"fixates" poems
Words pour, form into
Wide pieces of evidence
The picture revolves
Capturing a heart, a mind
It will
Laugh
Rip
Sing
Bleed
Silence
Bury you until you suffocate
To become captured
Fixates into a pulse
A flight from freedom
A return to curiosity
But, as hearts
Surrender to flying kites
The crescent moon
Cracks under the pressure
Melting snow brings
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 10:39 PM UTC
across the river
made up of particles and whatnot
is where my soul belongs
it exasperates me that
the fish can easily go
and see my love
with a simple
flip of their fin
can watch my love
i grew up
believing no one
would ever fall in love
with me
that i’d be
forever lonely
like the moon wasn’t something
my love had built for me
in their bedroom
sitting at their desk
pondering which piece fixates itself
to which piece
so my broken heart strings bled
the color blue
it was blue because the
river was blue
and so were my feelings
but it was also blue because
it was cold outside
and i loved the way that
my love’s lips turned a slightly blue color
in the cold
and it was blue because that was
the color of their eyes
i tried to empty myself of all my
emotions
dont tell me that
a defective life is something
a therapist can fix
and that a couple pills a day could cure
because there is no way for it
to transit itself into something
beautiful.
m.g.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 11:17 AM UTC
I'm a lost beat in a generation that I don't belong in
This accent isn't my own, and nothing is really just nothing
On drunken nights I feel you, your words stumble upon my sight
And I feel, I feel... static, ecstasy, loneliness
This beauty which you claim of blossom fields and grey empyreal
It mimics my inner-manic. Estranged voice that dauntingly whispers:
don't claim to the beauty you see
Satellite heart, you're losing your signal, again
I'd build a ladder to the sky and climb every star,
past the moon and beyond, if I could.
I've tried, you know I've tried.
Although I refuse to recline,
denial itself fixates truth:
I'll never be able to fix you.
To quench your thirst, to ease your pain, keep you awake
I'd make you stay, forevermore upon your desire, you know I would.
In my mind, I'll hold your hand without interference
And if tears do in fact dry on their own,
I'll cry yours along with mine until they do.
Feverish trembling of reminisce will not exist, not here
Outside these city walls,
To a place afar from calendar days and neon glistening hours
We will dance atop telephone wires
The soles of our feet tracing back to the sound of that very first call
*gliding, floating, drifting
recklessly, carelessly, quixotically - - -*
And if we fall, love, imagine that imaginations fly.
It's been said, as they say, that everything, everything ends
We are not everything, however. We are merely ourselves alone
You and I, it is just you and I, dispersed, coffee of the sea
For no reason other than our own, we rage in reprise as
Metaphors among caffeinated tides.
We are not infinite, immeasurable, imperishable
Our ancient bodies have long been buried in one-an-others heart
We are our own. Constant as the silence of sound.
Ceaselessly, immersed in the slumber of our dream
We are, we are, w e a r e
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 5:38 AM UTC
I’ve got no right and of that I’m very well aware, that I should have a say in how you wear your hair. That I shouldn’t think it looks the nicest after you’ve showered, when it’s darker and the lines of your combs teeth leave neat rows in your styled way.
Or maybe that I love you when you’ve shaved, but also grizzly bear you reminds me it’s the weekend. When you're ruff, I know there are a few more precious hours in the Saturday and Sundays on the calendar.
I won’t ever tell you that your grey tee shirt is my favorite of your limited wardrobe, and that you in my favorite color—it’s blue if you were wondering, though I'm sure you already know— makes my head swoon for a bit. When you wear a button up, and leave it un-tucked, I think about the white vee neck beneath and how I can see it peeking out from beneath your collar.
I love the way your suit jacket makes you stand up straighter, and how your suit pants when you sit reveal those brown socks you always wear with your wingtips. I even love those blue jeans (I think they’re your only pair) that aren’t stylish, but soft and comfortable. And the brown belt with the cracking leather and brass buckle you always play with when you’re laying on the floor with me, watching nonsense tv at the end of a day. I love your sweatpants, and the way that when you lie on your side, your boxer band shows like a tease. I like the way you never fix it, but it fixates me.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
I remember saying to you, "I want you SOOO bad!"
I want all your parts, the light and dark, I want you even after so long
even though you're gone I want you
like a kid wants to see Santa on Christmas eve, hoping for a glimpse of the elusive man, not even questioning his validity
I want you like hot fudge on ice cream, the perfect compliment to my frigid self loathing, hot and sweet covering every inch, making me melt, I want you like the bros at the gym want gains
out of this world gains, hard work pays off gains
the protein to your muscle, stronger than the weight on your shoulders, I want you the way a tree buds and grows its leaves into the most lush escape, only to send them off with the most colourful goodbye awaiting their return in the spring, I want you like my dog wants food
and let me tell you one singular thought fixates his mind, and that is eating
I want you like an soft song played on the strings of a perfect evening, while we slow dance in the dark
I want you like an ice cold beer on a hot summer day! the spritz of the cap, bubbling with anticipation, the sweat forming on the bottle dripping down your finger as you touch it to your lips and then,
ahhh pure refreshment, quenching my Sahara thirst
I want you like how green grass, and shrubs and flowers and trees all grow towards the sun, innately seeking the heat source of life, the very sustenance that keeps them alive, I want you
like the air
all around me, I wanna feel you permeate every cell in my body, wanna feel you expand my lungs, and pump my heart, fire neurons in my brain sending electric signals to every muscle tingling my nerves
I want you like the first snowfall
magical and nostalgic, cozy and beautiful
I want you the way I wanna write poetry that saves lives, the way I want the words to build themselves with every pen stroke and speak to you, I want you the way no one has ever wanted me
worth the effort, if you would just try to see I could build a universe around us, so we would have our own stars that shine for our eyes only, and we would never miss a chance to watch the beauty of our stars crossing the sky,
I want you with feelings, and that uncomfortable "communicating" thing that I do so well for a living but struggle to do with you, I want you raw and exposed
our souls bared, a connection even fully clothed, I want you so bad
was all that I could muster under that gin soaked cloak of bravery
I should have said, that all I really wanted
was for you to want me too
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
Standing with her head low and shoulders slouched,
centered in open field of dying foliage, she stood alone in the pouring rain.
She held a bright yellow flower that nestled so gently in between her slender fingers.
Overcast skies, fill the atmosphere with grey and white towering columns of fluffy moisture.
Blue skies peek at out as the clouds mutate and morph moving along with the winds taking on new forms at every breeze.
Sun rays shoot through the an opening where the clouds part, beaming down below to the golden fields of hill, grass,
and the occasional tree; giving life supporting energy for only a few seconds until it quickly
gets covered by the onslaught of clouds. Shinning on her pale fleshfor that second
she felt the life providing sun permeate on her cold wet skin with warmth.
Rain still trickling down upon her face and flower close to decay,
the light reluctantly giving her the energy to lift her head with prowess.
She fixates her eyes deep out into the hilltops and the skies above,
where the light shed through; steadily recuperating from her desolate outlook before.
Noticing wonders and the rare beauty of her location, that she had given no mind to before.
Managing to reveal a smile she once held behind the clouds, forgetting completely that she was ever alone to begin.
Jul 18, 2011
Jul 18, 2011 at 11:00 PM UTC
Driving home .
The sun sets into heaps of cotton candy over the hills and sprinkles the sky with frosted sugar, illuminating your face and hands on the wheel.
First date.
Two teenagers sitting in the car, stealing glances and hiding their innocent smiles under tightly pursed lips with the hanging question of who will kiss who first, only to result in the soft intertwining of fingers.
One looks down and focuses on their frayed jeans, smiling ear to ear. The other looks over, feeling warmth spread from their chest to their cheeks.
February 14th.
Neon lights dim for the girl with strawberry lip gloss and shaky hands. She gazes at the crowd over the sea of couples and fixates her eyes on a single rose. A petal softly floats down onto a table. The piano begins, her voice following.
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 3:46 PM UTC
The camera fixates on a face
-closer
Dampen the impeding surrenders
September daydreams of Jade
Natures force was made
For mass production
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 10:35 AM UTC
I fixate.
Mostly, as a self loathing (or was it loving?) person, on myself.
When it’s not me it’s you, stranger.
Guy who smiles at me.
Girl who stares.
Adult who makes me feel like a kid, and kid who makes me feel like an adult.
I see you, seeing me, and I fixate on you until I can satisfyingly conclude that you either
1. Don’t give a **** about me
or
2. Thought about me for a moment.
While I immediately want to know what you think of me, if you think of me, I remind myself that I am much more interested in knowing how long you carry me in your mind.
I, who fixates, will think of you often. I will think of you long and hard and I will stop when I find another whose face is fresh in my mind, while yours has faded like the blue in my favorite jeans.
I, who fixates, wonder how long it takes for me to fade in the mind of you, who doesn’t.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
his gaze ignites her
his smile invites her
his laugh delights her
his love excites her
her mind fascinates him
her body fixates him
her touch captivates him
her love saturates him
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 8:12 AM UTC
you never met the me I was before
you never saw me as the wrecked and sunken ship
or how my feelings showed up on the splitting of my skin
with madness comes the bruising and indentations of me
many nights for many years, yanking at my hair,
eyes bleeding tears and "I'm sorry"s
I cannot fix myself
my mind fixates on the broken parts of me that used to be the reason
I try to die
you don't understand how I carved my pain onto my skin, into permanence that I'll see
so that I will always remember that grotesque and ugly part of me
that I hide from eyes that are scratching to reach
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
Zoloft has killed my poems and my erections.
the unfortunate side effects of getting well.
my pen won't mark this paper,
and my ***** hangs it's head in disappointment.
they look me in the face and ask 'why?'
I try to tell them,
about the constant discomfort,
the urge to peel off my skin and escape,
how my mind fixates on misery.
they seem to understand as well as a ball point pen and a flacid ***** could.
their tiny voices squeak
'we want you to be happy'
and I think they mean it
the three of us wonder if the writing will get easier.
the three of us wonder what the point of happiness is without a working ****
the three of us wonder if we are useless without each other.
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 4:02 PM UTC
It's the little things
That have the biggest impact
And the larger things
That everyone fixates
Why can't you see the real problem?
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 9:14 PM UTC
Desperate to be validated,
To be seen,
To be loved,
Girl's mind clouds up with the need,
Fixates on the first boy or man,
That she believes is a connection,
A connection to herself,
To her loneliness,
Pain,
Loss,
Lost.
Looking for yourself through someone else's broken self,
Will only take you further away.
Jul 8, 2023
Jul 8, 2023 at 5:05 AM UTC
Tomorrow is another day, new as all the rest,
Leave worries to settle in the past,
Frightened dreams plague your sleeping mind,
Time, the enemy, always seems to go too fast.
It inducea slowly-consuming fatigue,
The sun lowered eyelids, sight gone,
Slowly sinking like hopes for change,
Daily ritual of comfort continuing on.
Joining edges of morning horizon,
In a still serene escape,
Shifting Earth carries sky into darkness,
Without sound, color, or definite shape.
Amplified moments, night takes form,
Fear fixates frantic thoughts on future mistakes,
Daybreak will come regardless of your worry,
Stop fretting over potential heartaches.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 4:20 AM UTC
My brain has a funny way of expressing love for someone or something
My brain denies it for months, finds a way to sabotage it,
My brain then flips around and craves the chase,
My brain fixates on it entirely without any sort of sign of slowing down or stepping back
My brain seals cracks in its synapses with compliments from men in ripped tshirts
Who think that the body my brain is inside of is “just too ******* **** to be sad”
My brain takes it, my brain takes it
and molds itself around their steel wool hands,
And molds my hands around steering wheels that mold themselves into 180 degree turns
That turn cars into tree bark, on fire, lighting up pieces of my clothes throughout the air
Of the town that I grew up in, and empty in, burning out carrying the reasons
Why I tried to silence the constant screeching in my chest with a guard rail,
Going 90 miles per hour instead of just talking to someone,
But they burned up and fell in love with the sounds of the forest
Before anyone else but me was able to hear them
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 1:07 PM UTC
Libraries: lots of books,
but not an easy place to learn.
Indeed, the texts are tenets
that pin it down
and fix it so we can point and say
"there is where we worship knowledge."
We humans so love
to build shelters
where our hearts may safely gather dust.
But breathe deeply,
and plunge into the sun.
Or is it the river that shines so brightly?
It's sleepy-warm out,
but the water is cold
and perpetual wonderment is the humblest profession.
'Tis wisest to remember
that we know next to nothing!
Only then do we dare to walk the edge
of our outermost circles,
our most cherished philosophies
which encompass all our virtue and vice.
And only then do we dare to circumscribe it all,
putting our trust in our present being
instead of the prescription that our Past has written for us.
Our cherished morals, our good conscience,
are part of a bigger picture.
Take the next step
when the light flashes across your mind.
Shuck your previous assumptions
like the shackles they are
and embrace the new saving grace.
And watch. It fixates itself.
And then we pin it down and point and say
"there."
"there is what we worship, no more no less."
And then. O, and then!
It will be your turn to take my hand and say:
breathe deeply,
and plunge into the sun.
There's never been a better day
to break away.
Us folks never rise so high
as when we do not know where we are going.
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 2:41 AM UTC
He changes his socks
but never the muse
and
wonders what's the use,
in time when the stream
reaches its destination.
He never fixates
he
always deliberates
slowly.
Things will be
they always are.
I leave well enough alone,
even in marriage
sometimes
it's good to be on your own.
There is here a limited access
no entry,
do you have a pass?
Go
be things as they are,
better by far that you know
what will be.
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 2:25 PM UTC
*Like a rare, elusive butterfly
The world fixates upon,
Love is shown and sold to us,
Without it we are forlorn;
We seek it out in classics
And the new film of the year,
But what some just don’t realise
Is that love is already here;
Sisters doing each other’s hair –
What is that but love?
Mothers working to pay the rent
But still treating children – love!
It may not be the honeyed tones,
Or jewels, or desire of fantasy –
No, it’s something much more precious,
And it belongs to you and me*
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
Steps and laughter downstairs
A fraternity in its usual chaos
You crawled in through the window
To indulge in his hidden desires
A friendly greeting before the sin is committed
A mattress on the floor, blankets in swirls
Sit on the edge as he beckons you over
The black night, the sole witness
He’s cold despite the warmth of his touch
His dark eyes shine with a sense of discontent
He holds you softly, but it’s never enough
For you to feel loved, nor for him to love himself
Not a word was spoken, an unceremonious ******
No reciprocation, no lingering emotion
The loathing wafts through the air like steam
As he fixates on the disheveled ground
Retrieve your sweater from below
Go reconnect with your old friend, the night
Out the window from whence you came
He won’t even watch you leave
Apr 24, 2020
Apr 24, 2020 at 6:31 PM UTC