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Slices of My Body (that are never seen)
………………………………………………

with scalpel, with ultrasonography,
the cutters cut, the technicians bombarded,
pieces and images of my internals sent to the
       laboratories that are never seen…

well hidden, behind technically sounding
signs and very locked doors, the analyses, were
performed to better explicate my unusual
       symptoms that had never seen …


to aid and assist the medicine men, whose
fingers thrummed and beat time to my
puzzle pieces, my unpredictable internality's,
imperfections, that contravened, internecined
with each other, so they cagey convoluted my
diagnostic definition of deficiencies humanistic
          that are never seen seen…


And I asked them about love, the battles within,
the damages and defeats, the ecstasies & injuries
that are never ever revealed, though not so well
hidden deep as one would think, visible only by
magnification and sonar doppler waves, reluctantly
they spoke of things, imagery, colors decoding,
          that are never seen

      

"your blood flows patent and compressible, that's good,
but at various points in your life, volcanic eruptions
were regular occurrences, and the impacts resulting,
their his~stories were soundly astounding, revealing,
of passion passing so overtly dangerous, nearly
incomprehensible, that repeatedly reveled, indicative of repeated waves of survival and recovery"

          *"that had never been seen"



"And various times for periods lengthy and abbreviated,
you loved ferociously, with reckless disregard for your
sanity and sanitary, when and where the blood did not flow to parts of you, and the dead capillaries are with dried flows
filled with extruded, solidified lava love, forever closed~beyond reparation"
          "that had never been seen"


This information was delivered to me, by them,
with great hesitation and trepidation, thinking,
that this would prove most shocking; unbeknownst
to them, neither the action/reaction, of my love~affairs,
nor the the largest of their consequences, the varied
resultant  effects that their researches revealed
          
were things, felt, palpable, extant, truly real

That the damages to my heart were significant,
and my body's own attempt to salvage, to save,
were evident, but succumbed time and time again
to the shock waves of explosive concentrations
of love's disruptions, that prevented substantive healing
came as no surprise, for my poetry of all year's past,
catalogued the travails of my travelogues, and even
though some,
as old *half a century ago,
well preserved,
were they, they were! in
both large and microscopic elements within,
of them:
   
       were line and linen
            items of my life, wrinkled, worn,
                                                           ­          but well recalled, cherished
Laokos Sep 27
Blank men carry black stones
to riverbeds and call all
who wake before the bells
to follow.

They do not worry about tomorrow
because tomorrow is never
and blank men are naught.

They do not ride horses
because horses mean work.
They do not fall in love
because love means deep being.
They do not chant prayers
because prayers make believe.

They only carry black stones
to riverbeds
because rivers are always changing.

“Don all ye that come, with lamp
and cloak and speak the nameless
name of the river you step into.
Bright be we that carry this darkness
and shadow be us that survive the light.
Ask not why you carry these stones,
but hurl them into the void
and see your reflection tremble.”


At this they move on
and repeat themselves,
with new faces
and no names,
to places that don’t exist
and people that never were.

Blank men carry black stones
to riverbeds and call all
who wake before the bells
to follow.
The thread thee warp
shadow shall shade so
as silken cradles fade though
So soothing that I
lost the rest soaring

Fool’s gold never seems to keep its shine
as if shiver sun ray never stray
until down it bends
until up it flicks
Naively flow with waves of velvet and thorn
not until finding them its own.

Tuned tile, aged alley, clouded cement,
welcome
wander the sunlight
setting feeble rose and blue
adorning tranquil ardent and alive
soothing sacred faint to find floods of glow
announcing alienated savage to shelter sprouts of soul
23:01 May 7, 2024. In Beijing.
Nat Lipstadt Jul 19
~For Mr. Lawrence Hall~
<>

you absolutely sure?
Now for sure I'm no expert, though did read the New Testament
Cover to cover, all in one sitting, for a Jesuit priest buddy,
yes my taste in friends is
Eclectic, like my poems, slightly at the fat tail of an
Abnormal curve,
i.e. turn my curse into a blessing,
Anyway, it strikes me that Jesus,
spent his time, full-time,
Solving for X,
and showed quIte an
imaginative thought/belief process,
And great creativity,
To obtain his answers...
Hoping I'm offending no one...unintentional for sure,
he is a
Heroic figure, kind and forgiving, what's not to like?

But he solved problems, multi variate, non linear, imaginatively,
Never threw  in the towel on the truly complex, though., he never perceived himself as a mathematician, indeed his life was eXactly
That, solving humanity for the X,
the humanity in us,
So yeah,  he didn't just say solve for X,
He just went about his day, solving solving solving...
salving, salving...
Odalys Sep 18
There’s always someone better—this truth I’ve come to know,
What one man passed on gladly, another will bestow.
He shrugged at things that made you bright, then walked away unkind;
But someone else will hold those sparks and keep them in his mind.

The quirks your ex called noisy, the stumbles that he feared,
Are treasures to a different heart that sees you, revered.
Where one man saw your edges, sharp and hard to tame,
Another sees the constellations written in your name.

Don’t be afraid to leave a love that lacks the light,
To trade safe compromises for someone who gets it right.
There’s courage in the leaving, a faith that won’t regret—
Because somewhere waits the person who loves you without debt.

So never settle smaller than the woman that you are,
You’re worth a thousand favors, not just one lukewarm star.
Hold out for the kind of love that lifts you when you fall—
There will always be a better one; you only have to call.
If they wanted to... they would.
i wish I could be more
than a closed shut case
with you, I wish I could
be open like a butterfly
taking flight, but I feel
chained beneath the sea;
Never to be known.
It's hard to open up. It feels so easy with poetry, it feels so easy to write...but speaking? Speaking is so different.
Parisha Jul 12
He never knew the storms he calmed,
With just a glance, a laugh, a smile.
He never knew how deep I sank,
Until his light reached me, quiet, and kind.

Last night, sleep refused to come —
I waited, stared, held back a sigh.
Just hoping he might say a word,
Or send a sign, a soft reply.

But morning came with empty air,
He didn’t show — and I just stared.
At benches, books, the teacher’s voice,
While colours drained from everywhere.

He never knew how much it hurt,
To sit and smile, pretend, obey —
When all I wished was just to see
His silly grin light up the day.

He never knew, and maybe won’t,
How much he helped me breathe again.
Unbelievable! Someone whome I've never talked to-
Still in his silence,I found my strength.

You never knew you're the only star
My sky still chases every night —
Because no other light has ever
Matched the warmth you gave so right.

You never knew, you still don’t see —
You’re a soul I can’t replace.
Not because I need your love...
But because you gave me grace.

—Parisha
mysterie Aug 18
i dread talking the truth,
letting those words flow out
of my brain
and out my mouth.

it's seldom.

i dont speak my truth,
i am never honest
with my real feelings.

wont it just hurt people?
date wrote: 18/8
might be a favourite..
Don’t want to be
Anyone but me
Right now
I hate this
Never have I before
And I hope I never will again

Habits I hate
And hopes I can’t give up on
Never-ending cycles
Again and again
For anyone out there who doesn't know who they are
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