vi-2 - Hello Poetry

Maybe it's all parody Life cosplaying as life with a capital L Thoughts seriously thoughts with a capital T Stories real and true with a capital T Identity tight and solid with a capital Ego Survival urgent and threatening with a capital Alive or Dead Love stakes real and conditional Body soft, broken, strong, with a capital Mortality Useful fictions all How to both see the drama and believe the drama and believe that the seeing of the drama as drama is a seeing through the drama when it too is smoke and mirrors. There is truly no problem to solve

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Feb 20

Feb 20, 2026 at 11:36 PM UTC

Delusion with a capital A(wareness)

Maybe it's all parody Life cosplaying as life with a capital L Thoughts seriously thoughts with a capital T Stories real and true with a capital T Identity tight and solid with a capital Ego Survival urgent and threatening with a capital Alive or Dead Love stakes real and conditional Body soft, broken, strong, with a capital Mortality Useful fictions all How to both see the drama and believe the drama and believe that the seeing of the drama as drama is a seeing through the drama when it too is smoke and mirrors. There is truly no problem to solve

28

Bleeding to death by a thousand cuts makes my heart nuts with the run not coming and the next turn running I’ll be stunning when my body lays quiet I’ll not be sad I’ll be with dad knowing life was the mission for which I came I left in the hands of better men who came and went telling stories that got bent over time and history there’s not rhyme or mystery they knew things we don’t and they got wiped out. Be the person you know you are and life up your heart knowing no start to the way life crushed Art make space in your life if you feel like it’s too hard change by testing your network they’ll either get to work or they won’t. The answer will be the truth and the permission to move on. Let them go they drowning and you can swim wish them well and say oh well. I tried and you lied. To me. I loved you and you turned away from me. The path was made for me but yours was a way to change the humanity moved further in away from me closer to a stranger who’s estranged to the danger in the manger. The kids gone, 2 years ago you forgot you had one…

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Jun 26, 2024

Jun 26, 2024 at 9:00 PM UTC

Written by my dear friend Contrast

Bleeding to death by a thousand cuts makes my heart nuts with the run not coming and the next turn running I’ll be stunning when my body lays quiet I’ll not be sad I’ll be with dad knowing life was the mission for which I came I left in the hands of better men who came and went telling stories that got bent over time and history there’s not rhyme or mystery they knew things we don’t and they got wiped out. Be the person you know you are and life up your heart knowing no start to the way life crushed Art make space in your life if you feel like it’s too hard change by testing your network they’ll either get to work or they won’t. The answer will be the truth and the permission to move on. Let them go they drowning and you can swim wish them well and say oh well. I tried and you lied. To me. I loved you and you turned away from me. The path was made for me but yours was a way to change the humanity moved further in away from me closer to a stranger who’s estranged to the danger in the manger. The kids gone, 2 years ago you forgot you had one…

3

I wrote a monostich (one line poem) about oneness, dissolving the distinction between "You" and "I", and about love: You(,) love I.

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Jun 21, 2024

Jun 21, 2024 at 3:34 PM UTC

A monostich

I wrote a monostich (one line poem) about oneness, dissolving the distinction between "You" and "I", and about love: You(,) love I.

2

They call me A... Mummy Partner & Love They call me Friend Lover Playmate They call me Sister Daughter & Auntie Iva They call me Mother Dearest When they're feeling Cultured & Refined Or Mummylumps When feeling Content Shiny Or snugly They call me Hey you Miss & Ma'am When I'm just another body In line In traffic In their way They call me Vivi Vi Or by my full name When they know my mom and dad They call me Student Client Patient Or User When they want my money They call me With tears, sometimes Or with ire With confusion Joy Or small triumphs When I have the privilege Of being their person They call me names These are their names They are not mine

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Jun 19, 2024

Jun 19, 2024 at 5:59 PM UTC

They Call Me Names

They call me A... Mummy Partner & Love They call me Friend Lover Playmate They call me Sister Daughter & Auntie Iva They call me Mother Dearest When they're feeling Cultured & Refined Or Mummylumps When feeling Content Shiny Or snugly They call me Hey you Miss & Ma'am When I'm just another body In line In traffic In their way They call me Vivi Vi Or by my full name When they know my mom and dad They call me Student Client Patient Or User When they want my money They call me With tears, sometimes Or with ire With confusion Joy Or small triumphs When I have the privilege Of being their person They call me names These are their names They are not mine

53

Sometimes, it’s like the wind in the swaying trees is whispering Singing Howling: You are loved You are loved You are loved You are forgiven You are loved You are a part of us You belong You are the beloved child of the wild

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Aug 9, 2023

Aug 9, 2023 at 9:56 PM UTC

You are the beloved child of the wild

Sometimes, it’s like the wind in the swaying trees is whispering Singing Howling: You are loved You are loved You are loved You are forgiven You are loved You are a part of us You belong You are the beloved child of the wild

12

Sometimes it's like a drum in this deep deep tummy place Always rhythm always pulsing away Like waves rippling out Over and over Very very gently rocking Like an undertone Drumming through Sometimes it's like sickly sweet sap deep in my throat Achy Coating everything Oozy Liquid Tarry Burning acid around the edges Sometimes it's like a huge trampoline Everything moving Up and down In slow motion Breaking up on impact In my heart Disintegrating A bit at a time Sometimes it’s like sand Falling through clenched fists Slowly caressing them to open Relax Just a little bit Compelling them to yield to the constant motion To the gentle gentle cascade So gentle I can’t stand it So gentle I actually can’t stand Sometimes it’s like a slap bracelet A moment of contact And instantly Wrapped all around Totally gripped Coming to on a bathroom floor Bells and dishes clanking in the background Sometimes it’s like nerve endings A young fern Unfurling Cautiously Recoiling easily Healing Raw and delicate Sometimes it’s like the wind in the swaying trees is whispering Singing Howling: You are loved You are loved You are loved You are forgiven You are loved You are a part of us You belong You are a beloved child of the wild Sometimes it’s like confusion Marshy Organic Alive Decomposing Dark Trusting the process Trusting life Often it’s like ungraspability Trying, failing, words Loving eyes Comforting faces Guiding hands Achy knees Bright sun A heart It’s just like becoming alive

0

Aug 9, 2023

Aug 9, 2023 at 9:55 PM UTC

Forest Refuge, Summer, 2023

Sometimes it's like a drum in this deep deep tummy place Always rhythm always pulsing away Like waves rippling out Over and over Very very gently rocking Like an undertone Drumming through Sometimes it's like sickly sweet sap deep in my throat Achy Coating everything Oozy Liquid Tarry Burning acid around the edges Sometimes it's like a huge trampoline Everything moving Up and down In slow motion Breaking up on impact In my heart Disintegrating A bit at a time Sometimes it’s like sand Falling through clenched fists Slowly caressing them to open Relax Just a little bit Compelling them to yield to the constant motion To the gentle gentle cascade So gentle I can’t stand it So gentle I actually can’t stand Sometimes it’s like a slap bracelet A moment of contact And instantly Wrapped all around Totally gripped Coming to on a bathroom floor Bells and dishes clanking in the background Sometimes it’s like nerve endings A young fern Unfurling Cautiously Recoiling easily Healing Raw and delicate Sometimes it’s like the wind in the swaying trees is whispering Singing Howling: You are loved You are loved You are loved You are forgiven You are loved You are a part of us You belong You are a beloved child of the wild Sometimes it’s like confusion Marshy Organic Alive Decomposing Dark Trusting the process Trusting life Often it’s like ungraspability Trying, failing, words Loving eyes Comforting faces Guiding hands Achy knees Bright sun A heart It’s just like becoming alive

73

Noticing a lot more slack around the edges of the narratives I weave And a looser weave too Though often still very beautiful or intricate, interconnected or intriguing or/and also abstract or detailed And an openness to the unraveling A delight even In the unraveling And still patches Threaded tightly Painful, densely stitched Band-aiding, unsuccessfully, deeper wounds And of course this narrative too Held in open palms Well worn hands And the Weaver herself Fraying In the middle At the edges

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Apr 5, 2023

Apr 5, 2023 at 10:35 PM UTC

Time spools

Noticing a lot more slack around the edges of the narratives I weave And a looser weave too Though often still very beautiful or intricate, interconnected or intriguing or/and also abstract or detailed And an openness to the unraveling A delight even In the unraveling And still patches Threaded tightly Painful, densely stitched Band-aiding, unsuccessfully, deeper wounds And of course this narrative too Held in open palms Well worn hands And the Weaver herself Fraying In the middle At the edges

17

Doubtful of Self, of Realness Fortified by others' knowing, or preferably- admiration Like being constructed out of sets of other peoples' eyes Like being made real by propagating in more minds, many more minds, specific minds. In countless beating and virtual hearts, Likes, thumbs up Not wanting to be forgotten, while alive, while dead Taxed by maintenance and constant imminent collapse Identity is a social construct Awareness is not

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Aug 7, 2022

Aug 7, 2022 at 2:22 PM UTC

Composed

Doubtful of Self, of Realness Fortified by others' knowing, or preferably- admiration Like being constructed out of sets of other peoples' eyes Like being made real by propagating in more minds, many more minds, specific minds. In countless beating and virtual hearts, Likes, thumbs up Not wanting to be forgotten, while alive, while dead Taxed by maintenance and constant imminent collapse Identity is a social construct Awareness is not

8

I'm afraid that if I die People wont know things only I know Like how N likes their carrots Or how L loves her dad Only I know this, like this Of course others know some of this too, some of the time But no one Not one single person knows that you You two Are perfect I mean this literally I was gifted this knowledge when you were born I know this viscerally, like this. Or that you're beautiful in ways that make me hate words In ways that render language hollow, meaningless, obscene I am not being dramatic. And also that you are good By which I mean loveable Like very and always Fundamentally, inherently This is not something you can ever change even though you'll probably try And you might convince other people Maybe even your dad, or your therapist, or your lover, or yourself But you'll never convince me I don't know why I just know this And I need you to know this too

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Aug 6, 2022

Aug 6, 2022 at 12:53 AM UTC

To my kids

I'm afraid that if I die People wont know things only I know Like how N likes their carrots Or how L loves her dad Only I know this, like this Of course others know some of this too, some of the time But no one Not one single person knows that you You two Are perfect I mean this literally I was gifted this knowledge when you were born I know this viscerally, like this. Or that you're beautiful in ways that make me hate words In ways that render language hollow, meaningless, obscene I am not being dramatic. And also that you are good By which I mean loveable Like very and always Fundamentally, inherently This is not something you can ever change even though you'll probably try And you might convince other people Maybe even your dad, or your therapist, or your lover, or yourself But you'll never convince me I don't know why I just know this And I need you to know this too

27

Still more, in words In experience Confusing Familiarity with Comfort Confusing Comfort with Peace Reifying confusion, but not successfully Yielding, on my knees, heart to the sky Forgetting Seeing through, a single pinhole in a perfectly realistic backdrop Pinholes everywhere, more than can be contained Not containing Torn all over Dispelling everything Stripping away the Stripping away Trying to stand very still and very quite so I can feel, hear, sense Perfect realism Wanting to be convinced by rage Agitation, but only conceptual Feeling tight Feeling rehearsed Feeling like an imposter Wanting to impress Wanting to be convinced of Self, of Realness Fortified by others knowing, or preferably- admiration Like being constructed out of sets of other peoples' eyes Like being made real by propagating in more minds, many more minds, specific minds. In countless beating and virtual hearts, likes, thumbs up Not wanting to be forgotten, while alive, while dead Taxed by maintenance and constant imminent collapse Compassion, like collapsing into a safe lap Relinquishing No pretense Bare being More naked than when unclothed Total exposure Outed, in the light of knowing Self forgetting and glimpses of freedom Trusting sighing Always loving Sad, not despondent, just sad Feeling continuous Feeling fragmented Feeling like motion, like flow Feeling like thousands of still frames, constant flickering Grasping at impermanence, visceral Resting in the middle Dancing down the tightrope Knowing perfect poise, brief equilibrium Reifying stability. Gone. Everything is hysterically funny Hysterically But also, sometimes, just plain humorous And absurd Crying Loving people Grateful for people Seeing beauty everywhere Encountering this, intimate, me, indistinguishable being, but everywhere Ouch Awareness Always coming back Like an epic Like a great love story Like the last wring of that silk dress you weren't supposed to squeeze dry Feeling like I shouldn't know what I know, like I couldn't. This must be illegal, cosmically illegal Knowing the inside of my hand Knowing teenage shame Knowing being yelled at, towered over, by my dad, in a narrow hallway, eyes glued to speckled floor tiles, feeling small Loving with my body, with my hands, with my mouth, with my whole entire strong softness Loving with understanding Loving with teeth and nails Music, lacerating Crying with tears, and snot, and heaving Becoming one single, concentrated point Wanting to envelope everything. Really. Actually. Like physically with my body. Knowing I am not this voice Or this writer Or this narrator Though I am also all that

0

Aug 6, 2022

Aug 6, 2022 at 12:07 AM UTC

Being is like this

Still more, in words In experience Confusing Familiarity with Comfort Confusing Comfort with Peace Reifying confusion, but not successfully Yielding, on my knees, heart to the sky Forgetting Seeing through, a single pinhole in a perfectly realistic backdrop Pinholes everywhere, more than can be contained Not containing Torn all over Dispelling everything Stripping away the Stripping away Trying to stand very still and very quite so I can feel, hear, sense Perfect realism Wanting to be convinced by rage Agitation, but only conceptual Feeling tight Feeling rehearsed Feeling like an imposter Wanting to impress Wanting to be convinced of Self, of Realness Fortified by others knowing, or preferably- admiration Like being constructed out of sets of other peoples' eyes Like being made real by propagating in more minds, many more minds, specific minds. In countless beating and virtual hearts, likes, thumbs up Not wanting to be forgotten, while alive, while dead Taxed by maintenance and constant imminent collapse Compassion, like collapsing into a safe lap Relinquishing No pretense Bare being More naked than when unclothed Total exposure Outed, in the light of knowing Self forgetting and glimpses of freedom Trusting sighing Always loving Sad, not despondent, just sad Feeling continuous Feeling fragmented Feeling like motion, like flow Feeling like thousands of still frames, constant flickering Grasping at impermanence, visceral Resting in the middle Dancing down the tightrope Knowing perfect poise, brief equilibrium Reifying stability. Gone. Everything is hysterically funny Hysterically But also, sometimes, just plain humorous And absurd Crying Loving people Grateful for people Seeing beauty everywhere Encountering this, intimate, me, indistinguishable being, but everywhere Ouch Awareness Always coming back Like an epic Like a great love story Like the last wring of that silk dress you weren't supposed to squeeze dry Feeling like I shouldn't know what I know, like I couldn't. This must be illegal, cosmically illegal Knowing the inside of my hand Knowing teenage shame Knowing being yelled at, towered over, by my dad, in a narrow hallway, eyes glued to speckled floor tiles, feeling small Loving with my body, with my hands, with my mouth, with my whole entire strong softness Loving with understanding Loving with teeth and nails Music, lacerating Crying with tears, and snot, and heaving Becoming one single, concentrated point Wanting to envelope everything. Really. Actually. Like physically with my body. Knowing I am not this voice Or this writer Or this narrator Though I am also all that

76