"connectives" poems
Journeys rendered dateless,
Unending,
Wayward and extending out,
Round the compass points --
Dizzying aspiration to cease this race,
To slow my sprinting soul,
This pace splintering, in exhaustion.
Expiring breath of hope or of home
Evaporated in a distance
Vanishing and
Disconnected.
Drifting
On trackless tides, across
Labyrinthine depths,
Within the vast heart
Of the world
I cannot run from.
Yet, I moved to and between
The center or its peripherals, in
Singular or collectives,
Seeking pattern and
Drawing connectives –-
Brushing by and
Bustling among
People
Entranced In their own
Objectives.
I watched their movements
And their exchanges,
I heard their rituals and
Invocations.
In all these transitions,
They have no inkling
That their seemingly trite
Lives merely manifest
The epic motifs of the heavens!
Our imaginations mirror
The vitality of the gods!
We are as immortal as they!
Our simple, sensual stories
Are also enduring legends
Unfolding,
As our pages turn,
Our flags are unfurling!
Just as our fellow
Olympians of old
Engaged in a marathon of
Endeavor to heights
Unimagined!
From those mystic days
Since Orpheus’ ardent lyre
Sang notes
Of Nature’s divinity, Her
Eternal sweetness.
We need only sense that
It is in Nature’s essence
We are sharing.
With her, we are joined in
An undying marriage,
A unified pairing –
Our human heritage,
Our dignified bearing.
We share in that song,
We share in that sweetness,
We share in that race,
We share in Her immanence.
This journey is our own.
It goes on, unending!
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
Take your medication darling you are no better
than the lies you tell
and theres a light inside us all
that only dogs can smell
-- even they get their skulls smashed in
In a house of glass of rubies and jewles
in a world where the sun doesn't set
I am blinded by the harshness
of it
too much of a good thing
is never a good thing
haha
smell me now
smell me now
feel your
pulsating
-something else that taste like the memory of you
because once someone is gone
they've never existed
not even your corpse
looked like you
now you sway from clouds
from that same noose you built of maple wood
and Tony's scars--- honey
baby please
but sweetheart
you know I hate those names
sweet pea
Put a gun to my head and tell me im beautiful
I can breathe like you
I poked my finger into your unflinching eye
not a yelp in surprise, darling
people are lemon tainted goldfish
bitter and boring
(I should really try not to use the word and so much but sometimes things don't make sense- and we need connectives to explain them)
explain this.
But cat's know this of humans
they are born with the innate knowledge that
people are **** they will never love you for long
that human loyalty is fickle
impermanent
so they daze off indifferent
independent
while dogs will chase you around, crying
when you are gone
I am a dog
woof woof
bark for me baby
you little *****
on the floor
I am still trying to make your feet reach the floor
But the noose was wound too tightly around that lamp
you had pretty feet
I always looked at hands
If I could lay under you and catch your death as it fell
I would swallow it and leave it there to rot
where all the dead things are
I looked for a heartbeat but there was none
crystal windows reflected blue skin we were swimming under water
this aint no fairytale
May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 7:17 PM UTC
Foetal positioned in the womb of her ampersand,
a child to the connected string of unholy clauses,
always adding more and more and more
and,
and,
and,
stuck in the expectation to carry on,
creaked and crusting under the weight of the words
you promise you’d put back after you used them.
It’s getting hard to distinguish between rest and end.
ъ
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
The second I spoke
I heard myself through the look in your eyes
When did I become so distant
That I am now the self-centred attraction of your pupil’s reflection
No more do I see the interchanging colours
The door to your soul
Where I am
And you are
And we are
Through
Not so long ago you held me close
A comfort blanket for your woes
Though when did I become so rough
That you choose to wriggle and wrench from out my arms
No more mutual embrace
Body connectives
Now I am
And you are
And we are
Through
Speak to me in silence
When tone of death stare is enough to remind me of the jobs I should have done
When did we become so lazy
That we allowed spoken sentiment to dry up
Replaced by quips and sarcasm
Communicating only
That I am
And you are
And we are
Through
Yes I am through with second guessing emotion
And you are through with needy wanting
We are through with petty squabbling
We are through with dry expression
I am through with you
Just as you are through with me
However we, most importantly
Are finally through with ‘we’
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
At the intersection of a vague bravado and worried unformedness, I turn on the radio to hear sparkles of joy and humour, and a useful skepticism. On the road ahead of me, I see a sign labelled “Determination begins here.” I take the exit.
What am I to do without a harshly scrutinizing figurine on my shelf? Accept something that accepts me? And only loving critiques and informs me instead of violently projecting vitriolic love/hate attacks towards me? Oh no! I have lost everything.
But I have found, and am finding various other things. And on that exit, is more signs. And more sentences that begin with connectives. And so on.
Jan 10, 2022
Jan 10, 2022 at 7:14 PM UTC