Perceptual Present.

speedpaint__19_by_sylar113_d7dsjzv-fullview.jpg

I liken my existence, to the velocity of a raindrop

Small when appraised by the untrained eye

But part of a bigger whole if witnessed in actuality;

Look close enough and you will notice

That on the way down I am entirely reflective

Of everything around me; a mobile, shapeless mirror

That shows you what you choose to see. 

 

Ever-so-subtly I place my two cents in the space

That manages your perceptual present,

Before I lose your attention I segue and tell you to

Scrutinize the metaphor in the prior verse however you choose;

Meaning and sounds are governed by the relative;

I just hope, that when you read those, and or these lines,

You return now, or in due time, to understand

The entirety of the unseen weight carried by this line;

Yes, let no one say I do not put my all into this

Like a fine wine; each piece ferments itself over time,

All born from the far-flung vineyard that is my mind.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: Sylar113

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(( Sound ))

speedpaint__25_by_sylar113_d7jqlxh-fullview.jpg

Life is what I make it.

At times, feeling like an endless litmus test,

The universe intent, on testing my resolve through

Non-consensual circumstances, all surfacing

At the most inconvenient moments.

“The universe can do what it wants”, said Certainty,

When it comes to that,

You will hear no arguments from me.

 

When I think about it, its probably for the best, after all

I used a mortarboard I earned on the plane that exists before this

To hold my place here, prior to certifying my current existence;

Ahead of my class, yet my Maker thought my potential had yet to reach its peak

Proceeded to grace me with a gift and a curse for words.

 

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, I am, however,

Everyone can do many things, but not the same as I do with words

Put the big bad wolf to the side when I speak

All within the same breath,

I send thatch, sticks and bricks to the world’s edge.

 

After that,  I reset my parameters and think of nothing,

Then think nothing of what you are thinking, about me,

Proceed to write about the entirety of that experience

With a synthesis that makes you conscious

Of the wavelength attuned to the sound of ink.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: Sylar113

 

Am I arrogant? Probably.

Do I know where my gifts come from? Certainly.

 

 

A Method To The Madness.

IMG-0247

Writing naturally inclusive of a skill

That subdivides elements that lay foundation

To the bulk of our understanding.

 

With poetry as a lover, I will narrow knowledge

Until it has a one-dimensional shape for a design

You would have to squint your eyes to bear notice

To how I will place present cognition on stasis.

Leaving it ready and waiting

For that inevitable recurrence, in which,

Like a pastor to the relative doctrine,

I will be drawn to read it again.

 

And at this moment, poetry and I,

Will not hesitate in publicly displaying our affection

Just for sport, we will flip a pyramid upside-down

All in a bid to give my thoughts a clear-cut avenue

To rain, in the form of sand grains, cascading, getting funnelled down

Till they are compact and unquestionably condensed;

All within the confines of both parts that make up

The ends of your favourite hourglass;

Afterwards, spin it however you like,

It matters not, nothing moves,

When I – at this moment- render time

Defunct.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

So this is the poem I mentioned yesterday, finally here 🙂

 

Thinking of probably making it into a short series, we’ll see.

Rambling #2

unnamed
By me

*A Method To The Madness*

That’s the title I gave the poem I was supposed to post today, reasons as to why I didn’t end up doing so are outlined in the recording. Also, just a small update.

I used one of my headsets to record the audio and the volume may be a bit low for others; I recommend using earphones 🙂 . Next time I’ll try and use my phone’s mic instead.

4 minutes 

Depending on the mood I might just write something right now.

 

– O.D. ©2018

Leeching.

6401cc6fe3735933bd19dc88caa06aa7

Perhaps when you choose to copy and paste,

Intent, on overwriting your identity by stealing my own,

You assume, the one you choose, is the only one there is;

All of a sudden taken by surprise when I step into high gear

Leaving you with the remnants of a personality whose use

Became obsolete beyond the relative circumstance.

 

Don’t you worry, there’s a reason they call me a philanthropist

Feed your endless thirst to be something you are not

I will hand you a catalogue that showcases my many sides

Take your time selecting what you believe to be the best parts of me;

Once you are satisfied with your choice,

I will unveil yet another brochure.

 

Plenty of pre-orders outlining a rough estimate of my future choices

Enough to sate your fiendish appetite

Please, do not feel overwhelmed, this is just the start

I believe if you do something, you put your all into it,

And if all you do is copy me, among others,

I would rather you be the best at it.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: RedBubble

 

Nothing gets to me more than feeling like my individuality is at risk. I am not of the notion that “imitation is the best form of flattery”. Personally, I find it really annoying. Please let me know your thoughts on the matter. Am I the only one who feels this way?

Painted View (Collaboration)

1.jpg

Another collaboration with my ultra-talented friend Kim from the blog Peace, Love and Patchouli

Took us a while to finish this one but it was worth it. I’ve collaborated with her on multiple poems now (this is the third) 

If you are interested in seeing our previous collaborations here they are:

All Together Now.

Higher Love

Visit her blog and bear witness to how she brings light into the world through her amazing writing 🙂

 

***********

 

The world, our canvas 

Is as clear as it could ever be

Impromptu strokes, beyond stoked 

For the surprise, I am yet to see.

 

Follow the scene of my soul,

lighter moments of colour

Paint the scene of my mind

Keeping pace with the road ahead

As steps move us forward,

In places where anything goes.

 

Lo and behold

Paintbrush bristles, kiss the poetic palate

Imprinting our souls and what they see;

A persistent light in the unrelenting darkness

Painting pictures with words that appraise 

What the rest of the world 

Would not hesitate taking for granted.

 

I follow my bliss with a like-minded soul

Travelling into the paradise of beauty

And I know you will follow me to the end of days,

In this moment we shall walk together

Basking in the creation we become

Upon this canvas of a place called life

Treading lightly into the miracle of now.

 

 Peace, Love and Patchouli & O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: CaringWong

Snare.

the_trap_by_ryky-d9xghfc.png

How often I read my old poetry,

Would leave you beyond surprised

As each piece plays the part of a snare

Preying on threads of fate

That happen to stray my way

Capturing a moment in Time

Building a statue through Immortalized context

All in the realm of the immaterial

Much to the delight and or melancholy

Of my present self.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: ryky

 

Afro·disiac

99edac1d83a1a8294dbad21ce580c733

I struck fear in their hearts

My skin might as well have been

The reflection of the colour you see

When looking down the barrel of a gun.

 

And perhaps it is …

Chuckling, I soaked it all in

A pleasant change of pace to be honest;

Simply having people afraid

And not believing you to be less than human.

 

Twisted yet gratifying perceptions of my mind aside,

Choose to keep or relieve yourself

Of the fear you have of me,

And let me show you the many talents

That hide within my form.

 

The darkness of my vessel is entirely reflective

Of the endless depth encapsulated by the vastness

Of the extra-terrestrial landscape;

Overwhelming yet enticing,

My skin is an Elseworld temptation

Which I urge you to touch at your own risk,

For it might just suck you in.

 

Full disclaimer:

After that happens

It will not be my responsibility

To bring you back to “reality”.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: RonAckins

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roots.

the_perfect_forest_by_ryky-d9l5o8r.jpg

In a field of thoughts

Planted during the time lapse

I use a sickle to pile the yield.

 

Patience from my most avid readers

I appreciate,

For they know, 

The time It takes to nurture

My most vivid dream sequences.

 

A tree with the strongest roots,

I never forget where I came from

Positive phototropism, reaching for the stars

Yet I remain grounded, too much ego

Leaves one unaware of the changing seasons.

 

Moving on parallel lanes

Appreciative of the rare instances

In which we align

For it is in those moments

We draw closer and understand each other

That much better.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: ryky

 

 

 

Dark.

emotions_by_ryky-d9ywyy8.png

Distracted or bewitched?

Seems the only time the rest of the world matters

Is when I see it through her eyes.

 

– O.D. ©2018

 

Art by: ryky