Quip the Quandary: Poems

Quip the Quandary May 2015

You were right to call our love
"like the movies"
for you played me until the very end.
You were selfish thinking you'd be
the only one to view me entirely.
Frame by frame you sought to memorize me so
did you think by this you were entitled to win
the golden statue of a man
the notoriety
the glory
when your greatest story ever told was
left reeling on the screen?
There was static noise,
There was darkness,
And then there was a click.
The new projectionist added his own film strip,
and gave my greatest flop a sequel.
Without you in a single frame,
It's now a love story most
cinematically quintessential.

I wrote this one night in the absolute pit of my heartbreak kind of hoping someone would come along to fill the shoes of the "projectionist" and by the grace of God, one did. I hope.

#maystillbetoosoontotell

Benedictus que venit in nomine veritatis*

Quip the Quandary Feb 2015

Benedictus que venit in nomine veritatis*

I'm not here to leave a legendary impression,
these poems are merely syntactical confession,
and if you find in your own personal expression,
the mutual feels from the scheme of grand depression,
felicitation, aggression, commiseration, obsession
all of the above, et cetera, the thorough digression,
glory will be given to the one in succession
of the ethereal destination we hold in compression
with the wordly oppression and greedy possession,
without further ado and much indiscretion,
tis time now to reflect upon my next spiritual transgression.

*Welcome to those who come in the name of truth

#orsomething #teamyawheh

be wary of the caterpillars

Quip the Quandary Feb 2015

be wary of the caterpillars

The veins in my heart,
rooted down to my stomach,
and from these roots began to grow a tree,
and on its branches caterpillars did roam
right there in my stomach,
they made their home.
yet I was alone.

Enter the lumberjack.
The caterpillars cocooned,
ready to begin the transformation
from girl to woman, oh, the sensation!

Time ticked on,
the lumberjack and I,
with that little spark in our eye,
from the tree, grew a garden, into woods
our love resounding above the forest canopy
the feral instincts, the cinders, the shade
until finally the Sun no longer shone
so the wall of qualms had to go,
in the form of trees,
one by one.
chopped.

Yet.
the wildfires had sparked
and the cocoons were now butterflies
and the forest we grew together was ablaze
what he didn't chop, my cinders singed,
ash by ash life was ceasing to be,
and then from the woods,
were we forced to flee.

and the butterflies flew free
the blossoms,
the trees,
burned

but the butterflies flew free,
in my stomach,
they are free

so now a bit of our dead forest lives in me.

well folks, this is what happens when you let your romance shade you from the light of the heavenly father.
I do not believe this is our final farewell,
but should it be,
at least we will still carry some of each other's ''good''

#sigh

hereditary recycling

Quip the Quandary Sep 2015

hereditary recycling

I was someone's child once,
I played their mind games,
I took all the spankings,
I watched all the hollering matches,
I even took some hits.
I told myself when I was a mom,
I would never do these things,
but then I had my baby and
I lost my mind one day when
he reminded me of someone I knew
I thought it was my mother but,
I realized it was me.
This is where the cycle ends,
to this I guarantee.

I fear love to be the same.

Quip the Quandary Dec 2015

I fear love to be the same.

Pain is the ultimate paradox.
It's like we know something hurts,
so it would best be avoided,
but after the pain wears off,
and when the memory of it begins to fade,
it is like we go back to that pain and question it like
"What about this made it hurt so much?"
Surely, it can not be so bad if I managed to survive.
Then we remember.
but only when we've let ourselves get hurt that way again,
and you would think that's where the cycle ends
but it too will fade,
the pain. and then the memory.
why do we refuse to remember to stay away?

I fear love to be the same.

if you are mine

Quip the Quandary Dec 2015

if you are mine

than why do I have to work so hard for attention?
at least give me some direction, oh love
I don't know where to find it,
if anything it's where my emotions dwell
anytime I feel any thing, at all,
you're there.
And I just can't control it.
I go wherever my feelings take me.

Give me direction,
so I can find you on my own,
knowing you'll be there,
because right now I feel alone,
in all of this,
you're so mysterious,
and i'm delirius indeed,

you melt my stony soul into
a puddle made of pearls and honeydew
that was my attempt at poetic connection,

if you are mine,
please make it obvious to me,
I don't long for that path right now of self discovery,
just please love,
reveal your true feelings to me
because when I feel you, I'll find you,
and we will be eachother's,
guaranteed.

I don't know how to describe love. I am in a really strange state in my relationship right now. We love each other, but he doesn't make it painfully obvious. Why do I need that kind of assurance?

just shut up and read already

Quip the Quandary Feb 2015

just shut up and read already

You know what would look great on the library wall?
Maybe, perhaps, a wrecking ball.
Who needs real books when we have the internet and e-readers?
Who needs live action plays when we have movie theaters?
Are you wondering why there isn't any shade in the park?
We needed to fill the playground with shavings of bark.
Who needs ideas when we have technological omnipotence?
Who needs a savior when we can be saved by our ignorance?

If you're shaking your head, let it be in a mirror,
until the mantra of this generation becomes clearer and clearer.
Consume. Materialize. Deceive. Repeat.
Gain it all for ourselves, it's Mother Nature's treat!
You don't have to believe our intent is for peace or procreation,
in order to confess you've contributed to the world's condemnation.
We were made to be stewards and by sharing, will thrive
if not in this world where the fittest [and fakest] survive.

as I post this on the internet, ha .
well played.

#please #nowreadabook #imguiltytoo

not all heroes need a bang

Quip the Quandary Mar 2015

not all heroes need a bang

You don't have to pull the trigger.

     What He has planned for you
                          is so much bigger.

                Than the lies
                     resentful whys
                      the failed tries
                                     open ended goodbyes
                                              certain persons you despise
                                         whether it's someone else
                                                                                               or inside yourself,
Put that gun back on the shelf.
Until you feel empowered again,
I know your strength is nulled,
if you want that much power in your own hand,
at least take out the bullets than,
That will liberate you, won't it?
This helplessness you feel subsides,
adjust your sights correctly you will find,
down the barrel of a gun is where the enemy hides.
Now before your heart joins the loss of your mind,
Open your eyes and unwind,

unload the gun and walk away
you can save a life today

even if it's your own.

I wish I could be more convincing. I know time is of the essence. How does one negotiate someone's life with few words? So short of time?

reflect

Quip the Quandary Feb 2015

reflect

The words spoken in silence,
are the loudest to the soul.
Tis free to cross the bridge of recovery
yet we've paid the highest toll.
If you want to be free of yourself
then let go of the demons that bind your mind
somewhere deep inside resides
your true self
on the shelf
and in the mirror do you find
the product of this generation and the one prior
present day our souls are for hire
but here in your written ballad we discover
perhaps your mind is undercover
the real you is atop the smoggy mist
that covers the industrial forest
Welcome to my hiding place
the freer you are the higher you fly
carrying weight keeps you out of the sky
planes are heavy and they carry a load
you and I can stay here
like jets we will leave a trace
to carry us home
a saving grace.

she saw red

Quip the Quandary Feb 2015

she saw red

the color of her lipstick
the color of the alleyway
the color of his knuckles when she showed signs of struggle
the color of the pavement
the color of the ambulance light
the color of her maternity dress
the color of her baby's hair
the color of the roses they set beside her coffin

she saw red--
the color of Love.

this poem was written to expose the haunting realities of many innocent **** victims, those who have been impregnated and keep it, and those who die from STDs.

#slightly #autobiographical

the real use for airport scales

Quip the Quandary Feb 2015

the real use for airport scales

she put her baggage on the scale at the airport
and the assistant said it was too heavy,
so she missed her flight,
and back home she went to try once more
to fit some things inside the closet she shared
with her husband who was unprepared
to see her come back through the door
for his greatest skeleton was lying on the floor
the other woman that kept the closet full
"that's why this bag is much heavier than before."
so she left it with him.

I'm sure this can relate to males, as well.

#adultery

to Him

Quip the Quandary Apr 2015

to Him

If you saw a hundred dollar bill on the ground
and there was not a person around
wouldn't you claim it as your own?
See you'd pick it up because of its worth
or at least the potential it could have right?
So when ever you're let go
Or d
     r
     o
     p
     p
     e
     d
Even if you feel about as valuable as a penny
Someone will need you.
Someone will find you.
And by the grace of God
you will be reminded that unlike money
unlike jewels or any other bartered goods
you were, are, and always will be a treasure
to Him.

Patience, patience, patience

#wine #good #*** #like

tongue on a frozen pole

Quip the Quandary Aug 2017

tongue on a frozen pole

I have been reaching out and you
finally gave me some fingers to cling to,
but you were the same, cold condescending ***
that you left me as.

You could have been cordial
my old friend just once more,
because I already knew what the outcome would be,
you'd go back to Her
and go back to ignoring me
because this is how it has to be.

But still you chose to be cold and devoid.

That's fine,
but this is the last time.

I hope you said everything you wanted to say.
I hope when your words thaw, your burn marks do not stay.
because the bridge is already burning,
and I've already paid the toll.

So goodbye for the last time.
Why did you have to be so cold?

Honestly, I chose to limit the euphemisms and metaphors in this and be straightforward. The person this poem is directed at was my everything for a while, and I didn't want to invest too much time in a poem he'll never read, nawimsayin?

#cheaters #lovers #outlets

truth-(a haiku)

Quip the Quandary Feb 2015

truth-(a haiku)

we have a design
therefore lives a designer
and we call him God.

I used to have an account on HP but I wanted to start afresh. This was one of the poems I decided to carry with me though, because it's so simple but encompasses something at the very fiber of mine and many others' souls.

— The End —