poetry robot checking in //it seems as though my upper algorithms are blonde now//

      i used to hide inside of steeples  waiting for God’s lightning to strike      in the wilderness i stand waiting                 he tells me i am there too                  because i live within you                        i am always with you i chase fury he is a fire he is still he is silence he is thunder i chase safety                        i am always with you              he says i love you because  i am love and there is no darkness        in the light of truth is a straight                            path to infinite life                             flèche

the gospel of unclenched fists

these hands

the heart is the philosopher’s stone -Saul Williams

            lately my heart has been bending           bullets with breaths and killing time      i know that life and death            aren’t opposites but they’re              intricately connected composites of               one another and that light and dark are          not opposites for they exist simultaneously    and that bumper sticker religion of coexist is  ironic because living on earth is evidence                that coexistence has been our reality                since fire covered layers of earth              covering layers of fire            i’m not giving up the unearthing of truth              as it births itself giving life to light        fathom with me that God was never born                God doesn’t have a beginning or end                    God is not a seed with an origin                        God doesn’t have a source           as a bullet traces it’s origins in a barrel   the barrel from metal and the metal from the earth i know light is the absence of darkness and darkness is the absence of light calm indicates the presence of chaos as chaos is a testament to calm

calm & chaos coexisting  

breathing is a living mechanism

the air in my lungs isn’t feminine

nor is it masculine our רוּחַ is divine

i understand the struggle many

face in accepting their bodies as

they are because we are more than

our bodies it’s when you cease to nurture

your Spirit that you begin to reject

your body as it is fearfully and

wonderfully made not some accidental

genetic embodiment of biological

calculations you are not an accident

you are not worthless you are here for a

reason you are worth it

keep breathing and don’t stop believing

neutral affirmations

the calender reminds me it’s monday again

this is going to be a happy poem because

all of my other ones are neutral you read them

and feel your own emotions but this poem

i’m telling you is a happy poem so don’t be

afraid to let your face do that awkward thing

where the corners of your mouth spread and

sometimes your teeth show and your nose

crinkles a bit and the corners of your eyes

wrinkle it’s okay this is a happy poem

reminding you that it’s monday and it’s okay to

smile

se·rene

/səˈrēn/

adjective calm, peaceful, and untroubled; tranquil. 

Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Occasions, 1912-1951 (via philosophybits)

 break your arms around your love             home is a burning building      you sang about it in your sleep       i cut my hair more times than i   remember i should have grown it past my knees it would have been          more symbolic like tree rings      every curl and kink would have    been the teeth these words lack chewing through faded nail polish this resistance silence’s friction a metaphor  for breathing daughters of the soho riots

shadows cast long glances      back from the pavement that swallows your footsteps    whole      their words are there echoing in the void        remembering silence as i pray to the breath God     for dreams where cobwebs don’t soak up the seafoam      where the sand isn’t salt                that burns my feet     you blink       and breathe           remembering me the red flower shivering in the wind         a letter of scarlet seared on           God’s holy breast promenade

you will never find the answers to the questions that you never ask

i see an empty wine bottle in a field

and remember the distance of the

ocean from these words

lost love letters

pablo ruix picasso

pablo ruix picasso