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Sprout
Andrew Crawford Aug 2022
Sprout
Daydreams-
scattered clouds
of feather down
radiating gold around,
lacing outer bounds,
heaven sent
and proudly crowned;
profound and renowned,
astounding throughout-
I bow, devout.

Drowsy, I arouse
raising brow
wondering about
shadows casting doubt
like a shroud.
Thunderstorm
announces with a howl,
sky’s wide mouth shouts,
with a sound devours;
growling gigawatts
of gouging power
on the prowl.

I cower,
loud as a mouse,
counting the amount
of seconds I allow
to slip by every hour;
scavenging and scrounging
to find a route,
I flounder
until I found
a seed endowed;
forged in drought
and valor.

Spouting fountain,
dousing the ground
in a shower;
unwound, this sprout
and boughs will tower;
a house beneath
its blossomed flower.
I build a mound,
even if I can't surmount,
my spirit is scoured-
and I vow this garden is ours.
How now brown cow?

This one's a repost from a couple years ago... ive had writers block going on 6 or 7 months now, so I've been going back over older poems trying to either fix the part that didnt sit right with me or scrap them altogether (in favor of trying to develop a newer, better poem)... the beginning of this one never sat right with me but I am happy with some parts of it
#rhyme #perseverance #sisyphean
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Summer Hungover
Andrew Crawford Dec 2016
Summer Hungover
Diaphragm expanded
like the cigarette burns on the empty wood floor
from when I left the mattress there and didnt care anymore,
started laying down beside the beaten, weathered boards;
these decades in the grains of timber grew towards-
I lie inert, my bones the weeping willow's withered roots now stretched forward
to sunlight creeping in the windows through daybreak's drunken disorder.
Dehydrated, tormented, and long tortured;
regurgitations reemerged, restless, pushed shoreward-
dysphoric dreams; no rest beneath intoxicated border.
#hangover #hungover
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Summer's Sleep
Andrew Crawford Sep 2024
Summer's Sleep
Summer surrenders sunlight to snow, so slow;
in shades of yellow and red reposed,
autumn’s amber drove.
Into the cold and winter’s wanton woes
restlessness still blows;
despite the icy bite unavoidably exposed,
now a blooming green, in memory still glows.
Through longer nights and silent sleeted sorrows
by keeping close a wealth of warmth from yesterdays ago, I’ve borrowed;
I close my eyes today and dream, now of tomorrows.
Can't believe I wrote this 9 years ago... this used to be one of my best poems (and is probably one of maybe two from 7+ years ago that aren't awful ****)... wild to see how much my style has changed (and my poetry has improved) over the last 9 years.
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Swan Song
Andrew Crawford Jan 2024
Swan Song
As dawn's fog yawns
exhausted jaws call upon
tomorrows and beyond.

Pondering somnolent solitude's
honest and solemn qualms,
the calm before
ancient eons old atomic bomb;
clouds becoming bells of bronze,
air a balmy sauna,
strands of photon blonde
don tree awnings
and lush bladed lawns
strong enough to rouse flora,
fauna frolicking along,
faults and all their wrongs;
summer sunrise,
curtains, drapes are drawn,
phenomenon a drama
of God's pawns,
audience applause
the crawling pulse
of this cosmic throng.

But chronology's period
more like a comma, pause,
as falling autumns quick bygone,
then a wave of frigid wand
and winter's frostbitten trauma haunts;
maudlin waters frozen wanton,
fossilized to icy ponds,
ossified swans mourn silenced songs
their unspoken sonnets
for want of
warm renaissance.
#insomnia #winter #depression #mentalillness
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Sway (2nd draft)
Andrew Crawford Nov 2021
Sway (2nd draft)
Adjacent places in space,
alternating waves
and fluctuating states
encased in ancient clay
taking vague shape
creates and unmakes
its own paper maché face;
portrayed,
gave name, draped-
vagrant flame ablaze,
nascent and awake.

Into the fray,
blades flaying
flesh agape,
my skin scraped,
nothing safe;
I must leave no trace
and base no faith
in erased slate;
afraid,
higher stakes played,
will I pay?
No way to relate,
what could I ever say
to convey?

Earth quakes
cities vacated and razed
as heavenly body vibrates
reasserting reign;
tectonic plates break,
fissures snake,
aimless traipsing fingertips;
hastily laid basement's
pavement caves in,
labyrinthine maze
of narrow,
harrowed straits
dig my grave.

No escape from this cage, I pace-
my weight betrayed
limping and lame,
graceless skating
figure eights
pirouette rotate
as frame decays to waste,
body aches
with age and dismay,
lines tracing pain
I await the day
and for whose sake?

Chaste,
craving a naked embrace
to kiss on the nape,
just a taste
could stave or slake;
gazes trade-
sudden sun rays,
through clouds grey laced,
my eyes dilate,
invading the gates
of my brain.

Breath bated,
taken away;
fates interlaced
or am i only
swayed astray
by another wraith
that will fade into shade?

Emaciated,
to be slain by my own starvation
and hunger pangs?

Will circle of veins
be exanguinated, drained
as seedling baby daisies' chains
are spewed and scattered into May
in springtime bathed in sanguine rain,
by summertime a scarlet stain?

Will I be jaded
to a hue of navy blue,
will foray turn beige?

But I gave chase and prayed.
This is another one I'm unsure if I prefer the first or second version. Probably the other version since it's more concise, just figured I'd put this one out there anyway since there were some parts I did like (might even just rework/rewrite it later, who knows)
#rhyme #love #heartbreak
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[Tears I Purge (2nd draft)]
Andrew Crawford Nov 2024
[Tears I Purge (2nd draft)]
Seeds scattered
gather the courage
to germinate, emerge
as fertile, verdant trees
of evergreen and birch,
breeze's tease and flirt
enough to render
Earth fractured–
shattered.

Underneath the dirt
remorse's corpse interred,
lurking thoughts linger,
yet something within me
still stirs and burns;
searching the surface
for touch, tender.

Heart murmurs
but not as
a murmuration of starlings depart,
more like crows murdered;
buzzards, vultures circling birds
conjured–
the curse unburied torture,
no dying words in final dirge
and yet it yearns
for yesterday's return.

Memories my mind blurs,
senses fervently usurped–
but time can never
be reversed,
this cistern's nature
gushing to a turbulent river,
water's surging,
turgid current, pure;
about to die of thirst,
this dam soon fills to burst,
my love i spill and purge
as i remember her.

I was an earlier version
of an imperfect person,
a scourge
of that I stand assured,
but this pain is
terminal,
permanent,
and the only cure
is her laughter,
rapture,
or feeling
fragile fingers,
shelter–
you certainly weren't the first heartbreak I've had
but **** it hurts the worst.
***** when you have a lot of pain and regrets with someone, would do anything to fix it just because you truly love them and what you had more than anything in this world, but youre just at two different places in your lives and the feelings arent mutual. And because all you want is their happiness you have to just let it go (even if all *you* want is them) cuz you also cant just stay around and let yourself get hurt either (when they dont even know if they want you at all)... guess that's just life tho 💔

And just a sidenote– murmuration refers to the way a flock of starlings flies around, look up pictures/videos if youve never seen it, it's really something. Also partly inspired by the song Beautiful Curse by Lost Dog Street Band.
#rhyme #heartbreak #heartbroken #unrequited
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Temptation's Torment
Andrew Crawford Dec 2016
Temptation's Torment
In holy hollow, head reacts-
bodies, bathed in black, attract.
Shredded shrapnel scraps attack-
muscles move, skin contracts.
Hand advances, arm retracts-
concrete coma cracks.
Sigh in silence; stolen, strained...
In darkness, nicotine nerves still remain;
in subtle movements, we shift blame.
Unbridled, no refrain.
Consciousness in conflict, I cave-
but wariness stays, gained and saved.
In morning's mourning, mind a mess-
condemned in quiet, I get dressed.
To bedroom door, reason regressed,
from stitch of pain so firmly pressed.
Not a single moment's rest.
Temptation's torment, just a test;
in contrast, crime I couldn't confess-
though none to give, I've something less...
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Tide
Andrew Crawford Dec 2022
Tide
Tensions wind with
sea's rising tide
then curtains' delicate divide.

Tongue's unsung syllables rhyme,
body's language replying in kind
its secrets, inclined to confide
in human passions
humid, dripping liquefied;
sweetness seizes and slides-
a taste inside
where nectar, ambrosial, resides.

Blurring in a flurry
of your nerves and mine
as if designed
to collide then combine
for a time,
you and i intertwined;
lying supine, your
spine obliged to writhe,
legs around head,
softest vices tightly bind,
hands on thighs,
slowly grind
upon this throne you ride,
crown for the divine;
unifying flesh and minds,
higher towards sky
you climb.

Then knot untied
leaves skin sweat soaked-
satisfied,
described only by
a sigh.
Reposting cuz this didnt really get any views last time lol

Never written a poem about *** before (I guess just cuz even reading poems about it always made feel kinda ****** afterwards lol) but tried to do it a bit more tastefully. Not even sure if I'll keep this one tbh, just a rough draft for now

Also just some side notes with this one (since these words have double meanings): Ambrosia - 1. (In Greek or Roman mythology) the perfume/food of the gods, often depicted as conferring longevity or immortality upon whoever consumed it, literally means "immortality" in Greek; 2. Something extremely pleasing to taste or smell.
Nectar - 1. The drink of the gods; 2. Something delicious to drink; 3. a sugary fluid secreted by plants, especially within flowers to encourage pollination by insects and other animals
#rhyme #passion
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Tip of My Tongue
Andrew Crawford Dec 2016
Tip of My Tongue
Tip of my tongue, numbed;
words, unsung, heavily hung among my breathless lungs.
Trembling, assembling, three syllables still stunned;
through listless lips, slipped, stammering- stung.
Precariously, so perilously I plunge;
on precipice long perched, i freely fall, fast from.
Ephemeral and fleeting, my crumbled fear succumbs;
days ****** to darkness, now dawning sun's undone.
The difficulty in telling someone ‘I love you’
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To Mom
Andrew Crawford Aug 2024
To Mom
Floods raze,
earthquakes shake,
locusts plague,
lost sheep astray,
and my stomach
is a knotted pit of snakes.

My pain cascades in waves
while you pray
to the angels
and patronizing saints;
it's not God's grace
testing faith
but a mind erased
as brain deteriorates.

It isn't fate
but a baby languishing,
afraid of danger,
drained,
trauma ingrained
so I must vacate
because mom
I can no longer bear the weight
of being brave
and maybe I can't be saved
but I can't stand
to see you in this state
and I can't stay
so please just remember
all the love I gave-
I love you always
and I'll take that straight
to my grave-
I never placed the blame,
I'm just exsanguinated
and i bet you'll never even realize
today is my birthday
so i guess I'll see you
at the pearly gates-
please don't wait.
This one is definitely my most personal/raw (and i dont know how I feel about airing this publicly) so not sure if I'll even keep it...

My mom has schizoaffective with religious hallucinations/delusions and is very much in denial... ive tried to figure out how to get through to her for years and in a couple brief moments of lucidity thought I had a couple breakthroughs... but her mental health has rapidly declined to the point where just trying to have a basic conversation is impossible (and made me realized how traumatized I now am because of her, what it still does to *me* because i cant even talk to her without shaking now, etc) and she refuses to ever get proper treatment so I finally had to cut her off (because it would be too heartbreaking to watch her suffer and continue deteriorating, isn't fair to me to let her drag me down with her just because I still care, she won't get help, etc)... I wrote her a letter trying one last time to get through to her and gave her an ultimatum whether or not she wants to keep me in her life and now i have to just know I tried all I could. It took me a week to write... but unfortunately untreated bipolar and schizophrenia are also neurodegerative conditions (and the brain loses gray matter over time) so it eventually becomes a pretty serious impairment as heartbreaking as that is to watch, so im not sure I'll have much luck...

Also saw the date and hadnt even realized it was after midnight so it was my birthday... checked when she texted me (because that's what prompted me emailing the letter) and it was at 12:04am (a mere four minutes into my birthday) and I can guarantee she won't even realize. Thought it was eerily fitting though...
#rhyme #mom #psychosis #schizophrenia
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Turn and Toss
Andrew Crawford Apr 2023
Turn and Toss
From atop lofty thoughts,
dropped off softly;
so often, I lay awake
turning and tossing,
internal monologue talking,
masochistic sophistry blossoming
as it ought not to be.

A colossal cloth,
silken plume,
ink blot shades of grey
spread, peacocking;
this offering of pebbles brought
a monument
to all of the impossible
rocking before toppling-
comatose and claustrophobic,
I can exert no reverse inertia
to stop this cacophony.

Anxious, fraught,
my worries stalking me;
distraught
and tense posturing;
I fought to hold,
my fingers taut;
knuckles knotting,
vices tightly throttling.

Locked between
clock's tick and tock,
every second,
hands painstakingly wrought-
caught up,
sudden and shockingly.

Crawling awkwardly,
clawing at the walls,
coughing from the noxious oxygen
of my own rotting sarcophagus.

Insomnia fostering this paradox,
mocking me;
sleep deprivation walking,
no elysian veil to cross for me;
my own exhaustion
the coffin accosting me;
awful volume of this noise
ultimately just grains of static
all for naught,
frothing
and washed to sea.
This one is a repost from a few years ago... I recently read it at an open mic though, which is something I've always struggled with (both reading my stuff aloud and especially with social anxiety in front of other people lol)... but I was really happy with how this recording turned out. Still went a little too fast and didn't enunciate as clearly as I would've liked in a few spots but for the most part it was still a lot better than other attempts lol. And the video can be found here: https://youtu.be/TJr5-n6G0Eg
#insomnia #mentalillness #rhyme #spokenword
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Unmentioned
Andrew Crawford Aug 2024
Unmentioned
Last call
for a shot of medicine;
out the doorway,
jettisoned-
street eddied,
car horns blare
in discordant reveille;
resurrected revenant's
footsteps stumbled,
met cement unsteadily.

Emotionally bankrupt,
emptied and spent of sentiment;
debt, tremendous,
weighing heavily;
penniless gentleman,
beggar prince unmentioned,
last possession
only paltry poetry expressed
in signature sanguine,
saccharine,
and left stretched pencil thin.
#rhyme #lastcall
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Unrequited
Andrew Crawford Dec 2016
Unrequited
Your company's like nighttime sky over sultry summer days-
long arms embrace afar across the cooling humid haze.
The heat still broiled into pavement now evaporates the rain
but at its core, the asphalt molten, still sweltered and sunbaked.
I chain smoke my way through another five minute mistake-
again now in tens, I'm alone, still awake;
sometimes, shallowed breaths, then wavering, shake
and unresolved, unrequited, in between aches.
#unrequited
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Unrequited (1st draft)
Andrew Crawford Sep 2024
Unrequited (1st draft)
So nicely
love like
a knife slit
siphons the life from me.

Just the price to be
unrequited,
like a vice grip tightness
strife will seize.

Lightning strike
ignites memories,
fighting
horizon's eve.

Island retreat,
my plight
in crisis
I flee.
#rhyme #heartbreak #love #unrequited
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Untitled (1st draft)
Andrew Crawford Dec 2024
Untitled (1st draft)
[Untitled (1st draft)]

I am the transient man,
intangible phantom
banished to abandoned lands;
vast expanse,
canyons spanned–
chancing stance on
steepest slants and
shifting sands
as if the whole planets ******.

What began as arms working in tandem
became appendages ending in frantic answers,
this romanceless dance a tantrum
just to get a handle,
my damaged hands scramble.

Trying to meet the demands for a lantern
with only this wind stricken candle's
wick flickering, unample.

But no,
leave plants to wither
in sunlit strands absence,
animals rabid with famine–
I plan to build the grandest mansion
carve the
fireplace's mantle,
walls like anvils
strong enough to withstand
any cannonball;
wrought iron fence and brambles
not even god could trample.
Really not so sure about this one (as usual lol), not sure if it's a little too fragmented/disjointed or if it's even worth keeping 🤷‍♂️ been tryin like hell to stay positive lately tho
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Untitled (1st draft)
Andrew Crawford Nov 2024
Untitled (1st draft)
Cold snap,
winter waxing
last leaves fallen,
flapping,
winds gasping
pass through
restless grasses,
pastures
frozen fast,
snow like radioactive ashes,
apparition after
ghastly disaster passes.

Buried
epitaph and casket
resuscitated
capillary action
but heart beat,
******, battered,
fractured,
cracked in half,
practically shattered
by dying's
cataclysms
catastrophes,
calamities and accidents;
nerves wracked,
lacerations, lashes,
wounds vacant and vacuous
left vast gaps
except for shrapnel
trapped in skin,
flak became
embedded artifacts
I can't detach,
collateral gathered
from each battle and attack.

But I don't bleed lachrymose
splattered abstract;
no, more like a
tree tapped,
molasses saturating
gnarled bark,
honey laquered sap
sickly sweetened,
saccharine
heals these wounds
like plaster,
scar tissue grafted,
the wood will just be splinters
crafted into matchstick castle rafters,
stacked massive
even if the
scaffolding and ladders rattle,
platforms shiver,
teeth chatter to the attic,
bones become the real bastion;
not an empty and dilapidated house
but home
more like a holy chapel,
halls of hardened crystal
carved from alabaster, marble,
lapis, sapphire, and jasper–
an earthly masterpiece
carried upon the back of
an Atlas stature.
Idk if I'll even keep this one, not sure if I like it... just tryna turn the pain into something beautiful instead i guess
#rhyme #growth #resilience
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Untitled (1st draft)
Andrew Crawford Dec 2024
Untitled (1st draft)
She told me she remembers fondly when she looks back
And I'm glad she has that but I have enough phantoms in my past
And I still remember the way she looked standing in the window hair halo'd with light smile sun dappled as she laughed
But nothing lasts
So im left alone again and fractured as if nothing mattered
Just another **** regret
Damage collateral
#rhyme #heartbreak #heartbroken #heartache
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Untitled (1st draft)
Andrew Crawford Jun 2023
Untitled (1st draft)
Snowflakes draped,
landscapes of paper
froze opaque.

Vacating
sacred spaces
forsaking each and every station
seeking safest places.

Alienation shaping faces
of white dunes elevated,
night soon erases
fading traces illuminated,
lighted by moon phases;
glacier's pace excruciating,
frostbitten, frigid
in an aching stasis.

But I awaken from sedation,
summer's warmth embraces;
June not even undertaken
so I await and ruminate
in patience.
Had some bits and pieces lying around and finally turned them into something more cohesive/coherent but still not sure how i feel about this one (as usual lol)
#rhyme #bittersweet
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Untitled (2nd draft)
Andrew Crawford Dec 2024
Untitled (2nd draft)
Thought I would need to be blind
to miss the signs that
you were meant to be mine;
smiles stretched miles wide
and serendipity starbound
in the nights together
awake til twilight.
But your gentle touch
is now engraved in my spine,
cleaved by the same knives
which divided
once you decided
that you reside
over the line.

Memories that bind
still seize,
bleed in my mind;
I'm undone
but not yet untied,
I took a dive
and the only reciprocity
were my returning sighs like the tide,
the quiet and silence
of goodbyes
bottles now washed up on the seaside
freezing messages
left inside,
the past now magnified,
broken glass gutting
and cutting me down to size
leaves me grieving a lie
crying why can't I find,
tried,
died,
now pining to be revived–
my god am I even still alive?
Well I guess its time
to just
survive.
#rhyme #heartbreak #heartbroken #heartache
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Vacancy (1st draft)
Andrew Crawford May 2023
Vacancy (1st draft)
Escaping trachea
death rattle on my tongue
leaves a taste of vacancy;
can barely breathe,
these black lungs wheeze,
never sleep heavenly.
Born nakedly,
basic needs
became an aching grief;
never what it seems
no sanctions nor safeties,
all i achieve
is empty pleas.

Is it heresy
if a nightmare's just
how demons dream?
Hellaciously
faces scream
awakened by the smell of kerosene;
even atheist abomination,
disgraced and faithless,
keeps belief in satan
in this place of fiends.
Still had writer's block but this one actually came out pretty quick... was also experimenting a bit with multisyllabic rhyme
#rhyme #mentalillness
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Wildflowers (1st draft)
Andrew Crawford Nov 2024
Wildflowers (1st draft)
Soon season's truth
cruelly lingers, looms,
moves to darken daylit view;
as dusk encroaches, colors move,
hues reduced and trees left mute.

You cannot wish
or want or choose
wildflowers too
wont wilt where grew
as if futilely doomed
once winter wounds
will chill to ruin,
beauty we lose
illuminated only by
a cold white moon.

For springtime comes
and i swear to you
no matter what we knew
or became so used to
amidst the weeds
our heirloom seeds
still bloom anew–
if only wait,
I'll prove to you.
Very rough 1st-ish draft 😅
#rhyme #hope #optimism #resilience
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Writer's Block
Andrew Crawford Nov 2024
Writer's Block
God forbidden dimwitted idiot
oddly created in his image
as if he could ever pity or give a ****
about every illegitimate kid of his;
no wisdom hidden in riddles,
just my own illiterate scribbling
littered with inner criticisms.
#rhyme #writersblock
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— The End —