"rearranging" poems
On the stiff twig up there
Hunches a wet black rook
Arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain.
I do not expect a miracle
Or an accident
To set the sight on fire
In my eye, nor seek
Any more in the desultory weather some design,
But let spotted leaves fall as they fall,
Without ceremony, or portent.
Although, I admit, I desire,
Occasionally, some backtalk
From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain:
A certain minor light may still
Lean incandescent
Out of kitchen table or chair
As if a celestial burning took
Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then --
Thus hallowing an interval
Otherwise inconsequent
By bestowing largesse, honor,
One might say love. At any rate, I now walk
Wary (for it could happen
Even in this dull, ruinous landscape); skeptical,
Yet politic; ignorant
Of whatever angel may choose to flare
Suddenly at my elbow. I only know that a rook
Ordering its black feathers can so shine
As to seize my senses, haul
My eyelids up, and grant
A brief respite from fear
Of total neutrality. With luck,
Trekking stubborn through this season
Of fatigue, I shall
Patch together a content
Of sorts. Miracles occur,
If you care to call those spasmodic
Tricks of radiance miracles. The wait's begun again,
The long wait for the angel,
For that rare, random descent.
18k
OCD is not all about remembering the freckles on her cheeks or telling her I love you repetitively
OCD is waking up at 2 in the morning after you have spent hours trying to delude yourself into thinking that your hands are clean only to end up in your washroom trying to rub your skin off.
(all because a stranger touched me on the sidewalk a month ago)
OCD is being in an abusive relationship with yourself. Your logic won't let you give in, but like a desperate lover, your OCD won't let you go. So you keep swinging, tick tock, to and fro, like the broken clock in the store room you can't get yourself to throw out because it belonged to your nana.
OCD is not finally finding a peace of moment when he looks at you but it is biting your teeth into your lips trying to hold in the cringe when he carelessly wipes his greasy hands on the napkin. "Don't complain, don't complain" you mutter to yourself as you throw a hand sanitiser his way.
(please don't leave me)
OCD is rearranging the pictures frame on the shelf for the fifteenth time a day because last time your brother interrupted you and so you might as well start again. OCD is the worry in your mum's eyes as she invites the guests to show them your room while she keeps throwing you cautious glances as someone touches your books.
(I'm sorry, ma. I can't help it)
OCD is reading the same line again and again, a part of your brain asks you why since you got it right the first time. You don't know why, but you keep doing it just to be sure. Check the door if it's locked properly before sleeping. Once, twice, thrice till it's morning already and it's time to wake up.
(another sleepless night, God **** it)
OCD is all these fuzzy voices mixed around with the signals from your brain telling you that your life will fall apart, if, just for this once, you do anything different.
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 3:34 AM UTC
I swore that I knew you
just like the back of my hand
every blemish, every freckle,
every scar, was you
But now
My blemishes begin to even out
My freckles, rearranging themselves
And any old scars are fading.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
In the old house up the hills -
Yes, the one that gives you chills
Whenever you walk by its fence -
Lives someone who, no offense,
Looks like she'd puts kids on grill.
Children, puppies, all she'd ****
For food.
Lady who, probably, likes to
Know the places each kid hikes to.
There she, later in the day,
Waits for village kids to stray.
Some will die and some live on.
Who? That really depens on
Her mood.
Some say that she used to snitch,
Others say that she's a witch!
Nobody was ever in
The house whose walls are made of skin.
Nobody would ever dare
To set their foot on the porch where
She stood.
They'll never know that her kitchen
Smelled like flowers, most bewitchin',
They won't see her paintings, neat,
Her living room where you could meet
A fire giving warm embrace.
And alongside her fireplace
The wood.
Now, if you got in, you'd stare
on stinky fish bowls, everywhere,
whose cloudy water calls for changing,
and rooms in need of rearranging.
But since you never really tried,
No one knows the lady died.
Yes she's dead for good.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
I'm so grateful I could die
And then I'd be the Grateful Dead
For every Touch of Grey
You erase
And paint intricate beauty I cannot equivocate
The enigma of your mind
Matches the confusion in my heart
What's the point of talking to someone
if you know what they're thinking?
I enjoy the intense haze
Of your rearranging maze
It's complexity fascinates me
Some of my favorite moments are when
I laugh hysterically as the tears fall down
And you're there
To hit my waterfall with your lightning
My emotions get so charged
As you pump electricity into my current
Making you the conductor
On this lifelong train ride
That's definitely been through some valleys and tunnels
But as we continue to scale this mountain
Negative thoughts can creep in
I wonder if you're disgusted by me
Or what you'd call me if you hated me
And as the tears fall down
I look to the heavens
And laugh hysterically
Thanking God I don't have to live in a world like that
I'm so ******* grateful
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 11:48 PM UTC
First date just ended
and quickly after I left
as the headache set in
barely catching my breath
it feeds off my feelings
I can feel it creeping its way in
A case of the lovebug
Has got me again
Coughing up sweet words
Going faint from the comfort
This is how it always begins
It stole all of my thoughts
And gently erased them
Sweetly crawling around in my brain
Rearranging, rewiring, they all work the same
I was too doped up to realize
That this case is so serious, my sanity died
And now it’s too late
All I can think about
Is your hand in mine
Your face
Your eyes
****** delusions and lies
And still I’m rather quite hopeless
Desperate, caught in the moment
Helpless to stop it
But why would I want to?
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
You bought the house with lavender
seeded in the front porch.
The scent flutters between the doorsill
and through the letterbox
like bills overdue and invoices outstanding. A postal aroma,
envelope glue smells like flowers to me.
I was never granted the privilege of rearranging flowers
You said, there was more to life than flora,
these emerald, sap dripping, saturated stems
Swelling petals fascinated under my untried eyes,
You said I must not even graze the things.
I longed for a taste of the forbidden flora.
Did buds taste like honey? Were they sour like you told me?
Would they poison these supple
and innocent lips, turn them pink to grey?
Could tastebuds kiss the perennial vines,
the posies, the spray of efflorescence
A taste of simple sweetness -
I remember when you ripped the front-porch-lavender.
The roots could not resist your claws.
You sweat to mutilate strained flowers,
You always work harder. Verdure spoiled.
Ravaged, ruptured, tanked soil.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
She’s still got her makeup on
from the last night that she lived.
The blue in her crease, the electric shade
fuzzing out, like the awkward ending of a telephone call,
if people even make those
any more.
I wonder if they do.
-
Her hair half curled,
her smile still set,
from flashing itself across the room
again and again
dance after dance.
I wonder if she’ll change her clothes before she goes out again.
-
New time, new place,
But new faces can mean same clothes, same face,
same made-up face,
to greet one another.
A bit of rearranging is all it will take
for the girl to continue on
without making any change to herself.
She can play the game for another night.
I wonder if she’ll do this again when tonight comes to an end.
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 1:44 AM UTC
Rain falling on a mountain top
one drop at a time, dissolving,
changing, rearranging,
the shape of the world
and so we wear down continents.
one drop at a time.
Thoughts falling on a fertile mind
one idea at a time, dissolving,
changing, rearranging
the shape of the world,
and so we wear down prejudice.
one idea at a time.
Earth collides along a fault line
one inch at a time, building,
changing, rearranging,
the shape of the world
and so we build vast continents,
one inch at a time.
Compassion holds out hands of hope
one kindness at a time, building,
changing, rearranging,
the shape of the world
and so we build community,
one kindness at a time.
Jun 8, 2010
Jun 8, 2010 at 4:10 PM UTC
A few years ago
I fell in love
Racing 60 mph down a 45 zone
Clutching the seat and the door
Of a 98 nissan sentra
Hoping to get the hell out of that car
Because i couldn't stand him anymore
His reckless turned me on though
In a way that opening that car door
Seemed like an exit strategy
I didn't need to take after all
The darkness that encased the car around us
Seemed like the perfect mood setting
For the thrill we both wanted
And for me what i needed
Love didn't understand that
My fear for speed
Resembled my fear for life
Life always seemed to flash by to fast
Like it always had some place to be
And i wanted to remain still
I wanted to take a picture
Because i knew it would last longer
Instead of it always changing
And rearranging itself
Love drove me through the streets
many countless nights
Expanding my perspective
Reversing my sense of direction
A feeling of protection
That i didn't have before
Love gave me reasons
To speed through life
To not be scared
To every once in a while
Let go of the handle
That i strictly held onto
Love became my life
And i thank god
Each and every day
That i didn't take
That exit strategy
That i sped away into the night
And lived an actual life.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
I'm a magician,
Everywhere, every day I do magic, the magic that no one sees,
It is quite silent-the kind you can't hear, the forest for the trees.
Changing, rearranging the whole world "as good as new,"
Flash of fire lightning and rain and a sea was parted too!
Frightened figures hold each other, the earth it shakes,
The vaguest of lost lovers, the energy each marriage takes.
I'm a person on a mission, I'm a magician, pulling rabbits
Out of hats, telling people run for cover from the "vampire"
Bats. I'm a stranger on a mission as a faith magician what
Could it be? I'm here to preach to you about a God
You can not see! So now that I've told you all that
He's real he is all that you will ever know or feel.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Water the Greenhouse
Water the plants on the deck.
Walk Autumn Moon.
Salutation to the Sun
Yoga on the deck
Prayers
Angel of Air
Reading & Study with Ken
Sipping herbals & he, his coffee.
Pick up.
Moving the living room furniture
Rearranging. Sweeping. Mopping.
Clean the kennel.
Fresh bedding for Autumn.
A break for Sevenfold Peace in the sunshine.
Listening to the Holy Stream of Sound.
Playing with Autumn.
Laughing with Ken.
Continuing with rearranging & cleaning
Done!
Another break
With Ken, Autumn & Habibie
By the firepit in front of the shop.
Auti chasing water up and down and around.
Walk to Alli's, talk and pick up the key.
Cut broccoli, cabbage, carrots, & kale
Add a few pods of peas
Drizzle poppy seed dressing.
Two bowls with 1/2 cup of rolled oats each
Add cinnamon.
Taking a teaspoon
Half full with honey.
Dipping it into the center of the oats
Pouring boiling water over the honey.
Into the oats.
Stirring and stirring
Watching the cinnamon spirals
Mix into the sweet porridge.
Small cacao chips, sunflower seeds
A few raisins
Sprinkled as garnish.
Eating together
Smallville, playing with Autumn
Habibie resting near by.
She maybe carrying kittens.
Too early to tell.
Tired. Good night. Sleep.
2:30 am.
Ken up watching a movie on is phone.
My, my, how times have changed.
Return to bed.
Writing, writing, writing….now it is done.
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 1:07 PM UTC
Peace of mind is ephemeral,
drifting in harmony, then abruptly skewed.
The quintessence of humanity lost in the blink of an eye.
A gravitational pull overwhelms
Persistent
Tugs at the edges of reality
Patient
Disseminates thoughts, life
Painful
There is no escape as the jarring force draws inward,
voraciously swallowing everything in reach.
Distorting changes,
a myriad of sights, sounds,
besiege a troubled mind.
Blackness
Heavy and infinite
A suffocating contradiction to everything that was.
Ripping, tearing
Impossible void of compressed nothingness.
Twisting, rearranging
Pretentious "used to be"s into trembling trepidation,
too adrift to find the way back.
This is the point of no return.
Who is that person in the mirror now?
Jun 23, 2010
Jun 23, 2010 at 11:02 AM UTC
Cutting my organs and rearranging my bones
Discarding of the skin like ***** band aide
Watering insecurities and dipping in my pink
Fitting me in the solace of your neck
But never in your arms
Drowning in your touch
Etching into my memory the bitter sweetness of this
One sided love
Craving your torture and remedy in one.....
Jan 29, 2020
Jan 29, 2020 at 8:53 PM UTC
Goodbye enemies
talking and stalking
I never knew you
while you spoke
rearranging truth
snide comments
rude ideas
toxic seeds
in infertile soil
planted deep
without water
dried
without roots
Goodbye enemies
branches without leaves
leaves without life
rotting designs
molding fruits
twisting reality
wildest roots
lifting up houses
poisoning
mine
Goodbye enemies
smirk and stare
I don't care
I never knew you
and you never knew me
trauma bonding
at my expense
a primitive mindset
but no drums
or pretty colors
or life-fortifying culture
dried and dead
Goodbye enemies
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
The smell of shadow clung to our clothes like white to chandeliers,
but we walked…
we walked hand in hand, skin to skin, bone to bone.
We walked a world where our indifferent sides
were painted a shade darker than our dark sides,
a world where we spent time
as time mutually spent us,
a world
where every touch of toe upon earth
felt like the devil rearranging hell
just to accommodate our arrival.
But how could death swim in our chests
when we held forests in our hands?
So we washed our shadows in our tears
& hang them up on clothing lines,
Then with all the end in our lungs…
We run into the embrace of the sun,
Ferociously… we run.
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 3:12 PM UTC
Bleed me dry
Take all that remains
Carry my corpse
And take the burden of my shames
An empty shell of what used to be
So beautiful but so damaged was she
Never would have that we would be
I needed you more than words can describe
My everything, my eternal lullaby
Quietly rearranging the pieces of me
Never causing commotion
Only bringing out emotions never before seen
Tainted, touched
Your distress equated to my lust
Armed with your pain
Slicing and dicing hoping to never hit a vein
Your words evaded, while my mind corroded
Slowly dipping into insanity
Please please don't take me
Pleading for a retrieve
I only wanted you to receive
All of the pent up love
Inside of me, just waiting to be released
I deemed you worthy of it all
Now we tumble as we both take the fall
Graceful we are not
Both of us ****** up from the start
Bleak and diseased does our love grow
Two bludgeoned bodies trying to make it through
I promised I would never leave you
Only to be deceived by you
You understand my pain and yet here we are
I'm ending up with even more scars
While you look on from afar
But it's okay because I was already dead anyway
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 8:22 PM UTC
resuming textual trip
testing experimental procedures
visualizing model tsunami
augmenting facetious environment
catching abstract architecture
noticing rhythmic exchange
projecting subtextual database
airhorning reggae royalty
adding atypical party
resolving twitter question
noticing emotional mission
awaiting emotional dialect
installing metaphorical experiment
intensifying animated trip
displaying dynamic victory
programming abstract development
releasing emotional exchange
deriving fata morgana
glorifying referential sequence
intensifying facetious map
noticing harmonic trip
observing radical ratio
compiling nomadic message
predating google rebranding
reticulating facetious panda
using hyperreal feedback
exploring virtual panda
speculating graphic gallery
throwing mundane exception
targeting graphic experiment
replenishing emotional trap
localizing asemic animal
dropping rhythmic trip
propagating immortal experiment
displaying lowercase database
invading orange bubbles
crashing animated trip
running conceptual topography
remembering collapsed buildings
crashing hyperreal coverage
propagating hyperreal stipulation
finishing western library
envisioning neon tessellation
reciprocating network likes
processing animated device
releasing haptic quality
examining building seven
awaiting rhapsodical ratio
sampling death sauce
sensing lowercase clone
examining symbolic tour
processing potential development
encapsulating spatial lottery
displaying digital paragraph
reticulating theoretical source
perpetuating western paragraph
transmitting monochromatic structure
anticipating ambient quality
transmitting asemic environment
intensifying atomic quality
remastering history poem
keeping future light
hypothesizing eternal game
using future library
rearranging masonic language
transmitting masonic development
continuing ceremonial ritual
questioning party's legitimacy
deferring western coverage
finishing asemic hypertext
mollifying ostentatious presence
synthesizing allegorical icon
forming categorical unions
sketching app wireframe
programming immortal repository
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
she sat, back to passers by,
just out of the pouring rain,
wet hair, feet too, both socks soaked,
through and through.
Her short blonde-dyed locks were more like a pointy sponge drying in the wind.
rearranging to find dry things to wear,
blue gauze dress dripping water too,
naked to her underwear, without a care,
she put on her polka dot pajamas,
that were meant for nights you played twister, with her.
But she was so alone. On concrete steel stairs at a mall
central to the city where being a street person is a
measured percentage of the population,
what frustration,
and with distrust she stared anyone down,
talked in an angry voice, to everybody around. But there was no one,
who would stop, three over stuffed bags of belongings
while swearing and tossing her
head, longing to be someplace warm,
away from harm. That got her to this point in time.
Her feet were covered, and maybe warmer,
she packed and repacked all that she had,
and she was mad, like angry,
and on concrete stairs, and on user beware, and on the bottom of the arc
of her life so far,
so far away from the dreams she had as a little girl,
so far away from the hopes that she now only copes,
from one breath to the next breath and smokes a cigarette in between.
Alone, she knows better not to despair, no one would care if she did.
©DWE012014
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:09 AM UTC
Insecurity.
Jealousy.
Worrying.
Hope.
Fear.
Anger.
Self-hate.
Inward moving to outward
Wrenching open one's
Heart. Pacing.
Rearranging.
Weariness and
Utter defeat.
Then a small
Ray of sun
As I see you
And I'm not
Worried.
Lonely.
Cold.
LO
V
E
© 3/1/13
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 5:18 PM UTC
The gypsy life,
never in one place twice.
Always on the go,
metaphorically so.
The gypsy mind,
it's one of a kind.
Always changing,
rearranging.
The gypsy type,
they never think twice.
So easy to lose,
They're too fast for you.
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
She left me in a hurry,
with no word of her return
so I sit and wait, in longing,
keep her treasures safe, and yearn
for her face to gaze upon me,
as she fettles her dear skin,
with the pots of creams and lotions
I keep for her, within
my rose-lined drawers and cupboards,
the little blue glass bird
with wedding rings upon his beak
I asked, he hasn’t heard
of when our lady may be back
to grace us with her care,
her brushes sit with us and fret
of the tangles in her hair
and all lack of gloss and shine
finger tips cannot bestow
within her titian crowning,
oh! Where did she go?
Days slip by unhindered,
and merging seasons pass,
without her song or laughter
reflected in my glass.
I may as well be firewood,
my veneer begins to crack,
then, hark! I hear sweet footsteps!
My mistress has come back!
Her wedding rings rehomed at last,
the bird and I rejoice,
as she brushes out her hair and sings,
for we have missed her voice.
She polishes away the cracks,
takes a seat upon her throne,
rearranging pots and lotions,
I’m so glad that she came home.
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 6:57 PM UTC
I am Jupiter storms
Unabounded by time
Raging on
And eons
Can not hope to confine me
To unstable matter
And mass
Rearranging
My molecules morphing
To liquefied jewels
And my surface
A canvas
Of unrefined fuels
Like an abstract mosaic
Of swirling
Unfurling
Tempests of archaic
As constellations
And the ages I've waited
And slumbered and spun
Into memories
Faded
And taken the names of your gods
As my payment
Inflating my ego's
Mesmeric rotations
So quick to claim hearts
Of Europa's amidst
My seductive, enchanting
Illusory bliss
Venture into my centrifuge
Fumy abyss
I have pressed up my lips
Of a frigid, wet steel
And then sealed
With a kiss
What ‘nary
A planetary
Can resist
And as she revolves
Around me
And gives life
Io dances about me,
Callisto my wife
Ganymede my seed
And the rest of my progeny breed
Future needs
What the Earthlings will need
To make up for their greed
All will see
Look to me
In my enormity
As my reservoirs
Fill them
With infinity
Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 3:44 AM UTC
You chase the blessing without the lifestyle,
You want the power without the prayer cycle,
You talk about God when you need saving,
Then ignore his ways, when your ways need paving.
A true believer knows we don't have to wait,
Because the son came down and opened heaven's gate,
God called us to reign as kings,
Whoever is free in Me is free indeed.
The enemy came to destroy, steal, and ****
The Son overcame Him, so we may have joy in His will.
With authority comes responsibility,
With the cross comes bearing.
Love requires truth,
And truth requires changing ,
So stop trying to amend God because your life needs rearranging.
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 2:22 PM UTC