#grasping
admit it
deny it
la même **** chose
('same **** thing", per Google Translate)
we are all in the hunt
for that lapsing lasting
finale royale,
of the
Last Perfect Poem.
Finale Royale...
no you say?
oh yeah…
u want a perfect love plus etc., and etc. and etceteras
and so on.
My unwanted advice:
pick one,
let the others ride.
You have to finally decide! ^
which is your perfect…
Oct 11, 2025
Oct 11, 2025 at 9:57 AM UTC
Tears rain onto cheeks as you watch
In my head wheels spin around
Speech crackling like phone line static
Words blurs barely making sound
How can it be I already epitomize alone?
You reassure me there's plenty of time
Doubts creep like morning fog
Mentally assessing mountain you must climb
Staring at fragile fingers
Present compared to past
Sun set in an instant
Night falling fast
Surroundings mostly hazy
Some parts crystal clear
Ironically what I witness best
Are the things I long to disappear
I'm left with knot in my stomach
Getting tighter with each turn
Wanting peace known as a child
Naivete time won't return
I bought one-way ticket to worry
Shouldn't have boarded train at all
Choke my sorrows and lungs with smoke
Drown yours in alcohol
Life nicer through a glass
Sure it ensures your fear departs
Pulse started pounding louder in my ear
Love wistfully contained within hearts
I cannot explain terror
Bleeding out
Hole will not close
Stubborn ways too old to change
Your incongruence shows
Forcing hope straight down throat
Waiting for falsity to be revealed
Flowers you planted instead of weeds
To be crushed on cruel battlefield
Your comfort tonelessly whispers to me
Thought that would soothe my stress
Did not argue with your perspective
For your sake try obsessing less
But under surface shrieking
Phrases pondered remaining hid
Grasping for method to save you
Before you are gone and I wished that I did
Aug 17, 2024
Aug 17, 2024 at 2:24 AM UTC
All we sometimes hope for
turns to nothing
once grasped
once tasted
something's found missing
that was never noticed
that was always needed
that we found where we did
but not where we frisked.
A cloud laced in golden
awaits for the morning
and if the sun never breaks?
Do the stars go away?
Expectations rise with no measure.
Why do we look at the gold
and think it as bright as the sun?
surrounded by glitter
joy is unseen.
Happiness shines as light;
brighter in the dark.
Why chase after a fugitive dream,
that when reached cannot be caught,
that when caught cannot be held,
that when held does not come true.
Why keep wanting this dream
so close and so hard to reach
not many have enjoyed it
not many have lived it
but still
we fight for this dream
we live to reach this dream
we try as hard as we can
all the time is needed
to finally reach
this broken dream.
Feb 7, 2023
Feb 7, 2023 at 2:47 PM UTC
a man appeared in my dream last night;
a kind soul and his features were clear,
a fragile heart tugged, i know i'm not his dear
i woke up, wanting to hold him tight.
IA
Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 4:56 AM UTC
These days, anxiety pools around feet
And I drown, which means
I wake up randomly gasping
Pulling at the air, searching for a ladder
Flailing in early morning
As if I am trying to fly
I want to fly away or pull the moon down
So I can build sandcastles on its surface
Then move in, taking residency up in the stars
Fear comes in waves, ebbing and flowing
Over my nerves, breaking down sandcastles
Anxiety, a fountain, always overflowing
Seeping into the corners of my eyes
And I cry for a raft in this tumultuous sea
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 12:57 AM UTC
When I try to hold on to a lovely present
its gift disappears.
May 14, 2020
May 14, 2020 at 12:56 PM UTC
Laying in bed
Grasping for straws
Ignoring what's said
No care for laws.
This lack of care
Is what put you there
How should I feel
Been stuck with your bill.
But I'll still wait
For the time to come
I know it's fate
For you'll be undone.
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 2:12 AM UTC
every night
i end up writing something about you-
the way your lips moved along with mine
to voice our poetries together
the way your hands slipped around my waist
to lead me through a slow dance
the way your eyes twinkled into mine
to make me want to write something about them;
about you-
i don’t want to write about you.
i’m done with making you the ink
of every phrase i scribble
of letting you be the canvas of
my artwork
it’s like
this poem isn’t mine anymore
it belongs to you
you are the words in it
and, you are it’s heart;
our heart,
It calls for you
because, i’m too scared to do it
on my own-
call for you.
i can’t let you have more pieces of me
than you already do
even though it’s me
who’s still holding onto
your memories
your touch
your voice
your clothes
your scent
you.
here
here is the only place
i have you for me
it’s like the world goes in a blur
and, it’s just you
me
and us
holding onto each other
grasping
clutching
not letting go.
but, it’s just me
who’s hugging
my memories of you
grasping, clutching-
not letting go.
the pen slips my grip
your warmth escapes me
i did it again.
i wrote about you.
again.
and like every other night
tonight
I end up writing about you-
but i don’t want to.
i don’t want your hugs anymore
-Manasvi.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 1:38 PM UTC
People trying to find
themselves in a lost mankind.
Grasping for money and fame,
not knowing what is the aim.
Hoping for a day
when worries will be washed away.
While Jesus knocks on our door,
waiting to heal our world at war.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 7:26 AM UTC
Tears flow down her face.
Agony from recent past, she clings to like a drowning body floating at sea.
Useless debris.
There's a taste of duality in all things.
A sorrow reality can bring.
Though this is a mere moment in time it seems like it is everything. How does one gauge pain if it is something we hope not to be remembering?
She lets herself became jaded, a heart slowly turning to stone. Heading down a path she lets herself believe she knows.
She lets herself believe she knows all there is to know.
If she takes a wrong turn there could be more suffering, or more joy then she would have otherwise know.
Who really knows which way to go?
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 6:22 AM UTC
One day
You find yourself
Holding onto dreams of old
And grasping at answers
Both old and new.
One day
You look in the mirror-
Time has passed you by-
And the only blame
Is yours.
One day
You feel drained,
Filled with “what if”,
With nothing to show.
What a shame.
One day
It comes together.
You see like you’ve never seen;
It’s so clear, now
You’re on your way.
One day
You find yourself
Wondering how you ever thought
You aren’t a star-
You’re a sunbeam.
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
**** feelings
Hurt feelings
Good feelings and bad feelings
Feelings about
**** all feelings.
**** crying
Crying can **** the **** off
Catch your tears with your tongue
Wiping them away is attention grabbing
It’s ******* crass.
**** shouting
**** screaming
**** pounding windshields
**** putting your fist through a wall
**** your ****** hands
Get a ******* hold of yourself.
Also
**** your joy
**** the light in your eyes
**** your inspiration
**** your wisdom
**** your compassion
**** that ****
**** burning eyes
**** tender throats
**** holding and hurting and grasping
and missing and dying
Go **** yourself.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 8:14 PM UTC
How to talk of such things
When suitable words make a game of hiding;
verbs and adjectives are not rich enough in describing?
How to speak of such things
When a brittle voice trembles in the mentioning,
Tongue tied trickery trips every uttering,
While throat clench tightly trapping sentences to the point of suffocating?
Who to hear of such things
When guttural grunts are all that come crashing
and gasping breaths are too weak for their releasing
While listeners impatiently tilt heads from my scratchy stuttering?
Who to read of such things,
When the vagueness of text can't hold true meaning
and impulsive eyes leave print that is boring,
When you can't fault the font because it is indifferent to what you are attempting?
All the while the essence of a poem is slipping,
opportunity to grasp it is fading
and inspiration waning
The moment wilting
efforts are dying.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
Feathers dance across my vision, and I want to gather them all up and store them inside of me.
Maybe they will make me float.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC