"complexly" poems
who am i?
what am i?
is my identity determined by my actions?
so that makes me a girl who'd rather write than live
and takes in life about as well as a siv
but is that all i am?
because that excludes the laughter
the offkey singing
the mediocre horn playing
and my lack of praying
or is the only me who matters
the one who is seen
through a million other eyeballs?
she says i'm a talent, a bottomless pit
a good friend, one you'd want
a girl obsessed with times new roman font
someone who's all the best parts of salty and sweet
but tell me, if that's the truth
then how come my phone isn't blowing up with calls?
am i little else than the me in the mirror?
two little tired chocolate truffles
unruly dark hair
skin that doesn't know what to be
all contained underneath a makeup mask
it's difficult to put a label on a person
while also taking time to imagine them complexly
to call me just one name ignores the best and the worst
the person in love with language
also uses it as a weapon to attack
the girl with a chip on her shoulder
never wants to look back
inside of me is a multitude of ladies
pretty preppy ladies
singing show girls
nifty nerd chicks
to choose one and ignore the rest would be a sham
so maybe i don't know who i am
and maybe that's okay
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 7:25 PM UTC
I wrote this to say "I'm sorry"
But some how I want these lines to serve as more than the average apology
I want you to acknowledge me
surface my intentions beyond the 2D
Dimension our eyes see.
This situation calls for 3D glasses in order for you to fully understand a lost avatar,
No blue creator on Flat screens,
Just someone as complexly simple like me.
Adjust screen.
Magnify my heart so you can see that it's impossible for it to bump
without skipping beat.
Intimidated, I was,
The thought of me without you
was something like Pinky's ideas with no Brain
Things just were completely insane.
Personality, biopolar
for when your presence wasn't near I became a individual even I fear.
Like my body is here but my habits are not me.
Some sort of split personality
Name her for this ****** expression isn't one I recognize
This new form of madness has hypnotized me.
I can't believe how this new predator only shows when you are away
As if when you are close your voice tames the beast.
Never leave me for if you do I wont be able to behave
I apologize for this my temper that I can not contain.
Oct 13, 2010
Oct 13, 2010 at 9:53 PM UTC
I've come to realize the fragility of life itself as of late; a delicate dance of psychological and physiological elements, converging in the process of sustaining a human life.
These components become so complexly intertwined; wrapping themselves around each other whilst expanding and contracting.
My biological systems may keep humming along, subconsciously—yet it is in my mental environment that I choose to allow them to continue. A fascinating concept.
Neurons fire in my brain, telling my arm to extend itself outwards in front of me as if to point at something interesting. More signals are sent, instructing my arm to bend at the elbow; I am now staring at the palm of my hand that rests a few inches from my face.
Neurons continue to spark and my hand slowly twists for me to examine its backside, and then it returns to its original position. My eyes are entranced as they explore the landscape of my palm; its creases and folds resemble a map of sorts.
Fingers methodically open and close—fist, open palm, fist, open palm. My grey matter is aglow as a colorful lighting storm of activity pulses throughout.
Eyes close for a moment.
Thoughts.
Memories.
Thoughts.
They open up again to glare at this dead hand. That’s the fascinating part, the fact that the very signals that are sent to trigger these hand movements—or to trigger my lips to form a pucker or toes to tap, tap, tap to a beat—can also instruct those fleshy appendages to move in such a way to extinguish my own life.
No safeguards? No life-preserving big red button that my subconscious can press in order to save itself?
Nope.
A choice.
A dance.
And I’ve decided tonight…I’m staying alive.
Because somewhere buried deep in my psyche is a little wrinkled-up piece of notepaper with the following words scribbled upon it:
“The sunrise is just over that hill. The worst is over.”
Aug 22, 2022
Aug 22, 2022 at 12:31 PM UTC
(If you knew this place as I know it)
I am not just me. I have never been just me. I am a patchwork of everything that has been done to me, and that has nothing to do with being just. I am not perfect because I have never experienced perfection, my life has never been picked through for the best footage. I’m bearing the weight of the dailies, every last one of them.
I am not a story. My body is not made of letters, no meticulous thought has gone into me, I have not been drafted and re-drafted until there are no spelling errors in my bones. That does not mean I cannot create stories. I may not be made of the things I write, but the pieces of the world around me are enough that I can give a little of myself to many while still being whole.
If you knew myself as I know me, you would hate it, too much, too little, unevenly and over-dramatically. I don’t know myself at all and too well, all at once.
If you knew this world as I know it, you would love it. Love it and hate it, hate it because it’s going and love it because you’re going with it. I will keep telling myself that different does not mean good or bad, but I’ll still miss picking a crimson leaf out of a stream of sunlight in the middle of snowy fall.
You would miss it. You would miss sleeping. You would miss not being scared. You would miss being able to love everyone. You would miss thinking that everyone was willing to love you. You would miss your friends being free and knowing what you wanted for Christmas and not worrying about being afraid to look in the mirror.
You would miss six feet of snow in November.
And you would love it. You would love knowing more, knowing better, knowing more clearly, more complexly, and more meaningfully. You would love knowing that spellcheck and calculators that do long division exist. You would love re-learning how to imagine the world, to question everything, to accept and believe, to understand a life that is not your own.
I am not just me. I have never been just me. I am not lonely. I am not alone.
(I'm sorry if I sometimes need reminding).
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
Wrapped Around My Heart
Memories Of You Hold Tighter Than A Mothers Grip
I Long For Your Presence
Meer Dialogue Cripples My Heart
Rub My Mystical Bottle And These Shall Be My Wishes
To Stare Into Your Eyes Would Be My First
To Hold You Firm My Second
To Feel Our Hearts And Souls Tied Together For Eternity - My Last.
So Close But Complexly Intangible
The Breath To My Spark When You Pass
When That Sly Witty Remark Slaps My Face I Cant Help But To Laugh
Yin To My Yang
Sunrise To My Earth
Without You I Am Simply A Fraction Of My True Self
Your Touch Like A Kiss From The Sun
Change For You Is Change For The Better
My Life Without You Will Mean Nothing But Wasted Breath
Destiny Shall Be The Link To Join Us Again
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 9:42 PM UTC
Ramshackled dream
Held together with glue and string
And prayers
Floating as a feather
Yet easily the heaviest of things
What tapestries you inspire
Yet not strong enough the exit my mind
Keeping you hidden
Incubating long term
Until you’re almost over cooked
Make I take a glimpse of you
Never to touch, in fear of the break
Complexly understated
A warming flame
Flickering in this empty cold world
Ramshackled dream
Pretty to most, breathtaking to me
Sitting ever fervent
Waiting to shine
Wait to breathe the air
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 8:08 AM UTC
We are more
Than the clothes that we wear
Than the skin around our bones
Than the thoughts in our heads
We are souls
Beings with light and darkness
Beings with heart and mind
Beings with complexities in all aspects
We are human
We bleed, we cry, we suffer
We heal, we laugh, we learn
We grow and change
We are
Simply and complexly
What we are
- Jay M
July 18th, 2021
Jul 18, 2021
Jul 18, 2021 at 3:19 AM UTC
Im guarded
And disrobed
Being naked
Doesn't mean I'm free
I'm shattered
And complexly put together
Glued piece by piece
Whats it like to feel
To know other emotions
Than pain
Whats it like to be dry
As it's pouring rain
While love is my neighbor
Hate is my bestfriend
Im guarded
And disrobed
Because of him
Self respect..?
Ive lost it all
Although i stand a giant
I seem to feel so small
Continuously pushed
Out of my comfort zone
How am i suppose to believe in love
When I have no one to call my own
Murray
Aug 16, 2012
Aug 16, 2012 at 12:09 AM UTC
the bird chirps, flapping
its wings to soar.
it's sole purpose living
each day, breathing and
eating for survival.
the bird lives simply.
the trees stand tall
as roots dig deeper,
grounded. leaves appear
in cycles contributing to the
intake and release of nourishment.
the tree lives simply.
the human wakes with many
contemplations, desires, goals.
numerous expectations all
constructed from illusions.
a definitive role continuously changing.
the human lives complexly.
What changed?
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 9:49 AM UTC
I am my parents’ worst nightmare and a blessing in disguise. My father says I am exercise for his mind. I love verbal defense. I love creating backstories and plucking reasoning out of thin air like a magician who pulls rabbits out of his hat. Verbal defense is an art, you see. It consists of passionate testimonials, backed by evidence, and so many ******* loopholes. I have mastered this art down to a T.
I ask that you imagine me complexly. I hate that you think you know me based off of a few things you’ve seen. No two people ever view the same thing. I believe you don’t know me. You can pinpoint a couple of my likes, my dislikes, but you don’t know the songs I sing when I’m alone. They’re not all sad, you know. But sometimes they are. You don’t know why or what or how. You don’t know that my favorite things are too far away from my grasp and they’re always so ******* hard to find yet I keep looking.
Imagine me complexly and maybe you’ll see something new. I know what it’s like to look at the world through scratched lenses. I know that after a while, you get a headache from trying to overcorrect what you’re seeing. So take the ******* scratched rose tinted glasses off. **** will be blurry but at least it’ll be as raw as you can stand, take a look, see here this is my being.
People used to tell me I should be a lawyer but that would take the joy out of arguing. Me? I want to fix broken things. I’m attracted to brokenness like a moth is to the buzz of a dying fluorescent streetlight. Isn’t that funny? I find it hilarious, that I think I can fix, heal and soothe the wounds of a broken world. I must be truly crazy if I think I can patch up some of the world’s lacerations. Maybe one day, when you imagine me complexly, we can talk about it. I’ll try my damnedest to not to try and fix you, because I’d be a flaming liar if I didn’t think you weren’t broken. So imagine me complexly. I'll wait, don't worry. Take all the time you need. Imagine me complexly.
Imagine me complexly.
-z.z
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC
All this war and yet, there is nothing I would rather be.
I have grown to appreciate,
as a nonpartisan–
a silent sommelier–
the subtle earthy notes of irony with which
my deflated ego scolds my hollow spine.
I know my own hypocrisy, my instability, my naivete.
I have been raised in the midst of myself–
I carved and nailed these philosophies together to make trellises
around which my elastic grapevine limbs have learned
to wrap and coil and hoist themselves toward the sun.
I have built myself,
and I, alone, tend to my vineyard.
There are distortions in these wooden lattices,
and there are seasons when the grapes grow sour
or the vines do not flower
at all,
but the crop is resilient and the wood does not break,
and there is enough sunshine here
in the summertime to sustain
and to yield something complexly beautiful because it has been weak,
and it has known the cold.
I have built myself,
and I, alone, tend to my vineyard.
There are plots of land far more fertile than this one,
foundational structures far sturdier and more symmetrical,
grapes far sweeter and more robust of flavor,
but there is no wine I would rather have flood my veins;
there is nothing I would rather be.
Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 1:24 AM UTC
if a butterfly can cause a hurricane, it explains you.
explains the effortless way you threw my life around our heads and hearts and heels in your careless breeze
explains the gentle flutter of your eye lashes when you wake me
explains the butterflies in my stomach every second with you and the butterflies in my mind when I think of you
explains the disaster left after you complexly simple love
Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
My forest
written December 28th, 2020
My forest is the 2 trees
outside my front window
the overstory of my forest
is a prickly ball tree
research says
it is a chestnut or sweetgum tree
the overstory is tall and hearty
giving generous shade in the summer
and raining prickly *****
on the yard in the fall
the understory of my forest
is a dogwood
that blooms gloriously each spring
as it reaches from under the prickly ball tree
for the sun it's greedy sibling hogs
there are forests (and poems)
much more expansive than mine
built more complexly
more often talked about
photographed, written about
but this little 2 tree forest
has been my company
for 20 years now
they are my trees (and my words)
and they are precious to me.
Dec 28, 2020
Dec 28, 2020 at 5:39 AM UTC
I've had my entire being challenged by the fires of life.
And though I have emerged, I have been forever changed.
There were things I didnt understand about you,
or appreciate enough about you.
But I can now.
And I love you more than anyone else in the world.
Not just the love of lust or adoration,
but truly, deeply and complexly.
The kind that has been obtained through pleasure, and pain.
On pins and needles
My heart yearns for your return.
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 4:55 PM UTC
•••
I don’t even have the words to write to tell you just how deeply complexly fully and most beautiful this art which we have created together with our hearts and our bodies and minds and soft edges and hard curves and deep gazes and silly hurts and lovely little laughters and ugly words and tears of all spectrums and hugs that were and are and always will be where I belong is in your very arms with my hands holding your face and your arms laced around my waist and foreheads touching and noses so gently gracing and kisses that are too good to exist and whispered words that make time stop and happy sweet tears fall that taste like the ocean and sunshine and love and time gone by and I just purely and completely will never be able to write anything even sort of close to those moments where I fall deeper in love with you but.
I will spend my whole life trying to
•••
May 1, 2022
May 1, 2022 at 6:00 PM UTC
A competition of realities. Every narrative a life. Choose.
You tells yer story and you takes yer chance. Gambol.
No one knows the truth but you and you don't either.
Truth as Hydra. Lop off them heads to no avail.
Grey cat on bookcase. truth. Pain of broken heart. truth.
First morning cigarette. truth. Collapse into ****** truth.
Millions of truths conspire to create The Truth.
We are fabrics woven of infinite strings
Complexly simple in this world of things.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 7:47 AM UTC
I saw a young man working in a Kroger a few a-little-while's ago.
He was putting bananas in the designated banana display,
and as I passed he smiled to me,
In such a kind, purely, beautifully,
human
manner. And I smiled back,
as one does,
matching his sincerity I hoped, or what I perceived as sincerity
and anyway he spoke.
Saying hello and inquiring if I was well and I responded that I was and returned the question.
To which he looks around at his current state; being surrounded by a staggering amount of bananas and shrugs and says "having a blast". Which I find humorous,
as one does.
I laugh and he laughs and I continue shopping. I weave through the isles leisurely because it's past 11pm in a small town Kroger and I wasn't quite ready to leave for whatever reason.
And
I see the pleasant blonde banana Kroger worker get up and proceed to dance to 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot" in a tall uncoordinated jig, singing into a banana which sounds too story-book to be true but alas.
And
I remember tilting my head involuntarily as a look of curious fondness swept my face.
And
and I love human moments like this because they're still and unchangingly pleasant, full of what if scenarios for late night can't-sleep thinking.
I left.
Well around Easter time,
or
well actually precisely on Easter, in the afternoon time I stand checking out my groceries in the self-scanner
as one does
and I see this fascinating young man
yet again,
this time clad in a bunny ears headband, which I find endearing. And I stare a little longer than I probably should have, more than likely wearing a complexly fond expression
yet again.
He meets my dreamy gaze and
surprisingly hold the eye contact for a moment longer than I would normally grant strangers. As we were on our way out he said goodbye to my group.
And, once again, I left.
Left wondering what would have happened if I went up to bunny banana boy and exchanged pleasantries and names
Left wondering if the goodbye was directed to me or everyone
Left wondering if I should shop at Kroger more.
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 10:13 PM UTC
Kiss of life?
More like lips I've never touched because I had about as much Appeal as a rotten banana during my formative years
No tears now cause that was ages ago and as time goes on unstoppable like an Amtrak train
I'll maintain something close to esteem of myself while not holding too much for anyone else
What else can I write complexly laid rhymes about besides lack of esteem and crippling self doubt like Nathan Peterman after 2 pick 6's during another buffalo Bill's rout.
Kiss of life?
What's a kiss even like?
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 6:19 PM UTC
Allegorically reminisce hoping that which is precious still is
Holding tightly to levitating memories beyond constant bliss
How does grey matter of such complexly infinite design
Manifesting utter happiness to guttural sadness at one time
Causing souls to teeter a precipice of their sanity's destruction
While many souls live a blessed life of nothing but love and fun
Where does that vital chemistry strike such a mortal divide
From melancholy breeze to an explosive raging tide
Sensation like riding ever-turbulent oceans with no keel
Listless souls are trapped in tug-a-war of how to feel
Looking far and wide for a proper life course correction
Hoping some day the endless voyage can finally be done
Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 2:11 PM UTC
Your mouth pressed against mine.
Our bodys complexly intertwined
As our hands scarcely explore the uncharted territory of each other
The ****** desire filling one anothers eyes
As we slowly start losing clothing,
And the rest of the world completely fades away,
With only each other on our minds.
My breathing becomes heavier
I can feel your heart beat against my bare skin,
It's fluttering just as fast as mine.
As we slowly become one.
Like puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 4:08 AM UTC
I
Don’t
Want to
But I miss you
I miss you simply
And I miss you complexly
I shouldn’t
I have no right
You can not be mine to miss
I know this
I KNOW THIS
Each moment was stolen
I knew I couldn’t keep them
It just wasn’t supposed to hurt so much
To give them back
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 4:44 PM UTC