"fathomable" poems
I'm always trying to put my
thoughts into words
& constantly trying to
make those words
fathomable to the
correct common brain
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Moody mornings
roughly plaited hair
still letting a few tresses
tickle my forehead
and touch my lips
only to make
my smile wider
These eyes see
more than what
the landscape holds
more than what is told
by the deceiving beings
of the deceiving earth.
It’s a beautiful lie
beneath the palpable skies
and the fathomable oceans.
So I’ll just lie
on this beach
in my blue slippers
and let the sand
fill the pores
of my flaxen skin
while the dolphin flipper.
It’s just a matter of time.
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 5:04 AM UTC
The snow reminds me of every part of you
Your shimmering blue eyes
Flecked with shades of gray
They were iridescent
Resemblance of the sky at winter time
Without a slight touch of clouds
The depths of your deep chestnut brown hair
Reflected all the radiance in your smile
On the well-carved yet pale lips of yours
A smile that could cure cancer and wars
When your cold fingers touch mine
It sends shiver down my spine
You're no prince charming
Nor are you a mighty knight
Just someone for me to cuddle
During chilly nights
The way you laugh- oh its cliché
How it simply takes my breath away
Like a snowflake's delicate six-fold symmetry
Something about you is exquisite, indescribably
Without no fathomable sign I'm just drawn to you
Each and every part of your beautiful existence
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:34 AM UTC
"You were born to do this."
I reminded myself as I sat there feeling encaged in a flurry of endless thought and emotion.
"Why do I have to feel every aspect of every event of life, so deep?"
I thought as I fought myself once again to simply pick up the pen and drain the overflow of despondency onto paper.
"Breathe."
The words, letters, verbs and thoughts continued to swirl in my ever rampantly unsettled abyss of ideation.
Once I surrendered to the raging of the erupting of the soul..there was calm.
It's likened to the deaf..taken away their ability to sign..The dancer with both feet removed.
Had I no other pleasure but to expel grief, fervor and elation and form them into words to heal the shattering so entrenched..they appear unreachable..I'd beg to be buried with just a writing utensil and endless reams of freshly pressed paper.
"Theres Light."
I mouth that..as I continue to jot as if I were stitching my heart back together with this pen.
Even though I'm within this seemingly grave like cave of aching..I can write.
The beauty is in the creation..The ability to construct, like a carpenter..all that your heart desires with your own two hands..to simply Heal the paragraphs of life that were written badly, write over them or erase and rewrite..if only it were that easy.
I don't aim to undo..I cannot.
Just to poetically fabricate from this point on..allow the stumbles to happen and Love greater than thought fathomable.
Surrender. To the page.
Scribble it out, empty it onto line after line..and crawl atop..until the words fill the fragments and the ink stains your fingertips..Keep climbing upon the proverbial stacks of paper until the towers reach the aperture of the pit.
Creating the mending of affliction, soothing the misery of the choking of words you cannot utter, but you can scratch them onto tablets to deplete the churning of the mind.
Write. Write badly.
Write as if in a mad race to the finish line, then start over again..Until the trails of Letters stretch so long..you could dance upon them for days.
Then Breathe.
Soak every word into your skin as if attempting to heal the afflictions..
then Become it.
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 5:24 PM UTC
Lover, I was never a creature of euphonious language, but, in the sincerest way possible, I want to trace the lines in your palms with my fingertips I could blindly transfer them onto paper like my native language; there is something that tells me that there are otherworldly creatures that breathe life into every speck of dust floating by your window in the early morning so they can be assured that every particle feels the blessing of seeing the loveliest of nonsense spilling from your lips in a low mutter; I have dreamt of a world where I am stringing harps with every word you said that I grabbed with my grimy hands and condensed into velvet strings and in this world I play you a melody and I do not tremble and you are immortal. However, I do not quarrel with this reality that is given to me, for I know that it is an honor to have been placed on this earth in the realm of your existence, to have the privelege to see the way the sun glows this new shade of warmth when it is bathing your shoulders — like a lover with kisses made of milky light, it kisses you into a divine sort of oblivion that I cannot help but envy and admire, I know we do not realize the true beauty of things until they are broken but I have haggled my soul to never see you crack, and God knows I would extinguish the flames behind my eyes so that they are reduced to low-burning coals, in the hopes that you and everything delicate that follows close behind will at least hover just beyond my grip, still not too close because I have always had trouble keeping a gentle grip on heavenly things and you are a piece of every form of divinity that I can bear to break down into fathomable thoughts; so, here I love you from worlds away — yes, from worlds away, I love you.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
I am a writer.
One who can close myself away into a small dimly lit space and gush life onto an insubstantial substance of fibrous material..in hopes that once finished..reads of something that makes sense and releases a tad of this confined fury..that whirls in my ever churning mind.
I am a Dreamer.
A human born into disparaging circumstances, that grasped for anything tangible, as early as I can possibly recollect. With a never ending desire to find truth and love beyond the abuse that I endured throughout all of my childhood..Determined to view life..clear of the filters embedded over my eyes, attempting to force my mind to function through the inherited dysfunction.
I am a Lover.
Believing in a Love so genuine, that it literally heals all human afflictions .
Investing in a hope in all things soulful and lucid.
Craving to Love free of the bounds thought fathomable, truly devoting to other souls..the most valuable asset - Time - and desirous to Lead with Love in every moment.
I am a Writer.
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 2:31 AM UTC
i watch the clock tick to 2 milliseconds past 1900 hours and i remember how, at 2 milliseconds past 1400 hours, just 5 hours earlier, i was cradling you in bed
it was warm and we were interlocked and you looked heavenly
the glow of the sunshine a halo around a face full of sleep and too beautiful even for poetry.
i try to verbalise you, try to write you down to make your existence more fathomable –
i cannot.
there are no words for a heart that beats honey through soft-skinned veins, that swirls around your mouth like saliva and you taste so **** sweet.
i told my doctor i have a sweet tooth, what i meant was i am addicted to you; what i meant was i can’t stop waking up in the middle of the night to fix the cravings i have when you aren’t there.
what i meant was, sometimes i sleep walk, find myself at
platform number 5 of the same station i left you at hours before hoping that some sweet fragrance of you still lingers.
i watched the clock tick to 2 milliseconds past 1900 hours and i watched the train move away in slow motion.
i watched your face until i couldn’t see it anymore and i have never felt longing like it. suddenly i felt like a lost kid at the supermarket trying to find their parent and i wanted to scream for you to come back because although this train moved in slow motion i swear 2 milliseconds passed and you were gone.
i tried not to blink because i didn’t want to miss a single moment.
i sent you “i love you” through a screen that is too familiar to me now and felt the itch of my craving against my spine –
i will wait for you.
i replay the last kiss in my head; it was probably our seventieth goodbye kiss because each one didn’t encompass all the love we needed to express before the train departed and i taste honey.
i cannot make your existence more fathomable because that would mean to understand you and in all your complexity, i never want to stop learning –
so please,
allow me to explore your mind in every neurotransmitter, in every dopamine dosage, in every fight or flight reaction; allow me to explore what it is to be you and let me write you into every poem i ever produce, let me hallucinate you into every city street, cast your reflection in every shop window, replace every tin of beans with jars of honey and settle like dust on my lips –
i will wait for you.
every day, i wait for you.
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
Writing soothes the soul, it knows no formula or rhyme.
It only meets the writer and everything in between.
There are things I wish to say and **** the rhymes and numbers.
Writing only knows the artistic mind beheld to its grasp upon birth.
Life knows not one destination.
But many mere moments where life is gazed upon through the past,
and the present visions something much more beautiful than once was.
Happiness is born from past pain.
God I'm so sick of the pain being spoken of.
The pain is gone!
Now she lives as a shining pearl, her oyster shell gone but never forgotten for one must always remember where they derive.
She knows only up.
She knows only success.
Even in the failure she finds success as not one thing in this universe can stop her.
God is on her side as he always has been, but in an instant her mind has shifted to the light.
She has become the spark to her own endevors.
Oh how she craves adventure and gazing upon the breath of the sky.
Venturing out and up to unkown places to her and only known by her creator.
The glorious beauty of this earth, art of its own creation.
She thirsts and hungers for newance and things only fathomable by God himself.
She will succeed even if she fails for that is the secret of living that no one has yet pondered.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 11:10 PM UTC
Nothing is eternal.
Only that which dwells
outside the realm of reason
is forever eternal.
No, it isn't "God"
but it is what it is
that is so often misinterpreted
by so many as "God".
""God" is just another thing we've created
to try to make the unfathomable
fathomable.
So is Tao. So is Brahman. So is Allah. So is YHWH/Yahweh.
These are just constructs for our limited perceptions and ignorance; for our need for words.
Because nothing is eternal,
everything is sacred.
Divine.
Holy.
Transient and shifting.
Not in a dogma sort of way, for that diminishes the possibilities.
More of a dynamic spiritualism kind of way.
Forever changing, recycling, pulling and pushing.
Like water, or good music.
There is peace in this existence.
You've just gotta learn to allow it to embrace you.
The more you deny, the less you experience.
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 9:06 PM UTC
My knees buckle under the pressure of imaginary weight.
An un-fathomable burden conjured by my mind.
Who knew nothing could weigh so much?
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
build the earth from nothing,
she demanded.
build around me a shield of green and
carve your cityscapes into my ribcage,
burrow deep into my flesh and
drink from my throat like thieves.
i gave you everything but the clothes
on your back and the poison
you stole from my name,
shutting out birdsong and brainwaves for rocketships and
buckets of red that stained my dress like the frost.
i have been bleeding, starving, praying,
but you've only
licked your lips and settled
more comfortably into the rabbit's fur like the demons you are.
an outcry.
we had planted her fingers and
eaten the roots
just as she had asked,
pressed the dark, rich earth between our toes
as blood seeped from the pores of our skin
and acid dripped into the lungs of the children.
we had stood in the cold shivering and knocking
but her door remained sealed
for still she was not pleased.
we had outsmarted her
once before, you see.
twisted glacial rivers and sent showers of sparks towards
the sky in a beauty more precise than arrows,
and by luck of the dice
had turned her pieces round.
but she had shaken us off her shoulder
as easily as a dew droplet or
the shedding of a second skin,
an empty shell that filled with rainwater
when left out for a night.
our punishment was one of unusual origins and
hadn't a fathomable end,
one we couldn't even begin to guess.
our question stands in a noose of gold and silver
and i've a feeling the jury will clatter their knees
to protect the guilty.
and who were we to speak the truth when
the snapping of necks deafened the loudest voice?
Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 8:34 PM UTC
My biggest fear in this life is to be insignificant,
to change the world in no way fathomable
and that my being is forgotten forever;
to not be remembered.
There is so much that I want to say, need to say, but the way to
release is not yet apparent.
I fear that my time will run out.
But then I remember, that my
veins that coarse with blood are the maps of the world
that I am yet to discover
and that this life is a journey and I was born to travel.
And the crimson and plum shapes that decorate my
flesh which hold many memories inside their outline,
are the collapse of a nebula in the sky
that creates the birth of a star.
I, myself, collapsed.
I crumbled to the ground into dust and could find no way to grow again.
But that was not my destruction, after all.
It was my birth.
I was reborn from the same dust as the stars and
I can soar through the sky with the blood pumping through my veins.
I am alive.
I am so alive because I am nature itself.
How could I be insignificant when I have
galaxies expanding through my body and
flowers blooming in my mind,
that are being watered by the fall of October rain.
I am nature itself,
and I have never felt
more alive.
I am full of the world.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
As children, we wonder
over the subtle vibrations of our voices
traveling through a frayed string
between two empty cans of sweet corn.
We grow up watching spaceships scream across
endless stars, and the stars have names
like Alpha-232 and Gamma-786,
because wiz-kid men in observatories have to be practical.
Our back pockets have the universe on a leash, milliseconds
from genius, because the 4G internet is so **** fast.
There are virtual realities more real than summer grass,
crickets humming on computer screens in winter,
and the voices and faces of the dead swimming on televisions 24/7.
Infinity has never been more fathomable.
It makes you wonder, when the sun crumbles into dusk
and you’re on the back porch with a cigarette smoked and dying,
how we’ve never managed to engineer a cure
for loneliness.
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC
You always know what to say,
even after you've said every wrong thing fathomable
"You're worth it. You're worth everything I do for you."
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
Like a snake slowly coiling around my vitals,
your sly words took hold of me.
Everything beautiful and calm, hidden wretchedness,
a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Justifying your words, my feelings;
heads spinning.
A stronger love than fathomable, I fell so hard,
blind to the sinister lies that your flawless lips leaked out.
Drool oozing out, I'm hungry for the last taste of you,
you're the apple and I'm Eve,
releasing my last bit of dignity, I
chased the perfect evil that is You.
Skin shed, your soul revealed: dark.
Stars fading overhead, aching, stomach in knots...
waking up refreshed, reborn, life without the shackles.
The rising new sun is brighter than before.
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
We have a sizable job before us poets
the serpent used a poem so sweet and subtle
Eve's swoon was akin to Elvis' adolescent entourage
lyrics that could talk you into wanting to know more about
how to talk using lyrics that could talk you into wanting to
know more about how to talk using more of a language
that operates the mind, that speaks to will itself.
and Adam, like the Junior High sympathetic, waiting by the phone
wondering what she does when she's out of sight,
finding them in the clearing smiling with casual familiarity
only to say, 'Oh, hey, where have you been, care to meet my new friend?'
and He, obliging since he already knows that what she likes,
He ought to find well and good, enjoys a chat and a snack with
this beguiling stranger who seems so learned and worldly.
our duty to redeem the artifice, to turn the mechanics into a
tool for what will come to be understood as good, the aesthetic that governs,
where the dust in the creekbed shuffles similarly to a star devoured by gravity,
light in the dewdrop with the fragrance off the petal, the song and the wing
together in the tree, the telling of a tale in weight and measure,
brushstroke and letter, the definable math, the falsely fathomable organic
randomness, precisely ambiguous, colossally specific, superficially profound,
is tasked with using the design, generating every nomenclature through metaphoric
action, the most real thing, the underpinning, the scaffold, the Tao.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
I’m in a glass.
I am a piece of glass.
Fragile, fragmented, fractured.
Vulnerable, volatile, visible.
Transparent, translucent, transient.
Break me like you break the bones,
throw me like you throw the stones.
Destroy me like you explode the stations,
crush me like you **** the nations.
I’m in a bubble.
I am a piece of bubble.
Fantasized, fathomable, free.
Enlightened, encompassed, entangled.
Breathless, beautiful, (before I) burst.
Burst me like you extinguish a child’s hope,
terminate me like you diminish the sense of cope.
**** me like you shoot the innocent,
stifle me like you strangle the incompetent.
I am in a human being. I am a human being.
But I am also a glass, and also a bubble.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
Burning red eyed glow
Cool to your embers
Blow smothering the flame
Bonfire emotes in flame
Blue oceans deep pass over your heat
Let me sink in I've dove deep
Your pools of blue
Draw and drown
Magnetic energy motorized within me
I spark
Hitherto never shocked
White blinding light
Disappear in the cloud
Trampoline of cotton
Take me higher, higher
Show me wonder
Don't drop me.
For I will fall onto the green
Grass won't stop this descent
Bush won't cushion this fall
Tree won't just impale
Forest nights grow darker
I'm lying down on my blanket
Pressing into the lush
Breathing nostrils tendril tickles
Sink a half inch deeper
into the bending saber tips
Watch from your tower
Rays of gold meld and procreate naturally
Don't take my warmth and life
Golden globular orb melting sloughing sliding down
Un-fathomable happiness
Limitless light life justice
Ice cold depression
Death wallow in grief
When the mighty winks goodbye
The black will rule
Hades rises
Hellish requiem depress souls
Let the forms wander as empty husks
Tombs line roads and no light to see them
Take my vision hearing smelling
Leave me warmth
Even your red eyed glow
I submit
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
I'm wrapped in this eternity,
its suffocating grip
break my breaths
into splinters I can't fix.
I'm worn out
and my unbound edges
are starting to dissolve in this chasm.
One day, it'll become me
and I'll become it.
Then they'll know
that my depth
was never fathomable.
This unknown ocean is my home.
If they asked,
I'll tell them that 1997's
summer seemed like
streetlights casting
orange glow over deserted roads.
I'm an infinite distance
drenched between
my broken dream
and a reality so real,
it shook my being.
I'm this flash of light,
almost resonant,
almost imperishable.
Almost.
My unbound edges
have dissolved into this chasm.
If I could reach out now,
I could touch
that little diminished glow
my dream used to be.
I've fallen out of faith,
fallen out of fear,
fallen out of dread.
I'm this numb throbbing
left behind by the bitter tint
of their crude remarks
That I haven't learned to forget.
I'm a being of ashes piled high,
desperate to touch the sun
though it burned me so much,
That I've become nothing
but a screaming grey,
That they call thunderstorm.
I'm like water splashing,
through broken water pipes
with rusty veins
and faded sunsets
and dark dawns,
fissured with almost inexistent clouds.
They know now though,
I'm faded.
They still don't know,
I'm a bottomless void.
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 9:14 AM UTC
Throughout the existence of our earth, beauty
and logic have never been as one. I
know that now because your beauty has no
logic to it, and there is no beauty
in describing you logically. These
functions and algorithms within me
cannot process your astounding beauty
and I cannot take it for one more second.
Why isn't there a fathomable reason
for your infectious smile, those eyes of earth,
or your face as it lights up entirely
when you see someone you love? No, my logic
cannot solve why you are so beautiful
as you shine in that light
which only I seem to see.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 4:28 PM UTC
I stand in the midst of wonder wondering why I stand in the first place. Not by a chance of interstellar explosion, but by hand I am crafted. My spirit and soul are sown into one making me who I am. I stand selfishly thinking the effect the world has on me, when I should ask a reverse and converse to others the effect we have on this earth. I gaze in the stars to form an opinion of why this light in my life is burning so bright, burning like the sun. The sun is simply a star, but the son is anything but simple. The stardust thus express deeply the desires of stating that this world is anything but ordinary. Even now on the mountaintop looking down into the valley. The amount of life stories amounting to a number uncountable by only one man. Although not fathomable He knows every quote expressing in great detail the plot and characters as if it was more than read. Yet it was published by the hand who guides me through this terrible sea. Seen as trails but those demons only come out with prayer and fasting. This lack of food feeds more than my soul, it feeds my being, my beliefs, my thinking. The belief that thinking is the result of my being. Yet only now known is the thought that my being is a result of believing. Belief is a tragedy though because you often learn things you don’t want to know.
Knowledge is said to be power, yet I express to myself and my closet friends that knowledge gives way to wisdom, which creates a humble man. Only then can we, who think so highly of ourselves, to see the kingdom. Placed low for those who can’t reach perfection to obtain it. Thus throw open the golden gates and enter in my good and faithful servant.
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 12:13 PM UTC
I push a heavy stone over my head and I am still here,
When will I love lifting this stone?
When will I admire this heavy burden?
My muscles will adapt,
over time,
My mind will see the commonality,
over time...
Time
are you the one pulling these strings?
Are you this one they call God?
Are you the one who holds me,
Tells me
Controls me?
Yet when I hear,
When I see your family,
It almost seems like you dont exist
Your brother with his colorful bright eyes that can perceive all color,
Your sister with her ears that pick up all frequencies listening to all your problems,
Your father with his consciousness making up brilliant ideas that are not fathomable by our perception,
and your mother,
Creating,
touching,
feeling
hearing,
Time,
your silly smile,
your silly mask,
Time you cannot control my mind
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
if i could write you a love poem
you know in an instant i would
but no words i could ever comprehend
would possibly be enough
to tell you how every day
every inch of my skin yearns for your touch
and i want nothing more
than to crawl inside of you
so that i never have to be away from you
to tell you how whenever i think of you
somewhere inside of me lights up
i want to pull that light out of me
and give it to you
so you know how i feel
to tell you how i know it’s not fathomable
yet i fall for you more every day
i want to peek inside your brain
and know that you’re thinking about me
as much as i do you
to tell you how i’m afraid
that someday i’ll lose you
and i’d rather you **** me
because i would rather die by your hands
than to live to see someone else take what’s mine.
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 12:17 PM UTC
I dedicate my life trying
To write my thoughts into letters
Forever attempting to
Make those words fathomable to you
Your silence as crashing waves
All that you do not say
In you, I've finally found
Words to write, thoughts to think
Why do you say you're tragic
If anyone took the time
They'd see you as beautiful
As the sky and stars above
Your eyes are quite something
They say so much and yet a lot hidden
Beneath those smiles of laughter and love
What pain and regrets do they conceal?
I want to know it all.
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 3:50 AM UTC