#unmetered - Hello Poetry

In my poem, I'll grasp the handlebar with sweat-drenched palms & unfocused eyeballs as they blur through the evening spectacle. I'll clench death at the knot of my fingers, & the grease oozing out from me like life itself. The door creaks covertly, as I focus on the evening grey, my face sliding into the shadows, unmetered and unseen. No solace can be found at this moment, neither can Papa's gentle smile cradle me in hope. I'll climb onto the bridge rail, watching as people are sliced into silence, emptied onto the deserted bridge road. The water's blackness beckons me, and I'll answer with my legs, climbing, assisted by some unseen force. I'll dissolve this fleeting hope and sink into that blackness, where consciousness dissolves into nothingness. ~Mikelson

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Dec 29, 2024

Dec 29, 2024 at 7:03 AM UTC

Mikelson001

"Mindscape into blur"

In my poem, I'll grasp the handlebar with sweat-drenched palms & unfocused eyeballs as they blur through the evening spectacle. I'll clench death at the knot of my fingers, & the grease oozing out from me like life itself. The door creaks covertly, as I focus on the evening grey, my face sliding into the shadows, unmetered and unseen. No solace can be found at this moment, neither can Papa's gentle smile cradle me in hope. I'll climb onto the bridge rail, watching as people are sliced into silence, emptied onto the deserted bridge road. The water's blackness beckons me, and I'll answer with my legs, climbing, assisted by some unseen force. I'll dissolve this fleeting hope and sink into that blackness, where consciousness dissolves into nothingness. ~Mikelson

16

Flying ****** Red torn across the horizon A broken foot stains the sky Achilles limps Autumn auburn Middle fear Lost love Waning warmth Fore-splintered earth Great spires of the West No matter wind or cloud The sun rests beneath the mountain I've gained a taste for feathers

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Oct 20, 2015

Oct 20, 2015 at 1:04 AM UTC

Citan005

Beneath the mountain

Flying ****** Red torn across the horizon A broken foot stains the sky Achilles limps Autumn auburn Middle fear Lost love Waning warmth Fore-splintered earth Great spires of the West No matter wind or cloud The sun rests beneath the mountain I've gained a taste for feathers

13

I am become fire Destroyer of self Fueling my rage To stave off my end Rock and iron Silver and gold Liquid at my ever-slipping reach A frantic search for foot hold The center calls Eternal Rome to which all roads lead Hermes flock Euphrates depth Melt Down

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Oct 8, 2015

Oct 8, 2015 at 11:58 PM UTC

Citan005

Meltdown

I am become fire Destroyer of self Fueling my rage To stave off my end Rock and iron Silver and gold Liquid at my ever-slipping reach A frantic search for foot hold The center calls Eternal Rome to which all roads lead Hermes flock Euphrates depth Melt Down

14

A damaged language Words shared between the hurt ones Scissors in my outstretched hand Sprinting I'm not sure whose blood this is Something is missing Leaflets maybe letters It hurts Pain on Parade Christ-like though I have sinned Deserving every barb Lost The cup is full Too heavy to lift I only wanted a taste No Screeching reprisal You will never know I had always hoped Wake up Its too bright

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Oct 8, 2015

Oct 8, 2015 at 11:26 PM UTC

Citan005

Pain on Parade

A damaged language Words shared between the hurt ones Scissors in my outstretched hand Sprinting I'm not sure whose blood this is Something is missing Leaflets maybe letters It hurts Pain on Parade Christ-like though I have sinned Deserving every barb Lost The cup is full Too heavy to lift I only wanted a taste No Screeching reprisal You will never know I had always hoped Wake up Its too bright

21

I sit motionless Unsure of my duration here Creaking wood of chair and wall Cobwebs coalesce before me Rusted *** and rusted stove The dance of tongue long gone Shrieking creaking chair and wall Inaudible like all else I do not rock I do not weep Only sit and think Monotone present Color past Prime gone not forgotten Our thunderous aches Blood would spill sweat would fall Gravity or time Which has ceased it's draw?

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Oct 6, 2015

Oct 6, 2015 at 8:09 PM UTC

Citan005

Gravity or Time

I sit motionless Unsure of my duration here Creaking wood of chair and wall Cobwebs coalesce before me Rusted *** and rusted stove The dance of tongue long gone Shrieking creaking chair and wall Inaudible like all else I do not rock I do not weep Only sit and think Monotone present Color past Prime gone not forgotten Our thunderous aches Blood would spill sweat would fall Gravity or time Which has ceased it's draw?

17