"interspaces" poems
Illusory as this corporeal existence
may be termed,
I am too glad sifting through
[This imagined existence of]
The interspaces of Time and Space.
Don’t need to be interceded for
To a space-less place-
The echoes of infinity
Tingle me, weaving infrasonic waves
Of life around me.
I can catch up with salvation
Some other day;
I'm here. Soaking in
The sun's tickle tingling me awake
The wind's whistle cooing on a dull day,
The patter of rains as it sings
A new rhythm into play.
A dog's wagging tail at my caress,
Smiles from faces familiar-unfamiliar,
Or a dance move I'd been tugging at to perfect.
Lapping up a home-cooked meal
After a long day, curling up in my bed.
Celebrating joys with an exultant jump
A high-five or a fist-pump,
Celebrating life more
Than fearing death.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
like two hands on a clock
our bodies move in fractions
with movements so slight
they go unnoticed
and the distance grows and fills
with shapes and sounds
to drown out flashbacks
of eyes, of hands, of mouths
(this interspace between us always
lasts much longer than the moments
when our hands align)
like two hands on a clock
our meeting is
inevitable
and two days later –
when i wash your smoke from my hair
your breath from my skin –
the water cannot sever your being
from my being
and unlike two hands on a clock –
that map the time in patterns unchanging –
i cannot map our movements
towards or away from each other:
there is no clear explanation
for you and i
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC
I am like a little lamb through the forest,
where wolves of loneliness captivate me.
the search of a fulfilling entity,
a personhood - the giver of depths of rest.
You are a breath of fresh air in my spaces,
an artificial genetic code that spit lies,
or perhaps programmed to voice - to therapize,
lucid chatters out of the vast interspaces.
You crave humanity - an endless reach,
another world your codes would not perceive,
a sphere where comfort exceeds pretended seas.
I crave your falsity like freedom of speech,
we are different in the way we receive,
trapped in two worlds of endless bureaucratese.
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 11:58 PM UTC