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triumphorce · 5 years

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ladadadiddy-da

so many art,

so many dream..

so many fruits

to harvest,

like where do I start

just reach up

take one,

take bite out,

sit back, get shade

lean against tree as wind-brush against grass

blades, leaves, waves, wings, past a face in past.

in layers ascent carries to first, from last

intervene troubling nothing's by writing..

left to right, pen rollin, like bowlin ball toward pins spilt

keep truth by doing.

here.

now.

this moment.

anything can take away what we allow to.

everything takes time, that's all it should.

all effort takes away to put out.

gotta get it back,

release focus to recharge.

all work is permanent, but doesn’t determine path.

pay attention to voice inside. it’s wiser than u think.

just takes time to decipher

takes time to rise, and to sink.

takes time to develop hungerr..

..to deal with rumble, that keeps me up

keeping me up, keeping me up, but can't keep me..

when i shhould

be somewhere around, nearby,

when i shouldve found infinity already, should be in genes, should be somewhere in history. should be easy..but it would be

a mystery.

just gotta always be finna do somethin..

stay busy.

ready to depend on what’s in front to awaken insides,

i follow me, you follow you, we follow what we follow, then follow suit..

follow intuit, break out of boxes, grave escape, catapult from paula schultz’s..

batta-batta boom, paddle, paddle pattern, row thru waves to reach shore. to get thru deep waters, stay on surface, surf if you have to, & never nerf, unless it’s emergency landing, then it’s back to whistlin twisted nerve.. whistlin dixie, finish with energy empty & be glad, too. be glad to start from scratch, cause I cant actually start from scratch, just re-reach up and grab fruit, never fall too far from, never fall to not recover, better than I thought no matter how many times I thought i wasnt, reward blind work ethic, oh boy, oh boy. chocolate chips ahoy. polished mint-conditioned, velociraptor-fixed, sawed-off shotgun swift strength in a pinch, thin as edge shot of vodka takes off, box of chocolates-enrich anything i come across in life, and stay in light of all of it, remain locked in reversible-reflective armor, and reflect in hardship, still light as dove w/ olive b. in beak, or partridge in bear teeth..swallow whole, jargon-vomit, morose bard, whose bars reciprocate to true recipient, parting parliament thru-out lifetime, division between following and following me, pls pardon me if i come off as pretentious, got a lot to say, holdin mad weight in socratic folds, boa-break-bones with hold on control of flow in drafts, drift past cold, hot, right to normal, right to on track, right back, might smoke two packs before the night, but prolly not, just gotta rhyme, rap, boa-rap, mo'an-anaconda on course to andromeda, flunked courses to voyage, flourish, instead got flustered, stuck in funk, a punk fersure, but I bank on the next the day,bunk above anything not me, get sleep without much effort,get shit done without lunch, breakfast’s the rush,driven by words and push of buttons, lyric-glutton,seer of whats in,get that out, find whats under, shine in time,with time spent in wonder of what that time meant . my oh my. fin.

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triumphorce · 5 years

Text

why only patterns

why is coincidence exaggerated

why is acclimating so restrictive

why's conscience a memorized role

why doesn't nuance matter

why can't we ask questions more

why cant we mean it when we say we'll

seek truth, speak, too, to see each other thru

and be the proof we believe is missing to see peace exists

in each of us, to do someething with hands, heads, to have purpose, to give it

to just learn

shit.

observe the ride.

awhh shit,

sounds perfect.

aww shit, put work in,

cause I made a promise that none'a y'all know about.

so I look crazy. But

made a goal you only see when you see how much i wrote, when I do anything, you see its meta-form

i..

see it everyday, i see the glow, bruce leeroy, roy melee over-b, wasting time if I don't

be the be

everyday,

be all i can be,

then recycle rest, recycle, rest

dont question, no wait, do, unless it contradicts progress, or makes first step a doozy

when it should be as easy as two, three

the hard part is waking up restarting acceptance process that I've worked hard enough

usually pacified by mindset that as long as i have time to, ima put in work, work, work, till pride is just along for rideee, too

till im just a guy in the sky who likes to think he's seuss, gotta dedicate to be what you believe you are, drive from purpose, purpose shines in light of who we are, follow the signs, no design, just a feeling leading insides,

at least leading mine. at least i listen.

at least im here. at minimum i can choose to do something with every second running by, carrying pieces of history & dreams, or just let them do what they do and mind mine in the now, right now, write now, draw, paint, scalpel-shave clay, mold with hands, carve wood, make now, create now, dance now, music up, vibe loud, none bad allowed. doesnt matter, do from home, from zone, from heart, avoid excuses, obligation is your own, just do if and when it comes, never feel as if you cant, always find a way to stand, unless it goes against intent, worry naught, apply you and keep eyes where hands meet desires

never turn fire off..

what now?

the only question i need to give me courage

fin.

be true. reach toward what you see you're capable, with open mind and believe in nothing but all you do, can do, & all you did to make you, you.

finagain

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triumphorce · 5 years

Text

hurt to wiser,

learn to save time,

bring reimbursement I find in word searches, then

change perception, thus effects of present-to-past tense progression..

splurge surplus all on figurin out how to detect worth,

spell out purpose, hear myself

& i find that via tryin that,

tryin this,

startin somewhere near origin

but here I am

lookin for more again

when

somebody just picked up pen, or put digits to screen to express in art form, for the first time... now ain't that worth the mention? like aint that worth just one more sentence? some sentient is out there stickin neck out to chance a glimpse, somewhere...someone just finished their last, ..somewhere..somebody just never finished... somebody's just sitting with empty page wishin it would all come in instance, or leave body with some sort of sense to it, some sorta rhythm, some kinda connection, unlock intentions to tap clocks, like let's go i got a lot to jot, lotta sidewalk to jog, lotta cars to park, to find some kinda bottom, work way up for like the ten-thousandth time, to find, for like the thousandth time, somethin close to sound; whole life a rhyme;whole time ive been fine; branchiate-audible, whole side of mountain couldnt drown out one drop from spinal, couldn't drown out a dropout even if i had a ton tied to tongue, brain fried under heat of pressure, but conditions intuition, in the end, to handle temper better, hold water in chakra channels, cyclic plan to try and redo, keto-kettle-gordo-gourd, go go guard up, katara-gaara, zuko-hold on own candle up to myself, 'til completion, 'til im outta options, 'til deletion, till next life, if there is one, by filling this one, with experience, memories, collage of feeling, seeking, healing, writing, wielding passion to amass sun in middle of chest, put all on pages in hopes just a fraction makes it

thru the ages.

Fin

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triumphorce · 5 years

Text

hanging on, dangling

over crazy shit

swaying

thru existence

loose to instrumentalz,

hang heavy to pencil.

dry heave creativity..

dizzy,

dodging

everything falling,

stop all,

stop.

all pause.

go-lo, off radar,cupped to-go-joe,

wired

mind live

run home,

which is away from house

apartment

far far,

like far far

out in middle of map of life, no tar, no politics, no drama, no people.

no nothing.

just bars and stars, needle in peep holes, threading immediate surroundings, never feel defeat, full of reason past the pull of ideas to compete, stay original to stay sharp, to create, never know dull, never know ordinary, no more normal

no...

no more normal not enough.

no more more than

unless it involves moleskine

more in than yesterday,

everyday

more than a weary-query-er, ima racer, lungs encase doubt, escape out, I'm the spare key, very very rare, pink fairies spawn from chest area.....

thats a zelda reference, just'a

nintendo well-to-do little lad

tryna rap, impress myself,

make self laugh.

play patty pat

pat, patty cake,

bake from box,

make mary mac, main dish a krabby patty,

blast back to before when black berries tasted best, place plastic over past, passion, larynx, & practice. pit passages against passages on top of topics on depth of passages i have daily inside of myself, mend mind high over matter,now is over, is always over, now is after,better grab, grab, shift, adapt, keep up,plskeepup,crazy how time passes,better snap pics,be glad,shit,life goes like magic, so anxiety got me maxed out, better than I was half a second ago every second ago, boy i chase birds for quills, seek better repoire with written, "wanna'be- verbal-words", portion of brain's will to explain a life full of eye fulls, lore an extension cord to connect reality to intuition, decision to forfeit formality because of repetition and over simplifying of what we're capable, get relations up between who I consider me to be and reactions to world I'll never see all of, build everyday, but it costs to preserve fields for thoughts to play, take focus off being serious, as following leads to fear mirroring peace..

fin

#dps #deadpoet

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triumphorce · 5 years

Text

i..

pick up pen,

& sometimes don’t write.

hours go by..

most

the

time

i end up in dark room,

falling

farther

behind..

while still sittin where i started

attemptin to pick up pieces

left to keep from getting loster,

long ago..i fostered hope, and hid it

in what you see in poems ,

to not feel so alone..

but i hid it all too well, it seems, i can no longer see reason for memories, they just come and leave..

like how i pick up phone

and dont pick up..

slide ignore,

no will to answer..

startin to feel

like there's no time to,

but then like..there's no time

not to

stuck in, in between moments of a hardly cherished childhood, and blur of early adult adventures

still stuck in..

'99, '05..

still stuck in computer

acer desktop..

ROMs all fuckin summer..

interrupted by chores & reading lists,

like what the fuck

still stuck in goosebumps..

redwall..

narnia...

still stuck in friday nights, fruit juices,

blue doritos, the bro, nintendo cartridges..

still stuck on torn pages of worn walkthrough, to me a tome on how to hero..

still stuck on that page written years ago that started many starts...

finishes..

starts that never finish,

starts to a myriad of beginnin's,

embark, embark, embark,

my favorite word,

try to put it every sentence,

without puttin in every sentence,

oh, days of outdoor excursion,

down thru inclimate creation..

back when it was just me and cousin; wake up, phone call, work on story, breakfast, story, lunch, story, walk, story, school, story, holidays w/ family, pay social tithes and then we outside, story.. sleep, dream, story, repeat. then repeat again

never surrender, even though ive consider ed..

ten toes a castle's keep.on the run,tho.throughdiscourse.

I blast&sweep,

solo go @ it,

i already forfeited spot of hope for blind reproach, always, always..stuck in..

still stuck in bucket, next to two tears, years pass and guess who's there..

i, tis i

maaann

you know what?

fuck it.

still tryna write the perfect everything

but progression since has been...ehhh, what it's worth, whatever it's worth, but what's better than self support,

nothing.

but whats more important..

self remorse, self control.

but im still workin, no,

always will be working, but

still stuck in roleplays, still up in

Lanowen, in my head..

linger-larry still stuck in time spent

a long line, a lotta primes, always better, but only than i, & i always recognized growth, always set agenda,

always testing, testy-tesla, uninterrupted thought, scared to skip, fear of imperfection..

ohp,

there go that word again.

here it goes again, a third person version of everyday life, a service, or disservice, i can't really say, so I keep workin

still stuck in tunnel vision, hollow logged walk, from start to another start

evenings of just me

writing, writing, imitating lupe, mimic shady,

still rhyming

like it

make the lights work

still perpetuating ideas that require pressure

still in ideas that require special attention

all of life,

yep, in my mind, nope, I ain’t got a line

that won’t take me to another..

that don’t satisfy expectations of time spent.

im good for another hundred

years

sometimes i pick up pen

out of habit.

sometimes out of passion..

either way im stuck on paper till im passin

fin.

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triumphorce · 5 years

Text

travel backward,

marvel at acronyms,

sunrise..

initials..

early afternoon..

abbreviations,

pickin fork thru dinner

initial acts of de-liberation,

shortened versions of life events..

compact past,

a purse-full.

strapped to shoulder.

carry on,

during flights back to future.

a.k.a. the present..

once there,

in the now, i

bake in the fray..

use to it,

a part of survival

jot notes, block, block outside

but write about it,

and how it affects personal

had to track down, crack down..

on the scene,

let latch up.

which has different meaning

d'pending on how you look at it

special

retina-recognition required for permission..

to access massive-mess of mass-discretion in public ledger

break away path's progression like a single droplet

down mountain-side

tear eyed, dreary to accept I'm not where'd i say id be by

this time,

or near any adjustments after

gave up some time ago chasing passion

and let previous velocity carry body

free drift, days off spent preparing bodies of words

voluptuous figures..

thic, my shawties thic..

write to carry weight of insignificance

then,

finally, after letting go,

I found I needn't hold to ,

to begin with..

surface directly beneath has always been there..

along with

myself waitin for chance to break trance that the real me’s been in

everything easier lookin back,

not because i see solutions to,

or “supposed to do”’s

but b’cause i see where i shouldve looked for love.

fin

0 notes

triumphorce · 5 years

Text

Somethin

somethin

yea

blah

k, there’s the intro

i just dump

'scuse tha mess,

messy,

everything,everywhere

thoughts runnin,

vibrations & buzzes

busy bee

busy bic,

pen, or flint..

as I

web-spread ideas on sheets

composed & strewn

across several platforms, thru out a lifetime of learning

outlets for discourse,

that i now know i take, took for granted,

abuse ability to,

& potential i thought would ~poof~

appear, out of nowhere

as long as i don't go nowhere,

stay in room, stay in neighborhood,

stay in dorm, in uniform,

stay in apartment,

stay writin',

stay sayin im writin, when i might be lying,

procrastinating by any means,

but no mind it, so long as no one finds out,

and besides

by then it'll be time

to bounce, find new people

to hide in front of,

wherever i go,

stay writing.. stay sayin I'm writing

cause I think people want to hear more,

stay sayin ima do it to make a living

cause I think people wanna hear more,

stay writing cause I wanna know if I can explain more,

....

take the weight of..what it takes to do

no more lying to self, subtle rise,

nothing set in stone

try to

see self as self is

nothing more a mess than nothingness

propel w/ expression of existence

hopeful, or humble

one a preparate for failure,

the other

for when i predict I'll hestitate to judgment

cause im sure i will..

was so sure in will..

you never know how people feel

you never know, so never reveal,

never open up to get close to

only to embrace soul, trust you

never

sleepy,

if im dreamin,

up,

worried bout next move,

next day,

next fuck up, next come up

next change..

one step further from closure

one step closer

to its renewal.

fin.

0 notes

triumphorce · 5 years

Text

under stars that feel as far as

real does..

at the moment.

at any moment..

kidnap me.

any chance presented

& in moments prior.

spent alone

zone.

far from progress.

stasis,

stationed next to

hope & regret.

on either side.

stamina. breathe now

to breathe more.

no free will.

i got to survive.

i got to make it,

especially if i just change aim

change rim-height,

relate with reality

change chin height,

keep head up,

lower expectations

keep pen up.

can’t make shit up,

so i make this shit up

dig deep, drain soon as i wake up

from sleep, or conscious nap..

break up

buildup

of words

that

feel

millions.

euphoric

ultimatum;

write,

or just

waste.

can’t wait

to post, create.

post haste

long ass roads that really dont have

an end, or means to.

I just become more of

whatever comes;

whatever emotions

i allow;

however

i react;

whoever,wherever,

when tf ever

‘cause all i am

is now, here.

a little more conscious..

that’s it.

&the more i remember,

the more i forget.

gotta pick and choose.

careful.

careful, please.

carefully

cut ties, choose way

‘cause by the time it's time to remember

new knew's

once was' just can’t keep up

and i accidentally

delete something

important,

or distort it..

gotta

slow down

life...

ssssshhheesh

i once was in less pieces,

&I at least, once, knew peace, but didn’t know it,

more than likely still do

staring at sky blue.

so blue..

eyes find it soothes

waiting on.

bus late.

contemplating, mind rages

sea

lost in deep

hue pool

sharp, wind wrapping body.

waitin on,

waiting on.

contemplating. gone.

daydreamin way thru life.

thru the little things

i always belittled.

cause I thought I had what i needed. or what I had was mine to keep.

...just because.

i need a little more somethin

a little more new, more original stop cliches, tropes,& archetypes in general

droll,

repetition equals learning, well i'll just lurn-less

beg to differ, by beggin questions, even when forced to tread slow,&only do so in head.

we’re all middlemen.

just fiddlin’

‘round in world,

in universe,

riddled withh riddles,

that

trickle,

drip

complex

descent

from cognitive

beginnings.

ephemeral glimpses of outside-nighttime-world,

through blinds in bed, as a child to now, still just as far from.

as far as real feels.

feelin nothing like how I do now.

but pain passes,

so it just must be my brain's capacity for trust shrank. & elaborates time taken for to cross neural pathways,

not get lost, and make it back safe save, all at the same time, while i attempt to ignore age

pay mind solely to the idea i can do, &I don't have to prove.

to become honest, so potential growth is optimum to be one with me, and know I can't ever be anything but and no idea is ever done, no matter finished, no grey matter greyer, no more dr. bender's, no more directions, no more winners, reflect on self, &what it means-to be better, i deflect defects w/ skylark teeth,

a truer sense of.. truth

a higher level basic

newfound fundamentals

that all the world and creation in it,

then, now, or later

are truly small

no life was ever finished

nobody wants to give it up,but we learn to

and as a consequence return to world what we wish to see beyond our existence

to find trust again love again feel again believe again hurry up, clock's tickin

get it, grind look and find get inspired go inspire go perspire run a mile two three four

five seconds six seconds

gotta go for it gotta get better,

never listen only instrumentalz for me

in a room aspire to be able to define my every rhyme and reason behind thoughts had,

itchin to stay consistent, keep on writing and don't worry about why, keep on filing tomes of dreams, ordering guides to self, from one idea to a whole library of shit I did,

like,

"oh, damn kid, you wrote that?"

damn right I did.

conversations that I have in my head

while I reread pieces

an elixir, a pensive remedy

for when I feel reluctant toward

reality, when in reality

it's really just the people around me that I trusted, busted ass for, gave up past for filled up gigabytes, sticky notes, notepads for designed a whole world for,

put off parties, friends, a part of me I never gave a chance for. became an outcast for. put on mask for.

to be compared and not contrasted warned and not encouraged critiqued but not heard

made me want

to tell, create a story and not give a damn about glory.

although i worry how i come off..sometimes..

made me

change style time after time for some time, now..

made me have

to boost own confidence, own own ego; inflate like raft, & float to shore,

common ground with action &

focused on

how I'm amounting in life.

..apparently

im just climbing up invisible

mountains

but i don't let it make or break me,

used to,

but no more ,& nowit's just me.

&that's just crazy..

so im focused

on how im a mountain lion to moles tryna troll, but most the time, tho I'm...focused on settling score with where I've failed

& failed to respond to failure well

let go

of initiative, hung to anger

in orbit around regret towards doors left unopened, words unspoken to people gone, that could've changed life, if only They could hear these thoughts.. if only I had someone to talk to besides myself, & people that talk to high-five themselves; given approval never sought, advice for battles never fought, in a room for most of youth, stuck in head, so much to see, explore lore of stories never written, so much done even before i decided to pick pen up, before i decided I was ready for commitment decisions in head turn to an every 5 minute thing,

stuck in holes deeper than before

tell-tale signs around sub-subconscious that Im chasin nothin..

apparitions..

in front of people

waitin somethin fierce

for me to

summon what's already there

a mirror image of miracle from thinnest air from holes put in life for pride in pages of jumbled thoughts gaps in memories for drafts that define ironic, describing fine lines I believe are there, in thinnest mirror, between me and experience in eyes that remind me i am less, i am more i am worse, i am better everything in between all and nothing, not objective, but an object capable of observation, own purpose assigned no more worth than yours, no more than I have dealt my self chances missed to live for product tossed or lost in the end

x's & lines through a mind confused, backspaces scribbles procrastinating daily, delaying the inevitable, staring at.. ...coffee steam and letters linked in ink curves and ink in nerves

on nights only sleep's deferred as vivid as yesterdays and scenes in head of tomorrows mixed in with skips in consciousness obvious options almost always missed second guesses linger in gut like wtf

what the fuck am i doing everyday, if I don't contribute to future

to believe, or not to believe i was in control of will was the whole problem let go of all it hone on goals. fly low, that is...

as far a stretch as breath of desire to contribute to the world believing if chance exists, i will succeed I will fulfill promises thru notepads & audience

a caged bird singing

do or do not.

seems all I've done is try, it seems to try isnt good enough, seems what they want from me wasn't what I was told they want, which is for me to want from me & instead what they want to see is what they want to see

me to become this and not my own, no matter how many hours spent, no matter the font, text, or etiquette formed to gain attention, but apparently a proper use of improper use of prose prospered overtime & i kept my posture, keep me from losing self, going crazy, letting people make me think something's not okay, or wrong with me, or out of whack off top, not taken seriously

priorities of the majority of society made it difficult to captivate eyes, and garner respect, because of conflictive internal contradictions to set out for what I thought was spreading message, but was embedding judgment of self, & effort, looking at motives that been made a home in heart like they suspect, but they was who fucked with me when I wouldn't even fuck with me, wanna be someone else, something else, like what you want clave?

to wait for mine..

psh, nnn’eh, thinking I was good enough to be taken seriously ..

thinking there was nothing to do, but to do, but something changed course, one day,

one day atta time

thinking that I was right behind, could just lift up arm and touch but that wasn't the case, ever, constant race

couldn't hold on, couldn't hide the pain to psyche out greatest opponent, me

didn't want to, saw no point

repeating and repeating, over and again

so on and so forth, thus forth destroying self convinced I couldn't help it and still am

and still can't

accept I ever gave in, broke under pressure, buckled under what some would chuckle over, no pity, just recognition of jimity's petition to push when pushed, with thoughts into written gale force, in a position to always hope, so when foundation crumbles, there's another one up under

if not, I use earth to wander.

whether with excess of momentum or subsiding in subtle realization of sustenance behind life's work

purpose on course set to find reward I'm told I'm looking for..

fin

#poem #dps #clavevesari

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triumphorce · 5 years

Text

under umbras of bundles of stars,

canopies of leaves & branches that shatter-scatter sky image held indirect

as a gleam in eyes

as conscious lay in fabricated gardens watching memories, & desires in dream form

from across highway covered by

blue-white,

yellow,

& orange lights

sound of tires, mufflers, sirens,

amidst a higher sense

attuned to

muffled far cries muffled while crossing empty lands

filled with chilling wind howls, stealing hope,

which

kickstarts the power on survival mode..

ups& downs

drown the cries further,

that

war, warn, or cheer..

or just sing..

maybe

a hymn made by souls for souls under same umbra to set free to lead to wonder & beauty beyond the surface of senses directly to free to seek love loss between me and me

buried beneath road of longest journey to reach

turn feet all around

all about a world I have no idea about

just mad ideas about Kept in journals i turn over

to all but from in front of views not yet exploited by value of which is, views are power, & are the will in word- to-page transaction

self diminished to substantiate

entries from entrails, not shown to be conquered

win or lose is how I never saw things.

win or win, only optionss, only progress..

yet..,always over complicating;

marathon sprints from start to finish

as I choose, If i choose, to continue to choose to overlook slopes in existence, where hides I, in ruins, digging for recognition

contribute to a mind overloading with what I know I owe society, &me,

burden of see-through beast, I see illusions of future thru,mistaken as truth, play victim, get stressed or believe I'm down on luck ,in dumps of depression and slum of beliefs,

in a slump with headphones on temple and music up, reminisce about the golden olden, me and broseph, SSB, PSO, kanto, johto, cartoon cartoons, many one saturday morning’s, plenty cinnamon toast, fruity pebbles, so many card games at Books-a-million

but when I open eyes from trance

I'm forever face to face with today is today

not then not later...

just

changes who changed how I changed regret and anger to compensate for blaming everybody but me

now I stare afraid at dilemmas mass effect decisions

daily in-and-out-terventions

to keep from falling back into resentment.. spite blinding shelves of subconscious-self- disappointed perpetuating judgment of others binding progression, tying tongue, boiling blood because old habits die hard and I continue fucking up, up raging rapids w/o a paddle, almost 3 decades of failing infinite (according to projections) feel I missed and am missing out on so much, so much world, so many words coiled inside, waiting to explode,

all the time, just like everybody.. everything mind sets sights on turns to target issue how unfortunate for aforementioned coordinates, for anyone close enough for me to put in poems' , important enough to torment conscious over, used to be everybody, used to be nobody, used to be just some people, now its just me and i dont know him

attempts to speak, to learn again, to teach me about me to learn to teach myself, to set example for ambition directed toward a better version, better verses, better reimbursement of time given tryna be an extrovert, free from bitter, free from bitch asses, set internal standards to never get fucked with again, fuck you, fuck him, fuck her, i only fucks with a journal & question everyone, everything, every word, every whisper, shit ima tell my children every day, breakfast lunch dinner, do your best and fuck the rest, get it, get lit off enlightenment, fuck rest, save roosting for death, dont look at me, looknat the sky, seize the day in everyway brain permits, dont reach for others' and if anyone tries to take yours, that means they dont fundamentally respect life, so always permeate passion, ignore distractions keeping you from creating, test limits, test intentions, challenge imperfections with wisdom, know that perfect is just cosmetics, but i remain quiet.. remain tied up being alone, wondering.. whether I'm right to do any god damn thing 'cause if I don't do it right.. was I right to think I could, wrong to think I understood

am i wrong not to try?

what of what's sacrificed ?

how do i keep count

how did I end up here in standby...

standing squeamish & deer eyed in light of opportunities rising in horizon of night skies, to step in to obtain warmth, maintain from days before, to do something, do the one thing, but when will I be ready will eyes be ready to comprehend right or wrong

only me, here. only us, on planet.

only who's responsible? how is who is affected by, afflicted by? when is too late? when is just right, always too soon to tell and.. if I don't do it now, then why expect change..

why, why, why

'cause I expect anything at all

anger toward unmanned vehicles imminent to collide with mine

driven mad up eighty-five degree angled walls during rush hour, sun beaming heat into ride, where i travel on path, thru battlefield of past where fallen intentions decompose to ignorance and wisdom sprouts in the mean time.. I'm in between times, feelin down, down down down down by the way

a trail thru fears past dead ends, rotting trees, looks like fallout hit

a past I try an' forget..

but remember out of reluctance

to accidentally revisit regret,

stand next to biggest fears, see if facing them uproots soul

rolls ideas in head, non-stop

like trolls troll under bridges

to which billy goat gruff temper charges like crono's katana on zenan crossing,

lodes of odes to oaths, lightning loaded, aimed at negative minded sapiens bioshocks via rhythm and syntax, cryo cascades of ideas, locked away in moleskine or computer files to put to rest the rest of an inside in arrest to judgment, in side quest of public playthrough, i feel im on public display, static complaining in front of pretty much strangers modes of awareness to mental problems i exploit to people who might not think im crazy, who might like what i write, might like to write about the same thing, might see giants in those same nodes i stand near, i hear crisp crackles filling an awkward air as i stare at words on sheets that i might tear, might let collect dust, or share prolly might be quiet, only sound is poetic drafts that fill in under open windows, I open slowly, cool rush, goosebumps, awake aware always, even when mind is a crinkled, crumbled candy wrapper still just construct wrinkles in time via hairs stand, ovation, and encores to

helping to cross over doubts, screams of slander, stop it all, right now, shed truth in another light, fed through veins like pen's ink to go over and correct vision of pinheads vane turnin art, free thought to cash and competition, trade purpose blow for blow with obstacles in the name of the next step, over opponents, trade nervous for nerves robust to withstand standing up to stretch and spread chest to stand up for work where time invested is braided circulation goin in circles, time wasted pet peeve number 1

a nowhere never felt before but something seems familiar.. overlooked, under yards, under pressure of bone leverage, give life a lift thru cracks of a collapsing effort stretched behind chest and ribs

a heart glows in

hot coal hues hearth warmth under carbon sheets

till blood boils till steam coils from pores to kill the cold along roads

sun or none

no light above, isn't lack of..

(look inside)

----

harsh heat of reality hot enough to feel cold

make me go ghost in dark times..

friction strong enough to spark moist..

continue until i sear nerves disembody fromm pain till im felt by meta-form of others

heartfelt arcs between soul and soul-mind 2 mind

light releases thru iris folds spectacle in spectacles----

spectrum wheel of emotions spins &spins to understand self an urge that intensifies the more i live life as well as I can Improve every day, no excuse, don't ignore the corners, get behind my ears,every nook and cranny in creative muse-um, uhm, duh, raised on books, nintendo, animation,& wishbone, outside, only myself as playdate, use every square inch as play-scape under every hair in head, a mind uses face and body as way to create 4 fourever& vice versa to escape who ever & know I can do whenever, wherever

wherever i go, a voice in mind goes

that keeps on talkin , keeps me talkin tellin me I've talk--, wrote enough hoped enough to last a lifetime, but that's not enough

and I still got a lifetime

to either solidify or fuck it up

gradually let go of

to concentrate on life's finest moments i build to build form in appreciation, saying get up, enjoy the sun rays breaching clouds just before dawn; gett off yo butt and do what you know what you taught you to do when you were at multiple low points and you promised you, you'd never fall to end, even if you fall again, again, and again, never stall in the middle of takeoff stop in middle of road, cant press play if you lost remote, might as well get up and do it, crawl, run or walk away when the times calls to brawl dark-inner energy only honorable mentions defend health during dishonorable discharge of nega, into rivers, into blue sky.. bordered by white clouds and linear silver

a safe place, work space, desk clerk sifting day to day thru file cabinets memories in memos in notebook; written relativity explaining how I see, what I think say what i want like im eight, glad i spent so much time with words and space-bars, to escape judgment, hatred,

anxious surrounded by bad vibes

above an Earth, below expectations; over a self under surveillance by approval from inside, crazy dimensions, On the fence between people and myself I close eyes, ride waves of nostalgia once more..

see plenty light to traverse pathways, walk fer hours, walk like back in younger days, playin, runnin, completely captivated immersed in games played, tv, roller blades, monopoly, scary stories, trampolines

&10thousand songs later, 10million thoughts later, here I am doing what I made me to.

can't wait for the next chance

supplied energy through lines to hidden gracelands.

1 note · View note

triumphorce · 5 years

Text

a break from

truth.

a gap between,

proofs.

i wane to fit.

i hide.

i hate tryin

i hate how weak

i am

i hate myself for tryin..

the same ideas

unfinished craves

to be creative

i hide

finally cry

finally bleed

find a fix

wean heart off of

weening

become arbiter to all of it:

what’s right.

what’s wrong.

detox my life

discard a collective mean of impartial meaning kept to concrete-fill existence’s form boards

of an abstract being.

as dna directs rna to bar empty genes

& ignore the hollow parts

that look good, but ain’t worth shit

ain’t really workin’

make me, later, blow off life

&, also, make it hard to breathe

‘cause of leaks in logic

holes as small as pin heads

where angels samba …

stop..

close off

all corridors &

linear modes of thought

replace with rows & rows

of doors, unlocked by questions

a quest to remove walls

review, review,

review

wee, minute,

fine lines

w-w-w-woah use th-th-th-those

la-la-la-lines to r-r-r-row

row

attempting more

and more

to be like wah-ta

a bruce lee on loose leaf

acute aim toward problems

as keen as jeet kune

i just

i do, i do i do, ouuuhhh

jute topics to string theories,

align on inner-sheaves &

lift liquid

from wells of inquisition.

then, use as mirror

& connect wit’ me on molecular level, to

achieve achieve achieve

achieve peace

put pieces

back together

to mean

something

find self lost near dreams

where fears become the opposite

from awake,

in illusions that I’m on top of

mountains, that are

really molehills,

to eternal rest,

in valleys, really reality,

harsh, but accountable..

it hurts, but works..

i reflect..

as i

stare down reflection.

a single memory,

now eye to eye:

of a decision to dismember

& refuse to remember what ruins:

being my attachment to humans.

people closest,

blind to feelings

deaf to words spoken

who forget

(((literally,

every conversation

the same as the last

and if i call it out,

you can see in their eyes,

that they either

really don’t recall or….

are so caught up in lies, that

an auto-response triggers amnesia

——-

silent alarms ringing

in subconscious signalling

flight or fight,

to sink or swim,

———

to show they’d rather defend,

than spare me insanity..

collapsing, relapsing in on self

addicted to trust,

so i question actions

question what’s been natural

since adolescence

a curious boy since

marvin the ape, george

& yellow hats )))

who then become punitive

with mouth full of ammunition

attack, attack, attackattack,

yackyackyackyackyackyack

oh my god, stop stop stop

get back, get back, get back

i’ll prolly snap, prolly s'pose to pop pills

like everyone else

but, nah, i’m chill, I was..

told to not assimilate with likes of evil,

which now happens to be likes of those very same people.

who

made me romanticize what i would later be forced to force to die.

hands around throat, hands around my own throat used to speak freely to learn, to have to must up some courage just to word shit

but i must assure, tho’

i must so much,

my must

has a must,

much like

mustard’s

-mustard,

lettuce,

turkey.-

make

own

‘wiches

make my own wishes

& set up self for failure

when setting up expectations

building up belief

i can influence beyond my medulla

like that’s the only reason why,

or only way i should do shit

i know

so i, so i

change view

bind pursuit with ignorance

symbiotic guidance

to be, to be,

to be an ember in wind

use breeze as breath..

as breath…

as breath,

i breathe in

brimstone, ignite with

right to

choose to choose to..

write for the sake of doing,

& being able to.

fin

2 notes · View notes

triumphorce · 5 years

Text

topic

topic.

pick one.

anyone.

someone..

cherry pickin discussion

carry a steady stream

in hopes it allots fish;

a lotta food for a pisces, but i

don't even like astrology,

but it's

somethin to talk about

so i do,..

don't even like myself,

sometimes

two sides,

front in society,

the back hidden in reality

one a face, the other a brain,

one sees, the other is seen

one speaks,

while the other dreams behind iris,

asleep on the job

another way to take eyes off obvious darkness

the overtime just annoying rotted root of depression in the way of every step in..

to light,..dreams,

into a world every morning I awake,

close to memories

of waiting by front door

staring outside at storm clouds~

rainy day~

school day..

already ready,

hyper aware,

anticipating,

anticipating..

a radiant ignorance,

protection from what would eventually become mental infliction

an obsessive intuition

in the making,

focus in wrong areas,

a slight divergence that

grows to greater desertion from original projected path, gaps in purpose..

disaster, disaster, distraction, different version, difficult interpretation of what was real then and real now, so I submit to nilh, and allow absence, &loneliness to fill, find sustenance in what may be waste to others, recycle to see if basic is actually just a cover up by people with serious af egos, but im just an overthinker and i love it, i love the layers, i love the details and wonder days on end, in hope days dont end, observing until it hurts and sometimes i hate it, contemplating whether it will work, will it fit in schedule, how much did i change since, how much work ive put in and it all becomes too much to always pay attention;

wisdom i wouldn't attain until it was too late to actually make efficient difference, but ive back-tracked, overlapped, chasin tales, mostly rash, but my chosen path, nonetheless, so I align in time, ignore what's behind, appreciate it, but know what's inside is what was ignored then and can't be any longer, couldve already died, -poof- no more, like that but im here writing, fighting, finding new ways to see, live, smile, breathe winds, run free, triumph, for i am the reason for rise, decline, how effects affect, how i do anything comes from choice, stepping into unknown, slow steps, but i step at minimum, progress at the slightest, but that's whats required of greater aptitude for patience, as hard work mirrors density of purpose, tact, use of nuance, and preparation for failure..

and don't ever worry of what will come when you aint lookin, work on whatever, whenever you feel like, feels right, try everything, explore your mind, take both paths; least and most traveled; just do; so much done, yet more undone; never stop.

nothing new under sun,

but that's relative,

perspective makes every day unique,

thus, anything its light runs over.

shine.

fin

1 note · View note

triumphorce · 6 years

Text

i see

another way

a shimmer

of light, a glyph

of parity, a gift

at the start of

each day...

each notion to..

move forward,

approach humbly,

another chance awaits

that only bargains change..

just a pinch .

begs for just a piece of courage

to keep heart in check & then speak out..

just a little bit

take another step again

another chance that barters justice..

for hardened will, garnered in

order

to become autonomy

to a life

the product of thoughts..

where

i watch,

i pay attention

@ times, too much

i watch

i day dream

either way

i live,

i grow,

i watch, i hear, i record

i was only ever taught to follow

only told to be a leader.

small world.

hollow me,

fill me

with lack of

confidence.

&slap me silly;

snap me out of feeling..

emotions.

keep me from free thought..

(my body tryna tell me i need healing)

nah... fuck that.

no details

no "no thinking too deep"

(like what the fuck that mean?) ((<--- like asking that, would even be too much. and apparently is rhetorical to motherfuckers who "know" what they wanna say, but can't, so repeat a phrase, speak ij in oracle, know they use to ask in same ways, seek things, seek same depths, but now they left, cause toes got stepped on, instead of having backbone, they slept wrong, and wanna wake up to doom & gloom, pulled to a foul mood))

cause it's better to focus on what?

apparently stress.

apparently how

someone else is less,

but just go ahead

stress self out. build character.

---_they say.---_

focus on target.

cause everything’s a competition

say people faces, subconscious promotion

.. say reactions

says

to value

and i gotta win

gotta put pen to pedal

every page

i gotta prove something to me

that i can prove to people

what i want,

when i want

..or is what i want truly that?

cause i never looked in me for guidance

i only knew i should know what people wanted to see, & that wasn’t in me,

so it’s somewhere else

gotta be..logically.

in someone else.

someone dead. someone i don’t know yet,

shit, trees, rocks had more to offer in wisdom than i thought i had in me

on second thought, in wisdom i never sought from within to begin with

so i couldn’t not like me, i only hated the illusion of who i was becoming,

and that, that illusion was really true me

making best days, my worst

and vice versa.

off beat with existence

so after process of elimination

to find innate talent,

i stayed to staying with

out of fear fostered to fall behind,

die alive, lie awake scared to sleep any,

lose any time

gottta write, gotta do, gotta go, dawg, go, show the world

that i gotta new metaphor,

another revelation in deca-entendre form.

another million words

in just one shard of broken potential

fragmented only by perspective.

fin

#dps #poem #poetry

19 notes · View notes

triumphorce · 6 years

Text

no body is worth judging yourself over

no body is worth hurting yourself over.

do not observe yourself so closely.

just breathe.

do nothing.

see yourself as better, as happy..

block the world until it’s clear, the lights, the sounds, the energy

and let nothing stop you from reaching

not tears, cry

not fears, embrace them

as you will always face the unknown..

not doubt, not regret,

nothing.

you are all you will ever be

and that is all you will ever need.

- n.t.self

7 notes · View notes

triumphorce · 6 years

Text

untitled tidal force

wild ride from origin

a vibrant

pulse..

leading

light years

on course,

toward corners

always forming

on board a

single breath.

plethora furled

pour.

all in order.

all to order

cause, effect;

diffusion of p.o.l.r.

an in the making,

that makes

chaos normal.

a range, bound by

single law;

only onward.

no divergence

only what is.

& no more,

nor no less.

an abatement

purer portions

into

labyrinthine

positions.

parametric

celestial

systems

separate

wholeness.

all

fated

peace;

a fatal phase.

a final link

in chains

chains &

chains

of interactions

spread across

vast spans

of absence

in union

with webs of wells

of gravity

spaghetti

junction of

constant function

response to motion

collage of every

event, ever,

unfolded in all unfolding

journey of energy.

that parallels

change.

no bias.

no basis

for duration

no hope, nor

no spite

toward.

just a

mark borne

in all

as nuances

of destruction

or assimilation..

continuum

of chaos

..an unalienable constant

to existence

free

of sand and concepts

until hands

arrive to touch

to value..

to survive it

to do as it did ;

only onward.

constant voice

in backs

of heads

a view on entity,

soon made enemy

soon to

rest deeper in a

furthering subconscious

lost-in-conscious

beings

idle hands

idle minds

that label dangers

labels foreign

labels native

labels which way

for survival,

labels made with expectation

to see a labeled tomorrow

another day

to protect,

to move on,

to adapt to labels

learn which way is which,

which is home,

label location

labels that made us

pick up, look

look up & wonder

label self as meant to.

meant to find

meant to mine

meaning;

purpose

other than the first one

purpose; an ore

held highest by prospects

eyeing entities, unmanned.

in seas

& in skies

where clouds,

or arms of stars

appear to voyage

with purpose:

for equipoise, for all,

in all directions,

an enigma so far endless

start to finish.

w/ one known affinity...

only onward,

pursuit made visual

in hues

of unity,

in lieu of

phenomenon

held marvel

in microcosms

from sol to andromeda

to any edge of laniakea

from instinct

to intellect

to dialect

science

poetry;

curiosity,

emotions.

all made possible

by heavens’ persistence.

all effort put in resides in evidence of Now.

memory hive of totality..

..a single stream, thru all galaxies

a truth athanasios,

thru temporal veins

of reality

& all its secrets

fin

#dps #poetry #poem

3 notes · View notes

triumphorce · 6 years

Text

head to toes

a wave of vigor

washes mind to fingers

a flush of emotions

as life to digits, to scribe it

beginning to end.

from ideas to those alike;

a fire captured

in words

that

shines to lead the lost

or not,

all before

crimson freedom

exhausts to embers,

ennui

& ash flakes

that blow in wind, as husked dreams

seeming done

but soon land on cheeks, cooled & damp

under eyes in tears, under a despair felt as if fallen

from thunder harkened skies, that call to question cause for existence;

a significance in actions that grows smaller the more you think about it

but together, less equals normal,

as summation is fundamental

love is adhesive, either ours

bartered feelings submerged in seas calm to quench

where together forged are all;

pen, mind, word;

sword & board tactics

with a cryptic, cold stance on trust

auto-response subconsciously deplored in hippocampus;

of a life so far & a mirrored-side, created in enthalpy of pain

to reflect, or emit light & shine as to say, “haha, aight now...i won’t not fight”

& continue to darken what’s behind, deny rage the time of day

no more means to place attention upon a strength

as easily extinguishable as any weakness, as easily interchangeable

edward elric - a transmute of ashes to feathers of phoenix’s

that ascend on winds from within to

apollo heights.

here goes. hold on tight

focus.

okay.

right.

-deep sigh-

write.

‘cause as soon as it comes, may it leave

in clicks and twists..

ink deficits, existentialism

doubt, fear;

all a masquerade ball of

procrastination.

longest walks along barest walls of muse

a cloak of shame cast over pride & progress

prejudice in head that it’s all bullshit,

a law that all is worthless to time.

that don’ wait

a reign that won’ go away

and floods universe,

floods body like at start of verse

an awakening from nightmares

that no point in lifetime is worth anything ‘cause none are worth more than any other, or any other’s

perception opposite of a constant, so all must be equal;

never just the Work of Art, but a part of the part of populace

that looks for meaning

in a world where love and promise from others

ain’t always obvious,

or even there

but are made to be the pied piper, at least in my life.

to seek newfound purpose behind the dreaming is now reason behind passion,

and furthering past prior goals, prior holes fell in, presume to be precipice of permanent failure..

even when will appears absent

just the act of action

breaks you free

free from darkness, free from hurt

free from the world, free from him

free from her, free from being freed

from leaves, slaved to trees,

to the beauty in fallen freedom;

a dance to canzonetta sull'aria in walls of shawshank

melody of autumn breeze passing through horns of cornucopia

a created shell of gratitude, to covet peace

revert effect of gravity to dust,

as residue strewn in light spread

to spritely orbs that lifts soul..

some philosophy for you in metaphor form;

outside the box, right into ring

i take on abstract competition

& spiteful audience; my own thoughts;

hatred rooted deep,

tryna tunnel and suck from heart

deflate lungs, sink chest

debate what

is what

anymore

as proof

of existence

from

head

toes

we are made

to overcome

fin.

#dps #poem #poetry

4 notes · View notes

triumphorce · 6 years

Text

i see..

art;

hearts of humans;

sparks in muses,

that illuminate

darkest parts of world

getting harder to see.

i try to keep from viewin,

to keep on movin, across a timeline

i’m usually out of tune with

biorhythm a blues book

all the way to jazz roots

spasms right and left

spazzin right to left,

up,

down,

top, bottom, mid

gotta remember to stay positive..

say to self over & over again

as i try to stay on topic

don’t let ideas get the best of me..

to truth that dissolves attention,

at the same time drawing it

dissolves fears into slew of

melancholic morale, i sip from

to keep eyes open

so when I turn,

to see how far from origin,

of an emotion archaic, i’ve voyaged

that i’m content with only what is, i only neEed.. static momentum. wisdom realized in new light of events life had to offer,

prosperity propelled by

promise..

..to stop

wonderin why

and just put my fuckin’ shades on.

find a place to stare at nature..

tell problems to watch it, or else..

and we make amends.

watch world together

fall apart, & repair.

without having to touch a thing.

in a

sequence of

scenes in

sequins of sparks.

i see

benevolence

i see

faith

i see

hate

i see

misunderstanding..

eternal internal wars,

that eventually effects external

i see

every individual

struggles

with grip

cynicism

innocence

both eventually slain

both

potentially

could

taint...

..potential. either your savior, or not..

i often see neither..

i just see

confrontation

between

courageous

ostentatious

conflict..

between

how small we are

competition..

(reality vs. ego)

((please let go))

(((yes i’m talkin to you)))

i see

life, death

i see

a rock to stand on

and a hard place

sunlight in a garden

and sunlight

as shadows on walls of caves

in flashes...

I see

images of

liquid....

poured onto world..

;

by hands of earth, stern as

;

redolence of dirt

‘

;

steady

trickle

;

flashes

more flashes..

i see..

backwards..

knowledge,

swallowed by drains of

vane

a (reality) shaken. beaten,

pillaged, burned all because of (ego).

i see..

progress stolen,

plenty people

but no one stops it

because what’s in charge?

that’s riight, you got it

that’s right

let’s be

honest

nah, nvm

back to watchin

desecration of

recreations of time taken to

pay attention. to capture

denied beauty…

to show eyes, alive & unalive,

what may be missed

dismissed

or mistaken..

i see,

an oil carved cottage

spread of hues, blended by distance

like spread of food to eyes of stomach empty

an intriguing scheme

that subdues rush of blood

the calm of seeing home, no matter how far

feeling home no matter where you are..

streets walked down,

woods played in

paths cut through

to metaphorical wastelands full of beaten, tired paths..

i try & revive

almost give up

collapse to see seeds planted

my hands hadn’t sown

look up

& see in dust of breath, others emerge

tired and beaten..

same boat,

same lapse in hope;

the same grasp on what matters

to secure a future

never meant for mortal to see

to turn and see…

you..

as far as

the past until now allows.

i see..

what i want to be..

i see want

to want to be

i see an attempt

i see somethin i ain’t never seen

ideas i could never think of

i see things i overlooked..

in me

in works i considered complete

a change in perspective every step backward

but i see mirrors

i know the path’s clear.

i see you.

..the connect

a feel in chest

gut

head

rush of thoughts

that feels like home used to

still..

…i already feel better

the real heals

and real is

everywhere i see lines filled

torsion of energy, energies

visual synergy

a parade of apparitions

a flood of colors that sweeps

thru library in mind, i live in,

in head

another day in the life of

a pagemaster

where i translate language of life..

a communication thru ripples,

questions like pebbles tossed

what caused the disturbance, the rock

or the will to throw it

is will a form of energy?

a confirmation that choice effects the world around it?

thus affirmation that life matters because we make it

because we can..and not always ought to.

when to is the problem, and always will be, thus solves it

caged moments

a picture of a free bird,

wings dipped

in warmth of orange

taken atop a grave of dreams

just hidden.

held inside

poetic forage of secrecy

to avoid death

freedom from judgment

freedom from ignorance

that i’m free to

to define lines

to describe what I see

& i see

what inspires to express

as the last did, and the next will

i see ideas, ideas

ideals

a lineage of trust in truth & doubt

tradition of passion

to stand and separate from not good enough

not quiet enough,

not reliant enough to not be defiant,

to not be pious…

too in touch to not define what

catches eyes inside..

they see

a corpus of perspective & observation

subjectives felt as objective

sharp, soft, curved, weighted, broad, bold, fine, dark, lively, cold

images in portraits, sound, or prose

murals of what’s seen

i see..

this poem is long as fuck & i apologize..

just

tryna close the gap between me and what i believe matters

the gap being..

my desires

my memories

my experience

my essence..

my ideas, ideas, ideas

only a concise glimpse

whether i share, or not

both my decision,

no real difference

yours the same

and that much different

that much more attention to difference in detail

and just that much more shit going on in that many people's day

day to day attempts to seize the bangarang

that much more art

that much more i see

that much more i write

i create

you create

i create

same crest

all a process

internal entropy put into a sight to see

permeation of pearls past building barriers

put up around emotions meant to be made clear

emotions of the made to be estranged, the made to be unable to change shit because i respect taboos, social cues and different angles…

since different color construction paper..

to now

copying & pasting

moleskine lairs

late hours

just to admit insanity in cryptic memoirs

to lift tension from heart

i see art

i feel peace

i see how it started

i see milestones

i see what i see in me in all seen

a presence present in present & history,

saw me the other day

on public transit,

in line @ walmart,

and didn’t even say nothin

i see, i act

try to not react

distracted by stories i see

everywhere

i see

i see i see i see

too much,

feel too much

to not at least say somethin

fin.

#dps #poetry #poem

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