Dance to your own beat


Life is not about outmaneuvering others to get ahead of them, nor is it limiting and enslaving yourself to the moves of the majority. It’s about finding your own tune and getting in sync with that beat.

- (The) Name’s Not At All Relevant

Giving while expecting something in return is manipulation in disguise. - (The) Name’s Not At All Relevant


When The Language Guru Said "Don't Me"


The Ultimate Collision Course


In blinding speeds
and accelerations faster
than the speed of light
I orbit the innards
of a particle collider



Heedless




Pointless




Propelled by

the natural order of
who the hell knows
what 
or who



without warning

lo and behold
my quintessence
millions, billions, trillions of them
laid bare
right before mine
very eyes



Then it dawned on me

I got smashed into God!

Fans Club

Do I turn to
my crowd
when there is
no one else around
to turn to?


Of course


In those instances
        I always welcome


            my self with
                open
                    arms

In the Face of Adversity, Don’t Run Away from God. Run Into God

Adversity and conflict
isn't always
synonymous
to opportunity
It will forever be
a thorn
in my soul
Yet, that
bastard
has caused me
to not run away but
to run INTO
God

Sure there is adversity
in daily existence
that you need
to keep slugging with
in spite of
being bored
to death
And while
I am
busy living
I am also
busy getting myself
distracted
to make that
daily existence
bearable
at least

Nevertheless, there
is always something
to be thankful for:
sex
food
work
beautiful family
being fucking alive
and this art
that has become my
saving grace

But there
is something
special about those
nut-cracking moments:
You let loose of
your grasp
off yourself
and your advantages
both tangible and illusory
and find yourself
clinging instead
to the Rock of Ages
Only when you
do so
can you
tap the power
Power that
is greater than
anything earthly
or mortal
The kind of
power that
keeps the galaxies
afloat to light up
the vast depth
of nothingness

Adversity causes
one to
improvise
It yells at you
at the top of
it’s lungs
to get the
fuck out
of the ordinary
before you succumb
and watch the
best of you die
without seeing the
dawn break

But I haven’t
totally lost
yet
my sanity
by asking
fervently
for my
share of
perennial
uphill goings
just to
always experience
God’s grand
deliverance

With much
supplication
I ask that
I would instead meet
His
presence

everywhere

from highs and lows
and most especially
the mundane

Struggles of a minimalist who wishes to write extravagant poetry

The minimalist
Willingly calloused himself
Stripped off his senses
Scarce in words
As much as thoughts
Gets upset not with a
Few clothes
A few jeans
Or zero mobile data
Afraid he’ll be creatively bankrupted
By social media
Despite having revered as god
He has locked horns with minimalism
For poetry’s sake
Unfamiliar feelings he now writes
With inappropriate words
Of a child quivering before a dentist
The motocross rider as he somersaults
A lover whose tears from the raindrops you cannot tell
To be answered “yes” or “I do” by a lady
The things he shuns
To not let his feelings run
Stoicism rivalling that of Marcus Aurelius
A layer of rock
That take eons to wear
He then realized
He has flesh and blood
He can grin
And he can fuckin’ cry!
He’s not a machine gun
That eat bullets
And spew them who the hell knows
How much rpm
Now he aches to write poetry
Vivid and teeming with life
And the feelings he trained himself to abhor
The superfluous often thrown to the dogs
Like a whore
That will make him sore
With a red carpet and open arms
He now welcomes home
Albeit, he writes clumsily
A virgin lover in a quandary
Whether he’ll
Kiss her or fondle
Screws up his words, falters and all
Still he writes some more
For non other than he can fathom
It’s only poetry that will save his soul

Wisa

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