kyle-fisher - Hello Poetry

All of a sudden, I'm cold. The air tickles my nose as it cools my throat, and my knees quiver under the cotton knitting of my jeans. All of a sudden, I'm tired. Everyday. All day. The pages turn, each with less vigor than the last. All of a sudden I'm sore. My hands creaking; back aching. Time stomps its stone feet on my shoulders, as it should, without regret. All of a sudden, I'm purposeless. The passion I admire slips through my fingers and trickles onto the floor like water from a dish towel. All of a sudden, I'm angry. Sounds of hate escape my soul through pursed lips. I curse myself by laying seige to those closest to me. All of a sudden, I'm stagnant. Sinking in life slowly until bedrock. My troubles rise through my toes like chains locking me in. All of a sudden, I'm lost. Alone, Pulling at synapses to recover what was once my image. The air tickles my nose as it cools my throat. All of a sudden, the man I once was is forgotten.

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Sep 29, 2024

Sep 29, 2024 at 9:44 PM UTC

kyle-fisher

The Man I Once Was

All of a sudden, I'm cold. The air tickles my nose as it cools my throat, and my knees quiver under the cotton knitting of my jeans. All of a sudden, I'm tired. Everyday. All day. The pages turn, each with less vigor than the last. All of a sudden I'm sore. My hands creaking; back aching. Time stomps its stone feet on my shoulders, as it should, without regret. All of a sudden, I'm purposeless. The passion I admire slips through my fingers and trickles onto the floor like water from a dish towel. All of a sudden, I'm angry. Sounds of hate escape my soul through pursed lips. I curse myself by laying seige to those closest to me. All of a sudden, I'm stagnant. Sinking in life slowly until bedrock. My troubles rise through my toes like chains locking me in. All of a sudden, I'm lost. Alone, Pulling at synapses to recover what was once my image. The air tickles my nose as it cools my throat. All of a sudden, the man I once was is forgotten.

20

I've never written of love, because until now, I've never been engulfed in its transcendence. Enamored by the faint breath of a sleeping beauty. Being assured without assurance. Fire in the chest, and Ice on the toes. Completely immobile, only jetting endlessly in the right direction. Can this, be real?

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Jun 5, 2019

Jun 5, 2019 at 11:01 PM UTC

kyle-fisher

Transcendence

I've never written of love, because until now, I've never been engulfed in its transcendence. Enamored by the faint breath of a sleeping beauty. Being assured without assurance. Fire in the chest, and Ice on the toes. Completely immobile, only jetting endlessly in the right direction. Can this, be real?

7

Bristles and branches come crashing down, spraying embers at your feet. One by one they plummet, seeking solitude within your ability to cool them. Twist and tweak, be silent and listen, for the ones worthwhile will instead, set your cool ablaze.

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Dec 18, 2018

Dec 18, 2018 at 1:46 AM UTC

kyle-fisher

Searching For Fire

Bristles and branches come crashing down, spraying embers at your feet. One by one they plummet, seeking solitude within your ability to cool them. Twist and tweak, be silent and listen, for the ones worthwhile will instead, set your cool ablaze.

3

I try so hard to unfeel things.. Pushing against the walls of my past. I invite the help of other hands to topple the monumental foundation that is "Kyle." It never works.. "I'm responsible for my own happiness." I'm so irresponsible sometimes..

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Aug 14, 2017

Aug 14, 2017 at 12:00 AM UTC

kyle-fisher

Irresponsible

I try so hard to unfeel things.. Pushing against the walls of my past. I invite the help of other hands to topple the monumental foundation that is "Kyle." It never works.. "I'm responsible for my own happiness." I'm so irresponsible sometimes..

6

To be, or not, to be... That is plagiarism. Although, the rested see.. It's the only "ism" Will I do? Or, will I do not? Will I place soulfully, the life before me? Or, will I defy my end with bitter, confusion. I doubt them both. Within my heart, I chase a rope. About a time, When rhyme and cope. Are one, the same, Rewrite my hope. Can one remain, While others greave? Burn the bridge, And meld the seam. Amassed awake, Your idle dream, Don't mind the pain, Rewrite and leave.

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Aug 12, 2017

Aug 12, 2017 at 8:17 PM UTC

kyle-fisher

Rewrite

To be, or not, to be... That is plagiarism. Although, the rested see.. It's the only "ism" Will I do? Or, will I do not? Will I place soulfully, the life before me? Or, will I defy my end with bitter, confusion. I doubt them both. Within my heart, I chase a rope. About a time, When rhyme and cope. Are one, the same, Rewrite my hope. Can one remain, While others greave? Burn the bridge, And meld the seam. Amassed awake, Your idle dream, Don't mind the pain, Rewrite and leave.

23

I feel a presence, As if it tickles the back of my ear. Subtle and warming, reaching and playcating. Amassed by the sound, I walk forward, stumbling and dumbfounded. Tripping over pebbles like mountains. It wasn't who I thought I was, it was you..

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May 14, 2017

May 14, 2017 at 6:13 PM UTC

kyle-fisher

It Was You...

I feel a presence, As if it tickles the back of my ear. Subtle and warming, reaching and playcating. Amassed by the sound, I walk forward, stumbling and dumbfounded. Tripping over pebbles like mountains. It wasn't who I thought I was, it was you..

5

Skewed, and Angled. Perception of time seems so vulnerable, at least able to be captured.. mangled. Away it flies, yet draws closer by the second; quilted with its own set of rules and manners.. entangled.. in itself. Oxymoronic. The ultimate healer, but kills all, besides itself, "In time." Dividing a fine line between happiness and misery.. Above rides the wind, and below, the waves. Neither can go back, or skip ahead.

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Jan 18, 2017

Jan 18, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC

kyle-fisher

Skip Ahead - part 1

Skewed, and Angled. Perception of time seems so vulnerable, at least able to be captured.. mangled. Away it flies, yet draws closer by the second; quilted with its own set of rules and manners.. entangled.. in itself. Oxymoronic. The ultimate healer, but kills all, besides itself, "In time." Dividing a fine line between happiness and misery.. Above rides the wind, and below, the waves. Neither can go back, or skip ahead.

7

May the way you feel, feel you.. The times you hold, hold you.

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Nov 11, 2016

Nov 11, 2016 at 10:59 PM UTC

kyle-fisher

Choices

May the way you feel, feel you.. The times you hold, hold you.

4

This side seems more fitting, when strangled by piercing emotion. It doesn't seem to fade well, Wellness unacheived, only commotion. Down, down we go, Slight light opening. Wake me up, Keep me frozen thin. Too much my friends, to end, and pretend. Keep hold of a life, just starting to mend. But long overdue for saturated intoxication.. The feels.. Sink.. Until next time.

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Nov 6, 2016

Nov 6, 2016 at 12:56 AM UTC

kyle-fisher

The Time Before, The Time Before

This side seems more fitting, when strangled by piercing emotion. It doesn't seem to fade well, Wellness unacheived, only commotion. Down, down we go, Slight light opening. Wake me up, Keep me frozen thin. Too much my friends, to end, and pretend. Keep hold of a life, just starting to mend. But long overdue for saturated intoxication.. The feels.. Sink.. Until next time.

16

Hoping Beyond spoken This precious moment Coat in loathing My mind is closing I'll be abrupt I'm about to erupt I'll drown this tear inside my cup Folding up Feeling stuck in a rut Not giving up.. I cant. A spark A glance I'm holding another chance I can't wait to advance In this life with you in my hands I love you

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Aug 8, 2016

Aug 8, 2016 at 1:24 PM UTC

kyle-fisher

Monday Morning

Hoping Beyond spoken This precious moment Coat in loathing My mind is closing I'll be abrupt I'm about to erupt I'll drown this tear inside my cup Folding up Feeling stuck in a rut Not giving up.. I cant. A spark A glance I'm holding another chance I can't wait to advance In this life with you in my hands I love you

18