"externalized" poems
To whom or what do I refer when I use the name "One"?
Is there a recurring character named "One"?
Is it an impersonal pronoun for "you"?
Is it a sort-of metaphysical Unity?
Is it a symbolic, externalized "I"?
Is it that "One" is many things?
Do I know if I know?
No; that is,
I don't know if I know;
while that is not to say
"no"
to any of my prior questions,
I can't truly say
"yes"
to any, either,
for "One"
always seems
to shift,
to me,
and could be
any, all, or none
at any given Time
And so, I suppose,
it is to say: "perhaps One knows"
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 6:44 AM UTC
filled up with enmity coiling up inside
The chest billows up
Thy want to heave it out
Then destined to tranquility
The claws scratch the flesh
Death gnaws on the remnants of longevity
Unless visions have a chest
To burst out into effervescence
Spontaneous sigh is kicked out of your breath
The clavicles sharpen, the eyes ogle ahead
The nothingness dilates
The flicker has no entrance for itself to adumbrate
For utopia has its own gore
To marvel over inside,
The plasters of bliss
Have guffawed over the gullible dusk
The gloom has left with a whisper
A muttering not to be heard
The relief has sewed on flesh
With the clouds coming out of thy outburst
The relief rebirths the serenity
Has been meandered, halted
For thou shed leaves
Making agony to clouds of no return
Utopic defiance,
the idiosyncratic anectodes
Stains of externalized innundation
For the literal existance of hope.
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 7:13 AM UTC
Silence is deafening
Waking from a cacophony of sounds much like "A Day in the Life"
Only to find that silence is greater than any voluminous discord imagined
Feeling like a superhuman, the world is now illuminated
With choirs of percolating atoms spinning
Pure harmonious energy that goes under the human threshold
Silence is actualizing
Awakening to the potentialities and nuances lost in the clutter of prepositions and pronouns
Experiencing how momentous each rise and fall of breath erupts to revitalize the whole world
Perceptions externalized and internalized merge as one truth
Tangibly existing as a universe within a boundless wave of sensations
Silence is beautiful
Silence is breathtaking
Silence is humble
Silence is abundant
Silence is the world
Silence is the body
Silence is the mind
Silence is the soul
Silent I am
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
Were you born to be a boss,
or just work for one?
So lost inside a storm,
but the perfect one.
These verses run,
away from the 1st of months.
Bills are in the way of genuine workless fun,
but when the work is done, I’m left to my devices
Vices like some ****
and everything that seems so **** exciting.
Igniting is the spark of curiosity
my velocity,
has got to be along the lines of something like hyp hop crisy.
Quite possibly,
everything you want to see,
open up your eyes and believe
achieve exactly who you want to be.
Do everything you can,
and he can do the rest.
In the hands of the most high,
if you seek success.
History is written one word at a time,
so I’m sprinting to the finish,
as I’m learning to fly.
People watch you ******* struggle,
start diverting their eyes.
Those claiming that they love you,
hurt the worst when it’s lies...
…no ones perfect, but try.
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 9:49 PM UTC
these lights are fluorescent
or something along those lines
i am not a scientist
but the point is
these lights bring an atmosphere
to the cement tunnels
that can only be described as harsh
and here i sit
soft and warm under the cold beams
feeling all too human
and yet not real enough
as the tips of my toes wriggle
trying to escape the cage of my shoe
and my fingers are typing out words
that have nothing to do with anything
except my inner monologue
which has been externalized
into poetry
and now it is my shield
saying
see? i have feelings
proving that
i am not as cold as these unwavering lights
there is real fire
somewhere within me
and i conduct experiment after experiment
trying to find that spark
and all i end up with
is poetry, pooling navy blue in my cupped palms
as a reminder to myself that
somewhere
deep inside the jail cell
that my ribs create
there might still be a heart
and it might still play some small part
in my life
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Mother may I crawl back inside?
A warm place of nothingness.
A void of remembrance, lack of life.
What future does this path hide?
In isolation and loath for kin, it disgusts me.
We were the spawn of two ruined shells.
Who’s childhood hell could only teach hollowness and disconnect.
I’m sick of being rolled like die.
Like there’s some uncertainty in where we’ll land.
The hand we were cast left an oily darkness no amount of water can wash.
I bounce off life’s surface, and experience things seemingly at random as I fly.
When we stop we will always find one.
Destined to be lonely and hateful like you, and to be confused in the origin of our disposition.
It’s not your fault you lead two souls down the red brick road.
You both thought you could be normal.
Be human.
But you’re nothing, just like he and I.
You both externalized trauma long past, if sympathy ran in the family I’d share some.
We’re all alone, with nothing in common.
I just want the alienation and confusion to end.
The needles that stick in and ******* bend.
Mother?
Oh ******* please.
Mother may I crawl back and die?
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 1:38 AM UTC
One
who is possessive of Love
is nothing shy
of Narcissistic:
for,
what is selfish Love
but externalized vanity?
Love
lets 'as is' be.
Not because it yields or compromises,
but because it knows
that to alter another
for oneself
is a form of vanity.
True Love
is unconditional.
Which, itself, seems uncaring.
But, quite the opposite is true.
You must change yourself instead.
Have the courage to be your own control group.
Otherwise:
get in whichever over-generalized, socially acceptable line
suits you best
and wait your turn
in somebody else's
rigged game.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 3:34 AM UTC
Last year I was inert,
A desert of my own
A planet out of orb
I saw things from a distance
I felt things, only safely
And I only did things
When no one was looking
But I grew, boy, did I grow
Like a ***** breaking forth
From a sidewalk crack
I externalized a long held internal scream
And I let,
Yes, I allowed
Myself to beam
To show the world
The very best and the very worst
Parts of me
These days,
I refuse to feel shame
For the things about me
That are less than
I am broken and beautiful
Incomplete on my own, yet strong
And I refuse to hide myself
In fear of being attacked by an onslaught of criticisms,
Telling me of everything about myself that is wrong
But I choose to take the risk,
Everyday,
To walk out into this world,
Armorless and brave
So maybe I will have the chance
To reach out to an ailing heart,
Like I once had,
And help those hurt people to see that
They are so loved,
By Jesus
And that in Him we are made complete.
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 10:38 PM UTC
stop trying to be a **** poet w a cute rhyme and start writing like some deep, faster-than-light angular gut feeling has struck you so ******* true you've no other choice but to track it down w a derivative but necessary assembly of abstract externalized thoughtscrapers in the vain attempt to capture a mere sliver of it so to remember and summon it come those inevitable dark days which loom ahead, or whatever
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC