Blog Moved

Hi Everyone,

I've switched over to the wordpress side. You can find me new blog at: wordworldwhirlwind.wordpress.com

Too Short to Slam, Too Long to Save for Later

Sometimes I swear I can feel my soul smiling

Strings across my ribcage like a pearl necklace

I’m not quite sure why I’d wear a pearl necklace

But the soul wants what the soul wants

And it string across my ribcage like a pearl necklace

A perfect parabola of compressed content

Compressing doubts and anxieties

Until they liquefy, drip, then waterfall

Leaving my soul 75% lighter
Light enough to smile.

To be clear: this is not the laughter of the soul

There is no expansive, proselytizing joy

There is no agape.

This is the absence of worry.

This is ukulele and kazoo music indoors, with a view of a sunny, 45 degree day outside.

This is my soul smiling.

Iam's

This one needs a bit more editing, but I'll throw it up there for comments/viewing.

If I wanted to be an entrepreneur

The only innovation I could offer

Would be ways to sell myself

Now I am happy

Now I am relaxed

Now I am bold

Now, I am tired of the iambs

So I would shout every trochee

If messages could actually escape me

If the sound waves could reach civilization, or nature,

Or anything outside of this Alcatraz island on which I self-wreck

I am conceptually confined

Within a prison built of bars

Of Self-hymns and self-hate

Where substantial thought

Is necessarily always worn away by the incessant brain waves

Of self-absorption, until only grated, scorching fragments

Stand under my feet

If only I could launch out to sea

For Blind Homer could see that

Helen had a face to launch a thousand ships

But I only have the hell in facing my own immobility

For I am still-sick, but I long to be motion-sick.

Long gone from this island

Where my speed of departure can only be measured

In knots that untangle in my gut

And from around the sinusoidal grip on my psyche

And so I would barter all my iam words and thoughts

To be an immigrant on a strange ship

Underneath a single Constellation that could guide me to a foreign land

Or even a whole new galaxy

Because recently self has been the only universal

In my universe of a sucking black hole

So there is no dimension

Or rather life is only 1-Dimmensional, I-Dimmensional,

But life is so much fuller

I trust

And I still remember

Therefore Give me but one frontier, the first frontier

From tears, from smiles, from here, from there

But not from me, not from I am

Give me the royal we,

Or just you

Or just he

I long for the tempest

Or Climate change

Sink this Altcataz island

And let me see if I can float.

Or if you could, build me a railway out of this prison

Strap me to a locomative and call me conductor

So it is physically possible for me to once again

soak back up external energy from

Faith

Altruism

Biology

PINEAPPLE

Next time we speak

I hope we speak of unthinkably mundane

As long as it’s not stuck in the mud of this muck

Cuz, as you’ve seen, I’m stranded by habitual choice

And am starting to go selfishly insane.

New Year's Resolution Number 11

New Year’s Resolution Number 11

Swagger

Is Mental Tickling

It is playful, mock aggression

necessarily directed at others

But please do not be alarmed

If you proceed to L.O.L. throughout the duration

Of this poem

It simply means your mentally ticklish

Yeah I’m about to swagercize all over this room

Like I had red kicks with springs at my soul

Jumping out to you

With a track jacket

That had my last name and your new favorite number on the back

That’d be my phone number

Yeahhh, I’m about to swagger

Like I was walking into a party

And pointing so much

You thought I was choreographing a scatter plot

Yeahh, I’m about to swagger so large

You’ll need a satellite that has an orbital

Going through at least 14 zodiac signs just to capture the

Full picture

Yeah, I’m about to swagger so hard

The ground might break like tension

Yeah I’m about to swagger

But first,

Maybe I should check what I’m swaggering about

Because this nagging voice I know better than most of my fb friends

Keeps asking me if I’m a confident man

Or just a con man

Because confidence is a self-congratulatory hi-five routine

It is the songs you sing in the shower

The glow that sticks when the name-drops are cropped,

The hi-fives do stop, the flirting just flops, the grades straight up drop

It is solace but also solitude.

Look, I enjoy the show of swag just as much as Kanye

And if I’m chilling at a party

I’ll rock a pair of glasses made of plastic

Whose only apparent purpose is to show

That your vision is so good

That you can still see with plastic bars

Imprisoning your forward view

But I want to know when the show’s over

And everyone’s gone somewhere

That I can slip those glasses off

And still see my grin in a reflective material or state

See, confidence might be what you’ve done, who you are

Your objectives in a relativist world

It is certainly the rare smile put on when you are by yourself

Not imagining you are in the company of others.

Cognizant of your isolation

And still smiling.

Please do not take this to mean that confidence is selfish.

It simply requires no recognition.

New Year’s Resolution Number 11: Solidify confidence

New Year’s Resolution Number 12: Establish Swagger.

Update!

What up!

It's been a long time. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more regularly in the near future, but for tonight I just wanted to post the script for a couple of new poems I've penned this year. Hopefully I can get some video up soon as well.

Best Wishes,
DKSays