"disconnectedness" poems
Your garden was lush
with poetic wildflowers
yet, darkness swayed its spirit
'neath teeming salt tear hazes,
tried to enrich the soil but
ground cover was defensive,
hardened by winters' of
contrary disconnectedness
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC
You followed down through the gathered pages
to the labyrinth that leads back through the changes
A long and twisted line of unmapped rivers,
*** holed low-roads and tattered mileposts
glancing homeless back-alleys as dark as lonely crossroads
Past the broken wings that fell from skyward treetops
scattered feathers amongst rose petals wilted
at the hand of tear stained faded photos
of frozen black and white faces;
hidden ghosts in the closet that fell from grace
The pathway narrows where the traces dissipate
passing under burning bridges, beneath locked stairwells
A fickle feather floating upon rivers ragging
like the hubris disconnectedness of time rolling out to sea ―
Shadows growing darkest as you reach the blackest silence
and you kept the answers to all the questions at arms length
hidden in the darkness ― where you saw love disfigure me
It was then and there I knew I'd dreamed of someone like you
looking for someone more than I could ever be
Just an unsated curiosity, trying to see beyond
your own misunderstanding, to feel and touch
an unknown depth beyond reach
As sunset pales the distantness, the night is yours alone
when tomorrow's morning rain
hangs on the falling leaves ― I’ll be gone
Just a wayfaring loner in a lonely world
Where rivers are only water
and love was once a flowing river
I thirst to swallow ―
to wash away these tracks of my tears ...
rivers ... 2017
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 11:58 AM UTC
The singing birds may waken you in the morning, only to expose you to another day of uncertain disconnectedness. However, the late afternoon handling of newspapers could result in textured fingers and a black nose, whilst ice-cold rain pelts against your jacket with a forceful concerto of magical precipitation.
As you stand dripping wet, my indulgent adolescent of traumatic naivety, always remember that Popeye will be speeding hastily toward your confectionary impulses.
The dog behaved like a royal prince, as he gracefully licked ice-cream from the cone of his masters’ desire. Further Turkish amazement could be found in the palm of his hand, whilst snowflakes fell, and the tracks of police vehicles gradually faded during blizzards of the night.
Silence truly speaks across pink morning skies, as we gaze out of the window into resounding flights of fancy.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 2:26 AM UTC
I'm just
I can't feel my lips
on my face
so still
i cant move them
on their own
i can't tell if they are parted
i can't tell if they exist
i can't feel my hips or
my feet, or my lefs
i can't move them
i can't feel them
i want to break
i want all of the confusion, the disconnectedness
i can cry
but i can't escape this
and i can't can't escape this
there is no break
a million scattered shattered steps
stood stunning
chameleon flattered
I can't move.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6n_z-FdEkw&feature;=youtu.be
^unlisted
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC
Coffee first thing,
better make it a double
for the morning rush
and that train that expects me.
Closing eyes on the journey
trying to accumulate
another micro minute of
peace
maybe the silence kept me all night,
with ideas on how to change.
Or I'm overworked by the drive
that will buy an escape to freedom.
We closed our eyes
as it's too depressing to see,
too numbing to watch,
but if hearing is the last sense hanging on
then announce on our speaker
that today is not just another,
that there is something different,
something hopeful
to come back out of our heads from.
let us feel more
I feel like screaming,
maybe to cause some confusion,
so an emotion creates something
other than familiarity.
Yet more papers turn
as the melancholy deepens,
unconscious
or 20:20
the train doors open anyway,
to close,
as though destiny decided to accept
waiting.
Just for a few more stops anyway
Tapping on phones in disconnectedness,
engaging away from that moment
as blinking just don't know where to be
sitting facing such strangers.
Nobody look at me!
fingertips planning movements
of where One shall have to be,
when these doors of limbo re-open.
Where are all those travellers!
I walk behind,
a que of single file
and with every step
I long to run through
and against this one way system,
possibly naked
to provoke a smile
if I'm lucky
But the moment isn't opportune
I guess I will do it one day
On a day I will swear
that I will never feel enslaved
by the weight
of obligation gripping my sole.
Marching up stairs
with images of arrows,
follow this direction
is the wrong kind of sign
Steps continue upward
as though a continuous metaphor.
And soon I'll take my chances.
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 8:52 PM UTC
My palate makes the switch from heavy hops to rooibos, ignoring
The powerlines and harmonies and busy highways.
There’s a chill in my bones upon discovering something beautiful:
Someone who can play the piano,
The disconnectedness from self I learn to love,
The gradual erasure of self
Into
Silence
Apart from the occasional clever word and smug smile.
As love spills towards me like a waterfall from the mountain,
I solemnly realize that I have a problem and the bitter-
Sweet voice replies “So do we all.”
I trust and love that voice more than everything:
More than the wallpaper that has guided my trip up the stairs for years,
More than the cigarette-smoke smelling basement,
More than the front yard that tastes like pine sap and motor oil.
I take to the neighborhood the same way
A shark takes to the taste of blood.
I could write for ages about that basement and the spaces of it I never walked
The corners I only gazed at as if they were the darkest depths of the human soul
And never touched --
Because they felt like ghosts upon my skin,
Because the television cast a glow on them that told me to avoid them.
It lives in my sternum, like the pill which sticks in my intestines
And eats away at the tender membranes til they burst.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 6:55 AM UTC
Tap tap I close the app
Tap and swipe to reopen
hoping
to feel wanted
to feel liked
to feel desired
I watch the circle swirl in anticipation
(my WIFI is being a *****
I lay in bed
hoping
to hear a notification
to feel a vibration
to see a speech bubble
but nothing
nothing
It's been too long I've relied on
the tap tap tapping, on
the anticipation of a
vibration of a
notification:
my desperate search for
an online speech bubble
This feeling of disconnectedness
in this heavily connected
community,
I hope to overcome someday
Tap tap
Shut down
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC
I am already saddened at the severed tie of unanticipated disconnectedness.
Bonds of the soul are beyond the figment of our frail imaginations.
Black Sunday may give us what we call a “special deal”, but we have to pay greater homage to the powers that be – namely our ridiculous “White House”.
In the era of advancement and confusion of colour, I give thanks for your genuine being.
The forgotten will truly be remembered, and we will raise a final toast to the anaesthetic of contemporary propaganda.
Do you honestly think that you will be safe? Nobility does not reign in absolute finesse and the Fertility of the land is not without its benefits.
In my obscurity, I urge you to plough the fallowed ground in the spirit of the English countryside.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:13 PM UTC
My soul literally pulsates
sideways out of my body
I watch it with heavy eyes, my head
on my pillow
I hear a motor revving down the street
And it grounds me
This stranger with a completely different life than mine is running a stable engine
And he has no idea that our disconnectedness
has connected me
He doesn't know that we never met and shall never part, for that reason
He doesn't know that he put my soul back in place
I listen to that motor humming and I inhale
Suddenly, it stops-
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
I want to stop breaking people like glass, and I'm tired of hearing my own bones shatter because I allow others to crush them as they walk all over me. I want the world to stop changing for a moment so I can catch up with the times, but I'll never catch up, I'll never see the light of day if I keep hiding myself under the blanket of night where the stars seem to shine brighter than any future I could ever hold on this Earth. I am alone and the ground is shaking and time stops for no one and I believe it wouldn't be wrong to say that I love you because I do, but it is wrong because here I am, trying to pick up the pieces of my ever breaking heart and I can't remember a time when I could breathe because my lungs are failing and my blood is under oxygenated and I feel an emptiness somewhere in between my ribs or my less than whole and aching heart. Everything is dark, everything leaves a foul taste in the back of my throat and the leaves my be green, but I am dead and I am a walking, rotting corpse and I am surely a shame to this world because all I have to contribute to this earth are the sad stories I tell and the random facts I know about Archduke Franz Ferdinand and horrible words that sort of sometimes turn into poems, so what is the point of living when you're just full of nothing of importance? if I died, no, when I die, I will be either put into the ground or burned, which is not what I want (I would love to either be sent into space or made into a tree) but that will most likely never happen, so at least I will live long enough to know that people **** and anything can break your heart and that you don't care, no you don't care one bit and neither should I, but I care too much about everything and everyone and that is where I'm going wrong. that is why I am dying, I have given every good part of me away and all that is left are the feelings of misery, depression, and disconnectedness inside of my burning soul. if my body were a galaxy, my heart would be the black hole in the middle, for it surely knows how to grab onto the surrounding planets and stars and make them fall in till they are ripped apart piece by piece until they are nothing.
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 3:01 AM UTC
I always struggled with
and did not understand
Those Buddhist Monks
insistent call to detachment.
I longed to attain
their serene, unflappable,
gently smiling
afability.
I might as well have attempted
Mt. Everest's Summit.
Until one day
It came around the corner
and swallowed all my thoughts
& grasping need,
And finally, now
I'm beginning to see.
It's not apathy
or disconnectedness
or a lack of care.
It is release
It is peace
It is a still
quiet
open
empty clear space
Where I can finally
Breathe.
The view from Mt. Everest's Peak
can't compare
to this expansive Vista
that is now unfurled
before
within
& throughout me.
I slowed enough
for it to over take
& empty me
And now I understand
Those Beautiful Monks look
of Serene Glee...
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 11:26 AM UTC
How many great fables
Do tell of the battle
Between good and evil
Light and dark?
Arise hearts of sunshine!
Cast your strong rays
To banish the darkness
Of unchecked destruction!
The pathways of disappointment
Must be challenged
The disconnectedness of spirit
Must be reconnected
Abject Despair
Must transform into hope
Bitter numbness
Must not be accommodated
Fanfares will herald
The rise of humanity
Earth will be cherished
And life will abound
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC
I really wanted to express warm grattude
to the new web acquaintances I've made on here
during this trying time. Practically overnight
I got a buncha new followers as a new user, or
at least it seems like a buncha to me; then,
rather suddenly, it seems like everybody at
once stopped reading my stuff. Given the current situation,
I sincerely hope that this doesn't mean you have...
no, it's too terrible to think of, much less say.
Nevertheless, my gratitude for your recognition,
however momentary, is heartfelt and continues,
and I want you to know that I will continue to
value our association for as long as this period of
social disconnectedness lasts, after which
I will re-evaluate rationally based on a cost-benefit model.
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 7:06 PM UTC
Loneliness
The primary emotion
I’m feeling these days
Enveloped in beauty,
Love,
Gratitude
Revered
And yet…
Those
Unmet needs,
They
Fester.
Emptiness swells
Filling
The void between us
Disconnectedness
Persists
Aug 28, 2023
Aug 28, 2023 at 6:48 AM UTC