Saturday, February 10, 2018

Things That I Know About Donald Trump That He Does Not Know About Himself


Donald Trump has never had to agonize over whether to pay the electric bill or buy groceries for his kids.

Donald Trump has never walked up to a locked door that mentioning his daddy’s name hasn’t been able to unlock.

Donald Trump has never had to work. He has also never appreciated the joy that work can bring to a person, because it’s never been something he has had to do.

Donald Trump doesn’t know what love or loyalty mean, because he has always viewed such things as contractual.

Donald Trump doesn’t know what it feels like to break in a pair of steel toed work boots. He’s not familiar with the experience of sliding a pair of new work boots on in the face of a ten to twelve hour work shift of non stop walking and lifting, in spite of calluses and open wounds on your feet.

Donald Trump doesn’t know what it’s like to skip breakfast because there is only enough food in the house for the kids, even though he’s off to do hard labor in the aforementioned work boots for 12 hours, and there is no time for a lunch break.

If Donald Trump has ever been in a fist fight, it was with another inheritance baby, with the full knowledge that some kind of administrator would stop the thing before dental bills needed to be considered. He has never fought a real person, the kind of person who knows how to fight, because they know what struggle and survival means.

I don’t know where he gets the idea that he deserves the streetwise cowboy persona he attempts to inhabit, because he has never faced any of the dilemmas such a persona is bound to encounter.

This is not a tough, wise, smart, or compassionate man. This is a sad and stunted man who needs only one thing, and it’s the only thing his money could never buy him: the love and acceptance of his (dead) father, and any semblance of inner peace. What a sad and grotesque character.

His hands are small, but I also bet they are soft as fuck.

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Keep Death Close to your Fingertips

Keep death close to your fingertips
Let it remind you of the light still inside
Keep death close to your fingertips
Let it focus your eyes on the light in which
you reside
Don't be afraid of the impending void
Because emptiness has nothing to hide

Make a friend of death
Hold his hand when you walk through the world
Make a friend of death
He has secrets others don't know and are afraid
to find
Let the limitations of time lay naked beside you
And bathe in the river of this brief life

John Berryman told us to 'travel in the direction
of our fear'
We are not guaranteed a day, a week, a month,
a moment, or a year
Inhabit fully this life and transcend it too
And tell the truth with every tear

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Safe Spaces

My instinct tells me that people who are offended by the concept of the safe space (provided they know the actual meaning of the term and not just the grotesque caricature derided by talk radio), are possibly the people most in need of a safe space. Their outrage and mockery of the idea that a person in crisis might need a 'space' to go to and be surrounded by caring, supportive, non-judgmental people, suggests a history of pain that needs to be confronted. I can imagine them scoffing at the safe space concept internally by saying, 'who was there for me when I needed help?', and, 'what is so great about these people that they have these resources that I lacked?' One of the most important things I have learned as a social worker is to look past the noise a person makes and seek out the issue. Every lion that roars has some kind of thorn in their paw. Ignore the roar. Find the thorn.

Monday, November 27, 2017

On Warfare

I am incredibly far from the wisest person in the world. I can be proud. I can be stubborn. I am fully capable of accessing every sin and folly imaginable, because I am human, and some traits are just inside of us to one degree or another. So, I'm no Sage, but I have received a few hard won lessons. Here's one of them: if you find yourself in a conflict or argument, the worst thing you can do is try to win. That may seem counterintuitive (I know it did to me for the longest time), but it's the truth. Don't try to win. Try to be correct. Humble yourself enough to allow your mind to consider an alternative opinion or criticism of your person or belief or stance--however aggressively presented--and make yourself yourself GRATEFUL if an adversary proves your point or orientation wrong. To be moved off of an incorrect path by friend, foe, or whatever--however indelicate the correction may be--is a great gift. You don't ever need to win an argument. You need to exit the other side of an argument with the correct information, so you can make whatever adjustments need to be made. If you lie in an argument, you will lose. If you misrepresent your opponent in an argument, you will lose. If you bluster and threaten and thump your chest in an argument, you will lose. Bluster, lying, bravado, clever word games...these are admissions of weakness, and they will be your downfall. If you're fighting with someone, you're fighting for something. But even if you vanquish your foe with your lies, straw man arguments, and bravado, if you are standing on a foundation of sand, you will sink. Conflict requires openness. It requires humility. Even if you rally the whole world around your campaign against one individual or idea, you will know in your heart that you are wrong. And what is wrong will be righted. What is done in the dark will be brought to the light. If you want to win, first you need to be humble. You need to be honest. And even if you find yourself won over by an opposing argument or adversary--even if you lose--you still have won.

Sunday, October 8, 2017


Your eyes are wild
What contraption
Beats your heart?
I imagine steam
And Pistons
And cranking gears.

You know,
Everything is made.
Even wild things
Like you.
There is always
An inventor
In some mad laboratory
Even if that inventor is

Saturday, October 7, 2017

It Has Been Beautiful

There is a pain in my body
That feels like a demon
Trying to escape
There is a pain in my body
That feels like a demon
Trying to escape
Why do I hold tight to this pain?
Why do I cradle it like an infant?

I see God in the garden
Opening like a flower
I see God open his petals
In the garden like a flower
Look at the rain drops on his stem
What is it that is feeding him?

And it has been beautiful
But I must let this demon go
I have learned from my scars
But I must let this demon go
It is not fair to him to keep him
Now that he is fully grown

And it has been beautiful
But I must join God in the garden
I must open towards the same sun
As God in the garden
Oh let the rain come down
And water all of the flowers
In the garden.

Monday, September 4, 2017

Other Ways to Say I Love You

Me (eyes full of passion): I love you.

Her (eyes full of passion, voice sultry): I have a suspicion that, it may be possible--with an undetermined statistical probability--that somewhere in the general vicinity of where we currently are standing--give or take a vicinity--that there may be one, or possibly several people, who are feeling an emotion or emotions either precisely, or relatively similar, to the emotions and/or emotion that the words you employed just now are typically used to describe. I mean, I'm not not saying that this hypothetical person or people just proposed doesn't feel the same way that you have suggested you feel, and I'm not not saying that they don't not maybe potentially feel those feeling about you, but it's possible I'm saying other things which may or may not refer to different issues or causes, or also be in response to different emotional experiences. Do you know what I mean?

Me: ah, baby. That's so sweet.

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

I Light a Fire

I light a fire for you,
Not with a stick
Or a rock,
But with my soul
Which suddenly exists
Because you touched it
However randomly
With your own
Internal flame.
Light me up.
I am here.
Ready to burn.
Ready to illuminate.