"transference" poems
I can feel that, Stop it
Stop thinking about me so that I can stop thinking about you.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 1:15 AM UTC
i must give you a full physical exam
to fully grasp my prognosis and plan
of treatment for you... dont be afraid
i feel confident, no need to debate
i can satisfy
and gratify
your pre-dic-ament
in the richest succulent
as a specialist, to some degree
my healing hands work expertly
but to receive full and complete treatment
you must partake my honey rather frequent
for a better plan of action
i require a full body transfusion
a chemical mixture of center fuses
a delicate blending of our juices
this may require several procedures
over time it provides many features
healing properties of your most vital *****
however worth it, even if, it cost a fortune
to this a can guarantee success
but first you must fully undress
i work with energy transference
your help required for successful convergence
of the best possible results
between two consenting adults
bartering is certainly a viable option
for your long term medical condition
providing equal services for each other
helps maintain balance to one another
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 1:01 AM UTC
Miscommunication
serendipity, anticipation,
blurred reality -
lost in the dialect
of a dream,
in pursuit
of Love
find callous irony;
subversion of desire
what's it all about?
to know and be known.
Mere seconds
of scrutiny
inferior,
I am shown.
Her appraisal
eviscerating
my warm flesh,
her tilted criteria
supplanting the interior,
voluble with
saccharine neologisms
and preferences
for the exterior.
(not mine)
Ironic was my
attraction to
her brain.
Lines, features
and symmetry,
image - the commodity,
aesthetics, the
currency
in this transaction,
cursory liaison,
incendiary,
collapse of the
insurgent ego -
there was no
us in the
the affair of
nothingness.
Bruised in
abasement,
I'm not the one -
I thought I was.
Hyperbole -
the center
of delusion,
a curious
diversion -
avoid my life.
The allure of
the illusion,
transference,
the ordinary to
the romantic,
the perfect other.
Searching, the
absorbing project -
aquiring wholeness,
did she reject me?
I rejected me.
The escape into
fraudulent
sadness,
to mourn,
is to displace,
the disowned heart
by self is tragic.
Should
I not mourn for
the one I'm
deferring?
Inside of me
It's safe,
to lament
the loss of
identity -
tension is agony
without resolve
sequestered,
in my pain,
self-imposed
familiar terrain,
upon retrieval,
awaking in
renewal,
mystery and destiny
providentially,
I am free.
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 8:08 PM UTC
autism to blame
for the white in white
male
(I blame)
***
for shared abstinence (I blame)
my former self for my
former
transference my baseline
jumper on
poverty the gnome
in your front yard on tough
interior
art
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
Love is for the poor,
and money for the rich
but wisdom is reserved
for those who caught the itch
of curiosity for the fact that they exist.
Those sparse few who dare
to put their faith into people
but expect not to see the eyes of god
inside of another man’s cathedral.
Knowing well that these lies and laws
could never guide us past the flaws
of good and evil.
Only believe in the dreamer
who refuses the role of a follower
and shuns the idea of a leader.
Be not deceived by status or acclaim
because it only makes you a disciple
of a product and a name.
Hold in high regard the tired hikers
born to the depths of the deepest valleys
and yet they rise before the light of dawn
like a striker to set ablaze the malaise
of these pedestrian days
that mock our souls
with monotonous toil.
This life is but an eternal recurrence
therefore every morn we are born anew
and that potential is a shot at transference
into something more eminent than you.
Become the bridge my friend
because there is no future
in being an end.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 2:11 PM UTC
~
*I work in the clouds
Building a world out of hype
I could be a beekeeper
A prison guard
Reverse pop idol
Extinguishers, all
Hackers ferry contemporaries
Around the diseased city
Merchants of transference
Polymorphing
Paths and angles
Pieces of eight
They could be brutal war fantasies
White noise translations of the snow
Cathedral nights in the deli
Ghost recordings from an opera house
Each with its own price tag
All the pretty girls
Thick with mascara
Go to plasticity
Drink chloroform
100 aspects of subterranea
So long as they come home
With a credit problem
Money devotion
It's what transferred us
Into numbered silhouettes
Slavishly pouring our blood into the sea*
~
Aug 24, 2022
Aug 24, 2022 at 5:12 PM UTC
Perfect rows of white teeth,
bite in to a raw mango-
your intent is evident
amber eyes signal the message.
As if by transference,
sour mango taste, I get on my tongue,
induces salivation.
I feel, your cruel teeth
bite below my taut male *******
Oct 21, 2011
Oct 21, 2011 at 7:21 AM UTC
soliloquies of silence
interrupted by fresh dewed tips -
and subtle variations of tingling sensations
where do i start..
pressure before the storm.....
illustrious clouds break open heavenly showers of golden light rainbow water droplets
and i’m coated in the elixir of a thousand sunset,sunrise,noon time clouds
painted by the colors that these mischievous droplets of water have been ,
it is dreamscapes luxuries that escape in mid afternoon ,
mid night time
at invitations glance
and slight brush stroke of hand leads to quiet moan from lips escape the mind pleasantly tied up in a pearl like haze
invisible fingers wonder yonder and invisible lips bite at soft spots
yet
the experiment continues for the transference of energy cascaded gathered up in
chakra centers with bounce between head and root three times then down to earth then up to crown the energy returns electric.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
Hand over hand, checklist and
A pen
Hull breach after hull
breach blown
Liquid leaking uncontrollably
Blank black space, vacuum
Eating up luminescence lost
Clarity, comfort me
Vacuum dines on comfort, too
EVA whistles somehow sad between
Waves of static and silence
Where is the sunrise headed?
Where is the new dawn?
Is this transference, or
Countertransference?
164 Eva cuts my cheek
leaves seeds embedded
in flesh that betrays the blood.
If Earth is the lonely world
I'm watching the worst sci-fi short
I'm a hero with no extent,
all patched pores defeated
By carbon in the end
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 8:58 PM UTC
The universe, she needs me.
For transference she is seeking.
Pouring feelings down my throat,
so they can find releasing.
And Im permanently wired
to the frequency shes speaking
Collecting dust from comets,
to carve out my own meaning.
I make light codes out of lessons.
I upload them when I'm dreaming.
Slowly taking all the pain,
and I turn it into healing.
And for every cleanse completed,
she leaves me with a teaching.
And the world's a little wiser,
a little more appealing.
• • •
Then I get another download,
and the cycle keeps repeating.
.
.
.
▪︎ mica light ▪︎
Sep 21, 2023
Sep 21, 2023 at 12:09 AM UTC
Guilt.
the only one who is guilty of anything is me.
of being naïve.
your treason was so exposed.
post cards, emails, text messages.
written in my own blood.
reminding me of how faithless I have become.
it was always present,
uncontrollable,
my love for your stigmata.
enraptured me.
I took it as my own.
Sociopath, NARCISSIST, insecure...
your transference worked so well.
for someone so stupid
you always seemed smarter
more mature
.
I was the only one being stupid.
falling for those sweet,
made up lines.
that took me
hook and sinker.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
Soulful Mention
Beautiful white women I’m asking you to stand down this time your well noted in the cool cats book of
Love you electrify and defy all true description as all magic does and native American woman copperas
Skinned you bend and lend yourself to the exotic natural wonders your long black hair moves along the
Prairie grass up over the foot hills into the mountain wilds with a sight that is spellbinding you go so far
And when you can go no higher than the powerful eagle carries you aloft where sight is lost and you
Cause faith to enter because otherwise it’s unbelievable the effect you have on me no this is for the
Ones that their voice was first heard among the lions roar who else could have the power and courage
To endure such injustice and burdens dark like your ebony skin it would take men like Sam Cook and
Otis Redding with raw emotion and deep soul to travel out of Georgia through the dark store fronts and
Neon club lights of Harlem flow through the big Easy take your current at flood stage through
Birmingham Mobile the projects of St Louis on through the gateway to the west Kansas City where you
Pick up speed and the drawl is covered by the sprawl through it all your name is being called slow down
Baby turn and stop within those songs and voices your glory is resounding your life goes unbounded the
Honey drops it causes all males to stop you’re in the presence of true ladies they can be soft as cotton
Candy or have an edge that is smoky bluesy best referred to as a trumpet blast that can also smolder
Drift down city streets the horn is sounding oh how appealing the girl has got her groove on listen your
Being called by the most brilliant voices of our time Zelma heard and for a time lived an immortal dream
The transference of sorrow would extend extol these women into heartfelt heroes you truly can’t
Create such ignorance and grim circumstance without creating the rarest black Rose stone walls laden
Fields plantations was their birth place they are the one point that our race has been raised to
Exemplary Character
Apr 28, 2012
Apr 28, 2012 at 8:17 PM UTC
with one finger in his mother’s belt loop the child lowers then lifts then lowers again his free hand without touching once the grocery’s tile. the long front pocket of his jacket boasts from one end the upper body of a woman whose ******* have been covered with one stamp each and from the other the woman’s bare feet I’m guessing won’t make the trip. the child’s two younger siblings recognize me from last week when I halfheartedly rolled over them with my cart and they graciously go stomach first to ground with their fists under them as if they’ve been given charge of a rose but are unsure which has it. the mother looks at me like I am long division to be avoided much the same as I was looked at in my prime. I have no cart this day so instead I mock stand on the boy and girl making sure my balance keeps me. the mother says enough and presses the right side of her nose with the back of her wrist which upon removal has on it a spot of blood I follow to her hidden belly button at which the transference clings and then reveals. I want to tell her my brothers never retrieved a single bright kite from a tall tree nor did they ever pull from their loose and ***** jeans any kind of toad that lived.
Jul 1, 2012
Jul 1, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
strange enough,
that word choice,
******
for they are all,
(or mostly)
men
they get on
their knees,
so eager to please
write a poem,
newbie,
they will be your
partner pretenders,
instant followers
but
the trick employed
is transference
they want you bad
to worship them,
that being the purest
of their false intentions,
their oldest trick,
guilt,
"if I follow you,
you should follow me!"
their kiss
Pass
laden with std's,
they want implanted
in your
hp inbox
The std is vanity.
what they need,
what they want you to imbibe,
is their world view,
poetry-is-by-the-numbers
the number of followers,
(how I detest that word)
the number of reads,
oft manipulated,
by cyber techno b.s.
so understand,
this craft,
you may have chosen,
is work, so hard,
because it comes from the gut,
wrenching pressing issues
inside you
it is about everything you want
us
to understand about you,
your vision peculiar,
without revealing your rawest self
so obviously
know this in advance
each poem has a unique audience,
as unique as you
years took me,
took me to grasp
this simply complex notion,
over come myself within myself,
that self-same infection
that audience is you
write to please yourself,
be your harshest critic,
popularity
will find you
your truths,
withour pandering,
will finds the seekers,
the quality lovers,
the truth
hungerers
they will find you,
of that,
be assured
amidst the millions of words,
yours are yours,
fear not the plaintive worry,
are they any good?
for the courage to post
yourself,
is the very
self same answer to that,
the bells toll
for thee
if it pleased you,
pained you,
enough that you released into this world,
in poem form,
it is good enough
poetry is ego
no question,
but keep yourself
on the right side of the line,
separating your ego from
the egotist,
and your poetry
will no question,
forever live,
a mark of you
upon the world
let us be brothers,
let us be sisters,
David and Jonathan,
Ruth and Naomi,
but not
Cain and Abel,
no anger, no jealousy,
just raw,
refined,
truth,
the truth
of you,
which cannot be
diminished by enumeration,
cannot be counted,
only blessed
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
Could it be that locked in memory
Ancient thoughts are held in store,
Passed on by Neanderthal man
Who's origins we may recall.....
Ape like in physique and frame,
Prominent prognathus jaw,
Burning eyes intense and sharp,
Intelligence to seek for more.
Telepathic thought transference
Little need for guttural grunt,
Massive strength in hand and thigh
Stinking pelt to back and front.
Rushing through the reed and long grass
Casting lance with lunging throw,
Mastodon with roaring bellow
Thrashing trunk with thunderous blow.
Darkness in the smoky cavern
Clustered at the flinted flame,
Family and others warming
Squat encircled, chewing game.
Listening in the chill of moonlight
Listening to the wolf pack howl,
Out across the snow clad forest
Out beyond the hooting owl.
Chewing pelts to soften leather
Massive teeth in massive jaw,
Wary eyes observe the weather
Southern winds may bring the thaw.
Luscious she with scent ascending,
Luscious she with hairy maw,
Bent to me in sweet surrender
Downy hip and coaxing paw.
Roar in rage and beat the earth
Blazing eyes and heaving chest,
Invasion from the **** Sapiens
Seeking females for their nest.
Skies descend with fire and brimstone
Rock cascades and burns the earth,
Mountain God has vent his fury
Scamper hard to cave’s safe berth.
Cold, so cold this bleak snow weather
No retreat from Winter’s ire
Brother, sisters, sons are huddled
Frozen dead in blue ice byre.
Few, so few now to migration
Trek to southern food and heat,
Starving, wet and hypothermic
Staggeringly trudge the weak.
Few, so few to intermingle
With the **** Sapiens here,
Serfs in ******* low and squalid
BUT SURVIVORS..STRONG AND CLEAR!
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
13 August 2011
Aug 13, 2011
Aug 13, 2011 at 12:39 AM UTC
Transferring action lit by dim candlelight
Forming sentences by the wind
A tall tale underneath painted purple bed sheets
Mysteries of life and the gatekeeper's lazy hand
A transference of love through the page
Bringing images by words and meter
Peter tempting Gabriel two times or more
Contracts ripped in half by two lover's quarrel
Necessary are these hours
Staring far into the stars
Nodding not into sleep, for
That
Is too easy
I nod for the scent of freshly shampooed wet hair
Or the glance of the eye downward from shyness
A tell that all is not stable, though both are quite able
To take what they will if they wanted if they could
An annoyance
Like the ***** of a finger on a rose petal
Ironic
Like stubbing one's toe
On your recently bought golden toilet bowl
Fresh are you, fruit of the Mid west
The snow in your hair never melts
Consequence beseeches you, fair angel
My heart is but a spool of yarn, fallen and tangled
Quick, in first gear
To the rear go the spears
Holy water pipes and
Misinformed volcanoes are but a wish
To see destruction
On what we familial souls
Claiming belief in what we love
What does one need other then
A room with a key and lock?
These men and women who flock
To shiny office and cloud piercing cathedrals
Are mere coffins ***** and metal
Lost in flight
Reaching for a moon that does not wish
To house us
Another night passes.
The dawn is quick to rise.
Mornings moon disappears
From sight behind the trees
And the marble fountain made
For the phantom of petty monarchy.
And though the phrase
Is spoken in a nightingales song
Does not mean that a razor doth hide
Underneath the tip of the
Very same tongue
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 2:29 AM UTC
We are not just similar
We are parallel !
In this cruel world of all kinds of vectors
It's either an invariable distance
Or a fully superposed confusion
No single intersection
And we lie there
stubborn and hopeless
Craving a translation
We are not just similar
We are parallel !
Our limits confined to a single plane
As life flows in all directions
We miss the marvels around us
In every remaining dimension
And we lie there
Blind and shameless
Craving a translation
Louder words
Barely heard
Answers clouded by blur of ignorance
Questions falsely trigger negative emotion
Chaos in misplaced transference
As mazes form from conversation
And we lie there
Deaf and clueless
Craving a translation
Not even a cascade of tears
Can bend us to converge
Tried turning the other cheek
We failed again to merge
Until one day, we exhaust our energy
Shields get broken, armor gets heavy
Only our inner demons left unstained
But they decided to flee our weak body
So we **** the pride with a suffocating hug
Bend the frown with a devastating kiss
Poison the anger by our cleansing drug
We let go of our ego, off to our bliss
And we lie there
Victorious and united
Achieving a translation
Then days go by as we oscillate
to the finish line in this dance of fate
We survive, it seems
We relive on the extremes
Aligned in happiness
or divergent in depression
In mystical perfection
or in catatonic emptiness
Stubborn and stiff
Blind and deaf
Clueless, shameless, hopeless
Craving irreversible translation
But we are not just similar
We are parallel !
~Epic Monkey
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 11:20 AM UTC
I wish to learn the secrets, so eternal
of spiritual transformation
To know the ways of the Ferryman
To usher souls through and beyond
I long to master the art
of cosmic transference
To carry the departed
to their resting place
And to be their guardian
It is not an act of hate,
Sick lust or twisted love
it is not the fault of rage
Nor is it for fun.
I do it in the name of
inhuman artistry
My life i've dedicated
To the Reaper's harvesting.
This world is such an ugly place
I'm your savior in a way
I cut you loose and set you free
I grant your spirit liberty...
Evil exists in all colors and codes
there's every kind of shape and size
A world ablaze, drowning in torture and ****
We could use a few more minds
like mine.
I am not a killer.
I am an apprentice of death.
I will guide your spirit home
on the wings of your last breath.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 5:42 AM UTC
One open can of
half empty **** water
popped the night before
for a palm of pills,
codeine and HRT
chased with Kamchatka 8-0
she collapses in bed
with hope in her head,
belly full.
Morning comes, her will is gone, she stumbles blind
to root her elbows at the window sill, still groggy
from the high of nighttime.
Noon comes and the clock stops, it's a road block
setup at the overpass and by the time
transference makes sense she's
spent her energy just shifting.
In place, enervated. A mistake.
A husk built of guilt and bone.
In a closed room full of blood and *****
alone. Atone.
In place, enervated,
elbows at the window sill.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
You Know.
You love to feel. Really feel.
Not all that pony phony excrement.
NO
I want to feel. I want to flow.
And now I can.
No longer does my mind win/
Now I am free to lose my body to my surroundings.
To listen to the rhythm of my cells, the rhythm of my blood.
My heart beats
and I listen.
Harmonize the sentiments.
Float on the the synchronicity.
Extricate the energy
vibrating pulsating reverberating Charge.
Tinge with respite. Ignite the tinder
of my uninhibited beauty. EXPLODE in oneirostatic luminance
Leave your brain, but find your body.
And with them find your self, finding them. E
vaporate, into infinite Tactation.
Consummate the Sensations of your wordless soul.
What we cannot express with our words we express with our skin.
See me. Feel me. Touch me. Feel me.
Lick the tentacles in my pores.
**** the mandibles from my constant bite wounds.
The seed of intertwining life sought through the seed of the lymnescate.
Transference
Note to my plural self: Listen to my thoughts more often,
especially when they don't come from my head.
Rhythms carry time. Flow rhythms water the timewave. Grow rivers find the groove. DANCE the current and find the soothing bedrock rootscape.
Find it with your ultimate states of dissolution.
Find it and it will carry you.
Find it and explode.
EXTRICATE EUPHORIA
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 2:56 PM UTC
The wheat harvest is Magickal, and you have always invited me into your damp crypt.
Apples are ripe when Demeter searches for her lost offspring, amidst shades of nocturnal eroticism.
Therefore, let us now bake bread with feminine or masculine features in the name of Southern rhythms where the hunt takes place upon acreage of the aristocracy.
Do you have any regrets or farewells in this season?
Let it flow like a bubbling brook through woodlands of this recollected netherworld.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
ideas stem from dreams
become beauty
and rise like steam
images sink
under the weight of cognition
with volition
with vision we rise
and encounter
our counter transference
with the gods
they project our humanity
through icy hearts
called stars
so far away what can we say
is it possible to reach them
or do they stay immutable
immaculate and innocent
we are the children
of discontentment
her back like gold
her back like a river
i wish to drink
from the mouth of that valley
her eyes are two oceans
that meet in treacherous channels
waves swell at her brow
i drown in this music
i awake in this storm of love
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 12:47 PM UTC
Freud's Frantic Friends
Psychopathology
therapeutic techniques
free association
and tight **** cheeks
manic depression
afraid of my fate
you say it's okay
if I go ahead and **********
transference redirection
it's my daddy's fault
he was the one who told me
take the money from the vault
I can't stand up
but you say it's okay
I can blame someone else
for making me that way
it was a friend of a friend
that groped my crotch
it was his own dam fault
I stole his fancy watch
extreme hate rage and
parentification
general distrust
needs no elaboration
my mommy made me mean
so I take it out on you
cause you remind me of her
in everything you do
the way that you wiggle
when you go for a walk
I'm glad you stopped by
to have this little talk
Gomer LePoet...
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 6:54 PM UTC
The girl
sitting across my table
holding a strawberry
tenderly
between
her pursed lips,
has her wanton eyes
resting on mine.
I taste strawberry in my mouth.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 11:31 PM UTC
Sit in crimson sky sunset park
Quiet city sounds
Churches adjacent
Diocese I'm sure
Tho no man'o god
Insulated here
For I'm sure
At home
They're watching
******* feel I can't shake
Like J and his star on the
Wall scars from the fall philosophy
That I don't understand
Beyond as manifestations
Of psyche transference
And the Fibonacci sequence
Part of a quantum spiral clearly seen
Tell him about the Golden Ratio
With trepidation
Fuel to the fire
Say you want to help but
Play mind game chicken with faith
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC