"polarized" poems
Do you hate the way
that our magnetized times
turn us all to metal shavings--
push and pull--charged each
day to fill up negative space
with negative attraction?
Were you repulsed when polarities
changed?
Or was that me?
Flipping switches
switching sides
siding
with pivot points showing, caught
with pants down?
"Be a man now!"
While the female end
of the port calls out,
"Shipwreck! Shipwreck!
All men down!"
Count me out at minus 4
it leaves a balance: minus 3
At minus 10, our blood could freeze
and fall back earthward; blood red snow.
Caught on the tongue it tastes like pennies.
Tastes just like
the metal shavings
we become
in magnetized times.
Polarized
and "Family Sized." Underpaid
Overfed. Neutralized America.
Greatest country in the ******* world.
Right?
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
Is there room for context at this table?
We can move some dishes and shuffle chairs.
I’ve checked all four legs and they seem stable,
but choosing a placemat is like splitting hairs.
I notice the candle’s flame is getting dim,
and my fingers pirouette in the puddles of wax,
my hair needs a cut but I settled for a trim,
and I’m donating my salary and spending my tax.
I’ve told you every thought in my head,
except the ones that matter the most,
the facts that scald my cheeks to red,
now they’re burning up like charred toast.
I’d promise you whatever you ask for,
and I’d drag myself to deliver each time,
but I’m ignoring the truth at my core,
and I’m confessing to you in mime.
Sit across from me with crossed legs,
see magnets becomes our eyes,
“come closer together” both begs,
but we’re determined and polarized.
There’s no world existing around us,
and there certainly is no group,
you listen while I ramble and make a fuss,
over the death of Lipton’s Alligator Soup.
We turned Heaven into a Hell,
we took a skeleton and made a shell,
We dragged our nails down the walls
scribbled ephiphanies on bathroom stalls,
and silenced a story we could never tell.
And all the things that have driven us apart,
in truth have only made us stronger.
and my love you are actually my heart,
I won’t question it’s beating any longer.
If you’re stuck with a choice
you should flip a coin in the air,
then listen to your mind’s voice,
‘cause your answer will be there.
When it comes to heads or tails,
you already know your favourite side,
you’ll pray for it as the coin sails,
ignore the outcome but absorb the ride.
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
I hate my personality.
I don't have a personality
That cultivates relationships.
No,
My personality leads to anguish -
Insecurity.
If I could,
For once,
Harvest a bit of
Silence in my brain -
I'd love that.
I hate to feel anxiety;
Fear of abandonment;
Insecurity;
Obscurity;
I hate to feel what I feel.
What's worse,
I can't find elegant words
To describe it.
Leaving me mute,
People assume things about me,
Making my efforts moot.
Friends think I'm overbearing;
Demanding.
Romances think I don't trust them;
That I'm too controlling,
Insecure;
Dependent;
Too moody;
Too possessive.
My personality makes people leave me.
I'm too touchy -
Too hard to love or understand.
People see me,
And expect me to freak out,
Or to demand attention.
Well this is my account -
Because when you are on
The borderline,
It's easy to see
That the grass is greener
On either side -
But for others,
You seem polarized.
I'm not happy with how my brain works.
I don't want to be the way I am.
I don't want to make sure people are
Thinking about me...
And then feel guilty or angry when they don't,
Or can't.
I hate my personality.
I hate who I am.
It causes me to never feel comfort,
And my unrest has left me
An insomniac for too long.
Now,
I just want to rest.
But,
It's hard to sleep when you're alone
And afraid of the dark.
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 3:09 PM UTC
You black and white beasts
From the far east,
Oh, how I long to be invited to your panda feasts.
I put on my panda hat with my panda suit,
Tie my panda tie and my panda shoes.
I arrive at your gate with all my panda bling,
But you say, for me to enter, I must wear your panda ring.
That doesn’t sound so bad if that’s all I need to do
To be allowed to enter and eat bamboo with you.
I’ve waited for this moment, longed to be accepted.
But, to be honest, it’s not what I expected.
Although I am so close, and the ring looks nice,
I hesitate for a second, take a moment to think twice.
Is this what my life has come to, debating a “panda ring”?
Enslaved to every whim of the panda king,
Doing what he wants me to, just to be approved,
Once I put that ring on, it cannot be removed.
No, I will not stoop to a panda ring,
I have my own bear song to sing.
As I say goodbye, waving my bare hand,
I notice panda rings on all their bear hands.
Spotless I return, back home to the ice,
Ready to chill out and live a polarized life.
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 7:50 PM UTC
A dream can give a poor peasant a chance to be with a beautiful woman, in a pristine environment,
living a life of privilege.
A dream can make him have a bowl of royal ice cream on a hot summer day.
A dream can make her wealthy dad bless their marriage.
A dream can change a peasant's life.
Dreams can come true
Only if you believe.
A dream can transform the life of a homeless child.There can be love, care a warm bed and full bellie
and protection.
A dream can make a Baptist Preacher
See a bright future of his country.
A country polarized by racial segregation and social divides, injustice inequality.
A dream in which his children won't be judged
by their skin colors, rather by the contents of their characters.
©IvanBrooksPoetry
21/8/2018
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 11:07 AM UTC
if you listen carefully
to that song that you love
so much so that it brings salt
to your eyelashes
pay attention
stare directly at the sun
or into a projector
displaying a map of canada
and witness it
the luminescence
and every tone and shade
of every chroma
flashing with every blink
the liquid provides
a spectrum unbeknownst
to vertebrates
much like blood for vision
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
I always found freedom in movement
In the midst of steps
Whether from music
Or from the occurrence of those around
In moments of reflection,
I liked to think I was dancing
I moved in between these sequences
Fixed in the rules of performance
Unable to think past this choreography
Never able to make my own
But I felt it only appropriate
To move as others did
One step forward
A slight sway to the left
Another turn to my right
And back
And back
It was under this prison of routine
I found myself in
As in every other time
But something changed in these steps
As in now when I moved towards the next
You stood in my wake
I knew how different you were, placed to my standing
You worried nothing of such structure
Taking these movements as yours
Away from those who claimed their fluidity
Why you would ever take an interest in my polarized side
Quite the oxymoron; I still can’t fathom
Yet there you were
Everywhere I moved
Forcing me to look past these fixtures
Stepping past their simplicities
To find aspects I had thought foreign to me
You showed me how wrong I was in this definition of ‘freedom’
One step forward, now two
A sway left, although now with your hand in mine
A counter to the other side
Now with the opposing hand
The most complete connection
At least that’s what it felt to me
Now that I think of that time
There were changes greater than I could focus on
Besides those most immediate
I realize I never did step back
Perhaps the most significant change
As I haven’t since
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 10:33 PM UTC
in the eyes of a reflection
shattered by things that are unseen
eyes aren't polarized to see beyond other eyes
shining water looks up at me
I see myself and beyond the surface
aquatic life isn't hiding behind other guise?
in the glass of the shattering
I see myself as that broken image
a war was fought. but no war was won
shining sky looks down on me
you handed me a broken mirror
then you said "look what he has done"
Oct 29, 2021
Oct 29, 2021 at 3:56 PM UTC
Take my hand - you've got to
feel fun time's heading
closer
Futuristic daydreams
are at hand -handy!
microchipped wild
boys and girls
on rent - hardly paid off -
dance! Roll the dice!
Flicker eyes!
Adrift on the dimlit
flourescent
effervescent
reflector rays°°°°you're
never lost or at loss;
Coloured circles glide
across the dancefloor______
bouncy boots swoon, high heels
crack, remastered barefoot Tribe~
Enjoys momentary revelations!
Latino lovers attracting
honey dew magnetic more-s
rain coats off - smiley coasts shine on~
those cunning shenanigan freckles
pressed redhair beauties against
needy torsos in ecco-leather jackets
electrified silhouettes stunning
like elves un-fading beauty
transforming tuxedos
of a tight
night; a jingle of
Prague crystals into
one dancing wave submerged
by the vicinity of hissing tongues
-been- beaten by fierce kissing
in a stronghold ballroom
frenzy - polarized
beatings - hi-s and bye-s ; a
stroboscopic syncopation
ecstatic hips,
space shuttle
trips
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
There was a sun
behind 'The Sun'
that burned a little differently.
There was a sun
farther away,
that shone a little differently.
No source of light
No source of warmth
Was not the benevolent of nature.
There was a sun
who looked a lot like you
A sun, of higher stature.
Fierce soldier, fighting hard
Cared not, feared not
the tides, the moon, the death lake.
Would burn and melt and heat and bake
Cared not, feared not
about anyone, but his dear snowflake.
He moved about,
round and round
unlike the many others.
Spellbound by the softness
of the snow ,the tempted young sun
couldn't stay any farther.
And thence moved,
the imperious sun
at a steady but leisurely pace.
Towards the wishful
and restless snowflake
who waited for his wordless embrace.
This twosome of heat and frost
wasn't meant to be
said the Mighty Lord.
Disregarding the Lord's words
The fervid sun said
"We shall be together against all odds"
Hesitant and anxious
were the first touches,
strong was this polarized attraction.
Melted the snow on the Sun's surface,
He couldn't stop this
unintentional percolation.
She gave her life
To the infinite sun
Though ,In his core she was reborn.
Calmed his inferno, the snowflake
Outstretched her empty hands again,
Cooled down the sun's wrath, like she had sworn.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
lukewarm black coffee
in an eco friendly cup.
Profits, Profits.
Pull yourself up by boot straps and
smoke cigarettes, get cancer
die a wreck.
I can't seem to find me
I now live in a place where I speak the language,
but I liked not understanding old words much better.
I always know a person by their hands.
fingers chubby, wrinkled,stubby shaky, shaky.
hands.
Everything seems clearer over here.
Black and white.
polarized.
yellow, brown,
tan, ***** fat.
But there is no gray.
They say there is love here--
California love here--
but I can't find it.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 9:26 PM UTC
We share blood you and I,
and have shared
golden pocketed memories, sticky ice-creamed fingers
back seats,smelly packs of cheese and onions crisps
and jokes about the two in the front arguing over directions,money- us.
Yet we couldn't be more polarized,
Your a young soul but your older,
you used to whisper scandalous grown -up things
and I would swallow your information as gospel.
Under sapphire skies,
I'd follow you around just wanting your attention
and I know now how annoying it must have been
to have a whiny little sister wanting you to play Barbies.
And I won't lie,
I love you most days and hate you the rest
for all those times you'd beat me up(really just a punch)
and pronounce me the Loch-ness monster and call me fat.
It'll always be Love/Hate with you and I
I'm the chalk and your the cheese
but you make me laugh until my sides ache
and I know you love telling me the news of your latest exploit.
There's a camaraderie well that implied,
I've got your back and you've got mine.
we table tennis tease but we both draw a line
and we won't cross it.
because we share blood you and I,
despite nurture over nature
or blood is thicker than water
know this big brother
I love you as a person.
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 5:28 PM UTC
Hypnotizing Swirl
The last time I saw you, my mind was an intensified and frigid blast from the polarized north.
I held onto your body and our breath emitted a spiritual corona which enveloped us in love.
We dwelled within a single abode intertwining our illuminated vessels.
Within this shrine resides the sacred enamorment that placed me in a trance…
-A hypnotizing swirl.-
Spirited away, in this moment, I moon the time away awaiting the evolution, the bloom, the metamorphosis, the efflorescence of your quintessence.
Like a delicate orchid of the brightest evergreen stem.
An exuberant and illustrious flower, a symbol of our love, it has intertwined our beings with the seeds of rejuvenation sown into our souls.
Today when I see you, like a broken record in my mind, I am detached.
I am a juggernaut, a sentinel who guards sanity within the confines of an indomitable fortress.
My dream has been nurtured in a pink dreamer’s chest; my treasure is a myriad of aromatic petals sealed away.
Upon this parcel, the benediction of amor has been bestowed.
Moonbeams and iridescent butterflies dwindle upon its rosy and stout exterior.
The Universe’s tears glimmer upon the castle walls housing my fantasy, my tenuous and ethereal hope bound to break at any moment.
-An epiphany can change things you know.-
“How do I know that my beseeching cries shall reach the Transcendental in the Realm of the Tenuous and Divine?”
-Only faith and virtue can allow me to reach the pinnacle of my desires-
To a Shattered and Reassembled Dream.
By, Sanders Maurice Foulke III
Apr 7, 2012
Apr 7, 2012 at 9:03 PM UTC
imagine the infinite
figure 8, as energy flow
running thru the earth.
being round, it has two
polarized chakric crowns.
the tantric male polarity:
Northern Lights/Aurora Borealis.
the tantric female polarity:
Southern Lights/Aurora Australis.
yet the figure 8 energy flow,
shows the tantric male/female
polarities have interpenetrated .
unified polarity...so it's north for
the sake of north.
south for the sake of south, beyond
that...
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 2:52 AM UTC
Aw, who knows?
who cares?
It's easy to leave.
Shelly is in too deep.
Shelly grabs her
pair of
polarized
and she puts 'em on.
'Cause Shelly can see
what I really
think of me.
Shelly's hair blows
in the breeze
and,
and,
and
Strawberries!
Shellys' Summer's little girl.
Spoiled
by the sun.
Shellys' Sunday's spare,
she got used
by someone.
She tunes her guitar
to English,
Shelly sings to me.
My Sweet little bird, Shelly.
Don't fly away.
Don't fly away,
Shelly,
Don't fly away.
Aw, who knows
who cares?
It's easy to see.
Shelly is in deep
for me.
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 1:15 AM UTC
Lost and Found in a World of Polarity
The wounds are deep
But as divine healers our mission is to treat
Negativity all around
From even those whose sacred mission is the same
Those Playing at the blind man’s game
Excusing themselves for pawns
Not understanding in life as in chess
You are the King
One step boldly
Conquering the pieces in the path
Death is the joker, rest assured of his last laugh
Smile warmly, for he sits upon your left
Fractals Fractals all around
What is big is small
Your quiet actions ring loud
in the cosmos’ heart
Reverberating onward out
One step boldly, all must start
Understanding the art of the self
You are the mountain
Summit your Self
The eye at the pyramid’s peak Stands for reason
Seeing all sides evenly
(Yet) We're all Jack and Jill
tumbling down the akashic hill
Lost In a polarized world
Sin is in
Our animal nature
Worn as a scar
Reminding us of the cost
To be who we are
Find The fire ever burning
Upon even your last breath
Part in parcel
The spark
The Fire
Ecstacy
Burning
Reality
Duality
Rising like the phoenix for your heart to soar
transcending time and space
All the stories nevermore
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
I often find that the people I know are polarized,
they range from,
positive to negative,
you have your optimists,
your idealists,
your cynics,
your nihilists,
and oddly enough,
everyone else.
Optimists believe in Hamilton's Principle,
but they tailor it to our own fabric,
they believe that for some unknown reason,
the current situation is the optimal one,
everything will be alright,
que sera sera,
carpe diem.
Idealists believe in truth,
they understand what is ideal,
and what is not,
they attempt to apply such principles to the observed world,
and more often than not,
they fail,
but that's alright,
they tried their best.
Cynics view the world as it is,
they observe and make rational judgement,
realism at its finest,
a time tested trait,
pragmatism has served them well.
Nihilists believe that life is without intrinsic meaning,
there is nothing that cannot be observed,
a craft of existentialist theory,
they assert that morality is a figment of mankind's imagination,
and for all we know,
they could be right.
And finally we have the remainder,
those of us we have no idea what we believe,
no path traced in the sand,
no trail blazed in the years prior,
and sometimes I think that perhaps this group is right,
there are limits to human understanding,
and so I ask,
how can we know,
oh,
how can we know?
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 6:30 AM UTC
Sunrise was just a red line in the inky void, as Lisa and I reached the harbor decking stairs,
but at once, the brazen slash began widening, like a silent, slow motion explosion,
thin, smoky wisps of cloud, like flammable tissue, prismed the stage light ignition.
bee-de-deep my phone chirped. It was Peter (my bf).
“Hey you,” I pronounced, as Lisa took off her left sneaker and shook it, upside-down.
“How’s the harbor?” Peter asked. I glanced at my watch, it was 5:32 am in New Haven.
Peter must be at lunch (in Geneva) and tracking our morning run with the ‘Find My’ app.
“Beautiful,” I pronounced, “they’re really putting on a show.”
Of course, I meant the universe, the sun, the turns who were already at work, and Long Island Sound.
The gulls, perched on whatever, and grousing at each other, obviously haven’t had their coffee.
I read that AI had decoded bird talk and on a wire, they chittered, “Move over, you’re in my space.”
“Just wanted to say good morning,” Peter confessed, “Good Morning.”
“Good morning,” I wished back, “gotta go,” I replied, Lisa had finished de-pebbling her shoe.
“Yep,” Peter agreed, “Seee ya,” he quipped. “See ya,” I chuckled, smiling.
My watch asked, in my Air Podded ears, “Have you finished your workout?” because I was motionless.
I pressed the crown of my watch and slid the phone back in my pocket, our jogg’s only half done.
We began our harbor exodus, by turning our backs to the haven. It was already beginning to busy with boats.
We slipped on our hats and protective, polarized sunglasses as we began to run directly into the blazing sun.
.
.
Songs for this:
Sail on Sailor by the Beach Boys
Dancing in the moonlight by Toploader
Cold Heart - PNAU Remix by Elton John, Dua Lipa, PNAU
Apr 25, 2024
Apr 25, 2024 at 10:07 AM UTC
I have been searching for this concept for eternity
Wandering through my trepidations
Looking through my misconceptions
It’s an idea deemed unattainable
Yet, as the fool I was
I continued to search
Perhaps spoken of in terms of verse
Perhaps in aspects more visual
Perhaps even in the ideas withheld
It can be summed in the way of a single word
A simple piece of diction, entranced in its triplicate of syllables:
Perfection
It seemed a goal attainable through precision
Taking away the negatives and mistakes
As if in the search for the smallest piece of consciousness
Ah the years I worked and struggled
Such time devoted to becoming as far away from my roots
But never did I realize where it lay
I had toiled away at my inner persona
Struck off those close
Refused to accept any mistakes, no matter the severity or relevance
But never did I realize perfection lay in a place so oxymoronic
Secluded in a place I had long since thought irrelevant
Hidden in its insecurity and utter depression
It lay in you
I almost laugh at it now
You, the embodiment of everything I didn’t want to be
Mistake-ridden, clumsy, needy
Forever looking to others to accomplish anything
But never leaving me, no matter how much I pushed you away
I couldn’t comprehend you
A person I saw as the Yin to my Yang
Forever polarized but inseparable
I was involved so heavily in this needless search
That I didn’t see you
Despite everything you did to let me
I hope you are at peace now
Resting with that curve of the bottom lip you always expressed towards me
Looking at me with those forever twinkling eyes
I had wrestled my entire life with a concept I thought so far
But now you’ve gone, and left me with my answer
Perfection lays in no distant star, or even a mindscape attained with an eternity of sacrifice
It lay in you
The most perfect imperfection
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 3:55 PM UTC
A torrent gushes from the serpent’s mouth
wave upon breaking wave; it’s ALL fake news
swiftly eroding what is left to lose.
Democracy’s waterlogged corpse drifts south,
a bloated mess; all waters to infuse
with putrefaction, thus to breed disease
uncivil war invades our fantasies;
the polarized extremes now pay their dues.
Propping things up: it’s what they do the best—
business as usual, pawns all occupied
in scaffolding facades upon the West
and sculpting the friezes of fratricide…
but underground, the currents cave away.
Media will fail; God brings a brighter day.
Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 3:03 PM UTC
An old man sat slumped
on the bus stop bench
as the snow drifted
silently around him.
He waited for the familiar
screech and hiss
that would soon come
to take him home.
An old sac rolled like
tumbleweed by his resting spot,
resting atop the flakes
on the freezing ground.
It sat there and breathed
the winter wind
drawing in the sounds
of a cold winter day.
An old street light
flickered in the distance
pushing the dripping
daylight away.
Its spotlight grazed
the boots of an under-clad
young woman, shuffling
to meet the coming bus.
The old man, with a memory
of childhood days,
stuck out his tongue
to taste the falling snow.
The woman, with a memory
of leering creeps,
startled at the old
man’s gesture.
The bus pulled up,
with its halt and hiss,
waited for the young
and old to board.
The two polarized
Minds sat afar
from each other,
all the long way home.
Oct 18, 2010
Oct 18, 2010 at 7:39 PM UTC
What say thou; sweet rains mean nothing to land -
Be its pride parched, drowning in tears, near death,
Perhaps, - no; rain will mean nothing to land.
What say thou; the wind without Easter's breath
Can reap the barley in the fall. Then reap,
Wind, what thou hath lost before. What say thee -
What, yet again? This chasm, 'tis too deep
To cross with words, to bridge with memory.
Thou means't much; say'st e'en less with words unlit -
Claim the world's brushstrokes, plant again thy means!
Cast away from Earth's polarized orbit
Stand far, stand still - hold this image for me.
What means't the sun? The light of warmth of light;
Means't the world tomorrow be not today bright?
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 11:04 AM UTC
She’d been my best friend in high school, marked by her pale skin, cynicism, and lovely smile. She was unique, hard edges softened by square teeth, arranged perfectly behind full lips.
It’s odd to think it’s only been year, now, her hair has been cropped short in the French style, her eyes hide behind enormous polarized aviators. Her navy tank top worn thin, bra straps exposed. Her jeans rolled short, revealing rubber flip-flops that’d been on her feet since high school. It felt strange, like I was seeing a relative I hadn’t seen since I was six. I could see her changes, taking them in as we made awkward conversation, free of the easiness we used to share. Something was off, and continued to pull my mind from the strained conversation. Just as she’s told me her aspirations of being a French major, I see it. The Hard “f” exposing what I was trying so desperately to find, it’s occurrence has impacted her gait, her presence, her attitude. Her teeth; now chipped, broken, browned. The vicious despair surrounding her started seeping in to my brain, my eyes, my teeth. I can’t resist the pull behind my eyes, drawing me back to the new-found flaw. The infallible feature I’d always expected, disfigured. Gone before I wanted to let go. My best friend finally exposed in front of me, no witty sarcasm and smile to hide behind. I couldn’t comprehend the context of the ruin. An abusive relationship? Drug Addiction?
A fall, certainly, farther and faster than I’d ever care to see. Harder and more dreadful than I’ll ever know. The fall the world can see, the tragedy only I can hear.
Jul 18, 2010
Jul 18, 2010 at 11:33 AM UTC