

re-education won't do the trick,
"just don't care" won't make it stick.
fine them, bust them, recycle the key.
waste your time on other things.

sometimes things just disappear,
and I feel my heart tear.
tear the world in search of it--
usually found and breathe a bit.

but sometimes it's gone for good,
stolen lifetimes away from should
have had decades with me
because you had no sympathy.

Tuesday, April 6, 2021


your hell is nothing to fear
because I'm not destined for there,
I've my own place nestled in green
that holds my soul while I dream.

a chapel with my loves inside,
small and cozy and stone and quiet,
a tree engraved in the altar wall
unweathered through time and tell.

unassuming quiet stature,
undemeaning to its nature,
unrepentant in all beliefs,
undemanding what's underneath.

to be the best person I can be
is good enough for the holy tree,
no judgment that you call your chains
will stop it from calling my name.

Monday, April 5, 2021


my life squeezed into squares
everything tracked, nothing spared

building the grid for the 'ware
engineered and impaired
surveyed found and lost
pained and sorted and cost

anything you want to know
tallied from head to toe

small wonder I like labels
when my own life is relegated to tables

Sunday, April 4, 2021


my mother bought me
a new pizza cutter
because the old one was dull,
had a busted up handle
because it was second hand
and the previous owner
put it in the dishwasher.
(don't put wood tools in the dishwasher.)

the new one
with a plastic handle
is still dull.

Saturday, April 3, 2021


silence reigns when monarchs fall,
when the wind turns and evil calls,
when there's on fear held in hand,
and you feel small and bland.

when the Work comes to an end,
when the world stutters and rends,
when the darkness comes to call,
when you must flee or fall,
when you're nothing but a stone in a shoe...

be the best annoyance you can do.

Friday, April 2, 2021

From the Internal Narrative of Callidus Igni

Previous | Index

The camp was quiet.

Even in the off-season, there was some noise, some activity, some bustle about the place. But this morning, as the sun rose over the pitched tents, there was hardly a stir, until a shelter swayed and fell. It was hastily stuffed into the back of a car, a couple doors were slammed, followed by a light crunching of gravel as a single car rolled slowly away.

It was like the world let out a breath it didn't know it was holding. The breeze picked up again, spinning dust devils across the long and lonely driveway. The trees sighed and swayed, and the birds took up their songs once more.

One zipper, then two three and more, as people climbed out from their shelters, stumbled and stilted to the amphitheater, like they'd forgotten how to walk. There, along a table, waited the Council of Storytellers.

Primus stood. He didn't have to call for silence, for his audience was still, patient, humbled. They were scared

"It has come to my attention that our canon has some large workings in it, devastating spells that have dire consequences for all of us, not just those performing them. They are not to be used lightly, but they are accessible to anyone, regardless the breadth of their skill or the depth of their well.

"In light of recent events, we have decided not to remove them from the canon. However, there will be increased scrutiny of any who try to use them. On your souls be it."

Primus sat down, and Secondus stood up.

"There will be no retcon. As of four am this morning, you all woke as if from a dream. The prior twenty four hours were a shared nightmare, and you will slowly forget the terrible things that happened. They will fade, as all dreams do, once we wake.

"That is the canon."

Secondus sat down, and Tertius stood.

"It has come to my attention as the Master of Coin that some counterfeits have been floating about. I have begun an inquiry into this matter. I have posted a schedule of interviews to be conducted by party. Bring all your coin to be inspected. Counterfeits will be confiscated and replaced with a writ of funds owed. Any found to be collaborating with the counterfeiters will have their writs invalidated; all others will be paid back when the investigation is concluded.

"These writs will be character bound, you may not trade them as payment. If you are short on funds due to this investigation, bring it to your storyteller to be handled on a case-by-case basis."

Tertius slumped back into his chair. Primus glanced down the line, and Quartus shook her head. Then Primus stood once more.

"Check the schedule for your interviews, we have carefully arranged them to minimize the interruption to your stories, but the investigation is a higher priority. That is all."

People stood as if set free from shackles that weighed them to the earth. There was a sudden outburst of chatter, and then suddenly everyone was talking, the spell broken at long last. 

Only I didn't stand, sitting behind the table and the stage, silent, all but blindfolded in the morning sun, listening and waiting. My heart felt heavy, and that meditative retreat suddenly seemed like a very good idea.

Index | Next


when I wake, the tree still stands,
the blood still drips, and open hands
catch like fallen rain and thirsty lips.

the chapel still waits for my time,
promises made, promises mine;
doors watch for death to come.

see the forest and the trees,
see my past overtake me,
sit on the frosty cold steps.

someday, I'll go inside.
see all who I've left behind,
loved, lost, and abandoned.

Thursday, April 1, 2021


for all we speak of
of the permanence of the internet,
how nothing gets deleted,
how nothing gets removed;
for all the cloud storage,
for all the servers,
for all the computers,
for all the memory,
for all the history...

for all we speak of permanence,
the one thing you can count on
is that things are always changing.

the only permanence
is found in the spaces we create for ourselves.

Wednesday, March 31, 2021


when the darkness creeps closer
and snuffs out the light,
when everything is black
and nothing feels right,
when there's a haunting in your heart
and a black spot of blight,
when everything feels hopeless...
your eyes adjust to the night.

Tuesday, March 30, 2021


"Why are we meeting here?"

"Why not? It's certainly convenient. It's also quiet."

"But it's his brain."

"He doesn't mind."

"But it's his brain."

"Relax. He's not going to butt in, are you?"


"See? Now how awkward would it be to slip up and speak aloud where you are?"

"Uhh, not good."

"Yeah, same for me. But here, no such problem. Now, what was so important that it couldn't wait?"

"What are you doing?"

"Ignore him."

"But he's recording our conversation!"

"So what? He's got no one to tell, and he's not going to leak it to anybody without risking himself in the process. What's the harm?"

"What's the benefit? Stop it."


"Oh relax. He records everything. That's what he does. Better to do it openly in front of us than to do it after we're gone."

"I don't like it."

"Then I guess whatever you had to say can't be that important."

"No, wait... Dammit. Why did you do that?"

"I collate. That's my thing. Can't collate without data."

"You're an idiot."

"That's not for you to say. Now get out of my head unless you have something productive to tell me."

"Fine. I didn't want to be here anyway."

Yes, cyan is a jerk. That's part of the point. Orange is kind of based on me, if you couldn't guess.

Friday, March 26, 2021

Untitled (26 April 2021)

oh, that I could plug into an outlet,
as my computer plugs into a cord,
as my phone plugs into the wall,
and its life is recharged, reborn.

Wednesday, March 24, 2021

It's Not My Fault You're Close-Minded

Mature Content
This piece contains material not suitable for all audiences. Consume at your own risk.

tight band across my chest
because what calms me doesn't make any damn sense
when you get home you take it OFF...
but I wear it to bleed my bleeding cost.

cantilevered til you can't breathe,
little bit-a-padding means nothing to me,
I breathe too much every goddamn day...
it's when I stop.            ...I feel more sane.

not for the cd, not for the t,
not for anything reason you accuse of me,
not for any reason I can explain...
I.    Just.    Like.    It.            Okay?

it's none of your business anyway,
it's not your money, it's not your body, it's not your play,
it's not hurting you or making you less,
just because of a tight band across my chest.

Punctuation matters. The Brits call a "period" a full stop for a reason. Try reading this with more staccato.