"causalities" poems
The Sun Is Shining Today
The Storm Has Finally Stopped
a statement says:
<we have done something yesterday
nothing like our best
just something
to stop that storm>
the statement returns true as fact
inconsequent gestures of nature
we weave
to serve an unknown wish
-made of numerous physical and non-physical senses-
so that fabric of a network
evolves itself
materializes sense
sense to fabric
fabric to sense
scientifically improbable it remains
an infinitesimal loop
unwinds when you are not there
runs within an ideally operating closed circuit
remains invisible to the factual eyes of daily lives
an etheric vitality
materialized by our definable senses of touch, of smell, of see, of taste
and some of yet undefined ones
- possibly assigned to maybe a Poetic Variable-
executable within that program of simultaneous causalities only.
So then Only then
When You Combine the patchy Network
of Things
of Beings
You Can Dance Them
Sing Them
Play Them
Make Love To Them
Become One With Them
Compose Them
but
All these on condition that
it remains as an unpacked gift
Without telling to Yourself
or to Others
or to That Storm
because
You Don’t Even Have An Intention To Stop The Storm
All you do is Wish for Sunshine so you can maybe bike tomorrow
But again
How important is it really that biking tomorrow ?
I mean when sighs and cries whirl around?
a statement says:
<you can’t stop wars by fights>
the statement returns true as fact
And
if I know that
you can stop storms by touches
touches to smells
smells to lights
lights to metals
metals to elements
elements to stars
stars to flights
flights to a breeze on my fingertips
breeze on my fingertips to an auric kiss
then
I think maybe it is **** important to keep a seemingly futile wish to bike to a beach of my dreams tomorrow
so that I can be blown away on a broken December day
and let my long hair collect dune corrals made of cosmic ray
Huh So Yeah
I can Stop Storms if I want to or Create Some!
- not because I need to for my own sake or think about it.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
Today you said you'd always love me.
And you didn't ask for my naked *******
or my submissive body beneath silk sheets.
You didn't even ask for my loyalty.
It's hard to believe the tragedies that
we've brought to life before this moment.
I've always wanted a relationship to be dangerous.
Call it my penchant for self-harm, or my need to feel victimized,
but I crave love a that could burn down towns, destroy lives.
Passion isn't safe, it takes causalities.
People spend so much time balancing,
looking at their feet and trying not to fall.
We are brought up to believe that pain
should be avoided at all costs,
but what if your happiness lies
just beyond the thorn bush?
I won't claim to be fearless.
It seems that I am constantly caught
between apprehension and regret.
My indecision is a wall
that very few would dare to scale,
but your words are building me a harness.
The other side is surely filled with storms.
Treacherous animals that would seek to tear me limb from limb.
There may be *** holes and misleading signs,
long stretches of greedy quick sand.
But, then again,
no one remembers journeys
that were effortless.
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 12:01 PM UTC
anticipation mounts
as time lapses,
real time movement
quick, power, force
dark.
inertia spread for hundreds of miles
announcing its arrival.
its call. its loud. I feel it.
he’s beautiful.
I remember always
to look for
his speck of bright orange.
he knew a day or so
ahead of time.
since youth I heed the warning signs
signaling darkness.
my connections are sharpening.
this time I didn't need
his.
I watched the dark roll in
the darkness of creation,
of cells multiplying.
the darkness of your blood
rushing at the feel of
the storm coming in.
the task of light is commendable…
the geometric puzzle
can have no missing pieces.
the destructive force of
the storm
is necessary for new life.
if darkness is truly desired
one must dig ever so deep
beyond the identity
and the memories,
the causalities even
the perceived authorities.
to the spark that
still isn’t you.
analyze that space
darkness will truly come true.
fear not.
this darkness is you.
you percolate into
the presence as the light.
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 7:17 PM UTC
chemically imbalanced.
these two words
made up all of me.
my whole personality
defined by this one thing.
they call it anxiety
it takes away your sleep
it tears down your dreams
it makes you think
everything is a bomb
waiting to explode
a disaster
waiting to unfold.
a live wire
in my bones
making its home
in my soul.
a part of me
never apart from me
i lost myself
in anxiety’s causalities.
the cure came in an orange bottle
with a child safe lid
at first the pills were white
tiny little circles
burrowing in the creases of my palm
smooth down my throat
healing that tasked like chalk.
the pills are sunshine yellow now
smiling up at me
carrying the end
of my disease.
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
Orange rinds and coffee grinds
Take me back to easy Sunday afternoons
Playing chess with former churchgoers in your tiny café.
I met a man who didn't believe in God
But instead put his faith into the Queen
"She protects" he'd say after ousting another piece of mine
"He forgets" he'd mumble as an afterthought, directed at no one.
But as it goes one fateful day
Student surpassed teacher
And didn't think twice about killing the Queen.
As if a bomb detonated just within the cappuccino brown walls
The chessboard flung against the wall
Causalities flying in all directions
A porcelain blood bath.
He left in a hurried huff
All owl eyes all snapped in my direction
I sat frozen -- shocked.
You broke the trance
Kneeled down to pick up the fallen Queen
Placed Her Royal Majesty in my right hand
Placed a free coffee on my table.
The café resumed it's normal character
Scattered chatter and newspaper shuffling
I took a sip of the burnished brown liquid
Tasted a hint of bitter citrus
And came to conclude that there exists a distinct conflict between
Power and Empathy.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
you’ve had your whole future mapped out
since you were 16, sitting in homeroom
and hand-picking your life.
me, i’ve got no plans to speak of,
still trying to figure myself out;
everything major still undecided and undeclared
because pandora’s box is
always really pretty until you open it,
and the future’s really alluring until you’re in it
and you’re wondering if it really fits.
and i know it’s stupid trying to
plan for a car crash,
to plan on ******* up
but i’ve been trying to take precautions
in case i don’t grow into who you were counting on.
i keep your promises tucked in my pocket,
you make vows just to talk about it.
and i don’t know much about fate
because once my horoscope actually told me
that i’ll be alone and unloved forever,
born under an unlucky star,
so i’m not placing my trust in the stars
even if sometimes i get the sneaking suspicion
they might just be right.
i’m trying to dictate my own future without having a tongue,
i’m trying to find a future i’ll be content living in.
people are always waiting for time to run out,
and i’ve always been waiting for the fall out.
because i know all good things have to end
all bands have to break up, all stars have to explode,
all slow dances have to still, and eventually
all loves have to run out in one way or another.
and i’ve got front row seats to
the inevitable explosion
because you’re a heart attack and i’m totally doomed
we’re just bombs going off too soon
we’re just strangers dancing in a crowded room
we’re just ****** up and wishing on the moon
we’re just racking up casual causalities
we’re just reading our fortunes
in the coffee grinds and tea leaves,
half-joking and half-a-little-too-honest
when you peered at yours and said,
“it says we’re gonna grow old and grey together,
and move out of the city and have a bunch
of loud mouthed kids with your eyes.”
i don’t know about the future
and i suppose you’d like to tell me about it,
after all you’ve had your whole future mapped out
since you were 16, sitting in homeroom
and hand-picking your life.
but it’s an affliction, all those ******* predictions.
don’t tell me where you want to be in five years in from now;
tell where you’re actually going to be tomorrow.
because i was dying for this week to be over
and then i was dying for this year to be over.
and i can see it clearly,
my whole life lived in transit
on the way to something else.
i was dying to finish high school
and then i was dying to finish college
and then i was just dying,
and i forgot to live in the present in my rush
to get to the future.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 7:37 PM UTC
The darkened corners of forgotten yesterdays clouded the view as the gaping maw of need stared across the chasm at necessity . Almost as if there was a reason for it’s contiguous constituency it reflected the myriad animations of it’s creator . Crystalline forms in infinite diversity beyond the subjective sublimations of mass crowded the integral forms of it’s subjugated spontaneities perversions as the well of it’s unity sang of the cause for it’s being .
The single-mindedness of it’s recumbent beginnings were all but lost to the ramifications of itself as the children of it’s repulsion waxed and waned .
The twinkling of an eye , the integration of ages , countless extrapolations of it’s *********** vanished into the nature of their being as the tainted refuse of their wanton progressions began their mutual processions back to the source , or wandered through the surrealistic ethereum of their eternally predestined nothingness .
Causalities purity reigned as all became the reason for it’s own creation , and vanished into the implosion of it’s own ***********
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
They say when you go through trauma
It either kills you
Or you forget it.
They don't tell you what to do
when the options blend.
There's no hotline to call
when the memories you've buried
claw their way back up your throat
like the pills that didn't work.
I am a causality of a war I never fought in.
I cut my hair short so I can wash it in the sink,
For the days when my shower turns into a tardis I cannot control,
A time machine with only one date.
I have grown sick of not finding refuge in this time and place.
When I shave my head,
I think of how impossible it is to pull a buzzcut.
I write the date on every piece of paper,
But I don't really live here.
The present is just a hideout from the past,
The future a threat of going back.
I am on the run.
A fugitive of broken memories and stolen hope.
I lock each door in my house
five times
before telling my mom goodnight.
I check underneath my bed,
Move the clothes in my closet
until I'm sure I can see every part of the back wall,
and leave its door open.
I bend my eyes into every corner and hollow spot.
I will not go to sleep.
I will dream myself awake.
I wake up in my bathtub time machine,
Raise my face through the surface of the red water,
My long hair wrapping itself around my throat like promises from a time when I still felt alive.
I will probably scream,
And find myself back in my bed.
My family won't hear a thing.
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 6:34 PM UTC
A rush of a million causalities
Beyond anyones comprehension
A stirring emotion
Pulsing through and through
These aching limbs
Violent swaying
Thrashing towards the skin
A broken body
Lies deep within
Gashed but still moving
Their heart is slowly beating
A sad, hopeless beating
A struggle to hold onto
The light that is up ahead
A weak limb mightily
Wastes the last bit of energy
It once had
Crumbled now
The body is leaded
Stiff and ******
Simply trashed
Towards the ground.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 9:34 PM UTC
Watch three seasons ninety times
addicted to vicarious emotion
Hooked
in the cheek
by the glowing screens
messages
Blurred vision
unfounded
and
logical
causalities
Digging precognitive predicted graves
bitten on the stomach
The little hatchback just crushed his legs
Snubnose finishes the job
Shave your head and you change
like Walt and Shane
Become
Addicted
to words and images
like me.
Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 7:40 AM UTC
It's not your looks, your wit
your walk or
your talk -
You're danger!
For the unaware
with unencumbered hearts.
Causalities-
of your boyish charm!
Disguising what should be
a heart
but instead -
is a skull and cross bones.
Poison!
No reciprocation-
your shell of a soul
has been left
devoid,
vacuous,
unavailable.
For She who lies, deceives-
manipulator extraordinaire!
Holds your heart captive
and you-her schlemiel-
poor you -
are but a proxy
of the man
you could be -
you used to be-
reduced to
a living, breathing
heartbreak-
simply waiting to befall
poor fools
like me.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 5:18 PM UTC
I am putrid in all forms
Layers of disgust and angst,
I back out on any occasion; and yet,
I feel enjoyment behind the vex
Nevertheless, it is natural to blame the suspect,
While I blame the victim, whose sin is odious
The foul causalities, abnormalities,
Are part of a play by the master of puppets,
We dance around in the shadow they cast,
It was nice until it lasted, until love evaded,
I became apathetic and prone,
Until I became rotten, behind the phone.
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 5:16 AM UTC
I am lying on the bed,
the nurses are washing me
down and all over,
I feel the wetness
on my skin,
their hands and flannels
move over me,
I see nothing but darkness,
hear their voices
to each other,
chats about this and that,
of a bombing last night
and causalities,
and about that sailor
whom one had met,
and what he wanted to do,
but she saying;
I'm not that
sort of girl,
they wash over
my leg stumps gently,
touching softly,
easing the stumps up
and washing them,
and I feel as if
they are whole legs,
but they aren't,
just stump which
hurt and pain me,
how are you, Grace?
one asks me,
her voice kind
and soft spoken,
in pain and depressed,
I say,
wanting to reach out
and feel their hands
and touch their faces,
but don't,
my hands lie idle
beside me
like deserting troops
in midst of battle.
Now they dry me with towels
ever so gently,
one talks to me
of seeing the doctor,
some advice,
some insight,
but I'm elsewhere now,
thinking of Clive
back in 1938,
and that time
we stayed out late
and he stayed
at my place,
and we made love
in my bed,
and like some captive prisoner
(even though dead)
he resides still,
inside my
lying down head.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 3:28 AM UTC
The breakfast chaos theory comes quickly and with no aforementioned warning. A hell in your stomach like an ulcer with hands now kneading your internal organs into bread or maybe as a precursor for the causalities of a lonely afternoon or boisterous night, no one ever knows. Suddenly the birds make eye contact with you and you are not the center of your gravity, your universe; your mouth is a beat off to your voice as if buffering, but why would it slow down? No physics to that but it's intangible.
Just a school of thought, food for thought. Sipping your stale coffee from the same mug you use every day because sometimes he say " I lose you in between conversations, as if you're not there. Where do you go? what are you thinking? why do you never visit? why is everything a plea? why is it always getting further with you instead of closer. closer. closer." and i can't answer that because I learned from the best and besides I wasn't listening. But I was, I am.
The breakfast chaos theory comes too soon; always hovering, asking of you to stop being that deserted home department store. Aisles of the same fun-house colors: green and yellow or red and white. It's a worldly thing, I think. An anomaly you weren't supposed to expect but now you have and everything has gone moldy.
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 2:06 AM UTC
The Wings of a black bird curves,
As he’s deterred by the winds resistance
Contemplating its exist, but his will to go on is persistent
You see, he doesn't know what’s to gain
Or if he’ll find truth in those old sayings
Disputing myths and pointing out counterfeits
Depicting things in the distance, like he has a sixth sense
Reading the fine print on prescriptions,
Vulture’s find their addictions from the God’s
Because they have plenty of victims.
More than ****** or ******* Crack is wack, Mary Jane causes no pain
Medicines that aren't natural **** humans like its casual
Causalities building faster than the words of Socrates
The FAD of the F.D.A. approving poison as food like aspartame.
Preachers teaching blasphemy, Reading scriptures inaccurately,
Tickling the ears of those that pay a dollar to hear
That Jesus is coming there’s nothing to fear
So they believe they’ll be long gone before destruction is near
Death is at the door, but evolution is around the corner
The revolution will have to hold them
No true solution to control them
You see we are the caged beings
They lock our brains in
Books of lies, and entertaining T.V.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 8:09 PM UTC
an excerpt from internet:
"In fact, one interpretation of quantum physics is that physical reality does not objectively exist independent of the participating observers. "
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 9:49 AM UTC
Angels fall from heaven
With ****** in their eyes
Swords drawn for blood
They won't be denied
They've come for vengeance
They've come out of pride
To take back what's theirs
What they've been denied
The demons rise up
Like the dead from their graves
The dying masses cry out
They cry out to be saved
Angry and smelling of hell
They come to protect
****** swords drawn
They demand your respect
It's a clash of the ages
As demons and angles war
The earth is the battleground
Here to settle a score
A brotherhood divided
Since the beginning of time
A difference of opinion
Over the divine
Those that were cast out
Those that were raised up
The fine line of obedience
Knowing when you've had enough
The war will go on forever
The end will never come
We are the pawns caught in the middle
And will be until kingdom come
We are the causalities
In a war over beliefs
We are the plunder
That the victors get to reap
So close your eyes
Try to get some sleep
I doesn't matter what we believe
Our souls aren't ours to keep
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
Trying to get through a break-up
Is as difficult as walking a battlefield
Without dying or losing a limb
There will be heroes
There will be causalities
Many make it across
Many begin new lives
Many help win the war
And everyone is grateful
To reach the end line
Till you step on a landmine
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 5:01 PM UTC
between the kisses
and the hours we laid
naked exploring each other
with an insatiable thirst,
somewhere our vulnerabilities had melted
by the fireplace into sweat,
gasps became moans,
and the love turned to passion
as the war ended
we retreated like causalities
snuggling for comfort in each other
I believe this is how
I felt an unending trust
that hugged me invisibly
while you slept next to me
that night.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 2:04 PM UTC
My life was a tragedy.
Like a train wreck with mounting causalities.
I was on a Ferris-wheel of suffering.
As soon as I hit the top, I simply found my way back to the bottom.
I was the actor, all hopes lost.
Sitting, waiting for help to save the day.
Only my help never came.
My life was a joke, just no one was laughing.
The audience wore mortified expressions, rather than those of joy.
Agony spread like cancer through my veins.
It calcified around my heart and left me broken inside.
No matter how hard I tried to swim, the cinder-blocks were chained tightly to my ankles.
But then...
Then I met you.
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 10:06 PM UTC
there are too many written specimens of
hatred and pain
and of love
and all the cliches
this world is but dirt and grain
swallowed up in heavenly water
causalities of love lie here,
break apart from this embankment
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 1:50 AM UTC
i wish i could grow up all over again and go back
to that one second when i let him into my head for the first time.
the second i started counting calories like causalities of war.
a war that started that day.
little did i know of the casualties to come.
little did i know that i would slowly start to become one of them.
god created the world in seven days.
i destroyed mine within a fraction of a second.
if i had only known of the years it would take to take back that one moment.
i wish i could redo the day i planted that demon inside.
a demon whose roots grew too tight and too deep.
how is it that just one moment can change your entire life?
it’s funny because you wouldn’t think much could happen in a second.
but one second could be more influential on your life than
days, or months, or years, or decades could ever be.
it’s not fair, is it?
that that tiny number, so small it’s barely real,
can hold enough power over you,
to **** you.
(j.j)
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
her marble features beckoned to be broken
seized by palms, sculpted to crack
jaded lips stained by cerise and bloodied causalities
parting in a feint fruition of compulsion
obsidian gaze, lidded regard of carnal inferno
tearing his pulse apart with egotistical teeth
bestowing the incorruptible mark of possession
upon his blindly bared throat
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 4:58 PM UTC
Tides shift and ideals change, as the world goes through transition. Tensions rise between the old and new paradigm as philosophies change between the old and the new. Turmoil ensues as the causalities rise and both sides let blood flow. New rulers rise that are mired down in the old ideologies while new ways are created by those who wish to mover forward, but are held back by the shackles of fear that keeps others from embracing change. So a storm rises and chaos erupts as old generations pass and new ones come into being. The lightning flashes and the thunder claps as the world goes through the pains of the climate of change.
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 7:40 PM UTC