"blander" poems
I am tired of writing love songs about you
Because they do not work
Because I cannot bring myself to summarise the hurt
When it's greater than just words
I traced your lips with my fingertips
As you held my neck and drowned me
I tried to keep the bubbles in my hands
For the day you'd come drown me again
Funny how a heart so small
Could wreck such treacherous trouble
Will you hold me closer?
When you say 'sing me a song'
And I think it's because you love it
But you were right all along
You were in love with my need
A need for something more than greed
And I could not play along
So the songs sounded the same
Because all we had was a blank page
Blander than a desert tongue
Will you hold me closer?
And still I begged
Because it is all I know to do
I crashed walls through
Just to get to you
A fool a fool a fool
I played for you
I turned tipsy as the world went spinning round and round in psychedelic swabs
Liquor after liquor
Anesthesia
Only brings out pain
I gave in
Because it is all I know to do
In a dark place full of wastrels waiting for love
Will you hold me closer?
I came here
Ready to regret
A little revelry to rock the bland away
Yet how far could I run with your clutches round my neck?
I tore up the pieces of paper
That I wasted all on you
Happier times
Haughtier lies
I tore up all the words I gave to you
No more poetry for the first time your lips touched mine
Or how you playfully pushed me by the seaside
The days before you showed your wicked side
No more circles with endless lines
Here I'm staring at the blank page right before my eyes
Ready to rewrite
What was life like
Before you?
Your eyes meet mine amd smile
One last time
Will you hold me closer?
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 6:30 AM UTC
“I miss you” is an understatement
Because when I say “I miss you” what I’m really saying is that
Every day I go without your laughter
Without your smile
Without your voice
Without your intoxicating presence
Is a day wasted
It’s a day the sun is a bit duller
Food a bit blander
And oxygen less satisfying
Suffice it to say
“I miss you” is an understatement
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
Yes, in Oz they've called an election,
PR on media heading in our direction,
Bland and blander for our selection,
Do they sell their souls for superannuation?
Politicians are deemed to be public servants,
By the plebs, for the plebs, now observant,
For the benefit of the plebs, in Australia,'
Is being forced to vote a failure?
No such thing as a Western Liberal Democracy,
Prepare for BS for you and me,
Largely unfundable policies,
Today is day one of Garbology!
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
It’s often of a christmas time
When words will dance to relish rhyme
To tell the story of demander
Sharp of dress – the proper gander
His monocle peers down at you
An eye for flight and finesse too
He flutters out about your heart
You want him but he’s so apart
Put your treasures at his Tod’s
His feathers flutter and he nods
But you’re so crass, so undefined
Your love for him is leagues behind
While you chase with mollycoddles
He’s dancing with the supermodels
A candle dinner, just for two
He’s sharing with Chanel, not you
Leave him be, for the common we
Are odious to one like he
The proper gander often finds
He’s chased for love by lesser minds
He once brushed his Boglioli
And told me that for Christmas Cindy
Would meet him neath the mistletoe
I should not call him, hard I know
So let this poem serve as warning
Do not follow your heart’s calling
When you see the great demander
Sharp of dress – the proper gander
And now that you are out the way
I’ll wait until that special day
For within the wrapping and the ribbon
I’m hiding ‘till I’m duly given
The postie will deliver me
To his doorstep and we’ll see
I’ll burst forth from the wrapping paper
For Christmas we will be together
He’ll choose me over other women
He’ll show a side he still has hidden
The other girls may chase romance
But faced with me they have no chance
For my ship has one commander
My love’s the world, he’s Alexander
Without him life would be much blander
How I want the proper gander.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
If I had a choice, to communicate,
I'd choose to write in prose,
For in speech, I am just a blander rose.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 8:08 AM UTC
dine summende ord flyver rundt om hovedet på mig
blander sig med støjen fra min overophedet computer
en unødvendig larm i rummet
jeg fanger dig som myggen på væggen
jeg masser dig som myggen i min hånd
du er en blodsugende myg på jagt
efter opmærksomhed
men det er også det eneste du får
for ingen har kærlighed til myg som dig
de finder dig
de slår dig ihjel
som myggen i min hånd
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:07 PM UTC
The first time
I lost my mind,
The world seemed a destitute place.
The first time
I took it by force.
Left to fend with fiends
Furrowing through time,
Clawing at the day,
Dragging myself against the pull.
Life,
The introduction to
Something dark and true.
The second time!
I could stand no more
Of what I found before
Did not mean to come back,
Sometimes I think I didn’t,
Mulling in a mood grey and grave
The blue sky,
Once bubbly
Now looks blander
Circle of red.
Head of lead.
Lying in my bed.
The third
barely touched
Just scraped at chalk.
After that, I went away…
Opted out.
Nothing mattered.
There I sat in limbo.
Soured.
Dissasociated
Like an old car,
I sputtered,
Bore sitting and rusting.
Consumed.
Floating
Dead-eyed.
And how I laugh,
To say
That I am less
How I laugh-
To say that I am dying
To think that I am sloth
Sloth?
I am greed.
I am pride.
I am failure,
I am afraid-
Of everything.
I died some time ago,
Left company
Alone
So now I am back in the game.
And enigmatic.
Do I scare you?
Because I should.
I am terrifying
And cant be intimidated
I do not fear death,
I do not fear reprobation
But honestly?
I scare my self
And I am afraid of you too,
Fear is my super power.
Depression is my identity,
Something personal to me,
So-
So Welcome death,
Welcome fear!
Welcome Might.
You can’t comprehend me,
What it is to be free,
You have never died
Never writhed,
In fire,
You circuit.
I shan’t come out tonight,
Or any other
Night
But stand afront,
With twisted mind, bald and blunt
And I shall eat you…
That look-
Look down
Disgust
Divert your eyes,
But stand in my way,
And I shall eat you
Your eyes-
Coal,
Fresh grass
Red light
Yellow filter
Green eyes
Pain defies
Lies
Anguish flies
Panic stricken,
Anxiety driven
Rapture.
Quick- Look down now,
Holding back the wrath of Jessu,
This mouse will ******* eat you!
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 3:58 PM UTC
Jeg skriver portrætter med ord
og maler deres ansigter lidt på skrå,
for det er jo sådan de ser ud.
Skæve smil, skæve meninger, skæve hjerter.
Jeg fravælger mig farver og blander en sort, så jeg kan iscenesætte mine følelser lidt
EKSTRA!
Jeg kaster bandeord ud i et tomrum, direkte ind i djævlens svælg, og åbner mit gab omkring hornet.
Kvæles fornøjeligt, med en kvalmende følelse som danner en fornemmelse af et uægte samvær mellem to parterede hjerter.
Jeg iscenesætter mine følelser lidt
EKSTRA!
Smelter sammen med Nikotindræbende dampe, som lufter mine lunger med et frisk **** af gensidig afsky og selv-væmmelse.
Jeg absorbere det kemikaliedannede hvide projektil, som jeg skyder ned i en suppedas af mavefornemmelser.
Jeg iscenesætter mine følelser lidt
EKSTRA!
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 4:43 PM UTC
En hul fornemmelse i kupeen
Hud reflekteres og blander sig med skoven gennem glasset
Forstæderne
Livløst og sort beklædt sidder hvide mennesker
Når det krymper i mig
Kommer modløshedens rutiner
Men toget kører ikke af sporet
Hamrende mod kulden
De lave rytmer hypnotiserer
Deprimerer
Jeg formørkes men smiler
For folk de kigger
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 7:35 AM UTC
*the fool in love, or the fool
who pines for it?*
have I not sat at the King's table,
for decades of eons, eons of millennia,
the mealy taste of the poverty of loneliness,
made the sweetbitter
and the meaningless
blander still
full surrendering to slow starvation of my
humanity
denied the rise and set,
the watch and the calendar,
the sundial inoperable,
masters of none,
there are distinguishing marks
upon this victim,
who no longer recalls refusing
love
just another dusty bust
of a man tough as
plaster
the mask of
going it alone
so well adhering
no longer masked
but his first skin
unlike him,
love poems
waterfall self-destructing,
suicide by self-erosion
and thereby
an everlasting guarantee
the answer be
he
who pines
and dies a little bit
daily
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 12:38 PM UTC
To sleep
or not to sleep,
that is the quandary.
A wink or two stolen
is sweetest when
one's blander isn't swollen.
Dec 29, 2010
Dec 29, 2010 at 8:06 PM UTC
Just try to understand the contact of eyes
No words are needed to express that how much I love
In your absence do you feel much my heart cries
Every second without you seems like years
But heart can't tolerate such tears
Love teaches new standards
Without it every sweet dish seems blander
Love is the religion
but now love is smidgen
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
But you can still find true love in me... For my cute Angel
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 2:39 PM UTC
It's over,
I'm ready,
My head is getting heavy,
Release me, I'll sleep
My last lights are fading
And.
With cander,
I'm looking back in anger
I'll take the first exist while the world's getting blander
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC