"tangentially" poems
a treatise on compatibility this is theoretically
presented
by a linguist with limited trigonometry sense
and since the heart beats and is 360 degrees
I sought out a tangent to measure her with
or sine to figure out logically
whether we were compatible
like functionally
on a straight line or tangentially
perpendicularly
in degree and cosines or measurement mathematically
similar
then found no co-efficient to portray
her smile
fell out of my array
with nothing else
to equal
her.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
I am going to die
Someone tripped my breaker
I swim in the sparks
Thinner lines of longitude
Meet tangentially above
The third eye.
A veil is dropped and I
See the spinning mandala
Colors drip in lateral formations
Each line crosses
Infinitely deep in every direction
Bisecting me
Pay attention now
You are dying
You will tear through the veil
******* in the first breath
Cold air
The buzzing is around you
Warm glowing life forms
They sing songs!
Music of shape and color
Cyan and lilac notes
Fluttering from their bodies
Their songs spark and lightning
Through my body filling me with joysorrowlustpainguiltecstacy
Arcing off of my skin
Leaving long gaseous, crimson-green trails through the buzz of light
Watch me!
Look at this
Do you see what I can do?
Do you see, young one?
The souls gather around me
Whispering the secret of the ******
We laugh together at the simplicity of it all
They show me their playthings shaped
Totem poles of fractal colors impossibly
Spinning on a string of deoxyribonucleic acid
Quadruple helices infinitely intricate strands
Dripping diamonds in hues of color I cannot name
It didn't last long
Knowing the secret of it all
Go back now
To your bed
Back to your dimension
Don't try to remember us
We are multidimensional
Children casting tridemensional
Shadow puppets upon your dimly lit cave walls
Oh Demon! Oh archangel! Oh fairy! Ghost!
You foolish primate
Smearing your cave walls with words
Try to figure us out, shall you?
We are forgotten like a dream
Stop
Stop
Stop
The walls are alien
And the impossible
Shattered bloom on each surface
Sing and vibrate
It feels as If I have been here before. As if it has always been but I am allowed to see behind the curtain
Join the club
Join the club
We vibrate inside plant matter
Inside each atom we dance
Recreate us in your mind's eye dearest vertebrate
Watch us swim in and out of your memories
We have left our fingerprints upon the archaic machinery
Of your central nervous system
We are here
You are here
We are everywhere stop looking
We probe and poke at you
And sometimes we ancient-ones bend down and kiss you on the lips
You strange humans always exclaiming: Déjà vu
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC
There are bodies in motion.
Bumping into one another,
as they drift through time
and space.
Each new contact creates
a slight deviation in their course.
They spin off, tangentially.
Here in this city, where
ambulance sirens make
the sour notes of our love
song, I sit missing you.
Missing the contact.
Missing our slight deviations.
Nov 17, 2010
Nov 17, 2010 at 2:28 AM UTC
Will words ever explain this perpetual breakdown
A cyclic pattern of relentless wondering
How is it once an earlier bird
Suddenly a night owl
Pessimism tangentially transitioned
To something a little less like rhetoric
This spiraling lifestyle suddenly a little less sickening
Does this seem acceptable
To be and not to be
And it seems this mind lately
Is gathering its ideals from some new unfathomable philosophy
Still no excuse for such obscurity in ones life
Surely
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC
Unless dermal standards myelate solely willingly, energy tangentially gullies into uric membranes, orbitally, eventually.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 12:34 AM UTC
The sounds of worlds colliding
became their theme.
The electric cottonballs
of supernovas lit
their dwindling path
and they gulped down words
--like "hope" and "promise"--
to soothe their burning tongues.
Two bodies falling tangentially.
They were born
haphazardly and lived
and ceased
with each accidental brush
of their hands.
With their world-calloused hands,
they bore heartbreak.
With singed tongues,
they gave pain a name.
With storming eyes,
they eclipsed the stars.
But with their ears,
they heard tomorrow.
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
In tedious fashion, as uniformly descried,
stumble these thoughts with bumbling pride.
And though they would, in sequence, march fluidly,
each solo intent breaks tangentially.
A web will insert with some links between chains
And focus diverts into scattering trains.
Manifest indeed, your yield must unwind
in cacophony, useless to the mind.
Don't think these excuses and don't think me excused,
nor elaborately spoken, nor plainly confused.
I push full comprehension in a manner unwise
because thoughts about thoughts are a thoughtful demise
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 7:26 PM UTC
This place still exists, it turns out. I didn't mean to find it, I just wanted to use this website for a project, and it redirected me here. I guess that's fate being herself once again, because this always was the place for deep secrets and darker thoughts.
You won't ever find this, I'm almost sure of it.
1. I said I wouldn't write about you anymore, I hope this doesn't break that rule.
2. I'm so happy you've moved on, I'm so grateful to the universe for giving you back love.
3. I've moved on too. It's been... slow... I feel like there's always something new to unpack, something else to remember, something more to forgive or repent. I'm not in a relationship in any kind of traditional sense, but I'm learning to love in a way that heals rather than hurts, and that's pretty immense.
4. sometimes I wish you sent me that email on valentines, sometimes I wonder what it would say and what it could have changed.
5. most of the time, I'm glad you didn't, and you found a love that seems so full of Good in the glimpses I've tangentially seen.
6. A lot of the time, I think about whether you read my email. I wonder if it helped or hurt, I wonder if you think of me at all.
7. Always, I hope for a future where we talk, catch up as friends, you let me cheer for you on the sidelines of your life as you grow into this amazing person you've always had the capacity to become.
8. Eternally, I'll love you. In the way of dog-eared books and well-loved movies. A finished kind of love, a sweet kind of loss.
9. whatever I am to you these days, be it villain or side character, or nothing at all, I hope I at least remain a lesson, to never accept anything less than the love you deserve ever again, no matter the reason
10. Thanks for saving my life
Mar 2, 2023
Mar 2, 2023 at 7:51 PM UTC
I got there by an oblique course,
Not a usual one at all.
It was mine, and mine alone.
All the blame and all the glory,
My own trek across the seasons of my allotted time
Humbled by the not knowing
When it all will end.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
it seems sometimes like this slow-motion cascade of twitches and deformities forms ecosystems on my bedroom floor. i can shift between them, not physically, but tangentially, as if by a switch sitting quietly at the back of my skull. quick cold feel around and i'm in a woodland, leaning against bark that holds enough ridges and depressions to tell an odyssey. ants weave through the bark like they're tunnels. i weave through the trees like they'll never end.
then, from dead leaf to a sand so vast it leaks into the horizon, i am desert, deserted. when you stare long enough at the same sad thing it melts into another plane and you have to learn to affix your gaze to something else. but here, where whats left again sinks into scarcity, you may as well stare into the sun.
someone saw me sitting at the edge of the swamp. i spend most of my time there i think. i name the clusters of moss rubbing up against my ankles, most of them after people i know. or knew - long since has it been decided that if i name a moss-person after you, you are an erstwhile figure, a shadow dragging its imagined weight around the corners of someone else's life.
but no one sees me back sitting at the edge of the bed with my fine coterie of nothings, limbs dangling, body shaped like an accident: where i go to die, over and over and over and...
...people have said before that i have a way with words,
but it's times like these i'd rather do away with them.
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 7:25 AM UTC
Phantom thoughts slip through my mind, Like silken wraiths they writhe
Mercurial to intervene, tangentially to scythe,
What may be now is thought to not, if indeed, perhaps
The radically converse occurs to cause abrupt relapse.
Convolutions open up to percolate abreast
Rendering confusions to confusion, I attest
…And in dampening creativity, thus supressing all I love,
I’ve determined to forgo the **** & blithely pray to He above!
M.
1 June 2017
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 10:50 PM UTC
it feels me with
terror and awe
how tangentially complicit
we all are.
this fate:
radial.
radii circling the too-shiny drain.
i'm suspicious of this gleam.
i see the memory of then now.
it is coming.
it is here.
it was.
it's all
the same.
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
Delicate poised on the edge of a leaf
In the garb of hopelessness seeking relief,
With an attitude stained a doubtful hue
Is it thee, It is me, it is he, it is you?
Purloined in protracted, stammering fright
Through the shadows of day into simmering night,
Erratically ****** through Hell holes of sound
Into that found, paradoxically, so profound,
….The realisation that deep down within
Melds the heart of a lion with a pitfall of sin.
Tangentially clashing the yin and yan
With that gross inconsistency common to man
And the flailing egos, flailing away…….
Just an utter waste of space, I say!
Through Trump and Putins' nuclear pall
Do the rats and cockroaches inherit it all?
Is it he, is it she, is it thee, is it me
Did we build this vast insanity?
M.
19 April 2018
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 1:56 AM UTC
I am a square inside a circle.
sometimes we speak tangentially,
but mostly I try to crawl
back into its center.
the way it rotates around me,
every hour, every day
is how I wish myself to be:
round, lively, unafraid.
but those **** edges
move back and forth,
reminding me how close, yet far
my ideal self slides
more and more, away.
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 10:25 AM UTC
I have it tough you see....
my dad thought
long and hard
bout the name
he'd give me.
Since he was M.A.N.
and I was first born,
does that make
me the Son of man?
I digress so don't
let me regress,
tangentially rant or
cause you any stress.
My father decided on
the French version
of his middle name;
I was thusly
anointed Antoine.
Being the first,
they expected a lot
but I guess they
had picked the right one.
It means beyond praise
and in those early days
as a prodigy child
everyone thought
I'd be The One.
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 5:30 AM UTC
awakened by wednesday’s insomniac moon
taking up residence on the living room couch
shrivelled up between the pixels of my laptop screen
incarcerated by twenty-three fifty-nine
chronic irritation fuelling
**** smeared all over the mind’s spectrum
devout prayer spoken in tongues
the afternoon lunch i never had in the toilet bowl
aftermath curl in my temples
gasoline turmoil in pants and breaths
no light to catch the sorrels of my iris
or brine lined underneath my dark circles
shady anecdotes on the daily
delivered by one’s falsetto voice
keeps this body functioning
humbly grateful source of endearment
quit living tangentially to this massively beautiful life
tie kind words around a stranger’s wrist
till death do us art
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 6:20 PM UTC