"individually" poems
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form . Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet . As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form . The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction . The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.
As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born. Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .
The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved . Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms .
Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility . Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus .
Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation. Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor.
In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:15 PM UTC
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
I love you,
The best is yet to come.
Don't scramble,
Let us plan our lives.
We have it in our hands,
Luck and destiny will bend before us.
Yes we toil for it,
Both of us will put efforts.
Don't be scared dear,
Just hold my hand firmly.
What we can't individually do,
Together we will manage it all.
The sun in our sky has risen,
It will reach higher up above.
Not burning it will emblazon,
Just shining away all darkness.
How differences of ours remain,
We won't let them become large.
And yes, today I tell you darling,
Two different individuals we are.
So many of differences will ripen,
But how we treat them is unto us.
We can't let them become so large,
The love we share is much bigger.
Just practice perseverance my love,
Stay strong & toil hard we both will.
Not breaking mountains we must be,
Still challenging stay all our methods.
Zest of ours must not fail in this spirit,
Zealous we voyage on in the sea of life.
We both have that passion in ourselves,
Helping people parry off all the dangers.
Never would we worry about our past,
For we both cherish the lessons learnt.
Odds will often rise between both of us,
We won't let them disunite us any day.
This love I feel is a bit experienced,
And my experience tells me a lot.
We must never fall out separate,
Because together we're happy.
Differences do not invite rifts,
Neither should we let them...
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 1:58 AM UTC
Sep 15
2 0 15
your poem read,
awoken by lightening flashes of
morning notifications arriving,
postmarked from
"I liked it"
but it does not
end there,
continues,
to a new ending
who and why,
who and why,
did this one find
their own
worthy in it
that was writ unknowingly
just for them
and
you look them up,
guessing
who and why,
rereading your hand's work,
which verse was it,
was it for a blessing or a
curse,
that touched them,
that made them
touch
you
each "like,"
a work in itself
re examined,
re searched,
re imagined
in the
light of
who they are
and
why they are
liking words I wrote
a single poem
bring hours of imagination,
each "like"
individually gift wrapped,
each human liking rapt,
each imagine a rapture,
each "like"
a new poem
about the who and why
each name a disguise to unravel,
each name a title
of a new different,
imagined poem,
who and why,
we
like
each other
~~~
6:53am
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 7:01 AM UTC
What truly is the definition of righteousness?
Is it determined by act or by mind?
They say a good man fights for justice, peace, and prosperity.
But then, can a man of such moral truly remain so
if he turns to violence as an answer?
Does his intent to create marvels render him of moral status
though his methods may empower death and promote war?
Oh, this man is peaceful himself,
taking letters instead of bullets to battle
but his lyrics dislodge society in a manner not all approve
and so begins combat.
Can this soul carry such holy title,
if the repercussions of his strung together words are strung up necks?
Or is the good man the one who turns away from the world's fight
to be his own embodiment of ethical beauty?
For the one who remains silent causes no direct pain;
he himself is passive and tranquil
and moves to inspire such conduct in others without commanding it.
But his silence encourages fierce vehemency and wildness.
Does this fact not taint his name?
The first man had pure intent,
but with his tongue he spit sparks
which others used to ignite a fire and burn the world.
The second did not fight himself
but his chosen hush could never end the blood rain,
and so his lack of sharp verbosity allowed knives to flash and blood to spill.
So I will ask again,
what determines morality?
Though this time with a grounding response;
morals define morality.
Each man's mind renders his own flawless ideal individually,
and so one's perfection will always be another's monstrosity.
In truth? There are no good men,
or at least not one to all.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
The parasympathetic nervous system
is responsible for regulations
unconsciously transpiring
within the organs and
the glands of
the body.
Such as:
urination, salivation, digestion, defecation, and
lacrimation
(noun. ‘the flow of tears’. Latin.
from lacrimare (‘weep’) and lacrima (‘tear’).
It’s why I cry
even when I don’t want to.
You are the parasympathetic nervous system.
The (ortho-)sympathetic nervous system
is responsible for the mobilization
of the fight-or-flight response
and constantly maintaining
homeostasis within
the body.
It acts
rapidly, enacting an attempt at stability and
the necessary and critical ability
to suddenly escape
on pulsing legs or
cling to survival through
brandishing adrenaline-doused knuckles
and dilated pupils.
It’s why you live
even when you don’t want to.
I am the sympathetic nervous system.
The parasympathetic and sympathetic nervous systems
are two of three essential nervous systems which
compose the autonomic nervous system
(a part of the peripheral
nervous system)
that manages
involuntary
functions of the body. Such as:
swallowing, perspiration, arousal, breathing, and
heart rate
(noun. ‘the speed of the heartbeat’.
usually expressed in beats per minute. mine speeds up when I see you).
Individually these two systems oppose
but compliment
each other like our hands do—
pressed together and omitting equal force;
veins meeting
at the fingertips and throbbing at the wrists
but running amuck on our respective digits otherwise.
You are the invariable and unspoken reminder to
breath,
love,
sweat,
and live.
I am the sudden snap of reality always aiming to save you
but grudgingly willing to fight you and
ready
to
leave.
From the deepest lower half of my brainstem
and from every nerve
in my cycling body,
I’m sorry.
From all of my chromaffin cells
and from the truest parts of submandibular ganglian,
I am sorry.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
maybe there's a reason we don't see our own beauty. it's a strive towards selflessness. it'd be the cause of interference with our capability to see the rest of the world as beautiful as it is. with so many places to go & things to see we forget to notice the eternity within our own soul. we underestimate the scale of life itself. because without your individually unique ways we wouldn't go on to live in this incredulously magnificent world. an outcome of intelligence & stupidity.
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
We
collectively
have so much potential
yet we
individually
waste nearly all of it
it would seem
on ourselves
individually.
Pity.
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 7:39 PM UTC
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form . Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet . As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form . The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction . The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience .
As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born. Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .
The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved . Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms .
Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility . Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus .
Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation . Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor .
In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
Have you ever made a pit stop on the road to success,
to just sit and marvel at the gifts of the ghetto?
Like the individually wrapped Treats that are left about.
have you seen the gum plastered across pavements,
the tagged up scenes...
all of these things.
The **** that people tend to turn their nose up to
is the most beautiful to me.
it reminds me of where I am and fuels me to reach for where I want to be.
Broken sidewalks, broken homes
babies out hustlin' to make their own.
For as long as I can remember,
this is all I've known
this is the land that I call home.
city buses and ratchet fights
****** scenes in broad daylight
beautiful ugliness at my eyesight
but it all pushes me to get it right.
Land of promises
Land of fame
home to Hollywood
and making a name
it is also home to heartache
and home of pain.
but if I must refrain..
If you make a pit stop on the road to success
and marvel at the ghetto
you'd realize you are blessed.
-ari b
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 2:16 PM UTC
The sunset is beautiful
I only wish you were here
to complete the evening
If you were
what would we do?
Where would we go?
Perhaps we'd just stay here
sitting on the steps
standing over the water
leaning on the buildings by the docks
simply talking
about how life has been
individually, several miles apart
Familiar our exchanges might be,
no small thanks to
our fancy flatscreen devices,
I'd still want to hear each word
while we do whatever we desire
because you'd be here
and we'd be together
at last in person again
laughing, smiling, jesting
holding and stroking each other
poking and patting in this place and that
all while looking out at the sunset
although I wouldn't want
to look away even if I could
from those deep brown eyes
flowing with the tone of your soft skin
and the groomed lines of your elegant hair;
perfect as a pristine painting
whether afar or in the details.
I only wish
that you were here
beside me.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
my tea has gone sour overnight
the stars must have mixed with milk
dreams dancing into my two white pillows
why does night slip away so suddenly
tones of sadness find me early morning
I try to unsap my fatigue and fall
stumbling into the room where we keep our food
which keeps us alive
sip my new fresh tea from my country
red and warm and hugging
I miss the accents of my land
craving something familiar (like you) but not
maybe we are all so incurably alone
spinning around this globe individually
unstoppable in solidarity
maybe this was how it was meant to be.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
some people have given up,they see Nigeria as hopeless,They feel it can not get better.they come with history records,recent happenings and even present situations.People are frustrated and tired so out of the frustration comes so much cursing and bitter words.
Believe me when I say I know the feeling of disappointment,the hurt that one feels when hopes are raised only to be dashed.But when I withdraw from the so much noise and look a little deeper.I see good...so much good in Nigeria.I am being really honest now.I know someone can see this good but if you can not, I wish I could borrow you my eyes, just so you see what I see and of course return my precious eyes back.
Right from the time of Adam and to this very day,We humans tend to feel comfortable pushing blames.We refuse owning up to our wrongs or inefficiency.
While complaining of a cut in your leg there is someone with no legs,he would gladly take your legs with the cut , Be thankful and treat the cut.When the complain is not healing the cut,why don't you use the time to find some first aid.
Why curse when you can bless
why speak death when you Can speak Life
why worry when you can pray
We can change our thinking
We can look inwards at what we can do
We can individually make a positive difference
I'm not saying become voiceless,I'm saying let your voice carry positive value and be backed up with positive actions.
Can anything good come from Nigeria?
Yes!I'm a good example
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 3:41 AM UTC
2 weeks it's been
Immersed in this world of open love
Such a short time to spend
But my heart feels so liberated
No longer trapped by the confines of one
A sole opportunity to share, give and express my love
Now I can let my feelings come undone
Within the safety and boundaries of mutual respect
My lovers, almost three
Each offer a unique chance
To share this love and feel free
This love is a beautiful thing
I did not anticipate this formation
I did not set out a number of partners to seek
I entered this with no expectations
And it happened to grow this way on its own
I love each person uniquely
No mutual exclusion, no impact
Each love forms and runs deeply
Individually, yet always connected through love
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 10:19 PM UTC
~
*solstice = sun stopped; in the case of winter solstice,
the moment when the sun ceases its journey northward
from the earth’s equator and turns southward toward
longer days; much like the journey our sun takes,
love solstice then is that moment of
arrest and redirect for one’s direction of travel
in life... and in this, the moment
a Sagittarian and Capricornian
separated on two sides of the solstice,
turn, collide and coalesce.*
~
hers,
the waning side,
winter's reprise,
calls to the night,
at height of eventide.
his,
on ebbing turn,
the sun's reverse,
together rise to step
as one at winter's ball.
their dance across the sky
'neath moonlit nights.
two in love,
in lockstep of
the stars above,
collide and coalesce,
their waltz amidst
the delicate pearls of
a Milky Way stage!
no more his lonely
path among the stars;
his heart she's swept,
to never dance alone;
her arrow sent with bow,
piercing to the marrow,
holds his life,
his very soul.
bold and daring,
her voice of caring,
soothes his troubled heart.
he, her promise, calls
to her adven’trous heart,
two stepping toward
a rising warming sun,
in birth that spans
the space and time between,
forever now as one;
this their solstice of love!
~
post script.
*she (late Sagittarian) is the setting-sun-kissed, rain-misted huntress,
he (early Capricornian) is the rising sun's icicled traveler.
mere days separating their arrival, though theirs could not be
more varied. their births under different signs; his in the wintry
heartland, hers in the sun-kissed southwest; individually they are fire
and ice, huntress and wanderer who together have captured,
captivated each the other’s heart. you’re not likely to see them
separately, but when you do, it’s only briefly when resupplying
their home, their hearth, their hearts. two making a most unlikely one,
but oh so surprisingly, so beautifully passionate!*
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 2:19 AM UTC
They search my tongue,
individually, old and young.
See my mouth, one by one.
But sadly they find none.
Declare me dumb in turn.
And when all of them return.
I Pull my hand from pocket.
Slowly like bomb or rocket.
I look at right one and smile.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 11:54 AM UTC
(For context, I went to...)
British Kindergarten in England,
French Elementary in Switzerland,
International MS in England,
French HS, then Int'l HS in Korea,
(And then completed...)
Undergraduate studies in NJ, USA,
9-month gap year in Hong Kong,
Graduate studies in QC, Canada.
------------------------------------------------------------
I have shattered my identity.
Frequently. Involuntarily.
I have undergone assimilation.
Socially. Psychologically.
I have encountered discrimination.
Directly. Racially.
I have endured isolation.
Grievingly. Impotently.
I have ill-wished on others.
Subconsciously. Unintentionally.
HOWEVER –
I have learned to be human.
Individually. Collectively.
I have discovered empathy.
Emotionally. Compassionately.
I have gained knowledge.
Culturally. Geographically.
I have acquired expertise.
Intellectually. Linguistically.
I have become a citizen.
Locally. Globally.
Perhaps we who are born and meant to move,
Are intended to, and exist to locomote forever,
Walking lands, sailing oceans, mastering the world.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 8:00 AM UTC
You keep me on track.
You're my better half.
You keep me up lifted.
You're my better half.
Strange as it seems.
We individually knows in a relationship.
What makes us better?
We can deny it.
We can hide from it.
But somewhere in your heart.
Soon you have to admit it.
Even I.
That you're my better half.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 10:11 PM UTC
why do we trap ourselves with walls of thought
that exist only in our heads, walls that restrict
what we can see and understand through our journeys
in life and love, good and evil, wonder and cynicism
What are we so afraid of in our existence that
barriers are created so strong built through belief
and ignorance, invented to keep so much from affecting
the way we think and act, as if the minute amount
we know is enough to live by without being
curious about this amazing universe we find ourselves
inhabiting, filling the area around us with out thoughts
How can we not be filled with an unquenchable thirst
to discover and understand all that is around us
surrounded in physical splendor and ethereal mystery
All things are there for our mind to intertwine with
to understand without deconstruction, to comprehend
without destruction to be a part of and with all
of life while being individually thinking, metaphysical exploration.
When will we allow our minds to expand beyond our
walls of mistrust and comfort to show our thoughts and
joys of living emotion to each other to let
the very essence of who we are to press against
each other in vulnerability and trust, to share without
expectation of return. Without empathy and understanding
our thoughts will remain only our own, locked
away and formless, unable to show the universe
the beauty of what we truly are.
Where will we be once we can share
with each other our thoughts mingling to be
able and ready to explore this fantastic existence
we will be human, at long last true to ourselves
and everyone else to realize the universe is a
thought in the mind of a child
and so are we.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:18 AM UTC
An Apathy for Effort
What happened to the world?
What happened to all of the happy people?
Drugs, money, *****
None of the above.
I'll tell you what happened.
People happened to people.
Although, not others and to each other.
People happened to themselves.
Satisfaction became fiction
Men and women lost the grip on their vision.
Not eyesight, but people forgot the initial mission.
The concept of being happy
with what you have got
And worrying less about what you want.
If everyone would just shut up
And see how truly blessed they are,
Perhaps they would see
How truly blissful life can be.
Because what is bliss, but simply
A continuity with the whole.
And not a hole in the wall,
but the make of two halves.
If half the world gave half a hoot
We might experience bliss.
But we all individually feel deserving of more
As if we should get more than what we work for.
Yet NOBODY, is willing to give more
than a lift of a finger to attain.
It's too much of a chore.
We all expect the doors of life
To open to us, like a Walmart Super-center.
Where's the effort?
Where's that fighting spirit?
It's taking a nap with all of the hypocrites.
Those who spend their days feeling
sorry for themselves.
Those who left their aspirations
in a a Mason's jar
High upon the shelves, then claiming ignorance
as to what happened to their dreams, like lost car keys.
They know where they left them.
Hanging on the seams of their memories,
Abandoned when it became too hard
To work to achieve.
It's a sad state of affairs
When a man settles for his second choice of lifestyle.
Simply because his first choice was having an affair
With difficulty. Making it fairly difficult.
What is that man scared of?
Failing? You only TRULY fail if you don't try.
so instead he settles for second best,
While his heart sits idle and cries.
His heart cries:
"WHY?! Why won't you try?"
He is scared to lose,
That's why.
The sad thing is.
It's not as hard as that man thinks.
He simply needs to go out and do it,
and he will know happiness for the rest of his life.
But of course he's now too busy,
******* it all away.
Sipping on his bottle of sorrow drowning firewater,
somewhere when it's 5 o'clock.
As the whiskey burns and numbs his senses,
he attempt to consent himself with his settlement.
Living out his days with his mind and his heart
In constant battle.
Wondering what could have been.
What SHOULD have been...
So I beg of you,
don't choose to be another misfit or mishap.
Be you and always be true.
True to your heart and ideals.
Don't ever be frightened by adversity,
Be EQUALLY adverse.
Do not ever lose your grip on what makes you, YOU.
-Nathan W. Smith
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC
*I only have a few friends,
but those few, who are you,
are very precious to me,
I admire your loving hearts,
and your beautiful souls,
that are kind
and filled with purity.
I love you all because...
each of you can hear
the things
that I do not say,
Because,
you each know
how to love me
in your very own unique
and special way.
Because,
all of you reach-out
to my heart and soul,
Because,
you all come together
to grab my hand
and pull me out,
before I sink
into the recurring
black hole.
Because,
I never have to worry
that any of you
will ever give up on me -
you all, patiently,
tolerate my relentless Anxiety.
Because,
you all really understand
who I truly am,
deep,
deep
down
to the very core
of me--Rosalie!
Because,
any amount of absence
doesn't disintegrate or deteriorate
our friendship,
despite the precious time
that my Anxiety,
slowly, eats away,
Because,
I can feel each of you
thinking about me,
even though you're all busy,
every blessed new day.
Because,
individually,
each of you are the sunshine
that removes the dark clouds
that hover over my head
like a curse,
Because,
together,
you all stand to make up
my entire universe!
Because,
I know
that we were meant to be
a special part
of each other's life journey,
Because,
I feel your genuineness
and honest sincerity,
Because,
we are kindred spirits -
we are soulmates -
we are rare, beautiful souls in tune,
Because,
I am grateful
and most thankful
that we met,
and not a minute too soon!
Because,
without these few,
most valuable, friendships
that I truly do cherish,
Life, on this beautiful, but messy,
chaotic, dog-eat-dog, blessed existence,
would be more than hellish!
I love and appreciate
each and every one of you,
YOU!...who I call "A friend!"
I promise to love you all
unconditionally
until my very last breath,
until the very end!
And, from the hereafter,
infinite love to you all,
I will continue to send!
By Lady R.F. (C)2017*
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 7:37 AM UTC
Spanish Guitars
A few years ago, in 2011, I went to a concert of young classical guitarists. Just before or after, I don't recall, I saw an exhibition of Picasso's guitars at the Museum of Modern Art in NYC (http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/1101).
This poem ensued. This is one of the lost poems I mentioned, recently rediscovered on an archaeological dig.
Spanish Guitars
two weeks pass.
I have seen
two guitars
one of wood,
one of sheet metal.
both were alive,
both were inanimate
both birthed for display,
useful for granting pleasure and
heating up le jus d'creation
products of a tradesman's craft,
animated to pierce my brain and
pleasure me with the realization
that when you see
what I see
When you,
you hear,
What I see
we all perforce speak but one language,
an alphabet of music, art and love
A young,
oh so most beautiful
Croat guitarist girl,
Ana, coaxes an urgency
from her love, the blonde wood,
she takes Piazzola's notes,
as if they were Picasso's thoughts
and set them within so
days later, the resonance plucks
at my temples
Picasso, like a little boy,
collects collaged bits and pieces of
life's stuff most ordinary,
postage stamps, playing cards,
wallpaper, pieces of cardboard,
cutouts from Le Journal,
and with fingers delicate
sticks and glues discrete notes,
individually nothing
but pieces of this and that,
bits and bobs
superimposed on faux woodwork,
presenting an instrument tooled to
conjures up a milonga^,
the sounds of angels dying,
a fandango of trembling tones
a sonnet of sounds,
celebrating human touch
upon animal, strings taut,
feasts both, a banquet,
a triomphe of sounds
that tutors my senses
to hear sheet metal guitars
imprisoned in museum glass
gush sounds of parallel lines
and delicate contrasts,
A duet of animate, inanimate
Virtuosity
All is clarified.
One language.
Many dialects.
Both, Spanish guitars.
^ a milonga has many meanings, but here, refers to a Argentine tango dance party
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Untethered. Somehow,
once I become untethered
to the prison of this life,
I can see to focus more intently
on what is most important
if I pay attention to this inside,
what I am, instead of focusing on
the tether or what it’s tied to.
What would happen if
every single last one of us,
all the billions of souls,
human ones, alive,
all untethered
at the same time?
And what if we let our
untethered hearts
lead us to the destiny
we didn’t see
from all the chaffing from
the too tight tethering?
The vision I see is
something like a healthy,
humming, honey-bee hive
on our larger human scale.
Isn’t every working part
so individually, blissfully alive?
I suppose, if the goo is honey,
it's so much better than if it’s ****
or congealing blood.
That is, if we have to have goo, which
here on earth, yeah, I’m certain
it’s a universal law,
we really do need goo.
I questioned the Devi
and she only giggled.
I had to admit, she’s right.
Then, I accepted a goblet of
her sweet honey wine;
and it didn’t hurt all that much at all
growing the rest of my little wings.
Buzz, buzz, buzzing about
our wonderful beehive,
blissfully drunk on Mother’s
Divine Honey Wine.
Feb 4, 2022
Feb 4, 2022 at 8:24 PM UTC
We are all apart of one system
yet there are many components to this system
innumerable actually
all following the same laws
as if contractually
bound by one set of rules
but
with infinite variation
like nations of expression separated by vibration
only contained by the systems within
that perceive and react
to the system
they sustain
one giant metaphor
a sufficient example
is the human body
a complex interaction
of
individual organisms
all communicating, interacting and participating
in sustaining the body
an organism
of organisms
Even our organs have organs,
working together to sustain
a system larger than itself
cells
communicating, producing
regulating, exchanging
are themselves composed of
organisms, performing
all these functions
we must not
forget
the system
which we sustain
the order
we provide
for the larger body and mind
together
we compose the cells of this planet
interacting and communicating
with each other and all other life
a subtle dance
that carries impressive consequences
except
the way in which we act
as organisms
is likened to cancer
in which
a once productive cell
behaves individually
not in accordance with the system it sustains
replicating uncontrollably
wasting unnecessarily
not taking the whole into consideration
although
if the planetary cancer of humanity
replicates
itself to extinction
all will still be well
as it always has been
and
always will be
yet
the system
in which we exist
would lose
the chance to witness and experience
the transformation from cancer
to great negative immunity
through the powers
of the newly recognized
human organism
a system sustained
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 12:42 AM UTC