"frequency" poems
We want to see ourselves
see ourselves
because we're afraid that nobody else will
ever want to capture us
in a camera flash- so we take our own pictures.
Click. Our front camera becomes
the one minute we had hoped our fathers had for us
when he wasn't busy on that same phone, speaking,
not clicking. Without us.
Or it becomes the one minute we had hoped
that our lovers would hold us
before they settled on to someone
with more likes,
more comments,
more friends,
more happiness...
than we could ever wait for.
We are impatient
like the frequency of data on our profiles:
here are our feelings now... here
are our feelings again, five minutes later,
performing for social algorithms
in place of photographers
besides ourselves who
see ourselves.
But our ignited pixels,
and overstuffed inboxes,
and masturbatory statuses,
and glittering timelines,
and social everything-
are popularity contests
that all of us are losing.
Yet still we want to see ourselves
see ourselves
even though we are afraid
of what we know is true...
...Because what difference
is a poem to a tweet
besides the number of characters
that we wish we had to populate our own stories?
Please let us be different,
just like everyone else.
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 3:42 PM UTC
son spreads knee blood into ******* &/or
sidewalk chalk.
mixes reds to pinks with head cracking asphalt.
of god & country.
of soggy bread in a lunch-bag; snackpack readied.
he skates.
the concussed ****** of booming youth.
omega he:
to the wolf pack outers.
breathing love of summer, he
is the son drunk on hi-c
& burping.
watching teenaged supersoakers yodel
on a bridge.
florida.
son sneaks out late to rationalize
the city’s features
under strange light & love of nightly people.
boy sculpts body out of beast,
turned dark corners.
arrives swollen.
his father erects a roofed flattop in the backyard slab
with flood light electronics taught to worship
the shred.
mother rattles the blender
on the kitchen outskirts, ***** breathed
& nearing with hugs.
blister-itched.
glossed folds of scar tissue.
those days on summer-beyond when the neighborhood pulsates.
with satellite dishes tuneforking high-frequency vibrations
from outerspace & pigeons explode.
son’s ears bleed, &
the television goes unwatched.
he snaps plank & ankle protein, refurbishing
his legs into iron-rods
or wands of summer anthem.
cold war.
he empties sugar-sweat & toxins
into the storm-drain.
essence of wet heat, skin pinched, & friend
of ghosts.
a three legged dog lay in the shade
leisurely watching the boy skate
on endless.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
I Am The Sunshine
Upon This Land
I Am The Pure Love
Of Woman & Man
Creatures Of Sea
Creature Of Sand
Creatures Obove Trees
I Am Sunshine
Im Feeling The Heat
I Am Sunshine
Love Shining In Me
Through My Eyes
Timeless Sweets
I Am Purity
Healing All That Need
A Calling Of Leap
The Falling Of Leaves
That Tracends To Beauty When
Waters Affection Harvest The Neat
Harvest The Trees
Harvest The Fruits & Vegetables
For All Us To Eat
God Were Sunshine
I Am You & You Are Me
Realms Of Angels
Elves Mermaid Reefs
Purity
Illumniated With A Sphere In Me
Its Clear To See
I'm Near The Sea
Abundance Prosperity
Inside Manifested Through Charity
Expand Consious Clairty
Increase Awarness
Perception Cherry Trees
Beautiful Judgment Free
Free To Be We So Let's Just Breathe
I Love You , You Love Me
Meditation Vibratatin At The Peak Of My Frequency
Elvish Whispers In The Breeze
Angels Untangle The Tangled
I Angle Dreams
The Frequency Of Jesus
Is Needed
Let It Seep Through
You May Not See Him
But He Sees You
Bianry Ritual 3 Help Darknes Nailed
I'm From An Elvish Realm
Where Fairy's Bleed Blue
Its Easy To Relate
Escape The Hate With Aatral Gates
Be True
Be You Sunshine Light Bright
Right Through Ooh
I Feel It In My Soul
From Outer Space
Down My Face Waist & Shoes
Normal Is So Distant
Weird Is JDifferent
& Difrent Is Just So Cool
Sune Shine Amazon Fine
Island Side
Frequency High
Twin Soul Flame Is Feeling My Vibe
Pure Dear Come Here
Feel The Kundalini Rise
Eye To Eye
Hands On Back Of Thighs
Hearts Hugging So Tight
Protected By The Eye
Private Meeting Souls Singing Ocean Side
Stars Cry Body's Weaving Greeting
Gentle Screaming Oh My
Dna Embedded With Electric Healing Rhymes
Were Amazing Gazeing Sunshine
Breathe Release The Beast
No Need To Find
All Is Within So Grin Ya Chin
Your In Ya Win
Sunshine Sunshine Fill My Fins
Swimming Through
Realms Of Elevish Kin
Affection Covers My Skin
I Am Sunshine
Sing It Again
Sunshine
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 11:54 PM UTC
Aegri Somnia Vana (Latin): a sick man's dreams; hallucinations
In the country of the blind,
the one eyed men are kings
So condemn what you don't understand
**C
O
N
S
U
M
E**
It's more alluring to feed the machine
**C
O
N
F
O
R
M**
Is your life the masterpiece you dreamt of painting?
From out of the depths,
Comes Father Time to devour your /follie de grandeur
Your blissful ignorance
Your wishful thinking
**O
B
E
Y**
It's all I can do to preserve a calm mind
Or try
But I'd rather play follow the leader
I'm plagued by my cognitive processes
It haunts me
And my inability to bring luminescence
to the infinite shadows swirling around me
Don't you know by now your essence of life
manifests in the vibrancy of your frequency?
Philosophy or logic
It's a Love > Fear dichotomy
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 7:56 AM UTC
The singleness of mind
as the pavement lobotomizes you.
No forks in the track
at any point.
from point A
to point B
Employ your limbs or you might fall asleep
as you are serenaded
by strange music
from universes
just discovered.
Some universal truth tough to explain.
How every galaxy
in every glint
on this desert road
is, with precise frequency, interrupted
by that yellow stripe
running in intervals down eternity lane
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
claude: battles tabletop.
reaches for maple syrup, into breakfast,
& breaks down puking.
the girlfriend/abortion situation.
the cash
& cream corn.
smells of deeper spring.
grandma & her bible.
to pray.
to eat lunch.
to television &
honey blunt the relief of a sunday night.
lily: into decay.
into dark days of her america.
detox: she breathes on vapor. sweet leaf.
sweats the heat & dead-dreams off. off on wavelengths &
resonance::: sound therapeutics,
at 528.111 hz,
enhanced dream frequency. she falls
into bliss. into
unopened codons & the rigor
of vibrational analog.
love cassette.
achilles: wheelchair-bound & boning
still. gripping ***
the girl & couch.
the couch & modern warfare.
old warfare: harvest of limbs.
he crawls across the lawn to pick strawberries.
thumbs the dirt for entrance
to another world. smokes a jar
of roaches, as monument
to his second generation revival.
cool.
wallace: & the zebra jeep.
red rock monkeywrenched billboards & the ****** of flame upon milk factory.
chemical factory.
fertilizer bomb///return/
to town & grotto.
porch-light wood & breath of bong-rotation.
the babylon journeyman,
embroiled in plots against the order.
to simply disappear.
to portal away.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
We are so close, but not just by physical touch;
I can feel you the way I feel my cheeks warm up,
after you have said something
that inevitably causes me to blush.
Its as though our souls are connecting
on the same frequency
radiating off the core of this Earth.
This pleasure is unnoticed by most,
but we can feel it
like we feel the blood dripping down our thighs
on a substandard night.
Before we started talking, so many years ago,
I never believed in true love
or really love at all.
I always assumed it was just all in the head,
and two people could only connect to a point,
unless you were related to each other.
After the first year and a half or so of talking to you regularly,
you proved me wrong.
You proved what I grew up believing
for 16 to 17 years was completely false.
For if I had never met you,
to this day, I more than likely would of continued preaching
to myself, that everyone else
who has experienced this feeling called
'love' was insane.
Life without you would of still been bearable,
but only because I would still be lost in ignorance.
I am more than grateful you walked out of your way
to meet up with me that night three summers ago.
I owe you so much, and will cherish every moment
I'm blessed with standing by your side.
I'll make it a point to provide a nurturing life for you,
one worth living for.
You are my world, my inspiration,
the main reason I look forward to waking up,
or falling asleep cuddled in your lovely arms.
I cannot wait to see you later today and hug you,
while my heart races with satisfaction
like the first time you put your arm around me.
This is more than just some fairy-tale,
this is still the beginning steps of our long journey together.
So we mustn't give up when things go south,
for if we do,
it will be the undoing
of what our relationship has always been about.
You truly are my best friend,
the one person who'll never let me fall
if you know you are capable of preventing it,
even if i don't want your help at all. I appreciate that,
even when my words or actions do not acknowledge it.
You truly are the only reason i was able to climb out of that dark lonely tunnel of agonizing depression;
for everyone else either dragged me father down or walked out.
You are my life saver, my sweet guardian angel.
I love you, my dearest, Chris, forever and always.
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC
*he is screaming but no one can hear him
she is singing but no one listens
he is lost but no one is looking for him
she is searching and finds that she is alone*
words go unanswered
no matter what is said
they fall upon deaf ears
and reverberate into deep unknown places
an orchestra in the ocean
performed in a foreign frequency
a song lost in translation
heard by many
but meaningful to none
*he is asking but no one answers
she is begging but no one gives
he is following but no one leads
she is leading but no one will follow*
uniqueness is your downfall
strength lies in being the same
in possessing
the inherited dialect of survival
that cannot be achieved
it is a birth right
as natural as your name
but instead
of deserved solace
you received the gift
of 52 hertz of loneliness
*he is calling but receives no answers
she is crying but finds no comfort
he is sinking but no one knows
she is dying and no one cares*
doomed to drift
through bottomless, indigo twilight
being carried on the waves
of your own erie lament
the sound of your sadness
is the cause of your isolation
your desperate song
remains your only hope
and it will never cease
someone, someday
will hear you
and answer
your heart wrenching pleas
someone, someday
singing love songs in the deep
Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 4:36 PM UTC
Teetering on her baby legs
A newborn with a Solo cup
bombastic red with a few
undulating ribs
Held firmly in her hand
Is this her first or her third?
Somnambulant yet eager
And just a little out of place
In a foreign territory
On newly contested lands
She stumbles through a raucous crowd
Or was it just white noise?
She’s lost her companions
Somewhere
Although they could very well be close at hand
In the distance she can make out
Laughing faces
Bodies moving to and fro
Spilling forward, little messes
Throwing back cheap libation
She passes through a room and out the door
Into the out-of-doors
Someone following her unbeknownst
Watching her cautious, curious steps
And when she turns and sees the blur standing
She greets it
“Hail Fellow!”
Bouncing from variable to variable
Frequency to frequency
Confident and in command
Of a seemingly controlled chaos
He approaches smiling and holds out his hand
Anonymous
Having drawn her attention from the stars
That she could not find above
Leaning against the garage’s eastern wall
She takes it awkwardly
Tentative she smiles back reassured
Wobbling she returns standing alongside him
Or was she in front?
Purposeful and en route
Emboldened by his presence
And how the way was parted before her
Just by his being there.
By being so close.
She felt vaguely special
it showed in her half-smile
Cloaked in bangs
She held her head just a little bit higher
The co-conspiratorial glances
Met by boys eyes
And shes
Went unseen by the girl with the
Solo cup
One of tens upon tens upon tens
A coven would have known
It’s better not to
However.
She was shown a seat to rest
And her cup refilled
She takes a sip and smiles again
She takes another and then a gulp
That spills
He takes the cup away
And places it on the low table
Suggests she go to the restroom upstairs and get herself
Sorted
Embarrassed she is relieved for direction
Someone knows what’s going on
And his caring
Taking the time
His kind eyes
She’s usually alone
She waddles up the stairs to find
a toilet and a mirror
God she thinks
I look a mess
She tries to fix it
The hair
The eyes
The lips
The dress
The stomach
The *******
The thighs
She shrugs her shoulders at her reflection
Exhales and steps out again
To find him standing there
waiting for more.
She wants another cup.
She’s missing her cup.
I’ll get you the cup he says
In just a second.
Come.
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 3:53 PM UTC
*The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will be live-*
The revelation will be streaming through your Windows
laptops and smartphones.
The revolution will be blogged
Tweeted, liked, shared, RE-blogged RE-tweeted
and Stumbled Upon in between
midnight ************ sessions
sandwiched between funny cat memes.
The resolution will be HD.
It's evolution will be high speed.
The whistles will be blown at with frequency.
The revolution will be commented on;
Scrutinized.
Vandalized.
Scandalized.
Stylized and advertized.
People will pay attention -
People will forget to mention
that some stand up, occupy, riot
and die.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution be streaming live
through the filter of your choice.
The facts will be democratized.
The democracy will be corporatized.
The corporations will personified.
People, objectified -
Spied on and villainized
The powers that be will will lie, deny, and try to justify.
The people will be disenfranchised.
Prisons will be privatized.
Death drones will be utilized.
No one will bat an eye.
Because revolution will be multiplied, over-simplified,
The violence, normalized.
Lives, sacrificed
to satiate the Golden Calf's appetite.
The revolution will not be televised
but Jerry Springer will...
Go figure.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 12:45 AM UTC
unravel, untied, our love my love has died
it was yours then mine, but now it rests in pockets of time
pockets of sunshine, rack my memories to re-find
recollect your light, re-experience your mind
maybe if I hold on to it tight enough, the frequency i’ll be riding on
will re-attract you back, to re-tether our hands together again
maybe that's too idealistic, maybe that's against the laws of physics
maybe I am just as stupid as this dream is
maybe I am broken for a reason
I don't know, I just thought it was special
the most saturated jewel tones
I don't know, I just thought it was something
the most beautiful to the most unknown
Mar 27, 2022
Mar 27, 2022 at 8:37 AM UTC
Different than anything ever experienced, it’s ecstasy.
Her body reacts to his, vibes on the same frequency.
Gyrating their bodies-- her breath hot and breathing heavily.
Her eyes fixed on his, lips, each kiss placed perfectly.
penetrating deeply, pleasure loves company.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
Feelers in tune with the universe
Synchronicity is what I crave
But when no one knows your frequency
You must wait for them to catch the wave
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 12:45 AM UTC
and suddenly on a random frequency
my whole family moved
we were in the car
Pa started humming
then mom joined, and then us
in that moment i realized
how safe
how happy
how loved
how satisfied
I am.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 3:48 PM UTC
Today again I saw a gate in the sky.
Streams of pale light trickled through it.
I no longer looked at the sun, only straight ahead,
My silhouette reflected in the ***** tram window.
I looked farther, hypnotized,
sipping words veiled in the dust of the autumn sun.
Dry spaces. Leaves.
Golden bile sparkled,
And no one saw this wonder in the sky.
At the stop, in the crowd rushing by,
An experiment took place:
A man wrapped in copper threads.
He searched for relief while anger bound his soul.
He fought the air, attacked with words,
Like a puppet moving in convulsions.
Hands clenched, anger in his eyes.
“This will pass, this will fade,” I thought,
Moving to another car.
A primal tremor. A change of frequency.
Someone is turning the **** of our universe.
How many more cells of the body will they spoil
Before it is ground to ashes?
Until all ends in colonization,
A reward for micro-souls from another world.
People sunk in their minds
do not hear the hum of strings.
And I plead in my thoughts:
listen, look, be your reality.
Behind the gate a hundred weeks ago,
a crackling gramophone plays.
My calm relieves someone’s thoughts.
Somewhere, thousands of hours ago,
the past becomes the future.
Next time when you pass by me, indifferent,
the warmth of my thought will warm your
Dry, wrinkled hands.
I will never know You, and I would like to know
what you will say when these trembling words arrive on the wind.
In the autumn glow of the setting sun,
Like a gentle brushing of leaves at the next opening of the gate.
I will be there in the crack like a stray thought
that wanted to become immortality.
Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 5:59 PM UTC
By the 1960s, a disillusionment with Nationalism and war was permeating within the public consciousness.
Man: jazz. Jazz! Everything sounds like jazz when you lend your hears an oscilloscope. You know what j-a-z-z sounds like? Well, it’s sweet, serendipitous or nonsensical, nihilistic. Modern in stainless steel or anachronistic in brass. Jazz! So what? Jazz sounds like anything that’s everything and vice versa. It’s a limb of that omniscient looker up and over: the tune itself. Oh, the tune? It’s what lies between your fingers when you’re writing, forging, loving, giving, perishing. You strut with the frequency of a conduit, but an unaware one at that. A change is gonna come in mere years, I know that much. Everyone will be deloused in the pain of the world; Mother Sympathy for all, even the charlatans who hide behind their crimson fur! All I’m saying is, whoever brings it ought to be from this place. I can’t fathom a recalcitrant extraterrestrial handling our own business at the expense of their planet’s water supply. I’m excited for whatever comes, believe me. So long as it ends me and with me.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 7:45 PM UTC
It’s the way colors would taste if you could eat them. White would taste of contentment, yellow of happiness, purple of infatuation, red of passion, and pink would taste of endearment. Pick your poison; they’ll all be the death of you in the end.
It’s the way it smells when it first begins to rain. Its aroma lingers like vanilla, fresh linen, or an open flame that’s sparks kiss your fingertips. It clings to your clothes and in your hair to be smelled by others around you. To some, this scent may be too strong.
It sounds like complete silence amidst a roaring thunder. It’s at a frequency only you can hear and comprehend. It’s a ringing in your ears that leaves them throbbing or the echo of voices when you’re submerged in water --- starting loud and progressively fading away with the sunlight that rests on the water’s horizon.
It’s the way butterfly kisses feel, faintly tickling your cheeks when they’re damp with fresh tears. Or the way your body shudders at the touch of a cold hand and your temperature elevates, leaving a numbness where fingers traced over your skin.
It’s the way a sea of grass looks when you’re crawling on your hands and knees. It’s the sight of two hands clasped with fingers intertwined. It’s what causes your eyes to widen when you see the expression that lingers on her face when she thinks you’re not looking. The look that says all that can’t be spoken with words.
It’s all the power that lies within that four letter, one syllable word. The word that redefines every one of your five senses. ..
Love.
Love may be like a lot of things, but it’s not like falling. I never fully understood the expression “falling in love” --- probably because it isn’t accurate, and doesn’t make sense. Falling is what people do on a daily basis --- love is when someone catches you.
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
Once upon a time there was a girl that couldn’t tell stories.
One night, she wanted to tell someone a story
Because it was dark and she longed to sleep
And she never seemed to be able to sleep
Even though she had heard so much ********
About counting sheep and drinking hot cocoa
She knew none of it worked
And it was no use being hopeful
But little children always asked to have bedtime stories read to them
And she guessed it helped
Because children sleep and they dream and they imagine
…she wished she could imagine
So she tried to tell a story
Because there was no one to tell her one
But because there was no one to tell her a story
There was no one to hear her story
She was lonely
So lonely that she didn’t even want to talk to herself anymore
(Something she did with frequency)
Even she wanted to leave herself alone
She was irritated by her shadow
And this was why she wanted to tell stories
So she could forget about the loneliness
And sleep
But when she tried to think about something; about anything
She found it hard to imagine
Because her dreams weren’t images anymore
Only feelings
So she decided to tell a story to nobody
About how she felt
Rather than what she couldn’t imagine
And couldn’t create
It was about what she hates
And how uncomfortable she is
So… she fixated her eyes at a spot on the wall
That would listen to her intently
She took a breath
And said:
“Once upon a time…
…
…
…
I hate. I’m uncomfortable.”
Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 11:52 PM UTC
TW: r#pe culture
anxiety-riddled,
my head is a constant battle of sounds
and feelings crashing
like waves into each other;
interference scares me.
as does being out of rhythm,
missing too many beats — i am
conflict-averse but i am also
realistic:
i know that
sound travels faster
through solids and liquids
than through the air,
can be distorted
and interfered
into oblivion—
that when
push comes to shove,
whisper networks
can only reach so far.
scores of screaming matches
between metoo advocates and r#pist apologists
crescendos of nails
scraped across a board
feel a bit too familiar
like listening to white noise and broken records on repeat
while scrolling through toiletpaperworthy nonapologies
witnessing victims collectively crying in an orchestra of agony
and then be blamed for attention-seeking at best,
of causing their own suffering at worst.
although it pains me to listen to these tragic tunes,
it is amusing how so many mishear this collective choir as
survivors celebrating with silly receipts in cancel parties
serving blistering hot tea sweetened by revenge - no
all this is anything but
cathartic.
it’s to make people aware
that the same melodies are sung or screamed
by those who suffered similar pains
and so that those of a similar frequency know
there are those who listen
that their voice matters
and we are not alone.
- 20210315
May 28, 2021
May 28, 2021 at 12:44 AM UTC
The lustful gleaming of the ocean sky,
Keeps me walking in a nice delight.
I am high on the river top,
Like a kite trying to dress up the light.
My fears, dreads, and tears,
Are washed away so tremendously,
That my hearts begins to beat with frequency.
I am no longer the naïve, too scared to live child,
That enveloped me into a cradle of sheets.
My freedom came about,
And my life has just rose to a shout.
The people that I find,
No longer frighten me,
Because I am changed, positively.
No longer do I hide inside my windows, you see.
I ride on to the risks that were forbidden to me.
I conquered my rules I made,
And find that connection is key to fate.
Black and white, was so last year;
I am now a full blown rainbow who dares,
To be strong, intelligent, and keen.
For my confidence is finally in place,
Where it should have been years ago.
I know I can, and I know I will,
Be the shining star, I didn’t know to be.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
I feel like he was created just for me.
I think im holding hands with Destiny.
He Encourages me to be The Woman The Father has presdestined me to be.
Hes like a dream given unto me.
He sees straight thru me like he can hear my thoughts telephatically.
Got me fiening for him like jodeci
Plunging into the depths of his soul's love as I enjoy The journey of his story....
Hes The Instructor of love and Im the student thinking critically.
He has left An impact on my life tremedously.....
Im drowning in his love ever so endlessly.
He is Waves from the oceans currents of
pure bliss
And I......I am his ocean shore that his waters of love kiss.
He's like a precious treaure I have discovered.
Unlocking the chest to look inside and see what I have uncovered.
Im happy for what I have found
Hes A King worthy of Sparkling crown.
I wish I could wear his love Like a White Flowing Wedding Gown.
I feel he completes me like a sentence Yah is the subject, He's the predicate and im the noun.
With his words he painted a vivid picture of me
Its a picture with definition, depth, and clarity.
Its almost like he captured every little detail so Carefully.
As if I were an image of an angel made so Heavenly.
Apparently,
In his eyes Im a portrait crafted very delicately.
A beauty constructed with integrity.
Sparkling like the waters of the deep blue sea.
To Be held in The Artistic nature of his Creativity
Is a Wonderful sight to see
With his poetry I see The illustration of his spiritual Imagery
I caressed the Compassion of his vibes that discerned The ambience of his Frequency.
His Energy Sweetly Speaks so pleasntly
His Diction shows me his style Musically.
His wisdom shows the level of his Maturity
And it makes me drawn to him as if Its a force was pulling me closer into his gravity
Ill admit this experience is kind of scary
But My lovely Beautiful Mahogany
theres no place I rather be than with you standing by my side next to me.
Feeling as if I am Soaring like a bird so Free.
He Surely bring out the Best characteristics of me.
I Believe Im Subconsciously holding hands with destiny
#destiny #serendipity #Love #beauty
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 12:59 AM UTC