"relational" poems
#
*This place. I don't know.
so many people / want to block..
their words--
they climb all over me.
one's in particular:
Heart-expressed words bringing down
the healing light of relationship to the parts of me
who up until now
have known little or no relationship of its kind;
and there is conflict within me as I fight it..
years the locusts have eaten; and the opportunity of restoration;
often squandered. in vanity.
none of that mattered much;
until now--
When the unredeemed heart-parts of myself
reveal to me their dormancy: left detached
from community with one another--
an internal community necessary
to withstand the brilliant light and glory
brought down by those here who write as she does.
but she;
through her unfiltered heart-writes
brings down the very magic and beauty and fullness of the
relational dance of the godhead.
And it's raw beauty is ****** slayin me.
I so want to block her for the conflict she creates in me
.
but I will press on
and allow her supremely-smithed words--
(words not even written to me)
to have their beautiful way,
in
and through..
the help that has been all around me;
(each and every one of us)
waiting...
all along
**--as if they were cleaning my soul,
re-integrating my fragmented, heart-parts.***
#
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 8:21 PM UTC
#You are beautiful forever--
the core of who you are..
still wholly uncorrupted,
is made in the very image of God--
It is intertwined with your flesh
so that your flesh may become healed.
But your flesh is immersed in
the stupidity, placed there by others, not you.
But you are the one that still chooses
to believe its ******** message--
The one that says it will not work
or that it's all too much
or that no one cares, anyways
or that you are not worthy
of the magic that is in you.
The relational part of your own healing
that already exists within you
will come to you from those
who love you enough
to want to tell you the truth--
That the message your traumatized flesh, carries
is nowhere near the truth, but instead
is immersed inside of the lie.
I tell you the truth, in response to your
acknowledgement of my faith in you
and you respond by treating me as if
you have no value for me whatsoever.
What tells you inside of yourself
to respond that way?
So, I make a play for you again,
not to make you mine..
but to remind you of who you truly are.
All of the healing you will ever need
is already inside of you.. through the
Image-bearing nature of the very core
of who you are. Its deep ache to permeate
your broken flesh is held at bay
by Love's beautiful choice to yield
to your own freedom of autonomy
Because love, without freedom
is not love at all--
but only control.. with a smile.
I weather your storms
because not even your own lack of
believing in yourself will ever
stop me from believing in you.
--And yes.. you are at times difficult--
sometimes to such a degree, that the dream
you actually are to me.. at those times
can feel to me as if instead,
like a bad nightmare..
But that is only the stupidity, of your flesh
and your own temporary stupidity of actually
believing that, in itself.. as if to be life..
and as if to be you.
You are my beautiful, forever
that will never, ever change.
One day you will see, beautiful girl.
I know that one day, you will see
#
Jun 8, 2021
Jun 8, 2021 at 5:52 PM UTC
not rooted,
not foundational,
but transitional,
I mean - tabernacle.
Following cloud and flame,
and restless for Jordan.
not stilted
not intellectual
but relational,
more than routine ritual.
Led by spirit, filled by flame
and restless for Jordan.
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 12:32 PM UTC
“Uni” consisting of one - one God of consistence
“verse” - His expression to all existence
The universe is finely tuned in mathematical formulas
The Maker’s way of coordinating an euphonious orchestra
No algorithm can describe - It’s undreamed of!
no song can measure the depth of His love.
But there is method to His heart
an ensemble He has chart
He had the future calculated all along
Jesus Christ- the bridge to His heavenly song
To save the lost - He paid the cost
And wrote the words which cleanse - Unwashed.
Through covenant He’s derived a relational endeavor
In hopes that you and I will make music with Him forever!
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 7:39 PM UTC
~~~
I pray this every morning.
And with every ♥ I put on your
Site I ask God to remember this
Prayer for you.
Creator Father,
**Jehovah Rohi ~ our Shepherd
Jehovah Nissi ~ our banner
Jehovah Rophe ~ our healer
Jehovah Jireh ~ our provider
Jehovah Shalom ~ our peace
Jehovah Shammah ~ our ever present help in times of trouble
Jehovah Tsidkenu ~ our righteousness
Jehovah M'Kaddesh ~ our sanctification**
God in all your manifestations
Be with my friends today.
Give them
*emotional
mental
physical
spiritual
relational (interpersonal)
marital
******
financial
educational
employmental
creative*
healing, growth and restoration.
Make every aspect of their humanity
WHOLE. HEALED. DELIVERED.
Let no weapon formed against them
prosper as it says in Isaiah 54:17
Let all who look upon them
do so with favor.
Place warring angels all around
them to protect them.
Put your loving arms around them
and bring them hope.
In Jesus Christ's Name I pray,
AMEN
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
You are the quake that sent me tumbling into
the places I didn't want to go
and the jagged edge that cracked my cranium open
sending my head to spin around the thought
I have never been home
until I break down the walls
that blocked the sunlight from my view
You've painted my ceiling with tomorrow
You are the cracks that made it my own
You have always been the irony
the non-relational and everything
The adjective and the adverb that confused my very soul
You were inside my head for the shortest time
which made me call it home
You are my familiarity and my unknown
the comely tragedy that goes on and on
I can never blame you for the things you haven't done
as it was I who claim you did
You taught me that the most difficult emotion there is
is the emotion when you think
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 11:48 PM UTC
The enjoyment of eating,
Marvels of television's ability to drown problems,
Games to replace reality was all he wanted.
The young life,
Reality,
Offered everything emotionally diabolic to a growing, developing mind.
Through ridicule from elementary peers; fat, ****** stinky or stinker or something relational.
Through defensive mechanisms of accepting ridicule from family.
Through seemingly harsh reactions to a young mind’s spoken word;
A growing trait to hide thoughts, emotions, began.
Speak and be brought into pits of embarrassment, hurt and hate?
The enjoyment of hiding, an escape.
A life sentence in confined silence -
Everything
Internalized.
Problems, actions, reactions, actions to be, thoughts and emotions occurring and to be, all internalized.
Unaware the implications were to be damaging later,
He proceeded to master the skills to hide in plain sight.
An arduous battle,
An escape from confinement to undo the silence,
Creating immunity to criticisms and differing opinions began.
Not without heightened defenses to new pressures,
Success was found.
Attempts made,
Success found,
Won battles,
The internal struggle of war with self continues at dreadful paces.
Thoughts to control past silence must always be on the offensive.
Control the defensive,
The strong silence.
Perhaps always and forever.
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
Procrastinating
At least it's with writing
Over a period of two days,
I had two inquiries of my own relational status
I also forgot milk, chicken, and various meat products
shoved together, shaped like tubes.
I switched my ring to my right hand
After that
Maybe people will get the picture
I'm not committed
There's no "other" to this significant
That sounds prideful
I don't mean it as such
I just know that I mean something
I'm here for something
That's more than I'd normally say on the subject
Downplay
I switched my ring to my right hand
Right before I got back all my various foods
I sit now, in a dimly lit living room
Illuminated with nothing but a distant light
And this computer screen
This poem has schizophrenic meanings
I hope I'm not committed.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 11:55 PM UTC
#Feb 27
*"Dear, complete and total ******* M Vogel:
Your account will be back to normal on Oct 27.*
Because our moderators have reviewed and agreed with the members' concerns about your work, this suspension cannot be reconsidered.
*Please read FAQs for more information..
Why did this happen?
'on **** love.. and helping my cute as **** stepsister become relational.' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
Jan 18
'on **** love.. and helping my cute as **** stepsister become relational.' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
Jan 18
'on **** love.. and helping the cute as **** daughter of the woman who likes my father, become relational. (rethemotherfuck,post) [and ex(themotherofthefuck)splicit]' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
52 seconds ago
'on **** love.. and helping the cute as **** daughter of the woman who likes my father, become relational. (rethemotherfuck,post) [and ex(themotherofthefuck)splicit]' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
52 seconds ago
'on **** love.. and helping my cute as **** stepsister become relational. (rethemotherfuck,post)' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
45 seconds ago
'on **** love.. and helping my cute as **** stepsister become relational. (rethemotherfuck,post)' was removed for 'Inappropriate/Obscene'
45 seconds ago
Please try to get in line with the quality and moral character of all our other writers on the site, or kindly ****
Love,
HP Moderation
(site de-scumbagging division)
"Hmmm..?"
~M Vogel
youtu.be/uXEUW792etk
*"umm..
I created this for children;; Children... understand?"*
~Elliot
youtu.be/54OYS_mZlBE
#
Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 5:50 PM UTC
We never spoke of love.
We spoke of cosmic miseries;
we spoke of falling statues;
we spoke of unsolved mysteries,
of the prevailing cultural attitudes.
We spoke of miscommunication
and Comedy and Tragedy as brothers;
we spoke of being lost and broken,
yet healed at the hearths of others.
We spoke of Winter's silent war
and how the Sun scared us both;
we spoke of wanderlust and bars
and how our lives were the funniest jokes.
We spoke of possibility,
in coded symbols and allegories,
of all the universes we wish we could be,
of all the things we'd do with wings.
We never spoke of love,
and yet,
somehow,
it's all we ever
talked about.
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 3:05 PM UTC
Disdain for
Traditional forms,
A sense of
Detached irony,
Self-reflexivity,
Expressed as a
Flagrant,
Meta-textual
Awareness,
adventurous
typography,
that defies
the common
relational schemes
between text
and margin
The juxtaposition
Of words
Governed by
Syllabic content,
and
freed
from
the
burden
of
syntactical
strictures
Meanings
Changed
Through
Inversion
(now read it upside down)
*
the
poem
recites
itself*
Paralyzed truth
Mimics brave fear,
Abdicating censure, and
Redressing allusion,
Liberation
abounds
in the trough
of a sine wave
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 12:11 PM UTC
We’re finally “together.”
It’s like a crash course on each other
After months of restraint I finally get to that “place” in you.
An intoxicating crash, our paths finally “collided”
And two human hearts beat fast,
With a relational feasting, a deepening
A seeping saturation with each other,
over-taking
And not realizing
A little scientific fact called:
Momentum.
We crashed and combined but could not stop and life has a way
Of moving you often and sadly,
People are intersections moved right through, because we all have
Different directions.
Courses connect and then somehow we just—
Well, it’s not that we forget.
It’s not even neglect
But a slow disparity collects
Whatever tugs us takes us and even if we don’t feel the pull
We feel the distance, when it’s full.
Our hearts are weak and light and we are flighty
And we don’t know when to fight
And even if we don’t mean to flee
People leave. It happens
See,
The way I saw it
Parallel was a pain.
Moving along the same course but never any collision, only frustration
Separate lines never meeting at a glorious point we could call us.
I said, better to have loved and lost
Than to love and love and love and never get there,
As if love is a destination.
But people don’t come with a “finish line”
There are no simple lines in love.
Nothing is straight--
We are fluid and incongruent
And swung by each other’s shifting weight.
Because, momentum keeps us moving and that movement is often claimed
By another little scientific fact called:
Entropy.
But if something huge
Something really huge that will not fail moves us then that means
It will not sway us.
It draws us not to each other, but to something much bigger, a much better “somewhere”
Then that little point us.
And when we’re both drawn to the same place
By the same force,
When we’re on the same course
Not as finish lines for each other
But as runners in the same race
As evidences of the same magnetic tug we try to trust
Too weak to be faithful satellites of each other
But revolving around the same one--
Then we’re truly together.
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 9:00 AM UTC
Can I ask for love
Without the romance
Without the slow dance
Without the holding of hands
Give the kiss, a miss
necklace and jewelries
without the emotional abuse
The manipulation we use
like flowers or presents
The chocolate selections
The dinner pretension
The relational misuse
and the facade we choose
When love in truth
is the exception
Sep 10, 2021
Sep 10, 2021 at 11:11 PM UTC
*Landscapes
easily overwhelm
but with persistence
each is multitude
of relational smaller..
recognize and
watch it expand
fill the mind
and universe...*
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
*Science
has searched for
those extra dimensions..
Fiction
imagines spaceship travel
wormholes as tunnels
to other worlds..
Perhaps your search
and mine should
turn around toward
vast innerspace..
Locate our center
as the place
all dimensions meet..
and our growth
frequent recognition of
a relational whole
lower and upper
edges and spirit...*
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
#D Vanlandingham
*Boundless..
In its ability to extend beyond all forms of containment;
the big circle contains within it, the little one
And if it is true relationship through genuine volition of the beloved
that is to be desired most of all,
then spirit, wrapped in flesh is the autonomy most needed
in order for the dream to become true.
Spirit is being.
Spirit cloaked in flesh is being--
feeling its relationship with its own self.
Spirit, mastering its own flesh by reigning in its emotions along
with the synaptic-firing of every one of its nerve endings into full
submission of the spirit's own core nature, is the root-basis of all true volition.
Spirit, in its raw form is perfect-- wholly unable to undergo
corruption, or decay..
but the flesh..
the flesh,
Always needing to substantiate itself through its never-ending layers
of self-promotion apart from the realities of its own spirit's core.
Yet, pure Love--
wholly unable to see itself as that which is to be rejected,
enters in to the very act of the rejection, itself;
..that autonomy may continue to contain
the uncorrupted core--
and the smaller circle becomes established:
smaller.. yes.. but in truth,
its parameters self stretch all the way out
to those of the bigger one
And so, with the necessary advent of autonomy
into the relational equation, comes also
The necessary advent of God's wholly-volitional
self-depletion of God.. entering, in to it all
so that, in time, God(Love) alone might take the full brunt
of rejection's unjust hit--
in its autonomous movement away
from its own incorruptible core..
away, from its own true self.
So, follow the smaller circle, if you will, my beautiful--
either way, you are still following God.*
#
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 8:57 PM UTC
The massive plastic rafts get passed on and
loads of new patrons climb aboard,
looking to face a hundred million gallons of white water,
and perhaps find something out there.
Our love has come and gone,
the trip down the Pigeon River behind us,
and we multitudes sorely pack the busses again.
We flop into out shared experience--
a brown leather seat with absolutely no buckles
in case of the end.
We are headed home.
The highway is constant and clear,
and the bus bucks and ebbs and soon
we are convinced it is the mother of us all.
The boy next to me begins to bob his head like a boat at sea
and soon, he capsizes onto my right shoulder.
I don't move, cherishing my place in his
momentary grace;
the calm part of his tumultuous river,
the cigarette to his stooping weathered old man.
Not after a long time,
he shakes awake,
lifts his head and is clearly embarassed.
He doesn't grin or apologize,
just makes small talk, moves slowly forward
down this relational river.
The kids on this bus see a tunnel coming towards us,
and it is subsequently announced.
"Tunnel ahead--everyone hold your breath!"
Everyone gasps as we enter the ground.
It is dark, and I am grateful for this moment,
and I breathe deeply for the first time
a breath not shared.
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
Extremists
tend to regard themselves
through a prism,
one of their own making,
faking exceptional,
answerable only
to their own scope for irrational
through which they see crystal clear
and consequently do not require
the inconvenience of relational,
the distraction of negotiational,
or those blind to their unique brand
of remarkable.
And occasionally, sadly,
they can sufficiently
fake credible to become
President
(which is not the same
as presidential).
Feb 25, 2022
Feb 25, 2022 at 9:15 AM UTC
It’s that my bedroom walls
Are two cupped hands, clammy
And cradling, how it feels inside
Of a sliced fish, pink sometimes
Too, like the gums lining eyes
Under a Spring sun
But they’re painted green,
The green of spotty mold florets
And planks with split ends
Shine like ironed dyed auburn hair
Molded in a cheap wax,
That never melts,
Though the desk lamp cheaply
Spotlights the thumbtacked
Rubric by the impotent light switch
And makes the doorknob warm
By association, it’s nice and still
So that I stay in here, developing
Absorbing phrases like “the
Activation of relational defenses”
Or ornamental gems from
The despondent Russian savants,
Even things that may be useless
(How to Clean Everything is turned,
binding back, bristles out, beneath
Popular Card Games, and I don’t
Own a deck of cards) that I still
Open and snack on in times
Of disorientation, and to go out
Would crumple the whole, delicate
Cocoon, the paper cloister, the
Draft that wafts around my hard and
Numb toes would escape
And I’d dry up like a defunct worm
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 3:59 PM UTC
*Sun hidden
subdued clouded
rays on this
June day..
Scaling of light
we respond
our internal scales
mirroring..
downcast some are
What matters though
are relational things
darkened contrasts..
A Wakened
relational spirit
may bring reward:
yesterday Sun...*
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
#
Your ******* when love-based
within their beautiful forming,
and then glorious unfolding
are Love and Light's extracorporeal
pulsings;
***focusing l o v e t on e d
sonic shockwaves directly at the machine's
extremely intricate innerworkings..***
Having, through years of horror-based
survival tactics; in desperation.. slowly learned;
now ingrained-- softening up the very
innerwall-linings of your very spirit
in such a way as to unknowingly
provide footing
for the machine's deep embedment,
and then, permeation of all things
previously, you..
having now enwrapped itself into
your very sinews
holding your precious spirit captive
from the the soar
These passionate, late night forays
outside the wire with you
are not exploitative, but instead
are love-driven deeply focused,
fully intentioned pingings of Light's
Relational sound waves
aimed directly at the beautiful you
held so tightly, so covetously by the machine
as your wonderfully nectar-filled body
responds late at night, aligning
to the me, you have come to know..
heightening your beautiful response
to the point of screaming, passionate release--
your own, fully love based..
extracorporeal..
unwelcoming, of the machine.
#
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 9:14 AM UTC
This may be the first time
I've let myself
Just be
listening to the blue calm
flow smoothly
through my veins
I hear my breath
shaped to the soft movement
of my lungs
This pearl energy
shifting
and comforting
the entity of me
Here I sit alone
independent from others
accepting
the
me.
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 5:06 PM UTC
Vote for me
I'll make sure thousands of people never escape poverty
I'll make them get on their hands and knees and crawl for me
Vote for me
I'm firmly for relational poverty
Don't worry
I'll make sure none of our businesses will have to have practices that are “above board”
Don't worry
I'll turn a blind eye to all the children in the fields
They need to support their families because I want their fathers to stay alcoholics and their mothers to be abused
In the hours that they are not in the fields I'll make sure they have bruises,
and not children,
to tend to
Vote for me
You would never vote for me,
Would you?
You would have to be insane
But don't you know that every dollar you spend is a vote?
When you buy from a company you're supporting their practices.
What are you voting for?
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 10:40 AM UTC
And so...
moreover- there came a time I thought
we should talk
But lessons in love,
are the lessons
it seems we're not told
or taught.
They're learned in time,
and the pain does lose its sting,
Well...
that depends.
I heard there was an interest;
On her part,
But that was quite some time ago.
Shorty after,
There was another interest.
I still haven't met him face to face.
But in that time I have truly met you.
There's something about timing,
How I can't get it right-
Now I'm tired.
Tired of dropping you off,
Saying goodnight, while not being able to say,
what's true on my mind.
Tired of waiting for break ups.
It probably won't happen and I'd be better off to just grow a pair.
Honesty...?
Well honestly-
I have thought about us.
I've thought about talking,
That's when I get stuck.
You don't bring him up.
Why won't she tell me?
Are you two in love?
Last time...
The only time-
You said you were, "unsure."
And I don't ever trust my interpretations.
So,
I hold on to hope.
Hope that there's strain;
A tension you face.
Relational strife of the misguided type,
The kind that you'll question-
Is this relationship right?
What a horrible hope.
I know.
It makes me a ****
What a tragically sinful idolatry slip.
But that's just me; always taking the throne.
It's not bad I don't like being or feeling alone.
Nor do I think it's good.
I would rather be confident, trustworthy and true.
Secure in real meaning, not "what if’s" of you.
Because without that,
Would I even be a good fit?
Doubtful.
I know you can't complete me;
I'd be sad to even think, or try.
But still...
I wonder how it would feel,
to sit across the table
on a real
date.
To share nibbles and bites from the meals on our plates-
reaching across- "do you want a taste?"
Hand me a fork with a morsel on end;
if I found it unpleasant, still, I'd pretend.
"Ummm that's good!"
Smile, and hand back your fork.
Then look in the eyes of someone,
who I trust
is my friend.
I guess I care.
I wish I'd dare to fill you in on that truth.
To not be so scared of these problems with youth.
All being said,
I'm left with attempts to let go.
To just move on,
and be content with the fact;
These lessons play the long game.
There's no instant glory, or spontaneous fleet,
And victory comes when we're knocked off of our feet.
So I've learned to take loss as a tally marked win.
Poor judgement call?
Maybe.
I'll find out in the end.
For now,
Let's keep talking.
I'll make prayerful pursuits.
And hope He sees fit...
To pair me with you.
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC
there we were
staring blankly at the screen
the error prompt called for
immediate demodulation
but it may as well been written in Latin
or Sanskrit –
I grabbed ahold of the digitizer with both hands
and began to **** and pry
which of course was not ergonomically correct
leaving me with a sore back and tattered finger skin
I caught the faintest sound
and thought maybe I had inadvertently tapped
into an alien frequency –
slowly it came clear to me that mainframe
only held a single kilobyte
and that with such a limited amount of storage
we would never reach the stars –
again, there came a slight modulation
with enough force to be considered noise
I instantly compared it
against the relational database
and realized, suddenly, that this had the potential
to be the real thing…
unfortunately I double checked with another terminal
and began to understand
what I was witnessing
was just a simple
user-friendly
videoconference –
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 4:48 PM UTC