"asphyxia" poems
For my best friend, Naomi
like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you came to me
gently,
with the soothing voice
of a sweaty spring
thank you, old friend
for being able to be
dark enough to see
the hidden light
in me
i will not go into the times we shared
asphyxia and summer air
juxtaposed to form
an inseparable pair
who am I, old friend
when the ship´s horn blares
if you made me who I am
(if you made me scarce)
like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you left me
softly, without
any warning of
the lack of color
(there would be)
without your splendor
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 1:38 PM UTC
Breathe in slow
enough to hear
his voice - ichor
dripping from beneath
his lips sewn
with incessant thoughts
of the looming
shadows that he sees
at night, with heavy
gasps
drawn deep within
his lungs, he dreams
he's awake
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
Choking on a grape that wasn't mine,
I shouldn't have plucked it from the gardens vine.
Under the starry linen draped above,
I noticed a dragonfly nearby
sitting on a fountain watching me die.
Asphyxia was kicking in,
looking up it seemed the moon did grin.
I closed my eyes for the end to begin
and amongst the darkness inside of me
the dragonfly was buzzing free.
It left behind a silver trail,
swirling up and through the veil,
behind which I could finally inhale,
the infinite taste of wine.
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 11:45 PM UTC
Ah, now I remember.
It was in those rare moments when you say something different.
Words weave in and out of your lips
but your eyes have the freshly stitched smile
like that of a child
listening to their favorite bed-time story.
Satin slips from your mouth,
wrapping around the beating murmurs
below my necklace
triangle yantra of Kali,
under a lacy leopard bra,
beneath the tattooed deviant octopus,
and soothes the palpitations
to a comfortable pause.
We don't always need air to breathe.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
You found me
stuck staring
at rearview mirror reflections
of wintry, dusk intersections
of everything leaving me
all at once.
A forced exhale
of asphyxia caged
in collapsing lungs;
my mouth,
a fountain spring,
that coughed out
pools of blood.
I wish I saw myself
the way you saw me;
not a red traffic light
wounding speeding cars
on winding streets,
but an antique heirloom
priceless enough
you'd only wish
you could keep
in a heart-shaped box
you saw in dreams.
But, I'd cut my tongue,
paint my lips cherry shades
to blend with cells that'd stain
handkerchiefs you'd offer.
Make you believe
this isn't going to foster
because you are indecision,
unfinished watercolor landscapes
of summer forest fire skies,
a sun-kissed Pacific wanderer.
And I am true crime
untouched evidence of break-ins,
remains of faulty locks and lights.
I am mosaics misaligned;
static, seabed cracks
from forgotten fault lines.
Gaping fissures of sand,
and salt that won't let me stitch
frayed skin-deep fibres
barely holding me in.
Oceans would have to empty themselves
into whirring cyclones and high tides
for our selfish sense of touch to collide.
Ice caps would have to sink
deep enough to even bruise my skin.
And I wouldn't want to watch
more Shakespeare end
before it begins.
*See, I am the one
with sharp edges,
but why
did you have to be the one
to clip my wings?*
There is only an abyss
without a trampoline,
a safety net,
a bed of waterlilies,
I could fall in.
And I am so tired
of paradoxes
and ironies;
of always being wanted
by someone who doesn't even
want to be kept,
of always being mended
and then left
with more dislocations,
and fractures,
one after another
each taking longer to fix.
Now, in shapeless parcels,
without return addresses
sent out into the void
these words will echo
of love
I never intended to borrow,
and shadows
of false hope
you never thought yourself
capable of
giving away.
Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 6:02 AM UTC
This diet of dirt erodes my teeth.
Perhaps I'm rotting for shock value
-- flashes of cameras --
a bloodborne shortcut to heaven.
I succumb to death a patriot:
red and white and asphyxia blue.
(We can't all drown like maidens.)
You smile and loosen your grip on my throat
to gnaw at and pick the flesh clean off my bones.
Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 7:34 PM UTC
The face of the precipice is black with lovers;
The sun above them is a bag of nails; the spring's
First rivers hide among their hair.
Goliath plunges his hand into the poisoned well
And bows his head and feels my feet walk through his brain.
The children chasing butterflies turn around and see him there
With his hand in the well and my body growing from his head,
And are afraid. They drop their nets and walk into the wall like smoke.
The smooth plain with its mirrors listens to the cliff
Like a basilisk eating flowers.
And the children, lost in the shadows of the catacombs,
Call to the mirrors for help:
'Strong-bow of salt, cutlass of memory,
Write on my map the name of every river.'
A flock of banners fight their way through the telescoped forest
And fly away like birds towards the sound of roasting meat.
Sand falls into the boiling rivers through the telescopes' mouths
And forms clear drops of acid with petals of whirling flame.
Heraldic animals wade through the asphyxia of planets,
Butterflies burst from their skins and grow long tongues like plants,
The plants play games with a suit of mail like a cloud.
Mirrors write Goliath's name upon my forehead,
While the children are killed in the smoke of the catacombs
And lovers float down from the cliffs like rain.
Apr 28, 2010
Apr 28, 2010 at 12:34 PM UTC
Her fingers curl.
Gently, at first.
A child laughs.
And the wind chimes,
the bird’s coo–
they laugh with her, too.
Her fingers curl.
Tighter.
The asphyxia is new.
The sacks of bones,
–so bold, weren’t we?–
white heads, the wrinkles,
the ill memories–
Her fingers curl.
And she keeps laughing,
without us, too.
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 4:41 PM UTC
I breathe you in.
I breathe you out, I breathe you in again.
You are my oxygen.
Without you is my end.
I breathe you out, I breathe you in.
I can't help it, I gotta breathe you in again.
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 10:01 AM UTC
There's blood between us
Choking our throats;
A noose brightens
before eclipsing crosses
Made from ashes
Asphyxiating
The water rushes
Down my lungs
And I'm drowning
I call out your name
But you won't answer
I stretch out my hand
But you're not there
I've seen the best and it's over
I'm soil and dirt you harvest
what's left
I know what's there
The tide came in.
And washed away.
Our names.
In the sand.
The moon howled.
In pain.
Like sulfur.
Like desire.
It's over.
I can drown in you
Take my last gasp from you
(*it's like the forever
we never knew*)
I can drown in your kiss
My final breath thru your kiss
(*it's like the forever
we'll miss*)
We shine
Like diamonds
Drowning in water
Crystal eyed transcendence
Asphyxiating on your blood
Jun 9, 2012
Jun 9, 2012 at 3:46 PM UTC
These are the days
When the ichor in my veins
Transmutes from ethereal to acrid
When the fire in my stride
Burns too hot for human skin
When the tangle of all I am
Becomes unbearable asphyxia
But I find
I cannot
Cast myself away
Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 8:31 PM UTC
Inhale the stress
like those cigarettes
you love to smoke.
And hold the anxiety
in your lungs
like the chemicals
that turned them
to pitch black.
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 2:02 AM UTC
The shrill thrill **** of young blood ills makes the hill
become a valley of death writhing desperately in hands
too often dragging queens through the mud
all along the botched towers leaning and glaring
without caring
Instead intent-on
restricting oxygen with crass observation
only ever offering tasteless insincere apologies as afterthought
Alone and easily overpowered
clouded crowd-sourced asphyxia overtakes
just enough breath left
for recorded tied down violations
with faint traces of slut-shaming-victim-blaming
cat calls free-for-alls
and “don’t it always seem to go
that you don’t know what you’ve
got” ‘til it’s slammed shut stolen
and swollen gutted-paved-depraved
by gentrifires stoking those immolate night advances
and god oh god is it really too much to ask
to feel safe on my own sidewalk?
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC
My entire life has felt like suffocating. The idea of standing in front of people has only caused mental breakdowns and tears.
Suffocating- Something I've began to find comforting. When asphyxia sinks in, closing myself off, and escaping is the only thing that makes it okay.
Screaming, kicking and self inflicted bruises. I want to be numb, but drugs is not an option, and the idea of drowning my sorrows in alcohol terrifies me.
It is times like these when I need someone most. When there is something I can't control, words become harder to find. When everyone seems to take a little longer to talk to me, mentally I begin to drown.
A daily battle found within the screaming confines of my mind.; A pressing weight pounding against my lungs, causing my massive inability to breath.
I am about to explode, Like a ticking time bomb of discomfort and suppressed adrenaline.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
My thoughts stopped visiting my brain.
My imagination got lost somewhere in the infinity of my aloneness but I don't feel loneliness.
I'm a walking comatose and I feel so futile, so deterrent of myself.
But I guess these feelings are inevitable.
Maybe I'm too afraid to sit in a sail boat without a paddle and drift into the sea.
Maybe the circumspec of my cowardliness, has dived so deep into the depths of mind.
I don't feel alive, I don't feel alone,
I don't feel numb anymore.
I used to believe that pain was the God of life.
For if pain didn't exist, I wouldn't know what being alive meant.
Not even if it shrunk into a tiny razor blade and cut an entrance on scars or scabs on my body.
To rediscover past wounds and lessons learned.
Just to make me feel humility or little more human.
Maybe I'm just caught in between that moment before unconsciousness strikes.
When the lack of oxygen slowly expires.
As you gasp for air and grasp for something to breath life back into your soul again.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 3:27 AM UTC
Mentally asphyxiate
You don't need the lack of air to suffocate
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
*You're that breath of fresh air
That i can't seem to take.*
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 9:38 PM UTC
You've got my eyes.
Captured my heart.
As if a love deity chose you for me.
You always lie.
But I cover it up.
You always cry.
But I cover it up.
Your lips drip red with all the things you spew.
You've got my eyes.
Captured my heart.
As if all the stars in the sky pointed to you.
You always hide.
But I cover it up.
You're always blind.
But I cover it up.
Lungs filled to the brim with lies.
You've got my eyes.
Captured my heart.
My entire being is owned by you.
You always lie.
But I cover it up.
You always cry.
But I cover it up.
Choking on your lies, burning from the inside.
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 3:27 AM UTC
the flies sleep
the POPes fall
stares and incense
water as a Firefly
climbing
dreams
and bites
lying down women
the scared child
*** chairs
honeyed ****
the Coco box
and sustained meals
used oil
molden hands
the erectile *****
with its cursed spring
the blind of the underground
tremble like leaves
mosquitoes
the endless war
for conformity reasons of
intense sentimentality
the juices from my waste
and waste
together as butter eyes
look for the lock
skins and commas
they come up and sit
where are the atoms?
the formulas
that is not a complaint or a
wet towel waiting
the laughter of ***
and happy *******
nails that do not
spend liars aloud
death does not rest
newspapers
newspapers
good to make a fire
is not necessary
to name them
delete all written in the
last three lines
and the simple duplicity of the intelligent
and their hopes of importance
When this ends or Announces
like fans in the Sun
the amendment continues
inexorable asphyxia
burn, rises as one
exquisite betrayal of the senses
the look and the perception
unfold within the bed
filled with needles in terrible ways
as vanity that passes
near avenues and springs
It does not defile
or attack the beasts
resting like a mountain
sacred mirrors
and the ghosts that spit
two stones
just to shake your lungs
and they are regarded as a
wall of the snot
devouring
air and Sun and rain and dreams
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
1
I’m not one to tell
But some people really deserve it
I’m not one to be so fell
But some people really need it
2
Sometimes I think I could ****
Sometimes I think I am wrong
But now I know I was right
My just bloodlust is useless to fight
3
I paint your face white
I paint over the neon mess
I tackle you to the ground
Ram your head on the seething white floor
I want to crack your skull
I want to hear it snap under the weight of my hands
Alas I am weak
But not weak enough to **** you quickly
4
My knees are digging into your chest
My hands are around your grizzly neck
Asphyxia is a good solution to some problems
Choke, you old *******
I won’t let you go so fast
5
I drag you by your hair into the lift outside my unit
It’s really dark
It’s way past midnight and everything is quiet
Everything is quiet when you’ve lived so noisily
6
The red lights from the buttons glow slowly and gently and I press the first floor gingerly
The automated voice says “first floor” in that funny little way it always does
7
The lift descends, with me and you
It is like a passage to hell
For the both of us
We’re not dead yet
But we are corpses
Both of us
8
The stars are so pretty tonight
You can rarely see them so clear
But tonight every corner of time is enveloped in a
Gluttonous cocoon of darkness
9
I haul you out to the shady alley where
Nobody sleeps but nobody listens
And I wait
For the dogs to smell you
The dogs are tearing your flesh apart
Like bubblegum
I want to feed you to them
See their canine fangs sink into you
But even the most vicious hounds
Will never use you as meat
For fear of the evil laced in you
You’re not dead yet
I told you I wouldn’t let you go just like that
You can scream all you want, old man
Nobody sleeps but nobody listens
A timely taste of your own medicine
10
You can’t spell illegal without legal
11
In your last moments I **** your mouth with a knife
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 4:33 AM UTC
Submerged in water
Gasping for air
Blackness surrounds me
My lungs feel tight
My eyes fail me
As do my limbs
Struggling to find
A way up
Or out
But I can't find
The right direction
The surface
Any means of escape
Thrashing
Choking
Suffering
And the only way
To save myself
Is to let go
And hope that the release
Leads me to the surface
And not to the depths
Below
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 10:25 AM UTC
a love asphyxia
some thinking fabric in the universe . She's there. when you expect to be expected
In, or just dreaming
An emerald valve for the hurried, bloodied, sullied
happening
oh, to all of us - please let us be happy
© Copyright David Bosworth July 2013
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 3:02 PM UTC
Why do sad things attract you?
Why do you look for a problem to fix?
Is there a healer inside of you?
Or is it your asphyxia you want to fix?
The hungry child, the hurt horse,
All you're looking for, is a cause
Something to channel this hurt,
Something you are allowed to cure,
Something that makes you smile,
Something that gives you a day to live for
You're not doing anything wrong,
In fact you're righting a whole lot,
But what keeps your heart fighting,
Maybe you've ignored a blood clot
Give some love to yourself,
It's hard most days I know,
Your heart so full of affection,
Sometimes with nowhere to go,
But pull out that guitar,
Practice your chords and scales,
Figure out the colours another time,
Watch the mixed shades, inhale
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
The music child tasting the sound
Tucking myself into this moment
As Jupiter lies under my bed
A slender moon brushes my cheek
Pine cone fingers made of blood root sap
Lace fireflies collect their thoughts in the silver maple trees
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC