Becoming ID


I’ve got one hand flexed

Around the stem of a fertile pen

The other unscrewing

My cardiac valve

If I expose my blood

To the elements

Will I rust?

Tetanus immobilizing

My swaying limbs


Resolute or intransigent?

Will I flinch when reaping

Stark white monosyllables

From a verminous subconscious

Or will I burgeon as the Taoist

Spirit ripened through exposure?


My falling voice

Creates no ripples

Without witness

Do these despairing stanzas

Animate the way

They were intended?


Only foolish men

Need the comfort

Of vanity

Genius is complete

On creation


Here I stand

In pieces

A foolish man

Whispering to a crowd

Narcissism inverted

But equally self-obsessed


Of my flesh

These poems wear

The same cloak of invisibility

That I have worn,

Heedless of season

An impious hibernation

Silencing dissent

Fearful eyes adjust the margins

That I may continue unabated

To rest

Mediocrity, aborting



My treasonous heart

Goads my pen

Tap, tap, tap

An illithid stripping


From an onerous womb (mind)

An illithid stalking

Psionic walls

Emotional constructs

That lust not for revelation

But preservation


Confession, imminent

Vital to the integrity

Of my scaffolding

I must allay these burdens

Or abandon altogether

The wind


There is very little left

Of my super ego

I am becoming ID

Impulse over procedure

Viscera over vision

Semaphore over soliloquy

Mascara black, my words

Run on inquisition

Any closer and will both

Go mad


This poem is about my writing process I often start out very reserved, locked up, rigid, disconnected from my feelings, insecure I worry what others think, what I think about myself which isn’t good (this isn’t always the case but I am writing daily now and inspiration varies), I edit out things that are too personal. I end up with a few very tense lines and then I get to business hacking down all those barriers, barriers that my extreme shyness reconstructs daily. I eventually get to the vulnerable, juicy center and that is what I try to give you guys. By the time I get to the core I rarely care what anyone thinks because at that point it is all about the writing.  Writing is cathartic for me because I tend to be very very inhibited normally and I feel like myself when I write. The reason it sounds like multiple poems simultaneously is because that is actually how I write, several poems in the same breath all running together sometimes of a similar theme sometimes of very contrary themes.  I will invariably use all the poem but maybe not at the same time if it doesn’t fit together sensibly. This time I left it because I wanted to show you the untamed version lol

Illithid if you haven’t heard of one.


Pulling Threads

heart with thread

I fold my limbs inward

A shapeless, imperceptible stalk

That does not flower or incline

It’s sullen face skyward



My roots rejoice

In fertile soil

Never mind that it is the corpse

Of my very own heart

That I indiscriminately feed upon

I know no blood sweeter than ink

No obsession more compulsive

Than pulling out threads


I will strip my psyche

Until no sin can claim wholly

My innocence

Until no trauma

Can force me to sleep

And act unconsciously


There is nothing more alluring

Than sincerity

I’ll offer myself without

Caveat or camouflage

Judge me if you must

But never say

That I wasn’t myself


I defend against oversight

No one truly wants to be


No one wants to scream

Their echos

Recoiling in vacancy

Every molecule within

Seeks to connect


I hunt for your true name

That I may work my voodoo

Into your arteries and veins

There is no more pervasive addiction

Than love

I crave it more than most

Having entered this world

With nothing but my instincts


My 3 obsessions

1. Introspection

2. Writing

3. Love

Submission for

Poet’s United



Your scarred hands

Speak of invasion

Of passion sliding

Recklessly into a heart

Blanketed in vestigial thorns


How could you love me

Knowing that beneath my carapace

Lie not the intimacy of communion

But a beast ostracizing

In contempt of beauty


Sometimes your smile

Threatens to silence

The demons

Bred inside

My flesh

Sometimes your hands

Rearrange me

Cover my naked bones

With the heat

Of your lips


If I believe hard enough

Will I cease thinking

Of loss and act?

Will your body overlook

The mistakes

In my composition?

Will you find  sanctuary

Where I’ve found only



I have never seen

My face without


I could never bare

For you, whose opinion

I honor above all others,

To look at me

With the same eyes


If we stay together

Time will unveil me

If I walk away

While I still belong

Then I’ll have these

Perfect memories

To rely upon

But if I leave

I’ll never know

The nature of my soul


Mythology Workshop #1


This time I feel the explanation should go at the beginning.

This was the prompt I was given
Vesna (a Goddess in Serbian mythology) is walking through the park one evening and sees a couple breaking up. She wants to stop it from happening. I gave the male and female leads names (Serbian names hopefully if the name guide didn’t deceive me) to make it easier to follow the dialogue.  I also specified who they were talking to in case that would be confusing. I have never done a poem 100% in dialogue so this was an experiment (not a purposeful one this is just what happened lol).

(to Ana)
The only time I ever dance
Is in the ghost of your smile

It is your happiness that I seek
Even above my instinct to predation

It is not for lack of hunger
That I disarm these hands

I wait that our love may grow
Beyond a reactionary carnality

Ana (to Mihailo)
I am not the innocent that you endow
With uncompromising virtue

I cannot be the object of your worship
My heart suffers that I should deceive

I grapple faithlessly with the notion
That providence has abandoned me

My lover resides amongst the stars
By my own frailty, perished

We pretend, cease your fruitless wait
For no heart have I left to give

Mihailo (to Ana)
Tragedy has rendered you fearful
Do not renounce our love

Ana (to Mihailo)
It was loneliness that brought us close
You were merely a diversion

Mihailo (to Ana)
Your words mislead, do not speak
As if our relationship means nothing

If you would leave then speak only
Of your trepidation

Do not vilify yourself on my behalf
I know what I stand to lose if you go

Ana (to Mihailo)
I must go, better that you find
Relief in my guilty conscious

Mihailo (to Ana)
I find no pleasure
That you should suffer

I am the one lacking
I could not ease your pain

Vesna (to both)
It is vanity to claim omniscience
You have only to follow your hearts

Vesna (to Ana)

It is too late to keep distance
If you go now you will sicken with regret

Here he stands pleading before you
There is no greater gift

Would you turn your back
On such a blessing?

Would you dishonor those lost
By ceasing now to live?

Ana (to Vesna)
I would not forget those deceased
Would that not be a greater dishonor?

Vesna (to Ana)
Would your departed wish you
To remain crippled by grief?

If such a sadist was he
Then he was never worthy of your tears

Ana (to Vesna)
He would not wish for me this fate
That I, have in self-pity assumed

I understand now that I mourn
For my loss, not his

I was afraid to love too deeply
Lest death again betray

Ana (to Mihailo)

There is no man more deserving
If you will still have me

I know my heart capable
Of reciprocation

What do you say Mihailo
Care to try again?



Mythology Workshop #1



Finding myself bereft

I ceased searching

Hungered in silence

Waited for naught

But a wan-faced psychopomp

To deliver me honest

Into a hell of my creation


You stood

In Charon’s stead

Hand extended

Belligerent, hopeful

Willing to forgive

Those sins

Which are rightfully mine

Those sins which honor



I do not understand you

Dear heart

For you are everything

And I nothing

Why do you stand

With your needle and thread

Tightening seams

That yawn in submission

To an indiscreet madness?

Why do you linger

When all others have strayed?

There is no diamond

In anthracite concealed

You have seen me

So I implore you turn away

Before failure revokes


That we know of love


This is fictional




I have dressed myself

In her velvet shadows

She the madness

Complicit to my art

The mother of all regrets

The vixen whose scorn

Curdles blood and ink alike

She is my jailer

Beneath her myriad forms

I have known a solace of sorts

A solace bred in obsession


A galaxy unto myself,

Planets and stars extinguished

Architecture and dreams

I gather at the seams

Nesting molecule after molecule

Into the same grim chasms

Replacing a necessary space

With substance

Small but ponderous

I grow indomitable

In my loneliness

Pen Name Selected!


I know you have been curious to see what I would choose.  I don’t think it is what you expected exactly considering that this name wasn’t exactly part of the quiz. I considered all your suggestions, which I found extremely helpful as it helped me to ultimately find the name that resonated with me.

So without further ado and baring any unforeseen objections (because I may have overlooked something obvious)

I chose

Yves K. Morrow

That is the first bit of business. The second piece of business is the matter of a biography. The little blurb on the back of the book. Is there anyone willing to write that? You can ask me any questions anything from the most personal to the most random. I do want my identity to remain anonymous. If you want you can talk about my poetry instead of me as a person. You can even make up a character if you wanted lol Whatever just something interesting to occupy that space =)

I want to be anonymous if I use a photograph if by some random chance a family member came across it they would undoubtedly recognize me. Should I try for a very abstract photo of myself? Artwork that represents somehow my aura? I can’t actually draw or paint so no idea how I would do that lol Or should I just not have any type of photo?



My mouth is a fountainhead

Laughter welling, metaphysical

From shivering lips,

Lips that mustn’t and cannot

Silence the hysterics of drowning breaths


I know the terror of cachinnation

When it births from a sourceless despair

The gut-stripping panic of neurons

Alighting red and bloodless


I know my body as a grave

Inside of which the discarnate “I” heaves

Inside of which, that same fragile bird must nest

Regardless of the parasitical hatchlings

That mercilessly devour her chicks


I cohabit with demons

Frozen in graceless pallor

Voice singing, nostrils raised in alarm

Like the hackles of an aggrieved beast

I wouldn’t recognize myself in a crowd

Features unzipped, tongue insurmountable


Have you ever seen a dead man smile?

Electric pulse wrenching the mouth free of flesh

Humor impassive, teeth angled for incision

Eyes dim as the sockets wherein they perish

That aspect

Which mocks and enslaves all hearts to fall upon it

That aspect

Which I must unwillingly bear

Despite the inconsolable tears to follow


This poem is about my experience with Gelastic seizures aka laughing seizures. I think in one of my previous posts I went into detail but I can’t recall whatever the case feel free to ask questions!

Prompt 18 “Losing Control”


I want you to write about an experience where you lost control (of your emotions, impulses, mind, body, life whatever). You do not have to write about this topic in the negative (you know I did haha) you can talk about falling in love, sky diving for the first time, having a baby, moving to another country there are just as many positive examples as negative so don’t feel that you have share something gut-wrenching (you are most welcome but the choice is yours). You can even write about something like the freedom of dance or getting carried away by your muse. Pictures are welcome! I did not paint this picture it is a wallpaper found on Google.