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Debbie Lydon Apr 3
Let us momentarily untangle these social knots,
Let us be the rain in this dangerous drought of dreams,
We are better than those garish gambling slots,
We cannot see life's light in their spurious sunbeams.
LC Oct 2019
he helped me untangle
the knots in my mind
just by being there.
KHY Jan 2019
Unraveling the mystery in her spine
Knots all throughout time
I break it in;
I cave my mark,
I show her how I like to start
EP Robles Sep 2018


when sun ignites
romance's flame
or when two hearts

   a Gordian knot--

oh! so simple, surly not!
tidal waves that crush
the shores of souls!

:: ~~ ::
twisting, curving, knotting, knowing, blowing and cursing life at times is living.
japheth Sep 2018
i’ve tangled with a lot of bodies
after we ended.

i’ve knotted myself with different hearts
pretentiously knowing that this pain i’ve felt could be mended.

i’ve scrambled those ties in my hands and how easy it was for me to un-knot them.

one knot comes in, after a few days, weeks, or sometimes but not often, months, slowly it detangles itself and i leave untangled, unbroken, as if nothing went past these lines on my heart, my body, my lips, like it didn’t happen at all.

i thought those messy tangles i put myself into would be as hard as when we had to untangle ourselves — or just me, i guess — from the oh so short but very sweet time we’ve had together.

but, i was wrong.

i wasn’t left untangled,
i wasn’t unbroken.

i still had a little not, tied in between my heart, body, and lips, which i try so hard not to notice by putting myself out there, messing my own lines up till i catch someone who ends up letting go afterwards.

to you,

we’ve already part ways,

to me,

you barely left.

i wish you could untangle this knot you left.
i wish you could mess with mine again, and probably leave a bigger knot — so obvious that i’d give up trying to fix it.
i wish to see how your soft hands would carefully untie, over then under then pull and stretch, this knot and maybe i could finally figure out that it was so easy that i didn’t even need your help.

but you’re gone.

and i have to accept that.

it’ll take time before this untangles by itself so i’ll just let it be for awhile.

and when someone does come not only to tie their heart with mine,
but also untangle what you had left behind,
then i’ll be fine,
and know that now’s my time.
to the guy who i loved for two short weeks, thank you. i still love you and i’m happy you have found someone who’ll love you just the way you like it.
d Aug 2018
lately //
i’ve been making a noose of my own heartstrings //
but my father is a fisherman who taught me that the best knots don’t slip //
so i carry a bowline in my pocket for security and a tangled mess of forevers on my sleeve.
But I’ve also been tying anchor bends since i realized my grip was not equal to atlas’ shoulders.
And what a cruel paradox that is //
to think that a god can carry the earth beneath our feet but our hands // molded from clay and mud in the same image //could never be enough of a last resort to anchor our hearts in our chests.
so the loophole here,
so to speak,
is the anchor bend knot //
but! //
you know what’s funny about loopholes actually?? // you see, they were made to allow arrows to be shot from an opening // but the structure of that opening prevents counter arrows from being shot back in.
such an invention is why it’s always been nearly impossible to storm a castle’s wall and my, // have many a noble men fallen at the feet of such entrances.
so nowadays, i carry my trusty bowline //alongside the endless loopholes of those old-fashioned anchor bends.
however, I’m sure you know that the bowline is regarded as “the knot of all knots” right? it’s good for tying just about anything without give.
but the first time i ever went sailing // i learned about the round turn and two half hitches. this knot is pretty cool because the more tension you apply to the rope, the tighter the knot will get //
highly reliable for most things.
i guess the irony here is that // i am personally, most identifiable with this knot.
i don’t really ever use it. i am not a sailor or a fishermen. but i do have a really bad tendency of fastening myself to things that have a lot of pull.
the tightening tension of it
is similar to the mythical 13 knots in a hangman’s noose and what an incredibly genius stroke of engineering.
to think that the masterful art of knot-tying comes down to the basic idea that a knot will hold under tension is simply and utterly graceful without fault.
but here’s the thing;
as soon as i learned to tie a knot that won’t slip,
i taught myself the hangman’s knot:
a knot that essentially slips, but still holds merciless tension around its victim.

i’ve been tying nooses with what causes me the most pain.
with what bleeds the most love //
but as the one and only descendant of my father, the great fisher king,
i am starting to learn that if the knot slips,

you cut the line and start again.
Jon Thenes Apr 2018
Reliving and Preliving
may all my signals ghost to sway
Just falter information
i shall be spirited and a weather
A clamour among all my houses
an assault laid upon my understanding
in knots
combing out the fantastic
a floss upon a sea
and not a wound
; Misplaced I shall better be.

and then I breathe
this is no longer to be
I am in practice
; unfooled to better be
KM Hanslik Apr 2018
These things all have the tendency to bleed
into one another;
I spill the contents of me into
every tiny thing that breathes, plant my seeds in
your mouth and watch them grow from
the smallest whispers of "maybe" to the warm
sticky ooze of knowing
what the future holds.
My home is not here, it is drifting
on the horizon somewhere and I think I'll find it when
these tendencies wrap themselves up and I begin
putting pieces in the right places.
I think my purpose has been calling
my name all along, but I didn't recognize the sound until
I took everything softly in my hands and laid it all out the way
it should look, I'm spelling out the new meanings behind
my eyelids and it comes out in vibrant colors that stain
your fingers when you try to grasp them. Late nights are nothing if
what becomes of them is half as beautiful
as this.
My hands may not always know the proper delicacy
that they should, but they know to break open these dreams to grow
new ones,
and I know
how to better hold even the the most
slippery of promises now -
wrap up these worries, I will mute them in
ghostly grays and wrap ribbons
around their boxes. My fingers tie
the knots and I am chasing
new horizons.
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