Boredom is a muse
She comes undisguised
As art
As a moment
Within a moment
With such epidemic grace
Her entrance
Is a lull
In the vortex
Of an hour
She’s a minute
Of respite
And resistance
To routine
She will not
Be boxed
Into the mundane
Of daily life
She is the desire
And asleep
In dreams
And sacrificed
By material
Achievable by
The overlooked
For whom
She is their
The lull
In their chaos
A bridge
To their dreams


I revel in my me-ness
And bathe in my flaws
Dance to my songs 
And love what I draw

Every time 
I lost track
Of myself, I had to go
On a new adventure to retrieve
My selves and help them 
Unhold, and grow 

I cut, I sew
And my love for scissors
Is well known
It is both metaphoric
And a habit 
Into which I’ve slowly grown 

I see a mirror 
You see my image
But not how I see it cracked
I revel in my abstraction
And let my art
Leave it ransacked 

I have been encaved
And drawn on walls
Of my mindly captivity
I have surrendered
To hopelessness and risen against
Its treacherous gravity

I have shied from
Ignored and shunned
My reflections bad
I have beaten myself up
For not being more accepting 
Of what I had

I have screamed 
Myself empty 
And lost my external voice 
I have written and sung
Ballads incomplete
I have gallantly lyricized noise

I have burnt wings and lungs
Too deep I’ve swum 
And too close I dared to glide
I’m a master puppeteer 
Of skeletons in my graveyard 
None of which I bother to hide

I have two sides
Black and white 
And they can only coexist
I am my black
And I am my white
I am my broken and my fixed

Because I have been the swamp
I have been the ocean 
And I celebrate every bit of me
I bathe in my flaws 
I dance to my songs 
I revel in my self-revelry


And I have once again 
Been abandoned 
By Inspiration 
For I was far too
Taken by
The workings of Motivation 
As I tried to decipher 
Patterns that initiate
And put into motion
Actions from ideas
Ideas from thoughts 
Thoughts from the array
Of awareness 
Transparent, translucent, opaque 
The alert, semi-alert, and asleep 
Major contributing factors 
Into the craftsmanship 
Of all that exists 
Through humanity 
And Inspiration
The midwife 
So instrumental
In the deliveries 
Of human spawned 
Lively and inanimate 
Escaped me
She left me
After a brief reunion 
Of love making 
Of bleeding poetry 
She left me
For I was far too taken
By her brother’s masculinity 
Bearer of burdens 
Charioteer of creators
Effeminate seducer 
Lithe, subliminal articulater 
Shapeshifter like his sister 
Weight-lifter like me
And I could feel his gaze 
Graze over my collarbone 
From where my load grew
On to my back 
My coward spine 
I was hypnotized 
By his hypnotic charms
Ruminating over fantasies 
While Inspiration 
Slept in my arms 
Till she left me
For my unfazed unfaithfulness 
For fantasizing over her brother 
And he
He left me
For climbing into his arms
Empty of anything Inspiration 
Had filled me with 
He said I was a pitcher 
And empty
For I could hold neither 
And be full
And I said
I thought 
Long after they were gone
How foolish and mesmerized 
By them I had been
How disarmed by 
The ultimatum
But they left and I thought 
And I came to my overused 
While I had the capacity 
To love one
I was to remain incapacitated 
By my lust
For both


Whittling away my soul 
Into many pieces 
Of poetry 
A different life
A different self 
Like books through which 
You live a thousand lives
Each set of lines I assemble
Hundreds over years past 
Each I lived 
Each I loved 
Each I became 
As I wrote
And I wrote of darkness 
And I wrote of light 
Of thunders tamed 
And conquered fright 
Voids and ravines 
Truth’s molars and canines
I’ve held myself captive
And set myself free 
Words have been my imprisonment 
And words have made me
The freest I can be

Voids ~

To put the dark, haunting truth simply
Everyone carries a void within
Voids so deep 
Monstrous apocalyptic creatures 
Would cringe at the mere sight of them

Voids as humongous 
As tiny planets 
And we humans
Significantly tinier bodies of mass
Carry them inside us
Like individual entities of their own

We come into existence 
Blank and whole 
Devoid of craters and blemishes
But as we grow
We have entire galaxies 
Of grief, memories, and experiences 
Revolving around these chasms

And we start out young 
Digging into ourselves
With miniature shovels
We mature, we evolve 
We implode
We get lost and find comfort 
In our emptiness 
We let it breathe and burn
Echo and die

We humans let our implosions
Live inside us like celestial bodies
And call them 

Tell me

Tell me
If I traveled back in time
And left my words there
To be discovered by you now
Would you read them
Would they instill you
With the same awe
As the ones kept in glass cases? 
Would you read them wide eyed
Would you breathe over 
The wall standing between you 
And my letters? 
Fogging the transparency 
To trace my name 
With a fingertip? 
Tell me
If I should go back in time
From the era we exist in together 
To one without you
If only to leave there 
A piece of me you could finally 
Truly love

Bad hour

All it took 
Was some coffee 
Spilled onto a project 
Halfway done
And all the toxicating 
Held back voluntarily 
To avoid disaster 
Were unstoppered 

A whole decanter 
Of saline 
Rained down
On my hands 
That were already 
Washing away 
The coffee stains
Silly coffee stains
Bringing forth
The desperately hidden
The subconsciously 


Born of nature 
Humans have a lot in common 
With weathers and calamities
There’s a type every human
Can be tucked into
Because some people 
Are like tornadoes
Arriving without notice
With violent outbursts 
And leaving destruction 
In their wake

And some people
Are like promising clouds
That disappoint
That rob you of sunshine
And leave you thirsting for rain

Some people
Some people are walking calamities
Earthquakes to be precise
The quiet ripples and rumbles that unshelter you
That make you forget
The familiarity of home

Because people 
Are volcanic eruptions
Snowing ash and carpeting skies
They’re islands where flowers do not grow
Where life cannot sustain

But there are also rains
That quench the parched earth
And revive the dying

There are days that reach through the walls
And pull you gently out into an embrace

There are days
There are people
That fall from the heavens like snowflakes
Each unique
Like art
Each cold
Like reality
Each melting 
At touch 

Are the emotions 
So tangled in themselves
As a result of winds somersaulting
In the wedding of a summer storm 
Marrying the thunder

Because people 
Harbour the same darkness
The night yawns into the world
As it sleeps under its watchful eye

And because people
Emit the same light
The stars stutter 
Even when storms
Black out the skies 

Creator’s creators ~

I have a hard time imagining an all perfect “God”

If God’s just, did we create him

If God’s unjust, did we create him

Every now and then I manage to conjure

A non-responsive entity to stir

The humanness in me

Pleading, imploring, blaming, thanking

They’ve been programming us to

For so long

For so long we’ve been living

In fear of retribution

Fostering eagerness in worship

Hungering for reward

Your all perfect Almighty might not be

All that perfect at all

If the world’s balance hangs on our deeds

Punishable by humans

Humans who play God

Wrote rules

Write rules

Will continue to

Damning the name of their God

Terrorizing innocents

So let’s play by your rulebook

Book me a cell in your hell

I’m no atheist

I’m no believer in your God

I’m a believer in my own beliefs

In a world so fucked

It feels a need to bribe its God

With good behavior that’s bound to stray

With offerings to rot at its feet

I don’t know


I don’t know

If your God is a he

Or a woman

Or if there are many in charge

Of this world

Or if there’s politics at work

In Godland

But I know


I know

The image you’ve painted

In crimson

With the blood you’ve shed

The people you’ve wrecked

The ones you’ve orphaned

In your God’s name

Goes against all

That humanity has ever

Preached of its Creator

So excuse my indifference

Regarding the form you’ve given

To your beliefs

My obligation remains

Towards the ones

You supposedly claim your supposed God

Would be ashamed to call its children

The damned, the muted

The by-your-rules executed

So yes

Let’s play by your rulebook

Book me a cell in your hell

And watch me defy

The Creator

You created