27 Daze (poem, anecdote)

A fight with a Scott
is like wrestling a wolverine.
Through wilting, through rot,
we'll endure the punishing.

Whose the winner?
Whose the victor?
Aren't they allied?
Forced together?

The eyes of Kurtain
enclosing and true
saw faith in phantoms
where honesty flew.

Which witch is which?
They casting blessings?
An in-patient itch...
How many dressings?

I got knocked the FUCK down.
Then drugged the FUCK out.
And felt like a clown.
In my honesty pout.

Cackler and laughter.
Is this relaxation?
Get mad then get madder.
And watch the damnation.

Going outside is a privilege,
then again so is a shelter.
And if limbo's a bridge,
our jungle's just swelter!

Will you face your biggest fear?
And be engulfed by darkness?
Willingly listen to what you hear?
Tread the light you harness?

You may be perfectly happy,
your life quaint, content, alright.
But your honesty appears sappy.
When some 'healers' hear your plight.

This was the hardest thing I've ever done.
Yet it was only 27 days.
And even though my battle's won.
I now know the other ways.

Intuition was once my denial.
Honesty a throughput of conceptions.
Gestationed hatchlings little while.
I believe in my inceptions.

Mac and Cheeseburgers (poem, anecdote)

Sometimes when you eat food,
a longtime craving passes.
And without coming off too lewd,
a sexual wave elapses.

The thrill of best cuisine,
has a loving story,
and would be rather boring,
if the meaty parts weren't gory.

Salt and pepper in ground meat,
after a relaxing peachy day,
night-time garlic, summer's heat.
Surrendered stories given away.

We froze the miniature sliders,
saving potential for something greater.
We're not just witnesses, we're riders,
we're the cooks we also wait for.

Being frozen is to know no time,
nothing grows when locked in stasis,
but sometimes you have to stop the slime
from self-destruction and bacterial traces.

The cheese concoction was a mystery.
Another source, another story, how?
What might have been the gooey history?
Maybe it came from the same cow?

Chefs brought together a grand design:
eggs, flour, battered, balled, fried.
We would experience and might call divine
something no individual would have tried...

...But a group of efforts made it
and I got to play it, face it, and even taste it!

Overcome Failure (poem)

Hold back harm, as we link arms, feed me light, and stay in sight. We're in danger, I'll make mistakes, don't push anger, and we won't break. Curves and curls, loops and rails: dusty paths and hidden trails. Keep me aloft, climb new heights. Stay warm and soft to comfort frights. Moving forward, I’ll have to roam, but with you on board, I’m not alone. I might slip, and even trip, skin might rip, blood drip drip drip. But as long as I have you to call, then I know you’re there to catch my fall. Soon we’ll have a perfect lullaby, with clear chords just ringing by. We’ll feel the marriage of a robot and a harp, eclipsing blindness, hear past the dark.