"fragmentations" poems
I encourage you to abandon your faith
imagine the uncondonable
do the unpardonable
and rest in the arms of father mountain
I encourage you to go beyond your thoughts
appeal to your animalistic self
let go of your inhibitions
and tear me up in bed
I encourage you to try the impossible
reach the corners of your body
where pleasure is indigenous
where there will never be colonization
I encourage you to learn a new language
to not be patriotic
and worship your own flesh
resist majoritarian temptation
and dig an altar to yourself
I encourage you to love me
without strings, with no chains,
corral me, make me struggle,
and deep your soul within my veins
love me whole
sin fragmentations
love me across borders
without concessions
with negotiations
and complications
I encourage you to love.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 2:59 AM UTC
*Serenity Echoing In Reverse,
Stagnant Resolutions Choking Her Universe,
Submerging Her Dreams Into A Sterilized Verse.
Sedated In Perpetual Twilights,
Mechanical Love & ****** Satellites,
She Whispers Essences Of Kryptonite.
Victim To A Perpetual Reaction,
She Transforms Into A Violet Abstraction,
Echoing Prismatic Deflections.
Technician To Her Own Serenades,
She Embraces Her Heartache Blockades,
Overdosing On Intoxicating Escapades.
Evoking Constellations Of His Ionized Memories,
She Overdoses On Comatose Reveries,
And Spectral Illusions Of Synthetic Stories.
Amplifications So Sacred & Profane,
Simulations Raving Into Codependent Stains,
Fragmentations Entranced In Her Bulletproof Frames.
Cherub Starlight & Everlasting Gaze,
Transitions Fusing Into Astral Maze,
The Essence Of Ecstasy Of His Sentiments Sways.*
- 04:27AM
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 5:57 PM UTC
bass palpitations and neon fragmentations
briefly deflect the cruelty of
your perceivable
emptiness
a rainbow of sweat, anonymous
stems encompassing sauntering spirits
a fully elevated identity
identifies the rationale
behind the soul's existence.
THERE IT IS,
dangling before doped surveillance;
can't you taste its sweetness?
and
before you grasp it,
the crescent wanes
pacing shuffled steps
tracing fleeted memories.
nights with beautiful intruders
terminated with sonorous ears,
oscillations of the frame,
and you,
crashed
on pillow-top.
how did you got here?
recollections
excruciating
tattoos of a misleading
reality.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 4:09 AM UTC
Borderline hues shatter upon the
fragmentations
of sullen gullied pools..
Where the refraction of utopia shines,
the *** is deceitful and tarnished.
As every prism of reverence disperses.
Heaven is a shard of falsehood
cutting into the sky...
Perceptions see an aura-borealis.
But woven with the beauty
is the curse of fallen angels..
For all who stared upon the glare
were severed from sight...
Dilating upon the sorrow of
written words etched in eyelids.
The world was beauty, and you blinded it..
Now we will scratch every word inward.
See the error of your ways, and walk as before.
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 6:53 PM UTC
Tugging at the empty void,
In hoping there might be something else
Something more to call your own
You keep your eyes open,
As if the more you look the more you see
But the more you see,
All you see is darkness
Your failures and incorrect fragmentations
Oh woe with me,
these scars run oh so deep
What hope is there for me?
Perhaps I can call someone "friend"
hold their hand and
have my first kiss
I dream, I dream, I dream
I dream of something more
Beyond the realm of truth
Tugged this way and that
I'll be stuck in my own discretions
My own damages, my own keys
A singular phrase breaks my wounded mind
As if someone actually cares
About what lies beneath this wickedness
Carry on,
Breathe
Smile.
Carry on,
Breathe
Smile.
and repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat
repeat.
Until the feelings I have lost
The warmth of your embrace
The hope I find once again
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
God is nature, it is the beauty that shines the grace that surrounds, this the deity that holds the prophecy
The wealth of existence the extremities of life, the obstructions and the constructions, they are the dictators
If wind never blew and sun never shone then how would we be
Without the rain and the snow, day and night, how then could we see
When looking for your creator your master, look no further than the grass outside, the trees that bend and sway
God is nature, it's written in the stars, the pinnacle of vision can surely be the space that surrounds the space we occupy,.
The sheer magnitude of our existence measured against the seemingly infinite darkness that caresses and toys with us , like a newborn in its mothers clutches,, so greatly misunderstood by such a vast majority, its very presence strikes to the core of your soul, forcing the mind to question, the mind shall, and does answer with an explanation that will either be satisfactory, enough and will incur no more than an external influence dictating to internal workings, or you will dive deeper into the rabbit hole and rest never until truth rhyme and reason homogenize into a vision of perfection that blinds and stuns.
The voice you hear inside is the wind of reason whistling, it is the sound of grass growing , hot lava flowing, the burning crackle of a forest at war , the sound of rain on a concrete floor,
The spirit and your soul, it is the burning glow from the sun and the freezing fragmentations of warmth comfort and hospitality, this is you at large.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 7:18 PM UTC
I was an empty slate once
And young
Now I am filled with
With what exactly?
With what that makes up
My identity
With fragments that make up
The way I love
With what that attracts
And all those things that I discard
And all those things that I want
But don't have
That I'm worth
But beyond reach
And I sit
Upon dying grass
Selfishly for my own needs
They suffer a little bit more
I sigh
Because the slate that I am
Filled with unknowns and fragmentations
All long for balance and question and doubt
Every step I take
Wondering if it leads me closer or further
From the harmony
I unrealistically, desperately seek
Which I know will inevitably lead to the dead end and void that I still feel everyday
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 11:37 AM UTC