"widths" poems
776
The Color of a Queen, is this—
The Color of a Sun
At setting—this and Amber—
Beryl—and this, at Noon—
And when at night—Auroran widths
Fling suddenly on men—
’Tis this—and Witchcraft—nature keeps
A Rank—for Iodine—
3.8k
3.14 is the value of pi
Semicircle is the shape of a smile
8 is the symbol for infinity
Welcome to quantumly formed poetry.
Expressing my thoughts through cryptic theory
End of reversed evolutionary
It might not be self-explanatory
JUST Keeping It Short and Simple, M, E.
C, L, O, U, D, plus the square of three
is all that I feel when you are with Mi
Fa, So, La, Ti, Do, Re... or I mean me
Like M, A, G, I see... my world on thee.
You are my earth that is a twisted heart
I dream to be the he beside that art
Giving his best to be a romantic
Intimating through the fields of physics.
My love for you is three-dimensional
Taller and longer than diagonals
As deep as abyss, like cosmos so wide
but unbound by space and unchanged by time.
A fire started by a Maxwell's demon
Burning and shining from here to the moon
A flame so lunar and so lunatic
breaking the laws of thermodynamics.
Faring the distance at the speed of light
Lining the night skies like a meteorite
Traversing the widths of the hyperspace
Or cross a black hole just to see your face.
Escape with luck from a magnetic flux
Be right thrice a day with a broken clock
Above all that, there's just one thing I want:
To spend my last breath by holding your hand.
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 10:40 PM UTC
It was with the sun
that they drove eighteen miles to every quarter of an hour
to the port
where they put down the car and started like petals from every dead flower they saw together.
Up the steps
he tried to steal her waist for his own,
willing his arms to stretch around widths they weren't made for,
only to cement the idea that they weren't alone.
In the cabin they fell asleep to familiar films
and woke up to see the sea out of a round window
and the guarantee they won't hit land nor port
until the captain's say so on the inbuilt radio.
They came back from a grand meal
that was of Titanic proportions, tidy suits and surreal women in waistcoats,
they made love in a bed that wasn't theirs,
and he witnessed it and saw
her new print dress that caught and tore and was reduced to shreds upon the floor.
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
<Sun May 14 5:00 AM PST>
Let us be smart about this departure,
time unscheduled, yet leaving inevitable,
the sound of fabric torn, a rent performed,
a ripping, a release of the gripping, connecting
tissue of weft and weave tying parent and child
*(All of us poets, all of us comprehend,
there are two points, two buttonholes
that offer escape or farewell, when we
commence on something new, when we
pen our chest’s demands to exhale, cease the hammering*
*Perhaps, here, just after the third stanza,
the brick enormity of our selected task, on chest,
weighs heavy, boulder difficulties ahead, now fastened
and faster and faster realized, begs us, quit this essay,
return to placid, from an arrhythmia of imploding loss)*
So many fabrics, so many tears, wet and dried,
but upon commencement, the only finish line,
is another commencement, when the (mine-own) rendering
is finalized, beyond repair, when guilt gulfs overflows, flooding
plains of forever pain officiated by signed scar, “here was”
So many separations, varied and variegated,
surficial shallow surgical or plunges, widths of trickle,
depths of deadly plunges, records of inches, dates,
names, new heights inscribed, measured on a door jamb,
lost, erased, when child’s door closes permanently
Came today to the West, to Pacific Ocean entrance,
to celebrate a good boy’s ritualized threshold crossing
over into manhood, both symbolic and and realized,
but tear-up seeing the small child-man leaning in and on
his father’s larger frame, a coinciding giving & taking
no bonds are eternal, for such is life, the weft must be
warped, sundered and separated, so many reasons,
experience speaks, scars are like bandages,protecting
but deceiving, what they cover can never be excised,
a space created, that only oxygen can touch both sides
but never, ever be reperfected, mended,…or finalized
2023
San Francisco
May 14, 2023
May 14, 2023 at 10:07 AM UTC
590
Did you ever stand in a Cavern’s Mouth—
Widths out of the Sun—
And look—and shudder, and block your breath—
And deem to be alone
In such a place, what horror,
How Goblin it would be—
And fly, as ’twere pursuing you?
Then Loneliness—looks so—
Did you ever look in a Cannon’s face—
Between whose Yellow eye—
And yours—the Judgment intervened—
The Question of “To die”—
Extemporizing in your ear
As cool as Satyr’s Drums—
If you remember, and were saved—
It’s liker so—it seems—
1.8k
So fascinating black women's crowns are.
For so long we couldn't accept them,
Well if Jesus can wear a crown of thorns
you sure as hell can wear those curls, those naps,
that glory, relaxed or not.
Your crown, your choice.
"Yas natural." No.
So why is it my hair is automatically deemed less beautiful when asked if I am "down with the creamy crack" or "all natural"?
My crown loses its glisten when another black women tears me down for not bearing my natural thorns.
And yes I've always considered going back every 8 or so weeks when my curly new thorns start sprouting back in.
"You should try this product. Great for natural hair." But...
It's just that, if I am not my hair
why must it matter so much what stage it is in?
No I am not rejecting my blackness, no appropriation needed
my curls still rejoice, even if i didn't wake up that way
contrary to popular belief
I do not like my hair straight.
"Your hair gets so big. Are you natural?" No.
You call society racist for being so fascinated by our hair.
Racist for asking us to limit our hairs
heights and widths to accommodate their dress codes
Racist to change ourselves
"I love your hair. Are you natural?" No.
Well it is prejudice to deem me insecure, unnatural, and "bad hair"
because of how I "choose" to wear my crown.
Poor assumption that just because my hair is often curly and is thick that I must in fact be natural.
Hair is beautiful is various forms.
Please let me relax with my relaxed crown.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 11:03 PM UTC
In a Garage During a Storm
I am besmirched with arrogance,
Besmirched with rage,
Knowing that with every Red Neptune
succeeds rage,
That I would ever address you.
But I am that white spider that climbs to the
Top of the car’s antenna,
And with one cigarette puff drops
To the middle spine,
And with a second puff,
Drops to the coccyx.
And so, I see that
Modern airplane rise above the smog clouds
And feel humbled.
That white spider who saw through so many eyes
The leg-widths
and pulls
Of such a journey
Reflected in the metallic chrome
Of the slick monument pointing toward the sky
In such a reverential, altar-like hand
Brandished toward the stars
Now slipping away
Like the horizon that recedes at twilight.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 11:33 PM UTC
Architectured backs hide secrets in their bends,
rising up from foundations built on brown tanline sands
secured with concrete cloth, tied to posts either side
of lengths and widths.
Ask the professor, he’ll know how to demolish a building:
he’s a degree in unfolding the unnatural
and his last paper was in firming up the dunes;
with wooden poles his tests were conclusive
almost allusive as he marched on at night,
but we saw him, with others under car park, notorious, car rocking
lightly in the light, light.
Due to administration cut backs his papers were never reposted to sender
and now I’m bound by glue
that leaked from their spines and lines
of the book
to you:
we’ll never not be apart
but shall remain forever not together.
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
The solicitous Self,
with and in each exchange
of conversation's
volley of commiserating
commissary verbages
words of curbs and gutters,
owns not its guilt
knows not good will
nor for those whom shatter
in our drowning hours, unstill...
The Self is begging
for your idolatry's bastions,
wants you to find it beautiful
and superior
above any other
attention and ingestion
gorging and hoarding
the tid-bit compliments
the cloud nine glances
succulent smiles / flirtatious lick of lips
the audience pumping up
its hot air ego-balloon
to beach ball widths
a deadly kind of perdition
for you, character fool
careless and distracted
blase' as a toad on a stoop...
It is a ****
the amorous Self is
harmless, the beginning seeds
and whimsy / at flowering
in your hands:
fluff and puff intimations
child-like glee / pleasing / blowing
nonpluss dandelions
nonthreatening
in ruminations
N' stuff...
but like any ****
when it spreads and takes hold
the real estate of your time and soul
it chokes and feeds
off your serene prosperity
of peace of mind
of identity
a thief of your ideas
makes your dreams its own
It suffocates all others
behaves with dismissive airs
like you it becomes
you, who has watered
this pest and catered to its musings
like a sudden sunrise it appears
out of the blue appealing
a dandelion, quaint & demure
yet alluring
The ********** that is the selfish
solicitous thorn
knows its own nature
far too well
hides its hideous
kink so none can warn
it is a war
with Self
the attention *****
Self being compelled
as all else
a parasite to its growth
a virus and its host
what she now only has to give
in return:
assuage
her malingered spell
she breeds in you
a ghost of once you were
wastrel grime
wasted time
an empty shell
Abhorred.
Careful what the Self
is selling
the solicitudes
of obsessions
Possession
Suffocation
not much else...
No succor for the Self.
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 11:49 AM UTC
Three obituaries in a week
received from contemporary friends
reporting their parental loss,
all extraordinary lives
compressed within single column widths
and limited
to given story lengths.
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 3:52 PM UTC
When I look beyond the horizons of another day, I daydream of a time that was sealed away. We set out to become alive, walking on clouds trying to catch the infinite tide.When I gaze towards your face your eyes become undone while each glance you return tells the story of two creatures who craved the sun. We catch each other before we let out our dark. we take each hint of pain and light it in sparks. I'm dazzled by the way your widths and curves move while frolicking along the garden of passion and truth. Grab my weary hand, I have a lot to show. Focus on the stars, try and comprehend the way that each one glows. But if you ever so happen to stray from the sun I will echo these words in hopes of a face that ignites when you're still young. "You are beautiful, as beautiful as the sun. You're so wonderful, as wonderful as they come." inhale each letter and exhale your bad luck. Seal these words deep into your blissful heart, and remember the girl who was there from the start. The friend who will always be, even when we part.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 4:03 PM UTC
Could you be the one?
To stand with me
And make me cover bigger widths..
To walk with me
And make me reach longer lengths..
To hold my hand
And lead me to greater heights!
Should you be the one,
To kiss my lips
And make my hips shake with pride..
To touch my heart
And make my dreams be wide..
To tempt my mind
And make me be wise!
Would you be the one?
To make all my fears
Disappear..
To make all my dreams
Appear..
To just let love flourish beyond the
Ear!
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 7:16 AM UTC
Do you see, grasp in the nowhere and nowhen
the whole picture?
Register the tedious highs, lows, widths and breadths
before your private, iridologic rainbows?
Like grasping the rims of “allness” on the path of a forest,
letting yourself grow a vertigo, fragile and docile.
Every, every time you meet up with a person,
do you encompass in your grasp, mind’s eye, all they are, all they are,
at that one very time?
My vision dims out into dependence, when glasses leave, when the forest my attendance seeks
in utter loneliness without my harmony with it weaved.
I no longer have in survival advantage
but it feels more than right to fall, give over,
I give myself fragile, more just, and fit.
In that vulnerability I can see more than
a healthy eye can: Van Gogh’s work on my trees’ leaves.
That is what all presences, forms and life’s skies are for:
fragileness, undoneness, nothingness, reasonlessness
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 6:56 PM UTC
Touching one moment with
Hearts
Eclipsing…
Breathtaking mornings,
Evenings of brilliant stars
Among heavenly resplendences
Upon the widths of our eternal sky
These wings of space we pace
Igniting little dreams to spark
Fully embraced by the dark
Unto us the firmaments of
Lovely loving love Light All...
New niches for our Hallmark universe
Oh beloved / mother goddess lover,
Will your wonders ever cease? No Never.
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 12:49 PM UTC
I don't know what joy is and I don't think I ever did
I starved for the inches
And my lengths and widths became careless
-c.j.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
We were woollen
as the coach pulled up
alongside the C of E school
our swimming provided free
and municipal
so the stung eyes and barked, sodden ideas
were mitigated
at least if we fell
into the rank brown swells nearby
our inevitable drowning
could be offset:
the boy could swim
and was a king at buying the 5p
Highland Toffee from the machine
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 12:22 PM UTC
The blinded windows are shreds of paralysed glass. That brokenness....the hunts beyond the borders of the savanna grass. There was time when I died unable to work out this bare shell uncovered. The thousands songs that replay uncreating the moulded monsters. As the roosters awaken the unravelling dusk. At times the skies are brighter, others your voice wander within the beat of my heart. Paralleled as we are, hands widths apart extended with eyelids that feed the light across the oceans horizon. Sometimes, you will never know or read the words that are the reason. Whilst the world was against us, fuelled to make us disappear. Darkness overcame the starry eyes with lies. Despite all, I hoped you would have stayed a little longer. The fire still burned as our heads held up on the waters..... and YES when I wake up in the morning it’s always alright. The static zone of the melodious rhythm sinks below the sole of my feet. Awaking such feeling of aliveness. Sometimes love never goes away and it lights even deeper......
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC
And one day I hope to understand
how the sea ends and the earth begins
but never do I wish to meet it
because the sea’s depths stretch greater than its widths
and for many moons I let the earth seep in
and I let it build
and take away my waters
but the sea is far greater
and its unknown strength then regained its rightful place
where those islands had been
never will I know the bottom of the ocean
but if I lurk
I will cease to wonder
and will have met land
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 4:56 PM UTC
Seven trees with flowing winds
Leafs free in rooms to sky
With its known roots and kind widths
Making its own will reply
Several plans in twiggy stair
In cause to his own seeds
How i lien to thyself so fair
Asking horizon for more deeds
To connect ways to climb
Sheer growth in veins to wins
By grasp the matter clime
Leer faith into green dins
Flexures to its first leaf
A seer , round and huge
Intimate bond to evergreen deaf
Connate spirit to age & use
Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 5:54 AM UTC
I can feel the growing of a new disease.
Crept in the corner,
A dust bunny collecting my failed dreams.
I just want to fill my cup of loneliness with another artificial sweetener.
oh the feeling of Instagram,
the tap of a button and eurpihoa shoots straight through my veins,
Everybody wants somebody to admire their widths and curves, as if validation of someones admiration is the cure.
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 12:11 AM UTC
words spoken while running singing lying
or telling the truth
come in volumes lengths widths and of
a small scope
located in books on bookstore shelves
wondering or humming to see if will sell
or going to the thrift store to sell
words come love blackboards teachers
reaching up to spell a bunch on a list
for next weeks spelling test
wondering over to a museum to
watch a spelling bee
for students in grades one through three
the winner of each grade gets a brand
new dictionary and a spelling book
Words written by others in books
teach us how think see and watch
the send a book list home
for a test before the school year is out
words help us to understand what is happening
around this world
while leaving us human beings to
step back in wonder
since our children continue to make us
wonder at the words each one learns.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
I could never be a skyscraper,
never an airplane.
I could never be the Space Needle,
never the Eiffel Tower.
I could never, ever be Mount Everest,
never a California redwood.
I've a fear of heights, you see,
space and motion not my thing.
"Confront your fear," they say.
But let's face it, I just can't face it.
"Do it for me," she said.
Well, if it takes climbing the sky
to prove my love for you,
I guess I'll die trying.
Literally.
So long as we don't talk about
my even bigger fear of widths...
Feb 19, 2020
Feb 19, 2020 at 7:11 AM UTC
Contraptions enrapture
The thoughts in my head
Like the Black Widow Feds
Spin the global-wide web
Making beds
To be lied in
Belying the eyeless appliance’s
All-seeing
Spy-lids
With die kids
And ISIS’
World hunger virus
Deciding divisive devices disguised
As the iris’
Optimal optical scans
Are just scams
And we buy it
Like contraband-widths
We demand
They supply it
Reliant on intel cartel
Data pirates
Bespectacled specters
Of property private
Sectors stealing secrets
And quieting riots
To keep us compliant,
Complacent
And safe and secure
Our freedom-
Information
In their bidding war
With the state’s machinations
Harmonic convergence
To merge us as one
Motherboarderless
Servant
A mirthless,
Subservient
Permanent
Nervousness
Bliss on the verge
Of transcendence
To micro-chips
Cold, calculating,
Brain-drain
Pain-impervious
Hard-wired smiles
Like customer services
As all the while
They got us on file
If someone malfunctions
It’s to the junk pile
Of planned obsolete
Made in China deceit
Soon enough
The new stuff
Is complete
And released
To the public
Consumption
Effete, then deleted
The outdated being’s
Illogical reasoning
No longer needed
Not fiscally viable
When product placements
Make preferences pliable
No more investing in
Such unreliable
Feeling-based flesh-
Eating parasites,
Troglodytes
Nature’s blight,
Human rights
Merely an oversight
To the Lord Profits
Most prescient prophetic
Detective’s objective
A future perspective
On forced-course corrective
Behaviors unfavored
In apes
Less aggressive
And traits more impressive
To more uninventive
And more inattentive
Assembly line minds
From their vines
Disconnected
Preemptively programmed
To heed the directive
Effectively rendering
Life contraceptive
Selectively-breeding
Exceeding perfected
Like fascists on acids’
Exclusive collective
The watchers still watching us
Acting defective
Then tactfully cashing in
On more expensive
Preventative measures
To end such a pensive,
Depressive death-sentence
Condemned to a prison
Super vision’s
Sentience
Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 3:54 PM UTC