A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Tuesday, November 23, 2021

self-thrashing # 24,736.5

So. Here's a damn question for me
I'll warrant. Why, on social media 
for instance, am I always (oh, come
on "always"? How often! Irregularly
at best
) breathing a sigh of relief

to find someone 

I had random crush-catch pang
or fuzz of hot fondness for, once
- just a pure good thing, you know? 
A wonder and gratitude as one 
tends to have for all truth, good 
or beauty seen in evidence, in this 
far too often gorgeous, absolutely 
factually veracious and right-on 
world! Someone anyone, to come
across again distantly after long since
having drifted apart on separate lifelong
courses, for that matter never even slightly
in any sense "together," or "having" 
(I mean not this particular one) 

- and she has "kept her figure"?

No, arguably I do not think it
in those pig-dog terms, but 
I analyzed the reaction just now. 
Pretty sure that's about the size
and shape of it. Naturally I took 
a step back and said "Yo to self. 
How natural and cool a reaction 
is this, and/or some affront of 
some kind?"

See, I'm supremely vigilant of the fact
that if everybody was a mind-reader,
humanity's population would be halved
every week for as long as it took
for the available supply of aluminum
foil to be distributed as hats. Which, 

unrealistic hypothetical, but thoughts 
lead acts by the dick sometimes (or 
the equivalent), and words can wound. 
I don't say "I keep mine pretty clean," 
that's nonsense. Dirt isn't clean. Nudity 
is not held clean, though if people understood 
how many microbes and mites infested their
entire suit of clothes right now, down to 
the unders,
some of them would overreact 
into immediate nudity wherever they were, 
and demand the world find some way 
to scrub them clean 

which it never can, and would stall 
and stall over. Point is. So I had 
that reaction, as noted, and abnormal 
to me I had a thought about it. Also 
as noted. Reaction to a reaction - not 
my home mode, I'm a simple guy, 
but there was this to deal with now. 

I don't shirk that. People count
in my view, and I mean all of each, 
not just a big ogle in the goodies 
and walk on, "mission accomplished!" 
Such things need to be checked and 
why
they need to be checked could 
use some checking!   

Okay. So I began in on me by 
second nature, red in tooth and claw:

"Where's the pure glory 
of innocent everybody's own 
good humanity angle in that one, 

buster? FESS UP. You just want 
the once-fuckable (except in practice
with rather a practiced lack of attempt
or intent, only theoretically so) to keep
their honor and virtue 
of hotness,

whilst 'in mind'! 

- you maintain a devil of a 
self-advocacy job! Playing
the dispassionate social aesthete,
going 'Well of course, it's nothing 
to me either way but I expect 
that's a good thing for her 
life, in her own view even,

especially in view of this
hegemony of pig dog eye values
always propagating an as-if sex
objective fixed scale and rank
system hinged on 

- hotness, if posed as a virtue ideal, 
or
- fuckability in consequentialist
or utilitarianist terms, despite 

let's be honest, none of those 
lauded as fuckable tend to be, 

at least by those singing the lauds.'

A natty abstract case of dodge 
ball there buddy but it doesn't fly 
when YOU are one of the ones 
rating so rank, clearly! It's YOUR 
pig dog eye wallowing in the 
'kept figure' of some - one - known
to-you to-be way more than just 

a passel of well-placed sinew 
slapped on a skeleton and organized 
i.e. fit with organs, such as a skin 
to keep it all in and rounded out nicely 
with fat - but as nutritionist prigs say 
'the good fat. Not the bad fat.' 

That's crap and you know it! She's
got a HEART, TOO wait. OK. Technically
you covered that under 'organs.' Is that sufficient
to your so-called and posed heart of molten gold
beating out an unbeaten tom tom to the tune of
a dude catting around kitting out chicks in
mentally applied birthday suits immediately
transposed to one's own bird in the hand
upon the next convenience? Yeah yeah!
You make me sick, atomizing humans being 
to parts! You've clearly got her all covered, 
her human heart - all the glory and weight 
in the world, by your evident hypocrite 
scales! You just shuffle it in with the organs, 
as if it has no folk anatomical value or 
magic at all to you! What happened 
to YOUR heart when you were beaten 
as a child by your own hand I shouldn't 
suspect! Knowing as I do better. You got
her plumped with organs and wrapped up
in soft skin surrounding, heart deep within
pumping blood in more places than she knows, 

or cares to be aware of, I'd bet."

THIS is where one has to just 
step back from the duel of sides 
inside, declare it "overthinking it," 
further declare oneself on the sides
of all the real human beings in the case 
and against all unnatural warping
distortion to be posed and imposed
on any of them. 

It's worth doing. Overthinking 

sharpens the head whether done
right or not, sometimes. It rarely
-to-never solves the damn quandary,
but sometimes it does establish
there wasn't a quandary. Or as in

this case, there's 

arguably some stuff

it's good to spot. Gawk at. 
Accept, deny, or if
the getting is good as per
two norms and nature sets: catch,
give up and down receive likewise,
lay it where it lies right and
once found, identified for what's
what and good, perhaps? Keep in mind!
Heaped in with all the other stuff in the
keep pile. Congratulating yourself on how 
the keep heap has just overtopped the 
discard heap, equally present and 
oppressive. 

Then, you know, just grab your ass 
with both hands to prove you can 
tell the truth literally, and keep
eyes wise and wildly abreast
of further developments. 

YOU DON'T HAVE TO, 
nobody does 

Pretty frustrating stuff for some, 
and ultimately: who wants it?
Who needs it.

This one? 
I score as a draw, because 
I'm not sure what or whether 
any problem is, but I'm glad 
I checked myself headlong 
rather than proceed obliviously 
unawares into who knows 
what glorious annihilating 
pair of eyes, wrong word, 
right on time. 

I mean, to be honest such 
moments of truth are also 
to be prized. 

But I feel less stupid 
with the obvious 
when I can figure it out 
more wise than otherwise. 

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