"redesigning" poems
Our childhood's prime game;
Creating a paper plane.
Making it fly high,
But it never reached the sky.
We would continue to raise the bar,
But still we wouldn't get very far.
We would trust a redesign,
But never anything different from our own design.
We would work soley for ourselves;
To keep the success to ourselves.
We would spend all day redesigning a paper plane,
But never on redesigning our life's shame.
We live for a paper plane
And its thrill - day by day.
We would accept our life's flaws,
But never our paper plane's flaws.
We would live for irrelevant people and objects,
But never for our own salvation.
We would live with a self-opinionated attitude,
But why do we now live with our opinion based on that of the world?
We live like a paper plane;
Flying high, just to be redesigned.
The world never helps us stay sane
As we're always seen as a failed design.
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 12:07 PM UTC
Better days
When the world was beautiful
Dancing was a fever
A feeling so high
All the lovers raged on and on
Upon a mountain of lovers
Twisting, sensual
A touch, so seldom
It brought shivers
Taking chances
Realizing that one night
Was the last of eternal bliss
Lasting love and happiness
Over
Without so much a proper farewell
Now begging to return to the dance floor
Walking towards the exit
Humming slightly
To a tune not forgotten
Walking amongst unfamiliar faces
Forbidden love
Prohibited from falling in love again
Not a chance to see what was happiness
Only a songstress could save me
Perhaps if I shouted for her, for him, for you
Resisting is foolish
For I have been consumed by an angel
Who sought me out
And ordered me to raise arms up
And shout for love
A sound in the night
Stranger in the night
Confined to solitary confinement
Forcing me to reconsider
The life chosen
Closer and closer
Redesigning the world in an image
Where love is in all of us
One step ahead
Planning for a revival
When all hell broke
But an epiphany occurred
This was the dream
To travel far and near
Where the world is seen
In multicolored
And black and white
This was a beautiful sight
The beautiful dream
A mighty return to this dance floor
Risen from ashes
A triumphant victor
Shining lights upon the followers
Notice this is reality
Not fiction
The sound of music
Flowing into each body
Embraces and affection
A thrill
Heartbeats ceasing
Trying to capture the intensity of a moment that is unforgettable
Created from nothing
An illusion that was created
To preserve a creature so pure
It was thought to have been banned from mortal eyes
Now it has crashed
Creating confusion amongst the lovers
Fearing for her safety
It created a masquerade ball
Surrounding by what she deemed reality
A distant land
Only she knew
When the perfect world shattered
Rumors spread of a goddess with the powers of the forbidden
Foreseeing a brighter day for those who chose a higher path
The world knew of the secret
Complicating information
However the brightest in the world
Seemed unaffected by the discovery
Hiding their connection
When the goddess loathed being captured
She revealed the master plan
But promising to strike twice
If the world saw what was lying underneath
Gone, the goddess sought shelter far away
Nothing the mortals knowledge of her plan
Striking from heavens above
Lightning struck twice
Blinding the universe
For only a second
Nothing existed
Reminding the world
Dark disco magic
Warped time and love
Nothing was ever bright
When left alone
Or forgotten
Or simply existing
Jul 24, 2010
Jul 24, 2010 at 11:22 PM UTC
Sensations that urge the detection of the greatest restraint and circumspection; the abruptness of spontaneous interruptions sprout volcanic internal eruptions full of relevant abundance
Flummoxed by the changes in the script; engaging wonder as suppressed thoughts are written on your face; withholding the ache as ebullient vivacity shakes you awake
Carrying a mischievous vividness full of cogent stimulus – fruitful affirmations of levelheaded, sanguine acceptance and unalloyed quiescence
Redesigning aspects of existence with unabridged persistence – receiving silent guidance from above by the means of scintillating messages lighting the living flame of love.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
Inhabiting a rubber state
Where bullets fly.
It ain't too great.
Politicians living in perfect glass houses.
Surely not green.
Never fragile.
Not throwing sticks.
Nor chucking stones.
They're draining the deserts and scoring the Arctic.
Drilling for oil.
Recoiling in horror.
Planet dynamic.
Ripped through her heart.
Redesigning circles.
Pictograms.
And block graphs.
Financial mutations of dignified nations?
Shiny panels for catching the sun.
Making ugly buildings.
Commonsense won.
Sustainable energy.
Keeping warm.
Heaven be praised.
For the warming sun.
Next thing we know.
They're bringing back hunting.
See you next Tuesdays.
Fox slaying.
And fining the homeless.
Them with no money.
More or less.
Hell of a mess.
Its all about war.
Its all about money.
Parliament run.
By brainless numbskulls.
(c)Livvi MMXV
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
The snappy air has 'pinked my cheeks'
ruffled my dark curls
swept cobwebs away and so much more
from my mind
Going through the motions, I walk
My dogs, eager for adventure,
I, am keen to ponder
so I allow them to discover
all they can find
Meanwhile I roam a little
inside my head
while taking in how winter
is trying to take hold
and is redesigning nature
Bare and stark, gloomy at times
but I embrace the change
expectant and excited like a child still
at the thought of snow
Awaiting a blanket of white innocence
a welcome change from disorder
Layers of glittering calm
that will cause a ripple effect
in my mind
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 2:36 AM UTC
There once was a plain old greedy degenerate
Who fancied himself some sort of profit
Most of the town's folk even bought it
Some say he lost it
We must laugh together at the irony we see
Someone degenerate as he
Redesigning our humanity
First conceptual sold as a divine product
******* ecstasy…
I won't support the scandal to fund the living Dead council
The Swine
Thought to unwind and rewind in the way they felt fine
Thus genetically designed a millennia of succession of clergy kings
And unleash them to father all mankind to be
Hear me when I say
I do not feel okay
When malice men metal with God's work
Got a hell of a good pitch though
I mean you really make that **** looked **** no?
A well-designed slaughterhouse may have its livestock walking into spirals right to the mouth of the grinder
Scientifically each breed more perfect than the next
As I deflect
Do my very best
To warn just in case you could respect
Liberty and freedom
Or obey to choose to sleep comfortably
Happy sheep healthy cut of meat
Splash, shear and then repeat
I love you So much
Almost as much as I love myself
Hope you can learn how to be alone with just yourself all by yourself
and be present with yourself Love
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 10:01 AM UTC
I returned back to the same home I used to know,
Oh boy, it feels familiar but I'm not so sure if it's good thing.
My first few steps back inside I heard some creaks on the floor in a silent room filled with dust on some brand new furniture
I mean, how is that even possible?
I take a few steps forward as the door behind me closes..
"is this the right choice?"
Pictures on the frames take so little amount of space in the house but somehow they constantly remind me of the past..
Of what this house used to be.
So I tore them off.
I tore them all off the walls so that all you can see is the clear empty walls, looking cleaner and more innocent with a hole where the nail used to be.
I'm not sure if it even looks better.
But I shoved the frames in a box, beneath my bed..
So why is it every time I take a stroll in the house it smells the same, and every time I sleep at night, I feel something hiding under my bed..
I mean, let's be more direct.
You were my home.
But I don't know who you even are anymore...
Cause every time I want to smile, I hear the picture frames knocking on my door, telling me I shouldn't.
Every time I think of coming home, I stop by every store just to make sure I have all the different frames so I can hide that nasty hole on the wall that the nail left behind..
But every time I did that, I couldn't tell if I was redesigning my home or lying to myself.
Tell me, what makes this one so different?
Is it a even a second chance.. or the seventh chance?
The ghosts of you don't creep behind me, it's the knives on my back and I can't tell..
Tell me, are they still there?
Or am I reminiscing about the past, feeling on the scars that I can't see, hoping one day I'm able to study every curve and every mark of where I went wrong that caused me to carry them for the rest of my life..
I mean tell me, because if I can't trace my steps back to the time I've twisted the door **** and walked right in without studying the room or listening to these same empty walls.. would I still be alive?
Or would you have killed me with the same knives that's already deeply rooted into my spine..
you say you love me but it sounds the same.
**** That ******* knocking is getting louder, it won't leave me alone.
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
Why give only one life when I need so many more?
There's not much space to fit in all those people I adore..and I adore the lot.
What I've got will not suffice..so I shall ask real nice of my creator.."whatya doin' later"?
Let's redesign this life of mine and make it play its part..
..so I can open up my heart and let the world come in.
One life is not enough..like a sleeve without a cuff..it's just not right..
..so give me two or three or four,let me explore the unexplored and live my lifetimes more than more.
We can be friends before I fade.
Or would you like it known that you have made..a dud.
No good ?..but I could be..if only you would free the lock that makes me such a laughing stock and put more life in store for me..then you would see that redesigning was just a matter of some refining of this jewel.
I play quite well the fool..with ease..but make me last much longer please..let me adore those many more..on my knees I do implore you.
Is this message getting through ? have you so much more to do that you can't do this little thing for me?
Set me free.
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 5:00 AM UTC
what i have
is a wounded soul
but
my heart
is slowly opening again
to new things
to old things that feel new
i place my stale thoughts in a jar
and close the lid
i say "no more"
it is now
time for loving
and rediscovering myself
and redesigning myself
i let the pain hurt
but i don't let it define me
it's time to start living again
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 5:12 AM UTC
Lately
I’ve been closing my eyes
reimagining the hieroglyphs
of springtime
at your door
and the way the light
touched your form
but now it’s just me
and the moon
redesigning the colors
in your room
sketching rivers and lakes
into the tombs
of our love.
Tell me what you’re thinking
though I know
that it isn’t of me
but she
is still in every
night vision
every daydream
half asleep
half turned to the universe
of her design
elements of refracting memories
words
that have so long since
been my curse.
Time
has made a beggar of me
when October has
dug her nails into
the April on my mind
mouth full of planet
but chest full of wind—
she is closed to me again
her form is a mountain
when mine is just a grin
just a shadowy friend
of her own
on the ground
in the field
where our love story
would end.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 9:18 PM UTC
You started by being my friend,
Then you created a safe haven.
It started out with a few things like redesigning.
Little did I know that these were just the strings.
Soon you assembled a control bar,
That made me bend to your will.
I was too afraid to speak
As you might just release me.
But eventually my arms could not work,
My legs could not move.
My strings were broken and all worn out,
So, you found new strings on another puppet you pulled.
So, I sat in my in my corner and collected dust.
Thinking about how I got fooled.
As days went by, another person came.
They dusted me off and gave me a name.
With no strings and new clothes,
They called me their friend
And said I wouldn’t be played with again.
Dec 5, 2024
Dec 5, 2024 at 12:23 AM UTC