"consolidating" poems
My ****** betrays me
It yearns to be touched, kissed, caressed
Drawn to the point of ecstasy
But perhaps lingering at the edge
To relish the pleasure for a moment
A moment
Longer
My ****** betrays me
Always wanting more
More
More
Never consolidating with the others parts
The brain
The heart
And we are not speaking in terms of anatomical correctness
No, but in terms of
Emotions
I said it
My ****** betrays me
My heart yearns
They argue
The heart wants intimacy, human touch, connection
The feeling of looking into the eyes of another and knowing
In that instant
That second
That moment
Everything is okay
And even if it isn’t
It doesn’t matter
Nothing will matter
Except
This
Moment
My ****** betrays me
My heart yearns
And they argue
But my brain
My logic
The voices within
They speak up, naturally of course
Please the ****** for the night
Intimacy
Ha
Intimacy
Have you looked inside
For your insides are as hideous as the out
Do not believe otherwise
My ****** betrays me
My heart yearns
They argue
But my brain
My brain does the most damage
It controls them all
The betrayal, the yearning
My brain betrays me
My brain wants what it cannot ever have
My brain desires things so far from its reach
My brain imagines the impossible
Love
My ****** betrays me
My heart yearns
They argue
Then my brain
My brain goes off
Thoughts passing by at the speed of light
Each one, so very important
My brain is in charge.
It supplies the salty wetness that falls from my eyes
The emptiness I feel within
My ****** betrays me
My heart yearns
They argue
But my brain
My brain destroys all
My brain burns the cities down
The dreams
Dashed against the rocks
My desires
Meaninglessly quenched
My emptiness
Forever there
My brain betrays me
My brain yearns
And within, is an argument
Within
Within is the problem
No one will ever know, So fear not
Let the brain betray
Let it yearn
For the mouth
Perhaps, that is who really is in charge
The mouth shall not betray
The eyes may
The eyes do
But who catches them long enough to see inside?
No one has, No one will
My brain betrays me
My brain yearns
An argument, within
But my mouth
Shall
Never
Betray
Me
It shall remain closed
Sealed tight
Strongest of clay bricks
Guarding my secrets
Guarding what lies within
The confines of my soul
Emotions
Emotions betray me
Emotions yearn
Emotions cause me to argue within
But my mouth
My
Mouth
Shall
Remain
Loyal
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 11:03 PM UTC
Bloated solar systems draw sharp ships aloft its great celestial sea. I am battered and broken by the shift the storm sends my body adrift. But I seek to float and be rebuilt by constellations consolidating soulful songs so sight full that a bright star might sink into my orbit and maybe I could catch some light and absorb it.
Oct 13, 2021
Oct 13, 2021 at 7:11 PM UTC
A fire set between Lovers, smoldering
Incinerating a hole through their pure
Intentions juxtaposed to coveting
Above all else: More
Not a solitude of atrophy sprouting
In the cracks, but a flowering of beauty
in this segmented, quartered tissue.
The glued on perfection of self control: Dissolved
Lust for this temple to crumble and
Reunite, lessen this Schism of
Lovers betrayed by Lovers
Strengthen our bonds: Repair
The poetry of this divide, ineffable
Solace flooding the fields and drowning
Compassion in silence, untold
Stories of the Abyss: Secrets
Flecks of gold in blue, rarity defined
By the lies between Lovers
Thoughts of Amber, silica resin
Trapping, binding the Chasm: Imprison
Imperial, consolidating facts surfacing
From overturned, plowed dirt
Covering Lovers graves, coffins
of sleeping Emotion: Un-Waking
Life from Lovers veins, to
Lovers heart.
Schism.
Divide.
It will forever separate us, Love.
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 10:34 AM UTC
*you know, i can **** before i become homeless; yes? ok... cheerio.*
when i experience no intelligence
after being educated, it's
hardly an expectation to
experience any after... desirably hoped for, that
which offers up the antonymous by-product that's
despaired after so freely, and all those more profitable affairs
of a literate nature to engage with: to be
enslaved likewise missing; oh the gravity
as nothing falling, the tears on my cheeks
with vide cor meum, ah, but you see,
i can stomach a cage and being caged,
should i be forced into a freedom that's
only homelessness.
oh so many insignias of pause that were never
given a mathematical rubric of allowed deciphering!
that grand pause of arithmetic in the undecided
length of pause between (,) (.) (;) and that italicised
pause of (:) readying (a) list(s) of emphasis; let alone
the hyphenation of all the lost emphasises of Pompeii
(embark tongue tied into the grapheme æ);
or embark asking between the threes that are
direct and indirect articulation of plurality,
given then the anti of pluralism is god, and that's neither
direct or indirect, consolidating the direct as prayer
and the indirect as atheism.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
Slivers of hope remained.
Though scarce, it was enough to push on.
Then
The Call.
Hushed movements
The glimmer of faith,
A diminishing wick,
Cruelly snuffed out by the pinch of confirmation.
The waiting.
The weight of the words
A peripheral flash
Preceding a perpetual storm.
Lamenting
Sorrowful
Groans
Muffled by cupped and shaking hands.
Bowed heads and silence.
Fallen tears of volunteers.
Distorted and stricken faces
Consolidating.
Searching for other faces
Wishing they were home.
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
Guardings my very motions
Securing my very journeys
Guiding my very act
Consolidating my very allegiance
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
There is still a magic of the rituals, especially when we’re vibing together, stimulating an extreme climate of moods and intense thoughts, that I sweat out blood, consolidating the past to my parent of my future, Lucifer for I’ve meet you before death, through lalent needling threads dusting aura in a silhouette of temptation that backs itself up in forms out reality fulfilling meaning. For the mysteries of mysticism isn’t replaced, just enhances, at least now I have forever to understand, while I’m formed into a symbol of light, where illumination is and I praise in the darkness. The Holy war provides more complex, while it’s veil is simple. People cannot win the world by using the world to fight for their purpose for society in false revolutions. Humanity isn’t worth fearing. I’ve peaked beyond the curtain and saw only horror on both sides of good and evil. It’s frightening to see what people do for their side and personal success. Do not feed into their fear. You have mind, use it, live your life, before they take your life, there is a lot more enlightenment within yourself. As for me siding with Lucifer, for he hates all religion, ideology and culture, uplifting individuality to allow them to master of their own realm.
(please checkout current publications on Amazon. Just search Darcy Prince for titles.)
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 8:10 PM UTC
A brief gander out of the window sills
The dim candlelight flickers ever so vividly and lingers through
The fire awakens and its children, embers of the future withdraw
They take off and flow with the midwinter breeze
Amongst the ample tracts of land, amongst the foggy scenery of ice and snow
The amber extract of lightwaves pierce through the nocturnal blanket
The lilac sky merging with the cinnabar, umber and indigo
The soldiers, clad as such, marching through the grassland
And thus spoke the soldiers
Embedded in the gloom, marching through the dusty carpet
Consolidating rigid blocks amass
Caressing the cold, serene scenery in all its idyll
The sparkles dwindle at dusk
A solemn encounter between life and death - the soldiers collect them all
Many sparkles accumulate and dissipate when heaven takes in their children
Flourishing in tufts that lit the charcoal sky, a glistening canvas
I found myself amidst the elation, as I gazed amongst the starry abyss
The future stared back and smiled as I found myself frozen in time
The timeless idyll is ever so frightful, but a bliss as it fills my locket
Moonlight pass, timescape halts, landscape falls, shadows conquer
Time is ever so vague when the silver arises
The mirror of the soul, the children of the dim candlelights
They flicker ever so lively into eternity
They flicker and return home.
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 6:38 PM UTC
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Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 3:51 AM UTC
Intellect sores, bountifully, higher then God
Nefariously bottomless, I fall then Hell
Eventfully, ill angels impel my ascend to Heaven
Fiendish demons walk me back
As I depress, I depress beyond saving
As I advance, I advance beyond saving
The Devil, nor God can believe what I've become
I can't escape this
I am fastened in this blending line
And in between the insidious two, I am willingly blind
Hell and Heaven are consolidating
If the ill angels in Heaven
Are like the demons too
Heaven is the worst of the two
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
......
As I thing of you I think of the waste of years
I spent them devoting my life to you
Consolidating my fears and secrets into a bottle for you to keep
Gently molding it from the engraving of your hands
......
......
That were in mine day in and day out
Every glorious minute
So that it'd fit perfectly in your hands
For you to hide them
......
......
Not from everyone else
But from the monster I call myself
......
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
*well, death isn't going anywhere, it's there, if you think talking about it is taboo, censoring it is normal, trying to rationalise death with thoughts of suicide is morbid, you're really on your way to a neo-stalin system of censorship... what if thinking about suicide is a coping mechanism of having to rationalise death per se, to rationalise mortality... who are these secular gods hiding behind curtains of theory?! who are they? what if thinking about suicide is thinking about death itself? where is this Stalin of capitalism?! where is he?! i need a word with him - because if i can't have the freedom of thought i have no extending freedoms to participate in life - a cog in a clogged up mechanism... but let's not get all hot and bothered and frantic... no, seriously, where's this shady Stalin who doesn't have a podium but a puppet theatre? i know, words like capitalism are grandiose, almost cryptically absurd, as is the word bureaucracy... too many people depend on it... but the french absurd philosophers were given the freedom to wonder about suicide as a way of consolidating mortality... we're not immortals... why aren't the english children given that freedom of such bewilderment, instead reduced to self-harm as a way to paradoxically alleviate the contemplation of mortality, with the thought of suicide as a coping mechanism of the ****** inescapable fact?! hide the cemeteries and i'll agree.*
a funny article in all honesty,
entitled: stressed, depressed,
lonely and anxious. is your teenager ok?
i remember when i was one,
yeah, i have a life,
a bottle of whiskey to finish,
see you 70cl under the sea
of what used to be the shoreline
or a table - you can never take a medium
too seriously, i mean, what painter
would take a blank white canvas seriously?
if he did, he wouldn't have painted on it,
but writing to get +1 thousand
hits of readership? what a weird mathematical
need of voyeurism, you see no **** no ***
no shower scene... you're just addicted to
numbers, and they're not even your savings
increasing for a place in a care home...
oh pooh pooh a tear... fragile souls of
passing on resentment... hey! i'm in the queue
why you barging in? i only have
a can of sardines and a bun to buy...
you have a full trolley of goods for
a family the size of Lichtenstein!
but i get it... europe's disneyland is switzerland,
all the death rides you can imagine,
esp. with an imperial russia banknote with
tsar nicholas ii on it, i'd get a pass on every ride!
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 10:18 PM UTC
To winter from autumn seems gradual
the colder days seem never to come
then suddenly
Evenings dark and misty, mornings grey
Daytime unpredictable as moods
Changing the way I feel about the season
Can be down to the moment
As the weather is pocketed in sealed containers
waiting for nature to unwrap
Crisp leaves that grow slippery and brown
as they become a slight carpeting on the dampness
Stones of summer now covered in brown rain
their reflective paths a dismal slide, waiting
for your forceful heel to push against the tide
Steaming car exhausts hang in the air
The drivers clothed in coloured warmth
avoiding the stupid local cold
Inside the cabins the impossible air grates
through the vents and produces unnatural
heat as respectful workers chug their way onward
The uncertain and limbo times of autumn's life
is it just a precurser to the false star of Christmas
A painful unnecessary period of man's making
For what? A need to have time feeling justified
Of wasted resource and overfeeding.
How desperate this must sound to our ancestors
The souls that made us what we are.
Who had precious few pleasures. How much
would they appreciate our behaviour
At this time of fallow and rest. Conserving,
containing, consolidating our harvest
Saving our gain from mother earth
To keep our winter wholesome and honest.
No need to look far for goodness, the days
are all exquisite, the elements bring us
back to our roots and encourage our piety, for
each and everyone I ask for moderation,
careful spending and realisation that the
moving of warm, to cool, to cold is a message of love
from our earth. Not a reason to spend
A reason to exploit or ignore the wonderful gift
we are sent at Yule, the chance to dwell
and to mull over the year and be thankful
For we are the keepers of the earth
an endowment of faith and love for all
Be still and feel the chill air as it encompasses
our body but most of all enjoy the peace
As earth sleeps
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 2:24 PM UTC
Foudroyant
To discover a small love, that's oscillating
Like her prismatic mottled body briskly consolidating
Twisting around the hopeless serpentine ivy
In a bed of our own wanderlust and negative reality
Desire promptly converts to favourable vernations
Enough to fulfill the automagical promise of her lack of clothes
Here I, inside the windowsill sitting in the silence I loathe
Her ******* the curtain partly drawn, has thrown a deep shadow
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 11:41 PM UTC
Nausea comes
never mind the robotics
Outdated and primitive
something out of an old horror show
Black and white
with pale mustache movements
Flicker for some change
silence in the monopoly
Orange blue skies in the forecast
radio towers shadow homes
Cheap but unstable
Swerve for the limo
with it's rented passenger
Make room for concrete
with it's finalized oozing
Conclusions in literal stone
By all means
Grow grass before you build
Let the time be captured before creation
Let the giants stretch one last time
Before they pull down the clouds for warmth
Before they make rain for thirst
Before they break stars for spite
Manmade for a time
they now mutiny against the gods
What gods nobody asks?
We eat nuclear dinners
while television glow illuminates
Slack jaw chewing
The bits we miss fall down
Nutrition for one hundred hungry orphans
Feel the warmth of giving
We donate at the register because we want salvation
But we don't share the cheeto with the bag lady downtown
Broken stair case
denial
Gray concrete
old and cracked
Message by way of cup and string
a voice from the past
Faded but painful
rusted yet lovely
Said she drank herself to death
sent a selfi from heaven
Saying she was right and I am doomed
We make lust but call it love
animals in denial
Chemical fueled collisions
and innocents is lost
Broken home renewal
pass the generation general
This war needs motivation
this money needs consolidating
These masses need thinning
nobody makes it to the bottom
We all look down hoping for a clue
But these gods prove elusive
Nothing manmade in the organic
Nothing humble in the insane
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
My thoughts are coalescing in a web of frustration,
I linger on the walls that are as blank as my memories
of a happier time. I write in tipp-ex, white washing the
words wrote in red pen that bled from my finger-tips.
Syllables verse so much when adhering with word and
reflections of who we are. But mine are shallow puddles
of nothingness that are only filled with tears,
consolidating my hollowness crumbling within my tears.
Collect the words like breadcrumbs, they weren't fresh but slightly
past a sell by date of needed listening. I've died inside so many
times to be resurrected each morning devours me a little bit more,
the pills fall like raindrops in the puddle of my mind.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 4:57 PM UTC
we write about reading, what a horrid act, what a great act of pacifism to not need to cite the events of the Trojan War like Homer.
i think the appreciation and attachment
to nietzsche these days
is because he didn't bother to cite
america: to have simply
cited the advancements of america
and the degradation of europe,
if only... machine-gunning out maxims
is so ****** boring, no wonder
he only felt inclined to cite only
one of his works as a consolidating perfume
of pride (that's in ecce ****
i read thus spoke zarathrusta
in one night... few books give you
the capacity to balance such an act.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 8:47 AM UTC
What time are you thinking?
A time? Is that where it all starts? I’ll go with; midday. Does that work for you?
IT ALWAYS WORKS
Just as pliant as his physical form; bending in all directions; jumping from stair to star; his studies, relationship with time; offered the same natural ease.
He wanted to study equanimity in a way that hadn’t been brought into the scientific world; just yet. The physical structures were worked through BY his hands and mind. Why would this be any different?
Complexity
Chemical
Physiological
Developmental
Evolutionary
Consolidating abstractions into bite sized bits. We took the ocean together in our palms.
HE GAVE IT AWAY TO EVERYONE HE MET
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 12:55 PM UTC