"polarizing" poems
Maybe it's for you but not for me, but who knows?
When will the time stop and give way to the paradoxical space that will shove the soul out of its life, eventually?
Tend to think that the archetypal white collar worker is what you should be before you delve into the reality?
Jumped into the ripest chord of a void song, and you found nothing but truth and perplexity?
Threw yourself into the wilderness but you are still deprived of happiness, only peace, filled with emptiness?
Crashed the mental into bi-polarizing set of uncertainty and sanity, driving everything towards the ravine of confusion and misinterpretation?
Dropped the last sweat of joy and contentment before you discover the eventuality, pessimistic value of the whole context?
Until the ultimate full stop appears, will you understand what is the whole story is all about?
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 6:56 AM UTC
.
i want to buy these mice a home so
that their presence helps keep the table clear
i think i’ll place it in the gap between the door and the floor
in the hopes of keeping the noise out and
of having at least one of us feel
a sense of being welcome
the paper bags in my hands wouldn’t feel
heavy if they knew where they were going maybe
and hitting my head against the bed again doesn’t stop me from
showing off the letters on my chest although
i’ve been known to miss the mark
if there's a spark in her eyes it’s 'cause she stole the light from mine
but i like the cold because it makes me feel alive
my favorite part comes around
when the two trains meet and for a second
i can catch a glimpse of everyone’s place in the world
before we’re whisked away to
our respective loneliness
or maybe it’s where the streets
run narrow like those in the places where
connection, if anything, tastes a bit more genuine
it's quite polarizing but this time i’ll seek
comfort in the grey of it until it
all comes rushing back
they say home is where the heart is so this probably still isn’t it
but it will do for now
.
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 8:09 AM UTC
"Contentment is a synonym for loneliness, cool loneliness, settling down with cool loneliness. We give up believing that being able to escape our loneliness is going to bring any lasting happiness or joy or sense of well-being or courage or strength. Usually we have to give up this belief about a billion times, again and again making friends with our jumpiness and dread, doing the same old thing a billion times with awareness. Then without our even noticing, something begins to shift. We can just be lonely with no alternatives, content to be right here with the mood and texture of what’s happening."
"it allows us to finally discover a completely unfabricated state of being. Our habitual assumptions — all our ideas about how things are — keep us from seeing anything in a fresh, open way… We don’t ultimately know anything. There’s no certainty about anything. This basic truth hurts, and we want to run away from it. But coming back and relaxing with something as familiar as loneliness is good discipline for realizing the profundity of the unresolved moments of our lives. We are cheating ourselves when we run away from the ambiguity of loneliness."
"Cool loneliness allows us to look honestly and without aggression at our own minds. We can gradually drop our ideals of who we think we ought to be, or who we think we want to be, or who we think other people think we want to be or ought to be. We give it up and just look directly with compassion and humor at who we are. Then loneliness is no threat and heartache, no punishment. Cool loneliness doesn’t provide any resolution or give us ground under our feet. It challenges us to step into a world of no reference point without polarizing or solidifying. This is called the middle way, or the sacred path of the warrior."
by Pema Chodron from "When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advise for Difficult Times"
Mar 28, 2023
Mar 28, 2023 at 6:17 AM UTC
There is an electric hum from traffic lights
Barely audible to the people waiting at the corner
Overwhelmed with confusion over the former
Condition of the economy in spite
Of the surplus of traffic signs
So they stare at traffic signs
The signs don’t mind
They stare right back and watch and contemplate crossing, too
But the signs will stay behind
Because people go
As they please
Under an ashy sky
And flickers
Of lightning
Appearing in the clouds
Consider the aerodynamics of taxicabs
You wish humans were so streamlined and yellow
We’re not so bad!
Said a fellow
Accountant using an algebraic formula to attempt to derive
Why you smile for us and I’ve
Noticed, though no one else has, the electric storm churning
Miles above
Polarizing the sky
In silence
They tremble, these, the not-so-poor
It’s that fearful tic, the one we’ve seen before
But you tremble, too
Do you see me quiver
We’ve got that quick jitter
Like a prickling under the skin that’s pulsing through
Our blood the way that caffeine does
Or the wattage exploding in death throes or birth throes
Above us now
Hypnotic
And powerful
Though I cannot tell
Exactly how far away
Aug 1, 2010
Aug 1, 2010 at 3:08 PM UTC
You're so dangerous with your profane paraphernalia
Your pelvis postures pandering favor
The line of your stomach embossed by the fire is like a pasture for me
So paranoid with your pacifistic lust
As you proceed to please me with your posture so slightly
And I attempt to pursue oh so politely
You make me perk up like a peacock just with one peak
You're aware of every petty palpitation you can feel just under my sleeve
You play me like a piano, so plush with your lust politics
Pandering for a pardon of my ***** talk poignancy
I part you like Pluto from your orbits serene hum
I'll pleasure you, pleasure you until you're purple like a plum
A pastimes poetises to be written with pleasing lead
You plan every move like a predator in my bed
You're polarizing, plump, and pampered like a pageant doll
Pilfering every plausible pause with a pose of voice, your moan
Seizing the post with your post - modern pompous pouncing
Prompted like Pisces to postulate your prognosis
Lifting your posterior like the pun of a phaliccy
Pillaging me like a pandemic, a plague
Something to be paraded by paganistic plauds
Your pale skin is like playwear for sins
You're pinning me plastered with the play of your grin
Such a pretty motion picture to paint in the prison of your promise
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
I am
a companion for life
committed to relations bounded only by time
for those who understand the value of friendship
undaunted by materialistic wealth
indifferent to titles or social status
seeking the merits of sincere character
I am
an enemy’s worse nightmare
constantly awakening from deadly encounters
sometimes wounded severely
close to being a casualty of others
but never surrendering and admitting defeat
even against overwhelming odds
I am
a passionate endeavor
submerged feelings awaiting release
to confound then arouse the senses
beyond current reality to transcend the cosmos
caressing the lips of blissful insanity
only to curse rational existence
I am
a subconscious dream
desperate to escape a conventional life
surrounded by negative forces
polarizing insecurity and apprehension
with false vigor and zeal
until the images become unclear
I am
a loner with fortitude
destined to follow an unknown destiny
with so many cunning predators lurking
ready to end the journey and make it the last
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me".
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 10:35 PM UTC
It's yet another virginal autumn
sliding through the
core of my esophagus,
the most bitter medication,
and the healthiest
to some "He" I've never met.
Let us all take a gander
at the undersexed ice queen,
turning his moans
into a frostbitten cackle
heard far past his grave
crafted with the polarizing
limestone of unintentional cynicism.
He sits at the bumper
of your public transportation system,
perfectly positioned in the middle,
so he can play God,
he jokes!
But it's because he loves people watching.
People watching
is not
people knowing;
people watching
is not
people loving.
Judgmental
is a barrier
same as those
elementary PSAs
about saying no to
strangers, also known as
creepy men with toupees
in decades-old station wagons;
these filthy humans,
all know that man,
all are his children,
all his faithful followers,
his filthy, faithful followers,
no sensual thoughts
will creep into my untouched oats
this grimy morning!
I will never
have dreams
in warm Equator-creeping nights
of making friction with their flesh,
even the boy,
the beautiful boy
standing savagely
on this public bus,
making the waves
pumping through this contraption
that makes up my frame
no longer stagnant,
rabid with the saliva
begging to drop
to commemorate
my loss for words
and my panting
need
for action.
His body is eternally dripping
with the juice of a hard man's labor
luminous vibrance through the skin,
the power of the Latin sun
in the drops of salt running
all the way
down his body
and I feel myself
recording his existence,
no name needed,
just his face
and body
in this rhythmic Orlando morning.
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:52 AM UTC
I have written poems about rising.
It’s a good subject for poets.
Isn’t a poem itself a rising?
We spend much time revising
what we write and what we do.
There are so many good words ending in izing.
I could write a whole poem
using words symbolizing
so much of life -
it’s absolutely tantalizing.
I watch and read about all the polarizing.
It is a cool oasis lingering here
synchronizing
my words with my feelings and thoughts
realizing the heart of who I really am
comprising ways of saying my truth
without moralizing.
At times it is agonizing -
all this analyzing
how I belong and how I don’t
if I’ll join others or if I won’t.
I look at that guy Jesus
and how so many obsess
about his blood and sacrifice
all the while not recognizing
it’s not so much about our sins
and his need to atone as it is
about the good he did
who he sat with and loved,
the seeds he sowed
who he stopped to touch
on the side of the road.
I find obsessions with power
really unappetizing.
I’d rather spend my time rising
from darkness into light
or embracing my sadness, exercising
and emphasizing what is energizing.
When I do that, it is quite surprising
how creative my muse is helping ME
to also rise.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
We felt the wistfulness and urging
Somewhere in the pale light
Slanting across our bodies
Submerged in a bed that smelled of our discarded childhoods
Tasted of our desperation and craving for love
Devoid of anything saccharine, bitter in the aftertaste
In the early morning I laid there, on top of you
Warmth trailing from your body,
Snaking across the smooth planes of my stomach
You cradling me like I wished my father could have
Fingers threading through my hair
Untangling the knots from my childhood
You spoke into my hairline,
Christened yourself repeatedly on my skin
Your voice was a Freudian call
Above the dirge of angry tidal water
Echoing from the corpses of our past
We felt the wistfulness and urging
Somewhere in the pale light
Slanting across our faces
Verdant green of your eyes hypnotizing me
I splayed my fingers against your chest
Felt your ****** harden against the soft pad
I remembered the taste of sweet tomatoes, plump, ripe
Bursting juice onto my tongue
Coffee-soaked ladyfingers
Dappled sunlight streaming through leaves
Blue cloudless sky
Peals of youthful laughter
The smell of your mother's car—Pine Air Freshener
Her rosary swaying back and forth
A religious sacred pendulum
We felt the wistfulness and urging
Somewhere in the duller light
Slanting across our skin
Our contrasting polarizing canvases
We mourned each other in our brokenness
And in the pale evening,
Tried to assemble our skeletons back together
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 12:43 PM UTC
I did not know your eyes were blue
Small suns ring your pupils
perihelion
As you come closer
You become significant
light blurs my vision
Polarizing sun
Perpendicular conscience
Horizontal will
~~~
Eyes wide
Ingenue again
You make my toes curl
~~~
Apollo is come
Dionysus cuts loose
Cassandra moans
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
More moisture helps
the ******* of dirt
become a purification element.
The hydro-logic behind that
is completely fluid
and misunderstood.
Water is much like a brain—
it makes these connections
between polarizing elements
that will take eons
to arrive at a universal understanding
of how or why they were made.
As poets we work with the earth
to try and make sense of things—
like why exactly the purest form
of water is shed from the soil
that springs with infinite life.
The single most important aspect
of connections that contribute
to the everlasting growth of meaning
is that it's right beneath our feet,
which is probably why we
continually walk right over it.
What springs from the soils surface
is a constant cycle
of unearthing meaning.
Which is why there will never be
a shortage in the supply
of what provides us with life.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
History is being made right before us and all you can contribute is contempt? Since when have we all become so polarizing? There has never been a civilization not built on war.
I'm all for mind over matter,
but If all lives matter?
than please respect mine
Show admiration not shame
Because they aren't to blame
It's hard to remain sane and ignore
When every month it rains and it pours
They see looting and dysfunction
I see grouping and discussion
Anger is no way to communicate
But it's the best commute to irate
I'm all for mind over matter
But if all lives matter?
Than I don't care whose
Business you mind
Just as long as you
Don't mind mine.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
So i am the polarizing figure because I like to be honest with the ones i care about
You see sometimes the truth does hurt because your idea of IT makes me sick you see i am not the typical guy
You see i am a nice guy yes but trust me there's another side of me due to emotions far from my control is that i care to much
You see i do not care if my chances are far to slim i am the polarizing figure because no one has the guts
to speak out against the forces holding people like me down you see some people channel it through Cutting violence , and attempting to make themselves worthless you see we are not worthless THEY are worthless
Because I am something else i am not the Guy i been told that because of some plague i was born with i
can not do certain things by my own freaking mother you see i say game on because i can be the most
relentless guy on the planet and as i channel my feelings toward that special girl in my heart you see why
I am polarizing you see i guess being kind to others does not cut it being a sweet gentle being does not cut it. so call me what you want because do not expect a fight out of me
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
I've always thought it a bit cruel that
my mother named me Trista Joy.
Doomed to a fate of being pulled,
polarizing at two ends of the spectrum of emotion.
Smacked into the middle of a war
that has been waged for thousands of years.
Millions of lives lost to both happiness and sadness.
A walking contradiction can only move about in one way.
Circling what I thought I knew, and what really is.
Am I meant to be extreme in expression,
ferociously flippant from side to side?
Was I born without the ability to reach the medium?
A children's movie once taught me that
happiness cannot exist without sadness,
and in that I often find solace.
But I live in a world where people run, fight, and hide
from half of what I am, and obsessively strive for the other.
It gets exhausting, suppressing the spring loaded spirit that is being sad.
Happiness can only hold its ground for so long.
It's great to meet you, I'm Sad Joy Sullivan.
Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 3:04 AM UTC
Behave, my heart
you skip, jolt,
race
catching up with
the speed of light
you and your
weak faith, and
your strong
predilection towards
fear and worry
You are ferocious,
unrelenting
both quick and false
bitter and
remorseful
believing and
disbelieving
polarizing
hypocritical
and sad
running,
always
running away
stealing my breath
away
God is engineering
your every beat
He owns you
You are borrowed from
Him
So go on, heart,
do what you want,
bolt,
gallop,
fly,
and sprint.
But be joyous
in your every erratic,
wild beat.
And only pump life
and faith
and wisdom.
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 11:51 PM UTC
Divinity,
literally meaning "A godlike state of being"
So when it is questioned,
where is your divinity?
All that needs to be remembered is that we are god like,
we were made from the bones of the Earth
and became the protectors of this domain.
not that we've done the best at protecting it up till now
We were born within divinity,
and the only time the God Light stops shining upon us
is when we forget how divine We really are.
And it never really stops shining,
we just turn our faces to the darkness.
Divine is taking two parts of the whole and joining them together at last.
the Divine Male and the Divine Female,
have we all just assumed that they use this word for the funsies?
HA!
Togeather the two halves make the whole of our beings,
creating the 'godlike' selves incarnated upon the physical plane.
For when we are within the in between,
we can freely choose the *** of the next body,
meaning that we are sexless entities,
with that balance within our souls
that fill us with the life force of the Gods!
We are free to sway to and frow
within this omnipresent universe,
but are still capable of taking form,
and polarizing to one *** or the other.
Well, most of us that is ;D
As long as no part of us is trapped within denial,
denial of the self,
of the other,
and of our own Divinity on this plane of being.
We must embrace the Mother within us,
as well as the Father within us,
and then we shall understand the Yin and the Yong,
Black and White,
Space and Light.
We will be able to open the Space for the true Light to come through us,
filling the Void that is the Mother.
beauty radiating and reflecting from our eyes into one anothers',
and then we will understand love.
And we will finally be able to look into each others eyes,
and see ourselves for the first time
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
I climb on a seafoam mattress, baby breath puke green and of the lyrics he scripts, they swim across your sea-like covers. He loves my lost mind as though the puzzle of me hummed to him as my thighs rode across his blanketed scene. I hated him and his laundry list of post-consumerism articles that he'd spout off one after the other. He checks me off like his last bought pair of socks and hung me from around his neck and so I bled like a wasted pen blemishes, down to the front seat of his pants. The stress of him rests in the nook of my shoulder blades and vibrates through to my chest. Blue dream and acidically-tinged hazes ripple against my reptilian skin and sheds me time and time again. I cannot grow old with you or young with you. We are alone an together, unmoving and polarizing. A few cool blue specks of light that never change but appear to mean to. We are in lust and stagnantly so, we will never grow. I climb on a sea of green and wade into the late night streamings, the abyss of you.
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 1:57 PM UTC
you're like a lunar eclipse
alluring
giving off this feeling of
energy
polarizing -
are we alive?
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
inverse my talent
to let go and
be what i'm not.
transverse my axle
and you'll find
a kind of heaven
greasing the pole.
what speaks without words
always, a riddle
unto itself.
the tree of life
is laughing exaltations
in polarizing resplendence.
bright bones are
jubilantly marching
ever deeper into the
triumphant unknown.
we are woven with
mystery, riding waves
of inherited momentum
on a sea of uncertainty.
ex mysterium, ad mysterium
and don't forget about
the punchline -
flatline...
Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 10:51 AM UTC
Slow snowflakes descend upon socializing howls,
full moons rise and shine beneath mobilizing howls.
Skittish eyes, fretful feet fear the hour of the hunt:
sure doom orchestrated by synchronizing howls.
Savanna pride is tantamount to sylvan shame,
wisdom and madness therein polarizing howls.
There is hierarchy in this night dynasty
survival, the common cause organizing howls.
A laughing wolf is very charming amongst them
what does not fear makes stranger, mesmerizing howls.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 1:15 PM UTC
It has been 20 something years.
And on a single day within layers of hours.
I've felt a shrug for the first time.
Like pins on the pillow you have
left behind when all the dust have settled.
The ball has dropped. A million times.
And then some.
And on a slope slippery and distinctly
overwhelmed.
I've felt a beat within my rib-cage
slightly loud that it has shaken me
in sleep.
The dust you have left to shrivel
still dances around my plethora
of emotions, unsettled.
And, I'm standing here, surrounded by
what could have been
but should have never been.
Saved by frantic clicks
on a keypad. Typing into the existential
delusions of your listless memories.
I have stood here, unshaken, by the mistakes
we have accumulated down the polarizing roads.
And the dainty trickling down the drain.
I am standing and withstanding
a shootout of the most frivolous nature.
Like the pins striking this pillow
in a poetic wave of dissonance.
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
It came In waves.
Only when triggered.
I need to learn restraint.
Self-restraint.
Emotional restraint.
🩶
My sails are torn;
scratched and worn.
I’m impulsive.
My character is polarizing.
Calm or extreme.
There is no in between.
Love me, hate me, take your pick.
But I promise you.
I’m not one to forget.
🩶
Jun 4, 2025
Jun 4, 2025 at 2:22 AM UTC
You made me question my beliefs
in atoms and space and the way things were made,
because the Big Bang is not as lovely
to rest my head upon as your chest was.
And to me
you have both been
beautiful and polarizing and destructive;
so strange and so important;
and
Where I Came From.
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC