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May 2016 · 438
Japan
Cole Nubson May 2016
Death hot and cold bites at my lips
The tremble in my leg as I stare at the floor
I cannot remember when my core was eradicated
But I can remember how it made me feel

More so I remember how it made others feel
and in their eyes that's all there is to it.
As if it were selfish that I slipped and fell
And now I have a broken foot that I cannot recover from

I could attempt to say something bold
Like that I love you.
Or that my plan will work out in the end.
But I cannot make up my mind.

All they gift is their apology.
They didn't do anything wrong.
Why are they sorry?
They shouldn't be sorry.

I ***** profuse
on my bed sheets
alone at night in my mind
I fall asleep comfortably bleeding

I ***** when I wake up
and a fog horn goes off
Someone wet the bed.
It was me

I drool upon my car horn
Someone cut me off, me
Someone, cut me off, me
Someone cut me, off me

I climb a tree in the forest
density holds me safe
The branch is broken
and the wind starts to shift

I made a crutch from the lumber
As I seeped through the air
And I lept from my tired eyes
on to layers of pine needles

Beams of light seperate my brain from my mind
I cannot turn off the light because of what's inside
Bees fly in to pollinate me, they sting me simultaneous
How was I supposed to recognize a wasp

Yellow and black look the same to me
Both acidic and both crucify me
crunch down the subdued pain
of running that hasn't ever stopped

I could take a breath
and realize how far I have fallen behind
Or I could keep stabbing myself
Until something comes of it.

Will something come of it?
I ask this God, then the next
I respect a good intention
but I cannot agree or comply

Im addicted to telling you things I shouldnt
Despite making me feel incomprehensibly insane
I am tied to a tree and unable to fly
So I am a sick dog who barks at all strangers

Strange that I act alone
When I have so much on my half
But my half is only a fraction of theirs
and theirs but a sliver of the earth.

Darkness owns the other half
the physical entity of space
You cannot light up one side
without darkening the other

So when a comet burns down to earth
I cannot help but notice what it's left
A consummation of being the brightest of dark things
but the darkest of light

I cannot speak like I used to
I cannot cheat myself of a new thought
Because as much as I've felt like this before
I've never felt quite so harrowed and shrouded

I am clean, wrist deep in mahogany
But yet I am lost and mopped up by a pigeon
I picked out my own innards and laughed
My lungs are not yellow and my heart is not black

My lungs were pink and my heart was raw
But now that it's out I cannot replace
nor can I face anyone to operate
I'm drunk and stumbling to the morgue
Mar 2015 · 826
Rosewater: Part II
Cole Nubson Mar 2015
A lily pad over the humble
Stringing through my veins
the willow filling down to tumble
fighting through the stains.
Mar 2015 · 573
temperament
Cole Nubson Mar 2015
The field gray
The grain stay

A white dress upon the grass
Silver lines drop down the glass

A small hustle to the house
A tiny trouble that leaves the mouth

The scorch without a scorn
now the wake, how she forlorn
Mar 2015 · 757
Magpie
Cole Nubson Mar 2015
miss the smell of your hair
Gondola, swings, no final fare.

Well I think it's in-genuine
But genuinely I miss the scent of sin.

Serenity in the the trace of tires
Skidding, softly to the suns fires.

Where parasites would've given up
Divine is dinner is not enough.

Breakfast at four to carry us down
The sound of a left desire begins to compound.
Feb 2015 · 935
(M)elancholic (M)esmerized
Cole Nubson Feb 2015
Vincent Van Gogh forlorn
weep, welding minds' pretense
the past, in present form

longing for my answers
in the blood crescent shaped
lies sentiment cancers

cross eyes on the belt loop
you're twirling and twirling
it will melt like your hoop

under the umbrella
is there something i missed
the wind it propels us
so we're lost in our bliss.
Jan 2015 · 572
Marrow
Cole Nubson Jan 2015
So many things fall like lumber
what am I to do
I forget, for-go the rainy slumber

I'm branching, reaching,
falling

It's all home in Michigan
back to the woods
Not room enough for one more sin

You're moving, screaming
dying

You want me to bring you down
"I need to see what's there"
Somewhere deep beneath the ground.

We're sitting, silent,
mourning

Left it all on the record player
Can't believe it's been a year
Wish you'd left a second prayer
It dried out within sincere

Many things do fall like lumber
what am I to do
I forget, for-go the rainy slumber

I'm branching

reaching

falling
Jan 2015 · 584
[B]uda[p]est
Cole Nubson Jan 2015
Father said
He went

Further send
Cement

Honor with it
Extraterrestrial

Horror spinning
no more celestial

You say one
Do it all

The pavement
through the wall

Posture peripheral
white glow

Monster in Montreal
flight show
Dec 2014 · 646
Laces
Cole Nubson Dec 2014
Buckling on the brink of things
Leaves with their bristling

temptress with sulking fiber
mattress of sleeping cider

the inside of us
never left it only stuffed
Dec 2014 · 2.0k
cardinal
Cole Nubson Dec 2014
Blinded, blinding
the sweet aroma
suffering, binding
around your neck

A fear of the fallen under
starts to grow
Need to take cover under
a black eye crow

your mountainous cup
cusp the silhouette
filling it up
rust of the sun

licking the salt
liver and all
I'm ruffling exhaust
burnt in the leather
Dec 2014 · 308
(6w)
Cole Nubson Dec 2014
define
what
you
mean
by
justified
Dec 2014 · 416
Porous
Cole Nubson Dec 2014
My feet are the snow
here walks another lover
I'm crippling slow
out with another stutter
x
I can't count what's lost
with the syllabus syllables
Adventurous the moth
starts to crawl
x
The flair in the fire
frost on the havoc
bodies a nightmare
bruised knees on the floor
x
It's not in my mouth
finding your remedies
are you calling my name
I need to know, I need to know
Dec 2014 · 422
Rosewater: Part I
Cole Nubson Dec 2014
The waves that erode the rocks
And I'm just a feeble stone.
She will never end
My clock is ticking.
Nov 2014 · 348
Another Poem About Crave
Cole Nubson Nov 2014
Your lips are fire under the blanket of tension
The very exhale of my breath and I can't help but smile
there you are laying like the most extraordinary woman would
We're trillions of light years away and I still feel your heat.
Nov 2014 · 1.6k
Snow White
Cole Nubson Nov 2014
We fear the idea of inevitable, so we embrace each other
And I inhale the scent of your coffee stained blouse.
I knew you were the universe and I was a galaxy
And I knew my mind would get lost in your sleep spindles.

The alignment of the sun and moon tore me away from you.
All of your water colors were just components of rain and tears.
The first thing I noticed about you were the band-aids on bruised skin
The second was the sight of you in your coat after the first snow fall.
Oct 2014 · 537
Exoskeleton
Cole Nubson Oct 2014
The barrier between our body breaks the distance.
Buried beneath the yellow bench, my love for your instance.
Your braided hair is blinded by the white moon.
A blurry background filtered, embezzled with a borrowed afternoon.
Oct 2014 · 906
One Heidi
Cole Nubson Oct 2014
Studying her pillow frame
ample signs to take the blame
Neither one keeps marching on
Red stained eyes down by the pond

She said as she refused
Her mind a nightmare, light the fuse
That’s not the way I remember her glow
But that was a couple pounds ago
Sometimes I think about people and write a sentence about them and then turn it into a poem, so most of this is just that.
Oct 2014 · 561
How to fix yourself
Cole Nubson Oct 2014
When given the choice to change something,
Most would choose something physical.
I would choose mental.

I struggle with self-confidence
I struggle with depression and anxiety
I don't wish for a new self.
I wish for a new light to look at myself under.
Oct 2014 · 256
Do you remember
Cole Nubson Oct 2014
When
I
Was
Younger
They
Had
A
Different
Name
For
A
Strike-out.

They
­Called
It
A
"Cole Nubson"

They
Hated
Me
During middle-school I found out through a friend that our schools baseball team called a strike-out a "Cole Nubson". This still sickens me to the core and it's a prominent reason why I hurt so much.
Oct 2014 · 551
My parents
Cole Nubson Oct 2014
The cheater:
This one has definitely caused the most pain on people. But this one is also the most caring and wonderfully accepting person I have ever met. Although they never try to hurt anyone, they often put their own temporary happiness infront of others permanent happiness. This one cheated, and married the person that they cheated with. They soon cheated on that person as well. They are the cheater.

The cheated:
This one is always accusing others of causing pain. This one doesn't understand that the world isn't against them, but it is their own brain that is working against them. This one remarried to someone safe. They bask in their sorrow of little achievement in self-pity. That's all this one is really, self-pity. However, this one is always caring and looking out for their kids, making sure no harm comes their way. It is only after doing this for so long without recognition that they get angered. They are the cheated.

The fallen:
The children. The ones who sat down quietly looking at the floor as battles of blood-spewing screams flew across the room. The ones who smelt the alcohol on the step-parents dark and heavy breath and said nothing. The ones who had to pick sides, pick houses, and pick schools. These are the ones that aren't able to identify with a clear emotion of love. These are the fallen.

And this is my family.
Sep 2014 · 606
Four
Cole Nubson Sep 2014
Leprosy on your skin
Starve your love under the bed
pinch the thumbnail, broken sin
My minds drifting from my head.
Cole Nubson Sep 2014
Happiness is only a word.
It was created to help differentiate
between real smiles and masks.

Direction isn't just forward
It is nothing to elaborate
to miles and tasks.
Jul 2014 · 287
Two Hours
Cole Nubson Jul 2014
Last night was the outcoming,
Of my greatest fear.
I spent an hour alone thinking about it.
I spent an hour filtering past all the things I am afraid of, just to find the greatest one.

It's the mirror that I look in every day
Jul 2014 · 519
Untitled
Cole Nubson Jul 2014
You're the solar system,
There's too much for my feeble eyes to admire.
Each freckle is a galaxy in its own.
Jul 2014 · 635
Novel
Cole Nubson Jul 2014
This is my introduction
The stars shunned the moon.

This is my body
Forget the dimple in my love.

This is my conclusion
Misting water over the sunken ship.
Jul 2014 · 541
Flurry
Cole Nubson Jul 2014
Bodies buried deep
Under the Vatican.
The candle wicker seeps
Through the attic again.

We hear of death
Dripping from the news.
We heard it's breath
Lifting as it flew.

The yellow bird returns
Without waking the neighbors.
With a broken wing he learns
The delicacy in the flavor.
Jul 2014 · 397
Coffee
Cole Nubson Jul 2014
"No, I'll just go home." I respond to an empty question. As my dreary body finds home I notice something has changed.  There is an abundance of the color purple.  I look to where you used to linger. You and all of your yellows. The brightest of them, at that. You left a stain on the floor. You forgot to clean it up. Before I let the mood **** me as usual, I head to my room. Where the scent of you only becomes harsher. I sleep for days. Or something that feels like that. I wake up and set your spot. Make twice the amount of toast I need for myself. Brew twice the amount of coffee. Yet I know you never really liked my blend. It wasn't strong enough for you. I realize you're not coming back. I realize that now I have double the dishes to clean. Double the pillow cases to wash. Double the time to waste. I realize I don't have you. I realize you made me leave that party last night.
Jul 2014 · 458
I gamble
Cole Nubson Jul 2014
Shifting oranges in the ash
Emptiness trails from the crash
Crawl into the dark and find
My hours waiting to unwind

Salty eyes burrowed into skin
Composed love slipping thin
Magnitude of the promise land
The change was filtered in sand
Jul 2014 · 492
Menace
Cole Nubson Jul 2014
I've never found the bright side and
You know that.
And you exploit that.
By showing me all of your creatures and
You love to watch.
And you live out of fear.
Jul 2014 · 322
I forgot
Cole Nubson Jul 2014
The paper filtered the smoke through the room. The fire jumped. I wasn't sure if the tear stained letter would even egnite. It did. As I threw out my goodbye note, thinking no one would read it anyways, I forgot. I forgot about all of the friends who I didn't respond to. All of the smiles my mind passed, searching for the sadness. I forgot that I was the kind of person to pick out the frail tree in a forest of blooming evergreens.
Jul 2014 · 294
My Room (6 word)
Cole Nubson Jul 2014
You
gave
your
scars
to
me
May 2014 · 533
In Honor
Cole Nubson May 2014
Spend the night by my side,
humbled against the slight of my mind.
The rain drying like love,
Bitter feelings are never enough.

The worried scars on my tongue,
Do not clear even when they're wrung.
Although I still fear empty,
You've left me sheltered plenty.

I'm sorry,
I know I have broken the nest,
Hollow birds
Burrowed at top within its rest.

Forgive me,
I will kiss you.
Forgive me,
I will love you.
Forgive me,
I will need you.
Forgive me,
I will bleed through.

My greatest award,
Starts two months ago.
We flutter then soared,
on patience alone.

Forgive us,
We will never see.
Forgive us,
We insist to be.
Forgive us,
We will never flee.

Flourishing.
Waves formed of the salty greed.
Forgive me,
In honor that I've been freed.
Two months of love and greed and something alike in between
Apr 2014 · 332
You
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
You
You
You've been awake for 48 hours
Me
I haven't slept in years.

You
You've been talking lately
Me
I haven't listened to a ******* word

You
You've been painting all of my dreams
Me
I haven't let my mind wander past you.
Apr 2014 · 815
Cinder Clementines
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
I arose to the scent of ashes.
A quick peak out the window and I see the sun.
It's closer to the earth than the moon now.
The giant orb in which it forms watches;
haunting me.
Telling me to come closer.
I shut the blinds and it retaliates.
Bursting from the soft yellow
to charred oranges and blacks,
the beads of sweat between its pores
yelling at me.
The shock in my face that I am playing roulette,
that I am playing with fate, never fades.
And in those few seconds between then and now
I realize that I am in the middle of death.
My life cycle is just another inevitable sorrow,
surrounded by two barriers leading to pain.
So I step back,
From the window sill.
I crawl back into my dreams.
Where the time seems to disperse
at all of my requests.
Referring to a dream I had about an exploded sun. This is in inspired by how it made me feel emotionally and how it played with my sense and knowledge of death being unable to cheat.
Apr 2014 · 375
Glisten (10w)
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
Shadow
covered
hope
filters
through
the
words
of
wandering
lust­
Apr 2014 · 257
Heat (10w)
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
The fire swallows our bodies
                                                               Engulfing the sweet visionary sensation
Apr 2014 · 467
A guide to life
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
Forget
Leave me to wander in colors ranging from purple to black
Encrypt
Put a lock on any contact with the sweetest taste of liquor
Deny
Enrage me with ignoring my last response to the environment
Fight
Spend days on end battling through the need to slip
Die*
Light the worlds fuse to be remembered
Apr 2014 · 439
One up and to the left
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
Growing words like a symphony sound the alarm
I can taste fear on the delicacy of your arm
Do not waste any of your faux charm
Such in impromptu little ******
is that faith you muster
or is it lustered
twisted in sync
to the sound of cuff links
driving to the mountain brink
The one who sits in front of my mind
The back seat of the car meanders behind
I dream that it forgets all the moments of crime
Apr 2014 · 595
Elastic
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
If every night with you feels so exhilarating
Then maybe this is all I need.
Sometimes I find solemness in the concentrating
Yet occasionally I stumble upon devilish greed.

There are moments that could repeat themselves infinitely
And there are wounds that never seem to clot.
As every dream is marked by winding intricacy
The red slips into the laces and patterns in blots.

Days get longer and shadows grow in length
The perfect melody to an everlasting hunger.
Mindless worries leave as misery turns to strength
We are just a compilation of all but less than blunder, at least I wonder.

When I turn around it seems like you forget
That elastic bounces back at the slightest relief
And the wound upon my back starts to admit
Every moment withers along with the movement too brief.
Apr 2014 · 6.3k
Independent
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
If you wreck your own morals you will feel alive
Because people tell us to believe crazy things:
Don't say I love you until you mean it,
But say what you feel or you will bottle your emotions!
Don't beg for *** and only lose your virginity to your one true love,
But if you're still a ****** after high school you're too conservative!
If you don't believe in God you are a satanist,
But only follow his laws when you're sitting under his steeple!
Do what we tell you to,
But be your own person.
We control you,
But consider yourself
Independent.
Apr 2014 · 264
You Don't Need A Reason
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
She stabbed me in the chest
And asked why I was bleeding.
She’ll never let me rest
At the thought of me not sleeping.
Tell me it’s not sweet
To write away my love to you.
And tell me there’s no heat,
when the fireworks turn red to blue.
As if color made the choices
You say you’ll never make,
When there’s nothing left but voices
While you’re lying awake.
Apr 2014 · 312
More Or Less
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
I won’t dream if you don’t want me to.
I swear I’ll stop being a fraction of your life if you so much as whisper the words.
Tell me to let you go and I might wander back up that cliff;
But I cross my heart that you’ll be the last one on my mind.

You might not realize,
but my life doesn't orbit around you.
You may be my gravity, with enough friction to hold me perfectly still,
but without you I am still alive.
A pure shriek of blackness will strike over,
but that’s still a form of reality.
Apr 2014 · 313
Last Night I Flew Away
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
I climbed out the window,
and slowly every sight I was sure of turned into nothing but sound.
There was one thing that my ears caught in particular though.
For the first time in months they caught you gazing,
searching in the sky for our star.
Apr 2014 · 525
The Past Is A Simile
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
Draw a time capsule
Out of words,
So I can go back
To when we spoke.

Paint a rose
Out of my dreams,
So I can smell again
Like when we slept.

Load another bullet
Out of your fear,
So I can feel again
For when we shiver.
Apr 2014 · 745
A Hectic Mind Left Ajar
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
The sharp whistle of winters breath upon my neck
beckons that I turn my head and look back at the foot prints that meander behind.
These complex engravings may share the same code as another individual,
but the trail will never lead to the same place.

As my nape is kissed by death herself
the past is slowly turned over with the fluid motion
that follows my mind through the path of yesterday;
which never seems to fill itself up more than once.

Worthless, it deems itself, as it’s an area that
i’m already proficient with knowledge of.
Though archaeology has proven to dig up
more false statements than any
jury duty has ever rested a decision on.

Suddenly authenticity flutters into my eyes,
with a clear glimpse of my frozen toes and all the glitters that come and go.
This movement of enlightenment occurred
the same instant my mind transferred back to reality, and what lied ahead.
Apr 2014 · 690
Sensory Deprivation
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
Imagine a painting,
but instead of having colors or images
it was filled with emptiness.

When you saw it
all sight and sound were put below
on a hierarchy of needs.

As you reached to
feel the density of the of the canvas, you felt no barrier
between your skin and the air.

Your unknowing contact
with this image upon the barren wall continues to remove
your sense to taste or smell.

Sensory deprivation has been achieved.
You no longer have any feelings except for your thoughts,
which are rendered useless without stimulation.

In the piercing lonesome,
you are left to create new memories in your mind;
Some of them kindle the past.

The majority of them are ideas
that you have never seen before; they can only be described
as works of evil.
Apr 2014 · 804
Poetic Antagonist
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
I grew up to rooting on the underdog,
but turned into the person who crushed them.
I spent countless nights writing poetry about the people I loved
but ended up being labeled the antagonist of the story.
I was the gentle giant who went down his righteous path
but accidentally crushed innocent people along the way.

Some people were born with all the right intentions
but all the wrong characteristics.
A person who hurts another person unknowingly
should still have all the rights of a person who didn't.
Or perhaps that’s backwards,      
Perhaps we really belong in the trash.

Every now and again spawned from this tyranny
is a leader.
A person who is at the top
but feels sorrow and remorse for those they hurt along the way.
A person who won’t stop giving
until they have filled the debt they have created, and then some.

Being an inspiration isn't about optimism
nor is it about knowing just what to say when you are given a chance.
It’s more about living life in a rhythm
not torn and withered after meeting everyone's demands.
Apr 2014 · 525
Kate
Cole Nubson Apr 2014
So **** tired,
But I can not sleep.
Because I won’t be hers,
And I feel so weak
Against what occurs,
Not a word I’ll speak
For I’ll share my heat.
I’ll put her first,
And kiss her cheek.
When she’s her worse
I’ll lift her to the peak.

With infinite knowledge,
And maybe the last dance.
Won’t stop until the law’s abolished,
Not until we can share the same glance.
Love's is a hell of a drug.

— The End —