"symbiotically" poems
Being the sun in your misery is dimming me
It’s parasitic
I used to see us symbiotically, I used to think we balanced each others sadness to reach mutual happiness
I was incorrect
Being the blood to your vampiric nature is draining me
It’s bloodsucking
I used to see us as co-unit, I used to think we were an equal part to each others madness and in turn we could reach sanity
I was mistaken
Being the floating device to your endless ocean is sinking me
It’s so heavy
I used to see us a lifeboat, I used to think we were carrying each other through the sea to reach the shore
You’re drowning me
Nov 23, 2023
Nov 23, 2023 at 9:47 PM UTC
reality is
that plants and man
go hand in hand
that plants mans
right hand man
that mans hand
is strengthened through
plants.
plants blood
feeds man.
mans bones
feed plants.
no plants no man.
the relationship is
symbiotic.
reality is
freedom is a birthright
of all born.
freedom to do as
one yearns, pulled toward.
concrete somehow tricks
our feet into believing we are free.
though we do not hear
the message of the beat
the tune of the heat
emanating from the earth.
we miss steps, tricked by concrete.
our egos need a check.
reality is
all are symbiotic relationships.
no you no me.
I only see me because
I can see me next to you.
same with plants.
life is not linear
or clean, the dirt you sweep up
is meant for you to breath.
vibrissae deal in exclusive ways,
only allowing nutrients
and B12 in.
mysophobia is a dis-ease of the mind.
reality is
we are cut off from our home.
from our air
from our dirt
and our plants.
they too miss us.
the wisdom of life is long
the proof to **** linearity.
the trees call us to honor our bond
to sound the alarm
calmly, in the dream state
so all touch the vibration.
they call to us always.
their dreams need our ears
our hands release the inspiration
of us, together, symbiotically
creating.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 6:02 PM UTC
Let us lay in endless greens, and symbiotically allow the day
A simple spinning about the omphalos of heart’s creation
I want to feel the rapturous entanglement of our atoms
Bursting in fruition as melismatic chiming sighs
And in this becoming, vernal musings with parameters repealed,
We glimpse an eternal oculus by sapid lips shared
In this essence chased through time and captured by the instance
Your quantum passion yearns toward the receptacle of prophecy
I, the oracle form a forecast in rhythm’s *****
To find that the plexus of forever pulsates beneath your skin and mine
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:17 AM UTC
and yet
I need you
a leaf a flower the wind
bring me back to you
you appear
you rise in my mind
suddenly
inevitably
unavoidably
and yet
the sun has risen and set
the flowers have faded and blossomed
without our voices
could recognize themselves
without our eyes
could fascinate themselves
symbiotically
united in another place
and yet
you were there
you are there
you'll be there
our lines confused and indivisible
oblivion
hopeless fight against myself
it is a perpetual magic
transposition of reality
and yet
I wait
I wait for you
in our secret garden
where only you can go in
just you have the key
where
silently
I love you
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 6:48 AM UTC
Just beyond the lapping water I lay
upon the sand
a book in hand
-of words much like my own.
Though style, thoughts, and construction unique
the form (poetry) is all so familiar and warm
like home.
How much ive grown
-from the days I’d only consume literature of tales I could dream of.
Now my taste has grown much more keen,
an eye for insight so far unseen.
Answers of which I doubt Ill find,
though nonetheless I value
like friends of mine.
And in this moment near days end
the wind is blowing
my hair on end
A shift I notice:
The way my skin gleams in the low hung sun
The way my shadow perfectly eclipses the soft sand
The way I feel so very content in the moment.
A shift I notice:
How the day has gone well
How I feel so so swell
How I smile for no reason at all.
And just for now I savor,
I see,
The world (and me) are rolling, crashing, upon the shore,
Symbiotically.
things are looking up
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 10:01 PM UTC
you are the generative one
the seed of infinite aspiration
palaces are built in your honor
patterns of movement and measure
can never upstage your immobile empire
your nobility is inherited
its inherent in the smallest flower
its a form of dynamic retribution
for simply becoming conscious
is never really all that easy
so breathe and surround yourself
with memories of meteoric impermanance
the tragedy of seeking in your reflection
a relief from all this suffering
is symbiotically all-perceiving
that life is neither necrotic nor entropic
as every cell is erotically pulsing
and longing for its opposite
until it fully gives itself to love
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 4:21 PM UTC
What are we
Where do we stand
Is there a we?
Or is it just you, is it just me
Living symbiotically.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
It was raining and it was morning.
They sat in the car underneath a tree, upon a hill, overlooking the vast cemetery below. Clichès still have the potential to be beautiful, they know. Intellectual awareness allows for understood symbolism, the death of that which dies at a cemetery, the emotional downpour demarcated by rain, the interstitial distance of looking forward and down.
Silence and language working symbiotically as a stratagem to both hide and reveal vulnerability. The clichè of their location works with the conversation.
He is sad. She knows.
She knows the emotional location he lives within, she purposefully disregarded his eyes, those eyes that have always stared at her from the mirror, her eyes. The eyes of those with hollow love for themselves. The selfishness of selflessness, the facticity of unfortunate neurological tendencies, the self-imposed limitations.
They speak. He speaks.
She hears him speak, she who is devoid of empathy, she reaches empathy through his words, she hears the thesis of her own thoughts, she cries. She cries because he narrates her perception of herself, through narrating his perception of himself, and she knows the meaning of it.
He cries because it is his.
He looks away.
He says I don't want you to know the things about me. The things that are disgusting.
She loves those things. It's not enough. She knows.
She talks to herself, she talks to him.
She takes his hand, they cling to the ephemeral union.
It stops raining.
They walk into the chapel, the ashes of those who lived resting upon glass bookshelves, behind glass cases. They sit upon a couch in silence. They collapse, against each other.
Two women observe the marble of the mausoleum.
They arise. The women are startled. The women didn't see them sitting; they were three feet away.
He takes her home. They fade into wordlessness during the drive. They look at each other with desperation at a stop sign.
She says goodbye. She walks away.
They walk away.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
You've grown on me very symbiotically.
You've entered my blood stream.
You've raised my heart rate.
You've shown me a crystal lattice of beauty in your eye sockets.
You've convinced me I'm so much more than the average emotional man.
You've shoved the silver spoon into the jugular vein of the patriarchy.
You've never seen your potential in any mirrored distortion.
You've heard my idea of the conceptual us while I was vulnerable and sitting in your car.
You've become my sentimental 3am worries.
You've taken on all my meanings of wonder.
You've absorbed your fair share of sunlight and in your kindness have shared it with me.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 1:09 AM UTC
A never ending battle
Between two foes
Both undefeatable
Both bigger than any other
Both capable of immense damage
Over the mind I call my own
Two foes
Fighting for the right
To destroy me
An endless tug-of-war game
The prize being the end of me
One takes the title of anxiety
But is known in many different forms
Vowing to cut me off from the world
By filling me with fear and worry
Hoping only to drive me to insanity
The other titled depression
Priding itself on killing my hopes
Vowing to cut me off from myself
By making me feel worthless
Hoping to drive me to self-hate
Crying, begging with both
To just make some compromise
A deal with two devils
In hopes of lessening their pain
Neither will have mercy
Neither will make a truce
Neither will defeat each other
Nor will they be defeated by any other
Little do they know
By clawing, scratching
At each other to get in my head
They destroy me in the process
Symbiotically they unnerve me
Together they annihilate me
They simply don’t realize
How well they work together
How well they bring me to an end
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 10:17 AM UTC
who doth like 2 gab a boot
i yam no goth thick ****** villain frum a no vile root
boot kin zee writer iz 4 re:al - here my hand there my lil shoot.
ma gray matter nada mess
of 50 shades of gray more o less
2 impress
than sentiments for female passion i metaphorically express.
this me stir wordsmith viz Bartleby the scrivener
wordsmith doth sit alone
playing knick knack paddy whack
please give this dorky, goofy,
loopy, moody, nerdy, quirky
n wordy proto simian artfully dodging
the erstwhile shadowy bogeyman
more'n a herring or sun bleached wish bone
communication skills daily he doth hone
awaiting 2 convey an auditory
familiar voice message on the telly phone.
i readily admit not 2 be a dusty huffing marathon man
using me phallus as a leg like runner
hoping said golem like creature will
(upon my stern request) stay
nor does this generic guy participate
in any competitive reindeer games nor sports
type son of a gunner
who knows life doth newt always go this way
which wood prompt to snag the eye
of one tiger esse to roar with a yay.
this self anointed beastie boy bard of schwenksville, penna lives
just a rolling stones away
from u2 and you know moody blue who
felt avaricious, chivalrous, efficacious,
impetuous, spontaneous view
especially with...a gal 4
ma doo *** motley crue
2 be earnest, frank and true
n would be ambitious 2 ply
my cognitive, furtive, intuitive
sans this salient knight thee ma sought
after queen kin ponder n rue
computer technical challenges
that might bring out bovine prompting a moo
maybe absorbing symbiotically genius abilities
from one imaginary asian figure named hu
or his identical twin brother mister ma goo.
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 4:11 PM UTC
Pandemic
The word itself describes its art,
Lots of deaths, people leave with a scar,
Maybe you think its effect is temporary ,
But don’t you worry, these pity days will haunt you
Till you are buried.
The life started so beautifully, cro-magnans and environment
Living symbiotically,
What happened after that, you all know, history of the earth changed,
When the man learnt to fight and take revenge.
You really think its all a particular regime’s fault,
Well don’t worry! I guarantee you.
Mother nature was planning this since long halt,
And why not, after what damage has been done,
Maybe she just wants to remind us ,
That power is just a time’s rust.
So bury yourself in your glass palaces,
And promise to whatever you believe,
If there is even a slight chance that you aren’t preyed,
Then you will never ever predate.
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 2:21 AM UTC
conscience
through every one of my lifes
accrued
lichens symbiotically
serve as
a metaphor
I rely on organisms
they rely on
me
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 6:20 AM UTC
#*A day, a week
Months on a row
Unburdened by the show
They go
Dates to keep
To pass, and sweep
The crumbs, away
In the moment, and for
The quiet, in the humdrum
Forever stays
In absolute state
Pitchers and plants
Watering and nurturance,
Symbiotically thrive
no pitcher plants
In place*#
Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 9:42 AM UTC