"littleness" poems
and were the ears so pleased when:
the iciclic needles dug into our skins,
fleshy cloths that, sewn together,
made the mask to hide the whole.
we wore them like the cheapest of trophies,
the basest of glories and the simplest of stories.
we wore them to contrast to the whiteness of space,
the empty black white gray of life's living littleness
with the reddened hardwork of claymade shells.
they glowed with the rusty red of millions of faces
free to make their mark as they see best fit.
we had found these skins
forgotten on the floor,
and so we picked them up
with our biglittle hands
and opened the door
to newmade makings and
brand new beings.
it was empty within us--
the beings of old
and the yearnings of yore
had retreated far beneath the surface,
burrowed deep below mountains and meadows and
hills pushed up like sand in a box,
crushed against the sides of our enclosure.
it was silent within us--
the screech-making moon
sang in time to chest-beatings
and the barking of stray dogs;
the melody of moments lost in time.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 5:26 PM UTC
I'm really sick.
Like ***** is going to come out of my mouth--
an eruption of **** from my ears is due.
I've laid too long dormant
and one by one the hot spots of my petty jealousy,
indignation, and
mistrust are at boiling points:
The Ring of Fire, they call it.
Yellowstone
I'm the ********* Yellowstone caldera.
The great rim,
****** up and blister scarred,
knock-kneed from falling out of bed in nightmares,
weird from the predisposition to volcanic shittiness
(not in a romantic way)
but none the less active,
or reactive.
This vexation is as old as grinding plates.
This repulsion is as old as the poisoning of Aristotle
My head is the Spartan scythe
because I'm a new sign in an old world.
I use old signs to poison this newly dug well between us
But not well can I keep this message
banner
******* billboard to myself.
So let me just wrap the code from ear to ear,
in plain text where you can see
the cypher: **** your red dress.
You see,
those blisters are the gravity between White Dwarves
pulling at skin, and earth, and ending thrown halfway across the universe.
I knew I'd seen you before,
there at the edge of the Oort Cloud
where we tell people we just met:
I stopped eating
I was hurt once
I was ugly too
and no one was really listening.
You and the rest of our red dresses meant too little.
But still then why do you whine over the hungry, and hurt, and ugly
and spit in my face for being there at the Edge,
and for loving the thrill in listlessness,
the passion in mundanity?
And that ******** about the shallowness of victims?
You didn’t learn a thing
traveling and trusting and falling out of beds.
Your drunken honesty is your sober lack of layers.
This isn’t a far reach of space,
your torn dress and cork heels won't work here.
Don’t bring that littleness here,
you're the only one not really listening now.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC
sometimes,
The time it takes
to curate a reality
Where
The eyes of a hostile reflection
Don't contribute to, but consume-
the moment's prison of littleness...
Is it not possible?
To escape eternity's hour's ceaselessness?
Hope,
is too short;
we perpetuate-
it takes shape.
we preform,
then placate.
Jul 16, 2024
Jul 16, 2024 at 8:00 AM UTC
In the wild confusion of my life, I saw your face
A kind countenance making bright my days
Through rugged tracks when I stumbled along
I felt an unseen hand holding me strong
When bewildered by the horrid scenes of death
You assured that life extends beyond mortal breath
When lost in the dank and dark alley of wickedness
You diverted my steps into the well lit path of righteousness
When I gloated over my own trivial accomplishments
You reminded me of my littleness through mild chastisements
When I lost myself in the grip of vanity
You opened my inner eye to restore my sanity
When tossed by the currents of fiery storms
Lord! You made me seek the safety of your arms
When drowning in the sea of escalating pain
You sustained and strengthened me and kept me sane
Many got wiped out from the face of the Earth
Without seeing the New Year’s birth
Thank you for allowing me to see this glorious dawn
‘Extend your hand’, I pray, for me to hold on!
Make me feel, you are there in every rhythm of my life
More when life becomes burdensome with problems rife
Over the arid deserts and the stormy turbulent sea
I pray to be by my side as an abiding presence, piloting me
My Lord! Without you my life will be in peril
Never let me fall into the snares of the devil
Do not desert me, stay by my side now and ever
Be my guiding light and sanctify my every endeavor!
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 10:53 AM UTC
YOU came with your small tapering flame of passion
Thinly burning like a nun's desire,
Your eyes in slim and half-expectant fashion
Faintly painting what your veins require
With little pallid pyramids of fire.
So very small and unfulfilled you sat,
Building a little talk to keep you there,
Your face and body pointed like a cat,
Your legs not reaching down from any chair,
Your thoughts not really reaching anywhere;
So dumb and tiny--yet Love guessed your mood,
And pressed his phial in its fervent bed,
And poured his thrilling philtre in my blood,
And all his lustre on your body shed,
And hot enamel on the words you said;
Your littleness became a monstrous thing,
A rank retort, a hot and waiting vat,
Your eyes green-copper like a snake in spring,
And lusty-bold your laying off your hat,
And fell your purpose like a hungry cat;
The dark fell on us through our narrowed eyes,
The heat lashed up around us from the floor,
Encrimsoning the lips of our surprise
To sway like music, and like burning pour
Across the truth that parted us before.
1.7k
-Studying car lights from outside- an automobile's slow flash-
Primary colors of headlight reflections, flirt in their dance-like dash.
Here I sit in the back of my van, in the corner on the side of the street; I've been right here since 5pm, how the hours lapse with deceit. Its been just over 5 full hours that I've been paralyzed in this seat; Now as it's pushing 10pm, documented my defeat:
I'm more than done with this pit of fear,
overcome the paranoid gap,
all I need is to now pause, re-evaluate
Exiting this trap.
To wrap it up in this conclusion
To iterate the hours ceaseless delusion
Is to redefine isolations inherent seclusion- with confidence, strength-
dispel illogic's confusion.
Sep 7, 2024
Sep 7, 2024 at 3:17 AM UTC
I am a musical note in a guitar
Waiting for the touch of dexterous hands
I am a chrysalis under a paling leaf
Waiting to be turned into a butterfly
I am raw ore in the far depths of the mine
Waiting to be extracted and purified
I am a smoldering piece of coal in the hearth
Waiting to be blown into a flame
I am a rough stone under the Earth’s crust
Waiting to be hewn into a diamond
I am an antique piece long buried in the soil
Waiting excavation to become a treasured exhibit
I am a piece of canvas fixed on the easel
Waiting for the touch of a master artist
How I long to transcend my rawness
Into something better and refined
But can I do anything wholly myself
Never! Everything depends on others will too
I discern I am only a flickering shadow
That has existence only if there is light!
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 6:35 AM UTC
Snow-covered
Memories
Of wooden homes
And thistle bushes,
And flowers the colour of
Almost spring, and
Frost-covered
Eyelashes,
Releasing crystals
With every blink;
Descending tufts
Of white littleness
Thawing
Against skin
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 6:11 AM UTC
I find these days my head bows down,
Lost in trees which bear no roots around.
We all continue to strive for their peaks,
That we might find the validation we believe speaks.
Because in a forest of hard line and concrete,
We think all there is, is a standard to meet.
Our bodies are young, but our souls are so old,
And craving some place wild and bold;
Where the forest which hems is ancient with moss,
And the rivers carve streets no foot can cross.
Tall mountains send out the wake up call,
That every man and woman will fall.
At the end of the day, the wild remains,
And strives to survive through mans foolish claims.
Yet I am lost to the toil and to the strife,
Of simply trying to make it with my life.
But make it where? As what? And why?
Because I try to escape the fact that all will die?
No solace can be found in the wealth of a king,
But give me a glimpse of an eagle on wing,
Amongst valleys and coasts where few eyes see,
Where the snow melts and brings new life to be.
A morning crisp with dew, and a chorus of song,
Some place wild where our old souls belong.
So short-sighted, so corrupt and insincere,
We try and conquer all that we claim to hold dear.
Even though we are but fleeting on a beautiful plain,
We are determined to burn, to clear and contain.
What if we were to become who we could be,
Honouring and reverent of all that is unbound and free?
To feel insignificantly small again,
That is the amazing gift of summit and glen.
A simple reminder that we are all but participants,
Not gods, completely unaware of our littleness.
Sitting in awe of the symphony of life abounding,
Lost in our utterly magnificent surrounding.
So I choose to take to the trails, the ridges and paths,
Which lead to the furthest and cosiest hearths;
To meet other wandering souls who have left behind,
The confusion and delusion of a self-obsessed mind.
And be prepared to lose and find myself again,
Away, into a wild embrace, her rugged domain.
My soul cries for freedom, some vision to see,
New life bursting as a bud on every tree.
Swept up in the miracle of a tale much bigger,
Than the measurable wealth of my yearly figure.
For in the wild, can be found the perspective I need,
For my searching soul to truly be freed.
May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 9:58 PM UTC
I'm a tiny little boat
and you're my
open sea,
i beg you
to
madly
swallow me up.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
I wish
I could fly
high
above
myself
above
the wordly littleness
and see
my heart has
but a regular human size
and the gold inside
glimmers as much
the same
and all vanity
and presumption
forgetful time
will equally
devour.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
an ant fell in between the page
of the book,
even its own silence it does not understand.
from where to climb it does not know,
all steps carve discourse;
staggering in its littleness, its fragile
mind takes on the mystery of star
and its delicate body swells in the sheen
of words.
as in the night, it trails the moon's slender stem that transfixes
a constellation's ephemerality:
a soldier tumbled over, undulant,
amazed in betweenness of light
and dark when god himself dies
before his fall was born,
o trencherman, deep in the peril
of a word's closing, fusion of
knowledge's breakwater and permutations of bluntness,
the unwelcoming abyss is your kingdom,
unwillingly enduring the taut blow
without purpose — when the book is shut, to what dark do you imagine your
eyes? to what enigma does your senses
wake up to? and to what erudition does
your silence keep flowering?
an ant fell into the book, and in its turning page, it rides each changing wave like
the white in its pale, blue horse,
arriving at different shores, yet all the same, a notable fate: stilled and dizzy
washed and unmoving in the abject night.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 4:55 AM UTC
happiness is when i look into you and you
hold me with your knowing gaze that i fear
would bring more butterflies in my stomach
it is when you touch me and draw circles
with your palms around my back when i'm
lonely
it is when your hands feel warm against
my skin even when it's a cold and stormy
world outside
it is when i absent-mindedly throw my head
back and lose myself in laughters and smiles
from the things that you say
it is when you tell me that i make you happy
even when i feel like that is what i lack
talent at
it is in the simple things we do
in the littleness of it all
that i believe in so much
and even until now, i am happy
because happiness is here even when
you're not around, my mind's always been
about you and i will always feel you around
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
Only
GREATNESS
Now
••
All the LITTLENESS
the PETTINESS
-
All the SUBTLE ACTS THAT LIE
---
These most be done with
We must be WHOLE now
Or we shall die!
HORRIBLY!
SHAMEFULLY!
INDECENTLY!
••
Only
GREATNESS
Might possibly see us thru
To LIFE
••
To the soul that is MAN
••
••
All the past IS ERASED!
Only You and what you shall become
According to your BELIEFS remain
••
Beyond HOPE
Above FEAR
WITH OR WITHOUT "GOD"
(Whatever the truth is. --
So shall it be)
••
Only the LOVERS
And the LOVE
••
Only YOU
only ME
------
Be REAL
be BRAVE
no more TOMMOROWS count
Only TODAY
••.
ETERNAL OPENNESS
INFINITE GRACE
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
to die? i think it is appropriate
that you should less of striving
body into the vast littleness of
nokissing, lips never, and ivory
bare of the candor of your muscles
spokes of whitest, spindles become
and dust
lastly
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC
Stubborness is the reason for all woes;
the unwillingness to speak and to listen
makes all problems continue and grow,
harder to fix, pain deeper, unforgotten.
Lack of communicaion is a constant of my culture;
A wall between generations written in my future
before I was born, before they met each other,
before ideas of my existence
One generation, my present, cannot forget this “negligence”,
be it conscious or not, because my beliefs, my feelings, my being are built over this foundation of lies that I grew up knowing to be truth, to be reasons for which I acted as I did
Hideous.
unworthy of this Earth.
Just yesterday I was made aware about others’ pain.
Although leading to different understandings and results, same
As what they made me live.
Paranoia, worthlessness, littleness
All of which I’ve felt before, I could finally see
that she too, was broken, something amiss.
I felt a deep connection; understanding, a new feeling
Understanding of why she acted as she did,
hard, unyielding.
But yet, never could I forget my own past,
nightmares and fears that still last;
And I question my place here,
I question my future, near
I question everything she asks of me,
every “question” she does not expect an answer for
every question that ruins me that much more.
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 1:32 PM UTC