"magnitudes" poems
the cosmos
a web of plantary oppositions squares and triangulations
curses and blessings
demons, humans and gods
friends and enemies
each a constituent
a revolving carousel of heavens and hells
the macro, an umbrella of spilling stars
like shattered glass in flames
outer and inner stone & gas planets
wandering infinitely
like strays
others in tight gravitational ellipses and eclipses
the elements of fire air earth and water
from the most subtle formless
to rocks flames oceans and the air we breathe
disjuncture
in a
a mix-meister
a gruesome churning mouth swallowing our delicate membranes
and we wonder
why
we are in pain
why
we are nourished by flesh
as we ourselves are consumed
filled with blood and nothing
and deadened by marking time
all hungry shells
and why
we wither to dust
as do suns and moons
and gods themselves
all of us children of monsters
and corpse eaters
born of magnitudes
episodic collisions
and harrowing creative destructions
the dead living and the living dead
with eyes that flicker only on half a landscape at a time
a holloween
of pyramids and bones
always running from wolves
because we are meant to be eaten
okay my darlings
now
lets try
focused breathing,
and boundless light
lets try
being Hindu
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
"Born"
was created from lost hopes
dead dreams
unwritten tales
tough waves
"Born"
has magnitudes of words to be spoken
to be written
to be heard
"Borns"
profile is simple
If I told you my story
You wouldn't be satisfied
You wouldn't understand it
you would seek more of it
and still beg me to stop narrating it
you won't bear the pains
but you will crave for the joys
"Born"
is most about reality, life
not much fiction
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
Luna is a silent world,
a wasteland of sere beauty.
It’s “seas” are dust and waterless;
Rainfall? Zero, absolutely!
In this place where birds don’t sing
and nothing green can grow.
We built the Armstrong Geodome,
in secret, years ago.
Here, on the “dark” side of the moon,
in a Mare without a name.,
a climate controlled paradise
was built, and workers came.
Some were miners, strong and buff
who search for this world’s gold.
Some are research scientists
one hundred fifty men, all told.
In Twenty Forty Seven
all hell broke loose on Earth
There were nuclear exchanges
and what followed next was worse.
A winter like none other;
we listened, helpless, as they died.
Starvation is the cruelest fate
for any mother’s child.
One by one they all fell silent,
the great cities of that Orb.
Deaths occurred in magnitudes
the human mind can not absorb.
We struggled, yes, but we survived
without the ships from home.
One Hundred fifty adult males,
like the mariners of old.
We mourned the Loves we’d left behind,
We shuddered at their fate.
Our Refuge was our prison;
We lived deprived of child or mate.
The streets of Armstrong are always clean
as cleaning bots are on patrol.
but here no children laugh or play,
it’s a town without a soul.
Two decades we spent in that place
then came the words for which we yearned:
Atmospheric radioactivity
to safe levels had returned.
I was on the first ship home
to San Francisco Bay.
The landmarks all were flattened
The Golden Gate in ruins lay.
We mortals wept, I will not lie
Our cradle had become our grave;
The streets of home were silent,
there was no one left to save.
Terra is a silent world,
a wasteland of sere beauty.
It’s “seas” are toxic, lifeless now;
Children? Zero, absolutely!
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 10:44 AM UTC
It's been one week,
since I told you,
nothing of importance.
But one week,
since you told me,
anything,
at all.
How soon I forget,
what it's like,
not to be,
at a person's disposal.
How quickly I remember,
that remembering is,
a bother.
Easy folk enjoy easy listening.
A magnet that draws sound.
Vibrations of different magnitudes.
But visually, all the same:
On a large enough body; what proceeds:
A ripple on water's edge.
Beauties and questions evoked.
Memories that hold vehemence.
Open ears that trickle red.
An eye for an eye.
A tooth for a tooth.
A *** for a ***
Sour taste, before I spit.
After all that said,
so it goes:
She is left feeling discontent,
because her friend left her behind.
A friendship no longer pragmatic,
left her detached and unkind.
After one move against her,
inadvertently made her the bad guy.
Assimilated ignorance was transferred,
leaving her with raging eyes.
Now a maniac, but once shy.
It started the day she was betrayed,
and her friend left without goodbye.
Friendship turned into a frivolous demise.
She never thought of compromise.
She will always be left on her own will.
Only living each day with empty glare.
While she sits cynically by her window sill.
Reliving old days, and perfecting her stare.
It's been one week,
since I told myself,
nothing of importance.
But one week,
since I've asked questions,
and have realized that,
in your twenties,
you are partial to saying 'No.'
Implicit No, god-forbid a subtle yes.
You know yourself.
You want to know yourself.
You hope that you know yourself.
And,
In the scheme of it all,
the ***** shopping mall,
the empty alleyways,
**** and trash,
looking down at laced shoes,
transcends society's social boundaries.
Those little moments at the end of the day,
that make you smile,
are the reason you should not become frustrated.
It would be the same,
as letting a long car ride ruin a vacation.
Thinking short-termed has never led to outstanding goals,
only temporary satisfaction.
Life is short,
but it is long enough to learn how to pick battles.
There are far more important things to worry about,
than ill intent with loved ones,
or even strangers.
If someone steps on your shoes,
let it go.
Use that frustration to better yourself,
and when you can,
buy better shoes,
and walk a mile in them.
Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 3:03 AM UTC
A grand gateway, reaches
Towards heaven, burrowing
Into hell itself, resides in ridicule
To an immortal being, in mortal flesh
Nightmares are cocktails for truth
Incantations to shatter bones into keys
Padlocked manipulation and deceit
Failed attempts echo in magnitudes
Both sinister ploys and moments of joy
Ripple into cracks, teasing of another side
A truth for the ancients, beings without moral
Fathomless worlds of nuetrality and power
If ever for a moment, and not a moment more
These shockwaves of the mind come shattering
Blowing down this door, screaming rage and ruin
Then I will be free, of the chains which bind me.
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 11:29 PM UTC
I'm crushed under the universe
Caved in by the earth
My thoughts are opaque
The embers rise and awake
My soul is kindled by hate
Disguising waves as siege
and rapture as higher belief
I will take what they breathe
Lungs collapse under pressure
Thoughts escape me entirely
I was lost in a deep sea
Then cinders became steam
Regret built up by ideas
Creating your demise
Where consciousness goes
when it wants to dive
Power at the end of my fingertips
Blood boiling and veins disconnect
String of minds began to intertwine
with everything exhausted but alive
I start to fracture and break
Every fragment began to burn
Their words wrapped my bones
Reality shuddered as rage was born
The ground quaked with fear
Magnitudes driven by resent
The shake of the world
Reminding us how scared it's been
Wrath spun out of me like a storm
Crashing down with thunderous force
My eyes torrential judgement
on all of those who could stand before
Meteors shower from the heavens
Leaving their will rack and ruined
Divine justice came to pass
Pervade with brutal execution
Nov 1, 2021
Nov 1, 2021 at 9:58 PM UTC
There used to be spaces
Between falling asleep and waking up
Spaces without emotional gravity
Where it gets hard to breathe, and I am turned inside out
There used to be spaces
Between pale fingers and heavy shoulders
Spaces cold with longing
For a breathing, comforting warmth
Where these spaces used to be
There's now you
Within every weary crevice, your presence flows
Every touch a lingering sediment, filling pieces that were once broken
Fossilizing fragile parts that were once left to die
Where these spaces used to be
There's now you
Patiently holding me through the varying magnitudes of my earthquakes
Silently bearing my uncalled eruptions
So accepting, of my faults and folds
There used to be spaces
Where what was precious to me were only the gemstones I collected
And where these spaces used to be,
There's now you.
Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 12:53 AM UTC
Why do I even bother ?
Oh this is not a poem to sway you with romantic words, no infact i probably won’t share this with whom it belongs.
No more an apology, and reallity check for me!
Oh but that be said without malice for you!
Rather all I do is ***** things up!
Even though I’d try my heart to make sure to get it right with every intention to make your day!
I’d get it wrong I don’t even truly know where I went wrong!
But somehow hurt you i did!
Thats more painfully riviting ro my core far more than you pushing me away!
Many words come to mind from pathetic, useless, idiotic. Waste of human space, and many more, sad to describe anyone as this sadder realising this of oneself!
Should have got right the first time and save everyone the waste of time!
Have had to get my head around not doing anything they call stupid for so long, i honestly strugle to find a reason to carry on! For what? Why?
And mostly cant say it would stupid, no be thei ly thing i can think would make sense!
To hurt the one i love no matter what i do ill ***** it up!
Hurting you is an unbearable thought!
How could i live with myself?
Cant see how i can get rhrough that
Let alone this pain!
You mean so much to me!
Ive said is take a bullet for you! (Die for you)
But would rather live for you !
Now if you not there?
Cant see much hope at all !
No where! All rhe general reasons everyone would usually morivate you with, would hold so little weight!
This pain be out of this world i try but cant expain this be of magnitudes earthquakes couldnt measure on the same scale!
And somehow i try find that reason in fear of hurting other loved ones!
Somehow i rather find hope!
Not the hope youd think though!
Oh no this is hope that my loved ones (famil) will understand this pain and somehow forgive me for my intention be not to hurt them, but to find ease finnaly!
Comfort knowing id be not the reson orhers will hurt tomorrow!
Yes dark and dismal thoughts!
Or are they?
Are they not in other ways considerate?
Oh oh i lean to think so..
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 4:13 PM UTC
With you at heart this I write!
Tho no words be sufficient to express my love!
For the soul you bear so fair, so true!
Oh my love for you of this I swear, be of magnitudes no increments could be of measure!
Oh Just knowing you a blessing so great!
I thank God I found you!
My Soul Mate!
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
tonight, i stand still,
all but well and slain by your
widening grin, with hair casting
ill-sketched shadows across
your cheek, out in the street, under
these humming lamps. under
this enveloping front.
some moment my head reeled
reveries of pretext for. still,
here i blink,
so unprepared. stuffing my
belongings into a tramping
pack late at night. laid out
on the couch arm. nothing knows,
now, i'd rather see you than
anything. careful footprint
placements. we got time, yeah.
still, honey, i'd trade magnitudes
of it up, for just just just a
handful extra seconds
skirting your gaze.
still,
honey, i'm atypically hopeful;
trembling here. i'm lit up
like you couldn't believe. i'm
on fire and kept warm,
throughout this meanwhile;
undertow miles away. grass
shooting up through the
soil in the back
yard.
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
**** you! **** you!
A million more times:
**** you!
It was made a task to appreciate Beauty;
You somehow manage to eclipse the Holy
and cast some twisted Shadow
on all that passes so very far below
victimized, ephemeral
you.
You brought out
the ******* worst in me
but that's okay,
I need to experience that
to better learn who I am.
Maybe it was
as it needed to be,
though you sure acted with the grace
of a third-world firing squad;
the wounds weren't even fatal.
Your memory brings out
the worst in me,
but what can I say;
you're inspirational.
I've never found it so cathartic
to be so ******* angry;
it can be so **** nice
to cry, scream and then collapse
and just lie there, numb,
in dim, limp elation
feeling magnitudes better
You're ******* inspirational.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 12:49 PM UTC
In silence now, lost all senses and time. mistaking favor, to whatever God I'd leave behind. Embracing a cold night. White hands paling rip around me pull my head down and to the side. for all my sobbing surrender, screaming, whaling, voices his favorite lullaby. My kind of lonely rejoices an impaling goodbye .The dozens in dimes paid for, The Devil throws a grave rose mockery in my sight. Horrific benighted, there's no pretending our knowing who gets through. Now gazing into me, "you see how much God's love remembers you?" "Sneaking around him is nothing new." "I'll lift your eternal warnings." Thinking my dying hearts no place for a soul to reprimand, and warnings always stand. pointing to look to the promised land, from here we see coffins of glass poking through the sand. Devil rolls his tongue, contorting the messages to lies. Sighing, "only selling closure for the broken, and before they die, they're always asking for new, agent blind less, pain enabled, and filters to my lies, you know there's always a truth in what I do." All actions have paid for, misery prayed for cheapens a forced fed compromise. knees cracking the ground, clasping hands and hollow eyes, agony stayed for, pain in magnitudes you could never never describe. take the gate keys to your burned down bridges," enjoy the blue night cold before white hot ignites the sky.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 7:29 PM UTC
In everyday Life, just like in Mathematics,
the idea should be to *isolate and solve for *variables,
not to *increase the number of *variables.
But, to answer my own question;
If you enjoy thinking analytically,
if you are a fan of Logic, and the power it holds,
you'll find yourself using that **** all the time.
*It is magnitudes better
to humbly learn from those who came before you;
who, for the intellectual progeny of Humanity,
were considerate enough to record their wisdom
(once we figured out we could)
than it is to reinvent the wheel
every ten years
with each successive herd
of self-absorbed students.*
However, that said,
it is vital to forge new ground.
It is necessary to reach out from History
in order to encounter anything new
from which we're doomed
to learn a thing, or a few.
The capacity to teach one's self
is a skill limited only by one's self.
The ability to learn from others
is truly a skill of nearly infinite wealth.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
Your trailing starlight woven with silver needles
Enters the mundane life of human days;
And magical tongue recounts miracles uncounted,
In magnitudes of unexpected ways.
Your vision never balks at walls or ceilings;
An artist's heart is not like other things,
The words like hope in slowly burning censors
Take to the sky, once given freedom's wings.
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 4:43 PM UTC
there is always solitude
in the centre of the road
crossing over shades and
tones and
magnitudes of light
sometimes there is solitude
in the stream of thoughts
crossing over dreams and
age and
magnitudes of gloom
there is never solitude
on the ways i walk alone
crossing over fear and
loss and
magnitudes of hope
Jan 31, 2010
Jan 31, 2010 at 11:06 AM UTC
I’m huddled in a corner -
I’d move but I’m paralyzed
by invisible patterns of heavy air
and magnitudes of decision.
I know I must motivate
this unconvincing vision of myself
to struggle with the immaterial forces
and perform the pointless activities of life.
Oct 14, 2021
Oct 14, 2021 at 11:50 AM UTC
I can't sleep when she's gone, because she's my reason for dreaming
Half-way across the world, and my heart still beats with hers
I can feel magnitudes of vibrations left by the whisper of her soul
Because we're two halves of a star turned to dust, forever connected
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 5:24 AM UTC
I cant really explain the feeling.
But its like when we are together our heart beats intertwine and create one sound.
One melody.
A song so beautiful that i'd almost dare say matches yours.
But that wouldnt be an accurate statement because the beauty you posses is of the highest magnitudes.
When im with you, you take me to the highest of altitudes.
And gently you bring me back down.
You keep my head in the clouds but at the same time my feet planted on the ground.
It's as if you are my exclusive gardener and i am your garden because your aura gives life to every inch of my existence.
Without you I'd surely dry up.
Without you I'd surely fade away.
Like a Scribbler on a hot summer day.
Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 12:07 AM UTC
the television blares with what you could have been,
soft and delicate or rough and bare.
i couldn't tell if you longed to have those features
swell with fierce magnitudes.
i turned to you, gave you some kind of initiation,
to graze the surface of what this was and what could have been.
whether it held proof or pure fabrications,
i swallowed the facts and liquid courage to
stumble out onto your doorstep.
I emptied my thoughts as you held my hair back,
but it didn't provide much of a conversation.
as i felt the words claw up my throat,
i took another sip on the way back to your room
to let my dignity build back up again.
Jan 12, 2011
Jan 12, 2011 at 9:09 AM UTC
If we
Stepped back far enough,
I bet we could
Fit the Earth
In the far corners of our hand.
If we measured
The heavens just right,
And picked out the exact
Magnitudes, I bet you
We could do it.
Because I know.
Whether we know it or not
The distance between
Our hearts
And the very center
Of the universe
Isn't all that far.
We just
Have to find the right
Measuring tool for it,
And no,
The telescopes,
It won't do this time.
The galaxy we are shooting for,
It exists only
On the pinpricks of our fingers.
Its standard unit
Is that of closeness and
Of vast quiet.
I'll show you.
On the count of three,
I want us both to close our eyes
And whisper.
1...
2...
3.
See there?
There is home.
And you hold it
In my palms.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
clutching chaos in a tight embrace
fingers clasped, a strong grasp
ask the trees, root deep
snuggled in the soft soils of mama Earth
yet skyrocketing, infinite potential
ask the water
skipping and stumbling in silly streams
soon to transform into mighty rivers
oceanic magnitudes conquering the expanse of this planet
ask the flames
making candles flicker weakly
but in the same essence
fuelling the volcano
a rudimentary relationship so simple
yet vital to development
its not a myth
rather an equilibrium of elements
in unequal proportions
but complete unanimity
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 12:00 AM UTC
The clouds danced,
Conjuring winds of destruction.
That blew across the wastelands.
Dark skies,
Ebony abd silver hues of light.
Rolling thunder,
Within the eye.
Of the storm.
They were powerful back in the day,
That day of the destructing man.
Magnitudes of power,
Rapidly increasing.
This a dark day,
For thee.
Beware thee eye,
Sense your demise and dance,
Until heavens cry.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 8:28 AM UTC
Generally cheerful institutions
school and hospital, The Constitution,
roadways with their yellow stitch lines.
Order on the mountainside, in the city,
the veneer is thin, the people thrifty,
the freedom to associate unlimited.
Smoke the cigarette, sound the subwoofer,
I woof and bay like every other dog, proof
one cannot escape the planet, life's foolproof.
Magic's secret- rabbit, lion- the inner
animus emerges from the hat. One eats magicians,
the other's skewered for dinner.
Thus, happy and sad at once, death a solace
and a fearsome fright. As the dashed lines pass,
confidently, and when necessary, I drive fast.
An afternoon, one hundred years of solitude
for our silver maple. Microscopic magnitudes:
the snake's skin, the fly's wing, the man's mood.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
Some days I wake up
Mind torn from
stress dreams
And no desire to breakdown
On campus.
So I skip class.
Trapped in my mental jailcell
I dissect my compulsive thoughts
Only to see they stitched
Themselves back together
And are resistant to leave.
On days I can grasp and hold my will
I stew in class
Noticing my classmates
Who speak louder than I do,
Who answer questions more eloquently,
And speak science fluently,
I am left to boil in my
Lack of voice, skill, and knowledge.
At the end of my first class
I am already overdone,
A husk goes to the remaining classes
For me.
On days I wake up
Already
overwhelmed
I skip class
To avoid
Meltdown
Fighting fire with Magma,
this technique is
purely self-destructive.
And I know it.
Pressure builds like a volatile volcano…
I FAIL my classes and ERUPT
The peak that is my self esteem
Shattered by emails from professors,
The lava oozes down the slopes of Mt. Me
“Maybe I don’t Belong Here”
Starts the a nearby tsunami forming
Underneath my scalp
It gathers speed and force.
It decimates the cerebrum.
I have to rebuild...
This land is recycled often
Tremors with magnitudes that match
My GPA
Keep me vigilant and mindful
that collapse is part
Of my nature The complex societies that are rebuilt within my mind always thrive
….at the beginning of next semester.
Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 10:15 PM UTC