"frenetically" poems
photograph One:
i see you, and the first things i see are your dark eyes
you sit beside me with open hands and make me laugh over coffee.
photograph Two:
one night i notice your mouth. you haven't drank but i have.
still all i see are your eyes when you first lean in.
i'm aroused and utterly haunted.
photograph Three:
you're so pale i want to colour you in. i want to make you alive.
you're dancing so frenetically, my marionette man
and i can't tell who tugs the strings.
photograph Four:
It's after midnight and you've stormed from my house snarling
like a wolf waiting to die.
"i'm poison" you spit. "i'll poison you, too".
"you and me." i plead. "i won't run".
photograph Five:
it's a cloudy day. you tell me you love me without looking me in the eye.
photograph Six:
you're standing in the open doorway against winter wind
dragging a half-quit cigarette and i am hugging my knees on your couch
waiting for you to calm
our eyelashes smeared chilly with tears.
photograph Seven:
you are lying on the floor, heaving with sobs.
i am holding you as tight as i can because i don't know what to do
and i'm afraid if i let you go you will cremate in the heat of your darkness
already we are both husks.
photograph Eight:
we lie awake in your cold bed and we are strangers
you will not touch me and i feel naked.
photograph Nine:
i awoke at 4am from a dream of you that was a lie
many months after i fled from your ghost
and like an infected wound
it still throbs hotly that i could not save you
and that for so long i could not save myself from you
the dark-eyed boy with the angel tattoo
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 11:54 AM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphorias of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix are pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 11:35 AM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphoria of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix is pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
Six giggling hours,
Spill ideas all over the floor.
Time tiptoes backwards
As the lights wear rainbow halos,
Spinning you round until you are nauseous,
Dizzy, and confused.
Where the boring and mundane
Shed their cloths and **** you all night.
The paradox
Interrupts cluster headaches
And memories come to life.
Dead family members **** your forehead
Turning up the gas of your emotions.
Opening your pupils
So they can swallow the unseen.
Intense feelings of wonder,
Like needles of insight,
Unraveling what you thought was true
And buzzing frenetically
Around your body
Throughout your bloodstream
And into your brain.
Where philosophical thoughts and giddy daydreams
Tickle each other into submission,
Swimming through fear and spiritual understanding,
Like waves crashing relentlessly throughout your cells.
Dancing in the day-glo thundershowers
Giving life to the dead ground.
The walls come alive,
Stroking your face
Like a long lost mother you thought you had forgotten.
Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 8:15 AM UTC
my ***** ache
as tongue trails
****** to ******
licking, *******
engulfing each
tender breast
squeeze of
buttocks, lifting
sweetness to my
lips; tongue parting
labials, diving deep
into her honey ***
savoring nature's
nectar like a bee
to flower casting
away her inhabitions
or doubts as flames
of passion licks with
intensity searing
us in ecstasy
branding her,
loving her flesh
with kisses and
sweat becomes
steam in the
afterglow of our
nakedness
touching, inhaling
scent of ***
tasting one
another
frenetically
in
abandoned
ache
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:41 PM UTC
Sunlit water...angelic morse code--
non local, supercharged.
Where undulant ripple, at an angle,
sun at its angle, flashed sparks of
double exposure.
Frenetically shifting focal points,
suffusing an animated luminosity.
A one dimensional constellation
clustered en mass, optic tempo of
ebb and flow.
Sonogram of amorphous light,
whose: white, yellow, green, blue--
integrated auric stipple seemingly
pulled skyward.
Death neared whilst thee afoot...
at second attention the soul's
wrenched from the animal...
transmission complete.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 9:12 PM UTC
truth
could be
simply, falsehood
in a different perspective!
' God particle'
particle physics is
frenetically
searching for
could equally be called
'Goddamn particle'!
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 12:15 PM UTC
I chose you
Like the butterfly
Chose the sun.
Like the moth is
Nocturnally drawn
To the moon
And any other
Illuminated illusion.
Frenetically chasing
In a trance-like dance,
We wade through
Day and night
Like winged creatures.
Expressive messengers,
Speaking a language
In metaphor
Available to all
Who can hear
Symbols and scriptures
Written by an architect
Keen enough on details
To give day and night
Its doting darlings.
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 8:31 PM UTC
Formidable in flow and essence,
beauty is her power, cascading like her dark hair,
an invading army of one,
a natural seductress, at ease,
under the red banner of amour,
held out in front, she advances;
all impregnable forts willingly fall.
Her amatory machinations are
perfectly crafted.
She is a strategist,
when each of his senses advances,
towards her, she retreats,
when they frenetically chase her,
she stuns with her soft power,
the scent of this woman, makes him weak,
loose his bearing,
even when his senses are overpowered,
he poses like the victor of her passionate heart.
His every weakness she knows better than him,
but each moment covers up to make him reassured.
She is a colonizer,
glib talk, kind acts, a heart glittering like gold.
Oh how well she reigns over his heart!
She essays divide and rule,
each of his senses has
their way of seeking gratification from her.
Once he is perfectly under her control,
she transforms in to a whirlwind of love,
lifts him like a leaf,
and send him flying in pursuit,
of the high point,
consciousness can reach at the present state-
that feels like death, in a miniature form.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 6:08 AM UTC
Do I really have to completely and painfully forget about us, deeply and frenetically in love, passionately devouring each other?!
Must I abandon my sincere dream of being joyfully and profoundly yours?
How can I escape being so obsessed with all of you? I’m surprised by my own strength, acting as if none of the turmoil around us matters.
I can’t overcome this silence and emotionless moment, but I swear it’s all due to the melancholy inside me.
I’m depressed, yet you’re still the one and only who can drive me crazy.
May 4, 2024
May 4, 2024 at 11:59 AM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphoria of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix is pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 3:04 PM UTC
after a week of dried paint chips
and plastic shoe laces
the starved little mouse
ate the dainty aqua blue food pellets
near the big red door
through spider webs
behind the refrigerator
finally full
his guts in a knot
he keeled over hemorrhaging
but at least he wasn't driven mad
with hunger anymore
although he was tormented
with writhing and choking up ****** tidbits
towards his final destination
a knotting rigor mortis
he could be seen
laying flat on his back
withered
frozen in a suspended flutter frenzy
his little limbs clawing frenetically
to the heavens
having dared the sin of gluttony
he paid his penitence
and last absolution
for living large
as a house mouse
in the cruel wilds
of a treacherous world
on the crucifix of the human kingdom
land of the roaming
Godzilla's
where solace and kindness has no quarter
for a starved hard lived little mouse
who died
as providence would have it
by Gods infinite wisdom and glory
like a rat
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 8:05 AM UTC
FROM
this creek,
where the
once profuse
flow of water
dry up
every passing
minute,
the fish,
that once swam,
gleefully down stream
unsuspectingly,
slowly die
frenetically beating
their tail
on naked sand bed
TO
the acme of
the galaxy that
invites with the signals
of changing patterns of light,
there is much distance
if you measure the
intergalactic
space
but it's only an arm's length
if you travel by other means.
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 8:22 AM UTC
Do not be disturbed
If I lack the ability
To sugar-coat
The beautifully human
The tragically human
Or
If I refuse to try rewrite
The book of life
Do not be disturbed
By us
Mad mischief-makers
Us
Multi colored misfits
Who wander the market place
All dressed up
With nowhere to go
But here
Do not be disturbed
By us frenetically tainted
Us
Silly sprouted beings
Who speed the highways
On a wild goose chase
To wherever
Dearest do not be disturbed
If I regurgitate
Some heavenly-scented hairball
From some holy rap sheet
From some wasted wobbling wino
Do not be disturbed
If I smell a rat and show my teeth
Do not be disturbed
By the impending days ahead
When some grizzly goon
Some long-clawed nimbat
Some long-forgotten ghost
Coughs up and spits in your face
Of course be disturbed if you must
But the days are short and the hour is nigh
The time for braggards and barbies
Monsters and missionaries
For mystery and myth
Will soon quietly pass away
And you wont be able
To hear a pin drop
Dearest
Do not be disturbed.
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 6:02 AM UTC
After sunset
life gets hectic,
music sets fire to hearts,
night dies till the dawn comes.
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 1:49 AM UTC
Quickly he picked up
keenly examined
and seemed to admire
the handy penknife
with sharp blades,
quite functional,
she hurriedly pulled out
from the clutch she carries;
she was searching
frenetically for something
when it inadvertently
showed up, she deliberately
didn't pay attention
to his expressed curiosity,
yet her eyes adequately
answered his loud
unasked question.
In words he didn't ask WHY?
though it echoed in his eyes.
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 7:32 AM UTC
She tap, tap, tapped her cheap pen
on the yellowing paper.
The ****** paper stared back
a blank, unflinching glare.
Typical.
Frenetically, restlessly,
she set her own metronome faster
with the clicking of her pen
than the outdated clock sulking in the corner
could possibly keep up with.
Suddenly, decisively,
She pushed herself away from the desk.
The screech of the chair’s harsh legs
across a cold, unforgiving concrete floor
filled up the whole room with noise.
Noise was all around her,
empty noise,
invading her ears
her head
her brain.
Stop!
She needed them out.
The room was silent—
Save for her
and the sounds
of an old room
with a dying light
and a faded, ticking clock.
She closed her tired eyes and
drew deeply from the cigarette between her
thin, voiceless lips,
then smudged her little addiction out
leaving a burn stain at the top of her paper.
Might as well,
she figures,
not much good comin’ from this paper
anyways.
And anyways,
the flickering light
in this God-forsaken old office
wasn’t doing her any good, either.
She knew it was time to pack up,
head home,
but she needed this demon inside her
to work for her,
not against her.
‘Writers Anonymous’
that’s where she needed to be—
what she needed
to be a part of.
She had things to say.
And she couldn’t say them.
Flick, flick, bzzz.
The light sputtered,
limping dejectedly through it’s own current,
with a halfhearted commitment to shedding light.
Hanging over her head
just like the ideas
she couldn’t force her hand
to capture on paper.
They needed to be confined, here,
she knew.
These thoughts, buzzing around her head,
like the anxious flicking
and bzzing of the bulb dangling precariously above,
needed to be trapped in this paper,
immortalized externally,
a burden laid down
in incriminating ink before her.
That’s what she needed, she knew.
but no matter how often
or how hard
or how intense
she tap, tap, tapped her pen
on the rickety wooden desk
over the silent white paper
with the cigarette stain in the top corner—
those **** buzzing thoughts
cluttering up her brain
would keep sputtering through life.
Writers Anonymous.
That’s what she needed.
Jan 26, 2012
Jan 26, 2012 at 11:01 PM UTC
I don't know if it's a deity
or the DMT
DMing me
that it's my enemy
and that it sent me this
feeling of emptiness
in blank fields with no flowers
or green grass
just concrete towers
and broken glass
digging into my feet
agony during delete
dragging me to a steep
cliffside leap
this gift I reap
and drift to sleep
until I can't leave
the unending sea
bending me
its entropy
entering
like a centipede
frenetically
slinking down my spine
like a vulpine down a vine
no wine
or ****
can slow down its speed
no way to impede
what makes me bleed
which makes me seethe
seething to believe
there's nothing underneath
my broken glass feet
just an ash heap
I'll see lastly
before passing.
Mar 3, 2022
Mar 3, 2022 at 10:51 PM UTC
Purple hue spilled by
Frenetically painting dawn,
Made the world reborn!
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
The human being.
The doer of such good.
Also the doer of some of the darkest most
nefarious behavior ever witnessed on his planet.
The human being.
So imperfect.
So bi-polar.
So frenetically unbalanced.
Flawed.
The matter of factly cold blooded murderer
which doesn't bat an eye after its despicable
display of carnage .
Carnage that not even the creatures we call
"animals" are capable of.
Flawed.
You know the ones.
General Paul W. Tibbets, pilot of the Enola Gay.
The pilot that dropped "little boy" and murdered 140,000 people.
The pilot that was spared his own life to the age 92
while ending others before they even begun.
Flawed.
You know the ones.
The human "animals" such as...
the Charles Manson's.
The Saddam Hussein's and
the Adolf Hitler's of his world.
The fallen angel Satan, cast out of the heavens
during a war in the heavens never to return.
Flawed.
The drunken drivers that **** the innocent everyday.
The texting drivers that **** the innocent everyday.
The complainers.
The annoying bi-polar human being that complains
it is too hot.
Only to complain a short time later,
they are too cold.
Flawed.
The annoying human being that complains that their
garden and grass is in desperate need of rain.
This is the same human being that I have to listen to
complain in a supermarket checkout about how
they will have to dodge the raindrops when leaving the store,
such an inconvenience for them,unreal.
Flawed.
The humans that promise,
only to be filled with empty promises.
We live in a world full of empty promises.
"I swear to God" they strongly avow!
Perhaps that is their biggest problem in life right there.
Flawed.
The animal abusers and murderers that will one day
have to answer for their heinous crimes upon
God's most tame creations.
The alleged animals.
Only, they aren't the true "animals" that roam
and destroy God's Earth, no ,not at all.
That title belongs to the irrevocably flawed human being.
The ones that they themselves have brought many of
God's creations to the brink of extinction by their sheer ignorance.
Just to think....
It all began so so long ago with a man named Adam,
and a woman named Eve,
and we as God's most flawed creation
have never recovered.
Simply looking around me everyday,
I now see that we never will.....
Aug 29, 2019
Aug 29, 2019 at 6:24 AM UTC
We venture into the storm
Against my better judgment
(I’m ready to go home)
The wind kicks up
And a thousand
No
A million flower petals
Swirl around us frenetically.
Great beasts of raw, hungry light snap their jaws
Not so far away
You aren’t scared,
Your curls wild in the dark.
The storm, you say.
The storm, Mama!
The sirens, now,
And the rain,
And so many flower petals.
We turn and head back inside
To wait a little longer.
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 12:56 AM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphorias of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix are pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
Jul 2, 2022
Jul 2, 2022 at 12:01 AM UTC
I made her,
I made her fall for me
Likewise, I fed her with my poisoners words
likewise, she chew them; swallowed them
They diffused all over her body and soul
My vows driven her lunatic,
further so, she fell in love
She fell in love with me
She frenetically fallen for me
That's my drug, I poisoned her
I made her fall for me,
Further so, I'm momentarily confused
She's daft in idolatry with me
As a matter of fact
I'm momentarily confused
I shouldn't have made her
I was temporally,
Further so, I lied.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 2:57 AM UTC
Imagine the sun as a being
that reached into its chest
and began frenetically tearing
off excess layers...till The Heart
was reached, and every beam
became an arm of giving.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC