#permanence
Axe in my hand,
head in the plan,
blood pools around my feet
Where I stand.
Raised in surrender,
Fallen contender,
Will you still be in front of me
When the war has ended?
Arrow in my hand,
A face off in the plan,
Guilt pools around my feet
Where I stand.
The price that you pay,
The winnings I take,
The sacrifice
I am
Unwilling to make?
Don’t die on me now,
My heart kisses the ground,
Winter melts away as the
Sun comes around.
I drop to my knees
Among the dirt and wheat
As I fall to a man
As unloving as me.
Your claws in my own,
And an evil that goads
At us
laughs at the victory
Of taking your throne.
I hope when I’m buried
Under an aging tree
I see your face,
carved into the bark
Staring back at me.
Jul 31, 2025
Jul 31, 2025 at 7:43 AM UTC
Goodbye.
A final farewell to a chapter that’s ending.
A word that many consider permanent
A word that is everlasting
If we want temporary,
Trying replacing with see you later.
That way the door is left open
That way the chapter hasn’t ended
The page hasn’t turned
That way I know you aren’t finished with me.
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 5:27 PM UTC
is it more beautiful
the fleeting end
of a rainbow
Jul 1, 2025
Jul 1, 2025 at 10:55 AM UTC
It has become a curse to remember so vividly,
those moments, simple yet profound.
Like smiles, the sound of breath, and the warmth of their palms.
Loving, I’ve realized, is often about memorizing.
Attending to every detail whenever you can.
Their presence becomes integral, no matter how scarce,
So you rely on all your senses to keep them alive.
And when it’s time to leave, everything falls silent.
The glass feels more half-empty than half full
You realize, that their absence, too, hangs in the air
A feeling you don’t just remember, but live in
And you’re left wondering,
why their absence feels more permanent.
Jan 1, 2025
Jan 1, 2025 at 10:59 PM UTC
I wake up without you
Lying away from me won't solve your problems
Not even on your cold asphalt bed
Your mechanical graveyard covers twisted tight around you
Rain rinses your wounds
The blood is washed away
A river flowing into my room
I don't recognize you, sitting in the corner
Watch my chest heave with silent sobs
Picturing your gnarled face
I don't sleep
I go to bed with you still gone
Jan 24, 2024
Jan 24, 2024 at 10:40 PM UTC
I'm not in a good place, it's written all over my face with a permanence I can not erase
The ace up my sleeve turned out to be a joker with my super imposed face
Lost in the twisted maze that is my head space, I'd chase the cheese but it'd be a waste
Fear infused with a terror base so potent you swear it almost has a taste
The dark haze of my past short circuits any new interface
Filled with a technology way out of date but never had the means to replace
I watch the life I thought I'd be a part of race by at a dizzy pace
But it always made time to come back 'round and knock the taste out my mouth like 808 base
Then leaves post haste without a trace before catchin' a case
Just one more missing personality cold case, chalk it up to another looser fallen from grace
They say to pick yourself up by you boot straps, I'm always breakin' the shoe lace
Bet they didn't think I'd use the bootlace to replace the slipknot necklace I misplaced
The bright young man with aspersions worth the chase now incased in blue skin wearing deaths face
©2023
Dec 13, 2023
Dec 13, 2023 at 6:43 PM UTC
I realize that the time we have won’t be enough.
If you add all the moments up....
You have a lifetime that flashed by in the blink of an eye.
& Maybe if I can count all our moments together...
Instead I will have an eternity to share.
Today, I am 23 and tomorrow I shall be flowers arising.
I clench and whisper to myself to remember every detail.
Feeling the moments slipping.
As the way life arises into consciousness & then out to oblivion.
I am reminded that all of myself is only the parts in which I can recollect.
My mind the only bridge from meaningful to meaningless.
I pinch my crisp blue jeans in hopes that I can still feel that I exist.
I can feel my unmanicured nails piercing my skin through my jeans.
All in hopes of penetrating the impermanence nature of this moment.
The hourglass drips a grain of sand at a time.
Yet, it only takes a second for a desert to form.
Maybe on the edge of the world standing upon a desert I can find solace.
Finding comfort instead of fear about where I end and the infinite begins.
Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 11:27 AM UTC
you are not someone i can bury myself beneath.
you are someone i am meant to forget.
disappearing like dew in the morning,
you are not art, as much as i say you are.
Apr 3, 2020
Apr 3, 2020 at 3:25 PM UTC
The pen is unforgiving of mistakes
Its marks are long lasting
I can’t erase you... only scratch through parts
This story of us will always be there
Written in ink as a complete work
When I draw a beautiful picture though
I use a pencil so that I can change it as I go
Erase this part and add my shading there
Pencil on paper is fragile it smudges easily
You are art... not perfect but gorgeous to me
I appreciate both for what they are
And what they mean to me
Dec 18, 2019
Dec 18, 2019 at 4:00 PM UTC
I sit thinking a little faster than the speed of penning, thereby having to repeatedly press pause on my thoughts to let the ball of blue catch up with the image / the sound of the phrase in my mind / on my quiet tongue that flows fast down my right arm into my slow fingers and out into the ball point that hits the page with part-satisfied impatience
And in that pause, resisting the urge to edit / to revise / to reform the original thought that is crying out to become embedded in the page / begging to be seen / to be loved and so to sit and to stare back at its origin, safe in the curated space to stay / to settle and perhaps to become part of something bigger / longer / older, something of possibly permanent beauty.
And having gotten over that feint-ruled line, my first thoughts face the risk of being transposed / transformed by typing thumbs before becoming something that will last on a plain white screen and later be posted at the speed of competing broad bands into a world wide cloud of words.
Later, having hovered / waited, my wet words just might find a place to soak / to stain / to marinate and later be memorised perchance recitied at a more appropriate speed within a crowd of like-minded minds and perhaps for a phrase to lodge / to be recalled / to form part of something that fate redirects through a ball of blue, back out into the flow.
Dec 17, 2019
Dec 17, 2019 at 2:30 AM UTC
Depression does not have object permanence,
Or it would know
That happiness is merely
Hiding.
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 1:01 AM UTC
I’m always grasping. Trying to retain some form. Painfully and desperately, I try to keep it, shape it, define it into permanence.
This longing for certainty, this anxiety and desire to be— like the statues unmoving, named and certain— to be something I know, forever, and ever and ever.
But our splendor is in our changing, in our ever shifting consciousness. The heart floods and becomes empty again. The breeze of autumn. The hot of summer. My blood on the rocks. The wound tender in infection. The scar I touch like a feather.
We are made in God’s knowing of ephemera, ever changing, ever fleeting. Undefined, and ephemeral forever, ever and ever.
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 7:46 PM UTC
Words are what I try to decipher
Permanence is what I try to leer
Love is what strikes me
But only emptiness is what abides with me
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 7:58 AM UTC
I thought I met the one.
That one you want to love
for the rest of your life,
that one
you would never change
with anyone else.
I thought I met the one.
That one who is able to love you
despite everything.
I know I met the one
I'll never be able
to forget.
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 6:49 AM UTC
I am usually an amnesiac
Which is why there is always
cheap stationery in my pockets
- "An inexpensive set from Faber-Castell"
I look to my scribbles when I'm lost
unless an unexpected shower
has been tasked to ruin them
- "Pages stuck together, smudged and stained"
Three monsoons have come and went
I don't carry an umbrella or run for cover anymore
I stand in the middle of the downpour, drenched
But I guess some inks are just too hard to wash away
Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 8:17 AM UTC
Permanence
Could never be understood
By someone so temporary
Such as myself
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 5:58 PM UTC
Believing in love...
Believing that it will last forever
Is what broke me before
Believing that I was loved
And that that wouldn't change
Made it all so much harder
When it blew up in my face
Believing the words "I love you,"
And "I won't stop loving you,"
Led to my dislocated heart
So how could you blame me
For inevitable insecurities
Surrounding those words now?
Because I love you...
I cannot get enough of you
But every time I ask for a kiss
Or declare that I love you first
Internally, I am petrified
That you could reject me
As damage is more than done
On my self-esteem, on my heart
And I love you so so much
I just wish that didn't scare me
As I'm sick of feeling vulnerable
For the sake of being happy
And you make me so so happy
But that scares me every day
Because I will love you forever
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
The permanence of the effect of our existence and actions terrifies me. This contemporary mood swings both ways, however. My love for love outweighs and overthrows my need for food, for sleep, for air to breathe... And you, I am in awe of... My eyes do not see anything else. My heart does not desire anything else. Forever blinded by pretty girls, my naïve eyes and thoughts are focused on you. My naïve heart beats just for you. I am way too full-on, far too all-at-once, but you admire that about me and I deeply, deeply admire you.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 3:53 AM UTC
Aesthetically pleasing spiderwebs
Dogs fitting perfectly into each dorway
Books over Books over Books over Books
being dead wood covered by dead wood inside of dead wood
surrounded by stone
it´s what I call home
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 3:49 PM UTC
I
The city is in decay -
Has been since it sprouted from the earth like a sapling,
Will be for as long as it still stands.
The only permanence is entropy.
Nature makes its bed
To unmake it.
We are eternal and mortal.
The jellyfish unbecomes itself into the polyp.
II
A millennium ago,
The ocean fell from the sky, drop by drop,
And dragons were a myth.
Dinosaurs came around
And dragons were a myth.
Humans came around
And dragons are still a myth.
If time is linear, time travel is impossible.
If it is cyclical, I have met my descendants.
If it does not exist, then I am still two and twelve and seventeen,
Young and old, a child of Schrodinger,
And eternal.
III
A cup of tea sits hot and cold.
It should one day be ice,
But not today.
Today it is full of salt.
Moses parts the Red Sea
And a motley crew of revolutionaries
Wait for tea leaves to steep in the harbor.
It is somehow simultaneous and distant all at once,
Another child of Schrodinger.
The sea rushes closed on an ocean floor
That is still made of sand.
Dragons are still a myth,
But the fish neither know nor care.
The tea goes down the drain,
And I replace the salt in the shaker with sugar,
As it should have been,
And for now, All is Well.
I walk into the adjacent room and
Immediately forget why I am there.
All is no longer Well.
The world forgot where it came from,
Mammals forgot the dinosaurs,
****** forgot he was Jewish,
And I forgot what I wanted here.
I want more tea,
But I don’t want to remember the salt.
IV
Time is short,
Born, spent, and dead in an instant,
But born and born and born again after that.
The city is in decay.
Teotihuacan was once New York.
Machu Picchu decays into the mountain again,
Venice and San Francisco will one day be underwater.
Kings held slaves when the monarchy thrived,
Nazis rose to power in their wake..
The people revolted against the crown
As their descendants march for peace, pay, and freedom.
There is no originality,
Time has proven this.
It unbecomes itself into the polyp as its feathers turn to ash
And pyramids are born in Egypt, the Americas,
In the courtyard at the Louvre.
Only time remembers when dragons were more than a myth,
And quarks became friends with each other.
One day, humans will be the myth,
And no city will stand, so no city will decay.
Tea will come in only salted flavors,
And dragons in none.
The only permanent is entropy.
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 8:18 PM UTC
You've been
sleeping with the thought of forever on your breath,
but forever was never promised to mortal men.
You've been
ripping her heart out and calling it love,
throwing your fists against every semi-permanent object
and calling it art.
Your skin doesn't like the feel of ambivalence, so you
smoke too much to have a reason for
wasting time in parking lots and for growing dark circles
under your eyes.
You can't stand the thought of
waking up in the same bed you've always been in,
you can't stand the thought of looking at her
like she might mean something to you; so you
chain smoke until the sun comes up,
destroy everything semi-permanent just to say you've left
a mark somewhere. And you sleep
with the thought of forever on your lips
to drown out the notion that something mortal like her
could not last.
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC