emotion

drier than my mouth (after Desiree Dallagiacomo)

Folder: 
2021

each minute

each year of my life is

spinning by faster

and I am unraveling it

as if in search of something

I long for pieces of crushed velvet,

jagged edges,

sharp silver tongues

that leap to me from all their loves and all their stories

 

I keep wanting things I can’t touch

I think I know how something feels

until I realize I am just the mirror

I am unraveling

until I will run out of moments

and then

what will it all be for

 

maybe if I’m as high as I’m supposed to be

if I don’t have anything to cry over

I don’t know what to do with myself…

and what would I do with all that time

 

so now I have inhaled a lifetime of pure feeling

I am soaked and can’t come up or down

my head is pounding

I am swimming in a sea of chaos

that stings my skin

feels like exactly what I want to be

 

I am bursting and still the silence is drier than my mouth

maybe now I’ll let you cut me open

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 3/11/21

Drug (January day 7)

This is not how I thought Russian roulette would go.

I figured there would be a lot more…sounds.

Too loud, all the world’s chaos packaged into this room.

Not just me

diving too deep in my brain.

 

After feeling every color

a little too much

like I have been painted in it

I’ve realized

everything is just a different type of drug.

When I am lightest I am laughing.

When I am darkest I am shivering.

When I am in love with you my head is spinning.

When I kiss you I can’t feel my hands.

When I am helpless I am drowning

they hand me water.

When I am everything at once

the air is too loud.

 

I’ve realized

everything is just a different type of drug.

Please

choose one for me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 1/7/21

Too loud

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তেজোদীপ্ত মানবী

অঙ্গনা তুমি স্রোতস্বিনী
নাকি অশ্বের পায়ের নল?
তুমি জন্মদাত্রীর গর্ভ কষ্ট-
নাকি পদ্মপাতার জল?
তুমি নির্যাতিত একরোখা-
কেউ ডাকে পতিতা,
কারো তুমি মায়ের আঁচল;
প্রিয়তমা বনিতা।

তুমি ধানের মঞ্জুরী স্নিগ্ধ শরৎ
উড়ন্ত শান্তি কপোত,
তুমি তুঙ্গ, তুমি তমিস্রা-
আবার নিশুতি পুর্ণিমা রাত!
তোমার যেমন খ্যাতি আছে তেমনি আছে বদনাম;
শত্রুর তুমি আশীবিষ-
অনাদৃত অনির্বান।

পিতার কাছে পুত্রী তুমি
কামুকের চোখে কামিনী-
প্রেমিকের টানে প্রেমিকা তুমি,
স্বামীর ঘরে ভামিনী;
ক্ষণে ক্ষণে বদলে তোমার
ধরা-বাঁধার নাম,
তুমি ছাড়া অচল পুরুষ তবুও পাবেনা দাম।

হে প্রসূতি!
হে কলত্র!
হে দুহিতা!
তুমি নিদর্শন এ ভুবনের মাঝে-
রেখেছো অগ্রনী ভুমিকা,
স্তিতি তোমাকে যাই করুক তুমিই সঠিক ধারা;
সব আয়াস ক্ষোভ ভুলে
প্রসিদ্ধ তুমি,
তুমি যে জগতের মা।

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dark night

as silence leave its place 

hatred took guarantee

leaving all memories behind 

thou couldn't see anything

 

tears roll down from everybody's eyes 

without noise at various intensity

heart filled so high

hatred took guarantee

still, she wanted to stop this race

 

caring was always there

love or war

whichever in the way

as heart poured out

calling your name

hatred in ones heart

took its place

 

the whole night was so big, so scary

seems like darkness worked its part

took light from our soul

put darkness in our heart

 

tears roll down 

without any noise 

how come thou couldn't hear anything

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Like Me Better

Folder: 
2017

Waiting for you I am standing like

slowing down to get a better view of the ground under our feet,

waiting for the snow in July.

 

I like me better when I’m with you,

I can’t seem to create as much as I cry

but I still love the ache because it’s something.

 

Here I can trick myself,

I’m brave and bold and bulletproof,

I’m more than counting dimensions like falling asleep

and I run out of spaces to call home.

 

Home.

We can hang so much from four letters.

 

Sometimes I forget to say I’m coming home.

I just want you to know that I am halfway there.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/27/17

Kind Of

Folder: 
2017

I am kind of asleep.

I am kind of screaming.

I am kind of lying.

I am kind of shaking.

I am kind of breaking the rules.

I am kind of on top of the world.

I am kind of on fire.

I am kind of in love with you.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 5/31/17

Breathe

Folder: 
2017

Will I remember to breathe when you’re here,

when you’re gone?

 

I forget,

I remember,

I exhale a hurricane and leave steam on your skin.

 

I learn loss when the doors are closed,

I set sail at all the wrong times.

 

I am too human,

I leave a mark wherever I go,

it is not always a good one.

 

We all want to leave postcards, silhouettes, golden

but mine always turn gray and crumble to dust.

I want to leave color,

flood these hours with more than minutes.

 

I want to leave fingerprints

so you know I was here.

But this might be a crime scene,

if it is I will take all the blame

I hope if it is the blood runs beautiful.

 

Will I remember to breathe when you’re here,

when you’re gone?

Maybe it doesn’t matter.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 5/26/17

Grounded

Folder: 
2017

I am not getting smaller,

shrinking with feeling and letting go,

putting up all my defenses

to quit the confusion and instead use your hand.

 

I am not standing too long,

shivering until my bones feel so far away,

they crack like those arches and I am the gate.

 

I am not holding too tight,

forward and back like my constant insanity.

I am not knotting these fishing line heartstrings,

catch and release like those signs used to say.

 

I am not flying or falling,

I think here I am grounded.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 5/14/17

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Territorial Imperative (An Affected Poem About Chances In Love)











Territorial Imperative 

 





You know that I could love

you with agape;

 

It is such a wonder that you

had stopped me on my way

 

But when I had to think of you

It has kept me dazed—always

 

My waking states alter day-to-day

Just for seeing your smiling face

 

A guy who would be likened

to a man, by a woman

 

It is unchartered territory,

But it could be the best one.














Author's Notes/Comments: 

Reedited 11.23.2019 (I have merely supplanted the former erroneous emendations, as indicated below in smaller fonts); 07.11.2019 (misspelling/typographical error corrections that are affecting its sense-making intended meaning-making attempts, e.g., or losinng. perhaps < or losing*, perhaps):  



"Territorial Imperative" is a poem about getting (or losing, perhaps) our chances in love.  But this is taken from my viewpoint, of my own subjective chance(s) or lack thereof—because it is relational (at the time when it was written).  The date of its composition supposedly was on 04/18/2017 at around 04:56 A.M.

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