"reinventing" poems
A girl, a woman, lover, friend,
liking me more than she should.
I want to love someone again,
I know she wishes I would.
I love the joy and pain of her,
our hearts are an open book.
My wounds are fresh from this mad world,
when life was harshly shook.
Portrait eyes are such a treat,
looking up at this new man.
Simply, silly, kind and sweet,
She reminds me who I am.
Her witness down inside of me,
exposure to all my tools.
Teaching each other honesty,
we're reinventing the rules.
She has a look she can't disguise,
whenever I look her way.
Optimistic hopelessness in her eyes,
bittersweet each day.
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 7:01 PM UTC
Don't let this self-effacing exterior fool you
I am meglo-maniac in the making
Social media the perfect introvert's mask
Reinventing myself daily
Vanessa Ives, girl-about-town, quirky geek
An attention *****
******* in the digital wind
For a like, a follow, a retweet.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 7:24 AM UTC
glamourous indie rock n' roll
orbited our tiny kitchen as i kissed
the nape of her neck.
lauren sliced the avocados.
i prepped the pasta.
our neat little domestic life.
her eyes would ignite mine,
as she spoke of reinventing
the world with her love.
every word rang with perfect truth,
for she had dissolved my callused heart,
and focused my idiot head.
and that night i lied in blankets of her
mercy.
as she licked the wicked wounds
of complacent cruelty.
i've never missed her more.
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 8:43 PM UTC
Its not a matter of your body or your age
the truth doesn't carry weight, but sets the stage
for the flow of knowledge: wisdomage.
To abandon nothing, but reinvent everything
including the wheel of your mind;
a complete surrender, absent knowing;
Inheriting nothing, reinventing nothing
including the dreams that you are;
a complete surrender to the way thus far.
We cherish the day, met humbly
without a care, in side and out a tribe in harmony
creating together, sans competition:
pacific planets orbiting the Sun.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 2:24 PM UTC
Finding What Was Lost 1/12/19
I’m searching for something I’ve lost. You can’t help me look for it.
I can’t quite remember what I did with it. This thing that seems to elude me.
How could I misplace something so important?
I became complacent, that’s what happened.
What was an intrinsic part of me, not nurtured, left me abandoned.
If I call to it, it does not come like a puppy who has escaped the yard with its tail tucked in between his legs.
I have to show what I’ve lost, that it is of value to me.
“Hello?” please come back. I swear I’ll do better, and work harder than I ever have.
I know now that my existence is meaningless without this part of me.
Realizing this, I reach into the dark places of my mind for the light switch to flip on.
Recalling every detail about what I love to do, nurturing what gives me purpose.
Because, in the end, only I can fulfill this need.
Reinventing, transforming, and evolving. Finding myself along to way.
Becoming a better version of what I was and, in doing that, embrace me.
Hello soul.
By.
Randy McPeek
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 4:20 PM UTC
What a beautiful mouth you have
And so we beat our boats against
The currents ceaslessly reinventing
Ourselves in the knowledge that
Nothing much really matters
And you don’t have to worry
About flies or parents just
Cleanliness.
And this is how we do it on
The steps of Morocco in grass
Skirts and a sombrero under
A blue sky with tomorrow
Waving goodbye.
Love Mary **
May 4, 2019
May 4, 2019 at 1:22 PM UTC
the girl has her face removed
and replaced with a plastic advertisement
for bubble gum
chew on my head she says
with a slick smile
and as she fades down an alley
she is whistling an old
Broadway showtunes
she is reinventing herself from
inside a box of cereal
trips are for hippies
there are gypsy's hanging round her door
selling tickets to the dinner theatre
of her self inflicted dreams
the actors are picketing out front
for better lines
she took the best ones and rewrote them
to resemble the life and times
of sherlock holmes
she disrobes her masked face
and with a cautious shy smile
envelops him with her presence
her planned nature crafted to perfection
without second thought
without hesitation eats him alive from the inside
still hungry she mingles in the crowd
so she can steal their french fries
and **** on their soda's
she's celebrated
and cheered as she mounts the stage
her left handed shuffling fingers
grasping the fundamentals of her mind
but a weak grip on reality's slippery skin
leads one the rabbit hole
to delusions publicly lived
standing in the worlds shadow
talking to yourself
laugh louder than the one next to you
lest they think you weak minded
and the small sounds at your ear
is your free will escaping
she lay down at the end of her day
and with Aesop's fables wished herself
away from this
dinner theatre of the mad
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 5:11 AM UTC
*( Loki )
1
All ills you have wrought
Mischief maker in the dirt
No shower will cleanse
2
Poor Woolfy Spirit
******* in actuality
You ARE Beryl Dov
3
Thor is your new name
Psychopath reinventing
Same old *** trickster
4
Who is following
The fortune cookie writers
Such lame phony names
5
Fragile ego here
Pages of Wolf and Beryl
Drama queens reeking
6
Even as he leaves
Tireless self promoter
Lowers the banal*
Note:
Wolf Spirit IS Dire Wolf IS Toreanus Pinwinkle III IS Thor IS Beryl Dov IS ******** ( aka ******* ) Rabbi IS soooooo many others - a many-faced pest and pariah, previously banned on other sites for being stalkers and sociopaths !!
See:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1530102/wolves/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1516652/breach/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/832663/beryl-dov/
&
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1527822/not-a-poem-an-open-response-to-wolf-spirit-and-wolf-spirit-dire/
Basically anyone who follows these massive-ego predators is probably them !!
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
here's to the glam rock messiah of outsiders and misfits,
the androgynous man of the stars with the music.
born in brixton,
he traveled the universe by spaceships and soundwaves
with wild hair and one eye dilated.
book-loving and queer,
in love with the thought of turning 50.
the world had never seen a man
living different lives at once,
but here the starman came reinventing himself:
ziggy stardust, thin white duke, aladdin sane, major tom—
all different selves tied together by his heart.
he lived his earthly mission, rightfully so
that even the gravity of the world could not keep him put.
so on and on he strummed his guitar and crawled on stage,
in spaceboots and dresses, in porcelain doll makeup,
reaching out to all the nobody and somebody people
but one day his cosmic vessel
was taken down by a secret sickness
and halted his mission here on earth,
and so the streets and little bars smelling of cigars
were flooded by the ones who mourned,
who looked up to the stars,
wondering where their starman went.
the world had never seen such an electric creature,
but here the star man came in music and dance,
saying it was alright to be weird—
to embrace strangeness
in a world where every earthling wanted to be the same.
and perhaps, he isn't really long gone:
his time here may have ended
but now he is out there, somewhere,
on some distant star,
watching over the Earth as he always has.
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 11:31 AM UTC
I sit up at night and find my head up in the clouds.
I take a look around and find you holding court
Even if its only kings and clowns, its everything you've ever wanted,
And there is the crown of diamonds and myrrh
Sitting upon your brow lightly as a newly fallen layer of snow.
As the stars go rushing by my ears and across the sky,
The only thought to cross my mind is the beauty of you in my eye.
We can be kings or pawns a man once said,
But what can that possibly matter when he's long been dead?
Preventing me from asking him what those frosty words meant,
And when the gold mountains rise to meet the starry skies
I make a wish upon you, you shooting star blazing through my life,
Hoping to take you from this group of fading glimpses,
Reinventing you as my lunarary waxing gibbous,
Maybe to one day have you become the sun.
I greet you in the East as you dictate the heartbeat of the day,
But as I lay my head to rest, descending from the clouds,
I find you locked away in my heart.
I will breathe for you another day, another time,
Watching you shooting star across my skies,
Departing from my life as a wish unsaid, a wish untried.
I am left, my head on my pillow, awaiting my comet come round again.
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 3:01 AM UTC
Out of the darkness
I claw and rise to see
There is a forest inside.
The green surrounds me.
The sun's rays splatter
Me awake to my open body.
I let in the light
I lean into the forest
With the trees holding me up
- as I tilt to fall
Reinforcing my stand I forgot
- I was a part of.
The green has grown so strong
Like the blood that sweeps away
Inside of me to a rivers tune.
I don't want to leave this place,
Fearing it will be taken beyond
Or that it was never mine.
Reinventing this woodland
That has always been inside.
The pine, the wind through the branches, the owl winks.
It has always been here with me
Compelled to germinate
Waiting for my return.
I lift up my head and the sky
- Is so blue.
Apr 13, 2024
Apr 13, 2024 at 5:35 PM UTC
Sitting cross legged on earth, in the wilderness alone quiet,
I meditate,on the single sprawling tree, in her poetic best,
verdant and robust, I wouldn't fail to see how ceaselessly
she did strive, in reinventing herself moment after moment.
A bird, dedicating her song to the evening's evanescence,sings on,
like nothing else ever matters to her, even after it's end,
as she has known her inner-self better, by making her songs
more relevant, each time than before,and than the songs of others,
without any reason particular, more by a compulsion mysterious.
While delving in to the depth of that compulsion, Marianne Moore,
I feel present in my mind, she is the tree fighting the creative battle,
not to dislike her own creation,the bird with persistent compulsion.
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 9:45 AM UTC
“Haha You’re going to have nobody in July”
Flash it back to last summer,
While people are out on beaches, getting tans,
And at camps reinventing themselves,
I’m sitting on the couch with Netflix open,
Watching my favorite show on rewatch
While wishing I could have someone to talk to
Texting just not doing it for me,
But none of my friends are free,
Their off living their lives out in the wild,
With people surrounding them, while being happy in the sun,
While I’m here in the dark, with the only light being my computer screen.
Maybe they were right, I really will have nobody in July,
No one to visit, no one to talk to
Even my sisters are leaving for college in June,
Options running out,
Once again I’m limited to the people on my phone,
The people who don’t want to talk to me,
And answer hours after I text, not caring enough to reply as fast as I do,
Leaving myself to scroll down, video after video,
Wishing that was me, laughing with someone in my room
Instead of being all on my own
Yeah, they were right I’ll have nobody in July,
Even more now that their gone,
One less option that I used to have,
Even though we rarely saw each other face to face,
We still talked at least once every week,
With that gone now, I just don’t know what I’ll do,
I don’t want it to come to scrolling endlessly on my phone,
Unable to read ten pages in one sitting,
Unfinished lyrics, and paragraphs left alone, just as I am
Motivation tossed away as soon as school rolls out,
Nothing left to do except sit on the couch,
Listen to music and wish that someone would text me,
Even though I know they won’t.
Maybe they were right, I really will have nobody in July,
No one to visit, no one to talk to
Even my sisters are leaving for college in June,
Options running out,
Once again I’m limited to the people on my phone,
The people who don’t want to talk to me,
And answer hours after I text, not caring enough to reply as fast as I do,
Leaving myself to scroll down, video after video,
Wishing that was me, laughing with someone in my room
Instead of being all on my own
Yeah, they were right I’ll have nobody in July,
All I have is myself,
And for once I need that to be enough
All I need is to get through the month,
The longest month in summer, when people are practically begging for school back,
Me more than most.
Back in those halls where I talk to someone daily,
Have more than just myself telling me to get work done,
A reason to wake up in the morning,
Instead of two in the afternoon,
While falling asleep at three,
Unable to rest when there's nothing to be tired from,
Expect the endless silence of the communication I wish I could have
Maybe they were right, I really will have nobody in July,
No one to visit, no one to talk to
Even my sisters are leaving for college in June,
Options running out,
Once again I’m limited to the people on my phone,
The people who don’t want to talk to me,
And answer hours after I text, not caring enough to reply as fast as I do,
Leaving myself to scroll down, video after video,
Wishing that was me, laughing with someone in my room
Instead of being all on my own
Yeah, they were right I’ll have nobody in July,
“That was a mean thing to say I’m sorry”
May 18, 2020
May 18, 2020 at 3:08 PM UTC
I got my ears plugged
Eyes tight
And
Lips shut
Reluctantly refusing
Self alluring truth
Profusely inviting
Petty captivating lies
Reinventing exits
To build refuges
Soothing fugitives
Before the hurricane rise
Are we daydreaming
When the sun's ray shines
Or are we relieving
Among the moon night sky
Promises burying hatchet
Imparting forgotten hatred
Cycling seems to be reversed
Rewinding lost tapes reserve
All this delusions inverse
Contrary motions now swerves
Hallucinating angles preserved
For I shall ink no further
The truth of this lies tethered
As this true blue love leaves
Incepting my stray mind free
©2014 Maman Screams
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 6:33 AM UTC
(I) Love Thy Neighbor As Thy
self
~
*how I would
honor this with
joy effervescent,
this simplest of methodologies
if only I,
could permission myself
to love myself
if only I,
knew
how to love*
~~
(II) redemption: the city of man reinventing himself
*busting bursting, this city,
ceaseless change,
old discardation,
how blind am I,
skyscrapers built in a day
how have I failed to notice
the estate changes
a master plan unknown,
the reasoned limits ever stretched.
in defiance of taste and sense,
obedient to Babel tower's net-result,
the miscegenation of language
but this is a ruse issue,
an example of me/man,
this new born spawn,
a wagging tail of
a man I know,
a failed inventor,
nary a patent
to his name
years on years
he patiently awaits
for one true inspiration
a redefinition, a redemption,
a reinvention, a new cornerstone
to lay upon it a new foundation
just a clue, a single block,
he can clean erase
start over, inaugurate
a recommencement celebration
to begin the same mistakes
here be the rub,
the irritation,
the seed comes implanted
and then
wind spread
can be only repaired, replaced
when cross pollinated
with the love of a foreign body
and his only crime, love poetry,
his crime alone, for unopened
it, and he, both-awaiting the time
when others come impatient
to bulldoze him aside*
~~~
(III) Three
three
*an oddity
an uneven symmetrical imagery*
"only love poetry"
*a three sum,
- three legged stool-
there is nothing new under the sun,
whispers the Psalmist
this I whisper
only, alone, one,
be no such!
only love poetry
until*
~~~~
postscript
***if only I,
knew
how to love***
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC
Presently living in a
Past that never was;
Dwelling on the
Wouldas Couldas and
Probably shouldn'ta beens;
Reliving old sins and
Reinventing new ones while
Repeating the same old formula
Over and over again.
The cellar dweller feeds on
Fantasies and nostalgia;
Only accepting food that tastes
Relatively similar to something he
Enjoyed when he was happy
Once upon a time.
A slave to the good old days...
And so long as he eats,
Any resemblance of future happiness
Remains locked away
Deep in the cellar-
Guarded fervently-
By the dweller.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 5:39 PM UTC
Reinventing myself again
Im not meant to be a step dad
Over dating girls who have a child
Cutting ppl out I seen them as awesome
Too bad they **** and sti k on stuff they can't change
Ive begged and pleaded no one listens
Mad at me over some girl who dont want you
Girls who dont take me serious but get mad once im over them
Ive never been one to kiss *** I did what I can to make it right
You cant let go that's on you
I apologized you can't forgive thats on you
By rejecting my apology I took it as go **** yourself
I thought how maybe its my fault but I dont deserve to be treated like ****
Dating ***** getting to know all the wrong ppl
Id rather be alone then stressing over being with someone who dont love themselves
Never emotionally available when I find them attractive
It ***** when I make my way no one care or believes in me
Ive been angry and jealous I go out if my way and nothing
I know ppl who dont try and blessed for days
Im working for mine
Putting in time to better myself
I never think anyone is better than me just different
I can have any girl just have to be confident
Im use to reject the think that mind rapes me is when a person completely changes on you.
Thinking one way but acting another way
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
She was lust in the morning
and art by nightfall
Where she whispered halfway moans
of words plagiarized off the wall
Some little death
Some ironic typography
reinventing fate
Manifesting her destiny
In stutters
she gaits
A soul tripped out of the dream machinery
Now she's standing naked
In the door way
The threshold
between mundane and fantasy
Staring down the destiny
about me
She asks me
to follow her bliss
Her skin heralds the call
to my hands around her neck
She wants to be
bruised
So Gracefully
Pulling her hair back
dragged
in and out of dreams
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 2:12 AM UTC
“A woman needs to find a way of creating boundaries that is not a violation of her instinctual feeling of wholeness.”
daring like a ballerina
simple as a peach orchard
she loves me like a daughter
from the height of wonder
I look at her with innocence
like a mother
I teach her how to stare in the sun
to see flowers of light
the fragility of colours
and how stories happen in the dark
the hardest part is letting go of knowing
reinventing the smile
words stand there not pretending
tangible, waiting to be broken
here is everything letter by letter
cruel and demanding
like a song, like a perfume in autumn
“I lend you my fairies,
you lend me your arms”
silk embraces
uncracked choices
I follow her into laughter
She follows me into tenderness
little exchanges, attunement, failures
when to draw a line
when to plunge into circles
store fat miracles
a grasshopper is coming in
propelled by the infinite desire
“you don’t have wrinkles, mama”,
she laughs
a bird came to nest in your heart,
don’t frown, mama
let’s yell to scare baubau
"should I make it yellow?"
every day she’s mapping my honesty
giving me her burden of childhood
and we found ourselves raw and dreaming
in between hearts
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC
The many city blocks once quiet and safe
normally busy with the locals.
Classed as a multi cultural communities
no longer has the same feel.!
Spontaneous trouble erupted on the streets
organised with thousand of tweets.
After dark the mayhem was orchestrated
and expanding into a war zone.
Police were unable to regain control
as the gangs had a free hand!
Businesses, homes were robbed and looted
the air with smoke polluted.
Gangs roaming in violent mischievous packs
no fear of police respect was gone.
A new era had dawned upon the English public
unprecedented violation on the nation.
Incredibly lost lives and injuries were not more
as people's worlds lay on the floor.
To long a delay in the politicians reaction
why no action taken before?
Before the young made a mockery of the law
reinventing mob rule!
Is it true our leaders are not really effected
and are no longer respected?
Without the confidence and trust of the public
the simmering tension will rise!
When the criminals and anarchist begin to win
what hope for a once proud nation?
With no strong government or trusted protection
there could be complete disconnection!
What will happen next and where? Be careful out there!
As into the day the violence would not go away!
Is the war really here?
The Foureyed Poet.
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 6:09 PM UTC
what is beauty: a naked word
sore chest with wonder
torment-like tension suddenly flooding
soothing radiation within
unborn words
silence
a world reinventing prayer: it is beauty
tearing me down
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
Twenty-nine belts bravery from a bottle.
It feels like all talk and no game.
Twenty-nine has thighs that don't lie
and a finger that motions you
to come closer.
It relearns each facet of love
and finds beauty in its own reflection.
Twenty-nine betters the invention
instead of reinventing it.
It imagines kissing strangers to feel alive and
gifts the pearl to the jewel thief
with no words- only smiles.
Twenty-nine strikes a match
in the middle of a pitch black nowhere,
only to see the smoke twist up and away.
It cracks and hisses when it feels its been forgotten.
It smells like pine needles, orange peel, and sun bleached cotton.
Twenty-nine forgets those who have forgotten it
but thanks them for the lessons.
It likes church but only for the music, architecture, and sociology.
Twenty-nine won't apologize for passion or pity,
but it will drip with empathy at inopportune times.
Twenty-nine steeps itself in scalding water
only to discover its true flavor.
It finds no comfort in the opinions of others
but will only rest at the signal of a nod of approval.
Twenty-nine looks down into the neverending
and can't decide if it wants to jump or run.
It handstitches a parachute
as it dangles one foot over the edge,
says a prayer to no god
but writes hymns that bring tears.
Twenty-nine keeps breathing.
It keeps breathing.
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 11:17 PM UTC
Fall into the rabbit hole of my soul
For it is dark and deep
An endless abyss of complexities
That you can never fully explore
I too, have not seen the end
I continue to wander
The parts of my soul
Created, yet untouched
Unknown even to me
Because I am finding myself
Unknowingly in a cycle
Of creating and reinventing
How can you tame
What is always changing
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 3:01 AM UTC
Dying straight line
Blissful reverie beginnings
Fill mason jars with
Cataclysmic repertoires
And loving memories
Specifically orchestrated
Pyroclastic like similes
Apprehensive to gestation
Systematical count down
To an evitable destination
But a soul may yet soar
On breezes men never fly
To hear the tune of resonance
Corporal forms rarely perform
Feel opulence in not but illumination
Transparent millennia as but a flash
Far beyond a humanoid pursuit
So while a body starts with intending
Spirits are infinite and never ending
You may think we are a dying straight line
But we are a circle….reinventing.
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC