Adventurous Aphorisms


Even during my lowest moments

I can feel the words

speaking to me.


the dead don’t know the living

(if they do,

they’re not completely dead).


I saw a man I work with

out of context

He’s tall

with thick-framed glasses

He teaches the musical arts

We have the same last name. Our first name is four letters.

I pretended not to see him

He pretended not to see me

It’s strange, that we can spend so much time with others

and not know them.


Human experiences are so often outside of our control

and that’s what makes them human.


I hope that I never lose the courage to give up control.

If I carefully plan an adventure, like a train schedule

I might be early, on-time, or late

but I won’t get-off the tracks.


An adventure is about letting go of predictable routines.


People are predictable


they make decisions

based on how much it costs.


If I can live inside the fire of passion

and sustain myself in the cold

I have one of the invisible elements

that people want

which can’t be bought:



and fulfillment

are other examples.


I am worried

that no amount of religious instruction

or change of heart

will prevent me

from wanting to have sex with all the women

at bible study.


If I become famous, I will be infamous

there will be no middle ground

I will shrug-off the opinions of society.

People are conditioned

to worry about what others think of them

their whole survival is dependent on:

work evaluations

marriage counseling

and the court of public opinion.


There is much that I don’t know about life

and much

that I think

that I know.

I never want to be one of those people who thinks that they know everything.


I spend most of my life within a ten-mile radius

I love my library because it’s a way to explore with my mind

My routines, keep me from exploring.


I dated an English Teacher once

who told me that she was never going to climb Mt. Everest

I was disappointed:

Here was somebody who read

so she didn’t have to take risks

I read to expand my awareness—to see black and white in color.


We can decide to change in one moment—it’s invisible

the purest form of transformation is done because we must


the impossibility of long-term change isn’t considered

because we decide to change each day.


Fear, keeps me from




and asking-out strange women on dates.

I think that I’m a fairly wise person and this is probably why I haven’t done foolish things

but it could also be that I’m cowardly.


A fair amount of laughing at myself

makes me invincible.


He Had Low Self-Esteem

there are so many things I want to write about

but it feels like my mind is blown in half


that’s what I get

for trying to have a social life.

I went to a 2 million dollar home last night

and the young man

had a beautiful wife

an airplane


and a motorcycle

He’s only 27.

“I don’t get jealous of most people,” he said.

I was feeling self-conscious and nauseous

I met a couple clean-cut young men

and we talked about church.

Then we played a St. Patrick’s Day trivia game

that I didn’t understand.

I was beginning to feel inept

I was breaking-out in cold sweats

“He’s a poet!” I heard my friend shout.

Suddenly, 20 eyes were watching me.

I don’t know how I got out of that one

I reached for some green peas

(all the food was green—that might be why I was sick)

Then, Karaoke broke out.

I stood there, watching the madness

when our host came over.

“You don’t like Karaoke, do you?” He asked me.

I smiled.

“Can I make you some tea?”

He led me into the living room and we began talking about my fear of marriage.

“You just have to find the right one,” he said wisely.

We got onto the subject of God, and my friend walked in.

“We got to go,” he said.

On the way home, I told him that I wasn’t feeling well.

“You’ll get over this rough patch,” he said. “It’s important that you socialize and get a better job—otherwise,

you could end up like that guy at church who strangled his wife to death and cracked her head with a hammer. He had low self-esteem.”

I thought about what my friend said…

Spending time alone was dangerous, and socializing made me sick.

There was no way to win.

On the Power of Attitude

Much in life depends on your attitude

but most people have been fooled


they listen to self-help gurus

who admonish them with the correct attitude.

“Work Hard. Play Less.”

(you should listen to me, instead. ha ha.)

The “correct” attitude is a slave mentality.

Recently, my mother told me

that I remind her of Benjamin Franklin.

She gave me a book on his life.

“He was a writer too,” she said.

“You don’t say.”

“Successful People” live by Benjamin Franklin’s quotes

and they get



Because their attitude

is not an expression of who they are.

The coolest thing a person can do

is choose their attitude.

It will be called “bad”

by those who don’t understand it, and they will insist

there is something wrong with you,

but when you get

different results

they will

think of you

as a genius.

I admire those

who don’t work for a living.

How they survive

is by some kind of magic

or grace from the gods.

This attitude

brings them

into contact with powerful forces,

that moves them like a magnet

in a unique direction.

Dream Walker

I internet searched a recent dream I had

and it said

that the black and white photograph of friends

meant that I was ready to move on with my life—

that it would be a smooth transition.

I believe in paying attention

to dreams.

My writing dream is one that I nurture

with warm milk

before I go to sleep.

I hear stories of people

who have headaches

they want to add credentials to their name

they are not satisfied in their position

I look at my life like a leaf

and the wind blows me

from here to there

I don’t fight it

I don’t argue with it

It whispers to me

and I listen.

If we confidently follow our dreams

we will wind up where waking reality never intended.

Waiting on Writing

waiting for a poem

is a lot like waiting for your life to start

drinking espresso shots

and waiting

is not stressful

despite what ambitious writers say,

“I fear the blank page.”

When writing isn’t working out

I let it sleep on the couch.

When your whole life is in front of you


you can wait on it

and when your whole life is behind you


you can wait on death

and when death knocks on your door


you can answer it.

I love to stay in a silent room and wait

and watch the sun go down.

Waiting is the only way to understand

the sunset

and the darkness

that follows it.

the good life

My life has gotten incrementally better

as I have learned about

what I like

and what I don’t like.

I make no apologies for it.

I don’t smile at my boss anymore.

I try not to go to meetings.

I save my money to buy time.

I pay for a better haircut, so that my stylist treats me better

and doesn’t shove product up my ass

like a drug mule.

I am seriously considering flying first class

wearing tailored suits

buying a Porsche 911

and going on vacation

until that becomes my final destination.

I know many people do these things

to be important in the eyes of others

but I don’t give a damn.

I’ve suffered enough.

In real moments

you see who they are


not enough

low self-esteem—

and then they put on their merciless mask

and smile.

It is so easy to become like that

there is no strength of philosophy there

just a beaten bull

without testicles.

My dream is to become something more

bloodied, from the wars

full of electric fire

that shocks people to death.

What I admire…

What I admire


the alcoholic who gets sober for a reason

the fire that has been drowned, buried, and scattered

glows underground.

I admire a homeless man with mental illness

who decides to get a job

the cubicle worker who endures a sadistic boss.

I admire the man

in a small room


with his thoughts.

There are so many people

with opinions

that seemingly matter more

than your own,

but this just isn’t true.

I admire the survivors

who walk in and out

of society,


by the simple reality

of work.

I admire those

who are their own world


don’t advertise it.

I admire the man who knows he is weak

and decides to get strong

he listens to literature at night

he keeps his own counsel

the fight is out there

and he’s ready

#1372. Undefeated.

the leader

doesn’t know where his followers have gone

he walked too far into the desert

he said too many wrong things

many of his followers died (they were retirement age)

he should have recruited young girls

but it’s too difficult to stimulate them with words

he’s competing with:


men who drive BMWs

and TikTok.

It’s time to end this poem.

I Love Books! I Love my Library! I Love Librarians (Kind of)!

Now, the librarians notice me

and their German Shepherds get between me and the bookshelves.

They are feminist nazis with service dogs,

blue-haired lesbians without partners.

I walked confidently to my books on hold…

“Your stuff is taking up too much space,” she said.

I adjusted my face

to the voice

and smiled.

“I like to learn stuff.”

“Oh—that’s all good and well, but how many of those books can you read at the same time?”

“You’d be surprised,” I said. “I like to have orgies with them.”

Her jaw dropped.

She hadn’t made love to a book

since 3rd grade.