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"tessellating" poems
you are my animal, and I am your whip. what exists between us is only dust—a milky center of blood tessellating with heart cells. I’d hide in your briefcase and be smuggled across the boarder as a cheese knife if only you’d look at me—your animal, my whip sending flakes of fresh flesh midway along magnets…but be careful. once you catch crack of my sting there is no going back.
0
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 3:28 PM UTC
cootie catcher
I was with the grass. Trees steadily swaying above me Birds flew like sparks It was blue with cotton clouds Drifting calmly about. Tessellating , separating and tessellating again. The sun was lowering from the darkening sky, preparing to retire Into the ocean of the azure.
0
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 4:25 PM UTC
casual thursday
She is organized in a way that is unfathomable, An alluring contradiction with the eyes of a madwoman On the body of a laid-back cat. You try to ****** her but she is everywhere above you And every night when you meet her She already has you trapped inside with everyone else who is propelled by her many solar systems. You watch her when she appears dormant. You can try to calculate her patterns, But since you met her she has worn nine different faces, And she dresses as too many species to name Yet you may think she is tame. This is true, she does less damage than she is capable of, So test her limits but remember that The universe has no edge. She is curved and always expanding. You can’t decide if she is too fat or just the right size Because she is shapeless and swimming before your eyes. Her stars are many but her constellations are uneventful. She bursts her stars like whiteheads And swallows herself up in the muddy, black potholes left behind. Her galaxies overlap too much to be teased apart. Each sun has its own ideas about gravity And claims each others’ planets as their own. This is not a harem though for she is not polyamorous. Worse, they are tessellating love triangles. Love for her is like politics only there is only one wing, one branch And all parts are just a sum of her. She couldn’t love you even if she wanted to. There is already too much for her to maintain, Too much to spread evenly across your small body And too much for even God to see. You’re not an astronomer, a telescope is a peep show to you You lie in your hammock seeking instant gratification, all of her all at once. Even if she were simply one of those stars She wouldn’t travel light-years for you. You think you know her, the brightest star above you, The one you stare at thinking she is staring at you, The one who flips her hair like the other girls you like, Who all share the burden of giving you The satisfaction of having something to flirt at, Something glorious to form into feeble prey With your small, shallow eyes, and which you use to glorify Your own simple machine of a body.
0
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 7:22 PM UTC
Astronomer
She is organized in a way that is unfathomable, An alluring contradiction with the eyes of a madwoman On the body of a laid-back cat. You try to ****** her but she is everywhere above you And every night when you meet her She already has you trapped inside with everyone else who is propelled by her many solar systems. You watch her when she appears dormant. You can try to calculate her patterns, But since you met her she has worn nine different faces, And she dresses as too many species to name Yet you may think she is tame. This is true, she does less damage than she is capable of, So test her limits but remember that The universe has no edge. She is curved and always expanding. You can’t decide if she is too fat or just the right size Because she is shapeless and swimming before your eyes. Her stars are many but her constellations are uneventful. She bursts her stars like whiteheads And swallows herself up in the muddy, black potholes left behind. Her galaxies overlap too much to be teased apart. Each sun has its own ideas about gravity And claims each others’ planets as their own. This is not a harem though for she is not polyamorous. Worse, they are tessellating love triangles. Love for her is like politics only there is only one wing, one branch And all parts are just a sum of her. She couldn’t love you even if she wanted to. There is already too much for her to maintain, Too much to spread evenly across your small body And too much for even God to see. You’re not an astronomer, a telescope is a peep show to you You lie in your hammock seeking instant gratification, all of her all at once. Even if she were simply one of those stars She wouldn’t travel light-years for you. You think you know her, the brightest star above you, The one you stare at thinking she is staring at you, The one who flips her hair like the other girls you like, Who all share the burden of giving you The satisfaction of having something to flirt at, Something glorious to form into feeble prey With your small, shallow eyes, and which you use to glorify Your own simple machine of a body.
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we are an infinite                regress     of reflections and           refractions     of actions and         reactions          complex       fractions of interference     patterns     and mathematical    interactions   intricately intersecting    connections          branching on   tracks through the   confusing   profusion        of this soothing     illusion   we create                   of reality     being a   place          tessellating in   parallel  space                   like an  abstract fractal   in an interdimensional tesseract reflecting back on itself forever
0
Jan 22, 2023
Jan 22, 2023 at 2:06 PM UTC
Fractal
I saw God in a cheap motel & He said I was trying too hard He told me I should lighten up But I was too preoccupied tracking time through vibrating echoes in the air Rapidly evolving and devolving And screaming out of my ******* head My consciousness deserted the hollow husk of self And like a gas, expanded to fill the room Shattered the shit-stained windows, and expanded to fill the world Laughing skinless skulls filled up the tessellating skies & their hysteric soundwaves penetrated the oceanic depths of my mind Where Machiavellian machinations revolved ceaselessly Circling unattainable ends I need to release the pressure But my consciousness has grown so colossal I no longer know how to **** it I **** out all the venom & vinegar I drink And my lungs refuse to give in to poison fumes & I cry out in frustration Will I ever meet God again? I wanna tell him I lightened up
0
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
Acid Trip # 1
The leaves were prisms of glass Light scattered in every direction Flowing green over stream and bush Warm and lovely and lush I stopped to stare through honey-filled eyes The softly winding gravel path Marked my way between the trees Birds sang and flew between their nests Sporting their technicolour crests Leaves drifted through the summer breeze I could not prevent my pleasant smile Or so you had told me some other time The rushing water tessellating, sparkling And alive with the spirit of joy Drowned out my often crowded mind
0
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 6:32 PM UTC
For the time being
You want two cellphones with different functions, and a clock that doesn't work. A tessellating, complementary work of art but you're glad with what you have. Someone to talk to over pizza. And another over some wine. It's never what it seems when you're insecure, always inconsistent. And a clock that doesn't work. Who draws the lines and why do they put them there? We all do, because we always have.
0
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
The big picture
I longed for you, on thousand sunrises that together we'll spend thousand sunsets. We always felt the same, different perspectives and different hues tessellating on blank canvas we call life. I love you in black and you love me in darkest shade of black together we breed vantablack.
0
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 6:05 AM UTC
Vantablack