"actualize" poems
I came to liberate lions from dungeons
I came to share and not stare at you
I came to actualize powers within me
I intend to distribute resources equally
I came to reiterate that all beings are beautiful
I came to make an impact like mountains do
I came to create music with my attitude
I intend that symphonies surround me with their melodies
I intend that children feel safe to open up to me
I came to empower dancers in perpetual motion
I intend to be a witness to the miracles of life’s radiance
I came to scream love songs into forests
I came to hear my own voice echoed by hollow caverns
I intend to create portals that we can travel through
I came to bring back the aurora borealis at all latitudes
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 12:42 PM UTC
In haste...
Behind
Our footprints
Were the scattered emptiness
Of the memories
Of them
On the shores
She left the three parties of us
Me, Samantha
And our traveler friend
They were play things for sunset fares,
She said.
Just yesterday
They were happy to be here
The young flowers now scattered about
This beach shore
Too young to be plucked
Happy to grow up into one party of laughter!
That's how we remember they were here
That's how to plant graveside flowers
For the dead
They were play things for sunset fares
They were not soldiers
They were unprotected, unfed, afraid children and women.
They were not warriors
That's how to plant graveside flowers
That's how we have kept them forever
In our hearts..
You are not forgotten
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 11:53 AM UTC
so
people say that there are things
objects
abstracts
other people
earth's natural boundaries and bounties
that urge or maybe converge the mind
into action - though most probably think the act,
they reverie in what they dream as exceptional.
so
here is an ideal,
a prototype esteemed
like that emblazoned scrap of paper
with the birth names and letters
dotdotdot etc ...
so, tell me
are you aspiring
or laying deep
in the molds ?
will it buy you a ring for your trophy ?
will it make you prolific ?
we would not know happiness,
if only for the grand stories
told to us of our entitlement
to enjoy our senses. well,
look at this container,
you were perfectly crafted
to roam
with intention, across all spaces
conquistadoring and
expanding and
'destroying to create'
whatever the **** that means
and never learning not to rear our ugly heads
to the paradise
breastfeeding
us,
or to the processing
keeping us bred
nice and tidy.
so
there is the ambiguous person again,
and is there something wrong with monotony,
does it imply a good in consistence
does it lend translation to the static
(coming up and out of your roaring mouth;
he is an angel, i grant it worth.)
so
be inspired by feeling.
that dumpster over yonder is what it
is, as your lobes transmit
and lucidly self actualize ::
i am not here to convince anyone
but myself.
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 2:20 AM UTC
first,
a raccoon wrapped within its own intestine.
the asphalt is its grave; i swerve to miss it.
we shared the same air, maybe even a
common ancestor.
someone moved too fast to care.
its the ones with
fast cars and slow minds
pretty faces and ugly intent
artificial kindness but genuine hate
i'm not your friend
just a similar sense of self
it is
fat priests playing golf
lottery ticket paradises
restaurants
embellished mechanized slaughter
fake laughter and even faker love
shopping mall environmentalists
lexus-driving christians
paychecks, TV, lawn mowing sundays
drink yourself to death
please.
the least among us in control
deprived of the mind
the stench of their egos
and their hypocrisy
the gasoline, the cash, and the forced smiles
as i write people die
children die
i'm like many
the fool who knows
but does nothing
the one who doesn't know
that's the good person
the moral person.
second,
a rant, a ****** off rage
the days are stale, self-actualize, the Earth remains the same
dry and motionless
middle-class frustration, planetary confusion,
the ***** of the Earth,
capsized like dying branches
in a wal-mart state of mind,
stupid slobs, rodent minded social egoists
over-organized, clean freak object fetishists
the evolutionary dollar sign
they bay at the moon, it's made of cheesecake
phase transitioning,
you blood clot, Earthly blood clot,
you don't know art
now there's ancient blood on my hands
smokeless, plantless, Earthless blood
detached from Gaian consciousness
stain on the mind
confused, clogged pathways,
clogged with
self-righteous mind flood
piles of ***** tissue,
waning and waxing
force feed me your ******** please
because i have no idea how to answer
in this cultural blood bath
it is the
end of time
the end of mind.
:aaphi
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
788
Joy to have merited the Pain—
To merit the Release—
Joy to have perished every step—
To Compass Paradise—
Pardon—to look upon thy face—
With these old fashioned Eyes—
Better than new—could be—for that—
Though bought in Paradise—
Because they looked on thee before—
And thou hast looked on them—
Prove Me—My Hazel Witnesses
The features are the same—
So fleet thou wert, when present—
So infinite—when gone—
An Orient’s Apparition—
Remanded of the Morn—
The Height I recollect—
’Twas even with the Hills—
The Depth upon my Soul was notched—
As Floods—on Whites of Wheels—
To Haunt—till Time have dropped
His last Decade away,
And Haunting actualize—to last
At least—Eternity—
1.6k
It's amazing,
How words will only actualize our realities
Fully
When they are uttered
Aloud.
And once those unspoken realities transpire,
It's as if the all the air in the world gets caught in a primordial vibration,
And those vibrations
Break the internal balloon
Detaining veracity's ink
Painting our insides like the canvas of Jackson Pollack.
Seeping through soft tissue.
Spilling into chest cavities.
Sloshing around.
Saturating the hues of our flesh.
A single utterance
Resulted in irrevocable emotional
Infiltration:
"I'm in love"
*********
Feb 29, 2012
Feb 29, 2012 at 12:35 PM UTC
Relay the message
There's something I'm detecting
I promise to respect it
But if he's being neglectful
Let me become careful
Caresome
Deceitless
Excuse my grammar
Im speechless
Broad day
Thinking
Dreaming
Wishing
That he's slippin
Falling right off the edge into the ocean
Leaving your heart open
Right? Open ?
When he become irresponsible and lock his keys behind the closed door; tell me that he's the only one who can't access room in your heart!!!
Ocean no!
I hope that you don't dive in behind him and allow yourself to sway from captain to captain
I hate to be captious
But
Mermaids aren't meant to be captured by a man who's heart is fractured
My net is full of caress
So while the both of you is near the cliff; I'm somewhere onshore
Ready to reel you in with so much lure
Tell him
Tell him now
That when he clown
Which results into your frowns
Let him know that I'm in town
Right around the corner
Right up the street
No where far
On the same boulevard
But if you're smart
This is where you'll start
Where you'll Start To finish
Just end it !!
I know I don't have your heart, but I'm still in it
You know how I know?
Because of his senses
His senses, make him ask you; who is it?
Who's the guy?
"How is it that I make you feel low
And somehow your still high"
His blemish
My good intentions
His senses
See how tense he is
Makes my wish list
So I'm whispering
"Do it, do it, do it"
And you are listening
But your lips isn't twitching
You kno he'll lose it
Your eyes are glistening
His eyes is blistering
I wish I was present for witnessing
Strange because I'm smiling for your cries
Waiting for you to tell him goodbye
So I can actualize on his lies.
Capitalize on his disguise
Tell him
Tell him that it's me, who he thought that he was when he was not being truthful
His creativity and imagination
Is ambiguous and hellacious
Let him know that he have your heart, but it belong to someone else
Also make it clear that he antagonized on someone else's prize
And while your eyes are teary; you laugh and tell him that someone else has come to title him as your last
At this point He knew this wasn't gonna last, but he must ask
And ask
Again and again
Who is he?
Then you tell him ...
Tell him that he met me before and I looked him dead in the eyes like a man but didn't shake his hand.
...
Tell him that I basically told him
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 4:33 AM UTC
*With Wings Of Mayhem Covered In September Dew,
She Flies Under The Autumn Sun On An Holiday Overdue,
Through Holographic Designs & Trumpeting Ecstasy,
She Transmutes Her Photographic Lusts Into Riveting Intimacy,
Lightning Visions In Her Empyrean Eyes,
Dreamscaping She Drifts Through Ethereal Skies,
Of Toxic Sanctums & Pulsating Screams,
She Titillates The Trance Up In Her ****** Schemes,
Myriad Stories Of Her Sonnets Divine,
Constructing Fluidic Reveries In Her Comic Design,
Like Chemical Dispersals Veiled In Her Digital Stains,
She Formulates Aphrodisiacal Elixir In Her Lyrical Rain,
Through Dimensional Shifts Of The Fractal Waves,
Her Cosmic Prophecies Actualize Into Sacramental Raves,
A Genomic Felony Concealed Inside Her Superficial Caves,
With Acoustic Muteness In Her Green Shaded Eyes,
As She Gleams Through The Millennial Skies,
In Melodious Echoes, She Whispers Of Arcane Lies.
- 05:28 AM*
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC
God is not static being, but dynamic becoming.
Without human participation,
God remains incomplete, unrealized.
It is up to us to actualize
the divine potential in the world.
God needs us.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
She tattoos scars
Down her arms
And up her legs
A roadmap to the bleeding heart
You'll never see
To actualize the pain
To make it seem real
She takes a blade to her wrist
And finally feels
An exhalation of sorrow
Of hopelessness and doubt
Perhaps only for a moment
But a permanent route
A roadmap of scars
Tattooed on her skin
Hieroglyphic memoirs
Of the story within
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
WILL THIS HUNGER EVER SUBSIDE?
I don't believe I want it to..
I paint my insides and drown them in ink
Leave them at your door to be smeared on your walls with the hope I have create something you cannot forget.
Something that will craze you in manic love once again.
I like it.
The ache so strong in the depths of my core
Eating away at the lining of my being until there is nothing more.
ARE YOU NOT STARVING?
Indifference is a mechanism of defense
Stowing away only the most intense.
I will play pretend I am whole and free until I actualize it to myself that I am indeed
And I will hate you for making me believe to feel as such, it was you I did need.
WE SHOULD NEVER HAVE LISTENED TO NERUDA!
Tied hearts in the dark get tangled and the knots end up in your stomach
The independence of the sun will make you sick as you realize your worldliness.
Together we are heaven
And therefore I must believe we made an illusion.
Reality brings about things we believe we could have only imagined.
I adore the desire of you.
Only the dreams are screaming it is beyond merely you that I desire so lavishly.
And you are just as those allusive dreams I feel the importance of but cannot quite recall so am endlessly trying to figure
(like the word that escapes you when it is the only and perfect one to translate what is in mind)
We could give each other all our love
A piece of overly buttered bread is what we would end up.
Too rich. Too filling. Too much.
Though some would argue there isn't such a
thing.
I AM DISCONTENTED WITH NOT UNDERSTANDING THE MEANING
Sensed as abruptly as the scent of humid bodies and patchouli
I cannot believe you to be but a distraction God threw at me to see if I could deflect that which might hold me from some spiritual duty.
But if so, I'll cut myself loose.
I'll think of you as the pond I once rested against in my travels as a wild goose.
Filled myself with the life that surrounds you an flourishes beneath your surface.
I'll trust I will come upon your easy waters
Or some as tranquil when my wings need rest to further soar.
I always knew you were a challenge to overcome.
And I thought the challenge was to be with you as your greatest lover
When I just got the idea..
Maybe the challenge to overcome is being in love with you at all in this time of mine so ripe
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:46 PM UTC
(W = Anonymous Elderly Woman With Sudden and Severe Dementia)
---
W:
"I was an evil little girl".
I used to stick my tongue out at little boys. They would say,
"SHE STUCK HER TONGUE OUT AT ME".
Then the teachers would always say,
"Young man, she is a respectable young lady and has done no such thing".
So I'd put my thumb to my nose and make faces as they sat".
"My grandmother always raised us to be "GOOOD" "GOOOD" and I was goood.
It was so boring.
They used to get so frustrated with me".
"I was so proud of my father.
Everywhere he went he had to fix people.
He changed things
nomatter where he'd go. He always said
"I CAN MAKE IT BETTER FOR THEM.
IT CAN BE BETER".
He never loved me. Didn't have time. I should call him.
I want to call my father"
Me:
"Did he ever self-actualize and realize that he was making their lives /his version/ of better? Before he died, did he realize maybe what he thought was better wasn't better for everyone?"
W:
"No.
He was a tsunami that changed everything he touched. We girls
respected him.
Listen to me, hah.
talking about such things, on a toilet.
I have no dignity left.
We have to laugh.
Am I crazy?
Me:
"You're no more crazy than I am.
Who wants to be sane? That's no fun".
W:
"That's right!
If you can't laugh,
you die".
Me:
"Earlier, to describe yourself
as a child, you said
you were "Evil".
Do you beleive that part of the reason you were so "evil"
was because you were beautiful?
And you knew it?".
W:
She paused for a moment and pursed her lips in contemplation.
...
"Yes."
The woman nods a slow turtles nod, with both eyes shut and squinting and a pouted mouth.
Her puckered lips fade into a smile.
"Yes, absolutely It was".
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC
This is a letter addressed to someone
Though I do not know their name
I hope that one day we will be together just the same.
This is a letter for my lover
One whom I do not know
I only wish I could put a face to this message that I wrote.
Nevertheless I think that I worry way too much
About things that don’t concern me, or at least not yet
But they itch and they scratch and annoy me, they are biting at my neck.
One day I will be man enough to face my problems, or at least I hope, and I do hope.
I hope that I will not have to face these giants alone.
That I will have someone to hold in the comfort of our home.
And although you are just a faceless, nameless person whom I have yet to meet,
I can’t wait until the day that I can actualize defeat,
And know that I can’t stand on my own two feet,
That I can’t sleep, drink or eat,
Without you.
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 5:25 PM UTC
Heavenly downpour is here
To wash away every fear,
Cleanse the impure souls
And actualize unachievable goals
Heavenly downpour is here
To make the leaves and flowers
Bloom by her superpowers;
The birds dance happily and stare
Heavenly downpour is here
To carry the burdens we couldn't bear;
Enthrone the gloomy slaves
And enliven corpses in the graves
Heavenly downpour is here
To drown faithless failures and sins
And celebrate the lasting wins
To prove that she truly care
Heavenly downpour is here
To announce another harvest year;
Farmers till and toil the land,
Hoping for bountiful harvest as planned
The cloud cackles and tickles
As she sent down her blessings
To the deserted earth in trickles
Touching the trees by caressings
Children play hide and seek
Both the strong and the weak;
The pitapats of hails on the roofs
Invigorate homes to sing and hoofs
Couples savour the blissful breeze,
The scented moment drew their lips
As their hearts and mouths freeze,
Holding hands and waists in grips
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 5:23 PM UTC
I'm uncomfortable
And always tense
In observational
Desire
From my corner coffee shop
Spot.
Unnoticed,
I see simple embrace
One for which
my body aches.
My body breaks
I realize
I'm alone and
In doing so actualize my own fate.
People are aliens
Foreign and speaking a language which seems eerily
familiar but forgotten
years ago.
It seems I am not getting
better at conversing
just daily Rehearsing
The same rhetoric
Stoic lows
recycled and recited
to a new day, a new ethereal face
Inadequate Inadequacies
Inadequately Inscribed,
,described and, imbibed.
Please, oh Lord,
Let me imbibe
before subscribing
to speak to you, me, every and anyone.
Send Help!
Send Anyone!
A person
to make my lips feel
a little
less caustic.
Casual conversation
by the wayside
I want what I had
Not what I can or could have.
I don’t want love.
I’d rather have a dog to put to sleep
than no dog at all.
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 7:41 PM UTC
~for Henessy J. Beltre and all the new Observers of the Universe~
“my goal is to develop a more personalized meaning of beauty, love, and self actualization through my writing.” Henessy J. Beltre
each word, chewed upon,
individually and collectively
as I drive from Roma to Firenze,
long drives in unfamiliar scapes, olive shaded greens,
umbrella trees, and thin thickets of the vineyards planted
in the years notated as B.C.
are life pauses, asking, admission to the clarifying blankness
that commands rifle shots of riflessione (reflection)
your words, goading foaling, are all our goals,
succinctly refined, for doesn’t every and each poem
asks through our eyes what are the visions of
love and beauty that is the actuality we ceaseless seek
avanti signorina!
unleash the wild words that will make your mission
burst from the ancient to the revitalizing, knowing this,
that the universals you seek to dress yourself within,
to share here, to create, to actualize,
are products of your truths
be unaffected by stale mores, conventions dictates,
spill truths, soiled and used, cherished and recycled in
new ways, so that each of one of us
blesses you with one word:
exactly!
31/10/18
on the autoroute to Firenze
read https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2793919/universe/
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 6:35 AM UTC
Hey man listen, it’s not at all what you think
There’s so much more you can do and be
The question for you is, why is it that you’ve stopped?
A climber can never quit so close to the peak
An invisible journey, a growth towards the sky
Like a tree in the field, as the sun passes by
Taking each opportunity, to achieve some growth
A relentless being is the tree, who never cries nor hopes
We are merely seeds, in the whole scheme of things
To self actualize is the prize in this divine disguise
For divinity is, the sight through the dark and cloudy
look around, is what you see a beautiful reality?
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:07 AM UTC
Funny tickles thinking abt ur rebuke if ( I m) not correcting (one) here or there as she, u wonder to what degrees I care or can..
lol
Ur one multi msg...
tweeting
*you're (Glowing star)
So ur (Glowing star)
U r (Glowing star)
And U'r (Glowing star)
Whatever concerns and preferences.
R u more beautiful than u can feel at times between some flattering ego toting...
Not a question I prefer specific answer to.
It is a topic however I offer, entertain and or am willing to be open too.
What must be undone, overcome;
to feel, reveal, accept and actualize a living platform;
to exude the beauty u see and;
(only) lonely
wish to feel;
(for real)
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 10:36 AM UTC
Demons are born in
the venn diagrams of who
you are vs. who
you want to be.
Eclipsing the hell
portals is the only way
to seal the gate to
mental illness.
the only way to
lasso your planetary
pie charts is to self
actualize.
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 9:32 PM UTC
There is no love
where we try to find it
My voice has grown hoarse
just because of this course we have taken
When will the skies ever admit that you are going away forever?
All you ever were
and you ever are is an illusion
You will pass
just like when I asked
"Will you stay?"
I am forgetting the days we thought of us with an irreplaceable value
when my heart would flutter
and my eyes would squeeze out fresh juices of sparkle once we touched gazes
Ah! Such endeavors lead to errors
ones we have not dreamed or thought of yet
ones you never seem to realize
ones you never seem to actualize with to try and at least warn me of?
Maybe you do not mind losing me at all.
Yet where our tiny pieces of happiness lie,
there is a draining void---a blacking seeping through
******* in every source of hope or trust in what has happened being eaten by the truth of change and nature
I should never expect
shant I ever have,
I should not
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC
antagonized, sullen, and unshakeable,
I rest under the shade of a heavy tree,
a crepuscular creature who lives most
at edged breaks of sun, dusk and dawn
my stamina grows in strength, as does my patience and durability,
but I know my insatiable pursuits will fade, or they'll be yielding;
if I want things, I will get them, I will have them, and they are mine
I look over, past the horizontal thing, "edge"
with all the weariness of a battle-scarred lion,
silver-striped with the accumulated congealed
****** flesh of foes under my scuttling claws
that scamper down the ridges of the slower,
quieter animals that I have singled out as mine,
until I am done with games and rip out spines
I am not long in tooth, but I am experienced enough,
to the point, where I do not want to fight very long
for what I have earned, and for what is entitled to me,
and if I must fight long, afterwards, I am vindictive
I look at the horizon, with all the prowess possessed
in my being, in my breeding, ingrained in my bones
I have a greater strength than I have even begun to
even actualize, and I just only started flexing, slowly
I am greedy for the world, every bad beast and cur,
with marrow in their bones, I wish to tussle with,
I will be ready for you, I await you with a sly grin,
come call me at home, for I will be biding, till then
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 12:58 AM UTC
The sun does arise
In that aubade way
It spills out over petals
Infinitely
So silent but a discourse:
A camp of brook and pale-freckled
Leaves,
A clamor of engines
Escaping the scene
Too busy, too distant
To actualize their hum.
At the intercession of wood and modern man
I stood dutiful, tenuous,
Apt to standing still
‘Tween what has my calling
And what, my will:
This aesthetic simplicity, resplendent awe
Stays with the punch-card
On my way to work
But I know I’ll stand at the edge
Once more.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 8:29 AM UTC
-So what do you feel?
I just can’t get rid of this feeling lodged so deep inside of me, which tells me that:
“I need to be seen as someone in front of people’s eyes”
It’s unfathomable. It’s too difficult. It’s beyond me.
Like a black cloud it’s hovering on top of me.
-What are your thoughts right now?
Time is ticking away and all I seem to realize is that,
“Life is getting harder than what I have ever previously thought”.
You have to decide right now, whichever way you need to go.
-And, what are your options?
You either choose to stop whining, quit complaining,
Sit your *** down and get to work in order to,
Achieve your dreams, improve yourself, and actualize your potential
And fulfill your destiny or,
-Or?
You get comfortable with who you are, what you have,
What you do and where you are and that’s it.
It’s your choice to make.
-Exactly. Thank you very much. That’ll do for today.
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 11:15 AM UTC
They ask me about words
and
I forget that they often
don’t know the same words
that I do.
I forget that sometimes my words
and
their words are mysterious
and
often not as profane
as they might be used to.
Then, I remember
that there are countless words,
concepts,
ideas,
and
beliefs that I am totally,
sometimes shamefully,
unaware of.
(all of these based in vernaculars unfamiliar)
None of us live the same type of life.
None of us
have earned passage
through hardship
any more or less
than anyone else.
Ours are circumstances,
unshared.
Not luck, not fate, not grace,
not inherent anyway.
No different than my last name being Claywell
and
my typing that very same name
into the system of The Department of Corrections;
seeing that name,
the same as mine,
unowned by me,
belonging to faces of men
and
women that I have never
and
likely would not ever meet
in our respective lives.
What does it matter?
It’s a name,
no different
or more or less special than Jones or Smith.
The name is mine and theirs,
as unique to us as we are to one another;
poet
or
prisoner.
Person first, second, and third.
Like a story,
a book,
a treatment plan,
sitting on a shelf or locked inside
a mind until the proper moment
providence or provisional,
authored by the judiciary or just
some guy.
(like me)
We live by words,
are released by words,
are transformed by words,
frightening, fitful, fretful or foreign.
Words give us our humanity,
allow us to encourage or enrage,
engaged so as to establish
a renewal,
reestablished ability to
manifest,
to actualize
the abracadabra
of
our own magic act…
our lives.
***
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications 2021
Jul 18, 2021
Jul 18, 2021 at 9:22 PM UTC
No, my heart did not beat faster
When I caught that glimmer in your eyes
No, it is not a home for secrets masqueraded in laughs
Nor a drunken love in disguise
No. My pillow is not a rainforest
Holding my tears, my cries
And I am certainly not enamoured enough
To suffer the low lows, climb the high highs
Of course I do not expect the universe
To let your whimsical words actualize
No. I do not whisper your name in the dark,
When the fear intensifies
No. I do not want to hear your voice
Your cheers of victory or exasperated sighs
The tears keep rolling down my face
I guess I'm good at telling lies.
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 9:42 AM UTC