"bickers" poems
Stuck to the wall
with a pirate cringe, positivity illegal as sin
good vibes that almost hurt
like a wife-beater's undershirt
Tough to clean, hard to keep
even when the ground is getting steep
going up
They say it doesn't slam, gives you chance
it lays the land ahead
But I find the blue skies like to turn scarlet
and slip faithless from my wake
It's all me, all me
driving a stake through every chance I get
At regaining decorum--
which is hard to keep, tough to clean
after a massacre, a true disaster
The lawful bickers
of a girl curling in disgust because...
Because positivity feels counter-productive
Not to mention a little too...
Seductive.
These words are brought to you by a petty fit,
not a frolick, nor even
a moment of in-betweenness--
A damned-darling particulate fire
going up
I'm a lost soul, fingers cold
Stuck to the wall and let out a pirate cringe--
why don't you--
satisfy me with positivity legal as sin
Give me those good vibes, make them hurt
like a lover's wife's lacy undershirt
Nice and clean, hard to keep
especially when you're in. Too. Deep.
But you're only going up.
From. Here.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
[Dedicated to Horace Sheridan-Bickers]
A vision of flushed faces, shining limbs,
The madness of the music that entrances
All life in its delirium of dances!
The white world glitters in the void, and swims
Through the infinite seas of transcendental trances.
Yea! all the hoarded seed of all my fancies
Bursts in a shower of suns! The wine-cup brims
And bubbles over; I drink deep hymns
Of sorceries, of spells, of necromancies;
And all my spirit shudders; dew bedims
My sight -these girls and their alluring glances!
Their eyes that burn like dawn's lascivious lances
Walking all earth to love -to love! Life skims
The cream of joy. If God could see what man sees,
(Intoxicating Nellies, Mauds and Nances!)
I see Him leave the sapphrine expanses,
The choir serene and the celestial air
To swoon into their sacramental hair!
1.9k
As the white computer screen flickers
my tired and white mind bickers.
I know there exists a wonderful land
where things and events are not so bland.
Sometimes I wish I were a li'l planned
and play in my life, a merry, chill band.
Now that being said, which reminds my sorry dud head,
I'm all outta blood, and before I fall down with a thud
I need to go and hit my soft bed
seriously, I shouldn't see red
Moment of truth, where hast thou been?
Make time for me, I ain't no more Bean.
Let's cut to the chase, I could do with some sheen
Be fair and quick, just don't be mean.
There comes a time when you want to turn back the clock
Let's say I'm thine; my ship's at the dock!
I need some morphine; save me, my Doc,
Oh, am astray! pray, take me back to thy flock
Moment of truth, 'fore you I kneel
my layers are done like an open onion peel
this pain so intense, that's how I feel
this moment of truth, I'm ready to heal.
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 10:03 PM UTC
Silence ebbs
Down the street
By my side.
By my pride.
Shattered not
By the patter on
My umbrella,
Down Avenue Isabella.
And silence flows.
The crooked sidewalk
Grabs at my feet
And my pride snickers.
Silence breaks not
For your ambient
Bickers.
A door of wickers'
Make
On Avenue Isabella
Swings to regression
And silence flickers.
For whom
The bell tolls
My pride reprimands.
The dead need no
Gentle hands.
And on
Avenue Isabella
Porous souls are steeped
So deeply in
Their own pretension
To fill the lonely holes
That the bell tolls
To a harmonious roar
Of crowded silence.
Dead
Silence.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 12:50 PM UTC
It's a sad thing to see a mind wicker out.Have you ever had the distinct timing to sit and watch one lose their minds. Really weigh anchor and drift.? I have. On two occasions.
My, as an observer of the human condition,it is moth to flame-like.
Have you ever seen a helium balloon gently sailing to points unknown ?.
Hither and tither The word discombobulated seems worthy.Every gentle gust is it's master.
Or one party ornament broke loose from the park-party to snare and jitter as the string bickers with the needy high tension wire.
THEN THERE IS THE OTHER.
A MOTHER AND CHILD DISUNION. As she sits staring at the small gleaming casket well placed for all to see. Below the alter. I sit five rows back and I watch her falter.
God is watching they say and no sparrow shall fall they say.
But sure as night follows day I can hear her scream. A psychic ricochet soundless. WHY ?.
And later at the green acres.
manicured to perfection.
a six by hole dug with practiced precision. It waits. for the
slow procession.
the last flower tossed in. The thump of the first shovel of dirt.
And ashes to ashes. She walks away.
seems to saunter under ease of libation. Oh no.
A minds liberation.Ship leaving port.
Slowly navigates to deep and vast.
Gentle insanity at last. Maybe tearing later.
One piece missing from the puzzle forever.
Not an edge piece so as not to be noted easily.
Gone nonetheless.
Flip the switch to babies room. close the door.
Lights out.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 9:23 AM UTC
Cast iron clouds call their brushed allegiance to the age-clad masonry.
Whilst the mangled percussion of the infants' school bickers
with the soft tones of the older boys' band.
Still their sound is drowned by the whistling wind,
carrying parents' pleas that it's time to leave,
as the small groups crawl through the churchyard.
In a mossy corner, the window-man clatters,
with his brushes and buckets at the side of the oak shaded vicarage.
A scarf slides from an old man's neck
whilst he motionlessly salutes the monument;
his medals are dull in the lacklustre light.
But for all that's here, there's one thing not,
where I sit by this silent 'here lies' spot.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 6:02 PM UTC
You–I, we saw the world. The allegiance of mankind to rising of the sun. The treachery of actions to life. We shared spectacles of the remote lands atop mountains and boulders. Butterfly kisses made us weak, hushed promises and dreams made us vulnerable, and nape grabs always led your lips on mine.
You–I, we were one of a kind, self-aware, and spirited. You learned to thirst for open air and I also buried myself in your cosmos of black and white–of objectivity, ambitions, and pursuit of balance. We embraced one another’s quirks and differences.
You–I, were each other’s halves. Our souls met halfway as there were no words, definitely no words, left unsaid even through the darkest or littlest bickers we’ve had. Everything was real and translucent. We saw through each other, effortlessly. And everything wasn’t so bad.
We were us, together. With our dreams and aspirations. And as a team, we almost perfected compromise. Trying closely to weigh the good and bad banking on our values, beliefs, and priorities.
Until finally, we surrendered to our fragmented relationship and irreconcilable differences which made us grew better together and apart.
And maybe, that’s why we broke up.
―a.t.
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 12:50 PM UTC
A primary source of pain is the truth,
though the truth shall set you free.
An addiction beyond recognition,
there is something dark deep inside me.
Inanimate white evil,
has stolen he who is I.
My soul needs cleansing,
Am I close to where I die?
With knowledge comes wisdom,
and wisdom is beneficial.
But knowledge of this darkness,
The last thing I am is superficial.
Reality is no longer near,
As my sinuses fail to clear.
The darkness was formed by choice,
And to die is what I fear.
As the lights rapidly flicker,
While my mind starts to shut down.
Like a married couple who bickers,
There is no peace,
In my own blood I will drown.
The light calmly dims,
The rhythm of the monitor straightens,
And a continuous beeping noise trims,
The sound of silence in the room.
In the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost,
Whoever snorted the fastest got the most.
But was it an escape from reality?
Or reality escaping from me,
I am now forever gone,
But the darkness will linger over my family.
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
In the house of her noble
She sat on her thrown and cried,
Smashed the crown that bares her name,
Because she then realized how little she had to live for,
And how little she wanted to live for her name.
The death of people seems empty as an urn.
No pride can come of destruction, no honor is bestowed after pillage and fear.
There came that day for this lady,
When she squandered her family name.
For she now understood the terror that comes with her royal syllables.
The mother denies the daughter,
"Someday you will be a lady, and a lady naught cry."
The father spits and swears,
**** the daughter that ****** on the line of ancients."
They giggle and smirk, the sisters,
"Father loves us best. Fathers hates the child who dares disrespect his title."
The maid bickers still,
"If I were to disrespect, I'd be out on the street."
But they'll never understand,
The **** ignorants,
How a "meaningless" **** means more than imaginable.
And each helpless child left to rot on the street begs for forgiveness of the crime never in existence.
They can't comprehend how this tears a heart in two.
They must not have one to begin with.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
I may as well not exist
I am no longer capable to resist
I am just a dog, being scolded by all
And while everyone bickers, I take the fall
I am now trapped, I am so sorrowful to admit
But I've tried. **I'm still thinking, **** it!**
But don't get your hopes up, don't wait for me
Because if I can't come up with anything then again you'll be crying
It's my fault. It always is.
This is the new chapter, and the nightmare now begins
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
I believe
she will do well
so far away
I will miss
her whines and smiles
bickers and snickers
I told her
morning and night
she can call me, anytime
I cried
for my baby sister
but not too long
so far away
she goes so far
I love her, nevertheless
Sep 25, 2020
Sep 25, 2020 at 9:42 AM UTC
He comes into the kitchen cold as night
and we fight because love bickers
The news on the tv flickers red
and we hate because we think we have to
She falls in the direction of the rose
and she breaks because lust is an ending
The clock sticks to the ticking of a hand
and I wait because nothing is lovely
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
Long after a few years, and a little more encounters,
A little more fun, and random whereabouts
A little more bickers, and random conversations
That I found this path to someone like you
After a long while,
I wouldn’t have known how insanity
Would bring me to a different dimension
Of our little, peculiar situation
And how I’d find myself
Being succumbed to happiness
That I never thought I’d ever
Bring myself into
I am happy with you,
And though I’m still unfamiliar
With happiness in somebody new
I thought I’d try to let my inhibitions go
So I hope you won’t leave, just yet
I want to be with you,
And let myself see how things could turn out to be
If I tell you now, that I love you
Sep 21, 2020
Sep 21, 2020 at 5:54 PM UTC
a signed contract with a stroke of my signature
and a *** of money gone from my bank account
gave me a cheap rent in a city for a year
city full of people whom choose to stare at their phone
where i arrived in a house full of lonely people
each in their individual room with boring fumbles
so different and similar in every aspect of human being
made me wonder if i would like them at all
it's hard to concentrate on which voices to listen to
when they all talk loud as Punch and Judy
they continue to talk and talk, taking my ears
soon i may need some hearing aid i swear
they; complain, tell stories, share experience,
make some rude jokes and bickers here and there
fights and dramas are everyday nonchalant drinks
served either with hot or cold dishes
but in the end i would like to think
we are all a individual puzzle pieces
where we puzzle and wonder over how we can fit in
and somehow manage to get accepted anyhow
making a complete picture of
a house full of not-so-lonely people
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 7:18 PM UTC
Babbling brook bickers,
The silent lake is asleep,
Judge depth not by voice.
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 10:26 AM UTC