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Archive for the tag “soul”

And If a Hundred

modern times TWO WALKING png

It’s not about who you want to love.  Love is very much like lust in that way.  If you could fuck a hundred, you could love a hundred.  And if a hundred fucks, or a hundred loves, there must be a hundred reasons to love the one of them who could love you.

Will she keep you honest when you’re having that asshole moment, when you don’t yet know how stupid you are in those thirty seconds between your idiot words and when you speak the words that tell her you’re sorry?  And for those thirty seconds, will she still keep her hand on your cock, and look you straight in the eyes, waiting, because her love for you will not wane, even when it hurts her soul?  And more important than that, will she tell you, right then, in that moment?  Because you’re a fool sometimes, and you don’t want her to just get over it, you want her to share her disappointment or sadness or grief, even if, especially if, you are the one who caused it.  Because that’s the only way you will learn how to love. 

Because only the insanity should be temporary.

It’s not about who you want to love.  It’s about who wants to love you.  And if a hundred fucks, or one.  A hundred loves, or one.  A hundred reasons, or one.  

 

© Copyright 2017 William S. Friday

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Lesson from a Bogus Journey

death

Death came to me,

in the middle of the night,

playing Battleship

for my soul. 

Have no fear of death,

as long as he plays his games

on your turf. 

And when he says to you,

“Best two out of three?” 

Tell him to

talk to the chain smoker

in the next aisle over.

 

© Copyright 2016 William S. Friday

Writer’s Block

“So block me, already.”

I would never actually say

“There’s not one thing I can say to make this better, but I want to try, because that’s just me. Always trying to fix things after I’ve broken them.”

I have a broken track record

“Except I don’t even know where to begin. It’s like my soul has writer’s block, and I know that all words are meaningless. Because with you, actions speak.”

you have a track record too

“So I’ll say my broken peace, and leave you to yours.”

that’s all I know to do

“I was wrong, and probably always will be. So don’t reply… please, don’t.”  

I couldn’t read it even if you did

“Just block me.”

just block me

 

 © Copyright 2016 William S. Friday

Bukowski

nablo bukowski

I don’t want to be Bukowski
I want to drink and not get drunk
and have faith in something other than my own bowel movements
I want to love and not grow cold
and not end life writing sci-fi noir from a chair next to my deathbed

I don’t want to be Bukowski
Whatever others think and like to compare
and know that my life was worth more than a place in the Dewey Decimal System
I want to live and not grow old
and not have generations remember only for how Mickey Rourke portrayed me

I don’t want to be Bukowski
Because bitter doesn’t suit me
and the laughter in my soul is best expressed in joy and love
I want my words to be retold
and felt on the lips of others the way they lived in my own heart when I wrote them

I don’t want to be Bukowski
So I won’t

© Copyright 2015 Bill Friday

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