"wavelength" poems
Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.
Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.
22.9k
Listening
To the ever so quite
Transitioning
Of ideas
Slipping into blissful
Ignorance
And the echoing
Of this parasitic
Interdependence
And everything is
Just another wavelength
Stretching its existence
To the edge of outer space
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
I’d like to be away
In a world far away
But that won’t escape
The world inside my brain
I’d like to stop the time
Live frozen between the lines
But that won’t bring me closer
To a picture perfect moment
That you and I never had
I want to live on your wavelength
Travel with you
At the speed of light
Penetrating
Any barrier
And travel parallel
To your sweet and endless path
I want to tell you that I love you
Have the courage
To make you mine
Too bad I lost the fight
That was going
Inside my mind
I’m endlessly falling
For someone like you
But I’ll gladly fall forever
If the destination leads to you
I think of you every night
And wonder where you are
Do think of me the same way?
Do you have the same thoughts?
I’m sure one day I’ll meet you
The moment won’t be perfect
But perfection is overrated
I’d rather meet you
In any way
As long as it leads me
To your mellow heart
My sweet nebula
Travel to me
As fast as you can
I’d do the same thing
If I wasn’t stuck behind
But I’m moving on
You’re my motivation
Even if met you I have not
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 12:32 AM UTC
when I;m angry,
i throw everything
i hit myself
i cut myself,
i scatter about,
i slam on things.
but i never scream it ouT
MY BRAIN IS ON ANOTHER WAVELENGTH
AND I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO.
I HATE NOT BEING ABLE TO CONTROL MYSELF
TO LET YOU GET ME SO ANGRY
AND THE THING ABOUT IT IS.
YOU DON;T EVEN CARE.,
I HZATEY OYU I HATE YOU I HATYE YOU.
N N
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
*Cimmerian Chaos, incediary
The Requiem of the Revenant:
Tis I,
The Breathing Song
Conjuring a vestige,
Ensorcelled by what I'd been envisaging.
Maimed by Tempus, The Temporal Arbiter
Words reverberating on the wavelength of my soul
Left me vibrating desolate and wayworn.
Utterances deluging me in the Dominion of Doubt
Until I reached a crossroads
For perilous was the pilgrimage I peregrinated.
The Penultimate Tribulation has begun
And though angst is festering in my flesh,
The Sacred Lotus of Dreams has not wilted,
Shalt it ever upon the Lake of the Holy Oracle;
Elysium of the Soul is awaiting those who are stalwart
In the Visage of the Shadows.*
∞Hallelujah∞
By Sanders M. Foulke III
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 5:32 AM UTC
Music is my Deity
and so benevolent is it!
A mystical Tapestry
woven upon Silence and across Time,
what about that is not Divine?
Music doesn't divide, it unites.
It attracts expressive minds, creative minds, empathic minds, logical minds.
It creates an abstract temporal psychosocial middle-ground;
You don't have to be a virtuoso
to drum along or dance or vocalize.
You don't have to be a virtuoso
for practice to reap it's rewards.
We speak with Music:
Language is a Musical thing;
it employs Rhythm and Pitch and works through Time.
Music is a Linguistic thing;
it communicates things that otherwise cannot be said
while also having room for Language itself.
Music is no singular aspect;
Music is not defined by medium,
nor is it defined by orchestration.
Music is wholly Abstract,
relating only back to itself.
Music is defined by context;
Music is a matter of perspective.
Footsteps are music, in 2/4 time.
Heartbeats are music, in 3/4 time; this defines "swing" feel.
A Clock is music, in 1/1 time at 60 beats per minute.
A year is music, in 365.25/1 time at 1 beat per day.
The duration of the Moon's orbital period and Day are a Unison; 1:1.
The four Galilean moons of Jupiter orbit with the resonance of Octaves; 2:1 ratios of wavelength.
The ratio of the lengths of Mercury's Year to it's Day is nearly a Perfect Fifth; 3:2.
Music is implicit.
Music is mystical.
Music is a Metaphor manifest,
for the nature of the Universe;
even the very word "Universe"
means "The One Song".
Music is truly intrinsic;
I am a Shaman of Music.
It is an Honor.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
*** in her eyes,
ripped stocking on her thighs
g-string, tied tight,
satin, hugging her tight lines
feeling her body
the hands don't lie
her body language feeling my vibe
her wavelength, got our signals tied
From kissing her lips
I can read her mind
her mouth is dry
While I pull her ******* to the side
stick my thumb inside
then my tongue
now she's so wet
if I slip,
I'll slide
Mar 24, 2024
Mar 24, 2024 at 10:25 PM UTC
~
*There's trouble in Alphaville:
Caution in the taxi, "I am on a journey to the end of the night."
Remember to silence love when sneaking Sally thru the alley.
There's always one too many wives on the same wavelength.
Seeing is believing in the cold ultraviolet light of a long, warm lens.
And naturally "How to Teach Your Wife to Be a Widow" is all checked out at the local library.*
~
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 6:59 PM UTC
Did anyone ever thought
about this fraternal oneness,
why we are all in this universe
and so profoundly related.
Did you know that beneath
the differences of different
people lies only one man nature.
One world and one people.
Different beliefs but one source.
Varied culture and tradition
but one humanness.
Drinking same fountain of water
from above and below the earth.
All breathing same air,
what one breathes out,
another takes in.
We blend and merge together,
resonating in synergy to bring
desired octaves in response
to a beautiful and blissful sequence,
with different forms and
different wavelength Interwoven
holistically in wholeness.
As one sleeps the other awakes,
in different geographic areas,
sharing the same sun and moon,
as the stars shine daily bears witness,
though it is only seen in part in accord
with whoever is in the light or dark,
it's brightness is shown in the dark
only when the moon shines,
and hidden in the brightness of the sun,
as one is in the light with the sun,
the other is in dark with the moon.
We still shines as the stars in the
sky even though we don't know it.
Don't mess up what is so important
in your life just because you are
a little unsure of who you are.
Be truly your neighbors keeper,
for we are all related.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 7:19 AM UTC
"It's good, but maybe you should write shorter," I was told.
Granted this was told to me by a man that believes the word artistic
to be closely related to the word autistic, but I can only assume that riding any
unfamiliar wavelength is terribly confusing, if not immeasurably difficult.
Knowing that you can confide in yourself, whether or not I'm misinterpreting
individual delegation for conscience, I believe altruism to be fundamental to
a person before growth can occur. Unless of course you're writing short poems.
And if you're curious enough to implement apathy, sarcasm is a fine starting point.
They say that if you want to master something you need to perform daily.
Accompany this with the old adage, "Love what you do," and you can imagine the potential.
Mastering an activity with love is transcendent, calm although sometimes piquant.
Passion and pleasure aren't identical, but imagine the potential.
I don't bleed ink.
It has to be an attempt at benevolence, to say that.
Extreme literary pretensions you must have to bleed out.
Writing should have a pulse. It. Should. Make. Each. Word. Count.
Yet, when this man told me that my words are good, but I should keep it shorter,
knowing not if I could or would, I became curious as to why he worried more about
length and not the content and story as a whole. Then I had to rationalize this to myself, and thought: It would be easier to convey words with images, like a film or animation.
But I don't bleed ink,
and I guess I don't bleed popcorn.
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 11:16 AM UTC
Do you know who is
a real hero?
The one who wins after
a huge failure is a
true hero
Do you know who is a
real hero?
The one who treats
success and failure on
the same wavelength
is a true hero
Do you know who is
a real hero?
The one who learns from
his failures is a true hero
Do you know who is
a real hero?
The one who stands steady
when everyone trys to
let him down is a true hero
A true hero has a strong,
sensible mind
A true hero never gives up
at the sight of defeat!
----de3pak
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
I seek you between the pixels
and the pixilated.
Electrons still smell of where you past.
Photons rearranged, your likeness
flutters into existence then fades again, as it begins to snow,..
a wrong wavelength.
If you were here, you'd see,
my hand in the air, with a foot on the couch.
An antenna stuffed awkwardly
in a sleeve. My fingers extending to the gods as..
I Ballance my loginhand technology.
Laughter iHear and twist my head, body and arms
this way and that... I'm getting close..I turn my head and..
...oh! " Hello honey, your not online?".
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 12:15 AM UTC
I like stars,
they're pretty, truly
cruelly, in irony
ebony of the night
they undull
I like mornings,
their colors like
spikes of paint,
faint but majestic
elastic light waves
of four hundred fifty
six hundred twenty
plenty, of wavelength
I like the cold,
rolled into covers
lovers entwined
blind to a frail,
stale reality of
everything, basically
I like your reading
preceding these lines
vines and strings
of things plane,
mundane that I
try to hold onto
since I'm a bit loose
...Thank you dearly
kindly
sincerely
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 12:39 AM UTC
I see your kids
running around the table
screaming
and crying
existing on some
hyperactive wavelength that
exhausted adults have
waived from their capacity.
You sat there
making an art out of tuning
them out.
Quite impressive really.
Not so much could be said
for everyone else in the room though;
the rolled eyes
or deep, hollow groans
cursing your parenting skills.
The hell with them anyway.
You sit and enjoy your tortellini
and your fifth glass of wine
no frown or smile just
the blankest face
I've ever seen in my life.
Blank as,
not so much a canvas,
for a canvas was built for
the intention of being
transformed by color.
But you,
your face is the white slate
face of an unclimbable
mountain. It is
the forgotten
empty
dusty
journal of your parents,
stuffed in an attic.
Your face doesn't ask
for pity
or ridicule,
it only asks to uphold
it's sanity amidst
all the struggles
this life has to offer.
You'll get through though,
and so will they,
Sometimes it is at
the very bottom
where people discover
their greatest strengths.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 11:11 AM UTC
A name of yours
Caress the thought
With the magical vibes
Then the musing begins
A stolen moment
An enchanted realm
An iconic reflections
A pristine elegance
A trust in life
A genuine smile
A perpetual bliss
Nurtures the soul
Finally
A confession begins
To whom
It is concerned
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 7:09 PM UTC
Rolling down the road, in a sunset town
A pop from the tailpipe and a rumbling sound.
Never before have you seen the town like this.
Friendly faces, children running. Bliss.
A sweet voice, humming over the airwaves
Sultry and definite, like the end of this day.
It's stampeding to a hault, to an end of days.
It should have always ended this way.
The raccoon, his days of mischieve cut short,
Forever stagnant and flat on the black.
No one will build him his tomb, an animal mosoluem, no funeral fort.
What will happen when I die, what will be lax?
We all stride to and fro,
Oscillatory on this wavelength God-given.
What happens when we finally go,
When our own life is not living?
Men may say that life is long for fear of the afterworld,
For that untrodded territory in which we know not of
But I say that life is too fleeting,
For the fish which swim, the birds above.
What is life, when put to music?
Can you hear it better when the melodies mix?
Is the world more rustic?
Are we fools to its tricks?
Sunset falling on faces of a sprawl,
One day over, one to end them all.
I feel an ocean rushing over me
I find myself floating at sea
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 9:15 PM UTC
I keep telling myself it's okay
But, in all honesty,
That's a flat out lie.
I can't deny it.
If I'm driving to who knows where
If I'm sobbing my eyes out
If I'm screaming at the top of my lungs
If I'm yelling at myself for ******* so badly
If I'm wishing I was someone better
If I'm hoping no ones home to see me
If I'm thinking about how much of a failure I am
If I'm pretending that I can pull it together
If I'm assuming I can break the news without losing it
If I'm sitting in a random neighborhood
If I'm writing this in the confinement of my car
If I'm hoping I can disappear for a day
If I'm completely done with all this trying stuff-
Shhhh, it's alright.
No, it's not.
If I'm set on trying again, I'm an idiot.
If I'm going to practice even harder for next time, I'm wasting my time.
If I think I can do better, I'm lying.
5 times. 3 times....
No more. Please. You'll be okay.
But am I really okay? Do you really think I can ignore the disappointment in their eyes?
....I didn't think so.
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
You say one thing
But mean another
I feign a nod
Because I know
What you aspire
You keep by the rules
I use all the right tools
We play it carefully
Though we already
Share this affinity
We do not have
To pretend
By now
We are on the same
Wavelength
We say one thing
But we mean another
Such a farce
Because we both know
We are untruthful
However
The beauty of
This deceit
Is that we are
Aware
Of the truth
Behind it
It is a lie
That we need not
Demystify
The truth about
You and I
Being coy is that
You are crazy
About me
And the other way
Around
We say one thing
But our eyes intend
Another
And the heavenly feeling
If
We are both liars;
The two of us
Telling the same fib
To one another
Then quite frankly,
At the core of the
Conversation
Were we not telling
The truth
All along?
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 4:48 PM UTC
Whenever we perceive
Good vibrations
Respect roots it’s way
We start to feel the vibrations
Not the name or the color
Not they are, whatever
The same vibration
May change the wavelength
To preserve the earlier respect
It is better
To keep a distance
Let the respect be
The form of energy
We worship
Personally
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 10:31 PM UTC
We were unknowingly stuck at a broken stoplight as I was watching you dramatically mouth the words to Use Somebody by Kings of Leon. I was cracking up in the passenger seat but all of a sudden the song changes and I'm wondering why the light is still red.
We brush it aside and listen to the next song while paying close attention to the stoplight cycles.
The third song comes on and at this point everyone is aware something is up. We look around for that line up of cars and sure enough.
Cars from behind are turning around and cars in the front of us take the safe right turn instead.
It was funny.
The way all the cars reacted at the same time. As if a plane with a banner was in the sky saying: THIS LIGHT IS NOT FUNCTIONING.
All this to say that sometimes, if not always, humans are secretly on the same wavelength.
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
Wonders of the world
is too insignificant to
what you will experience
in your life for opening
your heart to receive the
fairest impressions of God.
You are the best gift life can
ever give to the universe.
Infused in you are the
unimaginable seed of greatness.
You are for signs and wonders.
Created and endowed with
enormous and immense abilities
to subdued and have dominion
over all things created.
Your words and thoughts can change
situations and make things manifests
from something for nothing cannot
give rise to something.
Thoughts are definitely something,
and your words are powerfully alive,
you only need to properly project it
into being to give it form and bring
it into your reality.
All things resonates to you,
whether positively or negatively,
depending on the platform you stand.
Everything responds to the octaves
of your vibration within the wavelength
of the rhythm of the pendulum swinging
circumspectively overly around you.
You can do anything you want to do
if you really want to do it.
But you have to learn how to do it differently,
because you are definitely differently configured.
You are an absolute dot stretched into being,
vitalised by the power beyond the ordinary
and full of grace of the divine light.
You are the light of the world.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 7:24 PM UTC
She's wheat-skinned and coarse-haired;
In a fair and lovely world. This woman embodied
Perfection; without ever journeying on a quest to seek it.
All the other girls understood themselves,
Each and every bit of them. She simply
Forgot; to look in the mirror, to be aware of her singular quirks, to be daunted by the schools of swordfish.
*In the tribes of North Africa, communities banged drums and danced to please the Gods.
"Allah, Allah!" they'd temporarily yell to foot-stampers who seemed to invoke the spirits,
Those who took breaths of transparent inspiration and truly,
And truly, lived in that jiffy.*
The entirety of her life was an Allah moment,
For she never ceased to be lit from below, and lit;
From within. Her monochromatic soul shined a spectrum,
And she was perfect, because she didn't need to be.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC