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"retentions" poems
<> "And then one day you came back home You were a creature all in rapture You had the key to your soul And you did open that day you came back to the garden The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine And you were a violet colour as you Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden The summer breeze was blowin' on your face Within your violet you treasure your summery words And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden" In the Garden, song by by Van Morrison <> ***This touches me deep in the chest cavity, the palpitations of its internalizing echoing cavitations, a warning, go slow, choose your words wise and accrue, the mood, for the ache of creating, hurts, fevers me for I am but steps away from the garden, and its violet hues infused with fresh sunrising golden hazes, with kindly warmth, with warming kindnesses, touches, caresses my shoulders, begs me to stop crying, overcome, for I am overcome, eyes dropping wetting droplets, for find myself at the intersection, interlocking crossroads where perfect perfection begins and must meet its natural endings thoughts of capture, retentions, preservations, all impossibilities, challenges, see me, begging itinerant muses in the neighborhood to guide my hand, teach me newsome words, mine feel so old, so unworthy of this moment, hearing me solicit their Treasure of Summery Words but they won't, excusing themselves, that this in particular human has exercised, exorcised, all the tools in his ever diminishing capacity, time insufficient to learn a new calculus of addition and bid me calm my heaving chest, seize my tears, just add them to the brackish salted waters steps awaiting away live in this moment live within this poem, revisit it frequent, weep no more, your stilling heart weakened, take fast what is given now, and be contented, your treasury chest is full, overflowing with this summary of summery*** but I am not, cannot… 7:48:am jul 22
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Jul 22, 2025
Jul 22, 2025 at 8:03 AM UTC
Within your violet, you treasure your summery words...
<> "And then one day you came back home You were a creature all in rapture You had the key to your soul And you did open that day you came back to the garden The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine And you were a violet colour as you Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden The summer breeze was blowin' on your face Within your violet you treasure your summery words And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden" In the Garden, song by by Van Morrison <> ***This touches me deep in the chest cavity, the palpitations of its internalizing echoing cavitations, a warning, go slow, choose your words wise and accrue, the mood, for the ache of creating, hurts, fevers me for I am but steps away from the garden, and its violet hues infused with fresh sunrising golden hazes, with kindly warmth, with warming kindnesses, touches, caresses my shoulders, begs me to stop crying, overcome, for I am overcome, eyes dropping wetting droplets, for find myself at the intersection, interlocking crossroads where perfect perfection begins and must meet its natural endings thoughts of capture, retentions, preservations, all impossibilities, challenges, see me, begging itinerant muses in the neighborhood to guide my hand, teach me newsome words, mine feel so old, so unworthy of this moment, hearing me solicit their Treasure of Summery Words but they won't, excusing themselves, that this in particular human has exercised, exorcised, all the tools in his ever diminishing capacity, time insufficient to learn a new calculus of addition and bid me calm my heaving chest, seize my tears, just add them to the brackish salted waters steps awaiting away live in this moment live within this poem, revisit it frequent, weep no more, your stilling heart weakened, take fast what is given now, and be contented, your treasury chest is full, overflowing with this summary of summery*** but I am not, cannot… 7:48:am jul 22
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64
Let's stop mid-scream and steal a moment of sanity Hold on to your vanities, your profanities Let me help Let me tell you a story 'Tis grim and gory Follow me home, follow me home Make me feel unsafe Make me feel like prey In this jungle of concrete and brick Your judgements are bullets With eyes for triggers **** me. Intentions, retentions, preventions Our sinful innocence will be the end of us We walk into burning buildings Yet we are not fireproof We have never been Fireproof.
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Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 4:15 AM UTC
Fireproof
These cold months leave me haggard Breathless, as I struggle to regain my grip Slipping through plains of uncertainty Seeking that evasive simplicity Scoffing at past words of comfort That so gallantly wrapped the falsehood Of time and its fabled curative powers How I have been eagerly deceived Jaded breath travels forward Seeking concord in old and battered retentions To only be limited by brooding reality Where lays my pool of forgetting? Utterances wisp past insistently Avowing it to be just beyond While others toy and slowly slither Hissing of its non-existence By miscalculating step I fumble Mind drained of all, but shelled rummage As it seeps into my frame Ever hunting that eradicating amnesia
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 5:03 PM UTC
Elusive Winter
A happenstance in a wintery afternoon bounded by the shreds of earthly stance beyond the gift of the spaced bond rays at the gaze of an unknown captive glazes on a gentle voice of an unsung dormancy On the sphere of these cases of first times Sometimes when you awake in the void inside the hollow chord of my existence at the heart of the merge where we entwine then drown as kindred uncaged birds On the sphere of these cases of first times At times when you fit inside my finds away from the edgy torrential cliffs of tales   connected in the alignments of a blissful vent untensed and piously mused and attentive On the sphere of these cases of first times everytime amused by a blossoming seam a field alertness of all balanced conceptions retentions, corrections, revisions, intuitions where your mind holds the nature of mine On the sphere of these cases of first times anytime in a world of relentless evanescence as I drift in the rhythmic nature of our souls doused inside the deepest lakes of your remedies unchained in the pure wonder of your brilliance
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Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 7:53 AM UTC
Sphered Cases of First Times
I lack complete memories there exists but fragments From incidents that took place sometime ago Like ricochets left behind in the wake of a fired bullet They contain no context nothing tangible to recall   But abstract retentions from the distant past such as my father’s voice Or my mother’s smile intertwined with my brother s laugh My company psychiatrist diagnosis is PTSD I whole heartedly object and resentfully disagree It was like this before the second Gulf even before Kandahar Ever before the war broke my bleeding heart The immortal last words of Andy to his best friend Red Pretty much sums up my infatuation on lost time and absent reminiscences which I won’t evoke As I choose not to because I rather not; hence I quote ‘’You know what the Mexicans says about the Pacific They say it has no memory That’s where I want to live the rest of my life A warm place with no memory’’
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Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
The Pacific
Grandest mothers of infinity Hydrogen powered entities seasoned in the golden years of expanding illuminating the universe peering from my night sky Exploding your cosmic rich guts to form our eclectic experience From love thirsty suffering endless happiness Iron sprinting in my heart and veins from the bellies of gas burning fiery giants shine their smiles with beautiful faces Flares shooting from a creator that does not think or feel-just acting as an is Born from tightly hugged and squeezed by gravity’s riches swirled for billions of years until bam! A sun god is born Conceived in the universes filaments Of still gases huddling up against the cold dark reaches of outer space voidness Precursors to intelligent life waiting for it’s first blinking eye with a tear holding a caress Emptiness turning into something with viewable aesthetics drawing musically shredding pleasuring our minds Until our stars grow then donated to universal orphans waiting to be born as poets or fools Musicians Artists Or human pollutants Ignorant to the grand exoskeleton of the bunched galaxies entwined into filaments stringing along Harmoniously singing in non audible dimensions All galloping apart faster than seconds ago Faster than physical perceptions-only godly retentions Expanding energy from mass accelerated times human perception unknown Like mysterious love letters place in a lavish garden for one’s truly Like minuet ancient footprints in antique beach sea soggy sand Transcending our space and concealed time locked in your heads As we sleep worlds without end spinning weeping
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Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
Cosmic brothers and sister listen
Grandest mothers of infinity Hydrogen powered entities seasoned in the golden years of expanding illuminating the universe peering from my night sky Exploding your cosmic rich guts to form our eclectic experience From love thirsty suffering endless happiness Iron sprinting in my heart and veins from the bellies of gas burning fiery giants shine their smiles with beautiful faces Flares shooting from a creator that does not think or feel-just acting as an is Born from tightly hugged and squeezed by gravity’s riches swirled for billions of years until bam! A sun god is born Conceived in the universes filaments Of still gases huddling up against the cold dark reaches of outer space voidness Precursors to intelligent life waiting for it’s first blinking eye with a tear holding a caress Emptiness turning into something with viewable aesthetics drawing musically shredding pleasuring our minds Until our stars grow then donated to universal orphans waiting to be born as poets or fools Musicians Artists Or human pollutants Ignorant to the grand exoskeleton of the bunched galaxies entwined into filaments stringing along Harmoniously singing in non audible dimensions All galloping apart faster than seconds ago Faster than physical perceptions-only godly retentions Expanding energy from mass accelerated times human perception unknown Like mysterious love letters place in a lavish garden for one’s truly Like minuet ancient footprints in antique beach sea soggy sand Transcending our space and concealed time locked in your heads As we sleep worlds without end spinning weeping
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Swam these waters, Tasted these dreams, Felt these desires, Wasted in screams, Loved in excitement, Pleasured by pain, Torn from contentment, Feeling so strange, Embraced in memories, Hidden from regrets, Laced in elegances, Hoping to forget, Kept from decisions Held in distension, Caged by emotions, World of retentions, All in the scope of the minds most curiously created contention.
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
Ocean of consciousness...
“I do not know when love became evanescent, I know not of another that has felt this way, Your name is a hand I can never hold or embrace, Love for her now became a smoldering virtue, I think of lovers as trees growing to and fro, Always searching for the same light sun shines, A photo of thee in my pocket that has wilted away, I seem to grow accustom to loss and dealing with it, My life has become the coincidence of a bad retention, Retentions of sight sound and fear of distant apparitions, I then wonder did she ever really love me did she even care, Her utterance faded and lost its way over her tongue, How I loved thee with all my sanity and integrity, How your love brought me comfort to my abysmal life, Now my love merely brought more pain than deserved, Her love now nothing but ardent wilderness with no mist, Physique of this matron the dexterity shall I seek, My aridity for thee my ardor for thee is perennial, Oh great ocean of the sea that barrows fools along, Conveying forth afore forlorn subsidies of homage, Drab tears of the sea eternal thirst for thee follow me, As my apathy follows with such abiding anguish, Conatus to alleviate my anima in the deep blue” By Andrew Guzaldo 08/24/2018 ©
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 7:08 PM UTC
“CONATUS ALLEVIATE”
My heart thumps like the vibrant and passionate drums of the Congo as I begin to relay the events of my childhood Like a 1954 VCR stuck on rewind my mind paces swiftly through the cosmos of my retentions, But it’s all just an animated blur, As the clock turns and time embarks on its age old journey to the vastness of its continuum I begin to float deeper into the vastness of my recollections, I catch a glimpse of serenity through a sheet of opaque glass, I see me! With clear focus I see myself as a cheerful kid without a care in the world, I was but a mere infant to this infamous and masterfully created mechanism they call life, Its complex formulas codes and algorithms a mystery to man and a masterpiece to its creator, its beauty hidden in the most sacred and innocent places , Yes the same life that is ever so eager to smugly and violently recycle and re-reposition people in an instant was radiating from me like a translucent light bulb in the still of the darkest night, it’s easy to cry and say it’s not right how life never seems to do you right and blend in with the night, Its easy to become a backdrop and forget that you are the light that gives many others sight, Problem is you perceive life as a tyrant forget your part and try run from it but you’re the main star you just can’t afford it, So stand up and run towards it ,it’s yours to mould so get up and own it, See it took me less than an instant as I left behind the former I mean the mental state of an infant to comprehend that to run life’s extreme distance you need to wear the shoes of persistence or assume the heavy burden of insignificance , As the clock turns get up and live it make it yours one shot is all you got its best you use it.
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Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 6:32 AM UTC
As the clock turn
My heart thumps like the vibrant and passionate drums of the Congo as I begin to relay the events of my childhood Like a 1954 VCR stuck on rewind my mind paces swiftly through the cosmos of my retentions, But it’s all just an animated blur, As the clock turns and time embarks on its age old journey to the vastness of its continuum I begin to float deeper into the vastness of my recollections, I catch a glimpse of serenity through a sheet of opaque glass, I see me! With clear focus I see myself as a cheerful kid without a care in the world, I was but a mere infant to this infamous and masterfully created mechanism they call life, Its complex formulas codes and algorithms a mystery to man and a masterpiece to its creator, its beauty hidden in the most sacred and innocent places , Yes the same life that is ever so eager to smugly and violently recycle and re-reposition people in an instant was radiating from me like a translucent light bulb in the still of the darkest night, it’s easy to cry and say it’s not right how life never seems to do you right and blend in with the night, Its easy to become a backdrop and forget that you are the light that gives many others sight, Problem is you perceive life as a tyrant forget your part and try run from it but you’re the main star you just can’t afford it, So stand up and run towards it ,it’s yours to mould so get up and own it, See it took me less than an instant as I left behind the former I mean the mental state of an infant to comprehend that to run life’s extreme distance you need to wear the shoes of persistence or assume the heavy burden of insignificance , As the clock turns get up and live it make it yours one shot is all you got its best you use it.
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