"literately" poems
You remind me of my existence
You help me remember all, I need to remember
I never loved anyone like I love you
I don’t think I can live without you
I literately die when you die
I surrender myself to you,
Smartphone, Oh my beautiful smartphone!
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 3:51 PM UTC
The Smell of Honey, Coffee and Apples and Messes of Words, but
No Love Poetry
<^>
*my poetry suffers from a literately literacy,
the adjectivally of imagery wears away with
time and age eroding the imagination, when one’s
days are numbered, being serious is an natural
unpleasant hazardous haze, never in doubt
The morning meal of cooked oatmeal, steel cut,
laced with wildflower honey, slices of honey crisp
apples and Hawaiian coffee brewed,
singes the
Tropical Storm Ophelia thrumming humidity
that overhangs the ugly grays of NYC sky-paths,
one tickles me awake with contradictory impulses:
sweet and sour,
a robust stimulative, competing with the smothering of
grayling clouded weather weariness of
48 hours of rainy continuity,
a spirit suffocate
you see!
give you myself, my environment, in précis,
unimaginative exactly as it occurs to me, sensually, yes,
but cannot shake my disappointment that no,
can’t combine visionary notions that spin your swivel
chair around, powered by your exclamations of
ooh, ahh, and little stabs of weeee punctuating
our shared atmosphere
and bring forth
only love poetry
but no mas,
the love poetry doesn’t comes to the fore,
the forehead stuffed with words best listed as
basic, observable, factual,
Miley Cyrus, accuses me of being jaded,
but not with accuracy, more straight jacketed,
way past that half-way point of no return,
turning back is not a listed menu option
love poetry
demands, requires and requests
envisioning, precursor to dreaming,
but I am choking on matters-of-fact,
questions of survivability,
that do not
shed love poetry words,
I
love exclaiming
to any and all within hailing distance,
my loving firmament, but the damp atmosphere
swallows my hopes and sounds, even though
still can smell the lingering nearness odor of honey and apple,
yet, other hints of memory beg to differ,
and I sadly and easy confess,*
this is not a lovely poem…
- * -
Sep 23, 2023
Sep 23, 2023 at 12:44 PM UTC
Do not be afraid;
go ahead, like my page,
because oftentimes sad is
the only thing I am,
and if it is in sadness
that I am solely literate,
I shall be sad,
and when you happen
to give it a like,
I will be unspeakably glad.
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
So literately,
Say you are walking forward ahead of your friends and family.
Your are walking a little bit faster to get to your destination.
Everything in front of you is new nothing you have ever seen before,
but there is no one there with you.
If you slow down your caught up with them again.
Makes sense.
Slow down enjoy the time you have with them.
Don't fall behind you seen all that **** already & no one else is there.
Your alone.
Don't run ahead no one is there for you to share the sites with.
Walk beside them, enjoy them.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
A deeper inquiry
Is a priority
To catch
And identify
The complexities
Of our reality...
Pay attention
To the nuances
Perhaps keep a tally
Apples and oranges
Are far from
Jams and jellies...
Narrow views
Are often
Ordinary
Surely
We are more
Than extraordinary ...
Try to keep
In mind
There must
Be more
To all this
Hocus Pocus
Then simply
What's literately
In our focus
...
Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 12:54 PM UTC