"vertex" poems
thoughts fall
with structure and symmetry....
as if whole your life
have been drawn using a compass
words break in acute angles....
retracing it back to me
everywhere i turn,
i end up nearing the vertex
failing infinite times by
squaring the circles...
still i cant stop my clumsy thoughts...
ellipsing my mind....
finding order in the chaos
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
Our love was like a negative parabola;
Where we thought we found happiness
We only found the vertex
And then it came crashi ng d o w n
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
Lexical littorals illiterate foal
Talus and cirque shore and shoal
Iconoclast anarchy vortex knoll
****** matrix vertex peak
Semantic regalia flux and seek
Torrid allusions own and keep
Dichotomy paradox surge and swell
Primordial integumence purge and fell
Contiguity confluence dirge and knell
Reliquiae requiem show and tell
Accession assertion deliberative need
Transcendent ascension expiate seed
Subordinate ancillary exigency deed
Subliminal subjunctive sensorium seethe
Uxorious usury detinue blithe
Contiguous currency decimate tithe
Tractive proximity critical lithe
Delusory phantasm futurity kithe
Alacritous tactile acuity interstice
Accidence ambience resonance quipy pith
Scenario synopsis resilience gist
Endergonic protensive progressiveness rift
Prestissimo preterite retroactive gift
Poignant puissance piquant myth
Fable fantasticate legend list
Preternatural gesticulate proclivity pith
Propensity assimilate diabolical mist
********** fornicate zooidal mist
Parenthetical erudite erumpence fist
Quiescent gossamer lecherous wrist
Militant mercenary actuator aorist
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
Like the V shaped pattern
of wake lines
behind a boat
the angle
between us
has stretched out far
The two arms of a chevron
have been forced
to let go
and I dream of the vertex
all of the time
When you are not the woman
of anyone’s dreams
Fridays become best
for cleaning
and folding
clothes
from three months ago
They become best
for dreaming
incognito
of serving
a man’s conscience
in bed for breakfast
It is the type of silence
that has carved the ******
back into my body
It’s left the fingers
searching
for what stifles
the neck
I comfort
my *******
pressing hard
on the button
below the belly
Until I am a sour fox
without blood
And what good is that rug
than to wipe your feet on
Stationary
I’m dead and
Swaying
like a rocking chair
in my bed
And for the love of god,
I cannot soothe
the cry after I
******
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 7:03 PM UTC
The sky looked down on me
It was ashamed
I was blinded by
My emotions
And could not look past
The smog
To see
Every
Single
Star
"I tried!"
I yell at the sky
The sky does not care
Failure is unacceptable
And the sky wraps around me
Surrounds me
And grounds me to a single point
The vertex of infinity
Where it feels strange to be
Alive
I step out of my body
And into nothing
And the nothing steps back into me
Like a great cascade of cold and blackness
I am replaced with emptiness
And my body flees
I am left
Standing alone in the field of memory
I see everything that can be
That will be
That has been
That is
That mustn't be
I am shown the truth
The truth that inscribed unto every grain of sand
Is all of time and space
That the faces of all the people of your past
Can be found
Within the skin of an acorn
That all the things you will accomplish
Are written as a list
On the tip of a needle
I am shown that everything
Runs on a universal code
That everything
Can be
And will be
Written over
By whomever holds the marker
I walk through the field mildly
Paying strict attention at first
Noting the worst
And the best
Of memories
But then I freeze
And fall to my knees
Because I see
I see what I have searched for for so long
The memory of me
It is marked with charcoal
Edges smudged
On the corner of a
Small
Gray
Rock
And I know
That it is because I have not
Seized the day
I have not stopped and smelled the flowers
Nor brushed past them on a mission
I have simply been
And been content with simply being
And my memory in the grand scheme
Would fade as easily as a page
Let burn
I grabbed a chisel that was strength
And a hammer that was conviction
And I carved my memory unto
The largest boulder there was
And when I threw down the bottle
With its rag halfway reaching for the flame
And halfway hiding in the kerosene
And it smashed on the field
Everything burned
Everything was erased
Except for my memory
Carved on the largest boulder
And the sky smiled
For it knew that I had now realized
The true nature of its
Disappointment
Come, child
I must take you home
There is much to do
"You're ****** right there is"
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
aix, beck's, becks, blech's, checks, cheques, czechs, dec's, decks, dex, eckes, eques, ex, fecks, flecks, flex, heck's, hex, jex, kecks, lecce, lex, meckes, mex, necks, nex, next, peck's, pecks, plex, rex, sheck's, shek's, specks, specs, sphex, tech's, techs, teck's, tex, treks, vex, whelks, wrecks, x, x. amex, ampex, annex, apec's, apex, armtek's, avtex, aztecs, berlex, caltex, cemex, centex, cmx, comex, complex, comtrex, convex, crownx, defex, dissects, duplex, effects, ejects, entex, execs, expects, eyetech's, fanech's, fedex, finex, gatx, gtech's, inmex, intex, latex, memtec's, metex, natec's, nobec's, nymex, nynex, objects, onex, opec's, paychecks, paychex, pemex, perplex, pewex, playtex, portec's, projects, qintex, quebec's, railtex, rednecks, reflects, rejects, respects, roughnecks, scitex, simplex, starplex, steinbeck's, subjects, suspects, syntex, telex, telmex, tenrecs, timeplex, tridex, trintex, triplex, truex, vertex, visx, wall-tex, wedtech's, westtech's adaptec's, ametek's, atx, banamex, between decks, biotechs, bottlenecks, cineplex, cybersex, cytotechs, datarex, discotheques, equitex, eurochecks, gendrisek's, genentech's, govpx, hyponex, intellects, intersects, kaisertech's, malcolm x, medarex, mediplex, megaplex, memorex, methanex, metroplex, middlesex, multidex, multiplex, neorx, oraflex, pillowtex, prentnieks, rolodex, stratoflex, superx, symantec's, teleflex, turtlenecks, unisex, ventritex adaptaplex, ameritech's, audiotex, begonia rex, ****** simplex, solar apex, videotex, tyrannosaurus rex, regression of y on x
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 6:24 PM UTC
He’s trick, like enrapturing
Wherein lies the paradox of his pantheism parapet’s paragon
Extraversion embezzlements and euthanasia extortions
Embark embargo extraditions
Diction’s enunciation echoes of opaque opulence
Its redolence a savory waft
The evolution of psychic clarity’s id conclusions
Bizarre dichotomous augur the singer’s aural austerity
Gypsy Queen, his guitar’s moniker, romanced aimed intention
Elaborate elliptical empathy endeavors for posterity’s predication
Pandemically phatic propriety venerations
Their apex crux axis beyond finite solution
Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma
Cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix's vertex vortex
The individual must remain sacrosanct
Traipsing through the fallow furrows of assimilation’s synthetic synthesis
Like capillaries' capricious and intravenous intrepid
Incalculably sensual beyond emotion’s expression
Impetus intrigue's intuitional verve
Ethology’s entelechy, theosophy’s theophany
Zoomorphic zoolatry's social contiguities
Futurity's corporeally preternatural fatidic
Elan-vital's apotropaic apotheosis
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 3:20 AM UTC
we are the vertex that opens up an asymmetrical parabola
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 6:19 AM UTC
Oh, I guess I don't really know.
The music. Texas amber.
The voice of the moon. The barred door.
The death of the dog. Ampersands.
Woman underground.
The silk woods.
Women in purple houses.
The underside of the whale, the sun.
Have I got my shoes?
Words with even emphasis.
Speech impediments; the pen.
Too many rooms.
Any kind of jam, jelly.
Vertex in space.
Mint-flavoured Scientology advertisements:
Early Easter Sunday.
Strips of Velcro, ****** hair.
Original manuscripts and forks.
Tea-leaf autumns.
Footfalls.
Summon the poets.
Start the El Camino.
Strike my face with a match.
Eat Wonderland.
Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 8:18 AM UTC
negative b plus/minus square root b² minus 4ac over 2a, the quadratic formula;
the numbers don't lie.
10th June, 2002; my birth.
the numbers don't lie.
when y equals to 0 you can find
the x-intercepts;
the numbers don't lie.
#03-04; my unit.
the numbers don't lie.
I am better than everyone but
1
person in this room;
the numbers don't lie.
when y equals to a times (x-h)² plus k,
(h,k) is the vertex;
the numbers don't lie.
157 cm; my height.
the numbers don't lie.
negative b over 2a,
the axis of symmetry;
the numbers don't lie.
16th April, she told me she would love me forever,
23rd May, we kissed,
14th February, she told me to leave her forever;
glassy-hearted valentine;
the numbers don't lie.
negative b² minus 4 times a times c,
the discriminant;
the numbers don't lie.
43 kg; my weight.
the numbers don't lie.
my value is exponentially depleting but
I am still better than 7 out of 10 of you;
the numbers don't lie.
when x equals to 0 you can find
the y-intercept;
the numbers don't lie.
3 times, my drowning attempts failed;
the numbers don't lie.
I think my days are numbered;
I don't lie.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 5:24 AM UTC
The wind, it calls, through foggy day
T o dazzle dust and drive dirt away.
But some of these darkened vertex
Hide the stories and forever perplex
The strengths of tested 'feel-good' fables,
Denouncing sciences' empirical labels:
Too thin, too fat, too short, too tall,
Too hairy, too bald, too square, too like a ball,
Too strong, too weak, too open to lies,
To encompassing of stories of the skies.
Too angry, too meek, too full of passion,
So give us pills! It's the latest fashion!
Dose us up on your chemical compounds,
Stop us from disclosing rebellious sounds
Which remind us that not all we know,
Are these soul-sucking television shows:
Nip-Tuck, What NOT to Wear, Big ******* Brother,
This is the modern day 'Watch With Mother',
Feeding false standards, 'Bieber-fied' norms,
Sapping energy, becoming a nation of vacant gorms.
So Yes! Hide your kids, hide your wife,
Open your own doors, live your own life,
Because this **** ain't going nowhere,
And even without a deity, a higher force is watching, somewhere.
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 4:08 PM UTC
Dream?
Rather, I trance
Clairvoyantly and deeply
Surreal depression is all encompassing
Resting wholesomely in pit
Submerged for days
Birthed within for purpose
Almost as if I am entitled to certain knowledge
These trances are not subtle
An omnipresence exists
Shifting my point of view to be perceived as a film
An entirely silent film
Absent are words and sounds
Fully present is divination
Intuition at its vertex
Within streets and eyes
My surroundings and skies
I am given details of the trance I am in/watching
A glance triggers my insides to whisper
*As her eyes screamed fire
Her lips never parted
...
When her eyelashes thanked me
My exhale smiled*
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 9:19 PM UTC
Like the tortise came to
finish last you appeared
During a quandry where
I was already cornered
Looking up into the
hollowed and pale face of
failure, pereptual dissatisfaction
I felt you like the sun
wraps its arms around
a body dripping in frigid
lake water
after a jump into the
cool blue which seemed to
stop time
just so I could reach out to
grab your heart
before it could fall out
I have you now
I've tied you into me
Where the time stopped
our souls got to sit together
for eternity
they would dance into each other
in celebration of our union
they saw the meaning before we did
and we didn't need much time to
notice it too
In this moment
I feel no fear
For the first time
I looked down into
the water and
it's clear
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 4:32 AM UTC
The Mecca is the trifecta of the vertex of the epicenter of the apex
But we just use that as a reference point
We refused to be swayed by centripetal force
And peeled back the layers of the mind to find the inertia that had given us the centrifugal force to push us in our quest to find the ultimate reality
I saw a vandal giving in to voyeurism
When a watershed moment happened
He had a sudden premonition
There were nervous virgins about to take the plunge
There were people giving hi 5's to each other and making pinky promises they swore to keep
There were poor soul's trying to quit cold turkey
Eating molten ****** cakes
I looked to the East and visions came to me as well
I saw kids having fever dreams of pitching fits and fever pitches
I saw liberated lesbian librarians eating their feelings and playing
**** one, **** one, marry one"
I saw the extinction of guilty pleasures
I saw a man being caught up in getting up to speed with
I trifling teenagers
Low on money but high off drugs
I saw myself checking in to check up on the check out line to pick out and pick up a new catcher's mitt
I caught a case
A call
And a cold
I saw the love of my life running towards me on a soft white beach
As she came closer I could see her beginning to decay
Her skin melted
Her organs and blood fell from her
Her eyes and teeth dropped out of her head
Her hair fell out
And her skeleton came into my arms and I heard a whisper
"I will always be with you, my uncrowned king"
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
I keep climbing up
to the vertex of hierarchical pyramid of your mind
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 2:17 AM UTC
Symmetry deficits call for chiaroscuro.
Highlight the summits,
and diffuse shadows at the vertex
of cheekbone and mandible.
Colour the apples, rubescent as newborn flesh,
and soften edges for a gentle definition.
If you paint claret from bow to corner
it can create something fuller; induce desire-
Valencia can bleach the blemishes.
Liquid or matte lies in pesky furrows
and rots like carrion in warm weather:
remember to blot excess sebum prior.
Are you pneumatic? Applications can support you-
with enough you can acquire
something ample for a decade.
Look to the lens. It winks;
raise brow in a clean cut, diagonal
from nostril edge: the playful frame apertures admire.
Flash.
Share with friends:
refresh/close/open,
and sigh at affirmations.
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 3:18 PM UTC
She grabs
her
triangle
for
a gyrate.
The end product
is
but a forced
gem
to sparkle.
Spoons to
lick
Spoons to
pour
Limit-
the
hidden clown
A stop
and
she figures
her
futile vertex.
Each point
reflected
twice.
Birth, desire
& death
in consecutive
origins.
A dead life.
Gems are but
stones.
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 5:22 PM UTC
It was the low point to my life;
The vertex to that concave up.
I stayed there for the longest time -
Nothing to bring me back to the top.
Then you came with your kinetic energy
And scooped me up as you made your way-
It was like I was set to boiling point
But you came and turned off the power.
I should have know what came next
I’ve seen all the sines in every situation-
We were coasting though the waves
And you left me once we got to the trough.
A part of me waits for your return
Even if it’s just to turn the boiler back on
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
We draw the distance between us closer even the odds are imaginary.
We intersect at such point though we are parallel.
Our lines are right, aren't they?
Time and space make it isometric, real.
Is it actually real?
Or actually a tangential feeling which is only adjacent to the vertex of love?
That I understand not.
Mind over matter I must.
Letting the ratio completely imbalance I fall to the critical values of emotion.
The slope is steeper. I fall if I don't run.
But I think I might just continue to extend the line wherever it takes me.
It might stop or infinitely endure the constraints it intersects.
Well, the plane is vast.
But oh, the world is small.
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 3:27 AM UTC
Today is tomorrow’s Tuesday
night and I’m drenched in what could have been
your breath or my carbon monoxide. A cocktail of the two,
of us- the gemini
we are. We were.
Your weight felt heavy and my body concave.
Rasping through the speakers of your state of the art
speaker system-my playlist. I made it
for moments like these. Named it blazing lips
and raptured fingers or maybe just:
'Revival'.
I'll let you trace
my outline, if I can be
your vertex, pulling deeper and harder,
pushing pencil to paper—ink on velvet
and the emptiness of words.
I gave up to you. I give up
through you. What words could mean
more than you’re okay. We’re just
fine:
You could ignite me, or let me simmer
in the twisting of the sheets
or your dreadlocks. Built in
subtlety and
abandonment. The chronicles
of sobriety detailed in the hollow
of your tongue-- the stale space
between two thoughts--a presence
and my innocence: fruit
ripe for the tasting. You could sip
at my pretense and I’d swallow your malice
or we could delve into my irreplaceability. Wait
a week. We’re just fine.
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 10:13 PM UTC
A short burst of substance
A **** in my self pride
Spurn this when it happens
Deep below it hurts
It’s like I am the police men
Chasing down the crime
The arched loop of uncertainty
Crawls and begs for life
It nests in my bold vertex
A lukewarm spot to thrive
I’ll slam the cortex open
And free the sweltering hive
The queen of pain herself
Is the painkiller of the queen
They waltz around like harlequin
I’m gently howling, awaiting help
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 12:58 PM UTC