"laxity" poems
Easily Tux
Laxity Use
Laxity Sue
Taxis Yule
Taxi Yules
Tau Sexily
Axe I *****
Yea Xi ****
Yea Xi Lust
Aye Xi ****
Aye Xi Lust
Ail Yes Tux
Sail Ye Tux
Ails Ye Tux
Italy Ex Us
Laity Ex Us
Taxi Lye Us
La Suety Xi
Talus Ye Xi
Lax Yeti Us
Lax Suety I
Lax Ye Suit
Lay Exit Us
Lay Suet Xi
Lay Tuxes I
Lay Ex Suit
Sat Yule Xi
Taus Lye Xi
Sax Yule Ti
Sax Yule It
Say Lie Tux
Say Lei Tux
Say Lute Xi
Say Exult I
At Yules Xi
At Yule Xis
At Yule Six
Tau Lyes Xi
Tau Lye Xis
Tau Lye Six
Tax Yules I
Tax Yule Is
Ax Lieu Sty
Ax Yules Ti
Ax Yules It
Ax Yule Tis
Ax Yule Its
Ax Yule Sit
Ax Lye Suit
Ya Isle Tux
Ya Lies Tux
Ya Leis Tux
Ya Lutes Xi
Ya Exults I
Ya Lute Xis
Ya Lute Six
Ya Exult Is
Ay Isle Tux
Ay Lies Tux
Ay Leis Tux
Ay Lutes Xi
Ay Exults I
Ay Lute Xis
Ay Lute Six
Ay Exult Is
A Lyes I Tux
A Lye Is Tux
A Ex I *****
A Ye Xi ****
A Ye Xi Lust
La Yes I Tux
La Yet Xi Us
La Ye Is Tux
Las Ye I Tux
Lax Yet I Us
Lax Ye Ti Us
Lax Ye It Us
Lay Ex Ti Us
Lay Ex It Us
As Lye I Tux
Say El I Tux
At Lye Xi Us
Tau Ex I Sly
Tax Lye I Us
Ax Lye Ti Us
Ax Lye It Us
Ax Ye I ****
Ax Ye I Lust
Ax Ye Lit Us
Ya El Is Tux
Ya Let Xi Us
Ya Ex I ****
Ya Ex I Lust
Ya Ex Lit Us
Ay El Is Tux
Ay Let Xi Us
Ay Ex I ****
Ay Ex I Lust
Ay Ex Lit Us
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 12:38 PM UTC
I can feel the gravity
savage sadness grabbing me
like a stabbing agony
panicking heartbeat rapidly
like a drastic atrophy
my own tapestry of travesty
applicable calamity
catastrophe is my canopy
the faculty of tragedy
with no strategy for amnesty
the laxity of sanity
I can feel the gravity
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 4:57 PM UTC
I am circumcised, therefore, I enunciate...
circumcised: to purify spiritually
On the eighth day,
from my nativity,
circumcised,
as is the custom of my
wandering tribe.
marked thusly,
perma-identity carded,
thusly begins the path,
a pink-bricked road this one,
not to the Mighty Oz,
no phony curtain pulled aside,
where anyone goes to get
spiritual purification
for a price
Ah, you suspected something else,
something explicit,
not me~style,
give you honey,
road provisions,
come along for the observing his
clickety clackty clock
Ready?
For where we venture there is only
one exit,
And you are so not ready - I am who I am and I am
not ready too...
every line an enunciation,
every stanza an annunciation,
Angel Gabriel, a solo duo, unlike
Beyoncé and Jesus
we be on our way to any kind of purity,
poetry can buy
who knows what awaits us,
could be catholic, universal,
even the uncircumcised
get a chance to enunciate.
let me offer a clarification.
proclamations and sensations,
conditions and exploitations,
brown eyed girls, and surfer boys,
functions and malfunctions too,
abbreviations or adjudications,
conjugations in the congregation,
exhumation, the final excommunication,
I shun none,
I enunciate this:
false starts and junction boxes,
too many so so tired,
when can I lay down my shovel
and cease the decreasing deceasing of the body
this day nears complete,
and soon to eat
the last meal,
and still I ask
when can I lay down my shovel,
when will purity be mine,
my spirit's circumstances
repeat the commercial,
I am circumcised, therefore, I enunciate...
forgive my abstrusion,
my metaphors always offer perfect laxity,
choose the interpretation that pleases most
and my drift is toward the end of days,
when will my brow be a motif of
anointment and crowning head birth?
This is my Enunciation.
I cannot yet lay down the shovel,
and this writ is as of yet, still uncircumcised -
completely incomplete, it will be finished
when the spirit says
you are the purity,
the trinity of two hands holding two others holding two others holding two others and the chain is perfect because
it is broken perfectly, a forever repetitive respective handle with care
process
Forgive my visionary words that
give little clarity,
so summary due you,
This is my
Pronoun citation
I am
I am circumcised, therefore, I enunciate
on my way to the purity of spirit.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
dancing on the sands of agony
to the saddest song of apathy
standing behind tactical amnesty
with no chance because we lack capacity
we can't advance in fantasy
in rampant mankind's laxity
this land is ****** by strategy
a lack of sanity and demanded voracity
a stance of disbanding amity
we enhance the mass audacity
with plans deteriorating rapidly
we only last for a chance at catastrophe
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 10:40 AM UTC
I can feel the gravity
savage sadness grabbing me
like a stabbing agony
panicking heartbeat rapidly
like a drastic atrophy
the tapestry of travesty
applicable calamity
catastrophe is my canopy
the faculty of tragedy
with no strategy for amnesty
the laxity of sanity
I can feel the gravity
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC
We kissed us
A fine windy evening
So warm and gentle, yet thrilling
We grasped, we held, we touched
It felt quite eloquent
We tasted each other bitterness
And sensed each pain we had
We mourned, we grieved, we gnawed
We had our eyes slightly closed
Time's told to stop ambling
The universe dropped dead
As goddesses were gazing
We kissed us
We collated each other laxity
We created another rhapsody
We possessed as we became one
Jan, 28 2016.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 6:12 AM UTC
a single confinement
beset all the materials
the home, the people, the
sanctity of belonging.
the prominence of interaction
so deep-seated and yearning
the very fiber of our cells
beg for collision and reaction.
a life starts and ends
for us all as equals
chemical, and apoptotic.
we grow to believe
we are beyond this.
invincible.
allowing us to set ourselves apart.
from animals.
from one another.
a life so self serving and cyclical
allowing the viewer of their life
to experience
true laxity
of all that is important.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 6:12 AM UTC
Alicia, Alicia
Reminding me of a once blissful time. I wonder if you ever think about it. Living a life of laxity and becoming a being of chill from attitude to soul.
You are so beautiful. You remind me of the possibility of our probability your name a legend in my heart.
I still hear your voice telling me goodbye the first time, just smiling with books in your hand… I never stopped smiling that day.
But only a year later, you left for good. I don’t blame anyone, I understand you had to go.
But I want you to know that I watched you walk out that door. I felt solemnity in that last hug and could taste your tears when I kissed your baby brown cheek.
Alicia, Alicia
Where are you now, baby girl?
What’s on your mind and who do you taunt now?
I must have a problem falling for phantoms, for when I finally open up and show my real personality, she always slips past my numb fingers and away into the dark.
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 2:31 PM UTC
catkins hang from trees
like lost hopes
of homeless souls
corpses splayed out
like guileless nodes
dripping from the trees
ligamentous laxity
like the gum
we spoke of before
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 6:39 AM UTC
I’m looking into your eyes right now. I love you.
Don’t quit not quitting on yourself, whatever is in your heart — big, important, longing stuff like the quest for true love.
Swing tenacity’s knife exactly as sagacity has swung your ***** nilly dilly head.
Look reality in its bright, bulging, blinking eye.
Track down any self-care apathy within, jump any legitimacy laxity — **** them both.
And don’t forget to take up the continuous, scientific adoration of honesty.
If you adore emotional integrity, if you favor psychological congruency, if you pound out new affective territory — then you will not fall off a cliff at night and you will not lose all you have always hoped for.
Here is what to do.
Stare love right in the snout and speak the truth, lean in and grind out a bushel basket of openness, eat a yard of authenticity and knock back true falsity.
Shout, charge and retake the emotional high ground.
What are you thinking?
You are all that anyone could ever want — you precious cargo, you personhood of inestimable value, you absolutely gorgeous emotive mess.
You’re tired?
Okay, go watch some brain dead TV.
You’ve tried and failed?
Okay, go to bed and get some sleep.
Remember when we had lunch last week. I told you that the first three tries don’t keep the fourth from succeeding.
In the face of failure, tenacity is the still the best policy — and ontogeny.
If you can’t grow one thing then grow another, you long, glorious bank of radiant blooms planted in previous springs.
Every seed you have ever sown — even if it has died in someone else — has flowered in your own soul
Dec 19, 2019
Dec 19, 2019 at 4:49 PM UTC
perfect summary, of pre-times, the ex-diurnal regularly raggedy,
lyric line, of lunar linear days, wave to it hi/bye crooked jaggedly
foretelling, of a first time, when world was self-imprisoned, wondering, a sin of commission, an omission from a shut-up confession
guilty of laxity, no perspicacity, our fortune telling, loved our ignorance,
lazy greediness let sickness rule, everyone pointing no, not me, fooled
heroes dying in saving, rich in New Zealand hiding, while poets
march in punctilious timing, mourning lost freedom to be unafraid
all thinking, now disbelieving, we’ve lived so well so long,
but the fault-lines cracking showing all of us were emperors naked
from now on, we’ll live so long, not so well, suspecting each other,
the masks we will wear forevermore, dual purposed, protect and
hide our ashamed faces, gowned to disguise, finger pointing
not my fault, but the curve of life and death, proclaiming good bye:
***so long so well, so long glass houses, so long, age of so swell, we too, sophisticates, above the fray, impervious innocence, so well we dead
gutless guiltless***
<>
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^ ”*And I don't know a soul who's not been battered
I don't have a friend who feels at ease
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered
or driven to its knees
But it's all right, it's all right*
We've lived so well so long
*Still, when I think of the road
we're traveling on
I wonder what went wrong
I can't help it, I wonder what went wrong*”
“American Tune” by Paul Simon
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 7:52 AM UTC
Pre somnabulation
I would taste the breeze
tease
the dew-lit louche
revealing airborne revelations
tingle,
soft of foot, divining
cool uncomplication
drinking deeply of
the hill-born wood
contented
in
passive eccentricity,
I celebrated unison
a humbling becoming
only dignity condones
When transitory laxity
forgave my foreign callowness
I took the private brook
to where the quiet rooks row home..
Oct 14, 2023
Oct 14, 2023 at 5:38 PM UTC