"dematerialize" poems
Engulfed by light /
eyes open wide/
my pupil turns white/
it’s nothing to stand in the impenetrable heat. /
The sun stands before you/
with all of your turmoils /
your mind is my glory hole !/
The powerful gust from a huge fan i trust/
was disguised as an infinite beam as it lifts me/
dematerialize the old grains of me/
The wind spreads her love unconditionally
/DESERT JASPER /
what morals are you after?
In the face of sadism
the expression of laughter.
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
It's summertime. The saxophone jazz
sounds are pirouettetting the waves
to find their own balance. It's a mauve
inner dance in almost everything around.
More exactly, the melodious movable
sounds become soundable movement
needing a reverberation time to dissipate
the energy. The movement releases its own
purity to become simple fecundity. The pulsed
sound waves are also old memories lost in the
natural green. The saxophone looks much
more like a Tahitian prince dancing his love
on the sand. The singing mauve sea waves
have a sadness taste at sunset. The last one
is a watery mermaid and he embraces her
while searching the high. The sounds need
touch and life. They need to dematerialize
and to disappear into the universe. The
saxophone remains a solitaire keeping
safe his evanescent hermetic equilibrium.
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
I believed I was an immortal
Until you began opening portals
To the future and the past
To the needle and the flask
Portals that warp my mind
Like space and time
Until I dematerialize
From the appearance of lies
This portal I must climb back through
When all the lies have become true
Like when they said portals couldn't be climbed
For there are no ledges
Only pledges
Of a hatred death wish
That leaves me breathless
The portals had to be sealed
You became my quantum mechanic
The tires of the DeLorean squealed
As we abandoned my stationary driveway
And started rectifying my past
By driving forward
The portals' gravitational pull was lifted
And I could walk again
A pedestrian in paradise
Until you teleport into the rain
And I teleport into my brain
Becoming a prisoner
To thoughts that travel at the speed of light
And create a beautiful spectrum in the mirror you presented to me
I fear the day you shatter our light barrier
You'll see you're more mature
And fly away like a jet that's harrier
Because once you can see my thoughts
You'll sell all the stock you bought
You'll see I'm merely mortal
And you'll open new portals
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
In The Light, I am engulfed.
Eyes wide open yet I see nothing but white.
Feel nothing but an impenetrable heat.
As if my eyes were closed and the sun
were blazing right before me in all His glory.
I am lifted into an infinite beam
by a powerful gust.
Soaring higher and higher.
My body slowly begins to dematerialize
into grains of sand.
The wind, She spreads me all about.
Each grain a gem waiting to be discovered.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 1:37 PM UTC
One of these days, the glimmer in your eye that knocks me out will actually break me,
And then my words and reservoir of tears will shatter into shards of truth
That stick into and stain your hands when you apologetically try to sweep them up.
It’s not a ******* secret that I live for the hours that I can pretend that maybe,
One of these nights, I’ll be with you in more than just my mind and yours
As you grip the banister to ascend to silken sheets and wine-fed dreams.
I bite my tongue so words don’t leak, and lick my lips so as to keep them here,
Rather than the curving place behind your ear… the stalwart jaw… the capable lips that draw me near…
The things I’d do were waters clear…
The answer’s written in an inky, contractual ultimatum that squashes the fruit of imagination.
And yet, a fierce, poisonous force rises from the depths of a desirous ***** within,
And whispers to me that with contracts, there are ways to blot, smear, and tear. It scares me.
I lock it in a closet of infectious notions that I’ll slowly dematerialize with clean blood,
But rivers of the stuff won’t run clear when they’re magnetized so close to the sin
That doesn’t feel like sin, and that beckons as a beacon of bright and beautiful things.
It’s a difficult conclusion to arrive at: I must be the bad guy.
I am the mind’s mistress, the secret-almost-lover, the temptation, the promise, the snake…
Yet also the forgotten, the disappointed, the frustrated, the one who MUST keep control, the Saint.
We both know that I’ll keep floating back; my curiosity, passion, fascination, and need to learn and share
Will always countervail the weight of my exasperation and guilt-laden vexation,
Until one of these days when the glimmer in your eye that knocks me out actually breaks me.
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 7:10 AM UTC
I was deep in the land of shadows
Halfway between the living and dead
In the awful silence of void
The atmospheres soft
And it’s people plastic
Mephistophelean and astute
When a band of ruffians stormed
The inferno beneath
With volcanic tremor
Sweeping down like a tidal wave
Of so terrific Tsunamic magnitude
Spurning all restraint
Slowed down my pace
By reciprocal math of wizardly
Substituting the direct proportion for inverse
I dragged and they almost flew
Corpsic form and tattered cloth
Is all I see and
Gaping mouth oozing blood
Grotesque creatures tinting hell
After me and almost done
I should out loud voiceless
I reach for the nothingness
And there’s no thing
I stretch still to scale it down
Wishing I had wings
And take flight
Or superhuman like Superman
Hopping I possessed metaphysical force
Like the Matrix upgrade version
To disembody and dematerialize
And so vanish into stillness
To hang in space out of sight
By the trickery of magic
To cast spell like lady of the Voodoo
And freeze plant herbage and the human
Instantly and give a diabolic glean
Make a catwalk of villain trump
To the disgust of victim
And ultimate flown of the gods
That hardly smile anyway
But I am human and my powers feeble
My infinity lies bound within
Time and daylight
The parameters of finite
In a rat race so unfair
Distances too close and defeat too plain
I die out and awoke within
To brace another day with headache
Devil, I escaped Gehenna
That gives me surety I will outpace you
For what I saw when I slept
Hail Tartarus I am Morpheus
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 9:29 AM UTC
Some 'others'
and so-and-sos
don't want to be found.
They don't want to be
solid.
They don't want to:
dematerialize or to rematerialize or to manifest.
They don't want to come into being or exist.
Some so-and-sos are vagrant and delinquent.
Truant vagaries of brush strokes
mushrooming in the tresses of dresses.
Indeed, some 'others' wish to remain anonymous.
They reckon it’s reasonable
to protect a human standard.
Their privacy a prison of unwatchfulness-
the walls closing in like they did for Hans Solo,
Chewbacca, and the princess...
like Indiana Jones or some platform pitfall romance.
The 'others' wish to remain alone.
How else would they be 'others'?
Anonymity is the preferred state of 'others'
and so-and-sos.
It is their church confessional.
Safe harbor to their ******
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC
"Atlantis is sinking" she says
As she takes another drag of her cigarette
It's July 27th, 2017
Cancun, Mexico
and her name is Esmeralda
"But everyone calls me Esme"
When she was younger
She would sit on the docks with her older sister and count up all
the cruise ships and fishing boats that lit up the edges of the bay and far beyond into the black abyss which would dematerialize into itself like
a dream half forgotten when
you're half awake
Now a days she sleeps with
the windows shut
and the drapes down
And never alone
Not as long as I'm here
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
I wrote this in the dark.
Because the last poem stripped
from the book binding and ripped
from my chest was not valued at
the utility company's worth; a two-hundred dollar bill is not easily disbursed when each
poem nets zero cents per word.
A candlestick will
dematerialize faster than
a wax seal on parchment -
one that establishes the epoch of
Civil Rights -
this is a correlated falsehood
of fixed rents in a gentrified neighborhood.
The plus-side of *******
the poor to cater to the wealthy
is that when the new occupants
move in, and the stainless steel
refrigerator is moved in, the empty
box is placed at the curb, and with
the right imagination it can easily
become a home for two.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 6:36 PM UTC
she's in the whoosh feel her span through time it's all relative across dimensions and into space bigger on the inside smaller to the seeing eye walk around her you'll see but step inside and the venture begins she's an old girl stuck in the form of boxy blue past her prime yet still as sturdy she'll dematerialize at will speeding through rifts explore her corridors and discover her anew enter other realms, pasts and futures she's been at the beginning and to the end of time her companions many yet the one who's steady is a mysterious man one called Dr but no one knows Who except her for they've been together through ages only to get to say hello toward the end she's a reliable old girl who's traveled many worlds she's seen thing and heard tings you'll know her by the sound of her whoosh as she comes and goes.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
Beauty does dematerialize
like the effect of a childhood kiss;
your images anesthetize
thoughts that lead to this.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
once a day I spend ten seconds sorry for me
then ten hours on those worse off
I think about my problems too long
and not enough on what I can do to help others
after all what good is pity for me I don't like it
nor do I pity others I empathize
try to put my foot in their shoe
and it makes my problems dematerialize
and one day I will wittle it down to ten seconds a year
and hope I made a difference
before I go
on to whereever
it is old hippies go to
then
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 9:23 PM UTC
Tapping a
singing bowl
the way guard
dropped is
universally
expressed...
reverberating
off the walls
with the sound
of a bird call
yet to materialize...
just as the sound's
about to dematerialize.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 11:56 PM UTC
...At this evening nigh-tide, reptilian
brain bites back instinctively.
I am forgiven in all Houses...all postulations
bloat these blue veins.
Daguerreotype pictures cake their ashen
backdrop, that assures the comely smile
of cosmic forbearance.
As if these lips would dematerialize in search
of utterance.
Not for the entrained speakeasy of spotlit
here and now...but the energetic pulse tugged
at both ends of tongue.
The final straw struck back, to ingratiate the
greatest of pilgrimages.
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 11:11 AM UTC
The black hole is the other side of God's eye.
We cannot travel through and survive because of the limitations set.
Light can escape, as light has cone access that we do not have.
Until we are able to dematerialize and rematerialize while also keeping our consciousness, we will never be able to see what is on the other side.
There are creatures inconceivable to our reality on that side, almost like enlarged versions of bacteria and etc.
We are like cells, complex and working to keep this reality at work.
Our planet is like this.
The core, nucleus. You can go along those lines.
Anyways, we are able to leave this giant version of us, but only when it is accessible.
Feb 26, 2021
Feb 26, 2021 at 5:44 PM UTC
Our love is a flame.
Flickering as ‘trouble’ uproars upon us.
Burning out when wind grows robust.
Black swirls dematerialize into the air, as if no second existed of prevailing passion.
The ponderous scent still lingering in the blackness; nebulous remains of a love turned cold.
A dusty old candle, situated on a shelf of lost treasures.
The only recognition, a spider steadily making a home out of an arduous love that was never anything more than frivolous.
(S.j.R)
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 2:39 PM UTC
its just so painful,
so hard for me to comprehend,
that my very soul
would ever fit into the ciphering world,
to speak its lingua franca .
even the abc's seem like
like the burning sensations of a finger
roasting on burning coals.
the Ice never seems to melt under blazing heat
on which it lies
oh how my soul longs to dematerialize
yet i do wish i do not.
Failure is the only bell
that tolls my eardrums
oh why did my green soul
pluck up the guts
the guts to enter the Kingdom of Geniuses?
i desire an army seal
to set me free
to be free as a citizen
inside this kingdom
The Kingdom of Geniuses
Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 7:32 PM UTC