Optometry Tuesday

Effortless space around you
To be vocal
To be yourself

So please do

Being like someone else
Is so see-through
When I only want to see
YOU

As you are to be
No selflessness
No greed
Plain
Unexplained
And free

Some of you shy
And won’t let me see
I got bad eyes anyway
You crooked teeth
Of half truths
With the most beautiful
Bit if the iceberg
Hidden hidden away

Some too shy to even hide
make a fake truth
To explain
Every single bloody day
I be this I be that
Not doing it anyway
It’s not working anyway
And everyone else but you
Can see

On the edge of this town
Right in the middle of it
Under a fig tree
The ocean breezes
The air is free
And there is safe for you
To sit and be
Scream it out
As in your heart it be
Trust me doll
That’s all we including you want to see

The true essence of the beautiful
Freak
Let it be
Anything it is
So it can be a part of we
We are all like you too
And you are all like me

best times begin

they say youth is to be treasured
but how can you
when you haven’t yet had
anything else
to compare it with

broad shouldered wise-men
shut up and glare
when they see fresh meat

they meant youth is what they treasure when old
when you lose it
but I will keep it
here
on these pages
in my diaries

I am youth
forever
my heart a phoenix
as I delete my past
and become someone new

This is day one for me.
The only day I will live
Don’t by-stand
I don’t want to be admired
I only travel for truth
and to be of service

I am multidimensional
in a body of a woman
and I love that vessel
and the creativity of the life force

But I would much rather
be a soul now
Not a subject
Of fantasies
But real – solid –
Game changer

So I begin
Thank you

succulent

My friendship with myself
Is so
Broad
It lights up my room
Sets my hair on fire
And I just watch
Laugh
Masturbate
So bloody content
with myself

One could think it’s narcissistic
But I just like my dirty sheets
and my comfy socks
More than the uncomfort
Of outside space
Yes, interaction can be succulent too
But self-love is both
the giver and receiver
I am everything in a monologued
Love affair

Blissful
Hot on a tin roof
Back home
In my Earth shaped heart
Rocking my feet up and down
The azure sky

I kiss myself
I laugh at that too
It’s like I’m a self obsessed schizo
And neither of us
Have ever felt a love
So true

short but bloated or tall but empty

Last poem was shit
took it off
embarrassing
To do work so bad
not sure if
quality over
quantity though
a lot is good
diversity good
space for mistakes yes
growth too
judgement is over
I’m no Bukowski
I can’t chain myself
To a way I should be
I’m just going to be
Whether I feel like it or not
I am free, I am free

Life around lunch

The ever-changing lunch space
the area so full of consent
that is relieving.
not a round table but
it comes around like every other cycle

Sometimes the silence is overpowering
Sometimes it gives you its power to think
Your sandwich is warm and feels old
Older than that Apple
The one that started it all
the nature of environment and its furniture
It falls apart every night when the lights go out
It build itself again
When the first person comes in the building
In excitement to be seen again
To gather information the walls will tell
For centuries to come
Or until the next war

Half of your sandwich is down
You forgot to open your crisps
Maybe leave them for later
Is later coming
It seems you’re trapped in a moment of work
Forever
Until lunchtime
And all there is between work and lunchtime is the mindless walk
Do you breathe in that walk
Do you gather information too

For When work is over
As your crisps
Gather dust
Under the table
That collapses
And your second bit of sandwich
Is down your throat
Your belly protesting the bleached flour
And the dead meat
This can’t be all there is

For lunch

Spotless

Imagination
Banging my head
Biting my arms
Cutting my hair
Shouting my voice away
Crying out 70% water
30% flesh
Skin is ripping apart
Heart is trying to leave me
I wish it could
I wish I was dying sometimes
A finite line would be easy
than the depth of an infinite soul
I hate who we was
Before we met
Sad and asleep
With eyes full of hope
I fucking dried out of words
Tonight
Spare me my small life
Your inner movement
Is all I ever wish to live by
The worst is
My prince
I know you desperately
Heartbreakingly
Feel
The same
And ache the same
I don’t want to make the art
I realize I am it
It will be unfinished
Until we admit to being sinners

Imagination
I stab myself emotionally
Bully myself into a false belief
That I can kiss another
You are exactly me
And my body is likewise incomplete
My lips dry
Voice spitting out
Correctly
Cause it’s embedded with the loss of the past
When we don’t have to be
Nostalgia melancholy
My favorite thieves
I’m so hungry
For something that’s inside of me
Already I’ve locked you under key
In my brainwaves
Sleep, my soldier, sleep
I’ll sit on the sidewalk
With bare feet and a tea
Slide my fingers through your hair
And squeeze your heart deep
Let us be
Let the future swallow me
In a submissive sweet
Defeat
Love is real
Accepting
Love is between more when we’re apart
Than when we meet
Play of the higher shelf
Thin because
Words won’t ever be enough
So try we didn’t
We just are

Bleed, my spouse, bleed
I am here for you
To drink the deceit of your breed
I’m here to carry us
When we finally become empty
Into the sunset
Of the creation we are meant to be
Bear with me
While I brush my teeth
My words are cleaning up
Your silences are ours to keep

Dissociation

Years pile
All I think about is time
And ironically
The things I want to get rid of
Are the ones most commonly on my mind
Dissociation
Disgust with the self
I still see the oppressor in my mother’s partner
I still cry at night and wish I could resolve her love
And point her to the world outside of her
I still remember the things he told me
And sounds he made
He still comments on my appearance
Too often
And too blatantly
I shout on the inside
My throat is itchy
He disgusts me so much
I am disappointed with myself to be
The object of affection
Yes
This is personal
But not as personal as it gets
My boundaries are lower
My new ones I have set
I will not be quiet
I am taking all
But it’s not considered theft
If it was mine to begin with
He took little me from my nest
His fucked up demon
Is partially a part of me
With my own demise
I’ve been possessed

-Good day, Sir. – I’m in a rush.

Please let  me  gather strength.
Please don’t
Think I’ve given up.
A challenge as big
Needs time to come full circle.
Faith like yours is hard to find
Seeing it in you
Is why I believe it’s within me too
To embody it as gracefully
I need to trace back mine.

See,

You know better to trust your emotions;
You are made of intuition and purity;
you can’t be arrogant if you tried.

I see you,

You know better than to forget
that I know too, and I know you.
You can’t disprove it if you tried.

Bless me, sleep next to we.
Pretend no more-
And so will I.
Broadening with every second
Of every now and day.

I fly, my love, I fly
And spy on your hived mind
Grace is homeless here,
Arrogance is blind.

This space between us: none of a kind.
Excuses for being foolish you don’t need to find.
For I’ve seen your every room:
Your inner world
Same as/also
Mine

I’ll see you soon,
Until next time
Let’s keep rebuilding.
These broken halves let’s bind
North and South, East and West
I feel your love sublime
And with every brick
On every column
I see more sunshine.

Passage

It’s been a few months now.
I’ve been different.
I’ve been doing things that I didn’t.
I haven’t been seeing the ones I used to.
Apart from my mother.
And my grocer.
The blood oranges have been good.
My obsession with tea has subsided.
I have grown to love new colors.
I incorporate new intonations.
I look away in a different way.
I no longer get intimidated.
Maybe I go red sometimes
Only if I’m admitting it
As a strength
That I was once embarrassed
By a comic comitance.
I use punctuation more
Though I misspell things on purpose even
Cause I think it makes my tweets
More like me-
A bit impulsive
Trusting
Tastefully sloppy
With eyes too open
And chest too big
For someone
Only a quarter of a century old
But my beauty is just the right amount.
If anything
I see it shocks a lot of men
Now more so
That I am the same as my soul
I am the same outside the box
And inside it
My days are still 24 hrs
My nights are better though
Still horny almost always
But turned off by fools
I re-introduced someone I know into my new space
And they vibrate like me now
We sit and drink beer together sometimes
And I tell him about my day
I tell him even the most stupid things
Cause he’s an opposing force
But of the same
Spirit molecule
I love you
He isn’t afraid to say
My days with him are full of numbers
We share cake
Coke
Mistakes
Scratch that
I have reasons to believe we are saints
That we bring our higher states into
This world with grace
I chat a lot of shit
But it’s only appearing thus
For your pineal is calcified
And your eyes maced

I would lie to say if I haven’t broken many hearts
I would lie if I said I have new values
For truth has lead me here by a leash
Strictly
To this page
On this inter net
On this date
In this sleepy half naked state
I needed volume of words
Spoken-written-out
So to myself I can relate

One more piece in
Peace out
Sewing my desire with my faith

SEPTEMBER IS A GOOD TIME

This is really going to be a whiny stream of consciousness post with the aim of portray the beauty I am experiencing now and it really should be on my other blog page that has to do with ascension and maybe I will move this one day.
If.
<September is a good time.
I feel September will be the closing of the door I have opened now. >

*A BIT ABOUT BEER THAT I DELETED*

I have to go to work soon. I am wearing black linen trousers. It’s spring outside and what I did today compared to what I had on my to do list is pretty sad but I did write a bunch and also danced and felt complete. Rolling stones on. My skin isn’t great today as I indulged again in tobacco and pints.

My walk to catch the weather turned into an intention of a walk into an idea of a wine walk to a 3 minute walk to Beer Moth and back.

Talk about eloquent time-wasting. Talk about my lazy afternoon and me going to work soon. Talk about being in love and not being a skeptic.