Art Procreation

Art is a form of procreation
In that it can inspire new art
After it meets a new artist
Who is moved by it in some way 

Paradoxical Farewell

How do you wish someone well
Who is leaving with intent
Never to return?

Unless they failed 


In their next steps

Feeling Alive!

Gasping for air
Trying to stay afloat
In a sea of change
I had flooded around myself

Treading water
While adding water
Offered by life

Breathing faster
I feel alive!

Unlike when in a peaceful

World Problems Wisdom

When I was younger
I wanted to make a difference
By trying to solve the world’s problems

Then I saw the world

And how it stupidly created
Most of its own problems

And I thought

Solve your own fucking problems!


I’ll work on making a difference
By inspiring others
To create everything but problems

My Myers-Briggs J

The Myers-Briggs J
Stands for Judging
Not Judgmental
But not always

I score high on J
And you’ll get it all here
And Judgmental

Because I write poetry
To pass judgment

Wanting to Be #1

As much as I love kids
I’m not seeking anyone with kids
For a life partner at this stage

I haven’t been loved enough in life
To be at least second priority
For a partner in a relationship

As I should be if they had kids

I can be happier by myself
With me as my #1 priority


Nothing is better than something
That’s less than desired
And expected

What people sometimes call “settling”

Poetry in Motion

I compose poetry while I run

Other times
I run while I compose poetry

At times
I am not clear which I’m doing

In those times
It’s all just poetry in motion

One of the Crazies

There is something nice
About being open-minded
In a close-minded place

I don’t have to deal with
The “crazies”

Because I am the “crazies”
Or I am among them

Which is kind of fun
If they treat their “crazies” nicely
Like they do where I live

A Things

Writing passive modern poetry
Feels a little out of place
Like being an Instagram poet
On WordPress

Is either such a thing?
Or is it just me?

Discovering Prose Poets

I love discovering unknown poets
The kind unknown to themselves
All because they didn’t line break
Their prose appropriately

I call them
Who write prosetry


I exist only for him

Only when he needs me

To have someone to beat

Then I’d be forgotten
Until he next needed me
To beat me again
And forget me again

All to
And always to
Make him feel better about himself
And to improve himself

It’s all I’m good for
It’s all I was made for
It’s all I know
It’s all I care to know

That I’m there for him
Any time he needed me
To beat me
To feel better about himself
To improve himself

One purpose
One clear purpose
Always fulfilled
Leaves me fulfilled
At all costs
Negligible in comparison

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