"adamancy" poems
I left the scent of bleach
To the palms of my father
And disavowed his residence,
A rock atop, “Mount Redeye.”
Let him keep the – sore back,
Torn ankle and manic boss too.
In adamancy, I mention this,
Special sort of, “resolute,”
While sipping nectar
Blanketed ether
Come the first minute
I ought be somewhere else.
And it’s when our sun greets,
The, “guilt,” the, “grief,”
Or tomorrow’s, “acquiesce,”
That I’d taste an awkward
Twitch of, “failure,”
Unbecoming last night’s plum;
Something lesser than sweet,
And a torture at tip of tongue –
An existence’s, “respect,”
Fermented, “20 years,” overdue,
Come peak, the admission of
My unrelenting weakness.
And though I’d never really
Known, “Him,”
I knew what he did,
I did what he did,
And’d lasted only days,
Having worked if only hours.
I’d left jobs before; he couldn’t.
I’d walked before; he wouldn’t,
And how my sweet amnesia failed;
But rather, scarred; burnt sacred,
Blunt, and brim of soul, prior
Sobriety and when I wept, “Father.”
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC
I will not refrain from making this personal
You have dwelled in me long enough
To force my hand
This hand, that now, won’t stop shaking
Because of you
Scribbling ink upon paper-
Smudged with sweat from my brow
Inside
The fires of your hell,
Outside
The tundra of your stare,
Rattle my brain
And from me you drain
My strength and my patience
I retain only adamancy
To rival your vexation
You, who have crippled me so
I pray you know, how much I loathe
Your pestilent touch
But I beg you still,
To keep my hands,
To keep my head,
To leave me this much.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 2:45 PM UTC
The first spring
There’s this barrier,
Either of contempt or pride.
Further exchange of words,
Watching you pantomime,
Reading your mind,
Engulfing the spaces we worked.
You were on the other side;
A simpleton with a great mind.
Barrier: Glass-like but steel.
The other side was me,
A vessel of conceit and pretense.
The distance made by the war
Of tugging and pulling drew me out.
It made sense:
I never got to you.
Instead, encased in fragility and adamancy,
I was caught in between.
Breathless and shamed,
A fool who believed.
Second spring came,
Still encased in dense air.
I remained satisfied,
You’ve crossed the other, other side.
Not to me or where I was,
But to the intensest place.
Watching you, I stopped struggling.
A leaden body replaced Houdini,
who never truly escaped.
I faced my death as the glass crossed and cut,
Tearing me whole.
Unshattered but assailed
with withering condemnation.
Regret, it may be it
To never dared knowing,
trying, and believing.
Self-abjection is all there is.
Deep anguish and boiled eyes,
Unused lungs and cased gasps,
Churned stomachs and a sliced mind;
A night of wilting and rue,
A kiss of damnation and a touch of breath,
Caresses of Judas’ darkest blue,
Impassioned foreplay to one’s lovely death,
Copulation in hell with Valentine,
It is bliss to know that such is a dream
Of life, of love, of hope, of memories in galleon’s dusts
The end to **** with the whimper of lust.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC