to Hive being
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What is Hive Being, and Why the Name?
You have likely heard talk of a hive mind, where one global mind finds more or less figurative expression in various local minds. Such talk is common enough in nature documentaries, especially ones concerning ants or bees, and in sci-fi programs. Take that notion, at least a loose version of it, and broaden its scope. That will be a decent first step in understanding the title I have chosen both for my Blog and for the first five-volume installment of my magnum opus Made For You and Me, a fragmentary collection of minimalist stanzas from 2016 to 2020.
In alignment with Spinoza (the 17th Century Rationalist to whom I devoted my doctoral studies), I view reality in its totality as a grand hive Being: all entities are but pulsating manifestations of the buckstopping fount of everything, an ultimate being we might call “God” or “Nature” (so long as, out of respect for the capital “G” and the capital “N,” we limit it neither to some anthropomorphic cloud father hurling lightning bolts nor to mere wilderness untouched by human smog). According to the hive-Being view (where reality is one lone superorganism, a monistic—and we might even say unividualist—conception I defend in both my creative and academic capacities), each non-foundational being (each being, that is, whose essence does not involve existence) is an utterly necessitated expression or eruption or exudation of this eternal source—each is, perhaps better put, a mode or manner of being, and so a focal point through which is disclosed, what classical theists sometimes call “being itself” (ipsum esse subsistens): the realness of the real, the being of whatever may be, the sheer activity of being, the very isness of whatever is. This Blog, which duplicates my Substack, throbs as but one among many literary unfurlings of this self-necessitated foundation, this supreme wellspring, of which we—like black holes and broken beliefs, like fractal ferns and flickering flames—are the inevitable stylings.
My Journey
I am an academic who found himself pressured into early retirement by the rising tides of cancel culture. The illiberal scourge of censoring, silencing, and shaming—although always with us throughout our evolution—reached a local peak around 2021. That was the turbulent year my creative pursuits, which the old left once encouraged as a healthy outlet for the stresses of a childhood steeped in poverty and illiteracy, drew the ire of the new safe-space left. A small cadre of self-proclaimed victims and their allies, several of whom continue to berate me years later under pseudonyms as see through as their sexual infatuation, sought to erase me and my heterodoxy. They found support from a wannabe-woke dean, covered in the grand inquisitor robes of our decadent modernity (full-body tattoos) and just itching to signal his commitment to protecting “vulnerable populations” from triggering material (even if just, as it was in my case, off-duty poems “unbecoming for someone calling himself a teacher”). Although I eventually won my due-process case with the help of The Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, I slunk away from a college that turned its back on protecting freedom of expression and from an institution increasingly intolerant of intellectual diversity.
The wrecking ball to my too-comfy office in the windowless ivory tower came with a silver lining. From the ashes of my professional aspirations rose a phoenix of increased freedom to fulfill the literary calling I have pursued for decades. Reputation concerns never stopped me, even within academia’s sterile halls of conformity. Indeed, my unapologetic defiance, which has long baffled friends and family, no doubt chummed even safe waters—almost as if I were asking for it all along—until the cancel shiver grew too frenzied to hold back its blind thrashings. But now, now I piston the most forbidden territories of human thought with no longer even a twinge of conscience. The newfound freedom means extra time to hone my craft. When not assisting special-needs communities (a day job far more rewarding than freeway-flyer drudgeries), I pursue my literary mission with Dionysian fervor.
Call for Co-Conspirators
This space, my digital sanctuary, showcases the fruits of my mission. Think of my posts, even those linking to my publications, as works in progress. I want your input, unflinching brutality included. Each post begins with an invitation to action: “Let’s workshop this [draft about x, y, z].” Your contributions, whether through public comments or my contact page, help hammer scraps of ore into polished blades fit for magazine publication.
Your input is valuable, even if you are neither a writer nor a reader of literature—twin disciplines dying by the cyber nanosecond. Sometimes—even if at the risk of uttering banalities—an outsider’s fresh vantage can pierce the veils of convention to reveal what insiders miss. It often takes an outsider to make us even think to question our ingrained presuppositions and attitudes. I stand by the hygienic value of contagion. That is one reason I advocate so strongly for intellectual diversity and freedom of expression. And that is also one reason I was so harrowed by the anti-diversity swell of cancel culture in academia (an institution that should be the utmost caretaker of such values)—harrowed especially insofar as that swell masqueraded under the gaslighting guise of “diversity”).
You will witness the breathing evolution of my writings over time. To track these changes, I label each revision by round: “ROUND 2,” ROUND 3,” and so forth. Each piece undergoes continuous refinement based on your feedback and my own revisitations. Sometimes changes will mar the work. That is the risk of creative tinkering as a finite creature. I hope you will alert me to missteps. After many semesters of university writing workshops, one rule has impressed itself upon me: when someone senses a flaw, something almost always needs to change—even if, yes, the proposed solution misses the mark (which often it does). From a quick look into the archives, accessible here, you can see how much I have benefited from your feedback so far.
My Hope
Sharing drafts can be daunting. But showing you the ravaged and unperfumed real deal unfiltered by makeup (stuttering starts and falsities, awkward line breaks and clumsy word choices, grammatical errors and misspellings)—that not only makes my work more relatable, but helps me refine things through your input. I hope the unfiltered look at the raw process of fumbling, rather than just the polished product, also helps other writers develop their craft. Imperfect works often instruct more than perfect ones: whereas the perfect ones tend to have a grace by which they slip inside us without activating our scrutiny, the imperfect ones—especially the near perfect ones—show us glaringly what not to do.
People laugh at me, seeing—in my tilting at the windmills of literary excellence—a Don Quixote clunking around in Arthurian armor in a post-knight era. I am not naïve. I am well aware of the diminishing ability to read, let alone well: slowly and deeply, with gratitude. I am also aware that my style, which often nests subpoints within larger points, never waters down virtuosity for the sake of mass appeal. I watch readers stumble over my sentences, unable to unlock even just the music of the envelope let alone the semantic meat within, which—given my tendency to flashlight through the darker facets of human nature (the addicts, the miscreants, the abusers among us)—only adds an additional alienating layer of difficulty). Beholding these depressive scenes of even supportive family members getting bucked off my syntactic bronco makes me feel like a dinosaur who should get a hint and, if not succumb to the brain rot of skibidi-toilet speak, just hang himself already. Even though the decline in linguistic background and grammatical voltage makes my compositions seem quixotic in a world binging Netflix and TikTok, I persist—raging against the dying of the light—by some internal compulsion to celebrate the richness of language and thought.
My hope is that, despite social media’s unparalleled power to farm our attention, people never forget the unique power of writing. Beyond unveiling hypocrisy, teasing out complex implications, and detailing the commonalities between even the most alien phenomena, writing offers something we need today—trapped in agoraphobic cyber bubbles only thickened by the Lyme dangers of forests and the COVID dangers of cities—perhaps more than ever. Granting us rich access to the first-person perspectives of others (to how things feel to them), writing serves as one of humanity’s best tools for combating loneliness. It allows us to linger, broadly and deeply and at high resolution, within the inner lives of others in a way that other arts can only suggest.
What to Expect
My work spans a broad spectrum: from metaphysical discourses on free will and determinism and the ontology of holes to the ephemera of western culture (whether the childhood impacts of the hypersexual mono-image of black woman as squirting twerkers or Terrence Howard’s sham revolution of mathematics). Some tight and minimal, others free-flowing sprawls; some heady and abstract, others emotional and imagistic—my inkwell musings, which often blend scholarly rigor with a dark humor from both high and low culture, aim to capture the visceral intensity of our personal and social and ultimately existential predicaments.
By no means can I deny that drug abuse, sexual assault, and the tales of the broken and the damned loom large in the tag cloud of my work. My writing will never be a paradise of easy truths and comforting lies. It will challenge you, provoke you, and at times even repulse you. I offer no apologies for the monsters I unleash. They are as much a part of us, at long root scared rodent mammals scurrying in the shadows of dinosaurs, as our noblest aspirations.
But make no mistake. It is not all downer darkness. The archives are my receipts. You will find pieces exploring the pursuit of authenticity in a media-saturated world, the search for meaning in an indifferent cosmos, and the celebration of beauty in both the sublime and the profane. I locate much of my inspiration, in fact, in novelists like Dostoevsky and poets like Ted Kooser—writers unafraid to pursue moral agendas or risk Hallmark sentimentality in an age that often sneers at sincerity.
Be they satirical dissections of modern social dynamics or poignant poems about addiction or academic articles on moral responsibility, my goal is to provoke thought, evoke emotion, and foster meaningful dialogue. Fear has not and will not stop me from challenging humanity’s fundamental taboos (like bestiality and cannibalism) or self-reflecting into the dark chaos of the subconscious, even if that means exposing the Jungian shadows—the inner Goebbels—lurking within us all!
Expect posts each day, no day missed. Donations are welcome, but I impose no paywall: it feels wrong to charge for art, especially given our date with obliteration. Feel free to explore what amounts to, at the time of writing this, close to a thousand pieces of poetry and prose here. That should give you a sense of what awaits.
Join me—specula holstered—on this literary odyssey into the public and private nooks of the hive Being. Let us navigate the labyrinth of creation together, confronting our demons and even slaying our darlings if we must. Let us dance on the razor’s edge between the sublime and the profane in pursuit of an elusive literary perfection never to be confused—as it has been confused in our declining civilization—with the pursuit of popularity or likeability over truth.
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Posts
MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017--part 43)
In this collection of fragmentary thoughts, "You Had to Have Jordans in School" reflects a chorus of voices entangled with loss, identity, and human fallibility. The fragments carry a raw immediacy, and their scope ranges from childhood insecurities to adult struggles with addiction, societal expectations, and existential dread. A recurring theme is how the human psyche navigates the tension between desire and restraint, often through complex mechanisms of projection, repression, and rationalization. By interweaving these distinct but connected vignettes, the piece crafts an overarching narrative on the ways we handle the pains and pressures that accumulate over a lifetime.
Many fragments examine compulsive or destructive behaviors as mechanisms of coping or identity reinforcement, from self-destructive relationships and addictions to a mother's internalized shame projected onto her daughter. This psychological mirroring is vividly encapsulated in lines like “estranged from friends and employment, what more reliable comfort for the troubles—even if ushered in by the drug—than the drug itself?” Here, the addiction itself becomes both the cause and the cure of alienation, illustrating the cyclical nature of dependence and the craving for relief within a state of deprivation.
Several of the fragments speak to the need for validation and belonging. The impulse to maintain appearances, avoid confrontation, or adopt a group identity despite personal ambivalence is shown through lines like “he alienates others to prove his alienation,” or the sardonic depiction of a funeral as “the only time they could all get along, but even here only if it had been one of them dead.” This ironic observation implies a pervasive struggle to achieve genuine connection in a culture that often prioritizes performance or decorum over authenticity, whether through social façades or token gestures of solidarity.
The work also delves into taboo topics, using the body and the senses as vehicles for vulnerability and disillusionment. Images of compulsive behaviors and existential reckoning—such as a mother’s desperation to shield her daughter from perceived moral peril or the fearful hesitation before an AIDS test—reveal the darker facets of intimacy, where love, shame, and duty intertwine uncomfortably. The text suggests that these internal conflicts are universally experienced but often publicly suppressed, amplifying the isolation and pain they cause.
Finally, the piece employs ritualistic imagery to hint at how humans seek control over the chaotic aspects of life. Rituals are invoked as means to placate fears, as seen in phrases like “conjure into reality, through ritual, what you are afraid about: cancer stress, repulsive jealousy, or so on,” evoking an almost primal need to stave off misfortune or catastrophe. By framing rituals as grounded in psychological necessity, the text juxtaposes them with fleeting, artificial consolations like drugs, highlighting the human tendency to seek grounding in a reality that often feels as fragile as the rituals themselves.
identity, addiction, repression, human frailty, ritual, psychological conflict, coping mechanisms, societal expectations, existential dread, compulsive behavior, isolation, cultural pressures, vulnerability, belonging, taboo
With Her Jaw Still Wired Shut
With Her Jaw Still Wired Shut presents a psychologically rich and unsettling exploration of power, predation, and familial misunderstanding. At its core, the poem delves into the tragic dynamics of a mother-son relationship, where maternal intuition collides with darker instincts within her son. The title itself, invoking the image of a jaw wired shut, suggests the aftermath of violence or trauma, perhaps even a long-standing silence or inability to communicate openly. This physical restraint may symbolize both the literal inability to speak and the figurative suppression of the truths lying beneath the surface of their relationship.
The poem begins with the mother’s belief that she has detected a crack in her son’s seemingly impenetrable facade—a “don’t-fuck-with-me slouch.” Her intuition, however, is guided by a wishful radar, hinting at her desire to connect with him emotionally, despite the warning signs. This "radar" suggests a heightened maternal sensitivity, attuned to her son's emotional needs, but here it is tragically misguided. She perceives the possibility of vulnerability in her son, a need for care that compels her to move closer, attempting to bridge the gap between them.
However, her approach—driven by love and concern—proves to be fatal in more ways than one. The moment of violence, when "a pen pierced her temple as she leaned in," represents not only a literal attack but also a symbolic rebuff of her emotional overture. The pen, typically an instrument of communication, becomes a weapon that severs rather than connects. This act of violence is a rejection of her attempt to provide comfort or contact. The son's reaction reveals a deeper, darker truth about his internal world—one where predatory instincts take precedence over vulnerability or emotional connection. The use of the pen also symbolizes the son's attempt to write his own narrative of control, with violence as the ink that marks his boundary.
The metaphor of the "sated-lion warmth" within the son is crucial to understanding the predator-prey dynamic at play. While the mother’s instinct was to provide nurture and empathy, the son’s inner state is aligned with that of a predator who has successfully made his kill. The "purring" warmth inside him is not one of relief or comfort but of satisfaction from having asserted his dominance. This predatory satisfaction suggests that he has achieved a kind of victory, having neutralized what he perceives as a threat—his mother's emotional closeness. The use of animal imagery reinforces this dynamic: the son as a lion, sated after a kill, and the mother as prey who has misjudged her place in this primal hierarchy.
The tragic irony of the poem lies in the mother’s conviction that she was "correct" in her intuition about her son’s emotional needs. She is indeed correct in sensing that he needed something, but what he required was not the emotional comfort she sought to provide. Rather, he needed the assertion of his predatory instincts, a reestablishment of control, and the satisfaction of his darker, more violent impulses. The poem’s final lines, where the mother’s inability to feel "that sated-lion warmth" blinds her to the true nature of their exchange, underscores the tragedy. She is correct in one sense, but she has failed to recognize the full complexity of his emotional state, particularly the dangerous undercurrents of his predatory desires.
The poem explores themes of violence, miscommunication, and the darker instincts that can lie beneath familial relationships. The mother’s compassion and desire for emotional connection are pitted against the son’s need for control, which manifests through violence. This tension between nurture and dominance, between maternal care and predatory assertion, forms the crux of the poem. In its final analysis, With Her Jaw Still Wired Shut serves as a meditation on the ways in which familial love can be tragically misdirected, especially when darker, unspoken needs and instincts are at play. The poem’s exploration of power dynamics within the family highlights the painful reality that not all emotional needs are met with compassion—sometimes, they are met with violence.
predatory instincts, familial violence, mother-son relationship, power dynamics, miscommunication, maternal compassion, emotional dominance, predator-prey dynamic, animal imagery, tragedy of misreading, familial conflict.
MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017--part 42)
This compilation of fragmented musings and observations draws upon various aspects of contemporary life, touching on the human condition, societal values, and the often absurd or grotesque ways we confront mortality, identity, and interpersonal relationships. Each vignette, while brief, offers a glimpse into a range of experiences, from addiction and self-destruction to social and existential commentary. The poems move between personal and collective reflections, revealing the complexities of human psychology, the tensions between societal expectations, and the inner workings of individuals who struggle with the realities of existence.
The recurring motif of addiction, both in its literal and metaphorical forms, is one of the central themes of the piece. Addiction is not limited to substances but extends to self-perception, identity formation, and the ways we navigate societal roles. Lines such as "no longer able to tell herself with any shred of persuasion that she can quit" illustrate the overwhelming sense of inevitability in the face of addiction's grip. There is also a clear critique of societal norms and institutions, as seen in references to "self-help books" and "curated digital identities," pointing to the artificiality and performance required to maintain a semblance of order in chaotic lives.
The use of humor and irony throughout the text serves as a coping mechanism, a way to mitigate the harshness of the observations made. For instance, the line about "organic panhandler conventions under night overpasses" reflects a satirical take on identity politics and societal shifts in discourse around gender and social justice. Similarly, the commentary on religion and belief, such as the claim that a "God who prioritizes belief over good deeds is a false god," underlines the inherent contradictions in certain theological or ideological stances. The poems oscillate between bleak existential truths and moments of dark humor, reflecting a nuanced understanding of both despair and resilience.
Themes of isolation and connection also pervade the work. The desire for belonging, whether in familial relationships, romantic partnerships, or within societal constructs, is palpable. Yet, the poems frequently reveal the fragility and failure of these connections, emphasizing the alienation that accompanies modern life. The “boredom displayed by a child,” or the laughter at "pathetic lunges at significance," points to an overarching sense of disillusionment and the search for meaning in a world that offers no easy answers.
Ultimately, this compilation of insights reflects on the contradictions and complexities of human experience. It exposes the insecurities, addictions, and absurdities of life, while also acknowledging the yearning for connection, meaning, and significance. In its fragmented and often disjointed form, the text mirrors the disarray of the lives it portrays, leaving the reader with a sense of both unease and recognition.
addiction, societal norms, alienation, existentialism, identity formation, human condition, satire, dark humor, religion, self-deception, modern life, isolation, interpersonal relationships, addiction recovery, societal critique.
MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017--part 41)
The poem presents a vivid kaleidoscope of modern societal contradictions, emotional dissonance, and the conflicts between individual identity and communal expectations. Themes such as race, performance, addiction, and the human desire for permanence or stability are skillfully interwoven into seemingly fragmented but symbolically rich scenarios. The poem draws attention to the complex and often paradoxical relationships individuals have with societal structures, social media, and themselves.
The line "united in that we are shrieking" sets the tone for the entire poem: we are bound not by shared experiences or values, but by the intensity of our individual outcries, manifesting as a collective existential scream. From this framework, the subsequent lines explore how personal crises and social performativity entwine with identity and power dynamics. The reference to Veruca-Salt types highlights how false accusations can carry racial connotations, alluding to historical and racial tensions surrounding white women accusing black men of crimes they did not commit, an implicit critique of racial and gendered power imbalances.
The poem then shifts to the theme of identity construction through external validation and perception. The juxtaposition between personal self-grooming before an interview and the absurd extremes of celebrity cosmetic surgeries illustrates the fragility of self-perception in the face of societal pressures. The idea that social media breaks, themselves performative acts, become exaggerated as forms of integrity, underscores the tension between authenticity and the demands of public persona.
Further, the exploration of addiction is portrayed through the metaphor of superposition—mirroring quantum states where an addict balances between functional and dysfunctional behaviors until observed, which collapses these possibilities into a singular, tragic outcome. The reference to "slam poetry performances of charlatan Afrocentrism" critiques how certain movements that seek to resist white supremacy can become commodified, using easy slogans and hollow rhetoric to appeal to audiences rather than truly challenge systemic issues.
The depiction of the shopping-cart man suggests the blurred line between reality and performance in the lives of those on the margins of society. Similarly, the imagery of police shielding a black person's head as they arrest them juxtaposes a moment of humanity against the broader context of systemic violence, forcing readers to confront the contradictions of power.
In one of the most intimate moments of the poem, the parental figure attending their daughter's ballet recital for the first time wrestles with the realization that personal milestones are often overshadowed by the transactional demands of professional life. The poem thus captures a universal struggle between individual fulfillment and the broader societal expectations that threaten to strip it away.
Through a critique of race, class, performance, addiction, and identity, this piece deconstructs the myriad ways people construct, perform, and navigate their lives, often at the intersection of private desires and public roles.
identity performance, societal contradictions, addiction superposition, racial tensions, social media performativity, power dynamics, slam poetry critique, quantum metaphor, parental roles, systemic critique, individual fulfillment
MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017--part 40)
This fragmentary text presents a surreal and incisive critique of modern society's intersections between banality and horror. By opening with "taxidermist and painter, freeze-framing a facsimile of life," the imagery draws attention to the ways in which we attempt to capture and preserve life, art, and meaning, only to reduce them to static representations. This opening metaphor can be understood as a comment on the desire to hold onto fleeting moments or create permanence in an impermanent world, a theme that reverberates throughout the piece.
As the text moves into absurd and jarring territory—"puppy Prozac," "oversold syndromes," "parental locks and boobytraps on graves to stop necrophilic pedophilia"—it emphasizes the surreal overreactions and moral panics that permeate societal discourse. These moments seem to mock the way we inflate our fears and commodify suffering, whether it be through the over-medication of pets or exaggerated concerns over posthumous violations. There is a recurring theme of commodification and oversaturation, particularly in "her channel really just an infomercial slicker for the modern age," suggesting that even in areas that demand authenticity, such as personal expression, we are manipulated into a consumerist feedback loop.
The critique deepens with the satirical treatment of social and political discourse. Lines like "in the kneejerk from Trump, nonwhite 'truth' becomes sanctified" and "the YouTube did not really detect notes of oak and ylang-ylang" play with the way identity and authenticity are often co-opted or exaggerated for political or commercial gain. In particular, the text points out the insulation of certain narratives from critique, a trend amplified by the platforms that propagate them. This insulation, however, leads not to deeper understanding, but to superficial validation of particular identities or ideas.
The piece also explores personal and societal relationships with trauma and taboo, frequently veering into darker territory. "Withdrawing consent during the final strokes" and "biting the baby’s leg through the padding of lips" suggest boundary-pushing imagery that calls into question the nature of consent and control, both bodily and ideologically. The suggestion that certain behaviors, even in their innocence or intimacy, mask a deeper violence speaks to the fragility of trust and the complexity of human interaction.
The text is further marked by a preoccupation with existential crises and the passage of time. The motif of reflection on past moments—"memories no longer too powerful to write about," "funeral homes steel reinforced for obese corpses," "courtships born from horror"—highlights the way time dulls even the sharpest traumas. Yet, the imagery implies that society has built both physical and mental fortresses to contain these traumas, reinforcing the theme of artificial preservation.
In sum, this piece functions as a dense tapestry of societal, political, and existential critique. Through fragmented, surreal imagery, it interrogates modern responses to trauma, identity, consumerism, and authenticity, all while maintaining a sardonic tone that refuses to let the reader settle into comfort or complacency.
commodification, trauma, authenticity, consumerism, surrealism, societal critique, political discourse, existential reflection, identity politics, moral panic.
MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017--part 39)
This poem presents a layered meditation on the collapse of personal and societal safeguards against existential and environmental decay. The title phrase, "that vinegar band of brevity where the safe word has no efficacy," immediately signals a situation where traditional mechanisms of protection, communication, and control break down. The metaphorical use of a safe word, often a tool of consent and boundary, is rendered powerless here, suggesting a world in which the boundaries between comfort and danger, self-preservation and destruction, are no longer maintained. This is a theme that resonates throughout the poem, which oscillates between deeply personal and grander societal reflections.
One of the most powerful images, "your father’s clothes there in the corner, double-bagged still from the hospital," evokes the stark reality of loss, the impersonal handling of death, and the attempt to distance oneself from grief through sterile containment. The use of “double-bagged” connotes both the literal precautionary handling of contaminated objects and a symbolic gesture to quarantine the overwhelming emotions surrounding death. This suggests a societal tendency to compartmentalize trauma, to sanitize grief rather than confront it.
In contrast, the image of “wild horses grazing upon radiation hidden inside familiar green” brings a startling clash between the natural and the artificial. The horses, symbols of freedom and untamed nature, now feed unknowingly on poisoned land, their innocence marred by the invisible dangers of human technology. This juxtaposition echoes a broader critique of environmental destruction masked by superficial normalcy, highlighting the ways in which the effects of industrialization and technological advancement seep unnoticed into the natural world.
The poem then veers into reflections on societal anesthesia through images like “techno hypnosis in Japanese pachinko parlors,” a reference to addictive, mind-numbing entertainment that distracts from existential threats. These lines suggest a critique of the contemporary tendency to avoid reality, drowning out real dangers with immersive, trivial distractions. Similarly, the question, “How would we act if we began each day with a funeral?” is a rhetorical challenge, urging the reader to consider the weight of mortality and the collective failure to confront it in a meaningful way. By living as if death and decay are distant abstractions, society avoids responsibility for its own decline.
Further, the poem addresses generational culpability, questioning why past generations did not act to "stop the horror," a reference perhaps to environmental degradation, systemic violence, or societal corruption. The silence of older generations is framed as complicity, and the poem portrays this neglect as an ongoing source of suffering for future generations. In the midst of these existential musings, the figure of the "bum king" hollering “Mush!” at his strays stands as an emblem of desperation and the crumbling of order, symbolizing how even those at society's fringes attempt to assert control in a world slipping into chaos.
At its core, the poem engages with themes of powerlessness, the futility of human structures against the forces of time and entropy, and the existential loneliness that accompanies the gradual realization of this powerlessness. It is a work that critiques the denial of uncomfortable truths—whether personal (grief, familial loss) or societal (environmental collapse, cultural anesthesia)—and challenges the reader to confront what has been systematically avoided.
existentialism, grief, societal collapse, environmental decay, powerlessness, control, modern distractions, generational guilt, human vulnerability, technological sedation.
MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017--part 38)
This work presents a fragmented reflection on the darker undercurrents of human experience, focusing on trauma, repression, and the blurred boundaries between innocence and corruption. The imagery is visceral and often unsettling, blending the banal with the grotesque to evoke the ways in which trauma and desire coexist beneath the surface of everyday life. Themes of childhood innocence—juxtaposed against adult sexual desire—are explored through imagery that collapses the distance between pure curiosity and exploitation. For example, the toddler’s innocence is tainted by the presence of a molester, and a playful carousel ride morphs into a symbol of lurking, predatory intent. Such images suggest that the line between innocence and corruption is precarious, and that society’s attempts to uphold these distinctions are fragile at best.
From a psychoanalytic perspective, the poem can be interpreted as a meditation on the return of the repressed. The grotesque acts and desires mentioned—such as the molester’s exploitation of a toddler or the autistic child digging into their own flesh—seem to surface as manifestations of latent, unspoken traumas. Freud’s theory of the unconscious, particularly his idea that repressed desires and fears manifest in unexpected and often disturbing ways, can be applied to this text. The work’s refusal to provide a clear narrative mirrors the disjointed nature of traumatic memory, which often resurfaces in fragments, disassociated from linear time. The text’s seemingly unrelated vignettes of disturbing experiences highlight this fragmentation, suggesting that trauma and repression are not easily contained or processed within the bounds of conventional language or narrative.
Additionally, the poem addresses how language and cultural symbols both expose and obscure human experiences of desire and trauma. The image of a child gripping a carousel pole, sticky from cotton candy, is particularly striking in how it conflates innocence with impending danger. Carnivals and carousels, often symbols of childhood joy, are here tinged with a darker sexual undercurrent, pointing to the intrusion of adult knowledge and predatory impulses into the realm of childhood. This collapse of boundaries suggests a Freudian reading of the poem’s themes, where the distinctions between childhood innocence and adult desire are unstable, revealing a more troubling, unconscious reality.
Moreover, the poem’s fragmented structure and shifting imagery evoke a post-structuralist critique of how language fails to capture the full complexity of human experience. The work challenges the notion that meaning can be neatly contained within social norms or linguistic structures, particularly when it comes to the taboo or unspeakable aspects of human life. The text implies that societal efforts to categorize or explain human behavior—especially in terms of innocence and guilt, desire and trauma—inevitably fall short. Instead, the poem suggests that these experiences are more fluid, existing in a liminal space where language falters and cultural distinctions break down. This mirrors the psychoanalytic idea that much of human experience exists beyond the reach of conscious articulation, driven by unconscious desires and traumas that resist simple categorization or explanation.
Ultimately, the work grapples with existential questions about the human condition, particularly the tension between what is socially acceptable and what lurks beneath the surface. The recurring theme of unspeakable desires, whether sexual or otherwise, reflects a broader discomfort with the limits of language and societal structures in addressing the more primal aspects of human existence. The poem invites the reader to confront these uncomfortable truths, exposing the fragility of societal norms and the inadequacy of language to fully contain the darker elements of human nature.
This collection of fragmented reflections and images explores profound and often disturbing aspects of human experience, such as trauma, innocence, desire, and the collapse of language as a means to convey these complexities. The fragments embody a modernist approach to poetry, reminiscent of the stream-of-consciousness technique and the fragmented poetics of T.S. Eliot or the late avant-garde. The text juxtaposes ordinary and grotesque moments, oscillating between the innocence of childhood and the disturbing forces that shape it. It reflects on the inability of language, and by extension societal norms, to fully contain or express human experiences, particularly those related to trauma, exploitation, and base desires.
The recurring motif of innocence turned grotesque suggests that trauma is a cyclical and often subliminal force passed from generation to generation. The repeated invocation of childhood innocence—juxtaposed with sexual exploitation and degradation, as seen in lines like “sexual to the molester; pure curiosity to the toddler” or the “five-year-old paid a quarter for quarter entry”—interrogates the vulnerability of the child figure within a morally ambiguous or corrupt world. The grotesque descriptions of physical bodies and behaviors—such as "ass-digging autistic child sniffs his fingers" or "the bed-head beer-drunk flipflops around her trailer park"—further underscore the dissolution of social and moral boundaries. This blurring of the sacred and profane is an exploration of what theorists like Julia Kristeva would refer to as the "abject," elements of human experience that society repels yet remains fascinated by.
The piece also confronts the inadequacies of language and thought to contain or make sense of such experiences. The phrases "aspiring—squirming—for things for which there are no words" and "desire spilling beyond the brim of vocabulary" point to the central dilemma in which language is inadequate to express certain human conditions—particularly those related to trauma, primal desires, or existential dread. In the tradition of post-structuralist thinkers like Derrida, the text suggests that the reality of human experience is mediated through, and often trapped by, language, which both reveals and conceals. Words fail to convey the depth of human suffering, desire, and existential uncertainty, yet they remain the primary vehicle for meaning-making.
Finally, the piece delves into the intergenerational transmission of trauma, particularly through familial structures and cultural norms. Whether in the abusive imagery or in subtler, more existential reflections like "baroque prose covering horrible thoughts in a purple veil," the text suggests that families, social systems, and even language serve as carriers of trauma. In this sense, it aligns with psychoanalytic and post-Freudian critiques of family dynamics, exploring the repressed violence and desires that shape human development. The seemingly innocuous act of childhood play ("the password to the pillow fort") becomes an emblem of how trauma can be encoded in memory, later emerging as "a linguistic knot of innocence and trauma."
This piece uses fragmented imagery and disjointed reflections to explore the intergenerational transmission of trauma, societal repression, and the inadequacies of language to express complex human emotions and desires. It challenges the boundaries between innocence and grotesqueness, sacred and profane, while delving into the subtle ways trauma manifests in everyday life.
trauma, innocence, repression, grotesque, language inadequacy, psychoanalysis, intergenerational trauma, societal norms, abjection, existential dread, linguistic failure
MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017--part 37)
The text is a collage of fragmented thoughts and images that traverse themes of existential angst, morality, human behavior, and the search for meaning in a seemingly indifferent universe. It presents a kaleidoscope of scenarios and reflections that collectively explore the human condition’s darker and more absurd aspects. From “tumbling a toddler in the dryer for a five-count of cruel Mississippis” to “tribesmen puzzle over whites with pocket pussies,” the text juxtaposes violent, unsettling imagery with moments of introspection and philosophical musings. This technique not only shocks the reader into a heightened state of awareness but also invites them to ponder the deeper implications of each line.
The text’s structure mirrors the chaotic and fragmented nature of human consciousness, particularly in the face of existential dread. Lines like “there is life after high school (even if you let your teacher rope you up to his bedpost)” and “suicidal thoughts upon wake up” reflect a raw confrontation with trauma and psychological struggle. Meanwhile, philosophical inquiries such as “if you did not write the novel before retirement, odds are—” and “imagine the weight of consequence if everything really did recur eternally” grapple with the nature of purpose, time, and the significance (or insignificance) of human actions.
The recurring themes of shame, denial, and a yearning for meaning run throughout the text, forming a loose but powerful thread that connects its disparate elements. The piece suggests a world where actions, beliefs, and identities are fluid, often shaped by external pressures and internal conflicts. For example, the lines “ashamed of having the illness” and “disguising your voice, ashamed to call again for helpline reassurance” delve into the human experience of vulnerability and the stigma attached to it. These feelings of inadequacy and the desire to conceal them reveal the fragility of the human psyche when confronted with its limitations.
There is also a distinct exploration of power dynamics and societal norms. The phrase “headcase superpowers injected into mere socks just because you happened to be wearing them on the occasion of what you mistook for success” captures the absurdity of perceived authority or competence based on circumstantial or arbitrary factors. Similarly, “children waking up not knowing what the screams mean” speaks to a fundamental human fear of the unknown and the inherited trauma that shapes our understanding of the world.
The text culminates in reflections on death and the desire for survival, encapsulated in lines such as “death—that plummet to the prebirth blank, to the blackless noncolor a womb sees—spooked her less than the monomania to live.” This juxtaposition of life and death, of nonexistence and the frantic desire to cling to life, underscores the existential tension at the heart of the human experience. The reference to “the casino of cosmic roulette” suggests a universe indifferent to human suffering and ambition, where life and death are merely random occurrences in a vast, unknowable expanse.
Ultimately, the piece presents a bleak yet compelling meditation on existence, filled with moments of dark humor, surreal imagery, and profound insights into the human soul’s complexities. It challenges the reader to confront uncomfortable truths about life, death, and the meaning we impose on both, all while acknowledging the inherent absurdity of these pursuits.
An exploration of existential dread, morality, and human behavior through fragmented, surreal imagery, "tumbling a toddler in the dryer for a five-count of cruel Mississippis" challenges readers to confront uncomfortable truths about life, death, and meaning.
existential angst, morality, human behavior, existential dread, surreal imagery, absurdity, power dynamics, societal norms, philosophical inquiry, trauma, human psyche, life and death, cosmic roulette, vulnerability, shame, denial, dark humor.
Morse Code of Distress
Morse Code of Distress is a concise, evocative poem that captures the turmoil and desperation of a young boy. It highlights his compulsive need to scrape a concealed weapon against the rough textures of the urban environment. This act, set against the twilight backdrop, symbolizes his search for a decisive action that could end his life, a life from which he feels trapped and unable to escape on his own. The poem powerfully conveys themes of distress, compulsion, and the silent cries for help through the boy's actions.
White Supremacy on Its Deathbed
"White Supremacy on Its Deathbed" is a bold and confrontational work that challenges the mainstream antiracist movement and its implications for black empowerment. Through a mix of lyrical prose, scholarly critique, satire, and polemic, the author seeks to expose the paradoxical harms inflicted by well-intentioned but misguided efforts to dismantle white supremacy.
The book argues that the contemporary antiracist movement, exemplified by figures like Robin DiAngelo and Ibram X. Kendi, promotes an ideology that, while purporting to empower black Americans, ultimately infantilizes and debilitates them. This movement, according to the author, fosters a narrative of perpetual victimhood and helplessness among black people, which reinforces negative stereotypes and undermines genuine progress. By insisting on the omnipresence of white supremacy in every aspect of society—from everyday interactions to cultural and intellectual achievements—the antiracist movement inadvertently perpetuates the very divisions it seeks to eliminate.
The author critiques the tendency to attribute all disparities in health, education, and crime to systemic racism, while dismissing the role of personal responsibility and cultural factors. This approach, the book contends, not only demoralizes black individuals by suggesting that their fate is entirely dictated by external forces but also fuels racial tensions by framing white people as inherently oppressive and black people as inherently oppressed.
One of the central theses is that the antiracist movement's focus on symbolic gestures and emotional catharsis, rather than practical solutions, fails to address the root causes of inequality. The book criticizes the movement for promoting a form of racial essentialism that mirrors the very racism it opposes, creating racial affinity groups and encouraging a hyper-awareness of racial identity that can lead to further segregation and mistrust.
The book also delves into the economic and social incentives that drive the racism-training industry. It argues that this industry profits from sensationalizing race issues and fostering a culture of fear and division, thereby ensuring a constant demand for its services. The author suggests that this dynamic not only distracts from substantive policy discussions but also perpetuates a cycle of dependency and resentment.
Throughout the book, the author uses a combination of personal anecdotes, historical analysis, and cultural critique to make the case that the current approach to antiracism is counterproductive. By portraying black Americans as fragile and in need of constant protection, the movement undermines their agency and dignity. The author advocates for a shift towards a more empowering narrative that emphasizes resilience, personal responsibility, and a commitment to universal principles of merit and equality.
In essence, "White Supremacy on Its Deathbed" challenges readers to reconsider the dominant narratives around race and to recognize the complex, often unintended consequences of well-meaning but ultimately flawed antiracist strategies. It calls for a more nuanced and constructive approach to addressing racial disparities, one that respects the individuality and capability of black Americans while fostering genuine dialogue and understanding across racial lines.
An Unopinionated Introduction to Philosophy (Fourth Edition)
"An Unopinionated Introduction to Philosophy" is a groundbreaking textbook designed to cater to the diverse sensitivities and needs of modern students. Celebrated for its pro-student approach, the book seeks to eliminate potential triggers and discomforts that have historically plagued the academic environment.
The textbook, praised for being exceptionally reader-friendly, is seen as a triumph in creating a truly inclusive and protective educational resource. It addresses the historical issue of selective protection in academia, ensuring that all students, regardless of their unique triggers, are shielded from potentially distressing content. Dr. Istvan, the author, emphasizes the necessity of moving beyond exclusionary practices and ensuring comprehensive protection for every student.
One of the central themes of the book is its commitment to removing all forms of distressing content, rather than merely labeling it with trigger warnings. This approach acknowledges the complexity and individuality of student triggers, advocating for a learning environment free from any form of discomfort. The book's inclusion of a bonus chapter on reporting professors highlights its dedication to empowering students to take action against perceived academic injustices.
The book's critics, however, argue that it undercuts traditional academic rigor by prioritizing student comfort over exposure to challenging ideas. Nonetheless, it has received widespread acclaim for its revolutionary approach to education, which places the emotional well-being of students at the forefront.
"An Unopinionated Introduction to Philosophy" also tackles the issue of macro-aggressions, recognizing that even seemingly minor aggressions can have significant impacts on students. By removing potentially harmful content and providing tools for students to report offensive material, the book aims to create a safe and supportive learning environment.
The textbook's success is attributed to its ability to balance the need for academic content with the imperative to protect students from harm. Its innovative approach has been likened to padding the corners of tables to prevent injuries—essentially, it removes the tables altogether to ensure complete safety.
In summary, "An Unopinionated Introduction to Philosophy" represents a significant shift in educational philosophy. It challenges the traditional notion that students must be exposed to uncomfortable ideas to foster learning and growth. Instead, it champions a model of education that prioritizes student safety and comfort, ensuring that all students can engage with philosophical concepts without fear of distress. This book is a testament to the evolving landscape of academia, where inclusivity and protection are paramount.
Istvan Creative Writing Bios
The reader should know, however, that some biographical information regarding early-childhood development might prove relevant here. Istvan grew up in a time and place where most of the people closest to him had something special going for them, a trump card—constantly leaned upon, constantly providing succor, constantly manifested in their swagger, constantly verbalized as an unconscious soothing mechanism to stoke endorphins of gratitude (healing even in the toughest times): the fact that, to cite the slogan so often used in moments grave and gay, “at least I’m not white.”
In That Way
**In That Way** is a vivid, poignant exploration of the fleeting moments of normalcy and hope experienced by a family grappling with addiction. The poem juxtaposes the harsh realities of drug use with the fragile hope of recovery, using powerful imagery and layered symbolism.
The opening lines set a stark scene: "Close to an 8-ball cut into one mother rail / on the jacket of Skynyrd’s Street Survivors / (frayed and faded by a dead father’s life)." The 8-ball, a slang term for a measure of cocaine, introduces the pervasive presence of drugs. The reference to Skynyrd's *Street Survivors* album, particularly one worn and "frayed and faded by a dead father’s life," suggests a legacy of hardship and loss. This album choice is significant; *Street Survivors* was released just days before the band's tragic plane crash, infusing the poem with a sense of foreboding and the shadow of past trauma.
The phrase "in that thinning sliver before / tunnel vision cloisters them again" captures the transient clarity before the drugs' effects take hold. The "kitchen glow" symbolizes a brief return to the familial and familiar, where the boys, "conjoined by mistrust of solo-detour sniffs," hint at the communal nature of their addiction, bound together by both camaraderie and suspicion.
The "Blackhole pupils" are a striking metaphor for the emptiness and allure of drug use, where the "fool’s gold" represents the false promises and illusory rewards of their addiction. Yet, despite this, "the boys sparkle in that way that fills Mom," suggesting that even in their altered state, there remains a glimmer of their former selves that brings fleeting comfort to their mother.
Mom's actions, "stirring a big pot of what they will not eat," underscore the futility and heartbreak of her efforts to care for them, juxtaposed with the boys’ "frenetic voltage," an image conveying both their hyperactive state and the electric, unstable energy they exude.
The final lines evoke a wistful hope: "where there is talk, daylight / talk, of sports and crushes, school and jobs; / talk, as seasons turn, of kicking the habit." This "daylight talk" contrasts sharply with the darkness of their addiction, reflecting ordinary aspirations and the cyclical nature of their lives. The reference to "seasons turn" suggests the passage of time and the recurring hope for change and recovery, even as the reality remains fraught with difficulty.
In sum, **In That Way** captures the complex interplay of despair and hope within a family affected by addiction. It highlights the moments of human connection and normalcy that persist despite the overarching shadow of drug use, offering a nuanced portrayal of the struggle for recovery and the enduring, if fragile, bonds of family.
Tribular
**Tribular** is a stark and gritty exploration of the lives of the poor in a decaying urban environment. Through vivid and often harsh imagery, the poem paints a portrait of a community struggling with poverty, neglect, and societal disdain. The poem's tone is unflinchingly honest, capturing the raw reality of life in a place where survival is a daily challenge.
The poem begins with a direct address, situating the reader in a city characterized by its disadvantaged population—BOCES students and middle-school dropouts. The imagery of "rocket-thrusting" suggests a frenetic, desperate energy driving the inhabitants. The focus shifts to the poor, depicted as marginalized and overlooked, their presence a stark contrast to the downtown areas undergoing hipster-led gentrification.
The water imagery is particularly striking, with well-water described as "crimson" and flammable, highlighting the hazardous living conditions. This dangerous water becomes a point of pride, a macabre joke in a place where humor serves as a coping mechanism. The kerosene heaters and tock-tocking buckets paint a picture of makeshift, precarious living arrangements, while the description of utility-grade bacon in white cartons emphasizes the low quality of available food.
Pride and defiance emerge as themes, with the poor boasting not just about their hardships but also about their ability to read, steal, and fight. Their struggle with literacy is depicted with a touch of irony, as they attempt to read words like "hickory smoked" with a mix of determination and humor. This struggle is a metaphor for their broader fight for dignity and recognition.
The poem delves into the physical and social ramifications of poverty. The inhabitants' health issues—rickets, lead exposure, obesity, warts, retardation, and flu—are laid bare, illustrating the toll that poverty takes on the body and mind. The image of "teen diarrheas from diaper to hair" conveys the squalor and lack of sanitation in their living conditions.
Despite the grim circumstances, the poem highlights a sense of community and loyalty. Friends and family members are brought into their homes, regardless of the strain it puts on already limited resources. This tribalism, though post-industrial and tainted by the smell of bleach and shit, offers a semblance of support and solidarity.
The poem concludes with a personal touch, describing visits from the narrator's mother. Her act of giving the narrator an old blanket, used by those in dire conditions, symbolizes the persistence of familial bonds and care even in the face of overwhelming adversity.
In summary, **Tribular** is a powerful and unflinching examination of poverty and resilience. Through its vivid, often brutal imagery, the poem captures the harsh realities of life on the margins, while also acknowledging the strength and defiance of those who endure it.
Air Brakes
**Air Brakes** poignantly captures a fleeting moment of parental observation and connection as a child transitions from home to the outside world. The poem evokes themes of growth, separation, and the enduring bond between parent and child, set against the everyday backdrop of a school bus ride.
The opening line, "Soon he will trudge up the steps of the school bus," immediately places the reader in a familiar yet emotionally charged setting. The word "trudge" suggests a sense of routine and reluctance, hinting at the child's mixed feelings about leaving the safety of home. The phrase "thinking perhaps nothing of me" introduces a bittersweet note, reflecting the parent's awareness of the child's growing independence and the inevitable distancing that comes with it.
Despite this impending separation, the child remains "so tender, still so tethered to my side," illustrating the deep emotional connection that persists even when the child is "mad at me or just moody that morning." This acknowledgment of the child's fluctuating emotions highlights the parent's understanding and acceptance of these moods as part of their bond.
The poem's focus then shifts to a specific action: the child taking a window seat. This choice of seating, "where I can see him in profile from the doorstep," becomes a symbolic act of connection. The window seat allows the parent to maintain a visual link with the child, emphasizing the significance of these small, everyday gestures in preserving their relationship.
The imagery of the child's eyes "just barely perceptible through the tint" underlines the theme of partial separation and the subtle ways in which the child remains connected to the parent. The child's glance, cutting toward the parent's eyes "at the lunging hiss of the air brakes," serves as a powerful, almost instinctive moment of acknowledgment. This brief eye contact, framed by the sound of the air brakes, encapsulates the enduring connection between parent and child amidst the backdrop of their daily routine.
In summary, **Air Brakes** is a touching reflection on the subtle yet profound moments of connection between a parent and child as they navigate the transitions of growing up. The poem captures the tenderness and complexity of these interactions with evocative imagery and emotional depth, making it a resonant and poignant piece.
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Don’t let anyone tell you that real life is lacking in poetic interest. This is exactly what the poet is for: he has the mind and the imagination to find something of interest in everyday things. Real life supplies the motifs, the points that need to be said—the actual heart of the matter; but it is the poet’s job to fashion it all into a beautiful, animated whole. You are familiar with Fürnstein, the so-called “nature poet”? He has written a poem about growing hops, and you couldn’t imagine anything nicer. I have now asked him to write some poems celebrating the work of skilled artisans, in particular weavers, and I am quite sure he will succeed; he has lived among such people from an early age, he knows the subject inside out, and will be in full command of his material. That is the advantage of small works: you need only choose subjects that you know and have at your command. With a longer poetic work, however, this is not possible. There is no way around it: all the different threads that tie the whole thing together, and are woven into the design, have to be shown in accurate detail. Young people only have a one-sided view of things, whereas a longer work requires a multiplicity of viewpoints—and that’s where they come unstuck.—Goethe (Conversations with Eckermann)
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