Resolutionary

The past can hang on, like unrelenting doom.
It can overwhelm and create pensive gloom.
The promise of a new year, brings hopeful change.
Resolutions cause us to life-rearrange.
If in a rut, jump-start a modified life.
Part ways with the habitual, solemn strife.
Opportunistic segue to reinvent,
And because the emotions are all but spent.
Dismiss; loss, depression, failure, and despair.
Smile, center, focus, and start to repair.
The New Year is a perfect excuse to go,
Go for whom, you have always wanted to show.

The Echo Chamber

Easy it must be,
Always looking down,
And seeing the sea,
Of many a clown.

Your trifle tower,
Sanctimonious!
Sour, the power;
That bests all of us.

Martyrdom, your glove.
Righteousness, your tongue.
From above, you shove-
Into chaos, flung.

Envious, our plight,
Of your moral stance?
You think right, this fight-
Brainwashed in a trance.

Benign Awakening of the Nine

Accept it's time, to lift head from hole.
Embrace for you and others, candor.
Battle the thief who would steal your soul.
Ignore the critic, speaking slander.
Challenge the punk whose words take a toll.
Drop the blinders and take a gander.
Allow yourself, to be on a roll.
Leave the line-leader, and meander.
Fashion your world, and a brand new goal.

Dysphoriac

All has, in the past, been done,
Cannot, thus such blot, be undone,
Neither in notice, of a moment,
Nor replace, or erase, such ding and dent.

The Traveler He

Flowing with the breeze.
Hover, where it leads.
Venture as you please.
Akin more, with weeds.

An Artist untamed,
Sprawled out in the grass,
Guitar strumming aimed-
At the grind you pass.

Bohemian, you-
Unsettle, push roots,
Status quo undo,
When pressure reboots.

Mind open and clear.
No dream negated.
Wanderlust sincere.
Thus Heart, Unweighted.

Une élève de ton coeur

Racontes-moi, mon cher, ton histoire.
Je veux entendre et tout comprendre.
Qu'est-ce que tu vois, dans le mirroir?
Es-tu content, avec l'image tu dois vendre?
Il y a la joie, ou peut-être la gloire?

Dis-moi tes rêves, qui agitent la fièvre.
Je veux toucher ton âme, et aussi le réclament.
Qu'est-ce qui soulève ton coeur, et l'achève?
Et ce qui te calmes, quelles passions, en toi, enflamment?
Pour, je serai une élève de ton coeur, et un bisou sur tes lèvres.


[Oh my!  It is absolutely true what they say, "if you don't use it, you lose it"...and I'm losing it.  It's been way too long since I've written in French.  I warmly welcome any and all grammatical corrections. It's the only way I can improve.  I look forward to reading your feedback, Thank you!  My email; elenacrystalize@gmail.com]

The Nuances of 'Privilege'

With just a name,
Perspectives have changed.
The setting is the same,
Yet Levels, have rearranged.

They condescend,
And thus me- offend.
Only Outer, alters,
So my composure, falters?

Fight the stigma-
Or, fulfill that role?
I, female enigma,
Must accept, this shifting toll?

Power, at play,
Let it not dismay.
For this, the female choice;
Be soft or strong. Thus, Rejoice!


[Note; Life, is about building one, building it up.  I embraced this concept and designed each stanza to 'build', not only in depth and intensity of significance, but also in the structure of syllables; 4, 5, 6, 7.  The title is 8 syllables, to further enhance the notion of the building of our lives,  And while the structure of syllables remains constant for each stanza, the irregular rhyme scheme, abab ccdd efef gghh, is used to symbolize the complexity of life.  For though human lives are intrinsically structured- due to factors such as; age development, career progression, experiences, etc., -they are infinitely complex because of emotional, cultural, and social aspects.  Therefore the focus of this poem, is to address one such social complexity; my personal experience with the concept of 'privilege'.]

Shelter

Come to me, one and all;
All souls, lost and broken.
No tales need be spoken.
Gather 'round my loving call.

There's free entry to my heart.
Leave all your baggage behind,
And Peace, we'll try to find,
For I can offer, a new start.

Fractured, beaten, and abused,
I cannot wipe clean your slate.
Yet for a good life, it's never too late,
Stay here, where only toys are used.

Release your sorrows in the wind,
Day by day, learn to live.
Kindness, is all I have to give,
For too many against you, have sinned.

Come to me, one and all;
Take comfort in my arms,
With me, nothing harms,
So gather 'round my loving call.


[This poem is dedicated to my Mother's unwavering love and devotion to mistreated animals]

Jigsaw

Scattered pieces strewn about.
Confusion, chaos, and doubt.
Youthful movements, try to play.
Tilt and turn in life each day.
No picture-goal, to aim for.
Piece by piece brings more and more.
Up and down and walk the feet.
Guilt.  Shame.  Puzzle incomplete.
Fit to blend.  Alien.  Freak.
The pressing days feel dark, bleak.
Smiling onward through the storm.
Pursue that elusive norm.
Close as ever, though it might,
Never settling in, just right.
Age by age and making do.
Lock, unlock, the pieces few.
Accept the mess.  Picture stays.
Defeat takes hold.  Many ways.
Life, a dull, constant project.
Then!  Unbeknownst new subject-
Missing pieces lost, now found.
The limitless views abound.
How never?  Not once conceived,
Parts missing? So long deceived!
Lovely puzzle now as whole,
Life begins, with complete soul.

Transform

On the brink of change.
Will I fall or will I fly?
Either way it'll test the range,
To self-accept, or self-deny.

Is living in the shadows,
An actual choice of life?
Drowning in the sad woes,
That blind me with strife?

Teetering on the bluff of indecision,
Do I continue the path of conformity?
Or take flight and experience vision,
Soaring in the light of life's enormity?

A Symbiotic Rapport

In the loneliest hour,
When my dark, cold world closed in-
There was you, gentle Lauer,
So near, you have always been.

You have let the light back in-
And brought warmth, of sun's shower.
Back to life!  Oh, Jocelyn-
I am, a blooming flower.

Encouraged, I can tower-
O'er flaws both out, and within.
To return, this keen power-
Is the love-task, I begin.

Torture

Heart on the side.
Leave it alone.
Comments; snide.
Insides moan.

Be better than-
Overcome it!
Here again?
Become fit.

The void consumes,
It makes and twists,
Smelling the fumes-
Of games and trysts.

Conquer the voice,
Overpower the will,
Defeat the choice,
Of inner chill.

The Obvious Religion

Out of the dark woods,
Ignore all of their skin,
Wait for that moment-
Stop looking for kin.

The truth is, in the truth.
Teach those lesser than,
Only then, can we learn,
How-to, everything ban.

So simple is, the solution.
You want a world of peace,
Want it black and white?
What's organized, must cease!

We must all of us decide,
To let it, that binds us, go...
So much for, for so little...
The Faith structure, it, you know?

You can look at me,
Instead of looking at them,
Let my art not lie.
We must not condemn.

You two, three, fight, who wins?
It will destroy us all!
Who can live, when all lose?
Forgive, your "criminal"!!

The Right Angle

Hard cut quick.
Spare the heart-sick.
Turn sharp fast.
Before I'm "past."

Does he know,
Love, I don't show?
Bleed love out,
And my truth, shout?

Love so slick.
Pause "in the nick."
Not so fast.
Passion may last.

Let him know,
How we work so?
Come about,
Or exit out?

Puncture

Vanity, obviously.
But the glass glared,
It raised the flag.
Despite my lag,
The alarm blared-
Tripped, dubiously.

Self, tested.  Questions.
Coma, no longer.
Back to life- snapped,
Thus far, napped.
Fear.  Forces- stronger.
Blades, cut.  Intentions?

Considered, end.
Half-to-year, nearer.
Oft a room so seen,
Window of life, screen.
Recesses, old and new, dearer.
Shipshape, condition, tend.

Odd the ego, how it can lie-
Or yet, unclothe the truth.
Nearly paradoxical, the scar,
Mark-replacing, saving by far,
Looks-fixated so uncouth,
But because of, onward I.

A Singsong Aside

Oh yes it's true, there are some things,

That cannot be, not changed, nor slowed.

So soft he pulls my heart the strings,

The spell must run until it's flowed.

He lives, he laughs, he loves, he goes-

He moves about, with ups and downs,

But where his love is no one knows,

I only wish, to take his frowns.

I'd kiss, and hug, and hold him too.

I'd let him win, and rant, and rave,

And yes, I'd stay with him, so true,

His love, is love, I'd always crave.

Bellow or whisper, day and night,

His hopes and dreams, I'd make my own,

If only I was in his sight,

Or if my love, to him, was known.

The Greener Side of Things

Explosion of meaning.
Fragments streaming.
So liken, enviously.
Akin, so dubiously.

Grasping and strawing.
Back-to-board drawing.
"Artists", art-making.
Genuine and/or faking.

A pun, or punt, or Pop!
Billboards showing the flowing or stop!
A traffic jam.  The records slam.
Syllables, Hit, cliche, cram!

Nameless Shadow-in-wait,
The day in sun so great!
Acknowledge stage.  Spotlight!
Righteous and indignant.  Fight!

Sell wares! Out! Out!
Truth told and sold, here about!
Blinded vision.  Self and crowd.
Yet origin ensures, all allowed.

More than make-do, 32

Never younger than now

Ever me, ever true

As I try to 'Wow'

I know, 32

Mistakes, let them go

Real friends are few

I'll learn and grow

I accept, 32

Choose, my humble way

Here onward, I do

Release and make today

I live, 32

Dream without dwelling

Forked future, start anew

And reclaim, storytelling

How I view, 32

"No Bread," the Goat Read.

Stephanie Brown.
She cannot eat BROWN.
Barley? Rye? Oat?
"Wah, wah," goes the goat!
Don't wear a frown,
My Stephanie Brown.

Stephanie Brown.
She cannot eat BROWN.
So what then stays?
Wheat? Naan? The horse, "Neighs."
Go into town,
My Stephanie Brown.

Stephanie Brown.
She cannot eat BROWN.
What can she eat,
If not Brown, or meat?
Laugh some Green down,
My Stephanie Brown.

A Fraction of...

The pool is shallow.
Your pull is callow.
You fool!  I wallow.
Heart full, I follow.

Touch, play the chords.
Cut, slice like swords.
Speak, use your words.
Spread, fly like birds.

Story of her, I'll eat.
Gory, my tale of defeat.
So I compensate.
So cursed-my fate.

Again and again, it goes.
Ask then, he knows,
The choice, he chose.
My hopes, that froze.

Billy Mr. Goat

Twilly Mr. Goat,
Wah wah you go to go-
To float in moat-
On boat in coat-
Wah wah, you flow to know.

Frilly Mr. Goat,
Wah wah you start your art-
So dote not gloat-
With note you wrote,
Wah wah, two-part your heart. 

Silly Mr. Goat,
Wah wah you leak the speak-
To throat the quote-
Devote and bloat-
Wah wah, your peak is weak.

Chilly Mr. Goat,
Wah wah you rid the kid-
...By rote- footnote-
Denote the vote-
Wah wah, a bid undid. 

Exodus

There goes father man,
Around the corner stand.
There goes brother man,
Immorality banned.
There goes sister miss,
Judging that and this.
There goes family some,
Towards it - be dumb.
There goes the joy, see?
No, stand tall and free!
There goes self-doubt then...
And so, I am.  Amen!

Strands

Color, clean, cut, dry.
Styling you; it makes anew.
Beauty, is the 'why'.

Marionette

Laughable, lovable, pretty little doll,
Sitting on a pedestal, apart from all.
Painted, portrait-ready, cute porcelain toy,
All eyes in awe, of your graceful nature-coy.
Cuddling, curtsying, a whimsical puppet,
Watchers wish not to taint, the tale of a pet.
Stifling, trifling, and advancing in vain flirt,
Separate shall you stay, and desires, inert.

Oh you, sweet Protagonist

Oh you, dearest of Authors,
How your story captivates!
For within me, the plot stirs,
And I, envy your Players' traits.

Oh you, bravest of Heroes,
How your victories resound!
For you've defeated foes,
And wrestled demons to ground.

Oh you, wittiest of Minds,
How your comedy transcends!
For me, your humor unwinds,
And my dull spirit, upends.

Oh you, tenderest of Hearts,
How your charm lovingly flows!
For it heals the ruptured parts,
And coats my core, 'til it glows. 

{Yet, oh you, saddest of Souls,
How you lack a Love in life!
Forsake not, I, am your goals,
And will lessen and share, strife.}

[Note; I was quite torn whether or not to add the last stanza and yet, ultimately I decided to include it. Almost a year later, I still find myself facing the same ambiguity thus, I added the brackets.  It seems right to leave it to you to decide.]

Home (A Song)

When it happens, it's so rare-
A moment free, free from all.
But with whom, it, can I share?
Whom then, should I call?

Doesn't matter, no one answers,
Just the constant ringing, ringing.
Guess there is no mood enhancer,
Just the mellow singing, singing.

I guess I'll just go home,
Have a little treat,
Watch an episode or two.
What else can I do?
So to bed, retreat...
I guess I'll just go home.

It's my own damn fault.
Can't blame anyone but me.
I've put my feelings in a vault,
And distanced myself, socially.

I guess I'll just go home,
Have a little treat,
Watch an episode or two.
What else can I do?
So to bed, retreat...
I guess I'll just go home.

When will this cycle break-
Of the pushing and pulling?
How much more can I take-
Of a life, so unfulfilling?

I guess I'll just go home,
Have a little treat,
Watch an episode or two.
What else can I do?
So to bed, retreat...

I guess I'll just go home.
Have a little treat,
Watch an episode or two.
What else can I do?
So to bed, retreat...
I guess I'll just go home.
I guess I'll just go home.
I guess I'll just go home.

Games

Give a little, get a little, give a little, take.
When will this war of tugging break?

Over, and over, and over, you play,
I'm over this battling, every day.

Promises, promises, you always make,
When all your smiles and concessions are fake.

Verbiage, verbiage, all you say,
For all the lies, when will you pay?

Transparent Illusion

Insignificance personified.
Vain and trivial assuaging.
Birth no affirmation,
And falsify engaging,
Thus; accept rumination,
Of forcing existence, to abide.

gone timid now

concealed,
suppressed,
rationalized,
safe-guarded,
tormented.

exposed,
emptied,
abandoned,
weakened,
devastated.

Frozen

Cyclical sentiments,
In stationary movements,
As an inner chill, torments.

Reflections Titled,
While glacially unbridled,
By this void unentitled.

Time dispatches
Vain healing patches,
Yet my soul, detaches:

As all hopes wean,
For; the Blossoming unseen
And loss, of your Green.

Parameters

Drunk with volatility.
Consumed by ambivalence.
Plagued by instability.
Requiring a balance.

Instinct and logic dueling.
Containment at a junction.
Suppression, ever-grueling.
On the verge of ejection.

Swallowed upsets, aggravate.
Raw emotion, strengthening.
To calm and ameliorate-
Reason tries compensating.

Equilibrium awry.
Turmoil, same in, as out.
As they, weaknesses, decry,
Then symbiosis, in doubt.

Revisitor

Up and down.
Smile and frown.
Here it goes again-
Always the same men.

Push and pull.
Empty and full.
There goes my heart-
Back at the start

Accept and resist.
Begin and desist.
The cycle reinventing;
Desire - unrelenting.

Old and new.
False and true.
My heart races,
While mind retraces.

Crazy and sane.
Complex and plain.
My heart flares,
And casts prayers.

New and old.
Warm and cold.
How to break through-
When falling for you?

Rhythm Afire

A fool is he who believes,
That the heart cannot be split in two,
Or three, or four, or five, or more.
The notion of a soul mate, deceives.

Even the most guarded of hearts,
Falls victim to Love's tune and cue,
On a past-burning, on the new-yearning;
A crescendo of desire of the splintered parts.

Neither insecurity nor guilt,
Can prevent that unbridled spark,
Awaiting no pause, and needing no cause,
Thus new passion, on ember-ed passion, is built.

So is it then, a curse or relief-
When the heard chords kept in dark,
Fracture and halt, inciting Passion's assault-
That courage engulfs, albeit brief?

Survivor

Time should lessen this anguish,
Slowly ease, and heal this wound,
Yet, still raw the cut, and wish
That with you, I communed. 

Time should return normalcy,
And allow for the mundane,
Yet my acts; a fallacy,
Empty as they are, inane.

Time should bring a calmer state,
And quiet the storm within,
Yet the pain, won't dissipate,
And stays, the emotive din. 

Time should ease mention of you,
Stir nostalgia and delight,
Yet, despite what is brand new,
I cannot conquer, this plight.

To Fight off Demons

Still missing you
In spite of the ever-changing view.
Hopeless it's true
Save your example, of life anew.

My truths unsaid
Kept stowed within, recesses of head.
The pleas I've plead
For a second chance, at moments fled.

Regret's too near
For what I've suppressed, because of fear.
Yet love is here
Unrequited thus, cost much so dear.

Wrestling alone
Weighing your stay, if the task my own.
Lost in unknown
For far too soon, you have from us flown.

Divergent Life

Heart divided.
A person split;
Half has died and
Other unfit.

Thoughts are cycling,
Spinning about,
Fixed on trifling,
Matters of doubt.

Rest un-assured.
Temperance awry.
Perspective floored-
A shocking cry.

Traject- unknown.
Feelings unjust,
To live one's own,
Know when to trust.

Install: You

Input error.
Ctrl. Alt. Delete.
Necessary: repair.
Searching for upgrades.  Complete.
Downloading latest modification.
Attempting to create interface.
Compatibility.  Confirmation.
Compressing software for adequate space.

[Note:  Beginning off the title, each line gains one syllable to symbolize one's ability to expand for someone else, while the staggered rhymes (1-3, 2-4, 5-7, 6-8) are an attempt to indicate the complexity of that expansion.]

Counterfeit

Stoic and unflinching reserve.
Resilient in adversity.
My alibi, you do preserve;
Empowering my sanctity.

Ever-faithful until the end.
Unquestionably trustworthy.
My hushed secrets, you do defend;
Reciprocating loyalty.

Affectionate in demeanor;
Doting, patient, and forgiving.
My many flaws, you do deter,
Thus; a love and life, worth living. 

Conflicted Nature

How does one endure the present-
When joy; lives in a future event,
Is, on unrealized goals, contingent,
And when patience, is nearly spent?

How does one: bear the stagnation;
Face the mundane, with toleration;
Maintain daily rejuvenation;
Or, calm restless agitation?

How does one create a balance-
Between the need for self-reliance,
Both in the now and in the distance,
And keep to, social compliance?

How does one: keep the goal in sight;
Remain steadfast, regardless of plight,
And yet in the pursuit, find delight,
And thus; find the path which is right?

just another

hurdle to jump
bullet to dodge
assault to endure

woe to journal
tear to mend
ailment to cure

test to strengthen
risk to conquer
fight, from allure

Underground

Turn around,
hear the sound
of The Bound-
underground:
lost, not found;
kept- in mound;
woes surround;
hope unwound;
joys resound,
mock and pound-
them, aground.
Chance will round,
to expound,
The trapped, Bound.
So astound,
be profound,
or;  confound-
too, aground.

The Fantasy

I'm dreaming a dream with no end in sight,
And holding on to it with all my might.
I've lived with you only in my mindflows,
And created countless scenarios.
This is the only way, I can have you,
And only this way, can I make it true.
But I'd rather live, in the fantasy,
Than accept, my lonely reality.

Time

My best friend.
My worst enemy.
My life, you lend;
Defined in memory.

My pain, lengthened.
My joy, too brief.
My spirit, strengthened-
They say, is relief.

My goals, so distant.
My regrets, too near.
My hopes, resistant-
To burdening fear.

My legacy, unknown.
My stability, unwell.
My flaws, outgrown?
Only you, can tell.

future, perfect

the cloud will fall,
the dust will set.
after, stand tall-
must not forget.

the ash will lie,
the rays will break.
defines the "I"-
what is at stake.

has ceased, the storm.
have stayed, the pains.
to find a norm;
all that remains.

has come, clear sight.
has formed, the quest;
to endure plight,
and to invest.

Superhero

I am standing here on the shore,
Safe, sound, and rescued,
With so many others you saved,
And selfishly, I want more.

To be touched, they say, isn't enough.
Flying in to save them,
Set the bar impossibly high,
For how, can they learn to be tough?

How do we proceed from here,
Cloaked in doubt, on the shore of hope,
United only, by the loss of you,
And our desire, that you will reappear?

For you, our gracious Superhero,
Have taken too quickly to flight,
You, on your mission, while leaving us to ours;
Beginning life again, from zero. 

Rock

Straying from my winding road,
I happened to come upon you,
A rock: hard, strong, and bold;
From atop, an intoxicating view.

Impulsivity took control.
I lost myself in your starry appeal,
Dismissing myself as a whole,
How I am, think, and feel.

The sun rose, and the stars fled.
I fell from your Romantic nook;
Unknowingly, leaving a bed,
An imprint.  The memory of it, I took.

Having already wandered off course,
I surrendered to the deviation,
Staggered ahead with clumsy force,
And found only consternation.

Ensnared in the thick of the wood,
I formed an instrument for use,
Created a new path, that would-
Cease this torturous abuse.

Somehow, arriving safely home,
I slowly recuperated, and set out;
To trek on my existential roam,
Cautious always, of turning about.

Encouraged, fortified, and driven,
I continued on my journey,
Seeking anew, for what I had striven,
And to reinvent a strengthened me.

While balancing my baggage,
And deep in constant reflection,
My eyes were pulled to the horizon's edge,
Where I sensed a once lost connection.

A familiar sight appeared before me;
I drew nearer with each new step,
You, modified, from what used to be.
So overjoyed at sight, I nearly wept.

Countless waves have visibly eroded you,
You wear the changes on your surface.
Perhaps humbled, but ever; so true,
Grounded, and with purpose.

To find you, a potential fixture,
Is a hopeful, inspiring shock.
Can we form a blended mixture?
Can you be my foundation, my rock?

Until the Scenery Changes

I am unsure when it transpired,
For it was never my intention,
But in my efforts to engage,
I have mentally retired.

A certain option made forbidden,
A default shift has taken place,
And the more I become involved,
The more of me is hidden.

The shutters may all fall away,
The doors may slowly open,
The path may clear before me,
Yet I care not, for that brighter day.

So while the lease for life is let,
And alone I am within the multitude,
I remember the comfort in logic,
But too often, in apathy I forget.

une nouvelle vie

lorsque la vie déchire ton espoir,
et tu évites de regarder dans le mirroir,
il faut rappeler, ah oui,
c'est un nouveau jour,
une nouvelle année,
une nouvelle vie.

lorsque le temps détruit tes rêves,
et tous les jours, il vole ta fièvre,
il faut rappeler, ah oui,
c'est un nouveau jour,
une nouvelle année,
une nouvelle vie.

lorsque ton sens d'humanité disparaît,
et tu perds tout le monde que tu connais,
il faut rappeler, ah oui,
c'est un nouveau jour,
une nouvelle année,
une nouvelle vie.

lorsque tu laisses tomber tous des soucis,
et ta motivation de continuer, tu oublies,
il faut rappeler, ah oui,
c'est un nouveau jour,
une nouvelle année,
une nouvelle vie.

lorsque tu attends que seule la mort,
et cette existence-ci, tu abhorres,
il faut rappeler, ah oui,
c'est un nouveau jour,
une nouvelle année,
une nouvelle vie.

In the Building Process

A foundation's breaking-ground,
Deserves no celebration.
It is not until the dedication,
With ribbon-cutting and elation,
That recognition should abound.

It is preemptive to commend a keel,
Not yet embarked, seen no sites,
Nor faced, any maritime plights.
Before it receives any passage rights,
It must be christened, by the captain's zeal.

During a trial, a defendant rejoices not,
Not while arguments are made,
Witnesses are called, or evidence is laid.
Only when an acquittal is conveyed,
Does joy triumph, from a closed plot.

To a structure, ship, and case, I am akin,
For while in the blueprint phase,
Compliments, are unwarranted praise.
I therefore plead, that you await the days,
When I am prepared, and feel genuine.

Polyhedron

Venezuela
Unacceptable
Tragic
Taxing
Grasp
Disconnect
Defies
Logic
Éternité
Quatsch
Inadvisable
Incroyable

Self-restraint

A ferocious animal, am I.
Subdued, only by a cage.
There is volatility in my eye;
Passion, irritation, and rage.

Caution, when drawing near!
Approach with a gentle voice.
For I will feed, off your fear.
Yet proceed, if that be your choice.

As a peaceful creature, I may appear.
As you inch within arm's length,
You begin to question, why I'm in here,
And the power, of my strength.

Bold and overconfident, you jeer,
Poke, prod, and antagonize,
Oblivious of my subtle growing leer,
And ignoring, how I agonize.

I let roar a warning cry.
As the bars fall to dissipation,
Tremble!  For the cage was but a lie,
An illusion only, of my own creation.

Ready, Set, Single!

When the whistle blew,
I took off running,
Jumping every hurdle-
Impatiently, it's true.

With the race underway,
I dash and dodge,
Adapting as I go,
Rivals, will rue this day.

Wet shirt, fists, and brow,
And heart pounding,
Slow me not,
For I'm nearly there now.

Within my sights, my due.
Nearing my goal and victory.
Though in my haste,
I forgot to look, for you.

Anchor

Above, but no better.
Ahead, yet so near.
Attuned, though unclear.
Amidst, lonely however.

Brooding, the universe.
Begrudging, social laws.
Banishing, all flaws.
Beginning, to converse.

Cleaving, my rancor.
Centering, the goal.
Claiming, my lost soul.
Cuddling, my anchor.

Blink

Why do I hope: to see a change
When I open and close my eyes;
To cease the visible lies
Or; to make a favorable exchange,
When I lack the deed
Of the trade, for what I do not see?
Surfacing the depths of me
May illuminate, this unseen need.

illusive you

an echo on the hill
a mirage of yearning
fruition of will
a soul, discerning

an intangible dream
a wisp of a cloud
grasping a gleam
of consciousness, in shroud

a fragment of thought
a spark of flame
the corporeal sought
a form, and name

a droplet of musing
an idea of reflect
the concept, amusing
yet remains, disconnect

Invisible Color

I am neither white nor black,
My skin may mislead you,
I despise the social slack,
So, I've colored myself anew.
I am sickened by all the flak;
Thus, my aim is to emulate the Few.
If you can't rise up, then hide in back.
Let us seek only, what is true.

Thinning

I am shedding my exterior,
Ignoring the Inferior,
Examining my interior,
And aspiring to the Superior.

I am weighing the boundaries
Of the Political miseries,
Reviving my memories,
And hopefully embracing reveries.

I am re-centering my loyalties,
Restricting anxieties,
And enlivening my curiosities,
By inhabiting the World, of possibilities.

Plain Sight

The feign of disdain,
Waxes and wanes.
The stain of pain,
Is all that remains.

The fright of plight,
Lessens all might.
So incite what's right,
In the dark of night.

Paris

I am reminded again,
Of walking alongside the Seine,
And while her currents flow,
Resurface, old memories si beaux.

My heart pines for the place,
Of the colorful Bohemian space,
And being amidst, many a artist's skill,
On that Sacred Montmartre hill.

Gustave's innovative design,
Lingers heavily in my mind,
And my soul will again be well,
Strolling once more, sous La Tour Eiffel.

CheckMate?

When I fell and bled,
And through all the tears I've shed,
You, were never there.

When I laugh and smile,
And realize, I am worthwhile,
You, aren't anywhere.

When my heart ceases to falter,
And paired-up, pursues the altar,
Why is it now, that you care?

I, January's Child

While the temperature plummets,
And icicles cling tightly,
Whether atop the summits,
Or below, it frosts nightly,
And the chilling winds surround,
As snowflakes, fall to the ground.

Exhaled breath lingers in air,
All's silent but my footsteps,
And there is white, everywhere.
Winter hopes; that seen, its depths,
By way of a promenade,
In the still, brisk, wooded quad.

When cozy-calm, wrapped, at home,
Lying by a heated source,
If returns the want to roam,
I think, of the traversed course,
And remember the silence,
And the sublime transcendence.

A willing patron, was I,
Despite the numbing coldness,
For on its truth, I rely.
And so, I: am a witness,
To Nature, provoking thought,
And; self-reflect, on sights sought.

modus operandi

writhing, rupturing,
red-worsting.

ensnared.

boiling, laboring,
blood-bursting.

up-flared.

deep-darkening, endangering,
death- de-firsting.

prepared.

terrorizing, all-tapering,
tremor-thirsting.

thus, bared.

Wild Card

Fedora over an eye.
Pleather boots reflecting.
Gear, tight-black, mid-secting.
Cig' smoke rising high.

Smirk, snide and fixed.
Skin, soft and tempting.
Sashaying and contempt-ing,
With stirring danger, betwixt.

Wit, sharp and ready.
Influence ubiquitous.
Caring and yet callous.
Armed to the teeth and steady.

Ploy in mind, leading.
Rivals envy and despair.
Searing them, with only a stare,
So no sense, in competing.

saisons sans toi

à endurer les mois,
vu du toit,
malgré du froid,
à cause de toi.

un changement des couleurs,
plus fort le pâleur,
en dépit de la chaleur
s'accrochant aux pleurs.

tombe la logique,
perdu dans la magique,
des souvenirs atypiques,
et, de vivre seul, tragique.

[a translation:
to endure the months,
seen from the roof,
despite the cold,
because of you

a change in color,
stronger the pallor,
in spite of the heat,
clinging to tears.

falls the logic,
lost in the magic,
of atypical memories,
and, to live alone, tragic.]

Et voilà, la Complexité

La tristesse remplit,
Mon âme forte, qui sourrit,
Malgré toutes les tragédies.

[a translation;
The sadness fills,
My strong soul, that smiles,
Despite all the tragedies.

[Note: the syllables for each line increase: 5, 6, 7.  The title contains 8 and also that "complexité", is french for "complexity", which rhymes with the ending of each line; this is to further drive home the point of the complexity of myself.]

Pillow

Insides churning,
Heart yearning,
Thoughts burning,
Thus, head, turning.

The Night

World, far away.
Guests, all at bay.
Cloaked, in quiet.
Candle, well lit.
Covers, keeping.
Kitty, sleeping.
Muse, a-pleading.
Pen, proceeding.

[Note: 8 lines, half of that is 4, 4 syllables per line.  Half of 4 is 2, thus a 2 syllable title.  The halves are to indicate "the middle", thus what occurs "in the middle of" the night.]

Ode to W.W. (a haiku)

Golden 'dils pleaded
your sonnet writ, enticing
dance, of my inked soul.


[A tribute to my favorite poem, "I wandered lonely as a cloud", by my favorite poet, William Wordsworth. Update*** I thought it might be interesting to note that I got a tattoo with W.W.'s poem as a major theme.  His poem inspired me to start writing poetry (in 1998). ]

Morning (a haiku)

Off the frosted 'sill,
pouncing, gnawing, disrupting.
Heart, stirred.  Mine, warms yours.

Loosen Your Grip

I am letting you go,
I am setting you free,
I know what I know,
That we, are not to be.

I am releasing your claim,
I am rebuilding my heart,
I know that my aim,
Is to form in me, a new start.

So go on, take flight,
Let the wind take you,
And with all my might,
I will recreate what is true.

Leave no remnants behind,
Cease my stifling hope,
Occupy no place in my mind,
So that in your wake, I can cope.

haven

the cool calming breeze caresses my face
the subtle ascending hill embraces my stroll
the fenceless white gate strengthens my pace
the quiet arriving storm eases my soul
the rustling shaded leaves take the harmony
hair and clothing flowingly cling, comforting me


[Whenever people say, "go to your happy place", this is where I go.  It isn't a real place, but then again, does it need to be?]

The Tug

I love you here.
I hate you near.
Please, stay by me.

Open your soul.
Your words are old.
Bear my crazy.

Lost without you.
I, found me too.
Need your guidance.

You, rise above.
This, how I love.
Grant me patience.

Glass

With my face pressed sideways against the glass,
Ahead and behind are equally unclear.
How then do I avoid repeating the past,
And toward a promising future, steer?

Only the fleeting present is visible.
Too fragile and narrowed is the sight I see.
How then do I obtain what is tangible,
And shatter through, what blocks my destiny?

Barriers

All the doors have closed.
Kept inside, the clutter piles.
Longingly gazing out the windows,
Dreaming, of existing for miles.

All the lights have dimmed.
Even the stars, have lost their brilliance.
The cloak of a darkening whim,
Defeats the will for resilience.

All the sounds have muted.
The once roaring symphony of hope,
Continues, as a hum polluted.
Muffled, can yet it stir a misanthrope?

Is there, One?

How long must I wait,
To find the One for me,
To find a true mate,
And live with, happily?
Is there someone, who can bond?
Is the One, ever so fond?

How does one attract-
A fitting match, to pair-
Up with what is lacked?
To join in life and share?
Is there someone, who will say?
Is the One, heading my way?

What self should I show?
Be more easy-going?
Smiling, I know-
Keeps the discourse flowing.
Is there someone, who can see?
Is the One, entranced by me?

What makes me believe,
A complement exists?
I just can't conceive,
Why hope for love persists.
Is there someone, who will care?
Is the One, even out there?

Displaced

This is not my heart.
I'm not so haphazard.
I'm unlikely to act on it.
I'm thinking it wise to halt it.

This is not my skin.
I'm not who I seem.
I'm ripping and tearing through it.
I'm existing as a stranger within it.

This is not my body.
I'm simply a borrower.
I'm waging a war against it.
I'm needing to be rid of it.

This is not my residence.
I'm a wandering refugee.
I'm not a fixed tenant at it.
I'm relying on moving from it.

This is not my life.
I'm living someone else's.
I'm eager and ready to return it.
I'm learning how I've out-grown it.

This is not my summation.
I'm so much more still.
I'm irked by what's composed it.
I'm surviving, to expand it.

Tectonic Shifting

When everything is about to change,
And the effects of actions unfold,
For comfort, onto what do we hold,
If the repercussions can derange?

When the very earth beneath us quakes-
The foundation of our knowledge,
To what allegiances do we pledge,
If our bond with gravity, shakes?

When our surroundings seem foreign,
And sense of self, too disconnected,
How can the chaos be corrected,
If yet, another change, comes again?

Future Unclear

Locked down,
Shut in,
Trapped,
Barred,
Not a key holder.

Stuck,
On edge,
Unable,
Faulted,
Mistakes, to shoulder.

Defeated,
Broken,
Censored,
Wallowing,
As life feels colder.

Unsure,
Ill-prepared,
Lost,
In shambles,
Dread getting older.

The Survivors' 'Fragrance'

The wafting aroma that permeates,
Is essential for all who endure,
Consider it, a necessary cure,
For all of your needs, it satiates.

It is the sustenance that we all need,
It is, on which the nose and lungs depend,
Even if, it repulses you, pretend,
For to its provisions you must concede.

The sweet smelling scent the others apply,
Is sought after and thoroughly enjoyed.
Despite, by the reeking stench, you are annoyed,
To ward off your own doom, you must comply.

So mist yourself, sparingly, if you must,
But disregard your hesitations,
As to avoid any provocations,
About the smell that fosters disgust.

There is no avoiding the assault,
Upon the strongest sense we all possess,
For there is a daily reminder to address,
The foul odor you refuse to exalt.

Middle Ground

Always the teacher.
Rarely the student.
Forced, to play preacher,
And to stay prudent.

'A port in the storm'.
Guide for the lost,
Compelled to reform,
The Waywards, crisscrossed.

Enough is enough!
Improving tires.
They're not 'up to snuff'.
Are they all liars?

Immature children,
Seem to rule the world.
What can be done then,
When within them, whirled?

L'au Delà

You, who cannot sense the subtle changes,
Qui arrivent avec le nouveau vent,
Should not be suprised when exchanges,
Le présumé, pour ce qui est transcendant.

So, to those who are easily manipulated,
Écoutez! Je suggère que vous faites attention.
Prepare and expect to be incapacitated.
Et hors de vous, je ferai une démonstration.

Ich Bemühe Mich Sehr

Glaube ich, was ich verstehe?
Bezweifle ich, was ich sehe?
Ich höre viele Fragen,
Aber was soll ich sagen?

Menschen macht ihre eigene Wahrheit,
Und Meinungen im Laufe der Zeit,
Und diese Dinge formen, wer sie werden.
Aber in der gleichen Weise, werden wir sterben?

[My German is a little rusty, so if you find flaws, please let me know.]

Alliterative Answer

How did I become this,
Diving deeper downward,
Into the dark abyss?

How is remorse reigning,
With regret always near,
And restraint rivaling?

How is isolation,
Albeit ill-conceived,
My ill occupation?

How naive not to know,
No answer could be found,
In denying pain so.

How cumbrous the closet,
Of klutzy skeletons,
Cloaked and kept secret.

How illuminating,
Life's indications,
Of immense idling.

How needless and inane,
All the numerous nights,
Needing notice, in vain.

How ghastly life has gone,
So gilded and garish,
Guilted, by years bygone.



[While each line of the poem having 6 syllables serves to symbolize the chaos and confusion of my life, the title having 7 syllables symbolizes that it is through the identification of a problem that one can make positive changes.  My intention was to portray the balance of disorder (six syllables), with order (seven syllables).  What is my problem you might ask?  The alliterative letter, that is the most emphasized letter, from each stanza, spells it out.]

Cleaving

Letting go of all that binds,
Breaking free from what confines,
And blurring the social lines,
Will shatter that which defines.

Increasingly disconnected,
And inane counsel rejected,
Defenses are thus erected,
For the inward path trajected.

Success lives in the strategy,
Of feigning an effigy,
Of moving towards homology,
And striving for synergy.

It is preferable to be wise,
By resorting to ample lies,
Which maintain a peaceful guise,
And conceal all I despise.

Down

Pert, pretentious, privileged,
Overwhelming, obtrusive, and owning onlookers.

Unyielding, unemployable, unhinged,
Narcissistic, nihilistic, and nudging nitpickers.

Defensive, delusional, diverged,
Excessive, ensnaring, and enticing earth-shakers.

Destiny decided: a ditch, drugged, damaged.

[Note: My worst "flaws" pointed out.  The first letter of each line spells a word + the title = how I feel about them.]

Conform!

Shush! Shush now!
Utter no sound.
Do not disavow,
Your role. You are bound.

Cage your dreams.
Rein in your drive.
Abate the schemes,
You might contrive.

Confine your nature,
To the prescribed,
From the legislature,
That demands it, imbibed.

Adherence, mandatory.
Deviation, prohibited.
Restrict any fury,
That begs, exhibited.

Iconoclast, be not!
Aim for what parallels,
The societal plot,
Which stifles, who rebels.

Individuality, remit!
Mindless, you must be.
And so submit,
To the Tyrants' sanctity.

My Own Protector

Disheartened.  A connection sought.
Attempts made to bridge the gap,
And for reciprocity, seemed naught.
For into my soul, none can tap.

The rapport appears one-sided,
Others' motives easily are-
Perceived, when subdivided,
Yet mine, for them, hardened-afar.

If being forthcoming holds the key,
And efforts at honesty are made,
Yet falling on deaf ears, every plea,
How then, is there an even trade?

Expelling sentiments in the vain hope,
For my own personal therapy,
Offers no true solution to cope,
If understanding's lost inextricably.

Perhaps then it is preferable,
To: restore the peace that is tearing;
Refuse candor as the principle,
And; diminish otiose sharing.

An enigma, never understood,
Should retreat and slowly disappear,
And reject possibilities that could,
Develop from relations so near.

I shall erect a fortress for defense,
Against the ineffectual arsenal,
Of the feeble endeavors whence,
Good intentions defy what's rational.

If feigning concern remains my curse,
In order to appease the multitude,
Then all my ambitions, I'll reverse,
And suffer in the silent solitude.

Abated

So much stock in a moment,
A moment aligned with perfection,
To grant complete atonement,
And account for all dejection.

Every detail, purposeful.
Impulsivity unable to sway.
The moment, fixed and hopeful,
Will, all the torment, allay.

Obsessed only with the arrival,
Of expectations realized,
Ignoring any hope of revival,
Of hindrances capsized.

The sacrifice of the present, worthwhile.
Justifiable for a means to an end.
Thus acceptable, others, to beguile,
And conceal any attempt to portend.

When at long last the occasion presents,
And the fruition is at hand,
A nagging hesitation prevents,
Defying an aim, so planned.

Overlooked was the factor of legacy,
And remembrance of the strategy derived,
For absolute perfection is a fallacy,
Thus the reasoning, viewed as ill-contrived.

The pursuance of perfection, laudable.
Perhaps, in which with logic, enlightenment lies,
For total attainment is implausible,
Thus grounded in reason, the moment, dies.

In Need of a Tailor

What was once new, vibrant, and tightly spun,
Is now worn, faded, and thinning.
The threads are slowly unraveling,
And the seams are coming undone.

The string that proudly left its spool,
Set on stitching an intricate design,
Has become enmeshed, forced to consign,
And pine for the versatility of tulle.

Is it possible, to patch the tattered,
Restore the original needlework,
Redress the rips that I, the wearer, shirk, 
Or reinvent the fabric that is battered?

Have the darning tools become too rusted,
Or tangles too knotted for the needle,
To mend the snagged material,
That is now démodé and dusted?

Dream State

"I think this is quicksand.  Here, take Roxy."
"What about you?"
"First things first."

"Are you crying?  What's wrong?"
"'What's wrong?'  How can you ask me that?"
"I know it's sad, but you didn't even know them.  You've got to move on."
"'Move on'?  Move on?!  To what?  To a place where people set a store and themselves on fire?  A place where people are too angry, too bored, or too stupid to realize the consequences of their actions?  I may not have known those people but they were in my store.  When the creepy regular lady got agitated I tired to calm her, but who could have known fire could spread so quickly?  My instincts said to get out, so I did.  She locked the door behind me, locking her and all the others inside my tiny store.  I ran to the store across the street and screamed, 'Fire.  My store.  I need an ax.  Got an ax?'  Do you know the only times when people scream, 'Do you have an ax?, is only in horror movies.  When I got back to my store, ax in hand, ready to fight for the victims' escape and my absolution, I realized it was too late.  It was completely dark inside.  All I could see was the engulfing flames,  hear the crackling wood, and smell the charring flesh.  Some onlookers say they are haunted by the screaming... for me, it's the silence.  So, tell me how, how... do I move on?"

Sitting next to an Ex who is attempting to find a picture of him and his new significant other.  He says, "I'm looking for a picture of us."
"'Us?', I ask,  "Come to think of it, are we 'friends'?  Where are you right now?"
"Ummm, driving."
"'Driving'?  Where?"
"To a uhh...vintage, uhh store.."
"Convincing."

After we danced in my friend's room to a Janet Jackson music video recorded on a VHS tape, she conceals it in a restaurant to-go container, and says, "If anyone asks, there are books in here."

"Trust me, I've heard a lot about you, especially from Andrea."

"Oh, so now you want to try my peppered caramel rice, even though you think I don't respect the naked dead?!"

"I cut you with my tail, B*tch!"

"The WIC offices in the city have bulletproof windows."

"...since I know enough about HTML..."

"In an attempt to avoid the cadaver, they left before she even became a cadaver."

"Always look for the frog in you!"

"An ear full of beer..."

"I thought it might give us away with no cheese or tomato."

"Princess Aniyah, charming.  I've heard of your family, they are (scoffs) handsome." 
"Royal Amir, I've heard of your family as well, and they are also, "handsome".

"With all your talk of popularity contests and morals you punked out, you settled for mediocre when you really are better, you undersold yourself."

"Are you alone? Is Sylvia here?"



[Quotes taken from my dreams.  Note: do not take these quotes as fact or as my opinion, they are simply random phrases spoken within a dream.]

Pour Aujourd'hui

L'heure de minuit.
En peur, je conduis,
Embrassant la nuit,
Une évasion, je poursuis.

Malgré le bruit,
Que dans moi, détruit,
Tout ce que je suis,
Je me reconstruis.

Cependant, je m'ennui,
De cette petite vie, ah oui!
Mais qui est-ce que je suis,
Si de cette vie, je fuis?


[A translation:
The midnight hour.
In fear, I drive,
Embracing the night,
An escape, I pursue.

Despite the noise,
That in me, destroys,
All that I am,
I rebuild myself.

Yet, I am bored,
Of this small life, oh yes!
But who am I,
If from this life I flee?]

Unabashed (A Song)

As the shadows begin to grow,
And the darkness starts to fall,
The truth will creepingly show,
As the danger comes to call.

With the most formidable force,
And fervent of intentions,
The craving will set its course,
Barring all deviations.

All the lights are out in the world,
And it's time for the witchin' hour,
So let your passion unfurl,
And show them all your power.

The beast from within emerges,
Bending and breaking the cage,
Every torn thought converges,
Seizing control, lead by rage.

All the lights are out in the world,
And it's time for the witchin' hour,
So let your passion unfurl,
And show them all your power.

With every restraint, broken,
And regret nowhere nearby,
The truth will be spoken,
And impossible to deny!

All the lights are out in the world,
And it's time for the witchin' hour,
So let your passion unfurl,
And show them all your power.

All the lights are out in the world,
And it's time for the witchin' hour,
So let your passion unfurl,
And show them all your power.
So let your passion unfurl,
And show them all,
Show them all,
Your power!

The One I Desire (A Song)

It seems only natural,
That I should be drawn to you,
Your life just seems so full,
'Cause you're starting it anew,
And you try to lessen every flaw.

You've faced so many difficulties,
You have conquered many a storm,
Still possessin' admirable qualities,
And you somehow surpassed the norm,
So in you I am who believes.

You're the one I desire.
You're the one I adore.
Of you, I could never tire.
You're the one I'm looking for,
You're the one I desire.

I look to you as my example.
You're where I'm striving for.
Try to make my dark past null.
Piece together my life that's tore,
And attempt to make it somehow substantial.

You're the one I desire.
You're the one I adore.
Of you, I could never tire.
You're the one I'm looking for,
You're the one I desire.

Even if you never want me,
Even if you never notice,
The things in you I'll always see,
I'll go on pining regardless,
Hope that one day, "we" might be.

'Cause you're the one I desire.
And you're the one I adore.
Of you, I will never tire.
You're the one I'm looking for,
Because you're the one I desire.
Yes you're the one I desire.
You're the one I desire.
You're the one I desire.

A Life in Logic

My depression is a tightening noose,
By which, I am nearly hanged.
The concept of breaking loose,
Is one, I've repeatedly harangued.

What then is the reason to live?
Countless replies I have heard.
Yet insufficient are they that others give,
Which deem the exit strategy absurd.

Irrelevant are the references to the divine,
The pursuit of happiness, a daunting task,
Purely for loved ones, a pressured design,
And feigning joy until normalcy, a mask.

Numerous years that have been consumed,
Twisting and turning to unveil the mystery,
Undimmed and ambivalent thoughts assumed,
Despite no end to the mental slavery.

I must believe there is a universal reason,
One based in truth and not just a placation,
That empowers me to endure each new season,
With genuine effort and true dedication.

When late one night, while lying perfectly still,
When my mind most often churns,
Enveloped in darkness, drifting, until,
An epiphany arrived, addressing my concerns.

Logic is based on data's veracity.
Through patterns it predicts occurrences.
It adheres to fundamental objectivity,
And disregards emotional influences.

Emotion defies logic, habitually,
Abandoning reason and practicality,
Therefore, decisions made emotionally,
Could be capricious and reached hastily.

Perhaps there is no grandiose explanation,
That the general reason for life, is to live,
Which renders inane, all deliberation.
Thus dare I defy logic, with actions emotive?

I'll Be the B*tch (A Song)

How many times can we have this fight?
It’s always the same thing, never ending.
'Round and around and around in circles,
Without hope or a prayer in sight.

You say that we have too much history,
And no matter what we’ll make it through,
But saying’s not doing, you shut yourself down,
I need a release from this misery.

I’ll be the b*tch!
I’ll be the monster!
I’ll be the one to take the blame.
You can tell all your friends that it was me,
Whatever it takes for my liberty!
It’s over,
It’s over,
It’s over.

Countless nights I’ve tried in vain,
To find something to make us work,
But you the lack courage, I’m lacking the patience,
The answer is perfectly plain.

I’ll be the b*tch!
I’ll be the monster!
I’ll be the one to take the blame.
You can tell all your friends that it was me,
Whatever it takes for my liberty.
It’s over,
It’s over,
It’s over.

I’ll be the one to walk away.
I’ll be the one with the last say.
You can b*tch about me,
But you’re finally free!

So I’ll be the b*tch!
Yeah, I’ll be the monster!
I’ll be the one to take the blame.
You can tell everyone that it was me.
Whatever it takes for me to finally be free!

I’ll be the b*tch!
I’ll be the monster!
I’ll be the one to take the blame.
You can tell everyone that it was me,
Whatever it takes for my liberty.

So, I'll be the b*tch.
So, I'll be the monster.
As long, as it's over.
We’re over.
It's over.

Who I Am (A Song)

So you think that you're so clever,
That out of all others you know me more,
But you could dig forever,
And never reach my core.

You boast and brag about me,
Telling people passing that I'm yours,
But the truth is something you don't see,
And you'd be the one who only ignores.

You don't even know (3x's)
Who I am!
You don't even know (3x's)
So don't pretend.
You don't even know (3x's)
All the lies!
You don't even know (3x's)
What's inside.

'Cause you're more in love with the picture of us,
Preferring just blissful ignorance,
But that cannot be a way to build trust,
And so must I seek my own deliverance?

You don't even know (3x's)
Who I am!
You don't even know (3x's)
So don't pretend.
You don't even know (3x's)
All the lies!
You don't even know (3x's)
What's inside.

So should I even try to raise a bridge?
Lessen the wedge that between us grows?
Translate myself for you to acknowledge?
Or pledge to try til we merge our souls?

You don't even know (3x's)
Who I am!
You don't even know (3x's)
So don't pretend.
You don't even know (3x's)
All the lies!
You don't even know (3x's)
What's inside.

You don't even know (3x's)
Who I am!
You don't even know (3x's)
So don't pretend.
You don't even know (3x's)
All the lies!
You don't even know (3x's)
What's inside.

To Him. Me, to Thee. (Timothy)

My life, such as it is, I give.
In exchange for all of my strengths,
For you to thrive and truly live,
I will bear your pain, to any lengths.

Please do exhaust my intellect,
My humor, hopes, and dreams,
Transfer thoughts of shame in retrospect,
And I, will suffer your existential screams.

Indulge yourself in utter bliss.
Enjoy life with new vim and vigor.
Feelings of self-doubt, do not miss,
For I will own them, with undaunted rigor.

For all this, the only payment I require,
Is a smile on your face and lightened mood,
Because despite the hardships I would acquire,
They're worthwhile, for your elevated attitude.

Nonsensible

A smiracle uncoverifies truthlessness.
The splicicle denystagmus of lieabilities,
Shedits evidense writtinvoluntarily visagely.
Whispertinent secretin, juxtaposeur!
Savintage bestablished classiconoclasm.
You dardently revoltage conformation.
Shaimlessly abadonating my lovelocity.
Isolace temporarity confinesse,
Your captivital I'll breache!


[The principle of this poem is the merging of two opposing or seemingly unrelated words to form a new word, thus creating a new idea.  For example, merging "nonsense" and "sensible" form the title of the poem, also explaining that while the poem may seem like "nonsense" in that the each word alone has no real meaning, there is a deeper message within the entirety of the words, thus it can also be "sensible".
 
I was inspired by Lewis Carroll for the concept of this poem.  He is an author and poet best known for "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland".]

streaming

the brink of insanity,
is painted,
written,
sung.
it is a beautiful place,
a precipice,
overlooking a horizon of potential.
it is where Artists gather,
for they feel too strongly,
express too passionately,
to ever be content,
amongst the un-tortured.
with emotions as their guide,
it may just be,
only,
the art,
the need to create,
that abates,
the fall.

The Futility of Resistance

In a world full of fragmentation,
The collective drive for perfection,
Is the loftiest aspiration,
And an admirable direction.

All the commendable qualities,
Possessed and portrayed by far too few,
Are assessed to boost efficiencies,
And acquired for flaws to eschew.

The selfish hoarding of attributes,
Will become most inconsequential,
Through nullifying all vain disputes,
And absorbing improved potential.

The percussive expansive presence,
Diffuses unquestionably forth,
Adapting the enriching essence,
Leading to a constant state of morph.

It is useless to resist the force,
That transfers chaos into order.
Knowledge is the unwavering source,
That empowers, purging disorder.

Continuous flow of consciousness,
Links the acts and minds in unison.
Fears allayed.  The focus on greatness.
Time spent on mortality, none.

Not one trivial opinion sought.
Deliberating no decision.
No internal war for power fought.
Thus, arriving at pure precision.

As for individuality,
An insignificant price to pay,
For there is a greater destiny,
That the unified need to convey.

The inferior, irrelevant.
Detraction from perfection dismissed,
The collective will be triumphant,
By adding all your distinctiveness!


[A not-so-subtle tribute to the philosophy of the Borg. "The Borg are a fictional pseudo-race of cybernetic organisms depicted in the Star Trek universe. The Borg use abduction and 'assimilation' (forced cybernetic enhancement, connection to the hive mind) as a means of 'achieving perfection'".  Also, take note that there are 9 stanzas and each line contains 9 syllables.  The reasoning for this is because in many cultures throughout history, 9 is considered to be a "perfect" number, fitting, considering how the Borg strive for "perfection".]

The Egoist Manifesto

Superior to all.
'Second to none.'

Pride on call.
Paragon of fun.

Intellect intact.
Identity reputed.

Tributes exact.
Traitors refuted.

Engage in competing.
Emulate preceding!


[The most extreme level of self-confidence is fundamentally unobtainable however, the pursuit of this extremity will only improve one's diminished self-esteem.  Also, take note of one of life's biggest motivators spelled out using the first letter of each couplet.]

Whimpering Wildlife Woefully Wasting

Left-over lizards, lopsidedly limping,
Paralyzed opossums, painfully pacing,
Damaged deer, dangerously darting,
Ravaged raccoons, riskily retarding.

Unlucky liabilities, gloomily lingering,
Inpatient passengers, purposely passing,
Determined drivers, distractedly departing,
Unrecognized remnants, irrationally smarting!


[Intended to draw awareness to the tragedy of maiming animals on a road.  The alliteration is used to take a, in my opinion, terrible occurence, and make the message less threatening and therefore more likely to be considered.]

Your Given

This is not an epic love tale,
Nor a promise of eternity,
This is me, if you'll allow,
I want to be your given.

No reference to the seven seas,
Nor of mountains to be climbed,
And no undying pleas.
I want to be your given.

A text, or call, is all I need,
To join you at your side,
To withstand the monotony,
I want to be your given.

Facing the ends of the Earth,
Is found only in fiction,
It's true to say, I know your worth,
I want to be your given.

When others hide and flee,
To avoid your everyday life,
You need only look to me,
I want to be your given.

There's a way for you to know;
No matter what you must do,
I am always willing to go.
I want to always be, your given.

And so the Distance Grows

Wrecked and ravaged.
Split and spliced.
I hope my pain,
Appeases your appetite

Unfolding affairs,
Rapidly relayed,
My input unneeded,
Your nourishment made,

Hounding, haranguing,
Coerced confidence,
Simply to satiate,
Your 'doting' due diligence.

Conveniently clueless,
Indignantly ignorant,
Reaching as I retreat,
You feel as an affront.

Diffusing and deluded,
Reinforcing relation,
Obliviously leading,
To my seeking isolation.

À Réfléchir

Est-ce que c'est possible,
À devenir une personne différente,
De reinventer une vie captivante,
Et changer les qualités terribles?

Est-ce que c'est possible,
Pouvoir prospérer ou s'améliorer,
Franchement pouvoir accepter,
Que défauts peuvent nous rendre flexible?


[A poetic translation:

Is it possible,
To become a person who is different,
To take a dull life, and reinvent,
And change the qualities that're terrible?

Is it possible,
To improve oneself, and succeed,
Honestly be able to concede,
That flaws can make us flexible?]

The Uninvited Guest

I am the piteous soul,
The intruder of tranquility,
The disruptor of stability,
And useless, with no real goal.

I am an inconvenience,
An unplanned burden incurred,
A financial drain to be suffered,
With no right for my defense.

I'm nothing, if not a thief,
Stealing others' private memories,
Imposing on generosities,
Selling hopes of relief.

I must feign an improvement,
Around those who expect a changed state,
And hope for a most prosperous fate,
Despite sadness and lament.

The Observer

With every effort to find out, spent,
Yet, still no closer to happiness,
How is it others find enjoyment,
In simple, blissful effortlessness?

Is there a mystery to reveal,
A secret clue to their breezy acts?
They have learned something special, I feel.
With all life's snags, they seem always, lax.

What might this life-altering truth be?
Will I ever know their lives' purpose,
Enter their private society,
Or, just always try, without success?

A Doting Ward

Your eyes, if precious gems,
Could reap a fortune,
With the rarity of their color,
A perfectly balancing shade,
Of yellows and jade.

Your vigor and energy,
Are bested only by,
Your simplistic loving devotion,
And your loyal attachment,
To my every movement.

Your character flaws,
Are few, yet strong,
Though are reduced by,
Your jovial playful nature,
And winning demeanor.

Your adorably shaped face,
Tiny nose and large eyes,
Excuse all transgressions,
And surpass your impishness,
By your innocent gentleness.

Repressed

Sunshine and joy dance upon my face,
Displaying pure elegance and grace,
Each and every hair, firmly in place,
Concealing flaws within, every trace.

A smile, perfectly forged, is worn,
Like decorations are, often shorn,
And are used purposely, to adorn.
Nevertheless, still feeling forlorn.

Words and gestures, polite and refined.
Social courtesies always in mind,
Towards others' short-comings, acting blind.
While the madness within stirs, confined.

Fleeting Relief

The splattering of raindrops against the panes,
Holds a soothing grasp of complacency,
Despite the subjective drear that constrains,
The darkness without, lessens inconsistency.

As the lightning illuminates the sky,
And the thunder resounds in the distance,
With the storm, the soul will still comply,
Rather than offer any feigned resistance.

When the sun again makes its presence known,
And the gloom becomes a shadow of thought,
The realization of being alone,
Renders absurd, the inner struggle fought.

Mired

The need for validation lurks behind every corner,
The fear of a life of insignificance haunts each step,
Feigning normalcy becomes increasingly tiresome,
And it seems impossible to avoid feeling inept.

Wasting the present on the foreboding future,
Continuously weighs on all concious thought.
The looming inevitability of the unvisited grave,
Defies all good-intentioned activites sought.

How then to rid the diligent emotions of self-doubt,
To escape the constant bombarding melancholy,
To defeat all that assaults and nullifies prosperity,
And eradicate the actualization of irrelevancy?

Recovering in Your Wake

The void in my life is deep and gaping,
Dragged along bottom, hopelessly scraping,
You stole so many unrealized memories,
And exchanged them for wild iniquities.

How do I regain all that was taken?
Or determine the gravity of what I've forsaken?
I must believe atonement is possible,
And that we humans are, all of us, fallible.

To continue to endure after years of pain,
And attempt to gather the strength to maintain,
Is no simple task that you have left,
For, of a sense of self, I am bereft.

Amelioration

I will say the things, I've never said,
Feel the feelings, I've always fled,
Attempt to evade, the pervasive dread,
That constantly ruminates within my head.

I will pursue the desires, I once craved,
Control the fear that keeps me enslaved,
And determine the standards that ought be staved,
Thus creating a new path as yet, unpaved.

I will relinquish the demons in my mind,
Leave all the defeatist mentality behind,
Embrace the musings of a different kind,
By expressing all, that has been confined.

I will engage myself in honest reflection,
Perceive my being through planned dissection,
And render my endeavors towards confection,
Embodied in the drive to seize perfection.

The Untitled Poem

Nameless art, stirs a disconnect.
In creating a Piece without reflect,
Artistic significance is lost,
And the Creator's intentions, the cost.

The Artist can express the inexpressible,
Thus, lukewarm guidance is insensible,
The supreme aspiration should be,
To illuminate ethereal reverie.

A Creed for the Struggling

Muffled, ruffled, or all a-shuffled,
No matter, your tatter, I'm never gladder,
Than to see, you be, uniquely free,
To portray and display, your very own way.

Smudged, begrudged or even prejudged,
Despite your plight, you never lose sight,
That 'life is rife with strife',
Leaving scars that carve who we are.

The Breeze of Dreams

Sleep, my sweet Love.
Let close your eyes.
Dream, of above,
Where the soul, flys.

Soar, my sweet Love.
Let spread your wings.
The winds full of,
All wondrous things.

Coast, my sweet Love.
Hope dreams, shall stay,
Regardless of,
Each passing day.

Here We Go Wanting You

Big, bold, built,
All of your clothes well-fillt,
Perfectly seizing, teasing, and pleasing,
You can't help but jilt.

Cock-snide ox,
You're wittier than the fox,
By roughing, puffing, and buffing,
You're tougher than the rocks.

Mean, lean, dream,
We all of us try to scheme,
Through spinning, sinning, try winning,
A coveted spot on your team.


[Written, and to be read aloud, to the tune of "We Go Loopty Loo". All of us can be complex; we can feel envious, romantic, silly, insecure, to name a few.  This poem attempts to show how a person can be silly through the use of a children's nursery rhyme in the attempts to pursue a guy who we "hate to love" and yet also show how we desperately want to be in his life, despite his arrogance.] 

Eruption

Wet, wet,
Dripping,
Sweat.

Yearning,
Burning,
Outlet.

Passion,
Flaming,
Persuasion.

Sliding,
Smoothing,
Saturation.

Wet, wet,
Clenching, drenching,
Inundation, jet.


[Take note of the addition of a syllable to the last line of each stanza.  Also, there are 5 stanzas and 5 syllables in the last line of the poem, indicating a finality to and within the poem.

As Yet, Unresolved

Ransacked letters.
Blood-shot eyes.
Ruined dreams
And pointless cries.

Inward collapse.
Nerves affray.
Self-pity
And thus dismay.

Righteous screaming.
Red fists balled.
Deceived by
All lies recalled.

The moments pass.
Lessened pain.
End "us" will,
Restore me sane.

Teetering

How do I cope?
Back and forth with you.
Is it all false hope?

Many a mixed sign,
Should I pursue
Or, preemptively resign?

Often, I approach,
To reveal, though panicked,
Yet myself, I reproach.

What will you utter?
Unable to predict.
Is truth, impassable clutter?

I'd settle with a smile
Simply in camaraderie
Over loss and complete exile.

Yet unsure, if I am prepared
To end this fantasy
By true feelings, declared.

Ire

You conspire,
In mire,
Wretched liar.

Rise higher,
From pyre,
Prevent fire.

Transpire,
Ever dire,
No? Expire!

Spared

Mastered,
To stay,
Hidden.

Enamored,
For me,
Forbidden.

Deterred,
Each day,
Expected.

Despaired,
To be,
Rejected.

Triggered

Like a bullet from a gun is shot,
Life barrels forth hastily.
The force is so utterly not,
That which travels undecidedly.

With unwavering momentum,
The bullet directs itself determinedly,
Seeking no pause or asylum,
From its predetermined trajectory.

Therefore, if the course is set,
Excluding a chance of diversion,
It seems rather folly to abet,
Any pleading efforts at aversion.

The only alternative possible,
To sway the inevitable bearing,
Is to alter the impetus liable,
For the bullet’s explosive firing.

A Plea to the Universe

O Universe, break these oppressive chains!
Permit me, hopefully to embark.
Inspire hope to arise from the remains,
And diminish the insecurities in the dark,
That have, for far too long, imprisoned
All the wondrous achievements envisioned.

O Universe, cease the tortuous accosting-
Of all who solely desire mediocrity-
By disabling the contentment of accepting,
The entirety of life’s commonality.
Transcend, the sub-par intentions of all,
To aspire to enlightenment, withal.

O Universe, terminate the floundering,
That continuously plagues the masses,
Empower the union of us all for devising,
The profound ideal ambition that surpasses
All previous, trivial, and failed endeavors
That continue to hinder any future measures.

O Universe, release me from the cage of despair,
Finalize this cruel enveloping captivity,
That so readily does me ensnare.
Awaken the Muses of creativity,
And enliven my actions with emulative appeal
That assuredly will lead to motivating zeal.

Nines, Sixes and Sevens

The core has bore all the pain inside,
Difficult tumult rendered me snide,
Raging, engaging feelings abound,
Grieving and seething too tightly wound.
Compressed and distressed though thoughts maintained.
Curious, how sanity sustained.
Revulsion, explosion, need to halt.
Fruition of ascension, exalt!

Remaining Leaf

I'm like the remaining leaf,
Clinging to the tree of hope,
Unwilling to relinquish the familiar,
And accept the consuming cold.

I'm like the remaining leaf,
High above the rest,
Aware that despite my height,
Demise is our common trait.

I'm like the remaining leaf,
Who refuses to lose vibrancy,
And join the exodus,
In colorless irrelevancy.

I'm like the remaining leaf,
Afraid of the impending doom,
And becoming nothing,
On which strangers tread.

I'm like the remaining leaf,
Who pleads for recognition,
For once I plummet downwards,
I'll become indistinguishable.