Short Indefinable Poems

Lip stained ugliness
On my detrimental brow
Transcends the insignificance
Of union unbound
By tides indefinable
Even her skeleton is beautiful...

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Exposed core
Glorious in all it's sensitivity
I sensed it before
Felt it alive with indefinable activity
Finally I see the mystery
Behind your locked chest door.......

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You can’t alter reality
with an opinion

You can’t alter reality
with a drug

To alter reality, 
you must force away time

Defining the indefinable
—leaving only what is

(Grantham New Hampshire: February, 2017)...

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(Nagpa in Tibet, 2017)

You and I

We’re not human 
you and I
said dreamer
to his dream.
We’re of Life
so indefinable
exactly as we seem.

(first published in my 3rd book of poems, Sun Made Flesh and Fiber, 2019)
...

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You can’t alter reality
  with an opinion

You can’t alter reality
 with a drug

To alter reality, you must force
  time upon itself

Defining the indefinable,
 —leaving only what is

(Grantham New Hampshire: February, 2017)...

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In looking back, do you have any regrets?
Would you choose a different path, a better love, a clearer dream?

Life as it flows
 is indefinable
lived happy, sad, complete.













Line Gauthier's Haibun contest
8/10/2020...

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how do I say I love you, 
and truly mean it?
How can I love you,
and really feel it?

Love is indefinable
Love is indescribable 
it leaves us undecided,
due to its undeniableness
We give it up undauntedly
our memories of love
continually haunting......

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Wannabees always seem to know
who the really tough guys are
Their carriage indefinable
 though marked by every scar

The pheromones of conquest
 carried by the chosen few
Who rumble through the tallest grass
—swallowing what they chew

(Dreamsleep: July, 2022)...

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Juxtaposition,
Of ever-changing moments:
In dynamic love.
·
Emotions invert,
Colliding interfaces:
Of lost pulsing time.
·
Progressive attempts,
Indefinable feelings:
Of the human bond.
·
Opposed through the mess,
And in the dynamic end:
We mesh together....

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How?
How can I explain the way
I love you 
It is like my love of God
My love for nature
My love poetry
My love for beauty
    And indefinable happiness
My endless search for perfection
Instead of ending up in verse
Has been pettily packaged in a woman
Who gave her love to me...

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We think we are free
But alas..as long as 
Separation and autonomy
Are sown into our 
Cloak of beliefs
We are borrowers
Accumulators
Of beliefs not our own..
Freedom eludes..
Freedom is felt when
It is found that these
Borrowings are also
Expressions of
Indefinable Freedom......

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mister inappropriate wore his tilted cap
in 4am gardens and warner brothers flats

misses indefinable held her mister choo shoes
he taught her some fassion,she played for him the blues

lady lately lawless,dead of all but style
died at half past farmer,had an heart attack on his style...

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Time an illusion,
to make sense of reality

Reality an illusion,
to order and place

Order an illusion,
to all that’s a given

What’s given Divine
—indefinable Grace

(Villanova Chapel: September, 2020)
‘A Tribute To Augustine’s 3 Tenses Of Time,
Present Past—Present Present—Present Future’...

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Calm that Confidence
Hit that switch
in an effort to scratch
that indefinable itch
Wind that soul
Hit the road
Ride toward the stretch
where the white wind blows
Clean that Conscience
Flood those tears
in an effort to erase
your younger years
Crave that love
Brave that heart
Brilliantly humble
is a good place to start....

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Only A Poet…
  can change feelings into air,
  birthing new memory

Only A Poet…
  can transform night into day,
  lighting our spirits

Only A Poet…
  can define the indefinable,
  words meaning more than their letters allow

And only a Poet…
   can stab time in the heart,
   to bleed free and eternal
    —only a Poet

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)...

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Only a Poet…
  can change feelings into air,
  begetting a new feeling

Only a Poet…
  can transform thoughts into verse,
  birthing a new thought

Only a Poet…
  can define the indefinable,
  words meaning more than their letters allow

And only a Poet can stab time in the heart,
  to bleed free and eternal,
   —only a Poet

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)...

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Divine instrument, is poetry
and only poetry with her magic vision,
who describes
the indescribable,
defines the indefinable,
exults the verisimilitude
of the simple, because
exceeds any limit
of the believable and the incredible
breaking the shackles
  of the mysteries..
Simplifying and demystifying
the obscurities by clarifying
any and all secrets
exposing emotional beauty
of poetry...!...

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Love is such a fragile sentiment
So oft confused with sex,
So in our daily double dealings
We render it is so indefinable
Like the faint flicker of a candlelight
That is blown out by our despair,
An intimate venue of self-torture.
We add to its impenetrable obscurity
Blowing the flame right out,
Thus our outrageous shadows 
Are silently snuffed out.
Until we accidentally meet again,
And Love blossoms again....

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you just can't understand
as you wonder what went wrong
shake your head in misery
you knew it all along

you saw it in a movie
you see it on the streets
hear it in the lyrics
your blood begins to heat

so good at indefinable
so good at concealing too
so good at using shadows
yet you wonder why you're blue

you're praying in the darkness
for redemption on your knees
begging for forgiveness
from this silent legacy...

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I am tired with the burden
But don't feel the power to leaving it
It ruins my soul
Yet I maintain the poison within me
I am a hypocrite or a scoundrel?
Or a prisoner of my own vices
Perhaps both, or something indefinable.

I grapple with this internal strife,
A weary soul caught in the fire of self loath,
Amidst the ruins of self, I persist,
A complex being, defined by contradictions.

I am jealous
Jealous of everyone's success
But also Ecstatic for their achievements!...

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Every writer's work
a soulful surgery

we draw from mysterious
substance, submerged man's core
in fluids indefinable – amniotic sea of source
buoyant, yet only mistily determinable, unknown
were it not for subtle leaking

sort of a chill, in search of its draft

a stutter, keeping its voice from 
apparent reason

how can I truly love 
my God! my Christ!
when trapped on a page
with a pen pressured down
mostly always printing in 
favor of 
self-serving 
human treason...

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