"counteracting" poems
Some days before christmas
I gave you my trust like an early gift
warm hands counteracting the clouds
placed in front of my sun
lulled by your attention
fingers intertwined
your body against mine
gifting me warmth
minutes later being blown away
on dark clouds controlled by trust issues
weeping above us like a cold storm
Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 4:59 PM UTC
My mind became a castle in the sky
Musing together events I know could never happen
Afloat in the ocean
A body of a much bigger form than my own
That of which I am not accustomed to coping against.
But, I manage
And I lay there, with no worry in the world
Of who I may be
Or who I may not
What I can solidly remember
And the pain I thought I forgot
The crisp severity of the ocean on the outers of my skin
A rivalry counteracting the heat my anger is ceaselessly producing
An effortless breath of cold air
And no endurance needed to fight against the current
My head being totally consumed by waves, in intervals
But enough to refresh my inner cognition.
One deep inhale and I can feel you,
Just before I start to slowly fade under
And when I think this can't get any better,
I finally hear it; the thunder.
It's loud, and I've been waiting, and I am scared
But not worried enough to budge
The storm is growing strong above my physical, still body
And with the moving body below me that I want to love so much.
What I can't grasp fully, though, is the way I will not move
I know I am terrified of the consequences,
I'm already worrying
As I have been, this entire time
Time figures out that it's not my body that refuses to move
It is manipulated by my mind.
I am content.
As long as I stay in this opposing body
It reminds me of all of the things I do not have
Rather than the things I do and can't accept.
I am saddened, that my breaths were not voluntary
They were forced by the love I can not feel.
I know it's there, I know it's real.
Reminded by this ocean,
I am very much alive.
And although, inside, I may be broken and numb.
Sometimes, I can be fine.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 8:17 PM UTC
Feet. Gnarled, scabbed and bent at the bone. Where‘s the beauty? I look at my toenails, my arms around my knees, as tears roll down and hit the sidewalk. The splash is exciting, and a thousand images come to mind.
I stand as I take in everything around me, savoring each breath, watching the colors enter my mouth.
The wind. It’s colorful here. Rolling rainbows of blues and greens and reds caress the buildings around me. It’s astounding when it blows.
Last week, the sun exploded into a thousand little ***** of light and they float around me now, serene and inert. Only when I walk do those in my path slowly twirl out of my way.
Slowly, slowly. As if they are moving through gelatin, as if they are slightly begrudged that I‘m counteracting their inertia.
I know that this is beauty. It is beauty that is this place. I would give up every element comprising my being to have this beauty with me when I leave, but I know I can’t overstay my welcome.
I place my foot onto a step behind me and I walk up. There is a balcony above me where I bring my camera. I sit on this ledge and I let my feet hang over and I try to capture everything this beauty is.
But it can’t be done. I have tried so many times to take this place, to put it in my pocket. But it can’t be done. No matter how many times I try, or how many ways I turn my camera, I can’t capture it.
I set the camera down after a couple minutes and I look to my left. A little ball of sun is floating beside my head. I stick a finger out to poke it and, as if by a magnetic field, it slowly pushes itself back when I am but a mere inch away. I try again, and fail. I put both hands out, cupping, as if to net it. I miss, and we play this game for a while.
But the suspense goes nowhere, and the ball of sun finally anticlimactically slips a few feet away. Disappointed, I stand up and walk slowly down the steps, my hand on the edge of the wall next to me.
The suns begin to lose their brightness, and I know it is time for me to go. I’m almost sad, knowing that I won’t see beauty like this until the next time I am able to return here.
Almost. This place is so great, so majestic, I can’t help but leave with a sense of pride, knowing I am privileged enough to come here.
With a final look back, I take in the glow of the setting ***** of sun against the background of the wind. I hesitate at the bridge, to put my hair back up into a ponytail. I slip back into my sneakers and I put on my lip gloss. I’m ready to go back to the side of the world from which I came.
I have to catch my breath as I prepare myself for the world I’m returning to. I breathe in deeply, and I look down, at my feet. Gnarled, scabbed, and bent at the bone. Where’s the beauty?
I take a reluctant, mournful step onto the bridge
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 10:52 PM UTC
Theanine mornings
A cup of coffee
two
three
Counteracting, a balance
Sunbeams pummeling
My hands
And a thunderstorm
Raging outside
It's a beautiful day
The skies are grey
But the world is alight
It's alright
I am
alright
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
My mind is like a chemistry set
Mixing and reacting
Messes counteracting
I discover
Insolubility
Search for my identity
What’s my responsibility?
Reality?
Just wanna have serenity
Worn out positivity
But I’m not jaded
I’m periodically faded
Not easily persuaded
By the things they have created
Have never been degraded
Or hated
I don’t know what that’s like
All I know is it’s wrong
I want to be in the right!
Because love conquers ALL
No fight
In love with the light
At first sight
One thing ties us together
We are human
We are being
And breathing
That’s what I’m believing
So smile and go the extra mile
Make your existence worthwhile
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
Though some believed that just as beauty
Space was in the eye of the beholder,
An abstract justification for human experience
Of matter and its motion,
An ancient thinker, by history called the Great,
Asserted with conviction, it simply did not exist.
Nothing was not a concept of nature
Abhorring vacuum, and all agreed.
As nothing came from nothing,
Nothing couldn’t be. Empty space
Out of consciousness’ reach.
Deprived of objects it had no purpose,
For what would its purpose be
If not that of being a place
To contain all that exists?
The mind puzzling game concocted
If space could exist independently of matter
Matter could not exist independently of space,
For where would it be?
So came another thinker questioning
‘Is space something rather than nothing?’
As indeed deprived of the object, undeniably
The place de facto would still exist.
Time passing by replaced thinkers with scientists,
Defining its nature for it to be infinite and absolute,
Existing independently of objects and the mind of the observer,
Observing its balancing force, counteracting that of gravity,
To keep things apart. Dark energy, Energy of space.
Now searching for particles to fill in the voids
To justify the dynamic and expanding quality
Of a Universe which might as well
Be a plenum.
Retracing back the steps to initial perceptions
Of inexistent space for a Cosmos filled
With fundamental particles elegantly orchestrating
The motion of all that ever was, is and will be.
All that exists, a plenum of energy.
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 4:14 AM UTC
Good cannot exist without Bad,
No Light without Darkness,
Says the learned, Bull **** I say,
Human Justification all that is,
Good is absence of Bad,
Not the counteracting force,
Not the Balancing Parameter
True Good is a hard find,
You know why ?
Good cannot be Glorified without Bad,
Good cannot be Immortalised without Bad,
A Good that needs Glory,
is Never Good.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 4:29 AM UTC
Bleached out hair and sunken-in eyes.
Bracing for yet another goodbye.
Being promised not to be used
yet you'd rather be abused.
Dreaming of one day wearing a white dress-
knowing the reality of your life being a mess.
Turning twenty-one is not that fun
when all you want is to be one with your daddy tying your hair in a bun.
Memories that don't seem real -
the only tangible things that make you feel.
Full face of makeup and dressed to the nines -
the only thing I can control and call mine.
A soft kiss-
something I'll let myself miss.
Bleached out hair and sunken-in eyes,
bracing for yet another goodbye.
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
She's now through the wilderness open door
And here victims still protest the conflict
Where my living proof is ravaged by dead faith
As if there is no counteracting perplexity.
Yet you remind me and it's not your duty
Love hides behind innocence
With common ground commemorating charity.
She sang the number spiral
To destroy the despair barricade
But his imagination endlessly
Stretched and twisted synchronous imagery
So I projected ambient praxis
Into those broken musings.
Do you still think the world's words
Should be sacrificed by knowledge as music?
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 11:05 PM UTC
The louder I speak
The more quiet I am
I swear it's my silence
That's deafening...
The weight of my own denial
Has me weak.. on my knees
Cowering
until the pain forces me
To react carelessly,
destructive...
..destructive..
Is it in my nature?
Is this who I am?
Daily I question how I can make it
Without counteracting
Every choice
that I'm making
Or every opportunity
That I'm waiting
On....
Why am I hurting the ones that I love...
When I don't even meant to?
Why do I continue to pick
at the scars from my past..
when I know I don’t need to?
And why do I damage
all of the thoughts
I've progressed...
When it's all that I cling to?
... saddest thing is
..if I can even admit..
I don't even mean to..
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
both spectacular individuals,
and together they used to taste just right.
counteracting the sweet, with the nutty,
balancing the sticky with the smooth.
but today,
i stare down into my life lunch box,
and pb & j,
don't go together,
like they used to.
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 9:19 PM UTC
Im getting tired
of dreaming about you;
But if it stopped I would
Beg God
Or the Devil himself
to bring your face
Back to my subconscious
Your warm
And angsty vibration
Rippling into mine
Counteracting each other
Into blissful comfort
The synaptic lightning bolts
Flushing my cheek
As we dance upon
Mid summers nightmares
Pushed and pulled
Into
Particles and
Millions of emotions
Your deep eyes capture
The essence of these
Cascading
Visions
Your smell
Permeates the pillow
Until REM is
Suddenly shocked into
Reality
By the
Beeping
The buzzing and humming
Of reality
Cold
Radiates through my veins
My grade A
******
The last drop
Escapes back
Into the subconscious
I curse your visits
And yearn for one more
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
Darkened in the deepest depth
The fall from grace, unspoken yet,
The plunge to that which cannot tithe
Shall witness pain as we two writhe.
And writhe do we, in a sodium sea
Where absent friends must absent be
While salacious means be met
Embodied deep in Capulet.
Sought in songs of distant bells
Immersed in retribution Hells,
Cauterized by that which turns
While contradiction flays and burns.
Imprisoned by this blackest depth
By compromise, untried as yet,
The gauntlet thrown, they challenge we
To claw beyond a storm wracked sea.
A glance and then our pale lips meet
Though ner'e before, a kiss so sweet
Tho counteracting quests' dark prize
Creates belief in bright young eyes.
In Capulet on sunlit sea
The promise seeps exquisitely
Enabling when reluctance flows
The will to countermand the blows.
Tranquil waters ebb and flow
To wash the golden sands aglow,
Seabirds flock in noisy scree
In Capulet on sunlit sea.
M.
28 January 2020
Jan 28, 2020
Jan 28, 2020 at 2:09 AM UTC
My anxiety sits next to me & it is not small & I am not capable of bottling it up & putting it on shelf, it would shatter the jar & collapse the shelf & I have to live with the fact that it’s not something you can just put away & that’s it always present & it’s always there & that I have to ignore it & contradict it & have to deal with it actively trying to ruin every shred of ******* happiness I have felt & I think I felt & should I have felt it? & my anxiety isn’t some entity I can kick out my house & block the number of & I can put in little ear plugs shaped like pills & those little ear plugs will just dull out that one specific droning some of the time & then I’ll notice that the other thing next to me is telling me to **** myself & the earplugs don’t work on that (they amplify it & that’s so weird) & it makes some pretty compelling arguments & that’s really scary & so I take out my ear buds out so I can drown that out with my anxiety counteracting those arguments & sometimes they synch up & that’s even better & I’m just letting them chip away at me & I’m chipping away at me until there’s nothing left & what isn’t left? & in addition & also & including &
&
&
&
Nov 23, 2022
Nov 23, 2022 at 4:40 AM UTC
She's ever there, giving me pills
Counteracting the harm I inflict
Left to my sickness, inviting vices
Contentedly providing to my ills.
I am conflicted, addicted to the ledge
She draws me back in, back from my sin
Back to center, well away from the edge
Her love taking me, silencing life's din.
Saving me from myself to be part of us
When all she needs is there, in herself
Life's invite in her name, I'm just a plus
Living or dying contentedly on a shelf.
She wants me around, my lady she does
Her clown, her friend, her lover, her man
Wanting me in the to be, the is, and the was
Wanting me, and why, I'll never understand.
Dec 7, 2024
Dec 7, 2024 at 10:08 AM UTC