passive assggressive

i'll leave little mementos of my emotions

won't use the native language to communicate my desires

will instead place cryptic symbols to express my intent

and you'll have to guess what i want

i won't grow

i'll lie limp and wet behind an action or object discarded

i won't take responsibility for expression

but will rather wait and expect you to unravel its meaning

i will place the duty on you merely through displacement

you'll read my flaccid notes and wonder who the gucci bag really is

i'll pout and sadly go about my day

only child syndrome on the way

looking as though such a force

when nothing wells inside

cannot use words

but will expect you to hear me

filling a balloon

thousands of holes

you'll yawn at my inability


-Lahmadaj

status

and mood

one can change these to allow others to see and know his state of existence

'yeah right

get real'

what realm is this emoticon

an imagined space

so to create a gathering of other non-existent spaces

does anyone care of the others' temperament regarding the taco they just ate

regarding the boil pained slowly on the leg

nope, didn't think anyone gave a fuck

the other is not here

i can not touch him

i do not see her face

i can not laugh with him

i see no light

there is no body

there is no embrace

no scent

there are only typed shelled words

expressing menial obligations to the man or pop

and i sit quietly

wondering when this stupid shit may suck me into the trash ball

or it already has wrapped its boredom around me tight

pulling the air away

i sit quietly

and wonder why i have few friends

and fewer loves

it may be easily my own inability

though it may be the prescribed life one claims as his own

how much of it is one's own

i suppose

the shit

the voice

the gas 

the blood movement

the bipedal stomp

i doubt any of the mind

except one miniscule fragment of light

which most contemporaries 

dress up in robes of pop culture 

and extravagance 

as though it really is that cool

as though they really give a fuck

as though they've expanded to such heights of awareness

though they know not when they've farted

or when they've burned down a youth

turn his skin into gold

we can wear it around our necks

and laugh heartily at our believed appreciation of art

of human

of the passion inside

read all about it in my status

my emotion 

my essence

the lovers know; the others blow

the night is breathing

the sun is low

-lahmadaj