"constructional" poems
Pain is inevitable,
Suffering is optional.
The crossroads of success,
Is always constructional.
If we could become tress,
Solid and stoic, deep rooted
In Mother Earth's flesh;
We could stand firm
Through the tempest, unswayed.
But we are only humans.
Covered in darkness.
Hiding behind our fears,
Timidly withdrawing from
The ominous tempest.
So, embrace the fury,
The daunting gales that
Once were scary.
After all, you can't
Stop the waves,
But you can learn to surf.
And even if you sank,
Deeper into the void,
At least you'll drown
Knowing there was
Beauty In The Struggle.
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
awas amidst
the bits and bobs of my pseudo-sleep,
check my watch oft habitually,
understand
that the precisive time is not
what I seek,
no,
what I desire is reassurance of
some sort, that time is present,
that it is
a measurable actuality in,
my about,
a breathable actuality
woven into my
Body’s Constructional
Constitutional Cconsciousness
that time is there, here,
for it is rhe
wondrous of all wonder,
it is a
present of, from,
and,
is love itself,
love is time…
(think on it)
it is all and only
butpossibility,
the future in
slow mo
is both
realizable & visible ,
even some part knowable;
its somes & sums,
as we daily
practice realizing it,
as if
time is a
smuggler of snuggles,
comforting but not
for too long
like
a new lover’s
exploratory
beginning beguiling explanations
reforming our ardor
into
viability
or
a glove
asking us each:
slow s l i d e
your hand inside,
then,
newly commence
waving yours,
airy all about
conducting a new self
into your
precious moment of precarious
existence,
that we dare not waste!
so:
write and right
are no accident,
but purposed
equals,
friends,
brothers and sisters,
one and both
coexisting
at
in
the same time…
Sep 17, 2024
Sep 17, 2024 at 7:36 AM UTC
It is all there in an envelope
The ****** ink
That defeated the acting demons
Or conserved the acting angels
A play in a theatre that lit up the night sky
Performed by the stars
That form constructional figures
of my future
I ponder
And ask myself the same questions
That now outstretch the oceans
Yet burry themselves beneath
Like anchors
I need answers
To keep me sain.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 11:10 AM UTC
if my body were a house,
the walls would be falling a part.
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 11:19 PM UTC