"recursion" poems
energy surging,
heat begetting heat
expands to dark expanse to cool and brew what slow restocking weight
with white supernal flare between
around an equipoise of center you imagined as you write
and what non-being-being residing in beneath the deep?
inspired by the question-thought embracing
death beyond what death to value life a blissful state
in even darkest reaches found
the pain a sundered gate of joy you capture with poetic greeting ploy,
that coin is split to join opposing worlds
as when blind Shiva blinded world
unbridled lust arrayed from hut to hut
obliging them his ***** to rip
but then extinguishing their rant
to foster pleading for the dance again
collecting yoga as viyoga
in samanvaya chiaroscuro maya-vidya
or adept on cosmic player focus
hate-trancendent into vast eternal love
which even Luke (14:26) dropped lovely clue to
un conditioned by contingent fondness
for what myth of real play
we stage together evermore
to frolic in the uncut hair of graves
(greenest grass to know what past)
whose leavings are for future sunrise lush to celebrate another self envisioned
in another set of singing eyes
the literal, empty, formless mien
a synthesized good-bye recursion rush
.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 9:23 PM UTC
Once upon a time
in a land
far far away and
only now do I understand
the recursion, you feel
more then just far.
In familiar locations
Lacking only you
I sit and slowly forget.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
oh, sweet discovery--
an affirmation, iterate anew--
frissoning along the spinal ungulate
of waxing waning curve of time i spin
within that spiral, scapular
for sternum bloom in thinning breath
to thick, spread elongate
digitally ground
and see the phasing moons
as one, what, separated is in union once again
as what, in being one, unites united difference all again, again
--again repeated-- in my cells that newness thread
laddered spiecieswide, and more
alighted language coding
holograms in boon of sun--
golden futures past--
univocally found
by none, by all and only some,
and even only one
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 12:41 AM UTC
i'm 7 1/2 inches old. 8 by you.left. a film on me
like melatonin.leaking outside of it.vocaloid choaking. kawaii grunge in the
waterlogged
meniscus.my genocide- your ears.ihate the way it ran
down the wall then. better.if i crouch inside your cradleface18+ years
ago. like an inflammation. you qualify for
recursion_
like the newer- more appealing nightterrors.we escape certain
allegories. by gutting them. filigree-
whipped outside.to punish the exhibitionist inside: your lanky breathing.i am tired of borrowing your guilt i must be good.you
think.i break my wrist.
we.
anyways,.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
If there is one thing I've learned
In the past few weeks
It's the only encouragement
You are capable of giving
Are those kicks to the ribs
When I'm down on the ground
Or
It's horoscopes and fortunes
Only grant truth to those
Like pipe dreams come true
Because we are all searching for something
Deep inside the plumbing
If there is one thing I've learned
In the last few months
It's hope is not hope if it's broken
That evanescent idea in my head
Of happiness being at the end of the tunnel
And not inside me is wrong
Or
It's everyone has an agenda
And regardless of their philanthropy
They are in it for themselves.
If there is one things I have learned
In the past few years, it's
Love is both existential and theoretical
It is not for the faint of heart
It is for those who have had theirs made strong
Through scarring and wounds
From having their ventricles punctured
By cherub's arrows and constantly having them removed.
Or
Love is a war
And only those in its wake of misery
Will truly understand it
Once they have its warmth
In their arms.
If I understand only one thing
Throughout my entire life
It would be "I love you"
Should never be an obligation
Nor a recursion
Nor a simple statement
Said to make one feel better
Or
When trumpets blare
And violins sing
And such crescendo swells
Until such music leaves you
Breathless and without thought
Only then will you feel like I felt
In your arms
Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 6:45 PM UTC
The poet has collected the thirty-seven words which appear the most in his previous written poetry. They are depicted here in descending order. There is no man behind the curtain.
Like love,
just know
I feel way happy,
really.
Away time:
mouth, skin,
beautiful eyes carved,
******* **** want
lips, hands.
Hate,
left warm girl,
words meant matter,
memories, sun,
loved felt --
throat,
moment,
face;
maybe home?
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
Recursion
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Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 5:13 AM UTC
I feel you sub-zero
The look in your eyes like demon do
When I beg from you
You refused, while I'm in state subdue
it's a little too late
Until I lost my faith
I've got so much to rake
while you're too bitter to take
Every beat, every street
Those memory lanes I missed
Every hit on the back seat
Were my pledge ticket to retreat
My feverish in motion
My heart rate recursion
I'll quit you, I'll buy you rocket
Erase you, press delete play cricket.
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 4:51 AM UTC
Every Seventh is a Rest.
The Day after the Seventh Sevens, a Renewal.
These are the Sevens of Days and Years,
Of Time marked by the Sun and Earth.
The Sevens of Moons is a Recursion
Every Seventh, a Seven, and is Half a Time,
The Fullness thereof, a Twelve.
And every Seventh, a Sacrifice.
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 2:16 AM UTC
Tonight I seem to miss them again
I don't know if to cry or to laugh.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC
my mind
s
p
i
n
s
the colors
all of the COLORS
the cardinal red
the 6 drops
i cannot stay here
i cnnt sty hr’
but my mind
MY MIND
IS
STUCK IN
A RECURSION
MY MIND
IS
STUCK IN
A RECURSION
MY MIND
IS
STUCK IN
A RECURSION
A RECURSION
a
recursion
‘i know’
‘i have to get out of here’
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 2:52 PM UTC
Under the orange sunset
Our arms wrapped around pillows
Have you ever felt that
Comfort below weeping willows?
We are here, far from home,
So let me listen to your stories
From outside this sweltering dome.
Let me listen to your worries.
Don't you dare say sorry,
Don't say you're fine,
Don't be scared, don't hurry,
Your secrets are mine.
Here it is only us and the furniture,
Glowing with the golden sun.
For now, just forget the future
And focus on the now, the fun
from a long, long time ago,
In a faraway place perchance,
Remember how winds used to blow
Free. Your family, friends, romance...
Tell me more, till you are sore,
I am here, one with the air,
Listening as your teas pour
And comfort you, show that I care
for you…
Now there is no fear.
Just your sweet tea and tears
enslaved in the atmosphere...
You talk and talk, on and on...
Recursion. Infinite loop.
But what about me?
Would you do the same for my bitter, black tea?
Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 7:53 PM UTC
I don't think, as I reach up,
As I reach up, the stars shrink,
The stars shrink, and like glass cuts,
And like glass cuts, I don't think,
The stars fall, and like glass cuts,
And like glass cuts, the clouds stall,
The clouds stall, it won't end, but-
It wont end, but the stars fall,
We can't die, it won't end, but-
It won't end, but I can't cry,
I can't cry, 'cause in my gut,
'Cause in my gut, we can't die.
I don't think, 'cause in my gut,
'Cause in my gut, it's all drink,
It's all drink, I don't know what,
I don't know what, I don't think.
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 7:18 PM UTC
Here goes the story,
a parallel sitting along
it is just identical
there we go,
witness it happen
but it is just so action
in different retrospection
with varying intention
all I think about is
this in recursion
If I could just
change the friction
what could it have been
there is no comparison.
Nov 11, 2020
Nov 11, 2020 at 5:48 AM UTC
insaneness
behind sane,
and saneness
behind that
insaneness
are behind
insanity
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 6:10 PM UTC