"encompassed" poems
In sable darkness and deafening sounds of her bedroom silence,
she found herself aching
in deep cogitation.
The full moons brightness had peered in
through her window pane,
but with its light
encompassed her with defeat
and decay.
Reality had settled in;
as she felt her body slowly submerge,
She knew
she was no longer her own saving grace.
She awoke in a place of death and morbidity,
But awoke in a state of contentment and comfortability.
Her agony remained; as the remembrance of today,
the ideas of what will come tomorrow,
and the hope of assurance to what she forebodes her future to be,
with the life she leads.
At last
the words had finally escaped.
“Bittersweet serenity.”
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
After reading about some tribal warfare in a far away land, I wrote this true story down. Now re-published every year on this day. Seems more appropriate than ever
one July 4th,
many years ago
walking the streets,
of the city of Nice,
situe on the Cote D'azur of France,
on the Mediterranean Sea,
where ships of navies
may safely park their sailors,
sending them ashore for R&R,^
they, leavened to disembark^^
how I came to be there is a
poem for another time
walking the streets,
palm tree resort,
along La Promenade Des Anglais,
coming at me,
Three Sailors,
unmistakably
American
one white,
one black,
one brown from California,
which I believe,
is still part of the USA
how we fell upon each other
in warm embrace,
smiling, bestowing
blessings of grace
not as strangers,
but as fellow signatories
on the Declaration of Independence
brothers,
long lost, reunited,
as if it had been many years,
since we last had our arms entwined,
one family from one far away united place
dialectical differences ignored,
even the wide-eyed 'Bama boy,
totally comprehensible, for on that say,
we spoke a language that
encompassed a single brotherhood,
a common histoire,
all on that
holy day
no tribes in America, no colors,
no religions,
only sisters and brothers-in-arms
I need not choose to believe,
for it is certainty guaranteed,
that should it happen again
twenty years hence,
perhaps with their great grandsons,
my embrace will,
exactly the same be,
for I know it true,
there are
no tribes
in an*
American heart
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 4:40 PM UTC
He came from a land unrefined;
Encompassed by violence, poverty yet possesses clarity of mind.
A mind built from Hardwork and Determination,
A soul inspired by Intrepidation
Freedom, Release and an infectious sense of inner Peace.
They met in a state of flux,
Going, coming, nothing left but to give it up,
So heart broken, she took his hand,
The adventure began on water but would end on land,
Meadows, Beaches, Visions left them speechless.
She saw a flash, a light;
Precautionary measures tested the capacity of his might.
Slow Down! She'd lost sight.
Tried to keep up but her heart said "Flight"!
Escape! Hide from the cruelty clawing from the inside.
Time was chasing, they had to keep up,
He left as she collapsed into the mouth of a half empty cup.
She gobbled up the cup with no thought of tomorrow.
"He is strong, he'll be fine," focus deflected from sorrow.
Regret, Remorse, shall Fate be trusted to run it's course?
Smiles and Mischief were all that could remain,
She slowly began to learn to becloud fruitless pain,
She's walked away from tough stains,
In memory of his arms where enthusiasm never wanes.
Growing, longer, when he returns she shall be stronger.
If Fate knows Love and Love is true,
Fate shall be entrusted to do what it do,
But Fate can be twisted, Fate can be cruel
And the little girl knew the twisted Power of Fate's Rule
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 7:37 AM UTC
what a life it is
to live in love
with an ideal self.
to be in love with one
who doesn't exist,
not even in fiction,
only in the realm of your mind.
what a life it is
to look in the mirror
and feel your soul shatter
but when you look away,
you can pretend you are
the version of you that you see in your head.
I'm not the only one. I know it.
Biographers say that Sylvia Plath was in love with her dream self, encompassed in a strange egotistical fantasy.
I live in that same fantasy.
How do I make fantasy me
the real me?
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 6:55 PM UTC
*with hope and light
beneath enchanted magical trees
turned heavy white
on a river side
of sandy beige
a happy face of golden egg-less yolk
shining in the sky of cyan
to have a sunny day of orange
in the winter of grey
blue sky warming my heart of red
on a cold day
rainbow birds chirping songs of love
silver breeze flowing cold and steady
unable to consume the warmth from my brown eyes
as I go blind
with the light of your pale face
so perfectly encompassed between
the curls of inky black and maroon lace
and your pink smile
adding colour to the blank canvas of my mind
you're so beautiful!
what I see is a wonderful artistry of nature
that is skilfully crafted with perfection
colours and words find difficult to give it expression
how your precious pearls of sapphire
placed gently inside the seashells
that draws me in
& I can't resist to dive within
so all I want is to drown
and be lost in their depths
while I keep looking at you
until the azure ether wraps itself
in a mahogany hue
and the day drapes a coat
of starry dust in coal*
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
They've both had you in ways
That I could only ever dream of having you
They've felt your hands on every inch of their bodies
And have felt the bliss of your lips
They've exchanged all levels of pleasure with you
They've gotten your attention
They've been your favorites
And encompassed your dreams, asleep and awake
As i have to hack and squeeze my way
Just to approach the horizon of your vision
Jealousy isn't the word to describe
The desperate hunger I can't squelch
And the heaviness of my limbs
Being filled with the feeling of insufficiency
As I face the fact that I'll never be what you want
Not nearly enough
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
I never wanted you to be
A picture on a glowing screen
Each word I speak of you could be
The soft words of a eulogy.
I wanted to knife my tongue today
To spit it out and throw away
I crooned your name in gentle lilt
Like a hand trailing over silk.
I thought it would choke me then
And it would drown me once again
I held my breath and really tried
To keep you locked away inside.
Instead the floodgates lost their clasp
And I could only stop and gasp
As it all encompassed me
I sunk down deep beneath the sea.
Ocean eyes I do recall in
Each return in early fall
Holding tight to the belief
In each gold arc, and scarlet leaf...
That my dream would be your dream
Instead of just a memory.
But all that was is nothing now
And all this is will not match how
It could have been, it should have been
And never will it be again.
The dam I built against the dream
Found me today in tiny stream
In rivulets I let you through
The person that I had once knew
I broke the surface to breathe
And felt the moisture take its leave
Pent you up behind the wall
Until the rain decides to fall.
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 10:32 AM UTC
there is something
inexpressibly beautiful
about the world
when the sun begins to rise
and fill the dim sky
with soft rays of light
and only the birds are awake
to sing to you “good morning”
while everyone else
is curled up in their beds
unaware of the magnificence
they’re missing
and everything feels so simple
it’s as if six a.m. is an epiphany
that sparks at your fingertips
and spreads until
you are encompassed entirely
by a feeling of clarity
there is something
inexpressibly beautiful
about being awake to behold
the splendor of this world
while everyone else
is still asleep
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 11:23 AM UTC
Death surrounded me,
But you kept me safe.
Just like the corpses and the earth,
You encompassed me and we
became one.
The moon was high,
As was my spirit.
When your baby blues met my
chocolate browns,
The world disappeared.
The death was present,
But with you I was alive.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 2:04 AM UTC
i bumped into you
at the supermarket
i told you
i ran out of food
you asked
what i was buying
i said
pudding and ramen
you said
i have a healthy diet
i told you
it encompassed all the major food groups
you asked
what the major food groups were
i said
pudding and ramen
you laughed
i laughed
and we tripped
into a kiss
remind me to go
to the supermarket
after you get settled in
at my aprtment
or is it
our apartment?
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 4:48 PM UTC
-SHAME on me-
I should’ve known you weren’t worth trusting
Your bitter apologies meant nothing
You said I was extra ordinary
But it was just another form of hostility
Based solely on your own insecurities
-Shame on YOU-
Corrupting my identity
Making me my own enemy
Just so you could be temporary
Enhanced Pleas of who we’re supposed to be
Opened my eyes to a false reality
Because you said things you didn’t mean
Stitch me back together however you please
Leave me to be a clone of society
An element of conformity
Embodied with empty memories
And I can’t seem to find a remedy
For all the sins I’ve been committing
For all the lies you’ve been spitting
As if they were light casualties
And this is our destiny
The ONLY way it can be
Encompassed with frequent falsities
The truth lies somewhere in between
But honesty is no match to humanity
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 2:13 AM UTC
Nobody ever speaks of
The sadness that can be felt
In your bones
The kind that can be
Encompassed
By your whole being
Nobody ever tells you
How to manage
Feeling like a stranger in your own body
Sometimes
I am a stranger to my own body
Depersonalization
Is a term that
I have come to know all too well
I have come to know
What it's like
To watch life happen
From a distance
To feel
Persistant and constant
Dissociation
Nobody ever told me
About the depression
That can take over your soul
While simultaneously
Forcing you
To watch it happen
Without any ability to stop it
Sometimes I feel as if
I can't feel anything at all
And that in itself
Is truly terrifying
But I am trying my hardest
To take hold of the steering wheel
I refuse
To let it take control
In the past I have
Locked all of the doors to myself
Thinking that
If I was the only inhabitant
Than nothing could get to me
But lately
I've realized
That letting people in
Will not be the downfall of myself
Lately
I've realized
That opening up
Is the key
To finding answers
Is the key
To finding help.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
Wicked nether-land. Nether world, white, askance. Capitulating mangroves, verdant trees spliced with hyperbole, onomatopoeia, and manilla envelopes; her world is stuffed with secrets, she listens to gorillas cracking mussels a kilometer away, near a rill. Never she thought. Nothing that could provide....providence. Mangled heliographs sprayed all over the everywhereworld.
"Don't be S.A.F.E.," she whispered. A bouquet of gorse, cistus, and pimpernels squished in her small fingers. She climbed her way through the pedimented stairway, then collapsing on the porch. Legs spent, and spread out upon the desiccate grayed four by four planks of the portico.
And as time elapses, the shuttering shake of the hemlock, which writhes through her skinny nimble dactyls, upwards straining the heart as its toxic bends appendages- crisp cerise lumens bend on the Titanium White walls, where only shadows bend time. The hour, still nine. Every adornment, furnished with red and its hues. Not purple, periwinkle, or any masked enhancement.
These are the symbols that reticulate splines, that curve temperatures, perverse hemispheres and debunk worlds. Upped antes, verbs that terns flirt worth, birth words. Ooh. Aah. Camera. The forest wraps her in its verdant pasture, where at last the moribund tamarisks disperse.
While at the plateau she is quiet and longing. Arms astride, dangling. Vaunt with highs and bliss- a kiss of withstanding pleasure serves her the cure for a lifetime of whining. This, yesterday where her body rattled through crooked vines. Square ships toasting her vocal melancholy in the sweet-waters of Time. So that all of her ripened limbs could grow, no more sheepishly than the magic she knew as a child. Stress free. First among the Earth-words, verbed-up and made jealous by pronouns that encompassed her joy-brimming hide. Closing down her voice and hugging her from behind.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:44 AM UTC
An ordinary soul encompassed in extraordinary expectations.
Social pressure manifesting itself into anxiety and doubt.
A mechanical mess of cogs and wheels churning out endless streams of mental clout.
Be what I will and do as I may is what I say.
But they say:
Be what we will and do as I do, this is the proper way.
Try not reform or perform to conform is what I say.
But they say:
Follow me through this hollow tree and you will see what I want you to be, this is the proper way
An ordinary soul encompassed in extraordinary expectations,
passed down through electric, media driven sensations of transient satisfaction,
a mechanical mess of wound up plastic toy soldiers marching in circles with rubber souls pointing death dealing cylinders at each others backs.
Be yourself for everyone else is what I say.
But they say:
Be everyone, or else.
Try for progression's sake, be genuine and certainly not fake is what I say
But they say:
Try for regression's sake, be fake and certainly not genuine, this is the proper way.
An ordinary soul encompassed in extraordinary expectations,
disgusted with modern tribulation, choosing self-selected conscious liberation.
A singular, personal declaration toward evolution.
A natural mess of vines and roots reaching below and above producing boundless rivers of truth and love.
This is revolution.
Be one amongst many is what I say.
But they say
Be us. This is the proper way.
Be you, is what I say. This is the proper way.
Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 12:10 PM UTC
Falling,
Falling into the black.
I am encompassed by this darkeness.
It has dimmed the depths of my soul.
I have run,
and the further and further I go
I realize how I am achingly alone.
Fading away
Into the haze of bleakness.
Someone catch me!
I’m falling too fast.
I’m so afraid
That I’m not going to last.
Nov 1, 2022
Nov 1, 2022 at 8:56 PM UTC
Hatred and vengence--my eternal portion
Scarce can endure delay of execution--
Wait with impatient readiness to seize my
Soul in a moment.
****** below Judas; more abhorred than he was,
Who for a few pence sold his holy Master!
Twice betrayed, Jesus me, the last delinquent,
Deems the profanest.
Man disavows, and Deity disowns me:
Hell might afford my miseries a shelter;
Therefore Hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths all
Bolted against me.
Hard lot! encompassed with a thousand dangers;
Weary, faint, trembling with a thousand terrors,
I'm called, if vanquished, to receive a sentence
Worse than Abiram's.
Him the vindictive rod of angry Justice
Sent quick and howling to the centre headlong;
I, fed with judgment, in a fleshy tomb am
Buried above ground.
2.5k
I sit there, my headphones in, volume up
And you dare tell me to turn it down
What you don't understand is that I need this
I need the volume so high that the screaming tangle of my brain is quieted down to a soft hum
So I'm not surrounded by an everlasting chorus of, "You're worthless."
So I'm not completely encompassed by these depressing thoughts
So I'm not breaking down when the cloud gets too heavy
So raindrops do not race down a pale-peach canvas
Reveling in my lips parting to mouth the lyrics written,
Written for somebody else yet they ring with my very soul
Written for everybody else yet they hear nothing
Except the turn of another page, another day, monotonous
An assembly line of nothingness
It's been broken for a while
It's been loaded down with disappointment for a while
You've failed again.
You've failed.
Again.
How dare you tell me to turn the volume down?
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
I'm getting tired of walking into brick walls
Wherever I go. This time when I talked to you
It didn't sting as much because I now know to shower
In acid before we converse. I don't mock you... Ever.
I have never laid a figurative finger on you,
Yet when I open up, even if it's just a small splice
Down the center of my chest, you swat away what I
Have to say like it's nothing but a pest. So, I will humour
You, since the only thing your low opinion of me does
Now is amuse me. I chew on your words, let them cut
The inside of my mouth like knives. Your look, your laugh
Resonate within me until I am thoroughly encompassed
By a magnified mocking so alive I can't tell where that
Image ends and I begin.
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
choo choo
next stop.....perdition
(no, not really...no-one believes this Stygian opacity)
1.
look how Time doth ravage thee
look what it did to thy visage
in smithereens, lies youth
it so artfully takes away
what is held so dear
rivers and streams
valleys and hills
arching to ecstatic heights
plunging to abysmal lows
into the ravine of chance
stirred by the spoon of Time
slowly around the cauldron
brews the self-same mixture
then poured into chasms of forgetfulness
using the eternal sledgehammer
it
smashes the foundation of thought
grinds the nutmeg of speed
pulps the fruit of mentality
slows the pulse of sensation
and pardons none.
2.
what was once sensuous and voluptuous lips
now are merely two dry slits on your face
once stared-into eyeballs, now glass over
vitreous cataracts steadily grow, weed-like
toned into lithe elastic bands now stretch
away into forever, a pale platform to walk on
life's morn is encompassed by years' slanting
clouded and bedimmed by mists of age
butterfly's existence outweighs a man's
by mere night-veiled windowpane of true sight
draw the curtains; close the shutters; screen the eyes
the time has come to shed all blinkers and face the sun.
3.
crimp
sag
limp
drag
mud cracks down a dipping dale
scalding pain sears sore half-foot
yes, time is but a disease
ravaging all
without fear or favour
sunken eyes
slower reflexes
tardier mind
scraggly body
hides not
condescends not
forgets not
the glimmer of ....
a time of ...
4.
cathedral invites the walker in
cool and calm recesses
sit silent
wait....
then they walk in, carrying
one who had but a lucky half-score lot
clear soprano note becomes a rudderless bleat
announcing the folly of stifling ego
now shorn of burning frost of circuitous fervour
beams of mercy cast a final look-see
jump the barriers of
time
to
carry thee off.
pipe organ-stops are pulled out
(art thee ready? platform number 5)
S T, 9 May 2013
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 9:24 AM UTC
phenomenal! vibrant light-helixes of vortexical sound
bivolving sorrow-joy cascades
into motional peace & silent selfhood surrounded.
Threads are coming together
I celebrate the infinite beyond
I know I do not know,
and question-knowing I discern my choice
encompassed ---
live and know the life inside
as what it is and can be;
to live and explore unknown chords
of heartsong cloudscapes; to be sound,
to be consciousness of light; to be
light itself and voidness all potential;
to be love and to love&be-loved;
in a timeless stillness forgotten in its thinking of;
to spiral quietly before an ever-emergent soundfulness--
to be deafened with a clarity of hearing! to drown
in colors blooming
in the dark; to feel the breath of things and taste contentment
pure as quartz in spring water, white sage and myrr.
grounded in a vastness spilling symmetry
this is witnessed by a newly discovered self
now swept away with verdant effulgence
---dispersing unity here,
bringing light to this Whole Now that is,
now... here, is an integral clarity,
a clear laying down of that union--
that metaspeech of truth-dwelling seen,
a resident teaching echoed in every breeze
healing into wholeness giving birth to itself forever:
just now noted.
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 4:38 PM UTC
You need to let the sand move alone
Inside the hourglass,
Instead of shaking it by the rim trying to make time pass.
Impatiently waiting, forcing love to move fast,
Then the glass ends up breaking,
Because you lose your grasp.
And as the glass shatters, and the sand spreads,
You fall to your knees
And try to gather all the shards and it shreds
Your palms and you bleed,
Until you’re almost dead.
You just give up and kick the pieces to the curb,
Lying to yourself that the pain doesn’t hurt.
Really inside your mind you’re debating what hurts most,
Your ****** palms, your broken heart,
Or the fact you let the hourglass go.
You decide on none of the above.
What really pains the soul,
Is the fact you hurt your partner
Who said you both should take it slow.
You didn’t realize the hourglass
Not only affected yourself,
That the effects of selfishness
Will reflect on one’s self,
And your ugliness will be reflected off the glass
Of the hourglass,
And shone in the face of your other half.
Now you’re forced to walk the earth,
As mere halves.
Incomplete hearts victim to the wrath
Of an impatient patient hospitalized in the past.
If you could find all the pieces on the ground,
Rebuild the hourglass and flip it around,
Rewind to the time when happiness encompassed minds,
Everything would be fine, if you could just find the time.
Time is valuable
And your soul has paid the fine.
You can define lost time,
Don’t let lost time define you.
You must defy that fine line
That divides you and your love
Because to lose love is a divine crime
Judged from the one above.
Just remember that the hourglass,
Representing the countdown
To complete, wholly, holy love,
Is not only yours but also your only love’s.
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 1:16 PM UTC
*An unprecedented night with friends.
We were talking about the moon and the stars,
figuring out the constellations
that we were too young for,
and for some reason, love,
we were talking about you instead.
She declared that you've permanently lost
your dear lady, that I personally could not
do without. For some other reason, darling,
I was in awe of your beauty.
However, you were encompassed
in an aura of self-confidence,
and I couldn't believe you all along.
That smile never left your visage,
so I was left wondering how you do it,
making it seem like you've reached salvation easily.
This tear-stained paper I'm writing on
is my heart breaking into pieces for you.
You will always have my condolence,
my skinny love, and my worthwhile silence.
Never have I imagined being distraught this much,
for I am in a state of self-loathing,
despising how I didn't try harder to be
in your company.
To confront you,
and to endlessly love you.
But I'm sorry I never got the chance
to tell you how beautiful of a soul you are.
Maybe someday when you're truly jubilant,
with no fake smiles and no dry tears,
you'd read this poem and perhaps,
you may think of the girl who
let you borrow her pen
but left it with you on purpose
so she'd have a chance of talking to you again,
only to find out that you never gave it back.
Love, it's okay now because I have a wider scope of things,
and you may have been too occupied shedding tears for her
to pay some attention to my green ballpoint pen.
I forgive you.
And I hope you forgave me when I lied to you and smiled,
because in reality,
we are all sad souls with fleeting moments of happiness,
endeavoring to reach solitude,
with neither of us saying what we really mean.
And I guess nobody ever does.*
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 9:19 AM UTC