Boy Renaissance

01/09/2025

09/04/2025

This Friday .easy_poetry

27/01/2025

"Untitleable"

(Final image generated by AI)
(Music: quiet by this will destroy you)

***r ***rart ***rartist

27/01/2025

"Untitleable"

(Final image generated by AI)
(MUSIC: Quiet by This Will Destroy You)

***r ***rart

27/01/2025

I've gathered enough opinions about my body
From the pitchfork folk
To build a mural
That stretches wide as Berlin.

I stretch out my arms
Trying to be the bigger person,
While feeling like something
Trying not to be prey.

I'm sorry,
I can't try to understand your hate anymore.
Not today,
While my house is falling apart
And I have to think about sleeping in the closet again,
At the very least for a moment of privacy,
Away from the guillotine eye of the public.

Someone got the memo we were being demolished and they're throwing a bulldoze party right here in our living room,

And I feel, again, the thing I thought I was free of:

That once again I have to occupy in protest the space that was always mine,

That once again I have to hold onto the shrapnelled walls of our shelter,
And sit in the ash of grieving a picture of humanity that I believed to be far more compassionate,

To look to my comrades
And remember again
The falling temple,
The lashings,
The resurrection,
The colourful unconquerable soul.

05/10/2024

BURDEN OF PROOF
(new poem draft 1 for all the adhders out there)

this little yellow pill’s a ship full of tiny pirates.
i wave them over and offer them a place
to bury their many gold coins
find a hole in this brain to pour it into,
fill up the cracks make this place feel richer
and a little more whole .

i peel back another piece of plastic, hold
the ni****ne gum between my gums and my teeth,
take another cold sip of fast coffee
and now i’m a little more level.

i don’t have any addictions, i’m totally
level, just ADHD, just a little hide and go seek
with a crowd of lost kids called dopamine.

i’m not very good at hide and seek, i have to say,
i stare at tiktok for two hours straight hoping i’ll find them.
ha.

the little pirates set up shop for the day,
sometimes the night, they’re pretty
good at making lost connections, mapping it all out,
people say medication is a villain like its more noble
to smile and watch myself fall apart with my thumbs up,
‘all good guys’, i’d say, my days aren’t 24 hours long, just a few
20 minute snapshots
inbetween the bouts of fog.

i thought about davy jones when i walked on the beach in cape town
the fog almost had a face, like it was a scary beautiful trip.
i wondered how demonic the weather felt before they realised it was weather.

the atheist on tiktok says the burden of proof is on the christian.
i take a vyvanse and feel the burden on me slowly lift.
i can think full thoughts, and no longer need to prove
that i’m a full human being, I can listen
to some shmo tell me i’m a slave to big pharma
and change the channel, clean out the fridge, and remember
my appointment,
mostly, i mean at least
remember to set a reminder to remember
my appointment --

this trust in doctors thing isn’t all bad, hey
i mean they did OD me on prednisone once but f**k that guy,
google review him and move on,
i have a crew of tiny little pirates now,
they’re not so bad once you get to know them.
they show me the ropes.

I can make my own connections now, like how far i’ve come,
I can map out my life into a picture of confidence (take that, fog),
I can have conversations with myself and say things like
‘I have nothing to prove’.

I can do the dishes and think ‘i don’t know about this
god thing, but i’m sure god knows about this me thing
and I have nothing to prove’,
and move on.

-----------------
I'm enjoying posting poems again. It's getting me into writing more, and cause you guys responded so well to me digging up my old poem about the soul, I thought I'd share some rough and ready pieces with you as I go. I just wrote this draft this morning. The style is inspired by Ocean Vuong. If you don't know him, check him out. Here's to all the ADHDers out there trying to find their way.

02/10/2024

THE SOUL TOLD ME

The soul told me to let her trickle in;
to let her timbre wax into the room
like a moon filling up the empty space of itself,

to let her eyes be beautiful,
and let her laugh be her laugh --
not the tearing polaroid that sends
me smalling myself
to hide from how quickly
happiness comes apart.

The soul told me to, in stillness, let disquiet be there.
Soften into the pain
and let it teach you where you are unbalanced,

where a simple hand can push you over,
where your skin is coming loose,
where your bones are creaking.

The soul told me
to take the blanket and candle up
and once more find a beach,

told me that the newspaper she longs to read
with you in bed
won't throw itself through your window;

it is bought
and the chicory is made by hand,
with boiling water waited for
and a mug washed,
carried into the room by hands that
write the story of the heart.

There are three types of adventure:

The one you'll always long for
to take you from your life,

the one you can choose to have every day were it not for your incessant self-suppession,

and the one you're having this second:

The soul brought me here --
to this threshold I've longed for
and deigned to embrace.

Allow me, mind heart body to be here
in the greatest truth
you can allow --

the truth of my own deepest character as I am now.

---------------
(I found this poem while I was looking through my old photos. Written in 2020. Glad I've dug it up

19/02/2024

Photo by Jacob Sosnowski
My latest feature at with

10/12/2023