"rigidness" poems
that was notorious when you hide while looking at yourself in mirror
you wish like fantasy you could cut your age with mind of scissors
there was disappointment for that few white hairs which could not hide
cleverly mind said maturity is by my side and now vision is wide
skin getting lose but rigidness and flexibility getting tight
i am not bored from getting pump up ideas my experience are right
how long can i sustain new ideas decision making must come to rest
who knows better than me what is good and what is best.
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 8:05 PM UTC
Why doesn't my boyfriend want to hold my hand anymore?
It's always been clammy and frigid,
though I suppose it has gained this new
rigidness.
And no one wants to feel responsible
for a dead weight abandoned
in the palm of his hand.
And because it's my lifeless hand,
severed with all the fixings,
rabid and unruly,
nipping at the palm that smothered the life out of it,
Because of this,
he can't even pass it off
as a gag paperweight for Bill at the office.
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
THIS IS A CALL TO ARMS TO ENFOLD ANYONE WE CAN REACH
We are malnourished of blankets and binkies
Mother’s breast and meaning
We are earthquake spirit lands rumbling for peace
We are a bright light that plays on squinted eyelids so that you may see
We are the kaleidoscope of what is and what could be
We are
KINGS AND QUEENS
Not worker bees.
We are dry mouths and cracked lips thirsty
Drinking crying eyes and kissing empty hands
THIS IS WHAT I FEEL FROM THE TIED DESOLATION OF A PROMISED LAND
We are seraphim
Selling ourselves on suburban streets
We are cherubs
Peddling angel dust to children’s gums
Slipping LSD under their tongues
HOW FAR WE HAVE STRAYED FROM OUR RIGHTOUS PATH!
We are a fall from grace that knocks the air from chests
So we may realize what it is to BREATH!
IN! OUT!
We are One from within
With or without sorrows or the tedium of tomorrow
We are our crystal innocence and reptilian rigidness
We are a mirror
Reflective of all that surrounds us
We are the lush trees and the desolate land bound by fences and man’s prosperity
We are the lake
Warping realities reflection with ripples and rhombuses that wrinkle our surface with every stone skipped
Galaxies teeming underneath
TAKE OFF!!!!
Become what we didn’t know
Find the eternal reassurance that no matter what will be, is, or was, WE WILL BE!
https://soundcloud.com/spiritbarehear/call-to-arms
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 5:41 PM UTC
I stopped looking for you in the sun and the stars
you don’t belong there
you will never do them justice.
When I look up at the night sky absolutely mesmerized by the possibility of such beauty I no longer think of you.
You belong on earth, so grounded by your own rigidness that flight is impossible.
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 6:25 PM UTC
Ballerina's feet
are calloused
twisted
bruised and ugly from far too much use
My friends and I used to compare the carnage
which we called, forgivingly, feet
I was never much a dancer
Flexible, but ungainly
I could lift my leg over my head and hold it for a minute
keep time to music
but there was something about the rigidness of it that I never quite-
I loved it
sweet passion of a not so distant youth
and my feet were always the most battered
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
And I love your Saturn hands
the knotted slim fingers
fixed in your fawn fine hair
long 'round your fine mirror accented face
crystal blue eyes that might otherwise send someone into 10 story ocean waves
should I come too close, I'm sure I'd have more than myself to save
Your dry weathered thumb brush my flustered lips
It looks like we're now apart of the papacy
creating an obvious contrast of our opposing polarities
Something in the way that winter craves to reach this upcoming spring
Hard tailored to the rules of some domestic order
the rigidness in your loving touch
leaves the eyes of my heart wide
Can you walk into me, several times more
It wont break the ties that bind our instincts
but It'll give me tastes of what free people enjoy
Kiss me, with more than what it normally takes
we're both starving to breathe
into another
into another
Just as it rains do we lose your leather jacket
that identity we cant force ourselves to leave
Rain to our face
wettness between our smother
lavish expressons of what we hope our wild selves to explore
water to this drought
for which we suffer and for what reasons no-one spoken truely
can they say
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
I know a man who melted in the layers of my skin
And I will call him Icarus, now where do I begin -
I met him in the middle of the earth and all its time
A moment I cannot recall, a true forever's why
The wax from every question mark his mind could ever draw
Had taken on another form, a vein he never saw
And so it was a pair of eyes much different from his own
Became a house he'd recognize and even call his home
The company he found within enabled him to wake
A kind of curiosity he fought but couldn't shake
For underneath the rigidness his character sustained
Was but a man alive and well with everything to gain
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
Her fragile bones ache
With the remembrance
Of hands grasping
At her empty forms
And voices cooing lies
Of calmness
Her skin was pins and needles
And her mind screamed no
Each kiss pierced her soul
And with each whisper
She wished for death
His body,
Pressing hard into hers,
Caused an explosion of rigidness
Arms forcing action
Out of her lifeless form
Small whimpers escape through her mouth
While her mind is screaming
NO
Her bones shatter
And her heart aches
Tears fall
And silence breaks
He is done
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 10:34 AM UTC
On the surface, we're fine
We are friends, we are partners.
Who would know
that underneath that cleverly crafted facade
we're standing here, head to head
unable to move forward.
We are right and we are wrong
we can never come to an end
we can never compromise, it seems
for any little step in my direction
is far to big of one for you
you want exactly what you want
nothing more
nothing less
and anything but is something that angers you
frustrates you
and does the same for me.
You're just as guilty as I
in this deadly game of chess
but where I am willing to bend
your rigidness will cause you to break
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 1:54 AM UTC
I long for our time together.
The ecstasy of every moment.
Together we are a cascading waterfall,
of emotions, imagery, beauty and thought.
I crave the words and phrases that tumble
from your hard tipped lips.
I kiss and nibble your ivory skin,
brandishing the white with my own red ink.
The soft pale caress of our utterance
as your body swells and spills over
with my elaborate thoughts and deepest desires.
The sweet subtle change from
empty to full as I drink in and confess
every penetrating whisper
and every delicate moan onto thee.
I yearn to explore the strong rigidness
of you between my long silken finger tips.
I let loose and fly across this fleshy tundra,
as we merge completely and deeply every introspection.
A timeless moment of expression hidden secretly
in every inhale and exhale.
Expressions of the most profound;
love and lust
Reality and fiction
chaos and order
pain and pleasure
All of this I bestow on thee
waiting and timed just right
for that ever exquisite moment
of perfect unity.
As an ending ****** pulls and rips
its way through the soft tissues
of our souls, the most flawless
cries escape for us to behold.
The flooding release of one's own soul
as the body tremors and shakes
with its final gasps and goes limp
to lie in its final resting place.
But knowing you my dearest lover,
you shall never allow me the luxury
of repose for I give birth to spirit,
mind, body and soul.
And we shall ravenously dance
again and again, for that
haughty cycle shall never end
as I confess forever and ever
my very being and lay in wait
to be read and to be seen.
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 7:33 PM UTC
Perhaps another world exists,
Where all is pure and limitless,
And light shines on shadowed mist,
That dampens every moments bliss.
Perhaps this other world exists,
Where no mundanities of life persist,
And from the depths of the abyss,
Love escapes its rigidness.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 6:48 PM UTC
Gently,
ever-so gently,
I am covered by
your succulence,
sweet parted-lips
upon sweet parted-lips,
I eagerly search
your soft-folds
with such tenderness.
O what delight,
there is no fight,
but harmony!
A warm-moistness
engulfs,
surrounds
my rigidness,
consummating
our sensuous-act,
this sacred-gift,
a smothering of Heaven.
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 7:54 AM UTC
A conquer of my dreams, reality, perspective in hand and in whole
Was just yesterday when she stood tall
Against an evergreen mountain
The wind's whisps
leaving lashes on her face
At an elevation like this one could smell renewal a rejuvenating aroma
As her breath travel to her navel in one
Quick motion
A blissful feeling of longing she always
Put herself on the pedestal
Knowing the self rejoicing rigidness
Her self-worth shone to be
An everlasting fire planted a seed
In the midst of her heart
An unshakable clarity and belonging
Swarmed her body in one action
As her mind drifted into a seemingly everlasting relaxation
In one exhalation drawing hands to the chest one palm ontop the other
She finally understood
A gift larger than life so valuable
That can only be acquired through
Real acceptance, the unconditional expression of self-love
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 5:45 AM UTC
For all the years I live,
Add an eternity to that number,
And surely I won’t forgive
The missing dreams of untried slumber.
Radiant light becomes forgotten
In a darkening flit of mutiny,
The core of hope left rotten,
A result of bitter scrutiny.
Mixing up a varied blend
Of failure and of loss.
With distaste for what I cannot mend,
The torments of my world to toss.
My time rests in the shade
Of towering walls that barricade,
To protect the solitary blade
That unaware I myself had made.
As I watched reality slowly fade,
With wishful thinking that allowed—decayed.
A stubborn refusal to catch the hook,
Blinded, for my gaze I took,
Away from fortunes streaming brook,
To settle in my troubled nook.
Reflectively my head I shook,
For all I had to do was look.
Maybe another world exists,
Pure joyous and limitless,
Where I’ve chosen to resist,
The lonely climb of rigidness.
My soul to shine with light persists,
Expose my dreams and with it bliss,
Without regret, without a miss,
Under the veil of a hopeful mist.
It’s always time to contest
The false projections that manifest.
Finally with a subtle moments rest,
To ponder interests that were in my best
And heed self afflicting plight, lest…
We not forget how much life is surely blessed.
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 11:24 AM UTC
it's one thing that philosophy dismissed
poetry, but it's another that psychiatry did
likewise, interpreting poetry as madness, esp.
western haiku is better than the Freudian
interpretation of dreams; can you believe
the unconscious holes hidden in western
interpretation of *** poetry?
the way you can weave an essay into a few words,
is like fidgeting a theory with
a few images - although the former is less
inclined to a rigidness, and more inclined to
a rubber-band elasticity -
Freud had a few images to work from given
we experience dreams in nanosecond intervals
given the overall mundaneness of a 8 hours repose -
but imagine injecting an essayist's
interpretation of a haiku akin to some psychiatrists
spotting Pythagoras rubbing a tree
for Greenpeace with an *********** of triangles & apples,
like Freud with some rich kid paying for his
opera visits of castratos singing: la dolce vita...
i mean the ******* iceberg...
a few words in haiku are bopping along to
the tides from the Arctic, yet beneath them a
mass of narratives, even the Beijing waiters reminisce
recitations from school to this Mao revolution
syllabus... the unconscious meaning: fill in the gaps...
mathematically? algebra...
after all, very few people experience
'Houston, we have a problem' moments.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
Love was black,
and love was white.
I though I knew -
or was I told? -
the meaning.
Told.
Told, with a rigidness.
Told, with a consequence.
Because if it's not black,
and it's not white,
it's worthless.
But then that pure white,
darkened.
But then that pious black,
lightened.
Until it was the perfect
shade of gray.
And now I forget,
The deepness of that black
And the gleam of that white,
For gray is all I know.
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 1:08 AM UTC
A fleet and fickle thing
With a choke hold on my ambition
Darling,
I'd sell my soul to see
Sand trapped in the sieve,
or the light trapped in your eyes
Intoxicated by rigidness
Drunken on standards of perfection
Pour down my throat
The blades that scab, scar
Tear my skin
Until i'm the epitome of your gaping void
Paragon to hopeless idealism
While juxtaposed to idealized fault
Still found to be lacking
So I quit pushing
So I can be swept under
In a different direction
Free...
From your good intentions
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
it’s been snowing all day and any semblance of spring that was evident yesterday is now covered up and gone. i feel i may never escape this season and all that it has brought me. i can’t seem to keep warm, to unfurl my body from the rigidness it has been stuck in since october. i look back on old photos from when the leaves were changing and the air had a cool, crisp smell to it and i barely recognize myself in them. no amount of makeup can cover up the veins of jagged cracks that were left behind after the wake of it all. it keeps me up at night that the fact a boy i knew for maybe five minutes occupies my mind more than the boy i spent over a year with. it bothers me that i allow myself to think about either of them, two boys who gave me nothing in return. it bothers me that my memory is so hazy and that remembering the good times are becoming harder and harder to reach. it bothers me that i don’t have the strength some days to make an effort to think about what i want. i’m so used to molding myself to the whims of others in an effort to keep the peace that i’m beginning to wither and fade, suffocating under the frigid vastness of this unrelenting season.
2 march, 2014
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
as haunting
as the rigidness of your back
or suppleness of where that straight line leads
Apr 15, 2012
Apr 15, 2012 at 6:14 PM UTC
*Know not the rigidness of my eyes
Or the scent of my skin
As once did the picture on my face imply
For I am blameless in such regards
And rightfully so
For I have dedicated my entire self
My entire life
To the upholding of such high regards
For a person who I do not yet know
That to me
Is more pure than the new fallen of snow*
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 10:24 PM UTC
My heart is breaking because it relies on the futility of my nature,
I fear,
My nature's rigidness to accept oblivion,
Will cause me to loose something very dear,
How long should I run knowing that I'll be caught?,
In my own tragic tale and the borders of my mind,
What I have become is my biggest failure,
I cannot support myself,
Neither do I wish myself well,
Until embraced by tides of warmth,
That have yet to approach,
As what simmers in the ocean of memories is beyond my control,
And helplessly I continue to cherish that one memory of warmth.
Sep 30, 2024
Sep 30, 2024 at 1:11 PM UTC
Is it really so true that fear can keep us trapped and imprisoned by nothing but mere thoughts?
Invisible bars with such real rigidness in their stance.
Within these walls I wonder, is it normal to watch another person cry and feel like it's the most intimate you can be with a person? And if so, what does that say about what I'm putting up with?
You can open my legs repeatedly, but you'll never know me there; because unlike other humans I live in my heart.
If you know the key to that door isn't your **** even though it fits, but it was your deepest secrets, would you dare to open me still?
Should I consider the ones who answer no to be cowards?
And maybe that is why I have grown to hate you. Because I stand in the bravery of authenticity but still tremble at the thought of being alone.
So maybe then in actuality I hate myself too.
In conclusion, I suppose I hate neither.
I only hate the mirror you are that shows me who the real coward is here, and I'm sick of staring.
Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 9:52 PM UTC