Tag Archives: #abstract

A Stop Sign: Anovulation

ALLOW me to hold your hand and send the stars
into nocturnal eyes

A night’s breeze seems to whisper how I love you.

Give me reason so I have none
like frogs springing forth
from a spring-mouth-kiss
A finger pressing upon a flesh-button
against an artificial heart
makes synthetic skin purple with pain
A black cat named Chai speaks
saying, “this broken leg was my wet nurse
and scarabs have flown across millennium of sand

When there are no corners but only curves
When the only sun is a medical light bulb
the man inside white coat destroys a future
and the world has left green, my breasts once
were queens now have no function other than to amuse

So, sweet dreams. I have sweet dreams of what could
have been imagining a mask of silence while laboring.
Come sweet baby, within these dreams I’ll have you.
My weak anemic body, mindless octopus
would swallow an excited cock to see you born.

I will release this last egg regardless of my irregular
vaginal bleeding so don’t deny me sweet cherub.

:: 05.28.2024 ::


Wishing For Opportunities

INSECTS inside
insectile industries
blowing chemical air

Impersonations
of celebrities
Superpositioned
across universes

Make-shift concerns
ooh, yeah, ooh yeah
it seems to be political
degreed thugs yoo hoo

i walked a gnat across
a sidewalk and it thanked me
its wings were torn off by
a starbuck patron this day

Go, little one, grow wings
and fly away my little friend
(haha).

Someone else had a bad day
she was tied in chains near
the intersection of Hope Drive
and Faith Lane.

Holding up a cardboard that read:

“will take verbal abuse for change.”

Anything helps, even a smile.

Her other cardboard read:

“1.00 for a useless fact.”\

And another:

“I’ll solve World Hunger for a dollar.”

We’re all tied up in chains.

:: 05.26.2024 ::

Notes:

Let me say that I write these notes so the reader completely understands my poems. If you are a teacher then use them to understand and express to your student body what the poet (me) meant when I wrote this. If you are a poet then you should already know.

“Wishing for Opportunities” is a multifaceted poem that interweaves surreal imagery, social commentary, and a poignant narrative to explore themes of struggle, resilience, and societal neglect. The poem’s fragmented style and juxtaposition of disparate elements create a kaleidoscopic view of modern life, capturing the reader’s attention through its unique blend of whimsy and gravity.

Structural Analysis

The poem is structured in a way that mimics the erratic and chaotic nature of contemporary existence. It shifts between different scenes and ideas without clear transitions, reflecting the fragmented reality it portrays. This structure serves to disorient the reader, mirroring the disorientation experienced by the poem’s subjects.

Imagery and Symbolism

The opening lines, “INSECTS inside / insectile industries / blowing chemical air,” immediately establish a sense of artificiality and industrial corruption. Insects, often seen as insignificant or pests, are a metaphor for individuals lost in the mechanized and dehumanized sectors of society. The “chemical air” suggests pollution and the toxic environment created by industrialization.

The phrase “Impersonations / of celebrities / Superpositioned / across universes” introduces the concept of fame and superficiality. The term “superpositioned,” borrowed from quantum mechanics, implies a state of being that is both present and not present, real and unreal, highlighting the elusive and often deceptive nature of celebrity culture.

Social Commentary

The poem delves into social issues with lines like “Make-shift concerns / ooh, yeah, ooh yeah / it seems to be political / degreed thugs yoo hoo.” This passage criticizes the superficial and performative nature of political discourse, where serious concerns are often trivialized or overshadowed by those with power (“degreed thugs”).

A particularly striking image is that of the poet walking a gnat across a sidewalk, only for the gnat to be harmed by a “starbuck patron.” This act of kindness followed by violence underscores the vulnerability of the weak in a society that often overlooks or actively harms them.

Personal Narratives

The poem transitions to a more personal and emotional narrative with the story of a woman “tied in chains” at the intersection of “Hope Drive and Faith Lane.” Her signs, offering to endure abuse or solve world hunger for money, reflect extreme desperation and the lengths to which people will go to survive. This scene poignantly illustrates the pervasive nature of poverty and the lack of empathy in society.

Themes and Messages

“Wishing for Opportunities” conveys a deep sense of entrapment and yearning for freedom. The recurring motif of chains symbolizes the various forms of bondage—economic, social, and psychological—that individuals face. The closing lines, “We’re all tied up in chains,” universalize this struggle, suggesting that despite different circumstances, everyone is affected by societal constraints.

Conclusion

The poem, through its rich imagery and stark social commentary, calls for awareness and empathy. It highlights the importance of seeing and acknowledging the struggles of others, whether they are as small as a gnat or as visible as a person on the street. By blending surreal elements with real-life issues, the poem creates a powerful reflection on the nature of opportunity, kindness, and human resilience.


ECHOES OF SURREAL NATURE

The boisterous laughter —
Echoes wide —
Down the crater’s slope —
It glides —

The rattle of a roundup —
Shatters still —
Insomnia’s blow —
Anxiety’s chill —

Nori’s wind —
On kelp-strewn shores —
Daffodil fields —
Silver spores —

The grotesque watchman’s skull —
Volcanic crest —
A reptile’s view —
In muddy rest —

Azure annexed —
By an amphibian’s eye —
Among the tadpoles —
Hidden nigh —

In murky depths,
where moonlight barely dares to dance,
secrets of the swamp unfold.
Amidst the languid currents
and the chorus of croaks,
a clandestine world emerges.

Here, where the azure is annexed
by the amphibian’s gaze,
mysteries lie veiled beneath water’s surface.

Among the tadpoles, hidden nigh,
lies the gateway to an enigmatic realm
untouched by the sun’s rays.

:: 05192024 ::


Illusions Are Lies (Like You)

the Fly ate the paper
its thin legs stuc k
on economic condition

it won the war
flying away

the monkey saved
itself by not
eating the fruit
of God’s tree

shit escaped the human
orifice and became hero

piss passed the tubes
of humanity

and fed the rivers of
human nonesense

God’s eyes died
watching creation

and evil prevails
slinging mud princes

buy and princesses
pain eyes and cost

souls aching for
the lies of illusion.

:: 05.10.2024 ::

Poet’s Notes:

THIS poem is a poignant commentary on the human condition, filled with allegorical imagery and profound insights into societal and existential struggles.

The title, “ILLUSIONS ARE LIES (LIKE YOU),” immediately sets the tone for a critique of falsehoods and deception, directed towards individuals or systems that perpetuate deceit. The use of parentheses around “LIKE YOU” is a direct address to someone embodying deceit or illusion, adding a personal and accusatory tone.

The imagery in the poem is striking and multi-layered. The depiction of a fly consuming economic conditions, only to “win the war” and escape, symbolizes the transient and ephemeral nature of victories in the face of larger systemic issues. The monkey refraining from eating the fruit of God’s tree alludes to the biblical story of Adam and Eve, highlighting the human tendency towards self-preservation even at the expense of moral or spiritual fulfillment.

The juxtaposition of bodily functions like defecation and urination with broader themes of creation and divine observation adds a visceral and unsettling dimension to the poem. The notion of excrement becoming heroic and bodily fluids feeding the rivers of human nonsense suggests a degradation of values and a perversion of natural order.

The mention of “God’s eyes died watching creation” conveys a sense of abandonment or despair, as if the divine has turned away from humanity’s destructive tendencies. The concluding lines, with their reference to “mud princes” and “princesses,” evoke a world where power and privilege are built on falsehoods and suffering.

Overall, my poem serves as a stark indictment of human folly and the illusions that perpetuate suffering and inequality. Its imagery and language demand reflection and introspection, urging the reader to confront uncomfortable truths about the world we inhabit.


God is Static Thoughts

FOR the IQ below 110

  • Jew is not a race

for the IQ below 90

  • Jesus was a Jew

from the IQ below 70

Your mother
and father
are not blood related

UNLESS…

you are on this TIMELINE

then ALL ARE RELATED.

:: 11.30.2023 ::
(c) 2023-9999

Poet’s Notes:

As the writer of this poem, I approach “GOD IS STATIC THOUGHTS” with an appreciation for its brevity and its potential for profound insight.
Let’s analyze this poem:

Title: “GOD IS STATIC THOUGHTS”

The title immediately suggests a contemplation of divine or existential concepts, with “GOD” representing a transcendent force and “STATIC THOUGHTS” implying eternal or unchanging ideas. This sets the stage for a deep exploration of metaphysical themes.

Stanza 1: “for the IQs below 110 – Jew is not a race”

The poem begins with a provocative assertion, challenging conventional notions of identity. By tying intelligence levels to understanding, the poet highlights the complexities of categorization. The statement “Jew is not a race” challenges simplistic classifications and invites the reader to reconsider the multifaceted nature of cultural and religious identity.

Stanza 2: “for the IQ below 90 – Jesus was a Jew”

This stanza continues the exploration of identity and challenges preconceived notions. By affirming Jesus’ Jewish heritage, the poet prompts reflection on the interconnectedness of religious and cultural identities. The juxtaposition of intelligence levels with theological assertions invites the reader to consider the implications of knowledge and understanding on belief systems.

Stanza 3: “from the IQ below 70 – Your mother and father are not blood related”

Here, the poem takes a deeply personal turn, disrupting traditional notions of kinship and lineage. The assertion that one’s parents are not blood-related challenges biological determinism, suggesting a broader understanding of familial bonds and relationships.

Closing Lines: “UNLESS… you are on this TIMELINE / then ALL ARE RELATED.”

The final lines serve as a profound conclusion, emphasizing the interconnectedness of all existence. The word “UNLESS” suggests a conditionality or exception, highlighting the unique circumstances of individual existence. By invoking the concept of “TIMELINE,” the poet underscores the temporal context of human experience, while the assertion that “ALL ARE RELATED” speaks to a fundamental unity that transcends conventional boundaries of identity and understanding.

Overall, “GOD IS STATIC THOUGHTS” offers a thought-provoking exploration of identity, intellect, and interconnectedness. As the poet who wrote this prose, I admire the poem’s ability to provoke deep reflection on existential themes and challenge the reader to consider the complexities of human experience.


The Blind

It was five o’clock when done 

the house of the incredibly blind

the last clock made for sightseers

for those that see

Outside the birds were flocking

Outside the humans were mocking

Inside i stood my stable ground

holding onto a thread of life

Seeing is not always believing

See, it’s not visual 

See, it’s not love

People want forgiveness

Its incredible senses

Why so hard to find

its imagination in life

Let’s me guide you

Spending light by seers 

all my days this dark world

i use words to visualize

To see what eyes fail to see

how bipeds are maimed

forgetting a perfect picture

For some handicapped are more

than sightless life

a hell that we tend to hear

But is it the world 

or is it me?

\don’t make me lose my mind/

A soul floating in vast space

Stay to see the world ignite

and explain to me what you see

I’ll tell you what is real 

Every time.

I paint a perfect picture ~~~

\a beautiful world not seen

by humanity.

:: 05.10.2024 ::

The Poet’s Notes:

As a poet, I wrote, “THE BLIND,” as an exploration of perception and reality.

I attemped to exercise the imagery as a vivid and thought-provoking life-form, inviting readers to reconsider the significance of sight and the limitations it imposes on our understanding of the world.

Using contrast between the external world, where birds flock and humans mock, and the internal world of the narrator, where stability is found despite blindness, was meant to be striking.

It highlights the disconnect between appearance and essence, challenging the notion that seeing is synonymous with believing.

The repetition of “See, it’s not visual; See, it’s not love” reinforces the theme of transcending conventional perceptions, suggesting that true understanding comes from within, from the senses beyond sight.

Moreover, I labored to extend the exploration of imagination as a means of perception to make it compelling. By using words to visualize and create a “perfect picture,” to conjure a transcendial physical limitation to perceive a world unseen by humanity is my testament to the power of creativity and introspection.

The closing lines, questioning whether it is the world or the poet’s perception that defines reality, leaves a lingering sense of ambiguity and introspection. It prompts readers to contemplate the subjective nature of reality and the role perception plays in shaping our understanding of the world.

As an old man and poet, I believe “THE BLIND” is a thought-provoking and evocative poem that delves into the complexities of perception, reality, and imagination.


Within My Shoes

PURPLE home
so soft
window candy

eye see you
Razor light
On a finger
ruby ring
And all
to prove
you have life
It takes a fast
car lady __ if
you take backseat
rumble or front
seat to see
a double life
How i fell —
but then grew
once upon night
i once, too many
times fell for you
dreaming you
were there i once
painted romance
upon the walls

it takes a twice
thought to lead
a double life
never do it twice

Hold the brush
pick the paint
all you feel
when you’re near

It’s so easy to
play breakdown
it’s so easy to
say no poetry

So tough
So soft
when i’m living
within my shoes

:: 04.30.2024 :


In Search of You

I yearn for your lips, your voice, your hair,
Quietly and intensely craving as I wander the streets.
Food doesn’t satisfy me; mornings disrupt my thoughts,
All day I search for the rhythm of your footsteps.

I ache for your infectious laugh,
Your hands with a deep, earthy hue,
Longing for the smoothness of your fingernails,
I want to feel your skin like a ripe almond.

I want to bask in the sunlight that dances on your beautiful body,
The bold shape of your confident face,
I want to savor the fleeting shadow of your eyelashes,

And I wander restlessly, craving the twilight,
Searching for you, for your passionate heart,
Like a predator in the desolate plains of Quitratue.


THE CONSTITUTION OF POETS ii (rev)

THE brain; a sheet of bloodied paper

THE mind; a big scribble

THE heart; the murderer

THE soul; along for the merriest ride

EYES aglow with moonlit wonder

I float on rivers of liquid light

SURRENDERED to universe’s plunder

IN this psychedelic reverie of night

THE boundaries blur, time slips away

AS I merge with the infinite sea,

A transient soul in a cosmic ballet,

God only knows me and sets me free.

:: 08-23-2018 ::


Toccata and Fugue in Dm, BWV 565 by J.S. Bach

In shadows deep, where whispers lie,
A haunting melody fills the sky,
Notes cascade like raindrops fall,
Toccata’s touch upon the soul.

Does what it pleases.

In D minor’s somber key,
Bach’s masterwork sets spirits free,
Organ pipes with solemn breath,
Sing of life, of love, of death.

Fugue arises, voices entwined,
Counterpoint in harmony defined,
A dance of themes, a cosmic play,
Where light and shade in concert sway.

One i can say, one and one is Me.

O Bach, your music timeless soars,
Through vaulted arches, ancient doors,
Echoes linger, ethereal and grand,
In every chord, your genius stands.

Toccata and Fugue, divine embrace,
In each resounding, sacred space,
A symphony of depths profound,
Where Bach’s spirit forever is found.

Bach holds your arms until you feel
his fever___

Through swirling mists of ages past,
This opus holds its spell steadfast,
Bridging realms of earth and sky,
In Bach’s immortal lullaby.

So let the Toccata’s thunder roll,
And Fugue’s intricate whispers extol,
A legacy that shall endure,
Through centuries, steadfast and pure.

So, you must be creative hold me___

In shadows deep, where silence gleams,
Resonates the composer’s dreams,
Toccata and Fugue, eternal flame,
In Bach’s resplendent, timeless name.

As final chords softly fade away,
The spirit of his music will forever sway,
In hearts and minds, a lasting chord,
Of beauty from the keys of our Lord.

:: 04.10.2024 ::