"undistracted" poems
As the water hit my back
The sun hit her face
It had been a long night,
The dawn was quiet
We showered together
After our passionate morning
And she washed my hair
And I drank my beer
We were undistracted
I wanted to say I love you too
But I could not ruin the moment
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 6:43 PM UTC
I am only pretty when I'm naked.
I did not give you permission to **** me inside of your head.
Please get your imaginative hands off of my unobtainable soul,
and close your mouth,
you're drooling like a coward when he sees something that he cannot have.
I belong to no one but myself.
I am old enough to know the rights of my body.
I am only pretty when I'm naked.
Stop recording every moment we will never have with your undistracted eyes.
I did not ask for this,
I am covered in clothes that do not accent the curvature of my frame and yet still you gawk,
and I will be asked what I was wearing that night.
I was wearing my right to say no,
but to him I was wearing my inferiority.
I am only pretty when I'm naked.
I am a female powerhouse.
I am competent with my tongue in many ways yet you ache to abuse it.
I am inclined to tell you what is best for me, but I am a woman.
And I know nothing.
You will beat it into me until I actually know something so well that I choke on it.
I am only pretty when I'm naked.
I am incapable of loving because, to you, I am not justified,
so you will show me how until I cannot breathe any longer.
The bruises and scars will taint my porcelain skin like mud on brand new sneakers,
except the black, blue, and crimson cannot be rinsed from my body
as easily as my clothes were removed by you.
I am only pretty when I'm dead.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
How silent is the mountain
It Stood there then
It Stood there now
It Stood there still
unmoved.. undisturbed.. Undistracted
Frozen and Cold...
But its there..
Isolated and mysterious
A pin drop silent
surrounds the atmosphere
A roar I heard from nowhere
A ray of sunlight from between the trees
Am I imagining things..
At the peak of Mount Kinabalu i am now standing..
Breathless... I collapsed to the ground
But I am so so proud...
I wish to praise this mountain
For standing still and strong for hundred of years
Never has it changed or moved
Never has it left or dissappeared..
It stood as it is.. loyal as it is..
Attached.. intact To the earth and ground..
Never separated, never let you down..
It is there.. standing there
so strong.. so tough.. so tall..
It is freaking cold.. I am freezing to death..
Chills to the bone..
But i have been so bold..
I have conquered this mountain top
I am never gonna look back..
Its my mountain.. Its yours too..
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 2:19 PM UTC
She played me like a fiddle;
Tuned into my thoughts and dreams,
Read me like an open dictionary;
Knew how to solve the riddle,
And so it seems;
She was nothing revolutionary,
Just another pretty face;
Gone almost without a trace,
Leaving me in wondering;
Sitting and pondering,
How will I ever solve this puzzle;
But I must return to my hustle,
What keeps me grounded;
While all others are dumbfounded,
I keep my head clear;
Undistracted unable to hear,
The melodious song of those sirens;
Beautiful and enchanting; oh how it lightens,
The spirit and mind;
Leading many astray,
Their purpose behind;
And as they break though the fray,
They all crash and burn;
For all this I refuse to take a turn...
© okpoet
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 10:14 AM UTC
My beloveds,
Please stop seeking me out
in the eyes of every stranger whose form you find appealing
In every evening’s masquerade, serenaded by dime store boom boom playing through bar room speakers
Release the idea that I’m somehow hiding inside of the lover to whom you’ve chained yourself, just waiting for you to release me from a hidden tower
I’m not.
It breaks my heart to watch your aimless searching, pressing up against writhing bodies, then torturing yourself with the notion that you somehow had the one that got away
You didn’t.
Forgive yourself the notion that your sole purpose in this lifetime is to seek someone with whom to share it as it only leaves you searching in places that I simply can not be found.
I am not the destination, I am the journey.
I am not the answer, I am the question.
I will not find you the moment that you stop looking for me.
I will find you the moment that you find yourself,
Somewhere along the path that leads you to who you might become
should you begin to walk it
You seem to think that somehow we are playing hide and go seek,
and that I am right behind the chair, eternally eluding you
But the truth is I am somewhere down the path between where you started and your potential, while you’ve not even left the living room
You did not come here seeking love.
You are love and you came here seeking answers.
Please start asking the questions.
Who are you?
What do you want?
Why are you here?
Why did you come?
What might you become should you decide to become it?
You, the all powerful, that came to human form, born into the maelstrom to learn, to teach, to be,
and yes, even to love,
though you knew that you would suffer,
You have forgotten who you are and why you came
Brave one, made of light,
you don’t need to look any further to find me.
You are me and I am you.
And once you’ve left this form
you will again remember that you are love and light
and have never and will never be alone.
But, if only you could wake up while you’re still here,
then yes, you could change the world.
You would bend the universe.
And that which you are looking for would find you,
undistracted, unrestrained, and beautiful,
at which point I will slip my hand into yours
and then you won’t remember a moment before I arrived.
Please stop seeking me out in the eyes of every stranger whose form you find appealing
Your life is calling.
Please pick it up.
You’ll find me on the other end of the line.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 1:46 AM UTC
Each day is
as a procession of
redundant clopping
on the ground
rhythmic sounds
that anesthetize,
mesmerize
have we become blinkered
along this trail
through life
like a steed in harness
undistracted by
glimpses of
clouds of hate
along the horizons
or seething storms
blowing in from the seas
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 9:49 AM UTC
She played me like a fiddle
Tuned into my thoughts and dreams,
Read me like an open dictionary
Knew how to solve the riddle,
And so it seems;
She was nothing revolutionary,
Just another pretty face
Gone almost without a trace,
Leaving me in wondering
Sitting and pondering,
How will I ever solve this puzzle?
But I must return to my hustle,
What keeps me grounded
While all others are dumbfounded,
I keep my head clear
Undistracted unable to hear,
The melodious song of those sirens
Beautiful and enchanting; oh how it lightens,
The spirit and mind
Leading many astray,
Their purpose behind
And as they break though the fray,
They all crash and burn
For all this I refuse to take a turn...
© okpoet
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 3:10 AM UTC
All I want is one day
Where my veins don't itch below the skin
Where I don't crave the bites
All I want is one day
Where I don't have to think about it
If only so I could clear the hair from my skin without temptation
All I want is one day
Where I don't have to fight with myself through every moment
To indulge in life's simple pleasures with an undistracted mind
All I want is one day
Where the spiders don't crawl beneath my skin
And I cease searching for scars that have since faded
All I want is one day
But I would take an hour-
Or even a minute...
Simply to be free of the spiderwebs that splay across my skin.
Jan 8, 2020
Jan 8, 2020 at 12:33 AM UTC
In my mind
Seeing you was the perfect form of communication.
To watch the expression of depth.
Every wrinkle that crinkles the side of your nose.
The sentiment grown from standing so close.
Eyes grown in anticipation.
Every depth expressed.
Explored until we're tired.
In my mind
seeing you was the perfect form of communication.
It's only so much to do behind the screens of phones.
The customization of emojis plastered on blank screen.
A temporary thrill that we enact before actual contact.
In my mind we restrict too much of ourselves with the press of a button.
Cheeks spread loose, folds undistracted by the moment where we ourselves are drawn to life
By what we anticipate most.
Without need to talk as much as we can before an abrupt end.
To consider you without call waiting or the awkward feeling of having to call you back.
Malicious moments before the call actually goes through
The introduction of physical smile.
Separately from the window of a phone
Leaving more room for availability
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
he spent four weeks
away from his family
in a rented apartment
somewhere on
the outskirts
of town
he told them that
he needed this
he was a writer
needed to focus on his work
conducting his research
undistracted
his little girl would call
from time to time
asking daddy to hold his
phone against his forehead
while she made a kissing sound
on the other line
very wholesome
except he lied about
holding the phone
against his forehead
“How can you be
such a monster?”
asked the naked **********
sitting on the edge of his bed
“Shut up,” he said
tossed his phone on the desk
and unbuckled
Jun 16, 2021
Jun 16, 2021 at 4:17 PM UTC
12am
All these crazy thoughts,
Present through the day, just undistracted right now
And I hear you breathe, sleeping next to me,
And everything is okay
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 3:39 AM UTC
do you ever think about how easy it would be
to pack a bag with the moon still bright in the sky and
begin to drive?
it’s scary how much of life is taken for granted before you begin to realize how precious it is, how fast it goes. by the time i even grasped that i needed to figure out what i wanted to do with my life i was bring tossed onto the conveyor belt straight out of high school.
my identity was still unknown and here i was now, deciding the rest of it.
there’s a loneliness in freedom,
a creeping feeling of sadness that hides
in the corners of solitude and quiet.
It envelopes the corners of the mind
left undistracted, ideas wander
doubt sets in your head, anxiety in your gut
is this not what you asked for?
for ties to be cut?
did you not suspect the hurt and pain it might bring up?
and yet, like a stretch after a long nap,
relief from the strains that once held you
forward, alone
but maybe it’ll be okay.
Dec 9, 2020
Dec 9, 2020 at 11:30 AM UTC
The blind man too,
enjoys birdsong, sun on his face,
pungent scents of spice, the
perfume of flowers.
Even the flute pipes sweeter when
undistracted.
In solitary silence
taste the freshly peeled orange,
enjoy the citrus spray,
remember this spaceless,
pin-wheeling sensation.
Savor the memory of
of morning gold rush,
summer blues in lazy sky,
rose and amber dusk falling,
nights when the moon hung so low
light brushed your cheek with slumber
and you saw heaven through the eyes of a dream.
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 11:43 AM UTC