Polymathy Confuses People Just As Much As, If Not More Than, Polyamory

Leonardo da Vinci's self-portrait
Image by MAMJODH / CC BY

I’ve Been Poly My Whole Life — Polymathic

I’m different than a lot of other polyamorous educators because I haven’t been polyamorous my whole life. In fact, polyamory wasn’t even something I seriously considered until I was in my late 20s. Before then, I hadn’t even heard of the word. And I couldn’t fathom how non-monogamous relationships could be conducted in a way that was respectful and mutually beneficial for everyone involved.  » Read more

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Passing Through

I woke in the morning freezing and shut off the first alarm, my alarm, cuing Skyspook’s normal battery of snoozes.

It had flooded into my mind moments before I opened my eyelids as I shivered and stretched my legs. I’d been dreaming that I’d undergone brain surgery to rid me of my anxiety (a bit more pronounced lately since I’m graduating soon and entering a new phase where things are uncertain),  » Read more

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Time Capsule

Being confronted with your past self is quite an eerie experience.

Many of my close friends know that my email inbox is a nightmare, completely bloated with old messages, because I never erase or even read anything that isn’t directly sent to me or looks somewhat interesting to me at any given time.  » Read more

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On Obscurantism

I was cruising through some old chat logs for a romantic trip down memory lane and came across myself explaining to Skyspook about my personal views on language:

 

Conversation with skyspook at 5/11/2011 on irc:

(2:50:32 PM) page: I wanted to say it without saying it
(2:50:44 PM) page: that’s how poetry is,  » Read more

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That Voodoo That We Do So Well

I had a professor back in the day who used to say, “The poetry isn’t in the words. It’s everything in between the words.” And I believe poetry is what happens inside the reader as a result of the piece.

Poetry is the finesse, the connotations we derive, the emotional and intellectual resonance that results from the words that are read or spoken.  » Read more

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Charmed Life

These are a few of the poems I wrote about adjusting to moving out here. I think they’re pretty self-explanatory:

Suburbia

Little neighbor girl as I take
out the recycling:  “Hello.
I like your high heels.”

All of seven, she darts away,
but I stay, frozen at the curb.  » Read more

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