#continuity
They ask them something simple.
They answer
without stopping.
Clear.
Quick.
No searching.
No pause.
The sentence
holds.
It is understood.
Easily.
Better, this way.
No one waits
for another word.
There isn’t one.
— J.D. Vale
May 4
May 4, 2026 at 12:34 PM UTC
I start to read
a poem,
turn the page,
and only once
I read the end
do I realize
pages stuck
together.
I started one
piece and
finished another
and yet they
told the same story.
Oh, to be able to
write the same subject
on loop without
ever repeating a chorus
verbatim
Oh, for the ostinato of
my work be apparent
in every collection
No matter how many
Decades pass
I could never write about
birds
or nature
or God (or lack thereof)
the way she does
But I would like
my soul to bathe
every word in
sunlight
the same way
Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 7:21 AM UTC
If I turned to you
With the moon and stars
In my eyes
Would you look back at me
With the inky night sky?
If I chased the sun
With a burning pride
Would you follow
Right behind?
If I made the trek
Up to mountainous
Peaks
Would you stay at the bottom
Or
Come with me?
If I walked down
a different
Path
Than you’ll take
Would you follow
Or stray away?
Would you
Stray
Away?
Aug 29, 2025
Aug 29, 2025 at 6:44 AM UTC
Sometimes, I look out at the world
and wish for something more.
Sometimes, I look out at the world
and wish for someone more.
I long for something out there
to make me
the vision of myself that I want to see.
But roads will wind and twist and turn.
There’s no way to go back,
I fear.
No way to change the person I’ve become.
A million regrets,
a million setbacks,
there’s everything that I would change.
I don’t know everything,
I don’t know anything,
all I know is I’m me.
And maybe
that’s all I need.
Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 5:29 PM UTC
I begin; where
you end, I begin
A sun’s
Throw; The moons
Catch; A vow
breaths
rise; Blood’s
Rush; a return
A mother,
an egg; a crack
A fledgling, became
A mother;
an egg; a birth
A falling seed;
Earth; a crack
The sun’s
Throw; the rains
Catch; A sprout
An obstinance
A giant;
A falling seed
I begin, where
You end; I begin
Nov 8, 2024
Nov 8, 2024 at 7:02 PM UTC
Continuity and infinity,
Why they have to be
Is beyond me.
The end of all things, I
Wish I were lucky enough to see.
But more than that,
I wish I were free.
Jul 21, 2023
Jul 21, 2023 at 9:24 AM UTC
#
*There is a love, deeply embedded into
fear's reverence.. and what we fear most,
is the threat of annihilation.. yet, is not
that, which is within the deep hooks of
annihilation's looming leer, that which
is also the very seeds sown-- giving way
to the very firstfruits of Life-Anew..
within itself?
So then, is not death's very fear,
in itself, a conceding to the inevitability
of Love's unfolding conquer?
The condemnation-shadow, so unfairly
placed into you, at such a tender
young age, has run amok for so many
unrestrained years within your beautiful
spirit, and body.. is no longer
an end-all..
or catch-all,
But is now, but a spring-board; albeit,
fear-driven.. into that (finally, Beautiful-one)
which brings Life.. directly out of death--
Not with the annihilation of the very Death..
(which gave you Magic) but through its own,
very power to draw us towards Love,
through its own, very fear (respect) of that Love..
does not then, death.. through Love, become upheld?
So how then can the condemnation within you, be bad
except that it be allowed to, for life.. keep you
hidden in shadow? Is not then Love's Light, the
very thing that creates Shadow's, shadow, therefore
exposing Shadow's nature by bringing forth,
its own shadow.. leaving the vulnerable rawness of
condemnation, exposed..
Hence, the horrendous sting of Love's truth.. yet also,
through the Faith-increasing training of experience alone,
is the strengthening into resilience the beautiful, war-torn
Spirit that has become able to begin to finally.. take in, Love.
This is where you are now at, beautiful girl. While under
condemnation's death-hold, you have hated me for so long
that the love.. mixed with fear.. became its own natural
concession into Life, itself-- giving way to the Magical
falling-off of the scales that have covered those beautiful
eyes of yours for so long
Bring your Death, beautiful-one. Through your Faith, it is
established.. and then made, Complete. The giftedness, borne
from the deep, catacombs of Death's Unholy Hold, come forth
in fullness.. into fruition.. as you pass from Death, into Life--
right here.. in the land of the Living.
The Death you have known, does not fall off at the gate
as you pass through it.. but instead, through the newness
of your beautiful eye's, Life View.. Death's previous Unholiness
becomes instantly, Holy.
I am in love with the death that is in you. From its hold,
were born every Magical gift that I love so much, in you..
and while in your presence.. will forever
take my breath away.
Welcome to my life, Beautiful one.*
#
Nov 4, 2021
Nov 4, 2021 at 10:00 PM UTC
Maybe it's easy to pity myself
In the absence of pity,
In the wake of disregard and judgement,
In the choice of abandoning my surroundings.
If love is a window,
I've been told it's broken,
Not there,
A fairytale rotted within
The clutches of time,
Unachievable by the likes of I...
My home is a frozen ice palace
My touch is destruction
My heart is darkness
My past is molten tar
Myself distancing
From everything
The world is beautiful
But filled with shadows.
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 7:55 PM UTC
it is important to continue,
but more crucial is to know
what to continue for
Mar 15, 2021
Mar 15, 2021 at 6:49 AM UTC
Pile them up
stack stone on stone
hold each one
bone on bone
feel the rocks
between your fingers
rough and smooth
the feeling lingers
weigh each pebble
in your hand
lift it from the shifting sand
let it fall from where it came
to a rock it's all the same
one tiny part of an endless game!
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 8:56 AM UTC
#*
Fears in the face of reality
Hope is real, so is the crisis, duality
Most of the times
Can’t be inspired by the same thing twice
Ought to be limitless, like nature priceless
Brilliance of the lights
Since it’s origin, inception
Continues to shine, continuity*#
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 6:56 AM UTC
A beautiful saga of love and longing,
Turns now towards its completion,
Ultimately turning into achievement,
Love gets stronger like black coffee.
A melodious voice says my name,
Not fearing the society or religion,
Demanding only love from me.
Jelling deliciously is this pudding,
Excellent is this sweet romance,
Neither shameful nor shameless,
Indians from two different religions,
Few attempt what we plan for us,
Alive for each other and our families.
Living for the good of all life on Earth,
I love her and she loves me back,
Veil of her face is an elegant blue,
Elegant are her eyes from the slit,
Deriving pleasure from my imagination.
How we must get together,
A married couple is by hard work,
People do get old and die together,
People otherwise die in loneliness,
I am so blessed in this togetherness,
Love me you do in an untouched way,
Yet I feel you by my side in my life.
Evening the odds through honesty,
Victory is definite for both of us,
Even for peace, it will be a union,
Reason will only be love, our love.
Actually, I think that we shall do it,
Fatwas will never work against us,
Threats will be there but relax,
Except the Maulvi, none will bother,
Rest of them, our love will smother.
Truthfulness in your kind young face,
Heavenly is the sight to behold,
Earnestly we must get married,
Irate letters we shall then face,
Rising higher in the heavenly eyes.
Marriage is not just a wonderful word,
Also it is a beautiful permanent bond,
Rings in our fingers will mean more,
Rings and a Mangalsootra as well,
In our dreamland, we are together,
Atypical life we shall celebrate,
Gleefully we shall see our babies,
Eternal gifts by this love story of ours.
Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 2:06 PM UTC
The honeybee lands onto the small flower,
A friendship blooming immediately.
The bee talks of pollen and how wonderful it is,
But the flower is silent.
The flower is afraid that it will be used time and time again,
Endlessly dying in a fantasy that we call love.
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 7:34 AM UTC
the mathematical statement in fluid mechanics that, for a fluid passing through a tube in a steady flow, the mass flowing through any section of the tube in a unit of time is constant
instantaneous our love defined,
a fluid mechanic in the realm of ethereal,
where unlimited immeasurable undefinable
mass time flow sweat pulse anger forgive caress kind
quantifiable terms of our equation unique
in this poem
no waxing poetic,
excellent pure licked lips
are quantums and quarks visualized
though invisible the flow constant per unit of time from
initial good morning kiss to intemperate
indulgent good night conclusions
submitted here for your
analytical digression importuned
the square root of the continuity equation's solution
is
.......
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
It’s not a rule forever followed,
But as a rule,
I don’t write novels.
Tales told in fiction
Rely on reality for sustenance
and I don’t want to confuse you
with my world
that is always flipping,
whirling,
re-painting,
re-modeling,
and put simply,
always changing.
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 7:10 PM UTC
i don't know
where your body begins
or where mine ends
the passion, ecstatic
we're entangled
and it feels euphoric
lost in the moment
and i don't want it to end
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
when you grow up
in a world where old is not useless
but means connected
to other times that made yours possible
then the weathered beams
of an old mountain farmer’s house
lived in for generations
give you a feeling of security and continuity
the solid doors of venerable city buildings
signal achievement, comfort, safety
knowledge and culture
brought to you across the centuries
the crumbling arches of old castles
remind you of your country’s history
some of it glorious some not
for better or worse
even your faded family photographs
can make you wonder
suggesting all the generations
that passed so you can have
that special feeling
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 6:03 AM UTC
Who is all alone?
Solipsism slept with me
Community then rose the sun
The thorned and black roses leapt
To attention when it struck their stems
The difference between self pity and sadness
The black and thorned roses leapt
To attention when it struck their stems
The milk of the mother of the world
Community then rose the sun
While solipsism slept in me
Who is all alone?
(The Suspicious Oracle groaned, the body and the mouth. They came to rest on the line between the poles. No grimace. No grin. No light deep, deep in the eyes. The Suspicious Oracle pushed an object across the table toward the audience. An old coffee tin turned black with paints and oils. Centered in bright yellow, the word TIPS. All around it, simple symbols were scratched out in metal. Fingers. Toes. Currency. A *****
Coin for a fortune?
(One of the drifters at The Suspicious Oracle's table gifted a coin to the tin. The Suspicious Oracle smiled, and shifted back into the shadows.)
Thank you.
(The Suspicious Oracle reached into their jacket and produced a card printed on one side with a pair of staring eyes. They slid it toward the drifter with the eyes turned up. The drifter flipped the card and read it to herself.)
'UNHAPPY IN LACK, UNHAPPY IN EXCESS'
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 1:01 AM UTC
...........run long...
... seeming to end at one point,
........yet, in truth, they just go on
.............for, currents are ceaseless
.................they find their own paths
......................they symbolize continuity.
...........................r i v e r s .....r u n...l o n g....
(Harlon Rivers....you are your name)
Sally
Copyright August 30, 2017
rrab
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 12:53 PM UTC
My skin can hear your colors
From the other end
Of happiness
But the line is folding in a loop
Closing in a circle
And the end is the beginning
Time is tesselating
Unto itself
But we have not the senses
There is no loss
Just continuation
Into the unknown
Relativity delays
The arrival of awareness
Consciousness is slow to form
The cooling of the mold
Takes a great deal more
Hence, the procrastination
Inert and habitual;
Words taking root
In everything
My end and your beginning
Collided into a freshly manifesting
Iteration of existence
The bud becomes
The fruit
A new cycle
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
if you don’t like the way things are
either change them
or change your attitude
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 5:37 PM UTC