#familiarity
i texted someone today;
nothing big,
nothing flashy,
just a simple "hi".
got a reply
and had some good small talk
sending a few voice notes.
it was nice
hearing your voice again—
the voice i once found solace in,
the voice
i once called home.
Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 12:35 AM UTC
You are beautiful,
like all the other people --
I get to know well.
Jun 28, 2025
Jun 28, 2025 at 2:22 AM UTC
In the many books
that I like, I never read --
anything that's new.
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 2:54 AM UTC
Weighted
For home, to see any fated
Light, and its heart...?
Worth without, a coping all to start...?
So, waited...
Has a view, of harmony sated
An inclining deem of reason...
Sat in a heat's shadow, to endure a desire's season?
Quiet forces
Witnessing, an acquiring sense of worsens...
Has the youth, for are's demonstration
Poignancy and burden, love, precisely my notion...
The awakening sun
Promising any moment with the truth, won
Twain is a parables pardon
For what cares love, has become...
The sanctified night?
With almost, the belly of always, right...
Sense of a serious less, given a sighs guest to many ways
Are we to dance well under the stars, if a shine of liberty, mays?
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 3:01 PM UTC
Dear love,
In this moment,
our steps feel familiar,
like we’ve danced here before.
Words feel familiar,
like we’ve sung them before.
The air feels familiar,
like we’ve breathed it before.
My dearest,
your lips feel familiar,
like we’ve kissed before,
in another time,
another life.
Tell me, love,
do you feel it too?
Or am I alone
in this déjà vu?
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 1:20 PM UTC
Fight the algorithms
that tell us what to do,
to make us predictable,
unoriginal and bankable.
Have you witnessed how
increasingly bland and homogenous
our lives are becoming?
Choose freedom
avoid the diaries of commerce
that riff on the ubiquity of apps
resist the reductive tropes
of our published and circulated,
perspective customer identities.
Fight the algorithms
with their embedded backlot
familiarity, built around class
and consumerism.
Try to understand the
vague, inscrutable and
purposefully circuitous.
Or stop overthinking
and embrace liberating surrender.
That’s the path I’ve chosen.
.
.
Broken People by The Narcissist Cookbook
Talk Down Dijon
Jan 27, 2025
Jan 27, 2025 at 12:36 PM UTC
I long to see me
As you do,
Entirely foreign and
Mundanely beautiful.
I wish to trace
The curves of my lettering,
Attempting to decode
A message I have already
Memorized.
I have already unraveled
All of my mysteries but you
Still startle at each creak
Of the floor, each squeak
Of the door.
Nevertheless,
That elsewise wonder
Is only reserved for
Strangers.
Oct 17, 2024
Oct 17, 2024 at 12:00 PM UTC
a neighbour
plays saxophone
somewhere down the street
it sounds like
they are at
an open window
practicing scales
bursts of pieces
previously mastered
other segments
yet to be perfected
those standard exercises
again and again
with missed breaths
and off-note *********
building in complexity
but slowed down
beyond recognition
with their concentration
no doubt
seething at times
behind closed doors
as fingers refuse
to obey
not moving fast enough
assuredly enough
it should annoy me
it usually would
this distraction
while I try
to read or write
the stumbling repetition
of practice failing
to make perfect
but today
there is a calming
in the familiarity
of it all
Jun 10, 2023
Jun 10, 2023 at 8:47 AM UTC
I'd wish to know, if we're only an idea of tall tales that meet the skeletons in both our closets and thus, it solely goes romanticizing my tarnished land.
In fury, my escapism brought me home away from home _and there he was_, he's the familiarity I'd wish, I never know.
So dear, he's already _'a home'_,
I'd live and die at times he's all I have and so this borrowed chance, as to what I afeared of, my love is building; a labyrinth, _I'd never wish to escape_.
Feb 23, 2023
Feb 23, 2023 at 11:37 PM UTC
There I was, staring from afar,
is it just the night scene that makes my periphery hazy? Or we're on a geomorphological process of meeting an another celestial body; you were standing there, wondrously daydream- like, as that time came unbeknownst to me.
There is a strange familiarity on you
that changes my animosities— _a paradigm shift_, and all the long way leads to you.
Jan 26, 2023
Jan 26, 2023 at 12:57 PM UTC
I used to see cars individually
not as parts but the people inside
those people would be driving around me
and we’d wave to each other
while navigating clear roads
I would recognize their car
out of familiarity
the city has grown since then
I don’t recognize cars anymore
just brands and colors
creating the traffic jam in front of me
as my engine overheats.
Apr 27, 2021
Apr 27, 2021 at 8:16 PM UTC
and alone, i rediscover my old habit of making out stars from the trenches
and finding the road of your childhood home changed
sky to sky
and you are not the first snow
but you will witness the snow fight
the boys spoke no other language than their own
they threw, and fell, and built larger shadows of three
inseparable ever since
laughter disappearing into walls
i rediscover city lights flickering off
closing shop, on the bed singing into a screen
‘goodbye’
‘you will see me later’
Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 12:35 AM UTC
You might not want
to admit it
but truth hath spoken:
what makes you stay
is the same thing
that hinders you
from growth...
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 10:03 AM UTC
I'm caught in a forest
My glass frame is jagged and shattered
I give in to a distant call to rest
And I search for somewhere to lay my head
The forest is quiet
A whisp broke me and left
And I'm alone to care for a grove
I am broken, I am scared, I am upset
Something ahead of me
Trapped in the overgrowth
It can't be!
My armor, my friend, my beautiful cog!
Oh! What have I done to you?
I check it's inner workings
Gears clogged with vines and branches
Iron rusted through
Until I wander deep enough
And I find the source of my distant whisper
My hearth
Once a great and burning flame
To move my cog so powerfully
So patiently
Subserviently
I climb in
And flames long dead begin to burn once more
It melts my glass
And smooths me out
And I lay my head to rest
I close my eyes
When I open them again
I see through the juggernaut's eyes
And I burn so hot from my pain
The overgrowth burns away
Rusted parts shatter away
A plume of smoke billows from me
I am a cog once more
I feel so heavy
So tired
But oh so powerful
A great machine finds me in this grove
And offers me a place in it's inner workings
Other cogs inside, made of shining steel greet me
We grind and toil away
And I feel so at home
After harming and being harmed by a beautiful whisp
Who I now understand never truly understood me
Nor did I understand them
They fled from me
Left me so alone
But I am strong once more
I am so tired
I feel safe and complacent
So I will rest and let my body fall into routine
I will sleep
I will obey my new machine
I will dream
Feb 20, 2021
Feb 20, 2021 at 11:46 AM UTC
This place
It feels familiar
Darkness envelopes me
I stick my hand out
At arms length is a wall
Four corners
No door
Trapped
I reach above
Right over my head
Is the top
It feels familiar
These wall's surrounding me
On all sides are
Damp
I take a deep breath
The air is dry
Despite the walls
Each breath leaving me
Makes me thirsty
Suddenly, there's a light
Seeping through the walls
It was dim
But just enough
I find it
The way out
A handle
Clearly wan't there
Before
I open the door
And sprint through
SLAM!
Darkness
What happened?
This place
It feels familiar
Darkness envelopes me
I stick my hand out
Four corners
No door
Repeat
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 4:58 PM UTC
We finish digging our graves, dug
to what we consider three feet, but
we don’t worry about measurements.
These deaths are negligible.
Coated in dirt and sweat and heaving,
we gaze at each other. We both nod,
toss our shovels aside and walk over
to our bodies. He grabs his by the wrist
and drags it across the grass. I hoist
mine into my arms and shuffle over.
They’re both dumped into the graves,
and we fill both the holes. He walks to
his car without hesitation. I pause a
moment to glare at my grave, but I don’t
offer a eulogy or prayer, only standing
there in silence. I catch up to him, throw
my shovel in the trunk, and we drive off.
He drops me at my home, and I go inside
to find my wife watching TV. My wife? I
blink, trying to focus. Yes, she is my wife.
She says “Hey honey”, and I respond with
a low “Hey”, but she doesn’t look over,
does not notice the mess. I ***** up the
stairs, counting the steps, and start a shower.
As the water warms, the mirror reveals
someone familiar. No, not familiar, this is
me. I get under the warm stream, letting it
clean away what is left of me.
-
by Aleksander Mielnikow | Alek the Poet
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 7:02 AM UTC
Latticed deja vu.
Arbor of my mind recalled.
Garden beyond; home.
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 11:16 PM UTC