"undirected" poems
The Sounding Foam of Primal Things
*(The title and the poem, taken from and inspired by
Carl Sandburg's "Who Am I?")
wind and rain pound the surf.
snow falls on the beach, on the shore.
man-observer cannot tell:
has the earth gone mad, all wet?
do the seas rise, whipped up, filling the heavens,
or does the white rain replenishes the very body,
from whence it came, and now returns?
this matters greatly, yet nothing answers this, his question.
the furious soundings, the green foam churn,
the silence of no response inebriates,
drunk on the tempest's hard wet liquor,
weighed down, sodden with the despair,
solitude, silence, absent answers,
his natural walking companions!
No Stopping signs on almost every corner,
Do Not Pass, Do Not Enter,
One Way, Two Way, No Thru Passage,
but the one sign he seeks,
"Stay On The Path" absent.
Eluded,
dispassionate endings,
the essential quietude among
furious surround-sounds of creative destruction
he ceases to ask, for unanswered, undirected.
Concluded,
either
their is no one listening, or,
there is no one caring, or,
Deluded,
illusion is truth,
he is an illusion.
------------------
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
these two hands, small, stubby,
nonetheless,
invite you to come aboard,
all, the unselected
all, the unprotected
the pretenders, outsiders,
hallway cool, self-collected,
girls who wear dresses,
boys who write in diaries,
Camus, Sartre hangers-on,
never-removed sunglasses wearers,
24/7
trip time,
comb your eyes,
system cleansing,
you, self-affected,
you, self-selected
you,
step away from the gallows,
get down from the scaffold
come to, for you, to get collected,
the unaffected,
the undirected,
road trip to the unexpected,
place where the disconnection is
disconnected,
where the unexpected, that's you,
expected
I know you well
I know you all
you are my desirables,
my touched untouchables,
wilderness voices,
no longer crying,
bound for greatness
from hands to pockets,
my chosen ones,
now my protected
No more unhappy birthday parties
that no one comes too
no need to pretend, sell love,
to the takers of advantage,
now on you breathe in an atmosphere
I've collected,
100% exhaled relief breaths,
purelled oxygen, fresh start air
no more disaffected,
now fuel injected,
now that you are
in and among the
touched, carried,
the affected,
the every poem read...
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 2:03 AM UTC
the pyre of my soul
incinerates my interior
as I watch our flames burn
relentlessly from my lips
like the words that removed
love from around my heart
who would have believed
your whispers would burn
like the sun; singeing my
entirety with venomous
blisters flung with displeasure
bafflement sears...
there's no more emotions,
forgiveness is shamefaced
a misdirection of affections
your misunderstanding
leaves me naked in this
moment, heated in affront
this second fore, nothing
matters anymore
inner abashed turmoil...
roils like a cauldron upon
a campfire, its embered particles
I breathe and ingest for naught
in whimpering gasps
wanting to desecrate that
smirk rising upon your
handsome features; a look
I once found to be endearing
once in awhile
that you took away, too...
your total disdain; dousing
our flame of eternal love of
all that beheld us in God's
light; which, now leaves me
awash in bile, dazed, open-mouth
stares from dimming eyes
is all that looks upon my beauty
with such pain; makes me want
to scream, take me
want me, love me as once
before
re-ignite our flame...
those thoughtful embers are
undirected words drenched upon
an uncaring mind, directing
my soul and heart towards
the moon and the burn of stars
that light up the sky of my
heart and mind as if I could
have altered the course
of your bitterness, until
I can no longer sigh in want
of your love
thoughts of me gone asunder...
filling my lungs with silent
animosity towards all that you
stand for, my only want now
is for you to stay away from me,
allowing me to live in solitude
inside the hunger that pours
like stinging tears from my eyes,
let me be without changing
the sound of love still singing
within my heart
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 3:22 AM UTC
My preferred pose,
This undirected elegance,
Does it even matter to you?
Who caged me in.
Blurred by taste,
Seized by touch,
Now you look my way,
Wishing to turn, escape,
Captured.
Falling,
Again & again,
You who does not love me,
Yet locks me away,
Unlock me, unlock me,
But it's me whose got the key...
They say.
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 1:26 PM UTC
It is one in the morning,
My eyes open,
It never fails.
No amount of cotton clouds
Or sheep to count
Can send me back to dreams
Yet to be dreamed.
Nothing else can make me drift,
For I am now wide awake.
Down the stairs I quietly walk
Careful not to waken the others,
Lest they stir from their ongoing snore-y visions.
Straight to the kitchen, I tiptoe,
Make myself a mug of hot, hot coffee,
So I could start
reading,
Taking in a mixture of
Glorious, mad,
Magical, loving,
Happy, groping,
Sad, vengeful moments....
But internalizing all these emotions
Takes its toll...
I stop: it is time to write of
My own moments of glory...
Which incidentally,
Rhymes with...momentary,
Poetry, dignity,
Love-ly, friend-ly,
Complexity, celebrity,
I could go on and on...and
There is only one...
One exceptional moment
That comes to my mind:
One unforgettable, bittersweet autumn...
My mouth, my lips now parted,
My stare, undirected,
Dreaming~~~drifting...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just arrived in Neverlandia!
Swimming through its endless,
Imaginary, intangible seas
Where I am alone
Where I am free
Free, to be with
My intangible one true love
Only there can we hold hands
Only there can our eyes meet
There, where we can stand,
Or sit so close
Breath against breath
Flesh against flesh
No words spoken,
Just eyes talking
No moment wasted,
For no one dare ask or tell the time
In Neverlandia.
~~~~~~~~~~
In such a wondrous journey
I also have acceped:
At the start and even in its midst,
Comes twinges of apprehension
And sadness
That unsettles my heart, my mind,
Thinking outrightly of the
Inevitable end of said journey.
Fleeting, the moments seem,
I must travel back.
~~~~~~~~~~
I ***** for that imaginary switch, and
With a heavy heart,
I turn it off.
~~~~~~~~~~
It is suddenly so cold...
I stretch an arm to reach for
My hot, steaming drink...
Oh, but it has become
A mug of cold, cold coffee!
I border on "mad,"
Lost thoughts now swimming in anger.
Have to chase back my muse,
Refresh my memory
Poem is almost done.
Have to regain
My mind's composure,
Have to ensure
My life's composure.
I need, I need my Panacea
This early morning... yet, I'm
Afraid of that same old question:
"But....where are you?"
~~~~~~~~~~
Sally
Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 2:23 AM UTC
to the thought of you
that motif of you
was like a latent infection
like hives to my face
making me red but breathless
made me realize
got me sensitized
when a new face,
recalled called before
these eyes that came into focus
instead of my eyes clear to you
that was once too far before
repetitive inhibited i’ve become
playing mute like an idiot
like a puppet on the a string
couple with a hand up the rear
faking every smile with a cheer
this isn’t a hate a poem
not lyrics to tic away
the times of regret to rhyme
no, not at all
not seemingly at all
not even partial, somewhat
i needed to make peace
with myself, and my mother
a tangible door that i left
through with the window
wide open, tired, and confused
through a flow that obstructed
with only beams from high school
no foundation to be constructed
I upset her and it was not you
it was the person that gave
the very thought of me to even
conceive to help you, be there for you
i repressed that, i suppressed that
but finally I’m relieved of you
now closer to my parents
that you’ll ever be to yours
it’s the truth, not an insult
i spent all these years
psychoanalyzing a psyche
undirected, ironically
you gave me direction
away, no contention
just signs, and many exits
but i continued to drive
passing opportunities
friends and happy moments
i have internalize this too long
reading into nothing, yes it could have been
but I focused on changing you,
because of you, what you have seen
i’m done, fully relinquished
you probably won’t know, or ever care
or even read this, never took interest
anyways on this craft of mine
only on witchcraft because you never
cared too much on your own faith
again the truth
as I observed, you’ll only come around
from getting broken and surely that was it
but in the end, there was only so much
we can mend the people around us
they have to realize, and yes you made me realize
if the world wasn’t the way it is
the only women i’d call my best friend
wouldn’t have to contend with the contents
of this poetic discourse, because frankly
all this could have been averted
but it was because I’m too good of a person
too nice of a guy, never wanted to play the game
now i’ve mastered it, just been holding on this space
but that was it, it was just space
you dragged the offensive of me
a defensive I have known all along
and kept pensive
it’s just we try to keep
what we can not have
Jul 17, 2010
Jul 17, 2010 at 4:12 PM UTC
sure glad everyone else found someone
i'm sitting in tornadoes of chaos and not making a sound
i’m full of all this undirected yearning which means i’m
full of ******* empty
and what a death-ridden paradox that is
everything seems like a riddle these days
but i’ve lost all energy for solving and its not like
anything could be worth solving when you are not here anyhow
open fields are caging me and i want a release
there are chains around my bare wrists and you need to take them off
where did you go anyway
i’m stumbling along clean swept paths
i’m tripping over nonexistent obstacles
i’m grabbing for a match because i’d rather burn myself
burn it all away so i won’t have to see all the things that aren’t there
namely you
and all the bleeding black that’s left
constant headaches like a companion and i’m begging to be blind
penny for the pained?
someone sit me down and explain the idiosyncratic theory
of why we make people into homes
and why we remember the nightmares but can’t grasp the dreams
where is the warmth to reside within
and why did you leave?
-k.c.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
An orange petal
Pressed against her face
Dew drops stream down
It is morning
But it feels as if night never came
Eyes shut
Waiting to be opened
Sleep ran away
Fear took it’s place
And the orange petal
Still pressed against her face
A soundly tune
Barely heard from the distance
Ears open
But the mind still closed
The earth cries around her
Tears well up
Too much for the ground to bury
But a man still plays
His silhouette dancing
To his song
A blast of color
Frozen in place
Unable to be seen
As the wind whips
In and around her eyes
An outstretched arm
Flapping, flailing, searching
Undirected
But wind whisks color away
All is calm
Black and white
Finally able to stand
She walks the lonesome halls
Around every tree
Every bush
Nothing moved
Nothing found
It is forever morning
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 2:21 AM UTC
Wasting time with legs
Crossed on his lap
Poking fun
Work's not done
But does it really matter?
The hours stolen by
Jokes and tangents
Of politics, thoughts
And made-up words
That paint these
Undirected times
With life
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 1:18 PM UTC
When you find peace in my arms,
Deny chance.
I craddled seedlings to the table
By weeding.
I made undirected costume changes
And revealed a mask beneath skin.
I opened doors for children and the aged.
I played, and sang along.
When you find comfort in my arms,
Deny luck.
I helped lift the disenfranchised,
Extended deadlines,
And refused entitlements.
Causes wore away my soles
Carrying loved ones both ways.
We buried hatchets between friends.
When you find love in my arms,
Deny coincidence.
I learned from teachers
Love is manifest in sacrificess
Wrapped with obligation.
My arms are tired,
Yet I will embrace all.
And thus, I caress you.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
Come hither to see
What lies lie in our humanity
What dissonance
Carries us
Dissolving into confusion
Resolving all of our angers
And rage unbecoming
Misdirected
Undirected
Unperfected
Wounding strangers
As well as loved ones
Come forth and bare the brunt
Of our burning destruction
I have known ignorance’s lashes
By those unnamed *****
Who claim control of the masses
Come here to see me
Invested with all the potential of our species
With hope well met
Even when hope failed itself
I milked the moment
And beg thee to see me
With all and none of my humility
Naked
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC
They told me to start anywhere. This seems as good as any.
I hadn't talked to you for four days. You text me ever night, letting me know you were at your moms, you'd be sleeping here again. I figured I'd give you some space, but after two days of that I was planning on stopping over. I came home after work and noticed that you'd been by during the day. Your clothes were shuffled; one of the drawers was even left open, like you'd left in a hurry. Your toothbrush was gone.
Figures that when you finally come home, I'm in the bathroom.
It's been hours since you left and my head is still a mess. As I bend down to wipe the blood from the ground, I can still hear you say "It's probably better this way."
As I lay down, I know I'll find no solace in sleep. You told me I'd brought this on myself. You're right. But I'd burn this entire city to the ground if it'd bring a light to your eye. "Just one more chance," I muttered, "with what I know now."
I stare at the ceiling and a fire burns my heart. I bite my tongue until blood fills up my mouth. I'm counting "5, 4, 3, 2, 1...". I'm remembering how to breathe. We speak of everything, except what it's really about. As you left, I screamed "I hate you!" But what I really meant was "I love you! I'm sorry! Please, don't leave!"
I must have gotten up when I was asleep. I'd never been a sleepwalker before. But that apartment building didn't burn down undirected; that fire didn't start itself.
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
Smiles undirected
no firmed target
myself expected
jealous jumpstarted
In most cases
I'd of assumed
you'd of switched faces
your heart entombed
Yet it stayed
icy but warm
smile frayed
but no love'd born
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 9:27 AM UTC
I look up at the stars and see nothing but death,
disappearing one by one with each passing breath.
A cosmic understanding between the sun and the sky,
whispers upon whispers of where you'll go when you die.
An uneven score settled in desperation,
an epitaph eternal without citation.
Building brick over brick, a crime unseen,
heaven threatening to burst at the seams.
We'll be joined together in a scene undirected,
letting go of what makes us feel protected.
A tidal wave could take us out, wash me away,
but it could never leave me with nothing to say.
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 5:55 PM UTC
To understand alone
is to be a reckless observer,
a sea faring adventurer
on a leaky boat
that floats
across the cosmos.
It is to be a materialist
who claims to be spiritual,
seeing specters
in his reflection
not in the natural world.
It is to be well trained
in the art of
escaping the trappings
of temporary love,
wrapping oneself up in
sweet affections
which you know
can be so easily discarded.
It is driving undirected,
Impulsive,
Obsessive,
the searching
for something
you have never seen
and in the finding
knowing there is
so much more to learn.
It is nihilistic, fatalistic,
franticly selfish
even in the most
unselfish acts.
In the end
it is the loneliest
journey into oblivion.
Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 5:34 PM UTC
How irresistible is the tune that you leaving plays
When you squeeze my hand through the car window and beg for me to stay
There's so much more I want to do, and so much more to say
But I'll watch your sad smile stain the mirrors as I drive away
I can't articulate like I want to
But to be honest, I wish you knew
Just how beautifully I still speak about you
How lovely were the days when I would float into your mind
And I would wander undirected through the freckles in your eyes
You'd draw a maze of constellations with your hand along my thigh
And get me lost in your limbs on a cold night in July
I paint this pretty picture of you thats engraved inside his head
So every night, he lies awake before he goes to bed
And pictures how wonderful you must have to be
To have someone as quiet and gray as me
Dancing in the flow of your exhales and thinking about your touch
It's too much
But somehow never quite enough
I miss you and your taste on my lips
And I am about to overthink myself sick
Because I am still more than willing to spill myself into the thick of it
with you
We can lay on your porch like we used to
And talk about the sky and space and I'll give your hand a final squeeze,
While I twirl the grass with my fingers and talk drivel to the breeze,
"What a pity
To be a man
Foolish enough to miss out on me":
If you stopped and asked me to stay again
I would if I knew
That all these years later
I have missed out on you
Oct 25, 2022
Oct 25, 2022 at 9:35 PM UTC
Undirected.
Redirected.
Rerouted.
New direction.
Same destination?
How far to Nirvana?
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 4:13 PM UTC
There's no promise for you
My black man
Feels like my life is ****
Through black sand
Undirected and unprotected
Yet selected
I feel rythm through words
Sending my song up high through birds
You see the sensation
Yea my proclamation
To give you information
Stop wasting in the basin
Listen girl
I don't wanna stress you
I just wanna learn
And undress you
So know that this is tangible
Giving you time that's mangable
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
How old are you now
and do you know how
you survived?
The grenade I threw
never blew me away,
self
inflicted undirected
and as I suspected
a dud.
This must be Karma,
or Kismet,
do I get a prize now?
how to survive
in a hostile
environment?
bent cops on the make
hoods on the take,
for Christ and his sake
I'd better learn soon
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 5:23 PM UTC
The sense of an undirected gaze,
sincerely removed from the air
by a willing, polished chassis,
stirs the battery soul of a governed look;
budge upon budge, dam upon dam,
wrath compounding over the wrath of starved formulae,
ribbon-sent, shocked to bonus pay.
Terrible the blemish,
terrible the potato-skinned impulse,
the labor, the pen, the dragon-light torch
meant to replace the tri-pronged street lamp,
and to light the robbery in progress near MG Road.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 1:18 PM UTC