I find myself baffled in my defeat, having stayed on guard and defensive for all possible sorts of daddy issued dilemmas, only to be blindsided by a plethora of ideas I hadn’t even considered. Having worked my hardest to find balance against common themes of insecurity and the compensation of male validation in my teenage… Continue reading On parent problems and how you can’t escape them
Category: Uncategorized
On parents
The mortality and death of one, instantly highlights the limitations and finality of the other. My mother’s actions and presence are a constant taunting reminder of the way time passes unnoticed and one day will sweep her away into memory. Her mothering is ever present in the lacking space of my fathering, and it puffs… Continue reading On parents
On balance
If my head were to Open down the middle From the pressure implied by Lover and loved and the books I haven’t finished, If I were to open and spill I wonder What kinds of things undigested, undiminished, Would scatter and tumble out: the jokes i forgot to tell you tangled in my memories of… Continue reading On balance
on finishing
I had completely forgotten, until I woke up, that today is my very last day of classes. A year ago I thought this day would LITERALLY never arrive. I have had multiple breakdowns in the course of the past few years, sobbing into my mom’s lap that I will never ever be able to finish… Continue reading on finishing
I and the Robot
me with all my pulpy parts, and you stand there so shiny and sterile. feelings feel like how dirty feels, and the robot, algorithms, cogs turning wheels. I go with guts that bleed so messy, its risks are cut crisp, it’s the precision that gets me. while i flail in broad and fluttered strokes, the… Continue reading I and the Robot
on windsheilds
we sit in metal traps:we feel safe,having guarded ourselves with vinyl and glass. to keep the forests alive,we set fire to the yellow fieldsand every summer instead of warmthit’s just heat the fire yields.we feel safe in metal trapsspeeding along behind plates of glass,lying to ourselves with safety straps.
on comforts
Maybe we gofrom things like candy to things like brandyBecause our youth is like the sugar in them both:First sweet and often sought,then fermented,just sweet rot.
on storybooks
the sanctity of the fairy tales we hold close, lies in the impossibility of those places. I marvel and cherish such a utopia,because its beauty is in that I will never reach it,no one will ever reach it and it will therefore stay perfect forever.everything we touch we tarnish.
Party for the Fight to Write
I’m going to start really using this blog as a resource for myself as an aspiring writer. While I will still be posting the occasional impulse poem, I will be starting to practice my articles and reviews. I receive monthly subscription boxes that give me the opportunity to try several new brands of products every… Continue reading Party for the Fight to Write
on the royal jordanian, new york to amman
the plane lands in fields arid and emptyred in the south, and everywhere dusty, and the dead sea holds its breath, bellows under Pangaea’s plates,welcomes me home again. with every landing my stomach braced,dusty nostalgia revisited,my silly hope misplaced: the fields forget me, and I forget to forgive it,assuming always that my land also sought… Continue reading on the royal jordanian, new york to amman
Garbanzo Bae 