Grey Rock Method.

When you speak poison, frothing at the mouth, dripping down your chin

I choose not to indulge; I’ve always got better things to do

And while you form inconsequential judgments on issues you’re yet to understand

I use my time to think of lines and rhymes that make me smile.

And when your attempt to lure me into yet another one of your self-serving conflicts fails

I smile, from within — not at your failed attempts — that ship has already sailed;

Your failure is re-current, old news, guaranteed.

I smile, because despite your unwarranted noise, I finally found that rhyme.

– O.D. ©2020

Art by: oCeyx

Critical-thinking is such an under-valued skill ladies and gentlemen. I’ve lost count of how many times people vent to me, then call my name in an accusatory manner simply because I’m not saying anything or re-enforcing yet another one of their “all important” issues.

It’s hard, telling people, in a nice way, that I have far more pressing issues to attend to. And that their new issue, which in their view is world ending, is far from being my top priority.

Usually, they proceed to say, “Tell me what’s bothering you then?” or “Why not just tell me if you’re not listening”. I’ve had many opportunities to follow up on this request in the past, never ends well. 

In both cases, the approach is more a challenge than anything.

“Tell me what’s bothering you then?” : That’s not how it works, your lack of boundaries does not directly correlate to me. If your personal matters are as open to exploring as a night worker consider remembering we’re not all in the same bracket. 

“Why not just tell me when you’re not listening?” :  Do you understand the number of distractions people face day to day? moment to moment? This request is irrational. Even the most avid listeners will have a stray thought here and there. This question strikes me as a guilt tripping ploy. You want someone to feel bad about not listening. A better question to ask would be “Is what I’m saying important to you right now?”

Answer? “No” and not because I’m an a**hole (not entirely) but because it’s true for most people. Your issue, no matter how severe, will probably affect me momentarily but I wont lie and tell you that i’ll lose sleep over it. Call me evil but at least I’m not lying.

Someone with critical thinking would realize they are venting and giving nothing of value. Just noise. Me not listening to a vent session is not a crime that warrants accusatory questioning. Finish venting, and if its done, it’s done. An apology for blind-siding someone with a vent session is always a nice touch. It shows a willingness to be accountable for your actions.

This is one of the many reasons I stay alone. I quickly pick up on the minutiae. inconsistencies, attempts to manipulate, vampirism and a crippling low self-esteem. I don’t have a problem with the last one provided someone owns up to it. Don’t make thinking of yourself as a loser my fault or my problem.

Forgive me God, but some of your people suck serious a**.  

And I know I suck too ,that’s why I’m adamant not to subjugate anyone (but myself) to my own bullsh*t. 

Side note and ender: When I share these snippets, I hope you never see me as the victim, because I’m not. Fishing for sympathy and having charisma is how you start a damn cult.

 

Soul Diary Entry.

I do not seek happiness.

Happiness is a kick — a high — a distraction.

Like that stray golden leaf you follow

As it kites itself into a dark cavern

Guiding you to nothing but a dead-end; 

The only way forward?

Out. From whence you came.

No, instead, I seek joy. Hard won, born of self-fulfillment

Sustained of my own volition and will power;

Untethered from anyone; tempered from within,

From within this vessel we call a body,

A body, that houses my soul,

My soul, in a body, I can truly call home.

– O.D. ©2021

Art by: AngelGanev

Hope only means something to me when it’s real. When I wholeheartedly believe in it. Not when it comes from sourcing platitudes. I need to feel hopeful to write hopeful poetry; otherwise what am I doing? Lying. At least that’s what it means to me.

I write what I feel. And most of the time I feel like sh*t and that’s what I write. The up-side is you’ll know when I write something “good” I’ll genuinely be feeling that way. I know many people want to come on WP and read things that make them feel better. The good news is I never took the mantle to do that, only to be myself. And if no-one likes who I am, I have to wonder what they’ll be doing here when there are plenty of positivity blogs out there.

I owe it to other human beings to be my most authentic self. My only hope is they do the same. Otherwise please stay away from me.

Anyway, going back to the poem. IF I was to give unsolicited advice right now I’d say “Don’t ever let anyone be your reason for being happy. It’s a dangerous game”

But since I’m NOT giving unsolicited advice there’s nothing I’m saying in the above line lol I care enough to hypothetically tell you what not to do whilst not telling you what to do (?)

Poetry, To Me (3)

Poetry, To Me (1)  *  Poetry, To Me (2) *

*************

Chaos surges over … under… through… my formless soul,

You’d think I’m born of cast iron;

The way it swirls and bubbles within me — picture a witch’s cauldron,

Dark and divine energies, merging and undulating.

A process forever moving, persistently Illuminating all immediate surroundings

Squint your eyes lest hit by the glare factor of an eclipse

What is poetry, but my best attempts to convey that same chaos to you

Through this medium, in a manner closest to order — or rather,

In a way that bridges our understanding.

– O.D. ©2021

Art by:  KihOskh714

Black Fire Depository.

You can call me black — no harm done,

Limitations of language and understanding.

You can even take it to the 70s and go full Rhodesian

Despising and metricizing worldly pigments.

 

 It’s not your fault for being that stupid — they call it dualism of the mind

And you, my friend, are a slave to one side of that coin

Shackled, to the fickle nature of hauling five senses.

Collared, lovingly, to the physical realm — like a mangy dog neglected by its owner

You are in the late stages of spiritual starvation; married to earthly hallucinations;

I don’t expect you to see past that mirage —

To see how my spirit burns, a blaze untamed

In a reality you’ll never understand.

 

Diagnosing me as the devil is the first step to misidentifying my presence

Demon possessed? Maybe.

Are you afraid? You shouldn’t be.

I’m beyond such petty schemes

Peddling cheap scares — pandering — placating

Surface level habits that give me nothing.

You’d do well to call this a panoramic view of satori —

I see it all. The collective sequence of events that denote your existence

I was built to be a passive observer of humanity’s choices and lack thereof.

Your life will begin and it will end with the deterministic value of a movie reel

And there I’ll be,

Using this body you hate so much to live through yet another Earth rehearsal;

Living through yet another time where you’ve seized to exist.

Confessions of a star seed:

This body will pass on

But my spirit and vision will continue pursuing what’s beyond;

Maybe as a sick joke next time I’ll possess one of you.

 

Dear racist, if all of that flew over your head

Do me a favor and at least try to understand this:

“You hating this flesh — this color,

Is not a waste of my time;

It’s a waste of yours”

 

– O.D. ©2020

 

Art by: ricardothb

 

I’m not in the mood to be nice. To be fair, I haven’t been in that mood for a while now.

When the BLM chants gained steam early this year, I refused to write about it here. Felt insincere as there were plenty of people voicing what I already felt. Furthermore, I’m not guided by some ethical imperative that dictates I prove my loyalty as a black person every time there is an injustice. It doesn’t make me more empathetic to be involved. I don’t need to prove myself. Simply look at how many posts I’ve written regarding black injustice (tracing years back) to see what I mean. I was speaking against injustice long before George Floyd’s unfortunate murder. There have been many others who people seem to forget and I fear listing all of them right now would dilute the point I’m trying to make.

Appealing to racists and entertaining their worldview (even as an Empath) is far too much for me. There are bad people to be found in all races, but many people are quick to try and play devil’s advocate before they catch up on their history. I’m talking Tulsa race massacre, the Tuskegee Syphilis study e.t.c .

Honestly? Do that first, then get back to me. 

And before you say that all of these events “took place ages ago” and I should move on”, I in kind, would gladly ask you to go f*ck yourself.

 

Soul Tessellation.

c_r_o_w_n___by_angelganev_ddu6vwu-fullview

What matters is what I think of myself.

Everything else is just …

Noise.

 

– O.D. ©2020

 

Art by: AngelGanev

 

I get a lot of unsolicited advice on who I am — who I should be — what I should do and what I should feel. As irritating as that is, I keep quiet because I’ve grown tired of telling people “Thanks for trying, but I’ll only do what I want”. Better to let them mouth off whatever they’ve siphoned from la la land if it makes them feel important. I used to think its disingenuous, letting people dole out advice when I wasn’t listening.  So I would cut their sermons midway, but then feelings got hurt, so hey, by all means. Speak.  

While we’re on this subject, this Politically Correct world is a mess. Take this micro-poem for example. To avoid offending some people I’d have to preface it by saying “I’m not saying what other people say isn’t important, I’m saying what I tell myself is important”. To me, that’s garbage.

I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you if I haven’t infringed on your freedom. How does saying I only care what I think of myself affect you negatively? It shouldn’t. What bothers you, is you thinking your opinion is important, far more than it actually is.

Too often, people over-estimate how valuable their input is. Rein in your ego — just because your lover swoons at every little thing you say, doesn’t make everyone else your lover. Tone down, relax. Your one-size-fits-all mentality shows just how shallow you think people are; and perhaps by extension, you.

People are complex, varied and in need of different things. Treat everyone with respect, be open to seeing who they are, not who you think they are. And if all of that sounds like too much work — Give this post a hard pass and keep tracing your stencil, outlining every single person you meet. Soon after? Stop whining when people call you out for being an entitled *bleep*.

The absurdity in the title carries the same absurdity I find permeating in people who assume knowing one person is knowing them all. (I don’t usually like explaining my poetry titles – but whatever) see, there’s no way in hell souls can tessellate. Souls have no shape, souls are not bound by polygons or vertices. Or maybe they are — if you are content with having a limited imagination. Either way, Good luck fitting me on your mosaic pattern of souls.

The gall to call me “proud” simply because I’m not a kiss a** who needs approval from anyone. I’ve burnt plenty of bridges to get where I am today. What’s one more?

Far be it from me to tell you how to live your life. Last I checked I wasn’t a pastor.

No …

I’m just a guy who loves writing

Roses Past The Deep End.

r_e_a_s_o_n_s_by_angelganev_ddbr7i6-fullview

I’ve made many, many mistakes.

And I’ll continue to.

But through each one, I’ve come to learn a great deal;

Resist the temptation to leer at my pitfalls

You might just see something.

 

– O.D. ©2020

 

Art by: AngelGanev

CLOUDs (RetrospectIve)

Ideally, poets run a retrospective on someone else’s writing other than their own. You know, to not come across as a pretentious and self-absorbed a**hole. But I don’t know any better.

Once in a while I’m going to start looking over past pieces and sharing what my headspace was at the time. See, I would do this with anyone else’s writing provided I knew them as well as I do myself, but I don’t. So yes, I’ll risk being perceived as self-absorbed a** if means I get to finish this intro a little faster (We good? Good)

 

*****

“The one who will change your world, everyone waits for such a person. It’s the one who willspark a particular side in you and change your perspective on love entirely. Where they are, and what they’re doing is an unknown, but as days go by, you draw ever closer. The relationship will not be perfect because of the persons’ stunning good looks, it will in fact be who they are and what they do that brings the best out of you. It is the one who, unlike the rest of the horde, will not be an additional statistic to your list of lingering problems, but a solution to all of them. Their love will be so strong and warm, it will feel as if they have a physical manifestation of their feelings towards you. Whenever they are in close proximity, you will feel like you’re in a safe haven. It is that one person who will understand you like no other human could. The one who will not tolerate you, but love you unconditionally. That one person who has the ability to increase synergy in a relationship regardless of an argument. It is the one who will give you a reason to smile after a long and hard day, a happiness donor if you will. It is the one you can’t wait to stand with at the end of the aisle. Such a person is undoubtedly hard to find, but eliminating the possibility is tantamount to giving up. People who believe in finding such a person are considered wishful thinkers by a larger fraction of the populace. Indeed, they might be, however it seems notably better to be on the team that still believes in true love and fairy tales than the one that settles for the first frog they see in the pond. Patience is a key virtue, no-one ever said the one you’ll ultimately love will have a name tag. The person could be right next to you, or you may not share any geography or landmarks at the moment, but one thing is for certain, you draw ever closer.” 

 

*****

 

CLOUDs, initially when I wrote this series I was in a relationship; if I could even call it that. Honestly, a parade would have been a more subtle declaration of love than the slow-mo train-wreck that was soon to follow. This piece is the result of being in love with the idea of love and not at all being familiar with the work that comes when you are actually in love. I was a sweet child, because I had even started a category titled “Cloud 9” prepped for moments in my life when I’d be juiced up by someone’s else’s affection.

Outside the obvious lack of spacing, or the eye-breathers we’ve come to call “paragraphs” I really was at the beginning of my writing career. I had been repeatedly told that I’m naive (I still am) but based on present metrics my naivety back then was on a whole new level. You don’t need to look far, simply read the beginning …

“The one who will change your world, everyone waits for such a person”

This is the line that compelled me to do this retrospective. My cringe-o-meter’s needle was tap-dancing in the red, wondering what vein injection elicited me to adopt this head space. Sure, it’s sweet, but the idea of waiting for someone else to make me happy is baffling. I liken it to waiting for permission, and I don’t think anyone should wait. It’s not fair on you nor the person you’re waiting for to start being happy.

“…will not be an additional statistic to your list of lingering problems, but a solution to all of them”

I grew up holding onto this ideal love, a love that pushed me to make a lot of dumb decisions. I don’t use that word lightly, but when critiquing myself I don’t know how else to phrase it.

“The one who will not tolerate you but love you unconditionally”

Nope.

“That one person who has the ability to increase synergy in a relationship regardless of an argument”

I’ve been cruising my past lines through a conveyor belt of lava up until this point but some part of me agrees with this line. I’ve been in many arguments since then and this is something I still relate to.  Disagreements and misunderstandings are inevitable, but through careful consideration and open-mindedness many bridges are easy to mend. I’ve known many people who – despite both of us being wrong in an argument are not willing to let something go until you apologize for having an opinion that differs from theirs (or until they punish you).

I prefer just calling them the “n” word. No, not that one;  narcissists. I like good vibes, but not when the pre-requisite is cowering and doing my best to overlook someone else’s toxicity.

“People who believe in finding such a person are considered wishful thinkers by a larger fraction of the populace”

First off, there were no statistics to support this. My mental inclination at the time seemed to associate the idea of being part of the minorities as “special”; it’s not. You either believe what you want to believe or you don’t. Having a greater or lesser chunk of the consensus is not what assures your importance in the universe.  

Now there’s nothing wrong with wanting what I outlined in this piece. I’m not against love; I’m against co-dependency being an archetypal representation of love and harmony. To me, that’s not love , but an un-aired pitch for a black mirror episode.

“…it seems notably better to be on the team that still believes in true love and fairy-tales than the one that settles for the first frog they see in the pond”

I actually still believe in fairy-tales. In fact, I live my fairy-tales each and every day; through writing, exercising my imagination and occasionally lucid dreaming. I believe people should live their fairy-tales in ways they can sustain on their own. Fairy-tales shouldn’t be induced by someone else entering the picture. I just think that’s far too much power to be handing to a stranger (or whoever) …but what do I know….

dcsy3vp-dc336c0d-fbe4-45dc-9ada-0bdb5dc6ef69

Usually when I read work I’ve done in the past, I’m transported to that time and place. I feel everything and I recall how I formed certain connections. Sometimes, I retroactively use these connections to remind myself of the value system I’ve come to build over time. By immortalizing context I can rely on an admittedly unorthodox method of self-assurance.

However, when it comes to this one (CLOUDs), I can’t recall the feeling. I am a stranger to myself in this piece; I have no idea how it all came together. There is only so much I can pin on my inexperience as a writer whilst glaring at blatant falsehoods.

Yep, a phony. Peddling hope as currency. I remember coming off a disastrous break-up during that time — a well earned one too. This prose passage was me trying to imagine someone better than my immediate ex; because I couldn’t bear reflecting on my pain. “What will my readers think of me? I’m a happy person. Depression is lame”

No matter what you think of me, I’m right because I’m talking about myself. It’s been fun; see you later (?)

(Bringing another set of unpopular opinions next week Friday)

 

– O.D. ©2020

 

Art by: snatti89

Spirit Rift (Collaboration)

A collaboration with Tara from Raw Earth Ink through poetry; alternating sets of verses.  Please visit her blog and check out her amazing work. No time to waste 😉 Let’s get into it:

 

*******

 

Sand grains massage our feet,

Waves hit our ankles, toppling our sandcastles

No, we’re not sad, but we’re definitely a little salty,

Literally — our toes watered, sand-drenched-deep 

In the warmth of mother earth’s caress —

Absorbing all that we can sea

Past the sun-kissed vanishing point

To us, the Sun sets how it rises; 

We are strangers to the darkness and it’s cherry covered lips  

The evening? What’s that? 

We are one — an extension — Permutations of the light

We are wherever it is.

 

Sun rise, sun set, moon rise, sun rise

Blink and the future has become the past

Afternoon? Day break?

We stand still and clouds wax, then wane

The salt-encrusted waves brush our shins

Retreat

The great work of our hands melt

Harden and melt right before watering eyes

 

Sadness holds our hands

We shiver but stand firm

Part of something greater we will never be a part of

Cracked lips smile and part

Teeth glowing from inner light

Laughter spills like tears

We grow

 

–  And grow, far-reaching — think liana vines intertwining,

Precisely how our minds move and wander,

Travelling past stars littering the cosmos,

They’re all over the place;

It’s no insult when you say we’ve since lost them

 

No metric for the merging of gifted imaginations

Hardly human, yet a brush with barbed wire still leaves us bruised

Surprise-surprise, mouths agape when our blood leaks with an ethereal glow,

To pass time, we play squash using the end of this universe

In-between ricochets, we convey the entirety of that experience through verse.

 

“What’s that in the air?” – “Is it a bird?” –  “Is it a plane?”

No, it’s simply our minds coming back.

 

Coming back, coming back 

from winding paths and circling constellations 

It’s all a game, isn’t it? 

games and gains 

Points received and penalties taken

We morph, grow; expand like dark matter 

pushing us faster and faster 

to the edges of the unknowable known universe 

The further out we look 

the further in we perceive 

in reality it’s push-and-pull 

all coming back again

 

The dream-verse surrounds and engulfs 

Lifting cliffs of fantasy and rivers of science

Fields full of poppies and poetry

A sky dusted with possibility 

An ocean seized with salted lust

 

Salt, salt, yes, minerals coating toes

We dip in and retreat

Shift from one foot to the other

Watching the horizon, time slips

 

Like our souls during an ephemeral passage into a spirit rift

Say hello to the terrestrial embodiment of your unspoken spirit guides

Language is recursive, and this piece fits snugly at the end of it

Each flick of the wrist with that raw earth ink uncovers secrets of the galaxy

Take care to go slowly, rein in the need to OD on the knowledge;

Digest at varying paces but let nothing fly over your head

 

We strike the balance with little to nothing to show for tipping scales

A sample of humble pie to go with our cup of due pride

We were always told to dine on a balanced diet

And this is it — two burning souls cooking all waking senses

Leaving them simmering, don’t you worry;

All you need do is form a single file

For there is plenty of love, clarity and empathy

For all.

 

– O.D. & Raw Earth Ink ©2020

Loveless Nights And Foaming Rims.

The unnamed guy series 1

Here is the unnamed guy series part 2, spiritual successor to the unnamed girl series; which is already complete, you can check it out here. I’m curious to see where this story goes from here. You’re in, yeah?

********

The cost of being real. No one ever explicitly says it.

You lose everything — you start to question yourself often

Questioning whether you ever truly had anything.

Passing me compliments? Please,

Send those through an indefinite quarantine process

Not everyone means what they say.

And you’d be a fool to think otherwise.

I’m not the hero, nor am I the villain

But I wish I was. That way I could have a role to fill,

To be subservient to the idea of purpose —

Maybe then everything would be a little easier

Seeing everything in black and white like designing a zebra.

But that’s wishful thinking

Once you see much of what this world has

It’s hard to go back. I find love at the bottom of a bottle

The circle that touches the coaster embodies the closest I’ll get to a ring

I don’t mean to get esoteric, but blame that on the formation of language

Never would I spoon feed my struggles solely for your entertainment.

Reality is a fabric I’ve since threaded with my own visions

Took time, but I finally have a picture of God behind my eye lids

They’d call that blasphemy but that’s precisely why I’m not in a church

Look at them, open-minded when the pastor is behind the pulpit,

But as dull as a brick as soon as anyone else speaks.

Double standards like incels and toxic feminists.

I stand at the border of what you have yet to understand

I say this politely but, no matter how tempting, “don’t push me”

Yes, I would fall, but you would be the one to die

Loveless nights, sure — but no one ever said freedom comes free

Fall in love and have a mansion full of kids in peace

And while you’re at it. Speak nothing of me.

I don’t owe anyone but the creator my time.

People threaten to leave like I can’t live without them

You would have had better luck when I was nothing but an infant

I spin my words and meanings into a reality I deem fit

Keeping madness at bay as best I can.

Tomorrow is another day — Another day I get to choose

Another day I get to choose whether I want to go through all of this again or not.

So, until then… ….

…. …. ….

– O.D. ©2020

Art by: StephanePellennec

 

Blog Interview w/ Dialectics

shure_55s_microphone_by_uncledave

When I found Dante’s blog Dialectics I was immediately drawn to know more. Complete strangers yet not only do we share a name; we share passion for the art. We are the type of individuals you get to understand by reading what we write; no other way really.

Took a while to get everything in order but I’m happy I got the chance to have this interview. There are many things we’ve planned down the pipeline. But before we get to all that awesomeness, let’s check out some of Dante’s answers to my questions. Perhaps we’ll all get a chance to understand the man behind the mystery.

If you’re curious about my answers to his questions you can check them out here

 

What can you tell us about yourself and your blog?

I’m Dante, I love languages. Whether they be spoken or coded – I love learning them and using them. I really enjoy reading – poetry, literature and a lot of novels (sci-fi, horror, dark fantasy and some satirical stuff)

My blog is the truest representation of me and you will learn more about me from reading through it than you would from me telling you. It seems chaotic – the way my mind is – but there is a kind of order hidden within that chaos.

 

What inspired you to start your blog?

I would not necessarily call inspiration rather necessity. I have never had someone I can talk to openly – someone who will listen. I made my blog as a means to say the things I needed to and clear my mind. My thoughts get away with me and it’s a place I put them so they don’t flood my head.

 

How would you describe your blogging style?

Unfiltered. Because my blog is first and foremost about me – what I feel like sharing will usually wind up on there.

 

What are you aware of now that you wish you knew when you started your blog?

I am not restricted to writing about a single thing. I had a blog once – my first one – that was restricted to one subject matter. That did not go as well as I had thought. This may work for other bloggers, but my mind does not function like that – I understand that now.

 

Is there a particular message or theme you wish to evoke to your readers when blogging?

This relates to the quote that resonates with me – I would hope that they learn to appreciate the little things, the small wins. Everyone seems so concerned with being huge and flashy, they overlook that sometimes all you need could be as simple as a smile, a ‘hello, how are you’. Sometimes all you need is for someone to show they care and are there if you need them

 

How much time do you spend writing?

I’m always writing. It may not leave my head or get on the blog, but my mind is a constant stream of thoughts which most of the time I have no control over.

 

I hear many people say ‘blogging is easy’. As a blogger, what are your thoughts on this?

This all depends on the individual really. For some it comes naturally, others have to work harder at it. For me, I’ve always loved books and words so writing, blogging isn’t that difficult.

 

What are you looking forward to doing in the coming months?

The digital marketing course I started. It is out of my usual area of work, so that should be interesting. I’m also hoping to see a very good friend before the year ends, have not seen them since lockdown started.

 

What quote do you most resonate with?

  For the longest time it was 《 à petits pas, j’irai très loin 》 : With little steps I will go very far, which still holds true most of the time but I go back to this one more:

 

To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour.”

 

It inspired this post Grain of Sand

 

Please check out his blog, plenty of interesting content waiting for you there. And Dante, thank you for taking the time to answer my questions, really appreciate it.

We will be back soon.