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Jul 2012 · 871
Poet
Alyse M King Jul 2012
Please assume the assumption
I might possess poor word choices.
Clichés and Redundancies
A must while
Buzzing Metaphors
Echo around your head
Reverberating nouns
Excuse me
While I replay my loves
Like Romeo and Juliet,
How It Should Have Been’s,
Turned Tragic Ending.
Two cups Darjeeling
Makes a meal
With untouched coffee
The likes of which drain
My sanity at this hour
Is maybe abnormally
Low leveled or flat lined
Just below that one place,
You know the one,
On the way out of town
If you cross the Bridge of Hope
You’ve gone too far
And if and when
The memories turn
Rolling through the lost
Darkened corridors
Remember that tonight
You will not fear the dark
Or it’s all encompassing
Lack of glow
I wonder off the deep end
To lie by your smell
Swirling shower steam
Kaleidoscopes neurons
Twisting just enough to ache
In that small pocket spot
My soul saved for you
Before the time
Of any rational thought
Warping paragraphs
In a most pitiful attempt
To explain the unseen
All dances out
Across pages
Cryptically bound
By poetry
Apr 2012 · 136
Sour Consonants
Alyse M King Apr 2012
At night,
I paint my secrets
Lemon and Cobalt:
Sour for the flavor,
Sharp consonants
For the pain.
Hoping
When they mix
They form a shade
Green as growth,
And bright
as day.
Mar 2012 · 6.0k
Superhero
Alyse M King Mar 2012
Last night I dreamed
My life as a comic book.
An intermingled mess,
Those who have not read
Every single issue,
Cannot begin to know.
A brightly colored spectrum
Of unexpected blows.
Amidst all the villian’s
Unrelenting throws
Of powers no more
Than planting
The seeds of self doubt,
I stood armed to fall.
As each seed landed
Upon  my head,
I fell to watch
Each punch line
Read only
“Bam!”
and “Kapow!”.
The plot never thickened
And never came to save me.
In a story
from the villan’s head,
Perpetually trapped
Until the hero returned
to write her portion
of my tale.
As the seeds grew
Into absolute fear,
A twisted feeling
Took hold of my gut.
Who is the antagonist
and who the protagonist?
Mar 2012 · 607
Writer’s Block
Alyse M King Mar 2012
Words do not appeal
Though I know how well they heal.
Searching for some sedation
For this lack of inspiration;
A crucial sense of thought
Seems something I haven’t got.
A blur and a whirl of sound,
Idling ‘round and ‘round,
Lost for what to say
With little to display.
So I scrounge and search
To muster a tiny lurch;
I lunge in any direction,
Searching for the connection
Between what is real
And how I feel.
Mar 2012 · 843
...
Alyse M King Mar 2012
...
when do we lose our childlike enthusiasm?
where did we drop the need for fresh air and imagination
while picking up habits and challenges?

trees to climb
swings to grasp
sunrays to catch

when do we lose the ability to be oblivious?
when do we start to notice the dirt and stink
instead of the light and amusement?

how easily we are trained to despise
   bugs, snow, ***** dishes and dusty living rooms.
things once enjoyed or unseen
   attack the mind from immeasurable angles.

when does a sense of lost time begin?
where did we lose a sense of inner peace and simply being
in the panic of a lost day?

errands to run
houses to clean
lost sleep to find

when do we learn to draw the lines of priorities?
when do we start to feel exhaustion and ache
instead of exhilaration and glee?

how simple things turn complicated and unmanageable
   cars, work, insurance quotes and bank statements.
things now necessary to progress
   are dead weight with pounds of options.

when do we come to know bitter as more than a flavor?
when do we start to understand deep regret and sorrow
instead of apologies and accidents?

lovers to spite
tears to banish
mishaps to unravel

when do we decide to settle?
when do we lose the desire to dream and achieve
only to replace it with fear and mediocrity?

how suddenly our lives come to as good as it gets
   the job, the house, the spouse.
things sought for reasons truly unknown
    buried in twisted responsibilities.

weight to lose
wrinkles to remove
aging to face

When do we begin to grow old?
Mar 2012 · 713
Good Morning
Alyse M King Mar 2012
The hot, burnt coffee scorches my tongue
A fair warning-
That pink, fleshy appendage serves to remind me
However much I enjoy something
If I don't pay attention
It might jump at the chance to bite me.
Mar 2012 · 792
Laundry Day
Alyse M King Mar 2012
Dancing in the sullied public laundry room
A young woman
Is she a glow or is she smiling,
With her mind astray?

A parking lot ****** observes
Expressionless,
Unsure of her intent.
Is she dancing in euphoria
Or is dancing to create her vivacity?
Is this bliss or is this gloom
Manifested in the same way?

Neither dancer nor examiner can be certain
Is she dancing
In happiness or simply to push
Her demons away?
Mar 2012 · 495
Grey
Alyse M King Mar 2012
You are every shade of grey
Visible on the fifth cloudy winter day
I wish it was as simply black and white
As the day is bright
And the night is dark
But in the light
I struggle and fight
Not to look behind
At snow glowing
ready to blind
And in the nightfall
I cannot see it all
Illuminated despite
The headlights beaming bright
I know it is my only
Line of sight.
Mar 2012 · 1.4k
Forgotten Toolbox
Alyse M King Mar 2012
An ingenuine smile
aspartame sweet
aloof with loose leaf lonely

A tinny tune
echoing aloud
pinched with bleached blue sleep

An invaluable sore
useful aches
shredded with angry desire

A stolen smoke
swirling clean
backward with unruly peace

An envious shake
frozen steady
breaking with flooding fur

A sigular collection of emotion
hand built
abandoned with friendly pain
Mar 2012 · 537
(Alone Again)
Alyse M King Mar 2012
for some reason
tonight
I picked to leave
(alone again)
when I most need
your company
and praise
I cannot handle
the tepid pink liquid
that lubricates
your already
broken mind
while I sit
helplessly watching
(alone again)
you drown your pain
until it's corpse floats
to the surface
and slowly eats your heart
while I search for reasons
why I picked tonight
to leave you
(alone again)
though I cannot help
wondering if maybe
it wouldn't be so bad
just to be left
(alone again)
like a scab to heal
without being picked
while you ponder how
we never healed before
when each time
we needed each other
we just left
(alone again)
Mar 2012 · 1.1k
Moat
Alyse M King Mar 2012
The moat was built to flood
Like a boychild that built his castle
To be destroyed by his whim
Controlled by the waves of emotion
And I am the tower
Crumbling beneath the forces
Of controlled nature
Like all mankind likes to believe
He can wield the sword of passion
To control
When he does not even understand
What makes it grow
But I am the tower
Built with the intent to let fall
Under a force you believe you can control
And I am left wondering
Why I allow myself to be such
Like sand
Malleable and weak
Yet everlasting in its sound
And
Still
you wonder why
I choose to try
To be like a stone.
Mar 2012 · 687
Damned
Alyse M King Mar 2012
As the great Van Gogh said,
“I wish they would only take me as I am”
These words fill my head
As I realize I am ******.

For my strange, untrained soul
Does not struggle intensely
Trying to love as a whole;
Blind to its own propensity
To seek perfection and impossibilities.

I will remain entirely unaltered.
My heart cannot lie so hard
To pretend to love entirely unbothered.
And I will not drop my guard,
Lest to be left and hindered.

My hopeful ignorance assumes
That this is readily understood.
But when reality resumes,
I already knew no other soul could
Perceive and grasp this certain kind of doom.

Before I come completely undone,
I seek to reconcile my poignant mistake.
I’m only packing for my own sake
When turn my lonesome self around and run.

And so I am ******
As the only thing
That I can bring
Is me, as I am.
Mar 2012 · 710
Fix
Alyse M King Mar 2012
Fix
You won’t answer my calls again.
Not that I had anything important to say, anyway,
I just wanted to feed off your voice,
For procrastination’s sake,
To use you as a way to excuse myself,
From that which I know I should do.

You will show up here tomorrow,
After dark,
To feed me excuses as if they were medicine,
Able to make me forget the way
You’re going to use me,
To forget your own whirlwind of problems.

Then we will embrace each other,
Like we’ve found something
We’ve looked for so long,
That we cannot let go.

Only to drift apart while dreaming,
To opposites sides of my bed,
Back to back,
Until the sun comes up,
When we realize we’ve filled ourselves full
With more complaints,
And need another fix.


Another dose of each other’s medicine,
To forget that which we will not tell.
I did not want to wait for tomorrow,
Tonight I needed a dose so big,
It would extinguish all of it,
Every fire in my soul,
Just long enough to postpone
The decisions I’ve already made.

But you don’t have any for me tonight,
You’re fresh out.
But tomorrow I will feed you a dose so potent,
It will sedate us both in one kiss.
Into oblivion we go, my love.
Holding hands around our drug,
That we’ve somehow convinced ourselves
Might be love.
Mar 2012 · 888
Fog
Alyse M King Mar 2012
Fog
Her solitude creeps
Along the early morning glow.

She sighs,
Solicitude leaking from the sky.

Her wisped hands
seek out companionship.

She whispers;
Words carry a shiver up your spine.

Her voice
Writes invisible sounds.

She is still searching,
Loveless and alone.

Her heart
Stifles hateful tears.

Her trepidation
Takes over.

She retreats,
away from the glow.
Mar 2012 · 690
Thoughts of a Hope
Alyse M King Mar 2012
A blank page                                                             ­       
Plain and perfect                                                          ­      
No mistakes-No anything                                                
Yet unable to fight                                                            ­  
inevitable change
Smears of red
and graphite difference
from blanche to raincloud to blood

Tears stain clear
the thoughts of a hope
that cannot perish
by cause of anything mortal

Young silent scream
void of identity
spills like the crimson of martyrs
chance to make a change
forever trapped inside that page
no matter the cause of perile

Your sight does not fail you
so you take pity
open your heart
from the ironbox of petrified time
and share the fear
to save my sanity

A saturated page
purely flawed
mistakes in everything
overtaken in the fight
by inevitable change
smudges of red
and graphite difference
blanche and raincloud and blood
clear coat of tears
that saved
the thoughts of a hope
that cannot perish
Feb 2012 · 730
The Tempest
Alyse M King Feb 2012
The dried stems of strawberries
scattered on the ground by wind,
reminds me of anxious spiders
scurrying away from an iridescent sunset
towards the welcoming cackle of fanatical frogs.
A sudden gasp of headstrong wind
exposes the **** skin at the base of my neck
and drives anticipation under my bones.
A gray tempest approaches
among her cluster of comrades,
superiority and anguish unmatched,
face stretched ugly and tense
with the weight of countless tears.
Impatience dilutes me
as visions of an electric sky
blending irregularly with the astounding sounds
of a weeping cloud to a drunken landscape,
allow me to find tranquility and solace.
A peacefully tense rest for all
but the writhing tempest.
Feb 2012 · 1.1k
What It Cannot See
Alyse M King Feb 2012
I hope pain rattles you clean
And silence burns your soul.
May anger shake your bones
And anxiety startle your breath,
While guilt tears your gut
And sorrow eats your mind.
When obligation dissolves your desire
And despair sinks into your core,
Then you might know the depths of this torture.
For your heart does not believe what it cannot see
And it is blind to me
Feb 2012 · 772
Gorged
Alyse M King Feb 2012
My tear gorged head aches
with the thrashings of the day
misjudged and downcast emotions
re-saturate me with fury
disputes risen from a simple question
threaten my scar tissue sanity
that echoes my unseen thoughts.
But those who seek me
make use of the assumption
there is nothing else to look for
finally leaving me at peace
to exhaust even the time
with disordered reflections
of my tear gorged head.

— The End —