GB

5/11/10- GB

i just want to i just have to it's time to say.... fuck fuck fuck you.... and by fuck you i mean goodbye and by goodbye i mean fuck you and the things you do... i mean fuck me for letting you pretend i was what you were ready for... i mean fuck this heart and how much it loves even when it shouldn't... fuck my lonely nights that were had even when you were next to me... fuck my invisibility... and by fuck i mean goodbye... goodbye to tears shed over someone that only shed tears if they thought their reputation was at stake.... fuck you and your problems... fuck time wasted... fuck the consolation prize... fuck you in your post relationship lonely... fuck the way you treated me for years... fuck all the things i did alone... fuck the way you hurt me... fuck the way you loved me... fuck your new life and it's fucked up newness... fuck my heart for being stuck on you... fuck the break up songs that weren't worth it... fuck my too soon forgiveness for you... goodbye to our love... goodbye to the taste of you... the taste of your ass... of your cum... of your nipples... of your lips... the bad taste of your half-assed affection... goodbye to the way you ignored me when i was hurting.... goodbye to you hurting me and justifying it by blaming it on me...goodbye...goodbye and fuck off to these dreams that you invade... fuck off to the songs, the food, the movies, the places i know you'd like... fuck off to this big fucking heart and all it's nostalgia for shit that was always fleeting and unreliable... goodbye to this guy that was the wrong guy that helped make way for the next guy...i'll forgive you eventually... this world fucks up little boys but goodbye to the little boys that never grow up and fuck up other little boys just trying to be loved by someone in the world-- without condition-- without audition-- without you...goodbye goodbye good-fucking-bye already.

Branded

My reading of this poem- file:///C:/Users/AML/Documents/Downloads/Memo.m4a

Branded-4/15/10

composed of so many things... fractional...

what I've said before should mean more now...

i am made up of you now.

should be doing this.

should be making things.

torn down. built. torn down.

allowed myself hope.

and here it is.

show me things that people don't want to see.

inside the outside. inside the inside.

open it up. expose the cavity.

we live together. our death together is assured.

i'll smoke you. i'll drink you. i'll forget you're lying to me with that smile.

abuse me. you have, so why not again?

elemental. filled with fluid. water. fire. dirt. snot. piss.

emotional. blah.

if i spelled it out for you it wouldn't be ironic.

metaphor for what?

all of our metaphors?

the Messiah of metaphors?

all in our sadness-- hopeful-hopelessness.

our exhibition-- fear of not being seen.

will you catalog me as i've cataloged you?

again?

fuck you again.

our aggression left on my skin.

in me.

your clueless analysis of what is.

so i am a snob.

i like it good.

i like it thought out.

top shelf.
i like you best on your knees.

but wouldn't that make sense for me?

you know me? of course you do.

enough to fill a fucking thimble as they say.

what do we know of anyone?

will i be pretty?

not likely.

the world makes us ugly in subtle and obvious ways.

even as we go on about our prettiness, our beauty-- we've been made ugly.

as you hope and pray for me, you're made ugly.

these archaic rituals.

no judgment. i love all.

right... and it's just money

and it's just affiliation

just sex

just friendship

just nothingness.

spell another word. out of letters. out of constructive communication.

plenty of time.

plenty.

stuff.

lots of it.

i want to shake people.

stop.

look.

speak your truth.

but your truth is dumb to me.

not because it's dumb but because it's yours.

and we all fail.

our faith in ourselves always falling

short.

keep quiet

keep still

keep well

your preservation is the hard part

Incidental Inspiration, Honest Poetry and Why, Why?

In a world mostly driven by it's relationship to stuff-- "is it enough stuff? is it stuff enough?"-- I wander at times blindly hoping to be inspired... I wake up critical of my place in the world, talking to people I shouldn't talk to and wanting to make an impact (if only on myself). I returned recently from a rockin' ten day adventure in Vieques, PR and many things entered my brain.... I have an insatiable need to know why... Motivation is 9 tenths or something like that.... perhaps this is the reason why I'm pulled to the field of psychology the most. It's not enough for me to just be able to observe that something is-- why it is and how it became... therein lies the meat of it... How can we every truly communicate and understand one another without these nuts and bolts... and we must know these inner workings of ourselves before we can even begin to delve into the components of others. I challenge myself and others to reveal one thing that they've spent time thinking about in terms of self and express what you've learned to someone you trust. We spend and let the media spend time criticizing and analyzing people's levels of connectedness to one another...what are we afraid of? Connections break down, yes. People die, yes. Take the gamble-- reach out and touch someone... I leave you with a honest poem. Of my heart, of my mind:

3/17/10 (Untitled)

In my more powerful moments…

I think- you did not deserve me…

You weren’t worthy of my attention and the biography will make small reference to you…

In my more tempered moments…

I think- you were in need of me…

So we found one another and your world became bigger and I was able to discover that need

doesn’t equate love…

I learned that some people rather lie than be alone—that this happens when we put ourselves second…

-lovers have been my charity, my product to sell

-my ability to forget so much of myself to see someone smile

A joy junkie

--maybe just a junkie depending on the direction of the esteem

And that feeling persists—“I will be whole when I am loved”

Maybe we are these split beings—always trying to become one with another—but the pieces won’t fit-don’t fit-didn’t fit… they do for someone—but the pieces together were only as good as they were separate…

I am liar—a romantic with no faith in romance… the dame delusion from 17 except I don’t believe it now… perhaps I didn’t then and that’s why I’ve remained sad somewhere inside….

I want to sound cool and say I’m bored/misunderstood.

I am a poser and my truths are convenient. But aren’t everyone’s?

Escaping and trapping over and over—the analysis makes me sound like the rebel-tragic-poet I want to be? I am?

Too lazy for the pressure—I am an incidental tourist in counter-culture—bored with the status quo—willing to challenge the moral standard

Unapologetically attached to youth and its purpose—the strange way it inspires and never lets us forget—full circle and I will break hearts as mine has been before the end—now older I know what’s required to love correctly and completely and I have less of a taste for it…

My recovery from us seems vague and again something I put all the work into…

--my martyrdom bores me…

And this is why the scene must shift—I must show that I have not become complacent—no silent acceptance of predictable futures

this is the moment before next.

Poetry in 2010

limitless limitations not limited to our limiting- 01/27/10

pretty, luscious, full, pink, red, tasty, sexy

wanted, hunted, pursued, lusted after

you, me, three, four, her, them, us, we

naked, fucking, sexting, trading, swapping

buddy, friend, lover, husband, wife, mistress, slut, whore, boy, slave, master

what can we do to one another in the dark?

who are you in the light of day?

can’t it be the same?

shouldn’t it?

censor, distort, detach, marginalize, segregate, split

our Gemini culture

one as many

one as one to some and another to others

don’t you want to encompass as much as you can

trading old masks for new masks

trading one moral code for another

what do we know now?

we grow out of the gray area because we never learn to accept it

I am a fag, I am bi, I am straight, I am I am I am

oh sam

oh all the dead and injured

why aren’t you who we’d like you to be

sexy and distant

afraid of violence?

more afraid of not doing

of not seeing

of not feeling

how do we transcend these definitions

why can’t I kiss her and still fuck him?

why can’t we make love and it not involve our gender?

we all share differently…

all of these curves and contours

and I just want your mind….

your skin explains nothing

this pain in the ass accident scene- 02/26/10

we don’t feel it like we used to

maybe it’s growth

maybe the perspective changes to suit us

what if?

--the scars we have were never etched

--we didn’t love so fucked up

I love all of my fables—my peace trains—my romantic bleeding heart

the longer I live in this skin, this story—the more it encompasses

we are these connections—bursts of laughter, moments of sadness

casualty and success-- our worlds always playing out the inverse

couldn’t we just be?

-- a collection of everything

-- accept everything at once… good through bad?

we punish one another with our moralities, our ideals, our exceptions to the rules…

out from under the rug of someone else’s plan--- I’m sure I stole that line

but here I am. where are you?

this boy naked, bruised, on the table, flawed, good intentions, big heart, sound mind (most of the time), you get all of me—what would I hide?

what is my shame?

no here it is…. right the fuck here…. I’ve lied, cheated, stole, fucked without care, loved without concern, said things I didn’t mean to hurt someone, said things I did mean to hurt someone… the guts of my life can be displayed … I’ve felt loved and unloved… I’ve hated… I’ve been elated…. I am all parts and none or the other…. I’m awesome and an asshole and indifferent and empathetic and apathetic and angry and happy and humble and a snob and a lover and a slut and a whore and a fake and real and my gray area is my fucking gray area….

so this is where I live.

in pain, in bliss, in failure, in success.

Gin or Vodka Martinis, A Passive-Aggressive Feminist Rant and Critical Thinking for The Everyday

Sipping some special tea, listening to the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens, I am reminded of what a crazy month February always promises to be and how it delivers on that promise consistently. In a month where I turned 32, lost a $100, did some other stuff =) and paid for two very exciting trips I have been challenged with all sorts of heavy thoughts for my aging brain.

Thought Number One:

Very few human beings know how to use critical thinking to problem solve in their lives. One may be able to solve a math equation or reason out an exam question but when it comes down to figuring out what to do about Billy treating you like shit it becomes an unsolvable word problem. Why can't we examine ourselves as critically as we need to? What are we afraid of? One guess is that we are afraid that the answer won't match our ideal outcome. Wouldn't it be great if the solution wasn't to tell Billy he needs to fuck off and die? Sadly all too often the answers that are best for us are too obvious to arrive at. My recommendation is that everyone spend some time being dirt poor, with limited resources and if you survive without needing a bailout from anyone, take that knowledge and apply it accordingly. We survive or die. Or we get by and suffer. Or we numb ourselves to the situation at hand. Boring and unnecessary choices. Consider your options... Can I pay the electric late in order to eat? Can I by three bottles of cheap wine, instead of 1 bottle of good wine for the same price? Rational thought does not need to play second fiddle to emotion. We can be both emotional and rational.... the balance is the theme yet again. Something devastating happens-- go ahead and cry, but also ask yourself-- what's next? What do I do now?

Thought Number Two:

Breakfast at Tiffany's it was not, but considering previous interactions it was tame and fine. Just fine, just okay and certainly not something I look forward to or anything... perhaps you have guessed it-- another ex outing... breakfast on his birthday... I'm civilized and shit. However something did come up that comes up with a lot of people.... this is again a complaint about black or white thinking/ blanket statements and generalizations... I understand people are very convicted in their likes and dislikes but because of this it should be even more relevant and important to not speak as if your likes and dislikes are the only way to go. "Gin Martinis are way better than Vodka Martinis!" My delicious response, "Only if you like Gin." Ugh of course there is more, "No, Gin Martinis are better." Final response, "If one hates Gin, they are never going to agree that Gin Martinis are better." "Oh." I encourage people to keep this in mind whenever they try to tell me something they like is better than what everyone else likes. I feel that this kind of thinking and exclamations of superiority are rooted in one's need to feel special... You are special, but your taste is not, none of our tastes are special to anyone else other than ourselves and those that also like what we like and trust me that's okay.

Thought Number Three:

I don't really have the time to have this conversation with the person(s) I would like to-- over tea, a joint and bareback porn-- so here is my passive aggressive feminist rant to my close friends in relationships with a woman-----> There is a fine line between chivalry and chauvinism... As a feminist I get slightly irritated by the attitude that you need to protect and defend your girlfriends... we are in the 21st century-- these women work multiple jobs, have children and handle their own shit. I know one may think it's sweet to be the rescuer and I have a lecture for the ladies that let this happen all the time.... this dynamic is called co-dependence. If we are truly in an era where we want to erase the gender gap and let people know the devision between women and men is a social construct-- we need to practice what we preach... Hold the door, but make sure you hold it for dudes as well. Be the mack daddy and protector, but don't just do it for your mom and girlfriend or the other women in your life, do it for everyone. So ladies, there are an infinite number of ways your significant man can show he cares about you without making you play the role of princess in the tower (who incidentally could have cut her own damn hair off, tied it to the bedpost and climbed down on her own.) Don't by into the fact that you are more or less of a lady by how passive or submissive you are, if that were the case half of my boyfriends were actually girls. I really want all my sensitive straight guy friends to ponder this, and don't give me that bullshit that it's your natural instinct to take care of your girl-- you all know that's crap fed to us by a patriarchal society and media-- it's constructed so we all follow our little roles and middle America doesn't have to feel too uncomfortable by the Gray Area.

10-year financial plan, new ears?, blogdom

Cafe eavesdropping has always been a favorite pastime of mine and today is no exception.... An hour long discussion went on next to me about an individual's journey to--- wait for it-- enlightenment?- no. Sexual freedom?- no. Europe?- no. The answer, as bland as it is-- developing a ten year financial plan, not to exclude paying down debt, school loans and saving for retirement, while taking into consideration today's troubled market. Oh well, at least the tea was good.


So 2010 is here and this is going to be an exceptional year, no matter how you dice it. I have a very ambitious life plan and it does not include any of the following: Boys that suck (in a non-productive way), Bad music, Reality TV (unless I'm on it), Herpes, Self-loathing, Poor communication and Staying in Worcester past August 1st.

Felicia and I have endeavored on a new blog to chronicle our adventures and eventual relocation to Brooklyn (basically we talk about sex). Since we are experts on all things absurd and inappropriate I encourage you to visit our blog and become a follower (the link is included in this blog). Brooklyn Bound Debauchery has several "mission (emission) statements," but one I would like to personally endorse is the need to spread a "sex-positive" vibe that brings us out of our puritanical routes and allows us to all live more comfortably in the "gray area" of sexuality, gender, sex and individuality.

Peace, Love and a hard one- Aaron

PS. I will most likely do most of my personal ranting on POWER-TOP Tuesdays on our BrooklynBoundDebauchery blogspot-- so tune in there =)

11/9/09 (from the poetry realm)

sometimes just

dropped

we are nothing until

we make something of it

idle

here

there

the mind sequencing me

begging something new

need more…

experience

art

art

art

bring me words

bring me answer

bring me lips

ah

the romantic in this

we’re watching one another

I’ve cast my net wide

because someone has a better approach

they have to

absorb me

take me to your leader

lead me off into

the dark/light

everything the inverse when taken from another view

close the curtains

we’re not dead

yet

inside

of this body

mindless

spirit well-wishing

a fog of… nothing worse than—apathy

there is no real justice

in the garden

sometimes stoned

into a suggestion for something more

significant

news worthy

trust filled

politics in graffiti

politics in

consumption

and we’re all afraid of…

the vulnerable

exposed state

the essence of us evidence of—our unguarded

heel

my assault on you abandoned

for love

for prospect of

for me

something better than

more in tune with

more respectful of

me

the way i

roll

the energy I generate

my ability to pontificate

I can explain my scars

explain yours

we haven’t pulled the wishbone

but you’re next

you have to be

someone needs to

appreciate

that there has been no

depreciation

no loss of

no structuring of

no conforming nonsense

sometimes lonely

for what’s next

the 3am conversation

again and again and again

but this time it never ends

and our lust is contained and

evolving

and edifying

what we don’t let go of

shackles

ensnares

draws in

beware of our

limitations to see light

our interest in

pain

the search for a source

the snuffing of our flame

the easy chill of aging and

falling into line

I have no Mini Van dream

no supermarket hey I know you

bonding ritual

breath in new

breath out you

the cut of criticism

making us stoic

lost

immovable

frozen image no self

no esteem

no passion

sometimes deliberate

debilitation leaves you wiser

sometimes it just leaves you in a fucking ditch

looking for providence?

look no further

no really

just stop looking

whisper something witty as you run your tongue

across

lost in our own void

any void to sort

self

sort desire

sort ambition

sort of….

how can I close you?

you are a wedge

but I could set fire to the whole thing

what of ash?

sometimes we just say fuck it I’m done

with it. you. religion. science. purpose. dinner. this. us. future.

but then love. then music. then beauty-earth-color. then community.

then peace.

sometimes I learn.