"upswing" poems
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QUIVER ALL-MAXIMIZING
SAMUEL DAVID <[email protected]>
3:38 AM (56 minutes ago)
to Daniel
SOAR OWNERSHIP
/ UTTERANCES OUTLABOURED PILGRIMS/
By the creditor at cyprus and on other grounds:
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Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 7:44 AM UTC
Is this a power hierarchy?
Does our dueling footwork
Convince us to
Lock into some sort of
Competitive symmetry,
Twisting into your
Mashed potato minefield with
Doo *** , doo dad laden
Dancing shoes?
Gimme your
Electronic sympathy, baby,
Infiltrate the airwaves with
Piercing eye contact and
Tremourous finger tip brushes.
Is my informality coming through?
Have I communicated with
Unlocked elbows and
Megaphone ears that not only
My body but universe
Lives here and in you?
Orient yourself to me,
I task while asking you to
Take off your straight jacket and
Stay a while. Unlock your
Pandora 's box so your
Monsters can meet mine,
Mirrored in different shades of
Shock and shame, operating under
Varied hues of the same name.
Lean into me, let your
Shoulders slender and shimmy to a
Tenderizing touch, the
Objects under your skin collapsing
To the 4/4 timed battle
Between form and perception.
The ingestion of the
Metaphor is the message, and
The tongue regards a tune
Differently than a taste.
Face symmetrical, nostrils work,
The blooming waste of consumption
Centered on the top right corner of
Your cheekbones.
I can't help but grab the
Slight upswing in the tone
Of your voice and spin it around;
Let's swing, darling.
I'd like to take your descriptors
On a date to the dance floor.
How long can we keep this up until meaning has waltzed out the door?
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
Breathe Steady 10.29.20
go forth then, unto God and his Glory, abounding and rejoicing in the power and peace of that holy dwelling place.
abide, therefore, forever in the Love and in the Light.
-sayeth the channelings, sayeth the distorted mask,
sayeth that through which sound passes.-
sons and daughters of the Earth who bathe in the waters
drawn of love/light/wisdom in the bathhouse of
the higher densities and inner planes.
Bath waters of golden white light, brilliant in a
radial pouring forth of tangible understanding and freewill.
scarcely can such energy be described in so
cumbersome a language, charming as it endeavors to be.
underwhelming must the emotions evoked be
in comparison with the All Glory of experience of
that which is spoken of.
the death ****** of the fire-bird serves as its own
inoculum and womb; two ends of a terminus
in polarity.
I activate in order to combine,
dwindling dread.
I seal the upswing of trans-dimensional laughter,
with the everyday tone of exodus.
I am guided by the advent of thermals.
-I am a solar riptide, surf me-
and then time slowed way down.
the semi trucks were like great sea mammals with
their whale calls and slow passage by the flanks.
“Who are you?”
“I am the Kalachakra.”
“Did you hear that?” (hushed tones, hands cover the phone.)
I was quite close to the illusion of Death.
The opaque specter, shaking and rumbling the very
fabric of the matrix about me.
wavering not within the sinkhole of indifference lest my terror turn manifest.
I’ve risen from a pillar of salt,
I’ll rise from the embers next.
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 8:37 PM UTC
i’ve always been on a
mission to reinvent myself
a mission expressed through
spreadsheets, guitars
powerpoints, paintbrushes
fabric, calculator buttons
bright colors of yarn
coffee and flowers
smiles at strangers
and always words
here and there
then and again
i’ve found myself satisfied
with who i found myself
to be at the end
of the week
i thought things were
on the upswing
thought that i had
almost made it
for two months this year
i was satisfied
with fifty six hour work weeks
and the bright blue blanket
forming under my fingers
the feeling of hope
brewing when i looked in
my bank account and thought
about him
about the home
that wasn’t ours yet but
would be soon
and then it began
to crumble
a brick or two at
a time until a whole
piece of the picture
tumbled out
and my weeks were reduced
to thirty five hours and
a crippling sense of
impending disaster
even though everything else
was still looking up
now that i have a
bit of extra time i find
myself low on motivation
and wondering
if it’s time to build
a new version of myself
but i’ve reinvented myself
so many times
i don’t have the energy
to do it again
i just want to
exist
just want to fall
asleep in bed at the
end of the day and
not wake up in the morning
wanting to sleep
for the rest of the day
to enjoy moving
my body
the way the
seasons change
and how the stars
look at night
i’ve always been good
at staying
you just keep doing
what you’ve been doing
let your routines pull
you along with them
but now i’m learning
the art of leaving
and i’m finding its not
as hard as i thought it was
in fact you might
even think
of it as almost
freeing
the leaving
behind of what’s
gotten too
familiar
the option to
reinvent
past leavings
have hurt
left me reeling
on cold floors
fighting to get air
into my lungs
but this time
the leaving is
quiet
barely noticeable
in the chilly
morning dew
as i let myself
slip away
under the gray sky
that hasn’t yet
realized it’s hanging
over a lost town
and i don’t feel pain
only the slightest
twinge of
bittersweet nostalgia
i’m not going
to reinvent myself
this time
i’m going to
exist
and somewhere
along the line
i think maybe
it’s myself
that i’ll find
Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 12:29 AM UTC
We said our vows
in front of a crowd
of well wishers
and family.
We moved in
as husband and wife
and started a life
not in sin but love.
How quickly love turns sour
our wedding rings
they came to symbolise
flings and lies.
How quickly love dies.
The ring now just a band
of cold gold encompassing
a finger filled with hate.
A poison ring,
no longer are we yin to yang.
Yet the upswing to this decline
is that I watch the crystalline water
on a recliner, paid for by your life
Insurance.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
bitter air pours through cracked windows at sixty miles per hour
dashboards turn to focal points turn to the only sight i'll keep from these days
and the nighttime pitch black glosses over moments of eyes glazed
the week's exhaustion turns each of us up, empty and dour
we work through our days and leave the waking hours to devour
sprawled over small couches and cold basement floors, always dazed
we come alive to mood music and greasy food at odd hours, forever unfazed
we make each spontaneous saturday night, uniquely and quietly ours
the clock in the dash reckons 3:46am in a thin, strobing green
he blinks hard, weary eyes and overworked body, fighting against the morning
and the neon signs of the little old marketplaces, oh, how they sing
we wire ourselves and electrify our moments with caffeine
we crash and burn and forget every night, ignoring our own warnings
and the sleepless sacrifices for each other's wonder, oh, the upswing.
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 7:59 PM UTC
And one day,
Things didnt seem
So bad anymore.
Nothing really changed,
But there was a sparkle of light
Peaking through the perpetual gray clouds.
The silver linings
Were surrounding the darkness.
My whole world,
A little less dark
A little less gloomy.
But if nothing really changed,
How could anything get better?
Maybe I just got used to it.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:33 PM UTC
Do I know love?
Do you mean affection with…
no objection
and a connection
like a good infection
of a heart’s collection?
Like a crush…
that makes you blush
like you are a lush
that makes your mind gush
with a hard rush?
Maybe you mean to cling…
but not a fling
more like an upswing
and a sting
to what is the real thing?
Or to get close…
where the insides grows
and the body glows
from head to toes
wearing a smile that shows?
Like to get involved...
where your problem is solved
and your mind has evolved
around your heart it revolved
no longer absolved?
Maybe an intense feeling…
that is appealing
for you squealing
for an inner healing
that floats you to the ceiling
Or you mean to yearn…
where you learn
for a good turn
that makes you earn
for a passion burn?
Do you mean to choose…
with nothing to lose
no longer the blues
but a happy news
an offer to not refuse?
So do I know love?
I am not sure what you speak of…
Jun 16, 2010
Jun 16, 2010 at 5:53 AM UTC
lungs lined with poetry
and my mouth
with the ****** sting
and my heart on the upswing
tachycardia's zing
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 8:19 PM UTC
A thoroughness here was her house
as she'd listen inside a glibly lit room
her whispers would doom in doubt
so forcibly heathen her lover's twitch
bright as her soul made ex spruce glow
but her midland east of Old Blue
soon her lakelet suburb dawned flatlander accent
mere document in fervid upswing
on porch of antiquity round inlaid flag.
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 3:44 PM UTC
Lifting my eyes from the book, from the tightly sequenced lines
to the full and perfect night:
Oh how like the stars my buried feelings break free,
as if a bouquet of wildflowers
had come untied:
The upswing of the light ones, the bowing sway of the heavy ones
and the delicate ones' timid curve.
Everywhere joy in relation and nowhere grasping;
world in abundance and earth enough.
Rainer Maria Rilke---Uncollected Poems
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 1:56 PM UTC
When the autumn dawns,
Nosedive like a wither'd leaf,
Fly with the pinions of air,
From the terra firma
Rise like a phoenix
When the autumn dawns,
Upswing like disrob'd tree,
Robb'd of every bling,
Uncloth'd
But thriving still
When the autumn dawns,
Fly like windy breeze,
In the clutches of
Your hawk-claws, carry
The moribund leaves and twigs
When the autumn dawns,
Settle like rich soil,
Lose enough to let go,
Strong enough
to hold on.
Dear Friend, When the autumn of life dawns,
Carry aroint deceas'd past,
Fly in a direction new
Stand strong and recreate
Thyself like a phoenix.
Copyright Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 21 SEPT. 2015.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 4:51 PM UTC
for some strange reason
i can feel my heart bleeding
for life, i am pleading
with death i am proceeding
this fake life that im leading
has got me asking for meaning
this isnt me, but its what im being
broken bridges between me and you
theres something i forgot to do
i forgot to make it up to you
after all the **** ive put you through
i still love you,baby its true
in the end, all i need is you
and i know you still need me too
no matter what i'll always be here
i didn't mean to make you feel like you disappeared
i didnt mean to make our relationship queer
or to make you feel like you shouldn't be here
cause i want you to know, i love you my dear
please dont leave me alone in the dark
our love might be dead, but it can respark
our fire was huge, our ashes very stark
if you asked you to marry me, whats your remark
dont leave me standin here no more
please please dont walk out that door
know our love hit bottom, but we can make it sore
when we split, my heart just tore
i promised you id make it up
i didnt mean to get mad and blow up
baby dont tell me twice, i know i ****** up
it didnt happen the way i set it up
well now imm put your finger through this ring
make the wedding singer sing
*** imma take you under my wing
cause now baby we're back on the upswing(:
Jul 1, 2010
Jul 1, 2010 at 7:36 AM UTC
Golf is a funny sport.
I mean, you've got this assortment of sticks
and this tiny little ball
whose goal is a small hole hundreds of yards away,
and in between the two are a few obstacles.
In fact, there's a whole treacherous landscape.
But I'm obsessed with the swing.
Mainly, the mental process involved with bringing it down.
Fear, doubt, confidence -
it all plays a part in it,
and a hope that you've swung well when it finally hits.
(Bear in mind, of course, that this all happens in less than a second,)
but the reward or disaster comes immediately after.
By that, I mean, during the upswing.
That's when the golfer sees the trajectory of the ball as a result of all of their prior feelings.
I've never even played golf, really.
I just like it as a simile.
By that, I mean,
how it applies metaphorically.
There's a lot of depth there,
especially with the upswing.
I may not be a golfer,
but I play darts and throw beans on occasion,
and the upswing holds the same kind of persuasion in all these games of accuracy.
You see, there's this feeling that comes soon after the release;
almost like a premonition.
As if knowing beforehand that the thing is or isn't going to land where we want it to.
And that's all I mean by the upswing -
that I've got a good feeling 'bout you.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 1:00 AM UTC
I used to shed light from an ignorant place
Crashing waves with the willows
With a smirk on my face
I fooled fellows for fun, but I'd keep my nose clean
And I'd play it the fool if my shame was unseen
Wiley as I was, I'd be joyous ashtray
At night with the cowboys, Askew by the day
And it started off slowly, with a glint in my heart
When you begin stopping, you stop what you start
In a matter of time, I'd trade matter for time
Pills for my pleasure. My passion for pride.
And my haired pull back tightly, as with time it'd do.
Don't follow their path, or this too could be you.
But alas there is this, an upswing indeed,
There isn't a day or an instance you see.
This isn't the fate of everybody there is,
Don't get lost in the race.
Never forget just to live.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
Be the bend-far, rooted queen,
Narcolepted upswing.
Be the effervescence,
Be the
clock
wise
swirl.
Do the summ'ry new cling,
Green finger, rotten ring.
Do the only-Evers,
Do the
thick
turn
world.
stammer-toothy
diddelack-a-span clean
I love your
little hands-
I love your little hand
springs.
(one, two)
(one)
Be the guard in black.
Be the curvature stacked.
Be my woman.
Be the turn.
Be
love.
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 8:27 PM UTC
portal space is open,
in a purple swirl,
and I'm
****** back into a world
on the brink of an advent
toward some higher mind,
with a blessed perspective,
this recollection's wretched.
Levity was a given,
for mortality ignored.
What to do with levity,
with mortality accepted,
and endings implored.
last laugh always wins
(where are your friends?)
have been deemed unnecessary
everlasting grin
(how off have you been?)
have i?
no. have i?
what's it gonna take to get this bad brain
back on the right of the left hand black?
nothing will. nothing will.
what's it gonna take to get this bad brain
back on the right track to get connected
with the rest of them?
nothing will. bad brain bad.
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 2:31 AM UTC
i'll type this in all lowercase so it looks like i'm deep, like i'm some sort of hipster
is there anything i can really say that hasn't been said before? there have been billions before me and there will be billions after me, the chance that my words are not exactly repeated is very small.
i dunno if karma is just simply taking its course but i feel as if two years ago was a mistake. i mean i learned a lot from it and did a bit of soul searching, but was the cost worth the effect? i don't wanna hear any of this "hurr get over it you need to clear your conscious" because that's a ***** thing to say and you have no idea
last year was kinda **** as well, it was definitely the upswing, if i were to make a graph out of the quality of life through the grades. kinda ruined friendships and secured new ones, and the ones i ended were definitely the right ones to get rid of
a very good quote from rammstein goes "can you see me? can you feel me? can you hear me? i don't understand you all". basically unless you know me, am me, feel me, hear me, see me, you don't even know
also, the whole "don't judge people" thing is ******** if you're not supposed to judge someone on their personality or their physical appearance, what's left? you can't NOT judge people, that's dumb as hell. you can't look at a prisoner in jail with multiple tattoos and a history of murdering people in jail and not say "oh that man's probably dangerous"
basically i feel like i'm the only smart and mature one in a sea of ****
thanks for reading my ******* in a sea of ****
Apr 7, 2011
Apr 7, 2011 at 7:12 PM UTC
Ask yourself why you doubt,
Why you fear and cast about.
You are heading the right way,
Who cares what others say?
You have no concerns to allay.
What will be will be,
All wisdoms do agree;
Like a lion and a roar,
A soldier in a war,
You will do what you are made for.
“I am not afraid; I was born to do this”,
Your actions are not remiss,
Nor for nothing,
But for everything:
A singular meaning.
Write, and do it well,
And love until your death knell.
Mind your well-being,
Bitterness is unbecoming,
The world is on the upswing.
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 8:08 PM UTC
i took the upswing
and slammed into a wall
cause i wasn't angry enough
to stop it
and i wasn't smart enough
to make anything of it
i had gravity
on my side,
could've finally
known something beautiful
but i choked on the chance
and spit out the car window
now i can feel the foundation
shaking beneath my feet
and i know im gonna fall
through the concrete
any minute,
back into the soil
graveyard of
half smoked cigarettes
and empty water bottles
cause whiskey isn't momentum
and vines strong enough
to pull humans out
of hell
aren't made up
of bad house shows,
****** up friends,
shaking hands,
or hot apartments
full of smoke
and silence
so i guess ill sleep
an other night
cold, wet, and uncomfortable
i guess ill sleep
an other night
six feet ******* under
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 2:04 AM UTC
For once, my head had nothing to say.
like a regular at a local pub,
if I ask for my "usual",
the result is my brain offering
a flood of it's cyclical thoughts
all clamoring to be heard at once.
But this time,
there was only silence.
It feels like I’m dreaming,
the atmosphere thinner than I remember,
while still trying to remind myself of reality
and I'm hoping to god
that the cliches concerning
the fleeting nature of life
maybe hold some kind of truth.
Every time there’s an upswing,
and my stomach hops up into my chest
because I’ve finally reached my pay-off,
something knocks me back
and clips chains that tether me to stability.
all the donations
all the condolences
all the "support"
don’t mean a ******* thing
if they don’t give me back my peace of mind -
and I'm scared that nothing ever will.
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC
My upper lip is still tingling from your upper lip's stubble,
and I am feeling nostalgic tonight.
Don't tell me to take care of myself,
I'm not joking when I say I'm looking for ways to
slowly force my body to shut down for good.
This place is a ghost town at this golden hour of 3 am.
I'm killing myself slowly.
I was brought up broken.
Skipping school, long bus rides going nowhere,
flashbacks like picture shows of a young, hopeless hooligan.
When I look in the mirror, I still see that child,
and she haunts me.
I've gotten by, by romanticizing the pain.
Finding beauty in the hard times
bad, ugly, sorrow dripping
hard drugs in bathtubs
like a movie scene before the upswing
and the happily ever after.
Though this life's been a cinematographic goldmine,
I just don't see the conclusion as being so bright.
Forever waiting on that upswing,
and there's simply no happily ever after in sight.
Who knew we'd still survive after so many years of
persistently seeking death ?
I never thought I'd end up here today.
So much has occurred I could've never predicted.
I never thought I'd seek the things I've sought,
There is so much of me that's still very much the same.
I never thought I'd carry this apathy so close all these years...
Who am I to plead remembrance,
when I've consistently chosen the path of least resistance ?
I am nothing.
Perhaps someday I'll fertilize the soil beneath your feet,
in this moment, that's where my aspirations lie.
In this moment, my concerns lie for those who's window lies across from my parking spot where my headlights shine bright as I arrive home at 3 am rather than for my car's broken mirrors or my expired license plate numbers.
Moved out to the suburbs sometime late August,
and in this moment, I'd be lying if I said I didn't often appreciate those long solo drives home in the early hours of the morning.
A tobacco smoke filled vehicle is my go-to place for self reflection.
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 5:16 AM UTC
I wish I were a bird
On the top of the world
Flickering my wings
Funding cushiony twigs
I wish I were a butterfly
On the sweetest petals I lie
******* the nectar
As I freely chatter
I wish I were a fish
Pedalling my fins
With fresh bubbles
And immortal fervour
I wish I were that innocuous kid
Rampageosly messing up barefeet
Denying distinctions via poor and rich
Indicating candid camaraderie
Towards his pals in poverty
Life would be pretty on the upswing...
Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 12:06 PM UTC
To the most stoical being alive,
Who acted as an asylum to the insolent offspring,
And made easy all these strives,
And gave my existence an inconcievable upswing.
He led me to the innocuous,
And made sure every ambition wasnt left astray,
Sustaining his progeny utmost congruous,
And desired us ecstatic and allay.
It wasn't as facile as the naive do think,
Despite all anguish and deprivation,
In the times he had dismay make him rethink,
But succoured me without an utter of isolation.
The real chevalier,
The benign protector,
The light hearted buoy,
And most importantly none but an adoring father.
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 10:23 AM UTC