#rambling poems on Hello Poetry

wulfhug27 Jul 2014

If I extend a paw,
my toes would separate, and I would admire the webs betwinx my pink pads. I would glance at them, with large light green eyes --
moistened and glistening from my tears.
I would be sad.
So feathered down, like a ghost goose whose body was given to flames.
Roasted and seasoned to bless the bellies of hungry children. Selfish, foolish children.
I would not bring my skull to motion
and only twist my heavy living frame.
Simply, stretch this paw of mine farther out.
Giving my body to sensations. To relaxations.
These muscles unaware of their tightness, their knots.
And when all doing so, all senses would fairly appreciate...
granting me with gentle gratuitous pleasure.
Now, out ahead my cold paw remains,
this rugged elongated snout of mine shut.
When my whiskers turn and my nose acknowledges the odor the breeze lends, the sweat being stolen from my now frozen paw, aching to return into the warmer-haven against my chest.
To return and meld
into my fur just like all the rest. I shiver curled against myself, 3 paws touch one another, safe. My entirety lain to one side. One eye to the sky the other to the dust.
The other facing the dusk
that surrounds me, much as time does. And faintly I breath. It is the only thing I notice. A blank mind does not notice much but what is closest.
My life still going.
My lungs still pulling,
heart still beating,
blood pulsing,
fluids slipping down my throat, through my veins.
Function-- normal.
The disarray has left me empty,
tail tucked in time, in space, one that pushes steady forward.
No one has the power to halt it. Nothing has the power to stop
neither this heart nor mind from crying out its faith..
I am blank........... but still
..active still..
Twitching a tail out limp
against the ground it flickers and flags.
Sway against the air it does, swaying for my soul.
Why does it idle? How long has it been? I cannot know any longer,
no-one can.

Just sharing things from my blue leather journal.
I'd written this a few months back. I wasn't going to share it but here. Perhaps I should copyright protect my stuffff. And yes, it implies what you think it implies.
-sigh-
Enjoy

#feelings #depression #sadness #empty #thoughts #sorrow #story #wolf #rambling #emtions

wulfhug27 Jul 2014

It isnt Fair.

there Is a pain I feel that cannot be licked clean by fields of grass or pockets full of money
a Pain that i cannot glean from which way it was fathomed
'fore it strike me
'fore it disgrace my face with twists and hate and liquids
it does so without out grace, and lacking hesitation
but patience
it grows in me
it drinks me up
it tastes me slowly.
i'm Eaten by this pain each and every-wake
will it take for my own wake
for it to go away?

the foreigner has settled
deep within my bones
again, its always in my bones
my bones are somehow home
and seeping up every-while
its drinks upon my soul
like a ******* vampire
and ire grows
it grows right beside the sadness
when will it end?
when will I ever see myself again?
why is everyeone depressed?
why?
it isnt fair.

It isnt fair. Stupid rambling. My depression is taking away my ability to write poems too... oh no.

#poem #depression #rambling

alice Jun 2014

09.27.12 - stream of consciousness

I take comfort in the familiarity
of it all.
The constant madness;
ringing bells and sounding alarms.

I've seen a lot of things.
I know a lot of things.

I'm a different type of person
than I used to be.

I've seen a woman steal my heart;
watched her love:
F L E E T I N G
She loves you today,
him tomorrow.

The melody strikes the match
and the fire rages on.
Unbeknownst.
Without awares.

I've heard the words:
"Is this too intense for you,
it's okay if it is."
and I've answered:
"...it is,
do it anyway."

The 15 year old girl
on the couch
is high
on her dad's methadone.
I'm withdrawling
and hating her;
insane with abandon.

I've felt a needle puncture
the skin;
watched the snake
appear
and
disappear
into myself.

I am another yourself.
We are
One.

You and Me
we are the same,
different eyes
different lungs
but we share a
soul.

I've learned how to make a fist
and pump it
with a jumprope tied
round my arm.

These things are not useful.
They will not bring you
great fortune.
They are the wasted
thoughts
ideas
and journeys
of my youth.

I've been given another chance.
Not a second one,
just another one.
After being purple;
lifeless;
was the greatest hit
of all.

Sick and sad inside
she slumps against the
hallway
wall.
Feeling nothing
after crying for hours
she finds resolve
in the insults
inside her head.

I take comfort in the familiarity of it all
writing like stories
have no end
as if all the pieces
fit together.

The reality is
they don't.

Hope begets Grace
and Grace is what leads
us through this battle;
Life.

I've seen a lot of things.
I know a lot of things.
They are not useful
but

they are mine.

my mind will at times unexpectedly bubble and spill over without warning or explanation. this is an example of one such time.

#madness #streamofconsciousness #freestyle #mania #musings #rambling #092712 #norules

Matthew May 2014

Gift of Gab

She gives the gift of gab!

When her love snapped onto my back, like a rucksack to be worn
The old me died, a rambling man was born.

My words are playing a twisted game of Temple Run
The monkeys are her eyebrows, cocked like pistols, and we're playing Russian Roulette.

My words are emptiness and hot air and imagined shapes, yet not nearly as two-dimensional as constellations.

She's a phrase I just learned, and will incorrectly overuse.
She's a worm in my ear, impossible to lose.

She feels like two cups of tea at three in the morning.
She feels like assembling an RC car without reading the instruction manual.

And by God, those eyebrows.

I need her like rocks need water and snow needs the sun.
I want her like turtles want to fly and eagles want to run.

She's that feeling when rain comes down on an empty highway.
She's half a bottle of Elmer's glue I just dribbled onto my hands.

I miss her like broken bowls miss Cheerios and holey socks miss feet.
I miss her like diarrhea misses constipation.
I miss her like NBC misses viewers who have turned to online news sources.
I miss her like journalists miss exposés.
I miss her like polar bears miss ice caps.
I miss her like avalanches miss snowy peaks.
I miss her like Hiroshima survivors miss World War One.
I miss her like cities miss silence.

Mostly, I just miss the silence.

#love #running #speech #flirting #gift #talking #rambling #gab

KNOWER May 2014

A Winter's Night

In a tavern up yonder, on a hill painted white
Many sought their refuge from the chilly, winter's night
The powdery flakes, lighter than feathers
Made their descent, dulling the weather

As the inn-keeper fed logs to the fire,
Recalled to memory was the glare of a pyre
With wispy tongues swaying ever-so-bashfully,
A brilliant radiance painted the pub beautifully

Barrel after barrel lined the barman's counter
Spewing wine which fuelled the noisy banter
Embracing a lute, a bard did passionately sing
Of life, and of love, and of every weighty thing

And danced they did to "The Piper's Tune"...
With tumblers full, they drank to the moon

This short poem is as a result of a random bout of inspiration which came about as I was reading Asterix. :)

My favourite character in the series is most definitely Vitalstatistix, the chief Gaul.

"Why?" :?

Well I thought you'd never ask! :)

Simple, because of his cool, auburn moustache
and also because of his irrational fear of "THE SKY FALLING DOWN on his head"! (Talk about crazy! His paranoid frenzies surely do get me laughing... HARD! :)

Though come to think of it, I guess his fear probably isn't irrational afterall! (Operative word here is 'probably').

I mean, granted that Jay Sean acknowledged the possibility of Vitalstatistix's fear of 'the sky falling' in his song "Down"
(And I quote:
"... even if the sky is falling down...")
There has to be some truth/rationale to his fear, I guess.

Not to mention the latest film in the Bond series: "SKY FALL" (odd title, don't you think?... well, the chief Gaul wouldn't think it odd!)

The British - more specifically "Bond, James Bond" (pardon me, I just had to! :p) - have alot of credibility (though I honestly don't know who gave it to them).

So, if they (i.e. the British) make any allusion to "the sky falling", then there has to be something to it! (Period!)
(Well, more like 'exclamation mark' although "period" sounds more lively so:
"PERIOD!... astral-projecting a log")
:? xp :p :)

AFTER-THOUGHT:
(I'll be ******! Jay Sean is British! Who would have thought?!...
...ummm... Jay Sean? Or his relatives... or his friends... pretty much anyone who knows the man :p )

Now, if you're kind enough, this is the part where you recommend a psychiatrist. Better make them two
(because one just wouldn't do!)

:p :)

I hope you enjoy(ed)!

#winter #insanity #snow #rambling #digression #asterix #skyfalling #xp

Kyle Kulseth May 2014

Dear Old Uncle Daedalus

Our old uncle, Daedalus,
     he'd grin when he spoke to us
His mouth was missing teeth
and so his wisdom flowed out free
He always smelled of cheap cigars
     alleyways and corner bars
He'd tell us he had seen the world
     and this was his decree:

     "Don't fly too high, you little *****.
       You just might live to pay for it.
       The Sun is always hot,
       the ground gets harder every day."

"But, Daedalus," we would complain,
"You are old and we would fain
see the sights you saw before
          we sleep beneath the clay."

And dear old Uncle Daedalus
     he'd laugh and spit and swear at us
"You ******* little ***** had better
heed the tale I tell.
This life is one big ******* maze
with twists and turns and tricks to play.
The kings control the monsters,
who make Earth a living Hell."

We'd try to listen, try to thank
him for the words, but his breath stank
and, anyway, we thought that he
               had prob'ly **** himself

But dear old Uncle Daedalus
hung Death from lips that spoke to us
and ****** if he weren't right
about the things he always said:
"Inventiveness works, by and by
with daring, you may taunt the sky
                                   like I did
                                  but the fall is long--
my dreams and son are dead."

He always smelled of cheap cigars
     alleyways and corner bars
"You ******* little ***** had better
heed the tale I tell..."

"Don't fly too high, you little *****.
You just might live to pay for it.
The kings control the monsters,
who make Earth a living Hell."