Complexity Poems

Some say less is really more, or is it more is really less. I believe both to be true. The future screams towards us faster every day. The pace and complexity of life quickens. Technology more pervasive. The human psyche

” If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.” —Carl Sagan It’s all in there, waiting, just waiting in the time before time, the universe, our universe, packed unimaginably tight, indistinguishably tight,

A man’s choice for imperfect specialty Devoid a woman’s continued quest for security Likewise the two waters in diversity. He believes compromise leads to serenity To the long-haired nothing but a fallacy Then why do the waters co-exist in harmony?

I, the most perfect syllable in the world. It encapsulates me and all that is mine And all that I perceive or have perceived, All that I encountered or experienced, the Totality of my existence and its meaning To me

Will the Twenty First Century be the end for Homo Sapiens? Can human minds and psyches stand up to the speed of change being metered out? Today, we make more decisions in a day than were made one hundred years

How I chose to live my life. I’m wired at birth, my personality in place. I’m sculpted as a youth my environment had its say. The combination of both molded me as artists molds clay. With all this in place

We live in a universe of subatomic particles, the building blocks of everything else. All we can see and touch is made up of the stuff. Even in the seemingly empty void of space science tells us virtual particles pop

I watch the world go by, From my position at its periphery, I ask each day, For a sign, a message, Something to turn the senseless into the meaningful. My thoughts turn inward, My being aches with the pain of

Where do they come from? The brain is complex, of that there’s no doubt. Neurons, synapses, dendrites and axions, all woven together to make up our brain Somehow, from this complex mess we emerge, our consciousness our mind, all this

What does it look like? What does it sound like? How does it read? Is there beauty in mathematics? Are physics formulations beautiful? Is artistic beauty in all its forms discovered or created? Did Newton invent his mathematics or did

And accompany me To a place where you always wanted to be The aches, the heart-breaks, the constant high and low Mechanical existence, your mind is stuck in flow Let’s drink the magic potion, and sleep in utmost rest Give

Dear God I humble myself unto thee on bended knees tonight by candlelight well some say you only stride with us for so long and I know I can be a better man than I am but please don’t forsake

She watches him, every move sucks in his atmosphere, she fakes petty unconcern listless, restless encircling the prey spinning her web.. He sees all, walks away still faking it, she retreats smudging the smug hibernating until the next one lands.

You said I was weak so I was afraid to lift myself up. You said I was ugly so I despised my reflection. You said no one loved me so I hated myself. You said I was only a dreamer

Entombed beneath the cold cold ground Lie remains of one who grisly drowned Flesh and bone and stench of bile Is this really his eternal domicile? Legend has it they come back To rule the night for they lack The

Life starts through her A blessing she confer A pain hard to infer a sweet ending to refer She stands strong When things go wrong With a smile and a song Filled with hope and faith along She’s is hard

High above timberline on the fringe of a pristine alpine meadow in the dawning of a new wilderness day. The rolling bugle of a superior bull elk, reflected on this master bugler’s breath in the cool crisp air. A lonesome

Hope is like a bright star It always shines from afar Hope is the endless streams It’s made of all our dreams Hope is the sunrises in one day It paths will always find a way Hope is the turning

Finding True Love Is Very Difficult. Most Relationships End Because Of Assault. Some People Enter Into Your Life And Give You The Wrong Impression. They Make You Feel Loved But Breaking Your Heart Is Their Intention. If Someone Broke Your

Do not stare at full moon. The distance between love and hate has narrowed. Not for the shrunk radiation, sun wants to hide behind the gift of sunflowers. The golden ring on the black finger, I love the death’s cry,

With eyes wide open I put my faith in you And show my thanks in all I do; Because I put my faith in you. With eyes wide opened To the love you give So that my life that I

It erupts and then sublimates in thirst of response from the faraway wholeness of truth. Will not be the same again this life in motion of reverse malignity. Lifting the passage from script to justify the suicidal chair of kingdom.

Life Full of pain and strife How cruel, to snatch away all the good things I had Until I was left with only the bad Why did you have to leave so soon? I miss the times when we used

Where death and exotica meet, life stands naked in midst of our sacred hymns, Shadow fighting is not actuality. An essay on truth fades. Someday I will pull down the curtain. At the end of the road, death waits, apologizing

You lived your life, now you’ve passed away Cremated with nothing left to decay Grief endlessly lingers more so some days, eternal peace for your soul I do pray. I have had to begin the process of change Our home

Night is cloaked beneath a shroud As moon does slip behind a cloud Camouflaged, his darkened face Patrols the perimeters of the base Laid low, like snake he slowly slivers As cold night air does make him shiver And yet

Those Soft tones trembling in dark, a feather soft bruise on my supple skin, your luscious lips searching salt amidst sweat, entangled in your arms: a calmer me, tamed lust, wet dreams, I yearn for your touch more and more,

Who am I, without the presence of my father? Who am I, without the support of my father? Who am I, without the mercy of my father? I am nothing, without the love of my father. All that I am,

One face, two lines, three soliloquies, four sets… The list goes on of what all I’ve done. And yet, you don’t know everything that I’ve made. Well, it’s able time to show you. Look around. Do you see what all

“Away from my fears is the day I dream, a place where eternal happiness awaits for me. Where no pains exist, no one could hurt me. I could breathe the way I want without losing my identity. A place so

They pinch and grab Dragging me down They keep trying Pulling me down Right to their level I strive to rise I strive to be the best Lift myself up And leave the rest Because I’m no crab I have

Who am I? Sometimes I wonder… I am a disciple…stumbling along an old, rocky path An angel?  No…just a woman… Straining just to touch the hem of His garment Longing to be closer, ever closer to Him I am a

The heritage. Storm of violence in our chromosomes: perverts the senses. Spooky fear of burnt houses, broken limbs, utterly committing as witness of silent unbuilding, as the future defies the stunt of withdrawl. Not for tomorrow, the mother weeps for

I tried hiding my tears behind the smile I had…expecting you to read my mind!!! Disappointed again!!  my heart never takes things light … it pains.. When it comes as possessiveness versus pervert guesses, the latter becomes my image now

When I Count My Blessings I count you twice ‘cuz it’s a miracle come true that you’re even a part of my life I have so much to be thankful for and I thank God every day and every night

I dread the weight machine That horrible, putrid little thing It tells me lies that shatter me Clasping my throat that I can’t breathe Every time I step onto its platform The spring beneath contorts in pain It bends its

Me, a singularity, vast, color fast, has a very good forecast and will flabbergast. Me, resilient at times brilliant and on the same token often broken. Me can be unforgiving, dangerously living but on the flip side, dignified, able to

As sure as eggs is eggs, My aching feet sing. But not out of love, joy Or any good thing. They’re fed up and tired Defeated by time. The joints have eroded Just listen to them grind. Like a rusty

Out of the cleft lip comes a muffled voice on the turn of events, to interrupt a call. Then the panic rises, the blood was oozing from the larynx. The winding mountain path goes to the end of blessing where

Drowning her children back in her womb, a big tear rolls down the cheek of earth. She was sitting on broken bones to watch the terror, ear for ear to listen, eye for eye to see. Hope was becoming ephemeral.