(last month's twitter renga at @rojonekku
ended up pretty amazing)
flipped, but nothing much has changed...
same desk, same dead end
the chance for fresh perspective
often lost in these too-deep ruts
"hope springs eternal
in the human breast" was not
writ in cold weather
winter is time of darkness -
ascetic nihilism
last night in full moon,
the kettlebell handle was
ten degrees at best
still I swung it, stubbornly
wearing black basketball shorts
viking berserker
blood exists somewhere within
my genetic muck
raven mack dirtgod thought and
memory winter workout
hung from Yggdrasil,
bloody Odin received runes,
"word to word to word"
same: I prefer heavily
fortified mead of poetry
all mythologies
have similar tales of how
poetry was born
heart-innate mythologies
truer than brain's mad science
heart thinks like elder
beech - silently seeing all,
knowing what makes sense
brain thinks like fence - attempting
to separate existence
borders should be crossed,
identities dismantled,
all colonies burned
archive this poison culture
in ash; let's begin again
post-colonial
theory five hundred level
class, taught by beech tree
getting my masters in no
gods, no masters (just dirtgod)
perpetrate dirtgod
meditations to deny
natural born trash
to the upright world, still trash -
lackluster human resource
too fuckin' cold to
care; too fuckin' old to try;
heart paralysis
cuddled under shitty quilts...
this world is too fuckin' much
counting off the days
until springtime, when I'll bloom
like fuckin' redbuds
I have faith in the purple
protocols of warm rebirth
Allah bumps mad Screw -
just look at redbud blossoms
and echinacea
la ilaha illallah
la ilaha illallah
worthlessness feelings
fought off with simple dhikr's
internal jihad
la ilaha illallah
la ilaha illallah
people got it all
figured out, in ways which feel
alien to me
is your happiness for real?
please friend, hydrocodone me
opioids and gods -
it's self-medication or
self-revelation
papaver somniferum's
smoky embrace perhaps both
opium access
limited but opioids
in great abundance
manufactured blooms of free
market capitalism
tired of pretending
progress still possible while
madness reigns supreme
fuck y'all fake motherfuckers
la ilaha illallah
the myth of progress -
simple-brained humanity's
Sisyphean stone
stubborn homo sapiens
still believing they own hype
knowing with the brain
is over-complicated process
of smashing apart
knowing with the heart easy
as fuck - sit there, check your self
humans ain't shit but
hoes & tricks... suck on these nuts
& lick on this dick
lol, not really y'all...
I'm selective with my dick
penis has no heart
nor brains - direct connect to
gut intuition
vagina I can't speak for
(wish more dudes would think like that)
Not All Men will help
you deconstruct and destroy
then rebuild from scraps
even those that appear to
be allies might be man-wolves
majority of
modern people - woman or
man - is fake as fuck
constant public relations
device in hand doesn't help
always tell myself
"fuck y'all fake motherfuckers"
when walking through world
double middle fingers to
the mirror to keep self hyped
dusty ass bathroom
mirrors reflecting too damn
much sadness lately
can't wait for spring to unlock
redbud blossom raven mack
"hope is as hollow
as fear" said the poet,
quoting Tao Te Ching
thoughts of bamboo stalks growing
along both sides of a fence
moments not minutes
meditations as I sit
through morning meetings
my paycheck work is not my
real work - I am an artist
a Natural Born
Artist, regardless of lot
in life work assigned
a Natural Born Artist,
all eight directions, all day
a Natural Born
Artist can't be quantified,
needs not a co-sign
Natural Born Artists have
illegitimate nature
"what exactly is
your art?" a non-believing
gatekeeper might ask
"ev'rything motherfucker"
all eight directions, all day
save your poetry
for secretive submissions;
I blast mine like howls
assimilation is for
those who believe in system
last night, Saul Williams
said "fuck the beliefs" as they
are our minds' police
the internal jihad of
shooting cops inside your brain
Raven Mack Dirtgod
internal jihad - remain
at odds with gridlock
a Natural Born Artist
sowing fractal geospheres
shout out and love to
all Natural Born Artists
sowing y'all's wild seeds
fuck orders fuck submissions
fuck the beliefs which choke y'all
artists natural
born tend to feel like artists
natural forlorn
the legitimate world spins
upon a crooked axis
the mantra remains
FUCK Y'ALL FAKE MOTHERFUCKERS
'til covered with dirt
the fake own the so-called "real
world" in its small entirety
one day your power
grid will fail; the fog depends
on batteries' buzz
once the fog clears, we'll shine our
guillotines with devil blood
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