"atomically" poems
An abstract gait
Surrounded by coils of binary and luminescence.
Suave, purple suits clasping to morphed skin.
Electrical vibes, transistors atomically sized.
Brain dives, the concept of thought diluted.
She can only wish it was palpable.
In a mirror mirage,
Static fumbles,
Repos the limelight.
Cyberpunk gen, neo-noir,
A relevant memento.
Deciphering the metaphysical is
Unattainable.
***** it all,
Maneuver the landscape.
Might as well enjoy the sights
In the nick of a quivering snap.
Jan 28, 2012
Jan 28, 2012 at 6:00 PM UTC
In my room with a crack in the curtain
Hands glowing blue, I ask if you're certain
When the veins of the water enter my lungs
You leave me speechless with my neck well-hung
From the bakery, you bleed into me and
The painting on the wall of the ribs I wished to draw
Floating shamelessly by us as your *******
Become my chest cavity, obsessed pleasantly with your smell
And if today is the day you say you love me
You'll disappear into the hills forever
Your metacarpals smell of rosemary and honey
Sincerely breathed the throat until Spanish September!
Your eyes are penetrating, your torso radiating
Bed creaking and complaining by the weight of our backs
And the cracks in my voice give me no choice
But to ask you to sweat out all your noise!
Sometimes I wish you still spoke Deutsch
So we could get under the shower without getting moist
What do you think of when I swallow your thighs?
What do you see when I look into your eyes?
And if today is the day you say you love me
You'll disappear into the hills forever
Your metacarpals smell of rosemary and honey
Sincerely breathed the throat until Spanish September!
You are an unpronounceable vandalized symbol on the
Walls of the empty bathroom stall that is my bone marrow
Elements out the window to remove limitations
So the space between our lips is sub-atomically narrow.
When I wake in the morning to lavender conditioned locks
There are no movements, there are no clocks
And when I open my eyes and clear my throat twice
You roll over to soak your hands up into my sides
And if today is the day you say you love me
You'll disappear into the hills forever
Your metacarpals smell of rosemary and honey
Sincerely breathed the throat until Spanish September!
You are the destination to my mind's only track
And I'll always remember you even if you never love me back.
Oct 23, 2010
Oct 23, 2010 at 5:04 PM UTC
Does nothing matter?
Is matter nothing but dancing shattered galaxies pushing and shoving each other?
And on Earth, is it worth thinking?
That I'm just a piece of eternal dirt thinking that I'm just a piece of dirt thinking?
We're all just stars, tasting humanity for an instant.
In all its fallacies, we're systems of suns that love ****** without resistance.
With the assistance of Christian values and armed pistols.
Harmful as ignorance is blissful, we're still missing the deal.
We're still ******* away the real position to feel. We're still wishing down the same ol' wishing wells
and hoping to Christ they're real.
Worse than guns, it's the waste of freedom -- It's unequal -- to **** the hungry from a distance is still evil.
I fly atomically and everything else is informal.
What's normal? Where's God when things get so awful?
He's epidermal - like an antigermal lotion. A magic potion to nurture the thought that we're important.
We're all just stars, answering a call to be Human.
Let the cold bars that hold the others down remain open till my life is dormant.
And our heads are still cluttered and cloth covered.
Filled with an age-old confusion straight from ol' Mohammed's cupboard.
They fool us with cooked messages from book passages that preach love.
Scare us into being apparatuses of a God above.
That's why society is shattered. It's what's wrong with the world.
The perennial infancy of thought that's forced unto our boys and girls.
Such unclarity, that's baked into our childrens' recipe. It's insanity to think that we don't just turn back into energy.
I'm not religiously inspired to forgive,
nor have the insidious desire to live to inspire religious permittance.
I prefer a future purpose undiscovered.
A death dimension still covered from religions' crazy buffer.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 8:55 AM UTC
I am anatomically correct
But atomically, a mess
I am chaotic and undressed
One hundred thousand bricks
Comprised of tiny pieces all compressed
I am a prison for little hollow ghosts
That push until pulled
While I am standing here still
And they climb to the top where they come to a stop
At a grave on a cemetery hill
She fills up the air
With soft falling notes
That burst from her eyes
And dance with the ghosts by the light that once burned
To the song of the Seraphim's sigh
Bring to me a pair of aces
Smiling faces and a cup of coffee
Empty spaces and her heart
Torn from the tearing
Of teeth gnashing, eyes glaring
As I stand here still playing my part
Her music my magic
A cage for the tragic
And the life I've been too scared to start
She used to sing to the storm
With her outstretched right arm
Lines forming from rain that would spill
Yearning to feel something other than real
The night she plunged into the cemetery hill
A call to order is sounded
The drummer pounds for attention
As I'm fixed on the light on the sea
The full moon's reflection is my insurrection
When still burns the fire
In her eyes, I aspire to be
Lifted into the air, without worry or care
Take these ghosts from my bonds and set free
For the chains of despair, when I was made to wear
Sank me into the depths of the sea
But I can now take to flight
On the might of the light
She burns brightly if only for me.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
I shrink and am in quantum and want them giants stood outside to go away,the shadows that they cast blot out the sun,this day is faded gray and I wait for the moon to rise so I can bay at it.
I sit in sepia feeling like weeping at the sadness that surrounds me,thoughts of several years gone by hound me and there is no rest,
so I continue to shrink into sub where quantum then becomes the giant,the hub,the wheel on which I spin and the pin is me.
Atomically and anatomically quite comically I raise a fist at all those times that we have missed like ships that pass,escaping gas reminds me that the meter's on the starboard side,where in the past I've tried to hold things in,
now I just let it out and if farting's what this life's about then why am I still here,is it growing that I fear and If I shrink so much I disappear,where will I be?
quantum says, mechanically,
well,
****** me I never thought of that.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
***We were born to different mothers,
But still we are spiritual brothers.
And still indifferent to what bothers,
Fire of hatred either of us smothers.***
**Blood won't seperate the atoms
Of joy that flows through our veins,
Nor will it break a bond that has been
So atomically connected without chains,
Mud squishes between our toes,
My friend is climbing stairs as he goes.**
***Debunking the myth of racial differences,
Here we go holding each other's hands,
To mother earth we owe the references,
Tune we will to our lives these bands.***
**But we remain sat with our feet against the warm fire that reminds us of home,
Muddy worn out shoes that no longer fit let us know just how much we've grown,
Until the next morning when adventure is to be sought and we sit On our throne.**
Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 7:50 PM UTC
In the Monastery
Going back through the archives, back through the tunnels of time over matter and memory,
remember me?
Is time a straight line?
Is memory curved?
Are the lines that I've swerved on and under observed in the order they were or are they randomly paced in the place where the archives reside?
Who designs these banks where thoughts ride like tanks, knocking down walls where each brick that falls is another memory to contend with?
Memory and time cannot move in the same line, they distort,
I wonder if time transports memory or memory reports time and if so, to whom and to where?
Matter,
well does it?
Atomically composite
A repository to repose in
I suppose that it must, but we all turn to dust and reform and in the reform we become the new norm'
the new age from an old book on a new page.
If we have all lived before, are the memories we had then behind a secret door in the archives, locked behind secrets and eyes that don't see.
Thoughts like this bother me.
It's a good Friday and someone died for me
gave me rabbits and easter eggs,
someone,
somewhere begs for forgiveness and
it bothers me
that it might be me, somewhere
in the archives.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 7:32 AM UTC
Most of who you used to be, atomically,
is not the same as who you see, anatomically;
your atoms float off fancy free, autonomically,
and right now could be part of me, astronomically!
Or maybe a tree.
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
Atomically, I’m dropping bombs on the musical anatomy
Bohemian Rhapsody, blasting through speakers, boom went the casualties
Humans, reasons, life choices, treasons, are going up in flames, I’m the man for all the seasons
Cause I’m hotter than a summer with satan and all his demons
I’m blowing your mind like autumn in the north east region
I can turn colder than an unbeaten secretion of weakened policemen who are uneven by the corruption of a legion of plebeians.
I give cohesion and a voice for philosophical reason….
Overeatin’ … the competition, I take out their nutrition and replace it with some sort of decomposition of a squirrel with rigor mortois who had a premonition of getting hit by the car at the intersection cause he wasn’t expected by the Spanish inquisition
I’m a juxtaposition of rap and borderline contemplation of why we live in this nation of straight up fission and opposition
An omission, I love this country and all of its mathematicians and physicians who spend time building rockets and bombs and ammunition instead of helping those with ambitions to be something like a pediatrician who can then help those who have a tradition for addiction
Don’t even get me started with the politicians
Cause the suspicions have been running through my head so long they need an intermission
I need an electrician
To put back and connect the wires in my mind that have been so chewed and torn apart by the media and their contradictions
I hope the future that I’m seeing is one of fiction, and not a true definition.
Be a dreamer with defiance, have bold opposition.
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 5:43 PM UTC
I see you
when
You don't,
when you try so hard
to
see you
-through my eyes,
but you see me
when
I don't
see me
see
we
found each other,
baby
we don't
need
to be
atomically
synced
to know
that
once upon
some time ago
the Cosmos
sang our song
We
and sang it
until
we found each other
and
we'll keep
finding each other
you'll see.
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
There are cityscapes tucked into the crook of your neck
And my lips have been lost for as long as I can remember.
You told me that underneath the steel work
There are catacombs of all the people that have ever tried to love you,
But darling I am not afraid of death.
I heard a story once that the grim reaper
Was just a man who could not die
So to cope,
He shed his skin
And his flesh,
Began taking the souls of everybody else.
I found that I’m the same way;
A man who cannot be loved
So I’ve become toxic in the arms of others.
According to the mathematics
Two negatives together should bring a positive outcome,
But according to science
We can never atomically touch.
According to faith
I am still a believer.
According to my heart
It’s such a shame because
I never wanted to be a traveler
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 11:41 PM UTC
Nothing has possibilities
Where did you think
Such impossibilities
Come from?
While
Light and sound
Are measurably
Atomically associated
Possibilities are merely
The potential of dark matter
The matter of nothing
Impossibility
Don’t exist!
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 7:03 AM UTC
"watch your ego"
so I looked further within
only to find what everything has ever been
(sub atomically)
reading a screen to avoid a scene in this reality I don't want to see
when I question myself I think of my hand digging down my throat until I feel my spleen
(wicked me)
but should I not voice internal imagery?
time is eroding my current self
(melting face)
laces I cannot lace
the shoe doesn't fit so this experience I can't embrace
accepting universal truths I can't even begin to trace in space
(out of here)
I miss you my dear
drunk and high so drag me by the ear... until it rips from my head so I know you didn't let go
(please don't let me go)
even if my body is cut in pieces
keep me in a box
(but I wasn't drunk and high)
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 7:34 AM UTC
Here in the absolute,
I stand at, shoot at
wagon wheels on wagon trains that roll
across the open plains.
I am the Monarch,a butterfly who
watches as the time and
world go by.
In the absolute
it's not who or what you are or
where you've been,what you've seen,
some liken it unto a dream.
Not so.
I have roved around infinity
met myself and talked,,together
we have orbited the brightest star.
In the maximum the absolute
is where I rest my lazy eye,
watching with the good one as the
passing on goes by.
I am the tree,
the certainty of nature
running free,
even with a lazy eye,
can I not see the structure of me,
of I,
Atomically speaking,like the clock.
I am the minute after
the aftershock
the boom that you hear,
here in the
absolute.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
I heard that love would be a kind of a date,
a chemical one,
between me and you.
I heard that love would be a kind of an explosion,
an atomically one,
in which our elements,
are intertwining,
are changing everything,
deep,
are destroying the cages and the chains
of our minds,
are creating joy,
are provoking re-freshness
and are giving hope.
If from this amalgamation
of heterogeneous elements
results... life,
then,
only then,
our hearts start to beat at the same pace.
What did you hear about love?
Oct 4, 2019
Oct 4, 2019 at 1:48 PM UTC
If within the limitation of parentheses
(Throw away information goes here)
Holds the reflection in a greater sphere
I hold in my heart (Mostly in my art)
The thought of you my dear
Your heart should be aware
(Written in the stars
In our private holy hemisphere)
We have always
To each other been near
Sub-atomically we arrived (In ethereal beauty)
Aesthetic attractions draws us
Again we manifest (Another mess)
Until we learn the laws (Of eternal rest)
Then shall we begin again (In thee end)
Oct 30, 2019
Oct 30, 2019 at 11:57 AM UTC
It is ****** like the hot breath of a dangerous man, he knows you and wants to do you harm. His sunglasses betray a bravado, but the smell of a last-minute cigarette lingers in your nostrils and you realize like the gazelle just as the lioness pounces. You make a choice to move and you turn to kick him in his soft stomach to propel you forward through the wall and the next room, stunned faces gawking a your newfound god powers. You meld through the cinderblock and reinforced concrete like hot caramel easing itself with absolute purpose into the crooks and nannies to settle and harden. Hot pulses through your veins and breaks you down, disintegrating and de-construct you in an unavoidable all consuming pain as you fall through the layers of metal and concrete, atomically and fully indistinguishable from molecule to molecule before again that violent re-structuring, and again and again until you reach me as I reach you in the very same way. We collide with such violence, the pieces of us fly off in molten hot chunks that destroy everything around us as our molecules and atoms again arrange together until we are finally indistinguishable.
Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 4:59 AM UTC