"completing" poems
i. when I was young, I was never complimented. I never felt good enough and it hurt and somewhere along the line I began complimenting everyone because I was never complimented and I never wanted anyone to hate themselves the way I did. just because I call a girl pretty does not mean I want in her pants.
ii. we live in a country where a gay poet spoke at obama's second inauguration, where five openly gay senators serve, where all fifty states have had a gay elected officer in some capacity, so if I were to be gay, what's the problem with a relatively unknown sixteen year old girl from a relatively unknown town in a relatively unknown state being gay?
iii. do you want me to be gay? do you want a better, more socially acceptable reason to make fun of me? is my weight not enough?
iv. I was taught the term fluidity by my best friend Alyssa. she firmly believes that sexuality is a spectrum, like many other things. I have a different view on sexuality because I see it as a spectrum, not something that's set in stone.
v. I like making people happy, I like completing people, I apologize a bit too frequently and I was taught how to accept people.
vi. just because I call a girl pretty does not mean I like her. just because I say a dog is cute does not mean I want with the dog. just because I say a painting is pretty does not mean I am going to **** the painting.
vii. aesthetic is a very important word.
viii. there are three kinds of attraction, aesthetic, romantic, and ****** just because you have one does not mean you have all three. just because I like the way something looks doesn't mean I am going to have *** with it.
ix. sexuality is an Identity. not a YOUdentity.
x. I'm not gay, but if I were, trust me, I wouldn't go for such a whiny little *****
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
I met a gypsy couple the other day
In the park of course
They were a lovely, beautiful mess
Trucked in right from Santa Cruz
They loved lots
Only four days
Her car stuck in some lot
I laughed a bit
I had to admit
I too
Knew the feeling
Being stranded
Deprived
Wrecked
Solititude
I gladly changed their tune
Convinced them tomorrow
Come noon
They'd notice a chance of attitude
Another chance at eternity
A moment devine
And poetic as the last
There's no such thing as time?
We're all actors in a grand tragedy
Lost gypsy couple and believers of
Tiny miracles
Completing
Relieving
Resolving
Appreciating the tiny moments
Of eternity
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 4:03 AM UTC
It all begins
With pronouns
I becomes the subject
Of my project
Adding you
And collectively we
I choose you and me
And I exclude the he and the she
Until I am certain of we
You and I pick verbs
actions
Inflect them to match
fit
begin narratives
Transitive verbs take objects
You touch
tickle
tease
taste
take skin
*******
lips
me with words
Words have become a clause
But still a simple construction
So, you tickle me where?
For this you need a preposition
To position your tickling ammunition
Do you touch
tickle
tease me ON my *******
*******
thighs
buttocks
****
Do you feel me INSIDE my mouth
****
soul?
Positioning is envisioning.
Then you use adjectives
To modify descriptions of
Sensory inscriptions
So, gentle complements touch
Soft and passionate kiss
And you become superlative
And adverbs elaborate experience
expression
exploration
You fill me deeply
thoroughly
violently with all that is you
But adverbs can also mean time
Not sweet or cursed time
Or time denoting age
But timing is always important
And grammar dictates
That
Time adverbs are placed
As a beginning or an end
Like a lover's embrace
Thus,
This morning, you woke me with
A demanding "here and now! " and I will reciprocate this, tonight, I vow.
Conjunctions are sentence connectors
And sentences behave like detectors
Bodies balancing with and, but, or
Otherwise subordinate
And the scale tips towards
Conditioning hypotaxis
Making actions a complicated praxis
(before my mind can connect, you will have to pursuade it /pursue it)
But we coordinate conjunctions
Equally
I touch you
You touch me
Exploring
Exploding sensory functions
So, together we cry imperatives
Completing our ****** narratives
Moaning
Whimpering
Begging
Yelling: Please... bind me!
touch me!
bite me!
take me!
come!
Oh! Please, come!
I love the English language... ;)
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
How can you miss someone's voice you have never heard and how can you visualize someone'es eyes you have never seen?
These are questions that alter the reality of someone's being.
Even though I have never met you and have no knowledge of your existence, I know you are out there. someday I will find my King.
I know that your lips are softer than rose petals and the Melanin in your skin fills women with desire.
But as I lay in these silk sheets and relish in fantasies I know that nothing between You and another woman will ever transpire,
Because You're Mine.
The dimple within your right cheek and the mischief in your eyes are all significant marks that you are no else's but Mine.
The sway of your walk and the charm when you talk are characteristics held for a woman who goes by My Name.
Our connection is nothing short of beautiful and the intensity of our relations make any other love seem inhumane.
I know this, even though to everyone else you still cease to exist.
I know our hands will lock together like the missing pieces completing a puzzle.
Making me Your's, but more precisely making you Mine.
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
*She will lose herself in a book
and find herself in poetry
She thinks that religion is a sacrilege
and that long showers are sacred
She makes love when she's tired
and never tires of making love
She is irreverent in her humor
and pious in her gravity
She is diligent in completing her work
and ambitious of her quest for leisure
She is the personification of romanticism
and the embodiment of compassion
She exists harmoniously in my mind*
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
Intro:
Start with a hook sharp enough to catch many fish.
Move into a broad outline of topic.
Add some examples to peek the interest.
End with a sentence that captures your thoughts.
(Start the way you feel it should be).
Body:
Flavorful topic sentence to open paragraph one.
State in detail specific examples and definitions.
Follow with a reference or two,
This keeps suspicion off you.
Keep same format for paragraph two and three.
(Continue on the feel that increases how you started).
(Or retrograde and start a new direction).
Conclusion:
Wake the reader back up with thesaurus found words.
State again the reason for your thoughts.
Honing specifically on what you want to say,
Without of course bringing in new info.
End with a memorable sign off.
(End with completing your thoughts).
(Or start a new idea entirely),
(Not leaving enough room for explanation).
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 2:47 AM UTC
You have no idea
What it's like, to be a woman
Everyday is a baptism by fire
As she walks on the street
Hundred hands appear
From nowhere, as if conjured
By a deft flick
Of a magician's wand
A magician who sends chills
Down the length of her spine
Chills that surpass even those
On a wintry night in Antarctica
Leaving her frozen
Till every bone stands still
As she is stripped of her dignity
Reduced to a shadow of her self
She strains every sinew in her throat
As she sends out a distress signal
Which fails to be intercepted
As the people look on
Some with fear
Some with sheer indifference
Some with a perverse interest
But none answer the call of duty
The call which is as basic
As the need for oxygen
You have no idea
What it's like, to be a woman
As she heads home
Seeking much needed solace
She is instead upbraided
For wearing a short skirt
For walking alone in the night
For not being a lady
As she fails to get support
From the family she holds dear
As a shipwreck survivor
Barely floating in freezing waters
Clings on to that piece of wood
Her self-esteem nosedives
Like that fateful Air India flight
That crashed at Mangalore
And shifts the blame onto herself
For not understanding the men
Who've brought her to this state
And succumbs to Stockholm Syndrome
Completing a vicious circle
Leaving men and the patriarchy winners
Winners who deserve the title
As much as a student
Who clears his trimesters
Using bits of paper
Tucked neatly inside his shoes
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 1:20 AM UTC
Art, unborn,
aches to find form;
to manifest itself.
Within me it screams,
while those around
remain deaf to its cry.
It claws to free itself
from mortal chains,
restless to share its vision
with the world;
to tell its story
in verse and beauty.
This art within,
impatient, cannot wait.
It struggles to find
its voice
within my finite days
and world.
Until at last,
like a volcano,
unable to restrain that voice,
it erupts,
and my art flows out,
spilling onto paper.
The words and images
become solid,
taking form,
giving birth to the art within.
Thus, completing me,
quieting the cry inside.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 9:00 AM UTC
Like a captive, I capture rapture wrapping around stakes that matter
Joan of Arc battered
Also tattered but, easily dismissive
Refracted from fractured prominent phrases people play with
Distinctly persuasive and evasive, dressed boyishly attractive, lax stature, dawning armor crafted by absence as if asked about it-
I’m drifted
Protection is principle prerequisite, when fire is lit
I sort of implore your aorta before it’s incinerated to ashes
Dethatched as a habit, with swords or hatchets crafted to singe heartstrings that attached it
While I slash slick Rick as a quick fix,
To fend for pretend pretenses or presumed tricks,
I can’t quit
Cause I hit lips against hash spliffs fashioned with dashes of passion all while rationing fireball cinnamon sips
Martyr to avoidance
I gaze at fabled dazed gossipers galvanizing grips on gritty grapevines while licking warning labels through smoke haze on blurred lines
Capably unstable
Other eyes attending scandal circles able to shout lies and rekindle handed arguments on tables with locked smiles stay boxed in
Avidly amiable
Searching for counterparts when combusted or branded
Toying with matches loses meaning when rules reseed
Those vagabonds claim love is some all end hard bent to mend what the same above can’t comprehend.
Breaking boredom, I pillage pillows with night terrors
And ardent arsonists yearn for flames that churn, turn, liquefy and learn learned thoughts and smoldered feelings
Completely complacent
Melting in one another they are completing each other like two candles tryst true at a wedding day
However later the blaze is severed, smoke sears, and charred black wick stands alone for them.
Aggressive and progressive.
As for me never pleading, fire forever fleets to streets between iron bars I built that cage in deep heat and seep dire dreams once desired
Suppose I’m a skeptic
Roasted or disconnected
Just jaded, just met you
Always over it too soon
Burnt but I’m amused.
I’m useful.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
Basking in postcoital bliss, talking between the sheets
catching our breath, giggling with laughter treats
Laying in the afterglow, tangled in the sheets
sweating cooling skin, and completing greater feats
Blissful in post euphoria, feeling quite appeased
finding comfort in warm arms, putting me at ease
Still sighing, touching, tasting, nuzzled in content
reveling in the splendor, our minds and bodies, spent
Let me drink, this moment in, before we turn to clocks,
wishing only to start again, as seconds ticking mocks.
Snuggling together, eyes and hands so locked
wishing for ourselves, more hours, on the clock
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC
I’ve fallen head over heels.
Crazed into an unknown and different love.
And this time I know.
I know it’s different.
So different; because my heart beats differently now.
Not out of sync. Not out of place. Not beating in pain.
It beats like it was meant too; in rhythm to something that matters.
Into something that might change you.
Into becoming perfect in someone’s eyes.
The beauty of something so real, makes everything seem like diamonds.
All unique; always and endlessly lasting forever.
Communicating sweet gestures and making love seem like a person.
You patiently wait and watch it grow.
Into a gorgeous emotion.
That will never leave your sight.
Because now.
It’s a part of you; a part of your life.
I’ve landed in the arms of someone who makes my bones weak.
But manages to keep me together with simple sentences.
You are stunningly beautiful.
You are everything I could ever want in a person.
You give me butterflies when I see you.
It makes you fall to pieces. Crumbling like your favourite dessert, but still tasting ever-so sweet.
You melt.
But you are still intact; more intact you ever thought you could be.
And you smile, making you feel whole again.
Completing the jig-saw puzzle of your life.
We all dream.
Of a love which will carry us away.
That will make us feel like a fantasy in our own special movie.
And we’ll live happily ever after, regardless of where we are.
Never doubting anything that may come your way.
A love so powerful, that the settings don’t matter.
Only the two of you count.
Time seems so unimportant when you’re together, because you know what makes you grin.
Living your dream, with that one person.
Who makes the day all worth it.
So I’ve fallen head over heels.
Into something I never prepared for.
Into something most people can only dream of.
And in that moment, when you feel the love in your soul.
You are at peace.
Cuddling up to the one who made it all happen.
Thinking... “Thank you, for making my dreams become real”
And they’ll smile, and say “I would never take it back. Your love gets me through the day.”
The psychic bond, of the minds.
And you’ll melt together, like ice-cream on a chocolate cake.
So sweet, so right together, and the moment will last forever.
Like lovers.
Aug 26, 2010
Aug 26, 2010 at 4:07 AM UTC
We are polar opposites
You are West, I am East
Our views always contradict
You have a sweet tooth, I don't like sweets
You are white, I am black
Not literally, but just in life view
Sometimes you're ***** white and I'm clear black
It varies from half empty to half full
You are an extravert
While I am an introvert
You like being surrounded by people
I'm fine being secluded in the darkest corner
You're frank and always true
I lie so no one will have a clue
But you always know what I hide
While I am oblivious if you're really fine
You are a cat-lover, I am a dog-lover
It rain cats and dogs when we're together
You sing the sweetest meow at my whimper
I happily wag my tail at your purr
We both like music though
But we listen to different genres
We never even shared on one earphone
So sometimes we just endure the silence
You are a sadist, I am a *********
You leave bite marks on my skin
Whenever you're overwhelmed
But I'm really fine with it
You like Vampire Diaries and Victoria's Secret
While I like TVXQ and anime
We'll never agree on a TV show
Now who's gonna hold the remote control?
You are a clean freak
I am not that very clean
You're probably next to Godliness
While I'm second to the last in that list
You are very hardworking, I am lazy
While you are being busy
I'm being a potato on the couch
"Sweep the floor.", you said as the broom flew on my face, "Ouch!"
I like food trips
But you are on a diet
You like to eat healthy
I like to eat anything but veggies
True, we don't have anything in common
Except for the dislike of the black part of the fish's meat
But we are familiar of our demons
And the how-tos for its defeat
Yes, we must be polar opposites
And yes, we're like magnets
Positive plus negative
To each other, we are attracted
I am salt, you are pepper
And we complement each other
We are each others' puzzle pieces
Completing each others' emptiness
We are yin and yang
We cannot live without either one
And most importantly, you and I
We rhyme
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
Little speckled bird,
quirky nerd, owl eyes-
gleaming behind the glasses,
often you zoom inwards
and land in that never never land
beyond the reach of most,
yet I am in love with your
ingeniousness that defies words.
bit strange it may sound
but I am one who explores
the hidden spaces beyond
my desired comfort zones.
they warn me saying a nerd
is a killjoy, nothing else
Swimming against the tide
I hear your excited chirps inside
making me restless with anticipation,
my intellectual slant
received your approval,
many times,I am hopeful
growing my beard long
I'll wait here, till you return
completing your mission.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
Your aura
Is like the fog
underneath the blue sky
beckoning the ground
and settling peacefully, pure.
Thick and lustrous,
completing the world
with every part,
every breath of you.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
From beach to beach to beach, glimmering shimmers of sand laden waves lap lazily at your feet. The seaweed masquerade of the crab clumsily dancing amongst the foam is paradoxically poignant but apt.
Sighs of relief as the soothing sensation of the sea on hot blistered feet capture the essence of the moment. The simple pleasures of the beach; sand ridden toes and remarkably veined geodes; the golden grains and barnacle encrusted rocks provide a unique treasure indeed.
And then comes the gentle pitter-patter of a sunshower- putting a literal damper on things- but uniquely completing the picturesque scene.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
Isn't it ironic?
How one can die while being completely alive?
Or
When the nights becomes days and the days becomes nights?
Or
What we can't see is supposed to be what we should see?
Surely, We live in a world with infinite possibilities.
One day you're here
One day you're there
Sometimes this becomes that
And that becomes this
But
We live in a world,
Where time slows as we lose the joy,
the excitement of life.
And the moment we do get that joy,
get that excitement
Time speeds up like a flash of lightning
And you can't do anything...
except to keep it as long lasting memories
hoping it won't vanish into thin air.
We live in a world where people steal from each other
thinking they would get more
thinking maybe this would be enough
maybe this would be my everything
maybe this is the answer to all
But it just won't be enough
Because instead of creating,
people are taking.
Taking more than what they are able to make,
or keep...
We live in a world where words exist, but are not lived out
We promise, but never really keep them
Making promises that are kept Zero to None.
Does that make promises nonexistent?
Or just not practiced at all.
We say "I love you"
We know "I love you"
It's one of the most universal phrase that exists!
Yet most live their whole lives not knowing..
Not feeling..
Not completing...
Those very beautiful words.
Words that is enough to resurrect the dead
to give life to a dying individual.
But for me,
for what I've seen.
The greatest irony of it all...
Most walk through life like they have already died
The minute they were born.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 4:17 PM UTC
This is Seventeen.
Seventeen is loosely in the beginning of my life. Seventeen is realizing you’ve got a whole lot of life left in front of you. It is accepting that life is a page of writing that has been started, but is nowhere near finished, that a few doors have closed, but many more are still open, that some choices are irrevocable, but some may be changed yet, that there are still many what ifs that need to be figured out.
Seventeen is being caught in the limbo of being seen as an incompetent child and being forced to make adult decisions.
Seventeen is having the freedom to drive anywhere, but having a curfew to stay within.
Seventeen is losing many of the friends you used to have, but keeping the ones who are the closest to you, the ones who understand you the best, the ones you hope to have forever.
Seventeen is being able to stay up late, eating pizza in the park, and play on a playscape trying to be kids for just a little longer.
Seventeen is year long concert series and jamming out to your favorite bands covered in sweat.
Seventeen is dying your hair bright colors, much to your mother’s disparagement, and then changing it a week later.
Seventeen is being forced to choose what you want to do with the rest of your life when your favorite food changes on a daily basis and you have no idea how to function without your mom nagging you.
Seventeen is being excited, scared, sad, angry, hopeful, happy, jealous all at once and trying to deal with it, while still completing your homework on time.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 1:12 AM UTC
~
*Lost inside a labyrinth
Tight-lipped tinkerer
open-mouthed cynosure
Pressing matters completing their circuit
all things said, but not spoken
Osculated locution, succinct phrasing
released, but not heard
The human element imparting
seminal spark
—together felt and touched
A tingling syntax
owing to its art
becoming its nucleus*
~
Jun 3, 2021
Jun 3, 2021 at 4:10 PM UTC
Does time actually exist?
do we move forward
in a linear fashion,
or do we exist in a
evolutionary rotation.
does this reality have a
beginning and an end, or
is it in a constant state of flux.
it seems time is only relevant
to those that can perceive
its regular alterations.
yet perceptions can
be deceiving.
how can we truly
know anything if our
senses cannot be trusted.
regardless our limitations
we are moving forward,
mutations of energy
intimately woven
into the fabric
of spacetime.
We exist in a
great unknown,
a sea of mysteries
of few obvious truths.
do not fear the unknown,
learn to love the questions and
the answers may come in time.
whether we are moving forward,
or,
completing a cycle,
love the time you're given;
because all we have is now,
for tomorrow and yesterday exist
solely in the confines of our minds.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 4:30 AM UTC
We set out from our homes
With aspirations bright
A bag pack of skills
And a sceptre of perfection
A potion of blessings
To keep company
We are complete.
Through the low nights
And during the blazing noons,
Through the hard needles of showers,
Until we reach the land of flowers,
We unravel
Secrets of the deep and the dark
We gain and yet sometimes loose
We fathom
Through the layers wise
And make our axioms
On a quiet night however,
When we plunge in retrospection
A star shines bright
Connecting and completing the picture
We are but one glowing dot from the many
And the canvass completes
With the treasure of family lineage
All encompassing and strengthening
A synecdoche of life.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 7:44 AM UTC
Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind;
They have taught you to see
Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things,
A cunning algebra in the faces of men,
And God like geometry
Completing his circles, and working cleverly.
I'll kiss you over the eyes till I kiss you blind;
If I can—if any one could.
Then perhaps in the dark you'll have got what you want to find.
You've discovered so many bits, with your clever eyes,
And I'm a kaleidoscope
That you shake and shake, and yet it won't come to your mind.
Now stop carping at me.—But God, how I hate you!
Do you fear I shall swindle you?
Do you think if you take me as I am, that that will abate you
Somehow?—so sad, so intrinsic, so spiritual, yet so cautious, you
Must have me all in your will and your consciousness—
I hate you.
4k
Shot a rabbit two days ago, it was a good shot taken at distance from height. The rabbit died instantly, it had been digging holes in my lawns, it had to go.
I watched it die and I had cause to ponder the death from a religious angle, where believers say we go to another place when we die?
I know where this rabbit went, he went into my vegetable garden, buried deep with all the other varmints and critters that have crossed my path.
Over the years we, (my wife and I), have turned that patch of barren volcanic ash into a wondrous source of lettuce, potatoes, onions, rhubarb, tomatoes and leek..by adding the carbonaceous remnants of not only these creatures but of composted vegetation, seaweed and selected fertilizers. We also grow the most beautiful roses and deliahs and crysanthemums you will ever come across.
And do you know...in the dark of night other little rabbits and bugs and things come out and nibble those very creations...unaware that they are completing the circle of being.
This is the true spirit of creation, as I see it, where deep in the garden, the motes of nutrition transmogrify beneficially from one entity to another, eventually, for the common good of all.
This is the basis of my belief. Feet on the ground...
What is....most definately is!
M.
Taranaki NZ
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 3:32 PM UTC
All day panda girl reclines
Exercise she declines
Horsey girl will bring you luck ( U )
Her legs are strong and she drives a truck
Bonobo girl is worth consideration
Taking account of her reputation
Cat girl charms you with her eyes
She chings her claws and claims her prize
Crocodile girl will make you happy
Until she gets a bit too snappy
Dormouse girl may give a peep
Together you'll have a lovely sleep
Turtle girl will be just swell
If you coax her from her shell
Wallaby girl needs some space
To hop about from place to place
Tarantula girl gives you pangs
When she shows her fearsome fangs
Cougar woman's after me
Completing my fantasy
Menagerie
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 1:33 PM UTC
A puzzle and its tiny pieces
With little details and creases
Fitting perfectly to the right parts
Creating one whole piece of art
Puzzles can be quite a handful
It's fragile yet still beautiful
It's time consuming and requires attention
From beginning up till completion
Remember that each piece is vital
To lose one is highly crucial
No two pieces are the same
Each has its own part to claim
Emptiness of one piece filled by another
And careless mistakes that can make you start over
Once it's finished it can be put up for display
Or can be rebuilt again on another day
As I was completing my puzzle
I accidentally gave it a hard nuzzle
The pieces went flying all over
All that effort now just a blur
I started to pick up the pieces one by one
Wishing that they're still intact
Realizing that the puzzle is (still) undone
I hope I can get you, my missing piece back
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 10:13 AM UTC