"overestimation" poems
I dive left before heading right, more times than I care to admit,
Each time I turn right and am not confronted, it feels like rejection,
A small death of little consequence for the life that could have been
So sweet, so superficial, a mini life grew- as I read your bio,
To be dashed in another instant of silence,
I have a tendency to rush into things without much guidance.
Your voice is sweet and smooth- to read,
Imagine a personality that fits- perfectly in the palm of my hand,
Conveyed in small white messages, poked through smaller holes,
Each one I read makes me feel a little brighter inside,
But each little light catches fire and dies, I must confide
That each one I read makes me feel alive.
But only for the moment, so I conduct another,
Small parcel containing another little piece of my soul,
“If you can feel your soul slowly, slipping away, that means that you still have one”
That is a phrase that will lead you to defeat before you have begun,
It leads to me giving away much less than I can afford,
These ‘one for one’ serotonin boosts are leaving me bored…
So maybe we could meet, go get something to eat,
I am sure that I won’t be bored by your topic of conversation,
Or at least I will try and make it look that way,
Because the cold reality is that we have nothing in common,
Except for a lack of self-esteem and an overestimation of our-
Social skills, next to non-existent,
I am perpetually distant!
I am sure that you were terrifically disappointed with last night
Because your messages are written on withered pieces of paper,
A full stop is the most definite thing that there is,
Subtle undertones have a pulse and it beats,
Black blood to and from a dying heart,
I should have known that you were poison, right from the start.
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 8:22 AM UTC
her voice shakes like a mud wall
in an earthquake, slurry and moistened
with beer, struggling to stand
in my ear, each fall of my boot chokes
further up the hillside neck,
her left behind cry cakes into my footsteps
then bleats *SEAN! I’m gonna fall
my legs hurt*, I’m worried the poison
of fear will melt her to sand
but I trust she doesn’t need assured looks
or words, just strength in her back,
her spine’s solid as mine, but she forgets
I wait at the top, the dome
where all upward strides will always lead
an inverted pit for sinking stones
too stubborn to abide to gravity
there at the top, the moon
pinwheels in time to deep and dizzy
breathing that yanks up my rooted bones
plants them in pieces outside of my body
her form summits at a crawl
but buries hurry in her voice and
comes near, commits a cold hand
SLAP
just begging to see my face broken
*why would you run? you’re a ****
but my abandonment was a sign of respect
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 6:26 AM UTC
DIGESTION
When the temperature is raised
Particles gain kinetic energy
And collide at a greater frequency.
The more particles that collide
The chances of a reaction occurring increases.
How many times have elbows rubbed
In hallways, no matter how crowded
Yet nothing happens,
Nothing precipitates,
Not even a cough
Or a wandering shot
From the corner of their eyes.
People pass
By or away
And yet hallways are still full;
Full of thoughts of other people
Full of longing
Full of the people who are missing.
USE OF ELECTROLYTE
The addition of an electrolyte
Reduces the coulombic repulsion
Produced by a solution’s ionic atmosphere;
An electrolyte allows ions to interact more freely.
A full bus is void of tension.
A stranger who writes letters everyday,
But crumples the paper before finishing
Is completed by the person
Who eagerly awaits a text on their phone.
A person with a bouquet of flowers
Catches the eye of someone lost in thought.
So many people who compliment one another,
Or an other,
Sit idly on a moving bus
Separated only by people
Who, too, are separated from their second piece.
You meet such people everyday
Who could have been,
Yet are not.
CO-PRECIPITATION
Something that is generally avoided.
An impurity that co-precipitates with the product
Can cause an overestimation of analyte.
Impurities can be caught within
The crystal lattice structure of the compound
Or trapped inside a growing crystal.
It may be hard to understand
Such thoughts still seem foreign
But I, too, have things that I remember dearly.
They are wrapped up with
Lists of groceries, and formulas
About distance and its relation to
Speed and its change over time.
It is all just things that have
Come to pass.
Such memories are hard to keep
When there is only one who articulates them,
But I am sure
Perhaps years from now
You’ll catch yourself thinking
For a split second
And then go about your day.
PEPTIZATION
The breaking up of precipitate
Due the loss of electrolyte
Which strengthens the ionic atmosphere
Around the analyte.
In line at a bus stop
A glimpse is caught
Of the oncoming bus
And people shuffle
As the line moves up.
Never again
Can the same people
Line up the same way
For the same bus
We are too fragile
To construct ourselves in such a way
Where we can meet again.
Fate is too frail
Someone must leave
Leaves must fall
But someone always stays.
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 12:43 PM UTC
I am tired
The aches of my bones have exceeded my years
No longer able to lift my own weight
My arms stage a mutiny
Against the mind that is still crying out orders
In hoarse desperation
I give up
The tendons clinging to my tattered skeleton
Are letting go
And, I resolve, so should I
Let go
Lord this is where I am
I would say this is where I stand
Yet I'm sure that would be an overestimation
Of my current state
Yet I can't really complain can I
With you laying broken on the cross
For these now worn down bones
Take me and use me
For my own will
Is what lead me here
To this place of suffering
Remake me
For it is my only hope
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC
There goes a heavy mind, of speaking such
a mind— which I try to do.
And its hard to admit sometimes the crack of a smile
cuts through my skin, just a few.
On the lines of lies; the straight answer sounds so crooked,
As the itch of resolve, comes from a different view, when most
of the actions seem so confused,
—used, abused, and concluded as making a lack of effort.
Oppressed, in such a depressed action; pressed out of
maturity’s wine— blood red of repentance.
I’ve failed, and have failed people; also the latter, people have
failed and have failed me also, now having to come to
terms with the fact with great acceptance.
Enduring the plank within a jealous eye;
a speck of envy entails the nonstop question of, __“why,”__
—the yearning for such possessions had possessed me
to speak upon another person, with such evil.
Even if I had more than what they have, it would all feel
trivial, as what is considered important by people.
Some tears at times do feel milked, that they have stained
my face with a façade of innocence.
Oftentimes, my mind comes with equal amounts of
guilt, through its own filth.
Walking with eyes focused on every step, to avoid a
reflection of themselves in the gazes of the sun,
Still the reflection displays my darkness,
as a shadow of secrets, pressed onto the ground.
For what man so desperately tries to hide, is always found out,
And what they’re not proud of, becomes the pride of the
overestimation of their lies, that have them bound.
Oh, how tall life is, and we’d fall so short of it.
Our words of praise, are as sweet as *****
Revolting; sickening acts that say,
“Buying into the world is more important,”
Despite what the end will be, when a ticket into Heaven,
isn’t close to a cost’s fit.
May 3, 2024
May 3, 2024 at 3:21 PM UTC