this poem is intentionally bad on purpose

Thou, shall I compare, then,
to a sunmer day?
as that it is that thy art splendiferous in a way of which
i cannot thee abate

so bright is your effusion
that it shines
and they say that it’s light that’s divinely fine

if a red rose can’t be sweet without it’s thorns
your complexion around which all beauty dost be adorned
girl you make me feel so incredibly warm
and fuzzy inside
i don’t need to watch ****

id rather talk to you and i can tell you that that is true
because before we were one and now we make 2
but im so close to you girl i think it might actually be true
we were one all along but now were won that’s new

i know we just met on tinder the other day
but bae
please tell me forever that you will stay

i find myself moved by the beauty and ubiquity of love
eternally grateful for this life and all its feelings
to intimately coalesce with many layers and frequencies
of vibrations of consciousness
and to expand alongside them, relax and welcome grace

i believe that is what it means to be a healer
i am not manipulating energy
i am loving it and seeing it
simply opening myself to be there with it
and experience a transformation to openness

i will not spill or pour my heart out
i will leave it open;
live like a river flowing to the ocean
i will hum with this universe’s rhythms
dance in the elegance of its motions
i will commune with it

i have grown this year from seeing tremendous beauty
in an overarching force of pristine divinity
emanating through the Love vibration unto me,
and feeling blessed to be loved by Love
to finding that very feeling in my open heart,
expressed to this whole, vast and wonderful existence

I will be there with it
I will be there

A pain in the chest
corresponds with a thought
which responds to the heart
clarifying:

“I do not condone evil
but embrace the many selves within
the reality of self diverging.

There is no seat of self;
no place where being rests.
There is flowing, growing,
expanding forever
in reiteration.”

The elusive mystery
that’s split so I can see
with both eyes.

The merging
of the heart
within the mind.

To feel,
a bubble round the brain
containing memories
of souls sustained,
in ethereal suspension.

To think,
in cognizant alignment
with the heart,
acting upon pulse
and impulse.

Creating resonant sounds;
echoes upon
the proverbial mountain range.

Mirrors mirroring mirrors;
with an inward breath, a deeper drink;
to sink within the soul,
and feel the whole, instilled in stillness.

To be, through becoming
in dialogue diverging;
the everflow bestowing
presence amongst transience.

I am All as I am Nothing.
A seeing thing, believing
that the tapestry is me;
the shifts becoming being,
illusory.

I am pings of energy,
resounding in a field of ripples,
communicating notes
of an intricate, endless song.

I am right where I belong.

This is me:
sediment eroding
in the current of consciousness
coalescing with Life’s
astounding breath.

This is me:
salt of the sea,
oversaturated.

Forming crystalline structures,
in perfect cubic geometry,
refracting light and energy;
protecting.

This is me:
reality unfurling;
elements disintegrating
into quintessential, natural information.

This is me:
consciousness in conception;
forming will from flow
with no direction.

This is You.
It is me, too.
But we are one,

look into
another’s eyes
and see the sun reflecting.

We are light beings;
fragments of reality
dissecting

everything.

Miracles of being in transpiring.
Precipitations on the cycle
of the endless ocean.

My love is the one

that saturates awestruck passion

making the heart swell

with transformative gasps of divinity



My love is the weight of water

suspended in the air

It is windswept, soft caressing;

Spirit’s soothing whisper in mine ear



My love entombs itself in deep mind

Loses itself to the pool of rhythmic vibration

interspersing, simulated, soulful synchronization



My love is life finding Life finding soul

The sweetness of consciousness becoming conscious

of itself in everything else, of liquid light brimming through,

to coalesce, and impress softness into



My love is poetry wherein

we beautiful beings becoming

had to invent the very word 



To encapsulate the indescribable

that exists in that feeling

of transcending survival 



To find the divine in the usual

Sun and moon in me

river of light and ocean of emotion
always spilling over pulchritudinous petals
of the unfurling lotus of energy

til comes the withering of flowers
when love ceases to flow
inertia, become inert
dormant in my hurt
i shrivel
so

now in night, when i sleep,
the mind unwinds there in the deep
my hidden, hollow heart it keeps

a home, alone, within me
aching emptily
in nightmarish symmetry
i view myself, unruly

but I know I am alone
to undertake the healing
of the heart I call my home
to fill me up again

so in the light of day I rise
open my mind
and beckon starlight

to shine a beacon through me
connecting everything to nothing
Earthbound energy in true reunion
with the cosmic overflow

Balancing duality of being
love of light, and darkest night
in honoring and seeing
my virtues and my plight
my stardust, gleaming

Alchemizing mind, body and soul;

effervescence, as the salt of the earth
dissolves in the endless ocean
restoring emotion
allowing tears to flow freely
once again

Here comes the drum of the unconsumed
through mountains churning under burning moon
from the open eye of a sky attuned
to the stars in the mind of a magical loon

He sings to the rain; it’s said he’s rot in the brain,
but the madman sees what the people flee;
sees the thrum of the pulse of the ancient trees
through the veins where the life flows of each lived thing

Cast their pain to the wind and he breathes it in
and it drips from his tongue, and the earth drinks sin
but the stars in his heart sparkle out from within, 

cause the madman transposes chagrin

In the haste of a world that unfurls by the sun
neath the moon of the loon is the veil undone
as he watches the stars turn an hour a tick
by the fire whence transpires, his an endless wick

So, tho judge ye will, he cannot be killed
for he’s traced all space with delightful trill
tho an empty man, he has had his fill
for the madman belongs to the moon

my heart yearns
in shouts that span the sky
but i found love stumbling
into a hole in the wall

in a momentary interaction
vanishing

maybe there is hope for me yet

God is a face with no name; 
a whisper in the breeze; 
the hum of insects in a forest 
aglow with the first rays 
of the soft light of dawn. 

God is the vibration 
of everything as one. 
The emotion of a heart 
awake but breaking, 
choosing instead 
to carry on. 

God is the transcendence of hope, 
when faith is another day; 
the present moment fleeting; 
making the most of the lives we have 
before they slip so fragilely 
through our fingers. 

Yet, in this swelling of divinity, 
we do not cling… 
We cherish but let go, 
because we know 
that we must grow, 
thereto bestow 
our pearls of wisdom 
onto the future 
living in our dreams. 

We are aflame with inexhaustible spirit. 
We are chock-full of life and love 
and we owe it all to the immensity of being. 

How full we’ve all felt. 
How we’ve striven 
to leave ourselves empty, 
not knowing what it means 
to long for life in our wizening. 

We only want to be whole. 
God is forgetting, and forgiving 
ourselves for what we lack, 
and what we are or what we aren’t. 

God is the intangible spirit 
of knowing we are whole 
in our very melting. 

That through the coursing, 
and the melding 
of ever present energies, 
we belong to something greater 
than ourselves. 

God is ALL. 
God is One. 
God is none, 
for we are he are thee. 
We’ve split ourselves to many. 
To let life be lived aplenty. 

So dream, 
my dear past, dream. 
Soon you shall see. 
Soon you shall 
remember me. 

Maddening, I know. 
Yet, with every step, 
we manifest.
With every step we grow.

I am in hiding from the unabashed sun

The clouds drift overhead and shade my view

But every time it peeks out from behind

I rear my eyes, I stay inside, 

but through the windows

It tickles my face

Licks at my watering eyes

Laughing at me



I am sad on this beautiful day

I am alone and cherishing things not had
Wishing for a friend

Lively conversation

Beauteous, poetic, saturated melody

To serenade the natural landscape

A sprawling painting

A perfect illustration of untamed uniformity

Alas
I am
Fettered in a box

Rotting away

As my eyes gain weight
but never alleviate

Their dams and turn to drying

I am an auric legacy of inexplicable secrets

of nearly saying what I mean,

but not quite having the words to speak it


I am a haze of feeling that fears the density

required to express the things
that truly make sense to me 



I am the internal rambling of a mind maddening itself

and the breadth of peace found in spiritual wealth

I am an analyzing inner voice without a choice

but to spew, spew, spew

just to observe the words as they keep flowing through


and I think that’s what I’m supposed to do 


I’m not attached to me or you;

it’s all just passing by

like gems of light as ripples on the blue



They never hear me clearly

they’re too busy pondering what they might say

and most often interrupting me
before I’ve had my stay

so I’m forced out again,

back into the echo chamber:

 “thought prison” 



Ironically, more liberated here than I could ever be

in someone else’s ear,
at least that’s what my ego’s telling me 

but so alone when I’m unheard,
no place is home amongst the herd


My thoughts are spurred in too many different directions

to understand the single minded group inspired predilection 

spreading through the collective like an infection

but it only scratches the surface



Deep beneath, I know the verses
,
hear the rhythm, feel the flow 

I know it grows
 like starlight
in the night, expanding


Such a natural thing
,
so I’ll just keep listening

I take a step back

and I hold my breath

and I cherish it



I exhale

and I let go

and life ebbs

and life flows



I breathe it in again

believing all is real

in this temporary moment



A blurred snapshot of time

not beholden to memory

a simple blip against

a backdrop
 


swallowing 
me



And I exist

in those high-speed moments

when fear sets in

fully immersed, yet

unaware, 



when soft light pulses

to a beating city heart

on thoroughfares

in summer nights,



that we are

preciously enlivened

by that hurried energy

in a vast and eerie

cold, dead

peace

I used to see the world
through jaded eyes;
my life comprised
of fear and scarcity.

I soaked up all the pain
I could retain
til nought was clear to me.

I died inside and every day,
I’d rise again to meet dismay,
but somewhere on the road
everything changed.
Now I’m walking merrily.

It is the people I have found
who show me life can be profound,
and I know now that all around me
there is poetry.

It resonates, and it is a melody
in harmony with your song.
You resonate,
and you write an ode to it.

You serenade it,
embody its energy,
match its frequency
with your whole being.

It resonates with you,
and it is a tune,
and you are complete.

You resonate with it
and you are open, empty,
ready to eat of its fruit;
become a part of it
as it becomes a part of you.

Am I too rigid in my windiness?
Am I too mutable to coalesce?
Too stuck on shifting with the breeze
to be mellifluous?

Am I a one man band
against a symphony
of endlessness?

I say it resonates,
but I’m expressed;
removed from zephyr
and born as breath.

A ‘more’, amor,
but nothing more
than breadth
without substance

When confronted with the inexplicable,
the human mind seeks to rationalize, 
explain,
and fit information into an established worldview.

When confronted with the incomprehensible, the mind recoils. 

It shrinks into and attempts to consume itself.

You cannot wrap self over self.
You cannot become the outer and the inner.
You are but a superposition of the visage of God;
a superficial reflection of divinity’s affection.

You cannot become the subconscious
of your subconscious.
You cannot become the intuition
of your intuition.  

You can shed the mind and be present.

You can breathe and connect
and form a circuit between;
be a conduit for varying information
of different vibrations and intensities.

Form a loop that spells infinity.

This transition is the interstitium;
where information acts synaptic;
where transference relays occurrence
between two spaces with different interfaces.

It is elastic.
It is magic in liminal plastic,
snapping back and creating
the dialogue with self.

It is a circuit of convergence
where purpose meets inertia.
It is neither beginning nor end.
It is betwixt real and pretend.

It can upend the rend
of space and face;
time and place, and waste and worth.

It interweaves the world with dreams
and breathes new life into your needs.
It knows you without knowing anything.

It knows your feelings,
and the concepts you can’t speak.
It is your mind not minding.
Infinity across dividing.

The sudden epiphany of absurdity

when reality has a way of mirroring us

like a funhouse



That explosion of laughter

and the relief that comes with it:

that it’s not so serious



I’m talking to myself

of taking the plunge

Jumping off the cliff

with not a doubt in my heart

that I will fly



and I’m listening to 
root chakra frequencies

but I didn’t even realize

until I saw myself

in the mirror



The truth?

I want to hold a hand

as I soar in metaphor

My feet still rooted to this land

for I know there’s more



So much to explore

but

I can’t do it alone

I won’t



All passion pouring

out of a hole

in the bottom 
of my sinking heart



I was always willing to drown

dissolve

become an ocean



before

I think I’m finally starting to relax. 
It was such a simple day, 
but it was beautiful. 

I took a walk in the park, 
and had a great time 
playing a silly game, 
and forgetting to care 
about a thing. 

I got stung by a hornet 
for the first time, 
and I could have complained, 
but I thought it was pretty cool. 

Firsts are neat. 

I ate junk food 
and breathed deeply 
and took a selfie with a hawk 
that landed in a tree 
without leaves 
and barely any limbs. 

It almost seemed like 
it was posing for a picture. 

I went home, 
and I wasn’t tense, 
and I wasn’t stressed, 
and the noise didn’t bother me, 
too much. 

I’m starting to let go 
of everything holding me back. 
I don’t want to worry anymore. 
I want to sleep deeply, 
and wake up feeling restored. 

I want to write without caring 
why I’m doing it. 

You know 
I questioned if I should even 
be writing poetry anymore, 
last night? 

I feel like I haven’t been 
enjoying it like I used to. 
Like it’s just a chore, 
or something I’m doing 
purely because I feel like 
that’s what I’m supposed to do. 

Maybe my real passion is conversation. 
But, I think, when the words flow freely 
and with that certain kind of eloquence 
I only find in isolated moments of silence, 
when the mind decides to sing instead of speak, 
I experience true magic. 

The current passes through me, 
in that wisping instant. 
I’m stolen away to a place 
of solace and safety. 

I’m left feeling energized and nourished, 
but suddenly aware of a thirst that 
I’d never realized I needed to quench 
until I wrote that specific poem. 

So maybe purpose 
has nothing to do 
with passion. 

Maybe people are beautiful, 
and small moments of grace 
keep me loving life, and 
breathing it in and 
becoming through my experiences. 

I’m certainly passionate about sharing 
an aspect of the world with myself; 
ingesting it, and incorporating it into me. 

Living as a culmination of memory and energy 
passed through so many different beings 
and incarnations of something 
that is ultimately formless; 
that will always inspire me. 

And contemplating that inexpressible fact, 
of what is nebulous yet ever present, 
is the thread that ties me to fate. 

But poetry is something, I think, 
that is written on my heart 
to sustain my soul. 

It’s a sort of inscription or incantation, 
invoking the very essence of my existence. 
And that isn’t to say I am a poet 
because I write poetry. 

What I’m saying is that I write poetry 
because the emotion of life is distilled 
through my soul and causes my heart to swell 
until it bursts. 

I am sodden with the ichor of existence. 
Sometimes living hurts, 
but nothing is more real 
than loving it, anyway.

There, where the turning moon would then subsume, should I subsist
The new year births and I’m unearthed to linger yet persist
Unencumbered by my hunger; wonder what will die
As every day’s a new engagement toward a life aligned

Your leaving gleans a hope of breathing in the winds of change
For never more shall I abhor and be eclipsed: deranged
I’ve buckled since your resonance has likened me to death
As you depart, I hold my art to act where I’m bereft

I’ve left my heart to hold the old unstructured things I hate
To come and form upon new avenues allaying fate
Where once our coalescence was the essence of renewal
These cruel begotten, ever rotten shifts rend us in duel

I tether there my heart to severed parts of what was whole
I lie beneath the moon and am reborn, alone and full
To curse the moving ether would bring deeper separation
So by the rising tides of mindless time I find elation

I am the air
i can fit anywhere
without ever taking
the shape of a container

i am nebulous
amorphous
orphic
shifting in duality
precipitating energy
while still remaining
empty

i glide inside
the captivating
pull of worlds rotating

still enamored by the moon
emanating atmospheric sphere's
within the room

there we sat,
four strong in the abandoned station
boxes and trash scattered haplessly about
the dim lit room, on couches
tense and anticipatory

she saw seesaws by the water
tilting to and fro
as wind blows cloud by her open mind
a mouth ajar and hanging lame,
spittle sticks

a miscreant metaphor abhorred in dark
a lonesome emptiness that cannot get a grip
when suddenly a crowd forms from
the avenues wherein adventure halts

sign the form
name and date
Brain: Frog

she rants and raves
or is it "he?"
butcher you, to stay
with me forever

No
I will not tarry there
in the stagnant air
won't weep with you
in this empty room

I'll dive into the deep
hide beneath the false surface
waves under stillwater

I swim up
a boat laps over me
exposed belly
no rutters cut
no blades to leave me empty

I survive
Father'lone, a search party
but in my dive into obscurity
I left my friends behind
We could've taken her

a hug for the sad part of my heart
only being able to cry when I feel safe
trusting that you can trust someone



the freedom that comes from knowing

that letting go is opening up
to unconditional acceptance
of self and of other
from self and from other

a ******* arrow of love
piercing through me

finding the haven of the soul
within the chest

when somehow space dissipates

and only love is left
and what is love?

it is not grasping

it is not a kiss
nor a ****
nor a lifetime with one person
who “completes you”

love says
you are enough
you belong in this space

you are worthy of embrace
you are safe

it does not say

you are mine
it says
you are free

you are divine
you are a part of me

because we are all a part
of humankind
and a greater mind

how lost I’ve been

in grappling and coping with hope

how i’ve been found, upside down
suspended by my foot by a rope



seeing the world in a new light
cracking open my mind like an egg

the sunlight splits the mist 

in the real world


just as I peer into the light
of my soul
and you’re there with me
and you’re all there with me