dwayne.yawned

“No Song For You Tonight”  by dwayneyawned  There’s no song  for you tonight  You’ve been a bad  sloppy boi  Leaving trails of misinformation  bubbling and boiling  There’s no song  for you tonight  You’ve been a bad  husband lover son  Making your hearts go  on a wild goose chase  it’s not very fun  Wherever will the visa take me?  Whenever will my visa come?  Whenever, wherever  We’re meant to be together  Just seems like it might  be a year later and then some  There’s no song  for you tonight  The only ones singing are the sad lost lonely souls  Crooning a tune  of forlorn wistfulness  of technology (hey) and bureaucracy  gone cruel and cold.. #poem #immigration #separation

El Pajarito de Abuela by nicholaiv He awoke to the quickly fading umbre of a sad dream. His eyesockets had filled with tears and had become little saltwater pools and his vision swam and the sparsely lit darkness that awaited him was like he'd fallen into another dream. But a sharp sensation, unlike the sensuality woven by the numbed senses of a dreaming mind, pricked at his chest, and he bent his chin forward, which emptied the small pools of tears down his puffy cheeks, and blinked the world into focus.  There in the bony valley formed over the solar plexus, warming itself with the mounds of his breast, sat a little pale Parakeet.   Recognition was gradual, as is common of the waking moments after a gentle dream, and in the halo of melancholy and hallucination, a supernatural tenderness gripped his heart; he recognized in the bird's expressive eyes, softly lidded, the same look his Abuelita used to give him; he had memories of when she'd hold his cheeks in her warm fleshy

Conspicuously Absent by dwayneyawned My tigger, my hobbes,  my sweet radish,  my purple rain,  my glorious chu,  my infernal beating heart,  my parallel reflection  my perpendicular  the soft pulsing glow  of your kindly fullsome embrace  my dinky pinky  my velvety snow  my coat when the world is cold  my snugglebun when the road  is a rough, dark, inky tuft  my diarrhea eyes  my softness disguised  in your gaze  I languish  in your chase  I flourish  only to lose myself  in the silent present  that has you  conspicuously absent. #poem #love #longing  

Currently reading the book  The Future You   by Brian David Johnson He poses several questions that are great in imagining (or reimagining) a future we would like to get to:  1) Do you want to be rich?  Yessir.  2) What sort of rich do you want to be?  I want to be rich in love, in life, in wisdom and in purpose. I want to be rich enough to be able to do what I love (spreading awareness, consciousness and elevating the human state, fighting for just causes of humanism and sustainability) without worrying about money; I see myself as a champion of diversity and inclusion, a Life Coach and an Activist. I want to be rich in a way that can be shared.  3) What brings you pleasure? What brings you purpose? Pleasure: Bakkwa, Poker, Inebriates, Massages  Purpose: Chosen family, fighting the good fight, peace, stability, calm, expanding consciousness, free loving and free living, knowing thyself.   4) What are you good at today that your future self DOES NOT want to continue doing?  Corporate t

Cold & Undying by nicholaiv The cemetery was vast - the last great cemetery - a frozen sea of green and gray that framed the horizon in every direction.  A bot stood in the short midafternoon shadow of a stunted cherry tree watching a quiet funerary ceremony in silence. It had a large bouquet of frost-white carnations cradled in its arms that it had been slowly scattering among the headstones just before its attention was caught by the procession, which it followed from a respectful distance and, as the long line of mourners coalesced around the open grave like the running of a faucet, it took to its current vantage point. It was a windy spring day, bright and pensive; voices were carried to the sharp ears of the bot only when the whipping of the wind permitted.  "... allowed him to be... very gracious," came a voice from a group of 3 old hens, one of which held a black bible tightly to her bosom, and they all glanced over their shoulders toward a single point. Their lips

Saw a video where they quizzed some Harvard undergraduates (aka Gen Zs) on some general knowledge questions to win money.  One of the questions was what “www” stands for.  I was so surprised by how many of them were confused!  It means WHAT a WONDERFUL WORLD!  That I am sure.  Now gimme ma money.  #musing

Before the Show by nicholaiv “ Where'd you find...her?" Mona bent over and gave the object of her curiousity a closer examination.  "The poor little thing was sitting in the alley behind," said Vera, motioning to the square window that overlooked a thin, sparsely drunken alley behind the tiny second floor nightclub they were at. "Just by the backdoor. She had this look. I just couldn't lah." And she pressed her long-nailed hand to her false breasts and shook her head. She was the perfect image of a concerned lady.  The changing room, which was really just a converted broom closet, was packed with a half-dozen half-dressed queens and enough wigs, dresses, heels, corsets, palletes, lace, feathers and accoutrements to turn an entire city block into a fashionable whorehouse.  "Does she talk?" said Gina, suffering, trying to glue her enormous peacock-feather eyelashes over her thinning natural ones, and hadn't once glanced in their direction. 

How I Got Rid of My Prickly   by dwayneyawned   These terrible spines of mine,  they poke, they prick, they protrude,  they get caught up in other people’s  face, they get stuck in their carapace.  It hurts me when my spines  snap and bend, when they get  pricklier as I defend and slowly I shed all that I depend  on.  It hurts my friends as I stab  and spew, sit and stew  simmering and muttering in my soup of self-righteousness.  And then one day  I got so tired.  I wondered why I was always so wired.  I closed my eyes,  I calmed my mind  I lessened the load I never knew  I was bearing.  And in my slow-beating heart  did I find  A prickly something  like a needle-like thing  Someone else’s spike  from their careless fling.  Bygone, forgotten,  tiny yet wearisome  I never realized it made me  so fearsome.  I never realized a heart irritated  made me so agitated.  I plucked and pulled  and my prickly came out!  And all the pricklies on me  let out their dying shout.  Never again, I swore

Stoics believe  that the state of one’s  health,  wealth,  status  are not linked  to one’s happiness.  Eudaemonia  To achieve happiness and bliss regardless of the circumstances life has thrown one’s way.  Happiness is about  Virtue  Courage Goodness  Temperance  and  Living in harmony with the  Natural Way.  #stoicism #staystrong #philosophy