"fractionally" poems
electromagnetically
feelings occur,
responsive to going ons,
pineal gland awakens the senses.
and almost every woman has heard it
"you're so emotional."
so electromagnetically aware
and we don't remember this,
now,
the womb,
the beat maker,
she tunes the
energy of the babe.
mothers wave of
waves fractionally
lay a deep foundation
of the babes waves.
I tell my children
if they can't find me
to look in their hearts
I reside there…
my rhythm, my beat, my heat
lives on.
my womb
charged that spark
that started the parting
of molecules
fractionally
creating its imagine
time and time again, (as we do)
until, begin again,
a new life.
rest your head upon my chest
child
for a recharge.
in our civilized world
we send mothers to work
in a make believe cycle of need.
babes heart searches
for mamas tone
she only cries short
cautious of overspent energy
first dose of sickness.
and EVERY woman has heard it…
"you're so emotional"
notably more so
during some part of her
moon cycle.
so obviously the moon
is more electromagnetic
than we guess.
and women are more emotional
because we are the heart
of the species.
we co-create the heart
of the species.
we require the emotional
antenna
to summon the essence of the heart.
we didn't come from a rib…
our ribs vibrate the
harmony of life through our time!
our hearts beat
the pulse of the
sun
and the dark side of the moon
and infinity.
we are electromagnetically
inclined to emotions.
systematically processing
the energy of existence.
perhaps the first title I will accept
a claim upon my being,
the feminine sensitive.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 5:19 PM UTC
As the tide washes away
The things we do or say
Or that which we want to fade away
Remain not forgotten
But become fractionally dormant
Inside the labyrinth of the mind
New truths are revealed with low tides
Salmon victoriously swim upstream
Until their end becomes seen
I am dusting off my dreams
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
I sit thinking, rocking, musing on the edge of the bed- perusing the colors of your memory blinking fractionally in my remote consciousness. How is it that when I probe tighter, more thoroughly into your visage, trying to define the shape of your face from the faces of my dreams you tend to hide more than ever behind the noise of my thoughts? But the instant I clip into happiness you are there laughing and hugging and spreading lightness on my plaster cast life. I suppose I need to forget this sticky fear of forgetting you. You shape my clay life, pressing deftly upon my mind and habits like a waffle iron crisping batter. I must not forget that I am too deeply stuck in love with you to ever bleed you from my mind.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 4:03 AM UTC
Eternal quandary
Basket or trolley
**** no pound coin
L Casei Immunitas
What?
Find me in the yoghurt aisle
Special offer ahoy
50% off
Only fractionally equine
Unexpected item in bagging area
Wait for assistance
Sigh
Card declined
But thank you for shopping
At Sainsbury’s
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
the birthing goddess
her body preparing for insemination
the richness pooled among her trenches.
bright red and hot. when she can no longer
contain
it explodes out
with a force we are always unprepared for.
She, our mother.
our creator. we molded in the fire of her womb.
She, our mother, fractionally recreates.
She, knows her purpose.
the crimson show is for no weak man,
men struggle to understand the power
in that core. they, too far removed from
their mothers hands. mother's lands remind us,
but we wear shoes for that.
today, I read that we all began as woman.
my body is the predecessor of my sons.
so invested in LOVE and creation,
she
gives up her organs for the balance of our time.
sacrifices the creative womb
to bring forth the solution. the balance.
she knows instinctively that
her womb
is the power of the center of our Earth.
is the power of the rapture of destruction
the force of the creation of LOVE.
she, our Mother.
like with all children, the farther you are from mom,
the less you remember her lessons.
she calls me to her bedside.
I enter the room, confidence birthing
as I near my Mother's side.
she embraces me, touches my soul
through other family members
and through LOVE.
she sacrifices her easy rotation,
her youthful spin, I feel the dizziness too now.
slowing down with conscious effort within
at my Mother's bedside, I shower her with LOVE,
compassion, tears, nutrition, beautiful flowers to smell,
all the things she taught me.
all the things she gives me.
our Mother Earth who LOVES
our fertile Father
our genetics, the subtleties.
the street lights are on…
do you here your Mother's call?
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC
The greatest propaganda
In America is
The delusion
That you are free
Though you do not
Rest in a cell
You are not free
When you submit
To the ruling class
To get by
You are not free
Standards and laws
Made to protect
Divest you
From yourself
You are not free
For the sake of stability
You conform to a job
That you hate
A good little drone
You are not free
Even if you do not agree
With the laws that they make
You must obey
Or they will take you away
You are not free
In order to maintain
The basic family bonds
You are constrained
By their wants and needs
You are not free
If you want to fish
Or hunt
To feed your family
Or just for fun
You need a license
You are not free
Even when you vote to decide
What’s wrong and what’s right
And elect politicians for your side
Those people lie
Doing for the rich and their own kind
And the choice you had
Be it good or bad
Was a fractionally effective
Cause you are not free
Tolls on the roads
Taxes on your checks
Fines and other fees
Cause you are not free
Been a while since the draft
But that could come back
If the private war contractors
Ever get busted
And taken out of the field
The army will make you yield
Or imprison or ****
Cause you are not free
And freedom of speech
Could cost you your job
Slander if spoken
Libel if written
The rich lawyers and judges
Give and take permissions
PC speech
Abstract unwritten rules
Condemn you and yours
Cause you are not free
Any laws that you break
The ones you did not make
Could turn you into
A prisoner of the state
Enslaved, forced labor
Cause you are not free
And if you want to leave
This great country
To travel freely
You must pay for
A small passport
Or you will be confined
To the imaginary lines
People made up
Cause you are not free
Some will say
If you speak this way
You are not truly American
That other countries are worse
But what they lack
Or if I can’t solve this problem
Does not detract from the fact
Does not make lies true
What I am telling you
Is you are not free
I’m tired of this rant
Cause the list is to long
And I wish I was wrong
So tell me please
Where is your true liberty
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 1:19 PM UTC
what horrors this life gives
so much about taking orders
so little about what we need
our tiny hands swollen since birth
singed or still burning
hitting each other
all of us skinned raw
hurting ourselves with our hungers
so much for what we want
so little left here to live on
this browser crawling around
the dissipating web
like hands together
this browser funding
some kind of hypothesis attachment
our phones our miniature worlds
each of us lives a tiny little bit
in supposition our hands together
our knitted brows turned out
hitting each other
striking out
holding on fractionally
threadbare moments
of bedroom magnitude
bedroom moments
of threadbare magnitude
empty touching
we still live in
no joy left in
simply leaving a light on
pitching our voices thus and so
as if we had any ideas
as if we knew something
alone we can imagine
this is somehow grand
imagine ourselves
acting as if this is all
so impossibly grand
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 3:42 PM UTC
I love you
Or at least the seed of you
The one I knew
Through
Words and slight impressions
The one who stirred my obsessions
The little ink drop
Verbal hot spot
Linked to a photo
I love you
Or at least the idea of you
I am not prone to do
What all romantic idiots do
Claim true love at first sight
Cause that would be a lie
It’s more like
Lust at first verse
Which continues to flow
I love you
But it’s quite possible
That the tangible you
Will be a disappointment
That those words
You use
The ones that became my muse
Were merely light abstractions
Of your ever changing consciousness
And just between us
I want to be perfectly honest
I love you
I want to touch you
Do what those in lust do
I trust you
As much as I trust myself
Which is to say
Only fractionally more
Than everybody else
I fear that even when you say I love you to
You too may tire of me
As other lovers often do
I love you
I want you
I want to
Spend time with you
And in those hours
Divest myself of all the fear and power
I have
Be subsumed
By our passion
And if this is only passing
Then let me love you for now
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
Dark visions come to me
Lie beneath the shady tree
Come easily,
Like spent leaves gliding to the ground.
Standing up I feel only fractionally alive
My stagnant blood sloshes around inside my big head
And you slosh around on my ****** lake,
And I see colors when you hit the walls of that atrophied cave.
I dress for my funeral and midway,
I am looking to the casket
Because it's midway
And the sky is so heavy and so grey.
And upon my criminal history, I lament
How tragic it is when men govern men
She is wearing my body
It isn't even sincere
I will return to fashion and fade away forever
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 12:24 PM UTC