"extroversion" poems
Its interesting to be in a home so different than mine. A home where almost always two people at least are in the living room, bonding. My family I love, but we are always in our respective corners; father in the basement, brother in his room, mother in the living space, and I around randomly, uncertain where and who to belong with.
This weekend I visit Hockey House, the affectionate name I'm giving my boyfriend's home. I mean it full of affection, because they are brought together by movies and food and especially hockey.
In my home we are only brought together by food and then we run to the hills for our alone time. Very odd entirely, because of the extroversion holding my heart.
I guess as I grow, I find a disconnect with the family who is so different from me. My mother, though the easiest to be with, can be a staunch, stubborn hypocrite when it comes to all things social. My father is a determined conservative who opposes all I believe in. Brother is being molded into the man my father wants as his son, which is slowly distancing me from him.
When I'm home, I'm a repressed me, who keeps her tongue latched inside her mouth, and keeps her head down as to not get attacked. Even the natural peanut butter I asked for became a battlefield of who was right and who was wrong, not just a happy cheer for me being healthier.
Its odd in a house I've only been twice I can be less afraid than in my own home. I guess things change when you become the person you want to be instead of the adult your parents want to be proud of.
Maybe its easier here because I care less if they judge me, while my parents judgment terrifies me. Parents tend to be scary gods who rule your life, and to let them topple in your eyes is something all more traumatizing to watch.
I still love my parents, as children do, but there's a disconnect between who we are that cannot be passed.
Love can exist everywhere, but it cannot transcend all obstacles, and that, truly, is what terrifies me most.
I never want to lose my parents, but I cannot lose myself either.
Only time will tell, and I guess I'll just enjoy college and my times at Hockey House.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 7:01 PM UTC
extroversion and furtherment
of inner realism.
left to drum
right on the funk
flowing, growing
in supplies
and in the eyes;
straight
to the soul
and back up the brain
for interpretation;
annihilation
of any idea
left overlooked,
and now hooked
on something else -
internal shift
in perception,
through productivity,
and out of longevity
this shall rise.
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
Fire burning, logs marching
A path daunting, ranting taunts
Chanting seamed Arabic hymns
Chargrilled silky toned offerings
The exquisite yurt tent warm
Enclosed in ethnic kaleidoscope
Bedouin tribal pneuma radiates
Tensed and cordially punted
Feral wild ones sociably awake
Reticent,drained in frail noises
Fainting in lapses, trailed to fail
Tidal noises permeates above all
Waved and enveloped in beats
A drummed goblet, strummed oud
Announcement of the lived life force
The tidal rhythmic music timed
All clapping and mesmerised
Drawn in dangerous curves
A continuum of introversion sorted
The ever censored extroversion summed
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 2:54 PM UTC
Over the past year or so I've become a little bit more extroverted
as I'm not meditating as much these days like I used to be
and this may not be such a bad thing if my mind isn't perverted
or led astray on the wrong path most of the world is we see.
But here again this could be just an admission of weakness
trying to justify the position that I now find myself to be in
along with the rest of the world experiencing a global sickness
in the form of the Covid-19 pandemic the result of man's sin.
-------------------------
The madness of this world has brought on this pandemic
and the underlying cause of it is systemic.
______________________________
May 24, 2021
May 24, 2021 at 9:23 AM UTC
Truthfully,
I relapse with a smile
and contemplate suicide
with a giggle;
because our society dictates
happiness, extroversion, ambition
should be carried even to
a grave dictated by
ourselves.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 6:28 AM UTC
they teach us that extroversion
is the key to success
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
every night you've
been stopping by my
room and asking if i want
to walk the dog with you.
and i
say no
because i know
what you want
and i am not
giving it to you.
the truth is not
pulled out of me
and lies are just
another thing to try.
the sun hasn't
even gone down yet
and i'm already
just a failure
*(i should say
still)*
THIS IS NOT
UP FOR
DISCUSSION
I HAVE BURNED
OUR BRIDGES AND
NOW IT'S YOUR
JOB TO SILENTLY
WATCH THEM SMOKE
you're not helping
my mental disarray
because you are
unaware of its existence.
she's out
in the living room
again
ranting and raving
at him about
all her problems
*(they say men
marry girls just
like their mothers and
i'm beginning to see it
something about that
obnoxious extroversion)*
**yes
i just called
extroverts
obnoxious
or maybe i just
called you obnoxious
because you are
a textbook extrovert**
*(they say girls
grow up to
be just like
their mothers
so i'm sure that
i'm obnoxious too)*
now you're back
i can see you and
the dog walking up
the driveway
and now it's time
to trim my thoughts
at the seams and the
corners where they start
unraveling and you start
tugging at the threads
snip snip
stop it.
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 6:11 PM UTC
Forgive me if I seemed brusque at the airport,
these churches to farewell
are not where I choose to worship
and saying goodbye is like sheathing a sword,
the danger is not over until it’s out of sight.
You’re an introspective man, covert with your passion,
but I suspect you were as glad to see us
as we were to see you.
It’s been said that you are a perfect foil
to my extroversion,
we are a sort of Laurel and Hardy of the emotional spectrum.
One of the perils of transience
is the absence of solid friendship
so that we sometimes become
like wings without a body.
Having a friend arrive on our doorstep
is to find something we did not realise
we had lost.
A holidaymaker is as bright in the workaday world
as a mint coin on sunlit concrete
so that our biggest concern
was to polish your days
to the consistency of your previous excitement.
We are rusty entertainers at best.
One of life’s more pleasant surprises
is that we never know how or where
we will forge a friendship.
Friendships forged in the workplace
can be the most enduring
because there is no mandate to like our workmates.
For a few, too short days
you brought back for me all that was good
about my life in Auckland
and I can ask a friend for no greater gift
than to reflect a little sunlight.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 8:55 PM UTC
The months ahead are meant for the living constructs around us to echo colour and depth
The air smells full, feels warm, surrounding our cellular circumferences with a relieving presence
The plants look alive, saturating their greens, showing a perceivable difference from the bricks
The animals that talk absorb their culture, using community and collective expression to enjoy well... just being
Even those that aren't sure where they'll go when the sun goes down
Forget that the night is coming for a while
Some of the animals want to live among many, be it under the sun or the moon
They talk and smile and laugh, absorbing the eyes and messages of others
They walk and ride metal boxes from place to place, drawn to experiences of shared culture
Ending their days with aching legs and fulfilling memories
Other animals want to live with those few eyes that come comfortable, extroversion less natural
They sit and read in a body of grass, sit and drink on a wooden backless table
They draw warmth from the vivid reality around them, and the presence of those they know well
Days drifting off with a cushion of contentment, sleep coming quicker
Whatever kind of animal each individual is, whatever skin or gender, personality or perception they wear
The subtle empowerment of the sun
The eyes and mouths of their brothers and sisters
The blooming coloured cells and sweet smelling transparents
And those times where the animals stand side by side on mass for something they feel drawn to
Give em a chance to breath in deep, feel the warmth
And enjoy
Jul 26, 2012
Jul 26, 2012 at 7:06 PM UTC
contradiction
con
tra
dic
tion
funny how many there are
in every aspect of life
except it isn’t
funny
at all
with a sunny day
there’s a stormy night
with a beautiful girl
there’s an ugly mind
with the blue water
there’s orange fire
with your long hair
there’s mine short
with your dark eyes
there are mine light
with your big smile
there’s my frown
with your extroversion
there’s my introversion
with your oblivity
there’s my meticulosity
with your whole heart
there’s my broken one
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 7:00 PM UTC
What is the evolutionary benefit
of loneliness?
How does a
Darwinian thinker rationalize the
disconnect between intro- and
extroversion?
Our world is generated by
our need to feel as though
we are together.
Not alone.
Not solitary.
Not separate.
Not disparate.
Still alive.
Still here.
Still breathing.
Still seeking the heartbeat as it
thrums through our souls
and echoes across a pillow into
the eyes of a dispassionate and
apathetic lover.
“maybe love is just muscle memory
a body next to a body
you just react how you learned it the first time.”
An empty bed full of two people waiting
to believe, maybe love is just that.
An empty bed next to an open window as curtains
flutter and we plummet past the 23rd floor
together.
Hand in hand we fall through the surface and
become a tuxedo with tears and bells standing
in front of strangers without faces reciting
lines from ancient vows written without words
in the air that floats
between us.
And it goes Dearly beloved.
Barely beloved.
Barely here.
Why do we pretend?
sorry
And it goes, Dearly beloved,
We have gathered as a people around
the need to find another with which to
fall tumbling through a woven tapestry
of inaccuracies, ineptitude, an incision to
free us from our search.
And it goes, I, the seeker,
take you, my apathetic, beautiful witness--
to have security in knowing I am now tied
to another. Not unique, but made
to hold until our until our bodies run out of time
and our sense of humanity waves to wither
to dust to nothing to death to dust.
And it stops--we transcend ourselves
into melting wax and darkness while stars poke holes
in our blanket of lies when we lay for our
final sleep. We rarely go together, and when
there’s time, we search again.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
It has been such a Long time since our last incarnation such like reassembly.
We’ve been scrubbing our United States
and leasing places
as scarification and other humans‘ faces
of stories,
to bless or gargle foreign.
We’ve been to the Neptune’s Fountain to find Young Man Hogan’s bench situated within all those loners’ speedy extroversion,
and catch the Saint Petersburg bell that hitchhiked the church there
to make a glimpse of urbanism and the world’s history replaced
by just one journal
and one fella’s pencil
swerving greatly.
Still,
the words are still trying,
flexing,
to fit their whole ends
into shoes they should have taken off
already, a long time ago,
and that‘s this somewhere
where we could say:
crossroads decide their fruition.
And it comes to realisation:
faces,
screens,
bruises,
droppings,
chilling entries,
work,
how I remade the word “naked”of one thousand and one nights
under my tiny silky
cloak
-
it has been nothing but a play
for the day when I’ll write,
and the Life,
that will take on my own skin
one way or another.
One paper corner will meet with the other.
Departures are all eventually just fun geese’s bump in another flight of a night.
Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 11:01 AM UTC
If I close my eyes I smell the butter of fresh popcorn and hear the whirring of a laptop powerful and bright. Can taste the dichotomy of the crisp melting of the popped kernel in my mouth, feel the happiness of being in a desk chair in front of a screen and surrounded by books.
Then I open my eyes and see I have to edit everything I've written to be even vaguely coherent.
Happiness is hard when you're never satisfied. When the childhood curiosity stapled to your youthful lips never unpinned as you aged. Neither did the idealistic expectations. Couple that with a pessimistic anxiety disorder and a mood disorder to swing things between the two disparities and it gets a little more complicated.
I've been my most relieved and anxious in this place of empty, of nowhere, that I've settled myself into for the next three weeks. A piece of me enjoys the rest and possibilities. The other hates it for those exact reasons.
I need to breathe, I tell myself. Being so separate is my fault, I insist.
But another voice in my head pipes up quietly, offering a new idea. I'm demonizing myself for not being ideas, for not being normal, for not being one.
But perhaps be bipolar, in more ways than just disorder, is exactly what concocts the human I like being.
Perhaps the great empathetic thoughtfulness yet great introspection work so well in tandem.
Maybe the assertive extroversion yet pleasured isolation balance in their own, special way.
In a way, I might just need to look back on the old Sunday afternoon specials and speak to myself the lessons of their half-hour programs. In particular, admit maybe its ok if I'm weird. perhaps its ok I just be the own odd balance that is me.
The Nowhere, the empty, can be itchy with the possibilities sometimes. Yet these moments, that help me breathe through my own neurotics and idiosyncrasies, may just be the best kind of nothing.
Maybe the bothersome nowhere can also be something grand and great for me as well.
There perhaps is another side of nowhere, and perhaps it is my favorite.
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 11:23 PM UTC
Intense heat. That’s when I work. That’s when I can start feeling the emotions flow through my veins. My head must be productively heated for my brain to function. My pupils have to be dilated. My body active and energetic. My mood fierce. My thoughts sharp. My senses alert. I have to have my heat to function. Without heat I will rot and wither away.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
build me up and hold me there
I'll help you too, people were made for each other
and sometimes it doesn't work out but sometimes it does
we weren't meant to handle this alone.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 11:09 PM UTC
the crackly sound of his voice through my overheating phone is immensely comforting after a week of eye bags and fake extroversion
eating with him on the phone makes my sour strawberries so much sweeter and the pineapple less biting
i love yous traded between bites of subpar greasy pizza and above average vegetable soup
even 313 miles away his voice still wraps around me like a well-loved blanket
keeping me warm and comforted and safe
and sitting alone in a dining hall with dozens of people surrounding me i feel comforted knowing
that he was sitting alone in his room with the tv blasting the smash tourneys he loves so much
and yeah, maybe i talk about him too much
and yeah
maybe he’s all i really write about
but when you find something that makes you feel like you caught a rainbow in your hands
it’s a little difficult to not shout it from your 9th floor dorm room at 10pm on a friday
Jan 31, 2020
Jan 31, 2020 at 9:23 PM UTC