moreorlessinsidious

[moreorlessinsidious]

Flawed

Those who are hurt, hurt others;

what’s god’s story?

#poetry #short poems #december #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #writing #stream of thought

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Still

I wish

that death were not the loudest noise.

#poetry #spilled words #writing #free verse #free write #short poem

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Genesis

I hold your hand

to hold you,

to feel the weight of your universe in mine,

to watch my fingers tumble and bloom,

warmed and sequestered beneath the

stars in your cigarettes.

I think about how we’re reborn in the evenings.

Clutched tightly as an infant does

to his mother, it hurts to watch us burn,

to watch us sift for ash among the air

you’ve perfumed with your voice.

I die with you.

I die with you a million times,

in a million ways, every evening

under the smallest sun,

so that I may fall in love with watching how you begin.

#poetry #spilled ink #spilled words #writing #free verse #free write #prose #poem

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War

A murder between limbs, sweetened by

sin and stars,

comes to collect us each

splintered night;

Morning,

is but an opened wound on your cliffs

a luscious spilling

oblique and loud

a tenacious swirling

held hostage in your eyes.

#poetry #spilled ink #spilled words #free verse #writing #poem #prose

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Dawn // Camp Fire

Scented arms, set aflame,

are lulled to sleep by

the sounds of heaven;

One morning,

she never spoke.

#poetry #spilled ink #spilled words #writing #free write #campfire #paradiselost #free verse

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Universe

The gods sealed,

And joyously

Pushed their eyes.

#poetry #spilled ink #spilled words #free verse #poem #writing #free write

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Genesis

I hide puzzles for you under my tongue

wrapped neatly by the air that forms when I breathe you in.

Can you taste me,

collecting the sweet dew settled patiently on your lips?

It makes me drunk...

deftly encourages that I marry brittle strings of words with ways to untangle the curves of your mouth and body.

There’s a universe I construct

using your eyes,

the spaces between you and I,

the warm destruction of us collided into muted forms,

so that you may seep into me and melt under the forged heat of my tongue;

My love,

can you taste me, yet,

dipping my earth into yours to stir you up:

marking every wonder,

solving the riddles of your flesh and textured paths,

turning sweat into wine,

hunting for chasms to fill until you uproot and break through mine?

Can you taste me, tasting you?

#poetry #spilled ink #spilled words #writing #free verse #prose

[moreorlessinsidious]

8/22/18

In all

that I lose

each night,

you

are preserved;

your sight, sounds, and

skin,

all

a thirst and petition

to trade the evening tide.

Dusk begets dawn,

and though

in your absence

my body aches,

dreaming of

you

is when

I am

most awake.

#poetry #spilled words #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #free write #prose #writing

[moreorlessinsidious]

Desert

Bizarre is one way to describe hundreds of thousands of defense mechanisms found in nature-- everything we see today is here as a direct result of it.  It’s either an endogenous process where it emerges as a retaliatory response or we entice something else in the environment to facilitate that process on our behalf-- from ants that explode on contact to seemingly benign nettles that can take down any organism hundreds of times its size from a casual brush by.  

Charmingly, the potato beetle covers itself in its own feces, sure to quickly distract from that brilliant orange sheen.   Vultures, as ugly as their bald, misshapen heads are, prevent an onslaught of bacterial overgrowth and infection to the surrounding ecosystem.  That clean, unsightly head ensures a full cleanse of the carcass and all biohazard waste-- truly, we would be more susceptible to plagues and illness in some areas without them.  Oh, and some flat out vomit if they’re hunted in the midst of enjoying their own meal.  Some leaves, sensing an impending predator, will change their chemical composition  in order to taste disgusting and force their now-confused predator to starve-- as they’ve alerted other surrounding, connected leaves to engage the same action.  The assassin bug wears an armor made of dozens of ant bodies.  Cacti, as if it isn’t already made clear of their capacity to cause harm, can present you with a painful, hallucinogenic adventure where you're confronted with every fear and nightmare from your childhood before paralysis sets in.  Even then, there’s a good chance you will still sense every moment of that insidious poison fucking up your sense of time and space.  Enlightenment likely does not occur.  

One particular cactus, the hylocerus undatus, produces a familiar, exotic dragon fruit whose exact origin we’re still not clear about.  It can be a chore to access, the skin is thick and rather annoying to get through.  Its spines are long and foreboding if you’re careless.  They produce beautiful, big flowers that smell of rich vanilla, but only at night.  Otherwise, it’s a real c*nt of a plant.  

We as humans, as diverse as we are, don’t exactly have as many overt defense mechanisms-- although I know a few people that have, unfortunately, used vomit and sharp objects as one (usually failed) strategy.  Fecal matter is a different subject.  

We have others-- large buildings and communities to contain our space and ward off the vulnerability of nature in open space.  We have tools.  Fire.  We can manipulate our environment, so much so, that there isn’t much to adapt to anymore-- and yet, we haven’t adapted and adhered ourselves to emotional pain as much as we do our screens and the transitory pleasures of life.  

I notice a correlation between doing more as we avoid more.  We’ve developed odd behaviors to prevent that soft underbelly of attachment issues from erupting and threatening psychological harm; harm that is comparable to feeling like an infant being snatched from the still-vulnerable confines a mother’s grip.  Some of us bust our ass to fight against that vulnerability more than others at their detriment using defense mechanisms that serve to eventually betray its master.  Sometimes, it takes years to develop those, and other times, all it takes is one devastating incident.  

When you meet individuals that seem bitter, hardened, sarcastic, cynical, impervious to your charms, impossible to penetrate with good intentions and care, seemingly vomiting all over your time and flinging the excrement of their past straight in your face, you have to stop and wonder-- how much have they been hurt?

Rest assured, whether they’re conscious of it or not, it’s all from a place of utter fear of exposure, risk of loss, and irreparable damage.  At some point, there truly are desires to let you in and enjoy a softer moment while wondering what it would be like to hold it a little longer; however, some of us will only bloom at night and will bear fruit for those willing to stick around.  Even then, there’s a chance it rotted.  

You don't have to fix them.  You’re not required to rescue them nor take any of it on and understand.  It’s in your own defense mechanisms to avoid such people in order to avoid the stinging nettles that their rejection can bring up for you (of course, having nothing to do with you in the first place).  

But do ask, how did it get to that point?  What was compromised?  Who failed to provide safety and betrayed a promise to assure love and acceptance when they were most exposed and trusting?

If you ARE willing to practice patience, openness, compassion, a chance to sit with them through the night to see what will bloom if it does, they’ll fragrant your life as much as anyone else and produce just as rich of an experience.  You’ll be stung in the process, more than likely-- but you could adapt and so can they.  

It pays to consider what we need people to be patient with within ourselves, to consider what brought us to where we are when those pesky, seemingly reflexive reactions and deceptively-benign behaviors break through when we’ve been hurt.  It pays to consider that of others as well who seem to reject every well-meaning gesture and connection in such a standout way.  They’re sometimes beacons on their own island for our own unresolved pain.  

Curmudgeons, nihilists, cynics, pessimists, pariahs, agitators, individuals that seemed to have given up long ago that appear to have composed haptic sensations and bonded them to emotional damage...we all still bloom.  There’s still sweetness, tenderness, warmth, gentleness, and love beneath that calloused, prickly skin.  Not all are meant to or want to tolerate it-- and that’s okay.

However, the night does promise a spectacular, ethereal encounter for those that want to stay a little longer and can be patient.  Sometimes, the sky isn’t the only thing to willing to open up if the temperature is right.

#free write #journaling #writing #metaphors

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why am i not enough

to even be told

that I am not enough

[moreorlessinsidious]

I see myself eventually breaking down long enough to become a powder.

I am sifted, the best parts of me blown away, and every revolving moon in me sits restless, just above your lip.

I’m all orbits and collisions.

I’ll stare in awe until I’m blind, making you my center.

I’ll still call you brilliant, even when I’m blind.

And I am so desperate to shine and reflect,

because I can’t create my own.

I am nothing and everything;

having become a black hole eating away at my own thoughts and the roof of your mouth...

hoping the words that I want will trickle down and tenderize a frozen tongue.

What pain that such a small, dense, masterful cluster of atomic fuckery experiences...

never ceasing to exist while it rips everything it admires apart. How familiar.

I always did want to be a star.

I guess I’ve been this whole time.

fuck.

#poetry #free write

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The spaces between death and dying

There are hardened chances I take

And the undertones of a memory on blast

has come around a river’s edge

Fingers weep down a scorching bullet

I can feel my mother’s current sweeping away

the life I had left, before she devoured my face using

the head of a pin

It’s all gasoline dreams

The Adelaide in me speaks, so it seems

It’s the only way the air could meet my stone tongue

and lead the continental drift for hands and feet

Betting you will find the scent of my arms

locked around the breath you lead

Have you consumed enough of the moon, dear mother?

Do you know who’s coming down to fill the night

with a fervor so tenacious, a juiciness that drips along the cusp

of our words

Yours were always the most ripe

bruised, cutting, filling the spaces between sinewed fibers:

thousands of your legs gripped into my skin 

It’s why I set fire to you every night, hoping the 

malice your fruit brings will invite a rot most true,

sweet,

tender,

in drunken splendor with the bones twirling beneath this sheath.

#poetry #free verse #writing #journaling #spilled thoughts #poem

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You hurt.

The closest I've come to it all

And the furthest I've been.

The whole world knows

except me.

I'm just a book.

[moreorlessinsidious]

Estrella

Destroy the body for one bone

And they will never build you a throne.

#poetry #short poem #free write #spilled ink #writing #disconnect

[moreorlessinsidious]

Still

Served beneath fire

Night harvests and consumes clean

Its own day-cracked bones 

#poetry #haiku #writing #short poem #pagan #pagan poetry

[moreorlessinsidious]

Good Night

They never came out;

Hearty, their appetites were,

Before the scented dusk huddled my massed shadows to safety

Every night, I heard their stories and laughed a joyful song to rest along the dampened sheets

made of softened tenor:

it was the softest thread my thoughts did weave.

Dawn forever returns and the shadows always ask, as if to forget what they've seen,

"why have we never met?"

"...the monsters we've read?"

They've heard me every night,

Aghast and listless

Restless and cradled

A lovely creation in this insipidly ladled mess...

There's nothing to take

Nothing to snatch

Nothing to frighten

And my feet dangle incredulously

An ornament of revelry

Proving in a celebratory swing

Monsters will never take the mother that created them.

#poetry #prose poetry #free write #free verse #creative writing

[moreorlessinsidious]

Everything I am afraid of

is everything I have mastered.

#poetry #short poem #free write #personal truths