Tag Archives: #thoughts

I am Not Who I am

It was the woman that I saw in the bookstore. And to whom I spoke and who spoke to me. I was in a public library of sorts. All people coming and going. The room then became without light. They came to tell me that she was at my house. Waiting. Why? She, that one at the bookstore was now in my bed, all mine but I did not wish to possess her. Her eyes were without lights. I was nonetheless very moved. And a lot because it was my family home. I was also overcome by distress! I was in rags, me, and she, a worldly woman, giving herself away; which of use had to go! A nameless distress, I took her, and let her fall out of bed, almost naked; and in my indescribable weakness I fell upon her and dragged myself with her among the lightless carpets. The family lamp reddened the neighboring rooms one after the other. Then the woman disappeared. I shed more tears than God could ever ask for.

I went out into the endless city. O Fatigue! Drowned in the deaf night and in the flight from happiness. It was like a winter night, with snow to definitely suffocate the world. The friends to whom I shouted: where is she staying, answered falsely. I was in front of the windows of where she goes every evening: I was running in a buried garden. I was rejected. I cried a lot at all of this. Finally I went down to a place full of dust, and sitting on the frames, I let all the tears in my body end with that night. – And yet my exhaustion always came back to me.

I understood that she was in her everyday life; and that the turn of kindness would take longer to reproduce than a star. She has not returned, and will never return, the Adorable One who came to my house – which I would never have supposed. – True, this time, I cried more than all the children in the world.

Then, I realized. My life, my skin, my blood, my smiles and heart made me who I am.

I am not human.

I am love.

:: 05.22.2024 ::


E T E R N A L R E V E R I E

The moon has whispered silver in the curve of your smile,
The dusk has painted twilight upon your tender thighs,
The dawn has kissed gold into the shadows of your eyes,
And dreams weave sapphire upon the path where you tread.

The winds have sung secrets through the strands of your hair,
The earth has cradled your feet with a lover’s gentle care,
The night has draped velvet around your graceful form,
And stars have danced in rhythm to your heart’s quiet storm.

The rain has traced poetry upon your silken skin,
The sun has warmed the depths of the soul that lies within,
The universe has bowed in awe of your serene grace,
And love has found its echo in the light of your embrace.

The flowers have bloomed crimson at the touch of your hand,
The mountains have stood tall to watch where you stand,
The rivers have sung lullabies to ease your gentle sleep,
And time has paused in wonder at the beauty you keep.

The shadows have whispered of mysteries in your gaze,
The flames have danced wildly in your passionate blaze,
The skies have stretched wide to mirror your expanse,
And fate has intertwined with the steps of your dance.

The echoes have carried your laughter through the air,
The seasons have spun tales of your love and care,
The galaxies have spun threads of dreams in your name,
And eternity has sighed, forever unchanged by the same.

And still, stars, silent.

:: 05.22.2024 ::


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 ::


Davy Jones Locker Is Full

Oh look ~~ stars fulfill
my dreams when i lay down
upon a daze

Oh so often these days
become my deepest dreams

Howv there’s no denying
oh! I remember I’m dreaming
and King of my unwakened world

No one speaks but I reach out
and I see Einstein screaming

Oh me oh my
cheer for the University
of Common People

Oh, father, let me sell my sails
give me everyone to fulfill
my provisions

Oh, allow. Oooh.

How Davy Jone’s locker relates
Ooh! Captive in dripping wet
rusting box of iron bars

Crying, below a rotten deck of
sea-dead wood, as he wipes
leaking filthy water from his
oil-slicked forehead_____

For provisions I spend my
Soul to make provisions
and sail we shall onward!

:: 05.14.2024 ::


No One But Us

NO one but us
i want to stand and stare
for all that is which remains
| our eyes ~~

Accepting the tears
of your jewels of love
from your eyes___

No matter, i will touch
your tender wall
of love and life ~~

It’s in your eyes
all within your eyes
so i stand and stare

All within the life
of your experience
(in your eyes)

Life | i gave sometime
and sometimes /easy/
but nothing connects\

to the place
where you are

So soon without noise
i feel your fingers

Like heat | i’m complete
in your heart | i want
to touch your face

In all my incomplete dreams
I want to be a part of you
so let me dream ~ in your eyes


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.


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.


Breath of Life Back Into Eternal Love

At last, there is no help! Therefore, allow a kiss then we part.
Exhausted I am through; love, you shall not hear more a sound.

After all these years, I find myself truly happy to break clean
so free so allow our cold hands an embrace for this last time.

And with great might we should forget our vows.

Belief: I say, we shall meet again, in another life free of
this anguish of silly pain. There will not be a trace to show
that we held onto love of old.

Now, then, and again. And again, love has no final breath,
as passion fades in this life — it’s bended knee.
Innocence closes the eyes of the dead.

Now, as we wish. So many others giving up.

But we shall still breathe life back into Eternal Love.

:: 05.07.2024 ::


Subject: Review Request – “ELEGY OF ETERNAL BEAUTY”

To: Noble Laureate Poet

Subject: Review Request – “ELEGY OF ETERNAL BEAUTY”

Dear Esteemed Poet,

I hope this message finds you well. I am reaching out to request your thoughtful review and critique of a poem titled “ELEGY OF ETERNAL BEAUTY.” The poem, composed on 22 April 2024, delves into themes of beauty, mortality, and the passage of time. I would greatly appreciate your expert analysis of its imagery, structure, and overall poetic impact.

Here is the poem for your review:

ELEGY OF ETERNAL BEAUTY

Amidst the unyielding elements of gold, stone, soil, and vast sea
Yet overshadowed by the grip of mortality’s melancholy,
How can beauty contend with such ferocity,
Its essence as fragile as a delicate flower’s gentle sway?

Oh, how can the essence of summer’s sweetness endure,
Against the relentless siege of time’s battering days,
When even the mightiest rocks and steel gates succumb,
To the inexorable decay of passing time?

Oh, the profound contemplation! Where, oh where,
Can time’s most precious jewel find sanctuary?
Or whose resolute hand can arrest his swift stride?
Or who can deny his plunder of beauty’s allure?

None, unless empowered by the miraculous,
That my love may forever radiate in the depths of dark ink.

This contemplation delves deep into the abstract realm,
Where the immutable forces of nature and mortality intertwine,
As beauty, ephemeral and fragile, seeks resilience,
Amidst the tumultuous currents of existence.

Summer’s honeyed breath, a fleeting whisper,
Confronts the relentless onslaught of temporal tumult,
Where even the most impregnable fortresses falter,
And gates of steel yield to the silent erosion of time’s touch.

Oh, the daunting inquiry! Where, in truth,
Can time’s treasured gem find refuge from its grasp?
Whose determined grasp can detain its hurried march?
And who can thwart its relentless harvest of beauty’s splendor?

None, save for the enchantment of possibility,
That within the depths of ebony ink,
My love’s luminous essence may forever shine.

22 April 2024

To: The Poet

Subject: “Elegy of Eternal Beauty”

Dear Poet,

As a Noble Laureate poet, let me provide an analysis of the poem “Amidst the unyielding elements of gold, stone, soil, and vast sea” based on its themes, imagery, and underlying philosophical inquiries.

The poem begins with a vivid description of enduring elements – gold, stone, soil, and the vast sea – which symbolize the immutable and powerful aspects of the natural world. However, these elements are juxtaposed against the “grip of mortality’s melancholy,” suggesting a contrast between permanence and transience.

The central theme of the poem revolves around the struggle of beauty against the relentless force of time. The speaker questions how something as delicate and ephemeral as beauty can withstand the harsh realities and decay brought by time. The comparison of beauty to a delicate flower’s gentle sway highlights its fragility in the face of life’s challenges.

The poet’s contemplation deepens as they ponder the endurance of beauty amidst the relentless passage of time. The imagery of rocks and steel gates succumbing to decay emphasizes the inevitability of temporal erosion, suggesting that even the strongest and most enduring structures eventually yield to time’s influence.

The poem also delves into philosophical inquiries about the sanctuary and preservation of beauty. The questions posed – where can time’s most precious jewel find refuge? Whose hand can arrest time’s swift stride? – reflect on the human desire to preserve and protect beauty from the ravages of time.

The concluding stanza introduces the idea of art and creativity (“dark ink”) as a means to empower and immortalize beauty. The poet suggests that through the act of creation, particularly in the realm of writing, love’s luminous essence – synonymous with beauty – can endure indefinitely.

Overall, the poem presents a profound meditation on the themes of beauty, mortality, and resilience in the face of time’s passage. It invites contemplation on the human condition and the quest for enduring significance in a world marked by impermanence. The language is rich with metaphor and imagery, evoking a sense of awe and introspection that resonates with the complexities of existence.

As a Noble Laureate poet, I appreciate the depth and sensitivity with which these themes are explored in the poem. The imagery is striking, and the philosophical inquiries are thought-provoking, offering readers a glimpse into the universal struggle to find meaning and permanence in a world of constant change.

My Best,

The Unknown Laureate Poet


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.