#experimenting
Because your body
Is a precise reflection
Of the pain
That acted on it
And shaped it slowly
Skilfully
Relentlessly
Like the hands
Of a goldsmith
Having a vision
Co-creator of your
Fate
Your best teacher
And anchor
In the here and now
Accelerator of
Meaning
An inescapable
Ritual of aliveness
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 8:55 AM UTC
It's hard to tell whether
The Universe put you in front of me
As a test
Or as a Northern star
Or just as any other stranger
Passing by briefly
Causing little ripples
On the surface of my existence.
Or all of them.
It cannot be easy
When your body says yes
Your mind says no
But the heart keeps
Humming that it does
Feel good.
A form of self imposed
Torture.
But maybe there was never meant
To be unity
And the goal is not to quench
The thirst
But to become it
With a feeling of weird satisfaction
That you are indeed the master
And the pupil of the forces
That keep tingling
And creating blue sparks
As you touch someone else's
Skin.
Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 7:03 AM UTC
Lines. Dots. Forth. Back.
Wine. Shots. Turf. Lack.
Home. Aid. Miss. Bless.
Far. Paid. MISS. Stress.
Near. Real. MISS. Flirt.
Tear. REAL. MISS. Dirt.
Fear. REAL. MISS. Hurts.
FEAR
REAL
MISS
...hurts.
Dec 12, 2025
Dec 12, 2025 at 7:18 AM UTC
1 Ring
5 Rings
10 Rings
20 Rings…
I was just sleeping—
walking down the stairs
with heavy feet.
The window cracks
shining light to my face—
tempting me back to bed.
Opposite of a charming kiss
given unto a princess in slumber.
…
But I cant go to sleep
as she doubled the rings on the door.
So I opened the door
and like a dead corpse,
I faded by the light.
“Ahhh.”
At that moment
I remembered what I dreamt of…
“Lying and Semaniusly”
Blurted out
as I realized
I was already blocked?
“That makes no sense!”
I thought to myself.
Why would they do that?
What was the reason for it?
Was it necessary?
All of these questions
and my mind was tied
to the self-deprecating rings
that stopped me
from searching in this dream.
———————————-
To acknowledge
that I left the dream confused
was frustrating.
But cleanly
I came out of the dream—
and had to check
if it really was a dream…
Contumely so—
I left with a new word.
“Semaniusly”?
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 9:26 AM UTC
Once again this, once again love.
A memoir so sublime, summered and peppered, folded in lustre and sheen of a blue lensed and buffering sky
Once again love
May 25, 2023
May 25, 2023 at 3:02 PM UTC
my crooked wings cannot fly
wrapped in white linen
their ridges rise like mountains
their feathers are beautiful and soft like harp strings
i will write letters inked with your name
but these letters are for me
and the birds that watch me in pity from the sky
do you love me?
will you hurt me?
i have not been scared for a long time
do you need fear to feel love?
leave me lonely i cannot fly
but you must
please
Feb 11, 2022
Feb 11, 2022 at 8:28 AM UTC
She's in parties,
He's in options,
Diluted ideologies unite,
Mood rings and **** carpeting,
Time to ride
The swing.
A bit of nerves,
Warm the hands with Jamaican ***
All the wives then merrily lift
Their skirts in tandem,
Advertising disparate *******
The color of come-on.
Spin the bottle,
Pass the blindfold,
Cock-a-hoop and tied-up,
Guess who's lips you kiss next (?)
They had a lovely evening
--Dinner
--Dancing
--And in someone else's pants.
The couple who plays together
Strays together.
Argue it out in the car
Or go home now.
Once the keys are mixed up,
You're game for the ne plus ultra
Of strange bedfellows,
And even stranger inclinations.
Dec 23, 2019
Dec 23, 2019 at 1:42 PM UTC
Poet : " Hey peeps"
Singer : "sup"
Artist : " Hiii"
Poet : " I was wondering, its quite intriguing how we are all quite similar , yet different as well "
Artist : "How so ?"
Poet : " Well, we all show , some feeling or emotion or portray any message in some sort of form, one way or another "
Singer : "Thats true , I use my voice so that many can hear my lyrics whether cryptic or not "
Poet : True, but you also forgot...
Artist : "Poet does this as well , despite the words on paper for many to read , poet doesn't quite sing in melody , but speaks so that many can hear the words to tell the message "
Poet : " Exactly , thank you Artist "
Artist : " No problem , as for me I neither Sing nor speak , my art paint the words I want to convey in the mind as an image "
Singer : "Yes,Yes, But don't you at times say what your art means , so technically you do speak kinda"
Artist : " Hahaha , ******** yes but I would only say 15-20 per cent of the time , to convey what i'm trying to define "
Poet : " Fair enough but technically poets can do this as well , in fact there is a type of poetry called...
Artist : " Concrete, Yes I know , such a flattering name by the way, hahaha "
Singer : " Hahaha"
Poet : " Anyways! , to add to poetry we need not have to create art , for our message to be visualized "
Singer : " Thats all well and good , however in the rhythmic sway in the melodies of song , I quite literally move people , you could even say the way they dance to my songs to show how it makes them feel , expressing themselves, as well as painting a picture ...."
Poet : "Hahaha damnnn, are you trying to show your the best ?"
Singer : " Just saying facts , not my fault it might come across as me being the best "
Poet : "Do try and remember us Poets do move those who read or listen to our poetry , they can relate. On the words , they think and meditate plus with those lines an image in there mind they do, re-create"
Singer : " Really , you just couldn't help not rhyming ? "
Poet : " Don't hate , appreciate.. "
Singer : " Oh gosh... "
Artist : " Hahaha"
Artist : " Don't forget us Artists , our art , can move people , maybe not as physically as you Singer, but we can cause a sway of thoughts for a painting can have a multitude of meanings"
Artist : " Sometimes it is better not to tell them my definition of the painting, but to see what it means to them and how it makes them feel "
Singer : " Sigh fair enough you got me there... "
Poet : " Its like I said , we are similar in the fact , that we portray something in our own unique act , to wonder and see how the viewer will react , to see the thoughts and feelings in our different dealings... To..."
Singer : " Oh my gosh we get it... No need to rhyme us to oblivion"
Artist : " We all basically show some sort of message just in a different way "
Singer : " See , why couldn't you just say that poet ? "
Poet : " Oh shut up."
Artist ; " Hahaha"
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 9:04 PM UTC
I lay here waiting in my skin for the tearing of the membrane
that seperates this world from the next one and I let myself
get carried along by a fresh stream of reasoning until I
flare up in the dark like a new species of amoeba
this balancing and spinning around on an atom and just not
falling off it becomes boring at times and maybe because of that
sporules once landed here to grant us the possibility
of another possibility
I lay here waiting and I manage not to drown just like only
an almost newborn baby can and being born in 1983
means nothing here in the swelling infinity
of the abnormal
my skin has been waiting for new atmospheres for decades
and the touch of unknown forms makes me shudder with
raw impervious happiness because invisible energy
effervesces alongside my arms and the eyes in my skull
could be anyone’s right now
suddenly the waiting is forgotten and I wallow myself
in the gathered fairy tales of every soul that preceded me
carelessly astonished and uncapable of understanding
the seriousness of this absurd life
inside me irrational poetry dances
like a tribe jumping around a bonfire
outside the universe
dances her own eternity
round and round
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC
Slowly and soft
Playing, laughing, experimenting
Relaxed and happy
Then passionately and long
Cheeks, lips, jaw, neck, and lips again
Deep and *******
Forehead to the belly button
Behind the neck to bump down
Rubbing nose and cheeks
Pressing lips
Fondling ******* and ****
Cuddling with ears
Embracing eyes, looking shy
Spices of variety
Bare skin
A touch of sensation
Against a wall, on the ground
Or in my hands, over me, into each other
Tightly locked, so soothing
A spider web
Searching hands, unexplored regions
Wet and moist
Taking a break
Doing it all over again
and again
and again
Until
the morning rushes upon us
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 2:41 PM UTC