"linkage" poems
a national
dilemma
fears abound
losses loom darkly
i lose mine
if we are covered..
i versus we..
awakening
from this dream
a new lucid vision..
there is no i
nor a we..
a bewildering surprise
the linkage
our real constitution..
the real
patient...
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 5:43 PM UTC
Wrenches clanging, knuckles banging
A drop of blood
A new part here, and old part… there
A hotrod had been built!
A patchwork, mechanical, quilt
I drove past the banner that said “Welcome Race Fans”
Took a new route, behind the grandstands
And through my chipped window, I thought I could see
Some of the racers were laughing at me
I guess chalky grey primer is not to their taste
But I put my bucks mister in the right place
I chugged-popped past cars that dealers had sold
Swung into a spot, next to something old
Emerging with interest from under his hood
My neighbor said two words, he said “sounds good”
The voice on the loudspeaker tells us we’re up
Pre-staged, staged, then given the green
The line becomes blurred between man and machine
Bones become linkage
Muscle, spring
Fear, excitement
Time distorts ….
Color disappears …
Vision narrows…
Noise --- becomes music
Speed --- satisfaction
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 11:36 AM UTC
an all purpose cleaner response to the
how-ya-doing-question,
as my vibe unmistakable;
the hatred in the world directed at
MY PEOPLE,
is inexplicable, beyond reason,
a hatred raw and pure in the
tiny places we humans hide it, lest
our ancient linkage to an unreasoned,
embarrassing emotion, be revealed
but now revealed it is reveled,
as the freedom to despise is a
valued thing
is an ancient scar, now freshly wounded
and the two thousand year old accumulated, callused,
surrounding wafer thin, layered upon layer of
tissue,
wiped away
in utter disbelief
cleansed,
a different kind of impure clean,
“like” an ethnic cleansing,
traceless, whisked away in a wink of moment,
a goner.
like hope, prior sentient optimism
sentenced to life imprisonment and
this sentence, and this very sentence!
written finally understanding that it is
a punishment
far worse than the quick relief of death.
c’mon, how about a few “fukk you jew”
cri de coeur, heartfelt, genuine, pointless
hate
no, not I, no, not me,
spare me the pithy comments,
the pointless sympathy, glistening
like evaporating water droplets
before disappearing, I ask myself,
not
why they hate, why it persists,
for this I understand and accept
the foulness of what we are capable of is,
beloved,
as a secret pleasure, now secreted in torrents.
no, I ask myself,
why do I write poetry,
for it is as pointless as
the hatred directed at me,
from birth, till death,
and ever after,
the humanity of poetry
just another fraud
another reason
why this man cries in the bathroom,^
not from any shape of shame,
because poetry is pointless
in times of hatred, and now we
know, recognize, it is always
somewhere, nearby, always
present and prescient,
pointless hatred,
itching to be pointed at me,
makes for
pointless poetry.
To whom shall I point my poetry?
Nov 12, 2023
Nov 12, 2023 at 2:08 AM UTC
Surround me now, LOVE, like linkage
From beauty to the belly-button of the beast.
Umbelli me here my dear, let me feast
My eyes on your whole from the inside out.
Your flesh and bone, tan-toned complexion
Is ******* with my pheromones.
I crave your privacy; forbidden zones
Between ticklish toes and feather pillows
We'll mingle moments and non-moments of
Equal weightless ness.
A shared glass of milkwith your lips lingering
A lazy-fond sofa-based simmering.
A clinging a crumpling of breath accidental
Harmony undressed by a simple - YES
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 2:03 AM UTC
I think we're going extinct
I hate to even blink
...
I remember when we were in sync
But things changed
We will act strange over change
Being caged and attached by chains is voguish
Are we hopeless?
Why can we polish our pinky rings
But leave rust on our linkage chains?
Our words don't bond anymore
Our words are shackles
Our words are like crooked spurs
And unbalanced saddles
Yeah It travels
But lies are to be told
Only to smear what we really withhold
I think that we're going extinct
I hate to blink
As my eye lids flicker
More and more existence spills from our mankind
Man-kind
We're turning into the kind of men
Who emotionally melts when we see celebrities
Where's our rectitude?
I think we're going extinct
I hate to blink
Where's my natural woman?
Every time I twitch
More and more she accepts the word *****
And in no time a guy can become exposed to her hips
Where's our morality?
Are we going to expire
All because we create our entire empire with desires?
Desires and thirst that require us to hurt
We smile and we smirk
We loath from good work
We poke at nerves
We drown our minds to swerve
We absorb potion
Only to tranquil our motion
We indulge in copulation
With a stranger
But somehow for consolation
...
We are endangered
We are a few more trends away from complete annihilation
Eradication
Liquidation
Obliteration
Cancellation
Our tendencies are cancerous and if we keep being patient
We will need medication
I don't feel any radiation
To not become subject to our decimation
I think we're going extinct
My instincts tell me that
Though we're a percentage and a contributor to this nation
We are approaching ruination
My instinct senses that I am one of the few who mentions devastation
And if I blink one more time
And if we keep wasting time
We'll be wastage
We
You and I
We'll be ejected from the race
And they'll use a prosthetic ethnic affiliation for our replacement
Can we come together with cooperation
Resisting this operation
May we all stand up
Before they go through with this amputation !
Blink
Lets see
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 5:55 AM UTC
Darling what your words have claimed, is true. I have grown an affintity for you, and, but a mere fatuation would undermine my emotions for you. You could be as poor as the dictionary can describe it, but I would have no dispute with breaking bread on a futon in a one bedroom apartment, for my darling I would have you to share it with. I cannot explain in any way or word what linkage I feel towards you and what imminent, unborn quandry, disagreements or dilemas we might face. I'll be over and above to put those problems to their knees, shut them down and subjugate them. Eye, there will be exceptional recherche, eye there will be dissatisfactory and atrocious, but I vow to never slant in our interconnection. I'll stand by you during quandry and I'll stand by you in a war, because not only my heart that loves you so dearly, my soul has grown quite fond towards you, that never before have. And in all verity, I have gone far more than fall in love. I vow to preserve and protect thee love.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
who were they kidding, twas evident to the eye
who were they kidding, twas evident to the eye
a love connection did abide, longstanding of nature
a love connection did abide, longstanding of nature
twas evident to the eye, a love connection did abide
longstanding of nature, who were they kidding
in public careful they were, concealing a linkage
in public careful they were, concealing a linkage
a mishap would give them away, they played it safe
a mishap would give them away, they played it safe
in public careful they were, a mishap would give them away
they played it safe, concealing a linkage
why do they persist with a charade, truth is being honest
why do they persist with a charade, truth is being honest
feelings precious can be shown, covertness lacks integrity
feelings precious can be shown, covertness lacks integrity
truth is being honest, feelings precious can be shown
covertness lacks integrity, why do they persist with a charade
a mishap would give them away, a love connection did abide
twas evident to the eye, truth is being honest
why do they persist with a charade, who were they kidding
feelings precious can be shown, they played it safe
in public careful they were, covertness lacks integrity
concealing a linkage, longstanding of nature
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
recent recognition of
surprising butterfly
power
wings with influence
both near and far..
science’s magic
a poem might share
finding joy and strength
a freedom flight…
a poem as bone
a spinal light
iterating downward
then looping up..
4 words
3 words
2 words
one..
one word trembles with
joy/suffering
finding its home
on the spine alone..
a punctuating /
introduced above
our fraction slash
a new poetic linkage
an evolving vision
separating/joining
our fractured world..
a special invitation this /
new awareness
finding dimensional paths…
poem’s spinal light
expanding
vibrating
curves and colors
on many scales..
simplicity/chaos
a name with slash
butterfly/wings
an eternal dance..
poem’s garment
weaving
light/chaos/suffering..
she must stand right here
absorb this darkness
become this pain..
locating at last
the waiting bone
spinal light connecting
once more and
once more…
our butterfly/wings
even now returning
freedom flight arriving
a prayer
a poem…
Jun 22, 2012
Jun 22, 2012 at 10:07 PM UTC
awry, askew,
the poetry comes badly, clawing,
life as well, faring poorly,
the obvious linkage stinkage
allows a milliseconds smile,
a brief fiefdumb accolade of
distress confirmation
DH Lawrence appears in the inbox,
he too, awry, askew,
tufts of wool clouding life like dust,
rust and must, an old friendship renewed,
the cold ex and in-eternal suggest
frequent naps and hibernation,
so much so that this script was
commenced and committed years ago
and lay forlornly in the ***** snow
fallow and shallow drafts from prior years
To every season there is a turn,
a turning of the *****
yet the hacking cough from focculent dust on the floor of the world
fills the lungs continuously, knows no respite,
the spittle and the phlegm ejected herein,
a disarming poem of dissatisfaction, alas, alas,
the dust thickens and is not lessened
~for Medusa daughter~
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 2:35 PM UTC
Beyond the rules of reason
our field of co-creation
where linkage has no impact
on present living play
relaxed expanding essence
expression of desire
manifesting dreams now
this magic is our way
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 11:18 PM UTC
Fri Feb 10
8:12 AM
“As artists, we are exposed to a heavy level of scrutiny, mostly from ourselves,” adds Villarini-Velez. “At times we might be insecure when a choreographer asks us to do something that takes us away from our usual, classical vocabulary. I felt like some of my peers who aren’t exposed to this movement would feel insecure at times, but nonetheless, rise up to the challenge of exploring new levels of artistry. It’s easy to rely on our usual bag of tricks, but I enjoy the risks of detaching from what looks good and moving in a way that feels good. It’s our responsibility to rise to these challenges and expand our artistic horizons.”(1)
<>
guilty. as charged.
so, incorporating new words,
differing styles.
do what does not come naturally.
“detach from what looks good,
moving in a way that feels good”
make radicalization your ethos
make new-for-you your eponym.
give your name to what you create,
a mere signature insufficient, it is not part of the work!
taste the wet words upon tongue and lips,
let the saliva linkage be to the following morseling phrase,
the mouth sac moist be where verbal embryos are birthed.
hear them spoke in your voice, but,
silently, in your mind, and yet, speak-say them inside
with the shocking thunderous force of a newborn’s first cry.
and when you read them assembled,
weep with pleasure, relieved, this, your child,
looks exactly like no one, with but trace elemental traits of you.
but it is all yours, sinew and cell, fiber and skin,
drawn unformed, ejected from the intramural hollows of the body,
then and only then, mark them at last as truly
mine..
Mar 23, 2023
Mar 23, 2023 at 2:05 PM UTC
This trio, conjoined by the snaking coil of a common dream,
Put forth their writing on the proverbial wall
The void between breached by the collective of the written word
Surreal landscape all the while sifting before their wise eyes,
Reached across miles to clasp their hand in the hall of time!
Never quenching the fire of their talent threefold muse,
Or assuaged in time the darkened orbs of the wise.
Through those hands that reached out for each other,
Three incomplete souls, three beads of one unique rosary,
Their heart full of amorphous love,
Breathed into each other a new life,
Became one missing piece of their puzzle,
Bound by a string of silent promises to stay intact,
To not fly away from each other, no matter how high their wings took them,
They set forth a journey, a journey full of never ending journeys.
The perils of their Fellowship, intangible
And the only barriers space and time
One being divided in three by fourteen hours and many miles of Earth
A chance linkage has set this pursuit in for a piece, a work in motion.
A work to describe their separation is forged
And the cogs of a collective mind start to spin.
A single piece borne from heart to heart as in a compendium
Spread out, and all around them the duties of the spherical lay;
Compiled by their hands is done,
And the same rising of the sun is seen of the three in each own way
The beauty of each rose is unfurled like the beating of each momentum!
The victory shall soon be won!
The goal of their want was met by the shores of brighter halls;
Herein contains the working of those annals which rose out of grey walls.
Now hand grasp hand to work complete,
And forged a work and friendship which cannot delete!
Though they rise and fell,
All around their eyes did well;
To see the beauty of one goal,
That did not crash upon some far off shoal!
So ran they the race of the clock which halted—injuries could not hold
The lays of their hearts was far stronger than the ills and their story's told.
The wheels of motion could not stop their voice,
Now they each rise up in one and do rejoice!
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 10:42 PM UTC
My thought process never really got around this...
How I could not profess to latter, the feelings for a goddess profoundest. From genesis you willed the cycle of life like Mother Nature, even though it grew to be your nemesis, you still recycled time to mother a stranger. Pincushioned by Love once…no twice, the repercussions of a chronic illness costs an arm and a leg. Pushing love once, no dice, but sneaking cousins call it weakness and so they come and beg. Polaroid picture of a vintage flower you are, keeps shining through the darker lens...Paranoid feature, a linkage to my late Father’s cool car, keeps driving to Wonderland. Ma, I’ll always admire your strategy of war, patience is virtue. How you always lit the fire of synergy and lore, I’m your patent statue. Inhale coz out of breath, resuscitated late being paid, or realised the thorn of this lifeless hell.
Derailed and out of depth, an eviscerated state of being, as I laid my eyes upon her lifeless shell. Hide eternal gears, moving aerial still…shots coming fly under. I cried internal tears during the burial...
the deal is shortcomings lie under. Best say it real, they tried to **** us both Eyes and Toes. Hence, I break the deal coz God sealed us both like Ice and Stone. Nefertiti won the game of thrones now, name me king!! Never guilty, walk, aim, overthrow the beast now, Angels sing!!
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 6:01 AM UTC
due to the modem not
functioning perfectly well
gaining access to the
internet hasn't been swell
break downs in communications
are never good
one can't contact the world's
vast neighbourhood
friends and family were
waiting for my linkage
but I couldn't see their
social networking page
the modem didn't co-operate
via its connection
on this Thursday I've
made the needed correction
a new one was installed
by Ian Giang and Co
which has given me entrée
into the web's mojo
not having a working modem
really is the pits
one isn't able to view
a computer's tid-bits
Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 5:51 PM UTC
So and so thousand of years ago we dwelled, dawdled, subsisted.
Connected by instinct and possible affinity.
What linkage, or seam could be listed?
D.n.a., dreams, common elements in our lunch?
I would like to esteem if we were to meet we would bore each other, and stare at our feet.
I've come to a modern conclusion that we came together through time with infinite cause.
Our gathering however would be brief in nature, because its probable we **** another without pause.
Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
the desk drawer was open, extending an invite,
cheap blue handle scissors, easy see, on top,
robbed of excuses, went around the house, all my
personal goods, mission oriented, trimming away
loose threads wherever they were hiding in my life
no expert in love, for sure, but struck by you people
linking love and dying, over and over, like they are
hyphenated, siblings, separated twin children, that
long to communicate, checking each other out on the
internet anonymously, cause these two linked in ways
not understood, loosely tied, a threaded linkage, can you
please explain?
(mysterious)
is loved only fully realized,
when it phoenixes?
burnt, slowly agonizing,
arisen, resurrecting,
is it one cell endless
dying, re-splitting?
Paul calls,
asking:
“and you wonder why we, why you,
why I am still crazy after all these years?”
12:04am
Wed Sep 9
plague year
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 8:33 AM UTC
Okeh, three ways, in the opening pitch,
the plan is novel, in itself. Okay, ok, si yes da ja.
We know, we do this part,
as words in mind, nada mas, a thought caught
as a poesy fallen star,
from Lawrence Kansas, not too far from
Shawnee Mission,
now that the meme and its meaning meet once
more, realizing a time kept hidden, for fear
of believing more than a Marvel Mind,
straight from first edition, Boom, era, of fully
Disneyfied American Mind, sponsored by
Mattel its swell
and Mars Candy Company and other child aimed ads,
though there was this unaffiliated
- channel, I was about to say, of course
- groove, rut, a grave - with its ends kicked out,
Can you
Imagine, he said that
amen?
and we all agreed at once, and what do you know,
there is a mind in the grand linkage system,
forged from ice by iron plows,
balance demands, optimum life on earth calls
the call to us all, be the thorny issue ye be
ye nanifestations of Romans 8, taken in minds
conjoining to attain, peace made
for temperature equilibrium,
just right…
think of it from an angelic anthro-myth-ledged being,
see the book of life talk to you, and say,
look, man, we made it, and we made it back.
But unless the temperature is going up, we failed.
Try again,
but no war this time. That's proven too self willed
a thing to give children premade.
My stick men were all Audie Murphy, when I was six.
Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 6:41 PM UTC
a linkage
fragmented events and
colors
growing emptiness
differences shout presence
similarities mostly hidden
finding only hints
glimpses
within those differences
glints of light
connecting at last
linkage
a parable
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 1:15 AM UTC
Who would span the linkage of the days, and to what earthly end would the toll of time send me breaking to?
And would the ferryman play sticks and stones with my crumbling body or would he have me throw the bones and tell of fortunes squandered?
I
have nothing left to tell of what bridges I have walked across,what joy and loss I found in mansions and in tenements,now
in Coventry sent there by my family in silent wandering I see the chain stretching out in front of me.
And who would join the dots to make this picture right,to read this epicure I spread upon the leavings of my night?
I write,I write until the brightness of the bursting sun comes round again to burst this bubble and in pain,I shout,I shout or scream and cry and when the sun would die tonight,I write,I write.
He,
inside of me knows well the moments and he counts the minutes,strikes the hours and all that passes in between are him and I,the sun waits patiently for me to cry.
Let the artisan then span the chasm that keeps me from the other side and let the ferryman glide well across the waterway.
Let my day be joined with all the other days,send the breakers in as I go gently out with the ebbing of the tide.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 6:20 AM UTC
***Ancient Natives
of Earth
and others in-lighted
have found linkage
Earth and Sky..
Imagine then know
Earth a new form
of the Sky..
A simple relation
remembered
enriched their days..
A Truth
available always
to penetrate
our longing...***
polarityinplay
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
hypochondira and hyperactivity,
misguiding nouns.
*vinum bonum et suave,
bonis binum, pravis prave,
ave mundana laetitia!*
łyski - whiskey -
łysy... itching to slap a skinhead...
so the question:
what are the ad hoc parameters of
cogito ergo sum?
i so wish to be given an
ad hoc clarity for certain maxims...
in most instances they're bibles,
obscurity riddles them a hymnal status,
and that said: holy.
i wan't to be given the ad hoc
instruction manual for certain
eurekas...
i'm told that the already stated
prefigures subjectivity...
and that the subconscious
isn't merely a bystanders' experience of
puppetteering...
insinuation sphere...
just like i might add third party
inquisitors demanding of me that:
every dream has a hidden meaning behind it.
so many have died trying to
create the uncoscious contraceptive...
this mental *******
this exploitative subconscious insinuation
puppet motivation...
the subconscious only exists
to create the other's drone capitalisation
of fragility...
the synonym of the subconscious
within groundwork of making choices,
acknowledging ethic, is insinuation,
spies and the alphabetical fixation on
subversion, and all other subs- congregate.
and it really does sound like nonsense
once the enemy's tongue is waggling...
some even called it the
omnivore safehaven...
when in fact so much was prioritised
for dietary requirements...
that became bouldered
anorexic grey-areas;
synchronised skeleton army
tugging the chimeras of crimea,
shortened to the word: Krym.
knowing this tongue, i should be apt at
forging any and all ethnic linkage with it
being expressed: i should be gagging
for a forthnight spent in las vegas!
but there's me, dreaming of a tartar steak.
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 2:11 PM UTC
Themes running through me
pulsing beats only
I see,
can you hear them?
Is Zen
audible?
The vaudeville show starts at five,
the theatre's alive with the comics,
the sidekicks and
the stars of the show.
If I go will you come?
will you run through the night and
flash into the sun with me?
will you?
Themes running through me,
a haunting,
Excalibur and Arthur on a roundabout
table, in the stable, stands Trigger,
Roy is much bigger than me.
Voyages,
years in discovery
cover me,
only I see,
is Zen audible?
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 7:56 AM UTC
The spatial rend, the roar of time,
The pain of a mother, the infant's whine
The correlation, the linkage
A part of a mugger, a part of a sage
Is the deep and pure Soul,
Enriches the body and the mind
Makes us living beings whole
Ever ours, ever thine
An array of generations travelled, as eons passed
Experienced all the emotions, being loved and harassed
Our talents and affinities, it is the source
So don't fret and worry, and certainly have no remorse
For it is all a process, designed by a much higher power,
Our spiritual aura, our opportunity to soak the droplets from the evolutionary shower,
Is the evolution of the Soul, our destiny and our guide,
So what are you waiting for? Accept yourself for who you are, you now never will have to hide.
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 11:32 AM UTC