"teeniest" poems
I want to use smaller and simpler
Words, until my poems are those of
Infants drawing stick figures
On gallery walls.
Haikus like commas;
Periods of teeniest tiniest
Truths.
I name this
School of
Poetry
Crayon.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
you know it’s possible
in some reality-branch of Super Science
when you’ve just got out of bed
and then you are in the kitchen
there is still a you
lying in bed
as is another before
you went to bed
and so there is another
in the kitchen
while you are in the car
a you in every
second split into countless fractions
as in picture frames
of the journey you take
you get the drift -
but which you gets the drift?
every you drifting in space
but what of it? you ask
*of this possibility
of multiple realities?*
Well, it’s when I knew I was *******
that’s when it got scary
cos I knew then
I was caught infinitely
with a boring you
in every nano second:
cos if you’re there, I’m caught too...
every second caught in indivisible slices
all round the teeniest-weeniest section of an infinite string
of a boring you
and poor me - *bored and *******
Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 6:01 PM UTC
Sometimes I feel a void inside myself,
Emptiness ready to crush me with its nothingness;
And then again I open my eyes—
And the world stares back again.
My frame is a reed, hollow from the inside,
Whole from the outside,
And all I know is that I am matter.
The deafening and resounding silence
Is another matter of concern—
It doesn’t crushes; just makes me devoid
Of all the bliss of Nature’s precious notes;
It is the only sound which surrounds me
In the maddening crowd of the quintessential.
There is the numbness which confounds me:
It has the worst slap of damnation,
Amplifying the teeniest touch,
Pouring life into every cell.
It tosses me amid the tempest in the Ocean,
And leaves me battling the waves alone.
What distances me from my kin?
What is that which I am always seeking?
Life comes and goes, and here I am,
Still at a loss to comprehend the haps.
I just am, will just be; and none would lament
The real me, as it is wrapped in its shadows.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 7:36 AM UTC
People are better when you don't know them
They can be whoever you want them to be
It's not the same when you get to know them
Their reality limits them
I think that's the problem,
I've put everyone that I find the teeniest bit interesting up on a pedestal
Why do I forget that they are humans. Just humans.
Guess you don't have to be religious to be into idolatry
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 4:24 PM UTC
The gradient of the sky, it
Makes my heart ache
Just the teeniest bit
White to blue.
Pure to sad.
Purely sad.
Too many of us are.
me.gs
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
Pi is God in Disguise.
God is the circumference and the diameter
Of the teeniest circle and the vastest.
One Unending,
Only One:
And we are also God in Disguise–
Really, We are This.
We are This.
We pray to God
To restore our Awareness.
So we become Fully Aware
There is nothing but God
And we are This,
We are This.
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 3:36 PM UTC