Tag: I

Dialectic Discoveries

‎“…the oppressed…exist in a dialectical relationship to the
oppressor, as his antithesis-that without them the oppressor could not
exist…The oppressed can over come this contradiction in which they
are caught only when this perception enlists them in struggle to free
themselves.” — Paulo Freire

endeavors

I wasted them
too much on You: an unspecified person or people in general
word phrases, such as “Fuck them”, even with good intentions
built on good things, I am afraid of losing, and I still want to hold onto, as is

diagrams, making a backlash blueprint, a deja vu
fully endorsed for You to fully forget the previous
a most cunning I, a most depleted but
where’s yours, where’s mine
reminiscent comet
ricocheting the earth’s surface
eclipsing the sun
burning with spinning promise
scattering cinders of hot bread
thoughts shattered across the hemisphere
where You, I, we live.

Architecture of “You”

There’s nothing “Indie”, in·de·pend·ent about You…

Doesn’t it sound good though, ìndə péndənt

and to think without conjunctions

connecting

that fickle clause:

the making of a tastemaker

one who defines taste

based on

nothing other than what you are not to them

and the what we’re all rebelling against

a zeitgeist however small.

You’ll remember such a moment.

I wish I had thrown

my opinion through a window

smashing the enclosure of me

and then relinquished it in the irony of a blog

for all to view and to follow in weekly segments.

To hate…

To agree…

To dismiss…

To wonder about…

To trend…

And then define like a science.

What is new and what is not:

the what a terrible to look and to listen to.

The unorthodox use of expression

would have been mine to oversee

because I can, however public

because I obviously need

to be a part of the Fickler.

Even during work breaks

or after hours

there’s always

a need for a benchmark

however drunkard and desperate

to see and hear

of a relentless muse

that will continue to be the ultimate chaperone.