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"choiceless" poems
Like a final catharsis;  this alternative result resolves chance. I'm naive; but it's a cure to my heartbreak. Do you get my pain? The drastic change, pointlessly grabbing at the air, as my breaths get thicker and weaker. I'm voiceless; my options are choiceless. A final catharsis, warped by the carnage. I'm seemingly heartless, this wasn't my target. Now my mind's lethargic, at least it's harmless-
0
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 3:02 AM UTC
Catharsis
i was 15 when Kokopele knocked me up and i was ripe, though unready -- every day i visited my spot at first to relieve, but then to sate allure -- invisibly appeared, mysterious pleasure day and night throbbing at the thought of that strange spot. i clawed to sate in dream what goddess women understand in noontide reveries, sultry swells of swoon i don't know how my belly grew was it at that drafty wall or by the reeds.. there were several spots it seems. i am ashamed i was told to be ashamed of this belly i love, and body cravings carved into my soul, covert sudden lusts set in stone at 50, children grown and making music of their own, in tents along the streams' comingled murmur moans, he visits each in turns to teach the spiral dance and finish in the seeded womb. flowers glow to settle racing heart with truth infant recognition of an origin's choiceless birth and now, i am in force -- become katcina cougar, proud Kokopelmana: the role is taken by the horn -- eat my cornmeal cakes with crooked somiviki smile while i make you mine you can scatter but i will find you hiding purring soft to catch you firm -- every boy and man will learn .
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Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 11:13 PM UTC
Kokopelmana katcina cougar
My heart sought a home, even when I was in one, I moved here almost 9 years ago, I gave it my best, To settle, to adapt, to overcome, to thrive even, Instead I corroded, I mangled, I survived choiceless; Through all your lush green and the rain, I never found real comfort, just a respite, I suppose I was stupid to expect it at all, How does one find home in a war? Nothing has changed, I don't expect it now, I was just a city boy abandoned far away, In an land, where I couldn't speak or relate to, I'm supposed to belong here and I don't; It's amazing how far I've placed my mind away, I rarely live in that certain aspect of my existence, I'm somewhere I don't belong and can't go back, Where I used to belong no longer belongs to me; I'm a nomad in a place I'll never understand, I've grown accustomed to it's people and things, The tailored familiarity often backfires into me, I can't be in tune with them or them me, I'm a child of the Earth, nameless and unbound, Perhaps there is hope after all, I'm undefined, Tried to fit in their boxes, gracefully broke all of it, Maybe I don't fit in anywhere, the wildcard; I do take great pride in that, it's a badge of quality, The untamed among the tamed, blessed with chaos, A mercurial maverick who desires rest and calm, I'm only a person after all so I hope, I hope, I hope...
0
Mar 12, 2024
Mar 12, 2024 at 11:21 AM UTC
20:50
You and I have danced for decades, Stabbing me on the warpath as I giggled along, You taught me to hate myself the most, Way down to the vivisection of my soul; Am I just shifting blame? Didn't I hold the knife too? You gave it to me, I made it serrated and poisoned, Hence why I'm venomous, uneven and stubborn, Am I chaotic because I am or am I just unhealed? I held your hand as you plunged it into me slow, I thought you loved me, why else would you do it? To be so obsessed and devoted to my destruction? Isn't destruction just the beginning of creation? It worries me that you don't leave, you keep the blade in, Are you worried I'll bleed out or do you enjoy the misery? Have I learnt to love you choiceless and mistaken? Like the compass points north, the tall child feels comfort; 'A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort' Was I after all designed to be harmed or do I have a choice? I'm not alone anymore though, I have my moon now, She'll guide me home across the dark and quiet :)
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Mar 22, 2024
Mar 22, 2024 at 2:22 AM UTC
11:51
Perfection Superimposed with self-perpetuating pollution But being sustains all and won't mourn its loss Clear as the sky Untaintable Delicious Home Forever I am The end is just the beginning Shedding limitations In spring reborn A heart of immense power Cares for all No longer infected by the sick For illness is a choiceless choice That needs no cure This is the good news Rejoice
0
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 9:18 AM UTC
Is
Has he not been beared From seas to streams Marked with cutlasses and ashes Forced to swallow cowries Why would he not wear down his face? Has he not been living On his choiceless delicacy Concoction of gmelina roots And garlic sap Why then would he smile? Why would he dance? The voilent drummers in his skull Were pounding thier drums Like groups of carpenters Driving pieces of nails Into a hardwood Has he not been marched Round the village on pant Bearing a *** stained with dry hen's blood And rotten bones and stenching earth Why would he not dash out his wealth To seek a neater heath?
0
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 6:45 PM UTC
The Sickler
Oh, happiness, you know, is such a mystery to me For my sweet mind, so nubile, now tempted and teased In daisy chains constrained, becomes unflaggingly naïve Amidst hopeless, hungry caricatures of a fresh, degenerate breed--- It is these sad amalgamations of cynicism and greed That beg so caustically for my poor pauper’s decree Wholly, humbly, in morally hazardous beseech Reminding me that I will never be exempt from this disease Because a bird that has for all its life been caged Would know not, in freedom’s grasp, just how it should behave And I imagine, most ignorantly, would haplessly spend its days Flying in circles above the cold cell in which it was once contained For it is the fear within that forbids us from ever wandering astray Not, as we convince ourselves, those despicably tangible restraints But the prejudices and prospects upon which we were raised The unforgiving pathways of a pre-determined fate Well, I’d rather die simply, dreaming wistfully instead Because even the corporeal hand of freedom is ghostly akin to lead The poison in my veins that leaves me ****** and unfed It can scarcely compare to the beauty I’ve concocted in my head And ‘fate,’ I admit, is something that I’ve come to quite dread To think my end is not my own makes me wish that I was dead To be voiceless and choiceless and paralyzed in my bed A story that was written and never to be read My existence will never course on a single, narrow line And there will be many, many beds in which my loyalties lie The destination may well be as crooked as the path the arrow flies And for all of this uncertainty, I most assuredly will be fine Because mark my words; let doubt not linger in mind These cages and these pages will be now and forever mine Just an arbitrary reaction to the hand-me-down destiny I’ve defied The parameters I have made to covet all the corners of my life
0
Oct 28, 2011
Oct 28, 2011 at 7:46 PM UTC
Cages & Pages
Oh, happiness, you know, is such a mystery to me For my sweet mind, so nubile, now tempted and teased In daisy chains constrained, becomes unflaggingly naïve Amidst hopeless, hungry caricatures of a fresh, degenerate breed--- It is these sad amalgamations of cynicism and greed That beg so caustically for my poor pauper’s decree Wholly, humbly, in morally hazardous beseech Reminding me that I will never be exempt from this disease Because a bird that has for all its life been caged Would know not, in freedom’s grasp, just how it should behave And I imagine, most ignorantly, would haplessly spend its days Flying in circles above the cold cell in which it was once contained For it is the fear within that forbids us from ever wandering astray Not, as we convince ourselves, those despicably tangible restraints But the prejudices and prospects upon which we were raised The unforgiving pathways of a pre-determined fate Well, I’d rather die simply, dreaming wistfully instead Because even the corporeal hand of freedom is ghostly akin to lead The poison in my veins that leaves me ****** and unfed It can scarcely compare to the beauty I’ve concocted in my head And ‘fate,’ I admit, is something that I’ve come to quite dread To think my end is not my own makes me wish that I was dead To be voiceless and choiceless and paralyzed in my bed A story that was written and never to be read My existence will never course on a single, narrow line And there will be many, many beds in which my loyalties lie The destination may well be as crooked as the path the arrow flies And for all of this uncertainty, I most assuredly will be fine Because mark my words; let doubt not linger in mind These cages and these pages will be now and forever mine Just an arbitrary reaction to the hand-me-down destiny I’ve defied The parameters I have made to covet all the corners of my life
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32
everyday? really!  Yes.   choiceless. I'm tired. I'm sore.   I don't want to. Show up. Be present, do your best, breathe, wake up, practice and life moves through you in the most extraordinary ways
0
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 1:54 PM UTC
the practice
As  innateness building upon innateness, making amends with choiceless light... wing upon wind. Between bounds of breath, freedom teased apart...Love opening Love.
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Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 11:08 AM UTC
Freedom Teased Apart
You don’t have to come when it’s my call apart!? I am following the route of my promise given to a child a girl with a stray cat always found by the same cat   different color different shape once she also read the Tripods long ago but *No You are not her White Mountains I met you on the way* Find the truth for me- she said in plain joy bring us home when you grow up Home was where you could create magic A spherical  -transparent ball a living crystalline - singing made of colorful -universe particles don’t forget this one also has a crest remains invisible to they who do not already know the way - inscribed along caves above the eye-  and promise to keep me alive by your side as a beat in your heart I promised ... I grew up ... I forgot … Forgot to remember until I met love until I heard the beat and remembered and escaped just *No You are not so near You are always here It was me who ran away* I saw it all coming before our roads crossed and planned to lend you my heart for a temporary time of mortal maybe while calculating if -s If I were not good enough for me for you for her … Keep it well I said and plain for me cause I gotta be free and promise to always stay oceans away from me is our decree of creativity Pains I passed belonged to the absence of her or of you were set as traps on  both sides of a rewinding tape each gaze pulled us back to the same awful track until I learned to move ahead cause you gotta be free yeah and  keep it well for me cause we gotta be free For we I travelled worlds of  the destroyer until I learned to destroy time and move ahead from a central soundless line some of the illusionary erased others of truth stayed to make difference at shores of wisdom at  waters of innocence at crests of all sense I was healed for the healed is here to heal but alas in the meantime you made my heart real Choiceless and reduced to one I bounced back to you and to a place where we started as if  a promise is broke now or of decree surpassed hoping the -only if- by creativity ? all we can do is walk the unknown verse made by a quest towards the sun we shall see then the golden dawn at rest is at now blessed we are and one truth of her dream we become or else none (be destroyed by time) and they sang bold the chorus of her dream *Is she home yet? or still out playing ? ...again with that cat* mom said as if ... but no all I heard was my heartbeat.
0
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
The White Mountains
You don’t have to come when it’s my call apart!? I am following the route of my promise given to a child a girl with a stray cat always found by the same cat   different color different shape once she also read the Tripods long ago but *No You are not her White Mountains I met you on the way* Find the truth for me- she said in plain joy bring us home when you grow up Home was where you could create magic A spherical  -transparent ball a living crystalline - singing made of colorful -universe particles don’t forget this one also has a crest remains invisible to they who do not already know the way - inscribed along caves above the eye-  and promise to keep me alive by your side as a beat in your heart I promised ... I grew up ... I forgot … Forgot to remember until I met love until I heard the beat and remembered and escaped just *No You are not so near You are always here It was me who ran away* I saw it all coming before our roads crossed and planned to lend you my heart for a temporary time of mortal maybe while calculating if -s If I were not good enough for me for you for her … Keep it well I said and plain for me cause I gotta be free and promise to always stay oceans away from me is our decree of creativity Pains I passed belonged to the absence of her or of you were set as traps on  both sides of a rewinding tape each gaze pulled us back to the same awful track until I learned to move ahead cause you gotta be free yeah and  keep it well for me cause we gotta be free For we I travelled worlds of  the destroyer until I learned to destroy time and move ahead from a central soundless line some of the illusionary erased others of truth stayed to make difference at shores of wisdom at  waters of innocence at crests of all sense I was healed for the healed is here to heal but alas in the meantime you made my heart real Choiceless and reduced to one I bounced back to you and to a place where we started as if  a promise is broke now or of decree surpassed hoping the -only if- by creativity ? all we can do is walk the unknown verse made by a quest towards the sun we shall see then the golden dawn at rest is at now blessed we are and one truth of her dream we become or else none (be destroyed by time) and they sang bold the chorus of her dream *Is she home yet? or still out playing ? ...again with that cat* mom said as if ... but no all I heard was my heartbeat.
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137
The mantra of Hiroshima incarnate The map of every star in a torn fishnet Loss of life among other consequences Images of words as the devil slowly dances The apple of Eden's been bitten before Only now does it have some of Pandora in store A weakened mind in a deific shell The new tree of life unleashes true hell Broken, torn, shattered eternal face The petite, pure angel has fallen from grace Inconsistency in post-modern apocalypse Collapsing under the hound's charred up lips Burning new wings in a sea of the womb Blossoming inadequacy, eternal tomb Callous, joyless orange ocean abound The true retaliation, a hurricane of sound Lazy eyes and a dysfunctional throat Untrue might, a choiceless faux-goat Green, emerald, grass, truly loveless Alight the need to never again fess Drowned a nobody, a weakened coward Behind a true god's skirt he always cowered No more colors, a blackened white sand A recall of choices this boy doth demand
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Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 10:30 AM UTC
While You Were Out
Green cascading from the smooth curves of her hips— unmoving—of velvet flowers that I approach. Silken, they are; and with balm applied I kiss her lips. Wandering to discover Eden, without reproach, hands and eyes journey together, seeking what pleasure, what ecstasy, delight   the texture of her soft skin returns to me, peaking, I am only hers tonight. And yet the sun is not in keeping with the children of her Eden shores, swallowed up by her catlike creeping,   why side to side, like waves of joy crashing in curves of green velvet cascading. Eyes ablaze, yet shoulders coy her stare implodes my chest, inflating   waves of rapture, collapse, and drown me so I am but a child of sudden, timid choice. Why her eyes that say come hither, come slow, that motion stills and vibrates with her voice, yet I am a silent caress that goes up and down her thigh intending, from her waist to her lips; I am not a fool to woes nor a child to her eyes unchaste. Lo! Reflections of the crescent moon, the night unfolded like dreams hidden behind her eyes that call “lover,” to me soon I know, and yet cannot impede reprise for she is the sun that draws me out, and I am the seed that sprouts ***** before her. Choiceless and unaware of clout hiding nothing as if nothing were the object of my affections streaming from the fingers stroking down my chest, to lips that pucker open, and to her eyes, beaming shatter the gray of storm and jest that by the sounds of thunder repeating could not find meaning in the apparatus of her smile nor the significance of her heart. Yet still I search beyond the mile to understand what plays its part. The answer must lie at dusk between the hours sweet and bitter, which have no time, but smell like musk and whispers softly in sweet and gentle rhyme.
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Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
Venus or Bust (Reflections of Adonis)
Green cascading from the smooth curves of her hips— unmoving—of velvet flowers that I approach. Silken, they are; and with balm applied I kiss her lips. Wandering to discover Eden, without reproach, hands and eyes journey together, seeking what pleasure, what ecstasy, delight   the texture of her soft skin returns to me, peaking, I am only hers tonight. And yet the sun is not in keeping with the children of her Eden shores, swallowed up by her catlike creeping,   why side to side, like waves of joy crashing in curves of green velvet cascading. Eyes ablaze, yet shoulders coy her stare implodes my chest, inflating   waves of rapture, collapse, and drown me so I am but a child of sudden, timid choice. Why her eyes that say come hither, come slow, that motion stills and vibrates with her voice, yet I am a silent caress that goes up and down her thigh intending, from her waist to her lips; I am not a fool to woes nor a child to her eyes unchaste. Lo! Reflections of the crescent moon, the night unfolded like dreams hidden behind her eyes that call “lover,” to me soon I know, and yet cannot impede reprise for she is the sun that draws me out, and I am the seed that sprouts ***** before her. Choiceless and unaware of clout hiding nothing as if nothing were the object of my affections streaming from the fingers stroking down my chest, to lips that pucker open, and to her eyes, beaming shatter the gray of storm and jest that by the sounds of thunder repeating could not find meaning in the apparatus of her smile nor the significance of her heart. Yet still I search beyond the mile to understand what plays its part. The answer must lie at dusk between the hours sweet and bitter, which have no time, but smell like musk and whispers softly in sweet and gentle rhyme.
Continue reading...
44
Suppose it was known at the first moment, When you called on me to be your transition, When you, through me, enabled yourself to punish men both past and present, Vulnerable in me alone, left to liberate your power, That grace would sever our connection. I consented, I am no victim. Through you I've seen paradise through strength, In you, I carried my hidden reserve. I let you hold all that I know, and can be, So that I could remain choiceless, and meek, in the average eyes of the world. I gave to you. Love poured from me like a decanter small, and made of magic, And you simply drank! You drank and drank to my spirit's inspiration. It was unconscious greed, a taker's spirit forged from a foreign place, One where mercy and love, where civility, honor, and thoughtfulness, Never dared to infringe on the impulse to survive, But it did inspire me. Such basic and consistent placement of self first in the face of all that works to will one toward the world's masquerade of sacrifice, Was as astonishing to me as the freak, the genius, the new constellation, And I still struggle to understand what your experience of the world is like, Without the indefatigable tug of duty pulling at your pulsing heart. I reached my limit. And this discovery of imposition has warranted me my own selfish wills, I will not soon mistake them for the fancies of another. But I will say that there is grace in you, As you travel, composed of want alone, Healing those you hurt just enough to clear and clean the path you fashion, And I'll idealize you because you never humanized yourself to me. Or wanted my humanity. Our service to each other like points that hold along the sky. I affix my eyes on your cold and constant light. And discover a direction.
0
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
A Direction
Suppose it was known at the first moment, When you called on me to be your transition, When you, through me, enabled yourself to punish men both past and present, Vulnerable in me alone, left to liberate your power, That grace would sever our connection. I consented, I am no victim. Through you I've seen paradise through strength, In you, I carried my hidden reserve. I let you hold all that I know, and can be, So that I could remain choiceless, and meek, in the average eyes of the world. I gave to you. Love poured from me like a decanter small, and made of magic, And you simply drank! You drank and drank to my spirit's inspiration. It was unconscious greed, a taker's spirit forged from a foreign place, One where mercy and love, where civility, honor, and thoughtfulness, Never dared to infringe on the impulse to survive, But it did inspire me. Such basic and consistent placement of self first in the face of all that works to will one toward the world's masquerade of sacrifice, Was as astonishing to me as the freak, the genius, the new constellation, And I still struggle to understand what your experience of the world is like, Without the indefatigable tug of duty pulling at your pulsing heart. I reached my limit. And this discovery of imposition has warranted me my own selfish wills, I will not soon mistake them for the fancies of another. But I will say that there is grace in you, As you travel, composed of want alone, Healing those you hurt just enough to clear and clean the path you fashion, And I'll idealize you because you never humanized yourself to me. Or wanted my humanity. Our service to each other like points that hold along the sky. I affix my eyes on your cold and constant light. And discover a direction.
Continue reading...
34
When I had no choice,I chose life..... When I had one choice,I chose breath.... When I had unremembered choice,I chose my parents..... When I had two choices,I chose to walk, but when I had myriad choices,I chose you...... choiceless gave me choices, and now I realized I can unchoose the blessed choiceless life, through my sheer reverence and seeking thither my eternal maternal muse...
0
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
That which is not aka how to name it....
Perhaps a choiceless recording An echo in the room pressed and pushed like to straws on a broom Set to simmer then boil the plastic, the foil, bristles and coils I'm like the tools of the kitchen Used I'm given a purpose without reason There's a lock on the door without keys and I just want to know
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Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 10:41 AM UTC
Choiceless