Subservient

Subservient to you
To all your vacant notions
Underneath your shoe
Without any commotion

And I'm feeling tread upon
My head is hot with fever
When I lift high my thoughts
Your gravity holds me here

Subservient to you
And your dangerous notions
The many and the few
That serve with sad devotion

That I feel so put upon
Put upon like clothes
My head here, my heart gone
Left a sense of bitter loathing

Subservient... subservient
With time enough to fall apart

Deep Down, You're Not Fooling Anyone

Misshapen angels
Wings without flight
Relieved by disbelief
Of this desperate insight.

And all the while laughing
For after all, why not?
These misshapen angels
Know they're all we've got.

Fall back on superstition
Anything will do
Like bedtime fairy tales
Or mathematical proofs.

We all need to believe
We all need an excuse
So we can hide our scars
Like misshapen angels do.

Ordinary Relativity

Moving frame of reference
With no view of space or time
Lost my way in the confusion
Unraveled as I unwind

Knowledge with respect
To all that we can see
Trying hard to be
Both man and machine

Watching light bend
And dilation of time
Everything is relative
The law is the crime

Planet Nothing Special
Species ill-conceived
Gravity never needed
For you to believe

Untitled Experimental

we stood and faced a mighty insurrection
as cracks formed all around the galaxy
my armor of broken glasses and wool shirt
held strong against the university's attack
we shall forever remain uneducated
we shall forever maintain filtered ideology
we shall torture our math into limericks
our words live without grammatical consent

The Art of Disbelief

What's my place?
To agree or disagree?
To interrogate myself,
In the art of disbelief?

So many faces gone...
Like pictures on a wall...
While life passed my eyes--
Like Super 8 filmed-loss.

The unreported petty theft
Of my childhood dreams
Another hard lesson
In the art of disbelief.

A Fiction Understood

waiting on a door to open
waiting for a window to see
that i'm just standing here
trying so hard to disbelieve

living the lonely process
of me destroying me
yet i keep standing here
trying to be what i need

don't tie my hands together
or leave me alone to fate
i might pretend i'm sleeping
but my heart is wide awake

and there's a wide wide world
that feels most suffocating
when you watch it from a box
upon the lonely air you're breathing

there's a fiction understood
an illusion so profane
assented by necessity
to get through another day

it binds me ever tightly
and there is no abating
these feelings of desperation
and all that keeps me waiting

identity crisis

earth-shaking fears and the feeling of strangulation
by such recalcitrant tears that i hid like a child
and i didn't just hide but hid what i found sacred
in a thousand curses and blasphemies of pride

pride that grew from the rejection of my place
well, you can reject it, but it never goes away
it gnaws on your bones like a feral child inside
it fights for life in the space between my compromises

and it is with great pain very often sublimated
with great shame that i know who i am
that my name stands proud on the tip of my tongue
quickly bitten back into bitter subjection

and i taste the bitter blood in my mouth
listening quietly to my heartbeat slow, soften
i know that this moment is a respite
the child never goes, just fights to let me know

i'm not me at all, but the one i fear to show--with affectation
pitiful, vulgar affectation