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A colorless, eye-shaped smoke in the sky is my eyes,
That, instead of seeing, creates new skies,
New ground, and on it a new population.


None can be sure about my subjective realisation,
But what I see is more like a simplification
Of a horribly bad-mad world.


I myself am not sure how the colours are whirled;
The colours of dream- and under-world
As clothes in a washing machine.


Myself is supposed to whirl inside that machine,
Among the instinctive desires and unclean,
Inherited demands.


While my true existence that no one understands
Is beyond those dark-coloured commands,
Just dwelling for observation.
01.07.2019
Now on a silent summer night
Caught me the melancholy.


I was walking, wandering,
Wondering 'where am I going'
On an empty dusty road
That my legs solidly followed.


Through the shaky street lamps' light,
Just one single word was brought out
By the blackguard of an endless see
Intruded from the deepest embassy.


'Élet', that was the foreign word,
Whose meaning ensnared the world:
La vie, Leben or any Life or birth,
Still just concepts holding little worth.


'Élet' I echoed by laughing,
And passed the road embarrassing
Myself by thinking of that notion
Which had never given me emotion.


A word which filled me with filthy void,
And made me unable to avoid
Falling into a senseless sorrow,
Lowering me lower and more low.


I got to be hardly stressed;
Why this mysterious word pressed
On me so cruelly the wrong,
Making me depressed a life time along.


Even if I should have cried for resort,
I was still walking sine a sort
In my mind that's not a garden of Eden,
Or just I was, by myself, mistaken.


In some or other fairy way,
My road was riding further away;
Just as in Don Quixote's battle of glory,
I was walking against Melancholy.
My very first English poem, written in 2013, Algeria.
Derrick Jones Sep 28
We are nothing but vibrations in the universe
This movement is a blessing or a curse
In some ways, it’s a choice
If my voice is one of honesty
My frequency made of decency
That is when I let love in
Surrounded by my friends
I let my life begin again
With no thought for the bitter end

But I must remember
As I dismember the lies that lock us inside
We all have illusions of agency
Though the control box has a vacancy
And those with misfortune did not choose
Their portion of this world
The atoms with which they twirl
The vortex of thought in which they swirl
We are all along for the ride
We run and we hide
But when physics is applied
There’s no free will there to find

So what do we do
With this ultimate view?
Let’s embrace each sensation
Pay attention to creation
Not simply seeking elation
Or striving for elevation
But flowing through the sine curve
Merging with each twist and swerve
Through the ups and the down
Thankful to be around
Gratitude for a connection to the ground
The mellifluous magic of sound
The technicolor infinities that materialize
When I bat open my eyes
Or begin to fantasize

In this boundless ocean of beauty
I can weather the storms
Simply passing waveforms
Bolstered by the knowledge
That nothing last forever
But hope is here to stay
Merely a second away
And even when my skies are gray
I remember I am just a string
Energetically swinging to and fro
And when I touch my fellow threads I glow
A spark of connection
I make a mental correction
Weaving myself into this web of life
I am not alone
I am safe at home
My down is another’s up
I cannot understand this pattern
All I know is that it matters
So I will be thankful every day
That I have a chance to play
That I may not have a will
But I know I am the way
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at https://medium.com/words-ideas-thoughts
Thanks for reading!
Freezing water on my skin is unobserved while a warm breeze flows through my steady state of detached focus

Comfortable illusions embraced by the tribe, you look to me and see something of a demon, to be feared, yet respected

I stand tall as any man might, my gaze contains an eternal essence, an angel in this creature

A vessel of blood and bones, feels the emotion of an abandoned infant, the alienation of a wolf betrayed by its pack

Continued to climb with broken arms, walked with a shattered heart, intercepting the silence with bitter expressions of being

Once blindness had become so much better than seeing, watching brothers bend beauty to fit a God forsaken form

I look now upon your beaten face without pity, painfully acknowledging the choices you have made

The sounds of war replaced the quiet calmness of the child I used to be

Weeping without recognition, you scoffed at this agony

Now night after night I contemplate our complacency,
wondering when the rivers of blood may awaken the hearts sacred sense of urgency

A soul of the whole world. I watch the floods and flames engulf the stillness that once was, the peace that was taken for granted, now falling down, and heaven cries it's last goodbye
Everyone's been talking about how
the universe will either expand
indefinite cold star death
or collapse and then repeat itself

meanwhile i'm a slave proper
in every sense of the word physical
bound to the elements hunger
a criminal for speaking my thoughts aloud

a loud or a soft noise unheard
unseen and unknown and unthinkable
still I would try to define it
humanity, always effing the ineffable

i'm one and apart and the same all the same
the universe cloaked in name after name
every man and woman a star
in their own drama melodrama how dramatic

i am in a word addict
again you might say i'm back at it
rhyming with rhythm but static
sense or nonsense and i've had it
riley minteer Aug 26
You can find me in the fields,
catching water bugs,
and small red beetles.
You will find me in the grass,
sifting through all of the things I have left.

sifting through dollops of honey
and gin
sifting through well-rusted lockets and tins
o’er high hills comes sweet-smelling winds
carrying over pollens from yore,
drifting from to city to city once more...

twenty years later i sit in my yard
with my cats and my children in the heart of new york,
new york
a faint, yet audible buzzing awakes me from my nap,
and as i wake i see a flow‘r on my lap.
how could this be?
how could this happen?
i’m surrounded by non-ornamental hedge plants!

i look to the sky and see a faint glisten,
for i've seen it now as i’ve seen it before
i breathe in the sweet smell of my youth from yore,
drifting from city to city once more.
-riley minteer
“standing in two gardens”
excerpt: “commenbees, pollen-sifters”
(from unfinished works)
Monday, August 26, 2019
riley minteer Aug 26
...seemingly routine,
the circumstance at hand
the fire burning books made by my fellow man
burn away his knowledge with the ham-ring of keys,
“burn away his ashes-
do with the riches as we please”
such things are the enticing lies of the world
the same men who lust are the same men who burn
“do unto others as your fellow man”
we’ll do what we want and we’ll wilt at the end…

looking above,
the light changes the tune
and all that was bleak
is bleaker once more,
but truly, vibrancy occurs; downpours

how colors as if drawn by invisible force,
recede, concur, conceit, remorse
valleys plunge into whites, into blacks
“is this the epiphany to break down my back?”
i scream into jars
without reading their state
i know what will come
but it’s only to late
they’ve captured my heart,
away with my fate!

its true, down i fall
but more truer so,
thick vines from the ravine catch me into-
though i come breaking lose
with the weight of the weathering i bear…

i believe in the power of chiefly healing
with nothing but passion within true pain
eyes gleaming astounded as they slowly degrade
like collections of quarters left out in the rain.
-riley minteer
“standing in two gardens”
excerpt: “intrinsic oxidation, total condemnation”
(from unfinished works)
Sunday, August 25, 2019
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