RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Monday, June 4

twitter renga #0418

[twitter renga done one tanka at a time,
at my @rojonekku twit acct, monthly]

blossoming afresh
like the redbuds - raven mack
the dirtgod's next phase

stability is a myth
at best; I cuddle with change

me and change curled up
like honeysuckle vine on
old barbed wire fences

dirtgod life theories feral
in nature, and IRL

change's seductive
siren song says "disappear
west, then south, then east"

change whispers promises of
una vida nueva

transitions into
next phases lack actual
defining moment

there is no line in the sand
as life metamorphoses

metamorphosis
of unseen metaphysics
only felt in heart

foolish philosophy of
science - all can be broke down

that "bend but don't break"
flexible philosophy
doesn't always work

born broke, still struggle, zero
safety net, no time to dream

dating app swipes right
on progressive privileged
women with bright smiles

generally left behind
by them, online, in real life

my type is cookout,
not brunch; mustard greens, not kale;
with it, not with her

expensive well-planned tattoos
sure sign we don't really match

broke ass genetics
predisposed to embrace doom - 
self-medication

drunk dad said "quitters never 
win and winners never quit"

civilization's
not real progress from simple
caveman times (it seems)

"progress" assumes a purpose
exists for people as whole

if no collective
purpose, why should I assume
singular purpose?

sobriety suggests I
should be progressing... to where?

craving opioid
stratocumulus escape
from bleakest landscape

the light on the horizon
keeps moving further away

no blessings to be
found, each day seems a bigger
shitstorm than before

what am I doing wrong here?
what lesson do I ignore?

got given a car
with sunroof, even when cold
mostly kept open

when the outside is inside,
that's a natural blessing

'bout to go outside,
see what's poppin' with all the
fresh redbud blossoms

playing dominoes with crows,
freestyling feral fool flows

sitting in back yard
I'll soon enough abandon -
melancholy breeze

airplanes flicker like lightning
bugs in lower atmosphere

nearly two decades
spent accumulating an
artist's aesthetic

pack in boxes since someone
else's identity changed

angry children in
next room watching another
shit redbox movie

I stare at the wasp making
drunken circles overhead

no women want me,
no real friends able to step
out their comfort zone

in a world full of bitches,
left alone, played the fuck out

should've known better
than to trust motherfuckers,
or believe in dreams

suckers are born everyday;
I certainly did my part

another day means
already convinced myself
to keep on trying

strange hotel room with two beds,
pretending all is intact

desire acceptance
so badly due to that ol'
inner-child bullshit

"little raven, chill the fuck
out," deep breaths telling trauma

many got it worse,
and those that have it better
likely pretending

"to exist is to suffer"
said stoner tramp named Booda

met Booda outside
the Columbus, Ohio,
Greyhound station, drunk

he was drunk on wine; I was
drunk on traveling strange paths

drunken universe
unfolds supreme mathematics
along strange spirals

I ain't complaining - just sit
back and enjoy Earthly ride

sobriety feels
like a mistake on Friday
nights lacking purpose

fine line between pointlessness
and hopelessness - I'm straddling

also wavering...
life as I knew it falling
apart in hard ways

all our life's stability
is nothing but sand castles

me first selfishness
camouflaged in earthy words
which lack backing acts

my needs are secondary,
and likely always have been

the naivete
to think "it'll work out" since
you always get help

as if privilege is the
universe blessing your acts

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