"clarify" poems
Last week I was taught that
no matter how complex an expression may seem
if you multiply it by its conjugate pair
you will always end up with a non-negative real solution.
That is a metaphor for how we have learned to love.
I used to like mathematics, as strange as it may sound,
because memorising the value of pi was
somehow easier than forgetting the notion of you
and I thought maybe comprehending the mechanics of the universe
would lead me one step closer to cracking the combination.
In a world that spins at the rate of 27,900m per minute, a constant can prove tricky to find.
Hence, there is solace to be felt in knowing that even when it is all said and done –
when the final bullet has slipped from our tongues and we are left trembling
upon nothing but the rubble of our own destruction,
two plus three will still be equal to five.
In an attempt to clarify a theory to the class, my teacher analogised
that mathematics is like one big giant jigsaw puzzle:
everything always fits together perfectly in the end
Since then I have learned it is the method without the madness,
the passion for the predictable; it is everything - that love is not.
Not even the greatest mathematician in the world
has been able to measure how much a heart can hold.
There is no algorithm for how to make you come back;
I cannot draw a line graph on the speed at which love left
and even if I could, our gradients would never be the same.
I may have both halves of the bed,
but there is never enough space to fill it with.
If a task takes four hours for ten people to complete
and the same job takes five people twice that time,
how long will it take for a human to feel whole again?
Sometimes I think we are nothing more
than two parallel lines that accidentally crossed paths.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 5:47 PM UTC
He looked at his object with an eye.
So, he came closer to clarify.
An angle that will compliment for each element.
A product that can make a statement.
He chose the bright colors to incorporate.
Because her smile suited a great light.
He focused the subject, and suddenly it was fading.
She was started running.
Running, from the picture perfect life that he created.
She was a medium of unrealistic bliss.
And found herself out of nowhere.
People envied her but they didn’t know the truth.
She was missing the unfiltered life.
She spaced out, and her heart was bruised.
He was definitely imaginative.
And fooled by unreachable perspective.
He looked at his object with an eye.
Thinking, with her was a root of a great life.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
~explaining light to the blind~
~for Suzy~
the insanity of even attempting
who among us, the sighted,
has the capability to clarify
an animate inanimate,
an untouchable invisible,
that can be folded, bent,
travel universes unseen
at its own chosen speed,
even to another sighted
and to the blind...
imagine then light
as something that
be recognized from the inside only with
in- sight
~***think of the continuum from
warmth to steel furnaced heat,
that is an element of what is light,
the sun cheek kissing, the furnace of chests
when you grasp another’s body first time
think of light as water,
the faucet spigot a measured pouring,
that can overshoot, the stream behind the house,
a toe tickling masseuse caress,
a dam’s waterfall endless crashing,
a sea, wave licking sudden raging dangerous
blend these sensations that belong to all,
and you’ll know light better than most,
indeed, light is for those who cannot vision
except from the inside with a sight that can be
touched, felt, imagined, and which the sightless
command better than us ordinary thoughtless
indeed light is as simple to understand as
abc,
which you have never seen, but creates the words
that we all
use
even share***~
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 6:34 AM UTC
I am in a room made of glass, sorry,
let me clarify,
the walls and doors are glass,
the carpet is woven by a machine where the workers are limited to toilet breaks,
the plants are plastic in pots of gravel
but the walls are glass and everyone can see in and I can see out.
The table is shaped like a kidney, don't ask me why, it just is, manufactured by a factory making furniture shaped like human organs.
That's the shape of the table, I can't change that,
and the chairs are moulded from one piece of plastic, in bright colours and people look in through glass walls.
I look out and I am really not there.
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 4:21 AM UTC
A sigh signals some sort of disclosure.
– glancing over his eyeglass frames
at the slow downward tilt of her chest
her gingham blouse rises again
as she inhales energy for her words,
words intended to clarify or confuse,
he does not know.
His own exhale and a frowning brow
signal that he is listening-
to judge whether her statement
is real or fancy.
Her words a mercury for her mood
no gauge left as he guesses
seeking to understand her,
to crawl through her veins like a virus,
to know her every desire,
every expectation, even every fear.
He is adrift in his own flaws,
unable to grasp precisely her feelings, her expressions.
His distrust is great whether of himself or of her.
Salt honesty with caprice and tasty fare is spoiled.
Gripping the arm of his chair,
muscles straining to lurch forward,
he escapes toward the door
leaving her words
to fill the hollow behind him.
Tomorrow he may choose valor,
today the fear of authenticity scares him to his den.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
I am 6.3 miles from home on an 11:30 night stuck worrying about the same thing of perspective.
The way I feel about you has driven deeper than casket nails in the past 10 hours. I know 3 weeks of my time will be a Friday night to you. Maybe it's more lopsided than my asymmetrical eyes, but these emotions go unrequited because of someone who is not me.
It's nothing of your persona, only your perfect idea. A philosopher doesn't fall for the thinker, only the thought. You're the vessel of my one flawless mental creation that came as a broken jar in an antique clay shop. I could have been born decades earlier and I still wouldn't have made it in time to tear you from something you never had to be attached to.
But now as I clarify my final statement on engineers and metal pieces, does the idea of me linger more heavily in her mind than yours in mine? I need a new appraisal and I've got 3 weeks and 18 miles. I have no expectations but I expect the world from you.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC
It's kinda funny, in this Language,
that the following two words should rhyme:
Rise and Demise
To me, it sort of implies a correlation:
philosophically rationalized
linguistic ties;
phonetic lies,
the phonetics lie.
Which lie? Will I clarify?
Certainly not!
For it is
double entendre;
maybe more, maybe less.
But nevertheless, the moral of the story is:
[this] Language is kinda funny.
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 9:31 AM UTC
**A breath before my next step
Actually no
I'm just going to take it
I will not think twice… or worry about whether or not I’ll make it
I'm just going to take it
A calculation before the next leap
Not necessary… I'll just charge with the blind bravado of fighting bull, as opposed to the clueless stupidity of a sheep
And yes, I realize that the blind can be clueless… and the brave can be stupid
But jumping into life is just like jumping into love and either being realistically passionate about it… or believing in Cupid… one of the two is just stupid
Just to clarify, if you actually believe in a chubby flying baby with a bow and arrow… dude?... Stupid!
Anyway, a thought before my next move
Ain't nobody got time for that!… while you're still thinking about it they will shove you out of the way all the while yelling “MOVE!”
You have the ability inside you
Subconsciously, but you can still feel it… it’s quite distinct
Don't overthink it, make the move out of pure instinct
If you can effortlessly do it… the better for you
On the other hand
If you are able to put in more effort, less doubt… allow the faith you have in yourself to stand out
Fill you up with confidence, then understand… it would be better for you
To just stand up, take that step… leap over that obstacle… and outsmart them on the next move, friend... just do it.**
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 3:05 AM UTC
Under the blanket of slanted waters, streaming down,
Behind the silver linings of the distant thunderclouds
The eternal sun lies suffocating, sheathed by the storm.
The rain smears the gray heavens. The world
Drowns behind the endless battery of the downpour.
Each trickle, each moment, quickly falling. Fading
Into the cesspool of dirt and debris. The pit
Of emotions and forgotten truths, washed away.
The leaves twist and turn at every droplet's touch
Crying out in soft thuds on the heavy roofs above.
Like the tin roofs and the sun and the heavens
And like the leaves and the dirt and debris
I gently whisper my pleas to the deluge:
*Rain.
Purge me.
Douse the embers
of false passion and ire.
Absolve me.
Cleanse this melancholy.
Ease these memories.
Purify me.
Rinse away the guilt.
Sink these doubts.
Restore me.
Clarify my vision.
Refine my thoughts.
Heal me.
Replenish my soul.
Bring about forgiveness.
Rain.
Revitalize my roots.
Soothe my mind.
Soak my bones.
Calm my spirit.
With your perennial blessings,
Bathe me in your sacred waters
So that peace
May finally find me.*
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 12:35 AM UTC
So I'm a "fly" white guy,
with "Jet" black tendencies,
Try to be a nice guy,
But somehow end up the enemy.
I'll treat you like a princess,
But I'm a fort,
You can't get into me.
It makes no sense to me.
How did this knight in shining armor,
Get slain by the dragon?
So once upon a time,
I was a hero,
Now I'm a has-been.
Last in the castle for I belong with the Pagans,
Slaying distressed damsels,
Giving hell to the angels
With strangers wrapped in mangers,
Destined for greatness.
Trapped within this labyrinth of my cranium.
But when it comes to blame,
My pigmentation begins to change,
But this time it's not my shame.
'Cause you play the same game
That the dames did before you.
You're no different.
You're not worth a fortune.
Fortunately, you revealed your horns for me.
It's torturing how for me it ended horribly,
and you moved on to the same dude you ******* before me.
Love's supposed to be patient,
Love's supposed to be kind,
Instead it's a battlefield
Filled with landmines.
You say it's false,
that nice guys finish last?
Well clarify why I'm starin',
At taillights from my past.
They say when you have everything,
You give nothing back.
So I guess that explains
Why your feelings for me lack.
You're like "You're a white guy,
That tends to be black.
Well how in the hell
Can I get used to that?"
That's ********
You're afraid of commitment.
That's why you had to end it,
Before it could begin with.
You're a cynical, sinister,
Hypocritical minister,
Angelic sinner sent to incriminate innocence.
Evil's equivalent,
Yet as sweet as carcinogens.
If heartbreak were a game,
Girl, you would be winnin' it.
If my soul were a food,
You would've finished it.
I had a confident conscience,
but girl you diminished it.
Listen kid,
I get you're immature and ****
But don't go and slander my name
When you used to worship it.
Love's supposed to be patient,
Love's supposed to be kind,
Instead it's a battlefield
Filled with landmines.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 2:23 AM UTC
She had this obsession with the sea,
I didn't understand.
She spent all summer there,
laying in the sand.
I never liked the beach.
Or at least I never liked the effect it had on her;
how she counted every calorie so she could wear a bikini,
how her heart-shaped sunglasses covered her eyes, her stunning eyes.
I never fully understood her.
Perhaps I should've spent less time
trying to figure her out
and more time by her side.
She wasn't one of my experiments,
she used to clarify that all the time.
And maybe she was right.
Now that she's gone there's nothing left to try to understand.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
I wish to get this out in the open,
I wish to clarify something
I must confess something to those who care about my writing:
My sense of humour is... well...
If you know me in person, you know my sense of humour
or what could be errantly said
to be a sense of humour.
I draw heavily upon:
facetiousness, mythic interpretation, sarcasm, satire, excessive formality, irony, wordplay,
a somewhat predisposed tendency towards not taking most things entirely seriously
even and almost especially when I am 'supposed to',
resorting to profanity on rare occasions,
and quite simply and succinctly a ****** up world perspective*
amassed over many years of living in this society
and from living with my late, similarly minded, brutally honest alcoholic Father,
in this society, nonetheless,
who in fact was at least *quite ******* directly* responsible for my aforementioned errant sense of humour.
If you knew him, you might say that I'm a "chip off the ol' block" in some ways,
but I know I'm quite ******* deviant from it in others.
So, to those of you who simply know of my existence via this digital outlet/public-sketchpad for my new-found passion of writing down every ******* thing I think it worthwhile to ponder again later, or perhaps even share with similarly minded, or at least accepting people; I wish to convey my deepest and most sincere pity, not in that it is anything that was your doing, just in that you can't possibly know my sense of humour and tasteless applications of irony and satire, and as such; I've probably offended some people.
However, for some anomalous reason,
some of you seem to like this stuff
So I'm going to keep it up.
If you read this: thank you,
but if you did not, then **** you;
however, if you didn't initially read this but were later directed to it by me or by some other personage,
fictional or real,
or for some other reason happened across it,
I rescind the aforementioned **** you" in light of conveying my deepest and most sincere
"Thank you for putting up with my weird-ass ********
I appreciate anyone who finds any value in my works.
I also appreciate the improbable nature of anyone liking my brain-vomit.
I love creating and I love sharing my creations,
so when that all works out,
I'm ******* fit as a fiddle;
Giddy as a schoolgirl on Prozac;
Happier than a young necrophiliac who achieves his boyhood ambition of becoming coroner.
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
Because Instagram is my medium, and because somewhere deep down--in that place that no one talks about--it makes me feel immensely validated: putting out my ******** and receiving little bits of peer approval in return... Because I still smoke too fast when I want that short indulgent rush to last the most, so light another. Because the Itunes visualizer is an assured source of inspiration when I am feeling small about the universe, and about the 5-ish senses that I am confined to, and because there is too much of me to simply be kept quiet; because the things I want are wanted too completely to shut up about. Because I am doing excellent, and I want everybody in the world to applaud me for it--for my relentless and unyielding grasp of sanity, which often slips without my sureness be-ing lost along with it, and because the wreckage is a comfy place to lie when everything comes down to it...
Because admitting to yourself that you are addicted is the first step to recovery--or so I am told,,, and because denial is the first step one must fall from if they're itching to reach bottom... Because I am tired of climbing and have learned--among all else--how to enjoy the weightlessness of this long fall and the uncertainty it brings: uncertainty being my one true love, alongside mistress logic, who I truly LOVE returning to with open arms, seeking her comfort after a long long trip-- where I can walk winter without minding cold, and can enjoy seeing all the sights and all the Mad, Mad characters that wonderland contains. Because there is no 'character limit' nor is there censorship where I am concerned. Because I crave the criticism: that repetition is a cheaters way to write--and I want to cheat life's limitations and all social standards every chance I get. Because above all else, below all else, I want to clarify that--through every lesson I have taken-in since recently deceased December, and through all I have learned painfully, through the confusion and unrecognized irrelevance,
Because the greatest thing that I have learned thus far is: I am learning.
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC
I was a no name worker bee
Yet I had a million bees all working for me
I was a caryatid, house wife, never had the life of a queen
Stole my honey from the wasps with the wax in their wings
I was a comatose burn victim
I could hear the nurses whisper sanctum sanctorum!
They fed me nutrients and cleaned my ******
They either didn’t care or they didn’t think I could hear them
I was alive when the lightning struck
But I was dead by second, to survive my luck
I wasn’t anything special
I was a mass produced individual
They had no names worth knowing
They had no future where they were going
And I never thought twice about what I did
The quiet megalomania of a caryatid
And then my patience turned to rampage
I took a page from Genghis Khan
I wanted the roaches gone
I hatched suburban escape plans
Because my angst was delayed
A generation late & afraid
Now in the presence of the gods and goddesses
And in the confidence of infinite this is
Another power grab a singularity
Another force to fight reverse polarity
I’m all about the lust and not the wander
I am the lingering presence of a long goner
I’m here to clarify the **** of daughters
The spider stink in the breath of fire
If we could **** for utility instead of a performance to showcase our species’ ability
Then we’d be hunted by viruses
The gods and goddesses with the instinct to extinct humanity
Chaos is healthy, its part of reality, essential to symmetry, like night is to day
When life is weighed on a pendulum
Like sanctum sanctorum
The delicate faberge
There isn’t anything to bother with on top of the monolith
I’m shouting mantras from the mountain peak
There isn’t any time to practice with a modern creation myth
A lullaby in a language I don’t speak
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 9:51 PM UTC
Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy.
Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy. Vacancy.
Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy.
Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy. Vagrancy.
Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly. Aimlessly.
Rambling rambling
trying to
say….
…what.
What is…what is…this world…but a tiny little thing.
A speechless infant. A cowslip in spring.
A girl. Who I am…? A…
Thing. A thing. Imagine! If I can…
When everything is vast. No words, no way.
No truth, no words. No way.
No truth, no words. No way.
No truth, no words. No way.
To say…
I’m a girl wandering in April. I’m a girl wandering in April. I’m a girl wandering in April. I am a girl wandering in April.
I’m a woman wandering in April. I’m a woman wandering in April.
I’m 70 and I’m wandering in April. I’m 70.
Who…a cowslip
An IV drip.
Me, wandering with no words.
Then, brain
working down
the whole machine
no, just the mouth
to verbalize and verify
and analyze and clarify
and organize and ratify
and formalize and justify
the vacancy
of vibrations
in my vox box.
complacency
of situations
until one talks.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
I truly do wish
I could be more like you,
to live life without regret.
Won't you teach me
how to do as you do?
I promise to never forget...
First, clarify
just how to fake love
so others see it as real.
Then drain my soul
until it's void of
any feelings it may feel.
Instruct my heart
how not to break,
and like yours, turn to stone.
I'd never know loss
with nothing at stake;
I'd never be hurting alone.
Now demonstrate how
to walk out and leave
without ever saying goodbye.
Do disclose how
you so easily deceive...
teach me just how to lie.
Train my eyes
to shed no more tears;
reveal where pain should hide.
Then teach me how
to confine my fears,
keeping them all locked inside.
I must know how
to ignore the lust
found in a passionate kiss.
Then un-teach my mind
the meaning of trust
so I'll never again feel like this!
Now explain how
I can forget our love,
make me believe it wasn't true.....
And then when I master
all the above,
then, I will be more like you.
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 10:45 PM UTC
"It is a deepening,"
she said
and took his hand
to her watery bed,
beaming her light
upon those almost
invisible threads
in particles subtly
speaking
in sparkling aquatic tongues
like colored crystals,
felt in shards of icy wine
shells sifted
in far-flung
seas of time
Shining down as
we dive to the depths
we lead each other on
We are the
explorers of the dark
We have
powerful equipment
to attempt to clarify
radiate it all up
and if it fails,
the light from
our eyes and hands
is enough to illuminate
the murky
waters below
our salvation,
deep-sea secrets
revealed—
churning in undertow
In fact, if you dare
to penetrate the dark
and cast aside
fear of predators
you will see-
the ruins of
an ancient temple
waiting,
just waiting
for you
for me
to dance amongst
the algae-coated
alabaster, green
wisps moving
in hypnotic motion
to weave in-between
the fish and corals,
a magic breathing in
of ocean
in sync with our own
breaths
This expanse of endlessness
…..so many layers to discover
to sway and trip the light
in quiet,
breathless joy
The feel of electric
flow around our feet.
Saltwater,
turning sweet.
It is time
for the next stage
to begin
So tip your
head back,
my love---
and
drink it
in
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
A Hard Knock alum, not permitted to blossom
No one ever there who'd care to clarify "how come?"
Deep down, in the depths of my heart shaped chasm,
I know what's about to come in is the inevitable outcome
That I forgot to remember I was still and forever running from
Or,
More likely
Subconsciously, finally and fully drained, exhausted and done
This was not that much fun
©2024
Apr 14, 2024
Apr 14, 2024 at 6:29 PM UTC
Reflect, reflect, reflect
Trust yourself and trust your client
Accept those you counsel
If you don't know what to say, smile
Finish on time
Don't talk too much
Show your joy
Hide your judgments
Try to work yourself out of a job
Love yourself
Clarify, clarify, clarify
Stomp out erroneous thinking
Keep Kleenex handy
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
When I open my mouth
And words stumble out
the wrong ones
bring my pride down south
"I'm gay"
I say
every time, every day
every way
And then I speak up
and clarify
"Well, actually
I'm bi"
I hope my shame is as discreet
I hope one day I can say it clear
"I'm bisexual, isn't that neat?"
And I hope it is so this year
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
it almost feels like the literary critique
establishment never heard
of the digitalised version of literary
print... a bit like the dynamic
of ***********
they read **** on toilet paper
and never the small print.. no metaphor,
no pun, poet is dead with god,
you remember, let's keep it like it's 1977
with punk angst, o.k.?
well 1 1 1 of the fingers on toilet paper...
**** smear....
eager music critics, but hardly any
pornographic critics, make a living they say...
cheap pop! ah, cheap pop! chop chop!
butchers' eyes first, priests' last -
liver bitter a minded care for it
as if minding a child! curse the minding!
curse the liver! a swarm of egos,
selfish likened to a marketplace
selfless likened to a monastery -
there the likening to clarify staring into a mirror;
there where we ate everything, including thought,
the materialisation of its immaterial twin: soul;
we too ate with the lineage concerned
via the Eucharist.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 9:41 PM UTC
Oh my darling bestie..
I have no mood to be around you.
But that doesn't mean that I don't want you as a friend,
Or if our terms are approaching dead end..
But I have no mood to be around,
I don't know even if idiotic I sound..
You are my bestie, and always meant to be,
But currently I have some different plans with more priority.
I love talking to you, but I have no time anymore,
I am either tired, or exhausted.
And you somehow happen to demoralise me..
I told you many a times indirectly ,
But no good it did...
You don't want to hear what's going on in my life,
You don't want to hear my views about anything..
Correct me if am wrong, but I ain't your diary..
I don't want to meet you, when you cannot come to see me,
Don't expect me to be so crazy about meeting you..
You maybe going abroad for years four,
Doesn't matter the distance I promised Our relationship won't turn sour..
But dear, what's wrong with you?
Why don't you understand?
You are purely selfish, and tell me that am selfish..
You disturb me during the exams, to clarify your so called doubts..
You don't let me sleep, make me weep,
And tell me, that you are my bestie..
I don't feel like keeping contacts with you,
You think all your misconceptions are true,
You don't want to hear me, and am not a dummy to hear you..
My life is boring, yeah well accepted,
But I don't want you to make it more boring..
I don't wish to be around you,
I don't care about you..
Stop imposing such restrictions on me,
Which you too can't even do..
I am sorry, but I can't travel to be around you,
If everytime it has to be me..
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 3:42 AM UTC