"neutralizing" poems
Feels my pain
On a rainy day
Speaking winds
Where have you been?
Travel unseen
Breaking through
My heart fights
My brain wont give up
My clouds full of water
Commence to pour tear drops
Cleansing life resurrecting hope
Attacking in millions
Feeding mother earth
Trees, plants, animals
Covering my tearz
Thoughts begin to clear
Water strikes my skin
Neutralizing ice cold
My soul comforts to unfold
My sky My cry Never lie
People avoid my pouring rain
Shutting down closing doors
While I soar ready to explore
My skies transform heavy grey
Hoping it can last and forever stay...
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 4:16 AM UTC
*How you comprehended my myriad a murmur
My mind can barely understand even with a hammer
Hard hit on my head
I a diaper-wetting toddler nestled in the warm bed
Of your comforting arms
You, in constant vigil feeding me honey-sweet plums
Singing me lullabies in your soft mellow voice
Your seemingly palpable heart always in a state of rejoice
Kindness well-articulated on your visage
Your demeanor that of a revered sage.
Your unmatched audacity to defy odds
Neutralizing all prods
Initiated by inconveniencing circumstance
A goddess of stern indefatigability, your experience in life expanse.*
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 4:32 AM UTC
the world is a dryer.
if there is a washing machine section within our universe, I am unaware of it.
I don't work that rotation. I work the dry shift.
tumble low heat, fluff, repeat.
repeat.
in almost every dryer known to mankind, some contraption serves as the lint trap. collect all of the lint and excess laundry fluff as it goes through the dry cycle.
in this world, in this universe; if the human race consists of the articles of clothing in the dryer, I am the lint trap.
it sounds almost cutesy when phrased like that. dryer lint is fluffy and soft and the combination of all the different fibers of the various clothing.
I'm the trap, though. the filter.
I must absorb and filter the excess fiber from every article of clothing. if the entire human race is in this dry cycle; I absorb and filter their raveling ends.
it's ******* exhausting.
here's a better analogy. have you ever had your stomach pumped?
they handle this differently now, but when the doctors, nurses, and staff working in the ER would get a patient who swallowed an entire bottle of ****** with a ***** chaser; or a new mother's young son swallowing her bottle of sertaline, they would get to work. one hand activated charcoal, the other hand with a large suction tube.
activated charcoal is what neutralizes the bottle of ****** or the bottle of Zoloft. the charcoal can absorb **** near anything. it pulls out stains and poisons, neutralizing and absorbing.
this is where the tube comes in. the charcoal is harmless on its own, but the ER staff is in a hurry to console (get rid of) the screaming mother; to move the seventeen year old girl with the ****** ***** chaser to the psychiatric unit, and continue their night.
insert the long tube to suction the charcoal out of the stomachs of the two children. this is often haphazardly shoved down the back of the throat, down the esophagus, reaching the stomach. flip the switch, undo what peristalsis cannot. it's not pleasant. gagging, rough, foul, I've been told.
the body is working in reverse order. vomiting may be easier. the suction tube is fighting the natural flow of the body. the esophagus is attempting to push everything down down down, and the tube is fighting back.
I am the activated charcoal found in every ER across the globe. I absorb the poisons that human beings put into their bodies.
I can pass someone on the street, and my activated charcoal soul absorbs the negativity, the poison, the hatred, the emotional chaos from that individual.
I often wonder if the person feels lighter, noting the absence of the venom that once crippled them. I never ask. I just keep my gaze down and ignore the tempest ensnared within my activated charcoal lint trap.
there are others like me. activated charcoal hearts, lint trap souls.
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 3:28 PM UTC
After he died
Without warning,
I planted a tree
Announcing
Just as suddenly
The Serviceberry
To the others
In the garden
Each bud of a branch
welcomed by the fresh earth
And dormant bulbs yet to burst
The Aspen as role model
Hastily, deeply
she was added
As quickly as he left
In pursuit of
Recouping buoyancy after starving for oxygen.
Consoling under her generous shade
Begging for silence of sufferings and
deep sorrows
Three years have passed
Has it been that long
There they are,
our memories,
in the control room
That cling, stab like a blade
Taking over the clock
A contagion of disorder
That eats away
like acid
Explicitly unwanted
Clarity of that night
Frozen in time,
like the winter
it happened.
Time ended without warning
Deaths metronome gave birth.
Uneven disbursement
Over one thousand days
Since
Asking why,
Why?
Why!
Prone and exhausted.
Drowned in tears that forged
A lake of salt
Why then
Do we not float?
What's holding us up?
And another thing,
Where does the wind
Go when its gone?
It dispatches
without warning
Whirling in circles,
Catching conditions
Why am I
not so
shaken then?
The Serviceberry has yet
To bare fruit in its
Short life to fifty
Holding steady,
Enduring the rooting road
In the pragmatic ground
Surrounded by leaves from seasons
As messengers of compassion, companionship
At the foot of her trunk
An offering
Once again in winter, here we are
Sleeping until the sun
Bleeds more time
Why does three years
Feel so heavy and capricious
As if it were just yesterday
Will the depth of sorrow remain
After she blooms and feeds
The hungry birds,
Over 35 species,
Who love her nectar
Caring for the offspring
Obscure, neglected and hungry
Giving back, keeping the healed
From further storms of
Sudden causes
As he did for his flock
Harbored in what the doctor
Ordered.
Tender
Loving
Care
Will heartache be replaced
By forgiveness?
Like the passing bus
That descends the hill
Into a valley of green hearts
Picking up new passengers
Loving another
Forgetting the importance
Of yesterdays bus ticket that
Flew out the window
Arriving without intention
To its destination
Neutralizing the anger
That came without warning
Glancing out the window
Towards tomorrow
As the birds songs
Are sung
Dec 28, 2023
Dec 28, 2023 at 2:16 PM UTC
the desperado cowboy-poet awakes
anxious, needing-ending relief,
the craving greater than great,
he begs-raggedly, with Raggedy handily Andy words,
to all and anyone in the aroused surrounded vicinity,
give please give, of something to write
the bay, soothingly plays the would-be author,
"place me, look my way,
have I not droplets endless
from which you've drunk exquisitely,
so many more to fair share"
the birds twit and flit,
raucous caucus demanding
to be seated
by the tablet's keypad
to gain entry
to one more congressional natural tribute
the sky and sun organize a
joint session, extraordinary mission;
"we are the first of your day,
thus primarily,
we win the primary,
deserving in your recording of our
nomination as the first day's
sound and light show victorious"
sorry folks,
got a better tale to tell,
natural in its way,
titillating, and quite suitable
for reputating Au Naturel humanity
and it's a quirky, say hey tale,
morning coffee fresh,
a first word report from an
untelivised convention
of a different kind of congressing
awoke to find the:
*chauffeur in bed with the cook,
the Poppy, beside the sleeping Nana,
the poet, eyeing the lying next to him, tango dancer,
the classicist eyeing the sleeping moderne,
ditty ditsy Ogden Nash astride a Shakesperian sonnet,
the thinning gray line defending his bedded half,
from an invading horde of unionizing blonde tresses,
the republican with the democrat,
the conservative with the liberal,
heated discussions, non-neutralizing negotiations
conducting and watched by
peeping tom skies, clouds, birds and waters
pretending to fly flow past*
wow
now that,
is quite interesting
deserving worthy of a
disrobing disputatious disreputation,
very newsworthy and why not,
a poem all its own?
the bay waved goodbye,
the birds disbanded in silence,
quietly disenfranchised.
the sun and the sky hung around
pretending to be UN neutrality observers
wearing cute blue and white helmets
looking every where but not,
at the line of demarcation
the beggar, by his new impoverishment, enriched,
another love poem writ,
niched and pitched
one more itch,
so very well scratched
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 8:23 AM UTC
i slipped inside an atom to see what i was made of,
and i saw you there too.
hanging out with molecules,
we created as we went.
our dna collided,
neutralizing all that was,
evolving into something else.
we realized it was still us, and that
change was the essence of our creativity.
We stopped holding on,
and flew freely through every dimension.
and when we were done,
i went inside.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
The moon in the sky, is the home of father time
and the sun is where mother nature is confined
she sleeps while he shines
when she's awake, he hides
He floats in the night like a bird of prey
peering through the trees to the ground to watch the mice play
giving light to us human-beings that stay up this late
to see the beauty that darkness creates
She rises up from the horizon like a spotlight
shining fuel onto every inch of life
neutralizing the temperature, setting the equilibrium right
just as us humans used wind to fly kites
the love letters from the sun to the moon take flight
every once in a while their paths will cross
and here on earth our light is barely lost
enough to illuminate the two lovers as they take their clothes off
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Upon singed wings I flew
Out of a blackened sky
Into a world brand new
Sailing on healing wings.
Viewing eternal through
Filters of life and spirit--
A somewhat darker hue
Compared to what's in store!
This light filled my eyes
As it gently blinded me--
Burned off thick scales of lies
As I began to clearly see
We are spirit's with bodies
Not the other way around--
Subject to carnal folly
Diseases of pleasure & pain.
Perception gauging flow
In mind's clockwork askew,
Neutralizing eternal spiritual
Validating only temporal.
Sep 9, 2024
Sep 9, 2024 at 11:12 AM UTC
it bothers me that
arpeggiated piano
still incites in me
[saudade(for you)] on
these empty evenings;
and it bothers me that
this silly irish girl
feels the same way
i do, and that your
sister shares a name
rooted in gaelic, just
like her; and now i
might be grasping
at straws, but never
have i told a bigger
truth than when i
say i find the most
arbitrary ways to
remind myself of
you, or accurately,
the lacking thereof.
and it bothers me that
the only seeming cure
is to purge (myself) of
you with [ballads sung
by sobbing ivory keys],
like [baking soda] to a
(bee sting), drawing
out the venom drops
of your last acidic kisses,
and neutralizing them
in the stark alkalinity
of these spare words,
little more than dimes
dropped into the tin
cup or upturned hat
of the beggar i have
become.
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 8:13 PM UTC
After wandering into a field I had fantasized all my basic life
I waded into fading pH pools
Looking through a flower, I fleetingly saw you
Trapped between petals and figments, peering back at me
Caught off guard and slipping into the arena of my past
I wished, I remembered, and then I corroded
With a neutralizing epiphany,
I realized you were content to stay.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
This amazing architecture of allure; awe-some
to behold , from beneath bed upon beautiful bed
of clouds, cotton-white, concrete-gray and crow-black,
this dangerous density diligently damning my dainty
existence; ever eliciting earnest
and fevered fallacies of false pride to be fatally felled by
this gigantic gale-mother, these gods of galactic proportions.
Hold me, as I help myself hallucinate about heaven in hell,
Innately inundating my lost innocence with it.
Joyously joining in jovially joking about our jubilation in,
Killing our Kudis and our Khaleesis in keeping with,
Our love of labeling lust as love and losing ourselves to,
Mankind's madness for maleficence. We manipulate
our naive needs into necessities, neutralizing all notions
Of obscenity, Obese in our omissions.
Petulantly, we punish any probability of penance or pity.
We will soon quiver and quake, while quail will fly in this beautiful quag,
Resting reluctantly and resisting the requiem of the realm,
That holds a sad semblance of the sky's seas.
Traveler, your traveling is less than trash if you haven't traced
This ubiquitous umbrella; untouched and untainted
By the viscous vice that voraciously vitiates the viscera.
Wait, weary world look up to the place that no words can describe,
To the heavenly xystus that acts as a xylophonic xylem to our xerical and xeroxed dreams.
Yearn traveler yearn, for your eyes to look yonder forever,
To feel the zigzagging zephyrs that witnessed every zenith of history, from Zoas to Zebras.
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 2:50 AM UTC
There is comfort with you, the softness of you, hair, eyes, smile, hands, counteract my hard edges. Neutralizing. My acidity becomes neutral as you trace the angels of the spine and hip bones. Our chemistry creating the ultimate balance. Locking eyes ignites chemicals below the stomach bubbling in my throat and chest. Soft lines of fingers, juxtaposed against my fumbling appendages. The quiet of your voice colliding with the raucousness of my own. The basic collision of differences creating the uncontrollable, but inevitable reaction. But within the difference lies the similarity, the melody of voices vocalizing literature. The magnetic pull compelling our bodies to become one. The warmth of flawed bodies tangled together in a twin bed. The resentfulness towards hatred and hypocrisy, the inclination towards love and understanding. The creation of something inexplicable, something unknown, unexpected, something that has redefined beauty.
Sep 15, 2010
Sep 15, 2010 at 11:09 AM UTC
* My disease can shock and offend , pull a rotten apple from the tree of life itself , a black hole neutralizing star light , an unheard cry in the middle of night . Gifted hands tied by the poisonous vine of censorship , melancholy days , a wind racked ship set adrift . A tiny wisp of flame in the path of a storm , unsettling voices from sources unknown . The riddle of two clenched fist , one holding a diamond . A motherless son with no one to guide him . Drugs that manage hopelessness , ripe berries surrounded by brambles , dark days to oneself , seedling drowned in a glass of water . *
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
*Allowing one’s thoughts to go haywire
To traverse the perverse
Odd and uneven terrain of perception
Neutralizing the amorphous tidbits of "migrainous" quandaries
Coalescing into mind boggling quagmires
Underscores the need to appreciate the wonderment that’s reverie.
The need to take some time to ruminate blindly over anything and everything fanciful.
To laugh even smile at one’s own grandiose deductions
That’ll never achieve the high threshold of logic.
This indeed does crystallize in distinct perspective
The wondrous phenomenon that’s daydreaming.*
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 4:34 AM UTC
Trivial things
That make heartbeats sting
That break emotional barriers
And open pathways
To the one who holds
You by her hand
And makes living this life
Fun and exciting
Small things
That create meaningful impacts
That reveal what is hidden
That symbolize affections
Neutralizing negativity
And showing real sincerity
In front of the girl
That turns your world around
Beautiful things
That represent the sweet
Yet thorny twists
Of what real love is
And that through the thicks
And through the thins of life
Total Love and Devotion
Defies all odds and obstacles
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 6:47 AM UTC
Language can be used to unify
representing our cultural groupings
of religion,
caste,
region
Language is power,
the power to name
It is the most potent instrument of culture
Language is sweet tongued
riddles in speech
beautifully balanced rhythm
in original language
A widespread...language game
A game with hidden rules:
indigenous structures and rhythms
referring by analogy to something else
with hidden meanings which must be searched for
Take our language away and
We have fallen apart
A foreign tongue will send tremors of fear into every heart
“Oh Lord, save Thy people”
The great Evil has come:
Language of the small and elite
the petty-bourgeoisie readership
It has established a kind of presence
It has created its own momentum.
It doesn’t go anywhere.
There’s nothing you can do with it to make it sing.
It’s heavy. It’s wooden.
A strategy of language manipulation
The darkness drops again
Translation is a battleground,
mere anarchy loosened upon the world
The neutralizing alternative
interlanguage,
mimicking
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun
Take our language and our center cannot hold
Things fall apart.
Or construct the lens through which understanding takes place:
What is it in your dialect?
The result is incredible.
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
There are scars opening
Ones I knew were still there
Though the love kept blossoming
And my immunity was holding up.
Though now these scars are bubbling up,
The blood beneath the skin is acting up.
It's ready to be cleansed.
And I feel high now still, and
Below, on lower limbs I feel
The air touching my skin.
I feel breezes of time
Opening. Portals being defined
And this time, I see.
This time around I can see fine
Clearly aware of the cycles repeat.
The rebirth of lessons missed.
Deep explorations of my depths.
This time I trust me.
Then I had yet to see.
Then the basics had to be
Founded.
The base was weak.
The little girl me was hurt early.
Early captures of my vulnerability.
Fear implanted then.
Here is where by breakthrough began
At the edge of free.
Lessons to learn in the sand, in the dirt.
In the breakdown of life.
As the death is settled in,
These truths I stand in.
Balance of fear and love.
Habits still to be shut,
Neural paths to be re-spun.
Neutrons path to be felt.
Neutralizing these low vibing memories,
The ones that I alone live through.
Tearing open these scars,
Clean the blood. Rinse generational
Wounds of appendages and organs
And hearts. Cleanse us.
Bring the healing energy down.
Mend the scars. Create new
Warrior Marks.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 5:23 PM UTC
The day has arrived.
The cold wind whistle, the land is bare and everything feels contrived.
A girl broken, fragile as a leaf in fall.
Damaged but promised.
Borded and no place to go.
Lonely, defeated and feeling so low.
The clouds are telling a similar story.
Laying out a laundry list of woes.
The air is rich and fragrant.
A crooked little smile on her face.
She can't help herself as the sun fills her with grace.
Venturing out for the first time.
Load music, beautiful people everywhere.
Surrounded by all her partners in crime.
Spinning, dancing with laughter completely unaware.
He's at least 10 years younger.
An unusual flutter.
So beautiful, so strong and hard
He wants her but her bodyguards say no.
But she follows her heart.
Anticipation almost parelizing.
That first touch neutralizing.
Fast and furious, slow passionate.
Completely off the charts.
Behind doors and on roof tops.
Everywhere anytime, non stop.
Her innocent excitement increases.
A new cocktail of chemicals releases.
Lust, sweet delectable lust.
So happy and content
New attitude, a new her
Forever remembered
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
It's clear that I have lost friends
That's what fire in your soul and the resulting fearlessness brings
I don't have a lot of intelligent open minded people rifling through my works or giving them the attending or attention they deserve. They might overlook the irony sarcasm, wit or inherent fairness that is so carefully crafted into endless themes. Sometimes a social leveler, others a defensive maneuver of a wounded animal or all out aggressive neutralizing campaign. Regardless, I never wrote for any of them, I wrote for me.
They were just lucky I let them see.
- The SS
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 7:39 PM UTC
The love of my life runs through my veins
It can't be a lie that makes me feel safe
All the jewels of emotions come into the phrase
Neutralizing stabilised thoughts for a place
Concluding I hope to get my precious gains
The Brain and Heart are my soul locators
Giving me purpose to live and aware
Following into happiness of my favorite sphere
Inside the self loving treatment of geared individuals
I dig into my thoughts of shallow waters
Growling into the fact of curious matter
I am no more the master to my beloved grandeur
I lost hope into the Truth of love for my serious self desire.
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 6:57 AM UTC