"otherwise" poems
if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don’t even start.
if you’re going to try, go all the
way. this could mean losing girlfriends,
wives, relatives, jobs and
maybe your mind.
go all the way.
it could mean not eating for 3 or
4 days.
it could mean freezing on a
park bench.
it could mean jail,
it could mean derision,
mockery,
isolation.
isolation is the gift,
all the others are a test of your
endurance, of
how much you really want to
do it.
and you’ll do it
despite rejection and the
worst odds
and it will be better than
anything else
you can imagine.
if you’re going to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like
that.
you will be alone with the
gods
and the nights will flame with
fire.
do it, do it, do it.
do it.
all the way
all the way.
you will ride life straight to
perfect laughter,
it’s the only good fight
there is.
207.6k
some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; its stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be mony and ****** and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.
94k
Idly stationed in the bucolic hills,
sits a stone well; unknown when abandoned.
Though her people foregone, water yet fills
as much as you can want for. In tandem,
are high trees less old than she; occluding
the view from pathless and naive strangers.
As their wish in well is to keep obtuse,
those that siren would otherwise capture.
Her drink, one thinks they'll constantly receive.
In reality, they'll only be taken.
Youth will fade as the heart minutely bleeds.
Their hollow, dried corpse will be forsaken.
And though her hole but a tall dark crevice,
I see my reflection on the surface.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 4:16 PM UTC
Terrifying are the attent sleek thrushes on the lawn,
More coiled steel than living - a poised
Dark deadly eye, those delicate legs
Triggered to stirrings beyond sense - with a start, a bounce,
a stab
Overtake the instant and drag out some writhing thing.
No indolent procrastinations and no yawning states,
No sighs or head-scratchings. Nothing but bounce and stab
And a ravening second.
Is it their single-mind-sized skulls, or a trained
Body, or genius, or a nestful of brats
Gives their days this bullet and automatic
Purpose? Mozart's brain had it, and the shark's mouth
That hungers down the blood-smell even to a leak of its own
Side and devouring of itself: efficiency which
Strikes too streamlined for any doubt to pluck at it
Or obstruction deflect.
With a man it is otherwise. Heroisms on horseback,
Outstripping his desk-diary at a broad desk,
Carving at a tiny ivory ornament
For years: his act worships itself - while for him,
Though he bends to be blent in the prayer, how loud and
above what
Furious spaces of fire do the distracting devils
**** and hosannah, under what wilderness
Of black silent waters weep.
41.2k
I don’t need to know you personally to know that you are actually worth something. You are worth more than you think. Why do you feel the need to believe your own lies? You need to believe that you are worth it and you need to believe that you will get through this, the more you tell yourself that you aren’t worth it, you will start to feel like you’re not worth anything when the truth is you are worth everything. I understand that sometimes, the ones who surround you can make you feel like a worthless piece of **** they can make you feel like nothing. Simply because it always seems like no one cares about you, but I care about you, your family care about you, your followers care about you, your friends care about you. Sure, sometimes their actions seem to prove otherwise, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t care. Why would you let someone down grade you to something that you are not? Why would you let yourself fall for other peoples lies? You see all those people trying to make you feel like crap? Well you are above them and you should know that by now, simply because you do not feel the need to put someone down in order to make yourself feel better. Don’t you ever let an ex of yours, feel like you aren’t worth anything. Why give someone the power to control your life? To control what you do and how you feel? This is your life and you need to live it how you want to. This is your life and you need to realise that you are here for a reason. You don’t need someone to come along, to make you feel like you are worth something. You don’t need someone telling that you are worth it. Because you have always been worth it, whether you choose to believe it or not, is entirely up to you. Don’t let someone shape the way that you live and think. Don’t live in fear of never being good enough. The people around you see something special about you and now, it’s time for you. To see it within yourself. You’re worth it, see it. Believe it. Because its the truth and one day you are going to have to accept that fact.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 10:48 AM UTC
There once was a young man named Feste, and he was not a very good young man.
He was a thief, and a sneaky one at that. He would go to all of the stores in the market and steal anything that he pleased.
He loved to steal from the baker and the butcher especially.
He would go to his hiding place in the forest after his deviousness and eat away his stolen treasures, brooding on what a “clever little boy” he was.
The baker and the butcher knew though. They noticed him coming in most days and leaving in quite a hurry. They could not actually catch him in the act, but they knew beyond a doubt what he was doing. They were having drinks together one night though when they devised a clever scheme to stop him from stealing ever again. The butcher carved up a juicy ham, and the baker baked up a delicious pie, but they added a little something extra to it…
The butcher made sure to quite a bit of alcohol into the ham, and the baker did the same with his pie. They both set their two traps in the store, right when the spoiled thief Feste came strolling into the market with his eyes gleaming.
The baker watched him walk into his shop,the pie disappeared.
The butcher watched him walk into his shop, the ham disappeared.
They both smiled and went about their work.
Feste rushed to his hiding place and devoured his stolen goodies so fast that he didn’t even realize how peculiar it seemed to taste...
Not long after, he started to feel strange. Numb and stupid. He ran towards the village, acting a buffoon. The villagers stared and laughed at Feste acting so odd. His mother found him though and brought down the fury.
“Feste! Why are you acting like a **** fool?" She demanded.
He threw out a few words in a drunken stupor and swayed in place.
"Wait.. have you been drinking!?” She screamed.
“Noe maum! Allll Ie had todae is pie and haam!” He stammered in a drunken sway.
“And where exactly did you get those!?” She inquired.
Feste had a look of terror on his face and grew silent.
He was found out to be the no good thief and was punished severely, because his mother thought he stole the alcohol as well as the pie and ham, and he couldn’t prove otherwise.
Feste never stole again and he even apologized to the butcher and baker, though they still do have a laugh now and then…
The End
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 7:03 PM UTC
Lies are lies
they deny you the truth.
Truth is truth
it denies you the lie.
when examined closely both are exactly the same.
They are interchangeable.
People that tell the "truth" to you are denying you lies.
How boring and dangerous and malevolent are people full of truth.
Choose your religious truth---
Christian truth.
Islamic truth.
Judaic truth.
Vedic Hindoo truth.
Buddist truth.
Capitalist truth.
Socialist truth.
Free market truth.
Managed market truth.
Monarchist truth.
Democratic truth.
Militarist truth.
Liberal truth.
Fascist truth.
People that tell lies to you are denying you truthfulness.
How boring and dangerous and malevolent are people full of lies.
Choose your lies.
Christian lies.
Islamic lies.
Judaic lies.
Vedic Hindoo lies.
Buddist lies.
Capitalist lies.
Socialist lies.
Free market lies.
Managed market lies.
Monarchist lies.
Democratic lies.
Militarist lies.
Liberal lies.
Fascist lies.
Truthfulness is neither truth nor lies.
It exists on its own.
Truthfulness is free of the Duality of Truth and Lies..
The individual Isness exists in the state of Separate and Merged with the Isness of the Universe.
Permanent Mindlessness is unconditional love--just ask any Dog or Cat.
The Mind separates us from the Isness of the Universe.
The Mind creates Duality which is governed by Conditional Love.
The individual Isness creates Unconditional Love(Consciousness) which is outside Duality.
Mind cannot create Unconditional Love.
The individual Isness cannot create Conditional Love.
If you have Mind/Conditioned Identity in your head you cannot love Unconditionally.
If you do not have Mind/Conditioned Identity then you can only love Unconditionally.
If you have Mind and Conditioned Identity you cannot be Merged with the Isness of the Universe.
If you are Mindless and Conditioned Identityless you are merged with the Isness of the Universe.
Conditional Love says I love you on Condition I can hate you.
Unconditional Love says I will never stop loving you but I may dissapprove of your actions but I will never hate you because I cannot hate..
Conditional Love is selective--it only applies to Family and Friends and fellow GroupMind members.
Unconditional Love is not selective--it applies to every living being--human or otherwise.
Unconditional Love does not see people as Friends and Enemies.
Unconditional Love sees people as individual Isness incarnated in bodies.
Humans are deceived by the Mind into believing that the Conditioned Identity is their true Identity and deceived by the Mind into believing that they should leave the running of their brains and therefore their lives to the Mind.
The individual Isness is a small but equal individual independent,
nameless,formless,genderless,autonomous portion of the Isness of the Universe that people controlled by Mind are taught to call a Soul.
The Soul is just another Mind created Conditioned Identity.
The Atman is just another Mind created Conditioned Identity.
The individual Isness is formed from a small but equal portion of the essence of the Isness of the Universe and incarnated in a Human Body of either Gender-_male or female of any skin colour.
www.beyondenlightenment.co.uk
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 1:24 AM UTC
Masters of the Universe,
tender me thy resignation,
if but for
a day,
a millennia,
no matter how measured,
any being,
you, purported supreme
or otherwise,
are tired in ways
hard to comprehend
*tender me
thy responsibilities and dilemmas,
have studied your resignations,
solutions that provide no resolution...*
I can do better.
Why?
not obligated by parenthood,
rules of randomness superimposed,
all I got is human kindness
the eyesight that
colors kindness,
tolerates no injustice,
milky white light,
no longer recognize
"there for the grace of God
go you and I"
have no name,
but if you need one for me,
call me
<human>
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 8:01 AM UTC
Deforestation, dying of the trees;
Evilness approaching;
Forest, the home of the animals;
Owned by the animals;
Ruined by humans;
Ever lasting the destruction is;
Side effect of the deforestation is destruction;
Trees, getting cut by the humans;
Attacking the forest by cutting it;
The homes of the animals are destroyed;
If we don’t stop we will destroy the nature;
Otherwise, humans will die;
No one can change the past if we don’t.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC
Time stops for noone,
Only consider yourself above others if time has ever stopped ticking just for you,
Otherwise we're all equal because all of us live with time whether we use it or waste it..
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 3:57 PM UTC
You are annoying
And I hate you.
But my eyes,
My eyes suggest otherwise.
F.Z.N
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
My ****** betrays me
It yearns to be touched, kissed, caressed
Drawn to the point of ecstasy
But perhaps lingering at the edge
To relish the pleasure for a moment
A moment
Longer
My ****** betrays me
Always wanting more
More
More
Never consolidating with the others parts
The brain
The heart
And we are not speaking in terms of anatomical correctness
No, but in terms of
Emotions
I said it
My ****** betrays me
My heart yearns
They argue
The heart wants intimacy, human touch, connection
The feeling of looking into the eyes of another and knowing
In that instant
That second
That moment
Everything is okay
And even if it isn’t
It doesn’t matter
Nothing will matter
Except
This
Moment
My ****** betrays me
My heart yearns
And they argue
But my brain
My logic
The voices within
They speak up, naturally of course
Please the ****** for the night
Intimacy
Ha
Intimacy
Have you looked inside
For your insides are as hideous as the out
Do not believe otherwise
My ****** betrays me
My heart yearns
They argue
But my brain
My brain does the most damage
It controls them all
The betrayal, the yearning
My brain betrays me
My brain wants what it cannot ever have
My brain desires things so far from its reach
My brain imagines the impossible
Love
My ****** betrays me
My heart yearns
They argue
Then my brain
My brain goes off
Thoughts passing by at the speed of light
Each one, so very important
My brain is in charge.
It supplies the salty wetness that falls from my eyes
The emptiness I feel within
My ****** betrays me
My heart yearns
They argue
But my brain
My brain destroys all
My brain burns the cities down
The dreams
Dashed against the rocks
My desires
Meaninglessly quenched
My emptiness
Forever there
My brain betrays me
My brain yearns
And within, is an argument
Within
Within is the problem
No one will ever know, So fear not
Let the brain betray
Let it yearn
For the mouth
Perhaps, that is who really is in charge
The mouth shall not betray
The eyes may
The eyes do
But who catches them long enough to see inside?
No one has, No one will
My brain betrays me
My brain yearns
An argument, within
But my mouth
Shall
Never
Betray
Me
It shall remain closed
Sealed tight
Strongest of clay bricks
Guarding my secrets
Guarding what lies within
The confines of my soul
Emotions
Emotions betray me
Emotions yearn
Emotions cause me to argue within
But my mouth
My
Mouth
Shall
Remain
Loyal
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 11:03 PM UTC
me truck
me truck is where i get my luck
good luck, bad luck, nice luck
me truck stunk like a skunk
that seems like bad luck
but it was the good skunk
the wan that gets u bunked
me cat has a bad case of lice
no more chasing ***** mice
the stupid thing only eats rice
the ganga it smokes is so nice
it somkes great out of me pipe
my truck makes me lots of money
me honey likes me money
me brain aint very funny
i also aint a big smarty
so me truck is me only option
i like it, its so very nice
almost as good as mariwawa
otherwise known as de ganga
good bye
tank u truck
for me money and me food
to feed me fam
and me ganga addiction
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
Yes, it's seemingly a nonsensical rhetorical question, but, for that precise reason, it will illustrate a lesson, if you so desire to tag along for this short session.
Per Wikipedia, "The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus. It is an odd-toed ungulate mammal belonging to the taxonomic family Equidae." Hmmm... I much prefer that the horse goes "Nay," eats hay, has a mane, and is ridden by cowboys, cowgirls, Indians, equestrians, knights, jockeys, conquistadors, Mongols, and all. Even better, just point a horse out or otherwise show a picture to a kid and they will never be mistaken again. Even the littlest ones will never be stumped when faced with a rhino, tiger, giraffe, camel, and such.
Admittedly, there is a worry that we could be fooled with that of a donkey or mule. How come no one has taken advantage of this?! What a scam to get us rich! "Duh doy," you say, cause we all know when we see a horse, so why would anyone try to trick us with an *** Well I ask you in turn, why does anyone try to trick us with good art versus bad, let alone art versus crap? How could anyone fall for that?!
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
the wind is a Lady with
bright slender eyes(who
moves)at sunset
and who—touches—the
hills without any reason
(i have spoken with this
indubitable and green person “Are
You the Wind?” “Yes” “why do you touch flowers
as if they were unalive,as
if They were ideas?” “because,sir
things which in my mind blossom will
stumble beneath a clumsiest disguise,appear
capable of fragility and indecision
—do not suppose these
without any reason and otherwise
roses and mountains
different from the i am who wanders
imminently across the renewed world”
to me said the)wind being A lady in a green
dress,who;touches:the fields
(at sunset)
19.7k
The world is full of
Inequality
No matter where you look
No matter what they say
The world is full of
Inequality
It’s said that fire can destroy anything
if it burns hot enough
if it burns long enough
even if that anything is as tenacious as steel
because steel melts
and it can be bent to my will
I am fire
I will burn
I can bend the world to my will
The world that’s full of Inequality
Because I am a woman
Because I am resilient
And no one will tell me otherwise.
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
Brandon,
To see you grow up and turn into the man you are is a gift... A young man, smart, kind, thoughtful to others. I have no criticisms to offer you in regards to the path and choices you have taken and made. I feel swelling pride for you as I write this and cannot wait to see and hear the adventures you will embark on in your life.
Having you as my cousin touches me and reminds me that I have an impact on the world, and for as long as you have looked up to me as your older cousin, I will always feel a sense of responsibility and caring for you, invigorating in purpose, which helps craft the home in my heart. Seeing time pass as sand in an hour glass, I can only glance in retrospect and see the years and times as a family you have shared with us; if it were a scoreboard, a test, the sum of all of your actions: a resounding win or success story on all counts. You are a gift to those around you and your happiness and caring will change this world for the better as it already has changed mine. Thank you for being my cousin, but more so for being the person you always are. You are a blessing and a light. Don't ever let anybody tell you otherwise or believe differently...
To end my letter to you, I will leave you with this: I can't wait to grow old and share more time with you; to go fishing, to go camping, to carry on our family's traditions and dinners which are so special among families, to share this chance to be alive and breathing, and to share our hearts with others. Go forth Brandon. Go forth and share your love with the world. Light your torch and burn it. I love you Brandon.
Your Cousin,
-Kevin
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 1:53 PM UTC
the first time, touched
us, otherwise strangers
delving within ourselves
our overt close encounters
past intimate imitations
of love’s labour lost and gained
we collide
again and again
crossing over, crossing under
energies focused at the hip
flowing through & into one another
endlessly
we release
feathers soaked
in each other’s essence
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 2:16 PM UTC
A single dandelion seed could turn a desert into a beautiful garden, all it needs is someone to love it and look after it ~
Because the love of light is for all to bear, it is embracing, warm and gentle, life grows out of it to rejoice it's wonderful unique touch.
Seeing the desert one should note, that light can be cruel and harsh, scorching in heat while only trying to do what's right,
Leaving behind an almost lifeless part, it becomes the kiss of death,
In the end you get lost, blinded the luminousity which was once a gift
And by the night when it covers, you lost all fear of darkness,
It already became part of what you were anyway, you didn't belong,
Without turning your back you simply let the darkness consume you,
Yet don't you see, that the nights somber appearance holds the glory of crystal starlight; a river of countless of them form the milky way,
Perhaps you are but a blossoming flower, only blooming to the kindled brightness of tonights moon, dim, yet also filled with awe,
The love of light is for all to bear, but don't overdose yourself with it,
Otherwise, it will burn you up before it leaves you rotting.
~ Umi
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
admire me
the way I brush paint on canvas
before the purpose finds a footing
before the colors melt together
and the scenery is lifeless
admire how I read books
for hours on end
the expressions that read on a dull face
otherwise marred by furrowed eyebrows
admire the lilt in my voice
and the uncontrollable pitch
that gives away my every intention unwillingly
admire my great feats of prose
my plump, woman body
my awkward hands and pretty clothes
admire me when I don't even come close
to tickling your fancy
admire me because I exist
dote on me and give me your wishes
admire me as I grant what I can with kisses
admire my nymphet desires
admire my candy coated lips
admire me and want me
admire me
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
On the stiff twig up there
Hunches a wet black rook
Arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain.
I do not expect a miracle
Or an accident
To set the sight on fire
In my eye, nor seek
Any more in the desultory weather some design,
But let spotted leaves fall as they fall,
Without ceremony, or portent.
Although, I admit, I desire,
Occasionally, some backtalk
From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain:
A certain minor light may still
Lean incandescent
Out of kitchen table or chair
As if a celestial burning took
Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then --
Thus hallowing an interval
Otherwise inconsequent
By bestowing largesse, honor,
One might say love. At any rate, I now walk
Wary (for it could happen
Even in this dull, ruinous landscape); skeptical,
Yet politic; ignorant
Of whatever angel may choose to flare
Suddenly at my elbow. I only know that a rook
Ordering its black feathers can so shine
As to seize my senses, haul
My eyelids up, and grant
A brief respite from fear
Of total neutrality. With luck,
Trekking stubborn through this season
Of fatigue, I shall
Patch together a content
Of sorts. Miracles occur,
If you care to call those spasmodic
Tricks of radiance miracles. The wait's begun again,
The long wait for the angel,
For that rare, random descent.
18k
I am told that I should love my body,
and I should not be ashamed.
BUT the white, conservative men tell me otherwise, making me feel nothing but shame.
When did it become okay for a male's education to be more important than a woman's rights?
When did it become okay to sexualize a woman just because her shirt does not cover her rear end?
This is apparent in the things my teachers have told me.
"Your shirt must be fingertip length when wearing yoga pants," she said.
"Why?"
"Because the males that sit in the class might be too destracted to listen to my lecture."
We are treated like *** toys.
Us girls are used for nothing more than a mans pleasure, so they imply.
This is MY body, and no one else's.
I may do what I please,
and no one should have a problem with it.
I refuse to be sexualized and treated like we are living in the 1920s.
But I must conform and live in fear of my consequences.
**** culture is real,
and school's are promoting it.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
It's dark out, A cold winter night.
Awfully lonely even for me.
A howl echoes throughout the silence, my heart drops.
A howl that entered through one ear and echoed loud for my soul to hear.
Would it be sinister to say I smiled knowing I wasn't the only one here?
A smile becomes a sarcastic laugh of desperation, being ironic I joined with crying howls to the moon.
Before I could finish the wolf howls again.
I learned something that night, I solved the answer to love.
Find your moon, find someone who brings light to your darkness.
Find someone who, when you feel like a lone wolf with a numb soul; Will be your moon to howl to.
We'd be a beautiful love song.
I learned hope is when a lone wolf sings to a moon, as if it'd reach.
A Favorite melody howled the lone wolf so heavenly.
A rhythme being merely, an echo of his heartbeat.
Love is feeling that heartbeat and hearing a melody.
Then singing all the words otherwise too scared to speak.
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 9:00 PM UTC
Went to my magwinya lady today,
she's contained at the canteens on north campus,
As she rose up her left eye was bluish ****** grey,
A lump in my throat formed not as big as the one on her face,
my eyes secreted their salty solution,
my mind quickly processed confusion,
"M-m-m-m-may i-i-i p-p-lease have five magwinyas"
She smirked at my muttered utterance as she began to fill the thin transparent plastic with the oily flour-filled *****
I reluctantly asked "What happened to your eye?"
She responded in Xhosa reasonably assuming my common cocoa coating meant our tongues matched until I told her otherwise.
Eventually she simply said, "Fight".
I said, "you got in to a fight?"
She said "Mmm".
I went over to my banana lady and said the magwinya lady has a black eye and she casually claimed, "Her boyfriend beat her yesterday."
Confirming what my teary eyes and lumpy throat knew to be true when I saw my sweet magwinya lady with a swollen eye ****** grey and blue.
Frustrated at the nothing I could do.
Powerlessly pirched on a brown bench as the black sparrows chirped pleading for a piece of my last magwinya,
Should I tell her to escape?
Is that even my place?
How many black eyes are blotched on this bruised land i, a fearful foreigner, trace?
I'll bury my brain in my book,
somewhat cowardly crook,
I'll see what i saw but take no second look,
like a camel's head in the sand,
I'll timidly tell myself these things are just too hard to understand.
Nov 3, 2021
Nov 3, 2021 at 6:43 AM UTC
The soil gives birth to beautiful flowers,
Therefore can it be called a "mother" ?
I asked myself this question for hours
But without a ***** it wouldn't bother
It would be lifeless, water is the only thing it devours
Oh mother earth, your beauty fascinates me
Oh dear Sunflower, have you found your special bee ?
Pollination is important, otherwise there wouldn't be flowers
Oh cloud, give us your water, so we can grow, we can see
Until winter arrives we will be filled with glee
~ Umi
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 7:52 AM UTC