"actively" poems
I never sleep, and never will, I hold my breath, quiet, still.
The slightest sound puts me on edge, a snapping twig, a rustling hedge.
It matters not how far I go, how fast I run, how high, how low,
There’s a monster after me…
Huge and hungry, filled with hate, this creature would not hesitate, to slice me up, this is my fate, a pile of parts upon his plate… Yuck!
Fear is the price that I must pay,
For fear is what keeps him away, I tremble softly as I lay, or when I rise throughout the day, I’m terrified, I have to say…
My future frozen by my fear, yet, I know the monsters near!
And if I were to persevere, and let my terror disappear, the monster then would find me here, and chop me up! That much is clear…
Though some would say that I’m a slave, deep... Alone within this cave,
How can they say that this is slavery, actively avoiding bravery? Don’t they know courage is savory, like some tasty monster gravy?!
And, you may say that I am blind, to think that fear is something kind, that fear keeps monsters far behind, well, it’s worked this far, so I don’t mind…
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
I began my life active with sports and other meaningless award systems.
Girl's recreational soccer, basketball, bike riding, math competitions, the works
Today, I feel weightless
useless would be best fit
As if all the running, jumping, yelling, point requiring statuses pushed the light out of my transitioned life.
I find myself sitting in one area often, as one may do
But different than sitting on a bench or sitting actively in company of others
I sit wondering exactly who I am looking at
Why am I empty lifeless longing towards an imaginary spot in the distant wall
I imagine some events in these minutes of stoic despair
Hearing goes weak and frozen, in this second, while I continue my Sunday brunch with non-conformative attitudes and her mother, the sweet old dementia
I don't mean to have their meetings often, I must of first acquainted as the first grade trauma or the Broadway rendition of Alone Thoughts featuring the Broken High School Years.
I hope to work the wheels again, to end these meetings and to live for once, in the midst of motion and pause.
This time, stopping and starting as I please.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
Anom o ly
Non-named, never imagined much less realized
The left hand can't know what the right is doing,
it's a brain matter, grey area, may be a way to
imagine your unique. task, yours, not doable from here
We can do things as us that we never imagine alone.
Is there a need to negate, wait, think,
must one do any act?
Now, I see, emulating Socrates is thought easier than
emulating Jesus. Christ, you know that ain't easy, eh?
Death is the friend of being. Things change from time to time
but, you know knowledge grows in two directions,
the dark part is not evil.
evil is as evil does. The roots that ever live in the earth,
those roots are required, requirements.
Left brain uses the right hand. Don't tell the left-hand
that nearly all it's skill in serving
and being used right,
is used up by the other side.
Right or wrong, is not a chiral question, nor is good or bad. ******** Phillips's head screws with a butter knife is wrong.
It can be done right, but not if you turn it the wrong way.
Drawing on the right side of my brain has always symbolized a crossroads experience, in my mind.
I mean I draw, realistically, with my right hand, left brain.
Maybe, brains are no easier to analyze than time in an immaterial medium of messaging.
I am certain life wins.
Meaning everything you think life means.
Do you think evil is required as an activity for life to actively be?
I doubt that.
Death fixes everything. Fret not. Wait.
First make room, what was the Bronte word? Penetrium, no, cut n paste
[A]t once it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement, especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously - I mean Negative Capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason - Coleridge, for instance, would let go by a fine isolated verisimilitude caught from the Penetralium of mystery, from being incapable of remaining content with half-knowledge.
From <https://www.etymonline.com/columns/post/cloud-of-uknowing>
Happiness demands an agreement
Joy is in process, I agree, I am happy, haps happen and I notice
Note: Bronte was one to tweak fine puns with the word Penetralia: 1. The innermost parts of a building, especially the sanctuary of a temple. 2. The most private or secret parts; recesses: the penetralia of the soul. See Chapter one, Wuthering Heights.
----- From
bronteblog.blogspot.com/2006/03/emilys-penetralium_03.html
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 12:12 AM UTC
I listen actively
Show compassion sympathy empathy
open minded
Non-judgemental
Intelligent
Sensitive
Vulnerable
Loving caring strong fighter
Voice of reason
To everyone but me
Won't give up
Even though have already given up
A thousand times
Stand by friends who deserve it
Stand with lovers with bared soul
Though roses may ***** bleeding finger
Won't stop stopping
To smell summer flowers
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
Here you were thinking
Woww life is really great
When you have people that love you
When you have people that cherish you
When you have people that adore you
But what if, just what if thats all just in your mind
What if you made up this fantasy in your head
About everything you've ever wanted
And everything you've ever craved for
And told yourself that it exists
What if you play scenarios that happen in one way and interpret it in three ways
Multiplying the actual meaning of the scenarios
What if you give credit to a person for being themselves but themselves is a liar
What if no matter if that liar is a liar you're happy with it
As the fantasy in your head is unwilling to let go of the part that liar plays
But what if there's more than one liar
What if they're all liars
What if they've only told you what they wanted you to hear because you have high expectations of them
And they know this and you know this
So technically it's not their fault for being on the pedestals you've placed them on
It's not their fault that you're unwilling to accept the garbage of this world
It's not their fault that you keep fantasizing about a happy life with any and everyone that can adore you
What if, just what if you can actually find that someday?
What if you never find that
You're tired of actively searching for people to give you what you can give them
You're tired of being this woman that expects
And expects
And expects
Should you or could you maintain this fantasy without completely
And utterly falling apart
From shame, from pain from torment
Or should you just let it all go and just..
Just ....
-fir.m
Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 5:44 AM UTC
The dictatorship of our state is profound in its mass propaganda, where the discernment of individuals seeps into an eternal chasm of self-sacrifice on the altar of political conformity.
Let us actively withstand the passivity of our conventional hypocrisy as we engage with this ontological sleepwalk through sinister passageways of presumed social advancement.
In our age of grandiose moralistic eclecticism where imperatives abound, I burn incense and contemplate the cosmopolitan artificiality which lavishes abundant gifts upon our self-opinion.
Criminality is the result of discovery.
So, oh thorn in my flesh, cover those rancid corpses by the veil of popularity, gain and pleasure.
Subconscious social conditioning is the scourge of lustful appearance, don’t you think?
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
To a point
We over promise too much of ourselves.
In spite of how high we value ourself,
We actively listen in effort.
Refilling how much of ourselves we spill.
I am not ashamed to admit that at times I need help.
But it is in these times where I fully understand.
That there won't be another you.
You smile and help me realize that I never want to lose
any piece of you.
Stopping the spill to see how much you effect me.
In reaction to a sudden action of silence.
Most beloved.
It is especially important.
Where we don't have to prove anything to each other.
Just knowing that you are there is enough.
Just know that your love is enough.
It is in these moments.
I stop to think.
Where would I be without you.
Unimaginable
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 3:20 PM UTC
“I don't know how to take this
I don't see why he moves me
He's a man, he's just a man
And I've had so many men before
In very many ways
He's just one more“
<•>
ladies
you know ~ I know
these lyrics and the deep cut
and the familiar rut,
they unsecret in our inner chambers
and there is no bandage to
rip off, which/why the cut
never heals
despite your careful care to never
actively seek out the
irritant
but it finds you
in a rom-com
a particular intersection
a advertisement for half zip sweaters
when saying no to a
particular restaurant automatically
and the emotional shake,
not a smoothie,
part horseradish sweet sad,
part bitter herbs, tasteless bread,
spiced with a blend of
angry, self-loathing, regret,
and rage that your emotions
abduct your composure,
and that it still happens
way too often
a pale of regret,
that it was a lost chance,
the kind that come more infrequent,
and you mourn
the building up inside,
an intolerance for risk taking
which once
was your
most favorite
single characteristic
you liked,
about yourself
Dec 21, 2024
Dec 21, 2024 at 3:07 PM UTC
Author: Kristen Stevens
Current mood: frustrated
Anthony got a firetruck Lego set. The packaging says "ages 5-12". It also makes the claim "designed for easy building and instant play." Now I know he's only 4 but he's smart and not that far from 5 comparatively. I on the other hand am 28. Well outside the parameters age wise. Yet, this smallish box of tiny toys baffled me for over an hour. I have the directions, I've dug through the pieces, and am still mystified on occasion. As I'm searching for yet another microscopic piece of siren or whatever it was, I'm thinking..."5 years! I can't see any 5 yr-old sticking with this for this long without losing his mind. Then Mom would take it away because of the temper tantrum and never gets built. This is stupid! Where did that tiny loopy thing go?...etc" What part of an hour is "instant play" do they not own a dictionary? I could tell them.
Then once it's together, somehow Anthony keeps taking the windshield off. He's not actively disassemble it. He's just rolling back and forth on the floor going "whoo-whoo!" Lego's the most touchy toy on the planet. Maybe he'll get some more when he's 15.
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 7:52 AM UTC
*Movements become sensual while we dance
I am feeding my addiction again
Consistent eye contact creates a trance
Intoxicating escapes will begin
Our bodies act as if we are alone
My fingertips gently touching your cheek
Physical neediness is what I've shown
Sexua1 tension I actively seek
A continual hunger consumes me
I ache for clothing to cover the floor
Ice completes my gratification plea
As emotions are chosen to ignore
Ero+ic pleasure occupies my mind
Fighting the love my heart attempts to find*
© Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved.
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
You actively procrastinate
Most everything you do these days
You really can’t put this off
To live instead of
Dying - as the one ambition you achieve
Why -
Should this be the one project
You actually complete?
Ambition ought to carry us toward something
Sure -
We could carry ourselves toward death
But we say that as nothing
To aim to achieve to be nothing
Enticing
Of course - to bereave ourselves of ourselves
Once and for all
And forego the work
Though we chose it
And choose it again
Choose it again
Aug 7, 2022
Aug 7, 2022 at 6:30 AM UTC
Mediocrity
Mediocre
No good melody
A definition stained on the upper region of my brain
Actively producing fungi fumes
Nauseated, you are excused
Instant hate when uttering its name
It makes our hands shake, to be displayed in such a way
It has no purpose, only an intention
Killing curiousity, by outlining others self righteously
Mediocre is my creative space for acceptance and I have requested an invitation to everybody
No reasoning just letting go of expectations consuming
Hope to see you soon
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 4:00 PM UTC
Contentment, the waist of busy bodies’ blind eye
This constant state might make life pass unnoticed by
And without the essence of our true self to know
Who is to correct the waywardness this world now shows
With technology a constant item of our bliss
We cannot see the natural wonders that we miss
Oh god if you just put down your **** phone
And let the beauty of this world become known
It would fill up the empty feeling in your soul
You get when sitting utterly alone
Because knowing ones own self is a true gift
That comes only to people who actively live
-Megan Ducote
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
I hope this is the last set of letters
Because I am so tired
Of hanging onto these things that
Happened so long ago now
And allowing other people
To have this type of control over me
I love myself now and
That really is an amazing thing
I didn't even like myself back then
I couldn't even comprehend the idea
That I could care about myself this way
And that's exactly the reason
Why all of these past occurrences
Suffocate my thoughts so much
Because I cannot fathom how
People who claimed they loved me
Could treat me the way they did
How I could let them
Use me and
Abuse me and
Manipulate me to such a degree
Where I stayed in those conditions
For much longer than I should have
The reason I haven't let go yet
Has nothing to do with my exes
It has to do with the ways in which
I allowed important people
Those who I shared love and a life with
To hurt me so deeply
It is not about the people
It is not about their names
It is not even about the individual love
It is solely about me and
The love I carry for myself now
And my own inability to comprehend
How I could hurt myself so much
By letting other people
Actively hurt me so much
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 3:14 AM UTC
Agony of the fantasy, so lazily, with no probability
the ecstasy so randomly seen with eyes of atrophy
my heart beats so rapidly for the sake of catastrophe
so i gallantly step on the travesty of the compatibility
i casually see my casualty through eyes of calamity
searching so actively for a canopy of rationality
my mind thinks abnormality is better than conformity
actuality meets versatility or circumstantial amity
thinking elaborately not organically, of reality
a tapestry so naturally put together differently
visually vivid quality is a visible consistency
no commonality, critically crushed by normality
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 3:51 PM UTC
selfless self sabotage
intertwined tight ropeless
walking
down America street
where the best activists
actively left the broken dialogue
actively left
the broken blood stained culture
actively went to sleep
some from violence
some for money
make a living
because in America
the art of killing
obviously open
abierto!
activist activity process of whiteness
on its fall from white-centricity
desperate
many pay to see
many feast their eyes
on screens galore
life is not as exciting anymore
entertained by activists
instead of acting out
out of white-centricity
not like out from the heart
but like out of a self sustained hell
that wouldn’t ask for its son
to be soaked in bleach and implanted violently
with blue eyes
a white-centric optometrist surgeon general
for other innocent children
to drool over with lust
someday wanton to be
a fake white Jesus
desperately inactivist
getting a lot more business
than those many valiant men
women
and children
who fought white-centricity
for our freedom
so we could love a new language
like a universal galactic super hero
whiteness in children yearns for
to be human again and allowed to be also
allowed to be human while also being human
not selfless sabotage
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 10:08 AM UTC
u emerge from the smoke
and merge within again
i ask myself
if you're the same person
inside & outside the smoke
are you?
the haze turns purple
findin yu, gets harder
my rovin eyes..get
not a moment of rest
findin yu &
buildin stories..
distance shortens
between me to yu..
m 'ere
yet i feel
your warm breath
on my cheek..
there are moments
when i want to go
actively insane
this is one such
i can't help myself
can you?
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 9:56 AM UTC
Sometimes I feel like I'm just frozen in space,
Stuck in the fabric of time
Without a purpose, simply static
Not quite floating,
Not actively moving but not stopping either
Hurtling through the stars,
Simply dancing in the dark.
I don't act, I don't try;
I just find myself in the sky
Waiting for you to come, though you never do.
Give me a reason to stay, to leave,
Something to hint that we should be complete
I just want to stop being alone,
Stuck here,
Dancing in the dark.
It's such a shame to be alone
Here among this beauty that I can't appreciate
My mind won't stop focusing on you,
And your inability to reciprocate
So I will remain,
Swirling in this nebula of stars,
Dancing alone in the dark.
You don't want me here
But you can do nothing to stop me
So we're at an impasse, love--
Unable to continue, unable to desist
I just want you to end up in my arms,
But you know this will never work
So I'm frozen here
Forever in love, forever broken
Simply listening to your voice as it shatters the silence,
While we're dancing in the dark.
The sky is lit with a million stars
The void is painted with their light
Space screams with everything left unsaid
For I will, here, remain,
Crying into the nothingness as I am spent
I don't want to keep dancing in the dark.
Stop shutting me out.
You may think you hide it so well,
But I see you, love.
I may be blind in the daylight,
But I hear you loud and clear
You think you wear that mask with such aplomb
But I know you're really a ticking bomb
You're just like me, love
We may hear different tunes, we may not feel the same drums
But you are here too, dancing in the dark.
We're not so different after all.
I don't wanna cry after you,
But I know I will.
Here among the dying stars,
As the sun begins to overtake the sky
I'll keep dancing in the dark until the very end,
Until there's nothing, of me, that's left.
For, after all,
It was you that sent me spiraling into the night,
Awaiting death,
As I danced in the dark for you.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 1:11 AM UTC
buy me on the black market like the instability I am.
watch me hurtle through negative space backwards,
the planet-wide catastrophe of a sun-sized storm in me.
Call me Carbon-14.
it’s the latest piece of my galaxy-sized identity, another chemical
small enough to wage nuclear war.
you’re witnessing my radioactive decay,
the deterioration of everything I used to be into
everything I might be,
a kind of reaction that happens when one of my ‘downs’
becomes an ‘up,’
no aces up my sleeves or full houses of face cards in spades,
but I’ve got straight sevens,
protons neutrons electrons, carbon to nitrogen.
beta decay, the mass production of passive procrastination;
second in command, sidekick sidetracking heroes.
Call me Nitrogen standard 14.
watch me decay into the air that you breathe,
seventh most common gas in the Milky Way galaxy,
keeping things fresh and stainless like my steel armor,
try and make me combust but I’m fireproof, bulletproof,
balanced and on my toes in a defensive position,
fists raised for the fight that you’re going to put up.
my axis is more stable than yours. step into the rings of saturn,
ring the bells to start the rounds, champion takes home the stars,
wraps orion’s belt around their waist and buckles it tight with nuclear waste.
everyone loves an underdog story, but only when they know,
positively, that the underdog will win.
with you and me, it’s a 50/50 on who exactly has the upper hand
and who exactly is going to win, but I’ll make bets with the elements around me,
the carbon that I used to be hashing out 20’s and oxygen
claiming she’s not one for gambling.
baby, you’re in my lungs, you’re in my corner of the ring.
she’ll slip in a 50 like my chances, and I’ll pretend that I don’t notice.
phosphorus is too fiery to root for me,
he’s more of a heavyweight believer than me.
Call me contagious
when my knuckles bloom across your jaw and knock away
all of your sensibility, stability, bruises like moons
as the mirror shatters every reflection of who I used to be.
Call me Carbon-14, but know that I am radioactive,
actively changing, reigning champion of breaking perceptions,
and you’re just the impression of the death that I’m carbon-dating.
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC
What does that mean??
Consumer madness is where we live
So mad, we can make our waste just disappear
Like magic, **** its gone
In a hole ..
.. somewhere, who cares ..
On a hill top plateau ..
.. that used to be a valley, not that long ago
To a place to be dissected by strangers
.. who salvage everything they can
An invisible continent of floating plastic shame
Trapped in the rhythm of the Pacific
Out of sight out of mind
Strangling nature and her beasts
Who gave us this right
We actively recycle but to what end
Did we need to go there in the first place
Does this justify our madness
I think not ..
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 1:23 PM UTC
We are free like a tree in the valley with nothing to see but pesticide dreams.
If you were free, what you speak wouldn't end with prosecution.
If you were free, you wouldn't be dumbing down your senses with alcohol pollution
When nature provides more than enough to lift you as a clear solution.
If you were free, the green pieces of paper would be "My notes",
and not "Federal Reserve Notes" that we owe interest back to.
If you were free, then the walls of the matrix we could crack through.
If you were free, you would be able to choose who could lead your country,
Instead of falsely participating in which dictator puppet reigns supreme in the best interests of the Rich and powerful gaining land resources and money.
If you were free, you wouldn't be on your knees bobbleheading at all the media tells you.
If you were free, you would not accept any leader who actively kills the innocent, and does not say Why, or even show proof.
If you were free, you would stand up, for what's morally right.
If you were free you would look at those in your peripheral
and join them rather than work against in spite.
If you were free, we could actually pride ourselves for being a country all about freedom.
If you were free, you would say NO to RFID chips, already being used on middle and high school kids in Texas, numb, to what is free.
I can't free you, you must free yourself and wake up to the mirage and bombardment of lies Raining down our existence.
If you were free, you would be a threat, everything they don't want.
It's everything we need, with persistence.
Let go of the fear of fear.
When that time comes, just as a flower becomes unfurled,
There will be a triumph for all that's good in the world.
Open your mind, stop the chatter, and wake up. Free Yourself
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 3:15 AM UTC
My childhood was a lonely one,
sat dust-lunged in my room,
while others had fun,
I'd sit in the gloom.
Surrounded, with old books and toys,
football, at all, wasn't my thing.
Not 'one of the boys',
my own lonely king.
Ruled empires, of plastic and prose,
my imagination, sensational flights of ideas!
It actively rose,
along with my fears.
Oh! But if chance would be given,
to redo those days in new ways,
same way I'd live 'em,
in radiant haze.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
Were there no stalkers or high school shooters in the 50s?
Or are social web sites just more influential than our parents think?
Did texts and tweets raise the *** drives and black out drinking?
Or is the thinning atmosphere contributing to mass judgement impairment?
It's strange
that we have a cure for small pox, can remove cancerous cells
but can't convince some to drive home sober.
It's fitting, in a way,
that Mother Nature has figured out a system to keep the human population relatively in check:
we have the technology to survive diabetes and malaria
but access to delicious saturated fats is slowing down and stopping hearts from properly earning a living.
Progress has ended many terrible ailments and has expanded understanding and brains
but has also given more creative ways to be lazy and irresponsible.
A double edged sword, with most likely more benefits than setbacks,
we have all become hypocrites under advancement.
We learn of the monstrocities in far away places we will never see,
yet still do the very things that contribute to its existence.
Sweatshops?
I'll buy an anti-slavery t-shirt!
(made my children. in sweatshops.)
Pesticides?! I'll go organic!
(and perpetuate pollution with the fuel used to import the goods. and continue terrible working conditions)
It's impossible to resist the inevitables, like death and setbacks and corruption
so sometimes it's best not to fight
but to just do what you want, even if it's stupid or lethal or involves making an *** of yourself.
We're all stupid at sometime and susceptible to faulty thinking,
and sometimes advanced thinking leads to inventions that create crutches for living or coping,
but the fields level out
and global common sense always balances individuals who lack the ability to be actively responsible.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC