Are you and me
lumps of slowly
In the eyes of a lost one you are
only animated pretty meaty bits are you.
Let’s hope he’ll waste not want not and eat you instead
rather than flush you down the loo
In my dreams I saw what this world had caused me to forget and refused to let me recollect.
"You never saw me as human, did you?" asked the departed one.
"No, only as you." said the fox.
"And what is human?" Asked the disembodied eye.
"You’ll find your memories in your truth." replied Death
My small fingers entwine in your silky hair, now brown not black, now long and rich with soft gentle waves that reflect the moonlight.
Faintly I call to you from my world and some how you can hear me.
You feel my tugs on your hair as I felt myself depart; sudden and unsure but gone all the same.
"I didn’t mean to die."
Your scattered memories
became my scattered dreams
And some where
the hope fell
AM Tonight host Alicia Menendez and I did something fun, awkward and enlightening. Alicia suggested that I “flip the script”on her during our interview about my book Redefining Realness and ask her all the invasive questions I’m asked to prove my validity during interviews.
The following is a series of screengrabs where I ask her to prove her identity as a woman to me by asking about puberty, her transition from girl to woman, her genitalia and whether she used tampons. This was beyond uncomfortable but I hope our demonstration illuminates the problem in our media culture and it serves as a teaching moment for us all about self-determination and the fact that we are all valid, real and don’t need anyone’s interrogation into our lives, bodies and identities.
At first, as a child, I simply lived and felt. I breathed, tasted, asborbed life around me but never reflected. I was trained not to question or think. Only to be.
I never knew I existed until I was told otherwise.
I never knew I had a reflection worth caring about until I was taught to care.
As the years grew on, I noticed when looking into my own eyes that I saw just how empty I really was and was becoming.
I wanted to close those listless vacant windows forever.
But, I did not drown in the sea of white as I had intended to.
No, not in the White Sea lost with all the others who had forgotten they could live, I did not drown.
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In the evening twilight of the forest he stood alone.
Slowly as the light of day did fade, so did his soliloquy begin.
The words twisted and spiraled into poetry, it flowed from his mouth like black silk into the air.
Only the DarkOne heard as the words ceased from the ghost’s lips.
“Ah, Father Time has left him to his fate.” he whispered.
His black eyes shimmered in the distance.
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Maybe we can be something other than human
when we learn to be at peace with being human.
Oddly that seems impossible on a collective scale.
Humans cannot seem to be satisfied with what they are.
Only in the presence of others do we become unsatisfied with ourselves.
Do you regret choosing to be human?
One lush night
you gave way to my hands.
Brittle bones flew free.
An all I’ve got left
is your wine perfume
stainin’ the air.
I saw your bruised and naked form
tinged with a dark red display of life.
Your face was obscured in the shadows.
Still, I know it was your soft delicate body that laid there torn;
a hellish wine stained fissure
split you in two.
The stink of liqour wafted intwined
with the rich odor of blood to my nose.
"I killed you again, my love."
My dream subdued lips whispered in agony.
"I’m tired of humans," said the genie as she laid her bruised body down.
Dried semen stuck fast to her thighs. She sighed heavily.
A rough, uncaring hand shook her vessel. Impatient, lustful grunts reverberated against the smooth walls.
"Your wish is my command."
The lazy snake shriveled inside of her and then departed,
adding to the array of similar rivers that swirled round and round inside the genie.
A lost cosmos inside a deep abyss.
Then She cradled the humans
hushing their cries that reached the sky.
"Let it be my children,
won’t you please let it be.
As you kill me,
so shall you cease to be.”
Still, the children longed for a
Father who would never show Himself.
All the while abusing and ignoring Mother Earth
whom they could feel with all their senses.
Unsatisfied with being satisfied,
we go so far as to create a god
to pine for
and lament with not having.
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