Posts Tagged ‘social’

 

mural-on-indian-red-ground

Dodgy poems for dodgy times
A rotten orifice oozing slime
Freaking out the normal people
With socially awkward ramblings
Saying the wrong thing
Without even knowing it
Is difficult like a knot of barbed wire
To make a connection
Even if you mean well
Just being friendly
Mistaken verbal bumbling
Losing your interlocutor’s attention
Trying to break solitude
With connection

americanrestoration

I wish I was a real man

Like those guys on American Restoration

I wish I was more Nick Cave and less Clive Palmer

I wish I could drink all night and throw up in the morning like Bukowski

But I’m not a badass

I’m not alpha

I lack the social skills to pick up women in a bar

I lack the drive to dominate and subjugate

I have a feeling I lack testosterone

Can men and women really be friends?

Just because you want to fuck someone

Doesn’t mean you don’t respect them

In fact you probably respect them more through idealisation

Imagining them on a pedestal

Beautiful unobtainable woman

Forever in my mind

I’d be happy with the friendzone

Just to spend some time in your orbit

Gorgeous bodacious babe

 

sx_dolls_10

Sex bot my sexpot

Oh let me die in your mechanical embrace

Feeling your suction and vibration

Sex bot my sexpot

I wasn’t sure if I should get you to look like Scarlett Johansen or Winona Ryder

But I’m glad I chose Sylvia Plath

Sex bot my sexpot

I love to turn you on if you know what I mean

Let us kiss then make electronic love

Sex bot my sexpot

You have settings for vanilla and kinky

Naughty spanky fun for you and me

Sex bot my sexpot

I don’t need to have social skills to get you into bed

You don’t care about my vast vortex of desperation

 

empathy

Symbiotic empathy
Is precious as platinum
Person to person network pulsating
Holding hands with minds and mutual goodwill
Understanding pain like nails hammered into souls
Interdividual manifestations of companionship
Mirror-feeling alien emotions of others
Can unite us like no other magic
As we are social animals
When we feel the other’s pain
And can imagine their journey
Compassion flows like honey

face

Awful lawful machinery of conversation
Turn and counter turn
Speaking and the waiting
Nonverbal gestures and face expressions
All in sync and so confusing
A dance to which not all are invited
But just to live you need to communicate
We are social animals
Some of us aren’t set up for it
But we are social animals
Some of us fall asleep in empty beds
But we are social animals
Some people dream of imaginary lovers all night long
As we are social animals
Some cry themselves to sleep each night
As we are social animals

And when the moment comes
A pretty woman smiles at you
You’re at a loss for what to do
Your boring nice-guy bullshit doesn’t cut it
Your recitation of your tedious life and mundane hobbies sink into dust
Your questions are deflected or irrelevant
You cannot do the conversational dance of flirting
And some honey-tongued Lothario will swoop in
And take her away

rape-is-such-a-strong-word

After work drinks while I was working as a shipping clerk
Whole office in a pub in Northbridge
Five beers
Improved social skills
Feel relaxed and engaged talking to beautiful women
Ten beers
Not so many social skills
Starting to be a bit of a dick
Starting to repeat myself
Fifteen beers
No social skills
Slurred speech
Load of toads squirming and whirling in my brain
Pissed as Bukowski, I stagger off from the pub, collapse in an alleyway on James Street and fall asleep
Wake up early in the morning surrounded by graffiti covered walls on cold bitumen- my head hurts like I have been hit between the eyes
There is a weedy little guy with a beard and a shit-eating grin on his face staring at me
When he can see that I am awake he says:
‘I sucked your dick while you were asleep’
I am struck dumb and numb by shock
Not a good feeling- paranoia ensues
I get up and walk briskly away towards the train
At least he didn’t fuck my ass

beautifulwoman
Once again I’m in a condition of too many women and not enough social skills
OT honours students have invited me to an end of year party
So many pulchritudinous women that my brain rolls back in my skull and my balls clench back up into my body
Social workers there as well and you can tell them from OTs.
OTs are straight and the social workers are urban pretentious hipsters- my kind of people
Like poets
I am transformed to a heightened state of social awareness thanks to several pints of stout
I converse with them all and they are all friendly, smiling and pure, but I don’t sense any sexual tension or moments of intimacy
I have a fantastic time even though there are too many women and not enough social skills
One of the girls takes me home
I ask her if she wants to meet my guinea pigs
She says no.