"externals" poems
City lamps in clusters of concrete
On 18th and Sherman street
The cars pass by scanning me
Each unsound engine roaring
Darting pupils
I feel it on my externals
On my lips and phalanges
Intruding glances cascading over
my silhouette
Deja-vu-like resemblances,
strange
Sunken cheeks look bizarre
and blotchy as the socket drains
something toxic to the veins
that's permeated the future in an instant, like a comet,
encandescent and shimmering like a scale, the awareness fades
Like some dreary mirage
I remember those little band aids
Vintage carnival tickets
discarded on the scratchy ground..
Blue-violet bruises
The paradox of pleasure
A vague creature in
it's discomfort
sitting in defiance and
quivering my sentences
It reminded me of those
incandescent bugs that
smush into Chryslers
With a curled lip, bulging eyes
and ******* up tongue...
Antennaes intertwined like
Twizzlers
Making peace with all
that's stung as the
windshield wipers turn on
Some black tar-smack-oil-
******
My generation consists of
inheriting environmental
destruction and mal-parenting
Global warming. Animal extinction.
Polluting the oceans. Deforestation.
Biting shards off night-time to
suffice for the daily pangs
Shuffling the dregs of karma
to grow roots and vines all about the room
It's not Winter yet
Under this morning dew
I envision it in my mind
A crystal ball vision
contorting into smoke
I caught it in my breath
Catatonically hanging
A turtle with it's legs bending toward the sky
Searching for my tribe and a pulse
on this Earth in sentient souls
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC
when you love,
you’re a country,
pierced by daily border
exchanged crossings,
to your closest neighbor
and though,
one rerun~returns home by night,
to your prior defining borderlines,
somehow
the externals of the container has
had its internality's modified
for the lines that prior defined
have altered
by passing the
point of prior,
now by thousands of
tiny holes breaching the
thickened protective lining,
by love punches ‘n kisses of
pinprick punctures
the resistance,
pulverized
<>
you are changed,
new language combos spoken,
embrace another with a
bilingual tonguing,
a real treat
to entreat each other and
that hyphen,
that little tiny
linear
~
punctuation mark is
reflecting your creativity of a
Singular Duality
it is mark that
speaks to a new
U~no individuality,
blended and connected
somehow a duo of
someone’s pulverized lines
forms a single stronger
chord
first a puncture
then a patching
finally
an adhesion pleasuring
and a new working word:
composite
the opposite
of
opposite*
Nov 14, 2024
Nov 14, 2024 at 7:26 AM UTC
*those parts of speech
learned very early
taken for granted
now might serve
to trigger an entry
to Happiness
to Beauty
to Awareness..
subject and object
are the benchmarks
of the dualistic world
and with dissolution
we become Aware..
the object's existence
is our senses
a simple stimulation
and nothing more..
with externals dissolved
we then find
the subject has
no object and so
makes an exit
leaving only That
which we are...*
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
There is a new world out there
For people like u and me
A world where we won't be measured by fickle standards u see
A world where "love" means
Embracing the person whole heartedly
Where different abilities and minds
Melt and mould and become one
Where caring takes a new dimension
Where hope is forever new
Where the sun shines brightly each day
And brings promises anew
Where fighting the world does not drain you out
And you can say what u feel without wondering how u'll be judged
Where u can be childlike in your innocence
And maintain the purity of your emotions.
Where u don't need to twist yourself to fit someone's frame.
And where u can worship the Lord again
Where u can stand tall and proclaim
His love for all to see
And you know you'll be backed by HIM
Where u can trust ur fellow men blindly
Cause the one who sees
Knows your heart and feels
The truth of your words
Where externals fade before his gaze
Where liars need to fear his face.
Such a world beckons
So I say
Do not give up your loving
Do not give up on your friend
Do not try to fit in someone else's mind
Be yourself, your purest self
For that's what u were deigned to be
For If that's not what the Lord intended
Then his saving grace you'll see
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 12:49 AM UTC
Somewhere between cradle and grave.
Where sway is a true Libran.
Weights are shifted
back and forth
to keep a balance.
And I lost mine.
and tho my stance
tilts
as does a tip toe.
As a ****** walk way
over gushing flow.
Where externals
mimic
an outstretched horizon.
I’ll not be propped.
This is me.
This is me here.
This is me there.
Curious…
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
*you ask why I linger here long
and do not return to the centers of power
and human endeavor…
it’s all but a life of conditioning and structures…*
if you ask me,
human enterprise and human life
are tiresome…and mediocre…
it is a life of basics and self-interests
and finger-pointing
and it is all partial and focused
that grapples with ******* of the parts
but misses the whole…
and one never sees the hubris within;
the errors, it seems, are always elsewhere…
but see, there is no change
without the change in oneself
and so it is that I linger here long
to observe and to see within myself
to see within, and so understand…
for within this chaos of one
within one
there is always but a pointing to the externals
and so the world goes on, and has always been
a world of groups built on mutual lies
so one can feel special and chosen and blessed
and recipient of Highest Revelations
within the group
and feel O so right
and feel O so safe
and feel O so true…
there is always but a feeling – but not the thing…
there is but conditioning and a building
and that structure is added to on and on…
and so I linger amongst these mountains
and streams and trees and the open
and I observe these with no preconceptions
and linger in that which comes of no future or past
and I observe myself, my mind, my thoughts
and what it is that is called ‘I’…
and so I linger here long…
Jul 27, 2011
Jul 27, 2011 at 5:55 PM UTC
Literally a perfect situation:
approach the stupid guy.
He's all alone and vulnerable and adorable
but what?
I just let my sorry excuse for confidence
slide away into the back row like the awkward teen I am
lurking, admiring from afar
obsessing like a **** starved weasel
with a pint of bacon fat
until my worry muscles are broken and ripped and sore and bleeding
and my brains must be bashed out with hammers to get rid of the suffering
the stupid, stupid thoughts and self-reproach
worth just measured by a stupid stupid boy's approval
or lack there of of caring.
How cute, my ignorance of importance
my value on externals
and stupid stupid desires
that are never going to happen,
and yes
I am ranting like a little girl in a diary
and yes
I am putting it all out for any unfortunate reader
and yes
I have zero *****
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 8:34 PM UTC
*Wicked wicked wicked my mind
That feels so unkind
Unkind my thoughts
That damage my heart
Damaged my heart that burns my tongue
Burned my tongue that lashes out
More enemies than friends have made I
How trapped I feel inside
The walls and bonds of your presumption
How evil this mind that sways between hate and devotion
How terrible this burden I must bear
Cast on my shoulder
For a fault not mine
Delving deep on those wounds
Which cruel men with their lust inflicted
Broken the tender bow of my spirit
Set me off on a course of anger
Hatred buried so deep beneath
Seething waiting to explode
But what explodes is not me
It’s the anger and the wrong
That should not have been
Where were u when I was abused?
Where were u when as a doormat I was used?
What is it that now can be done?
To right a wrong
To right a spirit that stands forlorn.
Damaged beyond words am I
Damaged in my thinking
Damaged emotions course through my veins
Burning, scalding, bearing pain.
See that wound, that moment, that started it all
You can see for your eyes behold all.
Robbed of innocence
Trapped in blackmail
Jilted love just for gains
No one saw that person beneath
No one saw that crushed soul
No one saw that waif of a girl
Longing, hoping for true love’s gold
Running in directions for a sweet word
Madly following dust for pearls
You saw, u were there
You are here now
To you nothing is hidden
All externals are just veils
Your eyes can rend them all
Your word can heal it all
How hardened am I
Wickedness seeped in every act.
I don’t wanna be like that
I don’t wanna be hated
I don’t want nothing
I want to be free
From this madness overtaking me
Stretch out your hand and calm my soul
Hold my trembling heart in your fold
Show me how things can be right
Only the one who has made me has that sight…*
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
Of what can I control?
What depends on me?
Patient contemplation,
Makes it clear to see.
To toil with externals,
Is priceless time just spent,
Like staring at a clock, but still,
In awe of where the time went.
So let me deal internal.
To what is mine...let me give care.
Let my soul be self sufficient.
In spite of all which it must bear.
Let me be quiet and reflective;
A disciplined citadel.
Write and read and practice,
No passion trite compel.
And even aims that promise despair,
I'll usher right in...if needed to.
For it all leads to my freedom,
And my quest for what is true.
Aug 15, 2010
Aug 15, 2010 at 6:09 PM UTC
***Our minds project and name:
this realization is rumbling
underneath our shadows and struggle..
Is it not amazing
that externals are projections
awaiting..but not long.. for their names
eagerly provided by heady minds..
This realization reverses
our notions..those heady beliefs
of separation as wisely undeniable..
Although the rumbling often seems
fleeting and faint
not reportable in shadowy newsdays
real Happiness is found seeping in...***
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
*in the Rye
where much is
phony..
All the externals
those shells
postures and lies..
The darkness
covered life force..
Dialogue suffers
the desire lost
to honor difference
then to discover
common elevation..
Phony inside
knows phony outside
as with good..
Perspective reigns
Shades inside
shade outside..
This is pain
perhaps birthpain
a new adam
with new
composition...*
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
Mass times acceleration
Disbalance and violation
If I had any, I would use, but
Externals force me to choose.
How far may the rays of light
Travel in the pit of void?
Will their speed exceed indeed
The power of the figures' horde?
Will immortal seeds become of age
Under a brighter star's main stage?
Will their specters match in peace
Or timeframes collide without ease...
I make notes, files, but no coins,
Breaking what's been left to break,
Coining words instead of points
Breathing vacuum, air is fake.
Ordering helps me no more,
Trade hardly yields me any score,
The grid of matter took my dream,
Stole my youth and flawed my piece.
I thought that any knowledge is power,
Now I realize it's like any flower,
Philosophers love and grow it,
Calculators show and throw it.
Beauty, balance, free will
They all are prey to evil.
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 6:20 AM UTC
Reduced to a single point
Within and without I know,
I am but one single speck.
I feel it now in my mind;
My thinking soul.
Not in conventional terms but,
Let my thinking heart guide thee
In understanding me.
Nothing forms
Like air let loose.
We drift, as infinitismal nothings,
Following from within like a painter's brush into reality-
Our own canvas are we.
Superceded by phantoms of ghosts
Ethereal blurs take their geometry,
Exist within A euclidity.
We weave ourselves in the hairs of our god's
Nebulous strands dreaming outwards from the thinking hearts,
The hearts that make us but we form-
This integration of it into nothing
Of nothing... to something.
Spontaneously alive
Digital sparks that programmed their own world's
Existing within limits self imposed.
We perceive from internals to externals
But accepting truths built falsely
They hold, like all Straw houses crumbling and shrinking,
Till they fade inwards, collapsing into reality the painters brush falters.
It cannot go on, it cannot paint finer than its hairs, only grander, out, bigger, falser.
Our eternity is merely a fraction of our own
It extends infinitely we cannot go...
With it.
Within these truths I find myself
With these fundamentals I paint myself into the world
With these dreamlike strands of hair I weave myself.
Into the fabric of your mind, you are part of this now!
You always were, and never will be.
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
In a condescending tone I hear the way you judge my life
At first I want to take offense and give into the strife
Then I take a step back and objectively observe
I realise your the one who's lost you proved it with your words
You asked me shallow questions only focussed on externals
Then judged me based on made up scales that give no weight to the internal
Its proof to me that this same scale you use on your own life
And soon you will not measure up and fall on your own knife
Because you never can be good enough, at least not for forever
Your shiny stainless ego will soon rust from stormy weather
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC
In the internal recovery
externals discover me,
uncover and hover about me,
like angels,
but why would that bother me?
I hear wings that flutter about me,
thought it
could be my heart
but it can't be.
In my mending I am fending off demons.
The angels defend me against those that would send me
screaming back to the pit.
There are bits of me lost,
friends tossed aside and my
memories sometimes
hide far away.
I am spread out quite thin,
I think thin
gets me in and
I am poor, so I'm sure
that helps me a lot.
What did I get from this lifetime as yet,
not understood?
Some bad
some good
If I could remember
I would.
No moral to this tale where morals always failed me and my dreams of dreams derailed me,
when the pious tried to bail me
I said,
'let me go to jail' and
Jail is where I am,
the jail that jails a man
inside himself.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
Stranded I am by this self
Strolling down the shore with my two lone feet,
I count every detail that I see pass on the shore
As it is a companion I seek among every leaving wave.
I scan around me for a sign of friendship
In this crowded beach of families
I stare away from the embarrassment of sitting all alone and thinking aloud to the waves.
I speak to the clouds and
Every other dragonfly
The sticky hot air at the beach accompanies me
And asks me of my life and my dreams!
I wanted to be in this state of complete stillness
Of an unknown pleasure of having nothing to mend and no body to fend
I wanted to know whom I could meet as a prince charming while I was awaiting on a black horse
Awaiting the kindness and the warmth of a human touch
But wrath and pity knocks along.
Pleasing externals and so the internals can survive
Where I have no one to call but everything to hide
I sit under the blanket of the night longing for a night out
To a party or some gathering
but deep, deep, deep have I entered in this whirlpool of loneliness
where being me outside and being alone is gifted by some natural force
Where fear of attention combined with a knot of failure
where love cornered by being cheated upon is a fallacy of thought
where all the monsters are guardian of my heart
and where FAMILY is a feeling which I hear through some sounds in the empty DUST.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC
i figure everything can see me
fluids moving up inside me
it cracks the code inside my atoms
chest is hurting heart is pumping
connect my flesh to the embryo
stitch into my genes
ya know
i wasn't born just yesterday
i was not born just any way
my talents knows it when they sieze it
make ya go ya cant believe it
projected light of consciousness
splits comb-strikes and leads it
have it here inside my pockets
little life and little rockets
pull my glow in my transceiver
data cosmos diamond lockets
redraw my lines in my own dimensions lies a
cruel unjust infinity's just
a tenth of my reality
born of one and two in one
in life we die in death
we shall remain
where the hall's externals walls us back out of a duality
to be a nothing once again
there is no synthesis to my thesis
once was lost but now im easeless
take my own life cuz i own it
cuts a hole into my recess
i am recklessly disurbed at what i am
where im at and im just not quite sick of it yet.
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 5:06 PM UTC
This will probably make you uncomfortable for one reason or another.
Most likely, you'll be ashamed on my behalf
Perhaps angry at me or something I write here
Frustrated with me
Depressed by my outlook, maybe
But I will still share it
Because...I don't know why, really. It's not art. It's just me.
Anyway,
I don't spend much time with people who are really in control of their lives and going in a positive direction
I gravitate toward people like me who just get by based on whatever talent and skill they were born with
Most of them don't do as well as I do in terms of externals, like holding down a good job, some money in the bank, buying a house
Most of them do much better in terms of being okay with themselves
I don't know anyone as unhealthy as me
That really hits me when I have it in front of me
Out of all my friends and people I know, I don't know of anyone with as unhealthy of an internal life as I have
I end up scaring, hurting, or creeping out the people I get closest to
And when my internal belief is that there's something deeply wrong with me, that only confirms what I know to be true
Counseling (every week) is no longer helping, if it ever was
I tossed ****** addiction therapy and recovery a long time ago and I'm not going back, but at least I'm not getting worse to my knowledge. Unless I'm in denial. I am significantly better than I was in the months leading up to tossing "recovery."
Let's face it. I'm obsessed with a girl who is LONG GONE.
I gave up on anything coming from that, but I am obsessed with thoughts about it.
Maybe that means I haven't given up.
I'm pretty sure I have freaked her out a couple ways even though I am not a stalker and haven't done anything that could be called aggressive toward her.
I really don't even write "blunt poetry about love, loss, and loneliness" anymore. I just write **** that passes through me.
I tell people I think I'm unhealthy.
I'm completely sober and I'm seriously considering sleeping on the kitchen floor.
Have you ever been this low?
I'm not this way constantly. But the fact that I'm not consistent just makes me feel unstable.
One minute I'm on 4 dating sites, the next I'm disabling all my accounts and deleting my apps because either a) a girl upset me or b) I feel too unstable to be looking for anything.
Now how about if that girl read this? She'd know she escaped a serious disaster.
And notice how it comes back to her for me. ****** up and I know it because I'm intelligent. But that doesn't fix it.
And I do forget about her sometimes now. I think that is honestly getting better. There, that's my glimmer of hope, tossed you a bone on that one.
Might as well end it on a positive.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 12:49 AM UTC
A Sage ~ like Gods, “watch”
The infinity of worlds arise out of atoms
In the infinite void, and so nothing disturbs the
Peace of his soul.
They (Sages) are unconcerned by mundane affairs,
They spend their time contemplating the infinity
Of space, time and multiple worlds.
A Sage places self within the immutability
Of eternal nature which is independent of time.
A life of virtue consistent with
The will that is in agreement with Nature.
Death and poverty do not cause a Sage sorrow
And praise and good health are unnecessary externals.
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 5:36 PM UTC