bombin-bean - Hello Poetry

When days roll by a little at a time trickling on the rocks, drip drip the time flows by endlessly into the night. Peaceful these days seem and soon you are bombarded unwittingly under stress your soul cries out and like hail pounding on your roof in quarter inch disasters, you pound your fists. Time still flows but it is staggered now, there is a storm tonight. Out of control, it leaves a trail of sorrow behind it. A light flashes and you are startled for a moment. You wait. The floorboards, ceiling fan, your appliances rattle all at once. Lightning strikes and not a single person is hurt but the storm rages on.

0

Apr 26, 2016

Apr 26, 2016 at 11:48 PM UTC

Storm pt.1

When days roll by a little at a time trickling on the rocks, drip drip the time flows by endlessly into the night. Peaceful these days seem and soon you are bombarded unwittingly under stress your soul cries out and like hail pounding on your roof in quarter inch disasters, you pound your fists. Time still flows but it is staggered now, there is a storm tonight. Out of control, it leaves a trail of sorrow behind it. A light flashes and you are startled for a moment. You wait. The floorboards, ceiling fan, your appliances rattle all at once. Lightning strikes and not a single person is hurt but the storm rages on.

16

A feather floating, this feather is me and it was a pound heavier. This once heavy feather merely floated. I found solace in weighted thoughts, my heart was born a feather and it personified me but it felt too special in all the wrong ways when this feather aged and changed many felt pain and this poor feather floated but it added a few ounces to normalize itself this heart of mine added weight by the day to identify myself with other with ease. I tried to float in this new chapter of my life, but the feather floated ungracefully, the feather lost its fluffy bits, bit by bit. Crunch time and I dropped a pound of weight from my heart, it was sudden, almost like losing baggage in an air plane terminal. I use this feather as a saber, it floats gently around conflicts that are blinded by shallow intents and cuts the air. It dances and spins, this feather truly floats.

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Apr 25, 2016

Apr 25, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC

Feather Floats

A feather floating, this feather is me and it was a pound heavier. This once heavy feather merely floated. I found solace in weighted thoughts, my heart was born a feather and it personified me but it felt too special in all the wrong ways when this feather aged and changed many felt pain and this poor feather floated but it added a few ounces to normalize itself this heart of mine added weight by the day to identify myself with other with ease. I tried to float in this new chapter of my life, but the feather floated ungracefully, the feather lost its fluffy bits, bit by bit. Crunch time and I dropped a pound of weight from my heart, it was sudden, almost like losing baggage in an air plane terminal. I use this feather as a saber, it floats gently around conflicts that are blinded by shallow intents and cuts the air. It dances and spins, this feather truly floats.

22

Where do the sunbathed birds go? I want to know because I'm bleached pale with the winters woes and I want out of this cage. I want to sunbathe were the birds might be, with their twittering tweetles and the promise of spring that is so soon around the corner. Here the weather is just as bi-polar as I believe myself to be. I'm a self proclaimed doctor with a self proclaimed condition, and I am prescribing myself a day in the sunshine. I can't wait to be where the robins lay their eggs, where the sparrows fly with a glint of their tail left behind them, and where that indistinguishable "too big for its britches" bird finds himself his next meal... slowly... So please, can you give me any directions to where the sunbathed birds go?

0

Mar 7, 2016

Mar 7, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC

Sunbathed Birds

Where do the sunbathed birds go? I want to know because I'm bleached pale with the winters woes and I want out of this cage. I want to sunbathe were the birds might be, with their twittering tweetles and the promise of spring that is so soon around the corner. Here the weather is just as bi-polar as I believe myself to be. I'm a self proclaimed doctor with a self proclaimed condition, and I am prescribing myself a day in the sunshine. I can't wait to be where the robins lay their eggs, where the sparrows fly with a glint of their tail left behind them, and where that indistinguishable "too big for its britches" bird finds himself his next meal... slowly... So please, can you give me any directions to where the sunbathed birds go?

16

There are days when I remember this incident the incident that made me stop trusting my own instinct and start finding a way to make sure I'm happy. This incident, a letter with the sheer mask of a love letter was really actually a hate letter not directed towards me but to the sender, I find that every time I remember the incident I remember the sheer terror and silent screams that protruded my body, I remember the buckets of tears I cried that night, and I remember the space and time, I remember how happy I was right before I opened that letter and how it faded all too quickly. I can't handle myself now a days but this incident finds me at these moments and grasps me, I remember it, always returning to tears and I come to the conclusion that I don't share a lot about myself and I remembered just today thinking " I talk about myself a lot don't I?" Well I don't, not really. No one really knows how I felt in that moment except God himself, not even now, the moment is too shrill to describe, because it absolutely broke me.

0

Feb 25, 2016

Feb 25, 2016 at 12:19 AM UTC

Reflection

There are days when I remember this incident the incident that made me stop trusting my own instinct and start finding a way to make sure I'm happy. This incident, a letter with the sheer mask of a love letter was really actually a hate letter not directed towards me but to the sender, I find that every time I remember the incident I remember the sheer terror and silent screams that protruded my body, I remember the buckets of tears I cried that night, and I remember the space and time, I remember how happy I was right before I opened that letter and how it faded all too quickly. I can't handle myself now a days but this incident finds me at these moments and grasps me, I remember it, always returning to tears and I come to the conclusion that I don't share a lot about myself and I remembered just today thinking " I talk about myself a lot don't I?" Well I don't, not really. No one really knows how I felt in that moment except God himself, not even now, the moment is too shrill to describe, because it absolutely broke me.

25

Find Rewind unwind your spine in the easiest of manners our machine has cogs as far as they eye can see. You can't see yourself fitting? That's no problem, we can fix that, unwind and we will rewind you and your way of mind. Find Rewind Glue together your thoughts and make them a new song make a new joy out of the sorrow you see. You have been running from your dreams because your gut your gut says "leave" but even so you know you need to go, rewind to a braver time and find yourself pick yourself out of the cog that machine broke you to be in the shape, form, and spitting image of. Find Rewind You there, you right there you can come out of your ******* and into ours you rang your bell when you're crushed to tight but we don't care too much, you are our profit, and no the margins do not lie. Do you remember the last time you even rang that bell? Find Rewind there are memories in that broken shell you claim to fester in there's something in there. I can see that little ray of sunshine in there, come out of the machine that claimed you when you were broken because "no one else wanted you" but that machine wanted your spine your mind and you don't want to rewind to the time you were there, because now you are comfortable, But you have to find your way out my dearest friend, because you are in there.

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Feb 18, 2016

Feb 18, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC

Rewind and Find

Find Rewind unwind your spine in the easiest of manners our machine has cogs as far as they eye can see. You can't see yourself fitting? That's no problem, we can fix that, unwind and we will rewind you and your way of mind. Find Rewind Glue together your thoughts and make them a new song make a new joy out of the sorrow you see. You have been running from your dreams because your gut your gut says "leave" but even so you know you need to go, rewind to a braver time and find yourself pick yourself out of the cog that machine broke you to be in the shape, form, and spitting image of. Find Rewind You there, you right there you can come out of your ******* and into ours you rang your bell when you're crushed to tight but we don't care too much, you are our profit, and no the margins do not lie. Do you remember the last time you even rang that bell? Find Rewind there are memories in that broken shell you claim to fester in there's something in there. I can see that little ray of sunshine in there, come out of the machine that claimed you when you were broken because "no one else wanted you" but that machine wanted your spine your mind and you don't want to rewind to the time you were there, because now you are comfortable, But you have to find your way out my dearest friend, because you are in there.

43

Circuitry, click snap into place the memories of the lesson the learned facts of the day but theres a single missing link and every click snap is misaligned and all of those facts become dust.

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Feb 16, 2016

Feb 16, 2016 at 11:22 AM UTC

Cognative

Circuitry, click snap into place the memories of the lesson the learned facts of the day but theres a single missing link and every click snap is misaligned and all of those facts become dust.

8

Riding down the rapidly declining slope on the bright, soft-water day, I imagine myself as nothing more than an animal falling down a waterfall into a lake clear and crisp. The wheels of my bike turn rapidly like the a propeller of a plane, just as powerful and just as dangerous if I fall, but only to me. Catching the sea salt breeze my blonde, sun bleached hair flies as if it were flying on seagulls wings. I am a cadmium yellow blur on a painting, moving much too fast to be captured and depicted accurately. I ride until the end of my slope this way, finishing strong with out a hint of regret.

0

Feb 3, 2016

Feb 3, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC

Bike Ride

Riding down the rapidly declining slope on the bright, soft-water day, I imagine myself as nothing more than an animal falling down a waterfall into a lake clear and crisp. The wheels of my bike turn rapidly like the a propeller of a plane, just as powerful and just as dangerous if I fall, but only to me. Catching the sea salt breeze my blonde, sun bleached hair flies as if it were flying on seagulls wings. I am a cadmium yellow blur on a painting, moving much too fast to be captured and depicted accurately. I ride until the end of my slope this way, finishing strong with out a hint of regret.

16

There's half a sandwich in my baggie, I run with it around the playground and I'm getting weird looks because.. I'm 23 and somehow I find it much more amusing than nerve wracking because when I wrack my brain to find answers all I can think about is running around my old elementary school play ground. Maybe just maybe that's why I laugh like santa who had just finished his rounds for he year and maybe I laugh like a man that just won a billion dollars, because I know when I go back to work the next day I know I cannot laugh this loud so loud I shed tears of joy, no when I go back I will shed tears of boredom if there is such a thing. Sitting at a desk is killing me, but I guess in the end I've been dying all along. "Sit quietly at your desk until the bell rings" "Ask before you use the restroom" "Finish every thing on your recycled tray" Well let me tell you there are none such rules on the play ground I can run and scream, and I can finish the other half of this sandwich when I **** well want to.

0

Jan 28, 2016

Jan 28, 2016 at 12:44 PM UTC

Half of a Sandwich

There's half a sandwich in my baggie, I run with it around the playground and I'm getting weird looks because.. I'm 23 and somehow I find it much more amusing than nerve wracking because when I wrack my brain to find answers all I can think about is running around my old elementary school play ground. Maybe just maybe that's why I laugh like santa who had just finished his rounds for he year and maybe I laugh like a man that just won a billion dollars, because I know when I go back to work the next day I know I cannot laugh this loud so loud I shed tears of joy, no when I go back I will shed tears of boredom if there is such a thing. Sitting at a desk is killing me, but I guess in the end I've been dying all along. "Sit quietly at your desk until the bell rings" "Ask before you use the restroom" "Finish every thing on your recycled tray" Well let me tell you there are none such rules on the play ground I can run and scream, and I can finish the other half of this sandwich when I **** well want to.

24

Maybe what I need to write isn't something that reflects how I feel but rather how the world around me is beautiful even when I am recovering from crippling embarrassment while I was the center of attention. How there's sunlight coming into the room at such an angle that it creates a heavenly glow across the walls, or maybe how much wearing sweatpants in bed make the experience so sweet. How a sad song makes me happy because it takes away my anger and replaces it with serenity. How there's a walk one step out of the door to where ever i go that keeps my head clear and reminds me how even when it's freezing its a gorgeous day because I'm living in it, not dying. Writing about how beautiful this world can be when I can't find that beauty.. it's therapeutic.

0

Jan 13, 2016

Jan 13, 2016 at 12:32 AM UTC

Therapy

Maybe what I need to write isn't something that reflects how I feel but rather how the world around me is beautiful even when I am recovering from crippling embarrassment while I was the center of attention. How there's sunlight coming into the room at such an angle that it creates a heavenly glow across the walls, or maybe how much wearing sweatpants in bed make the experience so sweet. How a sad song makes me happy because it takes away my anger and replaces it with serenity. How there's a walk one step out of the door to where ever i go that keeps my head clear and reminds me how even when it's freezing its a gorgeous day because I'm living in it, not dying. Writing about how beautiful this world can be when I can't find that beauty.. it's therapeutic.

20

It's a hot day, So hot that the sweat on my back evaporates before it really has a chance to stink. My only true friend in this feverish heat is not my broken AC, or my broken spirit, but this popsicle in my hand. When I was a smaller person with a smaller brain, and a bigger heart, all I wanted was the flavor. Now I am older, smarter, and unfortunatly more in tune with the heat. All I want now is this icy pop in my hand, and maybe a fan too.

0

May 11, 2015

May 11, 2015 at 10:54 AM UTC

Icy Pops

It's a hot day, So hot that the sweat on my back evaporates before it really has a chance to stink. My only true friend in this feverish heat is not my broken AC, or my broken spirit, but this popsicle in my hand. When I was a smaller person with a smaller brain, and a bigger heart, all I wanted was the flavor. Now I am older, smarter, and unfortunatly more in tune with the heat. All I want now is this icy pop in my hand, and maybe a fan too.

15