"telekinetic" poems
Now for those that don't know
I'm a huge fan of ninjas
From cyberpunks like Hiryu and Jago
I guess my subconscious is linked to them
These warriors in the wind
From Sheik to Smoke
Ermac's telekinetic choke
Ryu Hyabusa to scorpion
subzero to Joe Musashi
These warriors in the wind
are part of what defines me
Raven and Yoshimitsu
I'm nowhere near the ability or agility of a ninja
Ninjutsu probably would end up being the tool of my demise.
I may never reach the skill of a ninja
but that doesn't mean I won't try
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
Grass turns rest round
love set world self need.
Vomitorium forget word
hand thought waste powdered
leaves minds present
wills leak simply
say wan turn time neon
Dreams moments' control
Idea, ascent;
graze cliches
Adversity based lump myth solid
disguised cancer cages.
Repetition, test, twist, strip, sew.
Entered shortly.
Promptly moral,
border seeing stirred tale wanton.
Spake grace,
“Eat, scar message
loses heed, seemingly!”
Serpent gravity,
tame killed bearing.
Engine resound telekinetic
499 merry-go-round repeatered,
answer's 'cos empathy's idealogical.
We've sapphire muppets
when'll sighn heat-ray -
Truithfilled.
Beltsched.
Amyth.
Ord's sighns,
discotheques placticity teaste;
firstless plasticity.
Algorithms gruesome
argue opaque feeding.
Cheated clips lame distraction,
beings tease statement,
cogs cote photosynthesis.
Evasion necessarily replenish
ebbs divided.
Tamed, ensues coils ajar
freed shed attention.
Mountain lined sail, future redeemed.
Talk.
Seen heart grind, operate wings.
Tail door using shared stop,
kept heard miss.
Music start:
sky winds lust shall gave bit kiss.
Feel like know just way,
live left fall
sees mind truth.
Wrong room.
Disdain.
Eye life face writhing coat,
drinks rhythms
fat appeared blade.
Died state half answers
broke wheels simplicity.
Bliss.
Solution deeply faced, fades perfection,
rises failed.
Necessary lines selling,
read,
asked.
Catalyst train turned lead memory,
lights feeling book grave.
Algae sent burns bear,
dove follow led.
Field filled
astray comfort.
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC
You belong to me,
across the electronic sea.
The mind can be electrifying,
but only when set free.
The spire of the mind,
connecting our souls.
Telekinetic soul searching,
searching for what is whole.
Electronic based love,
connecting hearts with sparks.
Electro-love,
I've had enough,
of living in,
a coma.
You belong to me,
across Internet access key.
Two hearts can be unstoppable,
no matter where they lead.
The dungeons of the heart,
are dark, deep, and cold.
But when a flame is lit inside,
the traveler becomes bold.
But we are two screens apart,
two screens too far.
Electro-love,
I've had enough,
of living in,
a coma.
Databases overload,
my heart's going to implode.
Over heated hard drive,
brain is lost, brain is fried.
Electro-love,
I've had enough,
of living in,
a coma,
a coma,
a coma,
a coma.
Electro-love,
I've had enough.
Electro-love...
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
It came quickly, roots
broke through marbled concrete
And vines draped off
balconies of skyscrapers
Floor to ceiling windows
disappeared behind ivy
Some beasts melted into shadows
around the corner as their
barks were adopted
by the wind and pushed
in strollers by the howl
and the cold bite
In the air, you could hear
unattended car alarms
And neon signs flickering
on and off as they hum like
a deathbed, EKG flat-line
Hanged stoplights
swayed back and forth
off streetlight arms
bent like telekinetic spoons
spinning like criminals
left on olive trees to die
And the drab color seemed
strangely magnetic and
right
I can swallow a pretty big storm
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
Half an idea entered a field
disguised as a blade of grass.
It faced the others and spake
Have you not heard, this world it turns
and as my mind burns you rest,
but I’ve found a solution
and if you take heed, a book
at only 4.99 you can read
and be redeemed.
Now the grass stirred deeply in thought,
for this idea, that had seemingly just appeared
may bear some truithfilled bearing.
Then as the winds died down
the grass turned round, and said; Now
you’re wrong ‘cos we’ve found it’s the sky that turns round
and promptly killed him -
(Using a photosynthesis based telekinetic heat-ray)
Well the message in this tale could well be
to follow your dreams and be all your beings,
even in the fat face of adversity!
...but such a statement, truth has failed,
for the moral of this gruesome twist
is, more simply, if you’re an ideological catalyst;
don’t talk to grass.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
the moon looks a lot like porcelain tonight
but not in a superfluously verbose kind of way--
more of a telekinetic fragility kind of way.
where the plaid shirt hanging on that semi-open closet
across the room faintly resembles
a picnic blanket that belonged
to a midsummer day sometime in March--
some memories as such now only belongs
in a film cartridge//
or on post-emptied bottles of Prosecco on your nightstand.
I now understand--
why hurricanes are named after people
but to make people--
fleeting, paper people--
your universe
is to trail further and further away from land.
we're too inlove with chances;
too fixated in the idea of emancipating the uncertainty from the "maybe".
lie your flimsy bones on your pillow-invaded sheets darling
and call it a lifeboat.
it's a fragile night
and so are you.
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 5:25 AM UTC
Waters of Visualizations flow through my soul
Slumbering, peacefully, winds of energies from afar
The call and whisk me away
To those astral planes allowing us to walk
and travel without tolls. without limitations.
As I touched your hands and I looked into your eyes
Your face appeared that it was not of this Earth
It was Human in looks and her beauty was quite breathtaking
She spoke in a language which seemed as if it were from ancient times.
Beautiful sounding words.
At first, my brain could not comprehend the messages that she was trying to convey to me
After holding her right hand, a glow, to my temple
A short while later...in talk and in understandings of each other
We had no limitations and were free.
She spoke of the lack of appreciation
For the gifts of being placed in a new and beautiful world
Underappreciating the intelligence that "our family" was given
However, it had not dared to even tap within the childlike entry into such logic and learning.
How she reached out to me as I had been one of the few who tried to reach above this limits in which our family had been proud to watch me frow and overstep
I realized then.. we were not of this Earth.
We were a race from beyond the stars and were, to the openness to see such, were unwilling.
After strolling for what appeared to be many hours
It, was indeed many years on our real planet, which she spoke the name of "Xinix"
"Remain off course and watch the downfall of your world and extended family through useless wars and power greed. Refuse to see our true native tongue..not in words..but in telekinetic Communual Speech of Connected Minds."
"Spread the word. You have the brain knowledge I shared and the willingness to see our second planet grow. We shall always be in touch. Even past the measurement of stars...Through our Living Souls...
I know, Xenopus (your Xinic Race Name. To slow down or stop this infinite, childlike insanity...or be the rescued while those about you destroy their own existence."
"I'll be looking after you."
The winds threw me back into my "ordinary and Logical World.."
This time, I "knew such travels were not of a dream"
As looking at my chest in the mirror - I saw the glowing blue heart beating from inside of me...
My true Family crest of one who Shall Help Teach the world. To those who would be able to understand and listen.
So I might be able to save, much more of our family, to reach the joining of a peaceful and loving race, true blue.
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 6:52 PM UTC
*A Magnetic Dream Conceived Of Timeless Perfections,
With Telekinetic Screams & Flawless Imperfections,
Programmed To Transmits Her Prismatic Light,
Inflamed, She Emits An Axiomatic Delight,
Her Lilac Senses Filled With An Eternal Slumber,
With Insomniac Pretenses Sobbing Into A Nocturnal November,
With An Ensnared Avidity & Reunited Blues,
Flared With Frames Of Her Reignited Hues,
Tattered As She Respires Into An Abysmal Disguise,
Her Motionless Shadows Reprise Into A Dismal Surprise,
- 03:57*
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 6:38 PM UTC
It’s mid-afternoon in the sweltering sun
And my mind is stumbling like a cloud
And I’m trying to empty its contents on the table
But I’m afraid of what I’ll find.
And if I stay here I’m doomed
To end up like my parents,
Looking at the same walls
********** every speck of paint
Shattering each framed family photo
With my pseudo-telekinetic powers
And if I go I’m doomed to end up a *****
A heartsick wanderer.
Vulnerable to the forces and people after me
Staying or going won’t eradicate my fears
So what is option C?
I’ve already tried madness
And pills and alcohol
And all the quick fixes I could get my hands on
And if I fall for him,
I could collapse like a dying star
And if I don’t tell him how I feel
I might lose my place in the universal race
And have to chase him in my next lifetime
I’ve been so long on the defense it’s taken its toll
I’ve become fat and lazy and a nasty drunk
With a switchblade at my side
And my medication slows my metabolism
My DNA slows my metabolism
And I wonder how many elements I could swallow on the periodic table
And I think about the time I took speed and drank endless pots of coffee
And how much of a rush it was at night but how horrific it was in the day
And if I had money everyday I’d drink myself to death without mercy
Choking on one’s ***** has to hold some poetic merit
All accidents are beautiful as long as you’re a bird chained to the sky
Beneath outer space and God’s realm of heaven
Still no matter how much I write the world sees me as
Fat, lazy and useless-
A baby that needs to be supervised
But needs to get a job because times are tight
But the only job that doesn’t give me panic attacks
Is the job I’m doing right now
Which may or may not serve a purpose after I’m long gone
And I feel I may die heartbroken and penniless
But refuse to conform to a society that shunned me
And some believe in randomness and coincidence
But I still see in signs and symbols,
Mostly from my dreams which the devil wakes me up from too early
And the clouds no longer talk
The rabbits no longer come in pairs
But I still believe in the portal in the garden
Where the face of an ancient turtle welcomed me.
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
Did You ever dream you were telekinetic?
Did you ever dream you could juggle the moon?
Did you ever dream you were in Royal India but woke up too soon?
Did you ever dream you were physically in a dream?
Making friends and conquering enemies
Did you ever dream your future self was giving you advice for a bright tomorrow?
Did you ever dream you could gallivant in space?
Did you ever dream you were multiple selves?
Existing in varying realms
Living different lives simultaneously
And when one self loses the other wins
One self a noble another a king
A king with several queens
A noble who courts well but to have a fairlady can only dream and swell
Did you ever dream a dream within a dream? making love and having soul ballad *******
Have you ever dove into the thick streams of puddles?
Have you ever smoked the steam of vendors' cooking in winter?
Have you ever danced at the seam where world elements meet?
Did you ever? If infinity wasn't it would be nothing, and eternity not then never!
Would you ever try to endeavour?
If there be perfect weather and a present to treasure,
Then you'd have a past of adventures
a future to measure
and a life of never-ending-ever's.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 2:25 PM UTC
To all bone fragments of Galeria Del Osario
1.
I want to place you in the depths of forgetting.
Place you like a butterfly in a frame, looking alive but dead of course. Place you like how numbers are arranged from 1 to infinity (but who cares to count?) Place you like how chaos displaced darkness. Place you in the tip of a glacier knowing that the entire block will just disappear in a decade or two.
Like how climate tries to displace us. Our trace will soon be forgotten.
2.
Surely, the climate is too rigid between us; two beings who found separation in all degrees of telekinetic attractions. For two beings who found shelter in the anonymity of chance. Chance to meet. Chance to declare once and for all the unfolding of luck.
Did luck really unfold or it was just me who hoped?
3.
Time is the bare witness to all tragedies, say two lovers who never found the consolations of fate. Time is the curse of the flesh, the rotting wisdom of conscience.
Time flees. Time forgets. Time remembers.
4.
By all means, the world is too small. Sometimes we wage war to small dimensions seemingly large. Where are we by the time that the world collapses into a small room? Where are we when the room pretended to be small but the gap between us is a year, light years perhaps.
Nomads, we are not. We cannot call any cave a home.
After all, what sort of space would cater us?
5.
A massacre happened 43,000 years ago. No one cares to remember. Nine of them were killed by new comers. El Sidron witnessed the coldest crime. If only tears can shed their fate, can we cry for them?
Who cares to write their memories? Who cares to paint their thoughts? Who cares to count their broken bone fragments in the caves?
I want to place you in the depths of forgetting.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 3:29 AM UTC
last night when the mothership came
i slept in the trees full of night sounds and shadows
and my hair unwrapped in the wind
deciphering ancient scrolls on my eyelids
she hovered like a vulture in a clean open sky
and i awoke shivering as she swooped down
platooning over the riverbank
and i stood with my arms outstretched
at the edge of the bubbling water pit
for light years until snot icicles grew gray on my face
cringing under the great vacuum sky
and now fog whitens into morning and
i am enveloped in sun-silence
as the last three stars still flash like cities of the future
the smell of grain becomes tweezers in my nostrils
and the sun is a giant roaring furnace
burning a sense of adventure in my southern boy blood
the memory of big pale nutless creatures wearing zoot suits
escaping into the abyss from the green dawn in their classy airship
meanwhile my hairless face being polished by the wind
blind drunk on dew and awaiting salvation
lips pulling away from big white teeth and pink gums
in high song and shrill laughter
a naked schizoid of the morning warped and cunt-crazy
silently dancing beckoning the universe with
telekinetic strength to bring another cosmic storm
because i am double minded in this transformed version
of myself and i will ride the electric tidal wave created
by our sweaty kiss like the sound of a trumpet
being blown as triumphant and far away as a lightning strike
i have learned to control the magic manipulate
particles in empty space and i'll ride this
luminescent rowboat under the charcoal sky
into infinity
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 8:24 PM UTC
i'm like a cat,
i sit on the windowsill
drink and smoke
and do the least
practicality of my
existence other than
sleeping, autistic darting
of the eye to fake telekinetic
coercions of unmovable things,
but i also do that to
imitate the mating calls
of foxes in the night,
in description:
like a dry laugh, like a non-phlegmatic
laugh, very coarse if taste buds are
in question bitter, like a solitary H
without an identifiable vowel to
make a couplet that doesn't desire
a rhyme.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 2:46 PM UTC
My house has seen too many monsoons
deranged doors shrieking in paranoia
The paint is flaky, lost to the elements
Teacups chipped and dusty, spoons bent in telekinetic fatigue
My fans are fans of decapacitation
But there comes a time that
you would like to cohabit this hostile hostel
With someone who is not bitter at the stars
Someone with doorbells and not medieval fortifications
With smiles that warm the winters and cool the Indian heat
I've lived this way for far too long, hiding from the sun
unworthy of someone on the other side of the bed
emotions unkempt, ruffled thoughts and passions raw
Torn smiles and hands skilled at pushing away
Words that shy from affection and the touch of death
I have a house to renovate, I don't know how to make it a home
So I sit on the porch, waiting, till they have had a look inside
Sit, till they decide this estate isn't real enough for them.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 12:01 PM UTC
You were that green blanket.
I slept with on the couch.
We were poor and I didn't care.
It was the only life I knew.
Coffee mug through Television glass.
I still carry pieces of shattered aftermath.
I was the baby. Youngest of four.
My brother the keeper kept my eyes
fixed on the door. A broomstick to the window and out into the storm.
We were runaways
On rainy days
We'd find our place
Our escape
From the storm
From our broken handlers
Bullet hole filled soul
Of our father
Taught that life was anger
And comedy
And pain
And sadness
Blindfolded battles of epic
Telekinetic brotherhood
Black eye light bulbs
Putting our heads underneath the pillow
So we don't have to hear anything
Pretending to be asleep
Watching wrestling
Like it was the only thing that mattered.
Going to church with grampa
And gramma
Her hand would shake back then
But she would always smile
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC