"alignment" poems
---
in
the
crystal
water bubbles
reflecting there are
golden koi
in
the
mossy
depth of feathers
ancient moonlight
is the buoy
around the
blue-grey stone's
alignment
sand is raked
in perfect poise
every
leaf
has its
assignment
crickets make
a creaking noise
---
there
within the
island garden
small and jewel-like
in the grove
amidst
kimono and the obi
there's a peace
the Nippon know
muted colors
placid faces
the paper lanterns
sway and glow
the lords and ladies
sit for hours
where
the
lotus
flowers
grow
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 9:00 PM UTC
Can you feel it
Shh, allow the galaxy to pamper your body, blanket the essence of your mind, bit-by-bit
Travel on a higher awareness to understand the galaxy’s gentle gift
Close your eyes and allow your mind to softly drift
Soft Moonlight Dust
Illuminating the night skies, given warmth of its inner trust
Centered in the sky, a star abates for its enlighten ******
Kindred minds to enrapture, as souls physically adjust
So gentle, as a touch to the skin
An inner space to conquer, there an exploring craving begins
Awareness of self stirring into the constellation
Bodies attuned beyond the stretch of imagination
Savoring on the flavor of the alignment sweeten taste
Desires igniting an inferno, the heat of its flames refusing to wait
Overheated friction surrendering without debates
Runaway yearning weakening in the presence of fate
The ecstasy of the moonlight’s dust felt, abiding to the crack of dawn
Emotions of the elixir slowly withdrawn
A Cheshire moonrise
Always a sacred communion given in surprise
Masked feelings hidden behind the stars in our eyes
Sprinkles of pixie dust as the moon becomes full
Paired upon, as lace meets wool
Interwoven and tenderly spun on a galactic spool
Stars In Exile
Twinkling for eyes to glimpse beyond the earth’s smile
Canopus to Antares, oh how you make me shine
Closing my eyes, coveting your point as I’m making you mine
Settled and glittering as small diamonds binding in the sky
A wondrous elopement to experience in the blink of an eye
Soft whispers to the ones that shoot right before they fall
Such a beautiful and breathlessly cadence to wish under them all
The Gift Of The Sun’s Stroke
Umm, shooting stars kept me awoke
Relentless bodies bathing under the moon
Caresses, touches, entwined souls echoing the note of its weakening tunes
Sweeter and sweeter, deeper and deeper
Bodies fueled, hot as a heater, bodies climbing steeper and steeper
Heat consumes the interior of the temple
Sweat of life, as movements come together and then disassemble
Elated, sedated, dipping in a cool blue lagoon
Kisses under the sun on a beautiful afternoon
Temperatures rising not a moment too soon
June slamming into summer’s heat
A merriment of a sun stroke basking in the glorious feast
The galaxy and its spicy passion
A gift to the world to enjoy in any unbridled fashion
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
Quiet mind, immersed
in palest, warmest yellow.
Molecules within
find alignment
with infinity.
Silvery mercurial fluid
paints my bones
with gentle light.
You have come back.
Abundantly, warm salt
water envelopes me.
Even in this chair,
in this empty room.
On dry land.
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 3:04 PM UTC
My arms wrapped around you, yours around me.
We stand together in our now natural hug.
Although my height is sometimes a challenge
You feel warm; your back is straight and toned.
How does our hug feel from your side?
Does my back feel firm or yielding?
What is the sensation under your fingers?
Of the fabric next to my skin, my undergarments?
Our hug is just one
Of a striking variety we receive in a lifetime
From friends, lovers, family, near-strangers
An act seemingly simple but in truth, complex
The first hug you remember from childhood: your Mum
Warm and safe, and maybe a little squeezed
But her blouse is soft, and her arms reach around you nearly twice.
You are so small, and she is so big.
Your teen-age years, acquaintances: single arm hug
Air kisses, a quick pat, a gentle rub
It’s social hugging to keep up appearances
Feeling awkward, you’d rather shake hands
Your first true love – long, grasping, gasping embraces
That leave invisible marks on your clothing and skin underneath
A desire for another, the promise of more
Maybe in future, the touch of your fingertips on clothing-free skin.
Again a hug from your Mum, 40 years after her first
The alignment is different; somehow she has shrunk
Still warm and safe, yet with a different body tone
A kiss on her cheek is soft to your lips – a hug to last the ages.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
Craving your luscious lips right next to mine.
Reminiscing the moment when we experienced Cloud Nine.
It began with a French kiss, then biting your hard *******
That further progressed to smacking your buttocks, creating small ripples.
As our clothes depart, we escalated the ****** tension with every touch we had marked.
Passion so intense, penetrating ever so deep;
We grasped the feeling of ecstasy till that moment when we couldn’t breathe.
Experiencing love and bliss that felt like an eternity…
How fortunate were we to experience the alignment of our souls unbound.
Till the moment we parted ways, leaving memorable traces so profound.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 7:49 PM UTC
She captures autumn
in a jar
reads the moon's straying
through leaf and branch
Always in love
with love
and always reeling
from the loss
What wave tossed this refugee
ashore?
What alignment
of stars and planets
of uncountable galaxies
brought this woman
to this world and not another?
A simple truth will tell.
The moon at high tide
hides beneath her skirts.
A slight disturbance
in the silken fabric
of space and time
and all is lost
all is born.
I hold my hands out
palms up
in prayer and thanks
every day
to mark the blessing
to place a peg
in the whole.
Given to all
denied to none
and mysterious to most
Life pours out of
a hole in the sea
leaves nothing
and everything
to chance.
This blessed world.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
Forest inquires:
How do you decide, choose your design, find its guise,
give it a face, surrender to the poem's own
vanity,
and choose the poem's alignment?
an answer forms:
this alignment idea,
you think it simple,
everybody understands
what your inquiry means
alignment - the appropriate relative position
we live in relative position to each other, our poems too, for they are but written synapses of our close captioned interactions, seemingly random, but assuredly not, as we invest in ourselves, seeking the mysterious appropriate answer
from the Theory of Poetic Relativity
i love your question; hold it to my nostrils,
smell the coffee aroma wake up blast inherent;
kiss its robust childlike cheeks for the simple soulfulness essential arousal;
for you see sir you have found
the appropriate position that relates us, our mindful words;
answer no good, wholly insufficient?
perfect.
as i close this quick cooked to perfection laboratory solution, take note
the earth has moved
our hearts have beaten a measly thousand times
time and space have appropriated our prior
relativity
when you return years hence this poem's shape will perforce have moved. for words are weathered flux constant and yet inherently unchanged except for the part of us that changes with every re-reading
and what was
right before has left and the center has moved again
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
There are parts of me that I am still learning to accept.
It's in the roots of my hair,
Embedded under my skin,
It darkness my knees,
On the bridge of my nose,
Rolls off my tongue
To the alignment of my toes.
And as I grow, they too grow with me.
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 12:08 PM UTC
Here Kitty, Kitty,, called aloud the man~relaxing in his Lounge chair~while sipping a Slightly-Sugared Iced tea. Here Kitty, Kitty,,He continued to call~wondering where the curious cat~might have have made off to~THIS TIME.. Perhaps to the New neighbors~where boxes of all shapes and colors~were carefully~Disarrayed in the back yard~Just waiting for the curious... Not getting any response from Kitty~the Man decided to PEER over ~the Neighborhood Alignment Fence~and Sure enough~There was Kitty! Kitty was Springing~Up and Down~Like a YO-YO and Jumping from Box to Box. Curiosity is an Amazing thing~Isn't it? The Man seemed to be caught in a Trance~As he watched Kitty~continue to jump and YO-YO ! What could be in those boxes?~that held such fascination? Was it a Creepy-crawler~a Slimy-Slitherer~a Wise-Wiggler~a Dashing-Dancer~an Awful-Awesome~a Yelping-Yeoman~an Energized-Egrit~an Ugly-Duckling~a Fast Frog~a Gorgeous-Gargantula~a Social Secret~a Horrible-hulk'a Raspy-Rascal~an Insensitive-Iguana~a Jumping-Jackal ? OR , was it simply the color of the Boxes ? Look at that Curios Kitty~Jumping and Jumping and Jumping ! SUDDENLY___the Man~Totally overcome by ~Lady Curiosity~Bounded over the Alignment Fence~Dashed Promptly to the Boxes~Scattering them all over the Yard~Trying to Discover ~ "THE SOURCE" .. Only ONE box remained ~after opening~All the Others! NOW he would find the ANSWER! He carefully approached the LAST BOX~Gently pulled it closer~looking for a way to Open~------- Lifting Lid carefully~Slowly~KITTY~came Bounding out~All claws~digging and clinging to His chest~Was that FEAR_~~__HE SAW in KITTY'S eyes?___ "AS His ALARM-CLOCK ,, Screamed out to Him___"AWAKEN______
Jun 15, 2011
Jun 15, 2011 at 4:15 AM UTC
Good morning, my friend.
As we awake to another beautiful sunrise,
your eyes radiate the burning star of your soul and
shine upon the cold moon of my heart,
allowing you to see me as I truly am;
A simple mixture of water, rock and minerals,
working in perfect balance to float through the empty vacuum of this space.
Your light shines upon my imperfections,
laying them bare.
The warm glow of your rays has sprouted life
in this barren landscape.
I yearn for your gravitational pull.
If my inching towards you throws the solar system out of alignment,
then I will stay close by as we watch the planets collide and
the milky way melt into shooting stars,
nourishing the primitive life forms that grow inside me until a
new ecosystem sprouts from the combined forces of our energy.
Good morning, my friend.
Thank you for your sunshine.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 7:39 AM UTC
building purist æsthetic
proselytizing solar-powered heliolatry
commemorating historic concert
sensing dark forces
fokken lekker antwoord
pumping sensory overload
featuring high-tech dee-jay
admiring gelato micro-truck
laxing laying lazing
"doing something nasty"
continuing quality content
entering another cathedral
journeying without borders
"exactly one year
since visiting vatican"
appreciating full-time gigasphere
awaiting pyongyang performance
depicting unlikely crowdsurfer
foreseeing exponential improvements
furthering esoteric agenda
sensing profound incompatibility
data-mining people's infidelities
anticipating futuristic caffeine
perfecting invisible propaganda
researching mind-control techniques
polishing psycho-social weaponry
sensing social embargo
flourishing frantic fanfare
admiring longitudinal monument
parodying marketing slogans
cycling through österreich
eyeing dystopian disneyland
streaming crosswords extended-play
herding glass kittens
deleting idiosyncratic fragment
loremipsum-ing laconic loudmouth
receiving ultramodern telegram
eigo-ga wakarimasu ka?
guzzling duck-fat fries
encouraging panic selling
(juxtaposing past incarnations)
getting black-and-white privilege
renewing boutique account
relishing cinema poutine
re-entering hibernation mode
opening old windows
continuing zoo motif
absquatulating excessive excesses
nullifying originality claims
proliferating protean persona
disappearing sidewalk alphabet
shrugging opprobrious moments
enjoying vertical alignment
re-entering cyberpunk paradise
approaching island sun
soaring beyond monoliths
trivializing extraneous argy-bargy
decreasing character limits
dumping generic accounts
uglifying commit message
escaping into idiosyncracy
moonshining great lake
exuding idiosyncratic propaganda
living nineties' dreams
making occidental cuisine
envisioning idiocratic president
expropriating your time
ascending homely helix
singing fat lady
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
I have so many secrets under my tongue.
I want to tell you that when I say "I don't care" I really mean:
I care too much. I see the way your shoulders curve downwards when you're with that someone
else that isn't me and I see the way you make yourself smaller to try and fit inside some definition
of love. I want you to know that I want all of you, so much of you at one time that the doctors are scared
I'll overdose.
What I mean is, you were it. And you are it. And you are everything.
And if you don't know what I mean by this, I mean- look at the stars.
Look at the ground, look at your feet. Everytime I see you I wish for roots.
So I can't move. So I can dedicate my stillness to never letting you make yourself smaller for me.
I want to tell you that when I'm silent I mean:
I hope you're doing okay. I hope you stop losing people.
I hope everyone who gets to see your smile knows how lucky they are.
I hope your bed curves to your back everynight, appreciating the freckles.
I know the constellations are jealous of your alignment.
I want to tell you that when I look at you and look away I'm thinking about imminence again.
How one day we'll see eachother and it won't be too late and I'll say oh my god, you haven't changed a bit.
And we'll laugh because who the **** am I to make any sort of comparison?
I want to tell you that when I say "I don't care" I really mean:
I care so much it keeps me awake.
I really mean "I love you even when I'm sober"
It all comes down to this:
Praying to Osiris to find me again.
Turns out I'm pretty lost without him.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
it’s just like,
im everything.
and you’re not enough.
so where does that leave us?
i know what i have to do..
it’s time for me to leave,
but letting go is always the hardest.
perhaps in a couple millennia,
or maybe even, in another lifetime,
we’ll be together.
but for now,
it’s time for me to leave.
i wish i didn’t have to go..
because we could be everything,
we *could’ve been everything.
because our hearts connect and throw the stars,
one touch and everything is out of alignment.
your hair running through my fingers and everything starts to make sense again.
i crave the connection.
crave the love.
but it’s just not enough.
and because of that, i have to leave.
it’s time for me to go, and find what’s meant for me.
travel across the galaxies and
let another to steal my heart.
and perhaps
just maybe,
one wondrous day,
in another universe,
we won’t be starcrossed lovers.
and your heart won’t belong to another.
-v.la
Jul 3, 2019
Jul 3, 2019 at 5:31 AM UTC
~Christi Michaels~December 2015~
**the air presents tranquility
zephyr winds which blow on high
swirling within the troposphere
veiled serenity
clouds stealthy shift
covering brilliant, poignant stars
air masses
a juxtaposition
tension exists between...
omnipresent
yet unseen.
the sky illuminates..sparks of light
swarms of fireflies
ubiquitous in flight
there is a calm
steady as a drone
unwavering in its commitment
to a reality yet unknown.
till the shift proceeds
balance moves to tilt
calm planes of matter
Present ready to meld
celestial balance
no longer in alignment
exploding outward
defying confinement
fragile realization
of a squall revealed
friction surmounts
air becomes thick
atmosphere now dense
expanding as it pulls in
a tempest has arrived
opposition exists
shards of electricity
violently ripping open
the sky above
zephyr winds which
blow on high
the inevitable calm before the storm**
* * * * *
Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
*In his breakthrough work of channeled literature, I Am the Word, author and medium Paul Selig recorded an extraordinary program for personal and planetary evolution as humankind awakens to its own divine nature. I Am the Word is an energetic transmission that works directly on its readers to bring them into alignment with the frequency of the Word, which Paul's guides call the energy of "God in Action."
Paul was born in New York City and received his Master's Degree from Yale. He had a spiritual experience in 1987 that left him clairvoyant. As a way to gain a context for what he was beginning to experience, he studied a form of energy healing, working at Marianne Williamson's Manhattan Center for Living and in private practice. In the process, he began to "hear" for his clients, and much of Paul's work now is as a clairaudient, clairvoyant, channel, and empath.
Paul has led channeled energy groups for many years. In 2009 he was invited to channel at the Esalen Institute's Superpowers symposium, where he was filmed for the upcoming documentary film Authors of the Impossible. He is the subject of the feature-length documentary film Paul & the Word which will be released late summer, 2011. His workshops in 2011 include Edgar Cayce's A.R.E. in New York City, the Jungian Center in Vermont and the Esalen Institute in Big Sur, Calfornia. Also a noted playwright and educator, Paul serves on the faculty of NYU and directs the MFA in Creative Writing Program at Goddard College. He lives in New York City, where he maintains a private practice as an intuitive and conducts weekly, channeled energy groups.*
Personal and planetary evolution- Live channeling with Paul Selig
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAgh2pXDDls&feature;=youtu.be
Waking Universe With Guest Paul Selig
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7BI0Lgb9Kk&feature;=youtu.be
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 8:19 PM UTC
"You're not a lot of fun to be around" she blurted
Not the first time I've heard it
I went
From being bullied to being A bully, was never meant to be permanent
You can probably guess what temperament brought more enjoyment?
So there's a solid argument to be had for it being a just verdict
But if you've never been in that predicament hold your judgmental hyperbolic rhetoric
Most folks seek out that kind of empowerment but keep it quiet, I'm just admitting it
Look, nobody's perfect but the crime has never fit my punishment
Pushed and shoved "getting back to the old me" to the back burner, against my better judgement
Cause I didn't bother with it any further, now a derelict social misfit
Then when it's my turn to take back the moment
My retort, a one and done statement;
Fck you, fck the planet and fck everyone on it
Easier to parrot that then to admit no one can stand me past the first minute
I don't know if it's the misplacement of hurt and anger, a cover for inadequate social alignment
Or a relentless deep seeded resentment for the general public
Not sure but it definitely feels organic
This old dog ain't capable of learning a new trick regardless of any enlightenment
Kinda sad isn't it?
©2024
Jan 16, 2024
Jan 16, 2024 at 6:30 PM UTC
Your design,
So divine,
Can't even imagine.
This is a fatal attraction,
And I'm under the influence,
Got my *** drive out of control.
Lust, passion, feeling infatuated,
Attentions that your body implore....
Hot, intense, feelings over-saturated,
I'm guessing you’re ready for me to explore?
Don't need a GPS,
Cause I don't mind getting lost,
Just need your voice to guide me,
How far can I go?
I know that you're not sleeping,
But I'll make you feel as if you're dreaming...
Let's create temporary forever,
Bring our bodies together,
Fall into alignment,
Don't deny it.
This is what your body desires...
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 12:20 AM UTC
With every shift through consciousness I am awaken once more.
Wave after wave it flows through all that is and all that will ever be.
When I look at you I see eternity.
With all the passing faces we've had there is no union greater.
We have always been One.
Wicked the ego to tear us apart,
Warriors of light we are.
Withstand whatever comes our way.
Wrapped in your arms.
Wishing this was true.
Waiting for time to pass so I can be with you.
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
Dust the base of my spine
In red sparks of Jasper
The cherry of a cigarette on a
Smoky quartz
Stability.
And then you progress
Caress my lower abdomen
Make me contract and shake, in infinite bliss
And lay me in a field of orange marigolds
Sensuality.
Stroke the naval centre -
My life principles of power and identity
Melted away
In the honey calcite that drips in pearls
Power.
528 Hertz, you vibrate
The frequency that renews the very
Physical matter of my vessel,
My coded waves
Love.
My throat, where you talk your wisdom
Lace my waist in agate
And your hand circles the point of serenity
Teeth in the butter soft skin
Truth.
And then you kiss me
On the forehead between the eyes
Those eyes that transform to yours,
When I open my third, and see the indigo
Insight.
Shatter, shatter the shards through the finality
The barrier of quartz and clarity
And melt into my Sahasara
And we become knowing.
One.
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
I buried a suitcase in the sand,
It's contents to remain unknown.
Although I wish to understand
These are best if left alone:
The interactions of two
Within a circle of three,
The meaning of You
Of I and of Me.
The silence that’s found
At the sun’s first breath,
A man that has drowned
Yet experienced no death.
The alignment of power
On painted lips,
The deadliest flower-
A rose with a whip.
The interstice between
Ribs and their cages,
Guardians without wings
And the gentlest rages.
Where land touches sea-
A transient mirror,
It seemed fitting for me
To bury it here.
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 4:40 PM UTC
it seems whenever i read
of these monumental
astronomical events
annular or total eclipses
planets in alignment
a radiant of meteors
as grand in magnitude
and meaning
as hyperbole will allow
that i am never able
to truly witness
or fully appreciate
the wonderment
that others have claimed
these spectacles always occur
on the other side of the planet
or at a time of day
that makes the divine insignificant
mundane and barely noticed
despite the significance
assigned in theory
this clamour for
once in a lifetime opportunities
will inevitably be missed
leaving me with
a sense of aimlessness
and distraction
until i read
that experts claim
this occurrence repeats
approximately every
ten or so years
Apr 21, 2023
Apr 21, 2023 at 6:16 PM UTC
It is undeniably human in how we constantly seek explanations for our problems
It's funny, the way we blame the alignment of the planets for our mishaps and frustrations, calling mercury into fault for our own mistakes
I have spent far too long searching for answers I will most likely never find to blame it on astrology
Your hellos have morphed into avoidance and I miss the way you once looked at me like I was a single star in the middle of a loud Los Angeles sky
I don't know exactly when you changed your mind or how and why but I do know that I haven't put the bottle back to my lips because the cool of it feels too much like yours
Early on I prepared myself for the let down but that doesn't mean I didn't taste disappointment
This could easily be an apology but I'm not sure what I have to be sorry for and the word is overused anyway
This could easily be an I am still angry but I'm really not, just aching and tired of the aftermath that follows wringing myself dry
I poured out all of my contents and you don't even have the decency to act like you could have loved me
I used to light up like an Idaho sunrise when I saw you but now when I do I have to dig laughter out of the depths of my stomach to pretend I’m okay
I am fading like the twitching light bulb in my room I am too weak to change
You made the mistake of telling a collapsing ceiling its perfection; you said there was nothing wrong with the structure
I watched you leave and then I caved in completely
Gravity had been calling to pull down for some time so I guess it makes sense that it finally did
My only regret is how quiet your smile gets when you notice me now and my inability to understand why
I don't know what I did to create the dull in your eyes or what I did to make you stop caring
I don’t know how we managed to go from pretend lovers to near strangers
I am so sorry for something I can't comprehend, for something I didn't even do, for that which I am uncertain
I am sorry that you changed and that I can't blame it on the retrograde of mercury
Los Angeles has enough stars without me,
I hope you find yours again one day.
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 4:52 PM UTC
~
Bala^ comments:
"alignment - any which way one can if possible to make
****** and *********** simultaneously happen,
without any best position plan"
~
*may all the gods bless you, Bala,
for waking me at 4:33 with this poetic induction
coaxed from my spinal fluid sanity
with perfected clarity
my own circadian rhythm masters internal,
the most reliably unreliable human container technology teachers,
semi-skilled in the entrainment arts for this impoverished body mine,
deem it appropriate that early morn messages of
propitious possibility be greeted immediately
entrapped, awaken me at four AM with great glee,
because these elusives^^ know exactly what stirs
this being's cochlear cockles into birthing a
poetic cookie ******** ***********
your message meme provoking, inducing,
be honest man - simply seducing, my within
by your teasing words from without*
"without any best position plan"
*not to confuse the mere appearance of a routine
as worthy of the entitlement of "plan,"
much as the poem's own vanity chooses it own alignment
the relationship, the relativity -
always the
flexing flummoxing freaking insatiable pleasuring
when your thrusting unplanned message
****** and bests my brain,
releasing a fully formed, instantaneous parrying poem
from an aroused, passing, unsanitized, second of sanity
for no better *** than this...
as per the unplan?
this tissued life,
this in and out
of punching and counterpunching continuous,
but rarely contiguous,
for we are never aligned for more than a moment,
the moment that almost always goes unnoticed,
for the heart's ***** tissues,
are mostly torn by how life
uses us roughly
so here is an aligned confession fecundity
this poetry gig, my salve,
to tenderize the daily redness,
the irritation residual of having no plan
however these fingerprints decided for you,
to present, upon completion,
this soft-spoken loud ***********
a peaking, not a leaking,
** ** ** - a screaming
hallelujah, i'm aligned!
the man found albeit briefly
a beat, a plan and its verbal, herbal,
best solution
may all the gods bless you, Bala,
for waking me at 4:33 with this poetic induction
coaxed from my spinal fluid sanity
with perfected clarity
the man and his plan, for a mega-second
his best,
unplanned but got and given,
in poetic planetary alignment
positioned
as are you and I -
the thousands of miles of distance tween us
as you read this
collage collapse
into a singular synapse
of ****** and ***********
hallelujah, we are aligned!
~
**disclaimer:
anything you say to me, can and will be used
for a poem**
~
5:55am
April 1, 2017
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 4:16 PM UTC
An open letter
to those poets
who align
to the center:
*When prose sits in the middle
it resembles gift-card drivel.
It cheapens your work;
your use of italics irks.*
Choose a side.
I don’t care if it’s
left or right,
Or center-right
or alt-right
(whatever that is).
The indecisive
have a lot to answer for
us being divisive.
Did that centered
poem you wrote
distract you from
casting a vote?
Stop fence-sitting
in-between
and enjoy a
splintered 2017,
from one side.
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 9:22 AM UTC