"Being powerful is like being a lady: if you have to tell people you are, you aren't."

- Margaret Thatcher

Until you find reason to ponder all things, you will find the intellectual in nothing.

Dali Dolly

The room wasn't nearly as spartan as I had expected. Punctuated by fine carpets and vivacious plant life there was a sink, dressers, a bed, and even a drum set in the far corner. No sticks though. I imagined that the Ghosts didn't appreciate loud noises.

When She entered the room I was surprised by Her appearance. Her face was covered by a white mask, eyeholes cut almost crudely in a piece of bleached cloth that hung with ragged edges, as if torn from its home. The rest of Her pale body was, barring a brief loincloth, completely naked and resembled a man's entirely. If I hadn't known better I would have thought She was a man, but when She spoke I recognized the silky-smoothness of Her voice.

"They said that you wished to become a Ghost." I ignored Her for a moment, still wondering at her transformation. Even Her body was an unusual color, and when she turned in the light shed by the window it became even more pronounced. It was like a marble statue, or bones scarred white by the sun's rays. She stared, unblinking, from behind Her mask.

"Is this true, or are you just trying to get closer to the Door?" This time I responded.

"You know me well."

"It is impossible for a man to enter The Door without a key." I snorted with derision.

"The Door is not an entrance, but an exit."

"Who would want to leave this place?" She gestured, presumably referring to the tennis or basketball courts, the opulent swimming pools shrouded by magnificent waterfalls, and the other Ghosts who frequented those places. I stared at Her and refused Her advance - She hated this the most. With reluctance in Her eyes, She spoke.

"Well, They have decided to give you a chance. Tomorrow." She turned and appeared to float out the door, shutting it firmly behind her until the lock clicked. I returned to a prone position on the bed, begging the fates for a confirmation of my righteousness. I heard only silence.

So the object of
The rejection is to
Find someone who
Binds themselves to
A list of rules that are
Copacetic with what
My thick brain has
Sluggishly conjured
To bring itself pleasure,

But

Perhaps the outside of the box
Is why it stocks
Empty memories
And silly thoughts.

Oh how I long to hold,
Protect,
Yet still keep my morality intact.

In fact,
The desire to be on fire
Seems bred in!

But maybe I'm just
Inbred.

Wrong and right,
And black and white,
Why do we stop loving when we fight?

Should not we
Disagree,
In an order that borders on
Civility?

But perhaps ardor,
And grandeur
Accompany one another,
And perhaps weakness,
And meekness,
Cannot be second guessed.

Ipsos factos,
Give up the ghost,
And so I set these things to rest.

Why do we refrain from swearing around small children?

Maybe the process of finding solutions and failing to traverse shortcuts is . . .

Clown Shoes

Don't be alarmed by my pace
I've changed for the day - no disgrace!
I'm trying new prose
Like a new set of hose
That I might be comfortably laced.

I have trouble writing the trite
Although many would (many might)
Consider the jocular
From afar, though binocular,
To be distasteful in any light.

Still I say it's completely fallacious,
To ignore one's humor, so gracious,
That, when we stumble,
Shows us how we're humble,
Which in turn can make us less voracious.

So I guess what I'm saying is this:
In the grossest of ironic twists,
The lesser you've palled
To the name you've been called
The better you'll feel in the midst.

Tinted Glass Makes Greener Grass

Tonight, the sun sets
On naked trees

With animosity I see
That no-one is truly free
Oh how they try to be

They use
As tools
Faith and free will and
Rules and change and
Death and life everlasting.

Bound to their fate
They can appreciate
All else but their current state.

The Future Responds

Hey man, relax.

You've got it all wrong, but I can't tell you what you've got wrong - you'll figure that out on your own. Just hang in there.

I wish I could say it gets better, but it really doesn't. There'll be plenty of peaks and valleys. That's the point - not all this "having" crap. You don't own anything in life: life owns you. You're born and you die, everything in between is parenthetical.

Don't get all upset about it though. Life is still precious, and you probably don't realize how much of it you're going to miss out on. You never cried enough, never loved enough, never bothered to be vulnerable because you were afraid. Let me tell you, fear is way worse than pain. Pain ends, but fear builds on itself until it has constructed an awesome clockwork apparition that knows no empathy. Pain simply is, but fear is malicious. Don't let it infect you, or you'll lose so much in life that you might as well not have lived at all.

Texting the Future

Hey.

I guess I think that you know what you're doing, where you're going. Maybe you already know and you just refuse to tell me. That's fine. It would be hard anyway.

I don't expect much I guess. Security. Love. Pain. Heartbreak. It's all the same to me. I guess I kind of do know the future already. I just wish I could know exactly what I need to do to get there.

I know what you're thinking. "You don't have to do anything to get to the future, it plods steadily towards you regardless of your attempts to thwart or hasten it." You're only half right. Maybe what the future looks like to you is different. After all, you're already there. Me, I'm still stuck in the past, trying to push through the muck to get to where you are.

I'm so envious of you. You've got everything that I want and don't know how to get. I dunno, maybe that's the point. Maybe I won't ever have everything I want, so I've got to grab what I can get. Maybe having isn't as important as trying.

A Series of Questions Regarding Love and Sex

What is romantic love?

What is the difference between romantic and platonic love?

Does love connect or separate us as individuals?

Is there really a single person with whom you are destined to share the closest bonds of both platonic and romantic love?

Teacher the Talented

Children are amazing!

They are the
Boundless energy of the
Soulless indignity of the
Mindless calamity that we
See.

So forgive not
What will not be forgiven
In you.

Forget not
The important lessons taught
To you.

Winsome Drifter

Jump from topic to topic
Repeat yourself to make it stick

Don't buy your love
From the thrifter
'Cause love will make you
A winsome drifter

Ever lonely, always ceding
Pleasant eyes, always pleading
"Take me away"

And yes, you'll pray,
But never leave the
Hollow home you've
Worked and weaved

As a nest
As a bed
As a rest
For your head

Not the living
Instead
For trouble
For the dead.

In the Spirit of Loneliness

In what do the tasteless dip
To cleanse the endless tip of
Their mindless instant rewind
Would you fall for less than duress
When you undress and steel yourself for
Pain unimaginable?

Stop Laughing (Am I Too Serious?)

Please don't deride my frown
Because I woke up
Upside-down.

And please don't mock my hate
Because I'd rather
Inculcate.

So please refrain from laughter delirious
Because the matter is
Somewhat serious.

Sometimes clarity is a greater curse than confusion.

Secret Moon

I must confess
Even though I love
To talk

After you leave
I still feel an ache
In my chest.

I won't depress
Because I know
You're happy

But you should know
I love the way
You dress.

So I won't wane
Like the tide
Ebb

But wax philosophical
You make me happy
Insane!

I feel (so) good (but) when (you're) gone.

"The brain

A caustic lump
Of chemicals dumped
Into a sack of fat
In the head," I spat

"I prefer the mind
See,
To unwind it is
Much harder than
The brain

To find the mind
Is to lean on air
Take that dare
And show me your role
The mind is the soul"

But inside I cried
Because sometimes my brain
Interferes with my mind.

Ignorance and fear:
If imbibed as sustenance,
A bitter poison.

Renaissance Man

Samson was a man of mead,
Muscle, and dread,
In word and deed
Who would open his mouth
And fill a need.

Coarse like the hair
That grew on his arms
Fire and grace
Magnificent charm
And above all
Would do no harm.

His wisdom was free
Like his cleverness, compelled
By the fools who would challenge
Expecting him felled

How amusing
By his choosing
His words
Were his conquerers
Made appear
Absurd.

The Science of Sex

Love and sex.

Let me talk about the Heisenberg uncertainty principle for a moment.

Heh, not.

Love and sex.

Sure, you can separate the two. Love without sex is platonic – sex without love is demonic, and if you’re really desperate you’ll end up histrionic. Heh.

Love and sex.

They belong with each other. They resonate on the same frequency. Sure you can pull them apart, like turning water into hydrogen and oxygen. Just don’t light a match in blind passion, because if you do...

The whole thing will blow up in your face.

Sound Familiar?

“In the Kali Yuga people achieve noble rank in society based on the amount of money and property they own rather than their moral virtue. The quality of virtue is measured only in terms of material wealth. Sexual passion alone binds husband and wife together in marriage. People become successful in life through a succession of lies, and their only source of enjoyment is sex. They live with continuous fear of hunger, disease, and death.”

- Donna Rosenburg, World Mythology