Tag Archives: opinion

Insecure Context

I found my words lacking, my face was not as expressive as I wished.

My delivery was dry, my hair flailing my confidence waning.

Of all the trials I’ve bested this was a new strange.

An anomaly on the elevated life stage.

You see there was a beautiful female who I’d begun talking with.

Her countenance was shy so I didn’t need to be guarded instead.

I stayed as long as I could and was utterly captivated.

I was caught up in our talks when I remembered.

They came pouring like a stream:

All my flaws all at once
I was short and pudgy
I was not conventionally funny
I was an addict once

I had failed at almost everything I tried
She was successful and was probably tired
Of seeing flailing corpses be charming
Sometimes when its cold my features can look more alarming

I walked like I kicked a stone every step
I run like a vat of jello on the highway
I don’t eat a lot so my body conserves
I then over eat and add to my fatty reserves

I hide affection for people because it seems weird to be honest
I only care about my family
I have few friends to speak of when I’m honest
I get honest without alcohol inside of me

They came pouring and the situation changed
Because I could not now have a talk with her
I’d have to leave as soon as she had left I bailed
I’d rather forget my face at a bar

Doubly Evil

I think about tropes all the time and other such things that can be repetitively occurrent in unrelated areas. The manner and form in which these present themselves is more important than tropes themselves to me.

A brief look into my reasoning is in order. I am not among people who decry the use or over-use of tropes in any given medium. Some even go as far as stating what tropes need to die giving subjective reasons like being outdated or being discriminatory or being offensive. I had the same mind myself recovering tales and I would have wide reaching shock and awe in my stories just for that reason but it was never true or resonant with my past, present and possible future self so I became of the mind that one has to work with what they have in any given situation.

The trope i am referring to in very uncertain terms in which an evil character is introduced who has both an absolute and a qualified agenda. Qualified agendas include revenge,retribution and justice where the target is specific and illusive, absolute agendas include wanting to destroy the world or a country where the collateral damage is not an obstacle but a necessary result of dealings. The idea that a person is aware completely of the full ramifications of an absolute vendetta is beyond my understanding, most people do not understand what a million pounds is without relating it to another thing that has smaller countable units. It is a stretch to think that they would understand what it means to destroy a city fully and be okay with it. Nevertheless, qualified agendas are easy to understand or distantly empathise with as a result of the range of destruction being somewhat contained.

A wise person once said about superheroes that seem to be timeless that the stories are about relatable people in fantastical scenarios. I think that is the truth in other forms of writing, it is harder to believe that someone would want to destroy a country than to avenge a loved one’s death. The truth is that things as large as conquests and genocides can be in retrospect and in experience, they have been built off the back of simpler things than holding the whole world responsible for the evil wrought upon one’s life. The Sokoto Jihad may have taken place if Uthman DanFodio was allowed to preach in the city and two movies worth of people may not have died if kidnappers let Liam Neeson’s daughter go.

In essence, I am saying that evil is a hard sell on its own merits but simple things are easy to latch onto and the explanation for the full evil could be a result of the original evil wrought by the doers of wrong.


I connect when I’m supposed to
It keeps failing all of it
I find time to do what I wanted too
It needs time and a lot of it

I think I may be feeling things
It’s wrong most every time
I find myself believing scenes
It fights with my logic rhyme

I like a female at least I think I do
It’s not a thing I see in my future
No long term I may leave in 10 months still have no clue
But she’s a friend to me and I think it’s mutual

She knows people I know but way longer
I’m the least likely on the line up
Also I can’t be involved with a colleague it’s not proper
I can’t take risks with no surety so ill just shut up


She wore a knife atop her wrist

Broken hearts as me she kissed

Many a moment passed and here we were at last

My heads were by my side so stunned, aghast


She had her hands under my chin

Beating hearts as me she killed

No hidden body and my eyes open wide

I’d died with a kiss and a boner i couldn’t hide


What love was lost when none was had?

My body lifeless, bloated on the ground

I wish I never went to that stupid place

But He said I might never again get this grace


I dreamed what I didn’t know you shared

Every night of my lover running scared

I was scared I would lose you by saying something stupid

The only other who broke more hearts was cupid

A hill to die on

I woke up one bright early day
looking for a hill to die on
I saw a tweet about rocketman Yay
That is a journey worth trying

I picked up my clothes and folded them
Put them all in a bag neatly
I put on my glasses to look at the realm
And was off on the journey swiftly

I happened upon a bridge made wholly of wood
With three trolls standing smack in the middle
Who said they’d let me pass if I answered the riddle
What’s jolly and oaky and sounds like it’s good

The answer was clear it was Hollywood
The trolls departed sprinkling a fag or two on me as I passed
The horrid smell of cigarettes quickly passed
And soon there were sounds in the woods

I could hear roars and cheers and critters and twitters
Walked toward the roars to find a thorny hydra named Dragon
It said I had to find out which head housed liquid delusion
I waved my fingers and pointed at the third of its members

The head approached and came forward out of itself
It was a beautiful shell like they had promised
I left with one assurance not to be alone with its ideas by myself
Also to deflect whenever it asked what I’d promised

I started up the hill as the shell was on a satchel behind me
I could see the hill on the horizon
I could see a new Sun rising
A few more steps I thought and then I’m free

I saw other hills as I passed toward my goal
The shell tried to talk me out of my dreams
I passed The known- justice, the rationalist and blurry extremes
Could now see without my glasses, I was whole

I looked down and saw I was in the valley of the sound beliefs
Where everything I believed was backed by data
Even my wondering thoughts were sound beyond critiques
And in fact the critics were haters

I got to my hill to see others had cropped on it
It was someone’s attempt to solve a problem but they cared little
Well I was done caring about what people thought of it
So I lay my bed and slept till my eyes were only open a little


Walking on water was fine
Stepping on the moon was good
But there’s none to stay in line
There’s none to give food

The lofty is easier than the simple man
To project is not to empathise
You can save that man yes you can
But does it look good in the camera’s eyes

Warring factions in my new old land
Perilous stories that never end
My forefathers went through the rapids bend
To put their feet on cooler sand

Their struggle is not mine
Their suffering a foreign language
I read about it in a book online
It was interesting like a Facebook adage

Dark Rainbow

I once was painting a rainbow on this vast canvass
With red and yellow and a smile
I looked closer with a magnifying glass
And all I did was stare for a while

One of my brush strokes in this three month period
Had been unfavourable in the scheme
It was a smudge that looked like a being
Here I was a painter and a God

I took out my 2h pencil and sketched the features
Here was a woman of middle age
That fate had dealt with in rage
She had been good person who excelled in chores

What smile she had was worn by the wiles of living
She had marks that had been lesions
Her back a sick tapestry of the other end of giving
When men touched her skin she’d go blank into a vision

She’d erred on the side of kindness
But failed to be evil
She’d had her bouts of madness
But bore in mind her people

Was virtue hers in essence
Or was she a victim of herself
Was life a tyrant seeking obedience
Or was she just a book on a shelf

I left my glass of magnifying and almost burned my rainbow
But if I did she’d be dead with no chance to know
If things could be better, if this was a bend
So I hung up a dark rainbow right above my bed