"anticlimactic" poems
I once knew a boy
Who breathed in words like air
We crafted a book together
And selected each sentence with great care
That boy was the best part of every genre
He flowed like sweet poetry,
Kept my thoughts racing like a thriller,
And never gave everything away like all good mysteries
But that boy left cold turkey
Scrawled me a messy ending
He would never bother to rewrite
I guess that he was only pretending
I never thought you
Would pull a Mockingjay on me
Unsatisfied and bitter
Is how I will forever be
Because our love is a cliffhanger
And you pushed me over the edge
The days waiting for you like
The wind carrying ripped pages
It was anticlimactic
No closure in sight
You let go like it was nothing
While I hold on with all my might
And so you will continue
To breathe in hearts
The way you do air
To you, it's become an art
I will carry on
Gripping a jutting branch called hope
I'll pray you give me a sequel
To the romance we wrote
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 8:21 PM UTC
I went hunting with my dad once
Around August or September
I was younger but old enough to remember
Windhowls of the deep forests
Sounded like owls everywhere
Straying from our camper - I didn't dare
It didn't take long
It was almost too soon
Anticlimactic & too simple to be true
Just planted ontop of the weeds
Just a few feet into the brush
Lay a pile of stuff
Disshevled and unkempt
Motionless and covered in burrs
Save for the sleight of a gust to weave thru its fur
The bones weren't white or polished
The cartoons had misled
It sat there in pieces & browning, instead
Skeletal, like random things tossed together
A velcro roadkill tumbleweed
Dried out and unable to bleed.
My dad told me it was a coyote
I thought,
There's no way that was a coyote - a coyote?
It's just a pile of stuff
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 1:16 PM UTC
Alas, awakened to the glorious smell
Of grieving petrichor and lichen
Intoxicating scents of spells,
Has left my thoughts forsaken.
Aggrieved, unclean,
I wash myself in the river,
Alone again, once with my mind,
The cold water does bring a quiver.
Rushing gently across its bend,
Its current does drag along
A heartache inside a massive depth,
A misery that floods it anon.
It seeks to help wash stains of past,
Blood from mistakes without thought,
Caressing my hands as I dip them in,
It cleans at the souls I’ve wrought.
I’ve brought spite to all I’ve been,
I bathe in hatred and stigmata,
Correctional growth of paradigmatic folly,
Proves equality to tumultuous fodder.
-
There has been death here,
Drowning and sickness,
Villainous nature subjugated
To corruption and bleakness.
Disparaging remarks whispered of men,
Bring to light lost life and love,
Discouraging thoughts of mine herein,
Anticlimactic and soulless above.
The trees began to whisper,
Moving slightly in the breeze,
I thought I would move quicker,
But something that couldn’t trapped me.
-
Bringing about a fallout cloud
That kept my mind thus smoked,
It is hard to cherish anything
That the water itself could soak.
-
I wanted to leave,
But I was locked in the wood,
I began to need it,
Like any Stockholm would
The treasure trove in which I was kept,
Was something of a fairy-tale
It hid monsters, death,
And only one nightingale.
Its swansong allowed me to sleep,
Gorgeous at night, it cast in weep,
A story of one so scared, The fear of bleeding out
One day upon the growing creep.
Vines and lies surrounded me,
Its whole existence was false,
Nothing could be this natural,
And the dead forest scoffed.
-
Could there be someone else here?
Doubtful, I began my search,
Through vasts I spied, time again,
But nothing upon this earth.
The forest fell in love with my heart,
Its emotions curious to her,
She tortured me with affection,
My reality was blurred.
I found my way across her floor,
Trekking miles to a never-end.,
Purgatory does not know this pain,
Hopeless abandon, fell unto myself to fend.
A trip, a fall, unique and random,
I impaled myself with a sharp cry,
A sharp palisade jutting out, I then whispered
“What if I don’t want to die?”
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
Walk up the street
and put a bullet in my brain,
right there, bang.
This is what we wanted!
Look at the excitement.
This is what we wanted.
See how it jumps up that barrel?
See how it pops and clicks?
Look at the excitement,
It's all for kicks. We're all for kicks.
A wonderful experience.
Splitting hairs into my left temporal lobe,
pushing through the dermis, squeezing
through the skull --oh, that tingles a little,
I must admit--
before finally sticking to
my primary auditory cortex.
My oh my, what a finish.
Anticlimactic, just as I deserve.
Appears that there is an
irony in everything I do.
I finally don't have to hear it anymore,
there's a bullet blocking me. Over and
over, but no more. No longer able to
hear you say those things you said
and my body collapses on the corner
where you told me you wanted me to die.
And I told you that what you were
would not happen again.
One promise I will keep.
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
Disastified. Dissatisfaction. Disappointing, disappear.
Disability, disdaining- disgusting
Difficult
dislike
Disgrace
Let down. Saddened. aghast - balked.
Beaten. chap-fallen - deafen.
Bitter-pill. Blind.
Alley. Blow.
Anticlimactic.
Crestfallen. thwarted, foil. baffle, bilk - discomfited, frustrated.
thwarted.
Unsuccessful
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
this party sux.
the boy who invited me was my first boyfriend
in ninth grade and i still want to make-out on his parents water bed.
i shuffle out into the cold air, carbon-dioxide puffs visible as i exhale.
i make my way to the apartment complex where i used to *** cigarettes from Jeff
- floor 3, room 57, shaggy, enjoys Jose Gonzalez tunage.
laying on my favorite bench,
with my hair falling over the sides to the sidewalk covered in gum
that now looks as black as the cement roads,
i take a visual photograph
~ aesthetical phenomenon.
i save this stargaze.jpg into my file entitled,
‘show me something memorable when i get Aspergers’.
inside i hear shrill cheering and glasses clinking. it must be midnight, already.
a tingle of relief runs down my spine. i’d rather spend my first few minutes of the New Year focused on the one thing i put above most.
the universe and i have developed
interpersonal secrets, theories, stories, feelings, et cetera.
he knows everything about me. i know nothing of him.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
Jesus jizzes holy juices,
That you people gently rub upon your faces.
Liers lie to protect that which they deny,
To the lavished living people.
Why won't the sun set,
On this selfish age of *****
I'm tired of these try-hards taking over,
My rightful territory.
Come hold my hand,
As we hoist our way to Heaven.
We'll need to step on some somebodies,
To sleep with the silver lining.
All I need is the native nature,
Of the not so naive heart.
Can anyone help me heal,
These horde cuts from hell?
Let's all do the calm camel,
And claim the dunes of the cautious for our country.
A country we all call America,
The anticlimactic antagonist that aims for anarchists.
Words will always be that way,
Of the world's wary warriors of peace, protection, and self worth.
And with that I say,
So long.
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 3:36 PM UTC
I am the repetition of many stories.
Death,
Heartbreak,
Anxiety,
Mistrust,
Isolation,
Vulnerable,
Repetition.
Is it okay to hate myself,
If I'm just like every story that
People hate?
Dreaming too much
With too little accomplishment?
Anticlimactic?
Insensitive?
Destructive?
Rude?
Wasteful?
Bratty?
Never getting it
Through my thick skull?
I do too many things wrong,
My good will never outweigh my bad.
I trust and love people
More than I should.
More than I trust and love myself.
If you knew who I really was,
Could you see my mask?
Would you hate me for it?
Sorry.
I said too much again.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
The thought of loving
Brings me to you
Who I carry in my pocket
Like a needle
*** could be joyous
Or, anticlimactic .
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 7:19 AM UTC
memories.
forgotten freedom.
caught insomnia
in a mausoleum,
fighting nausea.
am i doin well?
drool against my will
until the light floods in.
sunday tunnel vision.
perfect colorblind.
ill-prepared and scared.
falling way too high.
don't change the subject.
my stomachs upset.
burning lovesick.
stick together eye to eye.
stitch letters together
into dated wisdom.
winds of change approaching,
much too proud to listen.
mortgage mortuaries,
buried in my debt.
have you ever slept?
i dreamt a dream then i forgot.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 2:32 PM UTC
give me some sort
of interaction
I find myself now
yearning for it so
I'm lonely it's no
secret, no surprise
and certainly no
blessing, no dream
nor nightmare
unleashed upon me
I can't tell you what
that could mean
I wouldn't know what
to do with you if I had
you, sympathetic lady
I don't know much of
anything anymore, I've
yearned so fully lately
I need some feeling to
distract my mind from
the things I've seen
there is necessity
in my yearning, the
warped clarity it brings
I need the touch of
a woman
I'm tired of the scratch
of any other girl
batted eyelashes, pretty
lashes on trusting backs
it's all anticlimactic
yet I'm still so confused
by women
enigmatic woe-
catalysts
flowers bloom
in their step
cradling art
in their wake
I wish I could lie
pacified with a soft
warmth at my side
till the weight, gently
lifted from my back
sets upon my eyes
ah, love
I grow so bored with
feeling lonely
I'm so exhausted
with never knowing
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC
the day I see you again and
my mind turns into a screen scrolling through a seemingly never-ending list of words I've written about you
and my tectonic plates shift to reveal a gaping valley
between the peaks of What I Felt For You and
How Ordinary You Are
and i'll feel an anticlimactic realization
and ill feel relieved
but also sad
and I will have nothing to write about anymore
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
Voice vibrations Keep them together fasten/
transcending trends fashion/wear on you ever lasting birthday suit/
if the boot fits suit yourself Cinderella/
if you lose it
the truth reflects in the mirror/
full of suspense save the dramatics/
chasing after the light a foreshadow/
all the hype ain't write anticlimactic/
ring around the Rosie/
plagued million ways to die hyperbole?/
a watershed moment
pivotal talk is affordable/
But those that inscribe
the inside of ones mind/
from pictures form designs which illicit and describe/
can alter mankind/
priceless
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 3:09 PM UTC
Under a new night sky,
Wondering if my past is a life that I didn't let die,
Or a reason to remind me how to feel alive,
Is it the gear that lets me drive,
Or is it a parking brake,
A new night sky,
With the same twinkle,
A new cup and different wrinkles,
Still the goofy smile,
And the anticlimactic trial,
That the jury is still oot,
Long days are long days,
And what they say are still what they says,
The night sky hasn't changed,
And the writing still feels a little deranged,
It's still the past stars,
And the flashing lights of karaoke bars,
Just more cowboy hats,
I'm still adjusting to my same night sky,
And the past is a story that is a disastrously beautiful lie,
That I didn't let die,
Because my future depends on it
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 3:13 AM UTC
She'll always be mine, in my mind, she was just too kind, she didn't see I was blind, she didn't hear me in rewind, gripping the gears we grind. Slipping through the best time of my life.
My heart's shredded like weak lettuce, no function ****** relapsing sex-addict. Choice is asymptomatic my anticlimactic, sexless ****** maggot.
She found out, I was ground out, last boxing bout. Hot flame snuffed out, no more volcano spout, just get the **** our , you're off this route.
This is my dream now, gotta get back somehow. I gotta get a rolls Royce, then she'll feel my voice. No need to waste no more words, she only wants a new purse, she gonna jet or else.
Sorry story has yet to unfold, I'm bearing my soul so don't betray my song. Ice any intuition, your heart will always win. This body is prepossessed, we are slaves to libido's blessing.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
Awakened by my neighbor's loud music
"Another day" I say. "I expect the boring."
So I get out of bed and wash my face.
Look at the mirror, what a waste of space.
The chilly wind surrounds me in my bathroom
I shiver and shiver again,
shiver more,
shiver less.
I put on my Sunday clothes,
eat some light Sunday breakfast,
pray to God that something
extraordinary happens to me
today.
But 24 hours pass and
He fails me yet again.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 5:15 AM UTC
__[Hermit]__
_/ˈhɝmɪt /_
A recluse; someone who lives alone and shuns human companionship.
One last promise of a kiss; but who hears the words of
someone’s misplaced lips— Memories are all archived, those
experiences, a treasure to bury deep in the chambers of a heart
And any extra time: an excuse for me to procrastinate…how I
choose to express my reasoning, is an explanation for another day
_for the all the memories we had, will all remain locked away
our experiences a treasure I’ll never get the pleasure to
saviour in their worth. and any reason to chase after them
all in a day, becomes the procrastination of tomorrow…
our story ends here_
In a thin book of divination; the conclusion of a love
that had the fill of a loaf of bread- here we are- with the
crumbs, holding onto what’s left. There is no grasping it.
All climaxes eventually fall into the obscurity of being
an old familiar harmony; the laughs of many, soon becomes
the quit chuckles of one who sits later alone. And all joyous
songs must play their very last chord
_anticlimactic will be the story of us, painfully laughing ourselves
to sleep— those fortunate enough to sing our once beautiful song-
the words, chords, keys, and harmonies are all gone…
our story ends here_
I am something inadequate; a follower to the gun,
the bullet that led me astray in its cold lead. Still don’t
lend me your sorrow; shunning the idea of love
For the gun that killed a benevolent concern, was
a gun I had pointed at myself.
__…Bang!__
Jul 21, 2024
Jul 21, 2024 at 9:20 AM UTC
I wrote this for you,
but don't be disappointed
when you realize
that it's quite
anticlimactic.
Nov 17, 2010
Nov 17, 2010 at 6:37 PM UTC
It's being cancelled before it's time.
It's getting drunk off a glass of wine.
It's a full moon through clouds of pollution.
It's talk, talk, talk and no revolution.
It's no result and all anticipation.
It's ******* your own imagination.
It's eating without satisfaction.
It's science with no chain reaction.
It's getting some and wanting more.
It's asked for I.D. at a liquor store.
It's getting old and wanting more.
It's hoping, praying that there is more.
It's dying before you read the end.
It's living for a life pretend.
It's a half-full take on an empty cup.
It's slitting wrists and waking up.
It's falling in love over and over again without a real sense of hope about the future or a true grasp of why you are here and what it all means and why the world works in such a backwards way and why they all lied to us and why they all have such lovely smiles and lovely eyes (and dynamite tastes and senses of humour) and why I was mixed together in such a way that I would have about twenty one solid years before I ceased to function as a healthy human being.
It's just -
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 5:52 PM UTC
at finding my insides a conical waste,
unfettered and zealous, I strolled deep into flames
in jungles of obesity and anticlimactic falls
the auras of her spells instantly dissolve
and all of the noises his bloated coffin gave
removed what remained, inside
velvet smoke culled like a viper
exhuming its prey
now hobbled crutches sway at the prow
(ship of gold holding more blue than the sea)
inhaling drops of silicon through the heated chemical rain,
melting
praying for this specter to absolve
even as it was forgiven in Eden,
now blue and useless
buried in clouds
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 3:20 AM UTC
It seemed like our eyes only met by chance
but when you smiled and asked me to dance
I've never believed in love at first glance
but something about you had me entranced
and we moved all night to the beating of my heart
and I guess that's where I felt the first spark
I suppose I was blinded by her dancing's wildness
so i asked if she'd like to go somewhere more private
but I was surprised by her sudden shyness
eventually she slowly, coyly nodded in silence
something inside my snapped at that sight
and soon we were kissing by flickering candlelight
I don't remember when we took off our clothes
but the sight of her body was beyond description in prose
I was so enraptured that for a moment I froze
then she drew me close, a faint smell of rose
finally overcome by our desires,
we were making love like wildfire.
but there was no happy end
nothing so romantic
There was no fight
nothing so dramatic
simply returned to friends
something so diplomatic
for that night filled with magic
perhaps it feels anticlimactic
but left with our burnt out passion
all that remained of love were ashes
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
The veritable Beginning of the End
isn't a terribly significant
(or ominous) thing
if its just where
you have
always
been
!
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 10:39 AM UTC
Intense
is this great,
one of
a kind country,
the
United States
of America.
Intense
is the
political
brainwashing
taking place
of those
left of
center.
Intense
and angry
are left wing
folks after the
witch hunt,
Mueller report
duped them
and everything
Russia
Russia
Russia.
Intense
is the
ratings
plummeting
of all
left wing mainstream media propaganda machines like
CNN and
MSNBC.
Intense
is the
Impeachment
talk by
the
Imbeciles
on the left
that have
NO POWER
in the
Senate to
do so.
Intense
is the
feeling
of a possible
clash
between
pink puxxy
hat wearing
baby
murderers
and
2nd Amendment
loving
American Patriots,
Deplorables,
Concrete jungle of New York "rednecks" and "smelly Walmart shoppers"
Intense
I stand
in defense
of my duly elected
President,
by the people,
President Donald J. Trump!
Intense
Antithetical
and
Anticlimactic.
written by me... ..
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 3:08 PM UTC
A solar eclipse of angelic proportions stretches across the day sky.
Space and time stopping for just a moment.
Waging factions joining hands for a temporary ceasefire.
To halves are whole for a moment.
Just a moment.
Then they move past, uncoupling again.
The world begins to move again.
Cars drive on, taxis honk their horns, people cross the streets of life.
What seemed so cataclysmic and final; was merely anticlimactic and dissolvable.
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC