All poems found containing the word hold
Quentin Briscoe "thank you money for hold me down.."

You find a new way to make it socially acceptable
What you're doing to me..
So that you we just see it as how it is..
so let me make it easy..  
Let me just bend over for you world...
Just like my blood before
Because you keep forcing yourself upon me..
Fucking me...Fucking me....
so rough like hardcore brazzers...
Like a flick on Punishtube...
With no lube...
thank you money for hold me down..
while you watch big brother
have his way...
maybe if I was a woman I could reproduce..
But My dick just goes lump so fast...
while life repeatedly fucks me in the ass...

Joanne Fuda "hold the child with ease feel feel the softn"

open up your window let the winds of change come forth in this whirlwind of a birth
feel the labour pains even though it hurts, let those in chains be free let them be
hold the child with ease feel feel the softness of the breeze

Williamsji Maveli "Hold me if you can;"


I am not in your own image;
Neither as black nor white.
I am not in your shadow;
Neither as sun nor moon.
I am not in your shape;
Neither smooth nor sharp.
I am your ocean wave,
Hold me if you can;
Before I become the cry
between your breast and lip.
I am your blade,
hold me if you can;
Before I cut off the flesh,
between your mind and body.
I am your salt;
Hold me if you can;
Before I taste it on your shapes.
I am your blood;
Hold me if you can;
Before I pour it on your wounds

BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
williamsji@yahoo.com
www.williamsji.com
www.williamsgeorge.com
www.williamsmaveli.com

Revelations of Bluffed Words-Poem Page 12
(All poems in this series are, translations from Malayalam, originally written in author’s mother-tongue, “Malayalam’”, the language of Kerala, in South India.)  
BY WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
williamsji@yahoo.com
www.williamsji.com
Bradley Yencer "tight and I left you too much slack to hold on to."

I am cold. I am alone. I am empty. It wasn’t always like this. You see-
That one day you brought me a bouquet of flowers but I didn’t even noticed them sitting next to me.
That one day you decided to wrap my hand with the warmth of yours but I wouldn’t return the favor.
That one day you tried to hug me tight and I left you too much slack to hold on to.
That one day you wanted someone to cry with but I didn't spare you a single drop.
That one day you finally told me how you really felt but I wouldn’t listen to your words anymore.
That one day you decided to give me our first real kiss but my heart just wasn't in it.
That one day, was one day too late for me because-
That one day is actually today, and today I am cold. I am alone. I am empty.
But you see it wasn’t always like this . . .

Yesterday I would have shared my entire world if you'd have let me but today, today I am dead.

Nik Krutilla "I hold onto this key,"

I hold onto this key,
Not worth more than a dime.
Lay down your amour honey,
Here next to mine.

Lay down your head,
Forget for a while.
Bare out your fears,
They've been walking for miles.  

The memories seem to sneak up,
And boldly corner you.
You're seeing them backwards,
They're running you through.

Just whisper to me your frail hopes,
Show me the bones of your desires.
That stalking fog will vanish,
From this doorway of fire.

It'll be simple for us,
In the cool dawn of the morning.
This is not quite the beginning,
Of a never ending story.


©NDHK

Nik Krutilla "It wasn't trying to hold me back."

There is this space that exists inside.
In between my ribs and just under my heart.
It's not in a place to constantly remind me of its presence there.
But it does get nudged from time to time.
It holds onto things I've tried to rise above, to let go of...
But never fully doing so.

Things like negativity and doubt and stubbornness...
Like self esteem bruising childhood judgements.
Like bitter regret of missing out on "I love you" before someone dies.
Like ignorant teenage decisions there was no reason to be making.
Like that secret you told and the one you promised to keep.
Like dutifully cleaning up after destruction since it was easier than starting over new.
Like the coltish grace of learning to be a woman without one.
Like leading a child with having no direction of your own.
Like taking that last piece.
Like hoping karma takes over.
Like waiting for a sign before walking away from toxic people.
Like throwing your heart out there with only faith and hope to be its wings.
Like innate fear of being alright with who you truly are.
Like disappointment for taking all these years to figure yourself out.

Those are some things that rattle around on a quiet and calm night.
On a night that finally arrives after strenuous days bleeding together...
They ghost in and remind you they're still there.
It used to terrorize the still moments when that happened.
No control over the flood of images and empathy associated with each and every reminder.  
I thought it was in times like that, when drowning with the sorrows of yesterday was just as easy as an exhale.

But I was wrong...
I was mislead in my own thoughts.
Because when I was tapped on the shoulder by history.
It wasn't trying to hold me back.
It wasn't intending to maim my conscious.
I believe in fact, it just simply wanted to show progress.
To show the "then", compared to the "now"
How every piece of who I am today was shaped and structured in part, to everything I haven't let go of yet.
How do you know when your soul is weaker than strong but mighty enough to fight?

In being made to contemplate all the wonderful and fulfilling things and parts of who we are,
We also have to give credit to the dark pieces
The events and people that have burdened and burnt but never destroyed.
Like any balance in life we acknowledge both light and shadow.
Appreciation of the good in our lives is more fluid when we have proof of the struggles we've overcome.

Be it years ago or hours,
Seeing how far you've come from that which had held you under or has trampled your spirit.
It helps enlighten bit by bit.
And a step at a time is how we all move forward into who we're meant to be.

So i think, that space that exists very close to my heart but just far enough away...
I think I'm okay with it being there.
It may hold scars in the eyes of others
But I know scars are just golden reminders;
Of that which make us stronger.
For if one has no scars, what has one conquered?



©NDHK

Nik Krutilla "to hold up the facade between"

You ran down the sidewalk
from the front porch
creating water bombs under your feet
with every patter.
Struggling to gain speed
as your summer dress
gradually became a sponge.
The thunderous mini shouts
coming from your mouth
stopped me dead.

Shamefully trying
to hold up the facade between
my expression and your heart
was agonizing.
As you made it up to the spot
my feet backed up from,
glowing desperation
could be seen in your
water well eyes.
Simultaneously stomping side to side
and tugging harshly down
my shirt you looked up
with a pleading confusion that
broke something inside me.
I couldn't give you
a straight simple explanation
for the question you kept
begging over and over to be answered.

You couldn't understand
how difficult the decision
to walk away from you that night was.
The choice
to better the one
who was to better you.
It was selfish
but in that moment I needed
to be for the right reasons
this time.
Let me tell you now though,
that you reaching up
and hanging off my neck like a pendant,
almost made me
toss the idea that I could do it
on my own and succeed,
appear believable.
I inhaled the smell of you
until I felt my lungs burn
and I held on hoping to convey
the meaning of this crisis in time
through our skin.
I couldn't give life
to the words you shouldn't of had to hear.

My time was running down
and my willpower
was getting edgy.
I knew that if I didn't
take those steps
into the unknown
I wouldn't be able to walk by your side
in all of our tomorrows.
So as you fought the untangling
of your scared limbs
and exhumed that agony smeared face
from my chest,
I breathed you in once more.
When you finally reached
a bump in the constant trill of sobs
pouring from your mouth I said,

"I love you. This is just for a little while. I will come back for you always."

I knew you hated those words
as I said them
but loved hearing me talk.
It meant that was
another minute more you had with me.
I kept up the
reassurance for the same reason.

A definitive honk
behind me proceeded the
collapse of your restraint.
Thrashing forward
with hawk like fingers
and indistinguishable words
you were held back with help.
It enraged me
to feel as if I couldn't touch you
but it was for both our benefits.
Holding onto your eyes
and the last of my control,
I grimaced a smile
that couldn't quite make it
and turned.
I rolled the window down
to get the full effect of you voice
in my head to take with me.
It would be the push
to do better,
be better.
When the driver asked
if I was ready
I said yes
while screaming never inside.

I squeezed shut my lids
and prayed I was already
back in our home
cuddled up together
on the rainy porch.
All in the matter of minutes
I felt the precious innocence
drain partly from
our life.
Thankful to the rain
for at least hiding my
swollen eyes from you.
If I could leave you
with the illusion
of strength
I hadn't earned yet.

Feeling the car pull
slower than necessary
is what did it.
My senses over powered me
as I gasped out
that horribly contain sob.
I knew it was
the right thing I had to do
but it was killing me.
I cut out my heart
and left it with you.
All to the
gradually fading song of your sorrow
from my window.

"Come back mama, come back!"



©NDHK

mike "ou dont start loving me and allow me to hold your breath."

everything i touch touches me then turns to death..
so i suggest you dont start loving me and allow me to hold your breath.
                                                             ­                 
                                                             ­          sincerely- the end

the monster in the mirror "singing for as long as you can hold it."

I've memorised the patterns of your face,
the creasing twitches your mouth makes.
The way your hair sticks out on end,
Your slouch to wear a backpack.

The crinkle of your nose when you concentrate,
how the backs of your arms are perfectly straight.
The difference between your real smile and the one caught on camera,
the way you hide your perfect teeth.

How a single piano note mimics your voice,
singing for as long as you can hold it.
Prettier than hansom,
You're flawless, just out of a ziplock bag.

An early morning drug in your bloodstream
erases oxidized pennies under your skin.
I know the bridge of your nose, the space between your eyes,
nesting places for discouraged fingertips.

The way your spine bends at the top for the things that count,
your delicately cantilevered shoulders
giving away your mind.
Oblivious to the world around you.

Let me take a word picture of you, before it's too late.
Sandwich you between memory foam,
preserving your shapely bone structure.
Stains and formaldehyde reached for off of shelves.

Your skinny arms that are too long,
Narrow hips that sway for any melody.
The things you cheer for that you don't care about.
If we put them end to end, tell me the surface area of your apathy.

How carefully did you chose your ringtone,
to perfectly match your flannel shirt?
Buttons done up to the one that's missing,
you pick at loose threads, regretting holes you have yet to make.

Write a monologue for your own entertainment.
Other's compositions are pretty,
but give no comfort
when you’re surviving off an IV drip.

You know the sound of the words you need to hear,
whispering them to yourself when you're alone,
wearing them like an inside out sweater.
Hiding good ideas beneath your uncombed hair.

Distract yourself at a museum.
The oil paintings depicting ancient lives
hang on nails falling out of disintegrating plaster.
Wonder of the people never painted.

You let the milk at the corner of your mouth dry,
shutting the door behind you
because you weren’t expecting come back this way again.
saloon shutters swishing under attractively feminine palms.

Slender with a pelt of checks and stripes,
a spot or two inlaid on your baby face.
Hugs and teddybears lower their voices
to speak softly about siblings.

Quiet cots lie in close clusters
on tables and the ground.
Thin military surplus stores project documentaries
of what it's like to be with you.

Pressed hard to the back of high speed comfy seats
accelerating like amusement park rides.
Uttering a cry for help,
arms reach, waving.

I called your name out through the quiet crowd.
Eyes widened, turning,
hostile basketball jerseys stared
As I said my last words.
                                                                                                                                                          "Nevermind"

Bad posture and skinny arms
recite treaties written by irrelevants.
Vestigial memory tricks in three ring binders
mnemonics click and chatter.

Clean your palette of what's edible,
chew on tinfoil and sharks.
Adept teeth pointing backwards
towards your stomach.

Carrying ice cream sandwiches in your backpack
along with detonation codes
for bombs that don't belong to you,
melted dairy making scraps of paper sticky.

Novel scientific concepts
pill in the lining of your back pockets,
folded carelessly underneath a wad of bus tickets.
You’re becoming a miserable businessman.

Run amok with me, I may be slow,
but my sense of direction is much better.
You’re too manly to use maps,
adorably stereotypical in your square blue car.

I’m going on an adventure, won't you join me?
covertly adjust your swim trunks
to hide spilt soy sauce,
spend today smelling salty.

Take the stairs two at a time.
elegantly lean too far backwards,
plus a nudge to send you spilling off the banister.
Grab at the air with those musician fingers.

One, two, three elitists, what a sight.
Pursing your lips to draw silent judgements,
squinting your eyes and crinkling your nose,
cock your head in the mirror.

If you ever invite me to your house,
I promise I’ll look in every room.
Read your books over your shoulder,
try to understand you more.

paige "lock away in the file marked things to hold on to"

I turn away from you and begin to fall asleep,
when I feel your hand rest on the curve of my side
My skin crawls with the electricity ignited by your touch
My heart rate escalates to a speed that vibrates every cell in my being
Making me certain you can feel it in the fingertips that now sit on my hip
Goosebumps prickle every inch of my skin
I try to reach for your hand but I'm paralyzed
Paralyzed by the idea of you retreating if I move even a centimeter
My muscles become rigid as they are flooded by the adrenaline pulsing through my veins
At this point breathing is the only function I can try to control
Slow down your breathing, he'll know for sure how fast your heart is racing
Speed it up, he'll think you're actually asleep
My brain processes a million electric signals that point me towards the dead end of this makes no sense boulevard
And then the silence is broken by the softest whisper ever to reach the inner workings of my ear
"Are you awake"
The spell of paralysis that I was under is broken
I turn to face you and when our eyes meet, it's a snapshot I will forever lock away in the file marked things to hold on to
Tomorrow this will all seem like a dream,
We'll laugh and chat in front of our friends as if everything's the same
And two weeks from now when I try to put into words the electricity of this moment, it won't suffice
But right now all I want is for your lips to meet mine
And for it to make no sense
But make more sense than anything ever has

 
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