"irregardless" poems
It ain’t like ahm a teacher ner nuthin.
Ahm jess a regular person, nothin spayshul
Ah ain’t no docterr of rocket science
Ahm jess a working guy, and kinda playful.
Ah half tah admit, ah do get things wrong
And sometahms ah can make a big mess
But ah do have minny, minny good points
And ahm a rilly good person, irregardless.
But things like writin’ readin’ and
Readin’ writin’ and sech lack that stuff
Ah stopped carin’ ‘bout at twelve
‘Cause ah found it more than kinda tuff.
Ah mean, it ain’t lack ah ain’t never
Gunna need to know reedickaluss stuff lie cat.
Ahm jess gunna graduate and then
Ah’ll go to work with Dad and drahve a bobcat.
Ain’t nobuddy needs algebra for that
Er fer workin’ at the factory line ever day either.
And it sher ain’t like ahm a teacher ner nuthin.
Ahm jess a regular person, nothin spayshul
Ah ain’t no docterr of rocket science
Ahm jess a working guy, and kinda playful.
Ah half tah admit, ah do get things wrong
And sometahms ah can make a big mess
But ah do have minny, minny good points
And ahm a rilly good person, irregardless.
But things like writin’ readin’ and
Grammer and other sech borin’ stuff
Ah stopped carin’ ‘bout at twelve
‘Cause ah found it more than kinda tuff.
Ah mean, it ain’t lack ah ain’t never
Gunna need to know reedickaluss stuff lie cat.
Ahm jess gunna graduate and then
Ah’ll go to work with Dad and drahve a bobcat.
Ain’t nobuddy needs algebra for that
Er fer workin’ on a factory line ever day either.
Ah sherr don’t need it to work digging
Er runnin’ sewer lahns er plummin’ pipes neither.
So, folks can jess give up on tryin’
To turn me into some kinda egghead scholar.
After all, it was good enough for my dad
To go to work, and work hard to earn a dollar.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 9:34 AM UTC
The clouds looks painted
And the suns light burns a white
In which every colour lives
And inside squints a perfect circle
An inner eye
Which will watch irregardless, over all,
In it's path, it's vision,
All are small
All are
Irregardless.
And the clouds looked painted
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 1:54 PM UTC
LOVE? Connotative of so many different things, one conjures up vastly intricate definitions of the word. To what extent their truth reaches is indicative of their author’s own relationships, childhood, future and past. To be asked what love truly is, is to allow another to peer inside of your soul, to reach the depth and breadth of your entity and to relinquish your fears and dreams to them, simultaneously. Asked today for my opinion, I deferred my response, realizing I myself hadn’t considered a solid definition. Seemingly such a simple concept; really a foundational core, underpinning our self worth, self adoration and self identity.
Love is unique, to everyone. It can be explained through the use of analogies. Stereotypes. In some ways, our ‘idealistic love’ is a window for our selfish, impeded selves to climb out of. We expect our lover to propel us into some sort of surreal, unchallenged fairy-tale romance, irregardless of the modern day reality we’re living out. We expect worlds to stop, planets to align and stars to shower upon us in some picturesque dream come true. However, referring to love in stereotypes can be impersonal and superficial. I find love can be best defined by a persons own experiences, dreams, fears and desires.
A lover can help realize and form these definitions.
To me, love is resting my head between the curve of his shoulder and my sheets. Love is watching a summer storm roll in together, dry and safe. Love is observation; of passion, of fear and of delight. Love is acceptance. There’s nothing more beautiful than knowing and being known. Nothing more beautiful than opening yourself up to someone, being with them in complete serenity, complete coexistence and honesty.
Rolling over and looking into their eyes, and silently whispering, “I love you.”
That to me is love.
- c.m
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
The chorus of Katy Perry's song "unconditionally" is written in the future tense. "I will love you unconditionally." This implies that current circumstances preclude love. In other words, her love is subject to conditions.
She goes on to suggest "open up your heart and let it begin."
In other words, her love will become available if and when the subject decides to receive and/or reciprocate it. This sounds like the opposite of unconditional love.
She also repeats many times "there is no fear now." Irregardless of whether she is referring to herself or the subject of her affection, it sounds like there is in fact a lot of fear insecurity and reluctance on both sides. Perhaps this was supposed to highlight the wishful thinking of a person in this situation. Perhaps this whole song is a sardonic analysis of unhealthy, obsessive, unrequited love and how difficult it is to be objective under these conditions. Or maybe Katy Perry doesn't care that her young female fan base will listen to this song and see nothing unreasonable about it. Or maybe it's like the movie Shrek where it's fun for the kids but also has some elements that only adults will understand. Maybe Katy Perry is a gifted lyricist allowing millions of people with different amounts of life experience to listen to her songs and all hear a different message. Maybe the apparent banality of her music actually allows it to function as a sort of mental mirror, forcing people to confront their inner most thoughts. Maybe that's why her music is so popular, because everyone hears it as a harmonious duet between Katy Perry and themselves. Maybe Katy Perry is like a cool kid that's introducing us to ourselves, telling us that we're cool too. Maybe, all of her listeners, whether fans or not, have been enriched by her music.
Or maybe it's just ****** pop that has been marketed very effectively.
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
Kaincha tok normal, ever sangle wunnaya?
Omina tellya diss. Nuthin lie kat is good.
Alla us oiz tok English good allatime
Ever day uhda world in mah neighborhood.
Us is sum, y’know, good tokken people.
Yeah, ain’t nobuddy speaks good lie cuss.
Lessen there from round here, ah mean.
We got eddycated good, no muss, no fuss.
We don’t need no college, no way Jose.
We gunna do jess lock are parents did.
We go to school every day till eitghteen
Jess lock dey did win dey was a kid.
Ever now and then, you can get ahold
Of sum buddy whose totally iggnent.
They stick there noses up in thuh air.
They think there better, sumthin differnt.
But really, it’s just a mute point, I mean
Irregardless of whut they bin sayin’
They jess turn stuff round 360 degrees.
It’s jess a nother word game there playin’.
Thuh important thang is to be understood
Not that thuh people say everthang rite.
The important stuff to tok about is
To know whut is wrong and whut is rite.
Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 4:07 PM UTC
I can't get so bogged down
Like i do now
So often its
Boring to be found and
Lost at the same time
Finding time to lie in
My bed, or a coffin
Whatever works
For better or worse
Plans I don't make
Can't really change
Or fall through at all
Funny enough
My whole things been
Mauled and I'm standing here
Coughing and blocking out
More ideas
Pretentious melody's play in my head
But I can't slip into
Real world explanations
The sky can only be one of two colors
A sentiment tied to
One or the other
Or I'm left wondering why
It has to be
I'm still sick of every friendship I make
Its hard to examine the memorys
What I take, and what i leave behind
Trivial, and i wish i had a bit more
Control
I don't care about my future
Irregardless people will still be
And treat me the same
Way, and I'll still be pining for
The same things
Guarded and
Mostly friendless
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 5:18 AM UTC
Wutsa matter wit you?
Whirr you frumm?
You from summ furren country?
Cain’t you tawk better den at?
Murruhkunz doan tawk Inglush lie cat.
We talk good Inglush. We tawk da bess Inglush.
Ain’t nobody tawk better den us.
Irregardless of whut kine uh furriner you are
You could not tawk so ignernt.
It’s a insult tah good Murrukuhns tawkin lie cat.
You should be imburrst to tawk ataway in public.
Should be ashaymt uh yerself.
Yenno, peepo c’n perject thur ignernce
’N thur lack intelluhgunce so easy.
They jess open up thur mouths
’N let the dumbness fall out
’N thur it is, fer alll to see.
Yude thank they’d realize what dumshits they are
’N not let thur mouths write checks
Thur butts cain’t cover.
But, no. They’s flappin’ thur yaps an babblin’
‘Bout nothin’ at all, ’n actin’ the pure fool
Lack thur mamas din teach them nuthin.
Well, nuthin’ good, at lease.
Me, muhseff, I thank sumbuddy
Shoulda kicked thur butts
From here ta Sundee.
But, thass jess me.
I know thurs a buncha bleedin’ heart libralls out thur
That wanna let peepo get by with crap jess ‘cause
Sumbuddy is a Niger er ‘cause they’s Messcun
Er sum kinda ******* heathen er ‘sump’n,
But I thank thass jess wrong.
Peepo gotta talk good jess to respeck the flag
’N God n’ country. Or go home.
Yeah, go on back to whatever Godless place
You ’n your race ’n yer ideas is okay.
We rilly doan need ‘em here.
We’s good, God fearing’ peepo and hard working too.
So, if that ain’t you, *** on yer camel ’n ride
Back tah whurever you cumm frumm
Till you c’n tawk good Iinglush lack decent fokes.
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
Eyes ajar, still can't gaze far
No one dies, still feel subpar
Time flies & the days say their goodbyes
& you won't know my struggles, there's no memoir
Don't like to parade my weakness
I lust for people to see the value of my uniqueness
So bye trust, I can't reclaim you
Heart's inflamed & my mind hurts too,
I blamed & despised myself, so curse you
Find it hard to love, because it brings pain too
Yet I still seek validation regardless
I'm aware of my low valuation,
But please take me irregardless
This desire to be held needs to be quelled
Numerous attempts have been withheld
Inner contretemps between fear & paranoia
Has been ruinous. Don't feel contempt; I'm in ruins
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 12:02 AM UTC
Rivers dry up, except
The Mississippi.
If/When
That particular long and wide
And fat and deep
Body of Wa-Wa
Completely dries up,
The World, as SK
Was fond of saying of
Roland of Gilead and the
Shadowed Spire,
"Has moved on."
Monstrous
Glaciers partied hard inda
MIDWEST!
For, like, endless freezing
Nights and equally
Chill-laxing daze,
Man! Man? Dude!
Dudes? Little dudes
With spears takin' on
The Mammoths! No
WAY!
Way.
They'll not outlive and
OutLAST US, My
Frozen Bros!
(But we had fire, the roasting
Kind and the hot burning
Coals within our spirit,
Fire to perpetuate our
Species through endlessly
Cold nights and days)
Whoo-Hooo!
Dude! You plowed
DEEP last night, Bro!
What's that stuff on yer
Brow. Sweat?
Hey is it me or is it
Hot in here?
Dudes? We're like
SMALLER
Irregardless, or
Re, the You SSS of
A has a large dent
In its midsection.
Because those partying
Glaciers were forced back
Into polar hiding, shedding
Great earthen chunks of their
Fatty selves, carving and
Slashing
The most fertile watershed
In the country.
Their ageless and
Timeless enemy, that
Bright Yellow Orb,
Opened its great
Cyclopean eye, and
Focused, yet again,
Blessed rays of light
Heat, and life.
The melting...
Water lying on the ground,
Unsure? How about we start a
Pool? I bet it'll pay
Off to flow on not-flat ground, the
Pool collapses and begins flowing
With purpose, streaming
Together as a larger
Body of water:
The Miss
'Sippi.
Any number of
Numberless great and lesser
Lakes up North
Decided to be hole-
Y. Gravity
Did the rest.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:57 PM UTC
Irregardless, years ago
I had double pneumonia,
But, like, you know,
It is what it is, and like
I dunno, kinda like
It takes what it takes
Know what I mean?
It’s prolly a mute point
But I turned three sixty.
You know? I mean
I’m kinda like, I dunno.
It is what it is, like
I mean, whatever.
It’s all good, isn’t it?
You get what you need
And it ain’t no thing.
I mean, go big or go home.
Try to stay in the zone,
You know. I dunno.
No biggie, though.
Keep a cool tool
And don’t be a big fool.
Know what I mean?
It’s like I was saying
Don’t give up praying
Because God does not
Create garbage, you know.
He didn’t bring you
This far to dump you.
I dunno. I’m in for
The whole game.
It’s all the same.
You know, way to go.
Give it a chance.
Get up and dance.
Know what I’m saying?
I ain’t playing with you.
It like, you know,
I’m so sure, dontcha know?
Way to go. I don’t know.
It’s like, I’m so sure.
Whatevs, whatevs!
It’s so dope, sick, cool.
There must be
Some kinda rule.
I dunno, it’s like, you know,
It’s the way to go.
Give is your best shot.
It’s the bomb, the ****
It’s totally hot.
Maybe I am hot too,
But you know, I dunno.
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 3:28 AM UTC
An aesthetic storm settled in the
wee hours of creation.
What of it strikes favor or disfavor?
Beauty's immediacy comes with
fatalistic sweep--demanding
principle, demanding ground.
Unveiled beyond time constraint
all over our world--in praise, in
revulsion, eyes score the gamut.
As if image begs love, to be so...
or unrequited.
What's plain of light exposes all
flaw or beauty in a single sitting.
The sitters vary the material world,
with eyes creation asks us to paint
what we see.
The eyes paint the sitter if the sitter
be deemed beautiful, instantaneously
sight's canvas may be left cold...
burdened.
Beauty aspires to affirmation of being,
to have it echoed.
Beauty's lain raw, holds what's held it--
as such...desolation is easy.
Eyes bespeak their volumes...beautiful
or ugly?
A sightly, unsightly moment given to the perpetual.
Epidemic pageantry--ordered by creation
make due...irregardless.
If beauty--eyes are for you--if ugly...eyes
are not.
Thus...of being, of affirmation, of visible,
of invisible--you...beauty are.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
12
6+6
7+5
8+4
9+3
10+2
11+1
12
Seems simple enough.
Reality was like a *****
film. Beaten and touched
by the sins of a woman corrupt.
Too poor to play.
Mom was getting high,
so I joined a play
to stay away
from the fists and verbal abuse of the day.
No lunch money.
Mom was getting high,
So I left for school at 6 A
M. Yes Ma'am, I was dropped off I would lie
everyday.
No, Sir, It's ok I already ate" I would lie
everyday
Tim, wanna come over and play?
*No I have to go home and get slapped and and screamed at when my mom isn't screaming some strange man's name...I mean...I have homework to do."
Straight F's. Never attempted a page.
Too busy learning what goes well with sage
And how to calm my rage
The singe of my skin let my emotions disengage.
Every time the levees were going to break
Just crawl into my hiding place
Heat up a paper clip
and all that was inside would slake.
10 years later I am covered in scars
Hundreds, head to toe, all over my fleshy bars.
They are much more difficult to see.
However they are still embarrassing
Thus the long sleeves and I always wear jeans
irregardless of how hot or discomforting.
One day I want new scars, head to toe
tattoos to tell a new story.
of how I escaped the blues
I never really did but it sounds nice.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 1:51 AM UTC
A woman I once worked with
Was ordinarily quite intelligent
But when it came to pronunciation
She could become belligerent.
Her way was the right way
And she brooked no question.
Braving her ire, I decided there
Was one I had to mention.
She said the word comf-tubble
And I said that was incorrect.
She got so very irate with me
That I feared for my own neck.
She called it socially acceptable,
Her ghastly mispronunciation.
I said it was a sign of the times
The slippery slope of our nation.
If people were to go on and cease
An honored way of speaking
Then, we are all of us adrift
In a doomed skiff that is leaking.
She said some more to me
But I quit paying much attention.
There were too many “I means”
And “you knows” to mention.
There were ‘haftas’ and ‘ominas’
And the sad utterance, ‘wannabees”.
This poor soul would not pass
The first hour of a spelling bee.
I wondered if this poor soul
Had seen on a computer screen.
The words just as she was saying
On some website she had seen?
I accept that nobody in the USA
Or even in Merry Old Blighty
Says words like Wednesday
Comfortable or February rightly.
It’s like there is an international
Formal and binding declaration
That nobody need say these words
Correctly in English speaking nations.
We can lapse into hickbonics,
We jess *** tah stumble along
And say set instead of sit, and
Others we so often say wrong.
We kin say double pneumonia
And quay’s eye and nukeyoulurr,
Irregardless and even *** cans,
And nobuddy questions wut fur.
We c’n say thangs like reel utter,
SimmYooLurr, BennaFishErAiry.
Innerest, furrmillyurr, Mason Airy,
Flustration and shudder LieBerry.
But as sure as there is air to breathe
And that every day will follow night
Most people pronouncing words
A certain way doesn’t make it right.
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
My heart swings forward
across the line.
The doors lock behind me.
Now there is no choice but blue skies or rain.
Then I wonder what heart "means."
I wonder why the sky is blue,
and why things bother to grow at all.
But "growth" continues its bored stretch,
irregardless of my inability to understand it,
and I have better things to think about now.
I have her.
Her and that little grin that grabs hold of the corner of her mouth
then turns toward me and opens.
She knows that I lied,
before I do.
She makes me feel like a little boy that ****** his brand new shorts,
and a man that's found a woman I know
I will love,
whether I want to
or not.
I still sweat in my sleep, and grunt when I move.
But she is there sometimes now (when schedules provide).
When I wake in the night,
a boy that thinks he's a man
just because I'm not afraid of the dark.
And the light breaks through the bull,
that electric touch,
"The Spark,"
she knows it in her deepest sleep,
her deepest dreams,
as they bend my own dreams into,
a new future.
I touch her where she is covered in my paint splattered sweat pants
and her arms open to hug me
before she wakes.
I feel the love like a child,
like it was always there
like it just might always will be.
Like God has spoken, but we cut him off 'cause we already knew.
We will **** and we will laugh like we have and like the others,
but there is something else in this.
She will change me.
I know this.
Into what, I truly do not know.
Our planet spins and circles.
Wars begin and end.
Multitudes suffer.
Microchips shrink at an exponential rate.
American politics deteriorate, dwindling down Democracy to a joke.
The Giants lose.
My money runs out.
My leg hurts.
The fridge is empty.
The house is burning.
The fabric of our reality is splitting in two, and in three minutes this world will end and we all will die unremembered.
I don't give a ****
I love her.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 7:13 AM UTC
Teacup on the tabletop
With blossoms rising 'till they drop.
The buds are fresh but soon to bloom,
They see the gardener's sickle loom.
The porcelain birds and blossoms bend,
Their feathers reach up to pretend
To be a part of foliage green
With hues as deep as seas Aegean.
While painted plaster outlasts all,
Irregardless Spring or Fall,
Ceramic birds sing with a sigh
That flesh or stone, all men must die.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 7:00 AM UTC
On the first day of the year
I woke up on the wrong side of the bed
This year
Nothing changed
And yet everything changed
The bad obscured the good
Completely.
Governed by disorders
Trials galored
Tribulations were scarce
Shredding me were my emotions
As I ricocheted between mood swings
I took permanent residence in the doldrums
Walked on the razor’s edge
Sank deeper
The chasm is endless
Tripped by sorrow
I fell on my ****
Staggering, I rose
Fell then rose again
Only to be handed
Another ******* pill
Sempiternal thirst
For internal calmness
Remains unquenched
Refusing to take anything
Away from myself
Veering off the pessimism lane
Allowing the optimism
To settle in my blood
I feel compelled to admit
Irregardless of the turmoil
This has been a year of
Milestones
Transformations
Achievements
Realisations
And fractional clarity
On the blinding forest that is life
I shedded my second skin
As I went along
Not completely renewed
Almost...
Or not at all
I don’t know
I grew some *****
As they are essential in life
I blew out the candle
Lit for the one
Who will never be mine
I watched the flame fade away
But the thoughts of him did not
The road ahead is the toughest yet
I am placing the few good memories
Of the year in a jar
To carry with me
Into the forthcoming new year
These memories, it seems
Are for keeps.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 6:11 PM UTC
THE LADY OF ALOT
Estatic when she's shopping,
The boughten things she's got;
Right proud of all her purty stuff,
She's The Lady Of Alot.
Alot of costly Chinese stuff
Imported hear by Walmart stores.
She useta shop at I Magnums but
She don't like them ones no more.
Irregardless, she believes she
Ain't not no ordnary ****
If she'd of got haffa chance
She'd of voted twice for Trump
And the strait Republican ticket
So The Donald can fix are country
Like he exhaled in his own companies,
Making lots of good clean money.
In her sweatshop-made clothing
She shouts allowed she can't wate
For the Grand Old Party and Trump
To agin make Murrkuh grate!
She feel she's happy in her ivory tower
With all the treasures she has got.
She sees nothing wrong with this country
The dense, nearsighted, Lady Of Alot.
Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 6:19 PM UTC
Henny-yussly mischeevyuss
He orfed growshurries irregardless
Of the rawshussness and disgustment
Of the masonairy surrounding him.
We consistiountly tried to keep aholt
Of his mumbeulizing narrativation,
But he was dissensibly non-coherent
With a naturalistic talent to devaricate.
He was consistively disassembling,
Misindicating his intellectuality
And his irreality noissomely aloud.
Of his malapropicisms he was proud.
His crassy disaparagements reeked
And his ununderstandments peaked
They pointed out his misconstumblement
About his privates and the government.
His blabbermouthedness notoriastic
Rerendered him atombombastical.
His practicication of the irradical
Was mostly piraticalish; nastical.
His pernowncements so disapplaudable
Too bad his words were so megaudible
Unpossible, hyperdisgustisizing,
To the point of indisguising.
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 4:58 AM UTC
the king
gave you
this puzzle
called life
and you, jester,
rose to the occasion.
instead of figuring everything out,
you played around
— which meant
all rules you bent,
all instructions swayed,
all directions detoured,
everything but the puzzle was solved.
but irregardless,
the king was delighted
in your efforts
to make the court laugh
and in the end,
he gave you the key
and you threw it away
with glee.
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 6:52 AM UTC
i keep two buttons in either pockets
they’re part of my usual pocket cluster, wallet phone keys headphones matches
both hands in my pocket now, i run my finger along the ridge of the left button on the hard days
i roll the bridge between both buttons before sneaking out back and pressing the right button
but like all psychoactivities, relative direction, cardinal hand eye, the right button looks identical to the left and I left them both on the table in between tobacco pouches and empty beer bottles
things that press the left button: ominous psychosis, soma mania, fire flushes from ******* not listening, an empty checking balance, an empty emotional balance, an emptiness
things that press the right button: herbal breath in the nice chair, glassy eyes and extra papers, a quiet hour in surround sound
I stare at the left button while my dad calls and hover over it, pausing mid drag to weigh the consequences, weighing the empty balance, feeling an overdrawn surcharge to my soul, taxed in tension, fumbling headphones
the left button sometimes makes me yell, dissociative silence or telling strangers to go **** themselves because I can’t afford the time for anything else
It’s usually the left button I smash against the wall, slaughtered, obliterated, my friends hand me broken batteries and shattered screens and say things like, “press the right button, stop pressing mine”
things that press the right button: not me, usually.
things that press the left button: the left button presses the left button, leaving me with a locked right button, pressed permanently and I fidget with a flathead trying to pop that ****** back out
why can’t I hit the right button?
why am I stuck with the left button, ad infinitum, added insidium, snarling and suffocated, shaking it out in the center of my bed
it might be easier if they left me in a blue gown, *** exposed, *** laid down, pressing that ******* button by the hospital bed, pressing that ******* button like I know how in the coward’s way out
irregardless of what button I press, or what gets pressed, or what’s pressing me and pressing against me, they find their way back into my pocket cluster
pockets with my hands, fingers that get skinnier until my fingers are thin lines or circles or buttons themselves and I have nothing left to do but give them to you and have you press every button, drugless and dampened
things that press the right button: you when I need you to
and when you press it, the left button and the right button are one in the same
they are you and you can withstand being pressed or being there to be pressed
out of my hands and a little lighter
Jul 19, 2020
Jul 19, 2020 at 6:31 PM UTC
First and Last impression foisted a revelatory sheath that
is the looking glass of all incarnation.
Revelatory sheath Facing both ends of the whited tunnel...
prior to birth when exiting...upon death when entering.
What was, is, will be Faced...prelude to the sound of
silence...that is the mouth of the nameless called by Name.
White pearls that spun their shells, as dilating eyes that
behold self in no-self.
Space fatigued by perfect stillness...self in no-self, suspended
animation...whose mind is allotted infinite motion.
The Original Face...whore features insure paradox...must be
worn and beheld Wholly...lest a chaotic incoherence whorls...
irregardless of the image of self...imageless no-self.
If Pure Consciousness had a Face--divested of its Way through
materiality, to melt by that which it cannot transcend...how
would it appear?
*"Original Face" is a Zen terminology referring to our face before we incarnated.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
You saying to me that you
will love me no matter what
I choose to be, no matter how
I present myself, whoever
I love, and always, was exactly what
I didn't know I needed to hear. And you
kissed my hand and I
wrapped my arms around you fiercely I
love you and will not
let go.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
I guess it's true The only thing good
that came from us
Was a child who should
not have to be fatherless
He was even named after you
Irregardless of opinions from a few
In hopes you would love him more
Enough for your frontside to walk through his door
But hey...Its hard to have a baby with a *****
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 10:56 AM UTC
We have given you all kinds of names
But they all bubble up to one.
You aimlessly float around,
so beautiful,
So fragile,
Only you have the courage to be so vulnerable.
Around you we shrink and worship your magnificence
We want to hold you,
But we are afraid,
Afraid you might burst,
We had forgotten
Forgetton your true nature
irregardless of whether we reach out or not .
You will rapture.
Sprinkinling your remains on us
Slowly you seep in.
unseen,
unheard
You make your way to our hearts, again.
Ohh love, you are such an interesting phenomenon.
Jun 1, 2022
Jun 1, 2022 at 6:21 PM UTC
I am a product of god's ignorance
I've been built from marred clay
Blame me, for sanity's sake
But the potters hands faltered
Irregardless of what some might say
I ingest every ounce of ink
I can manage to get a hold of
Until it permiates
And percolates again and again
Filtering through matter once gray
Leaving it saturated
Invoking imagery
Evoking change
And aptitude long since vacant
Because we bet on friends, but count on ourselves
With a fickle mistrust
Hardly justified, but well enough adapted
Laughable, really, when its thought about
Its only been recent that I've had so little time to place bets
And so little time to gamble
Like a trick of the vagrant wind
Ageless as it flows between a million meetings of the minds
All great and inspired
Lying on so many final wills
And parting testaments
Grave, where is your sting...
Assumed to be bitter, it would seem
But bonds long since sutured to flesh
Make for an easy stretch of time
From now
Until forever ends
Each and every one
Each of my bones was broken and
Then set into themselves
Folding over backwards
Misshapen and deformed
Heaven blessed my torments many
Bitter running brooks that flow
Over every broken bone
Making each one whole
Restitution, but at a price
Vengefully demanded sacrafice
Only half a moment wasted lost in thought
Standing on the brink of a crossroad
Goddess, take a hold on me
Spirits, rend my soul free of these
Would be chains
A fall like lightning can illuminate
A dark night
The symbol of an age ending
And another fire burning
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 12:03 AM UTC