"nanoseconds" poems
I've spent the last 3 months in rehab
rebuilding myself after you tore me down
and admittedly there's still pieces of me I haven't found
little pieces at the bottom of your sea, drowned
It's a struggle everyday to get by
yet as time passes, nanoseconds at a time
I remember less how great you felt,
how without you I though I'd die
And like every ****** and great addiction
I relapse, back into my rose coloured world of fiction
as much as I long to be clean, I guess I subconsciously
like it better when you're mean, ruthless
and equate me to dirt, as though I like it better
when it hurts
or else why, what keeps me falling back
with every unintentional relapse
and though I may not physically let you in
your venom that I crave seeps into my skin
that every time I acknowledge your existence
you win
Now, I know this isn't a game, win or lose
it's that dark, shadowed, familiar path I choose
because pain is always better shared between two
And, thus I'm back to rehab today
so that I might find a better way
to hold myself up and to myself say
It was never love,
just a drug induced hallucination
my chemical flooded brain caused adoration
and the constant feeling of fascination
that you're immune to it all
and it's my favorite addiction
but I can't last as a ******
cause this is real life, fact not fiction.
Jan 29, 2011
Jan 29, 2011 at 10:44 AM UTC
Nanoseconds streak naked like
rebellious starlight in spacetime
responding to no sentient's censure
striking hot the wired constellations
strung about my fingerless grip
they slip
retreating
eternal
into
The Void.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
I awoke this morning with all my
nanoseconds whizzing by—
spiraling, they broke for their exits,
they disarrayed my sky.
Each now and now and now
seemed a face, flash color,
many worlds. I could not sense
their place of start or stopping.
Morning sun peeped blue curtains.
I tried my usual breath, felt
heartbeat, wiggled foot.
My dog, he stretched
and bumped my bedframe
with his chest.
Against my fear I placed and pushed
messages of gratitude.
I thanked all things changing
and all of changing time.
Rather than elsewhere, I was here.
Instead of dead--
alive.
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
I once had it.
It was in my hand.
The moment I went to close my tattered fingers around it, to keep it in my grasp, they began to oxidize.
Not only was it as if the caretaker had forgotten to properly oil the cogs of the clock in the tower in the center of the town, he had also forgotten where he had hid the skeletal key.
The fingers began to crumble, what was once hovering within nanoseconds of my grasp had slipped eons away.
I once had it.
I let it go.
Go.
Go.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
I see the earth crumble
As I close my eyes
In the mirror
A hundred civilizations
Vanish in the literal blink of an eye
Tectonic plates sliding together
Forming volcanos in my pupils
I cry magma
Hot tears burning holes in my cardigan
Fully shut, I can hear the subtle sizzle
And untimely titanic "BOOM" of an imploding world
The flames burn through my lids
In incalculable nanoseconds
Somehow I can sense
The smoke
It feels
Like
Marijuana.
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 12:03 AM UTC
My life is in shambles
So time where are you?
I'm waiting upon your arrival with flowers
Neck deep in anticipation
They say
"Time kills all pain"
"Time cures the deepest of wounds"
So I wait. I tally the
Nanoseconds, the minutes, the days.
Submerged beneath a huge mass of sentiments
I can't reach the surface
Time I need you.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
The frail nature of the soul
makes for confused company,
especially in
a world of moving fingertips
clicking precious-time away.
Passions run deep &
our minds travel
in nanoseconds,
we grasp glimpses
of each others worlds
on the dark side of the moon.
Yet, we still remain
a million miles away,
trapped in cyberspace,
endlessly flowing.
We forget
the contact,
the touch of our lips,
those loving-arms
embraced around our hearts,
human reactions,
only to remember
genuine frustration,
continual loneliness
& isolation.
Seems forever we look
for super nova,
remaining hardwired,
inspired.
And hopefully,
we never lose
faith,
hope or love
traveling like this,
missing kisses.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 4:43 AM UTC
Pockets of air that pop into existence
Nanoseconds turn into centuries
We pop again, alone always, out of reality
The cycle repeats and we turn into particles
That join with the rest of the galaxy
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
A cacophony of wasted space in a mind too full to see
boring holes to breathe or vent
or pray that there is no light to be let in
Was never done dying before yesterday moved
tomorrow is last year a lifetime ago
today, erased by was and will
Tears can't dry in incessant floods
bleeding acid that feeds unhealing wounds
in a mix of steroids and parasites
Faced with all that perception ever was
altered reality in crushed emotion
scraping the dregs of feeling to find a place to sleep
Jagged shards of memories offer the most comfort
as they slice what attempted to heal
killing me slowly anew with each passing moment
Moments torn in a million pieces of equal pain
encased in cemented ideals and rosy falsehoods
yesterday is the only reality left
Outside a clenched fist holding onto nothing
blood crusts in black paint
open or closed, there's nothing left to see
Longing to bleed out through the ****** of dreams
left to die in a place that packs holes with dirt
enough to exist in an invisible life
Killing the long ago before it finishes what it started
seems its own nightmare of weakness
will it alive or will it dead, just will something and make it so
A lifetime of dying in a half-life of truth
gray eats black as anguish feeds on beauty
nothing remains in untouched memories
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 5:01 PM UTC
Skin flaking away to shreds
Breathing a fresh whiff of mockery your way, my way,
Shrouding their compliments and
My pride that turned stale
As they were uttered.
Alphabets
Lisping out of my mouth
Numbers
Trickling out of my mind
(Not a hospitable host,
This existence of mine, they recount.)
Fears & dreams
Going into comatose.
Clock-hands pointing at me,
At the stroke of wakeful realization
Like arrows, yanking out and
Darting past me, in all directions
On a time-bound mission.
Sounds, gone out of tune inside of me
Screeching out of my ears
Favourite colors, smells, sights
Now driving me nauseous
A choking cough that echoes
(Was it not supposed to stifle it, like in movies?)
Of all of these
Crashing at me,
Trying to weave again
That familiar path on that train
That leads to the crossroads of that maze
Of self- destructiveness
That I seemed destined for,
No matter where I'd exit from.
("The exit is only a dead-end!", a fleeting voice quivers)
As I stagger under weightlessness
While familiarity squints into a blur
and
Alienation burrows a happy home
Mute stares from my end lasting three nanoseconds
Angry for they still don't get it
Thrilled, breathing a sigh of relief.
For I get it, lest I should forget it,
This, where I had arrived.
Or
Was I inhaling stagnant complacency
Slipping into the reprieve of familiarity again,
Of accursed i-dent-ity
Wait. Am I getting familiar with myself?
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 11:37 PM UTC
your body
my body
together
apart
they remember
they recognize
each other
register sensations
exchange molecular information
receptors and synapses clicking
data processed in nanoseconds
output:
you are the one I love
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 7:58 PM UTC
We're all here making special appearances
For nanoseconds in this eternity of existence
Messing folks up by being ourselves,
Getting messed up because people are being themselves,
Being human.
Judging people,
Getting judged by people.
Falling prey to our mind's trick or treat
Over and over again
We know how we're wired.
We can see the victim in the criminal.
But we choose to blame, judge and accuse,
Soaking in vengeful relief
Till someone does the same with us
And we spiral into societal suicide.
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 7:39 AM UTC
Millenia a moment
wishes on all the starfish in the ocean
wouldn't make Wilcox happy in love
Indivisible divisions
infinite wisdom where math and science
will never meet God
Did science create a universe or simply define it?
Where beginning meets end in pinpoints of minutia
that by definition and design will never actually meet
Cradle me in your arms for nanoseconds
each holding an eternity
If only time could be held by more than mere memory
Maybe, everything until the now that is never the now
can touch a moment
that can never be broken into its smallest parts
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
I opened the shutters and light eventually claimed
the perfection covered by my blanket. Dozing off
like it wasn't past eight and he had work
to do.
Last night was beautiful. It seemed like we were the after-effect
of a writer’s figment of imagination. No existing words
could ever describe and give justice as to how graceful and
stunning we were.
He held my hands – filling up the spaces that once stood
alone (but now never again). He touched the small of
my back and danced with me in the moon lit veranda with
only candles to witness us both.
His neck radiated of fresh soap and mint. His breath of
chocolate-covered strawberries we have shared fifteen minutes
ago. His soft, delicate hands tracing the non-existent contour
of my waist.
We swayed along Muse and Switch foot. As the last seconds
of our last song neared, he took me in his arms, and
put my lips against his. No one to see, no one to judge, no one
to ever write of.
Time flew so fast, yet so slow. Seconds turned into minutes,
minutes turned into hours, hours turned into centuries, and
after all my infinite nanoseconds, we were back under my covers
giggling like 5 year-olds, as love-stricken back in 2002.
And seeing his eyelids flutter now, I wonder if you are
ever going to leave again. Leave me back in my slumber, with no
deep brown eyes to wake up to. And without you, no one’s going to
empty my aftershave or tie up my necktie anymore.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 1:13 AM UTC
the N.S.A. is my friend,
the N.S.A. is my friend,
the N.S.A. is my friend,
detention lasts an hour,
how many times do you think
i'd write the statement?
this is before the dark-web,
before Contraband Anonymous,
oh hell, i can write you Orwell's
1984 in nanoseconds,
about how you should drink and not
ingest hallucinatory drugs,
not least the pharmacist quotient
available...
but prior to... hmm... the N.S.A. is
still my friend, they have the conversations
of the culprits, and Tsar Putin jacking
off to the sound of Apollo 13's mission failure...
and have i the ***** to say it?
i think i do.... unless a Martian descends,
or Jupiter encrusts into a ball of hot
cranium of fire, then we're left with Pluto being
the penultimate ice-ball before
the thing that killed the dinosaurs comes
along in hookah Kiwi haka style
for a fantasia of the Parisian catwalk...
chew wee a mega fibia, aye Scotch,
aye Ben Nervous - mega choo backpacker
and mm, hoo see the Nedtherlands!
and then we all get to nibble on our excited-lower-lip
the French revolved around to hark:
oriental in Romanian: h = r = haaark!
agling to a gagging too.
poetry - you make sounds, you don't
intend to make sense... it's your *******
tongue as a trumpet... what else?!
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
I saw her posting pictures of you two together today,
I don't know what happened to me after that
I could feel it, in my stomach, in my chest
I don't know what it was
Was it jealousy? Was it rage?
A series of questions are torturing my brain now
Why her? Why not me?
Am I not pretty than her?
Am I not beautiful than her?
Am I not girl enough?
I surely don't know how to curl my lashes
I don't know how to fix my eyebrows
Can't walk on heels, Can't put on makeup
Never wore a skirt, never even an earring
But I know what makes you smile,
You like to get drunk on *****
And sing Ed Shereen
You like to dance like crazy
You call it your "drunk dance"
Your eyes become wet when you yawn
And You don't like the freckles on your shoulder
You like pizza, But won't eat it
I don't wanna get fat you say
You have your way of kissing too
My style you call it,
when our tongues touch just for nanoseconds
And you pull yourself away
You like it when I give you a hickie
You'll check in the mirror if it is blue enough
You like running your fingers down my spine
"I love your curves", you tell me
"Your skin is so soft and you smell so pure"
You like sharing your toothbrush
You like hiding my clothes
You like closing your eyes and expecting me to kiss you
And when I don't , I can see the cute disappointment in your smile
You like chocolates 200%
You like gifts like a girl
Birthdays excite you like a child
And you can't watch a horror movie at night
Are these all phony?
The things you said to me, the things we did together
If so, you are quite an actor
And if I could, I would nominate you for an award
An award for the best teller of the untruths.....
That's what you are, a LIAR
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC
It's over
No more distractions
Curtain's closure
Save your reactions
Not sober
Justified actions
Come closer
We are a fraction
Love, listen to the earth
Speaking to my eyes
Entering the web
Shove me into a curb
Leave me where I lie
Watch the car flip
Gas leaks
Shards of glass afloat
God speaks
The words my father wrote
Our arms weak
Heads in the radio
Your fingers creak
Blood in the raincoat
Soft, unspoken eyelash
Staring into the sun
Kissing thunderclouds
Dogs barking in the rain
At people they don't know
Echoes on my radio
Cough up my keys again
I can not understand
Why this feels unreal
Hogs passing my remains
It plays on over again
Bodies unconcealed.
(It's over)
(It's over)...
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 5:53 PM UTC
Twisted-life symphony
It seems so real
Brimstone meet misery
Balancing on oily steel
so glad you're not me
Namaste metal thunder
I have to leave you
vacant online junkies today
with your video eyes
and your mouths gasping
playing your games
Namaste reefer-headed rag dolls
You'll read a couple from Chechov
Admire the lines of Baryshnikov,
oil your friendly little Kalashnikov
under satellites and stations and junk
Namaste deaf, dumb and blind nighttime sky
You wasted your days with excuses
you played on your DSes
til they faded away like UFOs
carrying your doughyness
down, down
Namaste Friday night parking lot hometown
How large is the rock
Stopping my float
My rotten boat's making a
last trip from the dock
Promising ice-cold dark caresses
Namaste cold, crushing depths
How long is the rope
snaps my neck
So much loss of hope
in the blink of an eye
a bloated blue ornament
Namaste choking collar
Plug in now, oh wow!
Gigabytes in nanoseconds
Gigabods in nanomoments
Gigaflights in nanospans
What's a moth's life
Weigh dominion
Namaste my sweeter side
Why don't you join?
Are you scared of freedom?
Just flip this cosmic coin
Just a game, it's just a game
Filled with pain and ecstasy
Namaste en garde, sil vous plait
I think I might just play
lose without trying
play a freewheeling style
Nothing really matters
I'll come back hereafter
Namaste, hasta la vista
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 6:57 PM UTC
By the handful the liquid appears colorless
But a quick glance across the rippled surface convinces you it is blue
Cold water surrounds me as I descend
Gazing upwards as I take my seat on the floor
People seem to be flying, a butterfly, though it isn’t true
I know about buoyancy, I know they are merely supported by the water
As long as they keep pushing their way through, they’ll move
The waves on the surface distort my vision
More than I originally thought
The light moves more slowly through the water
Granted I can’t perceive the lag
That little kid running along the pool deck
The action happening maybe nanoseconds, probably smaller
Before I was able to begin perceiving it
With the same idea
I could look into the sky tonight and pick a star
It may very well have died, a fiery hell or a disappointing fizzle
Millions of years ago.
My lungs ache
I push off the floor, relief when my head breaks the surface
Gasping
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 3:04 PM UTC
Perturbing looks lock
Seconds could be years I wish
But are nanoseconds.
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
*Time is relative.
It can yell. It can scream.
But it can't run backwards.*
It takes 8 minutes for the light from the sun to reach the earth,
And hundreds of thousands of this exact timeframe
for the sun's inexistent sound to permeate in permanence.
A solar explosion would annihilate the human force.
Everything we know would sublimate into a vacuumed space.
All knowledge of everything,
Vanished in a fiery apocalypse.
Death would arrive before it even happens.
So what is the purpose of life if death could already be here,
Eight minutes from this moment?
The time it takes to boil noodles,
Take a shower,
Eat a bowl of cereal,
Could be the last spoken,
Thought,
Performed part of everything.
How should I believe time is real,
Death is cheated,
God is listening,
When this minute could be my eighth?
I swing my chainless pocket watch and count each of my five hundred seconds.
And wonder if it would be simpler to exist where time doesn't.
But each child climbs higher on the playground's jungle gym,
Reaching for doctorates and dissertations,
Their watches not as precisely examined as my own.
No worry of things that are all too possible
In just a matter of time-
School shootings,
Asteroid strikes,
Uncontrollable plagues-
While my watch counts nanoseconds as it falls onto Earth's surface,
Their watches spin rampantly,
Drilling into their sandboxes.
I see this,
The same age I was years before,
And these children melt into wheel chairs and death beds alike,
Their children mourning their passing,
While their children's children,
Crippled with tears,
Hold the hands of their parents in desperation
for an agony so ripping.
And all the while I see the sun exhale its time.
The trees ignite,
the sidewalks smelt with the burning grass and buildings.
And just as I peer into the beyond,
My rusting pocket watch clinks with the sanded surface of this childhood play box.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
She's ghost-bound
Dead,
Counting silent breath
On airwaves--
And oaken elephants--
Weather through
The distillation
Of time-
We're time-travelling
Whispers; nanoseconds
Catching spores,
Spelling--
She's mine-
My only one.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 9:51 PM UTC
I am on a date in this vast lake,
Every breath a kiss that lingers on my lips and lifts my lungs,
The weight of our time crashes into my hips,
The only positions I a familiar to,
Are butterflies and front crawl,
Laying my back,
The water surrounds me,
Pushing forwards,
Trying to break through.
I mount my block,
prepare to leap,
Spring forth,
Diving into the deep,
Water rushes in surrounding,
These moaning pleas for wind.
Sweat diluted in ecstasy,
Nanoseconds my eternity,
Adrenaline coursing through me,
I claw the crystal skin resting calmly,
A surface,
This is me breaking free.
Practices are my dates,
Water is my lover,
Technique our passion,
Winning my partner.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 11:07 PM UTC
The crazy world moves in nanoseconds,
mountains, terabytes of nonsense
move at supersonic speeds
along the info-highway,
traded between
infinite faceless entities.
What of our raw emotions,
those fleshly feelings,
the electrical synapses’
causing such great commotion,
stirring the wildest imaginations!
And who really reads philosophy anymore,
what person respects the words of a poet
when it seems to be all about the net these days?
For after all, everything you read there
is surely the gospel-awful-truth,
such total madness
exploded into a billion+ clusters,
cataloged into whatever floats
our boats.
It seems the real world is sinking
into advanced technologies,
synthetic pied pipers ply us
with their artificial intelligence,
humming dangerous notes that taste metallic,
with everything made somewhere else.
O human-kind,
my kindred,
please tell me,
where are the true artisans,
where are the keepers of the authentic minds,
where are the hopeless romantics with beating hearts?
Where are they?
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
Sheer exhaustion
was my companion last night,
knocked me right out,
pulled my eyelids shut
in nanoseconds.
So deep I fell,
not one dream
entered my mind,
only the sound of silence,
a cousin to rest.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC