"arguable" poems
You made me
And that idea baffles me all the time
Because you didn't make me at all.
Well it's arguable that your absence made some of me
But there's millions of people who aren't in my life too.
Has my absence made some of you?
The first time I was with you,
Half of me was swimming to my moms egg,
When we were together for the second time
I noticed I had built you up
I only knew the biology of our connection
It made me realize how disconnected we were.
We weren't that tall and still aren't.
Without you I am nothing
But without you I've been many things.
I'll meet you again sometime.
There's still time to grow.
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 2:07 AM UTC
Humanity is at the ****** of connection
Connection is plastered to our bones
It’s on our wrists dinging reminding us to take our steps that will apparently make us one with nature, it’s latched to our arms so while we are so spent attaching ourselves to nature that we don’t have to attach our phones to our hands, it’s our sun rise, it’s our evening prayer, heck it’s the only thing reminding us to wake up in the morning and connect with these people that we can only reach through these dull technological connections. Facebook says we’re here to help you connect! The Bible app dings remindign you, “keep in check!” You’re surrounded by connection, it immerses you and embraces you with its WiFi streamed arms and blue tinted light
But shouldn’t you be embracing the connection? Shouldn’t you be the one to swallow connection? Shouldn’t you be the one to amplify connection?
Humanity is at the ****** of connection but we are disconnected.. Shouldn’t the rate of depression fall not rise with every purchase of an iPhone. We are disconnected
From ourselves from nature from the spiritual realm and from each other because we connect our souls to these arguable objects of connection. Seems like we need an intervention from connection. Shouldn’t connection flow within our bones and not simply be plastered to it? Connection is around us, but we’re not making the connection
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 9:26 PM UTC
Paper. Pen.
Let's write out our feelings.
"I'm having a rough time."
Cell phone
Online recipes.
I should cook that soon.
Hotel websites.
Free breakfast? Eh I'm vegan now so just fruit.
Swimming pool? I'm sure it'll be busy
Fitness center. Leo wants to run in the morning.
Booked. Could be a good night.
Paper. Pen.
Right. Writing.
"I can tell journaling is helpful
because I'm resistant to doing it."
Text messages.
Leo thinks they were too mean to me.
I think I deserve it.
I love you.
Paper. Pen.
Hm. I should write some poetry.
Photos.
Wow look at how my face has changed, let's make a collage.
Oo what else.
Body pictures.
Pre-surgery picture.
Damm I've really sculpted up.
Reconsiders feeling gross physically.
Arguable.
Paper. Pen.
How easy it is to ignore you.
How easy it is to ignore myself
And not listen to my feelings.
May 4, 2019
May 4, 2019 at 10:58 PM UTC
Let's look at religion
A barley arguable opinion
An iffy position to hold on a poorly written legend
Playing pretend, a doctrine based in fiction
It's a belief
It can be helpful with grief
It can offer something resembling relief
But there's no being above or beneath
It's only a story
Meant for guiding, not setting morality
A children's book with adult vocabulary
Not to be taken seriously once you've learn about the tooth fairy
This is ridiculous
This fictitious alpha and omega business
An impossible for anyone to follow syllabus
Why haven't we moved on from the preposterous?
If it helps...fine
Use it, let it consume all YOUR time
I'm tired of having to remind YOUR kind
That's YOUR truth, NOT mine
©2023
Dec 29, 2023
Dec 29, 2023 at 3:43 PM UTC
Catching semiotic holdings from a cow-licked brain ****
Matching periodic scoldings, from a plough of picked-plain art
Filled prescription left for digestive tracts dissolution
Milled conscription cleft as congestive cracks merge in illusion
Temporal reconstruction, as the Adderall seeps into place
Federal distribution, as the admiral heaps the case
Welled as the spineless listen to a cautionary thought
Held as a timeless vision of a stationary plot
Pillbox running on fumes, causing fresh hysteria to solidify
Paradox coming, dawn looms, pausing thresh, staging an area to demystify
Later, new levy forbids pawing fear, spoken rotten, a deloused baiting sound
Cater to heavy lids, drawing near the cotton housed waiting ground
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
some last night clutched the sorry sorely sack of clean rigid muscles
that tomorrow contemplates in wearing under ***** flaccid skin
that everybody wears more commonly on the brushing wane
of their frailing dying bodies that they wear on the short
folds of hours that everyday wears between sleeping
and starting cupping sunlight's wriggling adept
worm that in the corpse of night in through
its sallow ginger skin the hard creeping
the cool creeping; the slender cylinder
of its fornicating colors slips right
through it the basic plain extra
ordinarily placid death of
of strong brutish approp
riate night, "i wonder
why the wind with
legs as hard as
silk opens
never
right at
the seam
it's got at the
back of its small
its tiny, its fast white
hair lip, but who would
care how ugly its face got
because the way its hands got
all sharp and soft on my meandyou
" that's probably like how it was the
window's summer's open closing falling
clots of creamless clouds that nuzzled under
heaven onto armor, spears, and lovely amber
sunsets all over the back of my car when you
candy(like the lithe arguable sugar men did with
ruby apples and made them even sweeter with the
hot supple red shells they rubbed all over the pert negligee
of autumn's hard little luscious)ied the nape of my neck with
the lunging elegance of your saintly slightly painted painting my
nape lips those rushing throngs of sturdy cords that made me. Barely
Apr 25, 2011
Apr 25, 2011 at 12:34 AM UTC
A fact is a non-arguable statement,
But a statement is defined fact,
Through observations and experimentation.
Today a fact was patented,
By the college of my love for you,
The fact is; You are beautiful, that is it.
Jan 16, 2025
Jan 16, 2025 at 9:55 PM UTC
It's about the journey
Not the destination
We have heard the quote before
But how
Realization
Peace
Smile
Forgive yourself
Every moment is new
So take it
Create it
Choose
Whether time moves
Or stands still
Arguable
Make it amazing because
Either way
It will never come again
❤
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
without asking for tangible receipts
but to pollinate greensward vis a vis
as pay forward recompense
many good samaritan instances
came my way of late, yet
hive heal stymied, how
unexpected gratuitous deeds didst whet,
a voluntary yen of mine
to pay back or forward
countless instances
to balance out scale reciprocation
doth weigh within mine conscious
and/or subconscious
giving back status unmet,
thus...this ambling, bumbling, fumbling,
et cetera sensate **** Sapien able Juan
Tim steady state Cane, tis ready and set
analogous to the tricks Seine (seen)
by a rheas ease pond dint
surveyed monkey smart pet
whom calculated thine net
total asper positive fortunate events this chap
and or loved ones within mine family met
since years gone by to the present moment let
me experience minimal anxiety
finds euphoric sensation within me (as if jet
ting into stratosphere,
and a counter force get
tin overpowering akin
to a creditable conscientious debt
begging to be honored as a non boastful bet
among the better angels of thyself
whom regulate acceptable, affordable, airing...
agreeable, amenable, un arguable heartfelt
good fella expressing deserved certifiable
bona fied ardent
action demonstrating appreciation
for innumerable, humbling deeds
done divinely deposing
dada's depredatory, depredation, depression
sans crucial life line feeds,
as genuine deep seated acknowledgement
as proof emotional, financial,
and spiritual bountiful personal necessity
receiving such psychic receipts heeds!
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
An enchanting shadow
Or an arguable truth?
Your apparent presence-
In reality it haunts;
Faded, appearing,
Like a glitch in transmission
Something warm or cold;
Who are you, really?
Why am I on hold?
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 9:42 PM UTC
Trains and their journies
Come in all shapes
And indeed
All sizes,
Mine was six feet
And three inches
Long and maybe
Wider than should,
It ran at various
Speeds and with
All sorts of success
And indeed of failure,
I guess a few first class
Carriages and a load of thirds,
With a well crammed
Car of baggage,
Arguable the quality
And standard of the journey too
Yet never mind it's aims,
That departing platform one?
That service once
Was James
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 5:12 PM UTC