Deepest Depths Loved Me Down A Sinkable Oblivion

Deepest Depths Loved Me Down
A Sinkable Oblivion


I want to write in venomous adjectives and verbs that once injected would solidify my soon to be eloquent illustration of what exists in the depths of my mind-in regards to the concepts of love I hold hostage in my heart. Truths, that hurt me terribly and leave me wondering why loving me is so hard for someone else and why it is so hard for me? If only I could find the letters that would burst forth from their paper confinement and assemble at attention the words that would allow me to strategically conspire with my emotions. Words that would aid me in letting it all out, letting it all go... God help me please, I need the release, I need to let go, I need to let it all out-I have reached my brink and I am about to overflow.

If only I could find the right color palette that would allow my mind to translate onto canvas what images I see in my head. These images are terrible…terribly beautiful and wonderfully amazing, all too wrong, but oh so right, but yet I want to let them go too… I need to let them go because I am afraid of drowning in the beautiful depths of desire, but instead I swallow the razorblade of silence and bind my thoughts to my soul. All the while I pretend my paintbrush slithers through rich vermillion capillaries, a color I would surely use to ignite the fuse for the final countdown that precedes my demise. Tick-tock, Tick-tock, Tick-tock…second by second the anticipation over throws the inhibition leaving me alone lost in the rising depths.

I can taste the empty love across my lips and it leaves me parched as I watch the embers of another lost love burn complete while the desperation starts dragging me down into the smoldering remains of what I use to be. Disposing of my imagination and leaving me to remember my fevered dreams. The somber veil of a loveless truth covers my eyes. Am I sinking deeper or is just that the water is rising and I am anchored upon short chain to the seafloor? I don’t know, but it is beautiful still...I’m scared but I am welcoming my oblivion.

I am left tickled by my own fantasies and I want to know what real love is and why it eludes me so? What magic words would I have to chant repeatedly to bind love to me? Which words should fall like a river from my praying lips loud enough to deafen all of my sins like the sound of ten million Hail Mary’s spoken potently off the silken tongues of angles? What do I need to do and who do I need to be to know what love is? Who I am now has only shown me what love isn’t and I am scared that I will never know what it truly is.

Pandemonium is the only friend I have and the few relationships I have been in are like ski slopes only I never quite reach the top and I find the bottom awfully quick and usually flat on my face. I have thought I was in love only to discover it wasn’t love and I am left wondering if I am somehow suffering some inflicted prophecy designed to cause an epidemic between my torrid heart and inquisitive soul…forevermore.

Concepts of love have me lynched by the spider webs of my own fevered dreams. Dreams strewn beneath my feet shattered in a million directions. I only wish to be able to piece them back together but alas, I must admit I am terribly impatient and the silken noose only grows tighter when I try. My reflection in the mirror next to me is terrifying – I see myself choking with the solicitation of my own velvet coated yearnings. Yearnings and desires that slothfully fill my lungs binding my ingénue heart to stories that already had their happy endings. I thought it was love that was supposed to hang gracefully, catching light like stain glass and showering stains of pleasing emotions upon all who receive it, but instead all I see is the taut silken noose around only my neck.

That desire to know love and be loved is like a perfect drug and it arrives effortlessly in all the hearts of those who yearn for it…always on time as predicted. This desire has a way of infiltrating our consciousness leaving our senses satisfied by the intoxication, making us addicts from the beginning. I was told that true love moves in a graceful motion like the ocean and even the stormy waters are always survived because of the truth that exists in real love, but I haven’t felt that effect yet. I have felt the lie of lust that enchants our perceptions that tethers us to void physical satisfaction in a masquerade of hallucinations. I don’t want the illusion or the hallucination anymore I want the real thing. What does the gaze of love look like and would love’s eyes illustrate my reflection? I can’t help but be infatuated by capturing its expression and imprinting it on the back of my eyelids.

It has been said that love’s lips are defined by a labyrinth of soft cracks like veins on petals of crimson roses-provocative and kissable-yet wholesome and so full of bright truth it seems as though the light could blind you. Love is suppose to exist as a real truth but through our materialistic virtue and constant need for instant gratification, it stands instead, like a surreal statue on viewing in the Louvre, for all to look at but never touch, never be within reach. Becoming a fantasy of our deepest longing- a figment we can only crave to be real...and I am still left to hoping while sinking to oblivion in the uncharted depths of an unknown sea that there is still the slightest possibility of true love finding me…
©L.Warren 2010

Square peg…round hole

square peg…round hole
I don’t fit
bend the piece
make it fit…for awhile
bend the piece

until it breaks

damn…it broke

I am broken

Emotions torment
tears fall

bewail the silence

my thoughts

scattered across pages

acquiring a measure

of immortality

remembered…like ink floating

forever on an atonal manuscript

emotion is

a picture worth

a thousand words

emotion is
a word worth

a thousand pictures

Which has more value?

azure is a pretty word

it colors emotions so well

I am writing pictures

and painting words

but…
I don’t want

my ink to fade

or my paint to crack

I don’t want

my words…my pictures

to grow dim

obscured by time

I want to fit in

square peg…round hole

I fear I will never fit in

In a blink…I see
myself grappling with the hem of time

as it hurries by-stops to wait…for none

How do you capture still moments

that move so quickly?

life is time

life is beautiful…living beautiful time

not to be captured-only to be lived

I wish to fit in…into a beautiful life

enshrouded by beautiful time
© 2010 L.Warren

Nameless Oeuvre

I want to write you a missive
but mere mondegreens
would paralyze the paper

paper laced with words;
words meant to be mellifluous
But I cannot write

I have lost my words
Wait! no I misspoke;
the words are not lost


The words are not flowing
or rhyming just stuck
on the tip of my tongue

Out of my reach but there
tormenting me;

those words

Words desiring to be
adroitly conflated
with raw emotion

Words longing to be
SET FREE
to be UNDERSTOOD

But alas I am misunderstood
a peccadillo hiding beneath
flesh of a ridiculous ingenue

If I did know you
I would tell you
I love petrichor

and anything
remotely pelagic
that's why I love horses

I would tell you a secret
I love big words; ones I can write
but cannot pronounce


but even more than those
I love poetic words
and beautiful pictures



I could be your moiety
drifting upon
a foudroyant offing



The piece searching
for a piece-whole heart
the complete puzzle


just out of reach
like my words
I am desperate

to capture; be captured

I would ask you
if you can swim
Yes?! Then swim to me

Adumbrate please
the thoughts on your mind
I would be in love to know

I want the serendipity
in synchronicity
to find me

happenstance
finding what it is
you are not looking for

I want you to
FIND ME because
I am too scared to look for you

serendipity within the sempiternal
close your eyes
can you see?

This is not a poem
or a Nameless Oeuvre
it has a name only you can give it

Métis

To the New World from over the sea
upon the Mayflower came the Pilgrim in me

An English beginning followed by French, Irish, Welsh, German and Swedish
American Indian blood binding with this

European born ancestral lines of time
a blood that flows through me but does not define
ME
who I am, who I am meant to be

HUMAN

From Michael’s Island
comes the Ojibwe in me-the Aishinaabag
in my grandmother through my mother’s side
blood carried with pride

from mother too comes
Pennacook Abenaki
through my grandfather an adoptee

By way of Minnesota a long time ago
through my father’s line does flow
blood belonging to the Nehiyaw- The Cree
it flows, all of this blood, through me

American Indian born ancestral lines of time
a blood that flows through me but does not define
ME
who I am, who I am meant to be

HUMAN

Between two worlds I stand
with two views of this New World-this beautiful land
How do you choose the side on which you stand?

We are HUMAN together
Creating this inclement weather
People of Red
People of Yellow
People of Black
People of White
People that fight

I have turquoise eyes and white skin
I Identify with the white world- the white kin
but mixed blood, this Métis, is a conflict within

I understand where I come from
because it is what I am- what I have become
yet it does not define me
who I am, who I am meant to be

HUMAN

There is no crime
in being a human in this world in this time
We can be human together
and survive this inclement weather

I stand with a knowledge and perspective
of both sides and beyond
it is up to me how I choose to respond
to a world full of hate
We are human-a form of bipedal primate
with a higher intelligence that tells us NOT TO HATE

We have the same face
We are one race

HUMAN


We all stand with a knowledge and perspective
of all sides and beyond
it is up to us how we choose to respond

Relative of White
Relative of Black
Relative of Yellow
Relative of Red
Relatives of each other

Colors of our skin maybe different

but the color of our blood is the same
our life force our inner flame
burns always Red
and I now understand the word Métis can be shed

There is no such thing as mixed blood in a HUMAN soul
we are a humanity we all comprise the WHOLE
©2009 L. Warren

Quick History Lesson regarding this poem: Generally in academic circles, the term Métis can be used to refer to any combination of persons of mixed Native American and European heritage, although historical definitions for Métis remain. Canada's Indian and Northern Affairs broadly define Métis as those persons of mixed First Nation and European ancestry. The Métis (from French Métis - any person of mixed ancestry) are people of mixed ancestry, such as Nehiyaw (or Anishinaabe) and French, English, or Scottish heritage. According to Indian and Northern Affairs Canada, the Métis were historically the children of French fur traders and Nehiyaw women or, from unions of English or Scottish traders and northern Dene women (Anglo- Métis).

Triangles of Frau Lou

Oh, Louise Andreas-Salome did you put the trios in ménage trios?
Of you, of your mind, I am so in awe.
You the intellectual whore so misunderstood.
Oh Frau Lou to be like you, I wish I could!

What becomes of the female mind
when intelligence is to become so entwined?
A dangerous woman does it make?
Even Freud feared to be caught in your wake.

Oh, Frau Lou a lover of many men of great mind,
holder of a youthful beauty so pure it could blind.
The triangles of Frau Lou could once dangerously bind,
many a men of great mind.

Hendrik Gillot, Paul Ree, Friedrich Nietzsche, Frederick Carl Andreas,
George Ledebour, Frank Wedekind, Arthur Schnitzler,
Rainer Maria Rilke, Paul Bjerre, Vietor Tausk,
Adler, Carl Jung, Arnold Zweig,
Friedrich Pineless, Sigmund Freud and so many more,
fell under the charm of you, the intellectual whore.
Some loved you, some lusted after you.

Some did neither of both, but all respected you.

You, a keen observer of human nature with an indifference to moral convention,
with a burning desire for intellectual ascension.
You, whose sexuality and intellectual pursuits struggled in suspension.
Oh, Frau Lou your prose, your writings continue to hold my attention.

Louise Andreas-Salome, you found a brother hidden in every man,
only because you wished to live like a man.
A modern day tomboy of your time the women sought to ban.
You, a mastermind of female intelligence with a brilliant plan.

Frau Lou with your Pythagorean friendships and your insatiable intellectual curiosity
challenged the gender roles of your day with such ferocity.
You were Friedrich Nietzsche’s twin-flame and most painful atrocity.
You played a role in turning his mind into a mental monstrosity.

Oh, Frau Lou a lover of many men of great mind,
holder of a youthful beauty so pure it could blind.
The triangles of Frau Lou could once dangerously bind,
many a men of great mind.

A Hedda Gabler in living skin,

the two of you so much a kin.
The similarities seen even by Ibsen,
when he made his famous female protagonist your near twin.

Louise Andreas-Salome did you every psychoanalyze yourself?
Where you happy with yourself?
Did you ever find pride and contentment with yourself?
I have found the one great thing missing in your many works was yourself.

You once said, “Two are at one only when they remain two.”
Did you truly believe this to be true?
Your marriage unconsummated was not so unlike your brilliant works so devoid of you.
The distance between you and all you loved was a truth that was long over due.

I couldn’t help but take notice of your unspoken hurt.
You had empathy for others you would not subvert.
Yet you had an inability to recognize your own hurt,
your own loneliness, your own pain, to yourself you were inert.

Pain is a pleasurable part of life,
a necessary liberating strife.
You knew this well because you studied it with your very own life,

you lived your life with this strife.

Did you ever truly love at all?
Your detailed writings on sex and sexuality could enthrall,
but sex is just sex without love after all.
Were you never so lucky to ever have known true love at all?
(the green is the part I am still working)

Yes, but of course, you were your Romeo Rainer’s moonlight,
and the two of you made up for everything there wasn’t time for in one night.
Fourteen years your junior, oh, Frau Lou how reality does bite.
Your passionate love for him, though not meant to last, did burn bright.

Miss Louise Andreas- Salome, Miss Frau Lou
Truth tells me the triangles bound only you,
within time, within your mind, and your soul, you were bound by you,
within the triangles belonging to Frau Lou.
©2009 L.Warren

Political Rant Derived From the Contagiously False Ideals of Human Lemmings

*I am really depressed as of lately (Holiday Depression I suppose) and I am fed up with people so excuse my rather misanthropic and antigovernment inclined invective. What does it really matter anyways? I am just one small minute person in the sands of time, a mere fragment of silica in the grand scheme of things. No, I suppose in your mind my writing here is just a grotesque floccinaucinihilipilification! And Yes, I only chose to use this word to deliberately upset those of you who suffer from acute hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobi!

I remember a time in history when writing was a form of magic that was once readily accepted and developed as a method for affecting reality…alas the true writers and gifted poets are dead and the rest of us who try to be can’t measure up because no one dares to read the words or hear the ones spoken by such “misfits” who don’t conform to society’s creed!*

Blind following the blind like always-lemmings they are. Those who believe Obama to be some saint are no different than those who believe Bush to be a religious righteous man worth voting for. This is my vehement rant on the political agenda of our “WESTERN” society. A society that runs on the gears of an industrious materialistic world that has little care for the human experience and holds little value and regard for life, whether that life be human or otherwise. We are a collection of crooked people with crooked values, with crooked morals, and crooked views who dance ever so crookedly to the beautifully disenchanted crooked tunes of Government infrastructures. A tortured humanity.

Governments with agenda’s cleverly disguised as genuine Robin Hood ideals meant to help all and save all. Those Government monsters who speak with such beautiful words, so enticing they are, so easily persuasive they are for the minds of people who are “adjusted”(err indoctrinated) to follow and never lead or think for themselves. We live in societies where people are not a priority and this is the truth, even if you wish not to believe it. Next time you go to the mall think about that when you go to make your next purchase of select designer items… do you really need all that? Our world runs on materialistic greed! There is a child down in the alley outside without a winter coat and holes in his shoes…right here in OUR country-and on millions of street corners across the world!

Every last one of them…those people…Beau Monde wannabes, more concerned with keeping up with the Jones. How many young ladies do you see walking around with $300 Ugg Boots and Northface Jackets with their Coach purses and Gucci sun glasses? How many young men do you see walking around with the latest Apple I-phones or purchasing their expensive game systems, computers, and cars? All the while many of them barely making the minimum payment on their credit cards. Absolute disregard for personal responsibility, but why should they care, the Government is going to “fix” it right? The Government promises so much…and we feed right into this…hook-line-and-sinker…silly little fish.

We have become nothing but a bunch of spoiled children wanting someone else (Government) to take care of us. This isn’t the definition of socialism as I once knew it! What of the smug people with small salaries buying the most expensive houses they could on a zero down inflatable mortgages with absolute disregard to the bubble effect this would cause? Did they honestly think they would be able to afford those houses once the monthly payment increased? No, they didn’t care, because the Government would be there ready and waiting. Yeah that’s right, cleanup up on aisle 10!

Come on, didn’t you know, it is cool to be the one who has everything? That is our goal in life, to have “things”. Materialistic virtue is what we all live for, yeah, we will consider helping others, only after we have acquired all it is we want! Even the First Lady knows this with all twenty-six of her “servants”! The annual cost to taxpayers for such unprecedented attention is approximately $1,750,000 without taking into account the expense of the lavish benefit packages afforded to every attendant.

Little did American voters realize the call for “change” would result in the establishment of an Obama oligarchy. (http://www.canadafreepress.com/index.php/article/13827) Are the Obamas really any different than any other presidential family? Politicians are and always will be completely interchangeable…one and the same…1+1=1 in the world of politics. Let us not forget the plethora of brainwashed “dummies” marching forth from top accredited universities around the world, forming their “opinions”, their “conclusions” and their “ideals” on indoctrinated thought passed on through curriculums within the public fool (I meant school-really I did) systems!

Also the next time you feel the need to help others by donating, can you not be like the majority who asks for a tax return? Heaven forbid you do something gracious and not expect a “favor” in return. What message does that send? Do something good for others as long as you get something out of it and see benefit from helping someone in need? The benefit should merely be the fact that you felt good about doing something great for someone in a desperate situation! I work with a handful of kids each day who live lives in a horrible reality that very few of us could ever imagine. This is wrong, and those very “Governments” that promise so much do very little in the GRAND SCHEME of things!

We have all collectively lost our awareness of our own essence and have otherwise allowed ourselves to become a pawn in someone else’s version of the game called life. Manipulating and managing the reality from behind the scenes is an age-old practice perfected by political and religious institutes over the grand expanse of human existence. People as a whole collective are the only ones who can make things happen who can make change. They don’t need to rely on Government or Religious infrastructures to initiate change. They can do this for themselves if they are willing to work on the same page…if they are willing to do something on their own, willing to go against the “normal” way of doing things. Willing to think for themselves and do for themselves for a change!

People need to wake up rather than support the fraudulent intentions of all acts of war. Threats of war and the creation of enemies serve to keep the masses under control by falsely arousing fearful emotions. War instigates unhealthy social chaos; it releases emotional repression based on feelings of victimhood and disempowerment. It is up to us as “humans” to understand our awareness and our attention to this awareness will determine the version of the world we wish to create! Do we want a peaceful world or do we want to follow the fashionable crowd further down into the depths of materialistic greed the feeds into power and conflict? WAKE UP for a change and think for yourself and consider this world and all the OTHER people who live and share in the human experience.
All of us have collectively lost our grasp of reality…myself included. Can we ever find it again?

There I am done with my rant! I suppose I should welcome any verbal berating that should come by way… as I like to think I have an open mind and intelligent enough to placate healthy discourse!

The third-rate mind is only happy when it is thinking with the majority. The second-rate mind is only happy when it is thinking with the minority. The first-rate mind is only happy when it is thinking.

Isometric Isomorphism

This poem will probably make absolutely no sense to anyone other than myself. I had a dream last night that I was standing in front of a shattered mirror screaming at the top of my lungs over and over again, "Isometric Isomorphism, Isometric Isomorphism!" This is just a weird poem inspired by a weird dream. I think I understand it but I am not sure if anyone else will!

Everyday I wake up to a one dimensional world...

human monotony
religion and politics together-a mind stunting neoteny
what travesty
people blind, not able to see outside and beyond indoctrinated reality
losing piece by piece their absolute totality
disillusioned by their stunted mentality

The Euclidean March I call it
prefected by political propaganda and holy writ

Humanity walks a very thin line
without knowledge of real time

Human monotony limiting us to one dimension
our intellect and consciousness are kept from ascension
handicapping our mind
making the truth so very hard to find

Humanity not thinking beyond one dimension barely seeing two
let alone three or four
or the possibility of there ever being more
no longer having the drive to explore
for a truth they would most certainly adore

They continue this one dimensional thinking
never rethinking
just one dimensional flat thinking

Thinking only inside out and never outside and beyond
just content trying to be part of the beau monde,
that never ceasing pathetic materialistic quest
of which the truly intelligent are never impressed

for the intelligent are always searching
and always researching

continuing to look for all the answers
they are the never tiring intellectual dancers

while the others are stuck in their false reality
that forecasts a certain fatality

Each person trapped on their own embedded layer
unable to see the truth of the universal multilayer

Stuck we are in a complex system of an isometric isomorphism
searching for our hyperbolic quaternion-our magic prism
we are stuck between untruth and truth in a hellish schism

Lucky I have been, for I have gazed through the optical prism
into a world that goes on infinitely outside the hellish schism
I have learned that when ordinary three dimensions of space combine
they form a single dimension of time
a waltz called Minkowski's Spacetime

a four dimensional manifold
a place where many dimensions of possibility unfold
a reality that is a true site to behold

The mindless mass of humanity can have their one dimensional world
I have held the knowledge of the truth unfurled
I have seen the truthful real world

I would rather waltz with Minkowski while singing his tune
than march with Euclidean to his doom

"Space by itself
and time by itself
are doomed
to fade away
into mere shadows
unless they dance
together in unison
preserving their
Independent Reality"

Einstein knew it, so too did Lorentz and Poincare

Chasing after Truth, Time, and Space for eternity shall by a wild affair!