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CarpestellasPoems
The path is a dusty one, Tin woman. Be careful what you seek Take heed of the love you show and the words of love you speak Feelings are a clouded mirror viewed from a distant smoky peak They’re not for the faint, nor for the cautious, nor for the weak What a wicked mystique Hearts can slowly rust from the rivers of tears that flow in time Smiles become fissured hills too hard to hold, to steep to climb Time’s a thunderous rolling drum, not a gentle bell that chimes Crushing with fearful trembling hands a love free and sublime What a wicked crime How many times have I murdered his love in infancy? So afraid of getting hurt, so scared of what could be My eyes closed so tight in fear that my heart couldn’t see The genuine love from the man standing in front of me What a wicked irony My strongholds were in place with my defenses strong and tall He stormed into my heart like a wolf and devoured them all He destroyed my every hidden place and tore down every wall But the fearful feeling that I’m not enough, caused me to stall What a wicked fall I thought I had shed yesterday like a sloughed skin But I’m wrapped in the carcass of what should’ve been A flower picked before its life could even begin So scared of love’s thorns that I had to pull the pin Such a wicked end Now I pay my dues for love left strangled in the grave The remnant of my failure to be free and to be brave I sit among the ashes of the life and love I could not save My once beating heart is now the darkness that enslaves What a wicked cave I dig deep into the shallow tomb uncovering my faults Buried in the casket of my dreams with the peace I sought Laid to rest with the battles I lost before I even fought Perhaps my falling star was never meant to be caught What a wicked thought Drowned love swims in my veins, with the one I hold so dear Eyes, they lose their luster and ears, they lose the will to hear Souls they quake. Hearts they break. Lovely visions disappear The internal compass ceases to guide. The rudders fail to steer What a wicked fear I sit beneath the darkness among a thousand shining eyes They illuminate my thoughts like pensive twinkling spies A million tiny searchlights contour each corner of my sky Revealing my tender crux of weakness as the pain draws nigh What a wicked outcry Sometimes healing seems impossible and hope falls out of sight Sometimes my heart is buried within the darkness of this life The sun slams shut the windows of my bright and starry night But sometimes…sometimes there’s a tiny beacon of shining light What a wicked delight Even from the cradle of our new budding interchange I felt what I had never felt with each new exchange No longer in a numb stupor, anesthetized and disengaged My apathy fell away, no longer distant and estranged What a wicked change. He’s still the same sweet soul as the boy of my adolescence A smile that lights my world and eyes of bright incandescence Now every vision is blinded by his lingering presence Even the air that surrounds me is touched by his essence Such a wicked omnipresence He wiped away my tears and brought my heart relief My hesitancy was shattered in the face of his belief He robbed me of my sorrow. He stole away my grief Such a strong valiant soul, such a kind and gentle thief What a wicked reprieve He never jabbed the soft and delicate center of my wrongs Instead he held me close and anointed my ears with songs He cradled me in his gentle embrace, right where I belonged He veiled the clouds with his shining stars all the nightlong What a wicked love song What a plan of attack he chose to forever capture my favor With his unexpected prose and his courage that never waivers With a style all his own, a personality with unique flavor With his caresses and his kisses that I came to slowly savor What a wicked quaver As his voice cracked nervously when he first said he loved me The way his embrace covered me in a blanket of sweet serenity The nights have become a dungeon of these trapped memories My heart is confined within its walls, never again to be set free What a wicked destiny Flaws- they claw at the door of daylight, refusing to be ignored They beat, bash, kick and scream, breaking down every door I am greater than my defeats. I am stronger. I am more Than stones flying among shattered glass crashing to the floor What a wicked war So many battles to fight, so many pains pulling me under So many cancerous cells ripping my body and hope asunder I won’t back down in fear from this life or its roaring thunder My soul will not be left for dead, for pillage or for plunder What a wicked wonder I’m so much deeper than a radiant shallow visual perception What lay beneath is so much more profound than perfection You’ll see bruises, ripples of a life lived, upon closer inspection The sea of love shines brilliant upon its surface and reflection What a wicked infection The currents drag me down again every time I reach for air The rising tide seems too high, the heaviness too much to bear I struggle and fight to swim but I have no strength to spare No sign of a lighthouse ahead, deep into the darkness I stare What a wicked snare But I am more than a revenant arising from a mortal fall Each day I climb the canyons that make me feel so small Every day I trample over spaces where once I crawled Each moment I overcome obstacles and break down walls What a wicked brawl I will surge forth into the mysteries of this night without fear I will fight without wavering until my final breath draws near Until I take back what is mine, and every cancer cell disappears This world that tried to destroy me will know that I’m still here What a wicked leap year.
0
Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 7:26 PM UTC
A Wicked Poem
The path is a dusty one, Tin woman. Be careful what you seek Take heed of the love you show and the words of love you speak Feelings are a clouded mirror viewed from a distant smoky peak They’re not for the faint, nor for the cautious, nor for the weak What a wicked mystique Hearts can slowly rust from the rivers of tears that flow in time Smiles become fissured hills too hard to hold, to steep to climb Time’s a thunderous rolling drum, not a gentle bell that chimes Crushing with fearful trembling hands a love free and sublime What a wicked crime How many times have I murdered his love in infancy? So afraid of getting hurt, so scared of what could be My eyes closed so tight in fear that my heart couldn’t see The genuine love from the man standing in front of me What a wicked irony My strongholds were in place with my defenses strong and tall He stormed into my heart like a wolf and devoured them all He destroyed my every hidden place and tore down every wall But the fearful feeling that I’m not enough, caused me to stall What a wicked fall I thought I had shed yesterday like a sloughed skin But I’m wrapped in the carcass of what should’ve been A flower picked before its life could even begin So scared of love’s thorns that I had to pull the pin Such a wicked end Now I pay my dues for love left strangled in the grave The remnant of my failure to be free and to be brave I sit among the ashes of the life and love I could not save My once beating heart is now the darkness that enslaves What a wicked cave I dig deep into the shallow tomb uncovering my faults Buried in the casket of my dreams with the peace I sought Laid to rest with the battles I lost before I even fought Perhaps my falling star was never meant to be caught What a wicked thought Drowned love swims in my veins, with the one I hold so dear Eyes, they lose their luster and ears, they lose the will to hear Souls they quake. Hearts they break. Lovely visions disappear The internal compass ceases to guide. The rudders fail to steer What a wicked fear I sit beneath the darkness among a thousand shining eyes They illuminate my thoughts like pensive twinkling spies A million tiny searchlights contour each corner of my sky Revealing my tender crux of weakness as the pain draws nigh What a wicked outcry Sometimes healing seems impossible and hope falls out of sight Sometimes my heart is buried within the darkness of this life The sun slams shut the windows of my bright and starry night But sometimes…sometimes there’s a tiny beacon of shining light What a wicked delight Even from the cradle of our new budding interchange I felt what I had never felt with each new exchange No longer in a numb stupor, anesthetized and disengaged My apathy fell away, no longer distant and estranged What a wicked change. He’s still the same sweet soul as the boy of my adolescence A smile that lights my world and eyes of bright incandescence Now every vision is blinded by his lingering presence Even the air that surrounds me is touched by his essence Such a wicked omnipresence He wiped away my tears and brought my heart relief My hesitancy was shattered in the face of his belief He robbed me of my sorrow. He stole away my grief Such a strong valiant soul, such a kind and gentle thief What a wicked reprieve He never jabbed the soft and delicate center of my wrongs Instead he held me close and anointed my ears with songs He cradled me in his gentle embrace, right where I belonged He veiled the clouds with his shining stars all the nightlong What a wicked love song What a plan of attack he chose to forever capture my favor With his unexpected prose and his courage that never waivers With a style all his own, a personality with unique flavor With his caresses and his kisses that I came to slowly savor What a wicked quaver As his voice cracked nervously when he first said he loved me The way his embrace covered me in a blanket of sweet serenity The nights have become a dungeon of these trapped memories My heart is confined within its walls, never again to be set free What a wicked destiny Flaws- they claw at the door of daylight, refusing to be ignored They beat, bash, kick and scream, breaking down every door I am greater than my defeats. I am stronger. I am more Than stones flying among shattered glass crashing to the floor What a wicked war So many battles to fight, so many pains pulling me under So many cancerous cells ripping my body and hope asunder I won’t back down in fear from this life or its roaring thunder My soul will not be left for dead, for pillage or for plunder What a wicked wonder I’m so much deeper than a radiant shallow visual perception What lay beneath is so much more profound than perfection You’ll see bruises, ripples of a life lived, upon closer inspection The sea of love shines brilliant upon its surface and reflection What a wicked infection The currents drag me down again every time I reach for air The rising tide seems too high, the heaviness too much to bear I struggle and fight to swim but I have no strength to spare No sign of a lighthouse ahead, deep into the darkness I stare What a wicked snare But I am more than a revenant arising from a mortal fall Each day I climb the canyons that make me feel so small Every day I trample over spaces where once I crawled Each moment I overcome obstacles and break down walls What a wicked brawl I will surge forth into the mysteries of this night without fear I will fight without wavering until my final breath draws near Until I take back what is mine, and every cancer cell disappears This world that tried to destroy me will know that I’m still here What a wicked leap year.
#poem
Carpestellas
Written by
Carpestellas
F/Louisiana
Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 7:26 PM UTC
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