"realties" poems
Joshua tree
Across the high California desert you stand with lifted salutation off the beaten path the drift
Of sea moisture mingles with tule fog rising from the desert floor you have briefly entered an alien
World a brooding connection develops with London’s fog shrouded streets or the Arden with its
Identification with It being the one natural barrier to the advancing Roman’s might and Shakespeare’s
Play the woods for him was familiar but a place where change to ones fortune could occur and one
Could find love mist is one of the times that a magic wand was effectively waved it produced a myriad
Of realties notable connections a display that reaches the far borders of wonder pleasantness infringes
On the harder order of the desert’s hotter principles farther east the great desert sentry looms above
All else the saguaro cactus also raises its arms as the Joshua giving thanks for life in a stark and
Burdensome land rock and scrub fills this place it takes time to appreciate such bitter circumstances
But you can sink thoughtful roots that will play a symphony between sun and shadow and all the living
Things that eke out a living there are a breed of people that thrive here also they can teach a lot to
Others live on less you would be amazed how refreshing simple living can be get to much you find
Fun squeezed out of the seams of the so called good life just think in this term when does water taste
Like heavenly nectar when you have been deprived and are at a loss to find it the abundance of anything
Can temper its value death swiftly occurs when the spirit of taking things for granted pervades those
Times that are riveting and create completeness in us are by nature rare and treasured you don’t have
To trek to far off deserts or faraway places a child’s youthful smile that is slipping away When tenderness flows and she makes your heart glow know my friend you are blessed with God’s best for all of earths time a husbands
Gentle laugh his look that stirs you deeply these are but three of rarified finds that are in your life
Enjoy treasure them they are personal gifts you possess today
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 6:51 PM UTC
And the clock aligned, hands pointing
To that moment,
The moment,
When the veil softened
Pliable,
Torn,
Reality,
Was of all and both, secreted
Upon the evitable realities,
They made there moves, limited
Moments upon an unsuspecting
Existence, But they were misguided
That even though they came through
A
Full
Moon
Shined upon them, much like the sun
The light of that upon high,
They scurried to that point,
To that place,
Moments past
And new statues were adorned upon
Grass,
Tree's,
Ground,
They were frozen, living stone
As night gave in to light,
For there are safe guards of old,
When time became fluid,
Barriers between realities sewed
Into the universes fabric, to Keep
Each safe from prying
Dimensions
Realities
Empty,
Places where darkness waits,
"And so on this night where moments aligned"
"If you see statues erected when none before"
"Thinking of them as art"
Know the veil was weakened by this night
But the universe righted this wrong, before chaos
Ruled and realties were once again sewed tight..
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 8:57 AM UTC
Time aged in millenniums breath, eternities
Upon it did the juncture's of a breach offer
A glimpse in others minds of reality's thoughts.
Whirlpools of confused visons, then calm.
To walk on the moments of each surge that
Washed upon realties exhalation. I talked to
Younger versions and like a paradox, repeated
Reflections I saw ourselves in memory and word.
There is an etched pathway of conscious thought
With each decision does a new pool open its
Moment creating fresh essence now as the other
But diverged time is a ripple that always falls.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 6:11 PM UTC
The invisible hand that stretches across
Oceans and barbed wire boundaries
Has more fingers than the streams of light that cascade
from the heavens into the dark recesses
of your magnificence.
There are moments when all seems lost
But the shadow of darkness is dispelled
And replaced by this glimmer of hope
That softly and subtly invades
Your magnificence
Even as we explore the faint avenues
That wound their way into our consciousness
We clearly seem to understand how our journeys
Criss-crossed over exotic landscapes
And stark desolate realties
To merge into a moment of mystery.
We have finally met.
Now more human than before
The pages of our past turn slowly
The notes we compare are cryptic and careless
But what we share seems to have been sculpted
By the same pen filled with the same ink of wisdom.
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 3:33 PM UTC
What we had didn't matter to me.
Didn't mean anything to me.
Without you I feel free.
Your touch of my skin didn't make me feel.
Because I knew it wasn't real.
You're nothing to me.
The words you said didn't captivate me.
Enamor me.
It was just an act,
I'm sure you'll agree.
You were just a game to play.
A heart to betray.
You're worthless to me.
You're a ghost to me.
At most you'd be,
nothing more than
a mind to ****
A stupid schmuck.
Sorry.
Sorry.
I just needed to lie for a second.
Because my lies are your realties.
I'm done with the formalities.
It hurts. Because I cared and shared
all that was the mess of me with
somebody as unworthy as you
because I thought I knew
who you were and your intent with my heart.
I should've seen from the get that I was
just another
twit you could mold and fool.
I'm sorry.
I just need to lie again.
For a moment.
I'm fine now.
I'm strong now.
It doesn't hurt.
I'm moving on.
I'm better off.
I feel alive.
I'll be okay.
Sorry.
Sorry.
I just need to lie for a second.
I'm glad we had it.
I don't regret it.
I'm glad I opened up.
I'm glad I shared my trust.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry for the lies.
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
Recording that of which time was spent,
It must be stated with some lament,
Mankind was never prepared for that
Which they saught so vehemently sat,
Upon the throne of their own faults,
Theology differentiated by default,
And by which we would derive
The definition of demise.
-
Annihilate me through my own inner goals,
And press upon my morals once told,
To keep my kin so lively and free,
Rid them of their depraved disease,
The freedoms and liberties of once passed down,
Caress the minds of a generation endowed,
Subject to sin and objectification,
Of an overly popular, judgmental nation,
An internal strife "To thineself always be true"
Yet knowing not what realties imbue,
Distressed, ingested ideals are formed
And peaceful requisitions are abhorred,
Selection is distraught and vague,
Left frustrated are those who live for today,
I must comment, request, and repent
That in honor of life, meaning is spent,
Lifeless are we, all left longing,
Know that in this life, there is nothing.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 2:41 AM UTC
Sorry no poetry today!
We’ll try again.
Weeks pass. Nothing to say-
is it not yet thought of-
sprouting, not yet budded.
We treat the sprout
the radicle deepens
budding begins
we have a seedling
on the rise.
This is the poem-
You sit there and wonder
what a wonderful change.
From ignorance of beginnings
to glorious realization:
The menthol Newport n our hands,
Orion overhead, dull street lights,
smoke from our lungs distorting the lake.
I wonder what it is like-
Like what?
how the world looks,
through your eyes.
I see playfulness
my imagination runs rampant,
merging realties to become-
surreal. I disrupt the compliant
by paving the roads with
trees of broccoli-
So that is your world-
we share the desire,
to glorify our imaginations
surrealism you say-
romanticism I suggest.
I have to tell you.
I do hate broccoli.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
They were always within each's grasp hand in hand
Sewn in eternity twine. Wondering the forsaken road
Of deadwood fences,they were a distortion of the before
When they weren't always observing in sight upwards.
Blurred realties of gazing on the paradox of what they
Always walked towards. These two little ones so tiny
In stature but heavy in soul. One would not leave the
Others needing, to never letting each go.
Perpetually stagnant on this long road, no crossroads
To change views. But still they look up in blurred necessity.
They still want to walk in hand, sewn to each others
Path, and so they dwindle into the distance Never letting go
Each other yearning upon the others palm, just two little ones
On the path of deadwood with fields of plentiful nothing.
Distorted they look up to vacant spaces where they wish to
Be, but walk dirt roads that never end within each others hand.
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 4:32 PM UTC
I was a mosaic collected
in scratched nails
imbedded, bleeding
like I was meant to be touched
but can you really grasp a reflection..
How could you identify what
I see, within the fallen feathers
of a crows smiles.
I'm hidden within,
a pile of dead bones wishing to fly again.
I could walk within the footsteps of those
in front of me on calm sands.
But I choose to run on
a beach of shattered shells, this is life!
broken dreams never really washing away.
I see smiles kept aloft by matchsticks,
ready to ignite.
Within there embers embracing the true
reflection of how I see others.
Parched realties of never really loving you
or another for the failures of there integrity.
I could love,
in blindness.
But what is seen is nothingness..
I could love,
in thought.
But memories will always lie to oneself.
I could have love,
in myself.
But nothing ever comes from that..
Until I realize that I'm not in control
of this collage of moments.
I'm a Paper-Mache,
randomly collecting on a frame work
of contemplation, that I will only
see on the completion of my life.
I'm but a part that I thought was
irrelevant, immaterial.
But I'm just a piece of life collecting on
the shattered shells slowly reforming to
realize there is more to life than sandy shores.
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
The core of your emotionally charged vibration gives me shivers,
then evens me out, like an illegal drug shocks the system.
You calm me down like a deep ****** after an exhausting ********** primal event!
I can’t say when, why, or the exact moment in time,
when you entered into my solitary world.
I can’t seem to let this go, the feeling of passion, the warmth of unity,
the wholesome finality of not feeling alone.
I don’t want to wake from my fragmented sleep,
because I feel you deeper when my eyes are closed.
I know it takes time and patience to hone in on what you feel.
I’ve waited so long for this slow dance to happen,
and I’m not about to give up now.
You make me feel like a female dragon in ****** heat,
expelling thunder like an old-time flashcube, dancing within my murky emotions.
Brandy filled chocolate covered cherries; melt from the heat inside of me,
Intoxicating the alcoholic burn on my tongue.
You’ve become a distillery of thoughtful contentment, that slowly releases
a flowing continuum of deliberate desires.
I’ve had some ups and I’ve had some downs, when it comes
to relationships and emotional intensities.
The air around you have pierced my reality and rebuilt the broken
chambers of my heart.
Feelings have been set free, with re-deposits of evaporated pain;
changing charged up devotions into kinetic realties.
My Mister Devine you bring out my divinity,
from the safety of your embrace to the finesse of your masculinity.
Jan 15, 2021
Jan 15, 2021 at 2:26 PM UTC
by Ryan P. Kinney
This is a dream I had the night of May 27, 2013.
The dream opens to me in a booth at a restaurant with an unknown faceless female friend. I begin to notice at other booths across me a single woman sitting in several different booths. I slowly begin to realize that all of these woman look like Lisa, although each unique and different. These very similar women were sitting by themselves, and freaking out people around them with how similar they looked. I instantly rationalize that they are all Lisa’s from alternate realties, different possibilities of what they could be.
I am talking with my friend as I notice these women. My friend gets up to go to the bathroom and I approach these Lisa’s, addressing them all at once. I ask them to join me at my table (there are 3 of them that I can identify, but my mind told me there were 3 more there, a total of 6). They all come to my booth without a word, as though they were expecting this. I bring them to my table and add a chair for my friend at the end. The friend never returns and despite my mind telling me there were 6 Lisa’s, there was only space for 3 of them. They sit down.
One Lisa is very similar to mine, although very thin and pale. Another Lisa is rather chubby. A third Lisa sits down a few minutes after the others. She returned in place of my former friend. She was dressed in cyber goth clothing with black contacts that made her pupils appear to be constricted solid black circles. I exclaimed, “Ooo, there’s a goth Lisa.”
I addressed the Lisa most like mine and began asking her questions to gauge how like mine she was, almost suspecting that she was. The only question I can remember was, “What kind of car do you drive?” She told me a story about her white car, but I cannot remember the details. I told her the story of my breakup with my Lisa. Somewhere in the conversation I grabbed the thin Lisa’s wrist and she asked me, “Do you want to break that wrist?” I asked, “Problems with an eating disorder?” She nodded.
The chair at the end of the booth remained empty.
I awoke…
Maybe I shouldn’t drink before bed.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 9:18 PM UTC
The invisible hand that stretches across
Oceans and barbed wire boundaries
has more fingers than the streams of light that cascade
from the heavens into the darker recesses
of your magnificence.
There are moments when all seems lost
but the shadow of darkness is dispelled
and replaced by this glimmer of hope
that softly and subtly invades
your magnificence
Even as we explore the faint avenues
that wound their way into our consciousness
we clearly seem to understand how our journeys
criss-crossed over exotic landscapes
and stark desolate realties
to merge into a moment of mystery.
We have finally met.
Now more human than before
the pages of our past turn slowly
the notes we compare are cryptic and careless
but what we share seems to have been sculpted
by the same pen filled with the same ink of wisdom.
Author Notes
for MJH. Thank you.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
Porcelain features woven
in satin smiles.
Suppressing realties undertones,
cracks eventually appearing.
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 4:10 AM UTC
Spiraling
inward.
Deep
dive to
a different
place.
An infinite
place.
Designed
for purpose.
Leaving
one for
the next.
Fractal
trajectory.
Never ending.
One way
for another.
Write
new rules
for new
realties.
Endless
vistas to
explore.
Infinite
existence
to do so.
On the
edge.
Currently
on the
edge
of the
next
great leap.
Melding
technology,
human
redesign.
Leaving
current
creation
behind.
Jan 18, 2023
Jan 18, 2023 at 10:18 PM UTC
The rain isn’t just for you
The sun doesn’t belong to me
We all grow from the same root
Planted in the soil beneath our feet
Though our flower may look different
It requires the same life necessities
In order to flourish, live and thrive
No matter how different we try to be
Separation and division
Are man made realties
Sometime we just need to close our eyes
To blind us from these casualties
And prevent our heart from hardening
From the perception casted by falsities
Because the human truth is
We will all struggle to prosper in some way
If we don’t rally around community
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 8:30 AM UTC