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"ultralight" poems
do you see me from the trees the grow above me that grow out to the vineyards across the dirt-risen floor yearning for the sunlight to love once again as I dwell on thoughts coasting along the river confessing out loud to the dried sunflowers and the ultralight beams walking on water with the thorns on my feet calling out to heavens above.
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Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 2:44 PM UTC
paused.
I open the blinds and see the world - in return, what does the world see? It sees me, and all my splendid, split personalities, living these amazing times, of amazing pleasures, in which we tweet tweets, and post posts re ego-trips and copyrighted links, videos and things; and, as stray dogs, we ramble randomly, and all the time,   living in our infinite worlds, of infinite lanes, till infinity; yet we suffer so much pain. Our Shih Tzus take us on extended walks, firmly leashed to our Koss plugs, as we drone cool tunes on multihued iPods, iPhones buzzing ringtones of tittering babies, stolid kings and hyperactive frogs, which would all make my eighty-six year old dad want to gag; we fly ultralight megaplanes at the sonic sound of speed, through virtual and real space, connecting dots at low- cost prices, while we belt-up, gear-up, gulp Gaga and gorge heat-inducted meals of deer, horse and over- promoted crap; and then, wow surprisingly, we are all so unsatisfied. We consciously all move-in together, and **** on end, like statistical sheep, pre-married, unloving, and broken up, and justify it all, to ourselves, with our fully stretched spandex morality, over low-carb brunches @Starbucks, two 14” screens of separation; we paint pornographic images of virgins, all called Mary, in the name of art, and, white-clad, **** babes and alter-boys, and penetrate each other, first with our fingers, deeply, then superficially, without even wondering, for a zeptosecond, why we can’t stand one another any longer. We crank-up dependencies, like high street mainliners, shamming and slaughtering for neurotoxic fixes of smileys and Crystal on billion-dollar Kogo yachts, while we all just pedal on, dispassionately, down and over interior canals, to the core of our hocked, abbrev lives, chronically connected and severely distracted, in aromatic polymer bubbles, heedlessly cruising through comic-strip farms of mock vegetables, surely to nowhere and towards no one; and quite frankly, the world laughs at all this, and sobs, and so do I.
0
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 4:08 PM UTC
Chronically connected and severely distracted
I open the blinds and see the world - in return, what does the world see? It sees me, and all my splendid, split personalities, living these amazing times, of amazing pleasures, in which we tweet tweets, and post posts re ego-trips and copyrighted links, videos and things; and, as stray dogs, we ramble randomly, and all the time,   living in our infinite worlds, of infinite lanes, till infinity; yet we suffer so much pain. Our Shih Tzus take us on extended walks, firmly leashed to our Koss plugs, as we drone cool tunes on multihued iPods, iPhones buzzing ringtones of tittering babies, stolid kings and hyperactive frogs, which would all make my eighty-six year old dad want to gag; we fly ultralight megaplanes at the sonic sound of speed, through virtual and real space, connecting dots at low- cost prices, while we belt-up, gear-up, gulp Gaga and gorge heat-inducted meals of deer, horse and over- promoted crap; and then, wow surprisingly, we are all so unsatisfied. We consciously all move-in together, and **** on end, like statistical sheep, pre-married, unloving, and broken up, and justify it all, to ourselves, with our fully stretched spandex morality, over low-carb brunches @Starbucks, two 14” screens of separation; we paint pornographic images of virgins, all called Mary, in the name of art, and, white-clad, **** babes and alter-boys, and penetrate each other, first with our fingers, deeply, then superficially, without even wondering, for a zeptosecond, why we can’t stand one another any longer. We crank-up dependencies, like high street mainliners, shamming and slaughtering for neurotoxic fixes of smileys and Crystal on billion-dollar Kogo yachts, while we all just pedal on, dispassionately, down and over interior canals, to the core of our hocked, abbrev lives, chronically connected and severely distracted, in aromatic polymer bubbles, heedlessly cruising through comic-strip farms of mock vegetables, surely to nowhere and towards no one; and quite frankly, the world laughs at all this, and sobs, and so do I.
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u got me waiting blue eyed dreamer girl like eating dreams we on an ultralight beam and evenings are gold you got to know i haven't always felt like this heaven's got dawn streets laced with honey-faith and sunlight texture grace my feet and i **** with that just with your friends and your blue eyes ****
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May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 8:07 PM UTC
fml lol
the sound from the 00s in my mind the dream I had when I left my past behind and used my hands to write those lines you see the frown on my face wrinkle to great rhymes kinda what dr dre did on the chronic i did mine in these days you see i am iconic I WORKED PUT IN MY SOUL TO THIS NONE OF YOU SAW ME COMING ALL YOU SAW WAS ME CUMING AND NOW YOU TRYIN NA DIS? Now I am only making the highlights shining with the stars ULTRALIGHT I am in the sun watch out for my BEAM ONCE I WAS 17 years Old But Now I am in the Limelight cos I rhyme Tight.
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Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 1:15 PM UTC
Ultralight Beam
i touch my soul and release the ON switch. The darkness beckons like an aborted child full of possibilities never explored. Potential never reached. Heights never teached. Things never speeched. But life goes on thrashing like a rude animal, desperately devouring all in its path with no end in sight, and no table manners. Trembling slowly, my hand reaches into the abyss for a drop of light to comfort my flickering life force. The only channel of hope that now rushes with the ferocity of a dying turtle, with no home to speak of. TICK TOCK, click clack, the only sounds that remind me that reality never shuts off. Where’s the remote? It was never invented. My shadows play dead to my consciousness, never there to teach me my concrete lessons. So I scratch my bed stings, reminders of my past, itches of my present, and marks  in my future. The fade to black is my only resolution. The gavel sounds and I pinch myself, hoping it’s a dream, no it’s just a scheme, ultralight beam? The ticks turn into Morse code. Translation? Start over.
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
Flashback
you say you never gave me aught. i find this funny, because you gave me confidence before you gave me heartache, but both of them you gave to me. i try not to sit and wonder what if? what if i was there for you when you were at your worst? would you really have loved me? nothing but late night whispers as misterwives covers that song about wendy. wendy grows old, her window will close, and peter will still never grow up. ready, set, stop. we don't go anywhere, although i'd love to go everywhere there is with you. i'll be a mermaid- my hair will be wet, my soul soaked in misadventure. i'll let you duck my head under for as long as you want, and if it kills me in the process, you can swallow these jelly beans whole. my jelly bean soul will be with your gummy bear heart, and it will be pretty. your smile is so bright it glows in the dark- i wonder where it's gone? this ultralight beam is carrying me home. home away from home. home away from the heartache, and away from all of the things i lost when i thought i was in love with you. i lost a part of myself. it's still over where you are. singing songs i want to forget. i've been spinning like a record, seeing you in the city, in the red of stoplights. i once said i'd wait for you there but i'd rather float face down in the water.
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Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 11:01 AM UTC
ophelia (of late night whispers and jelly beans)
On the way home, there are paths disguised as mountains Arches of light to climb Fragments of color, scattered bread crumbs, to lead the way This is your journey home Embrace Divine light, the pieces of your soul Illuminated by the joyful tears of your guardian angels and ultralight beams, you are on the right path when you see me Your journey home is not as hard as it may seem, the end isn't clear to you just as the gold's sheen comes second to your soul the only illusion are the mountains in the distance whom are few and far apart So with every milestone of your life, be sure to look into the skies and see which color of your next chapter shines
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Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
Falling Mountains (with Kathrine Donahue)
CONSISTENT CONTRADICTION I'm a perfectly consistent contradiction. I'm oiled by tons of lightweight friction.I'm spending my time with no time to spare; while suffocatin' on all the fresh air. I'm slurrin' my speech with perfect diction, while truthfully expressing science fiction. There's not a lot more that I can say, so I won't take long; just forever and a day. My past draws ever closer as my future fades away. I'll see you in Hell but have a nice day. I have ultralight opinions that hold lots of weight; can't draw worth a **** as I'll illustrate. You may think I'm on your doorstep, but I'm a hundred miles away. See you in Hell but have a nice day. I don't know why you're so insistent that I have to be perfectly consistent. Can't you see that I'm doin' OK? See you in Hell but have a nice day. I gotta comatose brain that won't slow down; a friendly warm smile that's sprinkled with a frown. My mind is racin' 'bout a mile a minute. Get out of my life cause I need you in it. I'll take Mastercard or Visa but you don't gotta pay. See you in Hell but have a nice day. Consistency is overrated, and lunacy is unappreciated. Every corner of my coaster has got one roller. I've gone clinically sane, while being bipolar. I'm as short as Paul Bunyan and tall as Tom Thumb;a cross between Einstein and Dumber and Dumb. I'll wish you a Merry New Year in the middle of May ,and I'll see you in Hell but have a nice day!
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Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 8:48 PM UTC
Consistent Contradiction