"partials" poems
Joy conceived in the vision
The Lily of the drought
Volunteer of the incision
And a seed of doubt
Black silky Intertwined threads
The touch and sound of care
Love, warmth, comfort spreads
Your intensity in all rare
Infinite options hang above
Spinning a smoky vortex
Simply what you hate or love
Discombobulates my cortex
Only clues to a mystery
Yet partials of a masterpiece
Less of shortened history
Wonder moves me not to cease
Jul 4, 2023
Jul 4, 2023 at 1:49 PM UTC
My time spent chasing rainbows taught me of pipe dreams,
and liars.
Dusting off the fairy dust,
I learn my limbs have life
Evolution saunters, entertaining kings
Picking fights, for the sake of the queen
Animals were made to bleed
Rainbows are made from rain.
partials of color
tend to escape
My time spent chasing rainbows, gave me bruises
cuts so deep, I never heal
there is beauty in the damaged flesh
solace in regret
Truth shines across the sky
colored in lies
I spent my time chasing rainbows, lost in the thrill
I should have spent my time admiring the still
the small feel, of standing beneath.
Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
Love stories do not start the same
Yet they all end the classic way
Odd first encounter, then obstacles
Come credits, movie fades with wonder.
Sugar-coated films are to blame
Viewers listen to what they say
That love is worth a million battles
In the end, you'll find the right partner.
Romantics yearn for the Grand Finale
Optimists believe in Meant To Be's
Broken hearts curse the hurtful truth
And films try do define the rule.
Love the drama and the silly
Sick of the cheesy and the tease
Either way, like having a sweet tooth,
Their imagination becomes your tool.
Still, I have another idea
Of how it should be, how it feels.
Then again, I got no clue at all
But I'm certain it's not like the films.
Nothing real can come of thee,
Only partials and it kills
The erratic beauty of it all,
Love must be more than what they scheme.
So I know it's not like fiction
Pain lasts and it never ends well;
So I want better than fiction
Perhaps one day, I'll be able to tell.
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 4:45 PM UTC
at last
an arrival in
yesterday's nightfall
this fullness of light..
our preparation completed
by growing slices each night..
partials direct remembering
to light lost and then found
full dark and full light..
let's imagine the dark
naming now
a friend's painful rant
his questions are struggle
enclosing reason and doubt..
might his rant find itself
in lunar transformation
a new grasp of the whole..?
ranting and stimulating
as electrical pole..
return and flow
reaching and receiving
Full Light...?
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
FRIEND IS NOT A FRIEND,
BECAUSE HE IS LIVING FOR THIS TREND,
TEACHER IS NOT A TEACHER,
BECAUSE THEY SEEING THE PARTIALS.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 9:52 AM UTC
before you know it you have set up a world
of selves and others
where one of you – more often more – is bound to get hurt.
the stories telling themselves
apart.
the whole remaining inconsequential.
the body will not be accepted
as easily as day
gives itself up.
treading the shifting waypoints
the choices waysides of occasions
of partials.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 3:54 PM UTC
In words of wording
in times of no time to wording
to inner wordings
to not misleading but leading
with what is more powerful
and human
Lies the knowledge of the deepest self
not in the partials but the overall
in the leading of the overall
where darkness can become home
where soul can be found to know
In subconscious array in sleep of away
remains the space that is so much to hold
to gather here in dissaray
to finding what you as one might like
a pleasing of some type of hell range
Fear whatever you must like to
know whatever you so despise to
find nothing in you
other than that space,
you can name home
© 2018 Clarissa van Vreden
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC