lonermutt

[lonermutt]

“I don’t understand art and poetry”

But you understand emotion.

That is all it is.

The purpose of art is to evoke emotion.

To understand any art,

is to merely understand,

how it makes you feel.

The textures and colours.

The shadows and light.

The worlds conjured by ideas.

You can’t tell me you don’t understand.

You do.

I’ve seen it .

Poetry is the line in a song,

that makes you want to scream the words,

from the top of your lungs.

Art is the hazy memory,

of soft shapes and warm colours,

of a room from your childhood.

The best art is a reflection.

A pouring of the soul

over the canvas.

The artist screams.

Do you see me?

Do you see yourself too?

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

“This is not a victory for either side!”

On the steps they pop champagne.

“We promise that you can still decide!”

But if you do, there’s a price to pay.

I pity those with triumphant smiles

who celebrate today.

Those who were force fed lies

about the dangers that they face.

Those tricked into thinking

they want to protect.

When they have never shown

an ounce of respect.

Anyone deemed lesser, having a choice.

That is their biggest threat.

So when they’re done with us,

who do you think will be next?

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

“I’d be trans if I was skinnier.”

The little boy inside that little girl

was so scared.

The little boy inside this grown man

still is.

Not just for himself

but for the children of today.

Who have so many boxes to tick

to cram themselves into.

Somewhere along the path to liberation

we began creating our own chains.

These words that can free us

can just as easily cage us.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

Born and raised

like a lamb for the slaughter.

Groomed from the womb

to be a loyal martyr.

These young boys

and their blind allegiance.

Ignorant of the world

with their fathers’ vehemence.

Once in the uniform

they assume the role.

Simple emulation

with no morality of their own.

Do they know?

I wonder often.

The tragedy

of their misfortune.

That the men who demand

their last breath.

Created the need

for their death.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

I think my soul is a black hole.

Everything I love.

Everyone I love.

Anyone I get close to.

They get sucked into oblivion, into nothing.

The more I crave.

The more I need.

The more I desire.

The more I take, I consume.

Until there is nothing left.

You would think they become part of me.

They do.

But only as a weight.

They are the ever growing mass

of the cavity in my chest.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

I may live my life needing everything to be neat and orderly,

but the mess of our tangled limbs when I wake up every morning,

brings me the greatest peace I have ever known.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

I Miss You

At first I missed you everywhere.

I was still looking for you

and so I found you.

In my boots by the door

or my bag by the stairs.

Then I missed you were you were.

Places marked by your presence

now reminders of your absence.

The sun bleached mat in the kitchen

with two dark circles for one bowl.

I still miss you.

In the space of my day

that were made for you to fill.

Turning to ask the empty air a question

or stepping around your spot on the floor.

I will always leave space for you.

I will always look for you.

I will always miss you.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

A Hypocritical God

If it were Adam

who had bitten the apple.

He who sought knowledge

like moth to the candle.

He would be praised

for his determination.

Absolved of sin

in the name of greatness.

Yet Eve was accused

of defying her maker.

When acting on desires

that were instilled within her.

She born

of Adam’s rib.

Who wanted more

than he did.

She created

to be controlled.

Who sought more

than she was told.

Some would say

it was the fault of the snake.

That coiled devil

lying in wait.

But was he not too

a conduit of will?

If the same hand forged

does it matter if he fell?

Was he not obliged

by that kindred desire?

To show Eve

the fuel for her fire.

They born

of omnipotence.

Who wanted more

than blind allegiance.

They created

only to bow.

Who sought more

than faith allowed.

Here lies the conflict

in our image of the divine.

He who creates punishment

as well as the crime.

Would a fair god

ever leave a hole?

Deep within

a person’s soul.

Unless he wanted

them to feel the elation.

Of having a hand

in the act of creation.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

I didn’t want them to be angry

and they weren’t.

But now i’m angry

and I wish they had been.

Because,

If you ‘saw it coming.’

If you ‘figured it out.’

If you ‘already knew.’

Why did you let me suffer in silence?

Why did you make it seem like it was wrong?

Why did you let me believe I wasn’t safe?

If you congratulate me.

If you’re happy for me.

If you support me ‘no matter what.’

Are you lying?

Or

Am I an exception?

I’ve heard what you think about the others.

The them to your us.

So what am I now?

Them

Or

Us?

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

Split Personality

I’ve been sat on the fence for so long.

I’ve forgotten what it feels like

to have both feet

firmly planted on the ground.

It’s beginning to split me down the middle.

The two sides evolving individually

in different directions

causing a separation of self.

The fibres tear.

The seams split.

My insides spill

out.

Should these wounds be cauterised?

To sever the illusion of wholeness.

Accept that the two

cannot coexist as one.

Or can the halves be made whole?

Is it as easy as velcro?

Does it require glue or stitches?

Will it hurt?

Probably.

But it would be nice to be whole again.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

A Father’s Child

He was crying

and I wasn’t.

He was hugging me

and I wasn’t hugging him back.

He kissed me on the cheek

and I just wanted him to stop.

He was making me feel like a little girl again

and I wanted him to stop.

Then he said

I have a son.

I.

Have.

A.

Son.

All I had ever wanted to hear

and I

did

nothing.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

I am most aware of my loneliness

when surrounded by strangers.

There is nothing quite like

the crushing weight

of being alone

in a room

full of people.

The symphony

of a thousand voices

form a cocoon of sound

to separate you

from them.

The darting eyes of prey

surrounded

by predators

who do not know

he is not one of them.

Bodies brush

against your own.

The illusion

shatters.

You do not have to be alone.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

Beauty is violent,

even in

it’s most natural form.

Take the rose.

Evolved to produce thorns

to harm those

who would consume it.

Love is a rose.

To experience it’s beauty

up close, in its totality,

to be consumed by it.

You must be prepared to bleed.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

Have you ever wanted

to rip off your skin?

To dig your fingers

through flesh and muscle

until you reach bone.

To scrape your nails

along your femur

like a chalkboard.

To strip away

the meat

that makes you someone else.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

The Sleeping King

Do you know the tale of the sleeping king

lying beneath a mountain?

The stories of what his return will bring

when the time comes to call him?

For centuries he has slumbered

in the earth so deep,

waiting for the moment

to fulfil the oath he keeps.

That when we are in

our needy hour,

the king shall arise

from his long slumber,

with crown and sword

sheild and spear.

The ancient king

will reappear.

To protect his people

mighty King of Britain,

will return to banish

the most fearsome villian.

I wonder now

like many before me,

if our plight is enough

or merely a warning,

of what is to come

and leave us so forsaken,

that the old king

will finally awaken.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

The Deer

We hit a deer

my friend and I

driving late at night.

We never saw it

as they say

caught in our headlights.

We heard it though

the thud and crack

of metal meeting bone.

We got out

to find the fawn

bleeding on the stone.

Its movement stilled

eyes finding ours

as it came to die.

So we would know

it caught the headlights

in its dying eyes.

- lonermutt

[lonermutt]

Mine,

not to control

or to own.

Mine,

like a friend

or a favourite.

A title given

to show love.

Not so that others

can’t love it.

But so they know

it is loved

regardless.

- lonermutt