"sensitized" poems
Photography,
Photo journalistic,
Everyday, realistic.
Commercial, architecture, landscape, artistic,
Industrial, fashion, ethnographic, pornographic.
Big Brother, fallace, stealer of souls, vouyer.
News seller, instant gratifier, man pleaser, woman abuser.
Barthes, Sontag, Cindy Sherman,
Virginia Woolf, Warhol. Weegie, Francesca Woodman,
Leibovitz, Adams, Arbus, Tina Modotti,
Nan, Evans, Hoffer and even the Paparazzi.
Cheap ***** digital manipulator, image poser,
Center fold, coupons, Jackie O and Marilyn Monroe.
Where did they go:
Lifeless paper product, painter's picture mess,
C-type, digital archival,
Sepia, black and white, hard drive retrival.
Image addict,
Image taker,
Image maker,
image seller,
image buyer.
Newspaper, magazine, graphics and ads,
TV, dreams, even the trash.
Billboards, subways, phones and buses:
Utopia:
Surreal, crop, stretched and air brushes.
Modern ideal.
Surface manipulator.
Brain conditioner.
Consent manufacturer.
Oh Photography,
I got you in my eye.
A few thousand dollars,
A BFA, A critical scholar.
Or maybe a nerd,
Just boys with toys.
Telephoto genitals, with motor drive action.
Studio lights, umbrella traction.
Oh Photography,
You proprietor of obscene.
Detailed, de-sensitized.
Court ordered, jury analyzed.
Click, image, copy, edit, paste, print or post.
Myfacespace, twitter, flicker,
An internet media overdose.
Pry, spy, your friend's friend's acquaintances.
Parties, picnics, reunions and shows.
Visits, vacation, style, shoes and clothes.
Pics, photos, images, jpegs and giffs.
Snap shot, portrait, panoramic, Kodak kiss.
Exacerbate:
Divorce, break-ups, jealousy, envy, love and fears.
Devour and captivate society for years.
Slaves to Western and Capitalist desires,
Destruction of Earth with psychological, monetary empires.
Jan 11, 2010
Jan 11, 2010 at 7:05 AM UTC
When I enter,
the black holes of myself,
they are located,
transcribed upon the
blackboards of our
unified bodies,
the magnification of energy
transversed,
principles demonstrated
by the unconcluding
conclusion of the expansion of
creation,
the rebirthing of one universe
never ending
When I enter a woman,
the discovery sought,
the definitional needed,
the proofs equational,
the factors constant,
not the variable
truths,
the demonstrations positive,
the constants of the universe,
combinational, all within,
a single point glistening
to gentle comfort this
knowledge of my wasting,
the foresight of my limitations
from the day of birth
my matter,
matters,
my energy
neither destroyed or created,
illimitable,
my decline inevitable
and yet!
cannot alter my atomic structure.
my future guaranteed,
my inner light,
traveling so fast,
it has yet
to arrive
When I enter a woman,
the laws of physics
become special theories
of relativity,
we are motion in time,
force and energy
nucleotides rawest refined,
elemental and particle nuclear,
packets of light
exclaimed
When I enter a woman,
organic, chemistry,
interdisciplinary
my body and its life force
shaped as
electric current transceivers
crossing galaxies,
there can be no deceivers,
there but and only
the birthing of heat,
a byproduct of
interjection, conjunction
creation of creativity
<>
she is my proof
long after the
log normal of my nerves,
now parceled to the
invisible of an oscillating
log natural,
fertilizes the sea grasses
that so intoxicate,
flying, carried,
by the invisiblity of the winds,
all-where I have chosen
as my shifting shape,
when this container
leaks and crack'd,
in sentry reentry orbit,
to
the nearest garbage strewn
construction-dead
lot
When I enter a woman,
physics far beyond
the commonplace,
physical transition
to knowledge
of life ever after
death and fear are
time sensitized
passing notions,
crushed by the
consolation of physics,
the eternality
of a time
once begun,
cannot end,
and therefore
this,
my one theory of everything,
the God
I worship,
of course,
he is invisible!
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 8:40 AM UTC
*Train the girl child
That she may know her ways in time
And find her path in time
That she may give to the society
For every girl child has a right
And that right must be sensitized early enough*
Educate the girl child
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC
The tea cup clouds were reason enough.
Reeling, the clock hands spun on an axis wobble
noon flirted with night
and I broke into a run
as the sky opened its maw
and screamed.
Even the suits scramble for burrows.
Retrospection always has a punchline.
Hide away, slide away
Stop looking at my ******* please.
Now watch wide-eyed behind
public glass, with a
sitcom gang of affable protagonists
who are now late for their respective chapters
Staring at their phones, willing the weather
forecast to telepathically change.
The light strobes, the bricks quiver sympathetically
and I riddle a fourteen year old pantheon
as they sway, as they jaunt
ankle deep in charged water
daring each other and daring the sky
daring the noise with headphones still around necks
like defiant plastic boas
Clothes plastered, mouths open, rain-drunk
feeling **** revealing secret intimate shapes,
feeling sheepishly exposed next
to crushes who will kiss them at the next movie.
I am aware of each nerve as I drip and shiver
I'm terrified of storms, my reasons are mine
but even this fear
can cat-stroke my skin
hyper-sensitized, electric
and make me feel
**** too.
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 3:58 PM UTC
All our senses concatenate, building on each other
<>
this interplay is truly interplanetary,
for each of us a unique solar system,
our brains,
intricacy literally personified,
and our five senses, working
in
concatenation
our long range sensors, busy bees compiling inputs
by the nanosecond second, distilling, integrating.
blending and then reconstructing…into a whole!
*a gentle breeze ruffles the hair,
the tree swing rises and flows
of its own accord, no passported
passenger required, and a neighbor’s
American Flag, moves majestically &
impressively, whipping, dancing, yes, prancing
to a tune only it can hear,
the syncopated air currents providing
a rhythmic awesome inspiring beat…*
and the brain takes this all in, a momentary
second of a vista that is constantly flexing,
yet remains unchanged, a muscular view
of a real world, living but yet immutable,
and I utter thanks to my motor functions,
that bless me with the eyes to perceive,
the nostrils to smell sea salt flavored air,
the hearing ears that the know the imperceptible
orchestrations of silences by their absence
and their intrusion, and I touch my fingertips
to my tongue, wetted, and hyper sensitized
to that gentle breeze that decorates the
landscapes external,
*and the combinatory
addition of the all of it, into a single momentary
poem of recall, what I “knew” yesterday, & will
greet again this coming day, as an old unfamiliar
friend, who grasps me entire, and proclaims:
this is living…and the greatest satisfaction that
a speck of mortal can achieve, retain and
through impoverished words…share*
4:14am
Mon Jul 22
2 0 2 4
Jul 22, 2024
Jul 22, 2024 at 4:25 AM UTC
to the thought of you
that motif of you
was like a latent infection
like hives to my face
making me red but breathless
made me realize
got me sensitized
when a new face,
recalled called before
these eyes that came into focus
instead of my eyes clear to you
that was once too far before
repetitive inhibited i’ve become
playing mute like an idiot
like a puppet on the a string
couple with a hand up the rear
faking every smile with a cheer
this isn’t a hate a poem
not lyrics to tic away
the times of regret to rhyme
no, not at all
not seemingly at all
not even partial, somewhat
i needed to make peace
with myself, and my mother
a tangible door that i left
through with the window
wide open, tired, and confused
through a flow that obstructed
with only beams from high school
no foundation to be constructed
I upset her and it was not you
it was the person that gave
the very thought of me to even
conceive to help you, be there for you
i repressed that, i suppressed that
but finally I’m relieved of you
now closer to my parents
that you’ll ever be to yours
it’s the truth, not an insult
i spent all these years
psychoanalyzing a psyche
undirected, ironically
you gave me direction
away, no contention
just signs, and many exits
but i continued to drive
passing opportunities
friends and happy moments
i have internalize this too long
reading into nothing, yes it could have been
but I focused on changing you,
because of you, what you have seen
i’m done, fully relinquished
you probably won’t know, or ever care
or even read this, never took interest
anyways on this craft of mine
only on witchcraft because you never
cared too much on your own faith
again the truth
as I observed, you’ll only come around
from getting broken and surely that was it
but in the end, there was only so much
we can mend the people around us
they have to realize, and yes you made me realize
if the world wasn’t the way it is
the only women i’d call my best friend
wouldn’t have to contend with the contents
of this poetic discourse, because frankly
all this could have been averted
but it was because I’m too good of a person
too nice of a guy, never wanted to play the game
now i’ve mastered it, just been holding on this space
but that was it, it was just space
you dragged the offensive of me
a defensive I have known all along
and kept pensive
it’s just we try to keep
what we can not have
Jul 17, 2010
Jul 17, 2010 at 4:12 PM UTC
I alight upon the ivory garden
tended with accents of wine
and elegant gates of grey
I call your name: Poetry.
Hello, poetry.
then I hear it, the warmest reply
like the scent of lilacs and ocean salt
*** my monitor is supercharged with it
A myriad cry
From the baby-bird mouths of the heated young
From the sensitized woe-lines of the veterans of love
For a bolt of lightning and carnal tangle
Rendering memories of the trembling inside you
I click through the poignant, the broken, the raw
syllables weave pixels into cotton sheets
They twist under the keys as I type:
"Hello, poetry. What simple beautiful animals we are."
Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 6:27 PM UTC
The valet I pleasure today
Oblivious to the frigid weather,
His warm fingertips
Ran through my bare back,
My body rippled with pleasure
Holding his gaze
I felt his manhood
Against my sensitized skin
His touch was sensuous
His voice was seductive,
Demanding
Like the rest of him
Lifting up my hips wider
To make way for him
He let out a moan
As he buried himself deep,
His length filling me
Plunging,
Thrusting in me,
Deeper, harder and deeper
Stretching me,
More delicious than I fantasized
Lost in the colorful sounds
Of smell of pure bonk,
Bang and more bonk
He moves in long,
Sure strokes.
Deep.
Controlled
He conjures in acidic marsh
I groan as my body vibrates
When he sleeks and slides..
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
While waiting
For a taxi
By a roadside
A young and
An energetic lad
Came and
Without courtesy
Pushed me aside
To take a ride
Hopping on
A minibus taxi,
Only for one
Occupant
A place had.
Before ebbs out
My vexation
Another taxi
Drew my attention.
I hopped in
Condemning a grave sin
The lad's action--
"Where is
his sense
of decorum,
Preached on
Religious and
Cultural forum?"
Fast, the second taxi
Almost caught up
With the first,
Which got out of sight
To be stopped
By a traffic light.
Out of a sudden
I heard a deafening blast
That accompanied
Orange tongues of light
While the first taxi
Soared up like a kite.
With no need
To ask why
Such a thing
Happen out of
A clear blue sky
Occupants and I
Out of our taxi
Managed to fly,
For we were
TV sensitized
To keep an open eye
Of terrorist that vowed
To operate on the sly.
Though sad
That cursed lad
Snatched death
From my hand!
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 1:46 AM UTC
Red drops.
Tiny. Brutal. Morbid.
Dripping
Slowly
Steadily.
My nails claw on your chest.
Long gashes
Red drops.
Trickling
In the midst of this sadistic frenzy
I smile.
At your painful moans
At your begging pleas
At your dying whispers.
Every emotion sensitized
And every sound heightened
Till it was saved in my membrane
In my mind forever.
'Cuz no pain of yours
was bigger than mine.
The drops, once had been gushing from my body
the pleading moans,
had once been my beg for refuge.
And your manic laugh,
as an answer to my begs, is still etched on my mind.
Your sadistic hands clawing at my body
drawing blood
drawing pain
drawing sanity
still there in my mind.
Thriving,
on this pain that I bring you.
No second chances,
since I didn't even get my first.
No mercy, since I died too.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 5:46 AM UTC
Why do we cry when we lose?
Why do we laugh at misfortune?
What makes success seem so successful?
Can people hear our thoughts as we interpret theirs,
in judgmental, hyper sensitized vibrations?
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
this is how the poetry bows out
the tying of the tongue,
fingertips are shaved, nubbed,
heart seized, it rhyming ceased,
veins are dammed, arteries blocked,
the emotional fled, to a wild wind wed,
this is how the poetry bows down ‘n out
the remainders, sticky stuck, viscous,
through small pore filters they leak,
with the soap and the sins, all drained,
the shower uses holy water to no avail,
this is how the poetry bows down ‘n out
the brain cognitions loss, realizing a release
ending, time sensitized, the mantelpiece badly
cracked, each of the body’s words in reliquaries hidden,
the other worldly acquaintances greet him joyously,
commence a choir chant, a motet centuries old,
this, this! is how the poetry bows out
Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 10:26 AM UTC
misunderstood
reinterpreted
stereo-typed
re-processed
de-sensitized
de-humanized
left to waste on the shelves
of big-box stores for eternity
a skeleton looks
back in the mirror
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 2:24 AM UTC
It's getting to be that time again,
In the later hours of my day
When the night creeps so quietly across the sky as if trying to surprise the sunrise somewhere across the world
So it's dark in my mind
When the demons creep on the edge of their seats to try and better view of the contents of my heart to more properly pick it apart,
Why is it that when it gets to be twilight my mind is sensitized to the screams of all that which I can't see,
It's a balancing act to maintain my sanity, tomorrow's on it's way
If my fallacy stays in tact, I'll live to see another day
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 4:15 AM UTC
If I had to explain it I'd say my world of words prefers to rhyme.
It likes to speed up, until you catch up,
and then take up your time.
It likes to play games and roll around in the grass like a child;
use its imagination to keep things fresh, tasty, and wild.
My words like to cuss and be rude,
spend days lying on the couch
drunk, shameless, and ****
They dispise being alphabetized and disrespect being ordered around;
like a high school kid being sensitized,
and in so doing being ostracized,
being pushed out forcefully by the system.
My words have rules and they love to resist them.
Often turning into words of insistence and criticism,
my words should be locked up,
but they're usually dressed up
in something they're not,
put in a strait jacket and forgotten in a prison because they've been caught.
People think I need to watch what I say but I'd rather not.
I want my words to stay in your head for days till they're the only thoughts
you've got.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
See the sky it so highly appreciated. See the world it is so highly criticized. See the bird it is so highly glorified. See the rain it so highly envisaged with love.
See the land it is so highly sensitized. See the oligarchy it is so highly honored. See the hollow it is so highly rectified you see. See you, you are cherished and entitled with glory. See me, you shall find the disgrace and the coward traits in me. And see again the crazy going jolly fellow who stood there, see again the jumps he took for you, see a good one and take the rend of repent of the renounced rhetorical risky rumor. See again what THEY did and see again what you abide by...
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 8:54 AM UTC
How To Communicate Climate Change
Alliteration just won’t do it.
Numbers about record years –
This one worse than last,
The last more awful than before:
More godawful than before.
“Table water, rivers shrinking…”
We can’t take it in.
Had they words like:
‘Foods stop growing, seeds stop sowing,
Banks have nothing; people starve” -
You know, basic stuff,
We just
Might ‘get it’.
Hard to feel for, God knows where -
Fires in LA, Oregon,
Igniting all at once;
And they’re not war zones!
Choppers hurling water
Onto states the size of galaxies.
Helpless, you’re de-sensitized.
(your only arms against disaster).
Have the ‘big guys’ seen the chain?
Folk on the move, the extra heat, the lessening rain?
Its flip side, folk closed in, the Arctic drain,
Shops closed down or vandalized?
Life’s fundamentals random-ized?
How get them? Fundamentals.
Goat, pig, cow, tree, flower, how…
Urgent treatment, urgent action;
Urgent sense of the connection.
It’s a matter of disclosure and, of course,
Compassion.
How To Communicate Climate Change 6.14.2016
Our Times, Our Culture II;
Arlene Corwin
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 5:07 AM UTC
for all the lost, everlasting lovers
~for mara~
*why this morning does the emoting
cast me backwards to all my lost lovers,
imagined and real, yet lasting in crevices hidden,
that beckon, asking to be reclaimed,
recalling when our names combined, many meetings
of lips, kisses so old, decades, yet so well realized
that to see, taste them, is blink, easily accomplished
day beginning, with deep penetrating glances rearward,
unclear how this clarifies the muddled visions of what
the future dreams may contain, ah, love and pain,
love and pain, a tango tangled tandem, indeed,
one hopes the past is prologue, pro for lips sensitized logged,
those kisses past, kisses yet dreamt, those works-in-process
stir the body to rise from the couch, to stretch my arms
up/skyward, grab jeans, go the Persian immigrant on the corner,
for a bun and a black coffee, who wishes me a good new year,
stunned silent when embrace him with hands-full, for his wish for me
enables a gratitude overcoming that only strangers can give;
those lost lovers yet lasting, thank them too, wish them happy year,
winter warmth, comfort them in my crevices-kept, forever retained
Love you, miss you, never gone, never forgotten, ever first,*
everlasting...
1/3/20
7:11am
Jan 3, 2020
Jan 3, 2020 at 7:16 AM UTC
My innocence bludgeoned
A witness to the harsh realities
I seem to entertain
Always to remain
Chained to my experiences
To the delusional that is dealt
Tainted wisdom wreaked its havoc
The wrath of my youth
Was not going to become my truth
This emotionless and faceless society
Had captured and rendered my life ,
An inconsequence of birth
No apparent worth
De-sensitized to the debauchery
A place already booked
In the mortuary
I've grown to discover my own design
I'll not whimper and perish
In the corner, out of the way
I will endeavour to unfold
Tear back the layers
To a brighter day
Forge a friendship
With fortitude
Enjoy my freedom
As my innocence now
Lives in solitude
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC