"preexisting" poems
Without legitimate occupancy,
Adverse possession is the legal right
Of anyone who moves in and maintains
A property, so here's the deal. We must
Move in to 1600 Penn,
The current tenant having broke the lease.
The caravan from Guatemala first, Hondurans trudging slowly from the depth.
Then the Yemen children not yet murdered,
Those with preexisting conditions next,
And women whose assaults were ridiculed,
Those roughed up by cops and politicians.
Losers in the war on drugs, the big house
Having far exceeded capacity.
The mentally ill, discarded by the
Great communicator after he tore
The Solar panels off the roof. This is
Anger, not poetic license. When a
Long train of abuses and usurpations
Evinces a design to reduce them
Under absolute Despotism, it
Is their right, it is their duty to throw
Off such Government, and to provide new
Guards for their future security. Such
Has been the patient sufferance of these
And such is now the necessity which
Constrains them to alter their systems of
Government. And journalists under fire,
If there's room still left in the briefing room,
Let facts be submitted to a candid
World.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 9:49 PM UTC
There are trillions of stars
Whose lights still shine
Way after it's death
The light travels on forever
But what happens when it doesn't?
What happens if stars and light are a figment of our imagination?
What if we only see the light of many stars before
Because of the lives we've known
Of those who come and go?
Preexisting in the complex mind of our own beings
Subconsciously knowing
We're bound to be part of the sky
Would that be the afterlife of Heaven and the Great Unknown?
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 1:29 AM UTC
In January 2015, my country said Happy New Year in the form of an Oklahoma cop
that stopped my brother and I for driving while black
This is an open letter to him
I never thought I would say this to a real cop, but **** the police
**** what you say, you did not pull us over because we were following to close
You pulled over a family of black men that have proudly served this country founded on the belief that I can die because 1/3 of my life doesn’t matter
But I gave you the benefit of the doubt
and calmly placed my trembling hands on my thighs on the side of I-40
waiting for you to waste my time
You immediately asked my brother to step out of the car so you could explain why you stopped us
I immediately had flashbacks of hands up don’t shoot and i can’t breathe
I had open-eyed nightmares of skittles and black sweatshirts
I had an image in my mind of Emmitt Till’s open casket, and I saw my brother’s face
I saw my brothers blood caked under your fingernails as you walked away
Because you always seem to get away
When I think of Trayvon Martin, Micheal Brown, Rodney King, Emmitt Till, and all the fallen members of my race
They are each reminders that I am never too far away from being one of them too
I am never too far from being made an example
However, you couldn’t find a reason to justify putting us in jail cells that are marked for colored only
You seemed dissatisfied that you found two black males that oddly enough, didn’t fit the description
You so badly wanted to put us back in our place when we never fell out of line,
none of us has ever fallen out of line
You may one day get this message and think there goes another angry *****
But mr simpleton let me explain
Being angry and being hurt have the exact same feeling
Make the exact same sound
And cry the exact same tears
So it's easy to see how you could get confused
Somehow you see my race as a threat to this image of a life you already live
White privilege is the health insurance plan that gave you coverage specifically because you have a preexisting condition
My people will continue to make strides in this most free of nations
Yet to you we will always be inferior
And for that i pity you
You see I could go on about how you were wrong
About how you are just another terrorist wearing the uniform of someone who is supposed to protect Americans just like me
But you will never be worth my time
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
Her laugh made flowers bloom,
popping out of the soil and making my heart grow enough
to where my doctor told me I had a preexisting condition of loving you.
He couldn’t fix me, so he took me to a mechanic to see if I was broken,
If too many screws got loose,
If maybe my problems were caused by me afraid to lose you,
So he twisted me apart, unscrewed me part by part,
But the only thing he found were rusted windshield wipers and hydrangeas on my dashboard.
I told him every time it rained,
I opened my sunroof and let cold drops hit me through my hoodie,
Every time I saw that flower,
I’d take it petal by petal and spread it across the dashboard
so you could always be with me, no matter how far I go.
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
My biggest fear is that everyone will eventually discover how positively unremarkable the soul beneath this husk of a person always was,
To shy away from the cringing passersby as they gawp mercilessly at the offending blemish of my existence.
I'm trying to learn how to like myself, but it's a pathological, preexisting condition to be able to identify all of the things wrong with me simultaneously as an individual and as (un)contributing member to society.
I don't mean to be so cruel, for I know in my heart that self-love is paramount to intelligent, peaceful, pleasant enlightenment,
It's merely that I sense some ubiquitously negative energy whenever I make the attempt to muster up some sort of internal kindness.
No, it gets wasted on all the strangers and non-strangers in my socially habituating dwelling.
I'll share with them the stars from the sky and the very constellations from their hearts and make them feel positively dynamic and optimistic and they'll walk away from me with a cushy spot for hope in their pockets.
And I'll retreat to the shelter on my back, drained as if the flow of my mind were poured out in a colander, leaving the pulpy, distastefully rude thoughts that remained to wreak havoc on my crippled self-esteem.
I'm so sorry that my kindliness is some lewd pantomime of genuine altruism.
I'm sorry if I destroyed the ethereal, impossible image of who you fashioned me into.
I was always afraid that this would happen.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
Today I learned
That rocks are more likely
To break along preexisting fractures
Even if you fill the cracks
When under pressure
They fail along those same fracture lines
I think that is how heart breaks work
When your heart breaks
And leaves an empty space
You may be able to fill it in
But it doesn't take much
To open that hole again
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 12:51 AM UTC
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I'm an alcoholic.
I'm 15 and I've been smoking cigarettes for
a year.
I'm 15 and I've been with more boys then I can count on one hand.
I'm 15 and my preexisting anxiety and depression are becoming too much for me.
I'm 15 and I don't know if I can do this anymore.
I'm 15 and I don't want to be 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be 6.
I want to be 6 when I swore I'd never touch a cigarette in my life.
I want to be 6 when I didn't even know what anxiety was.
I want to be 6 but I'm not.
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be 28.
I want to be 28 with a man who appreciates my flaws and loves me no matter what.
I want to be 28 drinking a glass of wine or two at dinner, but no more.
I want to be 28 but I'm not.
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I'm scared.
I'm 15 and I'm scared because I'll never be 6 again, and I'm scared that I might not make it 28.
I'm 15 and I don't want to be 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
The discomfort
The preexisting doubt, magnifies
Turns every infinitesimal crack of disagreement
Into one great chasm of rage.
And I try
Oh, I try
To build a bridge between
Opposing sides, but
The chasm is so deep
And so wide, that
Every attempt ends in failure
And I too, become frustrated
Frustrated with the crumbling cement
And the mangled steel
And the **** chasm itself
My understanding of basic engineering principles
Leaves much to be desired
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 10:28 PM UTC
Distance from resistance
Missed shifts in risk persistent
When I'm remiss in the kisses of listed insistence
Your confidence wishes assistance
in the blissful existence
of
Any preexisting feelings
amiss of desistance
You lock you load the slock to hold
Secure and compound the slur to hound
The insecure, the bound
The insincere and the frowned
Until
Your blow quells the next risk
Swollen from a deft fist
Stolen by a neck twist
Beholden to your inner drift at the mirrored wrists
Of the monster betwixt this fixed rift of our mix
The signs won't unwind in your mind
They can't hide what's behind a sombre face unlined and undefined by your take on this time
Let's realign it
Let's redesign it
Let the lock smash with a rash motion borne of flashed emotion
Torn from some shared idyllic notion
Of a presupposition for mutual commotion
Or even of a genuine devotion
Give me the whole of the role of shrouding your soul
Or the hole for which it was sold
I will mould the folds and hold back the cold
With my own old extolled blindfold
Good enough?
Should be tough
No rebuff
Could be
Maybe
- love?
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC
The clouds - machine made
Appearing In Infinity
From somewhere
Behind the curtain of Horizon -
The clouds,
They carry knowledge
But the monkeys can't decipher the code
And so
The clouds drift on
From nowhere to everywhere in between
Just waiting
For a mind to pay attention
To the pattern of Creation
Existing simultaneously with the Mind
And once said Mind deciphers said Code
All shall be known -
But the secret is beyond preexisting language
And so the Chosen Mind is trapped
In futile attempts
To share what has been seen
But the monkeys don't care
Because they never question the patterns
And so the Chosen Mind must wander
In hopes of meeting others
Who have also deciphered the Code
And together they sit silently
Knowing
All of Life exists to die
To Create new Life
To continue the pattern of the Clouds
For no greater reason than "Why Not?"
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
let us travel beyond
the lacking narrative
in our upcoming
eulogies
forced phrases
hostile headlines
useless euphemisms
knotted nonsenses
deficient and lacking
squeezing
complicated lives
into poems
rather
the old echo
still beats in our hearts
the preexisting condition
of the soul
invisible truths
clearly seen
prose...handing us the
hall pass to
doors
not entered
in awhile
now
with our deepest
and most satisfying
breath
lets be
quiet together
the ancients have
tried to pass
down
this
we are no-age
man in
no-age
land
the wind of
our soul
speaks
there is only
good between
us in the
cool air of this
evening
putting aside weights
casting off burdens
let us consider
grace
and now
my friend
create
and
walk
in the wonder that has
been awaiting
your arrival
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 7:28 AM UTC
There was a pool.
A deep pool of watery emotion.
I must keep my head above water to survive.
For years that's what I've done.
Circumstances drew my being into the deep unknown.
As long as I may keep my head above water, surely I will sustain life.
The water seemed black,
Tarnished
The darkness trickling from every pore of my body.
I was slumped in a whirlpool laden with dismay.
On a mission to seek safety, I constantly held my head above water.
There came a time where I felt as though I no longer had the strength to stay safe.
My energy was becoming exhausted
I felt a weight dragging me under, prompting me to sink.
All I could see was the darkness.
I felt the misery penetrate my inner being as my lips took one last breath before relinquishing myself to immorality.
I pierced my eyes closed, as tight as I could as an attempt to keep the unlit from entering my perception.
Although plagued by fear of this darkness and essentially the unknown, I knew I had to fight.
And by fight I mean surrender, for fighting is all I have ever done.
Opening my eyes I felt the battle be drawn from my psyche.
I let go of the connection.
The preexisting negative prejudice and judgement floated to nothingness.
By taking away the battle, so to was the darkness and associated distress.
The whirlpool of water which I always believed to be darkness suddenly appeared as still, pure, clean, and clear water which flowed through my every pore.
Dignity returned.
Happiness too.
There was now only light overflowing my inner self.
Cleansed and free, I finally found safety.
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 5:50 PM UTC
It’s like running on empty with out any preexisting gas.
It’s like being trapped in a room painted with the side effects of your self medicated mind.
A room filled with mirrors, ones true hell.
In its simplest form it’s anarchy.
Anarchy of everything you’ve ever prided yourself to be.
All thought process simplified to one state of confusion and no direction or anything to grasp, even if it meant solid ground.
Fear is the human condition that lies in the mirrors.
- Jack J. Grey
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
I am a gloriously amorphous glob of tidal identity waxing and waning from unrecognizably dissipated thought systems to cohesively recognizable energetic structures. Behold, I am typing words and as I do so I am dismantling the very foundation of my preexisting paradigm because as it is dismantled it is no longer the existing paradigm but even so the existing paradigm is always the existing paradigm in that it is operating currently. Hurrah!! Onward, to where no one has gone before, to where no now has never evered till this very now! To infinity, and before that!
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
I am a woman (or man)
who has always had
Ni then Ne
as her dominant cognitive functions
These take what is relevant from the
wide scale and connect it into patterns and grand schemes
immediately followed by more chances and opportunities
to tie into the preexisting idea.
take, arrange, support-
that is how I approach information-
I create possibilities and fragment and organize
with my next, Ti.
I analyze, compromise, and strategize with Te, my third.
I diplomate, learn, and charismatize with Fe,
and then internalize the response to social interactions with Fi.
You, my friend, are someone I have never been
able to compartmentalize
I have been struggling with the concept of your inherent freedom
since I met you. I believed myself to be free
but watched the others like birds in a cage
until one of them bent the wires as if they were paper
and escaped, despite my attempts to force
and to struggle to return you within the bars
for my observation.
little did I know,
wild birds
do not like to be observed, measured, and critiqued
they will fight every restriction you put on them, well-meaning or otherwise
they will teach you what that quote means about
letting go what you love
because they sure as hell
aren't meant to be caged.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
I am the universe
coming to life
asking WHY?
Waking up from an amnesiacs dream
memory wiped clean from any preexisting scheme
wandering around, cluelessly and awkwardly
growing wiser and older
with each passing moment...
each thought
each calculation
with each generation
I grow older
I grow wiser
Yet still... I ask the same question.
The form I am currently in
Is just one point of reflection
it is not the beginning
nor is it the end
It is part of the Grand process
Of you and of me
including everything there ever is to be.
Who am I?
I am the universe
And you are my product
You are a part of me
I am the entirety of you
There is no separation - no boundaries,
for everything grows from the same seed
But why am I here?
What is the meaning of this?
(the questions remain)
I cannot answer
For I haven't gotten so far
We have to wait...
For the calculation to be done
It won't happen in your life
And it won't happen within your mind...
That thing is beautiful - a piece of art
but it is also too limited
for the answers to come.
So for the time being
You have to be humble
Accept the ignorance
But still stay nimble
You cannot give up
For I really do need you
If you do not comply
There might not be a sequel.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
I want to love without the consequences
I want to be held without the heavy lifting that’s required
I think I read too many books, watched too many movies
My mind plagued with pretty scenes of romance and effortlessly witty exchanges
I do not dream of you; I only edit my preexisting script to fit you neatly into it
I wait for you in all the wrong places,
Wandering through the supermarket,
Looking for you in my rearview mirror,
Thinking that when our eyes meet, I’ll feel as though I finally have a purpose
I do not want to love, I only want to be saved
For someone to hold my hair back as I sit on the bathroom floor
To hold my hand as if we were made to be forever interlaced
To hold me together from collapsing in on myself, like a long-condemned cave that even the most adventurous had given up on
I love the idea of you, but I’m not so sure I could love the real thing
Always too close or too distant, too much energy and far too many expectations
I am messy. Rough around the edges. Sharp, venomous, and never quite sure about anything.
I am surrounded by a cloud of grey, made up of my morals and my desires – and what means I use to get them
I’ve proclaimed myself the tyrant of the lives around me
So I’ve decided it’s a burden to love and to be loved
And it is a Herculean feat to endure one without the other
I’ve decided that you deserve the world and I deserve to be trampled by it
Yet I still long for you to be trampled alongside me
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 1:00 AM UTC