gary-w-weasel-jr-1 - Hello Poetry

Cataclysm masked in magma And bulging land, aching the trees. Nervousness and candor entwined Caution dissipating quickly. Eruption. Love has abdicated the throne Leniency lacking, giving no quarter Engulfed in the Nietzsche monster Death when lava flows on Pompeii.

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Jun 11, 2020

Jun 11, 2020 at 5:12 PM UTC

Loa

Cataclysm masked in magma And bulging land, aching the trees. Nervousness and candor entwined Caution dissipating quickly. Eruption. Love has abdicated the throne Leniency lacking, giving no quarter Engulfed in the Nietzsche monster Death when lava flows on Pompeii.

9

Today is swaddled in yesteryear. Left in the iron cradle alone. Arise from repose, with stale mind The morrow tarnished by dreams. Pouring regret over my cereal I take a spoonful so I stand in place. There is no ideation, alas, also no striving. The world's hue has faded from my eyes. The blue iris around a sea of dreams, Now is light ash around charcoal. A type of purgatory, so I burn in my sins. I think back to the lighthouse on the shore Wistfully, wonderfully, beacon bright. When the mind and heart made harmony And angels proclaimed majesty on high. The anchor was heralded by the mind, Keeping the voyaging vessel docked at bay. An anchor for my soul, yet naught of the heart. Heart found not the Dutchman, but Jolly Roger Slipping and setting sail, the mind melded not. So now here. Each following breath is waning. If only...

0

May 5, 2020

May 5, 2020 at 10:14 AM UTC

No Heading

Today is swaddled in yesteryear. Left in the iron cradle alone. Arise from repose, with stale mind The morrow tarnished by dreams. Pouring regret over my cereal I take a spoonful so I stand in place. There is no ideation, alas, also no striving. The world's hue has faded from my eyes. The blue iris around a sea of dreams, Now is light ash around charcoal. A type of purgatory, so I burn in my sins. I think back to the lighthouse on the shore Wistfully, wonderfully, beacon bright. When the mind and heart made harmony And angels proclaimed majesty on high. The anchor was heralded by the mind, Keeping the voyaging vessel docked at bay. An anchor for my soul, yet naught of the heart. Heart found not the Dutchman, but Jolly Roger Slipping and setting sail, the mind melded not. So now here. Each following breath is waning. If only...

22

He dies - - - Yet his heart still beats on Man of the minute, slipping away in his chair Into the quiet of the night. The hullabaloo of his mind. He slips and slouches, sipping his drink and sighing Slipping into desperation He looks at the time - - - behind the hand of the clock And all the enemies of peace Standing against an age ago, Become dread itself, turning into the monster And horror unravels the soul The pin drop roars, but what good is screaming Without an ear to hear? How can the out-pouring of one’s heart heal, With tension in the air? So he welcomes the second death.

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Sep 22, 2015

Sep 22, 2015 at 3:51 AM UTC

Lives of Quiet Desperation

He dies - - - Yet his heart still beats on Man of the minute, slipping away in his chair Into the quiet of the night. The hullabaloo of his mind. He slips and slouches, sipping his drink and sighing Slipping into desperation He looks at the time - - - behind the hand of the clock And all the enemies of peace Standing against an age ago, Become dread itself, turning into the monster And horror unravels the soul The pin drop roars, but what good is screaming Without an ear to hear? How can the out-pouring of one’s heart heal, With tension in the air? So he welcomes the second death.

16

Our minds are the dripping faucets Heralding the drops with great prestige Yet the rivers of memories long lost... Are the ones we should cherish the most.

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Oct 20, 2014

Oct 20, 2014 at 3:05 AM UTC

Forgotten Minutes

Our minds are the dripping faucets Heralding the drops with great prestige Yet the rivers of memories long lost... Are the ones we should cherish the most.

4

I lie in the sand under the palm tree Sand between the toes, washing in the sea I count the stars, for the seventh time now. With the moon out, I nearly forget how. My meals come few, and far in between Could the fish be sparser, so it would seem There's so much time between my feasts to think Ocean surrounds, yet not a drop to drink. I ponder at the moon and recognize How its hue reveals the deceit and lies You, my misty moon, I remember you When I saw you last, in agony too. Those I held dearest left me here to rot To wander about, within pain and thought To fend for myself and survive alone And march ahead in bracing the unknown. I lie in wait tearing my own nails Wondering what first will come, death or sails? Until then I'll forsake those who left me And draw closer to the sun whilst I be.

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Feb 17, 2014

Feb 17, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC

I lie in the sand under the palm tree

I lie in the sand under the palm tree Sand between the toes, washing in the sea I count the stars, for the seventh time now. With the moon out, I nearly forget how. My meals come few, and far in between Could the fish be sparser, so it would seem There's so much time between my feasts to think Ocean surrounds, yet not a drop to drink. I ponder at the moon and recognize How its hue reveals the deceit and lies You, my misty moon, I remember you When I saw you last, in agony too. Those I held dearest left me here to rot To wander about, within pain and thought To fend for myself and survive alone And march ahead in bracing the unknown. I lie in wait tearing my own nails Wondering what first will come, death or sails? Until then I'll forsake those who left me And draw closer to the sun whilst I be.

20

Would you be my friend? Yet in time I gripe with Plato Could you be my friend? Socrates and Gorgias spar. These bandages can only be shrouded Underneath grains of sand Falling upon this dune. During every heartbeat One thousand grains augment this mound Within every heartbeat The earth spins away from days' light. Time shortens between friend and foe Their pearls are rusty now. I simply wait for sand.

0

Feb 17, 2014

Feb 17, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC

Would you be my friend?

Would you be my friend? Yet in time I gripe with Plato Could you be my friend? Socrates and Gorgias spar. These bandages can only be shrouded Underneath grains of sand Falling upon this dune. During every heartbeat One thousand grains augment this mound Within every heartbeat The earth spins away from days' light. Time shortens between friend and foe Their pearls are rusty now. I simply wait for sand.

14

How I wish the blade upon you Your lips are benign to all Yet your heart, malignant You believe that you know my pain That you think I deserve it all So should I gouge your heart? To give a sample of it? You had no shame to embrace One committed to another. Your selfish ambitions are the death Of you. You're not even worth the dust of Earth Your touch is cold The steel of Brutus' dagger Into Caesar's back. Oh how your statue has evolved You never cared about me, Brutus. For if I am true of your intentions, Then God's judgment will rain upon you.

0

Feb 17, 2014

Feb 17, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC

How I wish the blade upon you

How I wish the blade upon you Your lips are benign to all Yet your heart, malignant You believe that you know my pain That you think I deserve it all So should I gouge your heart? To give a sample of it? You had no shame to embrace One committed to another. Your selfish ambitions are the death Of you. You're not even worth the dust of Earth Your touch is cold The steel of Brutus' dagger Into Caesar's back. Oh how your statue has evolved You never cared about me, Brutus. For if I am true of your intentions, Then God's judgment will rain upon you.

20

Even should I rip every nerve from my flesh, Will I still feel this agonizing pain? For I am left to lay here, alone without an option Until this illness is taken from me. Oh do I have empathy for prisoners in their cells Their minds not quicker than flesh In the same manner I am bound here to brood To soak within my own torment. I remember the days with your fingers through my hair Watching over me, caretaking. But now not a soul has ne'er an interest in me For all they know, I could be dead. Alas, yes the thought has been planted, yet, The soil around strangles it. For if it were not for that rich soil that you, Are not a part of, it would bloom. Perhaps I'll draw a line to prove my insanity Instead of going down the road And then, maybe, just maybe you will see then, The iceberg's tip from the beast beast beneath.

0

Feb 17, 2014

Feb 17, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC

Even should I rip every nerve from my flesh

Even should I rip every nerve from my flesh, Will I still feel this agonizing pain? For I am left to lay here, alone without an option Until this illness is taken from me. Oh do I have empathy for prisoners in their cells Their minds not quicker than flesh In the same manner I am bound here to brood To soak within my own torment. I remember the days with your fingers through my hair Watching over me, caretaking. But now not a soul has ne'er an interest in me For all they know, I could be dead. Alas, yes the thought has been planted, yet, The soil around strangles it. For if it were not for that rich soil that you, Are not a part of, it would bloom. Perhaps I'll draw a line to prove my insanity Instead of going down the road And then, maybe, just maybe you will see then, The iceberg's tip from the beast beast beneath.

20

Upon the spring of a time once past, An introduction was conducted by one To another where the time would come. And meet later to make acquaintance last. He dwelt upon the memory, held it fast, Kept its contents from seeming numb. In repose he lay charmed once more, By her charm, her smile and hair. For he gave a smile to his lady fair Unconscious to his thought at the core. And the echo through his ear evermore. "Hello, stranger" with amicable care. He then aged threescore days. Never forgetting his memory. Reminding always will there she be With physical absence and spiritual craze. Storing the face in a foggy haze, Gaping into the void in reverie.

0

Jan 1, 2013

Jan 1, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC

Upon the spring of a time once past

Upon the spring of a time once past, An introduction was conducted by one To another where the time would come. And meet later to make acquaintance last. He dwelt upon the memory, held it fast, Kept its contents from seeming numb. In repose he lay charmed once more, By her charm, her smile and hair. For he gave a smile to his lady fair Unconscious to his thought at the core. And the echo through his ear evermore. "Hello, stranger" with amicable care. He then aged threescore days. Never forgetting his memory. Reminding always will there she be With physical absence and spiritual craze. Storing the face in a foggy haze, Gaping into the void in reverie.

18

I have twice of what I never had, Either one or the other, too sad. My soul is warped As it goes Northeast My thoughts I sort And discover four beast One I knew, I felt, so painful A desire which thinks all's beautiful One I see, locked away inside It's power is anger, I'll never abide. One I discover, takes of rule Stops me from living, fear is cruel. One i am. I was. I'm now. Rules of all, as loyal I bow. All go to all ways Never to follow another Endless as rays Neutral as the mother. What the center, they Can't describe anymore. I go forth to north, Which element are you for?

0

Jan 1, 2013

Jan 1, 2013 at 10:07 PM UTC

4 Prime Elements

I have twice of what I never had, Either one or the other, too sad. My soul is warped As it goes Northeast My thoughts I sort And discover four beast One I knew, I felt, so painful A desire which thinks all's beautiful One I see, locked away inside It's power is anger, I'll never abide. One I discover, takes of rule Stops me from living, fear is cruel. One i am. I was. I'm now. Rules of all, as loyal I bow. All go to all ways Never to follow another Endless as rays Neutral as the mother. What the center, they Can't describe anymore. I go forth to north, Which element are you for?

22