The Poetic Ace

🦆 LIFE is a little bit Daffy You can’t duck it if you tried. And sometimes it Bugs us Oh, bunny, the comedy in the lies. Life can sometimes be too Goofy But it remains one hell of a ride. And when life becomes too Wile E. Plans backfire on us -- run or hide. But no matter how much life may Scrooge us There’s still hope when our ghosts of conscience rise. Yet too often we let our desires lead our actions Changing the future for our own timelines. And because we don’t learn from our mistakes We continue to Marty on the McFly. Then life devolves into some altered reality As our stories become more fictionalized. So, what becomes of our next of kin? That’s something we may never know. However, we can develop models to show us A number of possible futures where humanity— Can continue to grow.

 ✍️ Short and sweet I like poetry. I express myself through poetry. I love myself with poetry. Because no one else Notices me. 

💌🙅‍♂️💔 A Haiku for love Unrequited it will be No love life for me.

🌫️ From my head to my toes, from hats to my shoes I’ve got a closet full of black and blue hues. And with a small assortment of some colorful frays Isn’t it strange I still have some days where I somehow end up dressed all in grays— Is this my subconscious with something to say? Come hither heather through the layers of fog & ash while clouds pewter & pebble with each charcoaled shadow’s overpass as graphite slates unto an anchored mass. Who will next join me on a potentially romantic journey as I lay here pondering on Cupid’s gurney— Do I really have any real romantic inclinations or is my life just riddled with social replication? Because… I’ve had many different relationships I’ve sort of explored but for most I’ve failed to pull the ripcord of “what more?

💥 They say love is a battlefield But the war won’t have me Because of my preconditions? Gee, thanks, society. Why do you declare my asexuality— As just cause for why for you cannot date me? Why should my self-recognized genderless status— Change how you’ve previously felt about me? Just because I don’t prioritize sexual activity That doesn’t mean my romantic feelings aren’t reality. Just because I don’t recognize gender being specific to me Doesn’t mean I’m at all asking you to change how you see. I haven’t ascribed myself to any specific pronouns. I’m not even changing my name or how it’s pronounced. Everything that I am you’ve already been accustomed to Minus the labels I now use to help define my own truth. You’ve become disillusioned by the definitions Of the realities shown for what you’ve always known. But for some reason you’ve let prejudice take control Leaving our blossoming relationship overthrown. We could have become one of those picturesque stories The type others can’t

🥀The Roses are dead, The Violets are too. I no longer have— A green thumb for intimacy, This poem is proof.