"cdh" poems
Her warm words wash over me like a dope fiend daze... other voices boorishly buzz a cackle cacophony. At best they are the background noise of your existence.
bit players (endless layers) as she comes my way
**Your body pixilates in an ******* focus**, it bends, projects all else slowly into your frame, the deja vu of ****** tunnel vision. I struggle to speak as I stand before you.
All others condemned, reduced to extras in a celluloid daydream
they are arrayed for your adornment
set pieces that surround you in the cinema that is your daily divine saunter
body sacramental (those around you incidental) as she walks away
The subtext, the reflex, the ambivalent, ambient lighting
means nothing without you
**my arc, my carnal ******
any other epilogue is dystopian
cdh
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 5:25 AM UTC
avenue sounds are never agreeable, ignore the drift,
ignore the hum,
ignore the suburban neophytes in the city lights (I never did care much for hipsters).
ignore rapid eye movements, the flush red face, ignore the snapshots of you that adorn my semi-sleep state
I stare at my ceiling and see the cobblestone summer streets you once graced, long ago in the eternal occident, I want to ignore but I’m so very boozed, in a blue lucid slumber:::
eyes closed::: my head spins and sleep begins with the tidal delirium of dopamine drips, your legs, your hips, I’m drowning a bit, doused in a sanguine sweat inside a fantasy **** I’m dreaming of you**)
Synaptic friction
she is a pleasant fiction
flash/sparks segue a dormant memory ,
the two of us riding familiar highways::: she gazes at me with her usual emerald encased ocular torment, those limbal rings cast aspersions at the last vestiges of my will power, until, I’m done, done in by the divinity of her lips:::
There is no end to (your) energy
It even finds me here::: in my dystopian dream (eternal)
now
an inescapable, **myopic curse
(nocturnal)**:::
the nightmare of not having you near
Awake, I roll over to clutch for the pacifier of your comfort (violent midnight)
I find only a fragrance,
i flail, searching, when those flashbacks fall short
isolated into the banality of bedsheets and pillows pleats
(the retrograde nature of my reality, now readily apparent)
cdh
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:28 AM UTC
A Reading from the Book of Puppets
**Her
Ventriloquist venom is never ending
engineering every word I should say**
Pity me as her words drip down from my mouth
Look to me... my paralyzing awkwardness admonishes all attempts at paucity
the ***** of vernacular continues
Manifest as a million babble born words
look at her and you’ll know why
***Would you sell your soul
if you spoke staccato and she smiled sadistic?***
And when she’s not there
***I lay prostrate on the railroad tracks
of her impending presence***
restrained
and retrained in the tailisman rope of your arrival
Look there now, a Tongue tied in knots, a mind firing (shots)
I am reduced
she is labyrinthine, in both style, and substance,
a sapiosexual maze, a soothing syrup mixed with
biter bile
why then does
nothing feel better than to see her smile
Why validate her pleasure
with my defeats?
Stuck and ****** into a singular melodious smile, the tune of which I can’t help but dance to
Why? Because at the end of the day
your eyes jut out
candelabras in defiance the night
notifying the world
of all you want but have yet to receive
a shallow existence .... a marked man... a million morbid motifs
made of mucus and stuttered star beams
You are that rare being, a glimpse at myself both wretched and alluring
A soul already tainted::: still I seek to embrue, the boredom
I am voiceless
in this decaffinated life
a tendril of hair
a woman domestic
a shadowland chaser
a light that’s poetic
The addictive tape worm of my soul
cdh
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 1:15 AM UTC
He stumbles through the door,
I take a kick to the chest,
And a yell,
That I'm worthless and to get the **** away,
I back away,
thinking it was my fault,
slinking to my mother,
I get in the car,
Not knowing what was in store,
Or how long I would really be apart from my hero,
I thought it would just be 2 weeks,
I was wrong,
My daddy comes home from prison,
I had forgotten the things from before,
And I hug him and kiss him,
I missed him,
He smiles and returns my affections,
I look at the woman,
Round and thick,
Jolly, if you please,
And slink behind my "hero",
He tells us it's ok,
We meet our soon-to-be-siblings,
Hugging,
Smiling,
Bonding,
The young one touches too much,
when nobody's around,
My daddy stops letting mommy,
see us,
talk to us,
How long has it been?
I miss my mommy...
Some people came,
He told us to lie,
Or else,
and we do,
They break the rules,
He tells us mommy's dead,
He killed her,
She's in the attic,
I start to cry and ask why,
He answers that she was a *****
Cops come a week later,
Everyone's screaming,
Holding,
Hiding,
I don't,
I want them to take us,
They take us up the road,
They let me sit in the front,
And press the buttons,
To the station we go,
To the back,
I see someone,
By a white bmw,
Smiling,
Mommy,
I start to cry,
laughing,
I jolted out of the car,
Letting my little brother out,
Running to my real hero,
She saved us from the man that fooled us all,
I am grateful,
I am thankful,
I am happy,
Mom,
It's been 7 years since that day,
We were away from you for a year,
We were all lied to,
Including you,
But I want you to know that Korey was never "Hero",
You were always our hero,
Conner,
Christian,
Me,
I love you,
and we will always be your babies.
cdh
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
I’m not of this time
Future traveler on vacation in the Land of Lost, a ship out of fuel, a world confusing, 30th century fool
I came to observe blind beings who bend to the will of a surrounding chaos
After 1000 years adrift... Tired of the creeping tedium, I’ve become one
Tired of Logging anime patches and social media confessionals for the folks back home, I became one
**You see, 21st century tragedy **** is big in the future, along with Akira and the selected letters of Eugene O’Neil**
I’m lost, tell my subordinates
Confused, no need of a map, I know the coordinates, but I’ve become one
You’re not supposed to fall in love on these missions
Just take manga pics, perhaps monitor your fission
But the eyes I’m lost in
A fading autumnal green
I had to see her, I had to be seen
A violation but I’m trained,
still I’m weak, a mind so ingrained
(I am one of you now)
While drunk counting slightly smeared, sparkles on glass glittered lips, I found myself: in love
I told her: “The wine taste on your tongue is sacramental”
A feigned profundity, it’s incidental
(a convenient disguise for my insanity)
She doesn’t love me back. But I found myself
cdh
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 5:09 AM UTC
My heart beats faster,
My knees weaken,
My eyes flutter,
My stomach tenses,
I feel warm,
I feel safe,
I feel loved,
In your arms,
arms,
arms,
I feel worthy,
I feel needed,
I feel wanted,
In your heart,
heart,
heart,
I feel touched,
I feel joyous,
I feel.... blissful,
In your arms,
arms,
arms,
Your arms are a sanctuary,
And I gladly devote myself to thee,
In your arms,
I am yours,
In your heart,
I am yours,
I am bright,
I am riant,
I am halcyon.
cdh
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
When I was a little girl,
My daddy said he loved me,
But when he drank,
He would tell me to get the **** away,
And hit me and my brothers,
When I got a little older,
He stopped hitting me,
Especially at our weekend visits,
Because he knew I would tell,
But he still hit my brothers,
And later even my sisters,
But he talked down to me,
And always drank,
He said he loved me,
At the end of the day,
He'd even hold me when I slept,
Or give me medicine when I got sick,
But if he loved me,
And mommy,
And Boo,
And Bubba,
And Seren,
And Kiki........
He wouldn't change all the time,
And he wouldn't have hit us..
He treated us like property,
Like he owned us,
And everyone breaks their toys at one point,
Now,
Don't they?
You cannot love an object,
You cannot love your toys,
You cannot love your property,
I say I do not love him,
I say I want him gone,
But even though I see my step-dad as my father,
All I ever wanted was for my daddy to love me back,
To truly love me,
And treat us like family,
Not his objects,
Now,
I do not care,
I truly do not care,
I accept his existence,
I do not love him,
As my father,
But deep down,
I'll always love the good times,
The fake thought of his fatherhood,
But I love my step father,
I enjoy his existence,
He is my true
You cannot love your property....
cdh
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 10:37 AM UTC
Detonate the
galaxies we once groveled to
in defiance
fear the pen of God no more:::
Sharpen the senses (in the silent ether)
there
in a room alone
look at the mirror,
get out of the way
so you could see yourself
Rescue the trembling
low hanging fruit of our annihilation
Dance in the sparks of our
daybreak demise
Feel the pinch of the burn as it blinds you
with new eyes
suffer the saving grace wisdom
fate (life) is sadistic
pain is palpable
so let your flesh grow recalcitrant
free will is there if you want it
You Detonated my
galaxy now i grovel to you
I fear the pen of God no more:::
Sharpen your senses (in this silent ether)
you were always there
in a room alone
in the mirror, refusing to get out of the way
so you could see yourself
You’re trembling
Shaking, as I taste the fruit of our annihilation
spark our demise as you ******
arch your back at daybreak
pinch, burn, it binds you
those eyes
the eternal grace of your wisdom
I surrender,
sadistic
when the pain is pleasurable
the light on your flesh glows violently
free will is there if you want it:::
now bid goodbye to those **incoherent
Bob Dylan daydreams**
cdh
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 12:59 AM UTC
I taste a metallic taste,
Iron,
Warmness,
I am choking,
I can barely swallow,
The taste is hinting.
It hurts,
A numbing pain,
A sharpness.
cdh
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
I long for the reign of the visual (her first look of the day)
The pitter patter stampede on my conscience
quickly softened with a touch; such is the cotton effect
of her flesh:::
still she isn't here
vile is the curse of distance
the struggle to be close to her::
**the want knows
what it's like to be beatified in accession**
ingratiated in proximity
inculcated by a smile
**when inches feel like miles
continents should be easy**
still I panhandle for a word
dumpster-dive for images
Forever searching for you, a salve of perfection, frozen in time
There is an arrogance in the required syllables needed to describe her grace
cdh
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 11:25 PM UTC
I would like,
To dedicate my love,
My pain,
My heart,
My joy,
To the ones,
Who have suffered,
Are suffering,
Will suffer,
Except those,
Who rightfully deserve it,
Like the ones,
Who beat children,
Who touch children,
Who **** children,
Who **** people,
Who **** people,
Who abuse people,
Children and people,
Who do not deserve this treatment,
The ones who plead,
The ones who beg,
The ones who hope,
The ones who cry,
The ones who die,
At the monster's hands,
There are people who deserve to suffer,
For the pain they've caused,
Oh so many people,
I would like,
To dedicate my love,
My pain,
My heart,
My joy,
To the ones,
Who have suffered,
Are suffering,
Will suffer,
Except the true monsters.
cdh
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 9:53 AM UTC
in out, in out,
**a pain of preposition repetitions
teaches the celluloid torture of ocean green eyes**
::: I take only truth from her sea foam gaze (and from her lips a lonely lie)
**Is the imitation of repeated mistakes still the
sincerest form of flattery?**
**Are the cutting hematic glances of invisable ink
designed to Draw and Quarter me**?
If so, let the blood letting begin miss
With a sketched Steel Heart , I puppy dog pursue you with a pirouette pen, spun into your Iron Maiden.
and as Thumb Screws and finger blues
replace those bite, **** fantasies, I marvel with appreciation at my favorite mistake.
No one does cold like her
cdh
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 1:15 AM UTC
My mouth makes its daily pilgrimage
A sacramental routine to the Divine
She resonates in eyes and mind
But that's a tale for another day
On a pedantic quest
He is meticulous, a perfectionist
In nothing
But this...
Stop now:: hold me at the hips
she is my anticipation in alabaster
so Sadistic, brooding, now my near biting mouth moves...
“please?”
projecting points, two sinful
hipbone temptations
as he traces
soft skin with two fingers
***in the serpentine tradition
Of fallen
Eden Grace***
he knows she feels the same
Her chest pounding, sweat shakes
a daytime ****** for that salination:::
coyly she recoils
her toy taught and long since conditioned for the taste
it all seems so familiar
A mind's race to the vault of all his ***** thoughts of her
***”Now to play in real time what was run through
in those shower wet ideations”***
cdh
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 5:56 PM UTC
Doctors Orders: Take two of these and text me in morning...
be thankful (after all something is better than nothing, right?)
better yet
satiate and salivate (side effects of the drug, but at least it shows you care)
fill my monthly prescription... (my god, the synthetic fantasies she provides)
the tantalizing **** tease of what could have been
with
promises of a RomCom script I'll never read
replicate dosage until hackneyed (then be sure to beg for more)
your body on a fishhook
your heart in a bear trap
always taken in conjunction with
a "healthy" dose
of
**your true intentions
pixelated in darkness**
cdh
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 10:53 PM UTC
A crush
A raw spark of love, only as dangerous as the subsequent blaze that consumes you
He loves her as a selfish escape
He loves her for the promise
of brilliant mornings
He loves her
for the touch of her rain soaked legs, after those knee cap kisses
she is a dashboard masterpiece,
reclined
Interred with a flesh of subterranean
brilliance
He loves her for the chance at
brilliance
The Choking Charcoal effect of her eyes'
Brilliance
The Choice of a Chalice imbibed as he drinks between her taste brilliant
cdh
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 2:10 AM UTC
CDH
the epilogue empties, the arc has flatlined, a judge now speaks
“your sentence is to be a windy day Eternal Tether, neither holding nor held”
This breeze. Those wind gust.
Foil flips, sunlight bouncing as it spins at sunrise... the trash is gaining traction now
you get the icons you are worthy of
and your children are sentenced to bow to plastic pariahs repurposed as heroes
pray away the bad man, and bubblewrap the rest. do you recall that innocence girl?
it emptied from you, quivering, as a smile stole the corners of your mouth.
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 4:42 AM UTC