"absense" poems
the rain taps his
drumming song
on my windshield
but even he cannot
drown out
the sound of your
absense
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 7:09 PM UTC
On Sundays I feel a little bit hungover
Last night I was drunk with the thought of you
Laying in your bed in your arms
The warmth spreading in my chest like alcohol
Positively dizzy with lust
Having to leave is like a premature walk of shame
I stumble like I'm lost
But I am far from ashamed
I wake up feeling like I'm still dreaming
I don't even know if I was or
I'm just replaying last night in my mind
In the shower I wash away the smell of your bedsheets,
clear lines dried on my skin that you traced
In the foggy mirror the passionate bruises are clouds
Pouring this need inside of me
And I feel like I'm overflowing, already falling
It can be hard to be alone
When I leave, I feel everything and nothing
I want to open the car door and run into the night
Clutch fist fulls of ice in both hands just to feel
I shiver within your absense
Because you were just right there
And it has effects like sudden withdraw
What I would give for a higher dose
Waiting is something I can't do
I'm eager and impatient and yours
The rest of the week I am moping
Practically ill with longing
Hoping the days will go quick
I am pathetic but truthful
I can't help but feel lovesick
While the world knows no cure
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 12:14 AM UTC
Smiles, pretty hair; glances, little stares,
You're not here, but you're everywhere.
In the moonlight I find you,
as it lights up my night,
In the raindrops I feel you,
as they bring me to life.
In your absense I see you,
as the faces go by;
In the silence I hear you,
as our song fills the sky.
You are everywhere and yet you are nowhere;
You are the heart that I left behind somewhere.
You are my dream, my answered prayer;
You are the pain that reminds me to care.
How is it that you find me every single night?
When day is gone and visions clouds the light.
The silence overtakes me, forcing me to feel;
The demons of memory provoke me to fight.
The soul and it's descent,
your smiling little muse,
The moment never fails
to bring me back to you.
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 12:21 PM UTC
Beautiful darkness encloses once more
The smallest sound echoes, my tears falling to the floor
The shadows hide me from my fear of the light
And my tears show silver in the absense of my fright
The day wears on as the sun moves across the skies
Soon the night will come to silence all the lies
I only wish the day was shorter than my loving night
I seem to only live when the moon gives me life
I'm lost in my thoughts so I son't see the shadows fade
The sun sun has crept his way to the safety that I made
I look up in fright as the light shines in my eyes
But I don't melt or burn, nor do I feel myself die
Odd I think, that it doesn't steal my soul
In fact I think its warmth has made my spirit whole
I leave the whispers that sung only shadowed words
Because when I step into the light I feel music I've never heard
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 2:25 PM UTC
Lamentation; infelicity through neurotransmitters
Passing fleetly; swift but disturbed
Grids of brainwaves for the degraded
Overhead LED view is negroided
Chapter 1 Migraines;
A klaxon that grains into migraine
From there on out, strolling convulsion lane
Deriving from deception; antibodies start to lead loosely
Throe after throe I choose not to fuss
Laceration in hemikrania is conversing with the rest of my body,
Frequent as days turn nightly
I host the severe megrimly
Chapter 2 Vomiting;
A horendous bile builds up in my throat
Moaning like a ghoul; I banish the gloats
Disgorging from nothing, Heaving and heaving the dry
Although I force myself not, all the nosh turns into emit rye
Vital fluid very crimson soon came
From the cranium, I dislose, head pain
Frequent as the waves harsh blows
I host a ***** hose
Chapter 3 Tumor;
A neoplasm underneath I've found out
Unvisible but there; my flesh will start swelling undoubt
Below I feel like a mutant
All putant and disformed
Like globular liquids dripping from sewage waste
As long as I can still haste
Crescendo and surge won't ado
Frequent as traffic builds a rush hour
I host a cyst that is sour
Chapter 4 Deaf;
An absense of all frequencies
I daze everso daily;
Feeling like an earless statue; sound unaccompanied
Missing the wind's howls that ululate,
Clamors and bellows that spoliate
I can't sight the same verbiage
Without sonancy to inflicit, I see one big mirage
Frequent as birth enfolds
I host a soundless toll
Chapter 5 Brain Cancer;
A malignant fate told today
Disease spreading like a machine,
Programmed to enquire all it knows
A gruesome and hateful dose;
Withering casually away
Grown apart of, I'm the prey
As we hunt the beasts'
An invisible naked eye is poaching
Frequent as a house infested
I host a cancerous clothing
Chapter 6 Death;
A termination soon to unfold
I am as finished and ruined as story told
Biological function ending
Senescence through spending
User maat I haven't seen all wanted
Alas I am greatful for what has been daunted
Frequent as a death anew
I host a dissolution
My evolution; through.
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 7:09 AM UTC
Echos expand the ice crystals in my mind
Coronas of galactic dust feed into my pupils
My eyes are moons leaking white fire
My heart explodes into a supernova for it cannot bear the things I did to you
The guilt kills the sun inside my chest
The guilt is Jupiter and my vision is a slave, for auspicious moons have not gravity to compete with astronomical planets
Here my limbs are constellations that drift from one another
Here my fingers bend into uncomprehendable wavelengths
Here I float, empty, into space.
When I saw what could have been
what would have been
and what is now
I became an Earthen Absense.
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 6:25 PM UTC
A drop of deep green struggling
on the tar black of asphalt,
scorched by the cruel summer sun;
allowing just enough time
to make me realize
the kinship with a hapless reptile,
sure to meet it's maker,
in the absense of an alacritous intervention.
Stopping my speeding car,
I allow that chameleon to cross the road;
all green, coiled tail, its swaying gait became confident,
**the hurried escape was a ' thank you' note,
written in another form.**
0O0
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 2:02 PM UTC
as you draw the value of rivers
and the fickle nature of clouds
and the real gift of sacrifice
from my favorite book,
i gaze down at the ghostly veins
in this loving cabbage palm,
and wonder how brown ale and stew
is the height of the day
and when it's enough
and how.
*********************
by a journey north
i make all my old feelings
warm and alert
i remember supposing
my love was covered in frost
at the foot of my favorite spruce trees
gathering pins and needles
i know i fall for those of no sitting
and those spurned by silent blessings
my deepest vaults have safe spots-
difficult to find-
easy to alight-
surprised when beheld-
all chambers listen.
the only thing keeping me fast
is that car and those country roads
this fastens me to your existence
as i note your remarkable motion to
the growing world,
nourishing religion,
and your experienced hands
how does a straightaway of field
bring me to this loss?
the car is the only, holding me fast
to my hopes battling inevitable sadness
towards the unknown glides of our paths
i run far ahead
because i want to see this future
in front
moving past
falling back
*************************
even over few solemn days
i want to know how you could leave me here
wrapped in ribbons of resplendent desire
and worried stutters
the only unusuality about your silence
is its absence
(likely misunderstood)
and such an absense is not voiceless -
simply careless no-speak -
neither sound nor kind listening
is present in this kind of brooding
where are the flowing rivers of your words
if not through the dark caverns in me?
who else has been trading softness with you?
more often have i gripped the hard glass,
the steering wheel,
the stiff drink.
was there a glimpse into shocked discontent
granting you sudden power to retract
from all my easy benevolence?
the trouble is this -
though you've been sweetly resistant,
i've never professed hot beckoning until now
********************************
when i turn into the sweetness of sick sheets
and your sleeping hands
i breathe in all the dew on your chest
and smile
realizing
i'm the idiot
waiting
*********************************
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 10:52 AM UTC
How dreadful to see
Those that I cannot read.
All over the latest feed.
Not poetry,
Like puppetry.
A repetition of words, numbers, and symbols that aren't clever in the least.
And users with names
In impossible tongues.
Their gibberish reeks!
Line after line,
All the same, it's uncared for.
They write marriage, black magic, and European countries.
It's daily infinity,
Thieving the spaces from more thoughtful writing.
Shall I fight just to see the absense of these;
And say hello only to real poetry.
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
A girl stares at her ceiling.
She tries to find her meaning.
But the ceiling holds absense.
Her mind then became a canvas.
She paints with her emotions.
A cluster of scenery beholds.
Ranges from glimmer to potent.
Her vision blurred with amusement.
Tears filled her vision.
Everything is misleading direction.
Raw emotions filled her field.
Nothing but sadness are its yield.
Tears for years she held to.
She wakes with a heart broke into two.
A canvas of herself.
A part of heart.
Reflected & Detached.
Apr 17, 2023
Apr 17, 2023 at 1:57 PM UTC
You will feel the space
between sounds,
between your fingers
and your faces,
it will hurt your ears
to communicate
any desire to touch,
to see, to hear,
and when you taste
their absense,
it will become far too easy
to long for their perfume
on your pillows.
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 1:17 PM UTC
I've been outside before.
And never thought much more.
Tonight it's perfect out.
I sat on the deck beer in hand.
Out here on my chest.
your head used to land.
My dog he's cute he's quite the treat.
But the absense of you is apparently sweet.
Not at all Ive just lied.
Im miserable deep down.
Not at all if i just died.
For she used to sit just in this spot.
Peaceful and perfect.
How is it that I could have forgot.
Through the glass my memories perspective.
I was on the inside...
I thought I had all the time in the world.
I should have been more bold.
Ironic and melancholy my thoughts betray.
Right here where she were.
For now here I'll stay.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 8:16 PM UTC
head spinning, it hurts like it shouldn't that i think what i couldnt when things were begining and you were winning me over, wouldnt it be nice if we could toss the dice and mimic the devices that left us on our knees, fast forward to the ever elusive striaghtforward tease ive become, not in your absense, but from things left undone, words left unsaid hide behind nostolgia that eats away and craves attention in my head, growing with every shared breath in your bed, you think i'm talking about *** and the haunting ghosts of longing thats causing my stalling, preventing the steps i might take in softening the brown eyed mourning, little white lies storming off my mouth because i would hate for you know i love you, not because i ****** you, because i know your dad drives a red truck and survives with you deprived from his life , because i know your mom shoots up in cheers to disputes in your familys broken roots, because everytime i see you i forget everything.
Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 3:40 PM UTC
We're a world and generation set on depersonalization
Where everything is on social media but everyone is scared to socialize.
We all promise we "just need to vent" but is it venting or is it depression?
"He loves me, he's just tired. Its not abuse, she's just tired. I'm not okay, I'm really tired."
We all need to stop and chill without the help of benadryl.
But we need the drugs to feel normal.
A normal that they tell us to be
on the covers of our magazine
When we are all medicated to achieve the status quo
We can't learn from our mistakes if we can't remember them.
Instead of dealing with the guilt,
we soak in a bath as if the lavender suds will rinse away our ****** personality
We do it nightly and call it self care.
And the self care we really need is lunch that isn't Oreos and to join therapy.
We fill the empty hole inside of us with cigarettes and ***** and food
And we don't even know we're empty because our parents are empty too
And the only ones who can recognize the absense
Are the same ones telling us to work harder to buy our first house and car before the age of 25
When really, we haven't even settled on what we want to be when we grow up
Our grandparents and parents beg us to have babies because "I'm not getting any younger."
But I'm quickly getting older Dad, so shut up and let me drink until I pass out without worrying about how much my child will have to heal from, just like I'm healing now with Bacardi 151.
Its a cycle and there's no handle bars
Celebrities writing songs and movies, a fill-in-the-blank series that mimics a horoscope
To drag in the masses with feelings of unity when really we have no idea what our brother went through when we were laying on our uncle's bed at midnight at 5 years old.
They want us to be the same except for when its not convenient, and suddenly the children of rich people are to be scorned but they hate the black people who hate the black rich people
And its another cycle, the chain popped off and the brakes are our feet
Just like when we were kids except now we have no shoes on and we are rolling down a hill that stops at a lake
And our empty parents forgot to teach us how to swim.
Its 2019 now, when will America be great in the first place?
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 1:01 AM UTC
Gosh
this is one of her favorite words
and everytime I hear her say this
the sweet sounds of soft song birds
comes into my scattered mind
just a simple girl hard working
never asks for much, maybe a kiss
behind a curtain I stand lurking
her scent mesmerizing I find
sweet cherry blossoms, in full bloom
that is the taste of her lips too
petals strewn about the room
her face is in my mind, in everything I do
the more I know about her mind
the more I want to learn, it's true
tried stepping off to the side, away
and sadness colors my world blue
I cannot stand to be out of touch
absense makes my heart grow fonder
I need her presense, sometimes too much
daydream of her, my thoughts, they wander
since this angel landed in my world
time has come to a sudden stop
but if you would meet this beautiful girl
I guarantee your jaw would drop
so gosh be **** and gosh be ******
I love this girl more than a little
she makes me laugh, she makes me smile
for a kiss from her, gosh I'd walk a mile
Gomer LePoet...
Jul 29, 2010
Jul 29, 2010 at 10:14 AM UTC
This burning inside my chest
is to much for me to take
I can feel my heart beating
hagard
My lungs weeze
From trying to breath
through the pain
my ribs crack
under the pressure
from holding in the sobs
My throat twiches
from the effort to
hold in the words
My heart is braking from the
Absense from you
Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 10:25 AM UTC
She counted time not,
In hours or even days
But in stollen moments
Glances, caught
From loving eyes
Graceful touches,
Deemed "sins"
The wife of a beast,
Daughter of a merchant
She, the sold wares
Counting not, the hours of absense
But time gauged in wishes,
Her scarlet letter, blackened
Worn over her breast
Scars hidden,
Beneath fine clothes
She wears the jewels given her,
To blind onlookers
To the cloaking darkness,
That covers her soul
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 9:28 PM UTC
Baby, as ancient as you are
your naivety worries me,
or is it my own? Thinking I
could ever have you again.
Oh but how I wish, pray, on knees
again to set eyes upon glory
of man named Antonio Guadi,
his Sagrada De Familia.
Is he finished with you yet?
Will he ever be? Would I want it so?
Artisans carving sanctity to sky,
what have you chisseled in my absense? Is God's work ever done?
Do, continue on forever, give me
chance to return.
Ah to bask on shore of San Sebastian,
with pollished rellics of former
architecture found in his beaten grains.
I long to melt there once more, in awe of
noon on Mediterranian Sea. My eyes
taking witness to painted Catalonian
women, ******* with holy devotion
dipping faithful fingers into your
waters, and signing the cross before
dipping into blueness. Good Catholic
girls they are. And handsome Gods about,
oiling each other and bearing wittness
as well. The ice cream boy, is he
grown now? Does he walk by open
mouthed still, where we left such
imprint in the sand for all to see?
When? If, I arrive again, will we walk
Las Ramblas, stare at human
statues, dance with gypsies, drink
Absinthe and be taken by spell of
Green Fairy? Will we then not care
that pretty pick-pockets rob us
blind? Oh, for the hallucinatory
love of it all! Hold me in your fortress
walls forever, should I ever, return.
My Barcelona Baby, take me back.
PJ Poesy
p.s. I never left you.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
Please excuse the hole in the wall
With exposed drywall and 2x4s
And my bleeding bruised hand
The ****** bandages in the trash
I was angry and couldn't hold it in
Please excuse the blood on the floor
As it drips from my fingertips
From the lines I carved
Deep into my writsts
I just wanted to feel again
Please excuse the difference of appearance
I cut off my hair and colored it again
Threw out all my clothes
Tried out a new look
I didn't want to be me anymore
Please excuse the absense of me
I don't laugh at your jokes
The smiles not in my eyes
Barely able to say a word
I lost myself to the pain
Please excuse me
I can't take it anymore
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC
A sunflower that blooms without the sun
A silhouette that lingers along the walls
Without a figure, eavesdropping, wanting for more
A sense of taste without bitterness, sweetness nor contentment
A presence that stood still amongst the crowd
A lost soul forgotten by the bus
Another day, sulking in resentment
A scent that was never there, just a person with a lonely heart
Waiting for comfort, until the day, they finally fall apart
A smile left hanging by a thread
A goodbye less, a long lost hug from a friend
Another half to fill the empty space between two arms
Fingertips that caress unmended scars
Faded, torn, unintended, absent, belittled, irrelevant
Another breathing human less
Another life, crushed and torn into shreds
n.j.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
Show me the monster that controls you if you can.
I want to ask him if he really knows you, who you've been.
Who you are is not who you want to be.
I can see it in your eyes when the monster goes to sleep.
He sleeps so silently, and you act as though you're mourning in his absense.
You look so sad but strangely I enjoy your lonesome presence.
Are you scared he won't wake up and you'll be left alone?
Like a soldiers wife who's soldier never had the chance to return home.
I'll be here to love you, like I still do, when he leaves,
and I'll keep reminding you 'til I see a face that believes me.
I miss you and I miss your bright, ***** smile.
I miss the way you laughed like you were just a small child.
I miss the way you smiled back in those days,
Back when the monster had no control of your ways.
Jan 20, 2012
Jan 20, 2012 at 8:14 PM UTC
i swallowed a butterfly,
to see what it's like to fall in love
she readily confided in me
"my love, your heart will find an escape
unanticipated, unforeseen
wrapped in a tight embrace
side by side, one content soul
lifetimes before, you suffered
infected with lies, deceits, and cheats
but you have a pretty, scarred heart
but i promise, you'll quietly be cured."
since then, i've invited that butterfly in...
i swallowed a butterfly,
to see what it's like to fall in love
she acts up, in the middle of the day
diving, from shoulder to hip
breathlessly, twisting up my lungs
fluttering wings, at any given moment
she recognizes your name
and surely your voice
she reminds me of your presence
and she too, longs for your absense
since then, i've invited that butterfly in...
i swallowed a butterfly,
to see what it's like to fall in love
and greedily treated myself to more
so you could find them with your touch
her wings are quicker than i imagined
chilling the weak spots on my neck
cradling words that hopefully suffice
caressing moments that make me smile
still...
since then, i've invited that butterfly in...
Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 2:22 AM UTC
Who, me. I don't know,
I'll ask We, the people.
How has the world,
the one we share, you with me, I with thee,
how has our reality
come to today
surrounded by hooting proud warriors lauding their leaders
made kings by the magi and the tax collectors and spenders?
That's the question.
I think it's a test, or a temptation, knowing the answer might **** us.
Do the math, or believe an expert who says
he knows he knows, an
experienced thinker and weigher of big ideas.
Choose an expert, Yahoo, Goggle experts in interesting time one.
You choose.
Only for now. These teasing toy journeys are only real
in your way of thinking.
An expert in words at play or
an expert in words of war
or work or woe or
joy and
strength'n'vigorishit--
use-ery compounded into stone
an expert in dark, full-on absense of light, al
right, al
ready -- the expert
you let be smarter than you, by God, or any other witness,
that expert better be having more than historical authority, okeh.
Gears used to grind, stick-shift,
yoost to lever m'thematically synchronized
wheels in wheels,
lesser gears, experienced old grease monkey knows,
between those,
is where m'monkey wrench goes.
Bring wheels in wheels to a screeching halt!
Like by the River of Tebar, very hard to write such thoughtscenes,
he trys, um-phailure, deep breath,
look around, selah.
Kiss the son, taste the son, know the son as brother, as gotchabacker
friend, who is the way, the truth, and the life.
No lie is of the truth. There is a basic algorythm in 2019.
AND in 2019 I have an idea that works for me,
the null set can hold any evil any mind, mortal or otherwise,
can conceive.
Napoleon Hill seeds sometimes sown as weeds to choke a crop of lies,
"What the mind of man can conceive, it can acheive."
Ah, so:
Man as a whole, he is thought to have meant, mankind, wombed and un;
but he may have meant man as in, any one man, wombed or un.
--- end first course --- recycle all utensils
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 12:58 PM UTC
This time - things change.
Perhaps change isn't the correct word...they vanish.
The sins and errors: no more.
The tears and pain: non-existant.
You, i do not deserve.
Nevertheless, need you.
And no...to let you go is never, never has been
and never will be, even an option.
To the others i will talk no more.
The others i will see no more.
There wasn't any others...
Just the curiosity of my inhibitions.
**** that human urge!
Oh, **** that human nature!
For sorrier I have never been and the words said now
Are as real as the air we breath.
Thus.
Here i sit, in this lonesome place.
Full of ignorant people who stare at me and feel pity.
Pity! Ha. Not even sympathy.
Yet here i sit.
Writting words that to you, have no meaning.
But here i sit
...still writting
...still grieving.
Thinking of what to say -
only if there was anything to say.
Thinking of what to do -
only if there was anything to do.
Thinking of us -
only if there was any 'us'.
Everything becomes insignificant
if not of yours.
Everything is now nothing.
But what is nothing?
The absense of everything.
And everything?
- is you.
To live on with my life. Impossible.
To act like this doesn't affect me. Impossible.
To let you walk away in pain. Impossible.
To hurt you once more. Impossible.
To listen to the so-called advice. Impossible.
To laugh at the most probable ending. Impossible.
To not love you?
That too, impossible is.
Thus.
Here I stand.
In front of you i will place myself.
My eyes will stare into yours and
(though i'm probably confusing reality with my own fantasy)
in loyalty and bliss we will prevail.
The love will overstep human instincts.
For what we have isn't human
- it's godly.
So here.
One more written promise.
Only this time there isn't a third person to influence.
Only this time, though capable of sharing,
to myself i keep.
The start of a new beginning - if you will.
Because as hard as you may try
to stare at me with disgust and anger,
it's as how much it is visible in your eyes
that you want this 'game' to end as much as i do.
For i still see the love -
and the possible forgiveness.
For i still see
the hope.
True love doesn't vanish into thin air.
It doesn't vanish because of the errors.
As much as you may want to escape from it -
it stays.
And it only grows.
I'm deeply sorry you had to pick the one
that only learns the hardest of ways.
But she does love you.
That - has never been a lie.
It is as much as a lesson to me
as it is to you.
Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 6:06 PM UTC