"infinities" poems
i starve myself for this moment
gifting you my delicate sensibility emptying my body for you
bearing my scars wide open
let you touch my vulnerabilities
you swim through my body back and forth
cut my skin layer, after layer, after layer
no corner is unknown to your touch
your firm hands exploring my every parts
you grab me, lift me, toss me
taste my honesty and fears
fill my body from the tip of my hair to my toes
break the wall in me as you penetrate my soul
pull the innocence from between my legs like silk
conjure beauty in me
make the bitterness in me disapear
you break me, brick, by brick, by brick, by brick
pull my hair, tilt my head
drain every muscle in me
we break walls that leads to others, that leads to trap doors, that leads to infinities
the past and the future merge into one to meet us in our present
we breathe as one, form a unity
one body, one soul, one purpose
we connect, interlock, intertwine
we levitate to an infinity of desire
reach the line between reality and transcendance
the moon and the sun both witnessing the beauty we're creating
we ****** and create an explosion of billions and trillions of blooming flowers
piece by piece, you build me back up
bit by bit, we emerge from the magic we made
from caterpillar to a butterfly
We are born again!
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
My frail glass bones shattered with the windows.
We walk on yellow striped tightropes and dance
with impossibility until his grasp becomes to tight.
I fell into a river of metal droplets wheels rolling as
Mr. Impossibility connected two infinities.
Glass fingers tapped on a glowing glass screen.
Metal clashed, my scream was lost with sirens into a
echo of blue and red lights.
There was a silence that pulled me into the casket that
sat open in the passenger seat.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 9:58 PM UTC
The sea was once our prehistoric home.
O how we adapted to its dark currents,
to its India-ink infinities,
chasing seaweed, driftwood and coral,
before belly-flopping onto dry ground.
Now, the sea threatens our ancestral home,
the sea that falls from the angry skies
with their charcoal-smudged infinities.
A swelling flood, chasing red alert,
destroying houses and lives; raining grief.
Once sea-bound creatures now drown at home,
ill-adapted to meet the flood's malevolent intent:
to purge the Earth of all who cannot resist
the rushing, rising mountains of waters,
before proclaiming its final conquest of India's ancient lands.
Now, only prayer will be our home, built on deepest despair.
Now, only God's omnipotent infinities
circle the mud-brown rapids of sludge
choking all who helplessly cross their path.
Only God can make Kerala and Tamil live again, as one, on dry, holy ground.
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 11:41 PM UTC
I awaken once more.
The loneliness of my mountain hovel a constant.
The walls embrace me in their warm silence.
The wind blows around me.
My container a bubble of stillness
Perched upon stone and earth.
With too many stories for one lifetime.
If you blink the bubble pops,
Shattering the illusion of safety and solitude.
In a second blink the perch is gone,
There is now an ocean.
Six blinks ago there was nothing.
For now i'm in between a blink and a dream,
Struggling to make sense of things
in a world where nobody closes their eyes.
Where creatures assign meaning to the meaningless.
I close my eyes.
The mind as real a world as any.
Where thoughts bring me warmth and
I listen...
Above the dull hum of electricity...
Above the whir of fans
Above the sounds of distant people whose purpose escapes me
Above the screaming of the cold wind...
Above the sirens of troubled folk...
Silence.
An inner silence.
I lie motionless
Observing.
I stare into infinity.
I open my eyes and stare into another.
My heart marks time to a third.
With this i'm reminded of my luck.
What a perspective I'm allowed!
From here alone I bare witness to three infinities.
Among these I die endlessly,
and am born again.
I smile at the thought of myself smiling,
Living lifetimes between breaths.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
poem in two parts (a plane and bird)
You are a sound in still silence; a point against negative space toward which my eye is drawn. The sun set, peeking beneath a blanket of storm clouds, painting the underside, as a plane, an infinitesimal photon, a plane flew as an impossible pinprick of optimistic light, moving slowly against the immense parallax backdrop of bright and hazy pink-orange glowing thunder clouds. You are the first breath I took. You are the product of all infinities, divided by itself, the sum of all integers. When the earth falls into the sun, long after humans left, long after you left, and any recognizable trace of you is swallowed, your memory will persist. You will have still lived; You will have been the last breath I took.
A fulcrum of loss and a wedge between two equally lost people, but between them, between them still a bird, flying farther than any eye can see, but should the lights of the lighthouses lose you against their foggy panes, or should the salty wind dash you against something equally heavy, call out, and cast your voice into the sky, upon the sea, and against the stars, and maybe its echoes will live a little longer than you.
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
I said I'll meet you by the water
Just follow the path down the shore.
Follow me across the world,
to a place that's left unexplored.
We'll carve our names into the tallest tree,
reaching up towards the heavens and skies.
We'll count the stars as we leave,
to the other side of the island.
Drag a stick through the sand,
drawing tiny infinities.
and then we will sleep in the trees,
it's safe, trust me.
Look at the skies and watch the clouds roll by,
they were all ours.
We traced constellations with our fingers,
and talked in the language of the stars,
so they smiled back at us and sang us songs to sleep.
There is an island named after us.
A legend of a pariah duo.
Oh, the stories this place will hold.
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 1:50 PM UTC
Infinities and unfathomables
Unseeables and unthinkables
They want the unachievable
But all I ask in this transcient state
Is a tiny forever
Just within the confines of possibility
Just outside the realm of reality
Right in the center of your soul.
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC
We are all
just lifetimes
searching for
infinities.
And the broken
parts or who
we were
should never
be excluded
from the beauty
of what we
are.
-Andrew Durst
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 8:36 AM UTC
She used to tell me
of math and poetry
by the length of her arm
and rhythm of her heart
conversing verse and fraction
with form following the function
of communist theories
and greek philosophies.
she beat out aesthetics
with a perfect symmetry.
because no one understands
the relationship between
seafoam and shoreline
the way she does
[swimming in saltwater sorrows]
reimagining time in an hourglass,
she shot up infinities with a glance
and left me moondrunk in the night.
she emits sparks throughout my system
breaking and entering--
my kingdom under siege.
her name was an amalgam of numbers
italic1.6180399. . . .italic
and I loved her by design.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 10:18 AM UTC
Near, near are my lucid dreams.
Sultry sleep, augmenting realty
Today, nothing will be as it seems.
Flashes of translucent, magnified beams,
Lighting lingers in treacherous tonality
Near, near are my lucid dreams.
The water flows in upside-down streams,
Rivers rage in confused commonalities
Today, nothing will be as it seems.
The mechanic roar of howling screams,
Shrapnel shrieking in utter infinities.
Near, near are my lucid dreams.
Pulleys construct convoluted schemes
While pollution parades in notorious normality
Today, nothing will be as it seems.
Awake. I go forth, my mind again seamed.
Awake. I go back, into a world of formality.
Near, near are my lucid dreams
Today, nothing will be as it seems.
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
You think that you are ugly.
But my darling,
how could you possibly know?
You can’t see what I see,
still,
how could these opinions possibly grow?
you knock the breath right out of me.
with the way the sunlight hits your eyes
And I think my heart just flutters inside.
The way you tilt your head as you laugh
and when i'm with you,
I can never tell if only seconds or infinities have past
The way your ears turn pink when embarrassed
The way you spin in that pretty pink dress
The way you hold me in your arms
And smile
As you call me your love.
And I
Can’t help
But melt
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 6:33 PM UTC
Clearly, darling, you do not understand why
I love you.
All of you.
Stare at these two cups of coffee or look into my eyes.
Shuffle your feet, tangle your fingertips in your hair.
I don't care,
just listen and
let my words
meld into that beautiful mind.
Okay?
For a person to be here, it took years.
The little wisps of hair that always gets into your eyes.
The laugh-line underneath your cheek.
It all took an immeasurable number of tick-tocks.
In those infinite string of days was hours.
In those hours, there were minutes.
And yes, in those minutes are seconds.
Now, don't roll your eyes just yet.
Dotting in between the mellow epochs are experiences, dreams, unspoken wishes behind closed eyelids, tears, laughter crinkling your lips.
The creasing of the edges of your heart.
The sound of your very breaths in a lonely room.
If you think in such numbing detail, eventually I found myself happily and hopelessly tangled in those strings of little infinities.
And then, I fell in love with you.
It's simple really.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 6:19 AM UTC
You're not a waste in time.
For, You've gone fare to get
Here in this moment in time,
Here is just lifetimes somewhere other
and infinities to someone else.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
─illustrations on the ceiling
i love the way
the sunlight ripples along his skin
with no complaints
"messiah" the shadow talks
"of course he is" i reply
and i resume to orchestrating my love
─little phobias
i wander aimlessly along his windows,
his eyes;
they are gates to afterlives unloved;
they are oceanic shrapnel
sky imprisoned infinities
a lapis point of view-
that i treasure
his heart is drenched
in my soul-
in a sweeter sickness-
in the liquid measure of my steps-
he mentions i'm contagious
i tell him he is my favorite way
to bleed
"september prodigy" the shadow babbles
"why?" i rasp
**"sun at long last
kisses away
all the ghosts
harvesting from
the heart of the moon"**
and i broke out into stars
─my serendipity
i love the raw
music of our conversations,
and how his voice
undresses me
and my monsters
so delicately
in fabrics of the dark
i love how his laugh
makes all the other planets
look dull;
how his smile
is the first step
to curing the blind
so the blind may know
what i know
"the symphony of seams"
i love how he is the shocking
philosophy
of turning suicide notes
into paper cranes
of picking fights with death
so i may remain
i love the phoenix tucked in his soul
how it defines-
the altitudes-
the limits-
our existence he describes to me
"reincarnation?" the shadow asks
"every morning he wonders" i answer
and the fever invests it's time in me
"what is he to you?" the shadow murmurs
"*besides broken flowers,
and ink blots shaped like rain
he is my favorite stairway to heaven.*"
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC
on the night train to Vienna I dreamt
as the soft tangerine light bled into the windows,
tumbling down infinities of Italian countryside
absorbing into my retinas in summer shades
of dusk-colored haze
entranced I was--
a nervous girl of sixteen years,
uncharted valleys sprawling ceaselessly
at the beds of my fingers,
love languages my tongue could not yet
stretch its fibers around
freedom forming its hunched silhouette
just outside of thin glass windows
cooled by the night’s apprehensive breeze
endless, it seemed
the rumbling blur of possibilities--
my hands sedated for the first time in years.
quietly existing in the jolt of a moving cab,
the subtle ricochet through the faint lamppost glow
of fragile Austrian dreams.
home-- four thousand and forever miles away
and yet here was fine, just fine
a girl with stringy hair and a steaming cup
of midnight European tea
as her mother sighed to herself in the
peak of her American afternoon,
wondering whether her baby had found sleep
in someone else’s morning.
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 9:22 PM UTC
My heart is tired,
It waits for you in dark corners where even the moonlight can no longer touch it.
It counts the days that way,
Missing you.
It asks me how many phases it must witness before you come back,
I don't know how to say you won’t.
My heart still remembers the first time I met you,
It still thinks I write poems about your laughter which became the only metaphor I wanted to write about.
It told me that your eyes were the safest place I ever found myself in,
And between those late-night drives and nights that turned into mornings,
I realized my heart was right.
My heart needs to learn how to let you go.
To take your goodbye, say thank you- and leave.
I need to make it understand that you are an eternity it was not meant to keep.
And the harder it tries to make you stay-
The bigger the cracks you will leave.
My heart is stubborn.
It has tried to keep oceans and galaxies-
Has tried to capture sunsets and sunrises,
But you are more than that-
Yet it still tried to keep you.
My heart needs to unlearn your name,
Because it has given you all my metaphors.
And when I write,
It’s you, it’s you, it’s you and
I miss you, I miss you.
Oh God I miss you.
Heart forgive me, he is not coming home.
Heart forgive me, I don't know how to tell you we are not what he wants anymore.
Heart forgive me, I was too late.
Heart forgive me, I wanted him to be it- too.
Heart forgive me, loving him was never wrong.
My heart is not sorry,
It will never apologize for being
Too open
Too fragile
Too soft
Too big
Too broken,
Because it has held so many wonderful infinities,
It has been home to so many memories.
How can it be sorry?
When it has lived countless of lives.
My heart does not regret you.
It needs to do a lot of things, but for now the only thing it seems to want to do
Is- love you.
Soon, it will hang your portrait in its gallery of almost-
Almost.
Up where the moon belongs-
Until it learns to stop looking for you-
For now, my heart- is yours.
Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 7:43 AM UTC
They walked under the stars, and constellations
And under galaxies, they danced
without a care
without restraint
As if they were the center of the universe
On the soil, they made memories
and the wind be their witness
of the feelings they shared
of the feelings they cherished
As each little finite moment occurs
each of their infinities come to light
despite the one second turned to minutes
then hours
relativity kept their time from moving
Their hearts come closer and closer
until the two entities become one
and at that very moment
they made the universe one
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 6:36 AM UTC
I.
This is just another bad poem
Just vomited-thoughts-left-on-paper poem
This is a collection of grammatical errors
This would surely make my English teacher cringe
But no worries, I didn’t write this for her
II.
This bad poem is for you
May my subject and verb disagreement
remind you of all those misunderstandings that lead to raised voices
and nights where I cried myself to sleep
Sentence construction was never my strength, it still isn’t, maybe that’s why you never truly understood me—
called me difficult and bipolar
You said that I was too much
Did it ever occur to you that you might just misread me, like homonyms,
same words but with different meanings
misread my jealousy with accusations,
my concern for excessive affection
You said that I loved you too much
but darling, did you even love me at all?
Did I put too much meaning on your words,
turned them into similes and metaphors?
Turned your literal statements into figures of speech
You told me that you liked me,
so I blissfully interpreted it as a hyperbolic expression— called it love when obviously it wasn’t
III.
I was never good at using punctuations
I put too much commas,
unnecessary, misused, I kept trying to hold on
Afraid of the inevitable end,
Switched to semi-colons in an attempt to make it a few words longer
Because despite all our grammatical errors
no matter how shameful our piece of literature was to the English language
It was beautiful to the untrained eye,
To those who read poetry as it is
To those who don’t dig deep in search of true meaning behind the metaphors
It was beautiful to me
But I eventually learned that infinitives and infinities are different,
in spite of sharing infinite as the root word
Like our love,
started with something so promising
but unlike most novels,
there’s no happy ending
So I accepted defeat,
accepted the inevitable and bitter end
No more committing the same mistakes over and over again,
the same words over and over again,
Accepted the fact that synonyms existed,
words with the same meaning but also entirely different
new and unfamiliar, foreign and peculiar
IV.
I accepted defeat
No more commas or semi-colons
We have reached the couplet of our free formed sonnet—
I was never good with endings, I don’t think I’ll ever be,
So darling I hand you the pen, set us both free.
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 7:31 AM UTC
*To you, love was about multitudes
To me, love was inordinate
“I love you” I would say
“How much” you would ask
-Lang Leav
You like specifics, you like to hear
How much I do, how much I can
But darling, my love is inordinate
I couldn’t quantify, it’s too lavish
Sometimes unconscionable
And multitudes is never enough
If you ever ask me again
I’ll ask you to count the star
On every galaxy
Until you loses track
I’ll ask you to count every grain of sand
On every ocean floor
Until you ran out of numbers
I’ll ask you to listen to my heartbeat
On every second of the day
Until the infinite of infinities ends
And if ever you asked me again
Of how much I love you
That’s my definition of “how much”*
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 12:40 PM UTC
Gazing into the bright dome of the sky
Through veils and drifting continents of cloud
Suspended lost dimensions travel by
I hear the universe dreaming aloud.
Infinity reflected in a lake
Deep mirror to the heavens far above,
Where reeling kestrels fly for flying's sake
Where breezes sigh like whispered words of love
Love lead me to infinities of blue
With endless depths of cloudscapes on all sides
To ride with kestrels; oversee the view
Which hitherto I'd seen with earthbound eyes.
For always with us, high above the crowds,
They glide; shape-shifting monuments of clouds.
Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:22 PM UTC
Twenty-six letters in the alphabet
Restrain me in creativity of expression
But I'll use all variations of them
To express every possible emotion
Because I am so free and so big
Made up of small infinities
I want to love with intensity
And hurt just the same
I'll burn every letter on paper
As it burns in my heart
For you all to see that I am the letters
And also everything in between
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 11:33 AM UTC
-
Even if the storm does cease, And in
your heart there lies in rapture, hope
that next time with strength increase, we
take torrential rains and winds disaster, live
to cast them off our hearts crusade, without
eyes wide open don't see the shore, the fear
in infinity infinities of unexplored ocean evade, of
who to trust I know no more. limitation.
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 8:12 PM UTC
i am grateful for the short time i had with you
and the way i was loved so incredibly
i lived for the little infinities we created
on the back roads and in your bedroom
where time mysteriously disappeared
and all we had was the way our hearts synchronized
i am grateful for the hours we spent
discovering who we were as one
instead of two troubled individuals who spent
too much time divulging in their own dusty skeletons they keep in totes underneath the bed
finding each other in the small corners of the world
like on top of a bluff
or in the middle of a river
where the only thing that mattered
was the way lips warm and the way bodies melt together
i am grateful for the heartbreak
for the tears that have been shed for you
because without you i would have never known
what it feels like to be broken by someone
who i love unconditionally
and what it feels like to live without the other half of me
somehow
between the sadness and the hopelessness i felt within me
i learned how to sew my body together
to make a whole being once again
even though the scars and the holes still remain
i'm someone again
i hope you are as well
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 1:10 AM UTC
well i'm not good at math, so i guess i'm not smart
and i don't care about you, so i don't have a heart
your perception is off, but what else would you expect
from a person who tries to simplify all that is complex
like race and gender, it's not like you think, it's not set in stone
and the stereotypes that you speak chill me to the bone
"not be racist but" is not a way to start a sentence
there's no "buts" in racism, could you show some repentance?
well, not to be racist, but white people are *****
and not to be sexist, but all men are ******
and i'm getting tired of all of your ignorance
how does it feel to be full of intolerance?
you see the world through one narrow view
has anyone told you that you haven't got a clue?
you can't put people in boxes, we are so much more
we're filled with infinities that simply won't fit in a drawer
each mind is a galaxy, well, i guess maybe not yours
and you're so afraid of what you don't know
so get out of this world, i think it's time you go
because no one likes racists, ********** or jerks
being a ******** won't get you any perks
it's about the heart, not about the face
we're all a part of one single human race.
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC