Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
kevin-triolo
kevin-triolo
American Amateur poet. Writing for reflection. Searching for meaning and such. Feedback is appreciated. / / All work is © copyright. All Rights are reserved.
A shuttering light on the porch filtered through crackling orange trees. Their heavy dry leaves smashing into the black concrete. I shield my eyes away from the intensity of fading moments      lost time to the day that started so slow. But still the stones      glow amber as if smiling warmth at me and anyone quiet enough to stop and watch. © 2013
0
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 12:33 PM UTC
Quiet Enough
i-cant remember the last time i slept and woke feeling like the day was going to be something more than just a continuation of the last desperate desperation clinging to all these dreams and promises from people outside of my head but somehow they all end up in there with their judging eyes and brows furrowing at every tentative step taken towards a life i want but can never seem to track down to the wire always coming down to the last second left before i die and i dont even want to try to make-it into something greater than all the ones that came before because i dont believe in endings like i'm some sort of exception to the laws of degradation in-this-physical-realm we just drift through unaware of all that we touch and push away when all i want is to be pulled close and closer and closest because nothing is worse than being a little less than fully loved like whats so ******* wrong with him that you cant take one more step if only to see how it feels to become the center of someone elses existence and to fill all those hungry cracks in a soul left over from previous lives of past-villainy must be the cause because its easier to blame things that dont exist than to accept my own responsibility for the state i'm in and the mistakes i've made so many promises to myself only to break them just to prove that nothing ever comes of hoping for change occurs first from within they said as they pushed and prodded and begged for me to perk up and be something i'm not ready to listen because im afraid to look through the steel grey clouds and see that all along they kicked because they cared. © 2013
0
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 11:23 PM UTC
i cant remember
i-cant remember the last time i slept and woke feeling like the day was going to be something more than just a continuation of the last desperate desperation clinging to all these dreams and promises from people outside of my head but somehow they all end up in there with their judging eyes and brows furrowing at every tentative step taken towards a life i want but can never seem to track down to the wire always coming down to the last second left before i die and i dont even want to try to make-it into something greater than all the ones that came before because i dont believe in endings like i'm some sort of exception to the laws of degradation in-this-physical-realm we just drift through unaware of all that we touch and push away when all i want is to be pulled close and closer and closest because nothing is worse than being a little less than fully loved like whats so ******* wrong with him that you cant take one more step if only to see how it feels to become the center of someone elses existence and to fill all those hungry cracks in a soul left over from previous lives of past-villainy must be the cause because its easier to blame things that dont exist than to accept my own responsibility for the state i'm in and the mistakes i've made so many promises to myself only to break them just to prove that nothing ever comes of hoping for change occurs first from within they said as they pushed and prodded and begged for me to perk up and be something i'm not ready to listen because im afraid to look through the steel grey clouds and see that all along they kicked because they cared. © 2013
Continue reading...
44
creeping cold fingers slipping through the cracks in our-house is built upon old western roots that sometimes find their way up into our heads and fill us with these notions of history and purpose as if an accumulation of past events was enough to create meaning out of a shapeless empty night is where they all seem to run off to in search of something more than themselves but mostly just recognition as they hold up mirrors to the world imploring everything they see to be as they are and love as i-love the way she would bundle up her hair and let it rest atop her like a curled sleeping little cat with-sideways-eyes she glanced but never truly looked at me which was enough to shatter my inclinations towards something more than just acquaintances or any other empty word thats less than what i-always-wanted to be more to someone than they were to me and maybe i am but it never seems to happen with the right people or maybe i havent been paying attention to all those I left behind crying alone before life stopped letting me hurt because living takes things that dont exist like balance becomes impossible in this world of flux where everything we are and want just ebbs and flows. © 2013
0
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 1:00 PM UTC
stream of consciousness
Haunted by duality always there's a reply        creeping up        depths        inside. Mouth still shut cant stay quiet        like lights        in the pines screaming meaning        no one        hears. © 2013
0
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 12:27 PM UTC
Polarity
My heart ticks        incessantly waking up        people as they crash        one second into the next. Without compromise        cant understand why        it all always unravels        back into shifting gears. These perfect little notches        sliding into place        so we can fill each other        into something greater than this. © 2013
0
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
Gears
We just stood and watched, too scared to speak too stupid to care.          Life clings admirably          to be ****** all encompassing          elements          Whither in warm. The center is here real but shapeless the one strange world branched beauty. I think they're conspiring          against me. © 2013
0
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 12:10 PM UTC
Tired of Trying
My thoughts are laced in velvet.  Silky smooth, they glide from one to the next.  Effortlessly shifting into a myriad of unknown, and roads less traveled but somehow familiar, still like twilights and moon rises and time that shifts so slowly as to seem impermeable like that secret box full of the worlds mysteries and truths and all our meanings tucked away so tightly safe.  I once thought I wanted to tear at the seams, reveal the figures behind these tall smirking shadows.  Never again.  So content to sadly soak in the ineffable until skin is porous enough to retain a fraction of what is it to live and breathe and feel.  The universe reflecting in the gleam of her maybe-forced smile, I could tell by the jaded glaze stuck on those decaying eyes.  I didn't mind.  Like so many faded stars, there is life in death. There is beauty in decadence. © 2012
0
Dec 12, 2012
Dec 12, 2012 at 12:27 PM UTC
Beauty in Decadence
It starts slowly with a thread pulling out like clumps of hair from a frazzled scalp aching through bones hot with chemicals chemicals piercing in screaming blood streams trickling down. © 2012
0
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 1:18 PM UTC
Rut
We walked through.         Stingy back alleys.         Decadent         in their fading         twilight glory. Obnoxious dumpsters.         Teemed         with rusted belongings. We took pictures.         Discussing technique.         In depth         connected by         secret jargon. Enlightened meaning.         Dripped         from knowing tongues. © 2012
0
Jun 27, 2012
Jun 27, 2012 at 2:27 PM UTC
One Afternoon
Growing in trees         Life Tinkles out in every         Leaf The tips of branches reaching out just to        Reach. © 2012
0
Jun 27, 2012
Jun 27, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
Reach