It’s mainly the lockdown
And warning impingings
Telling me my body
Cannot do as much
After already having
Pushed beyond limits
I’ll still get up and try by
Calculated workarounds
It’s mainly the lockdown
And warning impingings
Telling me my body
Cannot do as much
After already having
Pushed beyond limits
I’ll still get up and try by
Calculated workarounds
There are no words
For what I’m feeling
The trust needed
To rely upon you
To allow you to
Take on weight
How could I even give or
Know what to ask of you?
Being as it has all ultimately
Been up to me to guarantee
I only struggle harder now
For even smaller advances
Which honesty creates panic
When limbs need down time
It’s all I can do to
Step up to the old
“Could we rebalance inharmonics?”
He asked me what I thought to be cause
I presented him with nature’s inbreeding
Could he thus then have any compassion
For a race that murdered for propagation?
We must
While we can
So they can find us
And learn of our truth
Before all
Is lost again
Gears designed
Define purpose
By rewinding
Time ending
Linear effigy
Dismantles
Freeing Man
And Woman
“How would we even begin to
Address the myriad minutiae?!”
Waiting in bed to let
Body catch up to self
Recovering from work efforts
Vs.
Networking for more marketing
Brief momentum
Dissipating relies
Upon regatherimg
Strength to push
Music slumbers within me
Awaiting union’s harmony
Why is it so darn hot out there?
At least this year I have the AC!
(Title Riddick movie reference)
I had a job under pressure, working my bootie off for so much less money, in a no-win, time-crunch situation.
But though I sweated and the timing was hectic, I could do it if paced myself – and I felt no pain with good muscle coordination.
It was nice in those dream moments to not be injured.
“Why would you be here for me while I’m dealing with my injuries?
What if I don’t recover?
Do you think I’m worthy?”
Happier after much water!
Spnning wheels
Over same tracks
Anything accomplished
Is just matter of opinion
Consumerism hunting
For this or that object
In day’s heat because
It is too hot to garden
Or to catch up on dishes
From broken dishwasher
Where ableism assumes
Shoulders have no limits
As she hefted the onus of recovery
She allowed her mother’s imprint
To settle over her countenance
Warding off weak, angry men
Who would have once
Seen her as desireable
Avoiding men her age helped
To subvert ingrained training
By generation undeserving
Propagating violent biases
Which counted against any
Ranking they might’ve had
“Apparently, my keyboard stand has a name!”
Having just pulled fresh leftovers
Out of fridge, placing onto counter
I soon after reached for and drank a
Warm, bitter-sour days-old belatedly
Realizing discarded cups also there
As hastily followed consuming new
Asking stomach’s grace internally if
We could get away with imposition
Letting remains just pass through
Making nary a wake in trespassing
“Only the lonrly can play.”
(Motels band song reference)
Ponytail
Hasty tie
Rarely down
Can we just do
Our own thing?
I’m not really
Interested
In keeping up
With Joneses
Except when
Necessary
Gone is the dream:
That young guy and
Cheerleader fantasy
I knew you knew
Sensing the taint
It’s why I reached out
With gentle carress
To let you know
I felt your pain
Valid as mine
In owed debt
Deserving
To be paid
Reframed
Get you hooked
Then begging
For a taste
(Content warning, not posted, note to self)
Basically, if I am in a constant
State of life-instability stress,
This will keep triggering lockdown
Preventing me from cracking code
We were born to be as one with nature
Yet taught allegience to false masters
Manipulation’s fear by violence
Imprinting lore of false prophets
Whereas it’s even noted in the Quran
That Jesus will come spit upon them
“You don’t need a man…you need a champion.”
(Quote from movie: Eat, Pray, Love)