Tag Archives: Poetry

Dislocated

Frozen…but not the kind from being too cold. It’s the type that comes from a new intimacy with Truth.

Truth came to my full attention this evening.

Truth came to replace its previous stand-in: distant, shallow stories.

Truth revealed itself through expressed bravery and exposure.

It’s easy to be nonchalantly composed when theory runs my life.

“Those problems are ‘over there…’ Is this even really happening? Is it that big of a deal?”

But then I find out and realize that YES. It is. These problems are simmering in people’s lives who I see weekly, more than my own family and dogs. And now, it’s boiled over for me to see…for me to feel.

When people share their vulnerability it allows us to step up and meet them—to fill that once-distant space between us.

There becomes a new layer of intimacy to explore: humanity.

For now, I’m still processing, digesting, and frozen.

…but what’s gonna happen when I melt?

You ask how I’m doing…

But do you really care?

When I answer truthfully I scare you off.
Is it my honestly?
My dreams?
My pathetic excitement and curiosity in my own life?

You shut me down and criticize me for answering the way I did.
(Whatever that was)
So I am conditioned to not open up.
I close myself off to you.

This pattern cycles around in circles like the seasons.

I begin to think
“What if you are right?”
and I really have palty aspirations
that don’t offer anything to anyone,
that I’m not valuable,
that me being on Earth and me not existing wouldn’t make a difference to you, or anyone.

If anything, it would be less of a hassle if there was less of me..

So why do you ask how I’m doing?


Sorry for the depressing ass shit lately. It’s a phase I’m going through, hopefully. Luckily, I’m remembering how therapeutic writing poetry is for me…you reading this probably understand

Lazy days

Phone off, forgotten somewhere.
Loose, flowing, brushed hair.
Zero fucks given & I don’t care.
Off to the inner world I dare.

No meeting, no projects,
only reading for fun.
Clean here, clean there,
hair now goes up in a high bun.

No obligations, no people,
I’m left with myself.
Usually this is a blast,
but sometimes I wonder about killing oneself.

I’d rather use my off days for this:
processing emotional, confusing bullshit,
then waste what little reserves I have,
and let my “social life” take a hit.

Lazy days are the best days of all;
I get to watch aspects of me crumble and fall.
This may seem depressing and small,
but out comes little gems, like this here scrawl.

 

What are your lazy days like?

Four Scores and (Eighty-) seven Whores Ago…

Cycling through all the memories I hold,
attempting to craft up a new ending,
I realize I have chapters left untold
to the stinging king–character: a fling.

Ooo, baby! Did you just hear that one ring?
Come on down off your bed-swaying high horse.
Hear my words, feel their essence, let it sting.
Of course, you digress to endorse your “source.”

And no remorse, for my truth you ignore,
or for my emotions you influence.
What does that make me? Lax foyer decor?
Unify like a stagnant confluence.

Once so innocent, you left me in ruins…
a thriving civilization no more.
Merciless and widespread executions,
right before you gently walk out the door

When do I accept something literally
instead of taking it figuratively?

And when will the delusion of you
fade back to the Blue?

Duality Splits Unity

Duality splits unity,
her with he, as he with her.
And after a period of scrutiny
I found that they always were.

Across the ether,
beyond Earth,
I discovered the teacher
through my birth.

Lessons taught come from synchronization.
Lessons learned arise from shatters.
The seed germinates through visualization,
to soon ascend with the masters.

Stay Golden

Transitional Blue,

Moonstruck much?
Totally tempting to touch.

Now, riddle me this:
Is it the quantity of friends that count?
Or the quality of friends that matter?

Lose two, gain one.
Look deeper than the superficial stratum.
What is being lost?
What is being gained?

Ahhh, there you go…
Now do you see?
It’s a lot easier to flow,
When you just let things be.

Last night you fantasized of Indigo Dreams.
In the randomness of the projected schemes
It might seem, a little extreme, a repetitive theme.
Look past that ignorant beam,
Keep acknowledging the gleam;
Your growing esteem,
Into unity supreme.

Stay Golden,
Xo

To Beg Like a Kid in a Candy Shop

Oh,

To be the lover of he who should not be talked of
for others may break the flower pot
and let all beauty fall upon the cold concrete and carry the need to be thrown away.

How it bubbles inside the wanted lover to boil up and over for others to see, for him to see,
but sometimes one must keep a resolution from themselves until concluded
so the happiness is higher than how it would have been if it was planned.

Coda

Sinking into her worse enemy
She let the impulse control her once free mind.
Her visible exit is a mistake,
but it’s the only one she can find.

Regrets arrive before the attempt is complete;
She plays it off like it was no defeat.
She thinks that running away
will save the day
but really, she just was beat.

Within Seconds

Never again, will
I believe anything you say so easily
or hear you out for your explanation.
Real trust doesn’t need tears for a hug

Everything will have to be numbed down.
Happy now?

Underneath it all, who are you?
Obviously…
You are just a scared bastard.

Killing yourself slowly is not fine with me
Can’t handle that?
uhh..
F*** you then.