Some porn suggested, that I should give in to my desires…. I desire a higher purpose than merely being alive. My life matters! My death matters! What matters most Is the Fermi Paradox….
Author Archives: Eugene Hardy
Old soldiers shouldn’t die in bed, a poem.
They say old soldiers die hard in bed, having no wars to fight. That seems silly, When all I see is war. Old soldiers, if you still have a heart, be still and listen…. it beats with sounds drums! Then….march….
I need a drink….
….but the wells are turquoise green.All the liquor is gone. Fallen buildings and crater,exposed sewage andanimal sounds,I can’t sleep here. Conversing crows lookdown upon me.
Every Day, a poem.
Sometimes, I trully wished that I was assembled. To smile knowing I’m disposeable and not be missed when I am gone. Of course, I remember my roots. Black people can’t be judges some think, because they should only be dish washers and athletes. My my, that’s the home of brave. But when I literally shedContinue reading “Every Day, a poem.”
Learning Curve, a poem.
I’ve seen people wondering the streets. A man, yelling it was the end of the world. I would not have noticed him hadn’t he had a huge dong, fully erect. I met a good friend from elementary school. It was great to see him, until he pulled out a .22 and robbed me. I wonderContinue reading “Learning Curve, a poem.”
Faster than light, a poem.
I ran and ran, but couldn’t catch him. He dwindled, his form growing smaller. Did he run from me because my fire and love were just too much? Or was it my B.O.? Was it too light or did it kill his nose? Next time, I’ll be faster than light.
03.07.2022
On the West’s Response to the Russian invasion of Ukraine I have a question: is it wrong to fight tyranny? I think how the West has treated Russia’s invasion of Ukraine as – weak. That is, issuing sanctions, but still buying Russian oil? You don’t continue to feed the war machine you’re trying to stopContinue reading “03.07.2022”
03.04.2022
I can not speak for another human being, I can only speak for myself. I’m nearly always sad seeing someone homeless, or emotionally disturbed. Not just about their human condition, but also my own. I’m always plagued by the thought “why doesn’t someone help them out?” Then of course I how I can help. ToContinue reading “03.04.2022”
Missing balls, a poem.
Howdy, I’m the American male. And I’m missing parts of me. My balls went missing when civil rights protesters marched. I thought they were right, but I needed to get home before the game started. I work for a company that has a lot of women employees, but none of them are upper management. IContinue reading “Missing balls, a poem.”
Don’t blink, a poem
leaves changing their colors again but I haven’t moved. My feet have sunken into ground, My teeth turned brown with rot. I only closed my eyes for a moment, now everything under the sun is old.
Liferaft in the Abyss 