"deas" poems
there's usually a sense of "hey this is what i do, this is what has happened to me, because of me, in spite of me", etc. for most
for me, comfort zone can be a major issue.
So, i'm new here...or sometimes it's, "yes, i am".
struggle can be keeping it together
other times it's getting it out.
most of the time it's making it up as i go along.
other times it's repeating what i've previously made up.
not in a nonfactual or lying sense, necessarily. not in a laying sense, necessarily.
duality divides me though it's more of a choice, i suppose.
sometimes cynic, other times scenic. mostly both.
So, i'm new here...about 2 hrs. or 31 years. or for an immeasurable blink of thought...i'm new here in the speed of ligh-deas.
there was 9 of us growing, 11 with my parents. now their is 8 of us still growing at the same individual rate and 1, i believe, expanding beyond what i am currently able to connect to. i miss it all, including the possibility of never knowing in the end.
my parents still growing.
the seeds of my own, blooming like rain drops turned snow ***** aimed at the desert floor. crashing with laughter, imposing their spirit and sky-packed piercing frost to the desolate detail that awaits the on-coming wave of a background made of mushroom clouds.
so, since i'm new here i can be blatant in, yes IN, the surface and a bit more cryptic in the subtext.
it helps to **** out the weeds...at times me being the ****
like a self-aware filing cabinet, collecting dust, holding on to perceived archaic attractions like faded paper, record players and the sound of giant stones sliding across one another. the option of a lock. the reality of a handle.
is there ever such a thing as "rambling"? who defines compromise? is peace and non-violence the only thing worth dieing for? do we only act when given the promise of reward? blah blah blah. i genuinely ask these ?s but it's hard to stay unpretentious when you're talking about yourself so much...but hey, i'm new here and i'm trying my damndest to not give a **** however i am writing this to share. perspective. take it...leave it...put it in to...pull it out of. awaken. sleep. and awaken.
so please and thank you. and welcome.
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 1:18 PM UTC
Please don't try and correct me.
I'm not broken. I'm maybe free-spirited and a little out-spoken but I've got methods that water would even soak in and when you confuse me with that ****** J.R.R. Tolkien just because I'm burning herbs that Gandalf would be smokin', I'm going to brush it off like you're just joking and I'll get back to the life that i'm continuously toking, kick it back like it's all easy stroking, become at one with nature like an invisible cloak and be that dream but still get awoken by the ground as if something is choking me by the hands of some celestial bloke and hence why i feel like evoking some people with words like they are subliminal pokes and hopefully I'll please whatever it is that had me initially provoked then.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
be
(c)areful of your thoughts
(u)ndeserving as it seems &
(r)un through fields of
(i)deas with an
(o)pen mind that'll
(s)lowly guide you
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
An undertone, nothing more,
But what could fill your absence?
Things come and go
Shaping lives
Who am I
Free me from my cage
Dec 9, 2010
Dec 9, 2010 at 7:46 PM UTC
táim óg agus tá mé sean
dá fheicthe ná rudaí a bhfeicim
páistí, cairde, clann
tá súile againn uilig
tá chroí againn uilig
tá saoirse againn uilig
tá ádh orainn
ábalta labhairt
ábalta canadh
ábalta am a caitheadh lenár teaghlaigh
níl an t-ádh ag gach duine
glac cúpla soicind
nuair atá tú ag gaire s' ag guí
glac an deas atá agat
agus cuir é in úsáid.
Jul 16, 2020
Jul 16, 2020 at 12:00 PM UTC