"affixing" poems
*concerning the pop. narrative -
i'm a wordsmith after all -
someone gives me the raw materials
of islam and (a rainbow) of affixing -phobia
and i can't seem to hammer
the **** thing into shape...
it's, foremostly: a pseudo-phobia.
a misnomer of the phobia compound.*
for a people who have an "irrational" fear
of islam, it seems strange that the same
people gave birth to some form of rationality -
let's just call it islamophobia
not an irrational fear - but rather:
and irritation -
the irritable fear of being suddenly forced
into the extremities of living the daily life -
when something unexpected happens -
mind you, the people who have been forced
into these situations: stop their want
for adrenaline in a base jump, from an aeroplane,
or bungee jump off a bridge.
islamophobia is not a "phobia" as such,
it's not irrational - it's just irritating -
but then again you don't actually believe
a spider to be a irrational creature (arachnophobia),
you don't believe an open space with lots of people
(agoraphobia)
to be an irrational circumstance -
you're facing yourself being irrational in
both circumstances -
since the phobia hides an actual rationale -
islam?
that's much harder - since you're
being "irrational" while someone is actually
being "rational" -
when in fact there's no escaping
that contra of you being "rational"
and the muslim being "irrational" -
not one side is either rational or irrational:
the spider and the open space filled
with people already stated:
you're being irrational;
the fear of spiders is irrational -
but there is no rationality from the perspective
of the spider: what does a spider
know about rationality? jackshit!
there is no such thing as islamophobia:
because you're not being irrational about
what has its own rationality -
its own monologue and intra-dialogue...
whoever coined this stupid word
is as dumb as their rationality allows them
to make enough people use it;
it's only an irrational fear: if there is no
rationale behind it;
point being: there's rationale behind islam,
ergo there is no such thing as
islamophobia.
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 7:08 PM UTC
*Beethoven once said of the cantor of Leipzig
“Not a stream but an ocean.”*
Sebastian Bach wove sonic tapestries
and scoffed at notions of genius
“Anyone who pays the price can do it.”
Whether for Sunday’s choir or *****
or for a palace fete of state,
The fountains of his bounteous spring
embellished every age and station.
Yet he could crack a joke or two
in a cantata to coffee’s pleasures -
sipping from a sturdy cup
of nature's matchless brew.
Flutists, fiddlers, singers, organists,
children and masters alike,
have netted hearty sustenance
from the seas of his boundless vision.
But modesty forbade him boast
the importance of his station -
affixing to his noblest works,
a trio of humblest words,
“Soli Deo Gloria.”
December, 2007
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 3:40 PM UTC
There is a hairs breadth between agony
And serenity. You must dance the fence
Like jumping wildly over a broad flame
And play the line between torment, torrent,
Or truth. There is no room for error here.
You must caress the demon in your mind
And sooth him, and feed him, and care for him
For this is the key to finding freedom
You must bottle your hurt and keep it safe
Affixing a sure gaze on the hour
Watching for changes, studying each bit
Of its black, grey, green, red pulsating form
So that if it breaks loose, you may find it
So that if it attacks, you may retreat
And retreat, you will, to your teary crypt
You must caress the demon in your mind
You must stitch it to your being, intentionally
Pushing the needle each time more deeply
And pull the wailing fabric through the mass.
Your body must convulse, leak; naturally
From time to time returning to this start
It is imperative that you are ready
In your heart as it beats double bass line
So that if it attacks, you may retreat
The line between paradise of your mind
May be found within each of your sorrows.
In what you remember or learn from them
And from the beauty of experience
Worthy, fully, of valuable heartache.
You must accept this, it is inevitable.
Assimilate your minds fictitious factions,
It is imperative that you are ready.
You must caress the demon in your mind
So that if it attacks, you may retreat
It is imperative that you are ready
For this is the key to finding freedom
There is a hairs breadth between agony
And serenity
You must dance the fence
Oct 1, 2011
Oct 1, 2011 at 12:01 PM UTC
the city winds had ****** me up and spat me back out,
and i thought i was so hip and unknown, with swirling
leopard prints and black gloved hands. a boy by my side
that looked at me with thunderstorms.
the city buildings shadowed me and protected me from
the truth attempting to leave bruises on my
buckled knees.
a tourist in uncharted waters, a damsel
who continuously puts herself in
distress.
my hair was Medusa, his fingers were
Dionysus, and when they fused,
our Mount Olympus was created, tasting like
berries and scratching at snake bites
scabbing and itching to be
reopened.
his kisses tasted like nostalgia.
i’m an american girl who is super glue, affixing
herself on whatever will stay long
enough.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
Escaped, is that truly the objective adjective
A feeling perhaps everyone has projected
Or are we seeking within filling to feel secure
Are we affixing words for our selfish cures
Let us take our thought and dissect its pieces
Fit the jigsaws, does it compliment with ease
Photographs stuck on milk cartons like cement
The directive is the fleeting human element
Living in ones past, shadowed assurance from last
Foibles of human inquiry questioning with haste
Lapsing the collective logic of the inner sage
Soul bombarded, thwarted, strengthening with age
Examine not observe nor merely think your being
Vignettes to films are you truly sure your seeing
Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 12:20 PM UTC
while out and about
an unexpected over bare ring bout
to defecate arose,
where sphincter asserted clout
and would excrete
despite without doubt...
if closing distance
(to reach rental abode)
beaten out by loosening sphincter muscle
transmitting excretory code
set sights on prowl for outlawed, secluded,
and wooded make shift commode
and essentially for naught negating
toddler toilet training, sans
getting ***** trained undone
via my ***** ready to explode
and blast immense solid waste byproduct
(oh...close to the size of Rhode Island)
thus a marathon race against time
found immediate readiness to pull off roadside
to access make shift water closet
generating image firmly in pooping mode
grabbing hold of a tree trunk
(a mini rocky horror picture show, -
this analogy included for no particular reason
other than as a non-sequitur)
and also to convey, how I tried
to allay distractions
while painful contractions flowed
(perhaps approximating a woman
on verge of giving birth)
but...no matter, aye could envision,
an ever increasing heavy m**f*** load
hence approaching Highland Manor Apartments
this chap abandoned
prior simultaneous evacuation plan
starkly aware probability for secluded spot sunk
(nonetheless, thy darting darting
anguish, futile lizard like lookout,
a geico Gekko whose cheeks did blush
even for a measly Georgian bush
quickened nsync with ****** spasms
visual scouting industrialized
where backhoes didst crush
once a time sacred happy hunting grounds
of native Americans, now flush
with newly built vinyl city re: urban sprawl a gush,
where cookie cutter houses long since bringing hush
puppies muzzled, yet never the less and mush
a doo doo about nothing) except sprint
ting to a void push
immortalizing indigenous tribes ghosts rush
peopling infrastructure affixing
urbanization with their warrior whoosh!
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
Everything happens at once. The mixing
of blue-green dropping white on cold brown rocks,
a maelstrom of water sounds affixing
themselves to fine hovering mist which talks
pouring and pounding to the surroundings,
flat river interrupted; sculpted liquid
fluctuations arising / collapsing
ever-changing life depicted in mid—
crest: trough, tribulation, swirl and foam,
scented moisture feels soft over the jagged
undercurrent. A fish jumps. Water carves stone.
We are released: through spray the river flows,
exiting the eddy and peacefully home.
Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 12:30 PM UTC
I'm addicted to wasting my time and searching for new beginnings
New beginnings that don't exist because I can't finish what I started
But inside I know that I am looking for something perpetually new
I'm stringing to the idea of our thoughts affixing
I hope that your lips are as honest as your mind and as pure as your heart
I'm thinking of how to resolve this war between my vanities and your altruism
I believe our friendship is stronger now than ever
And I'm hoping that you see it too
Because the way you laugh and how you make me smile
Is worth more than a mere sign of benevolence
But a merge of amity and ecstasy
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 8:44 AM UTC
your words cut deep,
deep in the flesh of my soul
and that was how it’s always been,
I guess. And we were just waiting for
words to go between the words we said,
to add up to the little things that brought us
together, saying words to each other slowly,
without affixing other words that can drive us
away from each other, like when the love was said,
and when the love was gone, and all we ever did was
say ‘I don’t love you no more,’ instead of what we always
told each other, as if the words ‘don’t’ and ‘no’ are always just
negatively inserted between the cartridges of our vocabulary, and instead
of loving each other more and more, we settled on elisions, thrown between
our words, our sentences, our 5 AM conversations, our used-to-be-connections.
your words cut deep and we tear our tangled limbs. elision. that’s what it will be.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 10:42 AM UTC
Reluctant to Obey destiny’s call,
The voice from within me re-echoed
Loud as never to ignite mine passion
To in me trigger an avid obligation
Write on was the command
I looked around keenly to see
From whence came the urge
Before long I realized that
The scary charge was within
Write on without hesitation
Then I knew there was a task
Gigantic in nature waiting
I cogitated on how to initiate
And realized it was pragmatic
Write on the time is now
The command again came to me
The urgency of the task ahead,
Was in it undoubtedly spelled out
And now am left but with one thing
To start writing on as commanded
Write on for there is inspiration
Pages never can contain the fountain
Of knowledge lying latent in you
Dare to take the golden pen to
Your thoughts & imaginations pen down
And be so much amazed at the outcome
Which to many shall be a resource
I reached out for pen & paper
Pondered a while to receive inspiration
Affixing pen on paper I began to write
As I dare took the challenge insight abounded
My pen had became unstoppable
My ink flew unceasingly to document facts
I sort to halt and rest but no way
Passion to finish the task had consumed me
I wrote on what should become masterpiece
If I had ventured to stop the call
The volumes of wisdom would exist not
For eternity would have me swallowed up
Knowledge in me would have been wasted
If I never heed to the call to write on
The cemetery would have grown richer
With my joining those who refused to write on.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 11:25 AM UTC
Who carries enough weight already
Shoulders taught, bowing backs under
The extent that is already carried
Strength born from what was torn asunder
That the burden we all place
From misguided necessity
Would hardly disrupt their pace
Sheltered from all uncertainty
A true hero, to save us from ourselves
To walk their fragile line, keeping us afloat
Lest we drown somehow, in our own murk
Shifting, grounding
Shouting out our names
From somewhere behind us
Furthering our doubt
While always reassuring
Keeping us in place
Granting us our freedom
To ignore what we came from
Picking up our broken remnants
Engorging always
To feed a toxic ego
Reaching out ahead
Affixing our alluring
Goal, so we would miss
How it's come to be
What we would achieve
If given half a chance
I guess we'd be indignant
Should we shoulder burdens
Similar in scope
To struggle with the truth
Internalize the world
How it is, not how we'd like it to be
Or how it's been perceived for us
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 5:45 AM UTC
The Pleasant Difference ‘Tween The Spiritual & Scriptural
How to say this briefly:
How to find words for the inexpressible.
They exist.
Here is the gist:
Components - churches, sects, cults,creeds:
The claim of being chosen.
Inner spirit doesn’t need a system woven
Into scripture claiming knowing
What is best for all.
One wherein if you’re good you rise
And if you’re bad you fall.
The faith-based places emphases
On unity of life within the mixture of belief;
Consensus, peace and joy, and getting these;
Transcendent over time and space,
The sense that you are face to face
With truth above reality,
Its indescribability.
Not impossible to voice
With Love that comes, fear that goes!
****** no, more loving kindness big & small,
Universal, if you will.
Permeating, calibrating,
Affixing to an All that’s spirit: all in all.
Practices to help along:
Meditation, psilocybin, prayer and song.
The non- theistic preference
Needs to be demystified,
With road for genius or dunce.
Not piety, religion, magic, paganism, or god-based;
Theological or physical,
But meta-, deeply meaningful,
Yes mystical:
The core of all.
The Pleasant Difference ‘Tween The Spiritual & Scriptural 4.4.2017
To The Child Mystic II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Nature Of & In Reality;
Arlene Corwin
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 4:16 AM UTC
A witness to Epochs
sired in miniature
Arabias, listening to the drawn-out
gasp of God, our
sleepy master rising from their
daybreak chamber
Future fatherhood adorned/Sunkissed mirage of
Irises doubting, adrift &
hazel/Adulthood is an aching spectacle
between selves/pinewood casts salivating for
devotion
I willfully lend to the wild Palace of my mind,
affixing gargoyles
and Memento Mori,
dispose of playthings & grieving Tulpas
with great inclemency,
marking dates to see the gold spring from my
Hiraeth Valley
I dream of shadow music
and the Sea, Oyamel trees quiver
at an approach, here-
Another turning
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 2:36 AM UTC
I've read all of my notifications
answered all my quiet messages
affixing, affectations
Quipped and prosed, some replies
yicked and yacked, and had
laughter, cry's, and sighs
Bounced, from hither to yon
words flitted, where to there
yet here, and never gone
Responded too, new and old creations
words and lines from heart, and soul
filling all, my poetic, expectations
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 10:26 AM UTC
The serpentine and ageless liquid
mercurial possessed snake
eternally swallowed
since the beginning of time
one unquenchable thirst to gorge and slake
slurping up an icy cold mountainous pebbly shake
yet fresh as an irish spring
using thy tongue o gaelic spake
then tumbling down into the cavernous abyss
subsequently carving
a deep criss cross patchwork
across the rock hard rugged topography
like the handiwork of some invincible force
commandeering a humungous rake
affixing legendary signature
quasi-indelible grooves
only for the near indomitable
chiseled masterpiece
to be erased, twisted then wrenched
by that natural landscape altering phenomena
identified as an earth quake
creating a fresh tabula rasa to begin anew
inviting waters from on high to carve
from the ebbing and flowing millennial currents
which eventually find a more direct course
beginning as trickling creek
swells from winter rains
and thence in summer while the sun doth bake
when flora blooms and fauna prance
the firmament then abandons
bent elbow oxbow lake
as a former bend in the river.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 11:56 PM UTC
do you think we could put aside the internal asides prattling past rapture gone rupture, table or under the table throw those scraps to the dog that's pawing in favor of what's under our noses, on the plate facing up at us smiling a reflection in a circle of ceramic glaze gazing past the imperfect ramifications crystallized in those times and bones that still do bind and also occasionally chafe when they chime, the fragmented fancies that danced behind eyelids then knocked back the whites taking unglued precedence while neurons sat back and just watched momentum pulse, so stunned to find where you stopped there I started, and the only push-pull was helixical orb tossed on linguistic winks kinking our forever-tied lines that plead underneath the jilted to stop slanty-eyeballing the looking glass crass, affixing shark fangs where one once only saw wings, though truth be told, I have both of those things, but drain you, I won't, and feed you, I will, leaving marked memoirs of my work, but it'll be your fault, really, evoking the majestic while summoning the animal that reminds me why I'm knees-grateful to be a woman
?
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 10:04 PM UTC
My Abandonment Issues cordially invite your Abandonment Issues to usurp their lack-of-shit-togetherness with a fusion of festivities!
What: A.I. Fusion Fest
Where: Sunny Padded Land
When: Now - You Can Never Leave
Activities Include:
- Acro Yoga
- Tandem Biking
- Graffiti Affirmation Wall
- Cuddle Puddle Grotto
- Synchronized Trust-Falls
- Sock Puppet Heart-to-Hearts
- Fear Archery w/ Custom Targets
Don’t miss the main event!
Three-Legged Race
Utilizing all the greatest affixing technologies (including, but not limited to: rope, Duct Tape, Super Glue, Gorilla Glue, wet cement, bungees, resistance bands and all variety of ******* the race will begin by the Fountain of Unknowns, ascend over Mount Paranoiac and finish down in the Valley of Chillax AF, where there will be infinite punch and pie.
No need to RSVP. You’re coming.
:)
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 12:35 PM UTC