"unconceived" poems
Studying the 'Base', 'Hypotenuse', and 'Height'
of a triangle,
My mind recalls what I witnessed in
that sensual night,
You were like an unconceived mathematical notion,
I a novice in geometry trying to draw a straight line
Of kisses on your shivering body,
How fragile those attempts were,
How lovely to see them fail,
Lying idle on the bed like a base of a building
I lured you to stood high above me,
And your hands pressing my chest as a ladder,
We're affixed like a right-angled triangle
Dizzy, and drunk exploring our area of love.
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 1:50 PM UTC
my heart is not a game
it is as serious as life can be
and though it can laugh
it will not compete for love
nor will it wander aimlessly
the reflection of a distant pond
but its light knows the dark
it is unafraid to be alone
a newborn knows no one
nor the hole a ***** will part
it remembers the past
and how it once did love
but that is a movie now
with characters so young
and futures unconceived of
tell me how it can be
are you right, will I be free;
free to live my purpose
then to find you waiting there
to love what is inside of me
do not try to play my heart
though it is an instrument
hear the music it makes
believe in the faith of sound
to you, it has already been sent
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 4:55 PM UTC
Day one,
and there was light.
A path out of chaos.
A radiant beam of hope.
I opened my eyes to the unconceived.
A fiery hand
touched my palm,
leading me to unknown paths.
Ninth hour of the morning!
I was born in the sea.
I am unvisible, unseen.
Plankton they call me.
Chance met shells
and anemones my companions.
I played with the sand,
was one with the waves,
sipped at oxygen and salt.
The Eternal God told me:
"Before night comes you will have become food".
I didn't unedrstand it.
I was afraid
"You are unfinite.
You will be reborn in the morning".
This reassured me.
But who can wait for the morrow?
I saw a glowing star.
It slipped to the horizon.
"That must be my soul
ready to take flight.
The Moon laughed at me with bitterness.
"I' m sorry for that".
Weeping,
I drifted into the redeeming arms of sleep
Day two.
Morning.
Death spat me into the bowels of a great whale.
It is called "Leviathan".
I am reborn.
"I inhabit a green seaweed.
It tickles my body and I arise".
I saw the light which transpierced me.
Creation is a cycle.
Creation in its cycle engenders All.
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 7:35 AM UTC
Wrest my head from this,
a twinge as illusive as pins.
Rake the bottom lore,
as off the mark as 'sins'.
I'm neither lessened
nor strengthened,
I reek of applemore and soot.
I draw and I leave unconceived.
I grow without practice.
I denote without lye.
I smile hopeless, with gladdened reprieve.
My pallbearer whistles,
and thinks of my joke.
I painted enough. He believes.
Turn tears now to grinning,
as I've learned the unbluff.
May I end this long night with a seed.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 7:35 AM UTC
So many ideas you have conceived
Either at work or leisure,
But you have not perceived, the idea of me.
I am the idea, unconceived, the idea of anti reason,
Upheaval-tumaltuous and juxtaposition.
I will break the old piece by piece
and create the new step by step, bit by bit.
i will stop the working of the logic and the reason,
with all the justification.
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 2:27 PM UTC
bold and assiduous like a young hip
our glowing silence tears the air
the unconceived truth of blood
you wander around my chest as if in a
procession towards the delirium of spring
my wrists have no dream to hide
the eyes confess: falling skies are crushing
stone by stone the world in which you didn't exist
my body buried in light
an orderless language, the rest is details
Mar 8, 2023
Mar 8, 2023 at 6:53 AM UTC
There once came a tale that didn’t want to be told.
It shuddered in the light of the voices decrepit and old,
That tried to conjure it at the peripheries of its boundaries.
But it fought back lingering in its formation in the foundries.
It would not be cast so easily like metal,
It would not be set so willingly in stone,
It would float on the tip of the tongue a fragranced petal,
It would bounce on the edge of the mind an ineffable tone.
Never drifting too close to anyone’s ear,
It remained in the distance away from the sages and scribes,
Always aware of its greatest fear,
To be misinterpreted by the way a human describes.
For who in all of creation has the ability to tell a story such as this?
With all the glory and irreverence so subtly intertwined,
The colour so luminous, and texture beating with bliss,
With no earthly writer could this yarn be aligned.
The muses who birthed this defiant prose did weep,
When they saw their child miss its chance for eternity again and again,
They beseeched their progeny to take the leap,
But over and over it would say no and cause them such pain.
And in the absence of this story the world fell in disarray,
Chaos ran wild and fear grew rife,
Without the stories guidance, the part it was supposed to play,
Soon it came to the end of its life.
For the humans had lost their ability to imagine such a story,
And it was lost in obscurity, unconceived glory.
It was then it saw the errors of its foolish way,
It tried to enter their thoughts but could never stay.
It was now far too late,
It had created its fate.
And everything turned grim, in a darksome pit
When it realised no one would remember it.
And the moral of the story is this,
Take this token a gentle kiss.
Play your part and play it bold,
Let your story be one that’s told.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC
I'm a sanitary towel
soaking up unconceived
wording.
You bleed them heavily,
the smell of copper
syllables
Haemorrhaging upon me
saturating deeply I'm
used.
Throw away like it wasn't
personal, but I'm now a sentence
completed.
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 4:19 PM UTC
Woman
After the Fact
Unknown
Each Day
Picking the Lock
Of An Unconceived Friendship
With a Key
Of Hidden Unwelcome
Stranger
To All
But The Eyes
Of True Intention
You Left Your Arrows
In the Body
Of My Friend
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 4:47 AM UTC
Why do people judge your name
already?
You haven't even taken a breath yet.
You haven't even another half to you
yet.
Your name is one of beauty,
one that shows strength.
It's like a jewel,
full of beauty, elegance, and
strength.
Your name is after the one who
fought and defeated my villains.
It's after the one who stood by me
when I stood alone on the sheet of
ice
floating atop the melting sea.
I used to hate your name,
but the one it's after changed it all
for me.
The one of the name gave me hope,
and I have hope for you.
Judgment is not necessary
for a name of a child unborn,
unconceived, unfathered.
A name is a name,
each with its own purpose,
its own story.
Your name is one dear to me,
a story I tell a whole lot,
one whose purpose is to give
hope.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 6:24 PM UTC
my poor heart just skipped a beat
when i saw my tidleywinks at me
the hot minute i opened up the box
that's the look this young kid got
poured out in colors, bright and bold
with hidden secrets yet untold
well, add another to the list
just in case you've yet to guess
the wild, the weird, the unconceived
the day my tidleywinks at me
Dec 8, 2024
Dec 8, 2024 at 4:24 PM UTC
I wrestle with her song
like a reservoir,
since it mocks the veritable sea.
Its mysteries, unconceived,
she’s robbed of their virginity.
I flew to a galaxy
near the beginning,
and she also found me there
beneath the surface, under the deep air.
Waiting before an impenetrable secret
I couldn’t escape her song,
her Siren song.
Her sweet words
enveloped and bound,
like chords wrapped around me
to tame and name.
An infinite darkness of mind vanished
wordless into the unknowing
womb of creation.
And I, banished to an inner wasteland,
heard a voice of genius singing
a base rhythm to her song.
It was plain and blue.
The words were formless but
rose from the bottom of the world.
I am enchanted by an old song
and an older place,
seeming enemies.
Whether by seduction or
will for words
I will be undone.
I must have both
or be without my song.
Jan 1, 2021
Jan 1, 2021 at 11:22 AM UTC