Ironed Out.

27 Nov

I keep wondering what time it is
Thinking night is around the corner
The sky has clouded up and
Hidden the sun away.

There’s something about too many
Cloudy days that feels eerily
Like being around too many people,
Suffocating and overarching.

Maybe that’s not the case for
Extroverts, who are said to be
Able to socialize without preparing
For 3 days beforehand.

I have cartography in my blood
Since I map out most things,
Although seldom do my documents
Provide accuracy in the present.

The years that have been before
Left scars on my lenses and
Distortion was inherent, leaving
Me to question my sight.

I still need days to call in sick to
The ritual of being a thoughtful guest
And shopper because I can’t stay
Folded up into a dollar bill forever.

I have made a place where I can
Undo all the creases left behind by
The scars and folds, however,
My maps aren’t worth shit.

I’m Not Buying It.

26 Nov

The wind is blowing hard
It gives the illusion of being cold
Yet it is warm, but still,
Getting dust in my eyes is a deterrent.

I have refrained from dipping
Into my checking account
On this holiest of shopping days
So that I may be blasphemous.

I will not stand in honor of
Unnecessary goods to fill the void
Nor will I bow to unbelievable
Savings and incentive values

I seem to be failing as a
Consumer since the newest toys
Leave me vacant, further saddened
By the futility of acquisition.

Twinkling lights and shiny new
Credit cards are loosed to display
Commitment to the cause of a
Shared mania infused with greed.

It’s a bit abstract, don’t you think,
This ritual of shiny objects going back
And forth because a baby was born
In a barn, before barns existed?

I’m not sure how the tree fits in
To this either, or how it really went
Down between the Pilgrims and
The Indians a month earlier.

Asking questions like these can
Cause some confusion because the next
Thing you know, you’re asking why
Some feast while others starve.

Maybe one day it will make sense to me
Not because I find merit in the way it
Works, but because it will no
Longer work that way.

Monsoon Season.

22 Nov

The skies keep pouring their hearts out
Daily but that is winter here
The sun playing hide and seek and
A cool evening after intermittent showers.

Strange how a week or ten days
Of cloud cover with sporadic swells
Makes it easy to wake up distressed or
Maybe the better word would be teetering,

Back and forth on a precipice
Hoping that the sun will emerge
Or that the second cup of coffee will
Turn up the corners of my mouth.

I stare at the sea riveted by the
Undulations of the white caps while
The clouds again congregate making
Up their minds to form anvils.

So it is left to me to determine
If I see teapots and bunny ears in
The masses floating above my head
Or wielders of wet gloom.

14 Nov


Reblog from asconeatatime…love to all.

Originally posted on a_scone_atatime:

i hurt with the world


and nothing makes sense

i hope that you feel the love

of the world with you

as you go

wherever you are gone to


View original


We Are All One.

14 Nov


Human, Thou Art Loosed

6 Nov

Here’s to the men
Who have ogled my ass
And focused on my mouth
Instead of my words:

To the mastubatory fantasies
In which I played a role
And received no
Accolades or affection,

Those near enough to smell
My perfume and hair and
Later retire to their sheets
With lotion and tissues,

This sentiment is for you–
Because I am unsure if
I could contain myself
In your presence.

Clarity could escape me
And this needs to crystal,
That’s why I put it to paper
Making it a study guide.

I don’t want to be viewed
As a WOMAN, until first
I am seen as a human,
Because they don’t seem the same.

Somehow I have inherited this great
Responsibility, and on the basis
Of my gender and appearance
Expected to play out a role.

I shall be virgin and whore,
I shall be obedient and unruly,
The center of the galaxy
Whilst bowing to to him.

Prone to emotional fits, indecision,
Shallowness of thought and irrationality
I cry and bleed and carry children
I clean and cook and fuck.

It all fits neatly into
A cosmetic bag,
These instructions on
How to behave like a lady.

I can’t fold myself up into
a fucking piece of origami
To be stuffed in a sack
And retrieved for convenience.

The guidelines that seem
The likelier to grasp are those
That are simpliest to say
So hear it goes fellas…

For the sake of of us all
Just treat me like a man.
Keep it easy and don’t think
That I am anything else.

I exist even when you are not
Looking and you don’t get my
Hands or thighs, so for the safety
Of you, I am a man.

There’s no need to worry
If you may cause offense
I’ve heard quite a bit already,
And really, it would be a relief.

If you consider me in drag
When you see my lips painted
We will all be better off because
My vagina is not open to you.

That’s what it comes down to
And I have no orifice open
Nor a mind or an ear
For your seeds of power.

Retract, refract, and redo
See me differently furthermore
If you view me as a man
I’m halfway to huMAN.

That seems more plausible,
Feasible, and safe than
Explaining how woman is
Equal and not the same.

Let’s just keep it small
Because small steps start all
Journeys, and since we are in
This together, we may as well try.

Fall is short for Falling.

31 Oct

The northern hemisphere is experiencing the first signs of autumn while I look at palm trees. To some, that could sound like I am missing out, but I am grateful to be able to look at palm trees instead of the array of colorful leaves. I have seen beautiful and awe inspiring forests blanketed in crimson and gold, hilltops covered in splashes of warm oranges and reds, and walked through labyrinths in which I was surrounded with the colors of fall. I am fortunate to have had those experiences. Now I get to be with palm trees, and I am so glad.
The forest was a place of sanctuary for me as a child. In so many ways, I felt safer there than anywhere. When the leaves began to change, I would feel this pang of anxiety because I knew my sanctuary was only available for a little while longer before the brutal Wisconsin winter came, which inevitably kept me confined to the indoors. Maybe the lesson here is that beauty truly lies in the eyes of the beholder.
There seems to be this redundant trend that comes in autumn every year regarding appearances. It is that suddenly it is acceptable to wear dark lipstick and darker colors of clothing. I find it annoying because people don’t need parameters on what colors to wear on their faces, and every year the same bullshit is being pedaled. As if I have no memory I am going to be swept away by this new idea of dark red lipstick in October? Come on, marketing people, just STOP. I will wear red lipstick any time of the year I please, or grey lipstick, or no lipstick. It is just insulting to be the object of a marketing campaign.

There is no such place

You've been here before

Poetry by AJ O'Brien.

AJ O'Brien's poems. Dark poetry. Free verse. Haiku. Tanka. Flash fiction.


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