"scoping" poems
Like a bumblebee
She dreams of nature
Of fields full of flowers
Of life trickling sweetness
She’ll travel the world
With buzzing excitement
With gold dripping wings
And a love hungry soul
She’ll go with the winds
Dance her way over mountains
Scoping lands for enchantment
Moving hearts with her spirit
And like a bumblebee
She finds peace in the journey
In flying passion painted miles
But never forgetting her way home
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 2:11 AM UTC
Spell is broken
Magic words were spoken
Gone is the hoping
Transformation in coping
Witchy eyes mesmerize
Truth spoken in lies
Undercover like spies
Today delusion dies
Now I must be mad
To want what's sad
Experiment with the bad
Sparks talent that I have
Who's the spell caster?
What makes one a master?
Some fail faster
Document moment of disaster
Love me cruelly
Intoxicated truly
Cursed..I long foolishly
Venus energy unruly
None can ever have me
Many want me badly
Love I give madly
Doesn't have to end sadly
Must've been broken
Before spell was spoken
Art wide open
Commence with scoping
Its all an understanding
Of what we are commanding
May crash before landing
Done with delicate planning
I'm a vibrational hub
Radiate unconditional love
Same below as above
Wrap souls with this hug
These words of magic blows all away
Deflect Spells of hate every day
Enter the game if you choose to play
We all live our lives in our own way
So light me up..Take this token
Potent I become when I'm smoking
Dive inside my love is open
This Phoenix shall rise when spell is broken
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC
Hunger.
His eyes watching down his prey.
Stare so deep it reaches her insides.
Scoping through , searching to find the movies in her mind.
She blocks it , placing a wall , the light comes bouncing off the glass window and back to the wide eyes staring. Shook.
“Nice to meet you.”
He caresses her hand with a sunflower kiss.
Leaving her with his musk scent lingering behind with another movie.
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 2:59 PM UTC
I am standing
at the mirror
loving every scarred
unruly thread unraveling
in this breathing tapestry
it wasn’t my fault
what happened to me
my patterns were scored
long before I knifed them in
over and over again
picking people and paths
to validate my false hypotheses
unworthy kept me from
letting you love every one
of these holy spastic molecules
until I loosed grip
on erroneous
self-loathing
and I am so sorry
I really needed you
but I couldn’t let you
be there for me
because I wasn’t
and now,
here I am…
scoping silver under glass
making silly faces for me
blowing kisses at myself
and giving a little wink
over my shoulder
as I walk out
able to embrace
the wild unknowns
that await me
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 1:26 PM UTC
Call me to the mountains once more,
Oh sweet, murmuring gusts,
And remind me who I am.
Sweep up my laughing toes to the tops
Of these proud outcrops
Then give my breath to the dome
When after looking out, I see my city,
But not my home.
Bring forth the rich perfumes
of startling everything-ness from the valleys,
And after I have drunk the proud skirts
of these verdurous hills,
Let your sweet touch guide me up,
and pin my head to my scoping bed.
Then hush, let me be as I espy
My gentle, distant, giant lovers,
Dependably rising from the East,
with supernal gossiping
for my cognizance alone.
Let me imbibe their wisdom
until all my queries and qualms
slip from my eyes,
dissolving into secrets
and thanks beyond measure.
One last request, my swift-flowing friend,
Wipe these wet lessons from my face
And carry their essence to the edge
To Karman,
And meet the angel who waits without air
To carry my cosmic missives there
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 5:54 AM UTC
Once upon a time in an alternate universe not too long ago
I met the cheekiest babe from the other side of the world.
She went by Smurfette, she loved to call me Papa Smurf
and Vanity wasn’t gay, the ******* just loved himself too much.
She always sat by the window, detoxicating herself of verses
cranking out a few lyrics, scoping the city in the trenches.
Of the love we waged never wavering and waving a white flag
“I’m gonna put you to bed” were all our wars went to die.
But I was more than alive, inside the land from down under
called her Daphne the Nymph, the voluptuous Greek Goddess.
Wanted to raise little Koalas together in our Kangaroo farm
in every kiss we traded souls, in every breath we lost our lives.
And we gained them again back when the Jitneys were blue
our sweat-drenched bodies overtaken by some strange voodoo.
Every ship we embarked on was lost in the Atlantic without return
James Bean captained our vessel, holding it together with crazy glue.
In New York City locked lips inside a phone booth, it was euphoria
she was already born a Queen since she hailed from Astoria.
Our Bohemian Rhapsody blended like Cheech & Chong on a ******
her pouty lips, ****** smile, five years later how can I forget her?
Her voice, beautiful sparrow, vocal chords stone carved like no other
and yet normally speaking she sounded like the Crocodile Hunter
Soaked the landscape of her essence, remembrance without a beat
the song she wrote about us, plays in my heart eternally on repeat.
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 12:23 PM UTC
As fridge-rator to beer in the head between the ears adorned with flashy widgets with which to trap the hoes he hopes that he can pull into his poles. His gravity whips wide so hands find and feel up erthing that gots the tail, he wants to rail so hands out he walks and tilts to one side and back holding his glass. Two fingers limp around the rim, dipping his fingertips into the juice like he wants to dip into you, pinkies as he holds your head forcing you to **** like you want his come as much as he wants to come. Then when done zips up, runs out, ***** sayonara", switch rerun mode without emotion. He floatin. He floatin. He gloatin.
Head on the couch back making tired, one eye open scoping everyone's glow as they move, when up he comes sittin in my face, spittin what he thinks I want him to say, I'm like, **** guy control that tongue, you spray like that always I'm afraid I won't take that wild **** as tool is to you as to yo ***** Right ******* ****** spittin harder in the lean up perhaps the lead up to fist flung to react. "Man you too loose, I gotta tell you, I've got just what you do." "Your uh ****** Man watch ya flavor of language, I got just enough ****** left to get hard and stomp you, heel first in boots bought to stomp, pre-emptive to deal with the bullwhip effect where first you droolin to **** me, then retract like a bowstring because my ***** resembles a **** "What you want, ***** You wan **** this **** for real?" (For real?) He floatin. He floatin. He floatin the room, he ghosting.
Lick my lips, cept it's not a tongue. For this purpose it's strobe lights, in light show, and like snow, black and white between sheets of plastic TV screen on get settled into my flow, rip back and forth like prongs on a fork on your ******* blindfolded and scolded right angle, bent like an L-shape repenting for **** by taking the ****** flash cards, held up on headboards, trying to teach you metrics and standards lacking in you to tune you into the lifestream, no empathy and no tact to show, remember this hell well while you sail through life preying, I'm praying and making marks in meat coats. But he floatin. He floatin. He gloatin.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
Disconnected, alienated
uncomprehended, bended
sounds fill
push eardrums, runs,
aural chaos, linguistic pathos
confusion, fusion, apprehension
verbal exhaustion rules
grooves,
governs this immigrant’s life. Five years of coping
scoping, hoping, scraping, trying
to get ahead, get with it, get it on,
fit in. Find that
niche, riche, find that place,
misplaced, fast
pace, foundering, mapless,
GPSless, guideless,
uncomprehended, bended,
alienated, disconnected.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 9:45 AM UTC
A friend has a problem with his computer connection
The dashed thing keeps losing its inflection
To wits end my friends computer did drive him
And last evening the picture was rather grim
At some time later tonight he'll be online
Hopefully his computer connection will be working just fine
It has been a frustrating period for my friend
Having his link to the outside world taking a lend
Observing the sidebar of the computer screen
There is not a sight of him to be seen
A search party is required for scoping my friend
As his connections seems not to be on the mend
This hour the outlook is very very bright
My friends connection is lighting up the green light
His woes have been sorted and he'll be a happy chappy
Not being able to reach him has been rather ******
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 12:33 AM UTC
I know, that I am mostly untrusting,
combusting with thoughts and was lusting for the attention that I know I wasn't gettin'.
But whatever this is it's not set in stone.
I think it's getting close to the time where I find a new home.
I've released all those those attachments that made me feel less than I was,
cuz throughout all the ******** I've risen above.
I'll show you love, without you making the first move.
Aint nothin to do but continue ridin' on my life groove.
You're in or you're out, but that choice is mine 'til I know what you're really about.
Potentially remove you from my doubts and travel new routes.
What the hell is this a competition for, it aint fun.
It's like you're keeping score but don't even know the numbers, with that I'm done.
This isn't the first time and surely won't be the last.
The way you run from your problems...yeah you really are fast.
Try scoping out your true identity and then you'll see what's really meant to be.
I don't know what it is you can't see.
I think it's about time you set yourself free.
Jun 9, 2012
Jun 9, 2012 at 9:36 PM UTC
He dusted off the old rocking chair
& asked me to have a seat
He'd tell me what he was doing there
If I'd simply take a load off my feet
I found this gesture laughable
I would rather stand!
Then listen to another word
Uttered by this despicable Man!
But His confidence eluded Him
He knew I would protest
& yet I saw Him conceal a grin
At the denial of His request!
At this point, I couldn't even move
I could barely breathe
He acknowledged my discomfort, said,
"Very well" & took the seat!
As He sat there callously,
Scoping out the room
He said He just could not believe
The daffodils won't bloom!
This absurdity helped catch my breath
I quickly snapped to interject,
**** the flowers! **** this place!"
& turned to flee with great hast!
This made Him chortle with much glee
He barked, "Silly, girl, you cannot leave! I know you've known this all along, The Cottage is where your Soul belongs!"
I felt so angry I could cry
I hit my knees & pleaded: "WHY?!
I kicked You out so long ago! Don't speak to me as if You know!"
& this is where the story twists:
He dropped His grin & stood up quick
Now, controlled by His brown eyes
Forced to hear His every lie:
"I know that we have been apart, But that's no excuse to neglect your heart, & that is why I'm here again, to protect you from yourself, My friend..."
& that's the moment I lost my mind
To hear Him call me "friend"
As if His love, I could deny!
(So, instead, I was forced to pretend)
But He already knew my tricks
We played this game before
All this time Our stubbornness
Is the very quality We adored!
So, while He tried to lecture me
I quickly stoked a match
I had laced The Cottage previously
& dropped it on a kerosine-soaked mat!
& as I laughed maniacally
at the seconds we had left
To my surprise He grinned idly
As We slowly burned to death...
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
you wanna live life but it's not in your hands
the school systems ruthless it's making demands
you're scoping success but no victory dance
without a college degree
* I'll dibble in this and I'll dabble in that*
but with no major you'll have to go back
you're on the wrong train because it's not on a track
Go! and get that degree!
education- the system, not education for free
for 30 long years you'll be paying the fee
knowledge is debt; that's what it looks like to me
** America, **** your degree! **
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 12:00 PM UTC
His chin dipped low, eyes lifted, hovering
Scoping me up and down
Perhaps sizing me
Measuring, maybe
I couldn't decide even if I wanted to
But that's the problem
In that moment when our eyes met
I couldn't think
I believed in matrimony,
I believed in the 3 fold cord
I could not imagine betrayal
Understanding was confusing at best
Like layer upon layer of searching thoughts
Thick with textures, lost in a maze of unending questions
Clouding my mind but not my memory
I remember truths while I cannot forget the lie
I never understood what was taking place
Love, lust, punishment, anger....... And for what?
For my honest heart? For obedience and submission?
For loving my husband?
I indulge now in scripture
I relish in my burning desire
A desire to expose your devilish deception
To expose you
Your evil lust
like the ****** of Baal
Treating someone like me as a temple harlot
disgusting as the Roman bathing pools
You are ungodly..
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
Where blue meets black
minds meet to share mystery
a birds wing, the songs of astronauts
the silence of vast spaces stretching out
tiny space dust particles forever travelling
the scientists eye at the end of a telescope, scoping
aliens who made the choice to avoid war hungry Mankind.
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 10:15 AM UTC
time moves forward
winding through galaxies
coursing through milkyways
pulsing through universes
hanging on heartbeats
yesterday, today and tomorrow
happening concurrently
burned onto disks stacked on top of each other
lifetimes skipping tier to tier
peeking through veils of reality
scoping inward to Brownian motion
zooming outward to life’s whole
energy flowing freely through meridians
navigating congestion and voids
finding balance in life’s peaks and valleys
like electrocardiograms
my lifereadings on paper
lately I’ve been flatlining
routines can be boring
drudgery stagnates
maybe I’m just physically tired
maybe I’m tired of life
caught behind a rock in a river
awaiting a cataract to break me free
and restore the song of life’s flow
maybe I’m an insignificant speck of dust
a blip off life’s radar
or maybe the smallest piece of jigsaw
is an equal part of the whole
Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 10:41 AM UTC
Sometimes -
she is so very
'(fucking) tea and scones'
But
...
by the way she sips
from her china cup
with pinkie extended,
each time
miming
the perfect embouchure
I know that she tends it -
the fire
she could send a man over the edge
but not the
- devil inside me
~~~~~ twisted energy ~~~~
ancient eyes scoping the curve in her form -
her carotid smile
pulses - synced - with my carotid length
she is my dawn -
I
may just prove to be her
twilight
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 7:13 PM UTC
The day you went to the pound
All her fellow campers jumped up and tried catching your eye
She sat in the corner daring not to make a sound
Stoping at her door she let out a small cry
Sitting next to the older girl, you see it in her eyes
The pain of her past, hoping to be rid of it for good
The life she had was full of pain and lies
All her life she was misunderstood
Just for being a pitbull no one dared to touch
But now there you sit, showing her you care
At first she gets scared, her teeth may have clutched
Don't be afraid just because you hear you need to beware
She smells the grass outside your home
Her first look around, already scoping the couch for her new favourite bed
You show her the yard, the boundaries she may rome
She may be a little older but she has lots of life ahead
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Tell me how many times you gonna walk by?
Well just as many times as I won't say hi
Both of us just hoping
From a distance I try to adjust my focus
Through all the commotion
I'm still scoping
I would stare you down
Until you come around
Then I look away
Then you go stray
Now I can't wait ... to see your face
Just my luck
You pop up
I wasn't ready
I'm carrying something that's heavy
I look like I'm struggling
And you are looking ****
I would assure you that I'm strong
Only If you let me
I promise to you Katrina that I'm not weaker than the levees
I grab life by the horns
I'm built to last
And I run deep like a Chevy
... You wanna ride?
You can run
And you can hide
But here I come
Don't be surprised
What old head said
I utilized
Straight to the point
I never slur
I'm not sly
Why?
I thought you were?
I couldn't tell
I won't tell
Lets just bail
And go mingle
Even though you're not single
Oh
No?
Say no more
But wait!
What you was looking for?
Why were we locking eyes?
Flirtatious statements
Smiles on faces
Anticipated conversations that were never created due to hesitation
... You faking
But I'm patient
I'll know when he not around
But I'm not waiting
Oh he left you?
I woulda left too
Now that I know
That yooooouuuuuu's ah h.......... !
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 11:59 PM UTC
I wonder,
were we...
Roman lovers?
with laurel wreathes
and toga covers?
Or maybe
we were
cowboy robbers?
Maybe we were
outlawed 'shiners.
I just know that
I know you
from somewhere.
This isn't
the first go-round
for you
and me.
We were something
before
in some kind of
capacity
Maybe we we're royalty.
Maybe you were
betrothed to me;
maybe we fought,
and maybe you ruled,
and maybe my father
gave me over
to you.
I'll bet you were older, still.
I bet
I still argued with you.
I bet
I still kissed you
like I had
always loved you.
Maybe you
were married
Maybe I
was, too.
Maybe
we were strangers,
or secrets from others,
Maybe I married you.
Maybe we had sons.
Each
just as handsome
and strong as
the next one.
Maybe I worked
for you,
with you,
or against you.
Maybe I cracked your shell,
Maybe you made me fall,
maybe we were
the other's glue.
and I bet
we still looked
Just like we do now.
I bet your eyes
were that syrupy
blue suede goo
And I bet
I still wanted you.
Needed you.
Baited you.
Waited and stayed with you.
I bet I still strung
your world
on a string.
And I bet in
whatever
lifetime it was,
we had the very best of
everything.
I bet we were a team.
I bet we still
undid
the other at the seams.
I bet you
woulda died for me,
Robin Hood.
I bet you were a knight
with cool armor
and a sword.
Or maybe
I took care of you,
Maybe we met
in a tent,
you in camo
stained with blood,
a white skirt
to my knees.
Maybe
I saved you.
Maybe you
saved me.
Maybe you're
my Daddy Warbucks,
I always did find him
****
Maybe
we were patriots
and met
in a tavern.
maybe on the
Titanic
and you spoke
German
Maybe
we were neighbors.
Maybe you
were my professor,
Dr. Indiana Jones.
Just as ****
in a classroom
as you'd be
scoping out a tomb.
There's something you emit
that draws me back
to a moment
that's blurry and distant
but I know that
I miss it.
If a thousand years ago
you ran
your fingers
through my hair.
or two hundred and twenty
since the last time
our flame flared,
we're burning hot as
and been in business
just the same as
Hell's furnance.
Unpredictable
as Vesuvius
I think by now
my old soul
can smell yours
a mile
away.
I think your eyes
spill your secrets
like broken
flood gates.
I think I've seen
every micro
expression cross your face
at one point in
all of my
foggy visions,
and I breathe in
the vapors
of what we
can't remember
and I'm soggy
in your arms.
Who knows
how many of my lifetimes
you've already charmed.
And still I want you.
And need you.
And bait you.
Wait and stay
with you.
Behind closed doors
we could fill a room
with the ghosts from our histories.
I can remember that
the moment
you kiss me.
This alchemy
has existed
for centuries.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 7:51 AM UTC
the flowery, transparent lace scoping up from
behind me and ending at my waist. when he
pushes his hand and cups the skin, i feel
emptier than i was after the dinner i had,
mounds of rice and bean scoops as your
forehead pressed against the mesa and
you said you loved her. at midnight,
the blue bathroom tile bruises my forehead
and i kiss it, lips against mold and mildew.
the next morning, you say i am not *****
and i mumble yes, pinching milk-soaked
cornflakes from my cereal bowl between
my fingertips and placing them on my tongue.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 1:38 PM UTC
there's an election everyday
and you choose
you choose
between contrary thoughts
and you win or lose
be it economy or health care
you can be on welfare
living offa food stamps
exploiting the help there's
like 12 million ways to live my man
choose one
that boy is suicidal dreaming of a shotgun
that girl is suicidal dreaming of a casket
I'm done counting sheep
my dreams is passed that
woke up in Brooklyn
still looking for Wonderland
skipping down the roads of Oz
chasing after Peter Pan
ingesting that fairy dust
climbing up the rabbit hole
nostalgia my drug of choice
I OD on the days of old
now slow it down for the days of new
I'm taking baby steps
scoping out a change of view
I'm a philanthropist
all I want is change for you
so keep the money for yourself
it's too much ado
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
by chance
i met your eyes
in the hall today.
normally i would of
been scoping you out.
my eyes roaming the halls
and the classroom, for your face.
however since i told you,
i've been avoiding you.
and by chance
i met your eyes
in the hall today.
my heart raced,
and i cursed myself.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
My sexlife is only existing by the thought thereof; it is a film cancelled in pre-production. It is an abandoned studio wherein the lone director stands centrally - scoping the remains of an epic never made, eavesdropping the voices of people that could have been involved and the props and the grandiose sets left in shielding shades.
Maybe someday the script can be rewritten, the thirteen hundred volt lamps will light up the stage where an actress vents her soul and it burns onto celluloid solely destructible by time. The company has decided to let the studio be, maintain it, so that the film can be revived and the passion rekindled, yet for now the studio will be left unattended.
I guess I will visit occasionally.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC