rjrpoetry - Hello Poetry

Energy radiates and traces my body with celestial tones I am more alive than I’ve ever been when surrendering to awe and wonder the same way my younger self fearlessly did something about that glimmer hasn’t left yet, may never leave memories still have flavors to me mornings with a lake of flakes in my bowl or years and years later when a fried hangover cure restores me each month and its esculent flashbacks are a part of me a cell in the skin a beaten feather in the wing something about the glimmer hasn’t left yet the Earth is still new and discoveries never expire: new scenery new explorations new chronicles in the cinema new kindred spirits new waves of audio new therapeutic solitudes all balancing out the new captivities new mistakes new mediocrity new unhealthy solitudes and more until the body is a home base of homeostasis commensalism at its finest but something about the glimmer hasn’t left yet, may never leave I outgrew shadows who doubted their expiration dates I don’t rubricate the sky in a rage anymore don’t let the heartbreak pause a pulse anymore don’t let misanthropy obscure who I see anymore don’t let uncertainty’s web catch me in a paralysis anymore or at least I try something tells me I’ll never “age out” of my hunger to live fully I know deep down you're similar your craving will not fade into cinders oh what a feelin! To be trippin on nostalgia.

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Dec 29, 2022

Dec 29, 2022 at 2:17 PM UTC

Nostalgia Trips

Energy radiates and traces my body with celestial tones I am more alive than I’ve ever been when surrendering to awe and wonder the same way my younger self fearlessly did something about that glimmer hasn’t left yet, may never leave memories still have flavors to me mornings with a lake of flakes in my bowl or years and years later when a fried hangover cure restores me each month and its esculent flashbacks are a part of me a cell in the skin a beaten feather in the wing something about the glimmer hasn’t left yet the Earth is still new and discoveries never expire: new scenery new explorations new chronicles in the cinema new kindred spirits new waves of audio new therapeutic solitudes all balancing out the new captivities new mistakes new mediocrity new unhealthy solitudes and more until the body is a home base of homeostasis commensalism at its finest but something about the glimmer hasn’t left yet, may never leave I outgrew shadows who doubted their expiration dates I don’t rubricate the sky in a rage anymore don’t let the heartbreak pause a pulse anymore don’t let misanthropy obscure who I see anymore don’t let uncertainty’s web catch me in a paralysis anymore or at least I try something tells me I’ll never “age out” of my hunger to live fully I know deep down you're similar your craving will not fade into cinders oh what a feelin! To be trippin on nostalgia.

45

I need you in my life, baby The only productive addiction in my future is to your proximity A decade of scattered sorrows is but an aching blink when I’m with you You manifest what I could never say or feel without the fear of exile Rom-Coms hold no candle or wick to our story Proposals would only seem like trivial when it comes to you and I We’re closer than nostalgia and episodic memory closer than gods and their devotees closer than the dawn and dusk when nine to fives carry you through a day Yet despite our bond only I can hear you, see you, feel you, think you So with baited breath I speak your name, or at least what you are known as: Imagination.

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Oct 25, 2022

Oct 25, 2022 at 3:18 PM UTC

Until we are no more

I need you in my life, baby The only productive addiction in my future is to your proximity A decade of scattered sorrows is but an aching blink when I’m with you You manifest what I could never say or feel without the fear of exile Rom-Coms hold no candle or wick to our story Proposals would only seem like trivial when it comes to you and I We’re closer than nostalgia and episodic memory closer than gods and their devotees closer than the dawn and dusk when nine to fives carry you through a day Yet despite our bond only I can hear you, see you, feel you, think you So with baited breath I speak your name, or at least what you are known as: Imagination.

14

Agitation, despair and its winged variations, you name it all repressed but still rise to test me What is my recourse? I tread lightly on this Escheresque concourse It’s repeated often, I know but the pen and keys are my most cathartic release they’re magma to emerging flames they’re sedatives for demons and angels alike that reside on corners of this clavicle How many steps could you take through my lens, my concave mirror? Have you felt what I felt? The brimming, cerebral cauldron bursting, putting volcanic geysers to shame the questions outnumbering seconds spent since Earth’s nativity the emotions ripping a rift through which rationality deep dives it becomes Phelps in unknown depths your body becomes both a Vatican and a Colosseum, place of worship and place of war and you walk the tightropes your vocal chords have morphed into careful to seem like another replica, don’t wanna upset the blades they all balance on don’t wanna scare the rest hollow, no, best to follow and best to follow the regimen: coffee beans and spice of delusion in the hazelnut syrup, sip slow follow the same cycle because change is a cocoon and cocoons ache like the past keep on pretending to love the workplace love the norms held over you puppet strings bring warmth after all in this solitary world cold as winter missile silos and just as destructive So I ask again, have you felt what I felt? Do the few days in utopia offset the majority on rodent wheels? Have you risen so high, to satellite peaks, to the best you’ve ever been only to have the worst waiting on the coin’s parallel? We flip like saltwater fins and backstroke till a back is left broke I’m learning to discard hope but breathe in the alternative I believe in better days, I will carve them from local stone and build a home upon their surfaces I now know paradise is a set of blueprints happiness is no state of mind, it’s a direction to me you may not notice when you arrive but you keep going and that’s the beauty of it you let it be the wind It’ll find you on your journey Tell me again, have you felt what I felt?

0

Dec 7, 2021

Dec 7, 2021 at 12:05 PM UTC

To The Surface

Agitation, despair and its winged variations, you name it all repressed but still rise to test me What is my recourse? I tread lightly on this Escheresque concourse It’s repeated often, I know but the pen and keys are my most cathartic release they’re magma to emerging flames they’re sedatives for demons and angels alike that reside on corners of this clavicle How many steps could you take through my lens, my concave mirror? Have you felt what I felt? The brimming, cerebral cauldron bursting, putting volcanic geysers to shame the questions outnumbering seconds spent since Earth’s nativity the emotions ripping a rift through which rationality deep dives it becomes Phelps in unknown depths your body becomes both a Vatican and a Colosseum, place of worship and place of war and you walk the tightropes your vocal chords have morphed into careful to seem like another replica, don’t wanna upset the blades they all balance on don’t wanna scare the rest hollow, no, best to follow and best to follow the regimen: coffee beans and spice of delusion in the hazelnut syrup, sip slow follow the same cycle because change is a cocoon and cocoons ache like the past keep on pretending to love the workplace love the norms held over you puppet strings bring warmth after all in this solitary world cold as winter missile silos and just as destructive So I ask again, have you felt what I felt? Do the few days in utopia offset the majority on rodent wheels? Have you risen so high, to satellite peaks, to the best you’ve ever been only to have the worst waiting on the coin’s parallel? We flip like saltwater fins and backstroke till a back is left broke I’m learning to discard hope but breathe in the alternative I believe in better days, I will carve them from local stone and build a home upon their surfaces I now know paradise is a set of blueprints happiness is no state of mind, it’s a direction to me you may not notice when you arrive but you keep going and that’s the beauty of it you let it be the wind It’ll find you on your journey Tell me again, have you felt what I felt?

46

_ _ , _ _ , 2 0 1 9 is a day gone to the ashes of kismet’s pages the midday zephyrs and wino meditations that ran through streets like rainfall now live in the hippocampus the bright side’s gone with the dark the whole day, for what it was, is no longer and it bugs me out that through any endless combo of permutations and planetary rotations, the same circumstances that built the ground of yesterday will never repeat or will they? I’ll never know like the licks that reduce a Tootsie Pop to crumbs I’m not intelligent, I’m dumb because it took me 27 years to learn the value of 24 hours to learn that a lotus bloom is something to treasure ten times more than scraps of pure gold we are the children of nature what does that make our creations? Humans birthed a cosmos of currencies and chambers of computer generated concoctions. . . are they not descendants of the Mother? In some abstract way? Idk, dude, I’m out of it, if you know me, you know exactly what that means - - but I digress - - It’s just that I never got the chance to tell the day how grateful I was to have it and I now know that wasting time is a luxury modern civilization can enjoy after epochs and eras this day and age is as far from perfect as the brain is from perfection, tech grew faster than the collective consciousness and we still limit worth and love to skin and heteronormativity but at least for a small sliver of time things were, in a single moment . . . pretty good.

0

Aug 4, 2021

Aug 4, 2021 at 6:48 PM UTC

Ephemerality

_ _ , _ _ , 2 0 1 9 is a day gone to the ashes of kismet’s pages the midday zephyrs and wino meditations that ran through streets like rainfall now live in the hippocampus the bright side’s gone with the dark the whole day, for what it was, is no longer and it bugs me out that through any endless combo of permutations and planetary rotations, the same circumstances that built the ground of yesterday will never repeat or will they? I’ll never know like the licks that reduce a Tootsie Pop to crumbs I’m not intelligent, I’m dumb because it took me 27 years to learn the value of 24 hours to learn that a lotus bloom is something to treasure ten times more than scraps of pure gold we are the children of nature what does that make our creations? Humans birthed a cosmos of currencies and chambers of computer generated concoctions. . . are they not descendants of the Mother? In some abstract way? Idk, dude, I’m out of it, if you know me, you know exactly what that means - - but I digress - - It’s just that I never got the chance to tell the day how grateful I was to have it and I now know that wasting time is a luxury modern civilization can enjoy after epochs and eras this day and age is as far from perfect as the brain is from perfection, tech grew faster than the collective consciousness and we still limit worth and love to skin and heteronormativity but at least for a small sliver of time things were, in a single moment . . . pretty good.

35

High rises burst from soft Earth’s flesh Was it even ready for us? From an extraterrestrial’s perspective we’re a disease upon this gentle cerulean Elysium I’m living in the mouth of duality I hear it speak as I leave my block and give a peace sign to the abandoned residences in progress On the block I currently live, the sidewalk is cracked into drunken mazes and yet Directly across, the neighbors stand upon freshly minted asphalt and into a metropolitan construct made for the modern brain: built in amenities, contemporary textiles and garage parking Are we next? To be bought and sold, if so, can we at least have a plan for the residents? Will tenants be invited to the newborn paradise? We have the budget to feed cement trucks faster than hungry mouths. It’s become a bad habit yet I sit by the man-made imperfections hoping someone cares enough to drip their Eden into the palms of my neighbors If time will tell I’ve been getting quite the silent treatment Travel a little deeper and…. Cosmopolitan crossroads coexist with beggars and lost folk…. Since when was the speech divided between affluent and broke? "IDK?" The duality replies I thought you’d say that.

0

Aug 4, 2021

Aug 4, 2021 at 6:14 PM UTC

The Mouth of Duality

High rises burst from soft Earth’s flesh Was it even ready for us? From an extraterrestrial’s perspective we’re a disease upon this gentle cerulean Elysium I’m living in the mouth of duality I hear it speak as I leave my block and give a peace sign to the abandoned residences in progress On the block I currently live, the sidewalk is cracked into drunken mazes and yet Directly across, the neighbors stand upon freshly minted asphalt and into a metropolitan construct made for the modern brain: built in amenities, contemporary textiles and garage parking Are we next? To be bought and sold, if so, can we at least have a plan for the residents? Will tenants be invited to the newborn paradise? We have the budget to feed cement trucks faster than hungry mouths. It’s become a bad habit yet I sit by the man-made imperfections hoping someone cares enough to drip their Eden into the palms of my neighbors If time will tell I’ve been getting quite the silent treatment Travel a little deeper and…. Cosmopolitan crossroads coexist with beggars and lost folk…. Since when was the speech divided between affluent and broke? "IDK?" The duality replies I thought you’d say that.

18

Your roots run thousands of years deep whether you’re proud or not, I haven’t heard it through the grapevine but I see you sitting still on this rotating axis mid-bloom, rising to my height rising with the Fahrenheit Look across, I’m with the cacao trees growing yet again, dying off yet again resurrecting yet again, growing, again on the same soil, we know the flavors of dust after biting worse we are neighboring streets but parallel worlds we are all closer than magnets can fathom with tempers of exploding atoms if ever pushed that far What would it take for you to see through my eyes? Well, could you race a maze the shape of brain creases and make it from start to finish in the time a fading wick will diminish but I’ll show you the routes put your heart in my compass and unlearn the pillars of your thoughts for a moment I’ll lay a darker foundation for you to build on, only for a moment, a sec, a yoctosecond and you can return to yourself Look me in the soul spit your lies on the asphalt exhale the truth and nothing but even if it burns on the way out of you it hurts me too But it’s just the air I breathe. We adjust. Like mother Earth, we adjust and keep growing, keep growing, keep growing, keep growing.

0

Jun 22, 2020

Jun 22, 2020 at 11:37 PM UTC

Cacao Tree

Your roots run thousands of years deep whether you’re proud or not, I haven’t heard it through the grapevine but I see you sitting still on this rotating axis mid-bloom, rising to my height rising with the Fahrenheit Look across, I’m with the cacao trees growing yet again, dying off yet again resurrecting yet again, growing, again on the same soil, we know the flavors of dust after biting worse we are neighboring streets but parallel worlds we are all closer than magnets can fathom with tempers of exploding atoms if ever pushed that far What would it take for you to see through my eyes? Well, could you race a maze the shape of brain creases and make it from start to finish in the time a fading wick will diminish but I’ll show you the routes put your heart in my compass and unlearn the pillars of your thoughts for a moment I’ll lay a darker foundation for you to build on, only for a moment, a sec, a yoctosecond and you can return to yourself Look me in the soul spit your lies on the asphalt exhale the truth and nothing but even if it burns on the way out of you it hurts me too But it’s just the air I breathe. We adjust. Like mother Earth, we adjust and keep growing, keep growing, keep growing, keep growing.

24

You howl across the smartphone speakers “unstable” I roar back, “healing.” Ah, semantics. You cling to definitions tighter than static Your arguments are magnets to my geyser: stuck, yet I flow on You build a face for the day, reinforce it, ready for the wrecking ***** in our vernacular nothing will shake your perspective your eyes are glasses to our periscope The things you’ve been told are just that and my illness doesn’t make me any less blood and bone any less ups and downs any less success and collapse than you despite what you’ve heard about depression from some friends or a Facebook post it’s more than a daily beast it’s a mountain to climb with only one arm and I’m on my way to stable footing You want to attach words like “lazy” and “uncaring” to my identity go ahead, I pick them off like fleas they can only drain me for as long as I let them. I will say “suffering” you might say “a lil’ sad” we both sit there, hoping truth blessed us with its language Only one thing is for certain. Whatever “it” may be It. Won’t. Stop. Me.

0

Feb 4, 2020

Feb 4, 2020 at 4:52 PM UTC

IT

You howl across the smartphone speakers “unstable” I roar back, “healing.” Ah, semantics. You cling to definitions tighter than static Your arguments are magnets to my geyser: stuck, yet I flow on You build a face for the day, reinforce it, ready for the wrecking ***** in our vernacular nothing will shake your perspective your eyes are glasses to our periscope The things you’ve been told are just that and my illness doesn’t make me any less blood and bone any less ups and downs any less success and collapse than you despite what you’ve heard about depression from some friends or a Facebook post it’s more than a daily beast it’s a mountain to climb with only one arm and I’m on my way to stable footing You want to attach words like “lazy” and “uncaring” to my identity go ahead, I pick them off like fleas they can only drain me for as long as I let them. I will say “suffering” you might say “a lil’ sad” we both sit there, hoping truth blessed us with its language Only one thing is for certain. Whatever “it” may be It. Won’t. Stop. Me.

33

Time slows down as per my humble request Pure water drips from a foreign planet's geyser Onto thirsty lips Three moons rise At that rare moment when a sun sits paralell Peaceful dawn Feet on greener lawns My broken mind breaks the silence When I tell you I love you more than a mountain loves to peak More than flames love to destroy More than a body loves an R E M state We sit and mourn the darker days for a second or two For their bright shards meant something too Went to just as many funerals as weddings I've seen families reunite on the same days a genocide makes headlines For every breakdown, the next day was a resolution For every ellipsis you read on my face Another day I won't shut up . . . I'll stay here a while I'll stay for another century Not coming back to Earth When the only thing waiting is a nuclear cavalry And touch screens leaking dopamine I know perfection is a myth But when you tell its story I believe And sleep in a hammock hanging between the letters of your "World'__'peace, one day." Quote turned to decibels turned to hope I taste it when we kiss You reach out a hand when I drift But I'm coming back Even when coming apart I'm always coming back.

0

Oct 19, 2019

Oct 19, 2019 at 10:51 AM UTC

R. E. M.

Time slows down as per my humble request Pure water drips from a foreign planet's geyser Onto thirsty lips Three moons rise At that rare moment when a sun sits paralell Peaceful dawn Feet on greener lawns My broken mind breaks the silence When I tell you I love you more than a mountain loves to peak More than flames love to destroy More than a body loves an R E M state We sit and mourn the darker days for a second or two For their bright shards meant something too Went to just as many funerals as weddings I've seen families reunite on the same days a genocide makes headlines For every breakdown, the next day was a resolution For every ellipsis you read on my face Another day I won't shut up . . . I'll stay here a while I'll stay for another century Not coming back to Earth When the only thing waiting is a nuclear cavalry And touch screens leaking dopamine I know perfection is a myth But when you tell its story I believe And sleep in a hammock hanging between the letters of your "World'__'peace, one day." Quote turned to decibels turned to hope I taste it when we kiss You reach out a hand when I drift But I'm coming back Even when coming apart I'm always coming back.

35

The government’s up early in the morning hours before my dreams said their last words ~~I wiped off the cosmos from my consciousness~~ our leaders are up, digging for mechanical gold that sweet fuel for the machines and their automated wealth today, their shovels disrupt Alaskan wildlife refuges tomorrow, your backyard but I’m waking up way later, following the sunrise as an unemployed, unashamed, unresolved and un-unified whole, unpredictable, unfitting man with a wallet full of poems packed tighter than an Earth with twice our population yet still writing without hesitation still drifting in and out of your perception in and out of adjacent trains stumbling over career paths until I land on my face and look up wiping the gravel off hazy eyelids to see the road and then footsteps become moments which become monuments upon which I build a future unseen one day, we will all be free.

0

Oct 18, 2019

Oct 18, 2019 at 8:09 PM UTC

unemployed

The government’s up early in the morning hours before my dreams said their last words ~~I wiped off the cosmos from my consciousness~~ our leaders are up, digging for mechanical gold that sweet fuel for the machines and their automated wealth today, their shovels disrupt Alaskan wildlife refuges tomorrow, your backyard but I’m waking up way later, following the sunrise as an unemployed, unashamed, unresolved and un-unified whole, unpredictable, unfitting man with a wallet full of poems packed tighter than an Earth with twice our population yet still writing without hesitation still drifting in and out of your perception in and out of adjacent trains stumbling over career paths until I land on my face and look up wiping the gravel off hazy eyelids to see the road and then footsteps become moments which become monuments upon which I build a future unseen one day, we will all be free.

21

You ask me if I’ve tasted defeat no I’ve swallowed it whole and the digestion resulted in apprehension to any path I can’t crawl my way through It’s ironic the brain travels three thousand miles per minute even as the body sits as still as Ice Age mountains so my solution is to taste victory on golden platters in a dream sequence the pattern is seamless I’ve learned about suffering but would never teach it A man like me could never lead, despite the absence of light that follows but enough about aorta chambers left hollow, tell me of your timeline what have you tasted what has life left in your wallet in your bed side in your lungs in your goodbyes in your smiles tell me what you know of reality and the singularity, our humble beginnings tell me anything to distract me from the hours, the minutes, the seconds and every inch of my taste buds. Please.

0

Oct 18, 2019

Oct 18, 2019 at 8:03 PM UTC

Taste Buds

You ask me if I’ve tasted defeat no I’ve swallowed it whole and the digestion resulted in apprehension to any path I can’t crawl my way through It’s ironic the brain travels three thousand miles per minute even as the body sits as still as Ice Age mountains so my solution is to taste victory on golden platters in a dream sequence the pattern is seamless I’ve learned about suffering but would never teach it A man like me could never lead, despite the absence of light that follows but enough about aorta chambers left hollow, tell me of your timeline what have you tasted what has life left in your wallet in your bed side in your lungs in your goodbyes in your smiles tell me what you know of reality and the singularity, our humble beginnings tell me anything to distract me from the hours, the minutes, the seconds and every inch of my taste buds. Please.

20