#tug
It flutters… then jerks
drifting left…
then right…
a restless heartbeat
caught between two giants.
Only the flag moves…
Searching for stillness
Aug 15, 2025
Aug 15, 2025 at 1:28 PM UTC
One afternoon in the kitchen listening to some of my favourite old songs from my Punk Rock days
The *** Pistols God Save the Queen, Pretty Vacant, Did you no Wrong and Silly Thing
Then I started listening to The Damned's New Rose, a great riff and then Neat Neat Neat
Neat Neat Neat doesn't have as good a riff but it has this mad guitar piece in the middle where it just goes crazy...wild!!!
At this stage I just had to get it out, yea! I had to get out my air guitar
I'm a virtuoso Air Guitar player, if there was an Air Guitar contest I'd win easily
So I get my Air Guitar out and suddenly I'm whizzing around the kitchen
I'm doin' a Wilko, a Wilko Johnson (RIP Wilko)
I'm flying around goin' crazy with the music
Now I'm wearing these casual Work Pants that I like to wear
And they have pockets everywhere, and they also have funny hooks and loops coming out of them, I never knew what they were for
(Probably for hanging tools)
As I'm flying round the kitchen doesn't one of the loops from my pants get caught in one of the cupboard door knobs
And suddenly there's this Big tug and an awful Wwwrench!!! Noise
I stop and wonder what the **** was that...I look
The door of the cupboard's been ripped off its hinges
**** I say to myself...Ssshit!
I'm after tearing one of the cupboard doors off
Then I stop and wonder for a moment and slowly a smile creeps over my face
"Wait a minute", I think to myself
Now that... that's Punk Rock!".
Jun 27, 2023
Jun 27, 2023 at 6:40 AM UTC
I keep waiting
For you to say
My name
Lingering in the background
I watch you
With hands open
Stretching out my fingers
Trying to tug
At your shadow
Pulling you closer, closer
I want you
To consume
Every inch of me
Set me free
In the strength of your smile
And the delicacy of my sigh
Aug 28, 2020
Aug 28, 2020 at 6:57 PM UTC
White mares skipping high
Fleeting bows of flight
A delicate sway and tender—
Of nymph water bearers.
Grip to the pole— start bending your toes
Gritty witty Pointes— slide sailing your stockings
Don't be weary— you all weigh like babies.
When everyone curves below,—
I might cry low
The tug of veins,— Twisting my equity
All for a share of artistry—
That shakes dynamic scaling
How can I fly with this?
A flock of gnasgabs— Forming on the floor
Say, I was bewildered—
By such floating nerves
I suppose, my anchors would stumble!
Muscles shifted miniscules to humongous
I learned the arc's way
How swans scoop to ponds,— and paddle
To split stems without abraded rock scrapes
The pricked would never ill still again— For the element of wind,—is a frolicking mentor of mine.
What shape is imposed?
Is to be trained to sketch enough?—
Or to smother crust on feet?
A little pinch on my nose—
They told me— "Be toned, and not be a cylinder, or you'll be getting misfits."
If groom is to groan,— Then unwinding is not an option.
Stale eyelids, protrude lips;—
With undetermined purple ankles
Presenting, the queue of peacocks—
Crafted by coned imagery!
"Smile darlings, smile.."
"Grant them a magical show!"
A single blow, I think I would fall,—
Or a slip— Brought by fragility
A collapsed bud of covert slim blossoming
What sot titles be lurking—
On this lumpy staging?
I see the curtains closing..
Raggle-taggle pearls, no—
Just piercing prisms
Attach with vessel tubes— providing life
Rates and beats,— I am awake—
While their pupils start bowing—
In a forum with wheezing closed fists
I cannot nod for this; so too, I replied
—"Let brittle vases be a harbinger for naive pottery makers."
"Spin and spin around— Oh stop, I'm not a music box!
I love dancing,— but don't treat me like a doll!"
I escaped, from dry flower fields
Now, I am a deviant— of their snotter lying— of absolute bloom
A standard of fixed chains and keys
No more attending to an epithet of perfection,— For I will be the motion of my own tides and breeze.
I battle to Ballet,— For 'tis as knight with armored strength— of fenced rivals 'til to bleed
I risk for Ballet,— Like cliff dancing, even on edges— I am steady,—
And tough to dive in lakes and oceans
I fall for Ballet,— How Alice fall to the Wonderland— discovering mysteries in every dooorway
I compose to Ballet,— As I dwell in the well of written poems and tunes,—
I inherit to move..
The wishful dandelions,—
Sprawling with honeybees and butterflies,— of me running with ribbons in Spring time
I feel my hair is brushing,—
As I blew these dandelions,— Sending letters to other gardens—
"Dark, Bright, Tiny, or Huge— Anyone can wear a Tulle,— Come and fly, as we're all free and beautiful like dandelions.."
May 14, 2020
May 14, 2020 at 3:29 AM UTC
buoys,
a whole other topic
please stop
bringing it up;
grills
so much easier;
feels so safe,
feels so comfort
Nov 16, 2019
Nov 16, 2019 at 11:17 PM UTC
you make me feel like
i have to pick sides
in a rope with both ends
none of you are ending
it's not my fight to be won
maybe being in the middle
is the worst
after all
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 2:26 AM UTC
The tug war
between my heart and my mind
left me in a minefield
of questionable
outcomes
Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 3:09 AM UTC
prosperity comes in…
prosperity comes…
she comes in...
shades of black and blue,
like bruises
when you hit me and tug on my hair,
and like
apples that ripen and then soften...
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 1:19 PM UTC
A spirit steals his instrument
and plays it's chords.
In sublimation he waits,
patient,
hoping that for once the ghost would let go,
and his mind could be still
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
Tug of the Rope…by Jessie 10/05
Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Feel me getting cold
Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Never got the chance to grow old
Feel me kick and twitch at the air
Feel me sway back and forth
Feel my lungs as they gasp for a breath
Feel the crowed as they stare
All of the sorrow, I brought to this world
All the things I’ve done
Today I will pay all my debts
For the pain, that I’ve caused to each one
Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Feel me slipping away
Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Nothing left to say
My lifeless body hangs from this rope
The crowd roars out with a cheer
Mothers, covering their children’s eyes
Through her trembling fingers they peer
Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Taught, thick and straight
Feel the tug of hell calling me
As, I pass through her fiery gates
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 10:37 AM UTC
I once trapped myself in an echo room
Said some words
Heard some words
Spoke a verse
returned a verse
I wanted to converse
With myself
Yet it made things only worse
What I expected
Was not what came true
For every me
There was a you
For every yes
There was a no
For every high
There was a low
And I grew suspicious
Of the vicious
Malicious
Tone at which those words were uttered
While my say was muttered
Watered
down
Spoken like a sad clown
With a frown
On my face
That grew deeper with every brazen
Contradiction that I got
Though paradoxical it was not
Because I realized soon enough
That I’m the one who said this stuff
And the reason I was being so rough
So tough
Was because I didn’t listen enough
To the different sides of me
All two, three
Or four, five, eight, ten
Perhaps even a thousand of them
Yet how do they expect me to!?
I don’t know what to do
I’m just lost and confused
In the middle of a tug of war
A war
“To determine who you are”
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 5:21 PM UTC
I looked ahead
and stepped into
the seductive unknown
heart blind
eyes wide open
I looked ahead
into "what can be"
and gave "what" its curiosity
"can" its strength
and "be" its confidence
I looked ahead
and took a deep breath
with fear in one hand
and courage in the other
I looked ahead
but when I wanted
to take a step further
I felt a tug
on the strings
of my heart
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 4:32 AM UTC
Pull me,
play this tug of war
until I can no longer
bend back for you,
as much as I love you,
I cannot split myself in half for you.
I hope you understand,
I hope you see
I cannot feed this
masochistic thrill you seek;
I want to feel, feel, feel so badly
but not bad enough to taste blood,
but badly enough to give
all the right pieces of me
to the right person.
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 4:33 AM UTC
It's pulling me
this need
this ache
this grinding
all consuming addiction
that I thought I had overcome
only to find
that it's slowly
causing me to be
quite undone.
I crawl, literally crawl
to move away
to stop myself
from trying to say
***please, just please
come back to me--
I used to hold you close
used to always have you
at my beck and call
and oh, my god,
what I would give
for just one more draw,
one more puff
a long, slow, lingering
inhale of your taste,
and yes, your scent--***
too bad I'm broke
have not a dime
cause I spent
every penny I had left
on wine and bread
you see, I truly thought
my love for you was dead--
but now that you're not available at all--
I find myself wishing I could just
answer your lingering call...
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
The smell of your skin embedded deep into my brain, i often find myself alone wondering if you are thinking of the life we always wanted. The taste of your lips is the one thing I crave more than any other poison. Unlike any other you have a chain wrapped around my heart and you wont stop pulling on it. Keep pulling, i love the way that you hurt me. Pull so hard that my heart rips out of my chest and into my hands so i can hand it over to you, that is where my heart belongs. That is where my heart has always been, with you.
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
you're pulling me into the future
he's pulling me into the past
i'm not sure how long
this tug of war will last
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 4:00 PM UTC