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 Sep 2015
irinia
so-in-time-so-inside or
as inside so in time
the plasma of thoughts far away
there in the spaces without meaning
the sprouts of faceless darkness
and systoles without time
I step from one silence into the other
and unshaped my body sings
I am babysitting my heart while the light loses its weight
on my shoulder
time is a pocket and I can hear only my blood

the luxury of mending this piece with that one
I am so complete when I am my feet
sometimes I don’t need a name
no need for one way roads
when quietly the dark sprouts me
and the days pass
without complaining
 Sep 2015
Cali
Listless airwaves
wreak havoc across
my sun scorched
landscape.

I bend into
snapdragon
position,
lilt like August wheat
and regroup,
regenerate
my amphibious
limbs.

But I am not bold
or strong
or any of those things
that you said
when you were trying
to talk me back
from the precipice
of my jagged mind.

I am pigeon toed
and meek,
stuffing sticky sweet
secrets
into the cracks
of my palms
and turning my face away
from the lights.

I am not,
I am not
any of those things
that you said,

but I'm trying;
 Aug 2015
irinia
My curves are not mad.
Henri Matisse, *Jazz


when silence gives away its name
birds become electric
darkness is no more a story
in their wooden beaks
I stay at the beginning of thought,
decelerate reality
again and again
bread, pain, blindness
truth visits me in my dreams
sometimes
between desire & dying
shortcuts, blind alleys
Shangri-La and Valhalla
Nirvana & the hunting ground
Guadalupe
untitled self-portraits
fast heights
blinds & shutters
Spinoza's abyss
the chasm of reason
Kant's please mind the gap
pits of harmony
barren grounds
Prigogine's broken circle
lost aesthetic qualities
and the bit moves on

when silence is an unfinished canvas
waters, faces make an offering
and their names grow
when I am confused with the possibility
of the sea level
then I know where
my love
is

splitting every single second
is beauty
unadorned
could I remove the decimal point
from my dying breath
?
 Jun 2015
irinia
words are a breaking through
from non-linearity of colours
hard to endure the abyss of green
the mind produces the world in excess
extending thought to the point of boiling
a breath of fresh air comes from the other side
a struggling music in the streets
cracked with wanting
sometimes it rains with desire
and neuroticised eyes
the politics of need is coined
in the land of no answers

I am an orphan of desire
my rightful eye is busy
farming for myself
new territories
the master and the slave are linked
by nails
and watery hopes

forget your words
there is silk over waters
there is more space
for immersion

I am an orphan
without my desire
to love
all the siren calls
devouring thoughts
of you
 May 2015
irinia
Surfer Grandson Smoker
Manager Traveler Father
Daughter Cook Teacher
Mother Reader Lover
Trainer Son Painter
Volunteer Exhibitionist
Santa Claus
member of a fishermen club
tomorrow
or you name it
if you still have air

we left ourselves outside
alone with these explosive days
blind witnesses
have buried their faces
into the desert of time
the concentration of pain
remains a universal constant
the world is a helpless arena
of master plan illusions
what shall I become
or what shall be consumed of me?

and these rupture faults
body-dynamite against ego-dynamite
culture crushing nature versus
nature crushing culture
the soul famine
in the book
of unknown faces

we were all just enlivened cells once

while we feast in our blood
the discreet continuities
remain hidden
identity encapsulated
in the wave length
of supernovas egos

poetry is left with this
apparent nonsense
camomile turns into laughter
and the pride of butterflies
deserves better

this rhythm consumes us
faster than the speed of dreams
the speed of thought
the speed of forgetting
how our mothers
were never healed

to be or not to be simple
that’s a question
 May 2015
Brycical
I am a cloud breaker
because the sun is always with me,
tattooed on my back.
Even at night I can see silver linings.

I am an earth shaker--
cackling, quaking laughs crack surfaces
above, and so below
of flesh and rock like lava's burning, gurgling grace.

I am a light maker.
Warm words spark & ignite dried, dusty leaves
forgotten or ignored,
clearing paths for new gardens to feast upon the sunlight.

I'm a flow waker,
building bridges of effervescent electric irrigation
with hugs between our eyes and hearts,
nourishing, cleansing bodies.
 Mar 2015
Blue Angel
I build my walls but you break them down
I put my hands up but you bring them down 
I push you away but you keep running back
Why? You don't deserve me, I'm a mess, i confess, I can't let you see this
It's not who I really am, you deserve better
 Feb 2015
Miss Havisham
Tea time is not how it used to be,—
full of gaiety and life.
Only now, it's full of woe,
and tears drip into my cup.
One day, perhaps soon,
all alone, tea time shall return again—
to being a cheerful occasion.
I go on thinking what tea time could have been like.

-M.H.-
 Feb 2015
Nat Lipstadt
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/759808/nat-lipstadts-mood-swings/


'ᏰέƦẙḽԃṏሁ's the most "unappreciated" poet on this site.
Being "misunderstood" is what gets him into a fight.
Now that I'm retired and free,
He's the new "King" of HP ~
Now I hate that Jew because he's better and right.
All words in quotes are Nat's. His changes his opinion of me every second like the eyes on a Felix the Cat clock.
I love him but I've given up on him.

-------------------
Poor man he believes his own totally manufactured press. Oy!

Why does he obsess over me?
Ask him, not me...

Why does write me in pvt messages to tell me I am "delusional" and he is by page view,  the Emperor(!) of HP and that
"you've become an embittered man and can counted yourself among the cursed.
And if you've chosen not to read this, it's because your blinders are still on.I wish you well as a fellow Jew; as a poet I welcome you're  extinction for your inability to adapt."

Whoa! Is he worse than Ormond, who only wanted to "burn" us together!  Extinction now that is  a code word makes  every Jewish person's hair curly,

The humorous answer would have the
Lew I like laughingly say "***** envy!"

adapt to his standards, of ******* up and publishing outrageously bad poems sux times a day - no babe, those things are not standards


instead he is he is committing a error of sinat chinam, empty hatred...

"Sinat chinam means groundless hatred. (The verb soneh means to hate, as in the command lo tisnah at ahicha blevavecha, do not hate your brother in your heart, Leviticus19:17)

Chinam comes from chen, grace. Sinat chinam is therefore hatred that is gratis. It refers to the internecine strife which is unfortunately too common in Jewish communities, whether between Reform and Orthodox, Ashkenazim and Sephardim, the rabbi and the chazan, the president of the shul and the board.

You could charitably ascribe its existence to the high-stakes decisions that Jewish communities have had to make, or to a persecuted people internalising the hatred directed at them, and then projecting it against other groups of Jews. (emphasis mine).  Either way, there is clearly too much of it about.

The Talmud already knew of the phenomenon and its destructive effect on Jewish life. Yoma 9b records that the First Temple was burned down because of idol worship, ****** immorality and bloodshed. At the time of the Second Temples destruction, the Jews were, on the other hand, pious but the Temple was lost because sinat chinam, groundless hatred, was endemic to Jewish national life."

But since he is self acclaimed Shakespeare expert,
I'm sure  he is familiar with this riposte:

The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
‘T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthronèd in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must needs give sentence ‘gainst the merchant there.


Merchant of Venice

More would be superfluous...sure glad he loves me, imagine if he didn't!

what waste of a good poetry skills... this is getting snoring,
boring... So let's bring some appropriate lyrics with which to conclude:

"You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you
You're so vain, I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? don't you?"

Carly Simon - You're So Vain Lyrics
in the movie Patton, there is a scene here,  Patton tells Gen. Omar Bradley (and I am paraphrasing here) in his rivalry with the pompous General Montgomery to get Eisenhower to pick  his  invasion plan,  Patton tell modest Bradley that he knows they are  both arrogant SOB's but what make him crazy is that Montgomery won't admit it...and he can...love you too babe, like I love my BVD's and certain parts of you..which I leave to your lewrid imagination to ascertain...Peace brother! To then own self, be true, you marvelous schmuck!
 Jan 2015
irinia
"And the heart is hard to translate"

I rush every sunset in its pit of blood
I hold your absence with my bear hands
As the center of the silence I can give to myself
Some impressions of my thoughts of you
Uncertainties embodied by swords
Are roaming the streets in my place
The mirrors chased me away
They refuse to deepen the light
Refuse the clarity of a day
When I am a simple woman
When you are a simple man
I have to prepare my escape routes
Since your fingers smell of apples
The air is full of chemicals
And I stare at the intoxicating hope
My curses explode in hourglasses
There must be a misunderstanding
why did I promise to myself
my heart,
your hell,
our dance,
the resurrection
of naivety
in this body?

perhaps there is no doubt:
I can only love you
       or
I can love only you


and no
yet
but
(shh, oh, my foolish heart!)
 Jan 2015
Sarah Marie
Days where I'm okay
Drift apart like the glaciers,
Melting can't be fixed.
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