"cathexis" poems - Hello Poetry

Her presence is superfluous and your demeanor is vindictive, and you can’t hold her close enough to pass the hours with any more trivialities. Your allusions to Eos mean nothing to her comfortably deaf ears. Her smile drips with poisonous innocence and she’s reaching for you, and oh no, you’re doubled over again, and she’s rubbing your back, and you’re clutching at your insides and you just want to hurl them at the wall and redefine expressionism. Transgressions displayed in a mason jar atop the fireplace mantel, like the ashes of some dead relative who stopped mattering when the estate paid out and your dad blew it all at the casino again. With a knock and a bump, the skeletons come tumbling out of your closet; their bones crumble into dust on your carpet. You've lost track of how often this happens but you think the carpet looks better grey anyway, and she’s still looking up at you. Those eyes so much like a child, riddled with naivety and wonderment, like you’re the perfect picture of Eden. It’s 5am and you can’t see the room through the smoke, and she can’t hear the cries for help over her utopian illusion of This Is All We Need. You were never one for cathexis and you hope she can’t see the blood on the walls, or the blood(lust) on your hands. She has the uncanny ability to not know, despite your nuances. She’ll never read into your mind the way she reads the words you carve into the trees and the sand and the snow. Every articulation of Truth is just refracted through her pretty little head and sent spinning into the abyss. The sun is rising and you wish she’d leave, but your shift in weight and your sideways glance is subjective to her and she promises to stay. So instead you make bets with yourself over whether your body falling from a 30 story building, or the rising sun, will reach the horizon line first.

0

Nov 27, 2013

Nov 27, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC

katryna

Racing the Sun -- and Her

Her presence is superfluous and your demeanor is vindictive, and you can’t hold her close enough to pass the hours with any more trivialities. Your allusions to Eos mean nothing to her comfortably deaf ears. Her smile drips with poisonous innocence and she’s reaching for you, and oh no, you’re doubled over again, and she’s rubbing your back, and you’re clutching at your insides and you just want to hurl them at the wall and redefine expressionism. Transgressions displayed in a mason jar atop the fireplace mantel, like the ashes of some dead relative who stopped mattering when the estate paid out and your dad blew it all at the casino again. With a knock and a bump, the skeletons come tumbling out of your closet; their bones crumble into dust on your carpet. You've lost track of how often this happens but you think the carpet looks better grey anyway, and she’s still looking up at you. Those eyes so much like a child, riddled with naivety and wonderment, like you’re the perfect picture of Eden. It’s 5am and you can’t see the room through the smoke, and she can’t hear the cries for help over her utopian illusion of This Is All We Need. You were never one for cathexis and you hope she can’t see the blood on the walls, or the blood(lust) on your hands. She has the uncanny ability to not know, despite your nuances. She’ll never read into your mind the way she reads the words you carve into the trees and the sand and the snow. Every articulation of Truth is just refracted through her pretty little head and sent spinning into the abyss. The sun is rising and you wish she’d leave, but your shift in weight and your sideways glance is subjective to her and she promises to stay. So instead you make bets with yourself over whether your body falling from a 30 story building, or the rising sun, will reach the horizon line first.

1

Can you imagine a silent savior? I have one. All my thoughts stretch to it and There I find comfort, there I find reflections of my dreams, I invest myself. Here I find a cure for all the ailments of my life, all the hypothetical problems and abstract thoughts, providing me with feelings Every pill and drug claims to provide us with, but no prozac, no Xanex, no opiates or hallucinogens will ever allow me to connect with the world like this. I found Significance.

0

Dec 19, 2013

Dec 19, 2013 at 8:05 PM UTC

jami-belle

Cathexis

Can you imagine a silent savior? I have one. All my thoughts stretch to it and There I find comfort, there I find reflections of my dreams, I invest myself. Here I find a cure for all the ailments of my life, all the hypothetical problems and abstract thoughts, providing me with feelings Every pill and drug claims to provide us with, but no prozac, no Xanex, no opiates or hallucinogens will ever allow me to connect with the world like this. I found Significance.

8

Invested in you I find our better angels give ground ******* by our egalitarian feelings for each other Trumpeted by Gabriel’s miscast players Bedeviled, we take what are yours, mine, and ours Accumulated wealth protected from predators Gives in to charitable impulse Gives out, a gated community against colored encroachment My bias against the opposition Dissolves in your arms We resolve to devote our energy Toward getting off on the best footing available Place where we care and don’t simultaneously Then make fun of our foibles laughing at each other The same way black and white grays as we mature color blind Loggerheads whipsawed and dovetailed Until we forget why we ever came together in the first place Then remember this location, this smell, this touch, this taste Karass, storm's eye, held center, Kane's rosebud cathected

0

Aug 31, 2013

Aug 31, 2013 at 12:55 AM UTC

jeff-barbanell

Cathexis

Invested in you I find our better angels give ground ******* by our egalitarian feelings for each other Trumpeted by Gabriel’s miscast players Bedeviled, we take what are yours, mine, and ours Accumulated wealth protected from predators Gives in to charitable impulse Gives out, a gated community against colored encroachment My bias against the opposition Dissolves in your arms We resolve to devote our energy Toward getting off on the best footing available Place where we care and don’t simultaneously Then make fun of our foibles laughing at each other The same way black and white grays as we mature color blind Loggerheads whipsawed and dovetailed Until we forget why we ever came together in the first place Then remember this location, this smell, this touch, this taste Karass, storm's eye, held center, Kane's rosebud cathected

19

i cannot shake you because you are in my bone marrow and my every thought. we are old love.

0

Dec 22, 2013

Dec 22, 2013 at 10:17 PM UTC

megan-grace

cathexis

i cannot shake you because you are in my bone marrow and my every thought. we are old love.

7

Reverberations resound, Airwaves surround, The Holy Ethereal Transcribes my Soul Sound. I yearn for freedom, I sing for heartsease, I beseech the firmaments, That musicality conceive A New Dawn; Millenial Fawn; Material-Realm Transcendence; Spiritual Efflorescence, O, my Spirit is hearkening unto The Holy Dove's cathexis. Write from your heart, Sing from your soul, Unravel the Perdition Until The Vestibule of Lightness unfolds. Dream in stratosphere; Achieve upon The Terraqueous Plane; Ascend The Earthen Spire; Know we each bleed the same. What is music without love? What is Heaven without Hell? The Elemental Legacy beckons you higher, Legion fatidic arbiters conspire Rendering self-sovereignty a liar. Open your eyes, Unfurl your heart, Sing to the Aethers That The Spirit never depart. This is Musicality's Manifesto, This is Destiny's Diminuendo; Therefore, Know the blaze, fathom the burn Of unquenched ardor, unyielding zeal; With passion within, ye Shall never fail, So pilgrimage Life's Mecca Bearing its sacral travail. (Se' lah)

0

Jun 8, 2020

Jun 8, 2020 at 12:17 PM UTC

sandersmauricefoulkeiii

Musicality's Manifesto & Destiny's Diminuendo (Originally Written on Sunday, June 7th, 2020)

Reverberations resound, Airwaves surround, The Holy Ethereal Transcribes my Soul Sound. I yearn for freedom, I sing for heartsease, I beseech the firmaments, That musicality conceive A New Dawn; Millenial Fawn; Material-Realm Transcendence; Spiritual Efflorescence, O, my Spirit is hearkening unto The Holy Dove's cathexis. Write from your heart, Sing from your soul, Unravel the Perdition Until The Vestibule of Lightness unfolds. Dream in stratosphere; Achieve upon The Terraqueous Plane; Ascend The Earthen Spire; Know we each bleed the same. What is music without love? What is Heaven without Hell? The Elemental Legacy beckons you higher, Legion fatidic arbiters conspire Rendering self-sovereignty a liar. Open your eyes, Unfurl your heart, Sing to the Aethers That The Spirit never depart. This is Musicality's Manifesto, This is Destiny's Diminuendo; Therefore, Know the blaze, fathom the burn Of unquenched ardor, unyielding zeal; With passion within, ye Shall never fail, So pilgrimage Life's Mecca Bearing its sacral travail. (Se' lah)

40

"By this all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love among yourselves.” (John 13:35) This commandment is The Messianic Dictum. Sometimes I wonder upon how far aloft my flight my zenith may lie. What dost the apex of my pilgrimage bear? We all have a future. Love is the ultimate religion. Why? Because “It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.” (1st Corinthians 13: 7, 8) When we love, we taste eternity upon our palates. Love is the elixir of the soul. When my life is over, I hope to gaze upon the visage of those who I hold dear. I want to know that I’ve made a difference in the lives of those encompassing me. We all carry subjective burdens, subjective blights. This suffering is the commonality of all creation. Whence we ail together, The Catholicon of Ancients exalts us as one. The Faith of Dreams is a worldwide denomination, within which we need fellowship. The Universe is our temple, our Cathedral of Dreams. Beneath the firmaments, we all have an abode. We are all Sparks of the Divine. Fulgurant lovelight glistens in each one of us. The most bedarkened soul can house a diaphanous blaze of light. In light, there is darkness; moreover, in the night, there can reside light. Dreams can still serve a purpose to the entity inhibited by a worldly lusting. Ultimately, desirelessness is catalyzed by cathexis to the Deifically Divine. We must cleanse ourselves of corporeal desires until we wax holy. “I dream; therefore, I am,” said the sage. If this is true, the substance, the essence, the elixir of life is in upon the Dreamscape. In truth, any temporal expanse spent in The Chrysalis of the Astral is commensurable with augury. A dream is celestial summoning. Therefore, persevere amidst hardship, borne of tribulation is prophetic fulfillment. (Se' lah)

0

May 16, 2020

May 16, 2020 at 10:57 AM UTC

sandersmauricefoulkeiii

The Cathedral of Dreams (Originally penned on Wednesday, April 1st, 2020)

"By this all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love among yourselves.” (John 13:35) This commandment is The Messianic Dictum. Sometimes I wonder upon how far aloft my flight my zenith may lie. What dost the apex of my pilgrimage bear? We all have a future. Love is the ultimate religion. Why? Because “It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.” (1st Corinthians 13: 7, 8) When we love, we taste eternity upon our palates. Love is the elixir of the soul. When my life is over, I hope to gaze upon the visage of those who I hold dear. I want to know that I’ve made a difference in the lives of those encompassing me. We all carry subjective burdens, subjective blights. This suffering is the commonality of all creation. Whence we ail together, The Catholicon of Ancients exalts us as one. The Faith of Dreams is a worldwide denomination, within which we need fellowship. The Universe is our temple, our Cathedral of Dreams. Beneath the firmaments, we all have an abode. We are all Sparks of the Divine. Fulgurant lovelight glistens in each one of us. The most bedarkened soul can house a diaphanous blaze of light. In light, there is darkness; moreover, in the night, there can reside light. Dreams can still serve a purpose to the entity inhibited by a worldly lusting. Ultimately, desirelessness is catalyzed by cathexis to the Deifically Divine. We must cleanse ourselves of corporeal desires until we wax holy. “I dream; therefore, I am,” said the sage. If this is true, the substance, the essence, the elixir of life is in upon the Dreamscape. In truth, any temporal expanse spent in The Chrysalis of the Astral is commensurable with augury. A dream is celestial summoning. Therefore, persevere amidst hardship, borne of tribulation is prophetic fulfillment. (Se' lah)

8

I poured you a cup of hot tea, Paired with biscuits for you to see How special you are to me; How naive could you possibly be?

0

Nov 8, 2018

Nov 8, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC

yaniverse

Cathexis

I poured you a cup of hot tea, Paired with biscuits for you to see How special you are to me; How naive could you possibly be?

4

Should oaths may fade into obscurity in epochs of spaces Between certainties; its presence remains unfaded. As the season changes In its own right, An unwavering being still.

0

Jun 21, 2025

Jun 21, 2025 at 3:56 AM UTC

Noor

Cathexis

Should oaths may fade into obscurity in epochs of spaces Between certainties; its presence remains unfaded. As the season changes In its own right, An unwavering being still.

7