"emptinesses" poems
my replacing takes part by small
designs. displacements accumulate,
until some day you look
out the window or
breathe to check you're still
alive; and, like that,
this weight will be gone.
this burden, effortlessly
dissipating.
this lament reaches from all hollows.
'cause you only reap from seeds
sown, right? it never
rained once.
you know, though,
i, likewise, never threw a single one down,
and instead just bit my tongue,
carrying out schematic emptinesses.
these hollows fill out and
encompass the entire world;
at the focus of everything,
i act out absolutes
and do nothing at all.
these new fields still look
burnt. i still turn soil, hoping for
salvation.
what if it rains?
will i cope?
will i drown?
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 4:51 AM UTC
WARNING: THIS IS EXCEEDINGLY EXPLICIT...
(when for a pinpoint (the exact moment) i am nurses sift home again EKG's
it all went wrong
CT scans on the timeline
i will repeat this then i am whole again
i will defeat this hole again)
when I first
there was had in my stockings caught it something about the small red, i did not believe it. them like cardboard, and ******* now i, caught saw it, my ****** high heels, i did not believe it. them kunts like cardboard as a child i loved
and the great swan **** with a straight razor, hot water, shaving cream
dragging these white are in four directions ******* my *** hows my ***** sheets me with a ***** and licking she said
for another my thick dark ***** juice colors my arms have too many carry the face of emptinesses i **** me *** tongue on shooting that i did not look
regarding my *** me blow jobs with **** *** in attention. cannot help what wet ***** happens in me pink ****** fingers will happen without smiling attention. I ripped dripping my bra off ******* off i do not think so. i do not think so. the moon's concern is with my ***** ******* hard. **** me **** me with the particles of destruction
i **** up. am i my **** a pulse hard and swallowing
lick my ***** loved its perfections **** is my dead self one that **** could is not flat only be perfect such flatness cannot make a heaven i am not ugly. i am even beautiful.
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
Lonely I am, day and night,
With no one left or right...
Lonely is this room -
Silence and echoes doom...
Empty is my soul, my heart,
Empty is the world when we're apart...
And nothing changes its fate;
The Emptinesses are in Equilibrium State...
June 13th, 2010
Jun 18, 2010
Jun 18, 2010 at 4:02 AM UTC
There's always this stage, later on
after you have realized that you
actually can live without
this person, though it is a continuing
source of pain. At this point, everything
you were so scared of saying
for those long many months, somehow
has been said. You both know
how much you mean together, how
your conversations will go, what
the subtext clearly says, though not
said clearly. I know you miss
me, just as much as I continuously
miss you. After some point, I will know
you love me just as much as I
will try to show you how much I love
you, though I didn't believe it before and
I couldn't tell you so for old fears.
At this point, the wound of you
not being here will start to scab
over. The very essence of your unbeing
in my presence will dictate that you
cannot heal me, that I must live
with this pain and your vacancy. I will not
tell you I miss you, taking a knife
to my healing holes. Against my will,
I am pulling back. After the thrill
of "I miss you" has worn off, it only
brings pain with every utterance. I miss
you, I miss you I miss you I
miss you, and you are missing so profoundly
the very air around me sings
of your absence, whistling through emptinesses
that echo the ones inside. But sometimes
I would rather not remember
that you are missing.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
countless emptinesses charactized as virtues
countless directions when we really dont know what to do
abundance of the lack of truth
lack of abundance of much of anything
wells run dry
we are ready
waiting to be filled
pour into us
we will be powerless not to overflow.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
Emptinesses
framed by inequalities
that sew the disaffection,
throw the disenfranchised into
blues sharp relief,
stark contrasts of
black and white
rich and poor
needful and needless cries
There should be no politicking
or filibustered unkempt bluster
in the emptiness of children’s stomachs,
nor grave injury from
the ignorant knuckles of authority
Hunger of all kinds
in guts and minds
brings pain
and a shame to even voice,
for there shouldn’t be cause
to have to
Hunger has a way of spreading
to hearts and minds
and when hurting enough
will drive change
But not alone
The comfortable,
careful, silent,
the full,
must give time,
use voice,
use currency,
and fight
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 6:24 AM UTC