Poetry Dead Poets Society

[ClaveVesari]

one way I know



the other, I don't





same old same..





curiosity taking over


again...


always takes me over

the top






to get hurt,


to get what I want...

or both




but..



all I want, is to be inspired


to inspire; refire fired dreams..





escape from
pain
imminent to be infinite.


and pride
sure to respond in equivalence





until one is depleted..







a choice to make
on both sides

I try to side with neither
try to side with me



do i..
surrender,
take a break,
reconsider,
or
defend
irrational agenda..





one

the end of an illusion





the other
of a
cycle;

stifled ambition

to

multiplied,
superscripted drive
thru depression
thru ripples of Cause
that distort reflection
in relation to existence..

to trouble mind long enough

to reach a reservoir
stricken oil,
that
erupts past where pain interrupted
onto paper
richest ink rains, to give a most honest, innest description of skin and bones..
of pain, seemingly the limit,
and pity
limitless..





all I ask

all I ever ask
of me
is..
to never allow wisdom to still fulfillment
stop heart from taking chances..

and allow ignorance to sync with intuition

to know I know closer to nothing..
and to
devote all of time to all I
learned
learn
wrote
write


to know more about what I don't;
to adapt more than remember


instead of
feelings..
experiences yielded..
leading a soul timid
Overwhelmed and disheartened
of own accord, of course...


what to do..





pain pulls one way
ideals pull another





still, self hatred struggles to survive...
unable to consume all of a promise made every time I fell furthest



fin.

 

[ClaveVesari]

we yell. we scream.
but now, instead, in silence.
behind layers of closed doors,
alone still not normal,
im still not normal.
i yell. i scream. i wait.
but pain is cordial.
i get better for the sake of others.
i ask myself is this fate…just to shrug off the surreal..
& yet, somehow..
I still believe in love
& that it will save me.


either that
or i have depleted any other reason so far..
that…
all that’s left is no reason at all..just
a reflex. a habit. to open up self, despite the past.
fin

 

[ClaveVesari]

what is it they will talk about...
how will they see my problems.
how my brain was stuck on conundrums easily solved from third person..
What is it to write..
What is it to write poetry.
I do it for me.
About me.
to sell me.
to trade pride for pity.
lose self & forget how to get back.
think in radii to keep track, but lose ambition
to be so aware, and such an idiot at the same time.
to stare directly at what breaks me
& only describe it..but never its eyes.
I've glanced...
once.
I know they are mine.
but what will they think of me..
that..
i was too weak
so close, but blind
i was just dramatic, and really fine
that I never considered what I think of me..
that what I thought was purpose, was really vanity..

what will I think of me..
when I look back, after decades of blank pages..
what will I see..
words..
or worlds.

complete or incomplete mess

courage to speak, for me, because I felt trapped
or
fear to be silent, & that others would never hear me

out of hope i could change anyone but me

so many decisions made..
for so long, as life fades
like torch's glow through cave...

an adventure at the heart.
will to embark

to travel
and not know where, or do
know, or not know why

to do, or not do

to study, observe

to learn curves..
to change or master
to dream
wander every way
to escape from what's out or in

to release, let go of ambition..
to wonder for more
or ways to improve

are all life;

the need for,
&
protection of;

the momentum behind word and action.
overtime..

fin

 

[ClaveVesari]

anger rushes
from the top
thru an axis
thru center of world
made inside,
soon to be
ashes,
a drastic difference
in emotions
that consumes
and locks actions.

i try relaxin.

but can’t escape or get past it.

feel the hurt lurkin, like.. sheesh...okay,
please move away now, I get it, "i'm weak",

tell myself.. ignore what's behind
just a shadow
just the darkside..

that follows me...
following ....madness
and it converges via stress that overtakes courage,
turns it into anger, violent to defend what i fought with to begin with,
just fractions...
what's left of a passion ....that never got things done..& only masked me
a day to day action of just going thru the motion, habit of devotion
happiness a bowl filled with ignorance, in glimpse from my hindsight...
just as dreams, dreamed
soon became pastime...
biding time in piled distractions,
all the while, for miles, disaster plots,
surprises spread across a map
of life,
waitin to jack me
between ally walls that echos odes unknown to soul
words from an external source...

i can't pinpoint
never heard this.. wait,no, i have, but not like this...
i pray it not be more, no more worry, no more tossin, turning,
not from people I look up to, look to for help,
I adorn, held up in light I used to use
to move forward,
forevermore,
forever more words to describe the way knocks settle in gut that I ignore at door...
pensive gaze as i lay unafraid,
stone cold in chaotic pockets

enduring any kind of abuse soon becomes the last straw and i decide i don't deserve this, or whatever else i don't like for that matter, for the record, i've been lax, shown gratitude, changed my attitude to fit the likes of yous, all yous who had to prove to me my ideas weren't useful, all yous silent, too, who left me to all the words sent, used to burn skin, that soon became a massage by furnace side, heated by a fury's bide, collected resentment condensed in center, where smelts weapons engraved with mark of warrior
a self stronger than any before or any after as this, too, marks the day
i take the pain, as hilt in hand, reflect before i strike..

no more holdin' hurt in..
no more concern or respect in heart that concern people out to work against
to deter opinions with no scope to broader problems overlooked under ego's shelf
no more hiding behind tears that make it hard to see straight,
made me "girly"
hard to not to collapse in on self,
when lungs thin and feel as whirlwinds blow,
emotions hurlin’ amidst
tryna control every urge that lurks in and submerges people, when it's urgent to be earnest, seekin truth to procure a firmer understanding on why it matters to be happy, to seek tomorrow, to seek a meal, to seek therapy, to seek an escape from reality asked to reveal itself ...a throat hard as earth, sand that, over time overflowed, hard to swallow a future already planned in the middle of a future not planned, in the middle of traffic, in mid-thought..reevaluating life..
to be so certain, seem so pertinent, believe there's perfect
to see a point, to see it clearly but watch it sink and never resurface..but maybe
silence will speak through, and reverse adversities always spurring,
all day furthering to murder dreams...
but stay, ..wait.

i hear more echoes...
a prayer to self, said long ago,

that shirts plain, pristine, turned stained,
allow each strain of cloth
to serve as proof of use of our time used
to learn to love..to learn to
appreciate the most basic shit, that's not so basic shit when everything "amazing" turned out to be just a phase thing
that type'a shit that keep me writing more, more, more, ever so on & on & on
that gives me every reason ever needed to remain needless; a selfless sleuth, when time comes to relish truth

Fin.

 

[ClaveVesari]

you could follow his footsteps
glass trail along soft sand, down shores of lore
he feels of dawn, smells of mar, a being from depths of ideas, a purpose crisply led by sparks that birth breath, & sends forth word, a message that fiercely spreads, murdering all thoughts indifferent to goals set, & all who fled, left him, before he found the sunken place, a place to set feet firmly, defining self by works & dreams, by continuing, by finding self doing fine without depending on pretty lies to falsely elope with hollow desires, to waste hope for the cost of title, or to feel alright again, for like five minutes, just to give in, he gave into all who fled, no support from all next to heart, to whom he pledged his all to, to accomplish, conquer any problem life has in pocket, unless it was them, unless it hurts to think of them in any context, in a mind that never stops, ever ever-
forever endeavors till anguish perpetuates insomnia, til last breath, til life dissipates, whether dead or alive, as fading light through drapes..

a dusk filtered through curtains,
put up to keep out the rest of world

Fin.

 

[ClaveVesari]

head to toes, waves of vigor, a wash from mind to fingers, to bathe pages, flush emotions

life to digits, to scribe it. a matrix code, beginning to end, from ideas to those alike

a fire captured in words
that
shines to lead souls lost
or not,


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

or

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

elric - transmute ashes to feathers

ascend on winds from within to

apollo heights

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

to seek newfound purpose behind reasons, behind passion,
and furthering past prior goals..
prior holes fell in, presumed to be precipice
of a permanent failure

..to find
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..



that’s philosophy for you; outside the box

right into the ring to take on abstract competition

despite spite of audience, my own thoughts

hatred rooted deep,

tryna tunnel and suck from heart

deflate lungs, sink chest

debate what

is what

anymore

but as proof
of existence

from
head
to
toes

we are made
to overcome



fin.

 

[ClaveVesari]

i see..



art.








hearts of humans,












sparks in muses







that illuminate darkest parts

of world

getting harder to see.






the darker side of..everything


that i 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

spazzin right and left

right to left,

up,
down,
top,
bottom,


mid



just gotta stay positive..

i say over & again

to myself
oh, and tryda stay on topic


sometimes

letting ideas get the best of me.



truth that

dissolves attention & at the same time draws it

dissolves fears in a slew of melancholic morale

i sip from to keep eyes open



so when I turn to see how far I am from origin,

of an emotion archaic in light of events life had to offer,

that i’m content with static momentum.



propelled by promise to stop wonderin why

and just put shades on.

find a place to stare at nature..

tell problems to watch it, or else..



and we watch the world together



fall apart, repair

without having to do a thing






in sparks






i see



benevolence





i see



malevolence..




i see





misunderstanding..




eternal internal wars that affects external

cynicism & innocence

both slain by each.


potential tainted..


a savior

or dangerous


the difference between

~courageous
& ostentatious

~life, death



~a rock to stand on and a hard place


~sunlight and sunlight as shadows on walls of caves





in flashes





I see



images of

liquid poured onto world..

by hands earth born



stern as redolence of dirt







..more flashes





i see







knowledge swallowed by drains

beaten, pillaged, burned to ground








i see

progress stolen,

plenty people,

but no one stops it.





desecration of

re-creations of

time taken to pay attention

done as recreational

to capture denied beauty…




to show eyes, alive & not alive yet,

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 that use truth & doubt as 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.

 

[ClaveVesari]

untitled tidal force



on



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

of

purer portions

into

labyrinthine

positions.



parametric

celestial

systems



a

separate

wholeness.





all

fated

to

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



a

spaghetti

junction of

constant function

response to motion

collage of every

event, ever,

unfolded in all unfolding



a

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..

a

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



in

lost-in-conscious

beings

idle hands

to

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

purpose

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

to

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

 

[ClaveVesari]

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

 

[ClaveVesari]

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

another chance

that 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 will garnered

to become autonomy

towards a life the product of thoughts

where i was only ever Taught to follow

only Told to be a leader

well 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, focus on targets set

'cause everything’s a competition

and i gotta win,

gotta put pen to pedal,

every page

gotta prove something to me,

that i can prove to people

what i want,

when i want.

.. is what i want truly what i want ?

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 believed 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 stay to staying to
out of fear 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

 

[ClaveVesari]

in pursuit of happiness.


a path paired with apathy.


a shifting sentience, avid to look,
whether good or bad.

..vivid translations of times...


good ...& bad.


where i live in la la lands,
& by rhymes of seuss..


whether i should or not.



outbursts
in bursts of paint
of pain

gliding neural stria strokes
from worlds to eyes.

from heart to sleevies.
mind to armies,
hands, & fingers
to record life..

draw bridges, to cross, or raise.

blur limits.

stir in oceans of own blues
in slurs of own storms.


i color winds to carry beauty down a road devoid of such. a road that, the longer traveled, seems to displace a destination posed in blue, Burter poise, frozen, continuously cooling air, that becomes warmer, nonetheless, the darker self gets, the more self adapts.. ..a process slow, to relish reality, whether good or bad. into a cycle of slightest incline. long days. longer stares at sun, that darkens rest of world. longer stare at memories, making pain a little sharper. mistakes more permanent the more remembered, centered on perfection, but nothing’s in pencil, so nothing’s meant to be, nonetheless simple, so why erase? even if i could, i still would fuck it up. objective is to not let life leave me miserable, welcome it with the intent to fix what’s fixable, continue livin’ and remember who is, not once was. A story not once understood, a moral ripening. an aegis in eyes aged, to review

and find who i’ve been lookin’ for is in the person looking for

a person stuck in mood to do what he wants to do, when he didn’t quite know what he wanted, cause he didn’t quite know why he was who he was..

why my flaws are my flaws, if all my flaws are really flaws, where it all went wrong and if it even matters, blah blah blah blah, can’t I just move on? Of course. ... as long as I walk toward dawn. Only meant to be embraced, never touched. freedom from what life becomes..

& all comes from did. birthed from was, raised by is, to learn & live. learn to live. find a smile in the midst of misery knowing where I’m at is never an end, even if it seems like it, all I must show is courage to jumpstart rhythm of triumph, ego, self-written purpose, based off what I analyze.

target with or without pride set out to define a boy, desired to be man, lost because he set out to obtain image in mirage of mirror


Fin.

 

[ClaveVesari]

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



i

finally cry





i

finally bleed





i

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

row

attempting more

more

more

and more

to be like wah-ta


a bruce lee on loose leaf

acute aim toward problems

as keen as jeet kune

do

i just

do

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.-



i

make

my

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

i know

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

 

[ClaveVesari]

topic topic topic

pick one
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

but it's fine;

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 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.

unaware of world
building inside.

anticipating,
anticipating..

radiant ignorance, facing world with amazement, still do.
subconscious protection from what would eventually become mental infliction.

subliminal all around on how to, &to be content
vacuumed into mental, into
an obsessive intuition in the making,
focus in the 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 the 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 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 lost ability, life, way,& still can. so no more I can't. here writing, fighting, finding new ways to see, live, smile, breathe winds, run free, triumph, i am 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. aptitude for patience. 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.



just

shine.






breath the only remaining ingredient.



fin

 

[ClaveVesari]

i..
pick up pen,
& sometimes..
don’t write.

hours..
go by..

&

most the time
i end up in dark room, ..
sittin where i started
pickin up pieces
left to
keep from
getting lost,
long ago..

to not feel so alone.
but then pick up phone
and still dont pick up.
slide ignore,
no will to answer..


startin to feel
like there's no time to,
but then i feel 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, '09...'11


still stuck in computer screens,
hunter hunted, jazz jackrabbit, pod, & sim city
ROMs all fuckin summer, & reading lists
still stuck in goosebumps and redwall
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 and 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, to inclimate days of creation
when it was just me and my cousin, breakfast, story, story,breathe, break, lunch, story, story, shower, brush teeth, sleep, dream, wake up, story, story, story, repeat. then repeat, never surrender, ten toes a castle's keep
still on the run, though, 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,

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 ideas they require
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

 

[ClaveVesari]

Melodies pouring from her tuneless


Heart, on key with keener thoughts,


Dropping down despite her mood.


Disembarked from the Earthly World


In his own composed, built from loss


Feelings shielded, locked, he wields to hurt.


Stuck in between, reading lines she


Couldn't see, undefined, under


Minded, Thunder Cryin', blinding speed


Speed of light, leaving quietly


Lightning streaks spreading from his teeth


For eyes to meet, timely speech


And she slowly paints the scene


Together in her mind, master piecing,


Breathing air the skies bereaved, by he


Ensuing new life in her brain, new tides


Soothing times, influenced by delusions


Clouding her mind with beautiful lies,


Shrouds her, found her lying faithless


Gave her hope


Makin', placing visions easily mistaken


Through prevention, deceiving


Cruel proceedings, under laying, leaving


Details out, brailed demeaning


Til the point it's all she needs


All she craves, desper-ate for just


A taste, justice fades to nothing


Comes back as dreams, faint memories


In the moments flashes bring


Never meant to last, passing breeze


Cooling the humid heat, unsheathed


By he in the form of Zeus' means


To perceive his rage, his reigning grief


Untamed beast, no leash, colossal mane


Via others, mainly casted left, denied


To the side, estranged to kindness, unalive


Driven there since an age he could


Comprehend, get away, break free


Deny the truth that lamed he love


So now he rains, his fallen touch


Upon those who reflectin' what he was


Broken mirrors that deeply cut


Memories of a disappointing luck


Appointed judgment, void, corrupted


Forever embroidered to her.


She can't say she loved it, or trusted


But it felt better then lust did,


Never once did she cuss it, curse it


Because it never healed, nor worsened


Just laid in a bliss under him


No mercy, an eternity that he serviced.

 

[ClaveVesari]

12 years later,



nothing major




different.




pain and fear missing

that
i didn't



even know
was there.

but also..





missing very same memories
and people





that elicit flaws in self to feel those ways.

emotions



i swore would never fade,



seemed



like it'd be everyday,





but eventually..

i made new promises.






this time with just i.

only trust eyes







only got what i've
done,


so i'll stick with
where i planned to end up.


no matter how" impossible"


as a matter of preference
it better be.




and if not
i set off for more.



which is why


i



still



wake up script pages,
give a peek,
take a peek,


gettin' lonely being stubborn,
but i stay even stiller.




make mind an evener build,


weight lifted every release of words
to keep me balanced..

i meet myself

for a night out,

night owl

into

early bird

in flight thru vowels,

consonants,

constant talon grip on life,
that has only tightened
around circle tinier than pen-head,
the mightiest sphere thhat keeps me
on track,

in alignment with
vision in past

passion
i still believe in




a wave that has lasted.






a crave to

blank,
create.

blank,
depress myself.

blank,
confess i am to blame,

but also the reason if i change,

or not; change states of blank

to place for piece

of existence
i used to fear would be lost to time;

an anxiety caused, 'cause i thought time already spent
was authentic;

built a confidence dependent on connections with what i thought was missing in me, in other people,

nothing major different.

but turns out focus was ill-adjusted,
densely tuned on outside of a
(target <---that i'm beginning to doubt exists, too.

had to block out, blackout.
no social nothing. take more walks.

involve myself in own life. like get tf up,

what a shame- stop.

be on own side. <had to learn pride.
&not let anger disguise.
clock's a'ticking.
bpm creeping,

creeping,

stalking,

breaths short for no- yooo

just chill.

can only do & then it's done,
so be careful
and do 'til do is done. <had to learn to be humble.
not let ego psyche self out.

i get back to normal.
but it don't feel the same.
what could it be?
i can feel it,
i know there's just one thing,
one more thing i can- can't be. 'cause what is normal?
had to learn to accept all forms of thought,
all ideals,
know i know nothing and so i act- no.

do like so.

think for self, new muse everyday ----> 'cause what's the point to claim retained information, that can be as easily memorized, regurgitated just as easily as it can change, makes me have something to say.
false representation of something that barely hits surface of a comprehension constantly open to discovery.

density of destiny certain, tho.

---- all observers. ----

started that way,
will end so.

we just ridin' wave.

but 4 me, it's 4 a.m., 28 years later.

feels like weeks. scary.

nothing major different.

still plenty ways to change shit, still plenty hatin, fakes.
still plenty i missed then, that i try not to now.
plenty right in front.
a lot of makin' up to do and i do that everyday i wake up to do this.



even if you don't see it.


i see it,

&know u'll see it if you ever see me

fin.

 

[ClaveVesari]

why only patterns?
only focusif it matches.
compare compare compare.

why is coincidence exaggerated.
fate, fate, fate, i hate the word.
& i hate the show.
karma, too..
been hated, been a hater.
flesh, inanimate, or metaphys',
only fuck with my shit.
metafish, swim thru saltiest.

with one question on mind..

why is acclimating so restrictive?
two sides.
one. judgmental mfs.
(whom anxiety
troubles, like all others, but is smothered, & not
confronted, which happens because
looking at what's to be done to become
what we want can overwhelm some) & just who the fuck are you that I ain't?, and who am i to question you, or me questioning you? nobody. the correct answer is nobody to think we are what we're not, which is telling someone who they are and use that to hold them down, rub in faces, give no solution, offer no assistance, which is truly just walking tf away..
go judge self a little tougher..
&come back when you can't take you.
when you know you hate you.
&
two.
to people addicted to tradition, remember im talking on acclimation, progression, next step shit, which repetition limits in the end, because new isnt rid of old,but addition to, the same,fucking thing, but ego wants to protect form, physical, material, something people can see, admire, touch. not to feel vulnerability, even though we're all prone to failure, we all got right to be here, we're all made to be alive, then die, that sucks, just let people be, enjoy now to let go when end comes, quit setbacks, not our world no more

sacrificing growth because...

cosmetics.


trade a chance to change
for a celebration of change
that we need more now than then.

why’s conscience a memorized role?
deliberation an after thought..
our ability to make a
..choice mistaken as role of judge
& juror.

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,

aww shit,

sounds perfect.

aww shit,

gotta put work in

'cause

I made a promise
most of y'all dont know about

i 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 the 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, go out, worry naught, apply you and keep eyes where hands meet desires


never turn

fire off..

v
v
v

what now?






whats
next?

^
^
^

the only questions 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

 

[ClaveVesari]

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 cartoon fridays, so many one saturday morning’s, plenty corn flakes, cinnamon toast, fruity pebbles, card games at books-a-mill'

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- dissapointment, 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 us.
only,
who’s responsible?
how is who's affected by?
how they doin now, all I know is how
im doin, all I have to compare, all I have to
end all, replenish all, skin condition to get goose
bumps, hot pursuit, tingle in finger, drawin maps in sky
tryna gain overhead advantage to make choices, program ambition
...but
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

trolls under bridges of nerves
to which billy goat gruff temper charges
like crono 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, 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 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, awake aware always,
even when mind is a crinkled, crumbled candy wrapper
still just construct wrinkles in time via
hairs stand, ovation, encores.

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, or the following. fin

ride own
supplied energy
through lines
to
hidden gracelands.

 

[ClaveVesari]

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

to
break away path’s progression like a single droplet
down mountain-side
tear eyed, dreary to accept I’m not where i said id be by
this time,
or near any adjustments after
,where'd i lose track? weird, I just had in hands..
must've
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

 

[ClaveVesari]

from 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,
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, gordo-gourd-keto-kettle, 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

 

[ClaveVesari]

devoid devoid

no contact.

avoid avoid

make it natural.

make sure it's natural;

your motive, your action.

control control

keep, protect, contest.

contrast contrast

run

faster

faster.

catch up to free

past pain, mistakes

thru anxiety, congestion

to clearing..

breathe clearly..

..see it, too.

recover, recover.

dream keen, let fears sync

in neural depths,

jeering, jerking

lost in diffusion,

a light-clean feeling.

the slightest certainty

to stop confusion,

to start, start again, finish..

to love again, trust again.

to
want,
again.

believe, believe
it leads to tomorrow,
leads past trauma, eventually,
to new ideas, more & more
projects, more prospects,
more visions,
more room to being boxed in..

more room

for

potential, potential
a thoughtful seed..
reflective of gardener.

no truth, no final
no proof, no one's right.
none.

we all have what we all have,
ourselves, and each other,
no worse, no better,
up to us. together, and separate.

fin.

 

[ClaveVesari]

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

in

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

like

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;

to

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,

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

more than likely still do
always have, in back of mind
im really fine

staring at sky blue.
so blue..

eyes find it soothes

waiting on.

bus late.

contemplating,
mind raging

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


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

in

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.
& now elaborates time taken for decisions to cross neural pathways,
not get lost, and make it back safe
save me,
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