"secedes" poems
My shoelaces flap side to side like one of those car-dealership inflatables arms-
My veiny stompers pump puddles of pure procrastination from perceptive sprinting-
Underneath the tune-buds, I cannot hear my sneakers scraping the scrap rocks of gravel-
To my left- a hooting owl habitats itself in a hushed game of charades-
To my right- a slick tree frog flies freely from a lofty leaf and lands in the lagoon-
Elapsed images of elastic languages fill my mind with everlasting wisdom-
Entertained by the watercolors, my canvas curdles and secedes the state of mind-
Pressing harder- the curtain continues to close as I chase the condescending daylight-
Pressing softer- the tuner in my temple turns into a terrorizing shriek from my tibia-
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
Writhing, the screeching leviathan demands
And I cave to save the aching from tricky time slopes
Pained craving
Wavering but
Hit and
It’s all loosey goosey goodness
Sensing silent magma pulse, whoosh the tummy tingles
Droopy ears gape-face giggle no more nowadays
A stern turn in old age the silly phase of
Too bright, neon common numb tongue rambles
Secedes into introspective
Crowded walks, broken talks strung into threats clustered and
Flung like monkey **** at many-stabbed ego, Brutus?
Strangers will eat you
The professor thinks I’m funny because
I know the answers in class
The other day Dingus
And Whoseewhatsee tried to alley mug and hurt and end
And money!
No, rocked nose ran dude! Fine
Trying not to fear the outdoors, though
The arthropods and phantoms tell me ***** jokes
And not to eat my candy
Books melt into soupy mercurial elixir
I slurp them and belch
Educating myself in a barn ******* knowledge
On loud faces; empty meat
Where you can hear the jingly metal
Thing when you shake it, it’s dead no flower
They don’t always like me
But
I’ve got the jeepers creepers behind my peepers
And a million lightyears to burn
Truth is worth dying
Four **** sow
Izzeny thing these daze
Maybe it was a bust from the start but there’s
Always art
Quieting the plague that revealed
Not so good after all
Tiny thorns and all-consuming
Waves of red-get-out wrenching, gutted like a fish
Overcome, that never went away or found
A place to sit
Memories arthritic grind a grim gray whetting stone
Reduce with juice-cloud, grape teeth cough will never find a home
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
fate befalls coarse dissonance
heartfelt plight, undoing thralls
stalwart cries beckon home
staunch hope redoubtably prevails
pithy, barren, crass, vile
Morose echoes, tinged denial
bemoaning daunting harrow
withered bridges surmise winter's defeat
water flowing effortlessly beneath
ineptitude solemnly secedes
decaying frost bereaves Sun's kiss
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 3:07 PM UTC
I've been coasting quietly with an eye on society.
One eye's looking out for the hazards tryna blind me.
While my third eye is looking in, using intuition to guide me.
Sympathetic responses in an exchange for a shot at your wonder bra
I try to veer my course away trying not to expose those manipulations I saw
*In myself I invest as a capital and so I'm brushing all the ******** off.*
Your 8th pair of shoes? Yes, another great investment.
I can't help but be disgusted as I bring on feelings of resentment.
So I let go, I gain control, and set my gaze ablaze on another page to vent.
Everyone's in the know, but the quantity of info is so little.
I can't help but scoff as what's viewed as importance is really artificial.
Eye can rise above, but at the same time I'm still in the middle.
Disrespectful kids, with blind belligerent parents.
You want change? Just look at how your time's spent.
Calmly, look into the past and focus on where the care went.
The assumed superiority is a widespread, and welcomed disease, I'm sick of it.
Most of the privileged majority are better than everyone else and I'm right in the thick of it.
I've gotta change my ways in this maze, now that I've realized how I was depicting it.
The attitudes on display to all,
While you carry around your expensive worthless items at the mall.
Almost makes me wish your exterior reflected what's inside.
The sneers with pride show that to none you abide.
Sitting on your high-horse, yet ungrateful for the ride.
I'm repulsed by the shit-don't-stink mentality.
In a game of the minds I'd love for some to battle me.
Bring your inner ugly to light and not even find it challenging.
This has snowballed into one big calamity.
Which means it's time to step back and breathe.
If I let it best me then only anger breeds.
So now I close my eyes, and shut out any lies as my mind secedes.
Just work on yourself, Ryan, for only then can the collective truly succeed.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 5:19 PM UTC
All feels right
The pain secedes
The future’s bright
The guilt precedes
The sleepless nights have now passed
Onto soundless slumber
I want you here
For we understand.
I relate, and so can you
From me to you,
Please save me from the blue
And fill my heart with color
Vibrant beating of our souls
Seamless to one’s own
Forever in your arms
Is the place where I belong
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 10:12 PM UTC
My kettle sits on the stove,
My mind blends with the walls painted beige.
It secedes.
The thoughts are bound and timed.
Though released, half remain inside.
Standard lines for a futurist agnostic
The present presents a snowy rustic
But what of the faces and spaces that speak to me.
Have we not all been what we wanted to want to be?
My arms reach into the blue
Solitude,
Magnitude,
Saturated markets in the human condition
Intoxicating predispositions in an ideal so sober.
I awake to a lukewarm kettle, nothing boiled over.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
Clarification thru all things
tangible and real,
size-able and unceasing
I see the dream thru
the senseless belief
mis-matched communication
and halt,
crying then for a logic,
for a decree
for windows to open
(the in of me)
think then and
pause,
dislodge this pause
to a fine dime
of half-stricken guilt
while
I reckon\
the all reckoning
all expansive
all the way human
novelty
of experiment shuddering awake
the night
the fingers wading
and waiting
and so on,
to grow back
thru the rot
thru all the art
of a passion
of supernatural focus
to subjection
supernatural
objection for
concentration
for a patience
to speak slow like
in old contemplation
groove suspends
balance secedes
and the moon rocks
the roots the river
and the beats,
always the beats
the blues,,
the pulse,,,
the music in
my rhythm's remedy
pulse
all expansion
piercing
the salt of it
burning clear
and clean
always stamping the gates
of iron wounds
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:03 AM UTC
to observe the observer
is to love and to serve her
as her bottom lip secedes from the top,
i still my thoughts til they stop
To belong to the observer
is to long observe her
It is to experience her analysis,
brushing her hair in wait for her synthesis
Covered in logic and reason
her critique or thought comes out
and though it can bring painful change in season
hearing it is the only righteous route
To listen to the observer
is to be challenged by her
to take her challenge is to listen with humble ears
to take her challenge is to gain wisdom for years
This is what it means to love and to hold her
to observe my beautiful, sweet observer
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
His season o' sorrows had seceded;
- the joy crept in reluctant an' slow, though,
- because he was aware the cycle'll be repeated.
Yay- t'was one thing that he did, certainly, know:
- that - with the blustery an' bone chilling snow
- will be brought along another season o' sorrow.
For now, though, he'll enjoy the golden suns glow.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 7:23 PM UTC