the most tragic affair

is the man who can’t have an affair

the man who is beaten so slowly

he won’t admit he was fighting.

I have an affair with Samson—that man from the bible

who lost his inspiration

due to his trust of a woman.

She had his eyes poked out, and he was nothing but a slave

but he prayed one last time, to retain his honor

and he knowingly paid the price with his life.

What will you trade your life for

before death

For one chance, to say, “Enough. I will gamble.”

Suicide, is romantic, if one doesn’t quit

but most people want to end their pain, and quit suffering.

Frustration is a force

that causes people to die before they die—only a few go mad.

We are living lives that are too careful

Failure, is our lack of faith

our lack of balls

our impotence

our inability to make things happen

Women are laughing at us

and they should.

It hurts the failed man,

because he knows the only desirable women

are those he can’t have.

He has the good things of life, because he didn’t quit

but there is nothing he has won, and a participation trophy, is no trophy at all

He might complain at the walls, justifying his accomplishments

saying things out-loud, he doesn’t believe

“I’m such a great guy. I have a degree. Why won’t worthy women love me?”

and people call him judgmental

but there is no fighting, reality

His success in the office

means as much, as the paperwork he pushes—

it all ends up in the trash.

Women won’t give him the time of day

until the final hour, when they need a man, as a place-holder

but by then, there is no woman left, in the woman

they are no longer wild

because they couldn’t find a wild man.

A wild man lives by his own law

Contrary to the selfish, easy, life

His existence is intolerable, without a reason “Why?”

and the most common reaction to him, from well-adjusted society

is, “Why are you doing that?”

And He might answer, “Why do anything?”

Safe-lives take comfort in his rhetorical question

because it seems, that living is relative—

that all living is equal,

worth-while,

but it’s not.

The only life worth living, is one, where you can step into a room, and be known

Most men who walk into a room are ignored

they leave no impression

even their shadows are ashamed of them.

There are beautiful women, who aren’t wild

and there are beautiful women, who don’t seem wild, but they are

they just haven’t opened up to you

because you aren’t the sun

the rain

or the wind

or any force at all

Why should they share their wild beauty with you?

You aren’t wild

You can’t enjoy their flower

You are like a dog chasing a car

if you caught it, you wouldn’t know what to do with it

and it would probably run you over.

The wild woman

does not defile herself

So many women, pretend to be wild

but they are always doing life

by themselves.

They wonder why they can’t find a wild man

and it’s because they aren’t wild

the fakers are caged cats

with their eyes glazed over

raised in captivity

because that’s all they have known

and for all their reactivity

they’ve not had a single original idea.

To stay wild in this life

requires more than persistence, in the face of frustration

and I’m not really sure what that is

Most of us are tame, and that is our destiny

but for me, it feels like, “Get it over with, now!”

I can’t take one more day of this

I want a wild woman

and I am tired of being tired

the force must cut through bullshit

and be obvious, like faith

If it’s invisible, it’s nothing.

Most people pretend to have it

but my faith must quite literally move mountains

and then I’ll say, “I believe in God.”