I like poetry: I try to write poetry and it feels forced and fake...and then i don't try and I am not sure if it is poetry...but I end up liking it...
I blog a lot and every once in a while something seems poetic. I will just assume it is, cause it is mine and that is what I am calling it.
Mostly I just write grammatically tragic paragraphs...they are honest descriptions of a feeling... flawed when I am narrow minded... but rich to me, as I learn a lot about myself in sharing me... I change all the time and never want to be held back by something I wrote... I die and live over and over again on a daily basis...
I have 'lost' most of my writing, because I never think it's important enough to keep, OR I feel its destructive to hold on to. Looking back, I wish I had kept some of it around in a more permanent form. (oh well).
Here are some things I wrote, at the time it meant something or was a form of release, most of it... really just nothing except me exploring a feeling. I will ad more when I get some time to dig through what I have left.
to be...a vessel
thick with blood, swollen
my mind giving tongue
we integrate the matter.
heavy with innards
swaying our fluid
sometimes rhythmically
touching.
the size of us
turning the sea in friction
tidal and elliptic
some gestures signaling advancement
pressing the chemical receptors
laden the body of me… full of you.
~ patience
titled: tidal_lings
we.be.web.ed
to size with, teeth; as in to chomp.
chemical reaction action..minutely; friction based.
or string the strung we be.
ed-u-lately towards type-a.ssimilation space, the wasted, we be?
unattainable; entropy. be stream spewing. we.b.
prown the pawn, wrap the moth, drain the cavity.
we.be, we webbed? or be we. just be.
trapped the…construct…induct, what?
minded constantly in mal-factory mentalities of place.
fasten fastens…gathering nerves twitching.
fixed the dripping, licking.
be.d.ed lux-lumen-ocity.
emotional-provocation strutting masked avant-garde aggravation
web.ed stockings running the accomplice to a liquor store
we.be. universal in infinite circulating.
layered folded, pleated, treated. of one species.
we be conscious. be. we…web.ed the space surrounded in dark lids…closed
be.d, dream seamed, shorted…adjusted.
lust-list-less-ly interrupted a mildly functional fiction.
stimulus: response, retroactive, a retraction.
we.be none the less, sum of a whole, negative on the negation.
be.live-lividly in conversion, exist.
shifting, for distance, spitting inflamed; the denied, in echos be we.leaving?
no,weaving…maintaining knotted knitted inter-action-al cross-structs
we.be. costumed; the spider pirates.
hominid-al euphemism -ly smiling the phopia-holics
dead, be laid, lined in satin melting in our great migration
be we…burned or buried, consumed in the end.
digested…broken into fractions… lessen mass distractions.
to erode in the wake of some sequence
all we(s) intra-varient-in.evitably, after all, woven.
it ends as it begins
in a field, sugar seeds...lifting to sugar breeze...
to inhale....dragons on a night sky....
i whisper...feel now
serpent once coiled...
moves the air
(blowing kisses to me)
wings gleaming with gasoline fumes
only because i breathe...do i sense this...
(that which is not visible through retina)
under the orb there is another type of sight, glowing
it's a garden where entire groups of species are interacting
like moths in the white 'night', morning glory type flowers,
similar in construct with all opposites a shadowing and highlight depth
(so deep so far...beyond a physical reach)
there is a particular sweetness to the air
(flammable)
we get sleepy yet witness the opening scenes...
might feel like a constant
dream induced
falling
( over and over...)
finally, i am aware...that i am...
here...
(i am)
rationally i approch a sense... of being and conclude
my position may be
a minute detail
like dust floating.
(like dust...)
~ patience
sew
rattling systems surrounded by bone.
the sea bears
ghost form
waning waters...drifting always farther
constantly pulled to shore
laying motionless on the edges...of two worlds meeting over and over...
the waves...
great moon's daughter
astronomical...vision of the
hearts mythology...
some seamstress she seems to be.
~ patience
love-list-less
there is a milky lifting
here be stranded
in I ' hearted' some belief
dream exhausted...sleep.
rouse gallantly...dancing...
magnificent being....
the fruit of seed.
~ patience
spiritul sci fi
looking thousands of years ahead for nano flat lands...
some fiery exit...to miles of man-made organic mimicking...
a future adventure...surrounded by everything...all force is destruction...
air locks...and fears of imploding...
fingers do a lot of stirring...
looking for imaginary buttons
release us
~ patience
a pattern for duplicating the sequence
galactic...and reaching
stars, spread like bread crumbs tossed to....my eyes
do wonder, what comes when the shadow...ceases to be.
now must transform?
cursed these lands, facing my back
seeking the shining horizons...long beams....
become interference, become possibility
call the direction, east or west...either way the length of me is measured in time
sun setting... grow longer, stretch...become giants, and when we walk...
in two's...two fallowing...two leading.
we are kings,...peering always...like the apple before our starving brain
the ambient hidden direction...does persuade, softly...yet calls...
a cell, buried there among the workings of authority... genetic code...a language
before words coaxed the tongue, the lips...the heart
there was deoxyribonucleic acid, solar
energy...solar....
plexus.
the promise to come, life.
the sun, falling...once again trying to catch up to the edge of...
goodbye.
admiring
it's effect
of extension.
recreate
me.
remake
me.
yet
keep
me
suspended
in
your
knitted
discovery
umbilicaly i am
an agent of new arrival
a memory of failed fleets to shores with astral arrangements
leading to kingdoms...empty... decayed
celestial bodies with points to count from which warriors remain
remembered on walls reflecting in the
gathering watter... through cracks they did arrive, one molecule after another
only to be taken back invisible...
yet they never did loose their courage or spirit.
tossing inspiration to us all...sudden and obvious...or seeping into understanding
gathering below...twisted around what we are, unseen
given what we know...and what we dream...
they never did abandon us
as we examine our selves...a series used for mortar...rungs for guiding
each pair comprised of the basic three
a base, a sugar, a phosphate.
our ladder
to quintessence.
reach up, pull yourself
twoards their brilliance.
~patience
(this is innate)
small drops
high hopes. on the heights...
infested...black holes in the cosmic peace, eating up all wasteful possibilities,
talking...its only; la la la...which does taste a bit bitter.
annalistically questioning the theories behind such sense
in my sleep i was asking if i could make it all alone, in the middle of nowhere among stone.
more sedate and a little less willing: if I was…
wasted...submerged in that milky white substance...dissolving rosewood dreams
wading through your medicine...a brain full of preservatives
destroy all infection…much has tampered with perception
…be here and be dead…so leave...and never speak of it again
sealed off…with one glass bullet to taste…the sulfar biting...envloping...consumption
slipping and dripping from me
~patience
Dehydration
The sky is crimsoning fire,
Walking down a dirt road…
Thirsty in this Polaris topped place
A pantheon…of stars ready to appear
Spending time talking to myself
Under such a sky
Listening to my whispers…
Make you wonder where… did the time go…
Low riding, tide taking… mind waking, spirit breaking…
Perspiring
And only a mile to go…
the land is an old photograph
-patience
you might catch it on the tip of your tounge
The quiet man is thinking,
loud girl compensating
the lucid sky is falling
you feel it to?
A heart always breaking
A face always painting
Beds to make
Bread to bake
Broken glass to glue
Scars through and through
Missing love
Our secrets his lies
You wonder it to?
A world to discover
Need some time to recover
Strung out
Mellow come soon after.
Strike the brick
Wake to shake
Tying off
High tide taking
Light head making
You come unglued?
A higher place to ponder
Stick close not to wonder
The lucid sky is falling
It might land on you…
-patience
Width height depth
…whistles from passing cars…
she says, “ just babysitting”… laughs full head back…
beautiful
that place, the three dimensions…comfort, him driving, sitting next to me…
lifting my son to meet the world, tiny steps, …calling to them
timid independence, separating him from me
follow behind mother,
‘I shot J R'…all through down town
three sets of hand sitting in mom's back denim pockets
feels like
the weight of a weightless mass moving forward
static empty forward
one dimension, one flat place, the continual pace…
no between,
bottom slide…waiting
Sweeping stairs…sneaking off to the hay barn
lacy infant dresses with white ruffles,
admire hand stitched eyelet holes…
my fingers working up the arch of his neck…
calling…. “come on baby”…
unstoppable…one dimension…
feels like the edge of intangible…a heaviness contradictory to everything
simple yet,
massive in a weightless place…
immense simplicity…3 to 1
singular
-patience
nothing
here all along… through my eyes…the seen…unseen in me, made of you, existing along with these rocks, that tree, this grass… this is me and you and us we are nothing…
this moment a million moments are the same here you are, I wanted it…
I pressed for it…worked to find it …
I thought my way to a garden filled with my expectations and needs saw these things staring back at me, what did I really see in those reflections?
Scared that this is all I would ever find I walked away denying your presence..
a world that was flat, and incomplete drove me back to what I originally sought my disbelief in your absence, still needing you drifted here by chance to feel nothing
to gaze at everything here all along
Were, Are and Will.... was all along I am myself
and you… and this is us
no proper noun or word but in my need to express it I choose
nothing
I am consumed by this emptiness that needs no name
just is
-patience
