Tell me your thoughts
of the deadly winter
and i'll"will say
"come under the covers with me
and follow my steps"
even though oh
my steps are faulty
i'll lead you the best way i can ohh
oh with these snowy flakes
take me away
with your -40 kisses
so we can freeze this moment time
OH OH Ohhhh
I'll tell you dear
my thoughts on the deadly winter
and you will say
"good, cause all i wanna do is sleep by your side
as the world freezes outside"
Rethinking your curiosity. You really shouldn’t have inquired
Your craving for exploration satisfied,
You’ll get what you thought you desired.
No promises that it will fulfill your expectations, or grant insight to my motivations.
The sensations will be overwhelming, you’ll yield to stimulation.
At first it’s exhilarating, emotions climbing to peak, just wait 'til you see the drop beneath.
You’re afraid. I was too. Now the fear pulls you through. Cliffs and valleys, highs and lows,
Have you begun to wonder when this ride slows?
Oh; I apologize, I should have warned, you can’t walk away from this place; this time or this space.
You can attempt to gather your things and go, most don’t survive whole. If they find the way out they leave battered and bruised, ego sore, something torn.
Now you find yourself tangled. The buckle won’t release, you’ll struggle and squirm, but you’ll soon come terms.
I’m half strangled right beside you, you didn’t know ‘til you wanted to.
See, “I’ve been in here for years. I decided to enjoy the ride. I promise it can only get better over time. Think of it as the bite of the whiskey with the sour of the lime. You’ll be drunk soon enough... I know I am.”
The loudness inside my mind
Is preventing me from going to bed
Having to sit here while the words,
Pictures, music, faces and events
Whirl through your mind like a tornado.
There's a dark cloud trapped there, constantly raining on my mood.
Through it all, I sit,
Peaceful as if in the eye of the hurricane,
I sit and let my mind eat away at me and pretend that things are still alright
And hoping someone will see that they're not
Hoping someone will notice that I'm this close...
Please grasp me,
press me to your chest.
Hush my frenzied inhalations,
I can bear this pain no longer.
Dip your fore-finger,
across the roughed wake,
of my cheek.
Blot away the trauma.
Rest your chin
dangle its weight
my head -jeering-
clutches her temples.
It flickers, clarifies.
Back and forth,
Rocking, in fragmented, jerking
motions- her underweight
figure slammed along.
Blood purges with each
maddened- hoarse gurgles
the spittle deposits at
the overhang of her lip.
Snagged in the animosity,
of gnawing, writhing inhumanity.
TASTE IT rusted copper
An ashing purple, crusty
and running over engorged rims
of milky cocoa.
Darling, tip out your tongue,
lap up the shrivels
of failed organs and deprived marrow.
Pulse, with the steady
throb of an aching yawn.
Chilled moisture scoffs-
the nape of your neck.
Rocking back and forth,
Not good enough.
impales your upper thigh.
let him hear
Make it STOP
Am I bad at making sentences that are? Palindromes… are that: Sentences making at bad.
Importantly, however, words not letters are what go backwards and forwards in just this poem. This just in: forwards and backwards. Go! What? Are letters not words? However importantly...
It is that thing beckoning us to come away, far from things other than different parts inside us,
leading us with its inspiration to places within ourselves, taking us from Earth to 1 page,
making us believe something that we don’t know. Know. Don’t we? That something. Believe us.
Making page 1: To – Earth From – us
Taking ourselves within places to inspiration.
It’s with us,
Leading us inside parts different than other things from far away.
Come to us, beckoning thing.
That is it.
you can talk but she won't listen
she is not there.
a mound of flesh built from lies, tears, excuses
sorry you had to see her go
she is not there.
her spirit floating away into eternity
a cycle of crooked smiles
she is elsewhere.
where the birds fly without wings
where flowers linger with no stems
she is elsewhere.
Stood way out there,
And ran all his fingers
Through his hair.
He took a deep breath
As the morning arose,
Smiling so wide
That it wrinkled his nose.
He saw on the horizon
A crackle of rain -
And touches of dew
Resting on his new cane.
But when Thurgood paused
And peered over his lawn,
And studied his yard
In the new light of dawn,
He kicked at his heel
Like an old Mother Hen.
And he grumbled aloud,
"Oh no, not again!"
He followed the Quiltwork
Patch Grass to the side,
Where the Fennilen Fern
And the Trugg usually hide,
Through the green, where
The collups and roses were set,
All needing a pruning he
Hadn't faced yet.
And there it was,
Still tugging the string,
That wicked and
Pimply pompous old thing.
Standing there near the hill,
Right beside an old post,
Where it could drink in the morning,
And gaze down the coast.
"Five times you've been planted,"
Said good Fenwick that day.
He was well wearied and worn.
His head almost gray.
"You did not like the corner,
Where the daffodils grow.
You did not care for the tulips,
Row upon row."
"You turned away from the Ivy
That climbs to the sea.
You are a most contentious,
And troublesome tree."
"Was the fence near the gate
Not a worthy estate?
That you had to pull free,
And run toward the sea?"
"The poplars were kind,
But you turned clear away.
I wonder just what
You are thinking today."
But the tree did not nod,
As far as Thurgood could tell.
For it could taste the sweet ocean,
And feel her waves swell.
It watched the soft moon
Drifting low in the sky,
And stretched out its branches
Ever so high.
And Thurgood shook his head,
And with an inkling of pride
Said, "Does this make you happy?"
And he smiled wide.
He turned on his heels,
And watched the soft sea.
Today there was quiet
Along this emerald key.
Her waves gently licking
The shoreline hello,
And morningtime greeting
Her usual glow.
"It is a nice view,"
He heard himself say.
As dawn gently tap-tapped
To nature's soiree.
And he grinned, "You old codger.
Have it your way.
And a good mornin' to you.
I believe this is your day."
Copyright © 2013 Richard D. Remler
"Even if I knew that tomorrow
the world would go to pieces,
I would still plant my apple tree."
I don’t want to hate you
Despise you, place you
Down there in the back of my mind
A dark and brooding place where no one but me will find
You, I don’t want to hate you
I don’t want to blame you
As the reason I have taken sadness as my lover
I don’t want to lay awake at night
Wishing evil to befall you
I don’t want stay awake at night
Having to constantly fight this feeling
I don’t want to hate your being
I don’t want to be confused
Wondering what drove you to abuse
The love I had for you
I don’t want to go again
To that dark foreboding plane
Where a horned being asked me what he can do
For me, I don’t want to even take a moment to consider
To let hatred be my Hearts leader
And yet as I sit here
I feel it boiling, slowly soiling my soul
Painting it black, turning into a black hole
Sucking, taking devouring me whole
It eats me, taking away my bliss from me
And so I am left alone
To again trek across this sea of emotion
Knowing that somewhere within the water’s
A monster lurks just waiting for me to slip
A single moment a like a whip
Coiled and ready it will nip me
And take me, I don’t want to hate you
In the end you we all must do what we have to
But I can never again love you.
and if I cry
will you kiss
Could it be worse? - fix you
Jaylin was scared and detrimental -
with runaway scars,
his heavy breathing,
and the wolves chasing such a forgotten soul.
"I'm more afraid of death then before,
more afraid of the teeth ripping through my skull,
I have to end this dream.",
He said screaming, knowing it was but of no dream.
Is the end just above the harassing, or still just a mere speck waiting to be seen.
he screamed again, as the snow touched his face
- wishing his fellow friends could hear.
the mindless memories all over his body warned him.
It warned him he was still wanted by them.
Still yearned by the ones of which owned the forest.
"Jaylin, run! Run now!"
this wasn't his mind, but the mysteries' wind that ran next to him.
He heard it, but didn't know what it said until he saw them -
barking, running and almost screaming.
Jaylin stopped to listen to this screaming,
as if the screaming was the sound of a thousand ghosts that the Wolves killed.
Hearing all this he knew he wasn't the first.
"How could the wind know?,
Why are there some many voices in my head!?,
I don't want to be trapped like the other lost and forgotten souls!,
I don't want to be screaming in endless time of death !",
what was wished for was soon put away in the hollow sound of the universe.
they found him.
and the taste of death
where all things felt when Jaylin was bitten.
Bitten by The Wolves.