"embody" poems
Be kind to yourself,
as you are with others
You have these
grand expectations
of yourself
and at times,
those around you
It's good to have goals
and a hunger for
betterment,
but you must also be
vigilant
to keep them realistic
Because, while you are indeed
fierce & strong-willed,
you are also soft
& at times
fragile
You are human.
But that doesn't mean
you are without
superpowers
Your sensitivity is your greatest gift,
but without care,
can also be your greatest
downfall
You must learn to master your craft.
This means to be
patient with yourself
as you would with others,
to show compassion
as you would with others,
to show love,
grace,
& humility,
to yourself
This in practice,
is to truly understand,
& epitomise,
that self-care
is not
selfish
That it is okay to say no,
or to ask for help,
or to be truly
vulnerable
To acknowledge
that fear is
the root cause
of bitterness
& resentment
To embrace the lows,
for making the highs even
sweeter
To let the good wash
over you
the same as
the bad,
& embrace the micro changes,
as the meta
stays the same
To believe you are worthy,
of a great love,
the same as you believe
another's
worthy of
yours
To embody the idiom
that one can
only
truly love another,
after
they learn to love
themself,
& thus allowing
the hard-earned
victory
of grounded, stable
communion
To know the difference between
support
& advice,
love
& lust,
friendships
& partnerships
To have
faith
that you will find your way,
because you will;
because you live your life
with generosity
& authenticity
This is my vision for you,
that you will
make this your reality.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 2:18 PM UTC
let it not be confused
let no one else's name
ring throughout these sentences
let this be a hatchet
let me put this to rest
this is not a test
i don't want to think
about shipwrecks anymore
i am tired of folding apologies
into origami birds
and placing them
at the headstones to your tantrums
this is not is not geology class
these are promises
written on razorblades
*& if you are getting choked up
then maybe you should be*
maybe we should be buried
with our telescopes face down
my mouth is full of sorry
all for being honest
we are falling out of orbit
we are burning bystanders
so cast away your callous condolences
because no one is clapping
in this waist deep water
this is not a baptism
so do not tell strangers
that this was a chance to drown
any differently
i am not a catalogue
of constellations you cannot name
this is not mythology
so stop believing your horoscope
i am not a wishing well
i am just a wall for you
to paint post nuclear fallout & antonyms for catharsis on
we destroy the things
that are not ours-
the wanton ways
we embody wrecking *****
and then cry over the rubble
this is not a heap or a mosaic
this is leaping
off a thousand story building
with no one to catch you
at the bottom & maybe
that's why some quiet moments
are so fragile, maybe that's why butterflies have mimicry
your words are black powder
and poetry is your musketry
i guess that makes me your blindfold
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
He dreamed he was loved.
A love guarded fiercely, with passion.
A love that was not unconditional.
Not the blank slate love of a child
or an animal so programmed by instinct.
This love was willful and earned.
Having glimpsed an injured brilliance
beneath the flab and sweat and stench she weaned it to health.
Making it stronger, and brighter,
and more prominent with each passing day; until it erupted.
And he was transformed.
to embody that brilliance.
And she protected that embodiment.
Letting nothing call it to question.
She cared for him as he never could for himself.
She soothed and softened
and loved the deep furrow from his brow.
And her passion overwhelmed him.
And he wanted for nothing.
And when he opened his eyes
To **** and filth
with only the kiss of concrete
and the banter of horns
and obscenities
and footsteps.
******* FOOTSTEPS.
Heels pittering purposefully to mask exhausted uncertainty
Brogues, and wingtips clicking; with a cocky juvenile illusion of importance.
Boots plodding heavily under the weight of duty,
to build, and fix, and secure for the others.
And through a fog laid thick and throbbing
by poisons chased dutifully the night before;
he felt her fierce love for a fleeting moment
Guarding, and loving his shining brilliance
until it erupted from him;
With bile and blood, **** and regret
coldly rejected by his concrete companion.
And she was gone once again.
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC
This little man that I know with money in his sockets and routine in his pockets has self proclaimed that he is a tight *** When I envision a *** such as this, I imagine a bundle -- of securely aggregated, perfectly sharpened number two pencils. The businessman just shy of adulthood and too tired to remember –even the beginning of his of disclosure, denied his struggle to acclimate a multifarious lifestyle, appropriately suggested in the form of a triangle, and a circle, both of which embody polar opposing adaptations of humanistic routine.
The two shapes: The circle, denies the break in motion by imposing a constant cycle of diligent compression, there is no room for pause only steady flow and relentless drive. This influence of life impression slows down the heart, body, and soul while speeding up time. This particular commitment accommodates the dry colorless beings that embrace and accept boxed imprisonment.
Traditionally, the triangle denotes rhythmic patterns that elevate and drop to a point in which imposes a healthy reflective pause: progression, reflection, balance. As stated, as a provincial approach, a regular triangle flat on its base, peaking at the top represents a healthy, solid life routine. In contrast, the triangle can be flipped upside-down introducing an entirely new dynamic, composed of flat-lined monotony, tapered off to a regressed realm of destruction, regret and disorder. Despite the uniqueness of the standard triangle model to the man in question, it is important to compare the negative reflection, for it applies to the entirety of this investigation.
We used to be lovers, he and I. We shared my giant pillow-top that I bought on the black market for a meager two-hundred fifty. -- A mere steal at that rate.
We occasionally exchanged ideas, mainly about ethical concerns related to globalization and the environment.
I attempted to give him a cooking lesson once, but that failed, indefinitely. The bust was not my doing, but simply, a great disinterest on his part; or better yet an inability of not being better than me at something.
Everything has gotten so crowded.
Jan 18, 2010
Jan 18, 2010 at 1:17 AM UTC
.
In solitude...
There's constant talk of the moon
And incessant wishes upon stars
Each word is cast unto paper
Unsure if they'd stretch that far
In solitude...
I embody pelts of droplets from the sky
As thunder mark the seconds that would elapse
Stagnant puddles of liquid dreams
Ever flowing in endless traps
In solitude...
I feel the urge to lose all balance
Aloneness beckons like a long lost friend
Always strange but familiar
To see and be at the bitter end
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
I will have you know that you are in the mine-ority
If you don’t look at my pic and insta-click “like” on me
I thrive in this weblight, you subsist in ambig-you-ity
Mine is the looking glass of Aphrod-I-te
The un-My-ghty look on my aesthetic perfection and despair
I am the reason there is an earth
All was designed to usher in my triumphant birth
You are just hateful ab-you-sers and mis-you-sers
YOU are YOUVENILE YOULINQUENTS!
I am the oh-so-fleeting truth
Present in a world obsessed with youth
I am only worth what others see in me
I embody the my-jority
My onscreen attention antics
Are the me-ssential components
Required to build a thriving Me-ocracy.
~
NM
10/17/14
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
“You are not an artist.
You are not an artist.”
What photos must I shoot
How many cigarettes must I smoke
It is scary, but - I want to embody the things which destroy minds
Summer vibes feel like radiation
Use this alcohol to eradicate
The proposition - that I will be ‘okay’
My phone is on airplane mode
My ambition is floating - as a feather might -
Down to the depths
I cannot finish my own sentences
Bury my expectation with my religion
And it’s funny
Because I have resolved my mind to avoid romantic
confrontation
But, alas - I do day-dream
Of a girl’s face & hair - for it has appeared in my dreams four
times
And I awake to Deja-Vu as her face appears in conscious
frames
So…
I can imagine & I can see, but - they have become one in the same
Could not fantasize asking
Your hand in mine
Oh how I wish to cry
To sob in any light so long as you are in sight
Someone to reassure me, that - yes
“There is an end to the night.”
But I cannot. I suppress it in drives. In music videos. In writing. In self-speaking when I have only me to keep company.
Kick me off the team.
I do not know what I need.
If I could lead, as I once did.
But I have left concern in the refrigerator
With empty bottles & cans
Maybe I will return tomorrow to salvage the cents of my malleable integrity
Won’t you reliquinish me of it ?
For I have sipped the poison of honesty
Regretfully it tastes like honey
Lustful - Fleeting - Sugary - Intoxicating
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
I usually begin these rants with a question.
But i find myself lacking in just this instance.
For whom can say.
Anything more
When ash refuses to respond.
No message can be relayed.
Just more things that i silently promise.
As i figuratively toast to a memory that will never do you justice.
Is it disrespectful to take words so literal.
To the point.
That looking down gun barrels and beer bottles.
Turned into a ****** routine that pride would boast.
Only there was no smile in my smile.
Inhaling disappointment.
As the years of missed visits and substance abuse.
Led me here.
At your deathbed.
wishing my words could reach beyond.
Without worry of a certain spectres blade in my shadow.
Then somehow.
I made my word.
The only thing worth asking about.
Because allowing the past to weave around the last routine we shared.
Would force everything that i have come to embody.
To null
Et fin.
But no.
Your gift was ever changing.
Trading a jack for skills.
While masking scars that only those with them would know of.
And in the darkest moments did i find a crystal.
Clear.
Resolve.
To struggle onward.
Tears wont spell the revisions we seek.
and i was taught to always look my best, no matter the destination.
Everything that i am.
Came from you.
It didn't come from a book nor a Professor.
I can only hope to pass on your wisdom.
Although cryptic at times.
Will remain in my heart.
So even though I will forever be thinking of a new metaphor.
A penny will sit in my pocket.
Until the day that I can place it in your palm.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 5:25 AM UTC
Shopping outfashioned hunting and gathering,
Processed beats fresh,
Groceries replaced fruit trees,
Malls superceded forests,
Churches outnumbered temples,
Countries dissolved to territories,
Places devolved to areas,
Paths broke down into highways,
Commodity converted to currency,
Laborers submit to machinery,
Masters engage in humbug,
Apprentices reduced to students,
Knowledge downgraded to education,
And education is deducted to a show of grades,
While schools are the stages,
And the corporate world is the bigger runway,
With work slumped to employment,
Wisdom demoted to profession,
Where in jobs are the only future,
Careers are the only success,
Clicking and pressing buttons are skills,
Computers are correspondent to brains,
Information refers to news reports,
Intelligence means up-to-dateness,
Browsing is preferable to reading,
Studying is in demand more than learning,
Viewing things flashed on screens yields awareness,
Transportation is to traveling,
As buying is to the three basic needs,
And needs embody worldly possessions,
Worldly possessions define happiness,
Happiness is due to selfishness,
Selfishness is traced to the lack of love,
The lack of love draws from the lack of faith,
Because faith stands for religion,
And religion stands for membership,
Where politicians are the gods,
Celebrities are the preachers,
And the preachers are the enemies,
While networking is equal to friendship,
And connection equates to communication,
Experiences require photos,
Memories necessitate uploading,
Souvenirs can be downloaded,
Smartphones are substitute to pets,
Gadgets are toys,
Holding controllers is playing,
Watching TV is exploring the great outdoors,
Internet is recreation,
And technology is a way of life;
While humans are scientists,
Nature is a guinea pig,
And the earth is a laboratory,
Where prices are misidentified for worth,
Processes are miscalculated as progress,
Impoverishment is confused with improvement,
And getting more is mistaken as getting better;
And then we wonder why
Homes have become houses,
Family members have become boarders,
Nations are separate species
Composed of tired and hungry citizens,
Children are monsters
Who are biochemically rascals,
Teenagers are zombies
Whose adventures lead to delinquency,
Adults are robots
Who just clang when touched,
And life is not so simple
As how it is said to be.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 5:40 AM UTC
close your eyes…
let your light lids become heavy
like falling asleep in a bed of soft dreams.
quiet your mind with a deep inhale....
breathe with me, and hold for a simple moment
cleanse your mind with a firm exhale.
Focus purely on your breath. Breathe with me. (take three sets of deep breaths)
imagine no thoughts that bother you
ignore the noise that follows your foot steps,
the little buzzes of every day, like fruit flies orbiting succulent peaches
let the noise fly away like those flies, far away
Let go of those days where you find yourself worried…
there is nothing to hold onto that worries you.
you are a strong, magnificent, worry free energy,
clean and sparkling.
Relax,
Envision your mind as a porcelain sink,
and the drain in the center pulls all the noise away,
until there is nothingness, emptiness.
let the darkness behind your eyelids engulf you...
it is warm, it is inviting, it is loving
in this darkness...
there is light.
See and feel this ball of radiant light ripping through the black
that tickles your skin like pins and needles
the most beautiful light you’ve ever seen...
be humble...
this is your love
manifested into an image
that presents itself to you
to show you all the love that your heart holds
it beats into your blood,
your veins,
your energy,
every inch of your physical,
your mental,
your soul...
feel that smooooth, delicate love swim through every morsel of your being,
it gives us light... it gives us life.
...
Create an intention… what do you want most?
Or perhaps, what do you want to give?
What do you… as nobody else but yourself…
want to embody? (take a few moments to gather and intention)
take a deep inhale... (inhale)
upon exhaling, release this intention into the universe...
everything you give will come back.
Let this intention become an extension of yourself
this is you, and you are this.
Now this part of you, the gentle intention, is part of the universe.
and you…
are part of the universe.
thank the cosmos for caring about your mind, body, and spirit, and giving you
this galactic love as you release yours,
and the cycle continues on and on...
feel the warmth of love kiss you tenderly,
let it swallow you and hold you tightly, like a cosmic mother.
you’re an infant again... in the arms of something divine,
feeling pure bliss, like happiness is the only emotion that exists.
happiness becomes organic, it is the ultimate source of life...
happiness becomes the light, and combines itself with love,
making the most beautiful offspring of purity and salvation.
Inhale....
Exhale....
you are new, you are love
let it run like a tranquil river from every one of your pours
hear the liquid love follow the current of your mind’s creek..
hold your intention in your heart, and let it radiate
let yourself be light
let yourself be love.
inhale...
exhale...
© 2016 D.M.V
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 3:40 PM UTC
☮ ☮ ☮
**Society needs more Social Justice.
Humanity needs peaceworkers.**
Peace and Social Justice must be promoted aggressively. There are inequities that must be addressed. Power is not equally distributed. Neither are resources or wealth. Neither are poetic gifts or vision equitably distributed. Unearned privilege is rampant. Poetry must confront this global crisis of capitalist exploitation and manipulation. Poetry must speak to the masses. Poetry must radicalize and inform consciousness to new levels of social change. Marginalized citizens must be empowered. All ****** gender-based, racial, religious, age-based, homophobic, xenophobic, and gynophobic bigots must be brought to see in a new way through our poetry. Community building and local empowerment are of the order. Our poetry must be global in scope – yet rooted and grounded in local community empowerment. Selfless acts of service to promote and increase Social Justice are needed. Lives selflessly devoted to establishing social justice are called for. Our poetic lives must be laid on the altar of the dis-enfranchised and unrepresented. We, as consciously aware poets, must advocate and speak out for those who have no voice.
We, as poets, must, through stirring words of Social Justice, embody through our radical verses the burning hope of a just and sustainable future. This future must become increasingly collective as formerly marginalized consumers become empowered community-builders – through our poetry. As poets of the sustainable future we will empower and inform. Our poetry must collectivize, entitle and enslave. We must speak with ONE VOICE: the voice of change and social justice. Our words will rise with healing in their wings and lift whole communities from despair to radicalized self-awareness in communities filled with strident, intolerant and maniacal practitioners of PEACE & SOCIAL JUSTICE. All poets who do not lay their entire creative and lyrical selves on the altar of struggle to bring CHANGE and SOCIAL JUSTICE will be LIQUIDATED by our own EMPOWERED POETRY. IN THE END WE WILL WRITE A PURE POETRY OF SOCIAL CHANGE, ALL IN CAPS, AND THIS POETRY OF SOCIAL JUSTICE AND EMPOWERMENT WILL BE READ OVER THE GRAVES OF ALL SELL-OUT, CORPORATE, FASCIST, SNITCHING, SELFISH, UNEMPOWERED AND UNEMPOWERING TRAITORS AND ENEMIES OF SOCIAL JUSTICE. IN THE END THERE WILL BE NO PUNCTUATION OR EVEN WORDS ONLY PURE IMAGES OF CHANGE + VISIONARY COLLABORATION IN SOCIAL TRANSFORMATION/MAYBE SLASH MARKS/OKAY MAYBE EXCLAMATION POINTS TOO BUT ONLY THOSE !
WHY? BECAUSE THE ONLY GOOD POET IS A LIVING POET WHO HAS LIQUIDATED EVERY FALSE POET NOT COMMITTED TO THE STRUGGLE FOR SOCIAL JUSTICE !
LONG LIVE POETRY IN ACTION THROUGH CHANGE!
WRITE/SPEAK/AGITATE
FOR SOCIAL JUSTICE & EMPOWERMENT !
**POETRY IS STRUGGLE☻
STRUGGLE IS CHANGE☻
CHANGE REQUIRES SOCIAL JUSTICE☻
SOCIAL JUSTICE BRINGS PEACE☻
PEACE BRINGS WAR☻
WAR BRINGS CONFUSION & DEATH☻**
(SO DON’T BE CONFUSED)
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
In the early morning air
between the Londonderry hush of dreams
and the cry of Belfast on a weary morn
Where saddened eyes embody the twilight haze
of long past marches, the bewildering blaze
Of Beltane fires that scorch the hills
The world shudders to the battle cries
where brother to brother the war pitch fills
the saddened visions that over spills
That a Gaelic tongue can curse its own
To the bitter harvest of the Gael
That wipes away the blood dew
from these fields from which it grew
and damns itself in the pain and sorrow
That relives this war on every tomorrow.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 7:21 AM UTC
With nothing to see and nowhere to be,
With no one to be and nowhere to go:
Empty, like the meaning of the spring dew
Dissipating, hundreds of pieces, scattered
Individual voids waiting upon a cue
To become what they embody, fettered.
A field of unquiet quietness, occasionally
interrupted by a single, awful tone.
What existence is this exigence?
Unknowable, unspeakable, unending:
Pain is what it is.
The dew knows not why it's stepped on,
Ending its momentary nature
Only to crop up tomorrow and be none
The foot becoming again its berater.
And so it goes until the summer,
with the cruel months behind it.
The skull becomes and beckons
Back into nihil.
But there's too many things to see, places to be
Too much to be and too many places to go
For to be one is to be many and the dew tires.
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 3:57 PM UTC
Who One eventually becomes
depends heavily upon
the choices One makes-
the passions One nourishes-
the opportunities One pursues-
the perseverance One is willing to embody.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
The mannequin faceless,
Clothed in gold
With hands pandering svelte,
Remains an admired inanimate,
Albeit, atop whispers to a girl,
A 4-foot flower 3-feet my right,
Fretting and stumped;
Extrinsic a label – “undesirable.”
The mannequin faceless,
Her and hollow –
A towering nose above, stands
Opaque ivory, scarred come
Synonymous eyes with a symmetrical
Soul, assumed plastic perfection
And more importantly,
Soon to be sale.
The mannequin faceless
Convinced her new friend,
Her lesser, lopsided,
And natural not-so counterpart
To consume,
“Eat me, “eat me,” “eat it all,”
And then, “binge some more.”
The mannequin faceless
SCREAMS,
“BUY!” Amongst the other torments –
Born both fingers that can’t move and
The thumbs that shuffle, “One’s,”
To the girl that was never,
“Good enough;” so shared the
Tabloid’s mouth.
The mannequin faceless demands
And DEMANDS nothing less than to
Buy, starve, suffer and sacrifice
So that every “broken body,”
May embody polymer, and for a price,
A not so fair trade whilst
Considering old man gold,
The curator of conundrum
And the plastic he’s created.
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
The petals begin to die
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
The heavens start to cry
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
Let out a collective sigh
The drudgery of life
The need to avoid strife
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
It's all in your mind
A fabrication
Imagination
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
In and out
Up and down
They go as they come
They bring gladness as they leave sadness
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
Deathly still
As still as death
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
I've been told to move on
As young and beautiful
As a newborn fawn
As broken and doubtful
As a mind so torn
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
You have left us tonight
You're nowhere in sight
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
The moss spreads
The dust collects
Decrepit but not dead
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
I've been told I'm wasting my life
I've been told to let go
I know it's all true
It's something I must do
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
You left
and now, I'd like to leave too
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
No.
A simple word
A simple meaning
All over my mind
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
I won't let you go
I refuse to do so
You embody life
A life I wish was mine
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
You said goodbye,
not on purpose, of course
But they said goodbye
on purpose.
Who do I believe?
The living or the dead?
Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.
It's the only word in my mind.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 9:57 AM UTC
Your words embody me and melt in such a way I lose all train of thought.
I breathe you in deeply as though you will only last a moment.
Take me, melt me, mold me to the very curve of you.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 3:59 AM UTC
WALLS (Verona)
Mon ami tu vas
where star-crossed hearts' confessions
hides your saint in bricks.
NAPE
Warm whispers of lips
down smooth meadows of your neck,
my familiar bed.
VATTO
Gang signs, ink, and blood
****** in a low beamer
Cool kissing his gun.
BIGOT
Burning up with hate
like an oil spill on one's soul
heartless mouths pollute.
NIJINSKY
So divine such grace
words not made to embody
Ballet when God speaks.
OSMOSIS
Blossoms in winter
bursts of Japanese kisses
how to love haiku.
BLUR
Tears are no longer
loose and quick to disarray
how sight understands.
BARRIER REEF
Great walls dividing
Vast cold deeps from Summer seas
"Hail Metropolis!"
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
pain demands to be felt..
that is why you let break ups feel like shards of glass piercing through your skin,
"i was using you" feel like acid being pumped through your heart ventricles spewing liquid anguish through your veins
you let the memories consume your very existance so all that is left is the skin he once touched, the lips he once kissed and the emotions he still controls..
yes, pain does demand to be felt
but you see, i am pain.
i embody every syllable of that painful word..pain
i am every lie woven intricately into the seams of the pillow used to cushion the blows i inflict.
i leave you trapped in the very depths of your mind, made easy by your naive attempt of grasping onto the words used to lure you in, i love you
i am the whispers of motivation urging you to sniff sniff sniff your way deeper into my domain where you are nothing but a chess piece in a battle not easily won.
i am the deep seated hunger that devours any sign of "happy"..the breaking, smashing, burning of hope
i am a master of deceit, carefully manipulating your thoughts through the simple tug of a string, i am your master.
but I was not born like this,
I became it..so if you really think about it,
I am love, because love was the reason I became pain.
this may be confusing, but once again think about it..
love demands to be felt...
that is why you sit smiling awkwardly at your phone,
why you get butterflies..I mean the whole **** zoo in your stomach when he looks your way,
you let your feelings consume your very existence until all that is left of you is the hand he holds so tight, the hair he moves away from your face and the heart you laid right out for him...
yes, love demands to be felt..
but you see, I once was love..
I embodied every syllable of that beautiful word love
I was the roof over-head when the storms of life came thundering by,
I was anything you needed me to be because at the end of the day I didn't want to be anything if I didn't have you.
So I let myself go, I became my own foe
just so you could have that shoulder, I mean that extra soul to lean on
you kept taking and never giving,
this one sided love became toxic
I took one look at myself and realised that I didn't know who was staring back at me..
much like how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly,
but the reverse, I began to shrink.
the butterflies turned to moths, the smiles to tears and soon enough,
love became pain,
and they both demand to be felt.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 5:17 PM UTC
I want nothing from the world for it owes me nothing
I want only to exist
In the simplicity of the vast wilderness
I want my heart
And my soul to be like the wilderness
Free
Untamed
Wild and alive
I want to be alive everywhere and absorb all the beauty and wonder of it all
Embrace
Embody
Reflect
And return it back to its keeper
The flowers
The ocean
The soil
All of it.
I want to become my mother
The earth.
I want the stars to teach me all they know
I want the sun to wake me
and tell me when I should rest
I want the forest roots to guide me
The birds to sing me the songs
of the world
I want to feel spring water against my skin
I want to feel the unadulterated dirt of the earth against my feet
I want nature to heal me
Detoxify me from mans creations
the material world
I want the wind to tell me her secrets and bring me all of her wisdom
I want all of the universes' intangibilities.
I want to scream.
I want to be anonymous
I want not to be tainted by the small realm that confines me
I want never to forget the scale of the universe and
Remember that I too am a star
A toxic
Intangible
Ball of stardust
A wonder of creation
Floating in a inexhaustible,
eternal sea
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 11:05 PM UTC
Do not fall in love with an artist;
Her mind is both a framework
And a disarray
Of jumbled sentiments.
And once you embed yourself
Within her horizons,
She’ll fathom you into a masterpiece.
She’ll draw the way your lips form words
With mesmerizing hues
And bind your love
Into a collection of poetic utterances
And she’ll make an inconsequential language
Into an unconventional expression.
She’ll pluck strings
To embody the way your chest
Rises against her ear with each breath;
She’ll make you fall in love with creativity.
And one wrong move,
And you’ll become a masterwork in her array.
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 3:51 AM UTC
I-AM-NOT-A-DOG.
Today,
I cut loose from your leash of degrading comments.
My ears have learned to ignore your whistles
and the only thing I am going to fetch
is my dignity.
We all have cracks.
People’s words creep into our most foreign parts
And bother us like gnats in our food.
However,
At a young age my mom welded me by hand.
Sealed off every corner so
Your undignified vernacular wouldn’t disturb my peace.
Your mother must’ve had deleterious effects on you.
She told you that love can only be found through intertwining genitals.
I have iron fists and your forcefulness will not supersede my strength to protect what I own.
Let me tell you sir,
Obeying men is an archaic practice
And I wasn’t born yesterday.
I endure life with fortitude even with the threat of your loaded fist 2 inches from my face.
Your catcalls sting like the hearts of mother’s who have lost their daughter’s to the streets.
I hold my mace like a loaded gun walking in the petrifying night.
Apparently big butts lie, they give you the impression that you can squeeze, but back off the anatomy.
Remember that all women embody beauty and grace, not for you, but for themselves.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
Psychedelic souls
Connecting together, making a flow
Sharing what we know
Creating an awakened show
Gather round and watch the smiles glow
Talk to people and help them grow
Give them something to believe in
Help them stop the constant grievin
People need a break
This world can be hard to take
Show them how happiness feels
Show them that its deeply real
Access the love and higher vibrations
Teach them creativity and concentration
Be the change you wish to see
We have the same purpose, you and me
This worlds a trip and we should treat it as much
Teach people to heal with a gentle touch
Energy flowing through our bodies and all around
Manifest with imagination, art, and sound
Create what we want to exist in 3D
Connecting with higher dimensions is the key
You have everything you need inside
Don't hurt your brain looking far and wide
The collective consciousness is overflowing inspiration
For the world it's an invitation
To express what you see
Keeping your mind open and free
Heal yourself and your energy
Take some supplements and drink some tea
Create a world we don't have to flee
Decalcify your third eye and join me
Embody the expansiveness you can be
They're not coincidences they're synchronicity
Everything is connected here and beyond
Your own body is the magic wand
A conduit of energy and the divine
Anyone can understand what I'm saying if they open their mind
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 1:03 AM UTC
I remember it was cold and quiet. We stood up beneath the scattering stars.
Silently staring at the landscape outspread in front of us, where the mountain touched the sky.
Losing count on the steps taken, you wondered how many dreams townspeople had to reach the summit tower seen from afar;
Spreading lights randomly with no purpose to guide. Little yet arrogant. Like a candlestick being put on the top of the world, accidentally.
Or maybe, incidentally placed to embody the messiah for those who would discover it that way — which might be peculiarly irrational.
Despite the lame fact, it still mesmerized you. I just knew the moment your starry eyes were seen in the dim night. And out of the blue, it captivated me too.
We sneaked from the despotic night, releasing laughs from the deepest and most untouched alley in our lungs. Our fears were freed.
Nonchalant towards the thing ahead of us, even to the time that felt prematurely withered.
"I remember once this priest brought hope to our house, and we just followed him since then", you said. That’s how you told me that miracle wasn’t the thing that kept us living, but hopes that enlightened.
Unyielding lost in the most chaotic ecstasy I have ever encountered. It became that moment when a knock on the door wouldn’t be able to break our reverie.
Modest. Humble.
We then walked unafraid through the open door that led us to the home where the sun rises.
Aug 14, 2022
Aug 14, 2022 at 9:26 AM UTC
They resemble photographs,
And the pages within a book
And the perfume she uses to
Fragrance her skin;
They embody song lyrics,
And the jewellery that adorns her wrists
And the gentle twists of her hair
Secured with a scarlet bow;
They're entwined with her laughter,
And the words she writes on her skin
In ink,
And scrawls eagerly
In the back of an old notebook,
In order to keep herself from
Forgetting.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC