"bares" poems
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 1:50 PM UTC
The road behind bares us a backdrop, too many nights find us fractured in our thoughts and the dreamers we once were are far from the two people who stand today.
We're broken, mere splinters of our shipwreck past, driftwood on a shore that drowns every time the ocean breathes.
The path is littered with slaughtered dreams that didn't bleed.
As time and tide wait for no man shall we find it a tragic scene?
simply erased with the sunsets demise?
No one gets away without a scar and mine speak a road map to chaos
and a found hello to you.
Mine own scars are fingertips
gouged into the sand and faded
but salted by tears of the ocean, inerasable by the tide.
A soul washed up upon the shore, a road map etched delicately into fine bones.
You can trace where I'd been before. All roads lead to your hello.
In broken lines and have uttered phrases and one too many empty night.
Backdrop of chaos does paint in the darkest colors you could ever imagine .
How does it gets so flawed by our own creations and vices my dear?
Does it still ring ever so true?
The bell rings true whispering distant voices
Empty nights are just bottles lined up as dead soldiers
We contemplated our own truths and fell victim to our own vices
The backdrop is black, no colour beneath skin.
Honestly? Where does our downfall begin?
Two ships underneath the nightscape past the spark once understood the flame and nothing more .
In empty alleys, like cats to prowl, we find our moments, and then bury our thoughts to lay for no others to see.
half written papers and half heard conversation the keys of the piano haunt the silence as myself shadows that still remain.
Nothing is but a thought and those are like dead flowers laid to waste a reflection of far better times
The night crawls to meet the day as it has so many times before.
The thought of the minds bottle lay empty upon the table.
A fond farewell is but a sugar coated goodbye.
And I seldom have minced my words to mask their sting.
The page forever bleeds.
Pages that lay scattered on a ***** floor
Bleeding ink into cracks
that will forever more
hide the spirit of our souls.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 7:23 AM UTC
We were teammates
We suited up
We showed up
We weren't stars
But we rolled in the dirt
With the best of them
Our blood ran red
Like the rest of them
Our sweat tasted salty
As the most athletic of them
Wounds and bruises
Ached like the most
Stalwart of them
We were Bulldogs!
We anted up our
Gifts and talents to
Forge a winning season
A flair for humor
Wry observation,
Encouragement, fortitude
And intelligence were as
Valuable as speed,
Agility and strength
We all pined for the
Affection of cheerleaders,
Bandmembers and the
Adoration of fans
We equally joined
In the chorus of
locker room banter
And honored the
Confidence of camaraderie
Such intimacy bares
We endured thankless
Adversity, while wending
through anonymous toil
As brothers
We grudgingly drank
From the vile cup of defeat
And passed the chalice
Of victory among us
To share the savory
Taste of triumph
As champions
The Duke of Wellington
Said “the battle of Waterloo
Was won on the fields of Eton”
I trust my teammates and
Not forgotten friends
Tasted sweet victories of
Happiness and success
As they coursed through
Their prodigious fields of life
And at games end
I hope their heart swelled
With pride to know they were
A beloved and Valiant Bulldog
David Irving Korsh #75
BCSL Champion 1973
Rutherford Bulldogs
Well done Valiant Bulldog
God bless and Godspeed
Music Selection:
Bruce Springsteen
Thunder Road
5/5/18
Puyallup
jbm
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 2:58 PM UTC
Yet another day of pain was put behind,
She lets out a sigh of relief as if the beast
That stalks her is duped for now, once more.
The last Metro train that night, slows down,stops.
To return to her regular prison she gets in hurriedly.
Emptiness bares it's fangs, that looked sweet in fact,
In comparison with the experiences of the day gone.
A suspicious bundle on the floor stirred at her touch,
A frail women almost frozen,living dead, eyes sunken
in sockets." How did you end up here?" she quarries.
"I fainted, didn't eat anything, for the past few days"
"Mother, you need to drink something hot quick.
Come with me I'll take care" her eyes get moist.
Then she smiles thinking how fortunate she is.
"My share of sweet misery is here to teach me
practice humility, even in an empty compartment"
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
Dear exams,
I'm sorry to say, but I've lost all interest in you. I don't see why I didn't
lose interest in you sooner to be completely honest. I use to love learning
new things and cramming useless information into my cranium, but I must
say that forcing myself to study to pass your standards is just not who I am.There's no need to throw a question I cannot answer in my face whenever you're upset. Nor do I have to explain myself to you for that matter. Has anyone told you you ask a lot of questions?
I must admit that I am not perfect, but neither are you. You are filled
with errors and flaws that I must say are simple mistakes. I will always
remember you, but I don't think my memory of you will be a fond one...
I am grateful for all the support you've given me especially with my
grades, but I will admit that understanding you was difficult. I remember
hopelessly thinking about you all night after seeing you. I felt terrible
because I literally had no idea how to go about answering your fifty
questions. Even though you gave me choices it was still a difficult decision
to make. I went home that night disappointed thinking that I had messed
up my only chance with you.
But now you're back, but I admit I am definitely not excited about it.
And I will see you again today, which like I said I am not excited about. I
guess that all we can ever be now is acquaintances. A student to exam
relationship that definitely bares no love what so ever. I cannot wait to be
done with you. As they say, there are a million exams in the library...
And they should all be thrown away.
P.S: The paper shredder was looking for you.
Sincerely,
The unhappy student
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
A necessary evil for our segregation,
It's the deadly examination monster.
It's rough-tough so it never spares us,
Alongside the weaknesses it bares us.
Prepare for them if you want it easy,
Your scores often determine the life.
Never you give-up all fearing failure,
For you can write your future bright.
Holding shining silver string of love,
You 'come more courageous in life...
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
She bares her soul
to no one —
a façade for each mood
that infests her thoughts
like the plague;
reticence stalks her
every now and then,
as she tries shying away
from her darkest
secrets ripe as cherries
hanging from the bough…
a charade of whims
planted mysteriously
on her sealed lips.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
star, sapphire of the water,
sapphire of love,
the moon, throws
off her jacket,
bares her flesh in the
autumn rain,
leaves melt to the
floor,
streams of gold
and amber
start to blur,
surreal landscape,
mooring rope of golden rain,
as you kiss me
i slope into
your corners,
unwind like the
night’s sapphire
dew,
mesmerized by
the dark waters of
your touch,
mesmerized by your love.
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 2:48 PM UTC
The Jaguar sits
A regal pose
Even though
All spots exposed
He remains
Throughout—composed
Royalty suits
These kingly throes
Eyes so hungry
Fueled with woes
Darkness caress
His thoughts of more
All small fingers
Jabbing point
Smiles and scream
Not fear—delight
This is not
A place of fright
No place to hide
In broad daylight
Freedom calls
But is not heard
The thought is
Lurking—absurd
Escape has not occurred
Even to the captive birds
The noble Jaguar
Does not pace
He looks upon the crowd
Disgrace—
All those faces
Glass cannot erase
If only he could break
Out of this prison space
His deep imagination
Swirls and swells with thought
If only his true freedom
Could perhaps be bought
The first thing he would do
Is capture one said face
And use it as only
Claws could change—erase
He looks on
With animalistic intentions
Licks his chops
And opens his jaws
The crowd gasps as one
As the noble beast bares his teeth
—And yawns
The jaguar too kingly to stoop
To animalistic pursuits
He knows that he cannot escape
The beast so long ago was tamed
Long ago he lost his pride
On three square meals a day
—Inside
Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 12:46 PM UTC
I own a good chin to lift
a look that threatens from a distance.
The shield I never thought I’d get in the mail is here,
name written on it and everything.
So I walk out, shield up,
and yet
I shiver if I only get a hint of
A scent,
reminding me of someone
who ****** me with no permission.
Sometimes, I forget the amount of my anger
But, if it bares meaning,
I understand it.
Not only mine, the anger of many women, who
woke up in someone’s bed, and
left there smelling of a body
they didn’t choose to smell of.
Don’t tell me I should’ve said “No.”
Because sometimes the mouth doesn’t listen to the body,
body doesn’t listen to the brain,
the brain is not aware that
six years later you’ll be sobbing with the realization that
you’re afraid of the man you trust most of all
because he produces testosterone.
Six years ago, it happened too fast.
I didn’t say “No.”
He didn’t give me time to do it.
As I was leaving, eyes clenched to my feet
I let him kiss me and say:
“I hope you don’t regret this night.”
That’s what makes me the angriest.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 3:24 AM UTC
A baby born but not a grudge he bares;
Whose blood so clean and pure like mountain spring,
Yet unblemished by scandals, love affairs,
And not a pinch of what sorrow could bring.
And deep in sleep too young to know of love
And lust, of crime was done because of shame.
Of shame of ****** moments that drove
To dump him cold naked without a name.
He knows not now of being called outcast.
But hate would come and callous jibes would tear
His heart as he grows and knew his past.
Their wage of sin for decades he'll bear.
What Devine assignment on him seeing,
Like blissful saint in quiet contemplating.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 7:02 AM UTC
The birth of our sun wrote megalithic,
two-word bursts of observable heat to life.
It pounded the density of a billion
squealing animals and thought itself
star—a pencil
being lifted by an oven-mitted hand
somehow deft, fortune-telling
witch.
sun—which will, in time,
bow out to a goodnight city
where every light is eaten
by dark-spelled window—no reflection
of flame,
no kiss of magnet—no
just cold death to
the bones—a molded meatball
dancing in a spiral once believed
to be beautiful.
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 11:20 AM UTC
.
Lear wanders in stormy open, bares warring elements,
The heavens blister, crackle, night is balmy shroud,
Wretched monarch babbles in sprinkles of wind cold,
Arguments lost by ones own pouring perturbations
And raining sky said 'nothing will come from nothing.'
Howl, howls into blackness treed in lightning splits,
His outcast soul, reels, fleshed, cut to smithereens,
Tang of salt burns on the bluffs and the sea rages,
So entire and ceremonious is Lear's fall meted out,
Air spoke, 'nothing from nothings ever yet was born.'
Sky proclaimed to man child King, here is a reckoning,
Each mad choice was self infliction, now wind flays
And sweet Cordelia lies in her innocent **** grave,
Sky, in thralls of thundering asks, 'what say thee now,
King of highborn follies, even purple heaths are rags,
Yet black and above you and night shades, whine,
Unworthy King, done in by compounded effects,
The might of maelstroms in low butterflies wings,
How now, bare trees, knifing reeds, skeletal flashes,
To rains of night are ever your lanyards my lord,'
Sad Lear so near oblivion fell mute, sky went on,
'Howl and cry mad King your reaper calls beyond,
The icy brisk heavens await to brusque you away,
Your slipshod kingdom was mere and fools' dream,
Howl, til howls abrupt abate, for nothing now comes.'
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC
Truth bares the deepest recesses of her concealed modesties.
Can you feel the resonating equilibrium of tantric sound as we connect across humanitarian divides?
Tears fill my eyes, as I bask in the presence of such elevated humility.
I am grateful for the wisdom of simplicity, as opposed to what may be deemed to be stupidity.
Let us join hands around this circle of cultic agreement.
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
Its beams pull at the heart strings, each a different noise.
No ray on a futile descent.
All with purpose and poise.
Each stream of light reinvents,
the palette of colors our earth bares.
Truly nothing compares.
Apr 4, 2022
Apr 4, 2022 at 12:20 AM UTC
It's an addiction
The feeling of ink to paper flowing from the mind to a needle delivering relief
It's an affliction
A disease that manifests itself as dialogue and description
It's an abomination
A beast that bares its teeth and sinks into the page
It's creation
That bleeds and breathes and loves and hates and learns
It's desolation
That manipulates and destroys enveloping the world in its darkness
It's imagination
That addicts, creates, and destroys nothing but the mind
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
Nightmares bring forth my minds deepest worries
They unleash unknown evil I want not
Dark demons, an evil creature scurries
A beasts breath is on me and it burns hot
As I feel myself sink into dreamland
Terrors in the night wake and walk about
Afraid evil will touch me with its hand
I feel fear well up and I start to shout
Weight of emptiness crushing me to tears
A shadow of death looks down so vivid
Lurid evil feeds on my minds worst fears
A sharp faced demon bares teeth so livid
As I slowly begin to awaken
I see relieved, my life isn't taken
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 9:28 AM UTC
I'm the macho!
no one dares!
share your indultos,
body bares.
enter the club,
all eyes on me!
I have a new tattoo,
do come and see.
do you have something,
then speak, yes you may.
try your luck,
watch what you say!
give me a bottle,
twenty five years solero.
come my darling,
oh **** sombreros!
I am the macho,
Senior Sancho!
human toro,
ultimate pistolero!
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 7:17 AM UTC
Man
Is the tree,
That bares no fruit
Nor flower,
Leaf
Or heart.
But has those so destructive roots
That rip
This world
Apart.
Elisabeth Pfeffer
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 10:00 PM UTC
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her ***** to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.—Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.
3.6k
For every person there is damage.
Damage caused.
Damage seen.
The damaged live and the damaged die.
The damaged save and the damaged hurt.
The damaged forgive and the damaged condemn.
For every damaged person there is a condemned.
Condemned, they are so the damaged can move past them!
"I condemn those on the street so I may walk by".
"I condemn those in their adultery so I might save them."
"I condemn those that hurt me and made me condemn."
"I condemn myself for ever condemning."
So what are we? Surrounded by the ******
For everyone who bares witness to those who affect them.
Who damage them.
And those who condemn themselves for damaging.
All are guilty.
And with that, chaos.
To fight the ocean of the condemned is as simple as condemning.
Only through condemning can we ever forgive.
Only through forgiving ourselves can we hurt again.
Only through forgiving ourselves can we save our soul.
Which one will you choose.
I'm still on the fence.
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 2:54 AM UTC
I drown
and glimpse Poseidon's kingdom
I fall
and I am lifted by the winds of Anemoi
My heart looks into
medusa eyes
And I run freely about the lair of Eris
I clutch the moon
in the wake of Hecate
as the war is waged against
Selene's solar bounty
Lethe guides my hand into ignorance
Ponos holds my head high
in the face of my deepest fear
Theia bares Eos to me
and I offer the reddest rose
for she is the light
that lets Helios reign
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 9:36 AM UTC
March comes like a punching bag
March will bring her smiles like plastic bags
Some tear some don’t
You never know when she will glare her teeth like razorblades and bleed the snow
from underneath these fingertips.
Leave my insulation soaked, me; feverish.
And the joke is, I saw this coming
shivering the melted ice out of me she
bares her grin like a warning sign,
and I was either too brave or dumb enough to step inside
like a welcome mat made out of ice
and a cartoon dog
A scared pitbull, and a woman in charge.
The joke is that haha
There is no joke, you walked in.,
and made one out of yourself.
Out of the frost on your eyelashes and grief on your fingernails.
haha get it,
sweat her out like the coldest fever, without dying of shock.
Get it now?
She brings back the taste of firewood and comfort of flames when you needed it the most
Punches like the best punchline
hard enough to make it hurt
not hard enough to make you forget
hahaha
Knocks the wind out of you.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
Mirror never speaks
Reflects the profound truth
Bares the soul for viewing
Feelings and emotions
Do not have a chance to hide
Mirrored and uncovered
Naked truth as opponent
Mirror never speaks
Lot more said in silence
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 12:01 AM UTC
nurtured in the arms of another's.
birthed in homes inside their minds,
and told to stay low
told we have wings -
not told to use them.
because they might fail us.
our dreams might fail us.
so our sight blocked, to only the
array of sunset.
we sleep through sunrise
- at least they do.
but see we,
we await, we wait until the
sun breaks way,
swallow the waves
eat another into oblivion.
whisked together as the sun turns to us
when she tires from her previous scene
she livens at us.
do not anticipate until she bares full.
do not hesitate until she kisses your iris to black.
fly out to her
and see if wings dissolve like we were told they would.
see if you are dreaming
discover if you are awake.
feel how close to death you are
taste it, but swallow your presence.
when she begins to melt you.
remember that they told you that burns will ****
who told you the sun will ****** our home, when her end comes.
fear not. fear is your friend.
the sun knows she can impale you so
deep with radiance.
but do not fear,
because last night was when you dreamt of the sun -
and now is when she killed you.
because you were too near.
to the dream.
to follow them will thrill.
and **** once you love them
but what won't ****
so visit the sun if you dream of her
let your dreams burn you.
end you
because at least you tasted them.
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 6:41 PM UTC