"archs" poems
I see you in a way most people dream of;
pictures do no justice, words barely scrape the surface
with your eyes that makes me want to sin
undoubtedly beautiful beyond understanding
with smiles and laughs that brightens everyone around you
making it a sight never to be forgotten or unloved
with figures so tempting even the faithfull-ed can't resist
every curves, intersection and archs within you all divine
but mostly i am in love with you,
i am in love with the idea of you i've made of you over time
so i was you ways people dare not, loved you in ways people prayed for
Oct 25, 2020
Oct 25, 2020 at 4:10 PM UTC
Nobody is in love.
Shoulder to shoulder, flesh spilling over
Flesh: our warm bodies heave
And contort together, leaving no room
For sentiment that goes deeper than
Your off white down comforter.
Nobody is in love.
The harsh sunlight seeps in
Through down turned blinds,
And thin, translucent eyelids,
Both half open, but oblivious to the
Indifferent world. Life is too much with us-
Never leaving us alone to really feel:
The cold, smooth wooden floor pushing up
Against the delicate archs of our sinewy feet,
As they drop down to meet the brisk morning air,
That seems to coat everything revealed and left vulnerable
By the crumpled up sheets limply collapsed over the headrest,
Or the soft, steady breathing
Of someone left unstirred by the dizzying
Relay of thoughts that dance across my
Foolish mind. No one is in love, here.
The last fragment of hope
Was forgotten underneath mismatched blankets
That bear the faint scent of lavender fabric softener sheets
And something that lingers nameless beneath your presence.
The indented pillow, where you lay your head
Holds fast your hollow shape,
As if to remind us that reality is only as real
As those who are brave enough to feel it.
Time treads on and on,
Leaving us scrambling over coffee tables
And yesterdays newspaper strewn across the bedroom floor,
Blindly groping the abysmal space to find something
That isn't really there. Instead it's nestled between
The tiny slivers of our hearts,
Scattered across neon billboards and thee star hotels,
Pleading with us to acknowledge it's elusive presence
Before the world runs out of excuses,
And we're met with a big boom,
That probably will never even be felt.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
Call me antediluvian,
But I want to hold you by your hand
Kiss you on the cheek
Whisper, I love you
Call me delirious
I'm just in love.
It's hard to say,
That your body animates me
It's hard to say,
That I want you
It's hard to say,
That I want to caress your every flaw with my tongue
It's hard to say,
That I want to make love to you.
It's hard to say
What words cannot do
Like art
I want to draw you
Trace every inch of you with my fingers
Read every bit till your breath hinges
Watch every part till your toes curl.
It's hard to say,
What words cannot do.
Let me taste your thoughts with my tongue
Inhale the sounds you make
Exhale and grunt to the way your back archs
It's hard to say
What words cannot do.
When there's so much to do
That words cannot say
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 11:39 AM UTC
a double rainbow,
embroidered the sky
reaching its way to the shore
entangling with the foam
on the border of a land and water
i wonder why the first thought
that etches to my mind
is a hue of a ghost, standing by,
shoulder to shoulder
like the double rainbow
we share our archs
our souls bend together,
yet we're so far apart
i wonder what kind of face
you'd make, would you smile
would your eyes gleam,
would they reflect the colors
of the sky?
or swallow it all, the way your being swallowed me?
i wonder do the rainbows, alike
yearn for each other
do they wish to entwine,
do they wish to reach a shared equilbrium?
the rainbows eventually disappear
the rain droplets cease, yet the
shadow of your silhouette remains
in the corners of my mind
Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 4:29 PM UTC
shivers roll over me, like that poem in third grade,
about the noises of the ocean like a dog’s bark
my eyes roll back, like that movie in fifth grade,
about the devil being casted out of that boy
hands gripping, like that documentary in sixth grade,
about the person hanging off a cliff, a foot away from death
body arching, like that class in seventh grade,
about the Roman’s building archs in their empire
sounds being heard, like that music i listened to in eighth grade,
about drugs leading to an escape, alcohol not being poison
if i down a few more, will i be free? like our country says,
in the ancient text written by Mr. Washington? will i be
voided from the pain, like those prescription pills mommy
takes? will there be a new beginning like all those Disney
princesses had? or will i live through all this suffering like
Ghandi? come through a leader? painless and harmless?
or is this all a lie to conceive that thinking equals maturing,
or like blooming, only the beautiful are devine
cole 2/6/14
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
I've a question
Needing resolve;
It's not as big
As the start of the universe;
Or the existence of the netherlands.
It's not a To be or not to be,
Or anything about the Papacy,
Or the question of the Trinity;
Or any other religious decree.
It's not a question of good or bad,
Or why I'm here,
Or why we're sad.
I'm not asking about nucleur waste,
Or our desire to travel outer space.
Those are big ones
I couldn't ask,
I can't answer ones so vast.
No, this itch I have
That needs a scratch,
This ***** of an itch
That archs my back:
What should it be.
What will I make,
A caf or decaf?
My great debate.
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 12:38 AM UTC
"Do you like me" she blushes
all child like, pretending innocence and purity.
"i like u" he says
all wishing she weren't so filled with insecurity.
This is the role you play when you play in love.
Who will be the savior, the peasant and the Dove.
Who will play the child and who will play the son.
Who will play the mother, when her season comes.
"but do you love me" she asks, smiles and childish charm.
"i love you" he says as he holds to her arm.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 10:36 AM UTC