3 Separate tangents, but presented in one go for a quick catch-up!

All this time, I’ve managed to compartmentalize

Keep you out of mind,

Still I hold a shred of hope,

That maybe in the future,

I will be your bric a brac
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

How untamed you’ve become,

It’s laden in your ancestry, A life I long to live,

You construct the profundity I seek,

An exemplary example,

With passion you preach your practice,

Adventure on your tongue,

It’s written in our history,

A connection not undone,

Compulsion to coincide with nature’s implicit delicacy,

We fight for the same team,

Years before we nought knew the venues we’d explore,

Would align our paths.

It’s impossible to ignore your ubiquitous masculinity.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Let me take one moment to address this,

Your impetuous impediment,

Winding yourself in a wheel,

Derailed and headed for destruction,

Too eager to please,

Too egoistic to lift a finger,

Fuck the endeavor to salvage,

May the feeble fall,

If they shatter, you won’t answer the call.

Every woman for herself.

A trite tactic,

Contrived from discordance

A status change, the real reason has a name,

and she’s true to your tastes.

I'm so fucking tired of this,
letting my heart take precedence,
it only curls up next to trouble,
sleeping with an enemy that I know will crush me,
the lengths I bend and extend to please another,
simply sentence me to suffer,
is it a choice?
is the will my own?

A family full of fakes,
if the truth is too painful,
they can't face it.

I like you because you never shield what is real,
I'd rather the injury than the indemnity,
the ones I love are liars,
how am I expected to just accept it?

This spoon you've thrust down my throat,
I've tried to spit out, but you keep forcing your inculcated fiction.

Please bring me amnesty, spare me a life of expurgation,
a profession of pacification.
I won't visit you on the isle of denial.

And I curl up, close my eyes and imagine a cocoon,
crawling up around me,
like a second skin that I can escape in,
turn on the sound, slow and considerate,
my mind racing forward,
scenes, substance of only dreams,
withering under the realm of reality,
inconceivable, simply not feasible.

(A vessel with no words, a shell scratching pen, making hapless marks. Dry is the opulence, drank by avaricious others, til pockets aplenty. Left to remain inane, thought to have surmounted. Your surrogate muse, in proclivity, you address me + I adhere, wishing to remove the label, but it's sewn so deeply.)

This poem doesn't feel finished yet, although I've got nothing to add at the moment.

We can’t leave the past alone,
But still progress,
Have we any traces of who we used to be?
Untied all the knots to each other,
I can’t unfasten myself from you,
I’m tired of giving and not getting back
Impossible to ascertain how far your feelings extend,
Our faces grinning at one another,
Weightless inclination in my chest,
I reel and refrain, from what my body begs me to do,
instead I wait for you to move,
at this rate, we are travelling nowhere,
but safely where we can be upheld,
and composure comes easily.
My absent mind betrays me to amuse you,
As long as I make you laugh,
I’ll be the object of ridicule.

Always a little too honest,
Far too eager to share,
A desire to please you,
Overrides my obstinacy.

Live a humble life,
meandering in melancholy,
a break in the sashay, in an artificial way.
I can't tell a story,
but I follow the strings,
they tug and tear at my heart,
a palpitating interruption,
I dug out the tincture,
a subtle strum is soothing,
the weakness is waning,
warrant of a wraith.
Everybody wants an echo,
a record to beat,
a sudatory heat.

Are you evading me?
Did I rupture the unscathed surface, of some contented plateau?
where were we traveling?
never setting foot beyond safety,
I am tired of not taking action,
but I don't want to take advantage of your ambivalence,
it frustrates me that you live between extremes, no fluctuation,
your lyrics mislead, falsifying personality.
when it's only endless flat topography.

I went home and to see my wonderful friend Veronica get hitched in Cuba over the Easter break. Some writing went down and were recorded in my travel book. Here are my thoughts as they appear.

As you can tell by the title/scribbles, I wrote this on a very bumpy bus journey.

Being outside on a beautiful day is very conducive to poetry flow.

Why not amalgamate a couple of ostracized poems that have been sitting on the sidelines!

It's all just noise,
in my ears, I can't focus,
invading my sleep,
they are getting through to me,
I've gotten so good at forgetting you exist.
Making up my mind,
then recant.
Answers while cataleptic,
this could be a disaster.
Asphyxia contigo.
Assay with a closed eye.
What is your intent?

I have it, but I will lose it as soon as..
if you don't cultivate it,
it needs attention.
Cannot expect me to carry a penchant for an unresponsive party.
I dropped the atom,
but you must be bomb-resistant.
I didn't take shelter,
slivers of skin and shrapnel.
greeted by apathy,
Your equivocality is infuriating.
Just another incision in the framework.

I miscalculated your predilection for our antiquity.

Sticky note poem 1.

More sketch book poems! I may have already posted these digitally, but thought I would toss these in to shake things up.

The time I spend with you in my head,
I am your mirror mirror on the wall,
projecting the image you want to see,
but your attention is only directed inwards,
inconsideration, let me dry your boots,
you've been pacing in muddy fields again.

Self-reflection was never meant to extend,
beyond the lengths you push it.
I thought the bubble would burst,
its flexibility must be boundless.

Surmounting tendencies are palpably overlooked.
I don't want to be your ego food.

Another aneurysm,
you slam dunk it down my throat.
Only too eager to dispel my theory,
blot out my increment of hope,
at a perilous moment.

Now everything has been excavated,
it that what you were after?
To stifle my song?

Inflation didn't last long.
You were armed ready with the needle.

How life can change,
from one day to the next,
each breathes different than the last.

A surprise, you might be my kind.
Reading a fresh expression in your eye,
is it the light of the ethereal moon?

The feeling fades,
as ephemeral as it dithered,
you are looking less refined,
still pleased to see me.

The tone dies transitory.
I forget to watch for your ocular exposé,
exerting an efflux of futile dialogue.
You allow the wind to carry it away,
rousing a rout.

What is the depth of the connection?
I wish I could sense it,
without gaiting back bemused.

I feel like there's some dishonesty,
in the way you speak to me,
swayed to believe what is ours is mine,
something genuine.

It must be an illusion,
you paint every charm you collect.
Remuneration for loyalty,
I see it exhibited publicly,
the special quality that subsisted and your credibility,
waned.

Something different. Since the majority of my poems are scribbled decoratively in my sketchbook or loose paper, I thought I would include it's original format, instead of boring bits of text.


In case you can't read the poem part, this is what it says:

A symposium of feeling,
make me a marionette,
tangled in thread you have tied to me,
please make your entrance,
visions that swathe,
I am eager and waiting,
trivial are the thorns embedded,
your softness is inviting.

These lines have been open,
For quite some time,
And the conversation is getting heavy,
Incinerating, like a slow coal fire,
The idea is burning in the back of my head,
Nostalgia is appetizing,
Where’s the harm when we’ve been there before?
I know all your escapades,
But it doesn’t make a difference,
Let’s disregard the consequences,
And bask/marinate in our glory,
When I need a shoulder,
You use your sleeve to dry my eyes,
Complete the cylinder,
I’ve become quarry to your intonation,
I can’t eradicate this phenylethylamine path.

I had these scribbled in my notebook from daydreaming during class, even though they stink.. at least it served its purpose!

I am not a ghost I know,
but still a hollowed existence,
I dreamed of change,
now I can't shake that eerie feeling,
I grew and became estranged,
Who am I, I ask you,
Someone so familiar must hold all the answers,
Too far from where I left myself,
Days where I fall into my old skin are few and far between,
Could it be in a language I learned?
Taken by it.
This must be some transition.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I have seen you before,
you recognize my face,
could it be I have created a lasting impression?
will you reveal yourself slowly?
can we find each other?
glimpses of sides I seek,
intangibly, uncontrolled intrigue,
synthesized with my style,
drawn in by your warmth,
resplendent resonance inside,
please keep communicating.