things and thoughts pt-1

because i am lazy and have the attention span of a 3 year old, ive had many many inspirings to write but none of them have come to fruition. i am here now at work, with a 100+ page contract to read and find loopholes in.it is this situational circumstance that now motivates me to write surprise surprise.(any way to get away from work hurrah)

so...Osama's dead.shot.killed. and the world rejoices. i think this wrong. the world may be better without the Osamas of the world but there are still(and always will be, albeit sadly) monsters out there.just that their names are not Osama or muhammed or salim and they dont blatantly and audaciously bomb twin towers and mono towers. death is final and complete and real. the death of ANY person. people who die have families. even 'monsters'. an episode of Greys Anatomy once centered around a shooting at a high school. the mother of the young man who'd shot and killed a number of his school-mates cried alone in a corner of the waiting room unable to believe and come to terms with the fact that her son was a murderer. meanwhile, the shooter-kid was on the operating table bleeding and dying from a gunshot wound fired by the Police and some of the doctors refused to operate on him because he was a murderer. while the mother waited for her son. now this is TV. but you know what they say, art imitates life (which i truly believe to be true by the way). to the mother of the killer, the killer is not the killer but the person she gave birth to. i am aware that this might be a poor argument in considering men like Osama Bin Laden. but so often, much too often, we consider ourselves first and too quickly. i am flawed. as are we all. some more so than other. i am screwed up. as are we all. some more so than others. i grieve the absence of grief for the person whose death brought joy to the world. 'the fools we are as men'

where does Beast begin?

this is a thought that has surfaced many many times. i say many many times because unfortunately many many times, we as human beings let out our claws our fangs. and every time a killer is killed in order that justice is served, i flinch.
so it is, today, a rapist was beaten by an angry mob. a sick- in-the-head pedophile, raped and killed a 4 year old girl. hence, the beating. he succumbed to his 'injuries' a few hours later. there is anger, hurtful anger in the air.and talk goes around.. how he had it commin', he must be made a lesson of(for future rapists.how absurd!).
here are some thoughts from a generally apathetic creature(i dread calling myself a human BE-ing at this moment):
is reason and logic involved in rape?
do rapists think things through before they rape? do they think...what if i get caught? will i be jailed, gaoled, shackled? will i be beaten black and blue? will i be hanged electrocuted? will i be raped in return for my rape?
do rapists think these thoughts?

does anyone have the right to take someone else's life? no? so is that why we have prisons? to cage the ones that dare to claim a right, to a person's life(and death)?

but if we do it to stake some sort of moral justice, it becomes ok? condone-able?

let THIS be a lesson! let this death, of this 'beast' be a lesson! really?

my grandfather died of asthma. he smoked. let this be a lesson.my father was a borderline chain smoker. i smoke. let this be a lesson.

your fellow rapist has been bludgeoned to death. beware. be aware.rapists of the now.rapists of the future!

i say to you, torch bearers of an ideal, how will you sleep at night, days from now, weeks from now, months from now, years from now?
the rapists will sleep, the murderers will sleep. reason does not guide their choice.
what guides your choice, you men that dole out moral justice through the jabs of your fist, through the kicks of your feet?

a killing is never made ok by a killing. and if i live in a world where that has become an inevitability, i do not wish to live in it.

21 things i want in a lover

do you like babies
do you like dogs
can you dance like there's no tomorrow
do you like meat and are you an any sports fanatic
do you have big hands that will correspond with my small ones
will you think that surrendering is actually freedom
do you enjoy poetry even if you do not write
are you a voracious reader and can hold your own with the best of them
do you enjoy comfortable silences as much as laughter
can you be silly on occasion
are you strong really strong and not be bent by adversarial circumstances
can you adapt
do you believe and does that belief spur you on
do you possess prowess
can you USE that prowess
are you patient and accommodating
can you read minds
can you anticipate me
can you speak to my fears
can you love me on the condition that i love you and nothing else

the bus

i ride an hour on the bus the ride is bumpy and swerves and throws you sideways left and right and if you dont know the person sitting next to you you feel uneasy its not your intention to push into their space
but i have a seat i always get a seat the two days ive 'travelled'
the drive i savour with every riff that plays on my music player today i wished singing out loud suddenly in public places(buses) wasnt considered off kilter i wanted to sing along with paula cole about how my baby's got me feelin love
i love how the view is the same but not the houses some grand some not the lives our bus passes by
i love the hour bus ride
i hope i always get a seat.get through my daily playlist. crane my head sideways the whole way to see the outside as i sit in the inside of the bus

I want your hands

I want your hands
Your fingers to messy themselves in the dark tangles of my hair
I want your hands
Your fingers to chart territory on the compass of my body
I want your hands
Your fingers to fit with mine
Like
Key
To
Lock

choice

i pleaded God to give me my object choice
God said:my greatest gift to Mankind is free will
that was the end of it

them

She butchers tropical fruits
Cuts her own hair.
Seen and done too many things

He sits like a girl at times
Crossing legs
Yet she is rendered limp when he moves his mouth