relationship – radical druid

Something Else

Published on July 28, 2025

If I am not selling you something,
I am selling you something.
If I am not telling you something,
I am telling you something.
If I am not giving you something,
I am giving you something.
If I am not showing you something,
I am showing you something.
If I am not teaching you something,
I am teaching you something.
If I am not feeding you something,
I am feeding you something.
If I am not promising you something,
I am promising you something.

28 JUL 2025

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No More Martyrs

Published on July 24, 2025

I don’t want to be your obsession.
I don’t want to be your life lesson.
I don’t want to be your physician.
I can’t be your last condition.

I don’t want to be your sole reason.
I don’t want to be your best season.
I don’t want to be your solution.
I won’t be your whole revolution.

I don’t want to be your creation.
I don’t want to be your sedation.
I don’t want to be your reflection.
I can’t be your friendly suggestion.

I don’t want to be your only choice.
I don’t want to be your master’s voice.
I don’t want to be your rival.
I can’t be your hope for survival.

I don’t want to be your obsession.
I don’t want to be your life lesson.
I don’t want to be your sweet nothing.
I won’t be your last chance at something.

24 Jul 2025

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Celebrity Nobody

Published on July 11, 2025

I don’t need to hang your poster.
You don’t need to worship mine.
I don’t need to have your autograph.
If you ask for mine, I won’t sign.
I don’t need your attaboy,
and you sure don’t ask for mine.
I don’t need my name in lights,
nor plastered on your picket signs.
I don’t need your plastic smiles
or superficial hugs.
I don’t need protection from
your loving, mindless thugs.
I don’t need to think you love me.
You don’t want my affection.
I don’t need you to approve me,
any more than your rejection.
I don’t need your picture in a frame.
We’re both too old to play that game.
I don’t need you telling me
inside we’re both the same.
I don’t need to share my secrets.
You don’t tell me yours.
I don’t need your vital essence
to keep my future visions pure.

I don’t need to tell you this.
You don’t even care.
I don’t need to say a thing.
You’re not really there.

11 JUL 2025

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Out There: rime royal

Published on June 23, 2025

You cannot heal a thing by using hate.
That salve infects a wound and makes it burn,
then die and rot. Then it is far too late
to blame the medicine you chose to take
for giving you results you didn’t see.
There’s no returning from such a mistake,
no happiness can bloom from enmity.

You cannot build a lasting thing with spite.
A mortar mixed in this way will not hold,
and starts to crumble when exposed to light.
No matter the great wisdom of your plan,
or skills you may employ to shape and frame,
the end result is flawed and will not stand.
You just replace one evil with the same.

You cannot change unless you understand
the world is what it is because of you,
and is by your own doing, shifting sand.
To learn the words for healing, you must seek
beyond the edges of the map you know.
Out there, past right and wrong, past strong and weak,
is where, to find the future, we must go.

23 Jun 2025

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Nothing Left to Lose: ghazal

Published on June 2, 2025

When you first discover love, you find something to lose;
not quite yourself, a place apart that you’re afraid to lose.

But then you realize that time itself is meaningless and small,
an artificial sense of space too infinite to lose.

Inside each single moment, in that space between your breaths,
exists an entire universe where we find what we lose.

There is no separation between you and your beloved;
illusions of both time and space become just tools you lose.

And as the lines evaporate, observer and observed
become an integrated, simple thing with nothing left to lose.

02 Jun 2025

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Liquid Concentration: barzaletta

Published on April 18, 2025

Pick up that sad and ancient game;
select your poison: wealth or fame.
Thinking that we’re all the same
can make it hard to shift the blame.

No bird can fly with one wing lame;
old toothless tigers can be tamed,
but still may seek to wound or maim,
or anyway, that’s what they claim.

Look past the edges of the frame,
beyond your dying bonfire’s flame –
for in the end, the things you name
are powerless to share your shame.

19 APR 2025

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The Critic: riddle

Published on April 28, 2017

Who tears apart, but never builds;
in summer, says he prefers chills;
proclaims “I won’t” when others will;
expects to never pay the bill?

Who tends to “no”, withholding “yes”;
predicts more failure than success;
looks to curse rather than bless;
just compliments under duress?

Who finds the flaw in beauty’s whole;
un-masks delusions in each role;
runs not to praise, at best, cajole;
and celebrates his self-control?

Who gets no joy in dance or song,
unless detailing things gone wrong;
and sits aloof, above the throng
who sway and smile and sing along?

Who in the end has only words;
an empty theater of absurd;
gray stones that never turns to birds;
and empty echoes never heard?

Who condescends, too proud to bend;
see only foes, and not one friend;
from years of living to offend;
alone, unwanted in the end?

The Critic.

28 APR 2017

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Tag: relationship

Something Else

No More Martyrs

Celebrity Nobody

Out There: rime royal

Nothing Left to Lose: ghazal

Liquid Concentration: barzaletta

The Critic: riddle