"abashed" poems
She controls her laughter,
lets it slip from the edge of her mouth,
the corners of her lips lift ever so slightly,
then, she makes a sound,
seamlessly, her fingers graze my thighs,
smoothly, her eyes meet mine,
and in her eyes, I see my reflection—
aflame, abashed, and fiery,
She is the answer I’ve scoured the world for,
and yet, she, herself, remains a mystery,
Ah, I see,
She controls her laughter
as easily as she controls me.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 11:54 AM UTC
when the milk light steals into my eyes—hey it’s grownups’ goodmorning
—I let your elbow go and then I pull it back again, soft metonymy (i
sometimes remember
when you’re awake, and abashed I keep it quiet
how you’re my favorite part
—of what?—not applicable, but this morning I remember
when your eyes are closed, and I let you feel how much I
feel you in my ribs when you’re all around me)
the punctuation of the days was always mine and I
couldn’t breathe as well without keeping the dark
for me just me
and still my eyelids weigh me down a little but
I don’t mind
hey goodmorning
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 9:20 AM UTC
C
is confused, so a little complex
I mean, one moment it’s top of the range
glowing
in the hierarchy of vitamins
but next it’s a little abashed and low
in a student’s report card –
you know, C is not as good as an A
And so can you blame C for its mood swings?
Its agony continues:
one instant C is Calm, in another it’s a Curse
And you know it also feels a little wanting
a little under-stretched, not fulfilled
like not being able to complete
all the stretching exercises
its fitness trainer metes out
“O, if only I could be a little more yogic,”
C intones
“I’d be as composed as an O” -
but O no, that’s not to be
And don’t you start
on the indignant possibilities
of the letter C, for C has always aspired
you see
to be genteel, cultured and debonair
and curls with disgust if the uncouth
should use the letter
to refer to any body parts,
be it that of male or of female
So, dear mortals, C should be left in celestial spheres
And so, in conclusion,
one Commandment I give unto you:
*Never drag C to ****** shallows*
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
Unapologetically Human
I am **** on the mezzanine
facing the darkened wet road
illuminated with acrid yellow tube light
better reds and blues surround towering palm trees
wooden fingers of ancient giant hands buried below
growing leafy green nails stretching skyward
little things, orange ribbons, endless cricks and dollops
bobbles and winches
Spirits
Play among the windmills
climb to the top of trees and sing into the warm wind songs of *** and heartache
as the universe ruffles along
Dive head first into the opponents forehead
grind the sand into his flesh with ram like resolve until the skin is red,
determine to die
This life is worth proving,
the stars are worth gazing,
and this body is worth bathing in the Maui air with naked delight
The ocean calls to my heart
water is a true lover whispering, kissing
inescapably feminine
I submerge my soul in joyful waves
always the tides follow the moon
like my silly heart, eclipsing
both light both night both day
simultaneously cycling
fully the light shines and our eyes perceive shadow faces in the dark blanketed clouds
the mountain gargoyles stand as titans, forgotten creatures
shoulders and heads, waiting for the moon ball
the ocean moon, tranquil bays
the air is sweeter with you near, a distant thought
cast about the horizon, the sun melting easy golden into my dreamy eye,
bless my drunken lips
dripping doltish songs into the friendly night
Wrestling with bulls of men
we kept our shirts on this time, yet blood was drawn in the sand
we madly danced in the moonlight to clapping hands,
kicking feet and knees
the ceremonial struggle toasting the stars
bottles were shared, some puffed on cigars
Come surf with me in the morning
or anytime the sun shines
even under moonlight would I meet you and we could paddle
come fill your heart with life and lust and romantic passions idyllic as freshly fallen snow undisturbed by worldly concerns
be not abashed for this embrace is a natural wonder of the soul,
join me,
forget what words of yesterday the prophets of doom chant,
we make our own tomorrow
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
On the platform rolled the morning train,
I arched into position like a predator on the prowl,
I jumped into the rake and sustained a sprain,
and like a wounded dog began to howl.
I bought myself to stand and staggered towards an empty seat,
as hundreds rushed through the compartment door,
I dint get a seat, but space enough for my feet,
and that's when my phone clattered onto the floor.
I dived into the mammoth crowd,
and began to ***** unsuspecting toes,
Several people yelped out loud,
and i sustained a few hard blows.
Wounded and abashed i almost gave up the search,
when the phone came into my hand,
with relief i grabbed it amidst a jolt and lurch,
but soon realized I couldn't bring myself to stand.
I sat crouched on my fours,
and soon developed knee sores,
The crowd was so large, I couldn't squeeze through them all,
and to my horror, other phones began to fall.
Soon, we were quite a gathering, all perched on our knees,
merrily discussing the Lokpal bill and the Cricket match in West Indies,
We were soon forced to balance on a single toe,
as the crowd began to grow even more.
After an uncomfortable half an hour,I brought myself to stand,
with delicate ease on the platform I managed to land.
Fighting against the oncoming crowd i pushed through with a shove and ****
dusting myself here and there I made my way to work.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 7:08 AM UTC
Caged in a prison, high on a hill, actions ensued but didn’t quite fit the bill
Words of not-always transformed promises to forever,
Side by side, naught to hide,
despite the cloudy weather
A friend, a rock, a ship almost wrecked was looking to dock
Alone in the harbour, under the moonlight,
Ashamed,
The half-wreck shone bright for what it was famed.
Tough stains were covered, remains left undiscovered to be smothered by another
Heart still full of what was before, keen, loveful pursuers already knocking at the door
Cabin wide open: “Ahoy mateys! Ahoy!”
She soon set sail with the innocent boy.
Tides were rolling on peacefully by, some of them were low tides but mainly they were high,
When in need there was a shoulder upon which to cry
And the girl thought the boy would help her get by.
Way out at sea on a tropical isle the boy showed the girl daemons not seen in a while
Opened her up and dove right in, illustrated the flaws of reacting to whims
Open
Broken
Alone at sea,
the boy turned his back as she fell to her knees
Floundering, drowning, thrashing in the waves
The girl succumbed to what her daemon craves
Underwater tears remain unobserved
A not-so-sly Fox spoke of acts undeserved
An unsure girl, curled up, abashed
Covered up the act and watched her daemon be tamed
A ship in the darkness, a ship under the stars
Saved the girl and craved the girl and hoped she knew right
And Oh! How she flourished in this dependable new light
“Love and peace, me mateys!”: a new reason to fight
The boy on his island, soon to return,
Will see that the shipwreck upon which they met, though
not
yet
quite
perfect
Trawls the coast to find an isle of its own
And though different to first-envisaged, Bristol shall be its home.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:27 AM UTC
an illusive fox,
that knows no bounds.
its presence keeps me around.
upon a hill, he watched me drown,
and taught a meaning,
i have not yet caught.
but also made me laugh alot.
no better a friend,
i could have asked,
the words could bring shyness,
he's surely abashed.
maybe meaning exists,
beneath both of our masks.
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
Fallible, shocked to find myself low
I did not believe my descent could be so
Don't I live with magical dispensation
My life being subject to my blithe creation !
I thought I was living outside the mass rules
Sadly I see I'm asleep with the fools.
Slowly I rise, weeping thanks and distress
Paying dear price for my stubbornness
Making amends to body and spirit
My arrogance gone ? I think not, but fear it !
Humility wakened, Immortality slashed
Continuing reasons to feel so abashed.
What are the steps I must now be ascending ?
Practice beginner mind now never ending.
Sacred illusions are found to be crumbling
Retreat to the silence , relief from the rumbling
Raising my gaze though I'm used to head bowed
Trembling aside, now refuse to stay cowed.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 7:27 AM UTC
Honey meets tongue,
Leaves taste buds stung and mouth melting
violently versing vows, Spilling out
fermented
Thoughts caught aloud
Dribbling down toward where they ought not
Time stopped us In a clockmaker shop
Cooking empty pots of dead doves in forgot sauce
Some day in december's When
Plans were dismembered
For the scent of Butter bubbling curiosity
Found horse hungry, So, suddenly he broke free
Trampling Predictable logic.
chasing her tail to town
When, I, sir pain, thought id taught again, then again
the art of invading castles,
Without being found.
Trolling, rolling through The inner out of bounds
A shoeless, shoreless yet Very sure way To get around
None catching on of course Till swordsman number four
Split with silver This world on wheels we made
With a crash
left some
Birthday suit vision
Standing
stunned
stupid
Abashed with a gun to the mirror
Which crying, stammered:
If you let them dear,
Just let them,
They will Listen,
To your chime, chiming Bells inside,
Rhyming you dread hearing songs from"
Said defense:
"Who wants to play each blow to the heart
With lawless abandon to The head?"
"letting harsh light burn holes and leave marks wherever they feel"
Don't think so Solomon!"
Vision laughs,
reflection kneels,
Hands praying
And In the periphery, as a way to break scene here
we see the mailman Crying tears on a map
Who once watched little Ms steel-sturdy
put on her full act.
Wood chips flew thenmsky went black
Pupils dilate to her shell-shocked state Of Before,
before hell bent on Withholding,
before Taking hostage of clowns who are all tied up with
Lilith, the queen
The state that led our wayward siren to begin driving round
in Some man-made beast
She calls Ed.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 7:22 AM UTC
'She will change,' I cried.
'Into a withered crone.'
The heart in my side,
That so still had lain,
In noble rage replied
And beat upon the bone:
'Uplift those eyes and throw
Those glances unafraid:
She would as bravely show
Did all the fabric fade;
No withered crone I saw
Before the world was made.'
Abashed by that report,
For the heart cannot lie,
I knelt in the dirt.
And all shall bend the knee
To my offended heart
Until it pardon me.
2.7k
Unseemly are the open eyes
That watch the midnight sheep,
That look upon the secret skies
Nor close, abashed, in sleep;
That see the dawn drag in, unbidden,
To birth another day--
Oh, better far their gaze were hidden
Below the decent clay.
2.4k
Forgive me for my passion. I feel so stupid to feel so much, so deeply. Abashed, embarrassed, shamed by a feeling that so many seek and never find: love. And I've got too much of it to give, and no one wants all of it.
Forgive me for my sweetness, my purity of thought. No one wants idealism mixed with such bitter truth. No one wants to see the ugly realities of life through such tender eyes.
Forgive me my simple admiration, adoration, intensity. No one wants to be worshiped with such devotion and selflessness. No one wants to be so loved without reason.
Forgive me for my undivided attention and careful agreement. No one wants to be listened to.
Forgive me empathy and sympathy and care. For no one wants to see that others share their feelings, and want to help. Not really. Everybody wants to be alone in their troubles, and somehow special for it.
Forgive me honesty and honor and truth. Nobody wants the truth, not really, the ugly truth. We like to live in our lies, and hurt our friends, and deceive ourselves.
Forgive me for my absolution. Cruelly I withhold my vengeance and bitterness. No one wants to be forgiven, not really.
Forgive me for seeing beauty unbidden, unrealized, unappreciated. No one wants to see the good in such a world that has hurt them.
Forgive me for myself.
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
I dyed my hair ash brown
Ironed it
harsh and fierce
I cut thick forest bangs
that hide my angry brows
and flirt with my long
black lashes
I dipped my brush
in bursting green
and painted my lids
to disguise the navy
emptiness
within me
I stained my lips roaring red
matching the words
that I hide, tongue to cheek
Nasty verbs and abashed adjectives
want badly to sneak out
and terrorize your every insecurity
I bleached every tiny tooth
bright wicked white
to flash towards terrible
wreckless superficial you
I lost five pounds
to fit into my saphire body-icon
attire
and don't worry, darling
my ******* are still naturally
huge and angry
from being objectified by you, *******
and I know that every
******* person
will think I'm a
goddess
model
queen
moviestar
and **** I'll look like one and flourish
you will merely turn your head away
while I head to the bathroom
like a lush loser
cursing your ways viciously at the door
of your ******* gay boy bar stall
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 7:51 PM UTC
there are times
when the meaning
of a word
is asked
one that
has been read
and regurgitated
used regularly
correctly adopted
as part of
an apparent
well-read
or pretentious
vocabulary
however upon
being asked
its meaning
there is only
a blank
vacuous
addled
unable to provide
a succinct
or even literate
definition
to save face
to re-establish
the hubris
of this
abashed lexicologist
analogous alternatives
will be offered
oversimplified
synonyms
carrying a little
less gravitas
a layman's explanation
to maintain
position on his
self-congratulatory
podium
Oct 13, 2022
Oct 13, 2022 at 11:42 AM UTC
It was July and something inside of her began to thud. small and light as a pulse grew from a seed at the bottom of her belly, weaved and braided with veins, commandeered organs like ivy on headstones. washed up and sprouted from her chewed down fingernails, popped blood vessels in her eyes. she thought, 'if this isn't dying then it must be blooming.' this new presence was abashed by the absence of Arabic script and an African summer. it wept at dogs as they panted; they could let go so easily- a few deep heaves and they're back to pure. easy and breezy and not the sad, harsh tear of skin below shoulders, the bruises creeping over wrists and the shredded esophagus. the soiled heart and tar-heavy soul. it panicked more and more as the calender blew past. it sobbed as tomorrow became today and today became yesterday.
i lived a hazy summer. brown skin and hair that turned red at the crinkly ends as it baked. i walked through cornfields and slipped on husks. landed on my back and erupted in giggles at the snowglobe sky protecting me and caging me. incense and gin were as consistent as the advent sun. music blaring and bodies bumping and no release. no escape. my little book of plans was solid and secure. and then smashed. ripped. no poetry and braids. not dreamy just silly.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC
There’s a sage at the doorway
Negating affinity as a leeway.
He never spoke to me though he’s there
I shunned the thought lest I did care.
Grew up in envy
To those – they never saw right through me;
How I yearned for that man’s attention
And from others’ sage I longed discretion.
A battle occupied his thought,
A war seldom won, constantly fought.
For such warrior was taken abashed
Looked at me, ‘I can’t take you back.’
Grounded within me was the silence,
Left and right I sought for solace.
Never sure if could amount to anything in his eyes,
Until I found out he too was never sought off despite.
Desperate - in a sense
As I took hold of a pretense;
Had not the Divine stoop down to reclaim
What I had yearned for the sage, I blamed.
A treble in my throat croaked, “Father”
Despite holding grudge I never bothered
Spoke nor utter a thought in my mind.
There, I froze with teeth to the grind.
Truth encountered my despot idealism,
Tried hard to renounce the criticism.
It’s weight – truth only subjugated my hate;
“Love – unless you embrace it, cannot placate”
Fell on my knees, armor exhausted itself around,
Wrung over my shoulders arms of the One who found
Me clinging on the border of insight and despair,
Only His Will my broken, calloused heart molds into repair.
I glanced back at the sage, I met yearning eyes,
Sought he, his worth for me and found no despise.
All along, had I known, he too was a broken and contrite;
Would not I, received much bestow what is right?
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
The sun was up, and daylight blue
Filled all the air, but in the streets
An obsidian dress fast cloaked la rue
As evil crept on stealthy feet
Which seemed at first to be small threat
And undetect; but threat was rife
With subtle moves the spylings breathe
The stench of death, they lower life
In a malicious, abrupt way
Bewildered me, made themselves known
Enemies to Freedom they
Serve only to protect the crown
We tangled, thrashed, my soul abashed
As in obsidian pall it drowned
And so throughout the bleak days, years
They barricade the street and skies
Their poxy prisons bring me years
As they cull freebird as he flies
He nimble tells their secrets for dear
Price, a price upon his years
Whereon the chase upon my back
The devils apace to do their Ill
Behind, beside me hearts pure black
Know only evil Love no thrill
For ****** rank they have the knack
Of making life turn still
The car swerved in with metal groan
I run past them ever fast
They the inquisition to my Joan
Freedoms flag upon my
mast
Such fearfulness I have not known
Than that they inspire, all hope lost
What will become of our good man?
Their petulance stalks him, his friends
If all this time with strength he can
Put doomed world on the mend
He hath outwit them, beat the man
Even if to grave they him send
It is about a year ago
The hunt, chase for me was afoot
As we pacing to and fro
In that town of soot
A town of beauty till I behold
The black coats and jackboots
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
Go now to the second stair;
I've hidden many wonders there.
No gold or jewels or gems or cash.
But, rest assured, there is your share.
You'll perhaps think me brash,
When you happen 'pon my stash.
But, rest assured, there is your share,
So at the stair, go be abashed.
You'll find tufts of matted hair,
Clotted flesh, both dark and fair.
Now all these deaths are mine to claim.
But, rest assured, there is your share.
I cannot say it was my aim,
To turn the stair into a frame.
But, rest assured, there is your share,
So I'll not be taking all the fame.
So go now to the second stair,
First comes joy, then despair.
Past that: regret, then who knows?
But, rest assured, there is your share.
And just like the old saying goes,
I will admit, my blood-lust grows.
But, rest assured, there is your share,
So go to the stair and claim your throes.
Now go on to the second stair,
Fret no more; you've no right to care.
'Twas your goading put them there.
So, rest assured, you'll find your share.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 3:29 AM UTC
The screen maximized and there you were
waiting patiently for me
and for the first time I really heard you speak my name.
You lighten up the screen, you transcend.
I was captivated by your mysterious looks.
Something felt sweet and innocent,
was it your shyness..
Or was it in my private thoughts?
As we tease each other:
I saw fears within your eyes.
With the breakthrough,
you saw the joy within mine
For true love is passionate love that never fades:
Never again would we hide our feelings,
or made to feel abashed of what was meant to be.
Our eyes stare into the camera, our souls reconnected:
You made me feel whole again, when we talk of love
How many times since our reunion have we seen the blueness of the sky?
the lovely smell of the blooming roses from miles away
These forbidden ****** desires of a platonic love affair pressing
deep into the core of my heart.
Not free to be in each other’s arms, but brave enough to
Follow our hearts: we’ve set the bar high
Now we must reach for the star..
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 9:38 AM UTC
i
the
weak mountain
sent it's pale blue streaks
into the river
she accepted by
sneaking them
to their
final breath
in
the
sea
ii
fire
two years
of drought
tear
the source of rain
in twain
the water witches dance like
dervishs turn and toss
for the wine
on
your
table
iii
the fabrics
of the other side
slashed by
a single syllable of
lightning
the clouds cover
the
abashed
face
of
Venus
iiii
press
the world's
face to the glass
and all it sees
is a mirror
an enormous eye
staring
toward
God
his blue muscles ripple
the tsunami spoils
for a fight
the
golden
spires
engulfed in
wet
flame
soulsurvivor
(c) 6/4/2015
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 5:41 AM UTC
"WHAT have I earned for all that work,' I said,
'For all that I have done at my own charge?
The daily spite of this unmannerly town,
Where who has served the most is most defaned,
The reputation of his lifetime lost
Between the night and morning. I might have lived,
And you know well how great the longing has been,
Where every day my footfall Should have lit
In the green shadow of Ferrara wall;
Or climbed among the images of the past --
The unperturbed and courtly images --
Evening and morning, the steep street of Urbino
To where the Duchess and her people talked
The stately midnight through until they stood
In their great window looking at the dawn;
I might have had no friend that could not mix
Courtesy and passion into one like those
That saw the wicks grow yellow in the dawn;
I might have used the one substantial right
My trade allows: chosen my company,
And chosen what scenery had pleased me best.
Thereon my phoenix answered in reproof,
"The drunkards, pilferers of public funds,
All the dishonest crowd I had driven away,
When my luck changed and they dared meet my face,
Crawled from obscurity, and set upon me
Those I had served and some that I had fed;
Yet never have I, now nor any time,
Complained of the people.'
All I could reply
Was: "You, that have not lived in thought but deed,
Can have the purity of a natural force,
But I, whose virtues are the definitions
Of the analytic mind, can neither close
The eye of the mind nor keep my tongue from speech.'
And yet, because my heart leaped at her words,
I was abashed, and now they come to mind
After nine years, I sink my head abashed.
1.4k
This object from high followed me
all evening. Sometimes, hiding behind
giant reeds shooting from the earth,
sometimes behind mist sprays.
The sea surging in the firmament
conceals it in her tresses now,
She who weeps her agony out
late every season in bereavement.
Her tears have filled up the valleys
on earth, with brackish waters.
Tonight the grilles that paint
the distance grey are wet by them.
I took a secret look, turning away
blushing on sudden reciprocation.
In the broken mirrors strewn
all over my lawn, it dunks winking:
ripples on the mirror, awash abashed:
light playing with shades of
delight, dejection, elation, suspension,
pulsation, susurration, salvation.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 2:50 PM UTC
There’s a wasp in the house
He snuck right on in
But I’m all alone
Wearing nothing but skin
Buzzing and humming
He moves lightning fast
He’s angry I’m sure
No need to ask
He needs to be caught
Or if not, then swatted
I wish I had foresight
Enough to have plotted
An action and course
For exactly this thing
But it did not occur
To me this morning
Now I know you might say
What about me
But you see that just simply
Won’t, and can’t be
For I’m hunkered On down
In the closet all snug
There is no way in hell
I’ll go near that **** bug
So here I will stay
With clothes all rolled up
Wedged in the crack
So the wasp can’t checkup
I gather reserves
Of brave that I’ve stashed
And face this mean wasp
No longer abashed
I gave him a stern talking
Told him what’s up
then demanded he crawl
In to my tea cup
Walked back to the door
And hear a loud “hey kid”
Then slowly it dawned
That I am still naked
I held my head high
As my skin flushed
A wasp in a teacup
A lady in the buff
I released him unharmed
Still on my task
Then turned right around
And smacked my own ***
To all of the neighbors
Staring at me
I ended with the most
Proper curtsy
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 1:08 AM UTC
the pyre of my soul
incinerates my interior
as I watch our flames burn
relentlessly from my lips
like the words that removed
love from around my heart
who would have believed
your whispers would burn
like the sun; singeing my
entirety with venomous
blisters flung with displeasure
bafflement sears...
there's no more emotions,
forgiveness is shamefaced
a misdirection of affections
your misunderstanding
leaves me naked in this
moment, heated in affront
this second fore, nothing
matters anymore
inner abashed turmoil...
roils like a cauldron upon
a campfire, its embered particles
I breathe and ingest for naught
in whimpering gasps
wanting to desecrate that
smirk rising upon your
handsome features; a look
I once found to be endearing
once in awhile
that you took away, too...
your total disdain; dousing
our flame of eternal love of
all that beheld us in God's
light; which, now leaves me
awash in bile, dazed, open-mouth
stares from dimming eyes
is all that looks upon my beauty
with such pain; makes me want
to scream, take me
want me, love me as once
before
re-ignite our flame...
those thoughtful embers are
undirected words drenched upon
an uncaring mind, directing
my soul and heart towards
the moon and the burn of stars
that light up the sky of my
heart and mind as if I could
have altered the course
of your bitterness, until
I can no longer sigh in want
of your love
thoughts of me gone asunder...
filling my lungs with silent
animosity towards all that you
stand for, my only want now
is for you to stay away from me,
allowing me to live in solitude
inside the hunger that pours
like stinging tears from my eyes,
let me be without changing
the sound of love still singing
within my heart
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 3:22 AM UTC
Abounding in delight I think I will be alone forever
I may tarry down each avenue, sordid; even longer
Dangling suspicion toward emptiness
Hold me by the tail with each imagination
I will; I do-- While I am without that
Which impetus and hostility abashed-- it’s probably true
Dangling suspicion holds me
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 12:51 PM UTC