"fufillment" poems
that’s all I know, title, subject undisclosed,
new morn amourning arrives, when writing~writhing
hunger, comes and remains till fufillment,
sometimes, nagging, sometimes roaring, completion is
the satiation satisfaction when the pouring/
spilling is from within to without, topping off
the nearest receptacle with hugger-muggery,
beauty jumbled, elegantly jagged linen creased
the it of it, must be done, so my heart un-seizes,
breathing to nearly next to normal, yet the distance there
incroyable, inch or mile, meter matters not, until closed it’s a
chasm rupturing,
fingers grasping my temples, to hold the
jumbled tumbling innards within, redirected towards my
screaming fingertips, hoping, relief will come sooner,
making room until the throat and lungs engorged,
when~with this selfsame need returns
on the morrow
if, when,
my eyes open,
and yesterday itself
is a writ,
a realization accomplished
~~~~~~~
perhaps, you recognize yourself?
perhaps, you reconcile yourself?
Sep 26, 2023
Sep 26, 2023 at 9:54 AM UTC
~for immortality~
well,
wow
"busy with academics."
what an annoying nuisance
this living life's growing up
activities, just to keep you busy,
so much nicer to couch and
read 41 of ole natty's poetry,
in one humongous sitting!
now, take a for real break,
go for a walk, pick five words
a shopping list of five of life's
things that make you smile,
make you weep, and intertwine
them or define them separately,
best to spend your time a-writing,
alighting, upon empty pages that
plead for fufillment, that only
you, you, you, you, you, you
can provide, the data original,
the knowledge keen, the internalities
that you secret within, and spill ever
so carefully, what we await, most anxiously...
the truest path to immortality
nml
6:00 am
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 6:06 AM UTC
Running, painting, smoking, *** drinking, writing, reading, socializing... the fufillment these outlets give me are temporary. These dark thoughts within me are forever.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
Cult popularism overtakes my brain
Conformity rushing unwillingly, stiflingly, down my throat
The literature of the mind taken from me
By my own devices
The lure of the cliched mass' is oblivion
Fufillment of an expected mold
Individuality of thought drains away
May my overthinking of all be lost
In this teenage stereotype
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 9:15 AM UTC
We drank and became aware.
After a sneaky shot of whiskey.
The hispanic reminded myself.
The ingnorent Michael of sidharthas plan.
If he came now and toaday.
Could the sidhartha buddha search his own.
There are circumstanses to understand.
Sidhartha sidhartha. I read about the river.
Govinda found your nieve friend.
The man who would be disiple for the world.
Sidhartha would find somone elses journey.
Which in the making was his own creation.
In a epic adventure what's worth the struggle.
Its to easy and simple giving in.
Our sidhartha understood the noble Idea.
Which is make patience before accepting and believing what you have to.
In his unshaken morals he would become the buddha.
A soul every person needs to read about.
If they want fufillment in life.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 1:28 AM UTC
Love from a place of fufillment
never love to quench a lonely thirst
let your seams seep Self-alignment
from filling up your soul-needs first
externally so much noise can exist
but you have the power to quiet it
by making space for self-awareness
its _expansion_ is your assignment
don’t let this world distract you
from the Worth that You Shine with
all that you ever seek for isn’t lost but
deep down inside—_always it thrives_
and like gravity, it keeps tugging
at your _Soul to Arrive_
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
She,
voracious reader, nearly a book a day,
she loves Rushdie, Ishiguro, E. Stout,
and so many, many more, a daily add
to an ever growing list of auteurs, all
venerable and venerated, my little bits
pale, don’t even qualify to compare,
so what’s a poet to say, or feel, beside
tears in his eyes, so hereby withdraws his
awarded accolade, HGF,
His Greatest Fan
now that there is a vacancy, looking for
fufillment, now that there is a hollowed
hallow plus a clogged artery, side by side,
both within,
even
an officialized fossilized a
doctor declaration of “chronic heart failure”
who knew docs still diagnosed love sickness?
loss of love could manifest
itself so decisively physically,
and yet I blame her not, and
thank her for the inspiration,
for all the poems birthed in
her presence, and what swill
will /may follow will never be as good,
for memories inevitable yellowing,
discoloration infestation inevitable,
earn my pallor palest poverty
and like a used car, good enough
for daily trips to the office, but not
for cross country trips,
and perhaps
that means,
only smaller,
somewhat
used up,
and e v e n
not only,
only love poetry
open to direction
road trip to
Sweet Sorrow Land
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 2:54 PM UTC
Incompossible
<>
not mutually possible:
INCONSISTENT, INCOMPATIBLE
<>
inconsistent, yes,
incompatible, never
*we have lived and loved
each other since
a singular moment
in grade school
profound!
(what a perfect compositional word!)
friendship, intuitively embraced,
circumstances dictated an
on/off interspersed
coexistence decades in length,
a hit or miss geographical
distancing,
thst technology overcame
with no evaporative loss
of
sensational connectivity
across great times and
greater distances
we trialed and
errored our landlines,
for a time,
we lived together,
then nearby,
with other spouses, who knew
and tolerated, our exceptional
to the rules of coexistences,
we were closer than close,
the space between us was of wafer size, nearly invisible to the naked eyes of others, but unchanging
as much as it was unique and
uncharted
periods of absence of years measurable
and the first conversation
began exactly where the long ago prior had ceased
never fully accepted,
surely not ever
fully
tolerated + understood,
we stumbled upon a word,
incompossible
that captured the
drama, the hopefulness,
the hopelessness of
our separated conjoining
as a summary perfect
of us
a true tale,
a novel of pro-found
loss and gain
that cannot be be told
or totaled,
a sum of summary,
an unavowed marriage of
souls with no legality,
and yet
by its very in-completed nature,
it was perfected by it's very unending undefinable defiance
of definition:
we made the
incompossible,
possible,
the incompatible,
patible,
unfounded by circumstances,
unbounded in our intuition,
we yet live in a hopeful
state of unfulfilled totality of*
almost fufillment
May 30, 2025
May 30, 2025 at 2:23 PM UTC
<>
(for patty m)
*"always love hearing from you,
it's like a kiss in the wind"*
we are intimate
though never ever close,
but faithful closer
familiar,
though our convivial roads
are uncrossed, except and accept
in the delicate pearl inlay
of our poesy path
our common way station,
where can we exchange private confidentialities
publicly, above and beyond,
the plain and ordinary everyday
intimacies
from the balcony of the sixteenth floor,
I can see the horizons holding
our shared land together.
the wind blows by,
from the Atlantic crossing,
continuing on its
westward ** way
wind comes inquiring as is its wont,
as a faithful and familiar evening-tide messenger,
desirous, needy for its wantings fufillment,
to be a deliverer of
deliverances and
all kind of tidings,
sent by the
in absentia
I post a poem
the letters scatter heavenward,
no worries,
the amorphous wind,
will Oz like
reassemble them
in holy order and
brush them
across your face,
tickle the lips and eyelashes,
still moist from
missing a man who was
intimate different,
in a lifetime way
and that kiss,
that postage paid,
the meager cost
the wind receives,
for a mission well accomplished,
is transferred to you and yours
to enable you to decode
this implausibly but-all-to
plausible,
devoted message
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 7:03 PM UTC
My love for others is formed in desperation
I lose myself in the broken valleys of their eyes
Because I've lost you across a pit as wide as beauty
And as deep as jealousy
I fight to keep my independence
By depending on the abandoned and lonely
I'm so tired of you
But I've got no one else
Gloved hands stroke my hair
Yet they are mine
I've created a hand to hold in the winter of my desperation
And it's as cold as everything
I succumb to shameful acts of self fufillment
To protect my heart from the the anguish that awaits me in your arms
But do I know?
Can I know what truly waits in the shadow you cast?
In my desolation, not only did I lose hope
But hope lost me
In a dark world of unfulfilled expecations, their hues biting at me heels
I am lost in the invisible tragedy of the fall
I have succumbed to the despondency
And expect it to suffice
Replace what I refuse and fear to ask you for
Voiceless, I am begging you
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 11:02 PM UTC
My love for others is formed in desperation
I lose myself in the broken valleys of their eyes
Because I've lost you across a pit as wide as beauty
And as deep as jealousy
I fight to keep my independence
By depending on the abandoned and lonely
I'm so tired of you
But I've got no one else
Gloved hands stroke my hair
Yet they are mine
I've created a hand to hold in the winter of my desperation
And it's as cold as everything
I succumb to shameful acts of self fufillment
To protect my heart from the the anguish that awaits me in your arms
But do I know?
Can I know what truly waits in the shadow you cast?
In my desolation, not only did I lose hope
But hope lost me
In a dark world of unfulfilled expecations, their hues biting at me heels
I am lost in the invisible tragedy of the fall
I have succumbed to the despondency
And expect it to suffice
Replace what I refuse and fear to ask you for
Voiceless, I am begging you
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
This reality is just a dream
in which one can change and reshape
the way they percieve
anytime they should choose
I've come to realize this
The error of my ways
I cant say sorry anymore
I can only hope you wait
for me
while I work on this
You bring this out of me
the thoughts that could change
everything
unfortunately we share the growing
pains
My dream is to find happiness
first on my own
and then with you
I cant rely on you for this
I should've never looked to you
in the first place for self fufillment
a childish outlook and expectance
I will not ask for forgiveness
Just stick around
and we'll get through this
I regret pushing you away...
I mustn't make the same mistakes
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 10:06 PM UTC
to have a human stir, letting awake
flood in, putting unasked long blonde
tresses leavings on your shoulder,
resting head upon the empty crevice
where your shoulder and arm dip,
requiring
filling,
to have a child read you to sleep, a partnership, and awake hours later
his hand cusping your chin, and that
sensation makes an old man go
knee weak
even forty five years
later
despite that the woman left you, claiming
a lack of fufillment?
and that child now a forty five year old man,
has excised you from his life, and doesn’t plan or attending a future funeral,
it is still your best privilege
Sep 22, 2024
Sep 22, 2024 at 8:09 AM UTC
Sometimes lungs take air for granted
Same with skin, only sun
I suppose pain has turned me bitter
Still bleed though fighting is done.
Heal from the inside out
Help find myself buried deep in the ground
Life has lost significant meaning
My eyes not picking up beauty around.
Everyone waiting for me to return
To the former friend known before
What they don't realize is that girl
Does not live inside me anymore.
Back in summers of naive wonder
Woke up with a smile on my face
Not happy for more than an instant
That spark vanished, is tough to replace.
Taking day by day too hard
Wonder when things will change
Focused on gratitude every step of my journey
Yet happiness is always out of range.
Working myself to live a life
Impactful and without fear
Fufillment seems so far out of reach
With every "Thank you" becomes more near.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 2:49 AM UTC
11:06 AM Thu Feb 2
<>
early early morning
when the restless images of semi-sleep haunt, the hazy unknowns and wavy specters ****** you with wild abandon dancing verbs,
all eager to mislead, happy to pronounce distorted truths, seemingly
delicious but confusing familiars seem real, but they are…not
late late evening
when the day’s hours hang heavy round the neck,
the outlook is now the past-look, inevitable raising
words that start with the letter D, none good or delighting,
and looking back, reviewing, is too oft confused with previewing…
dinner time
when family gathers, interruptions frequent, and the
specific gravitas of concentration sinks beneath soapy
dish water, or is burnt in oven, or distractedly spilled and the
words burnt too, anger arrives as a question…when is my time?
early evening
the receding hubbub has numbed the desire, even the need,
flows are stillborn, and for every word composed, ten rejected,
disarray and dissatisfaction, despair, strangle the creativity and the
seductive drugged non-thought of TV, dangerously addict-attracts…
when then?
always. as in everything. anytime. feast on the crashing all about,
source and savor life’s cacophony as purest inspiration gifted,
record, clasp and grasp the passing stanzas that flow from the tap,
quicken the mind, retain the veins of irony, whimsy & despair
for there is no time other than the time…
*when “it” already writ and needy only for the writing utensil, tablet,
blue-lined pad that presents, begging for fufillment, yours & its,
and you need only discharge the torrents of what went before,
the poem, and you, both fully formed and emptied and contained!*
Feb 4, 2023
Feb 4, 2023 at 12:09 PM UTC
Your stride stirs something in my soul
My eyes awed at the sight of your skin
Scent carries traces of battered trust
Tip-toeing hesitantly, settling in.
I took one look, was lovingly pulled
By the smooth mystery bursting in your touch
The careful aura surrounding your outline
Drew me into your spellbinding clutch.
Your many tattoos tell intricate stories
Flesh inked with past knowledge you keep
I find myself cravings answers to each one
The first time fufillment has reached deep.
The calm comfort of your simple smile
Warms my cold core, a sunny glow
Wild winds of distress slowly dissapate
Then reappear with a forceful flow.
Experiencing these things is not easy
All I had before were distant dreams
Never once had a drop of true love, now my heart
Is full of it, rupturing at the seams.
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 10:58 PM UTC
My thoughts do not speak
Nor do they have a voice of their own
The words are on my lips
but fall away like water beneath ships
Under a rug my emotions have been swept,
On many moonless nights i have wept
I succumb to shameful acts of self fufillment
Trapped In a dark world of unfulfilled expectations
Tell me ,What's the difference between morality and reality
Can one truly comprehend the teachings of society
Is it possible to abide laws and still be able to see
For in a faithless world, one longs to believe.
All my emotions are colliding as i write this..
my ideas have fallen through, my glass still half empty.
I look you in the eye ,believe me,I can hear you all sigh.
I know that you don't get me, i know that you don't see.
Maybe,I shouldn't speak,maybe you think I'm a freak.
There's so much I could voice, many things you should know
But each time the words begin to leave ,
My heart whisper's that I should go
There's so much I could share ,but is this really the place?
If only my thoughts could speak for itself..
They would echo across this hall
So lets just stop pretending, every moment is never ending...
my feelings are hidden, cast away from light,
without a voice to feed them , they recoil beyond my sight.
What happens under darkness shall come to light
Isnt it a little ironic,
Cause im standing here speaking about the unspoken..
Im leaving with my feelings unsaid..
As silence will echo my voiceless thoughts.
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 8:41 AM UTC