"absents" poems
Dear Grandpa that I never knew,
Mommy told me so much about you,
Sorry that you couldn’t watch me grow,
Or in my childhood much could sow,
But Mommy did once a tale me tell,
Of how you made her laugh
and picked her up when she fell,
you taught my mommy of what people to one can do,
while you did live,
So Grandpa thank you
for the love to mommy you did give,
Grandpa its always been strange to hear,
How mommy does in her memories hold you dear,
I can’t help but wonder how you where,
to cause mommy when she speaks of you to cry that single tear,
Mommy said she was always one of the boys,
But you taught her she was beautiful and to keep her poise,
she was too teased for not being thin,
but you taught her who she was, was what made her win,
Of all her knowledge once belonged to you,
The songs she sings and all she holds true,
Her love for nature and ones soul,
But grandpa your death on mommy did take its tole,
So Grandpa though your absents makes her blue,
Mommy say she owes who she is all to you,
So My Grandpa by no other name,
Thank you,
Because otherwise Mommy wouldn’t be the same,
But dear Grandpa I Never Knew,
but my heart through mommy's touched,
You should know that mommy loves you,
very much,
And though I don’t know you grandpa dear,
When I see mommy cry her single tear,
I know I’d have loved you lots too,
Because mommy’s love for you was and still is so true.
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:19 AM UTC
Forty feet above the flowers,
we revealed scars from
past self harm.
He listened to
the reasons I cross my arms
in front of my chest,
to protect my heart.
They were glossy he said,
my eyes never could mask my emotions.
He pulled me in
and rubbed my back.
We were both broken half's.
I believed his words when,
he told me I was young
and it didn't matter,
one kiss
is all it was
between friends.
He questioned
if it was the song bring the tears
because it spoke about being there
for someone forever,
even in their absents.
I shook my head,
for leaving doesn't make me sad.
He asked if it was him,
I shook my head again.
He cradled me in his arms.
Wiped the tears
from my cheek with his white t.
The tears were for the same
reasons as the scars.
My eyes were daggers he said,
and it's because
I was destroying the invisible insides with razors.
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 3:33 PM UTC
Blinded by the sunlight that shines so brightly,
it proceeds to massage my spectacles,
rinsing the grime away from my eyes,
there lived mankind, buildings, plants, and animals,
but where was I, unaware of the planet I saunter,
I look in amazement, unborn to what to forecast,
but then I distinguished the dark side, somber and bleak,
impoverished skeletons walking hunchbacked, desperately
scrambling for silver, as so to purchase a bottle of liquor and a burger to indulge his vacancy that absents him,
as I trek my way further into this metropolis,
I hear a sudden commotion arising from the right direction,
it begins to steer me that way, luring me in deeply there was a mass of onlookers chanting on, of what seemed to be two individuals pummeling one another into a bloodbath, but then it escalated, the crowd began to all partake in the beating and it caused a mayhem, that was uncontrolled, I bolted the scene, protecting my mask from getting dismantled, as suddenly I hear a very deafening noise, it was a four wheeler wagon, that speedily amtrac it's way towards the locus in which we was in, everyone scattered the scene, as the people who dressed in uniform annihilated the scene, putting an outright stop to the madness that occurred, forestalling future procreation from the participants, my heart shriveled and I gasped for air, I ran aimlessly into a town that was lively and sunny, as I saw mankind playing sports, clubbing, riding nice convertibles, homes were futuristic, plants were vegetated, smiles and giggles were infectious, everyone was cheerful and amused enjoying this utopian I discovered, it was care-free, as folks walked in suit and ties, formal dresses, luggages entering and exiting, dialect as clear as caribbean sea, friendly animals chaperoned by their owner, "where am I?", "what was this strange but yet interesting soil I embark on?", ..... I don't know, but it closes me in like a maze and I'm forced to live as they.
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC
We'll meet at your place - my place this year
Our universe
Where are you?
I'll wait to night
Wait tomorrow
Wait until our universe is only mine
Alone, only me
In my own empty shall, to fill the emptiness
But I'll wait
Laying under the blanket
That stubbornly refuses to get warmth
Like it is reminding me of your absents
Looking out in to the night
Black emptiness fills my dreams
Dream of dreaming dreams of you
Nightmare
Where are you?
I know you will disappoint me
Leaving me alone in the dark
Filling the gabbing cliff with empty promises
Eyes staring form the other side
Hopes that are crushed jet again
WHERE ARE YOU?
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
Tes pieds sont aussi fins que tes mains, et ta hanche
Est Large à faire envie à la plus belle blanche ;
A l'artiste pensif ton corps est doux et cher ;
Tes grands yeux de velours sont plus noirs que ta chair.
Aux pays chauds et bleus où ton Dieu t'a fait naître,
Ta tâche est d'allumer la pipe de ton maître,
De pourvoir les flacons d'eaux fraîches et d'odeurs,
De chasser **** du lit les moustiques rôdeurs,
Et, dès que le matin fait chanter les platanes,
D'acheter au bazar ananas et bananes.
Tout le jour, où tu veux, tu mènes tes pieds nus
Et fredonnes tout bas de vieux airs inconnus ;
Et quand descend le soir au manteau d'écarlate,
Tu poses doucement ton corps sur une natte,
Où tes rêves flottants sont pleins de colibris,
Et toujours, comme toi, gracieux et fleuris.
Pourquoi, l'heureuse enfant, veux-tu voir notre France,
Ce pays trop peuplé que fauche la souffrance,
Et, confiant ta vie aux bras forts des marins,
Faire de grands adieux à tes chers tamarins ?
Toi, vêtue à moitié de mousselines frêles,
Frissonnante là-bas sous la neige et les grêles,
Comme tu pleurerais tes loisirs doux et francs,
Si, le corset brutal emprisonnant tes flancs,
Il te fallait glaner ton souper dans nos fanges
Et vendre le parfum de tes charmes étranges,
L'oeil pensif, et suivant, dans nos sales brouillards,
Des cocotiers absents les fantômes épars !
1.1k
I don't know what i'm doing anymore.
The pen sits in my hand .
The paper on my desk.
but the words come all jumbled up
tangled together
in anger and frustration.
This used to be so easy as a child.
I could throw a stone.
and strike a muse.
but now the stones are boulders
and the muse is a pay stub.
Has life really won me over?
am I really all used up
My mind dry
parched from the absents of words.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
Her sophisticated soul exhibited in the mind of a goddess
cursed with your spells
got a dark cloud composing my thoughts, and it happened of how beautifully the moonlight kisses that darkness
Killed me with your knife but I knew your touch is so gentle and I've died happy between your arms
you spelled words like heaven that I longed to feel them against my lips
thought you were part of my reality
turned out that you belong to my dreams
darling
There behind the ocean
Hearing your heartbeats rhyming with the waves
Creating a symphony of a life time
A scene worth capturing, hanged on the wall of our hearts
absents minds got lost -intentionally
-vagueth
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 8:07 AM UTC
No I am not dead yet.
Nor do I still want to take my life.
Yes today I am beginning to notice.
I am alive.
Yes I have been depressed before.
Yes it got the best of me at times.
I am alive today.
I stand here tall and alive.
I breath.
I don't need to be with her to live.
Her absents no longer holds me under.
Iron longer has me in its grasp.
She's going to notice that I am gone.
And I am just going to say so long.
She did mean a lot but I can't continue on.
It's making me sick.
All her childish bull ****
I am alive now.
Now I won't let her **** me anymore.
I am shutting the door.
Yes I say it now,
But it's always harder in reality.
Harder to say the truth.
The truth is yeah I love her.
Yeah I trust her.
I trust her even when I have no reason to.
She's lied to me nonstop for days.
But for some reason I keep putting myself out there.
Out there for her to manipulate.
No more though.
I'm done with all her games.
I am alive now.
Alive and happy.
Every scar has a memory.
Every night I cried in the past.
No I don't need people who will cause that.
I know who my real friends are.
thank you guys for being there over the last year or so.
The time when I was low.
Yeah Mel was there at times but Violet turned her into something else.
Someone who no longer cared.
Emily she's been there.
Thank you em.
I'll never forget it.
Even when I doubted her she was there.
Not a clue how much it impacted my life.
Literally without you I might not be here.
Thank you again.
Allysa is like a sister even though sometimes she gets on my nerves she is like family.
I'm always gonna have her back when she needs me.
My sister is a **** head rn.
Made some bad choices recently.
Trying to grow up too soon going down the same path I was.
If she won't listen to me that's okay.
She will learn one day.
I guess this is me just venting.
Getting it all out.
Letting go of everything.
Saying...
I am alive.
This time I plan to stay that way.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
The voice of doubt is one much stronger than the voice of reason.
I had not doubted you.
I used my reason as an excuse not to doubt you.
But then your patterns grew gravely familiar.
I could predict your interest, to a point where I was no longer an attraction but a possession.
Merely a requirement to you.
I was nothing more than a scrap.
Something you cared for once, then got weary of when introduced to something beyond you.
Sick of your own effortless routine that I had become a part of.
The part in which I had played the leading role.
I frequented your conceited yet altruistic mind.
Invited you to join mine; so we could aspire together.
You only did as you wished.
Failed to recognize my absents when my side of us went still.
You unsucessfully took note to my dire craving for your attention.
Yet you managed to achieve the stability
of your own well rounded needs.
I now doubt you under the influence of reason.
Your lack of heed gave me no incentive to pursue your mindless regime.
I doubt you know what you have.
What you had.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
I prayed,
a silent prayer
my eyes open and heavy on him,
settling like dust on his edges
dancing like the soft sputtering kisses
of the candle light
beside our bed.
Feeling safe in the shadows and light
that play all along him,
across the celestial lay of his skin
and parade behind his eyes
I prayed.
A silent prayer to empty skies
to the soundless indifferent void
To the absents of god
That I have always known
I prayed.
A silent prayer deep behind my personal truths,
Just in case i'm wrong
just in case he is right
silently in still of night
I prayed
"thank you, for him.
for the carousal of his mind
and fire in his chocolate eyes,
for the warmth in his smile.
Thank you for his devotion
and his sharp sincerity.
thank you for the solar system
rest
upon my arm,
enigmatic, polarized and stunning.
grin induced heart beat thrumming,
thank you
for my goodnight and loving morning.
For the way he takes my hand
at night when he kneels to pray.
For all of this
If you exist
I need to say
I thank you."
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 1:20 AM UTC
Please come back to me friend. You're running to fast and I am stuck in last. I can't fix what has no sound. But to know you're ok, would make my heart feel found. I don't care if you are on the curb, I would still be there holding your hand. But i can't feel you around. I wish it would rain, cuz its one of our favorite things. I would sit in it all day just to see you complain. That i might get a cold, but at least I wouldn't be alone. Yet the absents of things makes me sick, and i want u back, perfect, fine and ok. I try to hope for a better day. But all i see is more pain in clouds coming my way. I try to hold my head high but I am caught by a heavy weight. And it hurts to breathe becuz i can't see your face. Yet you told me not to worry but its hard when i don't hear you for days. And I wish it would rain, cuz its one of our favorite things. I would sit in it all day just to see you complain. Iam never leaving you like I said, so please don't leave me to drain.
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 12:04 AM UTC
My body is numb.
I sit in this empty classroom.
Alone.
I sit here feeling bad for myself.
What's the point of making friends if your just going to die someday.
Leave them all behind to sit in your absents.
Leave them behind to question why the sky wizard chose you.
Leave them behind to feel sorry for themselves.
Sorry they didn't do more.
The only question is why didn't they care when I was here.
Why didn't they care when I was alive?
Why is it when a person dies all the sudden they are noticed.
People appriciate you after your dead.
Like a ghost I plan on being a faint memory after I'm gone.
Nothing but a rainstorm.
There and then gone.
Passing to revel the sun.
I'm tired.
So tired.
Everything hurts and my body doesn't like it.
I'm miserable and I'm like a plague.
I infect the people around me and cast a dark shadow over then as well.
Everyone I meet feels "bad" for me.
They don't really though.
Nobody cares until your gone.
That's the harsh reality.
Once your gone everyone cares.
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 4:31 PM UTC
*touched where it both
pained and pleasured
she, he, they,
son, daughter, husband, lover
returned the same,
in kind
there was no irony
that it was the same place*
*irony was in the kind
*it was of no import
that the touching
was not physical*
*it was different though
in the how, in the what,
that is what made the difference,
the why was why
it sometime
pleasured and sometime pained*
*in the meeting place of the eyes,
revelation - then always results,
in the meeting place of the eyes,
contact most fierce,
yet no contact at all*
*the seismic radius of the tremors
were comprehended,
even measured,
but incomprehensibly
awesome and awful*
*this is how we love,
this is how we hurt,
our nearest ones,
so oft so far away*
*absent forever
or next door
in the same safe bed,
under a roof close to collapse,
sensible insensitive *
[this is senses insane shining mad]
*this is how we love,
this is how we hurt,
our nearest ones,
so oft so far away*
*with a glance, a sneer, a moan, a snarl,
weeping, even when not openly,
a smile, a caress, a passing kiss,
a hard embrace,
emanations all from
the same place*
*in the one and the same place
where pain and pleasure coexist
who among us does not
know well this place
the place where reason absents itself,
at roll call the answer is always*
Present
*and that is the signal
to that place
to commence the uncontrollable
weeping
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 7:30 AM UTC
The night holds a thousand eyes
The day shows it's only one
The night sky presents a thousand stars
The day delights the everlasting sun
The Damsel rich
The Maiden poor
The night is young
The daylight sore
The Two Dead Boys
Alive again
Forgotten the wisdom
The big brawl brought
The cycle it brings
Goes again and again
for memories to come
and the many that came
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 12:40 AM UTC
you told me you loved
the sound of rain
beating on your rooftop
in the relenting heat of august
wearily we awaited the storm clouds to [come] in
the crack of lightning in the sky
the warm wind whipping through the green
at last a grey day
out of the blue
slowly and then all at once
all other noises were drown away
silence filled with the furious pitter patter
millions of watery needles
striking the tin roof
you were a common thought of mine
[back] in that time
fitting, i found it
to dial your number
together we basked in the tirade
of the storm
you laid in your bed
phone pressed to you face
miles away
i laid in mine
listening to your stories
with the orchestra of nature
pervading in the background
not too soon after
the room filled [with] sleepy smiles
and quiet giggles
i laid next to you
watching your eyes
as they wandered from the ceiling to mine
whispering stories to me
[the] same aqueous anthem surrounding us
that time your hands entangled with mine
tonight
the [rain] is knocking at my window
wondering where you’ve gone
our song plays dismally around the room
i'll bet you're laying in your bed
on your side listening too
i hope you wonder if i'm listening
i hope you remember
how much i loved the rain
beating on my roof
my hands reach for the cool side of the bed
where you once would have met me
i can feel your absents on my finger tips
an occurrence filled with so much content
is now filing a gaping hole in my chest
just like the reminiscent rain
your voice leaves me cold
even on the loveliest days
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
A,b,c,d,e,f,g....I promise to Stop loving you when the oceans become motionless.
y eyes rain from the ache inside me.
Ive been pregnant with your absents for 6 years. Can you hear me?
H,i,j,k,l,m,n,o,p....It is said the blind see the most, so I guess I'm not loving you enough for you to see.
Closed mouths dont get fed but, my mouth has been open and you dont dare to feed me the food you eat Q,r,s,t,u,v,w,x,y& z now daddy will you sing with me?
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
simple shade can go such a long way
but also much too far sometimes.
my bones are brittle without sun.
will you take a walk with me?;
to obelisks?
they won't run.
i bought you a shady spot right here.
last year was not as overgrown
as this time's ever-changing clear
view of a body of water that absents
the sky from our view,
like a curtain rod suspiciously placed
to cover things intentionally displayed.
did you bring a machete?; oh, the
shade is much too much now
for my brittle bones to take
any longer and i always thought to myself,
how lucky are we to have a place of our own
but it's never enough for beings like us
to leave a place like this alone.
i wish we could **** up the water
with our tongues and watch as the roots
and tendrils soak back in
to the sponge cake layer;
the mind takes it as an innocent prayer
until the thoughts of after are sneaking
and showing the tickles of veins
spreading evenly over our bodies
like the stains on my bedroom carpet.
it is my wish not to destroy this life
that barricades my growth and hinders
so much more about me.
no, it is my wish to migrate it all inside
my ribs like a house and
despite all the splinters i know i will contract,
allow it to permeate my flesh;
a freshly signed pact.
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 8:33 PM UTC
I am accused
Of being a fraud
In a world were you can be
Whatever you want
And yet
I try to impress them
Writing whatever I feel
So someone will see
My true intentions
I only started this
Because they said
it could that I
could be happy
But it only seems
looking at the number
Stay the same causes
An absents of feeling
I could sit down
And think for
Days
Years
Or even the rest of
My life
And I would be able to
Make a piece of work
Worthy for them
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC
As the crow flies, my farm is less than two
miles from the Willamette River that flows
deep and brown through the fertile valley
of the same name, in Northwest Oregon.
From my porch upon a hill, I have views
out over that valley looking east and north
and as fall comes around, early morning
light and dampness transfers hints of rich
river scents, this added moisture paired
with the absents of wind pervades and
manifests an enveloping shroud of silence,
with low moving banks of slow white
ghostly ground fog that renders striking
visual contrasts to the landscape, with its
stands of emerald evergreen trees, and
autumn dressed orange and yellow leaved
varieties of deciduous ones, along with
sculpted brown newly plowed fields.
Another of Nature's own fleeting ever
changing painted canvases that never
disappoints.
One must rise early at first light on these
chilly morning to witness this seasonal
panoramic scene, but it is always worth
the effort. And what the heck, I'm retired,
I can snap some photos and always crawl
back into my nice warm bed to sleep, or
merely cogitate on what I've been witness to.
Oct 24, 2024
Oct 24, 2024 at 3:34 AM UTC
Show me the heart
who was never cruel
and I will admit my
fallacy in believing
that hate is less
fearful than love.
Always too many absents
at life’s lessons and no one
who raises a hand.
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 10:13 AM UTC
Who are we to say we didnt want you to go? Taking the best… only the good lord know.you wasn't perfect but you were soon to be.greatness in you is what i use to see.
So proud of your achievements and your many awards.seeing you get so far.still brings joy to my heart.god knows why.he knew he had a gift in you. And this is the reason we all loved
you too.You turned every bad situation into a good one.you motivated me to get my education.i still shed some tears in heavy moments but they quickly dissappear when i remember you as i know you.it gives me a sense of relief that your not crying and suffering no more but that you are in a better place looking down on us protecting and guiding us.
It seems so sudden you left without saying good bye.but we both know that goodbye would have been replace with later girl.with a heart and mind like you you could of changed the world.
Although its been hard for us to adjust in loosing a beautiful girl like you especially the way you use to be to people.every time i think about you i feel that absents of your laughter.smiles.jokes and fun times.the way you danced and clown people and surely have a good time.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 3:47 PM UTC
N'attendez pas de moi que je vais vous donner
Des raisons contre Dieu que je vois rayonner ;
La nuit meurt, l'hiver fuit ; maintenant la lumière,
Dans les champs, dans les bois, est partout la première.
Je suis par le printemps vaguement attendri.
Avril est un enfant, frêle, charmant, fleuri ;
Je sens devant l'enfance et devant le zéphyre
Je ne sais quel besoin de pleurer et de rire ;
Mai complète ma joie et s'ajoute à mes pleurs.
Jeanne, George, accourez, puisque voilà des fleurs.
Accourez, la forêt chante, l'azur se dore,
Vous n'avez pas le droit d'être absents de l'aurore.
Je suis un vieux songeur et j'ai besoin de vous,
Venez, je veux aimer, être juste, être doux,
Croire, remercier confusément les choses,
Vivre sans reprocher les épines aux roses,
Être enfin un bonhomme acceptant le bon Dieu.
Ô printemps ! bois sacrés ! ciel profondément bleu !
On sent un souffle d'air vivant qui vous pénètre,
Et l'ouverture au **** d'une blanche fenêtre ;
On mêle sa pensée au clair-obscur des eaux ;
On a le doux bonheur d'être avec les oiseaux
Et de voir, sous l'abri des branches printanières,
Ces messieurs faire avec ces dames des manières.
Le 26 juin 1878.
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