#clever
Words twist quietly in careful reflective sleep,
letters shed their meaning and rearrange in breath,
meaning forgets its own reflection,
and truth hides in the shuffle of sound and key.
Apr 11
Apr 11, 2026 at 1:18 PM UTC
Your arms, cute legs, and nice smile –
Maybe I’m too late to feel this far, to feel a void,
or is it to _fill a void_— I try to avoid, that hits too close.
But peel away all the labels from your face, living
A little longer in my thoughts before a short-notice;
I’ll be the first to notice the role you played in my life.
Your skin like a KitKat; so for a sweet time,
I’ll break you off a piece of my heart— _that’s a bar._
But some days I’m wrapped up in emotional bars,
These hands outstretched, but arms too short
To hold every direction your thoughts wander to.
But won't you wonder too, how my legs are too thin
To outrun all the quiet decades that shaped you—
But hey, at least I still carry a nice smile.
Sounds so dreadful, visiting for a short time,
Catching those fallen stars in your wet eyes —
Wearing shorts in winter, so our knees can knock,
Two souls knocking too— knees weak; I have seven
Reasons to want you right now, though it’s really
Been a week, since I last seen your cute smile —
_And wish I could keep it for a lifetime._
Dec 3, 2025
Dec 3, 2025 at 4:20 AM UTC
I got so many feelings they leave me reeling, stealing second after second because I’m the first to leave and the last to go, too guarded to believe and too frozen to flow.
Words cut into thirds and still too long to belong but too short to be strong,
I’m not tough I’m all bluff and all guff I know stuff but not enough
Hands cuffed and shoes scuffed I’m too rough easily rebuffed and left puffed
I hope one day I find a way to be alone and okay but for now my skies are gray even on sunny days and like the waves I know I’ll eternally return but for now I burn, endless fire and pain a pyre without rain burning forever, chains I cannot sever no matter how clever I spit my wit aint **** in the big mitt.
Held in the hands of the One but no lifeline comes so I feel like I’m being burned in the sun, taxed like earned income, vexed like an anti-vaxxer with a sneezing son, fried by having too much fun and lied to by myself as I lie down in the sun, shoulda used suncreen but my burned skin screams and my broken dreams teem around the edges of a vessel losing steam, engines down and shields almost depleted, if this is Star Trek than I’m a red shirt being yeeted, if it’s a contest I’m this close to defeated, a few feet more and I’m off the shore, swept away in the ocean and no potion can stop this downward motion more than gravity seized by the sea I see no light to swim toward so I get floored, and at the bottom I grab a shovel and start to dig, maybe if I lean in to my demise I’ll be able to fantasize that this was a choice, that I have a voice, that I’m more than another skeleton swallowed by time in the end, I got the bends I sank too fast and even if I try to rise again the nitrogen will do me in, so why the hell should I even try when I could just lie here lying to myself, another bottle off the shelf another twisted elf helping me help myself abandon wealth and fall into deprivation, depraved agitation with no sanitation, ***** not clean nice and mean like mice and men I’ve gone awfully awry and I’m not shy enough to hide my shame so in these words I confide, some part of me awake for the ride while the rest sleeps in the tide, hoping the waves take me home, soma holiday the only way I’ll feel okay, my soma and germ both squirm with the ancestral trauma I spurned until it churned into a calamity inside of me that consumes me in gloom and doom until there is no room to do anything else but retreat back to the waiting room womb.
I typed that in one breath but still death would not save me from myself, this is not a cry for help this is more like a review on yelp, my life review is five out of five in the shine and naught out of who cares when the rain lays me bare, and cold and alone my flashlight shone on white bone and rotting flesh, death so everpresent it’s like christmas every day oh yay I hope my sarcasm forces a giggle from a lip so that this eclipse lifts for the briefest second, a glimpse at the life I could have had but somehow missed, the mist covers my eyes, first second and third, and the bird’s eye view tells me I’m ******* but when I look from the floor, well that view ***** more, so I guess ******* less would mean success, but the report card is hard to care about when I carted out my art so long ago, I started out with eyes on the throne now I’d **** to throw myself a bone and feel like there was a hope I could atone or find a road to home.
Tones bring me joy, music from the noise, something I wish I could make but I feel deaf and dumb when I try so I numb myself with wine until I’m fine to eat off the vine that others planted, feeling like a waste of space I wish I could face my fears, face to the mirror without my eyes wide shut, but the feeling in my gut is like a rifle **** slammed by a soldier, the pain surges and smolders, aching shoulders make it hard to stand straight, grated down like cheddar I used to be better than this now I’m a sweater poorly knit, a useless *** and a hub of useless code that would erode the minds of better men if they let my poison seep in, so I keep myself at a distance, I witness, hide my mental fitness and put on airs to win the princess.
I’m sorry I stole your heart you should have never let it part from your chest because now I confess I come off like the best but I am cursed to sometimes be the worst, an endless thirst I cannot slake, relentless life I cannot take, smiles I no longer fake because the weight finally ground me down to nothing in the end, nothingness my final gift to lend I guess I’ll just make space until I finally find erasure, the sweet bliss of death’s kiss will launch me to the next great adventure, returned to sender, smart like Ender my heart was rendered fully now it’s rended dully, blunt knives hack apart ventricles that used to start a beat that moved my feet, but now like lead I feel less alive than dead, and hope for resurrection is my only real direction.
Someone give me sign. Help me climb. Remove my blinds. Remind me of the path to the divine.
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 9:19 PM UTC
I'll be better here sometime right before never,
I swear
Not trying to be clever
I'm being sincere
Just can't assign a specific timeline to recover
I've tried it,
Found it only helped set up the next failure
The one that's already lurking around each and every corner
I stand defiant, against my own self preservation order,
Almost daring it to leap from the darkness a couple corners sooner
I'm not trying to be negative either
Life is an iffy endeavor
But I don't not get it,
I can see it from the view of the average observer
It's gotta look like a recipe for disaster
But it's better than what I see in the mirror
Something I won't need a memory to remember
Branding me with this, scared flesh on each wrist,
A gut wrenching reminder
The kind that can only linger forever
Stalking me from the edge of what I'll be able to remember
But it'll get better...
...they swear
©2024
Mar 31, 2024
Mar 31, 2024 at 8:35 AM UTC
Like a drug taken for a quarter century, this writing doesn't help like it use to...
See,
I'm starting to feel like it's working against me
Holding me here in pain and misery
Cleverly disguised as creativity
I use to lie and say it was a way to get rid of all this negativity
But I've spilled so much blood and tears onto stationary
...and not even purely metaphorically...
I should be completely empty
Hell, I think I might be
I think it's moved onto draining my energy
Can I still call this writing therapy?
Is it healthy or does it keep me from a new me?
Holding tightly but in spite of me
Hiding a different side of a complex personality
A new level of maturity
Is it actually helping any?
Today it's hard to say, but maybe
Unfortunately, it's something I'm good at, a skill I enjoy and I don't have many
So I've begun to notice I look at it differently
It was suppose to help me let go of the painful unpleasantry held in many a memory
But it woke a part of my ego that I didn't know would grip so tightly
It might have been a mistake to rely on it so heavily
It's no longer moving along the story
No cautionary tales to learn from because they never become history
It becomes a bookmark that I don't use properly
I never move it to the page I left off on and now, I must admit openly, I'm doing it purposely
I keep the worst of me right next to me, close as a frienemy
All because I notice I DON'T write when I'm happy
And I like to write so I dance around emotions strategically
I don't know if it's anything worth saying but writing is calling and drawing me in closely
A ghostly presence that when I look closely I see my identity
It hasn't always been but is now a big part of me
But does it want all of me?
Can't say either way with any certainty
No AH-HA moment, no clarity, only a death grip on disparity
So I recklessly walk the line of happy and tragedy
Like a DUI test on the side of the freeway, drunken pageantry
Eyes closed usually
No thought of mine or anyone else's safety
Dangerously close to calamity
And I just worry
©2024
Jan 3, 2024
Jan 3, 2024 at 6:32 PM UTC
What a web
Of clever widows.
The venom burns,
Acid lapped wounds,
Too early for the pain to subsist.
And of what I know,
She has yet to confess
And likely never remit.
Jun 26, 2023
Jun 26, 2023 at 6:44 AM UTC
Be that clever one , who knows to be a fool at wanted times..
Feb 6, 2022
Feb 6, 2022 at 10:24 AM UTC
When we see what some people are dishing out,
we know what Bertrand Russell was talking about:
"The stupid are cocksure, the intelligent full of doubt."
When you meet someone who thinks he's clever,
but seems much too confident in his endeavour,
and talks to you non stop and forever and ever.
When he acts like a prophet defying convention,
never admitting a lack of comprehension,
promptly has a cure for everything you mention.
When he hands out his advice on a silver platter
convincing you that his opinions matter,
you can be certain, he's as mad as a hatter.
Jul 14, 2021
Jul 14, 2021 at 3:53 AM UTC
Witty at word play
Some might say
Some tho may not know
What lies between the lines
Something clever tends to hide
When asked
"Did you make it by nine?"
My response
" I made it right on time"
May 31, 2021
May 31, 2021 at 3:20 AM UTC
seek the Well of Wisdom, fellow
one wise Owl once told me
and so I roam the world under the sunlight mellow
to find the land where this magic might hidden be
I drank from a thousand of different springs
I sought the directions of wise old women and men
I listened to every person, to every tale and every song I heard them sing
and that's how I found where the Well hidden had been
there is no magic, no shortcuts, no easy way
you cannot cheat the Goddess of the Greeks
Wisdom is hidden in books, in stories, in children's tales
but you must be the one who wisdom seeks
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 5:06 PM UTC
My body becomes rather rigid when it’s time to follow instructions
“Keep out” nah lets go in
“No smoking allowed” hah but I’m the kingpin
Give me some orders so I have something to throw away
Don’t even think about reverse psychology
You’re the town’s local theater while I’m New York City’s Broadway
Rebel against rebellion
All the ends march in four directions
North to south to east to west
I’m busy digging up treasure chests
I fly while you’re motionless
You turn to cement while I flow
I am the sufferer’s bandage
You are the world’s chateau
Feb 6, 2021
Feb 6, 2021 at 2:49 PM UTC
It is hard to find words,
That rhymes with the other,
Words that are evidently sweet,
That can make your heart feel warm and tender.
Poets are clever,
They build worlds in words,
That can make you shiver,
Poets, they are brilliant liars.
Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 11:09 PM UTC
have you ever been picked last?
because you're not as fast?
or maybe not as clever?
whatever...
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 8:57 AM UTC
I don't want to be the cigarette in your coat pocket
Just so you can take me out and use me
And after the high put me out and end my light -sprawled naked across my bed-just to say
"I wish we didn't do that..."
Filling me with such regret
Oct 6, 2019
Oct 6, 2019 at 1:45 AM UTC
I resist
the temptation
to become fond
of politicians
who entertain me
with clever lines
said with likeable energetic-charisma;
Instead,
I do my best
to evaluate
how a politician’s policy-proposals
will affect
the joy and happiness
of myself
and others in society.
Aug 8, 2019
Aug 8, 2019 at 1:48 AM UTC
I could do one of those
A backwards written poem
But I can't be arsed
Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 11:43 AM UTC
Cloud and water
Is a way of thinking
Of presumptive of being
Which calms the minds
Of those who see shadows
In every corner
And demons in every shadow alike
Cloud and water
And perfectly shapen sky
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 6:17 PM UTC
He knows a lot, more than we do,
he's very clever, he's got the highest IQ.
He knows his planets and all the universe
like his own pocket, he knows them best.
He knows the laws of physics and nature,
his head is one big Encyclopedia.
But does he know (he doesn't I bet),
that salty are the tears people shed?
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 11:38 AM UTC
she walks with grace
and a deep, earned sense of place
she smiles
and as laughs tickle at her waist
others around can't help but follow in haste
she has no nickname,
no joke or snicker surrounding her frame
no clever breadcrumbs
to tell the story of how she became
she simply is, and exists as a flame
she has an air of peace,
and a soft, subtle feeling of ease
she opens her lips
and as she speaks
tears from his eyes begin their leaks.
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 8:58 AM UTC
Writing like it might matter,
not sure if it ever will,
but I’m liking the patterns,
emo’s composed in prose,
everything is real,
hug from a bear kiss from a rose,
forget the reference if you don’t already get it,
just don’t forget to remember to feel,
on the stage of life everyone’s a critic,
way past the line of scrimmage,
no gimmicks it’s all real in the field,
can I get a witness to this existence,
it’s ambition mixed with persistence,
if the pen is a sword then what is the shield,
could I please get some assistance,
people sticking their nose in where they have no business,
please let’s all take a moment to yield,
life is too short and time is only an instant,
a moment can’t hold it I think I’m slippin’,
trippin’ not fallin’ blessed with omens & skills,
equipped with an awesome equilibrium & instincts,
every thing’s mixing every one’s trippin’,
releasing toxins & catching feels,
publishing photos of self that come with clever captions,
producing pieces of prose as a thesis composed of our existence,
which seems to lead to an honest way to heal,
or is at least self perceived to be something that’s significant,
though in most instants it feels like nothing matters,
a fever & chills sets in as all intentions are revealed,
silly human there’s only now no before nor after,
writing like it might matter,
not sure if it ever will,
but I’m liking the patterns,
emo’s composed in prose,
everything is real,
hug from a bear kiss from a rose…
∆ LaLux ∆
SF
2019
Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 6:30 PM UTC
all I want is one person to type all my thoughts into a poem
so that they can say
"It's harder than it looks..."
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 12:52 PM UTC