Something stagnant,
but comfortable,
and safe.
Something taken for granted,
chokes and fails,
giving way to,
nothing of value.
Something appreciated and nourished,
gets back up,
with every fall,
and won't die.
Boredom battling,
against an ideal of novelty,
scarcely acknowledged,
never understood.
Take it from a man,
who has survived many trenches,
nothing comes easy,
but something breaks easy.
Progress is possible
resistance is not futile.
A green fire burns my heart,
it's now or never, clock swings,
an awkward metronome reminder,
we'll be gone soon, your hand on the,
pawn; mine's on a queen, empty and gone.
Hand moves piece,
queen dead by inaction,
rotting and decaying in another,
time, when a queen meant something,
special, but any unique nature died long ago,
hand removes piece from playing board in a flurry,
of traded blows that left both sides weak, pathetic, and vulnerable,
trust me.
Something broken in time;
no Ticktockman willing;
and all the king's men,
failed to put my life,
back together.
That shell broke long ago,
and I slipped out of it,
into someone else.
Well, now that you're all here because of the keyword "sex" (half-joking…), I'd like to open a serious dialogue about the topic.
First, I believe that we live in a society where sex is rarely spoken about, and is treated as though it's something to hide. If a person speaks about it too frankly, or too often, they are classified as either a pervert or a slut, and sometimes both. That being said, I still talk about it openly, honestly, and relatively often (labels/stereotypes be damned!).
The response I get when I discuss it is usually something sexist. "Typical," most people say, "a guy wanting to talk about sex." HELLO!? Women have sexual needs too, and some of them are not afraid to discuss it openly and honestly, if they trust you. There's some mystifying sexist belief that men talk about sex, because they're the perverted gender. I've had far more discussions about sex with females, and not just because I had a sexual interest in the person I was conversing with (because I know everyone was thinking that was the reason).
As a male in his twenties, I become pigeon-holed the moment I bring up sex oftentimes. As soon as I mention the subject I get the above-mentioned 'typical' response. It's frustrating for a number of reasons. First, I legitimately enjoy discussing sex. It's a fascinating subject, and explains a lot about the person you're talking with. Second, despite the conventionally-held belief, as a male, I don't want to sleep with every girl I try to chat up. Third, sex SHOULD be discussed in great detail, it's one of the most important parts of life (if not the most important, depending if you talk to heavy supporters of evolution and general supporters of humanity's on-going existence :P).
To be honest, I've been incredibly surprised by a lot of my conversations regarding sex. Some people have zero (or almost zero) experience with sex, well into their twenties. Despite the obvious assumption, some of these individuals are not overly-religious, and are actually attractive. On the flip-side, some of my friends have a vast amount of sexual experience (yes, even some of the ladies too, who aren't "sluts.")
It's always interesting to have perspective into the sex-life of friends. Humans are naturally social creatures, and therefore love discussing things we can relate to. EVERYBODY can relate to sexuality, even if they haven't had sex before. It's rare to find an interesting topic, which everybody can discuss. Interesting + relative + passionate = great conversation. And if there are three things I know about sex; it's that these words describe it well, at least most of the time. ; )
What are your thoughts about sexuality? Are people open enough about it? Do you find people who discuss it honestly and openly? Are you open and honest when discussing it with others? How strong are the stereotypes regarding sex?
Narcissism battles modesty,
and I wonder who will win tonight,
it's an unfair match, a raw street fight,
between a thug and a gentleman,
who can't communicate on the same level;
one fights with a sword,
that never encountered a pen it liked,
the other theoretically knows the pen is mightier,
but fears the reality of cold steel.
Some things don't work in the real world,
and some things hurt for keeps.
Sometimes wars are lost forever,
one small battle at a time.
There's a frustration seeping through my skin,
lighting my best nights up in a painful, pretty fire,
I hope you enjoy the view.
To be honest,
I never spared a thought for you,
looking down from glass ceiling,
you were caged by emotional limitations,
you had placed on yourself long ago,
and never let go,
of,
and it was too late even back then;
hasn't it bee a decade yet?
It feels like a century,
and that's the best thing i could say about you,
we're sharing a thought,
doomed to expire after this poem ends,
so savour it;
maybe it hit,
I was never your saviour,
and couldn't be,
but we tried,
and that's more than we could say,
about most people.
At least remember that,
if you share any memory at all,
there was never grace before the fall,
that's only for the movies, books,
and other relationships without you.
Sleep well,
and far away from me.
Every touch,
a piece of heart,
a lonely pair,
with a new start.
Prophets didn't write it down,
a new beginning, a new town,
a fresh filter for my thoughts,
throw the old ones to the dogs.
I watch the sun rise over hills,
you populated with poison quills,
but will roam around no longer.
My strength returns slowly;
my eye catches a ray of sun,
a ray of hope,
a new dawn.
Infused with energy,
a smile spreads across my face like cancer,
the chances of its survival are the same,
or maybe not this time.
Optimism fights with reality,
a spear tipped with malice and distrust,
swinging like a welterweight in the first,
occasionally biting crimson,
but often slicing air alone;
the battle will end somehow.
Everything ends,
somehow.
Andy Veilleux 