"budged" poems
Hold the universe inside my palms
I alone understand it is but a solitary dream
Between stars I make out memories
Connecting dots, forming images ingrained in my mind
I look in the unfilled depths of sky where suns have yet to burn out, remaining eternally preserved in an explosion of beauty lightyears away wondering about humans peering at their ambience through time and space
This isolated reflection I witness change in compliance with the predetermined path set in motion by the astrological forces of nature
Unstable
My hands must be trembling
Scared of sorrow and frustration they undeniably confront
The fear of the uncertain, the inconsistency of the unapologetic future awaiting
Solemn visions of an imperfect outcome, enough torment to push strength a bit too far over the edge
Fragile balance of peace and chaos resting within cupped desperate hands
Ignorant, the quickness of extinction among synapses in the cavern lighting the entirety of my skull
Pinned under familiar self-induced delusions
Galaxies silently begging for permanent freedom
Such fate to let their wishes dangle ignored
Urges within bursting, released
That moment I also give in
Forcefully close my fingers into a fist
Instantly crushing wild constellations scattered around my consciousness
A great deal more fragile than realized
Once unshakable destiny budged a millimeter by one lone act of rebellion
Against a powerful pull the majority pretend is rigid
Elusive control by way of self-combustion of life's temporary illusions
Proof one touch can fell worlds of fantasy
Founded on fiction
Or maybe
Reality
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC
Never have I been the best at hiding how I feel. There is no peaceful game. My face reveals the truth. Never to be doubted. Nothing left to wonder. Still, I reign it in. I stifle my reality in an attempt to keep you close. So tender-hearted beneath that thickening shell. The shell I penetrated somehow. Once you found me in your heart, you pushed with all your might. Trying to get me out. I cannot be budged. Yet, I am not free to love you. You refuse to let me be yours in theory or practice. You love me, but not by choice. Fear of the possibility of pain keeps you at bay. Yet saving yourself from pain has deemed my own inconsequential. For running from me pulls out my heart.
**Pushing me away
What's best, or just what's easy
Burns holes in my soul**
Not one to take the easy way out. Suffering to love you. There is no expectation of love requited. There is nothing but a dream, part memory part wishful thinking. Hot needles still poke at me, slowly breaking me down. Weakening my very being with the sharp jabs of stinging words or careless action, or worse...absolute inaction. I have learned to stop expecting the "Morning Sunshine" or "'Night Darlin'" that used to brighten each day. Those thoughtless things, the tiny nothing things that let me know I was on your mind. So far from nothing those nothings were. Days and nights seem incomplete in their absence. Weaning to make your days bearable makes mine unendurable, empty, and melancholy has come to underlie all things.
**Joy of love melts ice
Heat smothered by a tear cloud
Threadbare soul survives**
Challenges faced sideways leave blind spots. Choices made by indecision. Letting mistakes be made, watching as they choose wrong. I see the truth and know what I know. Everything is aligned for my own misfortune. For as a bystander, I lay no claims. Anything I do will hasten the inevitable. So I let the weaning drip down to nothing. Reluctantly I watch as you disappear with my heart in hand. I stood firm as you ran away in place. You turned to me, you needed me, you loved me. As the clouds dissipate and the sun creeps over the horizon, With the blue sky I turn to mist. Slowly fading to the past. A ghost of could've been, used to be, and never was
**Surrender takes time
Reluctantly relinquished
I will fight no more**
Oct 7, 2011
Oct 7, 2011 at 12:36 AM UTC
What is hoped trickling between
splintered crags of hard matter
as between slabs of sliced I
like water through the desert crust
the beginning-end fusioned whole?
it resplendent through the cracks?
What might be enough
for its time being
might be the first loosening
a knot’s dissolution
beginning
unwrapping light and breath
deep underground
after prying like suffocation
the thing loose, never budged,
still you yanked, pulled,
screamed, spumed, more than
frustration through your fingertips.
For the brain, don’t be fooled,
s’more the psychedelic fruit
than just saying apple computer
the pulpous embryo of imagination
feeding
what seed, sprouting tendrils,
protracts without desire
(but causing desire)
ever outward, growing, clasping,
(hinging on unhinging) meshing
an electric net
and collapsing a shock they say
until the taste of its taste
is so succulently pungent
that after hours of dull mumbling
its projection upon the mirrors
it bursts in puffs of screams
short tense contractions
[image fizzing, over-heating].
Like a cracked computer reading
an animal program: *Alpha Beast
of the Ill-Illusioned*. Or: *Runt Wolf
of Gaia, the Undarwinian Survivor*.
Software ones and zeros digitizing
the command:
Must do the act cannot be done.
Till it breaks. Unimagined.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:11 PM UTC
the humble priest who, clothed in black and drab
old moth-holed garb and well-worn holy shoes,
saw yellow-orange men with breath infused
survive while hammered under concrete slabs,
adorned with seizure's scrapes and new dried scab,
a monk's black cap and simple wooden cross,
from Shaolin's breath could not be pushed or tossed,
or even budged when by his arm was grabbed,
then one whose throat withstood the point of spear,
did ask the priest what powers blocked his chi,
the humble priest explained and this he said,
"from chi's destructive force i had no fear,
for i did what you could not hear or see,
recite the name of One raised from the dead"
(C)2013, Christos Rigakos
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
I can’t feel
anything
At all.
There is nothing,
My mind is blank.
Writing is getting hard,
My words just
Feed into each other
Thereisnospacetomoveinthismess.
I can’t focus longer than
A couple minutes,
If that.
It’s like everything is a dream;
Now and again
I wake up
Into a blurred reality,
S lowly
drifting away again
Into the nothingness.
I cannot make out what you are saying,
Scream at me;
I don’t understand.
Anger takes over me,
And a headache
that hasn’t budged for days,
Suddenly rips out of me
Exploding into the air
Covering everything within 5meters;
With stardust
And gun powder.
(I can’t tell the difference)
You’re the only thing
that could make me feel
A little more alive
At the moment,
But I can’t even
get close enough
To your face,
Without shaking
And then collapsing
To the floor.
I’ll smoke cigarettes
And get drunk;
Just to be able
To hear you whisper
In my ear
And to block out
The muffled voices
in my mind.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC
Happiness is like a dream
something I can recall,
but it isn't tangible and
I can't seem to reach it,
there's a road block in my way
Too tall to climb over,
too far in the ground to crawl under
stretches for miles
and made of thoughts and
self-hating theories
That wall has ruined a lot for me,
it never seems to understand I don't like it
Can't really take a hint
I've beat the **** out of it,
and it hasn't budged
It's pretty exhausting.
Don't call it fight when you know it's a war,
with nothing but your t-shirt on
You can fight a wall
but you're not going to get anywhere
It's an imaginary wall
Really, just an illusion
a hypothetical object stopping me
but it seems so real
and it really hurts
hitting it again
and again
and again and again
I was hoping this year was going to be better for me,
but really,
I'm only worse,
and it's only February.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
She ran the world to destruction
The Swat team couldn’t beat her
Even the Avengers were too weak
Although they did a little number
On her confidence in herself
But she soon gained it back
And destroyed anything and everything
She could get her hands on to attack
Iron Man was an ant
She easily flicked away
The Hulk was a tiger
She was eager to play
Those helicopters shooting
missiles near her
Are just asking to die…
She flung the Hulk at their door
They all crashed to the ground,
None of them budged
All of this
And non of her makeup smudged
She’s an evil they can’t beat
So maybe make amends?
She could possibly just want
To make some friends
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 8:17 PM UTC
You named her “best friend”
And she became the twitch in my eye
She became the wall I began to hurl myself against
Praying that I wouldn’t shatter before she budged
You named me “baby”
And marked me down for what I am
A child who doesn’t like to share
A jealous girl clutching her favorite teddy bear
Who’s one temper-tantrum away from scratching at anyone who’s ever touched him
There are parts of me that I’m afraid of letting you see
Pieces that I cracked in other girls’ mirrors
Trying to be all that was desirable in them
Lately I find myself
Crunched into the corner of her looking glass
Desperate to know how she commands your attention
She seems so harmless
Small and smiley
But I’ve watched her gaze
Seen it try to tear me from your side
So I named her “benzene”
Sweet and cloying
And toxic
I’ve been gagging on her name ever since
Felt it clawing at my throat
Forcing me to either acknowledge her presence
Or choke
Still, I named you “dearest”
And she has been watching me with liquid nitrogen stares
Unreactive but deathly cold
Leaving me goose-bumped and panicked
You sing her name
Oblivious to how it knocks against my ears
How it squeezes my skull until I’m retching
So I named her “migraine”
And every time she is there I am ill
Her name has me ripping out my insides just to stop feeling sick
Wondering how to rewrite myself
So that you won’t crave her attention anymore
How to make myself good enough
So that you won’t need her anymore
You named me “beautiful”
Sighed about getting lost in my eyes
But I noticed
Hers and mine are the same color
Sometimes I can’t help but wonder
When you’re staring into mine
Do you wish they were hers?
Still, you named me “dearest”
“Darling”
“Girlfriend”
You named her “best friend”
I am afraid of what she names you
Aug 24, 2011
Aug 24, 2011 at 11:51 PM UTC
Breaker Bar
Every now and then I get the itch to lift
The simple slender breaker bar in my hands
Snap a socket on the square pivot fitting
And go hunting for a big fat frozen bolt
One that hasn’t budged in ages, rust bound
Threads that yearn to give held fast by a split
Spiral washer, tense marriage of wedge
To pent up tension for no other reason
Than to feel the sheer unbridled joy
That comes from applying Archimedes
Law of the Lever, poised to deliver
A stunning verdict proclaimed with a sharp
Dry crack that travels through my hands
My arms to light up some forgotten
Constellation in a dark and dusty
corner of my brain, closing a circuit
That began with the simple slender
Breaker bar, bequeathed but rarely wielded
A conjure stick to summon you back to
Throw your weight around, tip the scales in my
Favor, balanced absurdly here on the business end.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 7:12 AM UTC
Wind pushed along the clouds..
The same way I budged myself through the light of day..
My thoughts have become a cliché..
Deemed, my mind is soon to decay..
Hazy.. lazy..
Shadowing time..
Tailing this lure.. through dusk and dawn.
I'm jaded.
I'm faded.
This world has got me shaded.
There's nothing I can do,
but fight for my virtue.. wherethrough, dusk.. and dawn...
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC
Why would I ever venture to guess
That you would be willing to meet me halfway?
My empty attempts are wasted endeavors
I give it my best shot
In pursuit of mutual presence
A hesitant undertaking that
Solicits the same solidarity I strive to stifle
I know I'm a hindering burden that
Overloads you like a snow covered tree
Still clinging on to its leaves
Never letting them go until they're
Weighed down and overloaded
A strain crack break
Brings it down in a thunderous sound
To handshake the ground
I am a huge hassle that hugs his hostile self
Grabbing his own handful heart
Holding it in the air as a sign to declare
Sorry for the inconvenience
I've been rocked goodbye
The wind didn't blow
It was snow that broke me
The bow never budged
It was the entire tree that plummeted
A swift fall to bring my cradle and all
Crashing so you no longer have to sit
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
**Seeing the man for nearly twenty years
In his eternal Spring of joblessness**
Man, wife, a son
A one storied house
Market and home
The only places I have seen him tread
And on the roof
Any time of day
He’s there
Staring around
Sky gazing
I envy him
His length and space
Stealing my Saturday dusk
Sunday dawn
Weekday moon
I envy him
For so much time
If I had
Would have spun endless rhyme
But then ceasing remorse
That like him
Much time isn’t mine
I think
*Stuffed with so much seen
Heard
Observed
The bard in me
In free time’s delirious wine
Wouldn’t have budged a line!*
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 7:35 AM UTC
You sat by my bed everyday
You kept me spirit happy, gay
You gave me a reason to fight
Because if I died I wouldn't see your sight
You knew when I was in a rut
You knew when I had started to cut
You never judged
By my side, you never budged
You are the reason I now thrive
When many thought I would not survive
Now I start over in Oregon, Eugene
You saved my life Jeanine
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 2:32 PM UTC
I
looked into his eyes
overlooking the pain in mine
vanity
enveloped all other emotion
touching him
overtook my heart with
overwhelming devastation
i
never
thought he wouldn't change his mind
even after my pleas, my tears he
never budged on his
stance to
erase me from his
life and leave me
yearning.
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 6:35 PM UTC
And sometimes after all of it
he would curl up with him
and in tear and tears and tears
squeeze him.
He would whimper
into folds of fur
and grab them like a ship's rigging
to sail into abyss after abyss
and heave after heave
splash after splash
he felt the water upon his skin
like forgiveness. Simply,
the dog never budged.
He breathed life
up and down like
wave into wave.
Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 1:15 AM UTC
I interrupt my thoughts for a second.
I need to analyze the situation.
Now I'm just contradicting myself...
I can't tell what my point is, there is no understanding of reality right now.
Distractions cease to come to me.
I am stuck in this infinite loop self-thought.
Is any of what I am thinking making any sense?
Who's to answer such a question?
I am the judge of makes sense and what doesn't.
I know the answers to my own questions.
Too many questions.
Time hasn't budged.
I am the only thing distracting me now.
I am now without thought...
but that's impossible?
If I am clear of mind how am I able to process these words?
Just because someone is clear of mind does not mean that someone is without thought.
There is no such thing as absent minded.
I have lost feeling in my legs and my arms.
But my hearing has increased ten-fold.
I can distinguish every single sound from each other.
I don't know which sound is loudest or the quietest.
I don't even know which sound I like the best.
This is incredible. It is Beautiful.
I can't believe what I'm doing is illegal.
No need to get political.
No need at all.
In life stay neutral for as long as you can 'til you have to pick a side.
Well what side do I pick?
The one that's right.
Nov 17, 2010
Nov 17, 2010 at 9:55 AM UTC
*"She was a little bird
Seemingly free from her cage
Of pain and mutilation."*
But they held her down,
Trapping her in her past.
They plucked her feathers out
One by one and bit by bit,
Until her wings were
Sorry excuses
And ****** stumps.
They reached her hands down her throat
And pulled out her voice:
The one she used to sing
Her sorrowful songs
And happy chirps with.
They took apart her torso
To reveal a beating ****** heart,
And they tore it to shreds
Leaving only icicles in place
Where it hurt to feel.
They reached to her face
And pulled out her longing eyes
Once big and beautiful
And left small black marbles in their place,
Allowing her to only see the beautiful world
As a monotonous void of has-beens.
They cut off her legs
The ones she used to dance and to run
And left behind twigs
Which left her unstable and wobbly;
Incapable and useless like a newborn without purpose.
They extracted her brain from her skull
Pulling out thoughts and dreams and imagination,
Forcing in demons and terrors
To keep her company during her lonely nights.
But then,
They tried to cut off her soul.
And they wrestled and fought,
They ****** and twisted,
But nothing budged.
It was as if
It was never there in the first place.
What they never knew
Was that a soul,
Being merely an embodiment of this little bird,
Contained barely a whisper of a being
Yet,
Was able to make or break the very core
Of one who could no longer feel.
Little did they know
As they tore her apart limb from limb
And took away everything she had ever known,
The very light which gave breath to her
Stopped
Shining
And left her.
Just like everybody else.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 1:33 AM UTC
As I sit . . .
green leaves hang . . . motionless . . .
~our earth spins on it's axis over a thousand miles per hour~
As I watch . . .
adagio grasses bow in repose . . .
~our earth orbits the sun over sixty-six thousand miles per hour~
As I rest . . .
vinca vines trail unruffled . . .
~our solar system whirls around the milky-way over five-hundred thousand miles per hour~
As I wonder . . .
flowers pose placid and serene
~our milky-way hurls headlong over a million miles per hour~
In my garden . . .
stillness reigns resolute . . . amidst this unimaginable tempestuous maelstrom
I am called to witness this defiance;
this static anarchy against the universe's irresistible momentum
I am surrounded by leafy verdure in stock-still solidarity;
blossoms colored with un-budged boldness
and tendriled vines in composed contempt
I am called to witness this unperturbed mutiny against torrid irascible forces
As I sit . . . musing on this peaceful anarchy
I think on He . . . that humble anarchist
waging peace against war
love against hate
grace against revenge
His submissive cheek immovable against brutish forces
I sit . . .
peacefully content in my garden of Eden
unmoved . . .
by the celerity of this careening world
geo.vuy 2015
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 6:48 PM UTC
exterior
summer night
streets
city
unwelcomely cast
with blighted solution
an abrasive wash on the senses
like an orange filter
of muted television static
everything is one lit shade
budged shy of a reality
streets city
pried
between the housings
the baked on drain spoilage
munched under my tread
dwelling units weigh
loud down above me
beat in silence
no one alights balconies
a clustered population bulk
no one shares light in this building
and no one is known to their neighbour
anxious of their fellows
they coil
around their trusted genitalia
soundly
and despise
Sep 29, 2021
Sep 29, 2021 at 4:01 PM UTC
As the skies darkened with each passing moment
I ran inside
A place to hide
Slammed the door shut
Soon after the pounding began
I stood there braced against the entrance
The door being ripped apart but not being budged
I go to the place where I can get peace of mind
The longer I stand there, the more the pounding ceases to be heard.
Soon it stops
I'm free from the emotions and thoughts chasing after me
Left with a numbness
How can I ever leave this place now?
If I let them in I'll surly be torn apart
If I wish to face them...how do I start?
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 3:11 AM UTC
The ring that you gave
made my finger blue
it was suffocated it was bruised
tried to rip it off most nights
but it didn't come off yeah it never budged
and one day it did and the next i missed it
the bruise started to heal it went purple then yellow
but there stayed a line an indentation of what we went through
in the finger with the vein to my heart
some nights when the world gets to me
i look at it - the mark that you left
then suddenly I'm craving you
like air underwater
and it makes me want to swim back to you
we both know i won't survive the tides
yet the love vein's pulling me back to you .
Mar 5, 2025
Mar 5, 2025 at 11:52 PM UTC
Subtle, ever so subtle, we meet at the brink of dawn.
Yet, if you were to ask me, to be completely honest this is
a rather brash introduction. No 'How do you do?'
or anything of the sort. It's just all
'straight down getting dirty' as some would call it.
This is the type of dalliance
that most only get to imagine once
or twice in their lifetimes, yet alone experience.
And here I dance with the Devil
amongst a sinful serenade of gluttony,
complemented by a fair overdose of lust.
Feeling a bit violated by the events taken place, I wonder...
What has come to be of the good old-fashioned courtship?
The 'Getting to know you' part, you know?
I really don't want a reputation for being easy.
This arousing ordeal can definitely be rather intimidating
if you must -- but not for me, though. All that is needed
is a tad bit of finesse, and your fair share of patience.
All that goes out the window without having the ability
to deal with her mouth-watering coquetry, of course.
I still haven't budged, and she still thinks me "easy."
That is very, very cute. Those eyes never lie, and
although I know what they want, they can't have it.
Before I make way for her, I'll ask Modena if she's worth it.
Its only logical, right?
***************************************************************
I don't think this qualifies as poetry, but I posted this at the suggestion of a friend. Thanks for the read~
***************************************************************
Nov 9, 2010
Nov 9, 2010 at 8:50 AM UTC
I cannot
I can’t feel
At all.
There is nothing,
My mind is blank.
Writing is getting hard,
My words just
Feed into each other,
Therearenospacestomoveinthismess
I can’t focus longer than
A couple minutes,
If that,
It’s like everything is a dream;
Now and again
I wake up
Into reality,
Then slowly
Drift away
Into the nothingness.
I cannot make out
what you are saying,
Scream at me;
I don’t understand.
Anger takes over me,
And a headache
That hasn’t budged for days,
Suddenly rips out of me
Exploding into the air
Covering everything within 5meters;
With stardust
And gun powder.
(I can’t tell the difference)
You’re the only thing
That makes me feel
A little more alive
At the moment,
But I can’t even
Get close enough
To your face,
Without shaking
And then collapsing
To the floor.
I’ll smoke cigarettes
And get drunk;
Just to be able
To hear the whispers
In my ear
And to block out
the
muffled voices
in my mind.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
how's it going Harry?
how do you feel?
I'm not sure if it is going
the hands on my clocks
haven't budged an inch
in a long time
how's it going?
I hide from certain thoughts
my mind
no longer a place of safety
an intellectual get away
the world has invaded
and taken up a residency
which I hope isn't permanent
My wallet has been empty for a while
unemployed
no degree
and I only have three cigarettes left
how's it going?
I can't complain
I could
but it would be useless
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC