"respiring" poems
Light , curvy rays,
bending,
while traveling from air to water world.
My eyelashes - window wipers.
Crystalline lenses,
sending lovely
but blurry pictures
wait.. let me focus my retina,
underwater dream,
or is it really you?
Dark, straight silhouettes,
frightening,
falling from the busy water above
My chest - darkened vents
reaching far,
wanting lovely,
but faint pictures
I can’t wait any longer,
for the dark room to lighten
I need you to show me
I take a deep breath
And dive in again.
Debrees of scars
And piercing pain.
Your soul still mauve and blue.
I press my lips
respiring pure love into you.
Breathe your best
into the spine of my life
Expelling fortitude
And forgiveness
Hidden in this deep blue
Revitalized for the first time
This moment opened its eyes
to see the beauty
of what beneath the surface lies
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
A cold October morning,
Treated just like the rest,
The boy awoke nauseous,
With a pain in his chest.
A longing for something,
Far out of his reach,
He settled for darkness,
Brushed red in between.
The pain became pale,
followed next by his skin,
Respiring so slowly,
The lights going dim.
Adrift into nothing,
What feels like a dream,
Is death coming slowly,
A dying brain's final feed.
"Is this what it feels like to be dead, I think I like this feeling"
Awoken abruptly,
Surrounded by fear,
Who are all these people,
and how'd he get here.
Looking up from his back,
A tear falls from her eye,
"Relieved" does her no justice,
For not having to say...
Goodbye..
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 5:00 PM UTC
From the very far dark, deep and beating black,
there’s ghost breath, and blue light after,
where I un-broke myself,
next morning.
I’m under, curled to a pupil
of the bed’s eye,
so I blink the dream out.
Asleep, plants are respiring,
and the loam of their dream
is lifting, thinner.
Then the real interrupts,
erupting as a day,
and shimmering back again.
Like the shore that shares it’s time
between sand and ocean.
A fully open cup
fills up in the moment,
wherein that infinite shrinks,
and the universe grows backwards,
backwards Into,
cold coffee and dog ends.
Strange that.
It's not a nocturne,
It's an echoe of a day,
It's a memory of a memory,
It's a remora on reality.
Strange that.
why when last night,
my ashtray was full of stars.
The clock infinitely deepens
the memory of the dream.
But it’s there,
only just there.
That maybe, perhaps, dreaming of us,
somewhere in the brightest time of the night,
somewhere in sleep,
in the inbetween spaces,
somewhere there,
we left ourselves in mermaid’s purses.
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 1:09 PM UTC
Dominoes
tumble sunk
chests respiring
*Olas.
Olas.
Olas.*
Short boards
spiral; foam
chaoes closing
*Olas.
Olas.
Olas.*
howls
swell purple;
storm out slowly
*Olas.
Olas.
Olas.*
Wet suits
pepper
whitewash winter.
*Olas.
Olas.
Olas.*
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 6:30 PM UTC
The good verb “conn”
supersedes nounsies that say much the same
they leave their mark
and their stain.
organelles are found in living cells
but bacteria is barely surviving -
gasping, respire, respiring
god will swallow death as sure as sheol
still,
the microbes must thrive
one sloppy, the other ill
a slender hand of steel
excites it,
like the splendor of redwood mounted on peach
a cleavage emerges (causing a **** to swell)
increasing her capacity for desire
a seeker of truth now bound for duluth?
caught in an ice floe
preoccupied by the last degree
pulling shoals
of distance below,
the south pole is now our goal,
we land on land beyond sea
and space
where a wise man plays fool
to a young girl's angel face -
as an aside: he likes her
but she is not attracted to men or goys,
scattering the cremains
of
a nobody's boy
(a boy we tried to revive many a time)
into a river where the river never ends
he remains
sinking into darkness,
adrift in a pit
of lips of labrum
down the chosen depths
of the frozen abyss of Tehom
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 9:30 PM UTC
Your Marilyn Monroe face is coating me in nostalgia.
There's old school Hollywood appeal about you that's keeping me still and set in my ways, because how could I be mobile looking at the iconic images of you?
For you gave me refuge from my purgatory, I'm stuck here in my bedroom, your scenes each carefully curated by Billy Wilder or God...
I've heard you're a dying breed but you're so full of life and charisma.
Oh, I know it's hopeless,
But it's been remastered time and again,
1080p being the latest format to get my heart racing,
Letting your DVD spin to the point of exhaustion.
It's very consequential and I'm still betting on this,
I can't take your word as gospel when I feel you in my ribs...
I'm painfully asthmatic and respiring on your sighs.
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
Your Delicate, Char, Intoxicating, eyes are foretelling,
yearning
for I,
But your heart is disdained ,
Wandering,
Fragile and remote from the affection thrown to you,
Possibly distress and Remitting,
Respiring explanations and justifications,
My declarations are not near as endearing as yours,
Heed my words,
My ambition,
Desire,
Inclination,
Will power,
Wish,
Beyond all ,
Become my completed whole,
Admitting My Dear is as painfully to be pure ,
I Shall withstand it,
No other shines ,
Or reflects rays of the heavens,
From above and beneath,
My sinful demand is and Only One,
Be mine.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 1:32 AM UTC
In a place
where no one
but we, between
sun set and rise
a cut of bamboo
is fused and the
coffee cup brimful
to the lip, the
label uplifted to the
next level and
sloshed on a lovely
sharing hours,
slowly we muted
and respiring like
a new combustion
engine of a new
2020 Mercedes Benz
car racing on pure
coal tar high road
Nov 14, 2020
Nov 14, 2020 at 6:42 PM UTC
Earthen roads spring alive with berm-gardens,
Thistles, and animals’ connive,
A country road the blows the dust
Off the porch, so that it’s just
Us.
When the time comes
that we arrive to claim the hills over there,
Command honey evenings
I, the colt, you, the mare
Transformed by winds, raw from the pastoral
Over-there,
It gives to us the boundless open dome
Free to graze
Free to roam
Where we shall know finally what it’s like to be home.
The homes, they spring by diving arms
Growing strong and respiring clouds
Of coaly waste
That eat the clarity of austere farms
And every life of put-upon
Denature, contorted as the victim-fawn,
Bloating with guts the hue of oil
Strewn by a semi’, in two drawn
An image that takes some getting used to.
And yet, this is only natural to be one with the aluminum blood
That runs in the veins of pale concrete to its beating heart
A healthy babe born of predation
A community called Animosity,
Where a life affirmed is a life denied
Though it be a bridge ‘cross chasms to prosperity,
Hold it close,
For they are deep and one United States wide.
The entrails rot on the city face, spelling out
“Payment,” on the pavement, the street
Maggots reeking, thriving in carrion
Smiling as they urge me, of course
Carry on,
That all will be well in time.
My beautiful mare turns from the hills
Her eyes now glow cinereal
How wretched she stands my side
Her heart now a mirror for how mine feels:
Drawing on love, the general kind.
Such life of hers
Such of mine
Betoken a passion, in its turn, an ill
Then to two ridges, shorn by pure will,
And still we congeal two passions to fill it
‘Till a fibrillating heart beats the color
Of ****
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 11:01 AM UTC
Fall into love,
like the waves on the sand.
The land and the sea,
our tides hand in hand.
Breath life into living,
respiring the seasons.
Be like the sun,
shine needing no reasons.
Recall friendly memories,
and laugh in despair.
A world with no smile
has no pride left to bare.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 5:52 AM UTC
Heart-Pounding,
Beating out of my chest even.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Lips Quivering,
Teeth lightly nibbling the inner lining of my mouth.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Clouded Vision,
Constant tears dripping down my cheek.
Deep breath in, deep breath up.
Hands Trembling,
Objects easily slipping from my grasp.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Unruly Speech,
Unwanted whispers rolling off my tongue.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Limited Oxygen,
Panting heavily in a struggle for air.
Deep breath…
Wait.
Stop.
Think.
Why must we always take a breath?
Why must we be forced to push away our emotions,
Masking them with the habitual action of meditative respiring?
Why must we always breathe in, breathe out?
But are we really disguising our emotions?
Are we not just calming the soul,
Clearing the mind of unwanted thoughts and anxieties?
Are we not just providing ourselves with healing,
Alleviation from the painful memories engulfing the mind?
Yes.
Yes, we are.
So…
Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Quiet the pounding of your heart.
Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Tranquilize the tremulousness of your lips.
Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Stop the flow of your once never ending stream of tears.
Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Relax the overactivity of your limbs.
Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Replace your anxious whispers with peaceful meditations.
Deep breath in, deep breath out,
Rectify your oxygen flow.
Don’t mask your emotions,
Regulate your responsiveness.
Evaluate your situation.
Intelligently weigh your decisions.
Dominate your way of thinking.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
It works.
I promise.
Aug 11, 2020
Aug 11, 2020 at 10:43 PM UTC
respiring corridors
interior hospital night
outside
silenced
the winter
away facing
patient pacing
in palliative care
for the age-ed out expiring
iterations of ejecting death
darkly dressed haggy wet breaths
beds engaged
berths of great ferment
corridor ; raked in
corridor ; ridden out squalling
a patient who has yet to reach
the concluding condition of his fellows
bellows
'Shut The **** Up'
mad for sleep
he's lost compassion
The corridor labours on
Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 7:13 PM UTC
The scent of creamy hot cocoa pervades,
creeping up my nose.
The childhood I never had,
a warmth I’ve never known.
The sound of the nocturnals humming a life worth living.
I imagine I am one—foraging, longing.
I inhale the smoke of burnt beans,
the bitter taste of an existence unwanted.
Empty expectations fill my lungs,
a cold sky, a fantasy hillside.
I exhale—half a hope
vanishing as if it never was.
I regret respiring
an act just because.
You choose, you privileged fool
pick one from the lowly hopefuls!
find your preference in the end
But just once, make amends!
See me:
A fertile rice field, ripe for harvest.
A single-colored pasture, silently sprouts.
Yet too uniform to be noticed,
too plain to stand out.
Use your senses, you peculiar bull
I'm crawling inside your skull!
Haunting, pressing your mind,
reaching those that unwind.
RECOGNIZE ME, CONSIDER ME, SPLIT ME, DISENGAGE ME,
CUT ME, SORT ME, ISOLATE ME, BOUND ME,
KNEAD ME, WRING ME, DIGEST ME, INFURIATE ME
THROW ME DOWN, PULL ME UP,
DISCARD ME FOREVER.
I'll be gone—like half a hope,
evaporating as if it never was.
It dissolves into mist,
in the cold sky, a fantasy hillside.
I'll return, as smoke from burnt beans.
A ghost beside the rice field.
The pasture with budding growth.
A whisper lost in cocoa's warmth.
The life I never had.
The luxury you wasted, driving you mad.
Apr 15, 2025
Apr 15, 2025 at 2:38 AM UTC