"unreasonably" poems
Sunset grazing the horizon of my day
Where has it gone? My heart in dismay
The beauty escapes from the sides of my eyes
While my heart beats faster and faster
For the anticipation of the missing day.
Of all the things I want to accomplish
None of them done
Would I be content if only I could halt
To see the gratitude I yearn to express
But can’t find a way among all the distress
My chest crawls unreasonably
Watching a beautiful day turning into night
In contrast to my fear of missing out
My hand stutters and I reach for stillness
Although the wants seem so endless.
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 1:17 PM UTC
My pet cat licks my face repeatedly; it feels a bit strange
to jut my jaw forward for a feline to lick and make my face wet.
but as I sit my eyes shut, it feels unreasonably nice, then, it dawns:
she is clicking her LIKES on my real Facebook page
the way she knows best.
Eureka! this is my tender Archimedes moment !
the naked truth, reveals itself before me like Venus
why the crazy craving, without rhyme or reason
for LIKES in Facebook and cyberspace;
now, I understand so well.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
Unreasonably rebellious
Sarcasms at its worst
Selfish inhibition
an angry look with angry words
stuck in a fantasy
Of infatuation uncontrolled
lock your mind away
from this meaningless world
this little sanctuary
where you'll always be loved
turn your back on everything
for what you believe is love
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 2:33 AM UTC
Sooooo maybe I got
Unreasonably angry.
Maybe I got illogically riled.
And maybe I let my childish emotions
Get the better of me
And I ran with them, rampant and free.
How does one find
The balance in life
Of feeling but not feeling too much?
Of not pendulum swinging
From uncontrollable loathing
To indescribable bliss
Or inexorably blithe?
To feel but only to feel enough!
To be but only to be just right!
Never too little and yet not too much!
Finding the balance is every man's plight.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
When I walk through the woods, I enter another world. Everything is in high definition. The breeze occurs in pitches, singing a song for no one in particular. The wind cares not if anyone is listening, for it will blow regardless. Dead leaves, the final victims of the end of winter, crunch underfoot. They care not if anyone walks over them, for they will be crisp either way. It is a warm day, and I find a clearing where the Sun shines just right. I can feel its radiance on every inch of my body. A pleasant pause in the middle of a cold, never-ending winter, today is unreasonably warm. The Sun reaches all the way through me, and melts away the frost which has crystallized over my heart. It feels like magic but I know it is not. The Sun cares not if I bask in it.
It is here that everything exists in perfect harmony. The pine trees, tall and prominent, provide for the tiniest creatures. The puddles, formed from the melting snow, are just as important as the rocks by the shore of the pond. Nothing in nature cares whether it is being acknowledged or appreciated. It just exists. Every day, whether plump raindrops fall from the sky or intricate snowflakes, it exists.
I understand that the woods do not desire a human presence, so I continue walking, leaving as few footprints possible.
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 7:28 AM UTC
There's nothing I resent more
than my unreasonably cold heart.
A Paradox
Able to languidly thaw those around
while selfishly maintaining
it's frozen exterior.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 4:09 PM UTC
what do i need
to get back on my feet?
aha
ha
ha.
first of all
there are no feet
no one
has
feet
and if they did
there would be
no getting back on them.
there is only
crawling
and it is a miserable way
to get around.
what do i need?
i need my hair
to grow back at an unreasonably fast rate.
i need the winter to retreat.
i need the sun in the sky.
i need someone to believe in me
what do i need?
a map.
a bulldozer.
warpaint.
gold.
...and a winning attitude.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 1:25 AM UTC
In disbelief I say to myself and into the mirror,
My whispers are quiet and contain,
Secretly believing your gaze is in sight of mine,
Capturing the muse of the melody of my heart and mind,
Trying to get the attention of the all ,Oh mighty one?
Could you hear the untapped screams I call out to you?
Hear me raw and chew off the fat,
Look what's in front of you,
You unreasonably problematic "IDIOT"
Repulsion is just another habit ,
Slap, Bite, and Kick,
My *** is still in place,
My mouth is where it left off,
Come at me and say it,
Coward of a mice,
Shall I say, *****
A very clever bread of dog I must say,
Applause for learning something new
Everyday.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 3:16 AM UTC
Let me be calm
let me be free
this is not all i am allowed to be
Let me be wild
Let me be proud
It does not mean i am always that loud
Let me be happy, let me be sad, and occasionally let me be unreasonably, and furiously mad,
Let me be Poignant,
let me be deep
Yes i am sheltered, and yes i will leap,
Leap with no fear and leap with such force
because art and purpose will serve its course
I am a vehicle of the soul, and a pardon from god
A label will brand me and cage me and blind me but the labeler’s mind will lose me or find me.
I am so much more than a statistic or name,
So much more than a figure of a body or frame,
So much life,
so much breath, so much thought, so much depth, so much fight, so much light...
So much to learn and so much to know. So much to change, so much to grow,
So here i stand, alone and untamed. I am unarmed and silent and i am never afraid...
So don’t dare decide that i’m something i’m not, don’t dare cast me in your story if you don’t know the plot.
Let me define my own divine path. Your imperfections are teachers and i love you for that.
I know not my purpose,
i know not my goal,
but this is the song of the many sided soul
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
I didn't know you could read lips,
so I laughed unreasonably hard when
people were telling you their ********
excuses for not being able to
donate money to you
and your family for Christmas.
The irony being I gave a stranger a
roll of quarters the other day
because they asked,
and I'm eager to lose all riches and go insane.
Yelled at my girlfriend for the first time yesterday;
she was frustrated that I wasn't frustrated that
she was upset, so
I banged my head against the wall and screamed
"What am I supposed to do?"
Still have the mark somewhere under this free haircut.
I don't get how we all push people away
and beg for them to chase us.
Never give me a word, but always
want me yearning. Not old yet,
but not from lack of trying.
Not wise, but it's not desired.
Fools make kinder people anyways.
Amen to "I'd rather get ****** and keep giving."
Guess you could say I make it rain on those in need,
but please don't. Don't ever say that to anyone.
Write it down somewhere unspecified and
lock it in a drawer, or light it on fire.
Put it through a shredder,
I'll tell you a little secret,
I'll try to tell you a secret;
Most of us are more selfless than Christ.
Merry Christmas in August.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 10:03 AM UTC
Forgive my wallowing in words
my lapse is not light, words are fire,
creative use of them with more care
with out raising a curtain of smoke
and uncontrolled flames, if expected
it's only fair, not to scare you, gentle readers
unreasonably with all the heat
it could generate.
A gentle fire, at night, a golden glow
where you would sit around
and partake my fare is what I dream.
Every word has deep roots, and laughing flowers,
cryptic connecting codes, tunnels
that augment the flows channeled to hearts,
music that connects words, unexpected
fire works of meanings that explode,
metaphors that amble and gallop forward
with spectacular beauty, you watch
without batting an eyelid, that's what brings
clarity, and a gentle ecstasy mind licks up,
and goes to sleep purring in delight.
Signs pointing to the unknown, even unsaid
become evident, like in magic, how it unfolds
how can I say, what's the well spring
of an oracle's revelations, amazing!
Imageries arise along the flow of creation,
evoking, love, pain, hope or remorse-
whatever feeling that invades human psyche,
that demands an immediate emotional response,
and from there leads to catharsis, mind's elation.
Taking you to the forest route of words,
- that blankets and blocks the view
of elegant trees, you love to look at
and to forget everything
for some moments, at least -
was my fault, I was carried away,
yes, I should learn to control my excesses.
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
I'm wrapped in
Black lace.
I can see the world around fuzzy lines and
I can breathe almost
Normally and I can hear
Every whisper like a scream.
But when I try to
Talk the words get
Stuck somewhere between
My throat and my lips.
My tongue is scratching
The fabric.
I'm finally used to
It all
So used to it that when I
Wake up in the morning
I don't even fight
The cloth wrapped around me.
I just roll over against
The wall and look far and wide
To all the things I can't see around
The corners of my eyes.
I can't capture
The things I can't see.
I used to want a Polaroid camera
To pocket every little grain of
World around me and now
All I want to see is the
Subtle darkness of my own
Eyelids.
That darkness used to be
Navy blue but now
It's pure black and when I stare at it
Long enough my mind
Superimposes a white filigree
Outline onto it.
Have you ever listened to
Sad music just to give you
The right to feel sad
Even if it was for the wrong reasons?
Four years ago this week
I found myself staring out
Plate glass windows at
Parked cars
The cold air trickling
Up my hoodie sleeves.
Now I'm staring at
Invisible black lace and
A lot of life lived between
The two vistas
Improvement?
Debatable
Maturity?
Non-negotiable.
My great-grandmother's shawl
Is still hanging in the
Back of my closet but I swear
It's wrapped around my face sometimes
And my old hoodie is
Lying on the floor at
The foot of my bed but I swear
I feel it creeping down my arms sometimes.
I never knew my great-grandmother
But I doubt she was a terribly pleasant person
Judging from the rest
Of my family.
Yet I doubt that any of my long-lost
Relatives ever held as tight a
Chokehold on someone as her
Black lace has on me.
I'm slowly dying inside
And when death catches up
With my physiology
I hope they send my body to the
Funeral home and clear out the
Weeds around the pond
Then have a bonfire
Of my notebooks and clothes in the
Back field some unreasonably
Lovely summer evening.
And I hope they burn that
******* black lace with it.
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 2:22 PM UTC
Oh,woman! My lady!
Sobbed Adam groaned
Eve sobbed and sighed
The sins of disobedience
Since then,with sobs,sighs
Resonate unreasonably
Around me,man!woman!
O!Lord!unload,the load.
Dec 14, 2011
Dec 14, 2011 at 10:06 AM UTC
when I was little
my dad and mom
they expected me
to turn out
just like them;
exactly
like dad and mom
and indeed I turned out to be
as my dad and mom
Oh when I went to school
I expected classmates
to be appropriately like me
but they turned out
unexpectedly, unreasonably
like what they’d be
Oh I was shocked
and asked my parents why
the world was so deviant
and, in their received wisdom, they said:
“It’s an imperfect world
out there
What can you expect
from impure persons?”
When I went to work
and met many strangers
I knew straightaway
why they were called strangers
For their ways were indeed strange
and instead of being like me
they each turned out
like they’d be…
Then I got married
and my wife
turned out like what
I’d expected her to be
exactly like me
and we brought up our children
to be like me
But when they grew up
I was shocked to find
they were like strangers
and I asked my wife
if indeed they were my children
And so I thought I’d go on a tour
and I went to England and America
and I went to Russia and China and India
and Down Under
and I crossed from East to West and North to South
and I went to Mexico and in disguise to many nations
and everywhere I was shocked to find
none were like me
And I was reminded of my dad’s words, my mom’s words:
“It’s an imperfect world
out there
What can you expect
from impure persons?”
And so I came home
and found my wife too had changed
and she was no longer like me
and I sat down in my lounge
older, wiser, sadder, well-traveled
and now all-knowing what I always knew :
“It’s an imperfect world
everywhere
What can you expect
from impure persons?”
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 8:34 PM UTC
A smile
resembles a flower
sometimes, drawn on a paper,
or on a memory wall.Freshly painted.
Imagine me sitting
limbs akimbo, easy, relaxed,
free from all kinds of travel anxiety,
looking high,
at the far end of the transit lounge,
smiling,
looking back at a memory
of a girl/ incident/landscape
I now don't exactly remember,
when,
a girl, sitting across me
in a sort of airport fatigue
looking unreasonably perplexed,
asked, "Are you smiling at me?"
Was I? If only she was my memory!
She wasn't smiling, I noticed.
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 2:21 PM UTC
Who are you to worm your way into my life?
Who are you to stick your nose into my business?
Who are you to scar me with your knife?
Who are you to laugh at my skins thinness?
Why are you so incredibly invasive?
Why are you so undeniably malicious?
Why are you so desperate to be hated?
Why are you so harshly vicious?
Who am I to be unreasonably attacked?
Who am I to be relentlessly victimized?
Who am I to have my foundation cracked?
Who am I to have to be the only one civilized?
Why am I forced to still deal with your immaturity?
Why am I still having to defend myself against your blows?
Why am I being attacked because of your insecurity?
Why am I dealing with these questions I've posed?
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 3:47 PM UTC
I tell you now I mean not to offend, but I have this on my heart
Good friends are hard to find, and I have about two-- so that’s a start
I am built with this capacity to love, and need an unconditional friend for Always
I need someone to talk to, I need someone to share and not judge how I spend my days
It’s crazy how you can have a few that say they are true to your cause
But turn around and leave you lonely to speak only to the four walls
I need an ear to be lent without the bitter upchuck of an aftertaste
Someone who won’t use what was spoken during weak moments to later throw up in my face
Someone who can be honest with me, making me better and not kick me when I am down
And when it comes to the wire, they will defend me and stand with me on solid ground
Someone to offer a hug, and a few words of encouragement when I need to just make it through
Someone that I can call on at any time, that will make time for me because our friendship is important to them too
A person whose words can hit home with truth, but are seasoned with salt
Someone who can admit when they too are wrong, instead of making it everyone else’s' fault
A friend who can lend support in my career, but also admonishes me to chase my dreams
Someone who wants to know what makes me smile, understanding my complexities and my amusement at silly things
A person's whose opinion is just as much the same as mine as it is different because we can agree to disagree
Someone that understands and actually takes an interest in the part of me that's Queen Poetess B
Someone who won’t use me only in their time of need, and forget me when times are great
A friend that can share in my successes and accomplishments, and not secretly stand on the side tryna Hate
I try to be the friend to others that I always wish I had, but cannot find
And I become more restless as time continues to pass me by
I am a good soul whose journey feels unreasonably solo despite my attempts to be enough
And the odds of being knocked down are higher than the expectation to keep getting up
Best Friend, I wish I knew you; I have some tears to shed in your presence
I want to know your character; I want to cherish your essence
I want to support you and help further your ambitions
I want to lend an ear and anything I can to help you to achieve your visions
I want to extend a hand for you to hold when words cannot explain how you feel
I want you to tell me what you are afraid of, even if it’s not real
I want to provide a calming word to ease your frustration
I want to be the one you call when your success calls for a celebration
I want to be the friend you are looking for in the darkness, holding the source of light
Most of all, though, I need you to fill this gaping loneliness in my life.
May 5, 2010
May 5, 2010 at 4:16 AM UTC
The day before seeing you
Sky
Is unreasonably
Overcast.
Plaintain stalks
Quarrel with each other
Birds go silent
Friends talk
In some other language
When the tea vendor
Asks for change
I give him a pen
When the girl in the office
Asks for the headset
I hand over my mobile
Car’s key
To the beggar
A crow
Scolds me
Asks me
Where have I gone
I ask myself the same
The day before
I came to see you
No
Nothing
Hope
It’ll rain
Tomorrow
The sky
Grins knowingly.
Translator - Shyma P
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 9:35 PM UTC
Let me be calm
Let me be free
This is not all I am allowed to be
Let me be wild
Let me be proud
It does not mean I am always this loud
Let me be happy, let me be sad,
and occasionally
let me be unreasonably,
and furiously
mad,
Let me be Poignant,
Let me be deep
Yes I am sheltered, and yes I will leap,
Leap with no fear and leap with such force
Because art and purpose will serve its course
I am a vehicle of the soul, and a pardon from god
A label will brand me and cage me and blind me
But the labeler’s mind will lose me or find me.
I am so much more than a statistic or name,
So much more than a figure of a body or frame,
So much life,
so much breath, so much thought, so much depth, so much fight, so much light…
So much to learn and so much to know. So much to change, so much to grow,
So here i stand, alone and untamed. I am unarmed and silent and i am never afraid…
So don’t dare decide that i’m something i’m not, don’t dare cast me in your story if you don’t know the plot.
Let me define my own divine path. Your imperfections are teachers and i love you for that.
I know not my purpose,
i know not my goal,
but this is the song of the many sided soul
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
I am jealous of your bedsheets,
the ones you wrap yourself in
over and over and over -
when you are unreasonably cold
during the long winter season.
I am jealous of the ever changing moon
who gets to look at you around midnight
through the window in your dark room.
I am jealous of the warm cups of coffee
that get to touch your lips every morning.
(don't hide the dark circles under your eyes,
I think they're lovely anyway.)
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
"at this very moment we're
on a blue and green orb
flying through space at an
unreasonably fast speed
neither of us can comprehend fully
and we call that big orb Earth
and billions of people live on it
just like us
flying through space
and most of them
aren't even aren't even aware of how
miniscule
their lives are
and right now
we are on a tiny island in the middle
of the atlantic ocean
and it's 5am
and most people are probably asleep
and we're flying through space so fast
but I'm in bed with you right now
wide awake
sharing this moment with you
and no one will ever know
and in the grand scheme of things
it's not even important
but this moment
is the moment
I've been waiting for my entire life
and there is no one
I would rather share this
incredible, insignificant
moment with
more than
you."
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 6:16 PM UTC
Love happens at random moments in time,
her chemical pheromones mingling with mine.
It is forever spontaneously combustible,
everlastingly irrational, and irresistble.
It happens to me, and to her simultaneously,
often it sneaks up unreasonably erroneously.
Wrapped in a perfect breast full of intoxication,
and supple red juicy lips of inosculation.
Inoculating my impaired brain to fight off reason,
her drunk tongue in my ear ultimately pleasing.
Her unseen warm places so wickedly entice me,
her cool intrepid breath so willingly invites me.
The bright stars radiate from her musical eyes,
like elaborate pyrotechnics on the 4th of July.
She has questions to answers I already bought,
feels subliminal messages I already thought.
Love; its that strange apple we've tasted before,
locked deep within our emotional repertoire.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
It is 5:16 am and I’m sitting, smoking a cigarette out my window.
I’ve barely slept in days,
Everything around me is quiet and serene, not a single soul awake,
The only sound is the wind rustling the leaves
But my brain is on fire.
I don’t know if it’s from the sleeplessness or the million thoughts all at once swirling around attacking my mind.
But it hurts. A searing pounding in my head.
I want to do something fun
I want to do something reckless
I want to do something dangerous
I want to do something that’ll send adrenaline racing through my body just so I can feel alive.
I want to run away
Go on a ******
Party for weeks
Fill my body with drugs
I want to risk my life
Feel blood dripping down my skin
I want to do anything to feel my own morality.
This is why at 13 I was binge drinking every day and popping pills,
The substances were enough to keep the voices quiet for a little while.
But tonight I stay at my window,
Chain smoke another 4 cigarettes,
Thinking of all the juvenile things I could be doing.
This is what mania is like for me.
There’s little warning, just an itch under my skin of feeling stuck, or unreasonably bored.
When it hits it’s not like a ton of bricks,
There’s no immediate realization I’m manic,
It feels more like neon shadows slithering towards me,
scratching and seeping themselves into my body
Whispering, but still screaming, directly to the source,
Invading my peace,
My stability.
********* just let me ******* sleep.
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 4:54 PM UTC
not about the color of his eyes
The weight of his stare
pushed her back
pressing her will
against the sheets
her eyes
crushed close
an attempt to obliterate the heat
She wrote not about his lips
The way they pretended
to hold some shy secret
brushing temptation
pulling back
evoking her appetite
till she believed
starvation
would eat her alive
She wrote not about the battles
repeated
with wet skin
fire
fingers clasped and
limbs entwined
Their warrior cries and
hushed urgings
the inevitability of
death
a quiet relief
that held only
until war
was incited once more
What she did write
the sadness
the annilhation of reason
that completely
devoured
her head
How unreasonably her ego
stood down
refusing to protect her
leaving her
banished
to the emotional
unable to talk herself out of his charms
I suppose this is the reason
she didn't want to write
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
I just wanna rock with you.
If your down let's find a place to go.
The stars are out.
In an honest world the clouds have no say so.
To deny the vibe you give.
Light, airy.
They'd all run from you.
The clouds that unreasonably linger about.
The arms of your galaxy infinitely stretched.
Kindled in rotation.
The dynamics a simple smile can make.
A sort of religious happening.
Expanding with time.
Let's find a place to go.
Nothing but space
In the cosmos of you.
The hint twinkles.
We spiral in orbit.
Inhaling bright hue.
The analogy of aesthetics.
All together in vibe.
Asteroids appearing at the right time.
Sincerely running towards you.
Another galaxy that mimics the millennium of fantasy.
Alone in the blink of an eye.
Starstruck in the center of the universe.
Her universe.
In the galaxy of her arms,
We clash.
Colliding in bright hue
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 3:34 AM UTC