"uncompromised" poems
We used to be so uncompromised,
Our words didn't have some double meaning,
Something deeming,
That we were more than we were willing to admit.
I could look you in the eyes without that feeling,
Without my thoughts wheeling,
Away from the possibility of having to commit.
You and I were not some cliched affair,
But now we are something I thought I could not bare,
And I fear,
I fear that we have been compromised,
By those double meanings,
Those feelings,
Deeming,
That we are more than we are willing to admit.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 2:59 AM UTC
he wasn’t so much a peddler
(as many had quietly assumed)
more of a rural shuffler
or social inchworm
than a mover and a shaker
but boy
could he dish out those jabs
and ad lib on a whim
and draw sweet melodies
from that broken 6 string
all night long
carving out reflections
oh, those deep intuitive divinations!
steadily preaching
on the breathtaking joys
and fruits
of the vibrant land
*grow your own
seeds to be sown
clean and green
a nourishing machine!*
silver linings (straight from truth room)
clearly seen
from those uncompromised
garden views
casting his baited lines
from softly pebbled shores
(his nanna, and poppa
were there, years before)
giving grace…
and basking deeply
in the bounty of the fenua
his love of life was insatiable
moving from town to town
to nourish his soul
digging way beyond the deep
for that shrouded purpose
that soulful existence
that many spend a lifetime
looking to find
three boats settle
in the quiet harbor
a net shed basking in the sand
peaceful and serene
(with a hint of emerald green)
Sunset red
with crawfish (and lemongrass)
to keep us
bountifully fed
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 4:29 PM UTC
Praise is near
I can see it out of the corner of my eye
It comes with a new dawn
Nothing is built to last
Empires fall and civilizations crumble
All I can do is wash my hands and hope this fight can be won
Through all the sacrifice
It's been a long time coming
The odds are stacked out of favor
But I will push, fearless and uncompromised
This is what all of the writings in the bathroom stalls were philosophizing
It's endured the pain that every soul out there has known
You can feel it as your heart pounds
It lives in the things we can't let go of that we use to fuel our fury
It sleeps in our memories and cringe worthy heartbreaks
You live and learn
From the beginning of time with human kind in the womb
To the end of all being whispering its final words
It guides the ones who refuse to follow the predetermined paths
The ones who never had a chance
It's in all of us, believe it to keep it alive
Never give up in the face of doubt or ignorance
You've made it this far, you've become stronger
Revisit the time when you were knocked down
Forgive all the letdowns and never forget your promise to yourself
That you'll establish your name with every ounce of strength
Strike up the flame that kills every shadow
That glows with unconditional love
That one that creates the passion for life
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
I know where your body lies,
Sunken deep in a pile of sheets
On a bed that doesn’t belong to me,
Sticking to the cotton,
With the honey of another boy’s tongue.
Or you’re in a dimly lit room,
Entangled in a female’s bare legs that aren’t mine,
Urgently whispering a stream of syrup
And your most intimate desires.
In the following moments,
They trigger a series of fireworks.
And the seedy atmosphere
Falls into darkness.
Instead, I take a scalding hot shower,
Replacing the doubt I’ve accumulated
With uncompromised, pink skin.
I bury myself and kiss your lies goodnight.
I tuck them in snugly and hold them close,
Because without your acidic deceptions,
I will face another restless night.
I need as much energy as I can muster,
To endure the strings of false hope,
That will guide me through tomorrow.
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
“Suppliants of the Hearth”
~AESCHYLUS
With suppliant olive branch, to what kinder land could Man return?
Whose cities and earth of brightened water
Olympian lords, ye ancient gods below
Whose end possessed the tomb, though Savior Zeus
Keeps pious souls and yet receives
(respectful in the airy lands of men)
Those suppliants of the Hearth, rehearsed!
Though for the smarmy scorn of ****** men
Before the draught tastes the dregs of waste
Return their ships upon the brothing seas
And wintry stings of hurricanes the braved
Pressed on by lightnings, thunders, cast upon
More wild of winds, by facing life to death
Undo what wrong the law forbids
Cousins of pain who lie in strain upon unwilling beds!
Who shows the faithful witness
Still unknown by natives here
As unexpected to the false
Unknown upon who know and last at length!
Meloncoly more of song than Ionian strings
My heart unused to tears on Nile’s cheek
We gather bloom of sorrow
Anxious friends
Someone in search of strength
As exiles, far away on an empty mist!
Hear then, ancestral gods
And kindly look upon the tears of justice lost
With hating people, nothing left to lawlessness undecreed-
Our union justly met!
Behold the Heavens
Invincible in bulwark
Touring always the lasting weary
Among men, respect of gods!
Now will be done
Traced easy in the Earth
Uncompromised of fortune
And blackness through the hearts of men!
Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 10:47 AM UTC
You were love uncompromised, unadulterated,
You were the purest expression of the drug,
Before I tasted death on my tongue,
And before my heart learned despair,
Before inhibitions and walls were erected
Making love a feat as difficult as trying to go a day without flashbacks of us holding each other as if nothing else had ever made more sense than this moment right here
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
sumatra drips like crocodile tears in
the four-cup *** just half-emptied by nine
big and bought on faith in un-lone-li-ness
drainpipes eroding from her miscalculation
swallowed black and quickly
her white teeth uncompromised so far
her step-by-step morning still clockwork
but when she was eighteen she watched the
cream like squid ink clouds turn it
the color of his summer skin
drinking up the baby hangovers to the
last drop
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
There is transparency in my soul.
A lesser half to my better whole.
A feeling to be absolute, uncompromised by the truth.
You can't take part of me away, what you see is what will stay.
Wear my thoughts on my chest. My heart does not lie in my breast.
A final sanctuary, while In the dark I'm playing pictionary.
Trying to figure this out.
Where i may find myself trying, isn't where I lay dyeing.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 12:15 PM UTC
sigmund freud believed we all carry within ourselves
a suicide impulse, some
strange & counter-evolutionary desire
to return to that moment
of perfect, untainted stillness
before birth.
i don't know if i agree, but
i know enough to know
i want to feel that quiet
instead of the voices
in my head.
you don't need to give me more reasons
to pick myself apart; i never said
i was perfect.
you don't need to point out
the flaws i already hate myself for.
the truth is this: i have found someone
who makes me feel like me again,
who i will expose myself to,
in uncompromised vulnerability,
& who will love every bit of ugly,
who will make me better.
my lungs do not know how to be lungs,
i am becoming bones again,
the scars on my wrists threatening to arise
as fresh again..
i have never once thought myself good enough
& now he is teaching me how to believe
just that. everything else is falling
beneath me; it is all a ball & chain
around my ankles,
while your words rail through me,
bullets giving me just one more reason
to bleed again.
these tears are not for you,
i am not for you,
i am trying to be better,
& please, just let me fight
the urge to seek that silence
without giving me another reason
to throw myself
headlong down
the rabbit
hole.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 2:04 PM UTC
belie the notion that one is complete
uncompromised, unmodified,
in thought and in motion.
as we reenact and memoralialize
ourselves with our past and
our wholesomeness of ego
we walk towards a chasm
of chaotic disruption
put there by our inner consciousness
as we progress we are
filled with trepidation,
avoidance and reticence
our thoughts
sidling around the task at hand
procrastination taking its cold grasp
upon our reasoning
our forward compelling movements
appear unnatural and stilted
as we slowly progress
our inner bearing pretentious
all thought and motion merged into
a lifetime of physical mental torture
a prison of our own making
so who in this blinding darkness
dares to step forward into
the unknown future that we have
woven for ourselves with the strips
of blue and crimson flesh we have flayed from
our own portals entwined
into the tapestry that depicts the epic battle
that we have fought and won over time immeasurable
who will take the double edged sword from
the lady in the lake and strike it once again
into the backbone of our mother
where we will lay cradled against her bosum
till she weans us from her suptle breast
and sends us once again to do her bidding
without our capacity for love
our understanding and compassion are
tools we still have yet to master
May 3, 2010
May 3, 2010 at 8:45 PM UTC
One day I’ll leave this town for good.
No one shall know I’m gone
Till some trespasser on my lawns
Makes sense of the silence,
The piles of newspapers and mail,
The cobwebbed porch and flourishing weeds.
I would be gone and won’t look back.
I shall seek the future:
The road that’s yet to be traveled,
Mistakes yet to be made,
New towns to wake up in, new friends,
All the stories yet to be told.
And nothing would hold me back.
This free spirit will be
The greatest of all my triumphs;
But since nothing would hold me back
This uncompromised freedom
Will be my only regret.
Diptesh Ghosh
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 11:57 AM UTC
Apparently I talk as though
something's missing from your book.
I laugh because I know there's not, yet
I'd be lying if I said that I
hadn't already looked.
When I speak of you my words reveal
none of that which you've become,
I dare not tell them what you mean to me,
nor how you make me feel, once more,
young.
I'm feel as though I'm wobbling from
the sturdiness of your grip.
Unbalanced and uncompromised,
I'm bracing myself to slip
away from you.
I'm waiting for you to leave,
preparing myself to grieve
over your loss. A small voice
attempting to convince that
I never gave a toss for you
at all.
If that voice was right, then I wouldn't feel so small
without you.
You worry me
I haven't felt you attempting to hurry me along,
nor have I felt the need to
long for your affection,
your regular attention shows a surprisingly
full acception and reflection
of myself.
You're lifting me from the shelf of my creation,
my elation dampened simply by surprise
and shock
that the rock I have been clinging to wasn't
such a burden after all.
In fact it became a tool and
rule of our companionship
which I timidly, yet confidently, accept
to be becoming
a relationship.
Welcome to the Mad House.
(I hope you decide to stay)
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 4:42 PM UTC
For nothing ever meant more
Than to gain such praise
Equally idolized in thought and emotion
Such as a straight forward maze
Never fetter as to make yourself known to me
Create yourself shimmering and vibrant
Not that you would go unnoticed
But so my expression never fall silent
Stand for what your excellence is
Your true uncompromised nature
You know just as well as I do
Our expression is crafted as a glacier
I feel your deepest expression
You brought yourself into me
As I more than return such favour
We plant such seed to be such tree
And most late nights it's that
There's nothing else that I could do
But lay awake in an empty bed
My solitary thought could only be you
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 2:59 AM UTC
belie the notion that one is complete
uncompromised, unmodified,
in thought and in motion.
as we reenact and memoralialize
ourselves with our past and
our wholesomeness of ego
we walk towards a chasm
of chaotic disruption
put there by our inner consciousness
as we progress we are
filled with trepidation,
avoidance and reticence
our thoughts
sidling around the task at hand
procrastination taking its cold grasp
upon our reasoning
our forward compelling movements
appear unnatural and stilted
as we slowly progress
our inner bearing pretentious
all thought and motion merged into
a lifetime of physical mental torture
a prison of our own making
so who in this blinding darkness
dares to step forward into
the unknown future that we have
woven for ourselves with the strips
of blue and crimson flesh we have flayed from
our own portals entwined
into the tapestry that depicts the epic battle
that we have fought and won over time immeasurable
who will take the double edged sword from
the lady in the lake and strike it once again
into the backbone of our mother
where we will lay cradled against her bosum
till she weans us from her suptle breast
and sends us once again to do her bidding
without our capacity for love
our understanding and compassion are
tools we still have yet to master
May 3, 2010
May 3, 2010 at 8:46 PM UTC
I made my way to the front.
The invitation was subtle.
The cold gray stones
shifted
cracked
and
chipped
under the pressure of my heels.
Dark
Worn
Splintered
Rails
Drew my hands, ever so familiar.
I pressed up the aged steps
to a door of old wood & character.
Its constitution still intact and uncompromised.
An iron handle, worn smooth from visitors past,
waited for my embrace
and the latch, warm to the touch,
gave way under my eager thumb.
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 3:00 AM UTC
Her speech is soft,
And she withdraws without offending.
A need for privacy, a gated soul.
Watchful, assessing all that one does,
yet not judgmental.
The tenuous connection of the wary,
careful with other humans.
But her compassion enormous,
reserved for the most unfortunate, who
through wretched happenstance
are unable to make their own way.
The sick, the feeble, the troubled,
the emotionally destitute,
somehow find their way to her door,
the unknowable gift by which the needy
intuitively understand human kindness.
A rare generosity,
an uncompromised sense of right and wrong.
A shunned autistic boy befriended,
rescued four-legged friends,
clothing gathered for the poor.
A homeless teen brought to tears by the purchase of a prom dress.
No great wealth, no abundance of resources
waiting to be dispatched at the touch of a screen.
Only a wherewithal borne of an impassioned need to help,
to speak out, maybe to erupt in angry persuasion
to sate an abiding sense that one must do what one can.
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
I finally find myself,
at the lowest of lows.
No litterally...
In the basement,
Sitting in the bottom of the shower.
I keep thinking about colors,
fall colors, hair colors,
I keep asking myself,
why did I change myself.
I was perfect the way I was,
and now its going to take,
a long while to get back
to how I was.
My nose ring feels fake,
My newly died hair feels fake,
and my insides are starting to turn to plastic.
Take it all back!
Take back the die, the pierce,
But that is just one thing about
Lady Time.
She cant be taken back.
She can only move forward,
even if it means,
depression.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
With all its harmonies
And dissonance it plays on,
Never ceasing, never yielding.
One can close his eyes against it
And feel its force, strong and uncompromised.
The sound swells and builds and grows,
Moving mountains, bringing cities to their knees.
It is a scream, echoed in the voices of the people.
With all its harmonies
And dissonance it plays on,
Never ceasing, never yielding.
And then, this incomparable force gives way
To the most frightening sound of all:
Silence.
It all fades away
And all that’s left
Is silence.
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 8:14 AM UTC
I set my sights on Providence.
It was time to escape my American dream.
My country was only recognizable, because of its long standing apathy and cynicism.
X-City. X-Country. You should come too.
I set my sights on Providence.
Look for a new place to welcome me home.
Changing faces, offer glimpses of hope.
X-City. X-Country. You should come too.
I set my sights on Providence.
Because I need to be delivered.
Planting my feet on solid ground uncompromised by the pull of greed.
X-City. X-Country. You should come too.
I set my sights on Providence.
Because I desire to be saved.
I am close to being corrupted.
X-City. X-Country. You should come too.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
I'm walking in the rain.
Hooded head tilted down.
Thinking about the school
And its restrictions on me.
Thinking about how this new girl
May be my new love.
Wondering how I've came
To cutting myself.
There's two places left uncompromised.
At home alone or out and about
Where none can catch me.
Where none will doubt me.
Where I can write my heart out.
Where I can cut (myself) without fear.
Where I can believe in Santa Clause.
Where I can listen without judgement.
Where I can be free without conforming.
Where I can love without hate.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC
Mat 24:6 When reports come in of wars and rumored wars, keep your head and don't panic. This is routine history; this is no sign of the end.
Sleep, precious one
The sheltered oblivion of innocence
Passes quickly
In the revelation of darkness and light
Mat 24:7 Nation will fight nation and ruler fight ruler, over and over. Famines and earthquakes will occur in various places.
But consider the intimate whispered things
The divinity of DNA
I made you to stand unshaken
Uncompromised
Unforsaken, Child I am with you
Mat 24:8 This is nothing compared to what is coming.
The celebration of death
Macabre mutations of sacred and profane
Black and white will blur
And you will cry alone
Over gray shadows of lives
That might have been
Mat 24:9 "They are going to throw you to the wolves and **** you, everyone hating you because you carry my name.
But you have the courage
To stare death down
I am your forever
Each beat of your heart
Remembers my promise
Mat 24:10 And then, going from bad to worse, it will be dog-eat-dog, everyone at each other's throat, everyone hating each other.
Eyes blind they stare
At the mirrored reflections
Unable to recognize
The sanctity of a human life
But you’re not among the walking dead
Mat 24:11 "In the confusion, lying preachers will come forward and deceive a lot of people.
One way, one truth, one life
This mantra whispered
In the cacophony of choice
Residue of lost souls, multiple paths
To a destination of perpetual separation
Just follow me….
Mat 24:12 For many others, the overwhelming spread of evil will do them in--nothing left of their love but a mound of ashes.
The conditional provisions
Bound, gagged and shackled
This was never my way
Mat 24:13 "Staying with it--that's what God requires. Stay with it to the end. You won't be sorry, and you'll be saved.
Sleep precious Child
I will wait for you in your future
When you know its not in the victory
But the struggle
You will find me where I’ve always been
Within
I bring you Peace.
Love
Dad
TL Boehm
www.tlboehm.webs.com
Peace.
(all scripture references taken from the Message Bible paraphrase)
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 1:10 PM UTC
i can’t believe i’d forgotten how
you would talk to me until two, sometimes three
in the morning, nonstop messages
fingers taking flight over the keys,
telling me stories, sometimes just
listening, incessantly
exposing yourself in
uncompromised open wounds.
now, it’s not quite the way it was
now, i tell myself
this doesn’t mean anything.
that we shift & settle
like dust
upon past incarnations
of us, but i miss what you gave me
early in the morning,
filling the space within my chest
that is often
empty, giving me truths &
performing absolutions
for all my past sins.
the truth is, i am no longer
the shiny new toy you are
desperate to play with
every second
of every day
i am the book at your bedside,
measuring my days by
when you turn my pages
& when you don’t
wanting you to devour me
whole
once again.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
and now it might be the night
but my eyes remain open
my sight
uncompromised
anyhow
wow is overrated
when in this life
you've been liberated,
but we've all been separated
from what little truth there is
Sep 9, 2023
Sep 9, 2023 at 4:03 PM UTC