Wasted Time So do we fall sweetly against the brittle gunk and waste the very minutes of a peaceful ending. So it was written, and spoken, and so shall it be written down again. Many sit, wait, and wonder when.
Cruel Reality A classic song screams out through my radio, “We won’t get fooled again!” Unless we don’t pay attention in history class, Or worse, when we don’t bother to ask any questions. Yet soft, Do not let your words enable “deconstruction.” Fight on weirdos, fight on freaks, Fight on. Stanza 2, the part whereContinue reading “Cruel Reality, a poem for our times”
The state fair always had some of the best attractions, new rides at the causeway, a different type of fried something dipped into something else, and exhibits of art and science from across the state. This year the fair managed to score one of the countries most popular touring attractions, WALK WITH THE DINOSAURS. InContinue reading “The Exhibit, a short story about animatronic dinosaurs and mortality”
Perfection Is A Waste of Time You can’t go to hell if you are already there, And perfection is the death of art. The pursuit of perfection, Is the birth of mediocrity. Mediocrity can be no one’s muse. But perfection is tedium, Soulless and tedious. These words to the wordsmith, are trivial repetitive garbage. SoulContinue reading “Perfection is a waste of time (a poem)”
Self Care Self care, Not selfish. It is not self care to not care. Self care, Not escapism. It is not self care to ignore it. Self care, Another radical term, Coopted by soccer-moms and aging Deadheads. Self care, Not an excuse. It is not self care, It is in no way care, To letContinue reading “Self Care (a poem)”
water is life, and oil is made of dinosaurs and the 45th president of the USA is a reality TV star. These are facts.
Work work work work work. More important that I eat, Than you feel welcome.
Not my President. Not even my TV star, NOT MY PRESIDENT.
Donnie dropped the comb into the gold plated bathroom sink again for what felt like the billionth time. “FUCK!” Donnie screamed in frustration. Donnie hated how the stubby fingers on his tiny hands could never get a firm grip on anything they tried to hold. He fished the comb out of the sink bowl andContinue reading “Donnie’s Daddy, A short story by James J. Jackson, Jr.”
If you are black, your life matters to me. If you are a woman, a man, or any gender or name, you are safe at night with me. And if you are catcalled, raped, violeted or touched, Reach out to me, and I will remind you just how strong you are.Continue reading “If You Are…”
Chapter 10 I didn’t awake until 9:40, well after my parents had awaken. I’m sure my substance consumption from the night before played a part. I still had no problem repeating it. I popped and snorted the last of the pills and smoked at least a gram of the dope and a bit of hash. Continue reading “The Burden of Empathy : Chapter 10”
Chapter 3 I awoke around 8:10. When you’re a stoner you sleep incredibly well, but the morning after you go to sleep high is always a sluggish one, which I have every day. I awake feeling languid but with out the euphoria, your muscles are also tense and achy from a lack of changing positionsContinue reading “The Burden of Empathy : Chapter 3”
I have been called to my own self defense, I am no madman, I am nothing but a bounty, of love and resource for all, for all who want and accept it. I am not a madman. I am a presence that makes no Continue reading “I Am Not a MadMan”