Everyone has feelings and they don't always surface or co-inside with mine. That is the fact that I have to realize. I wrote kinda subversive poem yesterday becuz I was angry at someone. I can easily find someone's faults and identify them and blend them into poetry. I have a gift of writing.
But people should not use their talents as a weapon and I rarely do. The last time I was involved in subversive, subliminal messages was when I was hooked up with Branden Marks, the Jewish set costumer who was the single, most destructive young male in America. He had so many bad habits, God would have to subdivide his soul in separate rehabs in Hell. He was a total lost cause, consumed with lust, obsessed with older women, and all for the basic gratification of self. Just to have an ordinary conversation with him was okay, but when he tried to weave his way into my life for only his satisfaction was a painful downspin. It was the epitome of missionary dating and I was in too deep. I still have a reservoir of love for #BrandenMarks. My love for him was a testimony to my life. I loved him the best way I could but it was a fruitless effort. I wonder in his deepest, darkest moment he realized Orit Levy loved him, too. She was the mother of his child, Aiden. Oh, Branden, how much you just threw away like a vagrant drunk on an overnight lust binge. You could not separate love from lust, right from wrong, integrity from desire. You are groping in the world with your flesh driven ways and your lack of appropriateness, chasing strippers on Twitter in a shameless way. How unduly pathetic considering your parents raised you in an affluent Jewish neighborhood and financed your house. You are the anti thesis of all things I respect - humility, obedience, loyalty, a good cause and a heart of faith. Can a human really be that wasted on their own modern desires, just an engine of their vagrant lusts to never even have a hint of reform? The dark path he has chosen.
I am alive in this new, serene Duluth world.
The world where the pine and birch merge
the leaves change in the Fall
the railroad tracks lead to vision points you can't see from the onset
where all the kids are athletes
and run into the dark and red forests of changing hues
Where each day is bright and crisp
and no one questions their destiny
they don't sit on the edge
the only ones living the dream of the damned
are the downtown residents
who are wrapped up in eachother's company
cheerfully sipping their Barcadi
cheating themselves out of life
I am caught somewhere inbetween in Mid town.
between the drunks and the privileged
observing both social classes
and the misplaced Black children
who run wild and ride their bikes with grace
roaming the streets with no parental direction
yet finding their way on their own.
The earth moves on without definitions
there is a forest across my street
a place to get lost
a stream I can fall into
a way to create my future and death.