"intermixed" poems
O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse. Wilt thou not haply say,
“Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed,
Beauty no pencil, beauty’s truth to lay,
But best is best, if never intermixed”?
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
Excuse not silence so, for’t lies in thee
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb
And to be praised of ages yet to be.
Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
To make him seem, long hence, as he shows now.
3k
In your past, this past
they weren't valued
no one said they were members of the family
what walks on four legs and is furry and cute is only
to last as long as nature intended and then to be disposed of
Veal calves in crates, taken from mothers on the day of their birth
to make more milk for humans, horse slaughter for glue
and foi gras, ducks and geese locked in a vice grip of their cages
metal tubes rammed down their throats and force fed until a liver disease
develops, painful, but given no respite
and served as a delicacy and
fur coats from animals skinned alive right here in America
still when mink farms are outlawed in the Netherlands and
two million dogs and cats skinned in China every year not to mention
other horrors and no one cared or looked their way because they are
only animals, and voiceless and helpless and no one cared to give them
a voice or advocacy
"that's why they're there, for our use, people still say" who profit from an industry
of suffering
And today, there are people who try to give them a voice and there are veterinarians who will try to help you with your member of the family, as he suffers, in his old age
a bag of fluids hangs from my exercise bike, and intermixed with my medications
is the painkiller and anti-nausea pills for my dear old friend
whose pancreas is failing
and father, this is foreign to you
you pretend it is a crime
silence is the only thing connecting us now
I hope you enjoyed your last barrage of unkind words
I think you did. The saddest thing I've learned about people like you
is
you feel better after such an attack, to see me reeling, bleeding on the ground
and you feel better, calmer and purged.
A kind of misbegotten peace settles over you
an exploitive peace from another's tears and pain
And yes, father, there were no agencies to give a voice to children
when you were young
no CPS, to aid my nine year old ***** friend
as a code of silence enveloped her attacker
to protect him, the one who destroyed her
But today there is a small brigade of a modern kind of love
to give a voice, protection, soothing to the ones who can
only suffer at our hands and not protect themselves from
our wrath and exploitation
and it is a better world for that, father
for my furry pancreatic friend and for any other
nine year old **** victims here
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
Jealously rises like smoke.
Obvious hoax.
How could she?
But I know his loyalty.
She can't take what's mine.
He's beautifully divine.
But maybe she already has.
Looks like midnight talks like jazz.
No... He'll return.
Right before she burns.
To what he knows is true.
He was just confused.
Aha.
Wait for his common sense.
Get away from the evil *****
Her lips curling.
Potion mist swirling.
Rotten, stale or dead.
She's inside his head.
Her breath intermixed.
Almost with his kiss.
Dark hair.
Lingering glare.
I feel her hate.
But she'll take my bait.
Her smirk won't fool me.
He wants me solely.
One choice for him to make.
Love and happiness or wretched snake
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
With pen and pad in hand,
I’m finally ready to take a stand.
This is how I get my words out best,
it’s kind of like a written test.
It seems to be the only thing that works
when it comes to you, I get flustered by that smirk.
But something about written words is easier,
I bet you’re starting to wonder if it could get cheesier.
Maybe it’s because of your eyes,
and how they reflect the night skies.
Or how every inch of my body reminds me of you,
it’s like to me, this body is brand new.
My hands, they are now meant to hold yours
or how you’re the one my heart adores.
See my body is no longer my own,
my ownership fell apart with every moan.
Thoughts like this, admissions like this,
seem to get lost amidst each kiss.
That’s why pen and paper are best,
for my admission here can attest.
I get a bit lost when you’re close to me,
our bodies intermixed means you’re all I see.
With a pen in hand, my thoughts aren’t all over,
I don’t feel like so much of a rover.
This is where it’s thoughtless,
where I’m anything but cautious.
So, this is so you know that I love you,
and with pen and pad in hand, it's easy to construe.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 11:40 PM UTC
I write these songs I'll never sing
Walk like I'm the ******* queen
Don't give a **** 'bout anything
Boy you were so mean to me
But that's okay 'cause this ain't love
Never will be, never was
I'm sure you didn't mean to give me hope
But that's alright because I'm over it
I'm over you, over me,
Over whatever the **** we were supposed to be
And I'm left here alone with my thoughts again
Neither a prayer nor a friend
To talk this out and lay to rest
And this bed is so much colder now
Despite you never being in it
I just feel the potential, overwhelming
Took my body, not my heart
Not like I had one for you to take in the first place
I hate your face, but I love the way you used me
Called me over, ****** me up
Physically bruised me
Guess you couldn't really even lose me
I was never yours, just a lonely girl with hours to spend
In a practically stranger's bed
And now I'm left alone with my thoughts again
Nothing I say ever makes sense
And you sensed that in me
Detached from me
On a mad quest for not my mind, my body
Senses intermixed - boy you wish
But you were just a short term solution to a long term problem
My mind's got pollution, need a potion just to fix it
Drink away my sorrows - don't even got a fake
But the smile on my painted face is fake enough to convince poor ******* like you to
Get me a drink
Give me a dance
Send me a wink
For a night
Same time next week, I'll be on the floor in tears
My vision going weak
'Cause no matter how hard I act like it don't matter
I find myself getting madder and madder
Walking right under the ladders
'Cause my life couldn't get sadder
And I know someday I'll really be over you - you being the one night stands -
When I'm twenty-two and respected with love from a man not a boy
You couldn't break my heart if it never was beating
And the feeling in my mind is that my patience is depleting -
Like the battery on my cell I stare at for, well, ten hours a day
Just trying to find a way to say I never cared about you anyway
I would if I could
You were never any good
Got my number in your contacts
Won't ever text me back
So I'm jaded and alone
Because you won't pick up that phone
I know I will never love you, just thought the things you said were true
About sticking around
And not letting me down
Like all those other people I've had to kick to the ground
Oh well, I guess closure's overrated
And in the end I'll never make it
Just a girl with a pen and a ****** up head
Staring her shadow down through the night
In her cold and empty bed
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 12:39 AM UTC
When we decided on ice cream
I suggested caramel
sticky sweet
dripping down the sides
I wanted to lick it up and
feel the sucrose explode on my tastebuds
a minefield of pleasure.
When we decided on ice cream
you promised whipped topping
and hot fudge
rich luscious chocolate
oozing toward the edges
swirls of dark intensity
intermixed with bouts of airy lightness
a most delightful contradiction.
With all the imagery that’s found in words
and pictures bound to play out in my head
It’s fair to say this sundae tempted me at waking hours
(and maybe even crept into my dreams)
… it’s quite a shame that in the end you settled for vanilla.
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
One thousand lives lay before me.
Smooth edges jaggedly intermixed
each one has its place.
Some are the corners of a frame,
others fill the void.
The voices unsolved each screech-- annoyed.
When they find their place silence reigns.
Engaged in a kiss only seen on a silver screen.
Lips locked so perfectly, so ingeniously engineered
Their places found through trials and plight
as tired eyes glaze over the chaotic table.
How can this game depict life's fable?
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 11:33 PM UTC
the first days of spring are upon us
and the rebirth is apparent in things all around us
from the leaves slowly growing back
to the grass, in need of mowing from growing fast
squirrels nibbling on juniper berries
the scent in air, sappy tar carried
with pollen intermixed
your allergies amiss
though still fortunate for the spring
Mar 21, 2021
Mar 21, 2021 at 3:23 PM UTC
12/15/2017
Maybe a woman. Definitely not a lady.
Always fluid, everchanging
Transient, human, waxing and waning
Dust to dust, the earth is waiting
Skin deviously separating
Lips and eyes and breath recreating the truth
Impermanence, interrelationships between the two of you
Between the hundreds of thousands of beings surrounding and breathing with you
Being with you
Being me
Being this inexorable mix of light and twisted, my fight is rising, round 2 has been gifted
Moving, shifting, intermixed
Lifting my voice to try to fix the never-ending brokenness
The ******* hoes, the tokenness
My ecosystem intertwined
Roots supporting, climbing vines, climbing high
Rise and rise, the end is nigh, lest we fight this beast beside
These children fighting over limbs
Ripping flesh and slicing skin
Removing organs from the breathing earth within
Ive spoken this truth before
But from a shattered soul
I speak now from a podium
Breathing deep and whole
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 8:17 PM UTC
Naked you
Unclothed
Derobed
Disdressed
Addressed with my heart on
My sleeve
Who needs these
Rags anyway
In a way
Your vision is X-ray
You see what lies beneath
Regardless
Of white tees
You sensed
My heartbeats
Like artichokes
Underground
Knowing my heart’ll choke
If you’re not around
The seed
Grows
Into the giving tree
That relives
Incarnation
Like bouquet’s of carnations
That die
On dining room tables
Relived
Reloved
In living room sessions
Deflowered in front
Of fireplaces
The heat of the moments’
Enough to slow time
So the most
Can be made of
With nothing to be mad of
Because
Nothings on
Accept us
Our body
Of lies
Is useless when our bodies lie
Together
Love letters
Aren’t needed
Because we let us
Become
Intermixed
With our mixed feelings
Yet
Our intent
Is known
When together
We’ll let our
Differences go
And show
Nothing
But ourselves
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 7:39 AM UTC
Time
Has changed its course
Love’s no longer intermixed
The feelings
Are just not
As in
I bend
Blended
With a broken promise
One
With the lies
I told
Old news
Like my ways
You remain
Unentertained
Unhappily walking
In the rain
I used to
Run through your mind
Now I’m a rerun
A worn out cliché
This odd couple
Was actually odd
In it’s inaccurate
Portrayal
Of the oddities of love
We
Were a spark
With no fuel
Static
Statistically speaking
The odds of us
Even meeting
Is too rare
For me to bear
But the moment
Fate forgot
Was the moment
That we met
Now our
Trials and tribulations
Are a tribute
To our attributes
Our rude, brute force
That broke the rules
Of physics
The night
We made Love
Without the chemistry
To make it
Bottled up our emotions
As if we wished
To save it
Living
Lie after lie
Looking in
Each others eyes
We’ll appear
To have a passion
As long as our masks
Are tied
Cupid
Our crooked archer
Is to blame
For our misconnection
Our departure
Won’t be in vain
If we do it
For the love of love
And our disdain
For a false passion
Carried out
In it’s name
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 12:31 AM UTC
I love looking into your eyes only to see stars that light up
and glisten like an aurora over the northern hemisphere.
I see galaxies form at the palms of your hands that slowly cluster into a fist of love and anger,
red fumes intermixed with purple erode from your fingertips
and onto my orbit.
How beautiful it is to look into a constellation that is inches away from my face and to want to kiss it.
A universe at my sight and only
a touch away,
a look away,
a kiss away.
And I get so lost as I stare into her soul,
but she sits silently as words are carried in meteor showers.
Shooting stars light up in-between our bodies
and the tension is seen.
Fires burn inside our hearts and people gaze at us like we are cosmic,
and we might as well be.
They don’t know what it’s like to look into something beautiful and want to gaze at her for an eternity that we do not have.
And that’s the beauty about humanity,
being mortal.
Because I will never ever have someone come into my life and burn a spectacle of colours that I’ve never seen before.
This is a once and a lifetime thing.
And I’m so so happy.
Happy.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
If only you were some ill-conceived conceit:
unlikeable, unreal. cardboard cutout, replete
with evidence of failure, warning signs flashing by like
high-watt highway lights, and eyes so very unlike fullerite.
Your eyes were sharper than diamonds, and nowadays
they cut into me, but I can’t meet their gaze.
And you know what they say:
that everything looks perfect from far away,
and you look real perfect right now...
I smile at how stupid i sound.
This isn’t a love poem.
When i first met you, you were a whirlwind,
a new friend, an enigma, and every breath we drew
intermixed, condensed by winter’s tricks
till we were somewhat inseparable,
and every word we wrote hid
a smile, every step we took
towards each other bridged miles.
Well you’re less a whirlwind now,
and more an aftermath.
I want these words to reach you
and cut deep:
Love is a dance that takes two
and you broke my feet.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
1.
i'll write you
a love
letter in
the
margins
of all my
papers
so you
know i
love you
way more
than you ever
think about
me.
have i
ever held
you so tightly?
let's talk
about me
i'm important
too
i love the
feeling of
your legs
warped
around
mine
& the sight
of clothes
scattered
all over
my floor....
2.
tell me
you love
me.
because i
love you.
almost
as much
as a liar
loves a
saint&
a angel
loves a
demon.
let's be
intermixed
let's be
yin&yang;
let's
pretend
you let
me hold
your hand
for
five seconds
longer
than friends
but shorter
than lovers.
i like to
write love
notes in the
margins of
my heart
for you.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
Lest not we speak of roses,
or of their reddish hue.
Strike the common violets,
arbitrarily called blue.
Intermixed with a dreadful metaphor,
whose folly is to woo.
Let faith and life be the guide
of whether love be true.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC
I was never supposed to be this girl.
I was supposed to be Dark.
I was supposed to be to Depressed.
I was supposed to be Angry.
I was supposed to be Rebellious.
I was supposed to be Alone
I was supposed to be the type to cry myself to sleep.
I was supposed to be the type to cut myself at night.
I was supposed to be the type to be misunderstood.
I was supposed to be the type to be judged.
I was supposed to be the type to hate and be hated.
But
I am not exactly who I was supposed to be.
I am still Angry.
I am still rebellious.
I am still misunderstood.
But
I am not alone.
I am loved those around me.
I do not hate,
And I am not hated.
Because I worked to tear down the walls I built.
I am not who I was supposed to be,
And that's okay with me.
Because who I am turned out to be better.
I turned out to be more than I thought I could be.
I realized something.
I realized that parts of me that were "supposed to be"
never were.
I realized that parts of who I am were always "supposed to be.
I realized that parts of me will always be the same.
I will always want to rebel.
I will always feel a little dark
Or depressed.
I will always be angry at the unfairness of the world.
"Who I Am" and "Who I Was Supposed To Be"
Will always be intermixed.
But
It is in that mixture that the True Me has formed.
I will never be somethings,
And always be others.
But
It is in those things that I will find
Who I Am To Become
And I guess I'll figure that out as I go.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
_Ebony and ivory._
Intermixed clefs.
A landscape of sound.
Not paint, but vibration.
Stories woven in air.
_Imagination_ ignited.
Tales spun from silence.
Love, a melody repeated.
Swooning, a chord held long.
_Emotions_, a full spectrum.
Darkness, a low rumble.
Light, a high trill.
Hard, a percussive strike.
Soft, a gentle sustain.
_Symphonies_, vast and sprawling.
_Rhapsodies_, wild and free.
Logic, a precise sequence.
Mathematics, a hidden structure.
A language without words.
_Universal_, no translation needed.
Across every boundary.
No wall can hold it back.
Species, all ears attuned.
Culture, a shared experience.
A resonance that binds us.
A bridge built of notes.
___Eighty-eight___ keys.
___Eighty-eight___ possibilities.
Each a doorway.
Each a journey.
From the quietest _whisper_.
To the loudest roar.
A universe contained.
In the space between.
A _heartbeat_ in rhythm.
A breath in harmony.
The _soul_ expressed.
Pure, unadulterated.
No need for explanation.
No need for justification.
Just the sound.
And the feeling it evokes.
A timeless current.
Flowing through us all.
A language of the heart.
___Eighty-eight___ keys, infinite feeling.
Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 7:10 PM UTC
Does sand evolve
Into a millions pieces of
Bits of cosmos and our consciousness
Intermixed with dozens of generations
Of feet drowned into
A physical experience of this
Moment
Firmly planted in this
Coolness surrounded by the
Salty inhalations of
Something so alive it pains
One thing I wish for is
To
Feel
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
Oh you hallow feet walking here.
These thoughts, These words
But shadow images, the trees
Each branch, each scar, a history
A snapshot of the intermixed mystery
We pass through, a leaf trassioning
Like the ear of one shadow listening
To every other paper cover,
Like the blind man lover
With but handy impressions
Of these more than meets the eye transgressions
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
As weeks slip by
And moments fade from memory
When the final scent of another day
Is tossed away in the breeze
And nothing remembered remains in the conscious
But a shadow in the night sky
What is lost?
As the grains within the hourglass slink along
So many white, flakes of snow
The shade of a lifetime
Lasting for a season
And scattered within a blue, a black, a green grain
Intermixed.
Staining the bland with the pains and joys
A molding of a self, visualized amidst the banal stones,
That salt away the minutes and hours and years
Between the few worthy of mention.
And when the lost and wasted time drips away
Does the filler of life amount to anything more
Than a tree falling in a lonely forest?
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC
just short of six.
brick by brick.
transfixed and intermixed
with her
bag of tricks.
what she can’t forget
she cold sweats away.
she plays russian roulette with
old cassettes bringing back
memories for kicks.
shits and giggles.
licked away by
twenty-something years time,
and not a second too late.
or too soon.
and it clicks in her head that
sickness comes in many forms.
adorn by some,
and conflict of others.
sticks and stones,
but now she gets
the weakness shown.
it’s nothing a bottle of bourbon
and a pack of cigarettes
won’t fix.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
Green leafy sea and rocky layers of blue
Thunderstorm
Yellow sky floods the windshield
Atmospheric feels so deeply
Passionate
And unexpectedly
blessed by the full rainbow
in awe
The sky is colors and lights strangely
Intermixed into such glorious pattern
Of day and night and dawn
peering through and embracing each other
Gratitude is all I have
To breath another breath
To see this world alive
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
You and I canoe down neon waterfalls,
Smelling cinnamon and sinsemilla,
Through sockets cascading melted eyeballs,
Intermixed with honey and vanilla,
We push paddle towards combusting shores,
Cloaked in pellucid smoke and glimmer mist,
Black sky alive with buzzing glowbug spores,
We must inhale to know that we exist,
But what if the hazy vapor-stew's too thick,
Paddles stick: viscosity of time,
When the sporal secretions make us sick,
What will become of the horizon line,
Will it burn to charcoal reality
Or conjure us sublime finality?
Sep 14, 2020
Sep 14, 2020 at 9:41 AM UTC
eileen’s dream
was it you?
was it us?
was it you as me?
was it me as you?
shifting, changing
polarities, dualities
did eileen ever
have any dream?
or just this waking one
intermixed with her
sleeping ones?
or was it just a cigar
named for an eileen?
~esk June 2023
Jun 9, 2023
Jun 9, 2023 at 6:19 PM UTC