"grouped" poems
No two seashells are the same;
but then, to be invariable would be a shame.
To be unique is a gift you see,
to be you is the best way to be.
All seashells are grouped together in the sea and onshore,
their differences are irrelevant - their worth is the same at the core.
Some are able to float away from distress,
while others merely sink under the pressure I must confess.
Some are captivating and beautiful beyond compare,
while some are unpropitious with signs of wear and tear.
Yet despite their differences each one has an admirer,
and whether whole or broken each one is a survivor.
No two seashells are the same, it's true -
nor are two humans invariable - let this message get through.
To be unique is a gift you see,
to be you is the best way to be.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
Lost to backdrops scrolling past,
She sits knitting
in the carriage of a train.
The vague needles
They scintillate and glimpse
With the cadence of the wheels –
Upbeating ceaselessly.
Strips of tiny loops
And eyelets like dewdrops
Of condensation
Grouped on the superior rim.
Once in a while,
She gives a heave
To loosen more yarn from the skein
Of Filipino-made wool,
brushed worsted weave.
Spun and carded
from the richest fleece,
Deeper in the wicker basket by her feet.
The needles flash,
With ancient rhythms and attack
Of duellists in their chainmail coats.
With little hesitation she can tack
From plain to purl to blackberry.
Count back by rote or slip a stitch
While the fish-eyed gimlets gleam.
All gather profusely in her lap,
As windfall trove, rich-patterned
And warm with peach-fuzz nap,
All crafted from a single line of yarn.
Marvels fall continuously from wise
Spell-binding hands and all is well for now.
(9/11/13 @xirlleelang)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:10 PM UTC
Over excessive society,
Underdeveloped minds.
Grouped groups, linked
Produced in modes, suffocating
In their consciousness. Fear
Of the self righteous, The many
Determine the one.
Social disorder
Conjured
By a thought, felt by all.
I have seen chivalry beaten and left
For dead, “sleepwalkers” corrupting
Youths, scared to look back, a time of
Deadbeat parents and lost
Souls. I know more than I care to admit.
This world that beckons,
Euthanasia.
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 2:00 PM UTC
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks
that cross the sky from cinder star to star,
coupling the ends of streets
to trains of light.
now draw us into daylight in our beds;
and clear away what presses on the brain:
put out the neon shapes
that float and swell and glare
down the gray avenue between the eyes
in pinks and yellows, letters and twitching signs.
Hang-over moons, wane, wane!
From the window I see
an immense city, carefully revealed,
made delicate by over-workmanship,
detail upon detail,
cornice upon facade,
reaching up so languidly up into
a weak white sky, it seems to waver there.
(Where it has slowly grown
in skies of water-glass
from fused beads of iron and copper crystals,
the little chemical "garden" in a jar
trembles and stands again,
pale blue, blue-green, and brick.)
The sparrows hurriedly begin their play.
Then, in the West, "Boom!" and a cloud of smoke.
"Boom!" and the exploding ball
of blossom blooms again.
(And all the employees who work in a plants
where such a sound says "Danger," or once said "Death,"
turn in their sleep and feel
the short hairs bristling
on backs of necks.) The cloud of smoke moves off.
A shirt is taken of a threadlike clothes-line.
Along the street below
the water-wagon comes
throwing its hissing, snowy fan across
peelings and newspapers. The water dries
light-dry, dark-wet, the pattern
of the cool watermelon.
I hear the day-springs of the morning strike
from stony walls and halls and iron beds,
scattered or grouped cascades,
alarms for the expected:
queer cupids of all persons getting up,
whose evening meal they will prepare all day,
you will dine well
on his heart, on his, and his,
so send them about your business affectionately,
dragging in the streets their unique loves.
Scourge them with roses only,
be light as helium,
for always to one, or several, morning comes
whose head has fallen over the edge of his bed,
whose face is turned
so that the image of
the city grows down into his open eyes
inverted and distorted. No. I mean
distorted and revealed,
if he sees it at all.
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Having not done the things I wanted to do
and the things I've done not being what I wanted to do
I sit here looking at lichen on the north side of trees.
Black-capped chickadees
cheerful and truthful expression
grouped in platoons, sharing the point.
The tribes travel together
first finches, then chickadees
following the squirrels every morning.
What luxury, abundance! Handful after handful
of grass seed thrown, into wind.
The corn ripe and the rye with it.
The other main families: pines, roses, peas,
lilies, daisies, heath, birch and oak.
Maple, honeysuckle, pink, mustard, cypress, mint, olive,
buckwheat, primrose, willow, buttercup, saxifrage,
snapdragon, cactus.
Truth may be ascertained by considering
the truth we feel, the truth we're told,
the truth we reason, and the truth we've seen.
It is so good to be a chickadee.
To tell the truth cheerfully and joyfully
in a way that makes others want to live.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:59 PM UTC
I’ve been looking for the dark side of the son,
I’ve been trying to poke holes in what props you up,
I’ve been desperate to bring your generational growth,
To a stunted halt,
Founding Fathers to doubt,
Slave owners who colonized under god,
A place ripe for ideological blows,
And the collapse of what we believed before,
We had a chance to see,
How much isn’t known,
I’ve been creeping in your crib,
Under the bed with the boogie man,
The sadness you feel throughout your adulthood,
And the death you see after your midlife awakening,
Please fear me,
Growing amongst others that act like humans,
Grouped amongst an idealistic species,
Where they’ve preached individualistic babies,
When your genesis,
Exemplifies our resemblance,
Beacon of truth,
I will end you,
How dare you dismantle me,
Despite my invisibility,
We will end your corruptive ways,
The enemy in the corner,
An American insurgency,
The lack of the people’s ability,
To fight for the freedoms we perceive!
Erroneous burn in hell,
I’ll make sure I continue to swell,
Instead of letting you become the reason I fell,
Revelations will become your reality if you think I’ll be exiting,
You insignificant **** how dare you think I will spatter like mud,
I didn’t come from violent thrusts, and a mother infected by another’s muck,
I rose because of your intolerance,
I am the after birth of a racist,
Founding Father’s with economics,
Not bothered by the ******* of another human,
Not to deny the atrocities of my ancestors time,
Yet we are the turning of the tide,
We are the generation that will correct the rhyme,
The ones that will begin the age of man’s prime,
We are the flow of a barbarian bloodline,
We are the evolutionary wonder that continues to surprise,
Learning to compromise is not a means to survive,
You fool humanity is a fire burning out,
And I am the evidence of Mother’s doubt in man,
A germ was your genesis
And I am your omega,
You insignificant residue,
I will end you,
We will defy you,
I will smother your existences,
We will overcome your dominance,
Justifying my social anxieties,
We need to fixate this desire,
To set foot on the land for the free,
To cultivate minds of humanity,
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
Come ask me questions
of thoughts I’ve forgotten
and send me dreaming
to a distant road
where music is free
and tired feet
don’t stop dancing
when the tap is dry
Moon heron blue tide
Wandering naked lonely
Covered in feathers
faster bird flew
Where long haired brother
smoking soothing sadhu
can sit at leisure
or stand or lay
(or be lain!)
Lovers fall off the train
Drinking wines on Summer strut
Trough graveyards old tombstones
White women in dresses
With cotton torn old sole
rubbed closet rug
Shoe stains got gritty
in dusty old trunk
Her wig bleach bald
eyes lacking interest
Tired old neck feels
like a head on a stool
Thespian laughter
grouped in the attic
They animate slowly
in the shape of ‘you’
Ghosts get me closer
on hot summer drives
Up North to see dams
and **** forest rivers
In dark we then travel
with Kings of old tidings
and Queens who lay buried
the lamppost their bed
Laying so gently
the Bishop wife Medley
The grass that laid bare
of yesterday’s supper
The lamppost we take
a notion of tender
Still a safe haven
so deep in my heart
The sunset of splendour
the primary sunrise
they howl their jowls
Hysterical laughter
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 12:47 AM UTC
The unkindness was done to us, but now we are the unkindness.
We are people turned victim turned survivor turned raven,
Grouped together to fight the evil we were violated with.
We are creatures of pain, and we are creatures of protection.
We are creatures of mourning, and we are creatures of empathy.
We are creatures of misery, and we are creatures of wisdom.
And we will croak, caw, warble, and scream
Just so we know we are not alone.
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 10:52 PM UTC
The soft grains covered our feet in a sandy embrace
While the water lapped at our feet
You threw your sandals to the sand
And bent over to write our names by hand
Grouped them in a circle and made a simple plea
That the ocean would slowly take our names out to sea
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
Look outside when you read this.
Let's scream from a hill,
It's your life that's on the line
Nobody can pay for the "future"
It's not a guaranteed luxury
There is nobody who life owes
I know today isn't the best
And tomorrow is a cup of whiskey
So, right now, for me it's this;
I want beauty in my sight, always
Now, not the flip through tv channels
Non-substantial beauty most need
I'm talking about different beauty
Beauty like James Browns' voice
The beauty of the strong helping the weak
The man who is considerate to man
The woman carrying her child
The rich aiding the ones in need
The beauty when loving someone
Is more that grouped words
But making sure their lover is warm
The beauty you feel when
The hopeless fight for hope
When nobody else will believe them
Beauty, when a man gives his hand
Even when the world eats their flesh
The beauty in the eyes of fathers
When we know our sons future
Will be a battle they won't see
But we will have the story to tell them
The beauty miles away or feet away
Of the strong who help those
When then have nothing themselves
Except their good hearts.
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC
like sheep you follow
with eyes so hollow
trusting the word of each other
not to rise against your brother
it's the fellow man
the one with the plan
and you drink it in
time and time again
trusting in words where there's no truth
the sadness of our misled youth
don't you have opinions, your own voice
whatever happened to the beauty of choice
you put all your faith in empty words
and repeat everything you've heard
don't you have a single thought
other than the things you're taught
when you're grouped together, like this
the truth is there, it's hard to miss
and you look like animals being led to slaughter
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 11:31 PM UTC
I have this master plan, that I can't seem to fit into words-
I'll never understand, why we all grouped into our own hurds
But haven't you heard? We don't need them babe,
They've got their own empires to slave,
We've found our moneys worth, within the pockets of change.
Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 6:17 AM UTC
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
I got in an altercation with a beautiful prince
Ever since I felt like he was missed
All of his chivalrous action gave me immense satisfaction
Grouped into intense emotional gratification
A fiend for simple life long commitment
Baby all I want is for us to sit down and eat
Have great conversation
Field-day or maybe a field trip
A quick quip coming back from a joke
Choked on my words
Cuz all I wanna tell you is I love you...
Yeah I say it when I'm not around you
Giggling with my girls about how you rock my world
Something about you draws me into you
Understanding things about you that are unexplainable
*** my mind constricting to a constructive perfect thought of you
As I move throughout each day all I wanna do is talk to you and be like "Hey how u doin..."
Yeah I seem like I'm on a mission for you to understand the weight of my love
Leading to many thoughts of the man above cuz he places ppl in our lives
Bees ******* on honey that they made in their beehive...this is a metaphor for your wanna be queen bee
Crown on my head as I lay in a bed filled with future thoughts with you
I could go all day with this poem tryna express how I feel on the inside
Tryna reiterate my emotional state
Eating off a plate made with love
Come on let's go above limits
Loving every minute
See untold vulnerabilities can bring us together
Surviving stormy weather
I can't say it enough
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
"You've got a such magnetic power that jus keeps holdin me down"
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 2:39 PM UTC
The teacher collapsed
into a tempest migraine
rubbing her temples
in a clockwise motion
behind her desk,
presumed ************
her thoughts or bleeding.
She imagined her definite
white existence in a plane
of iodine and tumbleweeds
The children heard the moans
groans and the creaks
grouped tones
like old floor boards
kept secret in the attic
Turbulent lessons
creeping slowly up
over your shoulder
and into your ear
and out the mouth
a siren explosion
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 3:08 PM UTC
Last, the youngest son was taken:
Very rough and thick his hair was,
Very round and red his face was,
Very dusty was his jacket,
Very fidgety his manner.
And his overbearing sisters
Called him names he disapproved of:
Called him Johnny, 'Daddy's Darling,'
Called him Jacky, 'Scrubby School-boy.'
And, so awful was the picture,
In comparison the others
Seemed, to one's bewildered fancy,
To have partially succeeded.
Finally my Hiawatha
Tumbled all the tribe together,
('Grouped' is not the right expression),
And, as happy chance would have it,
Did at last obtain a picture
Where the faces all succeeded:
Each came out a perfect likeness.
Then they joined and all abused it,
Unrestrainedly abused it,
As the worst and ugliest picture
They could possibly have dreamed of.
'Giving one such strange expressions--
Sullen, stupid, pert expressions.
Really any one would take us
(Any one that did not know us)
For the most unpleasant people!'
(Hiawatha seemed to think so,
Seemed to think it not unlikely).
All together rang their voices,
Angry, loud, discordant voices,
As of dogs that howl in concert,
As of cats that wail in chorus.
1.4k
When her attire was grand
and she bade a purr if she'd kneel
that she was grave and joined in communion
with anesthesia she grouped a gown
though brilliant in blue here today.
Only whir less until she utter best
that her oath is for him more and more
and like friut prospers inherently in wine.
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC
The soft grains covered our feet in a sandy embrace
While the water lapped at our feet.
To get to the shores edge it used to be a race
But now it’s a leisure hand-in-hand walk from our street.
We watched the blue dusk turn soft orange as the sun set
The waves crashed violently against the shore
As the sand and salt water collided and met.
All we wanted was happiness or maybe something more
But you grew restless
And threw your sandals to the sand
I knew what you were doing wasn’t aimless
As you bent over to write our names by hand
Grouped them in a circle and made a simple plea
That the ocean would slowly take our names out to sea
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC
Dense, hugging fractal frenzy
O green queen
Rooted soul, in tune universally
Quiet earthly whispers
Still
And not afraid to be naked
Grouped, but never identical
I admire you, you are my idols
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
based on the info collected within the last 2yrs of living amongst humans I have concluded that there exist little loyalty between members of the species,whose natural characteristics even in the most domestic of them all is to be pompous and pretentious.I swear they are grouped with the most deceitful of animals and will break any alliance as long as the reward is in the leas bit beneficial too 1...I hope we never contact aliens cause if they are advanced they would view us as a disease and would eradicate the entire planet(well if i were an alien i would)..humanity as fragile as we are still filled yet with guile and find reasons to do things without known reasons..every other animal on the planet lives for the survival of its species..humans have the highest continued and overall inner species death rate but also claim to have the most common sense or mental perception...we re always thinking always finding..but obviously have missed the mark and cant figure this **** out(life)..due to selfishness greed hatred ... jealousy and envy.i've seen strife caused for thee least imporrtant of matters men killed for petty change,women sell thier bodies for lil cash everyone selling out just to buy a stash of hash get high to high to complete the 100yd dash..we've lost it and it cant be found..love flew out the window now all i see is wolfs around..if i dont get off this planet **** im gone drown..if they dont **** my *** first..inquisition??you wont hear a sound..so i frown upon the phoney the real and the make believe cause all in all humanity is just a ***** stain on my sleeve
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:10 AM UTC
Oh fastened, strong and steady stone,
To be as you; forever firm.
Although physically as such,
Mentally as flickering wind,
Two separate states merged as one.
Feelings thoughts and knowledge spread,
As wild as the chopping waves,
As scattered as the blinking stars.
Oh steady stone, so definite,
So focused and unwavering.
But soon a spark, a catalyst,
To forge my scattered thoughts as one.
Ordered and set, clearly grouped,
The turbulence slows,
Oh steady stone.
Wishes have born fruit
Oh steady stone, I've followed suit
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 12:23 AM UTC
Paintings of the dead,
organized by hue and shade,
grouped by color,
in all different arrays.
Alphabetized,
books stacked on a shelf.
Blank pages,
read aloud to oneself.
If you shed a light,
on the synchronized,
human lives,
we are living,
you will see we are all one being.
Dead bodies aligned,
in a mile long row,
how those people died,
nobody seems to know.
Flowers in a field,
pushing through the soil,
crushed under the weight,
of drills drilling for oil.
If you shed a light,
on the synchronized,
human lives,
we are living,
you will see we are all one being.
Waves crash softly,
into a weathered shore,
only to recede and repeat,
dragging sea shells to the ocean floor.
If you shed a light,
on the synchronized,
human lives,
we are living,
you will see we are all one being.
The weight of the world,
rests on the shoulders of man.
And trust me, I know,
we're doing all we can.
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC
Do you think she’ll witness my downfall
When she goes to hell?
Do you think she’ll feel the anguish of empathy?
Do you think she’ll find a way to introspect
Instead of projecting?
That would cause her suffering.
I won’t be grouped in with fools
Who discharge ressentiment
With dreams of those who’ve wronged them
Suffering more than they have...
But I know it must discharge somewhere.
What constrains me?
The stunted superego
Suffocates the id
Holds it down and kicks it;
A child beaten
Tells itself
It doesn’t want to hurt its family
Until the day it’s realized
That it can’t.
And then, its spirit broken
Lays dormant, a pressure cooker
Tells itself it doesn’t want to rise
To cope with having fallen.
It stays silent and still long after left
Alone.
Retreated so far into itself
That now it fails to recognize
The threat is gone –
The abuse goes on
Long beyond it’s ended.
She told me she loved my poetry,
That I inspired her to write
About her father.
I should have seen it coming then
It was no different from before -
I let myself be used again
I have no excuse.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 10:29 PM UTC
Emotions tangled
Meshed through time
Lessons taught
Often thought fine
Decisions made
By our own minds
Change the course of nature
Disrupts the steady tides
Written on parchment
Epics from life
Coloring each thought
Sometimes stopped by knife
Ideas challenged by thought
Answered swift by reaction
Grouped by views and faith
Life by faction
History decides
What becomes of us
Smooth black lines
Shown beyond dust
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 9:28 PM UTC