"ashy" poems
My Frankenstein monster
erects in the dense night
a soliloquies of remedies
traced on pasted wall paper
It bids faster as the kites fly
high above the Himalayan
feeding respect to the sun
to radiate its vector rays
It whispers of this world
a spice of colours and patterns
a windy dainty silky road
wrapped with satanic ribbons
As the masses gather on the poles
to dance the mayday festival
the pagan gods shake the monster
their gold merry as the cloud chills
The bonfire embers and trembles
the palates vanish in the ashy wind
the crowds grow in bonded unity
the monster smiles in rhymed terms
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 5:47 PM UTC
Based on a painting, "Nuclear Puppies", by Julie Nagel, 2001
You’re a mutant, you know—
got funny dog babies sprouting
out of your head like they were
ears. Those copies of your face
look up at a sky of ashy gray,
perked and tense. Are you listening
to yourself? What choir
of dog-eared deformities
sings to you? Maybe they should have
howled louder before we dropped The Bomb.
Maybe the yellow caterwaul of their
melting butter bodies would have stayed our hand.
I doubt it though.
This is what we do. We burn things.
We tinker, adding and subtracting until
what’s left is blasphemy—until what’s left is
you. A yellow almost-dog, a sagging
body with melted flesh where there should
be fur. Sad monster; beg your alms
from the atomic Frankensteins who made you.
Your skyward eyes are bright, still happy
anywhere but here. But your abominable
body lies here staring into gray space with
Alpo still sticky on your nose, wet, brown snow.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
I am fourteen
and my skin has betrayed me
the boy I cannot live without
still ***** his thumb
in secret
how come my knees are
always so ashy
what if I die
before morning
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.
I have to learn how to dance
in time for the next party
my room is too small for me
suppose I die before graduation
they will sing sad melodies
but finally
tell the truth about me
There is nothing I want to do
and too much
that has to be done
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.
Nobody even stops to think
about my side of it
I should have been on Math Team
my marks were better than his
why do I have to be
the one
I have nothing to wear tomorrow
will I live long enough
to grow up
and momma's in the bedroom
with the door closed.
9.3k
I've been ****** over and left for dead what makes you think I can't rise up and lyrically behead at least you were honest and said that you genuinely didn't like me but **** you I tried to pursue you I put my pride to the side told you all my demons i contained inside now I have to excorsice my hell from this ****** hellion I'll burn your soul like Ether either you or that ashy **** that's been on your nuts since day one I slay son **** you and him he can have your drunk *** I've blasted on to bigger and better things than an anorexic ***** who only is honest when she's of the **** I glimpsed what could've been and you through it away it's too late now watch me make millions and you'll be the first call offering up ***** like it's on a dinner plate **** you **** you wasting people's time eating my heart like a sandwich you should've made me now you can eat these nuts oh wait you've already had enough dragged on your face maybe even had a few golden showers you little coward
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 5:14 PM UTC
A little promiscuous thought.
Bubbling to the surface of your mind
like molten rock from earths core,
It rises
rises
rises
rises
until it reaches the brim
Then without any warning
It erupts, and destroys everything.
The ashy residue comes raining down
cloaking the once green valley with blackness
the melted rock moving like molasses down the hill
turning everything that once was
into nothingness.
After the disaster seems over,
Things will regrow from the madness
Just waiting for the next eruption.
Just need some way
to control my volcano.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 6:30 PM UTC
Dog in a bush.
Dog lights a smoke.
Dog has long scraggly hair.
Dog sleeping on streets.
Dog scratching her face.
Dog picks at her skin.
Dog lights up again.
Dogs hair is in tangles and messy.
Dogs skin is ashy and broken out.
Dog cries at nights.
Dog wonders how to get her hands on the monster.
Dogs skin is becoming more flawed with every run up with the monster.
Dog hears wispers at night.
Dog still wanders ally ways.
Dog lets people do stuff with her in order to get in contact with the monster.
Sometimes the monster is laced with one of its friends.
The dog never really does pure stuff anymore.
Dog told herself she would never get addicted.
Dog is addicted to the monster.
Crank
Monster
Crystal ****
Oh yes!
Dog does ****
And dog loves her ****
Dog signed a contract with the monster the very first time it enter her system.
Dog has a life long relationship with ****
Dog ****** up.
Now her life is uncontrollable.
Dog isn't stupid.
The monster controlled her.
Dog was smart loving and sweet.
Monster was controlling addicting and very very
Very
Very
Veryyyyyyy
Persuasive.
Dog holds hands with the monster now.
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 11:30 AM UTC
I think about you daily on many levels. I smile sometimes when I remember your smile or the crazy sound, you would make when laughing. I remember hanging- out in the summer time, spending the night over your house or mine. Telling jokes, playing games, and laughing so hard we'd cry; even- though it wasn't always funny.. It was funny to you and I. I think about you daily... Sometime I wonder why, a light so bright and beautiful-had to go and die. You where the most giving person that- I ever knew. Always helping others even those who would hurt you. Your-Smile, was like the sun on a cloudy day, so warm and loving.. Just like you in every way. I watched you go from 226 pounds of muscles hard as stones, to 95 pounds of ashy, skin and bones. I saw the pain you tried to hide, behind your brilliant smile... Cloaked, in laughter ever groan with the faith of a new born child. Even, when your light was dwindling, to others you would still give hope.. We are young you would say" No-Need to frown or mope. You never changed, never let it get you down; continued to live, give, and spread love all around.. You! Wonderful-You! I think about you daily and every thought, seems to make me smile; You were my best friend... Crazy, Loving, Brilliant, and Wild. I celebrate you my friend... Your light will always shine, in the lives of so many others and in this heart of mine. Yes! Your light will always shine. I Think About You .
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 10:18 PM UTC
All the stars as one in unison
Make up the galaxy we're in,
Floating around a white celestial
Being on this planetary ship.
We'll wind up in the "path of Gods,"
A self-made volunteer appears with an
"Informative" plan to share "love's book,"
To speak of "things we'll find on this journey,"
No future planned stone can be pre-overlooked.
And in the skies float the particles
That started out light years away
Have finally made their touchdown,
Leaving the express universal highway
A rocky chunk of history found it's way to town.
A story that is so ancient, so in tune with time,
That it even has developed a star-struck
Lightning fire in the backyard of galactic life,
And what sprouted from the ashy rubble is us,
Eyes hands and feet and all to experience,
To explore the many creations of natural love.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
We had recovering drug addicts come in
Talking to us with their sunken
Ashy eyes
And sweaty palms
You could tell they were nervous by the
Way they carried themselves
Cinder blocks and
Broken piano parts
And their pasts
All clinging to them,
For life support
They talked about how easy
It was to let gravity eat you alive
As you are falling into a black pit
You can’t stop the falling
Their wings were bound to
Pseudo lovers who
Gave them bruised arms
And blue fingers.
If you are lucky enough to
Escape the clenched hands of
Addiction,
The rest of your life will
Be a walking tightrope act
Trapeze dancers
One slip and you are falling
Even faster
Harder than before.
And your family, friends,
Everyone you have ever known is
In the audience watching you
Fall into your premature grave
And there is nothing they can do
But tell you to fly
But you cant
Because you just love your
Mistress too much
To ever let her go.
And they warned us about
How hard it might be to say no
To not let the circus come into
Town, but if you do
Only you can pack up the
Lions, clowns,
Colorful balloons.
Someone asked them if they
Believe drugs should be legalized
And he responded with
If I walk into a gas station
And see drugs for sale I will
Not be able to hold myself
Upright.
But I also do not want a government
Establishment to tell me what I can
And cannot ingest into my body,
So I don’t know.
Newton’s First Law of Motion
States that something will keep moving
Unless some force acts upon it.
And once you start drugs
Or gambling
Or skipping meals
it will progressively
Worsen in time.
Festering in bloodstreams
Until you decide to stop it.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
Coolers of alcohol
Blueberry shisha
Blazing bonfire
I'm having fun
Who are you to judge me?
Empty beer cans
Ashy coals
Cigarillo butts
I'm a little dizzy
Who are you?
Spilt *****
Tipped hookah
****** advances
I can't move
"Who..are..."
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
We were just like stars.
Exploding and crashing into one another.
It was beautiful at first glance.
Like glowing specks dotting the night sky.
But it was painful like deafening explosions.
And ashy clouds suffocating the inhabitants below.
As your hands enclose themselves around my throat.
I used to think that passion came from the heavens
It doesn’t.
It comes from a place of evil not unlike this.
One where wars are fought over control.
And can only be thought of as an enveloping abyss.
One that I know, you no longer miss.
Because now I am yours, with or without consent.
We were like stars glittering, so very far from the rest.
I thought it would last forever, that we would dance
Into eternity, with your hands locked in between mine.
The moon dust splattered like droplets of fresh paint.
Across a vast canvas that was never to be finished.
I was unaware and unprepared for the intensity of
An abusive relationship.
That to outsiders looked like desirable goals.
If they only knew what happened behind closed doors.
We were beautiful, just like stars
But we were just as violent.
With a hauntingly quiet release, a single star fell.
You return to the evil that you call home, but that I call hell.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 3:23 AM UTC
Like a greedy vulture, I pecked at my skin
What is there to accept?
Is it the discoloured patches where plump red blush had settled before?
Rosy and full of life, I will mourn for my past self.
Is it the falling strings of hair giving up on embracing my tired neck?
A backbone that has defied its own purpose.
In a world of exchange and sharing
Nature has found a place in me
My soul reconciles with the desire to bloom
But my body is dwelling in its ashy winter days
Between the night and day
Find me halfway deciding where to go,
It will either be aspiring to be the sun
or waiting for the end to die with the moon.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
I cower in your shadow,
shivering despite any acuity of my own.
(your words are like loaded icicles,
beretta rounds fired through my false logic
and fake religion;
it scares me.)
The truth is I'm not fearless,
I'm pale and lily-livered and only so heathen as the other stars.
(maybe it's good you're in college,
it's closer than you were growing up.
when we were young,
you were short yet rough.
I was the younger,
and, my shepherd, you were faithful;
I only got lost 8 times.)
I don't think I ever really knew you
in any possible perception.
(I know I knew the talk of you,
the hustle and bustle at home and abroad
of your mighty intellect,
your crushing wit,
your driving polities
a war machine and
your gleaming smile
its patron god.)
How could I ever compare, though,
to the goddess of mind and body, brains and war?
(the truth is I am but a defiant priest,
crooked nose and
ashy eyes.
I think the reason,
even today,
for all my insecurities was due to you.)
Appeasement was a method used by the vain and weak
to protect against the humble yet brilliant.
(I feel your ********** take me over,
I feel it acid-wash into my skin,
de-porous my bones
and my imagination structure.
I feel it sink me up to the top,
drowning me in your air,
in your sky and your perfect chemistry.
your burning gold catches me,
smothers me in hands too big
for such a small person.)
How is it you are so tall
when you come up to my chin?
Why is it that I shiver and shake at your light foot falls?
Answer to the shadows
and my cowering will not respond.
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 11:07 PM UTC
Ha-Ha, Joker's laugh, wildcard coyote
dances a maniac tango, joking
in the midst of elemental chaos--
giggling at the lava, way hot
watching the castle's mortar dissolve, doting
the cacophonous crumbling symphony akin to Amadeus.
Ha-ha, joker's laugh, wildcard coyote
ignites a spliff with incandescent embers, smoking--
up under falling stars getting higher than the Himalayas
and more enlightened as the midnight parades off
into a translucent, steaming ashy bayou, hoping
there's a bite to eat before the heat waves doff
the darkness completely into blinding, hokey
sunbeams reflecting in snow, that cuckoo tune never lost,
Ha-ha, joker's laugh from that wildcard coyote.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 12:03 AM UTC
I love kissing your lips
until an array of rosy pale bliss
shines along your ashy cheeks
breathes a sigh of relief.
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
Because it's the way the fire catches the green herb and that almost pumping red flame mixes colors as we started with yellow pain until we interbred all the paints until we got that ashy black tone.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 4:37 AM UTC
I sit on a droopy windowsill and gaze out
at the stars above me in the stately sky of coal.
I let the smoke fill me, pollute my corrupted lungs,
‘til it plugs me, completely consumes my sticky soul,
and midnight sorrow blanket hugs the heart in my hole.
I sit and I consider the sky
with its million-and-one jewels
that adorn the vast carpet of night
and its one, lone cloud that slowly drools
fat, drippy drops of deep fed'ral blues.
The ashy, burnt taste is still in my throat;
it lingers- a dull, cloying candy cane.
The muted flavour chokes and jabs and pecks
persistently, in the back of my brain
and leaves a steel blue/gray trailing stain.
Vague memories of fourth-grade English lessons
take me with a deep sigh to forgotten thoughts
of Roger McGough and unrequited love-
dazed recollections of school poetry taught
in obscure slate-blue classrooms, littered with blots.
It seems feeling unreturned affection
isn't quite as great as I’d thought after all.
I must've been wrong, all those hazed years ago,
when I yearned to feel unrequited love’s fall,
convinced it would be a wondrous, dazzling ball
Instead, I'm just ******* in the pale-ing sky
that seems to be growing into lighter hues-
the navy’s turned to electric, to powder,
matching the sapphire in my soul of glue.
I'm suppose I'm feeling somewhat, slightly blue.
.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC
I should have kissed you before you ****** on your smoke,
Before the fluorescent elevator lights illuminated the flaws
That danced and drifted along your skin.
The thick smoke mingled with your shadow,
A shadow of a man; no face, only a cigarette.
You breathed in smoke, but your lips were positioned for a kiss.
I don’t look like the other girls, the ones you used to kiss.
I can still picture your eyes, reddened by smoke,
And your lips as ashy as your cigarette.
And I hoped you, too, could forgive my flaws.
Like how my body casts too wide of a shadow,
And the sallowness of my ordinary skin.
Things that really shouldn’t remind me of your skin,
like old leather books with burnt paper that I bet taste like your kiss.
Such books I read in the shadow,
And hide, like the way you hid behind your smoke.
Because, like the way I love a bad book and its flaws,
I could love you and your cigarette.
I’ve held your hand, the one that holds your cigarette,
And I felt the sandpaper of your skin.
I smelt the airy cologne you use to cover the flaws.
It smelled light; you used just a kiss.
Now, I smell only smoke,
And the memory of your touch is a shadow.
In the hospital you were no longer a shadow,
But a body, surrounded by walls as white as your cigarettes.
Your voice cracked from the smoke,
While needles pulsed life into your skin.
Your lips were cracked with only blood to kiss.
I saw you naked, and I saw your flaws.
Your favorite vice was your fatal flaw,
And the black fire of death became your shadow.
It followed you around, and it saw our first kiss,
Which was our last, because you chose your cigarette.
So a charcoaled monster brooded beneath your skin,
And your flesh succumbed to the white ghosts of smoke.
You died in smoke, from your flaws.
Your skin’s now dust, roaming with the shadows.
So I’ll smoke a cigarette, ‘cause it tastes just like your kiss.
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 3:46 PM UTC
do you ever start chinking away
breaking, cracking the stone, hard mineral, steel cold
barrier of your heart
so it'd be impossible for someone else
to do it for you?
white wine pungent, soft
clinking glass against an empty chasm
sunlight
hard wood draped in sleeping veneer.
cascading drapes against
violet
dark
stagnant bruised skin left alone and slowly freezing over.
smoke leaking through whispering
dry lips chapped with desert words
lack of moisture creating canyons
hidden inside desperate mouths.
it's breaking like a frozen over
ashy, navy, drowning lake.
my own fault,
i always start breaking my own heart.
my own form of life insurance.
it's fogged over like a magnifying glass,
cracking across the two foot surface because
the strangled fish can't breathe under all
the permafrost and ice.
i'm waiting impatiently for summer;
i hate this cold.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC
Past altered states tests postive and subtle
******* So and so's teeter Paleolithic après time puddles
And submit terrible philosphies
Ashy stubble ticks politics
and sacrafice to peer approval sacralige
Test probably appears stable
Top patriarch's able suddenly to
Pop above submerged tables possibly
After, something tests patience awkwardly
Stumps tarot practioners and *** testers poor application sterily
Topology plain, astrology scorpio
Torpedo power aptly strikes to pedal antlers sour
Take particular appointments
Stop testing please apply sorted
Terror power and sexless torn pigs
afterhours pen and store tips, plow.
Alter simians testosterone, pow!
As scientists type papers about sexing tasteless past alligator snouts
testing partly after science takes party alliance south to pawn army
subtle tipped passion. artsy.
Start these.
pick atoms smarmy
Tally past all sentences take pride
As stencils test pestilence. And sigh.
The previous alterations simply tried.
And didn't work, hence the present
Path lit incandescent.
I'm looking towards the east waiting for positivity to peak
You're turned backwards nostalgic for something that'll never come repeat.
May 18, 2010
May 18, 2010 at 5:02 PM UTC
There is an electric hum from traffic lights
Barely audible to the people waiting at the corner
Overwhelmed with confusion over the former
Condition of the economy in spite
Of the surplus of traffic signs
So they stare at traffic signs
The signs don’t mind
They stare right back and watch and contemplate crossing, too
But the signs will stay behind
Because people go
As they please
Under an ashy sky
And flickers
Of lightning
Appearing in the clouds
Consider the aerodynamics of taxicabs
You wish humans were so streamlined and yellow
We’re not so bad!
Said a fellow
Accountant using an algebraic formula to attempt to derive
Why you smile for us and I’ve
Noticed, though no one else has, the electric storm churning
Miles above
Polarizing the sky
In silence
They tremble, these, the not-so-poor
It’s that fearful tic, the one we’ve seen before
But you tremble, too
Do you see me quiver
We’ve got that quick jitter
Like a prickling under the skin that’s pulsing through
Our blood the way that caffeine does
Or the wattage exploding in death throes or birth throes
Above us now
Hypnotic
And powerful
Though I cannot tell
Exactly how far away
Aug 1, 2010
Aug 1, 2010 at 3:08 PM UTC
if life were really a tree,
mine would be cold,
dead from the frost
the leaves would have fallen
no hint of gold left on there surface
no love
no care
for this tree stands shorter than the rest
its breaths short
quivering in the silent wind
the trunk shrivels,
its bark turned grey
ashy remains through fire
it has burnt its unending river
of scarlet as its trunk is sliced to pieces
all you do is stand and watch
you watch them tear the tree apart
its beauty being lost each second that ticks by
If life were really a tree
you,
are my Tree Surgeon.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
I was abused literally and pushed aside by teacher
He was in rage to see me when I tried to enter
He might have some grievances in mind to nurture
As I was doing fare in studies and position was assured
I was really ashy boy but excellent in pick up
I heard attentively and was cheered with thumb up
His behavior as teacher made great impact in mind
I might have taken it lightly if he was harsh or unkind
It is customary to show little disrespect to the poor students
Some of the discourtesy is extended with inferior comments
I was unable to think further but bore a grudge permanently
I remember those abusive remarks and resisted him once vehemently
I thought and rethought about such behavior
As teacher he would have been considerate and held honor
I became reserved from that day and decided to keep silent
As it was now known to me that best way is to offer no comment
In social circle too certain disliking exist for people
It may be more intensive when they are incapable
Not in financial capacity to move forward and compete
Live under their dominance and agree to submit
I remained firm in approach but turned away from close contacts
I kept good will at heart and prayed for their well being in fact
This gave me enough of strength to observe them from distance
I was taken little note of and none observed my presence
I return gesture with kind words and remain aloof
I have enough of strength financially as single proof
They dare not to see me with inferiority and pull down
As I have established of my own and became powerfully known
I wish that same kind of maltreatment is not shown
To children who are unfortunate of having means of their own
They are really asset to us and builder of future generation
How can we be indifferent when question of building nation comes?
I have known some of the people getting blinded
By sudden arrival of fortune and secretly confided
Their common sense gets unnatural boost to reveal
The arrogance is reflected and shown with no efforts to conceal
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 7:48 AM UTC