Eyes are blue like the sky,
you're with me and I wonder why.
You became my best friend,
we'll be together till the end.
For you I'd do anything,
you're my queen, I'm your king.
I love you with all my heart,
when you sleep, you always fart.
My kids and you are all I have,
you love the way, I make you laugh.
You have a magical touch,
I love you so very much.
Even when life goes wrong,
all the bad things make us strong.
In the bed, we love to cuddle,
after sex, you leave a puddle.
We disagree on many subjects,
being in love is always complex.
Living together has many rewards,
our love making has won many awards.
You are so very beautiful,
even though you can be delusional.
We fight more than we should,
when I see you, I still get wood.
Money we don't have much of,
it doesn't matter cause we're in love.
How to make a poem,
That will never end
How to fix a broken heart,
When you know it will never mend.
How to be gorgeous with grace,
How to stop an infinate hate.
Snowbirds should be beautiful,
Girls should not be rude
But, oh, how we've changed
Even the best are crude.
Light blue lace insilks a treasure,
embroidery and patterns,
They used to make life better.
But oh, how we greed,
How we want,
How we seize.
Oh, how we loath
There is so much hate.
Everyone's so nice,
Everyone's so mean.
Everyone's a fake,
But they're all how they seem.
No need for emotions,
When you can't tell them apart.
No need to care,
When the whole world's in park.
Yet everyone loves,
And everyone's loved
And God has plans,
Near, but so far above.
Life is beautiful,
Even if it's in a twisted way,
Life is gorgeous,
Respect it all, because it will stay.
Horses running wild,
Penguins waddle free.
No matter who they are,
No matter the species.
How to contain an anger,
How to accept,
Nothing can happen
Live life at it's best.
But of course things do happen,
And of course they will
But you don't need to acknowledge that
Move on when you've had your fill.
How to be beautiful,
How to not care,
How to be a poet,
Because I'm not quite there.
How to be a writer,
How to know a deer,
To live like a hunter,
What is infinate fear?
Your soul animal,
Well, it runs through your soul
Picking little fights,
Warming you when you're cold.
It's a dark night,
But you can see the moon
It's a clear night,
But fog will drop soon.
It's a bright morning,
The birds chirp with cheer
But they are shot dead, not far from here.
Now, please, fear not,
There's this thing called the sun,
It works magic wonders
But this was part one.
look at you
fumbling at the clasp
of your bra
to the core
hoping I see you
hoping I save you
as if I have some
form of cure for
what you've done
you plead with me
--breath of a cheap
to let you stay
you ask me if I
think you're pretty
sure I respond
sure you're pretty
hell I haven't met
many naked women
standing in my
bedroom who aren't
but I can't save you
I'm not the one who
will keep you honest
not the one to kiss
you on the head
and tell you goodnight
sure you're pretty and
sure I'll fuck you, baby
but I don't think I can fix you
Dear Heavenly Father, I have a confession to make.
For I have received yet another heart break.
She stole my heart, broke it in two,
Then said, “I’m no longer in love with you”
Father, why does she have to be this way?
Please tell her I don’t want to hear what she has to say.
Father, for I have committed a sin,
That day when I let her in.
I want to forget her & what we once had.
All because she lied to me and made me sad.
Father, I am done playing her game.
I’m done with her handing me all the blame.
So if you would father, help me out,
And please show her what this is about.
For I still love her father
But she doesn’t love me so don’t even bother.
She said it was all a lie,
Father she made me cry.
I am weak but have to be strong
Father, what she did was wrong.
I know that now, I knew that then
Please father; get rid of these horrible women.
She used to control me father
Stop what things used to be.
I guess what we had was fake father.
This is the confession I had to make
She never loved me father.
So please don’t even bother
I don’t need someone to hold me tight
I was wrong & they were right
All I need is something that’s not there father
All I needed was for her to care
Father I do not want to let her go.
But its time, and we all know.
Father, my confession may be sad, or a bore,
But my heart hurts so much more.
Pleases father take the pain.
Remember she once said I was a little insane.
Take away the scars caused by this knife.
Oh please father, just take her out of my life.
I miss her so much father.
I miss her kiss and his touch.
For I must leave father,
Cause no one will ever replace my baby father
This is my confession.
They all said she was ‘my obsession’.
Father the time has come for me to stop needing her,
Now I believe them father.
Father I need some help down here.
Because you knew loosing her was my fear.
Now you’ve heard my confession, the one I had to make,
So please forgive her for her love, that was so fake
Poem a day, day 4
Falling is just like flying
Until you hit the ground.
Hit rock bottom.
Maybe that's why they call it falling in love.
Feels like flying
Or a bit like dying.
Stomach in your throat
At the sudden drop.
Exiting and scary
Where is this going
Am I soaring
Or am I crashing?
Which way's up,
Which way's down?
Don't let me hit the ground.
In his arms,
Is he my superman?
Will he catch me as I fall
And keep me from harm?
It's out of my control now
I fell without warning.
Surrender to the trip, wow
Sensations overwhelm me.
There you are, structure, bones
standing tall in the sunlight
all of the personality drained away.
Oh, goodbye to that twinkle in your eye
Goodbye to that thing we couldn't put our fingers on, that thing that sparked passion
Because all you are now, is a skeleton.
A skeleton with so many ghosts, war veterans, teachers and teenage girls that I used to know,
That old version of me who skipped, smiled and run her fingers through her hair
she dances through the corridors when no-one else is there.
Along they came. Dress you up, ready for business. That's one thing I learned from this, patch yourself up, make yourself look okay and no-one will realise how broken you are. No.
No, they won't notice the graffiti marks of those who have been,
on your skin.
No, they won't notice those damp patches,
in the corner,
of your eye.
They didn't notice how your ribs creaked as you let out a sigh,
your final goodbye.
They certainly didn't notice when you closed your eyes to die,
I remember when you comforted me from the world with soft, warm arms and friendly words.
I remembered how you nurtured us and watched us grow.
A loving kiss on the cheek and off we go, but I couldn't let you go.
So here I stayed to watch you drift away with each passing day as they measured your waist,
for the suit.
Pull it in tighter.
A stitch here,
a stitch there.
Iron out the crease.
No room to breathe.
The suit may not cover your face, but it is a mask, covering up mistakes.
The mistake of your missing heart, the drive, the ambition.
The mistake of your missing eyes, seeing goodness in the world, giving beauty to the hopeless.
And the mistake of your missing smile, inspiration for lost souls trying to find their way home.
But you, you were home to me, my skeleton.
Now however much you lose or decay, you will never go away.
You will always be there, a ghost in my memory.
My loving skeleton who is now in a suit.
No chains bound to my feet
No ropes tying my wings
No pain when I open my eyes
No ceilings to cover my skies
No tape to silence my mouth
No glue to bind me to the couch
No walls to cover my ears
No wheel to control my steer
No gloves to tame my fingertips
No needles to sew my lips
No mountains to block my path
No whips to lash my back
No shield to contain my feelings
No evil that grows for feeding
No cap to bottle my tears
No darkness when light is near
I don't like long poems much
I find them using complex emotion as a crutch
Occasionally apprehending the context of truth
Written only in the moment, shaken & little vermouth
They toy around attempting to play with words
Refusing to admit tomorrow this passing prose will uphold little worth
Between each line sleeps at least a second helping of second guessing
People write them as if we never get our feel, turkey extra dressing.
I'm occasionally the asshole who hurries to the last verse,
Avoiding connection with the writer, even if my own pieces suffer most
One of the most difficult things to achieve is to become what the world wants;
It's a great accomplishment to be who you are in a world that is making you something else;
Many people are not who they really are because they want to conform to the beauty of the world;
You now have a chance to say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind either.
Trying to be someone else is like making a new creation out of nothing, it will be nothing;
It's time to know that everyone else has already been taken, it's time you be yourself in everything;
Don't mind imperfection because it's beauty, madness is trying to be perfect, it's absolutely boring;
You now have a chance to follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness of imperfection.
Keenly look at those who are living the lives of their parents, they are older than their parents;
You will end up with a boring life because you wanted to be someone else, you don't deserve that;
Being who you are will invite many people to your life, being someone else will do the contrary;
Of course, people will love you for what you can do for them, and some won't like you at all, so be yourself.
If people love you, they will give you a chance to be yourself;
You will find friendship in people who give you total freedom to be yourself-and moreso to feel;
Whatever you happen to be feeling at any moment is fine with them. That's what real love is;
If I were you, I'd have started being myself even before finishing to read this poem. Be yourself.
The circles under my eyes darken with all the sleepless nights I’ve spent
By the answer I can never be
For my loves haunted by addiction
For all the fragments
I’m wondering if all my empty spots where love didn’t learn to grow are showing
Wondering if only God can love the broken things, if only God can love me
It took three days back in that life to make me question
Of my value
Worried people can see the sadness induced insecurity that’s triggering desperate longing
Craving the wrong places, people and choices because my haunted loves are right –
short term escape is more tempting
But it means murder of who I was meant to be and I’m unwilling to sacrifice everything I fought for
Everything I am
Today it’s a battle of tear stained lullabies and vintage heartbreak revivals
And I may be losing now
But I’ll be damned if I lose the war
Will anybody accept me
See I'm tring to help
That's all I try to do
I can't remember
The last time I was selfish
All I try to do is help
And all they do is hurt me
Well I'm done with it
Fed up with it
You don't want my help
See if I care
All they do
Is cause me pain
I think I'm a good person
I hope I'm a good man
We will see who is happy
In the end
I'll have the woman I love
In my arms
A roof over our head
Food on our plate
And plenty more
that I can promise
And they will
And see if I care
The love I feel is not all consuming. It does not come from a place of fear or hope, rather from the space the keeps my feet from touching the ground.
The love I feel is not all consuming. I have no unfortunate circumstance that threw me into this love. I am not damaged, simply unapproachable.
The love I feel is not all consuming. I do not think of his lips when I drift into a dreamless sleep. I do not compare the passion in his eyes to the burst of light at daybreak. He is a snow drift.
The love I feel is not all consuming. I don't reach out in the middle of the night wishing he were there. I do not read over our texts when he is gone and I am missing him. He is a rock in my hand: something to hold on to.
The love I feel is not all consuming, but I know that if I were honest with myself, I would write of all the times his kisses made me lose my breath, and the days that I spent in his arms, writing his name into my heart.
I call the beyond
the feather light side
I have seen it
held hands with my guardian there
and my Father as I walked
through a vivid garden
in silent paradise
It is so peaceful there
just a lightness of being
I can't help but think that life
this side of the cobwebbed door
is similar to a falling leaf
surrendered in autumn's change
A constant reminder
that we all fall
I tire of welcoming the hours
to get through another day
I am homesick
The feather light side
I call it
It is so peaceful there
I never wanted to leave
least to be here again
I'll close my eyes
And just drift away.
Maybe sometime soon,
You'll be here to stay.
I know it takes time.
Darling, that's okay.
I'll be by your side.
Just don't fade away.
You're scared, I can see.
Everyone around worries you.
Please realize that there is no need
For you to be afraid of me.
You can take my hand,
I'll show you the way.
I won't misguide you,
Or lead you astray.
I won't hurt you,
Or leave any scars.
You can stay by my side,
Like the moon and the stars.
I won't say that I love you.
For that, it's a bit too soon,
But darling, believe me when I say
That I truly care about you.
I'll open my eyes,
You're not by my side.
I'll just drift back off,
Then I can hide.
never strange enough i imagined
that some of my beloved friends,
who I so faithfully adore and admire..
are coequal participants of my life
with those dead poets, singers and writers
who left trace in my heart
and helped me to survive through weird times
thats what i clearly imagined
and i had imagined it for quite long index of time..
i thought when we talk with eachother
there is always invisible presence
of those dead evergreen souls acompannies us
the life served me contrar perspective
what a folly i only was
to think that my dear feelows-artists
have ever deserved my such gentle & sincere treat
like they were as tall as nervous souls like
antonin artaud, camille claudel or arthur rimbaud...
yeah, alas, i brutally failed..
if i look exactlier who is here for me
then the dreary fact reveals
to my deepest mourn
the tragic fact reveals
those dead poets are actually the lone living souls,
while my dear living friends are perfectly dead
I fall, helplessly into the meadow. The tall grasses embrace me with their long fingers. The soft yellow bells droop down onto my cheeks. They cover me in their sweet scent, and the warm butter sun melts onto my face. I push myself up with my arms to gaze at the sanctuary around me. A gentle breeze wisps in circles around my head. Several stray strands of hair dance on my cheeks, and catch in my eyelashes. I pull the tangles away from my face, and stand up. I am surrounded in a barrier of ancient willows and maples. They seem misplaced here, old, wrinkled, and sagging. For the rest of the meadow is a swaying sea of oddly touchable pastel flowers. I bring my hands up to my head, and touch my hair. The light is warming my agave colored hair. I step forward, and laugh melodically at the feeling beneath my feet. The soil is welcoming, and the long tentacles of the green grass tickle my toes. I realize when I look down, that my feet are bare. I forget what happened to my sandals. In a flash, the thought of how I arrived here passes through my mind. And then it’s gone.
The grass whispers and brushes, rustling a delicate sound. But apart from that, there is only one sound. Somewhere distant, somewhere unknown, my ear catches the music of my childhood. Ocean waves, pulsing against the earth. Suddenly, a current of air snags the light fabric of my dress. And with that current, like a child’s kite, I am picked up from my feet. I can feel an indescribable sensation in my stomach. It flutters like the butterflies that float around me. My feet pedal like on a bicycle, and I roll around in the magic that lifts me. My laughter rings in the sanctuary as I drift higher, up into the sky. Beyond the wall of trees, I can hardly distinguish the features of the land. Pillowy clouds lie low, and random branches from the trees sometimes peak out the tops. The horizon erupts in a splash of rose pink, mango, and turquoise. A pure, innocent beauty.
The ecstasy is abruptly interrupted. I look beneath me, and I am painfully, suddenly aware that I am floating, high above the ground beneath me. The spell is broken. My body drops, plummeting down, fast. I scrunch my eyes shut, and brace for the hit. But there is none. I cautiously open my eyes and realize I am mere inches above the ground, suspended in the current. I reach my fingers down, to kiss the earth with my fingertips. My legs and waist elegantly lower with the rest of me to the ground. I turn over onto my knees, breathing rigidly, attempting to regain my composure.
Where am I? This world, I am found in, is curious. I doubt this reality. One cannot simply escape from the world! With great doubt, I raise up my hand to cup the daffodil in my palm in front of me. It never falls into my palm. Instead, the petals begin to grain, and distort. And in a matter of seconds, it simply vanishes. In confusion, I look to the sky, and watch as the vibrant blue fades to a wan purple and cracks, like the shell of an egg.
“This can’t be real-“ I mutter to myself. The long branches of the willows evaporate their leaves, and like skeletons and bones, dry up as if submerged in acid. I stand up, and spin, desperately looking for a part of this world. Something, still alive, something animate. I twist and turn in desperation, the world around me smearing into nothing.
My breathing is rapid, and uneven. I lift my face from my pillow. Sweat beads on my forehead, and my hair sticks to my neck. I look down, still in pajamas. Lying in my bed.
I am baffled. Was this a nightmare? No. Not quite. But, was it? I scoff at my ridiculousness. Of course it wasn’t real. What am I thinking? I sigh, and lie my head back down to my pillow, and turn my head to the window. ‘Sleep again, it wasn’t real’, I tell myself. But, just as I start to shut my eyes, something catches my eye. Despite the impenetrable darkness that lurks in my bedroom, I spot something soft and yellow. Set atop my rug, lies the same delicate, yellow daffodil, waiting for me to cup it gently in my palm.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/5860#sthash.AZ9GFLye.dpuf
She struggles to bring
the pen to the page
she wants to tattoo the
page with their story.
She is skeptical
why does she want to
live in the past?
That's what it
will be tomorrow.
create her to be stuck
wanting to believe her
Lets cling to the unknowing
and love the ignorance
there is no hurting if
you have no one.
That's the only
truth that holds true.
All those words we shared,
funny how now they mean
Forever is just a fairytale
to keep you reading until the
last page is found
a blank white canvas;
no prince charming ending.
Yet she still
lets it burn into her pages.
She wants an impossible
Light is out why you toss on the bed
is there a poem storming your head?
is it some ache gnawing at your heart
bubbles of thoughts are breaking for a start?
How the night passes hours you don't keep
eyes forget closing shut tight in sleep
with tears and joys you bring the newborn
hold them close so they live to see the morn.
At the nightly hunt eyes glow like hawk
preying on words defying the restive clock
your mind runs roaring maneuvers your hand
turbulent oceans, the sky and the land.
You move beyond boundaries, cities and towns
reaching up the mountains digging deep down
sailing with the drift when an oasis you find
you let the night go, blank goes your mind.
When I feel like I'm cracking and thinking of packing it in,when suicide is no more than a sin and the only thing I'm likely to win at,and the rat that I am becomes less of a man the more that I think,I sink into depression, my expression shows nothing and nothing can help me.
I see dark brooding clouds overhead,with my head in the ground,I can scream not a sound will be heard by the herds of humanity,insanity it may be,nobody sees me and so,down I go, to the rapture of the rhapsody show,where the mad moans of inmates grate on my nerves,which all serves to send me more herds of humanity,
and they trample me down even more,
when the train comes I crack and the track looks inviting,fighting is pointless,the darkness is endless,and
white noise for bad boys, and the steel lines chime as they mark out my passing,mass said at the graveyard for the man who tried so hard to put on a smile,missed by a mile though and sometimes that's the way that things go.
The words they slept in shadows,
Unspoken in the night.
When a hand reached forth
With nightshade blade,
To poison anothers plight.
Oh Lord of Lamentations.
Let the aether surround
With reams of false augmentation.
For the sick and the weak
Those we ignore and mistreat
Are no longer eight hours away.
Empires will fall
While we rest and decay
To the light of day.
my dreams walk
the blurred lines
hopes and fears
than i dare think
in waking moments,
from some sleeping recess
the dusty musings
of experiences forgotten,
a painting masterful
and then defiles
with the random spatterings
of fearful colors,
from frame to easel
and onward to the floor
until it pools at my feet...
where it wakes me
from my restless sleep
leaving me to wonder
just how many more
and rooms are waiting
to be unlocked...
feels unfinished... but then...
aren't they all
There once was a boy
Who took on destiny
Standing on one leg
And without a slither of mercy
He killed her
With a funny joke
And his old wooden cane
It may not seem like it
And it wont for a while
But those bolts and pins in your leg
Are for Your smile
She's a sultry one, I know
seducing me with words I've used before
but never felt the weight until they came
From fingers nimbly graceful as her' s
When I see her profile I smile
Knowing what her words will do
though she's a thousand miles away
she can whisper clear as day
Make me feel again all those things
I ran from and forgot (or tried to)
She reminds me that I am not
Pining alone, or uselessly
If written words were miles
and reading the same as traveling
I'd be at your front door by now
begging for one more verse
These greedy walls
as they suck
my breath away,
They leave me here
in haunting thoughts
My body struggles
of paralytic thought,
I try to open
just one window
but find it sealed ...
with bolts & locks.
In my weakest hour
the doors and windows fly open wide,
Released by the warmth of your kiss
and from the chains
I've tried to hide.
they wanted to be high school
to reignite that past flame
a chance did arise for the two
they seized the opportunity
to link up
they've done all in their power
to rerun their high school days
the ember of love
was ever in the background
just waiting for the appropriate time
back in 1977 they left Grafton High School
to pursue careers
and as a consequence
they lost touch
but a fellow pupil
was organizing a class reunion
she invited them
to the get together
once they locked eyes at this occasion
those old feelings
their love was rekindled
as it was
in those high school days
A waif on this earth,
Sick, ugly and small,
Contemned from my birth
And rejected by all,
From my lips broke a cry,
Such as anguish may wring,
Sing, — said God in reply,
Chant poor little thing.
By Wealth's coach besmeared
With dirt in a shower,
Insulted and jeered
By the minions of power,
Where — oh where shall I fly?
Who comfort will bring?
Sing, — said God in reply,
Chant poor little thing.
Life struck me with fright —
Full of chances and pain,
So I hugged with delight
The drudge's hard chain;
One must eat, — yet I die,
Like a bird with clipped wing,
Sing — said God in reply,
Chant poor little thing.
Love cheered for a while
My morn with his ray,
But like a ripple or smile
My youth passed away.
Now near Beauty I sigh,
But fled is the spring!
Sing — said God in reply,
Chant poor little thing.
All men have a task,
And to sing is my lot —
No meed from men I ask
But one kindly thought.
My vocation is high —
'Mid the glasses that ring,
Still — still comes that reply,
Chant poor little thing.
Such a tedious thing,
I sense our existence appears.
For my chest to breech to the sky,
A tightened blossom of whipping purity.
Then to sink towards such a vicarious engulfment of hell.
With each palpitating symposium,
My lungs waver.
To crust over,
and bless the,
upon gilded guffaws.
Perturbed of my ascension.
Or shall they sink,
Sallow under chagrined blasphemy,
My horridness inked upon
parchment seasoned skin.
a child of bitter consideration.
I shall butter myself in ashes,
just to perceive myself a shadow.
For at dusk's beckon,
perturbed; to kiss the constellations.
Blemishes I conjured,
beneath a quavering lip,
a gentle crease of my nose.
I silence their whimpering of wrongdoings,
which I have failed to rupture.
in such a bubbling manner.
It gurgles at my lips.
Dribbles before me,
Whilst the sun blinks back a yawn.
Yet, upon a lunar serenade,
the talons which protrude from my veins,
To my supposed
I see no anchor.
From them, to what lay before me.
To where I shall drift.
And good sir,
label my simplistic existence,
if you must.
Yet I shall soon die,
and so, you will too.
And by that flicker of seconds,
we should matter no more.
Billy got a shovel.
Chipmunk sat on his shoulder.
They wandered away from town,
away from the businesses and restaurants,
far from the counting and court houses,
past the auto service stations,
until even the roads were gone.
Chipmunk said, Stop here.
"This spot looks good?" Billy asked.
The ground is soft.
"It's too soft. It won't do."
Billy stamped his foot down onto the flesh of the earth
and his brand-spanking-new boots caked themselves in mud.
"No no, this won't do."
We're far enough, now. You can dig here.
So, Billy dug.
At first the digging was easy
and shovelful after shovelful flew behind them both.
Then, Bill struck a pipe
and clean water geysered straight up for a hundred and fifty feet in the air
and splashed down all around them, but they were in the eye of it
so neither of them got wet, and Chipmunk hated water.
"Not the place- I told you."
Three and a half miles later, the pair stopped for a slice of rhubarb pie they brought with them.
What time do you have?
"I don't have a watch."
I bet it's forty minutes past the hour. And this place looks perfect.
Billy sunk his shovel into the ground, again.
He dug and dug and dug and dug and dug
[and eventually found an old brass sheriff's star, which he discarded,
but not before Chipmunk sunk teeth into it and deemed it to be
"antique-trash that belongs next to a green glass Coke bottle and a dirty skull"]
and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and-
One more shovelful and we'll be in Colorado,
and we'll never make it back from that cold.
"What should I do?"
Put down the shovel, Billy Boy.
People had started to gather
because a tabloid published
a picture of Billy shirtless,
[he gets sweaty while digging],
and they wanted to know what
all the fuss was about.
So, Chipmunk got a hold of a megaphone
and addressed the seemingly-ever-increasing crowd:
If a wild beast sleeps under a poisoned tree,
and all night the tree poisons the thoughts of the dreamer,
do you blame the beast or the tree when the dreams come true?
If your heart is held together by very tight stitches,
and one of those stitches starts coming loose, and you feel it,
will a cold glass of cognac, and a warm hand to hold put it back together?
The crowd was dead silent.
An elderly man in the back stroked a long white beard
and a child standing next to him looked up at him stroking his beard
and the mother of that child looked down at the child looking at the man
and the light struck her glasses just so that the stars saw her light years away
and nobody noticed Billy, eyes closed at the bottom of the pit.
A steamy trail of particulate vapor issues from her lips
tracing the outline of her silhouette and rising
it diffuses into nothingness
Don’t listen to what your parents or teachers tell you, kids-
smoke is very sexy.
she exhales again
slithers languidly through the still air
stretching for something-
rolls across my coffee table
like dunes in fast-forward
drips off the edges-
She puffs a thick ring at me
it crosses through the void space toward me;
I reach out to touch it- to grasp it
and it dissipates;
it traces the airflow-
the negative space
like a jungle cat pretending to be
the light between the leaves
she knows this
and she can see that I know she does
is why I am so captivated
and in general-
escaping you was no easy task
my brain erupted with fear,
but when it came to facing you
your voice was all i could hear
"what are you doing darling?"
you whispered, so very close
i really don't want to be here
a face too pale for a ghost
my stomach, tied in knots
your waterfall eyes, began to grow
i am sorry, so very sorry
and then the tears, begun to flow
with small, paced footsteps
i turned to walk away;
to dive back into the ocean
darling, i cannot stay.
I want all the cliches with you
I want the kiss underneath the mistletoe,
I want the kiss on New Year's,
I want to give you roses and chocolate on Valentine's Day,
I want to go egg hunting with you,
I want a picnic, ants and all,
I want to sit and watch the stars,
And I want to kiss your nose when it's cold
But even though I won't get it,
I can still dream can't I?
Dreams are all I have left
They're all I have left.
Bottled up inside
Are the things I never said,
The feelings that I hide,
The lines you never read
You can see it in my eyes,
Read it on my face,
Trapped inside are lies,
Of the past I can't replace
With memories that linger,
And won't seem to go away,
Why can't I be happier?
Today’s a brand new day
Yesterdays are over
Even though the hurting is not,
Nothing lasts forever,
I must cherish what I've got
Don't take my love for granted,
For soon it will be gone,
All you've ever wanted,
Of the love you thought you won
The feelings I have now
Won’t disappear overnight,
But somehow, someway everything will be alright
I'm leaving now
To slay the foe
Fight my battles
High and low
I'm leaving parents
Hear me go
Please wish me luck today
I've grown my wings, I want to fly
Seize my victories where they lie
I'm going guys, but please don't cry
Just let me find my way
I want to see, and touch, and hear,
Though there are dangers, thoughts, and fears,
I'll smile my smiles, and wipe my tears
Please let me speak my say
I'm off to find, my world, my dreams,
Carve my niche, sew my seams
Remember as I sail my seas,
I'll love you all the way
dots riddle my face
for what looks like a game in a child's activity book
hiding from the world
feeling scarred and broke
these blemishes make up me
some are physical and most our mental
but still every one is so judgmental
they say society is ugly
then I must be society
i feel them stare as walk past
not wanting any moment to last
for every battle i win, a war awaits me
i see the beauty of the sun
just to watch the darkness of the night take over
confidence is key
but where's the lock
these blemishes make up me
some are physical and most our mental
but still every one is so judgmental
i wake up every morning to to rest again
dreading the hours to past
locked up in my own chain
getting called cute or hot
only lasts a moment
while i remember the ugly within
I am the oak bent or' and aged
That once stood brave as natured raged
the lines were drawn the battle staged
and man with time compassion caged
I am the field scarred by each track
that shared the weight of soldiers pack
and too felt pain from shell and flak
and those gone forth no more came back
I am the breeze scented with death
as noxious gas inhaled as breath
sent young men blind without the f
and yet their leaders ears were deaf
I am the rain washed or their blood
and roused the poppies from their bud
to honour all whom fought for good
but died before they ever should
I am the cross the epitaph
the stolen kiss the chance to laugh
when young men walked the broken path
of anguish and the aftermath
I am the note that says beware
tread lightly here with tender care
for fresh eyed boys with features fair
bore arms for you now your weight bare
I am the oak with shrapnel scars
that guides their souls to waiting stars
where commoners prop up the bars
toasting their faith with three hoorars
Everyone journeys to be more but stuck in the struggle
Some desire love while others chase dreams
Careers that others told them would never happen
Obsessed and determined to more
Stuck with less deep down you can be the best
Limits and held back all you want to do is breakout
Feeling good others poison the mind with doubt
Stand tall others want to see you fall
Broken within hide the pain keeping busy not lost in thought
Shattered memories remain that one wants to relive
With the good comes the bad everything will be fine
Be happy over sad moments stuck in tim
Tell me how to hold you
Tell me how to care
Please, confide in me
Your secrets wont you share?
Don't just walk away
I can see the pain in your eyes
Don't say you're okay
Stop feeding me lies
I see the way they treat you
You walk with your head hung low
You're sweating and you're shaking
You think I don't know?
I want to stop the hurting
I want to end your grief
You're not worthless
Trust in my belief
Your smile dazzles in any lighting
You're always gentle with your touch
You're amazing to me
I hope that's not too much
I want to make you happy
I want to make you dance
I want you to live
And this may be my last chance
Sing with me to the heavens
Let's close our eyes with prayer
And when I wake up tomorrow
I really hope you're there
You're everything I wish to be
And I'm nothing at all
You're everything I'll ever need
And I'm nothing you'll ever want
And sure, you say you love me now,
But what about tomorrow?
What happens when we go back to school
And everyone's cold stares follow?
I'm scared --Scared of losing you
To someone else's selfish desires
But for now, listen when I call you in the dark
Be my lover --Be my fire
Keep me warm in the cold the late nights bring
Shed your light down upon me,
Show me the paths I must take to your heart
So that I may steal it for myself
Because I know that if it isn't me,
It'll be someone else
A thought I cannot comprehend enough
To even write about
I guess what I'm trying to say
I don't care how many glances get shot our way
It doesn't matter if your mind changes
And it's okay to make many mistakes
As long as its we who face them
Be my lover --Be my fire
Be my everything and know
That you are my selfish desire
And nothing I'm ever letting go
I know you said you'd never leave.
But I can't trust that cause so did he.
I was going to be with him forever.
That was my dream.
He would be my king.
And I his queen.
For the love that he gave me.
Was just as ours.
We were happy together
Until his popularity grew large.
He was too got for me,
The shy, sad, bother to the world.
I wanted so badly to be good enough for him
So I changed myself completely just to fit in.
In the blink of an eye I was gone.
I would never be found again.
I tried to be happy for as long as could be.
But every one could tell it really wasn't me.
He became my everything.
I breathed him in and held him for as long as I could.
But the thing about inhaling a substance
Is eventually you have to exhale.
And our exhale was sudden and scary.
It was the cough that gets stuck in your throat.
I held it in anyway. Through the cough and the pain
And for that I'm sorry
I held on for too long when clearly you didn't want me anymore.
That is my only regret with him.
That and falling too fast
And as long as I live
I'll remember what he did and I'll never be the same
And the words I love you will never come out of my mouth again
So thank your dear old friend for what he did to me
Because now our love is tarnished.
I guess we weren't meant to be
She waits for the school bus with her younger sister and a few others. The weather is warm and dry, clear blue and white clouds in the sky. Elaine knows he'll be on the bus; she's thought of nothing else, but that, since she woke that morning. Even on the loo, she thought about him; about how he had kissed her the day before; about how it was her first kiss from a boy, brushing of lips, not pressed hard. Over breakfast, she sat eating the breakfast her mother had prepared for her, thinking of him, mouthing the cereal, seeing him in her mind’s eye. As she washed after breakfast, she had him in mind, wondering if he would want to kiss her again that day, wondering if she'd let him or if she should. She had dressed slow, him in mind, taking her time, having borrowed her mother's old fashion scent, put on underwear, bra, blouse, skirt and white ankle socks and sat gazing at herself in the mirror, looking through her just cleaned with spittle, spectacles. She looked frumpish. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her head, raised her chin, gazed. She was so shy it hurt. Not then, while looking at herself in the mirror, but when she was with others, and they were gazing at her, or talking to her or at or about her. Teachers could make her cry, by just a stern look or words bellowed at her. Her stomach churned; nerves, she supposed, going once more to the loo, shutting the door, locking it, sitting. A book was on the shelf. Her father's book of butterflies. He kept it there to view while on the loo. He had a room full of books. Most beyond her understanding. She took the book down; the dust jacket was torn. She opened it up and randomly looked at the pictures. What was the butterfly, John had said about? She tried to recall, but she couldn't, there were so many. She closed the book and put it back on the shelf. The bus was coming around the bend in the road, thoughts of the morning at home, vanish in a wave of nerves that grips her stomach. The bus stops and the door opens. She waits with her sister and the others, then boards the bus herself. She feels self-conscious, aware that others are gazing at her as she makes she way along the aisle of the bus, to the seats, where she and her sister, usually sit. Some one says, Hello, Frumpy, and there is scattered laughter, she blushes, looks at the floor as she walks on, tries to focus, knowing he is on the other side of the aisle, maybe looking at her, maybe not. The normal chatter resumes, the radio is blasting out a pop song, she sits by the window, looks out, gets herself comfortable, undoes her coat. Her sister chats to friends nearby, laughter, giggles, loud voices. Is he looking? She stares out the window. The bus moves away, hedges, trees and fields, pass by quickly. She wonders about him. Is he there? has he come today? She wants to look and see, but can't get her head to turn. The scene changes quickly: hedges, fields, cottages, birds in flight, a tractor in a field, a road, sheep, cows, and a man by a fence. Is John looking over his seat at her? Have a look. No, I can't. Go on. No I can't. She fidgets, moves in the seat, pulls at her skirt, adjusts her bra that's tight. Some one sings along to the song on the radio. Her sister joins in. Life and soul of. Have a look. Casually. She pushes her toes to the top of her shoes. Presses hard. She pushes her hands in between her thighs. Feels anxious. Feels the need to pee come on; nerves that’s all, nothing more. Ignore, think of something else. That morning, as she washed under her arms, she noticed, what seemed for the first time, hairs, dark, curly, under her armpits. She'd not noticed before. Not cared more like. But now she did see them, and thought: he might see. How? Going to show him your armpits and say look at these hairs, John? She blushed as she soaped, rinsed and dried. And lower down, where he mother had said to keep clean and fresh, she noticed, as if it had grown over night, pubic hairs. She tried not to notice usually; pretended they weren't there, as she had once tried to ignore, the first swellings on her chest, the bulb-like swellings that worried her, until her mother, under her breath, said: they're your breasts, all girls get them eventually; it means you’re becoming a woman. What a burden. She wasn't sure she wanted to become a woman, she told her mother. No choice in the matter, her mother said, smiling. She hates the long bus ride to school; hates the chatter, laughter, music bellowing, snorts and giggles. Is he looking? Have a quick gaze. No, I can't. Should she? Just a quick glimpse, turn of her head, a innocent turn and look. What if he's looking at her and she blushes red as a spanked backside? No, best not to. Pretend we don't care. Look at the passing view. When she had undressed for bed the night before, and stood there, staring at herself in the tall mirror, she thought herself frumpy. She stood there gazing. Her sister asleep. Stood looking at her face. The glasses, her eyes, large and dark. Her nose, flattish, broad. Her mouth, too wide, like a fish grinning. She had made a kissing sound. Pursed her lips. Some one laughs on the bus; she looks around, Goldfinch, the boy next to John, guffaws noisily, but John has his head turned towards the window, unconcerned. She sits and studies the top of his head, the hair, the turn of head, half profile, glimpse. As she removed her bra the night before, as she prepared for bed, she unclipped the back fiddly bits, and let it slip away; her breasts feeling free, warm, and just there, waiting, a fully fledged nature study. She had dressed quickly, pretended they weren't hers. She was stepping out of her comfort zone. She looks out of the window, the passing scene: trees, hedges, fields, hills, rabbits, cows and onward. She closes her eyes. Tries not to think of her bladder calling. Pushes her hands deeper between her thighs. Shuts out sounds, laughs, chatter, music, snorts and giggles. She sees behind her closed eyes, the kiss again, him kissing her on the sports field, the day before. Feels it still. The slight touch of lips. Brushing skin on skin. And his hand, where had that been? One on her arm, holding her nearer to him, the other, touching her back, her spine, fingers walking downwards. The touch, lips, warm, wet, and she opens her eyes, and feels a rush of feelings, along her nerves, spine, arms and legs, and her stomach churns, her heart thumps wildly as if it's her last. But none has seen, none has felt. Her sister still talks, Goldfinch sits and gabbles, and John, he sits unaware, that she is burning wildly, inwardly, a rush of electricity rushes along her nerves, a glow down below, her mind is confused and alive, and she sitting there with that: I'm out of my comfort zone, scared look and soft moan.
I held you so close
The stitches of our clothes hissed with envy;
Turning white fibres a subtle vomit-green.
Like we poisoned them with our
Whispers, desperate toes curling,
Fingers gripping bed posts
With the earthy sound of sleepy wood chipping.
And teeth on skin,
Back bones bucking upwards to eachother
From neck-nibbles that spread like wildfire.
But that's just it,
You are wildfire.
You spread from limb to limb,
With all but a flicker and a heavy sigh,
And I'm helpless when you set me alight.
Nought but the deepest pain could bring me
To part with your smoky husk
And fiery hips,
And all the ways you find your way inside me.
I wish I could tell you it was a Thursday,
Maybe give the beginning of our extra load a concrete date.
But I can't tell you it was Thursday and I
Can't tell you it wasn't.
Sometimes I'm glad the devil is in the details
Because then with me he'll never be found.
I know I should be able to tell you how my
Bones felt that day will all that new weight,
But honestly they feel the same today.
I swear the palms of my hands look too thin for the
Weight of my world,
My fingers too short to count the number of
Times I've been unsure how much longer
My legs can go.
But where my body fails my heart wont,
And though sometimes strength dictates that
The words I can't write leave paper cuts beneath my nails,
I swallow every word for safekeeping.
I'd give them back if I had any pounds to lose,
But I don't worry anymore for the safety of
The pages choked down,
Because I don't need a bookmark to remember
Where to add in more,
That is what my heart is for.
i drove into one of those famous tunnels beneath the Chesapeake
under a freighter that lumbered in its foggy distance,
still off about half a mile
i thought the kids might get a kick out of this experience
but they were busy in the rear view mirror,
snared in silent worlds of mini screen devices i bought to see them smile
there's only static on the radio now, like no more bourbon left in the bottle
and you're so quiet
this is my life - the thrumming dented van within a sterile white tile fortress,
ears on verge of popping
i hear humming tires, the thumps of each heart beat
trapped inside, heterodyned
the waters are still as time walks over them
with hushed footsteps, tentative and scared
the quietly pale whispered morning mist
covers the dawn in a blushing glow
the trees rustle a slowly brilliant melody
green to green
a red sun rising
a red sun rises
a red sun hangs suspended in the air like magic
clouds pass by, here lies shadow and shade
sounds of an expanse too great to fathom
tickle my ears and fill my stomach
the grass grows up and curls between my toes
green to green
a red sun setting
a red sun sets
the thin golden veil left when the sun leaves flows like melting butter
the evening is slashed apart by speeding cars
with hands saying takemehometakemehome
sing to me the universe, a dinnertime serenade
as the day bleeds into darkness
gold to deep blue
a black moon rising
a black moon rises
the night is an unrequited love moved deeply by stardust
it shifts like the undersea, pulled back by the moon
midnight greetings to those up above this ocean
mother points her finger to make circles in the stream
bask in the glory of a melancholy sky
gold to deep blue
a black moon fading
a black moon fades
the waters are still as time walks over them
Imagine if the nativity
Took place now instead of then
With technological advancement
It'd be on the news at ten
In fact it would make youtube
A film clip at the stable
Taken by a shepherd boy
Underneath a table
The three wisemen would go on Skype
The gifts would be en route
No need to travel all the way
With the traffic in Beirut
Phone banks would be all set up
To raise funds for the birth
The internet would be a buzz
With the greatest news on earth
No camels, inns or drummer boys
There'd be no one there at all
The Angel of The Lord would be
Black Friday shopping at the mall
In fact I do not think that it
Would be a deal that we would follow
Social media and the press
Would make it all seem hollow
I'm glad it happened when it did
As time has come to pass
With Jesus in a manger
And wisemen there en masse
I don't think it'd be Christmas
If Christ was born today
Without a cd or a movie deal
Or a sport that he would play
Christmas is...and always will
Be the story we were told
I'm glad it didn't happen now
If I may be quite so bold
Unto man a child was born
And he, the son of God....
i never thought i'd be this person
addict; stealing, stealing, stealing
say it out loud, mom
your daughter is an addict
i'm not saying its your fault you couldn't have known
but you neglected your pills; you left them alone
and i couldn't resist the temptation
seen it on tv. heard it in songs. oxy
three letters consumed me.
one taste; i was in love
god, the high
the high it was like
heaven heaven heaven
but soon, two wasn't enough
and thus came the first increased dose
three four five now six
snort them, baby. the burn!
obsessed with the burn
and my glazed eyes, god you could see the ocean
but the comedown was hell
even more so because i was used to heaven
it was hard for me to comedown
keep poppin' em so you're always up
always in the clouds
you wont understand that metaphor
unless you've been there;
unless you've seen yourself floating
surrounded by white; high
I was born forgotten, and grew up alone.
But i always saw an ambient light shining down on me..
I can feel the pain in people's hearts and cry for them.
I can't cry for myself..
abandoned, judged, and forgotten, yet smiling like i have everything in the world..
and suffering on the inside..
I was born forgotten...and grew up alone..
But i still found a way to give people there happiness..
I never gave up..
at a young age i knew everyone deserves to smile..
I was born forgotten.. and grew up alone...
of course i had "friends".
but i also had a best friend
he knew me so well and i loved him dearly.
he's always been there..
I was born forgotten...and grew up alone..
My bestfriend died..
but i still smile..
thats a plus right?
i'm so strong..
i can still help people..
I was forgotten and growing up alone...
I have a new bestfriend..
but he understands me..
he gives me the best advice..
"die, your better off"
"i can't, not until i've helped everyone find there happiness "
I'm dying forgotten and will die alone.
depressed says im stubborn..
i tell him to fuck off..
he says no one loves me..not even her..
i tell him but i do..
depressed says i should stop trying..
I tell him i still have to help..
I'm forgotten and alone..
I'm giving up now..
depression introduced me to death but he just understands himself..
that's probably why he has alot of friends..
i want friends..
death says he will be my friend..
i was born forgotten... and died alone...
death is waiting..
but there are still people crying..
i know im better off...
but i can still help..
or maybe not.
i like artists
artists of all kinds
artists of words
artists of colour
artists of thoughts
they're the civilisation
they're the world
they're the visionaries
the hearts of gold
an artist is the one with the voice
the radiance of the sun
the summer in your eyes
the lover in disguise
the hurt in the dark
the tears and the smiles
an artist hides deep down
the one who lives in pain and shame
they say artists will never survive
i say artists are the reason we're still alive
Following in the footsteps
of a lady dressed in white
not quite day
not quite night
We reach a pearly car
pop open the trunk
Startled by the cow skull
then she howls at the moon
I do too
as if our savage
want to be
you are no one
darling i'm lost
you are the only one that has my back
and you are no one
I hear the echoes of all the laughter of these times i forgot to enjoy
in every half-step between breath and anxiousness.
I know you will remember that i loved you all until it hurt
and that helps to alleviate the guilt of making it my aim to miss.
I can't help felt, i crash standing up
between the spaces of my grace and shamelessness
I have left up to my haphazard luck
and you are no one
a howl in the night maybe
you are a ghost
that only whispers in my ear
when i've lost all sense of self-control
and i've become no one
you know I know you did it
darling i'm drunk
and i know you know i'll just forget it
because we are no one
Let me whisper you a world spread in open-palm
and lay you wide-pictures etched in cobble-stone
till your feet find their way in the wake of alt-time
Let me grow you orchards on margins of probabilities
and capture breezy-smiles to place upon your sleeve
till illumined-steps of afternoon crumble before angels
Let me turn the planets on fingertip high upon wheel-rim
and show you matte mirror-lakes of superb-chances
till the evening-sky feels the shy-tiptoe of moon-kiss
please… let me….?
S T - 4 dec 13
Inspired by kate bush song.
even if you (ever) go away in the afternoon
I will wait for you
even in the next time
the odds are.. evening out
I lost myself
in all of my sorrows
I forgot who I was
I forgot what I stood for
I forgot why people liked being around me
I forgot how it feels to feel happy with myself
I forgot how it feels to be able to look in the mirror
Without shedding tears that could produce an ocean
I forgot what I promised myself
I forgot what it felt like to exist
I forgot what it felt like to be cared for
I forgot what it felt like to feed off of true love
not the love in intimate relationships
but the love of my family and friends
I became so focused on artificial love
I was addicted to it
But every time I loved
They'd tell me I wasn't enough
One boy even told me I should never feel love
because I don't deserve it
Another told me that I was an item
And the one after that told me he loved me
He made me feel like I was finally worth something
But then, he just left
and I promise all of you
that when I do something wrong
or when I'm telling a story of a fight or a breakup
I list the things that I did wrong as well
I'm never biased with my side of the story
But when I tell you
I did nothing but try
I mean it
I was just being myself
and I guess that's where I went wrong
And I've heard all the advice before
"You need to learn to be independent"
"You need to stop falling so fast"
"You need to stop giving yourself up"
I know all of these things, I really do
But I don't think they understand how hard it is
to walk with broken legs
to breathe in polluted air
to exist without a purpose
to love but never be worth it
As I lay in the bedroom,
My own personal confinement'
in which I oh so willingly created for myself,
I feel myself on fire,
My hands shaking out of utter frustration,
fighting every tear welling up in my eyes with all that I have left of my sense of mind,
But for what reason?
to be strong,
to reassure myself,
I ask myself what use is it to be strong if your utterly alone,
With no one to care weather your strong or not,
So I let go,
but just for a moment,
I allow myself to remember the pain,
the memories I locked away,
hoping someday they would cease to exist,
The troubling feelings that twist my heart and bring me to my knee's
letting out slow puffs of breath I calm my emotions,
wipe the water from my eye's ,
clear the tortured expression that once lay on my face,
I leave the moment and enter back into the world I made myself believe in,
I pretend to be strong.
Tell me your dreams
The desires for which you so
Tell me so I can see the burning passion
in your piercing eyes
The sparkles that shine so prominently
Tell me your fears
The nightmares where dreaded creatures lurk in the
darkness, attempting to penetrate your mind
Tell me so I can prevent those common shadows before
they befuddle and torment you
The burning fury they obtain when they engulf you
at your most vulnerable state
Tell me how your mind works
The intricate way for which those wonderful
thoughts of yours flow
Tell me how to be so magically profound about
life, time, and death
The ways of straying away from reality to catch
a glimpse of paradise
Tell me the forbidding truth about my unfortunate path
The cold, naked, and abandoned road for which
I have regrettably travelled upon
Tell me that paradise is at the bottom of a trench
And I shall allow myself to fall, so that my life
shall perish happily upon landing in paradise
The corpse lied untouched,
In the crepuscular light,
her shadow enkindled.
Her kins stood panic-stricken.
Her fidelity was being questioned.
It was time now for the sun to set.
The birds were finding there way.
And the darkness was about descend like everyday
The shadows seemed to be taking over the grimaced faces
But she however,
Was trying to resurrect her soul.
This was the epitome of her infatuation.
But she had always been an Ailurophile,
words are better on paper and candlelight
the smell of ink and crisp turns of pages white
the binding creaks and soul writ in
this screen is not the same thing friend
it's maddening for this phone to change my words
ah, how often it does so
as if it knows
as if it grows
what could it show
when has itself,
alone so rowed
of feelings felt
or horrors shown
or magick felt
or fury spoke
or walked along a razors edge
hanging on by just a thread
or strained beyond all known thought
or had a thought that wasn't taught
or quenched a lust
so fervent wrought
or plagued its mind
with glory sought
or told a tale
that others'd not
what a soul
that this thing's got
So what if you think I'm crazy
No phase if you can't handle me
I'm too honest for anybody's games
"Jennaveve, is that..your real name?"
No it's not, it's Jenny from the block
Work two jobs always looking at the clock.
If you want, I'd take a pit stop road trip.
Anywhere but don't make it so quick.
This is where I list off a bunch of places I'd rather be. Nothing different just different faces I'd rather see. Venice, California or Lanikai, Hawaii
I write a lot but once n a while these trapped thoughts convey messages that ought to be taught.
This rap is only half through.
For a white girl it's kind of hard to do.
Nahhh it's not being racist is inside of a box,
it's closed, locked, sealed up tight.
Only open minded people
can see daylight in the night.
"Or rides the night train
all the way to the light"-said Mr. Ahmad
I've learned that there may not be a God
And that everyone has there quirky little flaws
. But flaws are perfect to work with cause that's what's unique. Just speak the words though they come out bleak. Honesty filled with lies are more common than you think. But there is no truth, only what you live and see.
Alone midst my wayward thoughts, upon the caravel of agony
A storm among the twisted seas with wrath had drew upon me
Fastened between my linen sheets which purpose served me dryly
I shiver in the heartless night waiting for death to crawl upon thee
My wishes ever poisonous with malicious intent meant only to beseech you
To return as a creature of the night, but in spite the knife, the knife!
The one which impales with strife upon the meaning of fight
The weapon of an imp suddenly is thrust upon me meant to take a life!
But could I simply take this man, who's family awaits back in our mother land
Yet here he rests in sweet slumber and I must fear not to linger
Or be caught in the act of murder, my conscious flees me, my body violently disagrees
Is something so vital as this my right? But the choice is mine in hindsight
Before the curtains of the night, draw back and release the hellish light
Upon my skin revealing my plight, leaving me in clear sight
It is truly judgement I fear, from the devilish eyes of the venire
Ignorance flees, all is clear, the right direction, the path appears
For now at the end of the pole, looking thousands of feet below
I see a shadow of a man, and I know I am the one to go
I take my life.
Maybe it's because of all the lies,
Or maybe because of the ones I despise,
But sometimes I think it's about you,
But I'm not sure; I've got no clue
Maybe it's you,
From my point of view,
Never will you face rejection
The way your dimples are only on one cheek,
The way you laughed that day by the creek,
The way you held my hand trigging sparks,
The way you looked at me at the park
I don't know why you make me feel stupid,
Like I've been played by the Cupid,
I don't care anymore on why this is,
For I'd like to stay like this.
you scare me.
not like elliot scared me -
he was frightening because of the sweetness of his smile
you are frightening
because you are a sweetness that lies
the way you laugh,
call me silly pet names
puts a bad taste in my mouth
a sick feeling in my stomach
you are a wolf
it's been almost three years
since you sunk your teeth into me
i came close to forgetting
until i found an old conversation
started second guessing
even though i had made a note
"never let yourself again,
and now, once more
the lamb has walked into
the lions den
do you know a place
where the birds are humming a lullaby
where the sunlight peeks around your windows
where the daisies are blooming?
that's the place where I'll always miss you
do you know a place
where the waves are refusing
to stop kissing the shoreline
where the sun is slowly drifting down
illuminating the water with shimmers of gold
where the clouds are beginning to disappear
and the shadow starts to hide slowly in the horizon?
that's the place where I'll always remember you
do you know a place
where the beautiful constellations are hanging
in the midnight sky
where the starlight is shining so bright
where the wind is sweeping all your pain?
that's the place where I'll always wait for you
do you know a place
where the brown leaves are falling
where they're feeling hopeless
and merging with the ground
where the trees are giving up
and let the snowflakes tear down
from the pale sky
where the sunshine starts to come back again
and brush the color of the green leaves
until it grows and blossoms again?
that's the place where I'll always love you
Venus was back to her wicked tricks; I never planned for the way you stole the breath from my lungs, but kept me begging for more. Or what about the beauty in your words? The Goddess of love and beauty could never compare to the way you once made me feel.
I bet Zeus had never thrown a lightening bolt as shocking as the way it felt when you first held my hand. I bet every lover he ever had never quite made him feel as complete as you could make me feel.
But there you were, and like Hephaestus you built me a stable castle for every pulse of my heart. I never felt so safe in such a small room, but now the walls close in and even Vulcan's fire can't match the heat from your embrace.
You were also Mercury, and your quick feet made me trip far faster than it should have. I just wanted to keep up, but our messages must have been left behind and now Cupid's arrows don't quite work like they did when we were young.
I felt like Tantalus when you let the vulture of your mind rip apart my stomach and leave me in sections on the rug. You were the food held just out of my reach and you were the waters I drowned deeper and deeper into, day in and day out.
You managed to take
the breath right from my chest.
As if you stole my desire to live.
My lungs forgot how to inflate
when you weren't there
to guide my veins and
beat out the steady rhythm
that made my life.
So this is drowning.
This is gasping for air.
This is sucking in the tiny
pieces scattered in the aftermath.
But you never really forget
how to inhale, you only wish
you could. Because the oxygen
makes me dizzy with memories.
Freckles smattered on cheekbones.
A smile that wasn't for me.
Hands caressing spines.
Greedy bruises along my thighs.
The first words you spoke.
The silence you used to say goodbye.
It's funny how the things that keep
you alive, make you wish they didn't.
Most nightmares involve a shooting or a some kind of realistic event. My nightmare is living a life where I'm barley floating, the anchor to my ship never sunk. The shackles on my wrist prevent me from my best and tell me I'll never be good enough. This man with a suit tells me I will never get there, my life will be full of lies and torment. My nightmare shows my mother dying a slow and painful death, the feeling is watching a beautiful flower try to blossom but can never find the sun. I'm trapped in these white walls that scream of the hatred words that fill my mind with the thought of never waking. These nightmares are the same, they never stop and I never seem to wake up.
You say “gross” but I see yum
Even when you feel undone
You will never be tasteless to me
My dear, you add so much flavor you see,
Sugar and spice, those things can be nice
But you are more, nothing else will suffice
After tasting your infectious personality
Nothing else tastes of such quality
You glowing, vibrant, radiant heart
What better place to start?
Adds flavor, and color to my life too
I hope you know, I hope you see it true
Your lovely eyes that sparkle and gleam
So pretty, nothing ever as nice will be seen
Your little nose, cuter than any button
[ignore this line, nothing rhymes with button]
Your gently mouth; your lush lips
That joyful smile, when the corner tips
Just slightly up, stretching, reaching
All this to say, my dear sweet Darling,
Even when you feel it to be
You say “gross” but I see yum
Even when you feel undone
As her blonde hair twirls into the sun
As he spins her, her dress looks like a kaleidoscope
They dance as he strokes her face
This love is not easy to find
There seems to be no sounds
On the wings to set sail
I want to collect a future for you and I
Through continents and back home
When shifting winds grind at our core
Infecting our love but rage we leave alone
Like cracks in a sidewalk we all have flaws
As the years move on our backbone begins to descend
We still make love, but with the sounds of our voice
We smile at one another, daydreaming about the past
We're growing older as our eyes become cloudy
Our memories parted ways
You looked so heavenly that morning
I became fearful without you
You're the lace of a golden summer
The stillness in the sea, weary and forlorn
I take comfort in knowing that we cherished every day
The steps that we took through changing times
We were together, I don't regret a single day
Imagine if i was given a moment
just one moment
a slice from my past
i would keep it close to my heart
would never vanish
i'd buy a safe in my heart abode
put it there under lock and key
i could open it whenever i wanted
I would choose a time of the happiness we shared
laughter that warmed our hearts
choose a time that tested all of me for you
through everything wev'e been through
a moment of close companionship
moments of muse,
moments of worst distractions
moments of you
moments that would lift my spirit by your smile
of comfort and peace
drawn by our imperfections
moments of tears
tears of joy
beauty and innocence
just a moment
is all i ask for
id give anything for a moment of you
a moment with you
i refuse to forget your smile, your taste, your smell
a moment when i risked everything for you
If i could have one moment
a slice from my past
it will be the days i laid with you
days we kissed and longed hugs
days we enjoyed the sunset and fireworks
days of rain and days of sun
days of thunder and days of lightining
cuddled in each others arm underneath the blanket
days of diamond dust that sprinkled
days of moments that kindled our love
days lost in moments
Sometimes there’s this emptiness in the soul
With which the saddest songs would not heal
And the soft kisses of tissues would not soothe
The burns of the acidic tears
Something in there
Cannot be resurrected
With a thousand voltage defibrillator
Most of the time,
the rotting flesh is still alive
The heart still beats
The EKG device monitoring
Each stubborn peak and trough
In this blind bleakness,
There is still a small spark
An iridescent bubble that refuses to be burst
And with quiet determination,
There is a defiance to live
This small act of defiance
Is the greatest courage of all
A Forever Love That Grows
The day you first came in my life
I became that someone new
You showed an inner beauty
And a love that was so true
Now a part of me forever
Inside my inner soul
You touched my heart with kindness
And made my life more whole
From that time when first our eyes did meet
And I know forevermore
I will feel the same inside my heart
As that day when you were born
You came into the world so pure
And changed me, this I know
You gave to me a forever love
A forever love that grows
I dared to whisper aloud, two of the priceless items I wanted; you heard me.
First on my list was getting a once upon a time, adored father and nice guy,
to hear me and know t'was always made known to our sons, he loves them.
I thank you for opening his heart towards greater acceptance and that he
will always and forever honor the existence of the unwritten and binding
contract which undeniably states, in regards to our children, who are minors:
"When you become a parent, it's imperative and mandatory, at all times,
what's in the best interest of children, is to be placed far above your own."
The second item was asking you to ask The Mother of Nature to melt the snow.
I'm very happy that my world warmed a bit and less slippery were our roads.
Signed with love and continuing hopes that never the need will arise again,
to hit my hard working and clever ex who was and is working hard at being
a great dad, over the head with my own style of bricks; aka "my words"!
have changed now
years later and i have these
violent, tender things
my pale, thick
legs and bruised arms
and the hollows under
my eyes are fighting
a vicious war against
the desperate, wide-eyed
pleadings of my head.
these desperate, cheering lavender flowers.
petals sprout from your fingertips
and they move across my body
in waves of longing and desire
bright blooming in the cold hollows
between my bones
where light has never shone
the way sparks fly from your
eyes sets me aflame from the
sweat of my hair, to the
crooked edges of my fingernails to the
soft sinew of my calves
you’ve created a world anew
in between the
whispers of my fears and insecurities
I'm not the only lying bitch
How many times did you tell me one thing
But you meant another
You're a manipulative witch
Using people for your own benefit
It's taken a while
But I've finally woken up
You're just a stupid phase
I mean, how could I possibly love someone
I've never met or even really spoken to
How could I love someone
That has such a vindictive heart
At least I'm remorseful for my actions
But in you there's no ounce
Of empathy, sympathy, or even kindness
At least not any that I've seen
I'm the one who is genuine
I'm the one who cared
I'm the one who loved
So am I the liar?
Or are you?
[allow] me to lick the Newness:
off your face,
away from the yapping white noise in the distance,
out of the infant smile you shed.
Lets dance the color of welded [souls]
all you who fracture under [the heavy mass
of] my emerging grin, cast the [humanity]
from your leaden chins
lets [radiate beyond our stiff] elderly shells-
stretch to the most intricate composition
of every genre of pebble [person]
Don’t stop there!
[pass] pockets of serendipity to the greyest nimbus,
the slightest twitch of grass,
the [breath] of soil.
why must we comfort Zones?
I will murder your plush practiced demeanor
to [nurse] your pallid glimmers
of certified [You].
I love how good I am at driving in the snow. It's like second nature. Skiing with 2,000 lbs. The headlamps hit snow devil whirl winds and the water crystal's light up in their obviously belligerent dance of rancorous cold. The lungs wince in remembering the soul stealing gusts that bruised me while waiting for the bus to go to school. Every yard on the block is scathed to a thin perfect sheen where snow settles in the drive ways and streets. Winters gentle reminder that the home is sweet and the world outside is raw and dangerous.
I was so worried about how the hellish wind of Lehi, Utah would bleed me this year. Leave me more exposed but the heart calloused just in time to seek deeper truths and guide my soul to a sober path.
We all gave thanks recently, letting the tryptophan calm our racing hearts and heal our mood. Spending much needed time with the beautiful families we call our own. My sisters are more then just glue that holds us all together but key stones. Do mother's ever really know?
Now with thanks on mind and heart, forgiveness and apologies weigh in. So lucky to be alive, and so lucky to have all that we're given, "this chance to be alive and breathing." What have we taken for granted? What people have we unknowingly or knowingly abused?
I have to say I'm sorry again. Not the first and hardly will be the last. My beautiful friend just know it had nothing to do with you. I want to pull away but it would be a lie to say that isn't one of the hardest things to do. Despite what underlying emotions have been persistent in me and despite whatever I feel or felt in a moment your timeless friendship means more then ever. So I say I'm sorry, and with sincerity I ask for your forgiveness.
P.S. Sorry to always be so vague and poetic all the time. My mind doesn't think any other way.
She worries about the way she looks in the morning
Is she too fat?
Does she have on enough make up so no one can see the "ugly"?
Is her hair perfect?
Do her clothes look nice?
Will she ever get a boy that likes her for who she is?
She tries so hard to look her best even though inside she's just a mess
And when she comes to school her friends will say she looks good
She wonders what they would say without all of this on her
And when she gets home, she takes it all off
Crying at the way she looks
She's just a girl trying to fit in
She's one of the girls who can't see them selves as pretty unless they look fake
She's just a girl who can't be herself
When she looks absolutely beautiful with just her
He gets teased
Maybe because he doesn't dress like them
He doesn't talk like them
He doesn't do the things boys do
He doesn't break girls hearts because he's never had one
Those girls don't like guys like him
because he is different
He is quiet
He keeps to himself
He wants to shout but he's afraid he will be judged
When he is just being more hurt by not talking
He goes home and thinks about ending it all
But is too scared
So he keeps pushing forward and doesn't give a damn
Even though inside his body is rotting and he has a pain in his chest
He doesn't cry, he screams
And then he closes up again
He just wants to pretend
What a perfect life would be without all this
So they close their eyes and dream about the perfect life.
How gloomy a day such as this
with obscure clouds that hang in the air
paying no attention to the sun that
wants to peek its head through.
What dense, opaque weather
filling up the atmosphere like a
laddle filling up a bowl
of grey, creamy soup.
It must taste disgusting.
May be I love you.
Or maybe I just love the idea,
Of pressing hard into you,
On cold nights,
When the room’s dark,
and all you can see,
is our panting and labored breathe.
The stink of sweat and clenched fists.
Or maybe I just love the idea,
of drunken mistakes,
on unmade beds,
when whole worlds on fire,
and all you can smell,
is the sweet pitch and sap of smoldering clothes .
The stink of sweat and clenched fists above it all.
Or maybe I just love the idea,
of old age spent alone,
on creaky porches,
when all my senses have faded,
and I can’t love anymore of this world.
Is the end always found alone, in places like this?
The stink of sweat and clenched fists above it all, fighting to the end.
Or maybe all of these things,
but then again,
maybe I love you.
There are no magic memories
Fit to fix an old man's soul,
Or time befuddled bunnies
Traipsing down a rabbit hole.
There is no pot of gold, I'm told,
At the rainbow's end.
Nor an Alice fool enough to call
The Queen of Hearts her friend.
There is no quest for Camelot
Unsinged by writer's block.
Or a Pan within a labyrinth
Dispensing magic chalk.
There are no Gnomes, no spirit keys,
No dragon wars, no trees that sneeze,
No roads paved in that yellow brick,
No fairies darting low and quick
Through enchanted dandelion seas
Alongside the Everbetter Bees.
There are no mountains draped in gold,
Nor pixie dust bright as the stars.
No armored bears to fight the cold
Just to gain some battle scars.
There is no cheese upon the moon,
No mermaids deep in a lagoon,
Or pirates haunting Neverland,
Nor flying carpets o'er sea and sand.
No segacious wizards wise and fair,
No time-traveling rocking chair
Until that wild winding wind we share
Showers imagination here and there,
Up, up high and down below,
In places gently capped with snow,
Where every wiley fuss will know
All the greatest memories go.
There are no wonders left to see
Until somebody sets them free.
And that's where Carroll inspires me,
And I get so lost in young Barrie.
Where one rides a magic alligator,
Dahl flies in his glass elevator.
Where Genie's kindly grant a new wish,
Geisel shares his "one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish,"
To my Muse, this is the grandest sight,
And why I am compelled to write.
Copyright © 2013 Richard D. Remler
"I can believe anything provided it is incredible."
~ Oscar Wilde
oh beautiful man
your mind, god, your mind
i bask in it's shine
i read your words
i love every side of you
i love you in your silence
in your screaming too
i can't explain the draw
the knowledge that i have
you are the master weaver
i wish to be fiber in your hands
how can it be you've captured me
true, i'll follow you eternally
inside me is a raging sea
my heart it's cried an ocean
no one can cherish you as i do
no one will honor and obey
no one will hold a torch as brightly
no one can appreciate your decay
my darling you will never know
what sweet torture i endure
how many times a day i think of you
i pray your name
my heart, it's cried an ocean
i'll sail away
into your arms
i'll proudly stay
you'll finally see why i say
my heart, it's cried an ocean
I would tell you I can't go to bed because
hell is loving you in my sleep and
waking up alone
and that i'd rather never sleep again
than to live through that
I would tell you that every time I open my mouth
I want you to shut it
I would tell you that you have
the kind of glance that could crack
and make it feel
And I know it sounds cliché but
your breath is the water that floods
into the roots of my stomach and grows
the daisies being kissed
back into you
If I had a lover I would call these
If I had a lover I would think of this
infection in my head
as "you're the one I can't live without"
If I had a lover I would tell you
doesn't actually make me sick
And if I had a lover
I would need to learn not to kill myself
in the process
But you might not be.
That's what you think,
again and again in your head
like a DEADLINE
in capital letters.
When the race is over
you keep sprinting,
another lap, why not,
more in the tank.
Even if it pulses red,
keep on, keep on.
There is no ovation in the end,
just a shattered guy
walking home come spring.
knows you better than you.
It is happening again.
This road won't stop,
a stream of confectionery,
scoff the lot now.
It's been written before
in pages turned beige,
in papers gone old.
Do you mind? Do you hell.
Go ahead, roll the ball,
throw the dart.
I know who you are.
I know what you do.
A circle in a circle
in a circle.
I'd prevent you
but you're already
tumbling down those stairs.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time (more personal than usual), and the follow-up to 'December The Second.'
My weakness is strength
Passion flooding my veins
You'll never contain me
not even with chains
I'm fueled by madness
By anger and grief
Don't tell me just what I should do
I'll always be Commander in Chief
My scars they have hardened
They're my armor and shield
And now I have healed
You won't take me down
I'm playing the field
It is rare to have your feelings be so greatly impacted
By a single person that you have only begun to know
But you feel like you have known forever
Like two souls have crossed paths in time
But have finally met in person
I fear it but girl I'm falling
I'm swimming in the baby blue of your eyes
Feeling the power of your heartbeat
Held so close to mind
But I still fear the fall
So much that I resist it
Because I've fallen before and the landing hurts
And still hurts me now
As I look into your soul
And know that I can't give you everything
Because it has already been given
But fear is petty in the face of love
So tell me now before you miss your chance
Will you take my hand
And forget the fall
And just dive in together?
Also as an update, I have a few works in a planning stage and I have a poem currently being drafted. Hang around and it'll be out soon. Thanks for the support y'all as I'm nearing my 20,000th read!!!
Winds whipping certainties into,
Spinning around every drop of thought she
This turmoil, the only survival she's ever known,
Keeps her in the air, suspended, ambiguous, beautiful or terrifying?
So she shakes and cries in fear,
Of the day she stops spinning.
Surrounded by biting cold fronts,
Pushed around by sparks of warm relief,
She's a hot mess, sticky, humid, and alive with electric charge.
Her pleas bellowed into thunder,
Static shock breaking her voice,
Into something massively engulfing.
The kind of sound that makes a grown man feel small.
You can feel her coming from miles away.
She knows the weight of her presence better than anyone.
So lonely and heavy is her grief,
So bright and menacing is her capability.
Ironically, just the right balance of
Swiftly reacting, turning, changing her,
Into this rain ridden,
Ferociously complex storm system,
Stealing the heat she can,
Clinging to any energy she once drew on.
Never releasing her festerings.
Standing above a world she cannot touch,
You are not god, you are not my Lord;
You are a beast that corrupts my soul;
I find peace not, when I pray in thee;
You feast on my soul--you pain and hurt me.
You are a fiend, just like all my friends;
You are tied to an awkward time and space.
And is your soul as sharp as your false prayers?
I can find words that shall hear me better.
You are no safety, nor any assurance;
I hate your speech--within your cold bible;
You are not worthy of love, nor any true spirit;
You are a mere space no sane souls can ever meet.
I used to know, in Heaven, another Lord;
But my faith was marred, it was distorted.
This Lord of mine was kind and simple;
His heart was All-Resilient and Humble.
My Lord was gone in one sway of smoke;
As none wanted to hear more from me.
I was strong in faith--and t'is was no joke;
But none would look, and pushed Him fast away.
Ah, my Lord, in whom I used to hear salvation;
And not grief like this which burns my heart.
I found within me--a great deal of admiration;
But none would believe, and He was made gone.
I knew another, in more mature years;
But He was as crude as a grizzly bear.
With His soulless heart, he tore my faith up;
'Till my heart withered, and nothing remained.
He preached but the beauty of wealth;
And to forge maturity on this dire soil;
He turned one another an enemy;
He played with fate, as if ‘twas His doll.
I was in deep grief, I was in bare crises;
I believed not the sun sets and the moon rises.
Ah, Lord, and after I lost thee even more;
I roamed sightlessly like none before.
And now I’th been forced back to thee;
Art thou still hungry, or art thou satisfied?
Haven’t thou sent me enough agony;
When shall thou finally give up?
Now I hath been cramped back to thee;
Art thou still angry--doth thou want to kill me?
Thou explaineth never--why I taketh my breath;
Thou reasoneth never--what is in life after death.
For I believe triumphs are not for those who sin;
For I believe prayers are not done by the mean.
For I believe in life there is no such scarcity;
For I believe we are united by wordless destiny.
For I believe He is One; and is loved freely;
For I believe He loves back, with relentless mercy;
For I believe He is the One, and owneth no partner;
For I believe He is who rules, and not another.
For I believe none was made crucified;
For I believe He is alive, and shall never die;
For I believe such stories are all but a lie;
For He is who gives, and breathes sight to the eye.
For I believe the cross is no glory;
For I believe such is a vain myth;
For I believe He is absolute;
For I believe He is the only Truth.
And about this I can lie no more;
Nor stand back as I did before.
He is who holds my mortal hands;
He who cares better than my friends.
Still I am lost, I am lost in thee;
For thou hath betrayed my most questions.
For thou hath no words--nor poetry in me;
For thou ignore--and neglect me in disambiguation.
And I hate thee, I hate thee too much;
Thou hath blinded me and led me astray.
Thou giveth room but to desire and lust;
Thou lead my soul to ultimate decay.
Thou regard not shyness and virginity;
Thou accept not humble words and pure sympathy.
Thou encourage day and night ecstasy;
Thou disfigure us by mock forgiveness.
Thou told us to be unjust and sin;
Thou told us to pursue and be mean;
Thou loveth pleasure, and left me unsure;
Thou gave me disease, but showed me no cure.
Now I’th realised that my God is Him;
He who attends my day and night dreams.
I care not what thy devils may say;
I shall care for Him only--all through the night and day.
For the Lord who leads and forgives;
For the Lord who dies not and shall live;
For the Lord whose Throne is up high;
Veiled perfectly by the blue midnight sky.
For the Lord who creates life and death;
For the Lord who gives mouths and breath.
For the Lord who is One and only;
For the Lord who is sole and fair.
Then I can pray with my whole sane heart;
And rest my minds from this lifelong war;
My Lord is One who lets my blood flow;
Years back, presently, the day after tomorrow.
And by Him I shall remain prudent;
Though He is far and farther and invisible.
I shall long for His Paradise and Heaven;
One for the kind hearts; for the devoted and humble.
Then I shall craft even more poetry;
A poem for my Lord’s tremendous delights;
I shall make it warm and lively;
And tell tales of future years in Paradise.
And I shall turn back to Your prayers, God;
After years and years of fraying Thee alone.
Now I shall come back to my untainted faith;
Please hesitate not, nor make me need to wait.
For in You only doth I find my doors;
And answers to my once lonely heart;
I cannot lie back, I cannot lie no more;
That I and Thee can never stay apart.
And my faith will be like those stern winds;
They can be felt, while remain unseen;
Wish me a welcome, and not a farewell;
Keep me safe from Thy spells of hell.
And let me remain in my bows;
As I shout my praise, as my head goes low.
And let me remain where I am;
To cite Thy praise, say Thy Holy Name.
i'm currently laying in my bed with tears in my eyes for the first time in as long as i can remember. this feeling is far too familiar, and i didn't miss it at all. it feels like one of those old friends you didn't mind not seeing anymore, you just sort of accepted their absence. although this isn't a friend; it never has been nor will it ever be. it's a foe, and alter ego, and as wretched as it is to say, it's truly my former self. i've heard countless times the phrase "the hardest thing to endure is watch the one you love, love someone else", but there is a bit of deceit behind it. in my personal opinion, the hardest thing to endure isn't having the one you love, love someone else, but just simply knowing they don't love you back. any person could possess their heart, while at the same time, they posses yours. it's a dreadful feeling, really. it's consuming, and with the consumption comes emptiness. the emptiness is what sits in the pit of your stomach. it's a contradiction, i guess you could say. lately i've become nothing but a contradiction. in the words of an anonymous novelist, a "fatal contradiction", which frightens be down below the contradictory emptiness in the put of my stomach, goes through my blue veins, creeps into my fingertips, which act as puppets by making their way up to their controller, beginning to claw at their puppeteer to make the thoughts stop.
Why is it that winter
portrays darkness, a death upon the Earth?
Sorrow, Mourning, and Melancholy
But if only we could see
Microscopic are these flakes that fall
so gently and not one of them alike
You catch one in your hand
delicate, it melts
Is that what leaves you feeling sad?
Just think, together each of these snowflakes
Blanket the earth and caress branches of trees that have no leaves left to bare;
they sink into the earth and into our bones
Is that what leaves your feelings cold?
Looking out our warm houses we see the sparkling white
We hear not but a sound
All is at peace. It is silent.
Is that what leaves you lonely?
This desolate, lovely new place the earth has been crested with
Soft but cold to the touch, beautiful but vacant
Distinct snowflakes to blame.
What feeling are you left with then?
She walks down the hallway with dark-tinted sunglasses but it’s 9 pm and she’s late for her night class. You know this because you're in the same class and you’re also late but the difference is your knees keep kissing the floor from trying to run with your soaked shoes stomping on the quiet hall of your school. Her back is facing you but you can almost make out her side-view. You see a cigarette dangling on her lips. She exhales and drops the stick on the floor, her boots making contact with the ashes to disintegrate it further. She finally turns around and you stare at her wondering how someone could be so calm and collected. She took off her glasses and stared at you, shaking her hair to rid the little droplets of rain that made a home in the black silky strings attached to her scalp. Your palms sweat and you grow confused. You see nothing in the orbs reaching a hand out to yours and suddenly you’re catapulted back to the now and you’re staring at a reflection of yourself in the girl’s bathroom after making an excuse to your professor about how you’re feeling sick but really, you’re sick of the sharp nails scraping the board doing nothing to teach you algebra or...what class were you taking? You can’t stay there. You feel like your skull is about to break. The bag under your eyes feel heavy and they’re screaming at you that they can’t carry your eyes any longer. You ignore them. Because your chest is saying the same thing about your heart. You wonder how you got to the point where your brain stopped sending out your conscience to tell you that vodka is not gonna wipe out your memory and that blades were meant to tear other things, not your skin. Where your angel and your devil fall off your shoulder from trying to shake off all your feelings and they stopped trying to get back up there and whisper to your ear. The devil wins anyway. And he knows it. You know it. (So why did you let it happen?) You stare at the mirror carefully and regard the girl with the pale skin, empty vortex in the shape of eyes and try to reach out your hands inside to see if you can uncover something but you notice your fingers disappearing in front of you and you can’t feel your arms. In fact, you can’t feel the rest of your body. You are simply a husk of man, now. An apparition that looked like the girl after self-destruction that one night which led to an unbreakable habit. The Future aches for the Present to switch places because it knows more a lot about what's going to happen but you also know that your mistakes are gonna catch up with you sooner or later so you stand back and watch the Present detonate on the bathroom floor.
The tiles are cold and you feel your limbs going weaker. The walls are closing in on you and you wonder if they came to keep you company. You want some company. Your eyelids is falling asleep and the last you see is a closed door. You liked that door. It didn't give way to strangers tonight. You try to listen to your heartbeat but the silence is screaming too loud. You plead for it to go away but it stays. And you stay. Laying on the bathroom floor, you stayed. Everyone else resumed what they were doing and you stayed on the bathroom floor. You stayed.
I can't string words together
and make beautiful phrases
they way you do
I'm not the best at conveying my feelings
and I especially suck at
turning them into understandable
text on paper
but I just want you to know
that you are what I think of
on a quiet Thursday afternoon
when I'm with my friends
and thinking about you
instead of laughing at the jokes
you are on my mind
even when it is 12 a.m. on a Sunday night
and I have a shitload of work to do
but I can't because I want to keep talking to you
you are constantly
on my mind
you are on my mind right now
as I try to piece these words together
in hopes that maybe you'll read this
and that you'll get a clue
because you bring to life the throbbing pain
and the five year old impatience
when it's been a day
and I haven't heard from you
because I can't stop
stop thinking about you
and it hurts
and I hope that you
I didn't bother to fix up anything because this was typed up as my emotions were overflowing and I want to keep it that way.
And I am really bad at titles.
You left me, untitled and unsafe.
I hope you can forgive me.
I never will.
There have been ten people like you that I have tried to help.
I forgive you.
At first, I hated you.
We were so close.
You just left me. All alone.
I know you never meant to hurt me. You thought it was for the best.
What you don't know is that every time you dragged that blade across your wrist you dragged it across mine too.
Your plague has pained so many.
What you don't realize,
Maybe you do now...
I don't know...
What you didn't realize is that when you killed yourself, you took part of me with you.
Each night I relive that moment.
The moment you hung us,
feet dangling just inches above the ground,
we feel weightless,
it's really the weight being ripped away from our shoulders.
The moment when we swallowed a handful of those brightly colored tablets.
Bodies convulsing as we reject them.
The brain still fights to remain.
I relive that moment when we put that barrel in our mouths.
Our brains, our emotions, our passion.
Across the walls, floor and bed.
The hole in our ceiling remains unpatched because nobody can fix the pain that that hole shows.
You were right...there.
I could feel you leave.
I could feel a part of me ripped away from me like a newborn from the mothers arms.
You never really left, though, did you?
You just dropped out.
My friends, you stand with me today as if it were still our last.
My arms reach out to show you how much I've missed you.
But they can't.
Every slice across my veins, every drop of blood is a tribute to you.
Maybe that's how I want to tell you that I'm sorry.
I still see you here.
I see you in my dreams,
my eyelids like curtains on this very stage.
I see you on my arms.
I'm sorry that I couldn't help you.
I'm sorry for everything.
I am not who I used to be now.
You have taught me morals.
You have taught me to love like no tomorrow.
You have taught me to love myself because that's your last surviving vessel.
I was meant to live in this constant pain.
Otherwise I would have died the eight times that I had tried.
I tried your method of problem solving.
You do something...
Something that I never could.
You keep me alive when all I ever wanted was to be with all of you.
My body aches from the parts that you stole away.
My head to replace yours.
Shattered across infinity.
My neck to hold it up.
It beats for you.
I have died ten times over.
I am pieced back together as a rag doll is.
None of this was ever your fault though.
I didn't stop you when I needed to.
I blame myself for the deaths of ten people.
I wasn't their reason
I didn't kill them.
I just didn't...
I am alive & just barely;
my throat is closing off
with hard, precious cancer eggs
tucked safely where my tonsils
are supposed to sit.
my fingernails this lovely
shade of purple, a deeply
blueish tint influencing them
almost indigo. They tattle,
silently proclaim my complacent
malnutrition. the moons of my manicure
have sunk backwards, eve
returns to dusk, my favorite
time of day, where the quiet
begins, the candle may be lit,
& the eyes I always feel on me
are at least shadowed from my vision.
the coffee is so black
pulsing through my shrunken veins
that my tears are caffeinated.
even when I don't hold a cigarette,
I see the smoke under my breath.
my hands & feet are always cold,
my muscles tremble & I swoon
when we try to stand strong together.
there is turmoil
in the fissures of the grey matter.
well? tell me! does it really matter?
my bones ache
my face breaks
oh, this Exist Contemplate.
my government has always
been corrupt; the city walls
are finally wearing, having
borne the onslaught for decade
& decade. oh, the Burn & Blister.
I crawl to my coffin without your permission;
Where are you, my Handsome Benediction?
"You're gambling death."
The skeleton laughed.
While shuffling card decks,
the skeleton sat across from me.
I was starting to feel uncomfortable..
No. Not uncomfortable...
Maybe the right word is trapped?
How did he even get here?
"I don't really gamble."
I admitted to the bones that configured the human skeleton sitting across from me.
He sounded too sincere.
But still he was smiling.
Still he was lingering.
And as of now, I was getting a tiny bit mad.
I just wanted this thing to leave....
"You know, if you loose, you're not only loosing this game." He hissed.
Of corse with a skeletal smile
that presented teeth such as those of a crocodile.
I watched the bones of his hand point at me through the corner of my eye as he spoke and then as the hand reached for a card.
I tried to pay closer attention to the stray strings on my sleeve
But couldn't help noticing that the crevices of his bones were filled with dust.
"Any old memories you want to reminisce?"
He said mockingly.
"you know? If you must."
He began to continue,
"Why do you look so scared?"
"You're covered in enough dust to have plenty stories for us both."
"Don't you suppose?"