"buired" poems
Never down this road did I sing within a tune
Never while I wandered
did I ever think of you
Ever as I walked, I ached right down to bone
Never once your name is whispered
Walking too far from home
Break the spirit spill the wine
flood the river before my time
You can't predict the future when you can't see the past
I yearn for the groove and the rest of the **** that will never last
Take me down I simply do not care
We rebound with others in which we simply do compare
The Summer is gone now
its here for you
Spring is my jester
now I'm playing the shrew
I'll keep on walking until the end of day
With no companion
nor fair sense of play
Just walking down this endless path
Not leaving a trace for others to mark
No telling story where I might have laid
No fleeting glory in this trek I've made
I'll not speak outside the lines
as I walk on down
this great divide
Sit you down with a drink to sip
but beware the bottomless of the cup
for degradation that way lays
as noted by walking
these endless days
Tomorrows a birch boy the **** never seems to end
Old friends past
no trace remains
Happiness is a grand disillusion so let's not pretend
In those pines down
in that humid breeze
is where the past does exist
Buired are my thoughts
somewhere unmarked
is the grave underneath the leaves
From Carolina to Brisbane the weather's different
and always the same
Words passed between poems stories are all just different solutions to the exact duplicate game
No one knows where the wind blows
driving needles from the pines into veins that are on fire
But we keep on walking
Bare feet on black tar
Walking on until we tire
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 5:48 AM UTC
Beneath the earth in tomb I lay trapped in night.
I hear the voices speaking yet cannot reply.
They mourn my death yet no not my living hell.
As I struggle to scream no words can I release.
I hear the words dust to dust yet I am alive.
I here the coffin begin its final journey into
its bed of earth.
And as I am erased from memory I am
slowley buired alive.
No one to hear. Unable to move I am but trapped within a shell
and burried within this cacoon of sering heat.
The air growing thin every breath burns my lungs.
Why can I not speak why must I suffer?
I strain but no words do escape my throat.
In darkness I lay waitting wishing to slip into a final
rest to escape my burning torment.
Strangled slowley in the devils arms.
Death a promise yet a far off nightmare
from this hell in which I exist.
Blind in life and bound in death.
A tear escapes my eye leaving a trail down my cheek.
The last water i shall know of heat and salt.
My last vision of darkness and the emptyness
from which there is no escape.
I pray to at last embrace the words.
And understand the true meaning of.
Goodbye!
Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 12:41 AM UTC
Unimaginable apocalyptic horrors are inflicted on the innocent people
of Palestine and darkness is all around and I'm just another Palestinian blown all around and
My family is crying in wilderness every day
No where safe to stay no food today and evil roams in the Gaza tonight with the devil tonight and I'm just another Palestinian child been buired in Gaza today.
Oct 28, 2023
Oct 28, 2023 at 5:04 AM UTC
I knew my father's death-date before I knew his birthday. Felt a hint of shame in saying that, but he wasnt around, nothing to celebrate. I was under the impression he didn't want me, so I left even the thought of knowing him behind. I held resentment buired in my heart for a long time, dormant, for he didn't often cross my mind. When tensions were high as a child sometimes I would get the, "...live with your father." threats...but what would scare me most about that was leaving my friends.
A few myspace messages are all we had, but through it I got to see how you represented yourself. Warm and caring. You definitely liked to have fun, but while you were able, you were there for those that needed you for love. Mom, as I got older, would trip out over the resemblance...but beyond looks; voice&personality. Your birthday is December 12th, and I get to celebrate it at a rap show with friends in New Orleans. 12/12...one two one two, the hip-hop in me once breathed in the hip-hop in you. Today is ten years, wild how fast the time flies. No longer though do I sit and wonder why. Feel free to press send on the message from the heaven you settled in.
We met for three days when you came to visit ma n me while I was 3. 1+2, 1+2...3, 3. I must be being watched over by a 33rd degree - angel. Your loss was painful. I'm still learning how to heal & study angles from the pool table. Seriously playful, but I had to learn to pick up self whenever my head would hang low. Christmas 2008 was planned for...but November 16th brought too much snow. Yeah, it blows. But I've already had my sadness overdose. We were getting close to being close, but your absence in life taught me how to grow. Taught me how to stay warm when your environment is cold. Just wish I could hear your thoughts of all you'd want me to know. Still, energy forever flows, this book is never closed.
Love you pops
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 7:20 PM UTC
sssshhhhhh hear that? Iam your inner voice calling
Iam what you confide in when you are falling
so near so close never far away
always listening to what you say
Iam the reason for restless sleep
quietly nagging away; buired deep
Iam that gut instinct that avoids danger
Iam the thought process thats a bit stranger
I will call out "I wouldnt do that if I were you"
i'll be there for everything you go through
Iam the result of pain that produces strength
Iam what you are sure of and what you ment
unheard unseen by others the inability to speak out
only voiced when supported by a confidence bout
Iam carefully masked behind politeness
The part of ones being so contrite and righteous
A whisper from your inner voice can change ones views
I can spread doubt fright fear and leave one quite confused
Your inner voice is something we all have in common
Wether you choose to listen to it is a positive type of phenomenon.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 4:07 AM UTC