#crestfallen
There are tiburones off the Fla. Keys
Believe me, out there in the aqua deeps
Sometimes they swim up into the sandy shallows
But not often;
And usually only at night while you’re on a veranda sipping a
Glass of red wine,
Safe in the glimmer of a tropical neon beer sign
Underneath palm trees.
These tiburones swim off shelves and under cantilevers
Continental shifts in deeps
Sandy bottoms, they cruise by
Like missiles
Fired from dusky deep ephemera
Assimilated by the amorphous ocean infrastructure
Flotsam and careened ships off gray coasts
Rusted and dead steel under the raining ash
And the sea foam that pools around their husks they falter, canted, and tipped
And lost as quick as were, gone, betrayed to the deeps again.
But, sometimes, tropical shallows
A Latin lover's osculant kiss
A fumbling of the belt buckle
Swimming dark waters under moonlight
Dark eyes, red lips
Surl breath dlipped wet
Held in ocean's gentle soul
Pearls aligned distant metaverses
Transcendent, therefore, only Beautiful
They don’t care to bother with you, mostly, the tiburones.
They’re curious, a dorsal fin to cut the surface, an indifferent pass
You are not the wine they seek to drink.
But if you find yourself afloat;
Lost or hurt,
If you venture too far from your shore,
Carried by the gentle waves, the inverse gravity of water
When the ocean seems benign...
...They’ll come cruising.
It won’t take long.
Doll-eyed and mechanical, they’ll swim by
Just to say..... Hello.
I have not seen many tiburones but they impart,
Even to those who have never seen them,
This unspeakable fear:
Not so much of the Ocean—Few ever enter the Ocean
But of some assimilation of thought
Where it passes by from dark end to dark end
Sunrise to sunset, and a portentous silhouette beneath you,
If not of the wry toothed smile, and the porcelain ghost…
Then of what?
Could it be of the thought of teeth?
Or of a malicious ghost agnostic of your importance?
Of the specter that cares not of your potential,
Disregarding your position in this world.
Something that treats you with true Equality-
Could it be the things in this world that say Hello with teeth?
There are abbreviated bits of flesh rent in life.
I wear these battle worn scars.
And not instead of love but because it’s the only way
They know how to smile at you.
It’s how they say Hello.
I only have seen their reflective eyes in the shallows
Off the verandas where I have sat and drank
Drunk myself into a stupor, a vibration in my fingertips, in my mind
No sommelier am I.
The red liquid fills my mouth and paints my teeth an indelible red and drips from my mouth from my ****** lips
I have bit too hard,
And spilled my red wine onto the table
Watching it drip viscously off the table and stream to the floor
And pool in great deep redness on the veranda’s floor
Drops and drops and then, restless, I drop back into the depths
In the dead, burnt-out center of the wine’s pool
And watch it assimilate into the porcelain.
And the deep darkness of the red miscegenates with white porcelain
And it all fades in and out standing on that perfect precipice of wine and violence
The wind and flux of ocean waves and darkness
Those eyes down there, refracting moonlight, deadened orbs
The wine deliquesces from veranda’s precipice to waves
The great adulteration, the miscegenation, it all goes flux.
And I drop off, assimilated into darkness, there:
Where the bits of flesh torn from teeth and I swim away
Dismembered, deformed
And a flutter in the shallows,
A quick, precise splash,
A perfect torsion
Writhing bodies.
And those black eyes roll over white,
And those archaic teeth descend,
And pulled under the dark ocean
Without even the moon to give me my light
And in my breath’s last seconds,
I’m perfectly assimilated into this structure,
Deliquesced, relaxed, and gone into the depths,
Swimming in the sulfuric bottom
Of my glass of red wine.
Oct 9, 2020
Oct 9, 2020 at 11:26 PM UTC
our naked silence & honey kiss
were nothing to him
he will curse our empty love
with a bittersweet word
and you let it **** us.
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 12:36 PM UTC
To be sad
Is to mourn over
Death
As decorated
With your crest
It means that
That's all thats left
And you
Are gone
You sure do
Look good
In the moonlight
For the moon
Doesent die
And it glows
To remember you
And tells all the stars
About your life
As your bearing
May hang
From its crest
Of a crescent
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 9:24 PM UTC
Most of my creativity emerges
from crestfallen summer nights,
where I tear the seams of the scars
that have reopened
after a thoughtless word
after a tasteless comment
after an inconsiderate finger,
jabbing into the insecurities
I imagined myself to bury,
but in reality,
I have not.
Humid,
crestfallen summer nights
encapsulate me,
until the pain numbs
me.
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC
It's crazy how fast people can drift apart despite the promises of staying together.
What's even crazier though is that you know all these things about them that you're just stuck with until you're able to let them go; their secrets and quirks and the way their eyes sparkle as you surprise them with gifts and love.
It's those things that make it so much harder to walk past them and act as if you haven't seen intimate parts of them. You make awkward eye contact that lasts less than a second and mumble a "Hey" before continuing on your way. As if they're just some old acquaintance, even though at some point you were each other's world.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 11:49 PM UTC
All set for bluebirds . . .
Freshly painted bird houses,
. . . Sparrows moving in.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
The Lady Moon
Used to glow
With all the joy
We've yet to know
But now her face
Has fallen apart
And broken--
Is her weary heart
To a crescent phase;
Half of her emotions seen
A mysterious night-ruler,
The sad, pale queen
She is crestfallen
With the falling stars
She is the lonely Venus
Left by the gone Mars
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 6:45 AM UTC
Not angry.
Not sad.
Not broken
Not depressed.
Not upset.
Not even jealous.
I thought I was at first, but I don’t think I am
Because I really meant what I said
Reading that text made me smile
Happy for you
I hope it works out
I’m just a little disappointed.
That’s all.
:(
Repost if you are a little crestfallen.
Please comment I love to read interpretations of my poetry, and anything else! Stories, suggestions, etc. anything really.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
She has a heavy heart. A messy soul.
A reckless mind, that lacks self control.
She wore nothing but shades of grey.
Her finger tips blue, from writing all of the words she couldn’t say.
She’s always been a silent fighter,
with demons on the tip of her tongue.
Taking away her breaths,
right from her lungs.
She won’t take any judgements,
on the bonds she needs to untie.
She won’t listen to those telling her how to suffer,
and how to cry.
Ignoring the murmurs of others she looks up at the sky,
as tears start to roll down her cheeks,
that tell a thousand stories she’s too afraid to speak.
Her heart cries for help,
but her face is all smiles.
Her emotions unsteady,
hiding she’s been crestfallen for a while.
Something she’s learning is that she needs to undress.
Starting with her buttons of worry and stress.
Undoing them one by one,
brick by brick.
She knows it’ll be hard,
for she’s built them up thick.
She was once asked why she sometimes wears many layers on warm sunny days.
She said because they made her feel grounded,
but maybe it would be better to just FlOaT away.
Giving in she wandered around searching for something that will finally set her free.
Lift her off the ground,
high above the trees.
She is like a kite with it’s string still spooled tight.
Closing her eyes she drops all of her burdens mid flight.
After realizing how unhappy she has been,
she choses to live as light as air,
never again to lose sight from there.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC