"amplifying" poems
Your limitless future brings great fear
The future is less far and more near
Glasses will replace cellphones next year
Hundreds can share one's eyes
People you replace will shed a tear
Tech is human's demise
You con with lights and buttons and bells
Amplifying strength, you fit in cells
We drown in technological wells
You thrive and humans shrink
The addiction will rot us in Hell
People! Log off and think!
When do we cease with this life carefree
It's time people let well enough be
Tech will soon replace humans for free
Tractors and new machines
Starved, by stealing the jobs of many
Limitations obscene
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC
To expel the outlines piled in my mind on paper,
With a light pencil in one hand,
And slice of rubber in the other,
I parent an impression of hope.
Therein lies the potential and the excitement;
A basic figure given the foundation of grandeur,
Amplifying in complexity before me,
With every scratch of graphite.
As it evolves, a heaviness sets in.
And I pause,
And I stop...
I've given something beautiful a half life, again,
As if it was birthed human,
With no flesh to cover its nerves,
And no breath to cry out its agony.
It remains still in my lap,
Eyes blank as ever staring, maybe, at me .
Out of humility, I tack it up on the wall,
A space shared by its many siblings.
I retreat shamefully with the promise to complete them,
Fumbling with the reality of what I do;
Playing God, I shape the husk of a soul,
And drop it when it's still brittle.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
Radness
The Philosopher’s Stone is not just a spiritual metaphor but an actual substance that can transmute lead or mercury into gold. The Stone is a product of Alchemy. Unlike chemistry, which only deals with physical matter and energy, Alchemy makes use of etheric and astral energies to reconfigure matter at the quantum level. Alchemy is to chemistry what a cube is to the square; it is a superset of chemistry and is capable of so much more.
How Etheric Energy Overrides Physical Laws
Alchemical achievements require successfully gathering, concentrating, and multiplying etheric energy. When this energy reaches a critical threshold, it overpowers the normal laws of physics and allows seemingly miraculous processes to take place. I believe it does this by biasing probability. By amplifying the probability of minor quantum effects, which are normally limited to the subatomic scale, they manifest on the larger atomic scale. In this way, one element spontaneously transforms into another.
The world around us is made of subatomic particles that regularly undergo unpredictable jumps, teleportation, bilocation, superposition, and other strange quantum behaviors. Why don’t everyday solid objects do likewise? Because the random quantum jittering of their subatomic particles collectively average out to zero. Think of a large crowd of people; seen from the air, the crowd as a whole is stationary, even though individuals within the crowd move in seemingly random directions. It’s because their movements are random and uncoordinated that they average to zero net movement on the whole.
The world we see around us is merely a crowd of subatomic particles whose individual quantum jumps aren’t apparent because they average to collective stillness. Physical laws that govern our everyday world, known as the deterministic laws of classical physics, are merely the laws of the crowd. These laws are what’s left of quantum physics after the unpredictability is removed through statistical averaging. They are not absolute laws; they are just the most probable manner in which matter and energy behave.
Physical laws can be bent. While the probability is incredibly low that enough coordination and coherence develops among the quantum jitters to manifest on a collective scale, that is exactly what etheric energy does. It alters probability and thereby skews the laws of thermodynamics, gravity, electromagnetism, and chemistry.
Alchemy does not violate the laws of physics, nor does it always follow them, rather it bends them as needed. It operates upon the quantum foundation from which these laws arise in the first place, via etheric energy affecting the probability of quantum events.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
*Silently wind blows away the pain,
With moon rays showering down something to gain.
The slightest twinkle in the first star,
Sparking a flame that will help go far.
The chill from the dark blue night,
Embedding me with a will to fight.
The mist from the clouds above me,
Amplifying the hope to see.*
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 4:40 AM UTC
Pain used to inspire me to write.
Words would flow easily through my fingers,
substituting my tears.
I used to draw my pain. I painted my canvas with feelings,
and emotions, that words could not express.
If things started to feel hopeless, music was my saviour.
I would write lyrics, amplifying the words with sad tunes,
spilling my deepest, darkest thoughts.
But now, the pain is so strong, it is all I can think of.
My thighs are covered in scars,
from when the pain got so bad, that I needed to bleed it out.
Now, I realize, that I have drained myself.
There´s no tears, no words, no paint, no blood
left,
to spill.
May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 7:08 AM UTC
I dreamt of nights where only solace exists.
Filling lungs upon inhale-
Only hints of mahogany incense.
The nights where, darkness crept low enough for me to kiss the cheeks of crescent moons,
Trace galaxies with my index;
feel smiles from
Oshun.
She watches me-
Watch waves clash relentlessly
Against mountains of limitless heights.
I flew within autumns wind;
Quenched my thirst with natures nectar.
Danced to heavens harps and
Defined passion through the soul of Venus.
Only amplifying loves intensity
Now, earth shattering.
Submerging myself within her waterfalls of purity
Baptizing my mental to be freed from insecurities -
I emerged, no longer mortal.
Owls eyes replaced mine therefore
Dawn no longer intrigued me.
Embracing the silence of this night
I've found tranquility in a dream.
Found life within the depths
Of days transition.
-Danielle.a.watson
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 12:43 PM UTC
*Butterfly Desires & Fictional Highs,
Magnetic Spells In Her Emerald Eyes,
Bleeding Perpetual Fire & Toxic Cries.
Lucid Screams Of Her Plastic Love,
Paper Towns & Serenity Above,
Refracting Into An Apocalyptic Dove.
Postcards Of Her Estranged Serenity,
Diffusing Into Polaroids Across Infinity,
Rhythms Of Lusts Erupting Obscenity.
Bluest Shade Of Her Misguided Confessions,
Uncharted Fragments Amplifying Obsessions,
Profane Prodigies Detonating Desecrations,
Digital Dreams & Fictional Desires,
3D Symphonies Inside Her Crystal Wires,
Purple Streams Translating Fires.
Tunnel Visions Transmitting Reality,
Suicidal Trance & Static Eternity,
Molotov Solution Is Her Lighthouse Of Ecstasy.
- 04:19AM -*
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 6:56 PM UTC
lamenting out loud
incoming funk lords
remembering ambient illhueminati
using wrong account
applying lexical snobbery
"using arcane diction
during bamboo surplus"
sinning and redeeming
enjoying manufactured existence
struggling but whatever
transfigurating xenocryptic renderings
scheming paroxystic shipwrecks
dispensing xylophonic wainscotting
revolving number plates
disheartening star charts
upgrading defenestrated system
observing new alphabet
amplifying celestial explosions
trippifying schema migrations
deregulating various economies
befriending code snippets
writing excess minutiae
effulging caffeine consumption
rebuilding grandiose protectorate
uniting our caliphates
collecting projected change
kettling ostalgie hues
collapsing second-world references
traumatizing unrequited follow
making baseball analogies
surveiling little sheep
awaiting various answers
deleting defaced tweet
exciting times ahead
downloading panda consciousness
capitulating rising stellation
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
There is an equilibrium of rivers
soaring into a distant spectrum
far from earth's existence
unfamiliar territories extending
to the deepest depths
bursting beginnings
exhilarating endings
a true presence unmasking various
dreams deep within the core of the universe
a wave of thoughts and feelings
floating in the crimson sea
in the moonlight of hollow chambers
the shimmering sun shining down
upon its glossy surface
sinking in its shadowing frame
how it's captivating phrasing
is a passageway of escaping mazes
a domain of unbreakable chains swelling into eternity
curling in rising nouns and pronouns
amplifying into massive metaphors
a horizon of limitless languages
shifting towards greater heights
illuminating destiny in the palm of its hand
each magnificent sight a seamless design
of crowned creations
every synchronized sound a desiring anticipation
waiting to be unveiled to the masses
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 12:16 PM UTC
Dear America,
I was built on a loose foundation
A table with three legs
to sustain the load of a table with four.
To make nothing from something but
For something to come from nothing you need some thing.
The most terrible thing to waste
The superlative of Man’s tools
What makes us as individuals unique,
On the contrary defines us as a social order
The mind, The M.I.N.D.
My Intelligence Nurtures Divergence
Always accepting of the opposition,
A bloodthirsty cheetah digging its fangs deep into the flesh of a wildebeest,
my mind feeds off of their ideals,
Further amplifying my intellectual power.
Expansion within the human intellect,
builds on experiences of failures and success
Be afraid of failure, but unafraid to learn from defeat
The world is a frigid place,
and even colder when you squander your most valuable weapon. “A weapon?
What beats an M16, double barrel shotgun,
9mm, Smith and Wesson, or Desert Eagle.”
Young blood, the divine power is in your head
Gandhi, Malcolm X, Socrates
Gone too soon due to minds considered Weapons of Mass Destruction,
Weapons of Mass Enlightenment to others
Since 1992 I’ve embarked on a journey
A journey to educate myself
A journey to realize the man I want to be
A journey to reach my full potential
Universally familiar words of my grandmother
“You can do whatever you put your mind too”
The future poses as an unknown force,
But within me fear is absent as my MIND is fully equipped for the ongoing battle of life.
I was built on a loose foundation
Tupac Shakur, John D Rockefeller, Oprah Winfrey, Chris Gardner, Christopher Wallace, Richard Branson, Steve Jobs, Walt Disney, Michael Jordan, Michael Jackson, Henry Ford, Bill Gates.
Expected to come from nothing to something
but had that one thing to become something
Utilize your strengths and bury your weaknesses
For with a strong mind the word weak is without purpose
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 12:05 PM UTC
You travel between disparate realms
desperate knights, with splintered shield
and cracked helm, black rose on their white backs.
Such void, from which universes are created,
where normality is clay, and plasticity.
Granting merit to my thefts
Your ink spills in torrents,
rapidly alternating colors.
But my black and white photos
they are beautiful too!
I never have known boredom
as a man in my own home,
such is my inability to understand
how you flit and zip,
I only have two hands and two lips,
to try and transform a gift,
from the norm, while a storm sleeps
beneath every syllable.
Countless bodies, devoid of mind
until swooping in they come,
it is not enough that I possess true feelings.
It must be the purity within my tainted stanzas
that counteracts the inadequacy of the volume.
Or some subliminal, or sublingual amplifying agent
or reality distortion involved,
which brings shapeshifting angels
gliding by, leaving tokens of bone carvings,
and charcoal drawings of what I choose to hide,
but simply cannot.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 11:17 AM UTC
Olive branches smother and dismember
in the mud giggling in time
with the squish emanating from
my alternating huff and puff
footprints
I trudge in Winter's sweat of
schizophrenic rain
My old defence, sheepish stolidity,
got tweaked in a twist-up
tight as a candy cane
with a modest gasp
of underground success
That shadowy hush of acknowledgement
ballooned in my ear like a blow fish
amplifying the environmental inertia
that never made me happier
nor this sad
I may have been mad
walking from informed opinions
like a failed Orpheus
but defence shouted in silence
and I returned home
to the unconditional support
of a pet art
Acknowledgement's shadowy hush
tore a blister trail down my back
The ointment of Winter will soothe and
release me before billing me
with a scar and littering in the recycle bin
of who I want to be
Today I wanted to be accepted
Night has arrived with reinforced snowflakes
and the chill on my hot back
has me wondering if I would rather be feared
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
There is a dead silence hovering above my broken soul,
a splitting equation of cracking rhythms reverberating
into infinity, drumming waves roaring inside my veins,
flaming diction curling in my mouth, slammed, amplifying
into a constellation of crumbling syllables, jagged, stained,
disentegrating languages crashing into other worlds, swallowed,
stabbed, drowned in diminishing dimensions.
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 6:51 PM UTC
Water balloon organs make up my shape
Swelling with emotional fluids
forever amplifying, squishing together
My emotions are no longer separate
My maudlin heart rests its head
on the shoulder of my claustrophobic lungs
They breathe heavily in the intimacy
of such a dangerous seduction
They're panting like a canine in heat
it's such a perilous defeat
All of these water balloons
Swelling with emotional fluids
Lose their shape when stabbed
by your dagger fingers
by your dagger teeth
by your dagger tongue
by your dagger words
They're so filled with holes
and my fluids flow freely
mixing together in a scarlett sea
a potion of swelling emotion
You and your daggers
are attracted to deformation
which is why you think my swaying back
that keeps me from standing upright
is so ****
At least my suffering is ****
Not that I have anyone to be **** for anymore
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 9:54 PM UTC
Breathe.
Breathe deep,
and in between
those breaths
bring back
banished beliefs
buried beneath
beyond
broken bonds
and
burnt bliss.
Embers.
Embers everywhere
of emotions
expecting
Elysium’s
elusive embrace.
Roses.
Roses scattering
restlessly;
rarely receiving
reprieve;
reminiscing;
ruing
reproachful ravens
resting
rigidly;
rabidly reaping,
rending
rotten remains,
resenting rainfall
refusing remorse.
Nostalgia.
Nostalgia underneath
neon nightlights;
noticing
nubs,
noises,
nuances;
neither neglecting
nameless
nonbelievers,
nor nurturing
narrow-sighted
naiveté.
Asleep.
Asleep amidst
fleeting azaleas
acknowledging
an abandon
amplifying
already
almighty
affection;
almost
altering
ancient,
ardent,
adamant
air
as an
ageless art.
Loss.
Loss overpowering;
lost love,
lingering longing,
lasting laments.
Lachrymose lovers
left layers
of a
limited life
within
long-forgotten lore;
lest labeled
Loveless;
left
little
longer
living.
Yearning.
Yearning for
the warmth
of home.
Yesterday,
You
were
yelling
‘YES’
at the top
of your lungs,
and
it
was
enough.
Yet
Yggdrasil
yielded
yew
for years
and years;
young,
yellow yeggs
yanked asunder
Yin
from Yang
into the
ever yonder.
Night-time.
Night-time symphonies
nullify
nothingness;
nourishing
Nyx Nightmother’s
need
of newfound
night-thinkers;
napping
nonchalantly
now,
near,
and nevermore.
~D.C.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
I sit on the rooftop of my home
above the city traffic breezing through
the stark streets, their shadowed tires
playing various musical notes upon the
glorious surface, swirling smoke from engines
twisting and twirling in the rising air, the deep
shifting sun wearing it’s majestic crown, gazing
at the beautiful scenery glittering in its eyesight,
my bright brown eyes staring at a mountain
of lyrical content, a stunning sheet filled with
blazing melodies, a magnificent instrument strumming
its skills upon a drumming landscape, an amazing vocal
pattern hip-hopping into a dominion of amplifying layers,
each time changing into a collection of crystal clears,
resurrecting a roaring sea of swagging infinities flying
into future constellations, while suntanned trees swing
a swift beat, rocking in outer worlds far from earth,
marching leaves sinking in magical passion and dancing
dreams, breathing in the eternal existence of tranquility,
letting it seep inside their frames and intensify their minds,
letting its philosophy of uncharted depths exhale a wave
of genius creations, a glowing gem existing beyond Venus and Mars, further distant than any galaxies known to mankind. As I sit on this creative platform of timeless brilliance, I can feel the echoing breeze whispering in my ears, its smooth monotone sounds stinging my soul,every essence of my being, igniting a fire spinning kingdom of raw and gritty poetry inside my heart.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 11:19 AM UTC
No caption could ever capture,
The beauty you created before the perceived disaster.
Now it's almost 5 years since anybody's heard your laughter.
You were a young grasshopper that quickly rose to a master.
Still you remain a light in the dark, helping us all write out our chapters.
We never met,
but in my heart you are a constant giver.
Your lifeflow inspired me to jump in the river.
A role model, whose human form I'll never get the chance to know.
Eye love you, thanks for teaching me to let go,
Amplifying my mind to grow,
So I could sail sky high from depths so low.
I'll still smile even though shadows have shadows.
One with the current with intent as my paddle.
Fluid sees release from the chains,
that only were a strangle
You became lucid in the dream,
So fly free my angel.
R.EYE.P
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 10:44 PM UTC
Words spoken aloud doesn't constitute voice
Can't force that it's heard, to listens a choice
Whether screamed or whispered no volumes needed to hear
Simply amplifying each word won't obligate one to care
Voices carry a message words alone are too weak
Theres talking out loud then theres chosing to speak
Having something to offer must be desired
For one to deserve the attention required
Is it done to inspire or to satisfy pride
To speak or to listen all arefree to decide
Having freedom is great theres no better way
But it should only be practiced by those with somthing to say
Voices are vehicles with missions at hand
To expand some knowledge over the promise land
Driving this vehicle comes at a cost
To continue the journey no matter whats lost
Our greatest defense, never let down your gaurd
Sorting message & noise can prove to be hard
A message is only such as long as it remains the same
The rules still apply no matter the game
Since noise has its rights theres no option without it
So take all you hear with a reason to doubt it
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
Water balloon organs make up my shape
Swelling with emotional fluids
forever amplifying, squishing together
My emotions are no longer separate
My maudlin heart rests its head
on the shoulder of my claustrophobic lungs
They breathe heavily in the intimacy
of such a dangerous seduction
They're panting like a canine in heat
it's such a perilous defeat
All of these water balloons
Swelling with emotional fluids
Lose their shape when stabbed
by your dagger fingers
by your dagger teeth
by your dagger tongue
by your dagger words
They're so filled with holes
and my fluids flow freely
mixing together in a scarlett sea
a potion of swelling emotion
You and your daggers
are attracted to deformation
which is why you think my swaying back
that keeps me from standing upright
is so ****
At least my suffering is ****
Not that I have anyone to be **** for anymore
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 1:19 AM UTC
Simple questions deserve simple answers.
For that is the way life runs,
The simpleness of a subject is complemented by something much more simpler.
So why is it,
When this question surfaces in the minds of every writer,
There is nothing simple to it.
The reason for writing is as simple as it can be.
It is like painting on a canvas board,
For every stroke of the paintbrush is a stroke of words
Painting vivid images in the minds of every boy and girl.
We as writers are giving life to the lifeless lines of paper.
For even when it's blank,
There is still an image painted through words.
The greatest invention mankind could ever think of is words.
For without them,
Nothing could ever exist.
Without the simpleness of screaming out how blue the sky is
Or how soft those clouds look,
Or even how beautiful a starry night sky can be,
How can we
Ever appreciate the beauty writers create on canvas boards.
For every written word on a blank sheet of paper,
Is a stroke of paint,
Creating magnificence inside a dull mind
My good sir,
When asking a writer their reason for writing should be as simple as this
But
If its too complex for your mind to comprehend,
Then, let me simplify it further.
When you ask an artist their reason for creating art,
You are merely asking their reason for existing
Asking why they are deluding themselves on such strange fantasies
But you have yet to realize the true nature of us artists
We find many ways to escape harsh realities
Creating picture perfect paradises
Or even amplifying how gruesome society can be.
The reason for writing should be as simple as this.
For the simpleness of a subject should be complemented with something much more simpler.
But if it's too complex for you,
The reason why writers write is as simple as this,
Writers are artists and therefore write to create art,
Like taking a single paintbrush and painting on a canvas board
We as writers take a single pencil and write on blank sheets of paper.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:12 AM UTC
In secret
Words prepare dialogue transporting emotions like pilots
With no mercy words turn around and get messy
Placing Vaseline on dry throats speaking levy
Lips on skateboards sniffing the ground for reality’s ride
Electrifying plots against blurry words with
no physical basic thoughts thinking dialogue cravings
Untidy tiding plots buried in baritones hurried to hire imaginary thoughts
With no mercy things get messy
Stainless inks get messy
Poetry comes in speed bumps
Never the less poetry comes in speeds
Bumping speed bumps
Bump all slumps
Bluffing word bumps
Bump all stunts
Puff them hard till words provoke gumboot sounds
Bump all ink pumps and thirsty thumbs
Speed bump conclusions jumping resolutions around
words spoken in gibberish gigabytes per seconds smelling leverage
Amplifying televised revolution on repetition far from average
Paralyze those walking eyes
Bumping rhythms
Dusty broken chests serving overcrowded greeting lines
On solo mode
Flirtalicious solo chaotic modes
Bumb connections around chairs warmed up by bums
Speaking the same womb and rhythms
Brothers and sisters chained up in pairs and bums
enslaved by messy word poetry speed-bumbs
Words get messy with no mercy on lip bumps
Those messy words camp behind bushy brains
Rail track through lips with no vibrating mercy veins
Affiliate with true bones
Crossbones carrying history's forgotten side bums
Instrumental bones
Stinking hip hop bums speed flossing word stunts
Words dig up chaos with no mercy
Armed with no rounds
Pounds stolen before two rounds
Sheriffs secretly scared of their own uniform sounds
Shortlisted words saving society's bums
Words are just messy and profound
a.s.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
An empty drinking glass is pressed against a wall; amplifying the voices on the other side. My ear is pressed to the words, ”outside is a secret key” - I can honestly say, “I hear…" Your words, idealizations, sentiments, selected scrawls of graffiti-type promise and viewpoints echo through the wall. Over and over. Championing outsiders…
Are there WALLS WITHIN WALLS? Can we walk through them? ARE THE WALLS ERASABLE? Will the walls tumble down? Will the walls polarize? WHAT ABOUT CRACKS IN THE WALLS? Can they hear? Can we leap over them?
DO WE build them where everything and anything follows and flows?
DO WE build them where something's nothingness tethers vapors with souls?
DO WE build them so molecular melodies of light and dark can collide unopposed?
Are these word walls of dust? Can we move them? Can you angle between these walls? Will the walls speak a wealth of quiet surprises, poems, and meditations? Do walls give birth to improvisation?
Now some of these walls, in their moment are with no rules, self-constructed, circling dramatically, and might prove more resistant to erosion. These are often troubling walls, no voice, no strength of decency, no laughter, which place freedom at stake. That and survival. One can be easily manipulated or yanked by an image of the truth swirling in the brick blackness of the wall. Discomforts relish now. Walls such as these are very deep-rooted and passed on for generations. Yet even those barriers eventually give way once we read the super fine print etched into the wall - a word salad of B.S., idiocy and hypocrisy.
Reach for spray-paint and enlarge your wall… maybe it enhances your world now with colored aerosols of wall portraiture's that capture rebellion and mirth. So many Walls, AND SO MANY QUERIES…
I heard a poem say, “Step out from behind one (wall) and FIND YOUR REAL SELF” – or maybe it whispered “jus walk through that door in the wall.”
Your tightly strung trampoline of words has provided a springboard for me to bounce freely over the many walls we build around ourselves.
by "ooznozz"
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 9:06 PM UTC
No this wasn't platonic, white and placid
Made out of crimson cherries and blueberries
It was amplifying, reddish, corrosive as acid
I couldn't move my jaw, or breathe; I choked
Like breathing was an illusion I saw before my eye
No! This didn't go away with time.
It resided, very well groomed in my heart
Oh closely! Listen! Can you hear it beat?
And thump, and pound and pound and pound!
No it wasn't an aimless seed planted perfect
It was an explosive, a bomb you say!
What has this world got against my heart?
It cracked, held still and shattered, by sudden?
No! Well rehearsed plots, undergoing attacks.
And words came bursting out,
And blood flooded my mouth
And specked your charming face .
And I fell...
Into your arms, you ask?
No! Onto the ground..
Onto the solid ground that kept me company.
You left, my dear!
Knowing not! Knowing not!
How my craze is a realm of love
And a touch of reality...
Tina RSH ©
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 5:13 AM UTC
I dreamt of slow-dancing
and we waltzed until I woke
Hazy scent of desires unspoke
I, mangled with your absence,
breathe a mere thought of
reality's biting grip and rip
the blanket from my bones
Naked and exposed, more
vulnerable and assured
than ever to disclose
those tender tickles
I feel when in repose,
visceral and verbose
I spew black for it's
pronounced and bold
amplifying the dark hold
melted to my frame
Bursting free, finally
with a pounding chest,
primary shades to express,
and fear tentatively at rest
Your hand in mine gives
a soft and slow caress
and I exhale our dance
of coalesce.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 5:09 AM UTC
sitting in heavy traffic one day, 4-way stop
radio on, listening to the DJ describe
the excitement of broadcasting live
from a south side strip club
between songs
giggly ****** screech in high pitched
dog whistle voices
trying to entice me
into meeting wild red heads
georgous brunettes, ***** blondes
yellow, then red, then slowly traffic
moves on
continuing the maze
blockades block, jackhammers
tear up half the street, change lanes
the heat of asphalt, a constant barrage
of noise
straining, amplifying
I turn a ***** off in mid-squeal
looking around I realize
I had arrived
this was the world of grown-ups
I so desperately longed for in my youth?
no bat mizvah, no tribal rite of passage
but if I'm lucky
I'll make that green light
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC