"amending" poems
A laughable matter, how hours seem to change you. Not change you fully, at least not in the way a metamorphosis occurs.
It changes the signs of irritation, the raising alarm and mostly it adds a deep longing.
A familiar feeling weighing down each breath.
It feels like a numb explosion. Like there is more to it, but it never peaks.
It taunts with promises of relief, but leaves you boneless. Instinctively you mark it as an unsatisfying end.
Could be labeled pessimism or rationalization.
You hope for more, you always do.
Maybe it's the stop of the turning clock, the one that resounds heavily each night.
The disappointment will dissipate eventually, but it feels like centuries until it does.
The memories that keep flashing are like salt; the familiar sting of the shame from fresh wounds.
The wind you always carry with you, it drifts you off to foolish daydreams. It helps hold back the inevitable shame and guilt.
Soon you understand, this is all erratic. It must lead to an origin, but it is one you cannot find.
You realize the attachment to this coldness is horrifying. You never plan to be cold, it just catches fire.
Time takes its toll. It takes away the chance of ever amending; of retribution.
The obstacles are clearly organized to hinder much needed evolution.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 10:23 AM UTC
12-17-2-13
Her face flooded with scarlet
her nose flushing out bright red
Did I do it?
Did I do that?
How could I just do that;
was it someone else instead?
She says three separate people
control the thoughts inside my head.
"which one is the realest" she asks.
I'm not pretending when I ask for amending.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
Entrapment
Infringement
Produce it like they would in a sweatshop
Cut you knuckles open and rub them in salt
Stand up
and watch it take hold
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
~for Pamela Rae~
you cannot amend reality by passing a law.
if we could, then we should have one requiring society to
guarantee a happy childhood.
every **** time I propose to myself a resolution
that I am an ok poet, I stumble on to a poet here
of whom I was unaware, and you were, correctly aware,
that brings a good light into the world,
vowing to throw in the towel,
the I'm ok resolution never passes,
voted down 2 - 1;
Against: Myself, I
In Favor: Me
which necessitates try try again
Einstein's Insanity Theorem fool
proofed.
Exclaim! what a goodly word.
If we ex'd our claims (need, due, want) more,
walking in quiet contemplation,
we could climb on our roof (I can) and proclaim (silently)
glory glory hallelujah and it would not matter to
whom (which diety)
we are
addressing.
Outstanding! what a goodly word.
If I could satisfy the claims against me outstanding,
still unsatisfied, while I am yet among the living,
especially the one that are self-propelled,
that would be
outstanding.
I would rather the simple monetary motived corruption
of a dishonest businessman, than the cowardly silence
of the fools we elect to govern us, and gravely pretend
to know what is good for us. I call this,
My Theory of the Greater Corruption.
Word Salad: making crazy combinations of words,
i.e. eggplant smile, vegetable sunrise etc.
hell, I just can't make any up,
it is
cheap and lazy crafty no craftsmanship, craftwomanship
but very self/satisfying and tasty too, I'm sure,
and authentic 100% b.s.
The apocalypse is always nigh.
Ironically, very true.
Let's keep it that way.
neigh neigh neigh.
I write many more words than I speak;
by a very wide margin;
this pleases me,
by a very wide margin.
complexification
(yes, it is a real word) and
glorification
rhyme because they both end in
shunned.
In heaven, the following are outlawed:
yoga, exercise, dieting, crying; denying and lying.
the latter obviate the former.
glory glory hallelujah and hot ****
>•>
4/18/17 2:43am
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 3:21 AM UTC
I’ve been through this before.
First with that last *****
Now it’s just become my personal lore.
How many times do you need to dump me just to understand,
That the reason you keep coming back is because of the grassland.
It seems greener over there,
But mine has flowers that you can’t find elsewhere.
You say that when you dump me, that it’s just a reaction.
I’m supposed to stay and show my compassion.
I admit that I hurt you from the start,
But the back and forth has me bleeding from my heart.
If life’s a play then I guess the ******* is my part.
You want to be at peace,
While also saying I’m your missing piece.
Maybe all it takes is some elbow grease.
We lost the box to the puzzle,
And sometimes it feels like I have to wear a muzzle.
I say dumb **** while at the same time being articulate.
I’m a conundrum.
****** in the head because of where I’ve come from.
I love you and you say you love me too.
When in this lifetime will I believe that it’s true?
I don’t want this to end,
You’re my best friend.
We always make amends, but that’s the issue.
Amending too many times means there were too many crimes.
I’m a perpetrator in need of a tissue.
Tears on my keyboard,
Type out thoughts that can’t be ignored.
I want to start over so your vision of me can be restored.
But I tried too hard and there’s smoke coming from the motherboard.
I need a technician.
Or perhaps a magician.
To pull a thousandth chance with you out of a hat,
So I can prove to you you’re not a doormat.
Every time we chit-chat I fall flat.
And in every relationship, this is where I end up at.
Why’s it always like that?
Making mistakes, being inconsistent.
No wonder you’ve grown to be so distant.
But I think it’s mutual that we acknowledge our love’s existence.
I need assistance to stop my persistence.
You want me out of your life at 10 am,
But also want to get pancakes at 9 pm.
You’re right that I’m not responsible.
But I feel that problem is resolvable.
I think you’re phenomenal.
The drive you have is exceptional,
When you put your mind to it you’re unstoppable.
I guess what I’m trying to say is,
I’m sorry that the nightmares of what I’ve done keep you nocturnal,
But ending this relationship is only optional.
It’s up to you to decide if it’s optimal.
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 7:54 PM UTC
which were the center of the Earth.
A rill, a gentle excite that rolled from side to side
touching the verdant moors and bridging the tepid winds
through the mirthy wood.
She
afluntered, pivoting in circles,
pronouncing an aubade for a throng
anthropolatrating agelasts.
Her palms and dactyls outstretched. A chilliad had passed, still her astereognosis never produced the fields and trunks before her. Amending the acronycal light an aeolistic caitiff arose, piercing the crowd, rising to her circumference. This clapperdudgeon and callet woman rang out in a cacophony of sharp jabbering, then another blellum arrived, then another carker, soon they were all cloffin at the pyre.
Her lips
instantly wet, her mouth broke its pursed chastity, and among the meek she suddenly was overcome with an incredible basorexia.
And so she began, bussing left to right, osculating
the buffoons and bavians.
Some cullion tried their way
towards & towards
and then disappeared in a comestion, another dratchell roused himself, sudorous and covered in culch. The concilliabule was dwaible now, those who weren't prying for her kisses were dwaling about frantically croodling, mooing, even barking. This wild frenzied lot of basiation and baisements. Beazing in the dying sun she began to crose and cough. Her blood and spit, her saliva became estiferous and unstable, she began to eroteme herself, her healthy figure was now ectomorphic. Her thoughts were unsettling, she began to fantasize her own decollation. Some sauntering madman with a sleek leather overcoat and an enormous hatchet hunching over her. It overcame her, this auto deicidal ideology in addition, the sweet kir began to wear off, and all she could feel was lackluster, emptiness, indifference. Eventually her acrasia overcame her and in her accidia and overbearing mania she took her own life. Her head slipped from her shoulders and rolled casually past her body, her knees collapsing before her feet, before her torso. And the abderian men and women cackled,
just sat and stared
her life, her love, all gone and disappeared.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 6:36 AM UTC
Finding Your Rhythm
Your rhythm can have heat,
It can have speed.
Depending upon what you need
In the moment’s feat,
It’s very heartbeat.
Whatsoever gives you power,
Your bio-clock
May rock
That hour.
Power by the minutes is what counts.
It mounts by seconds as you play.
It plays,
And you should let it play
Since rhythm’s power never stays,
Permutating with each pulse.
Respect it, for it’s no one else -
The simplest sample of the minute’s you,
All you are and all you do,
Adapting, altering, amending,
Reconstructing and evolving
As you solve new pages,
Entering and leaving stages.
When I play or sing
Finding tempo’s rhythmic swing
Is key; door’s opening
To fundamentals: moving, sitting, cooking, eating…
Finding beat the core and more.
At the bottom your rhythm
Lies a measure of your pleasure,
An intrinsic part of it;
Pleasure in the heart of it.
Finding Your Rhythm 3.28.2018 Vaguely About Music II; Circling Round Energy, Nature Of & In Reality; Arlene Corwin
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 6:07 AM UTC
Father time abuses his starry-eyed children until lips split,
bruises leave teachers feeling uncomfortable and unnecessarily involved.
Drink up the rocket fuel,
burning makes aches evaporate like **** on pavement,
amending memories until they are only fuzzy recordings of grinning cartoon cats.
Smiles are happy, so true,
but mirrors do not act on impulse so yours must require some more work,
mine was slashed on eons ago,
back when the dinosaurs were glorious and people walked on all fours.
Grindgrindgrind
gnashing teeth and splintering calcium,
he took note of the emotion,
accepted
and moved along,
unharmed by reality
too ignorant to accept absurdity.
A smart lad, curious
he built me a tug boat
to tug along the rivers of consciousness
though I'd rather the alternative
of sweet sweet bliss
and a fistful of throats.
May 14, 2012
May 14, 2012 at 7:30 PM UTC
You are the counterbalance to my mischievous soul.
Providing direction to a wounder-er unsure of where she'll go.
You have become countless breath taking destinations;
Appealing to my wanderlust
pulling from my weary soul
a trust
I would hesitate to think existed,
your presence and persistence
are exceptional,
my perceptions shifted.
Your grin is a force to be reckoned with.
I gave you my will and you bent it.
I gave you my good sense
and you spent it.
Admit it,
you admire my wit,
even when driven to wits end,
we co-exist in perfect contradiction
amending every bit I'm missing.
And when when I whispered we were meant to be,
I meant it.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC
for all your dreams
life dreams that bring fear, butterflies and adrenaline in you like nightmares
life dreams that will never sleep until life itself is at rest
life dreams that you pray about
- to god -
before you go to bed
life dreams that you spend endless nights
-polishing and amending until your eyes shut -
the life dreams that you stay awake and are alive for:
i wish you
godspeed
- t.m
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 12:27 PM UTC
Admit your defeat
relinquish your will and depart from the weapons you held against me
no amending
no treaty or a political stunt to get you back in office or my cubical
I'd rather commit career suicide
but, you've lost
and I will accept your resignation except you expect a pardon
that is ********
yet hilarious
your building is up for sale in my life
and compared to your surrender is air:
Unbreakable
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
She beckons Earth underfoot
Time for Seasons to reset
Goddess of Egyptian Spring, Renpet
Palmshoot reaching, curving, sprouting
Desires let
To fertility of world She sings
Commanding what nature must
Warmth of fresh sun dewed lust
Birth and growth She informs
Of equal trust
Datenut ***** are running slim
Provisions of winter running out
Time for Spring pea planting, no doubt
For Renpet knows and ends
A knowledge drought
Her reign is rain
And this wetness is welcome
Sprouting what just, shall come
Amending reason and truth
She'll come
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 11:59 AM UTC
There's a vividness
to speak of, redder than
wine...where a snowflake's
a white city.
Amending symmetries of
dreams, cut by a sky's
searchless sight.
All flesh a haze, bony scaffolding
of an idol...standing motionless
in a current of centerlessness.
Made immense by a season,
which never gains on its passing.
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 3:48 PM UTC
Partial to a past that explained my experiences in a causal tone. Like a story that had to unfold, I made sure it made sense because I felt myself losing control. I had to have control of it. Apologies for every mistake I’d ever made because amending my wrongs was praying for one night without terrors. Tug of war with God. Cause and effect. I earned my hurt. I earned my hurt.
People that believe in karma drive me ******* nuts. Plagued with guilt from my childhood because I got ***** at 21 and I thought maybe if I had been nicer to Cassandra B on the playground at 9 maybe I could have kept my dignity that night in my dorm room. But it doesn’t work like that.
I have survivor’s hands. ***** calloused, jealous hands. I am not innocent, I am vindictive and manipulative and when I argue with the person I love I get mean. When I talk to myself in the mirror, I am cruel. I am not innocent. I was a bully as a child. I thought all of these things were a part of the reason why someone took my body from me when I was 21.
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 8:02 PM UTC
They adored me,
This staff bethinks me—of the cauldron of my fortress
My Majesty, my beloved,-—Thou sealed our oath
We vanquished our domains;
Amending the ridges of rulers
Wherefor art thou atrabillous?—
I am always here..
My shoes, perfume, dresses, skin!—
Oft, thy presence doth bathe in battlefields,-- but my love, believe me
Thy half hath never trade scents with others..
On a maudlin hour,
Fictions beleaguering my honor
Whose feathers perched on papers?—
Dare to charge me?
I shalt pour wine on those
No man could halt my portrait;—
This necklace wilt stay on me.
May 7, 2020
May 7, 2020 at 3:04 AM UTC
falling for you
stings like a mosquito
******* your strawberry blood
pumping through your veins
attempting to reach your amending heart
unsteady breaths rapidly increase
hoping this bite won't sting like the last
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 7:28 AM UTC
Once upon a time,
we lived in Shangri-log
It was hollow and cozy
and safe from the fog
We built us a kitchen,
out of sticks and stuff
We built benches and shelter
and swept away the duff
We were working on the hill,
early that spring
Away from our log,
when the bear gave a ring
He raided all of our salty snacks,
and even some of our liquor stash!
And all he left was a big bear mess,
and a pile of.. I'll let you guess...
So we learned our lesson, no more storing food
We cleaned up camp and life was good
But we had to return to our toil
Spreading horse ****
amending soil
The next time we returned
to our big round squat
Something was wrong,
but we didn't know what..
We decided not to worry
and we had a party
We were lit up all night
and the sky was starry...
As the sun was coming up,
the time for sleep rolled around
But as we laid down to rest,
we heard a startling sound...
Beep! Beep! Beep! Filled the air!
And a churning of trees!
They were clearing the area,
We needed to flee!
We snatched up some things,
hid the rest in a stump
Our buddy was collapsing
his tent on the run
We got to the commune,
but no sleep would be found...
We all were uneasy about
bulldozers on ground
At the end of the day,
When the workers were gone
We dashed up the hill,
to check on our zone
Our camp was untouched,
Our things were all fine
But the brush had been cleared
all under the power lines...
And since our log was exposed, it was time to go
(I think we can take a hint, dontcha know...)
We cleaned everything up,
Tore everything down
Well almost everything,
Our old bed's still around
The years have gone by,
The brush has regrown..
It's hard not to wish we could live in our old home...
Apr 23, 2021
Apr 23, 2021 at 4:21 PM UTC
Lights gazing
Shadows pass by
Whispers and murmur
Never reaching my prize
Multitude of chaos
Altitude of difference
Even amongst the crowdy mob
I stay amending my angry sob
As drastic as the light and night
Will I always seem like an unreliant ghost
Never bothered or cared
As i stand alone with a silent stare
Days pass by
Seasons glide by
But still am like the Happy Prince
With metal tears to be covered till brims
Alone and ghostly I will ever stay
My story with just a bit of a change
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 6:06 AM UTC
When the song has ended
And you've learned a lesson
Yes, the song has finished
And we're amending
The message is sending
When the song has finished
When the story has ended
People are offended
Give them insight
Try as they might
Riot and fight
When you sing it to your lover
Hoping that it will boil over
If you go under cover
Do you love her?
Do you want her?
Do you need her?
Get me front row tickets to the crucifixion
Freud always spoke of oral fixation
I’ve got nothing to hide
In Jones town the bodies all dropped
Turns my stomach into knots
The master mind was never caught
He ate their souls
They ate his lies
The audience just cries
Before I lay
On my death bed
And they drop the bomb
I want to be
I want to see
The winds move mountains
Return to me
Back into my life
I’m getting sick of being beaten down
Looking for answers never found
And I do my best to never make a sound
Oh so close but way to distant
All alone with no assistance
Go away from me no, come away with me
What have I done to my life?
What have I done to my destiny?
Murdered, I killed it stopped it completely
Kicked it endlessly until blood was drawn
Too many faces to which I’m bound
I think I hear a tiny voice
It says to make a choice
I want my freedom and I need it
I want my freedom and I need
Out
Now
Out now
Senseless fight saved
Record night made
Not a word
My gracious lord
Not a word
When the song has finished
And you learned a lesson
Yes the song has ended
And were amending
The message is sending
When you sing it to your lover
Hoping that it will boil over
If you go under cover
Do you love her?
Do you want her?
Do you need her?
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:29 PM UTC
I've lived my life
In the clutches of hatred.
I'd love to watch parts of the world burn,
But I'm done taking my self-hatred out on
The world
And everyone better than me.
Yeah,
I guess you could say I'm angry.
But I'm angry at myself,
For never being good enough
For anyone.
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 2:25 PM UTC
Mine November
It was the sunny November;
The day which I always remember
Coz all of friends were same and somebody came
Unexpectedly...
To make the words tunely;
And ecstasy to live even strongly
To fragrance mine flower
with amending in an hour
Lushly...
see the moon isn't brightening like the same
since the day you have came
mine bird got its nest
and my life is glorious till the rest
Unamendingly...
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
I have a story in my mind
The broken walls
They two sided They stand side ways
Greave in the shadow for days
A chapter erased teared is the verse we heard
From zero to one
From the beginning to the continuation
For the will to seal determination
Loose ends seeks attention of
A broken siren
A set off
A rough climb virginity it broke
The last time a fall was a mock
A walk wasn't the talk
Boundaries reshaped
Heights reformed
The standard is high it needs restored
A sigh of disappointment
That's a far cry
A soldier lost the army
Shooting blanks with a
Broken pistol
A bang off
Is standing a better option
A knock on the floor is owning
Circular rhythm
It's not deep
It's sharp
Gave up on hope yet hoped not to give up
Yawning is stretching it feels home
The walls looks distant the grip is gone
How to knit and grind
The walk of shame is blind
Pains paints mourning of sound
That's round
That's loud
These walls drives rotation
heard a summon of a
Broken siren
A set off
A day worse time is the same
The remainder remains in the game
What's right wasn't the main
What's left is blood of the injector
Holding hope realising surrender
Human gender possesses agenda
Behind A smile of a
Broken accent
A sad love
A call of duty logic is the reason
A set on surely is a mission
Hugged by notion
]Blinded by passion
Faith is an assassin
In hunt for action
Thunders are landing
The script is fading
The radius is raising
A few who stands up
Amending the loudness of the sound of a
Broken siren.
A set off
Deep instruments it feels
A few walks it needs
From a wall to another
From the first to another
Slow steps of a driver
A siren destroys
Like a scratchy record
Complement is an effort
Optical is optional
The centre is original
Initial Destination of a
Broken Siren
A set on.
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 3:32 PM UTC
Ten seconds was plenty of
time for me
to change my mind.
The people I love today
who never knew then
feel the relieving emotion
of how I chose
to stay.
I lost my love,
I got pushed and stripped
of my control.
I grew very strong
I wrote out my heart.
I may have sobbed,
I may have thrown,
I may have sacrificed nourishment
and looked away.
It was time to open new doors
and let some in.
Certain possibilities revoked,
amending for easier ways to remain.
The scissors are now in the trash.
Others found their deserved love.
Moved on from the
threatening gang.
When we all let go,
we know it was not meant to be.
Happy memories
are not to present
what is no longer deserved,
but to put us back in our
best moments.
These moments I remember,
looking into people's eyes.
They fill with tears
after knowing I could have been
gone.
There would be no community of
laughter and love.
Nobody would have ever met
if I hadn't stayed.
Somehow I was stopped,
doesn't matter who or how.
You all made me happy
I stayed.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC