"extensively" poems
~
*Hold my hand and persuade the way
tell me all you want to say
~
Whisper softly in my ear,
all those things I want to hear
~
Kiss my lips and touch my skin
bring out passions deep within
~
Draw me close and hold me near
eradicate my pain and fear
~
In the darkness of the night,
shine your beacon, be my light
~
In the luster of the sun,
demonstrate you are the one
~
Offer me wings so I can fly
and I will soar when you're nearby
~
Infilrate my heart, break the wall,
it's time for me to let it fall
~
I've been a prisoner, extensively
Break my chains and set me free
~
Strip me of my armor tight
this time I won't put up a fight
~
Release my soul held deep within
For you’re in my heart where love begins*
~
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 9:03 AM UTC
Albert had an ARTHRITIC knee
which gave him curry
The core of a BOIL is oft hard
to extract
Yesterday June experienced
a server stomach CRAMP
Too much dry weather
can cause the outer DERMAL layer to peel
Never read in a poorly lit room
for you'll have EYE strain
After eating spicy pickles
dad had bad FLATULENCE
Some twenty eight years ago
my friend Helen had her GALLBLADDER removed
They say that a glass of water
will stop HICCUPS
From end to end
our INTESTINAL tract is thirty foot long
On Sunday afternoon John
broke his JAW playing football
Some people have
very boney KNUCKLES
One of my work colleagues
is prone to getting LARYNGITIS
Colin suffers terribly
with MIGRAINE headaches
Sometimes people tend
to endlessly NAVAL gaze
A woman's OVARIES need to be checked
on a regular basis for any abnormalities
The PANCREAS secrets a hormone
known as insulin
QUININE once was extensively used
in the treatment of Malaria
Since my sister has put on weight
she cannot find her RIBS
The STIRRUP bone lies
within one's ear
Dan Aykroyd the famous comic star
has webbed TOES
Should you bump your ULNA bone
it may give you reason to groan
The VARICOSE VEINS is great aunt Ruby's legs
were very pronounced
Does anyone know of a good remedy
for unsightly WARTS
At our local hospital
we have an antiquated X-RAY machine
As tiredness and weariness sets in
one YAWNS quite a lot
****** ZOSTER can make
a person constantly itch
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
As I go to sleep
Dreams come knocking
My subconscious mind
In a rendezvous with me
Am I asleep?
The REM phase kicks in
What do I want to view?
I do not have a choice
I am just a spectator
For another movie
Do I know the cast or crew?
Is it a blockbuster or horror movie?
The conclusion is inconclusive
I may not be a protagonist
Maybe a figment of my imagination
Or, a vivid description of my days events
It requires psychoanalysis
My subconscious mind is in control
Why can’t I have control?
It’s not within my control
I am asleep and my mind is awake
Freud wrote extensively about it-
In the ‘Interpretation of Dreams’
But still, outside our realm of understanding
The symbols and motifs can give clue
Ancient cultures have recorded on clay tablets
But we may not be ever sure
Or maybe the soul is guided somewhere
Or it could be our inner desires
Maybe it’s an unknown world
Where we go out to venture
Let there be beautiful dreams
And dreams that inspire
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
A little bag of bones and ***** skin crawls lackadaisically,
Looking every inch like a moving mass of biltong,
With one arm weakly clasped on the protruding belly,
Looks for somewhere to lie,
Some water tank explodes from inside of her,
Writhes in unimaginable agony,
Screams the screams of death,
Spreads her bony legs sickly,
Out comes an object,
Yes, a baby is born,
In extreme poverty,
It cries and cries,
The shallow cries of a newcomer,
It cries the cries of not being well,
It opens its tiny eyes to a new world,
A world extensively pregnant of poverty,
It dies in the weak sickly mother’s arms,
Veins-wrapped boney powerless arms,
The death of a missed call desperately wanted,
Ended before it even started,
In extreme poverty, it dies,
Just like it was born,
It is eaten by starving dogs,
Dogs in extreme poverty,
Perfunctorily torn apart like a rag doll,
As the mother helplessly watches,
Too weak to do anything,
Born and died in poverty.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 7:34 AM UTC
covered in flies only the letters KYLIN ILLE were seen. ripped corners of grease, caved in drooping. the way the ants ran, weak to the prophesied speaker. gathered around the mushed manifesto, soaking extensively in the intrigue of carelessness. Ravishing.
Only by the absence of thought could I stumble onto the moments before the drop off. a blurred glance at the road, a swipe of unclean against deep blue. easy strides and a weighted spine. in the vacancy of worries a quick glare to the sun, a double checking of unexpected, brisk anger.
Your slip n slide fingers, loud mouth cowards. faltering in the responsibility of a finished task.
Down dipped merry words of toxic proclamation, viewed by your carefree t-shirt, openly believing it has all the time in the world before it splats against the static concrete
and spoils
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 5:48 PM UTC
So you think you are a master of techniques of persuasion?
You shallow pips-squeak, mediocrity is your mastery
the obsequious hoi polloi that surround you are the pitiable averageness of conciliation
Sophistry and subterfuge are your game of compromised facts
syllogistic arithmetic conceptualizing doesn't make anything so
your addition is flawed by your bungled bombast of banality and guile
fortunately for you, your crowd will never study logic
fortunately for you semi-literacy is de rigueur
You pompous swollen grandiose mass of hyperbolic gas
Fear is what you offer, lies are what you sell
your rhetorical flourish is as the stench of a waste dump
fetid, corpulent, fallow and febrile
toxic
half-truths, innuendos, ambiguities, conjecture and asinine aspersions comprise your specious fare,
fostering rumours, manipulating facts, you are the purported Biblical brood of vipers so extensively reviled against
Your relevancy is attributable to the dull stupidity so profusely prevalent today
Your "success" is the stuff of taint and treachery
You'll probably choke to death on a stuck piece of poorly masticated flesh
so appropriate and befitting the demise of a professional liar
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
AMERICA, THE BEAUTIFUL?
Were you aware that our nation opposed Haiti's revolution for democracy in the early 1800s; that our nation's war against Mexico that began in 1846 resulted in our taking half of Mexico for ourselves; that our nation defeated Spain ostensibly to liberate Cuba, but actually established a military base on the island and furtively gained de facto control of its puppet government; that our nation seized Puerto Rico, Hawaii, and Guam; that our nation had fought a brutal war to subjugate the Phillipines; that our nation had opened Japan for trade with us with threats and gunboats; that our nation created an "Open Door" policy with China to exploit it economically; that our nation engineered a revolution against Colombia to create the nation of Panama so we could build the canal through it; that our nation sent 5,000 Marines in 1926 to Nicaragua to counter their democratic revolution; that our nation in 1916 intervened in the Dominican Republic for the fourth time; that our nation in 1915 intervened in Haiti for the second time, and so on. Imperialism, not democracy, steered our nation's decisions and movements.
Did any of you learn about, let alone study extensively, any of these flagitious Ameican acts and policies as you sat and squirmed in your high school American history class? My surmise is that you did not. But I bet you were required in at least one of your classrooms sometime between 1st and 12th grade to stand at attention, as it were, and recite the Pledge of Allegiance as you saluted the flag in the corner. My riposte: What does it matter if our flags are waving, if our spirits are flagging?
Epilogue: Most importantly, never forget that it was the two evils of slavery and genocide that propelled our nation into what once was the most influential nation on Earth.
Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
Jun 26, 2020
Jun 26, 2020 at 8:52 PM UTC
I know myself better than you.
In my heart there is a banshee waiting to drown themselves on the shores of a beach covered in discarded glass.
Her body ragged, bruised, and gaunt in every view.
She’s sharp and harsh with every cut that may pass.
Her hair obscures her eyes with a taupe wash of strands.
She pierces into the tiny drums with a venom only meant to break my spirit and erode past the bones.
Into my soul she will cut with those talons on her hands.
I can’t progress without her because she is my cornerstone.
My foundation would collapse without her haunting inside.
She’s seen my cracks and my missing parts.
Instead of leaving me numb she waters my plants.
Together we craft love and we create art.
She raised the goblin in my head to laugh and dance.
He leads us through her pain.
It’s something that helps me smile no matter how heavy the rain.
He swallows the flames we light each day or eliminates the obstacles in our way.
His skin so full and flushed;
It contrasts so greatly with her hair unbrushed.
His eyes so clear, bright, and colorful.
I can feel the joy radiate so extensively.
What he gives so soft like the silky breeze she echoes back with a call so guttural.
I always valued him more so selfishly.
There would be no him without her.
There would be no parts in me without the parts I don’t prefer.
So before you tell me that I’m intense or too much;
I hope you see how important they both are inside.
They are more than the things you can see or touch.
They are every laugh that I’ve had or every tear that I’ve cried.
I don’t need you to believe that I am the right amount between too much and just enough for you.
I believe in my own beauty and wholeness; we all do.
Aug 9, 2022
Aug 9, 2022 at 8:29 PM UTC
Women
are not mysterious.
We are not shrouded
in cloaks made from the night sky.
We are not anomalies
or irregularities in the data.
Our nature has been hidden
from men, by men.
We have not been studied;
Not extensively, thoroughly, over centuries.
Not the way men have been, either.
There was no equal footing in
analyses.
Women were test subjects, when men were patients.
When we were "relevant" at all.
This pattern literally kills us quicker.
In medicine, and love.
In the office and the bedroom.
In the workshop and the nursery.
In the kitchen.
In the kitchen.
Some food for your soul:
Everyone is magical.
You don't need a pointy hat and a ******
Everyone is intellectual.
You don't need spectacles, white skin, or a *****
Everyone is environmental.
Just go outside.
You just need to be you.
Subscribing to the binary
and rejecting it completely:
One ties your hands,
the other your feet.
Be all the parts of you. Then you can feel
Whole.
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 11:30 PM UTC
too much interference
has been extensively run
by those who hold
the kingmaker's gun
as a consequence
of this kind of thing
the democratic process
is under a clouded ring
the flow of votes
which were meant
for the out in front candidate
got subverted somewhere
in the ballot box's victory pate
foreign countries meddling
with other country's domestic autonomy
so the results of elections
will satisfy their sovereignty
transgressors are employing
their technics from nations far away
to determine who'll wear
a crowning array
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
of course i left the shit-holes traumatised,
if i didn't read extensively i'd be
stuck in some slum for immigrants -
i mean, who, in, their, right, frame, of, mind
would teach children the basis
of abortion, among lessons about sniffing
glue (a practice in the Ukraine)
as if the 1960s psychedelic revolution never
took place? only the catholic church,
which loves the ****** of a John Smith...
i might as well be listening to Billy Joel
rolling a ****** Jesus... **** off...
take your little school while i learn
from the stoic Marcus Aurelius... seriously
Ben Hur und Aesop to you too! go on grovel
on your message: gehen nord...
yeah, because the romans were evil to incorporate
Judea into its pond empire...
the north men clashed with the jews in the Holocaust;
head north jesus said... so they headed in fakes...
polnisch hebräisch: Jiddisch Yiddish Jesus Jehovah
the tetragrammaton, ********
like they built the ******* pyramids...
sheep, sheep, sheep; i do better drumming
for the rhythm guitars than anyone,
esp. Billy on the MTV single hit about Australian
bushfire and a long list of names with rock around
the clock of Bill Haley & His Comets and oh ****** days
on the McDonald boulevard.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
Why Angels fall
Awakened by an eerie dream
Of weary angels with tattered wings
Their song was woeful and it broke my heart
I asked them if they knew the part
where I alone lived through hell
The angel closest to me sighed,
and then began to yell
“Dear child don’t be selfish! life’s not always about you.”
“You think we left you all alone; yet this simply is not true.”
Another spoke much quieter, she said,
“I beg your pardon,”
“You’ve had the best protecting you,
Hand plucked, from heavens garden.”
My response was if that is true then please explain,
how each of them were able
The youngest one emerged just then
from underneath my table,
He was a child of maybe ten
I wondered how he died,
With tears falling from his eyes he whispered
“we have tried,”
Timidly he approached me,
a tarnished halo on his head
Then nearly imperceptibly, the youngest angel said,
“We were beaten quite extensively,
and for a long, long time”
“Our wings you see are tattered now;
and we need our wings to fly,
It’s hard to sit and listen to all that they’d endured
I realized right then how badly my vision was obscured.
An older angel shuffled towards me,
with no wings at all
I can’t express how bad it feels
to have made these angels fall.
while looking deep into my soul, he struggled to convey
“The demons were a burden, sure
though they’re all gone today.”
“ Sadly, the only one unconquered,
your worst nemesis, is you,”
We’ve come bearing hope, perhaps that you‘d know what to do
To slay the beast you’re on your own;
I heard them loud and clear
“I’m sorry,”
I said loudly, to be sure they each could hear
The beast in there’s enormous
and nastier than me
I promised them I’d do my best,
though surely they could see
That I was no contender;
his wrath he will reign down
Then gracefully a girl approached me
wearing a flowing gown
Into my ear she whispered,
a message that was sent from above
“All you need is in your heart
the most powerful weapons love.”
Heidi Shavill 2013
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 7:52 AM UTC
Absolutely and without a doubt she is the
Best thing that ever happened me. She strode
Casually and awkwardly into my life, in the process
Defining for me the until-then
Ever-changing parameters of what I wanted.
**** I can’t get out of my mind this blue eyed
Goddess of a girl who is always
Hoping for something more.
I love her so much and yet I have a habit of playing practical
Jokes to hide how much the distance is
Killing me.
Looking at us, you would never know we’ve spent
More months apart than we had together.
Never did I think that she would be The
One; that love would be so easy; that she would be so
Perfect.
Questions ricochet around the mazes of her mind, she examines the world extensively,
Riveting anyone who takes the time to listen to her discoveries.
Sassy, **** and smart, she’s got everything and
To me she is everything.
Ubiquitous, there is nothing that doesn’t make me think of this girl, life itself serving as a constant
Validation that she exists- that she is not too good to be true.
While the earth rockets its way through space it’s as if
Xanthan gum holds us together, no matter how far apart you
Yank us, we’re stuck like glue. I could talk about her forever, literally
Zillions of words could be said about this wonder of a woman who will never cease to be
The alphabet spelling out the rhythm of my heart.
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 6:39 PM UTC
Default African,
Yes I am,
And a disgrace for that matter,
Yet African with Katekism,
I am supposed to be,
Come rain, sunshine or high waters,
I have betrayed you Africa,
I have 'back-stabbed' you in the face,
And spit rotten phlegm in the wound,
Giant mother,
With this badge of slavery I now proudly wear,
**** me.
Never have I washed my father, Or mother,
Never have I washed my grandfather or grandmother,
Neither of these have I ever dared looking after,
Yet today,
I assume total custodianship and curator-ship,
I take care of some grandfather and grandmother,
Somebody's father,
Somebody's mother,
Somebody's grandfather,
Somebody's grandmother.
Only yesterday I was told,
Your father and mother passed away last year,
And so did your brothers and sisters,
And they were all buried like dogs,
Their burials were the talk of town,
How could you let that happen,
How could you,
And I am these enermies' comfortable door mate.
My grandfathers were colonised,
Because of our rich land,
And now I have been extensively colonised,
Because of their pound,
Because of wanting to be a Westerner – overseas,
Away from you,
Continent of respect and dignity,
Continent of dance and song,
A continent pregnant with untold tales.
My sick mind has been colonised,
Graduating me into a nefarious modern commercial slave,
Just but an echo of an old tune,
A worse slave than my ancestor,
The Kunta Kintes,
I am a cheap voluntary slave,
Who has been gratuitously deserted by his values,
The African values.
I stand accused before myself,
I am a cumbrous culpable default African,
An African who has lost his ebullient Africanness,
A charlatan ********** African on a detour,
A dismantled, shameless self destroyed pimple,
A nauseating counterfeit second hand African,
An extraneous stain on Africa's underwear,
I am of as much value to Africa,
As is an over- used ****** to a filthy growth point **********
Regrettably, that is the African I have become.
How I wish I washed my father and mother,
How I wish I washed my grandparents,
How I wish I took care of them,
The wish is killing me badly,
I may as I have run away from you Africa,
But never from Africanness,
Litres of your blood flows in body pipes,
I am because you are,
I am a default African.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 8:01 AM UTC
I eagerly await another day of attempting to meet new people.
Students amble through our campus, up and down the hill,
Listening to music, staring at the ground, or caught up in their head,
Past a new potential friend: me.
I’ve got my friends, ones of the highest quality,
In the city, just half an hour north of me.
I don’t see them much, though, and I have no way to leave.
We can’t speak much, either; they’ve got jobs and loves and lives.
So, to maximize my social potential, I put myself to work.
I’ve mastered the art and science alike of socializing;
“Use this register”; “smile at this distance”; “speak to listen, don’t wait to talk”.
Studying it all extensively to figure out what’s best.
They’re everywhere, I hear, in the dozens, maybe hundreds.
Folks just like me: trying to overcome the awkward and build a bond.
So where are they all, and why do my paintings remain unseen?
Why do my endless chemistry attempts produce no reaction?
Well, a girl said “hello” in the stairwell as I headed for my dorm.
She smiled, seeming to be one of few to acknowledge my attempts.
Just a friendly gesture, sure, yet I think of it often, her unaware of its value.
I cross paths with many daily, yet I’ve seen no interaction like it since.
I let my confidence carry me toward new opportunities and situations I desire,
Yet, whenever I go to approach them, something nags at me.
A hand that pulls me back; a wall that stops me in my tracks.
It’s Anxiety, and he’s back, worse than ever.
Within this conundrum lies a great irony; a twist that tears at my conscience.
The closer I get to making friends, the tighter Anxiety’s grasp grips me.
“No, what if your words are taken wrong?”. “The bond won’t last.” “...But your eating…”
The reward, even if achieved, seems not to be without caveats, he claims.
He’s right; at a distance, I am safe; nobody can see me struggle to eat,
Yet this sentences me to suffer the animosity of my esophagus in solitude.
I am shielded from criticism, watchful eyes, and the projections of my mind,
Yet I am my most isolated in the most social of the places I’ve ever lived.
So, I eagerly await that new day of attempting to meet new people.
Fellow loners who walk ‘cross pathways, through buildings, and to their dorms.
Cradling their digital safety net in-hand, perhaps fearing what I fear,
Past their new potential friend.
Jan 31, 2025
Jan 31, 2025 at 8:41 PM UTC
1. When you first looked at me like I was a rare gem, I saw your eyes glisten like the ocean when the Sun at sunrise hits it. I fell in love with you 30 seconds after you told me I was "beautiful"
2. The first time we kissed I swore to God it felt like a dream. All my nightmares left me and I was somewhere over the horizon with clouds on my mind and you in my veins. I tasted you for the next several weeks, I never kissed your lips again after that first time.
3. I thought that once you see someone naked you see them extensively and into their soul. When I touched your paled skin I felt like an astronaut and explored your skin like Armstrong on the moon. I've never witnessed something so beautiful and lovely. But you were the moon who never fully showed her face. I realized I should've listened in astronomy class.
4. You wrote pieces inside my rib cage and opened a new chapter inside me. Helping me realize I wasn't halfway near to where I needed to be.
5. I fell in love with the idea of you.
5. I fell in love with the idea of you.
5. I fell in love with you.
6. It took me over a month to come to the conclusion that I loved you.
7. I still love you.
8. I don't know where you are, or how you've been. You severed our way of communicating and I am so so lost without you.
9. Time has a way of putting things in order, but what do I do if the hands on the clock have developed arthritis and I am still forgetting memories. I am losing my memory. Sometimes I recall half of one, and pick up the ending of another, what does it mean?
10. I still love you.
10. I miss you.
10. I think I miss you more than I love you.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
the soles of my shoes
kiss the rain-soaked
cement and torn leaves
leading up to my
building
i look up
regarding the roof that
welcomed your keys
that day when sun
and anticipation
were abundant
some parts of me know logic—
they studied it extensively
with a focus in authenticity
but others, little sparks,
break off
with different intentions
they are pulled to
my magnetic heart
infusing me with
romantic could-have-beens,
theatric tragedies
and tortured visions
i imagine
in the distance i see you
running
full speed
towards me
but wait
this would never happen
you would never run
you would come close
but ultimately you could not
pick up your pace
for fear
of falling
your fist opens and
dried yellow roses
are furiously
released behind you
can you see me
from there?
the best parts?
not the mundane
humdrum puttering
can you see my intent?
but then
the closer i get
the more out of focus
you seem
and i question
it all
question myself
things are not
black and white
and these shades
keep expanding,
fusing
so perhaps we will glimpse
each other another day
from behind our
electric fences
Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 12:24 AM UTC
Everyone that has ever said that they love me
All those who've mentioned that I'm their one and only
That their desire is to be with me, hand in hand for our eternity
All those who've told me that they care about me deeply
But have otherwise only ever proven to be phony
Compassion is something never aloud to me
History is rewritten by present and past company
Because when it comes down to the nitty gritty
I'm just a stepping stone obviously
I mean hell, just look at my track record then back at me
Don't even need a degree in forensic diplomacy
Actions speak loudly
Leaving me stuck in an unwanted and completely unnecessary purgatory
But no one cares about a no guts, no glory type story
No one cares how their actions have affected my energy
Turning me, molding me into the evil reflection that won't stop staring back at me
All sides have proven extensively that I am unworthy of being wanted, forget loving unconditionally
All I've ever wanted was to be somebody's somebody
But everybody says the same thing to me openly
No friendly faces and behind their smiles is a judgement and verdict of guilty
So I struggle with the fact that somehow they all agree
If the problem isn't me it at least resides in me
I've got a penny, two maybe,
We'll find the appropriate line to walk eventually
I just hope there'll be someone left standing next to me
Because an eternity is a long time to spend lonely
©2024
Jun 8, 2024
Jun 8, 2024 at 2:09 AM UTC
You will never know it
Cause I will never show it
I can never point my affection
In your direction
For my own, but mostly your protection
And it breaks my heart
As thoughts of you and I break apart
It was nice to think of
It was even better to dream of,
but now it just floats down a stream of,
your tears, your fears, the darkness under unlit chandeliers
So I will never show it
So you will never know it
How I truly feel...
I know beautiful places we could have gone
I would have written you the most beautiful songs,
but I'm no faker
I'm a heart breaker
and a mistake maker
I won't speak to extensively
I'll just leave it at this, your sensitivity
Could never handle my intensity
So I will never show how I truly feel
So you will never know how I truly feel
Cause your heart I could never break or steal
-J.A.M
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 10:04 PM UTC
Stifling sentences from mind to pen to paper
Blundering from word to word
Forcing friend and foe to collaborate to hold together,
hand in hand a story to be told
But sometimes that art, those wells, grow old
So I dig and I dig for a fountain to come forth
And with it the words with which to refresh both mind and soul
A laborious task, too large to ask
Of one who isn't entirely mad
But no need for worry because I am that
I'll find the fountain of words.
Elusive, exclusive, entirely too much
A passionate flow, a particular touch
Extensively existing in the minds of those persisting
To indulge in the sweet words that flow from mind to pen to paper
To taste and sample the selected assortment
Fastidiously arranged as if awaiting atonement
Expressions from the fountain I've found it.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
Betrayal.
That's where it began.
I felt my womb retract deep within my being.
There was a tie between this and my heart, although broken, this I knew.
My heart became overcome with pain, fear, disbelief.
I felt it stop repeatedly.
Beats irregular.
Stunted.
Deafening.
Crumbling into a heap on the grass I cradled my womb as I rocked back and forth, hoping this may stop the pain and retching occurring from within.
Time and space became distorted.
Sound too.
Everything within was shattered.
My spirit was broken.
My skin crawling with terror at the mere fact of my deepest fears now occurring before my eyes.
My physical being attempted to expel the trauma through emesis.
Wailing as an attempt to free the terminal despair.
This was unsuccessful.
I have never felt my eyes flow so extensively in such a small amount of time.
No matter what I done, I was left in a torturous state of hysteria.
How could he rip my heart, womb, soul and trust apart.
Everything I gave.
Everything he said.
Everything we made.
Gone.
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 4:32 PM UTC
Welcome to Life.
We hope you'll be staying with us extensively.
In order to enjoy your stay to the fullest, we recommend:
making difficult choices,
taking risks,
and doing whatever it takes to check out happy,
regardless of what other people may say.
But please, don't steal the towels.
You can't take them with you anyway.
Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010 at 7:59 PM UTC
I push the revolving glass door
Shuffling almost reverently with it's turn
A pilgrim to the written word, I am entering
The church of human consciousness.
The greatest minds sit here with some
That came in through the back door of
Specialist interest or just plain bizarre.
Alphabetical order belies the years that separate
These authors, some rubbing shoulders with giants
Who have barely been alive long enough to tell
Of real experience, then there are those who have
Stood the test of time, decorating bookshelves
In homes that have never read them, they just
Fulfil their reputation as if by osmosis bringing
An intellectual vibe to the coffee table and
Into the very fabric of the space occupied.
They are all here hiding behind their spines
Luring you with interesting fonts, bright colours
Like jpegs on a contact sheet waiting judgement,
Wanting be taken down and become your big picture
"We have made it, our voices have been heard,
All it takes is imagination to release us within the mind
Your images our words, we can make a movie together."
But I have been spotted, "Whatcha looking at punk
Think you've got what it takes to sit with the likes of us,
Don't go reading me and plagiarizing my well worn
Extensively researched mumbo jumbo clap trap,
So you can call me one of your influences on your CV,
Using my name to make you seem intellectual
Look around, how many do you think didn't make it."
I have gazed too long into the abyss and the abyss
Has gazed back into me, how can I claim to have
Any more to say than the greatest minds on earth
And yet, with pure heart my trembling hand hovers
Over the letters of my qwerty keyboard, pressing
The shift key as if in defiance, identical words,
Just not necessarily with the same meaning.
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 7:36 AM UTC
They think I write because I'm feeling emotional.
Dear me.
I wish I was emotional.
But it's the opposite, really.
I write because I feel nothing.
And feeling nothing means feeling a dull thirst.
I thirst for productivity.
I thirst for activity.
I thirst for the passion long gone.
So I wring my hollow heart out
for any inspiration
and whatever drips from it
I maximize fully,
What little gasoline remains from it I use extensively.
I strike a match
and burn everything
as much as I can,
Because I know it's nonrenewable
And I have to hoard ideas from it while stocks last, use it until the embers burn out.
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 9:15 AM UTC
Feeling like Diogenes,
exhausted from extensively searching for an honest man,
a Cynic Philosopher,
with an astonishment for that which is the common man,
which has him hiding way all disgruntled and,
trying to find a way to rewrite regrets and make amends,
by writing amends,
because I’m not fooled by the Commoners sins,
see the opulence on display doesn’t fool me a bit,
opulence is actually a not so thinly disguised belligerence,
actually opulence is belligerence,
most modern day luxuries are all worthless,
most people are too thick to admit this,
but we all know there may not be a higher purpose,
luckily the lethargics are too lazy for skullduggery,
that’s why to this literature I’m in service,
only two I’m loyal to are Legits an literature,
because honestly I don’t feel anyone else deserves bliss,
especially when all these luxuries are actually worthless,
while poems are praised and paintings are appraised priceless,
and when I receive acclaim and praise for these verses,
I often get awkwardly shy & don't reply because I don’t think I’m worth it,
makes me want to flee and retreat to the words,
or go live in a barrel like Diogenes,
because we all die that can’t be denied,
but we don’t all really live life let God be my witness,
we all die,
but we all don’t live again,
though from what I write,
I live forever through this pen,
and until then I will ponder,
as I wander in wonder on the streets I am in,
searching likely fruitlessly,
for that mythical creature, The Honest Man.
∆ LaLux ∆
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Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 4:33 PM UTC