who
what
when
where
why
is Love?

who
what
when
where
why
is You?

how can the heaven’s permit us to say

I
Love
You

without knowing the words?

Your job is to struggle.

But every day, I am born again, and I exit the womb crying, feeling the coldness and the pain that comes with it; the pain of life, the pain of reality. And yet I know I must feel this pain. For I must live. For staying in the womb is not life, it’s avoidance.

Staying in the womb for want of not being hurt, of not losing joy, or of not growing up hard, without laughter, and without love, is very tempting. And yet every day, despite all that, I leave, for the gelid reality.

And every night I do it backwards; I go back to the place where all my dreams are true – my mind, my womb. Back to the place with infinite warmth, comfort, and food. All attained without ever having to lift a finger, the ultimate vacation.

All renounced in the morning, for a world which hates, which pummels, and which freezes to death. Freezes with it’s unkindness, it’s shunning, and it’s underlying cruelty. All forms of unhurried torture that make one forget the warmth of the womb too soon. Yet all making you remember it the more, for yearning of it. The only thing holding you together being the realization that hypothermic is not something you want to be.

The only thing holding you together being the daily routine; walking forward towards the cold, doing it backwards to the warmth, doing it again tomorrow, and through it all desperately hoping that the temperature change doesn’t break you.

some of us build scuba-gear.
smiling at our ingenuity
consciously,
really smiling at our self-delusion
made reality
subconsciously.
the self-delusion being that the ocean is tameable, handleable,
graspable.. by Man’s hands.
and that the waters of life really aren’t that harsh afterall.
too late do we realize that
sharks swim behind us, that
the air in our tanks is depleting, and that
eventually water rusts all things,
including scuba-gear.

and some of us learn how to breath underwater.
but it’s not easy.
Man is a land animal.

the stories were true,
the great flood is real.
it came, and it stayed.
noah’s ark is the myth.

she held it out to her sleeves.
farther even!

she shook and rattled it.
look at it! look at it!

her love was a tin cup.
a beggar’s kind of love.

demanding attention.
demanding affection.

demanding charity.

her love was a tin cup.
and I found out that

my pockets were empty.

i gave it to you master,
i gave it to you dame,
and I gave it to you, little boy,
i felt to, i knew your pain.

black sheep, have you any love?
no sir, no sir, i have no wool.
i am naked, i am cold, i am dead,
and you were cruel.

there’s this other poem I’m writing,
about why i hate you,
it’s finished.
it’ll certainly kill.

i’ll give you one.
i probably will.

i learn too fast.
i get out too right.

my tragedy is that i have no tragedy.

i get out too light.

Batman represents Man.

A being haunted by his past failures who goes out to put his mark on everything to prove to himself his own self-worth. Hurt by his past he rarely trusts anyone. He’s a workaholic, and chases women mainly as a ploy to prove to everyone that he’s ‘normal’, but he occasionally falls for his own stunt; he occasionally falls in love. And of course, every man loves the souped-up car, and the ultimate bachelor pad. (Butler represents his mother. Someone who he thinks he can live without but really can’t.)

Joker represents Woman.

A being who, to themselves and all others, constantly acts irrationally yet in the end somehow proves to be the smartest person in the room. The bleached skin, red lips, and green hair signify Woman’s constant battle with make-up and outward-appearances. (Harley represents her ideal best friend in the opposite sex, someone who’ll go the the ends of the world for her; someone who’ll kill for her.)

Batman vs Joker is really about Man vs Woman. The two constantly face each other, constantly trade wins and losses, but in the end they both can’t exist in a world without each other.

photo credit: Sabbath Photography

don’t be a rebel, don’t be a dick. get on board, get on deck.
they say.

you’ll be fried trying to be freed. stay where you are.
they say.

you want to get fitter? oh, we’ll stop you – we have fetters.
they say.

stop trying to pick a better future for yourself. stop trying to pick a better future for yourself.
they peck.

that writing you do with your quill pen, quell it. now. or else.
they say.

those words you write, they’re six six six. those words you write, they’re sex sex sex.
we are religious. you are blasphemous.
they say.

stop writing your tails, you’re barely making taels. stop your foolishness.
they say.

your wrists, just try to wrest them from our grasp. just try!
they finally say.

…e before i, except after c.
they say.