"carfully" poems
Skip a stone across a still pond,
Creating ripples of obscurity.
Skip a stone across a river
Screaming I believe,
I believe.
Who can know with sure and sound
That rocks will make their presence found?
Maybe so if rocks are shy
They may quietly skip on by.
Little to you be known,
Rocks can snarl as they go.
So if you mean no harm
Take steady aim before you throw,
Because skipping a stone across a pond
Is a whole lot more chaotic
Than skipping in a river.
Skipping in a pond is profound
Lasting until the edges had eroded.
Skipping in a river is forgotten.
Rock swallowed up.
Know your goal before release
A single stone can shatter peace;
A single stone can go unknown
But leave it's seed to be grown.
Know the change you want to see,
So you can release your stone Carfully.
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 11:24 PM UTC
MESSAGE GOES HERE
BE BRIEF
Do your thoughts have limbs strong enough to choke you?
THERE ARE ARMS HERE –STOP- THOUSANDS –STOP-
Can I see fragments fester in your dilated pupils?
MY EYELIDS HAVE GROWN THICKER OVER TIME –STOP-
CAPILLARIES ONCE BRANCHING OUT FROM LASHES HAVE ERODED –STOP-
INDEPENDENT RUMINATIONS HAVE BEEN CARFULLY CONTAINED –STOP-
Then, at what point do your ‘ruminations’ make you colorblind?
NOW –STOP-
I WILL PAINT MYSELF BLUE TODAY –STOP- AT LEAST I THINK SO –STOP-
I FIGURE LACERATIONS WILL LOOK NICE IN PURPLE –STOP-
After they bring brownness, are you fit enough to die?
WITH LOVE
–STOP-
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 2:12 PM UTC
B A N G
You hear the slam of the front door and flinch because
The worst and best woman in the world
Is home.
6:04
The question is,
Four minutes late which person will she be tonight?
Fast forward
10:04
And her blurred english runs with the fourth glass
Of jack daniels that night.
You try to stay out of it,
But soon,
M and her are screaming.
Unseen,
You escape carfully,
Quietly
Fearfully
To your room,
Its always best to wait out a storm.
S L A P
And you can hear fist connecting with jaw
What next.
11:04
You hear
Him try to stop her,
But
Every
Single
Time
Its too late, no use.
11:33
You call me.
Its not uncommon for me to get these texts:
Hey. Sorry its late. Im coming over.
And you creep out of your home in the dark
And crawl to mine.
My mother always questions the
Black under your eyes,
The blue of your lips,
The purple of your jaw.
Is a house really a home when
You're completely alone?
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 3:40 PM UTC
Body trembling as I carfully remove the blade.
Breath getting harder as I hold it in my hand.
Release as I pull the blade through my frail skin.
A sence of calmness as I watch the blood fall from the
fresh wound on my wrist.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 9:51 PM UTC