"chitchat" poems
My voice is a wall of glass
On the both side of the wall it's all the same
The roof is consisted of umbrella-shaped beams
The world is an embroidered web
I'm a spider that don't spew silk
cling on to intertwining iron bars
Accidentally chocked my fly to death
Buried it in the oblivion sky
Fed on chitchat
I'm now becoming a skinny,
wind up bird.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
Some days you feel like you need to write something.
I know I'm not relatable, don't be too worried.
But today is one of those days where writing nothing,
Feels like betrayal hurried.
Some days you wish you could disappear.
I can't decide whether today is one of those days or not.
My crush disappears at 1:55 I fear,
But it's not like I ever enter his thoughts.
But some days aren't like that.
Some days you think there's nothing at all.
When in reality your mind is filled with chitchat.
You feel ready to fall
Right out of your seat
But that's alright.
Lunch sounds kind of boring,
But I suppose it's the people there who count.
My friends are always kind of alluring
They're some of the best people I've found.
You think someday someone will sit next to you
And you'll know it's them,
But you realize few
People find it's them.
I'm one of those people who finds the empty parts of the hallway to walk in.
Luckily, my friends are too, so I'll see them there, in the empty parts of the hallway.
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 10:17 AM UTC
Espresso Yourself
Word hit like espresso shots,
got that stress of regret you’re best to let it go,
best to express it outta your self tun it into espresso,
or else that regret will fester into gunpowder until it totally explodes,
unload reload,
you’re the gun,
memories are the ammo,
noting is verboten even when forgotten,
this twisted linguistic addict attitude is not an act or a show,
but the derangement of this is entertainment regardless,
and this artist is in demand all around the world,
they want to take my time,
and everything else that I thought was mine,
but I don’t have the time to spare because I’m in a race to nowhere,
trying to find the finish line before I completely lose my mind,
gaining ground in quicksand sick and no one seems to care,
grinding grounds no chitchat i just grab my espresso and get outta there,
there as in here no beer just these coffee beans this is a caffeine affair,
I’ll take a double on the double,
actually if it’s more simple I’ll take a triple,
no milk no sugar no trouble,
just this espresso and these expressions that ripple,
with words hit like espresso shots,
got that stress of regret you’re best to let it go,
best to express it outta your self tun it into espresso,
or else that regret will fester into gunpowder until it totally explodes…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
I’m sorry boo,
maybe I’m too much for you.
my mind keeps thinking too much
and you’re afraid of my touch
I’m too heavy, too intense
or maybe you’re too weak, no offense
I’m too smart, too elegant
don’t want to sound arrogant
I’m too emotional, too loud
and hell yes, I’m ******* proud
too this, too that
I don’t want to chitchat
so I’m sorry boo,
but maybe I’m just too much for you.
- gio, 22.03.2020
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 3:15 PM UTC
With blinders on they let the wrong go on
No interventions
No attempts to make it right
Look the other way
Not putting up a fight
They must kinda like it
You know
If trust were an *****
Then I’d say they’re looking for a donation
Another one to ***** up
Like cirrhosis of the liver
They’re lookin’ to corrupt another
Kinda a sick when you think about it
Acting as if nothing occurred
Forget that pain we condoned
It’s as if I’m a scapegoat, placed on throne
Smiles and chitchat are replaced suddenly
Each with a heavy rock and jagged stones
I emerge from the mess; still angry
I don’t fight, No I don’t get revenge
But I’m still angry
What do I do when I’m still angry
I want to cause pain
I want to get them close and turn my back
I want to be the one with the power and the patience
The push them to the brink and fill them with self doubt
But no, I don’t fight
I don’t get revenge
I just get angry.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC
I placed the Camus book
face down on the canteen table
other nurses sat over the way talking
looking at some magazine
smoke rose from a cigarette
put on the side of an ashtray
I sipped my coffee
and looked down
at the bumf on the back cover
of the book
The Outsider
by Albert Camus
and other black print
I felt an outsider
outside the circle
of behind the back talk
the chitchat of this and that
I thought the mentally ill patients
more desirable company
with their smiles
and odd stares
and drooling mouths
I thought about Natanya
the night before
us at it in the bed
she holding me
about the waist
me looking down at her
at her black hair
her eyes gazing
the bed rocking away
she maybe thinking what
her kids might think
might say
a nurse got up
from the table
and laughed about something
then she went on her way
out the door
the other three sat
and talked about her
probably or more likely
me.
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 4:23 AM UTC
I love OD'ing on sunlight when I wake up
grab some OJ and go lay in the soft grass, and tell the birds to carry on
their light conversations and noisy chitchat above my closed eyes
open head - delve into me
the grass probably itches if I pay attention, but who cares
I can't restrain my limbs any longer
no more hanging in limbo with excuse of pain and no gain
I can't remember why I'm naked but
I always feel naked around you
I've always been naked under these clothes
My brain is dashing ahead, though I stop and gaze inward and upward
The trees could be mocking me, but they're probably just as happy to be themselves as I am
so I follow suit and reach up to ask for mutual attraction from the sky
and we start a new day
time to function
back to the grind
my gears shift and the grey leaks back into my veins
time to function
(but once you've overdosed on daylight, you're never the same)
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 12:37 PM UTC
When a woman is *****
She hides from the cynical eyes.
I went to work
Made idle chitchat
Wrote copays.
Most women avoid ***
And cringe at the thought of ********
I take part in *** compulsively
Crave male attention
I'm engaged nearly every night.
Some go to meetings
To share their struggles.
I don't want to hear your problems
Do not wish to share my own
I offer no support nor input.
**** victims are fragile
They break fairly easily.
I do not break
Nor do I crack
I just am.
I do not fit the description
Of victim nor survivor.
I question myself daily
Was it ****
Or an overreaction?
Most women cry
They seek comfort
They long for understanding
And justice.
I do not.
Am I a victim too?
A survivor?
Neurotic?
Anyone?
Jun 18, 2010
Jun 18, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
Just yapping away;
claver, clack, waffle, chunter,
off at the mouth;
yap yap yap yap!
Bla!, bl!, bl!, Blar! B~blar!
Let's shut our mouths, and stop pretending and drown the blather with cups of tea!
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
* As I was familiarizing the sulky start,
Seeking clues in my mindful halt,
I aboard my ride for another venture,
Holding my seat as script on censor,
Lost in retrospect of my past,
Heard a familiar tone at last,
He got me indulged with the queries of life,
Sharing his perspectives of life,
It seems like he has tapped into my mind,
After a chitchat, he seems to be one of my kind,
At last it was the time to say goodbye,
Leaving me reasons, for the next time to say “hi”*
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 11:02 AM UTC
Every now and then,
I can feel you
Everything's the same,
I can't get through.
You're slowly damaging
Every part of me
I am slowly dying,
Poisoned and unhappy.
Once the day will come when
You will understand
That you're giving me pain
So much that I can't stand.
Just let me go,
I can't deal with that.
I don't need to know.
Stop all that chitchat.
Every day and night,
You hunt my thoughts.
I wish I could fight,
But my heart isn't tough.
Are you going to
Leave me alone ?
There's a mark of you
Deep inside my bones.
You're poison,
Running inside of me.
I need, just for a second,
For you to let me be.
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 12:18 PM UTC
My words always come to that stuttering stop.
Hurts hidden past their dates
don't pop, don't explode, scream
or make a scene. The *** bubbles over
and the hot rivulets swim southbound.
There are never more than two.
Colourless, without sound; inside, the reaction
of heat energy, raising temperature
and changing state. My thoughts evaporate.
Escape.
I regain myself and carry on
the endless day and stagger home to bed
routines don't change, and in my head
I hear your voice and ask you
what are we doing, what is this madness,
why are you doing this to me when I...
I...
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 12:25 PM UTC
*The good news is she's single,
the bad is she's so in love with
Jesus
Her body's an alloy of the Holly spirit and Soil*
*Yet temples are a place I only
go to to have a chitchat with my Lord God
Not to profess my affection.*
**I love her, but I can't compete
with the creator's Son.
I love her, but I love Heaven more.**
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 1:08 PM UTC
I’m addicted to pain
Seems my epiphanius moment
Came a little late in the game
Just the same
What have I to gain
masochistically maintaining
Perpetual pain
Let’s see
I shut out out out everyone
Comforting like rain
Alone with my pain
Only I remain
Wrapped in the insane
Or is it just colorful choosing
Sorrowful musing so amusing
Drowning in pity
So pithy
Doesn’t do it justice
Poor, poor pitiful me
It’s plain to see
Nobody likes me
So I
Cry, cry, cry
Why
I remembered last night
The reason why
You’re going to die
The reason why
Is because
Crying said I with a sigh
always got me what I wanted
what a surprise
Guess, you guessed that
I said a little flat
So I continue to cry
And wonder why
Why isn’t this ******* working
Always worked in the past
And it was such a blast
What a shame
I’m such a crybaby
This is so personal
I think I’ll reversanal
Sounds like a pill
I’ll have two or three
Between you and me
If you know what I mean
My transparency’s my screen
Once I’ve said it
I can forget it
Put it down on paper
And it disappears
Inhaled vapor
Vapor paper
So, if you saw it
Or read it
I’ve already forgotten it
close to the cutting-edge
stretched out on a pledge
allegiance to who be
doobie, doobie do be
I’ll never fall over
That edge that I spoke of
Just a thought that I thought of
I’m no more attached to it
Than I’m attached to you
I know you believe me
Because only you see me
Through all my disguises
My mental gymnastics
Exercises
Only you see me
The lies and the ********
If you want to believe it
Go right ahead
You’ve ignored the warning signs
The tracks converged
And there’s danger up ahead
Only if you believe it
I saw the ending and I saw the beginning
Still can’t tell if I’m losing or winning.
I’m stuck, stuck, stuck
Seems only right that I repeat it
Since you can’t be stuck
If you don’t repeat it
It’s only a game if you think it is
Wishing something extreme
Before I scream
I need a push.
Who the **** am I talking to
Because nobody’s listening
But that doesn’t deter me
I see you before me
You know who you are
Anyone I want you to be
Doesn’t matter if you’re real
Only matters how I feel
You can’t stop me from loving you
Even if you don’t love me
I’ve been so alone
I rather like it like that
No mundane chitchat
******** will **** you
So if that’s what you’re offering
Better stay away
But god
I pray
May that day
Never come
And this is my prayer
That you’re real
Because until then
I can’t feel
Amen.
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 11:50 PM UTC
A bird with a bright plumed tail
Befriended a fish with golden scales
Together they would chitchat late into the night
Of a world under water, and a world in the sky.
In time the bird grew fond of the fish with golden scales
While the fish fell in love with the bird with a bright plumed tail.
“Come share my world!” asked the fish with delight
The bird only said, “Getting wet don’t feel right.”
“Then take me with you,” the fish would implore.
Fond as he was, the bird thought even that a chore.
The bird would fly from tree to tree
While the fish, with him, longed to be.
With other birds he would fly far and wide
And the fish could only watch and cry.
Further and further the bird would fly
Leaving the fish for days at a time.
Denied a world without his friend the fish soon died.
The bird lamenting, “ I could not love him as he did I.”
I hear your sorrow oh bird with the bright plumed tail
Replied an owl awoke by his wail.
He knew you could not live with him in the sea
And he to STAY with you that could not be.
You told him of worlds he wanted to know
And listened while he talked of his home.
And when he needed to have more
You found his pleas so easy to ignore.
The sun and clouds he desired to see
He needed you to just be his wings
The thrill of flight was yours to give
If not your love then just that gift
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 11:19 PM UTC
I have a lot of scattered memories
of me hanging out with you
You are the first person who helped me to open up
and you listened to my views
mostly our talk was inconsequential,
just chitchat between friends
we'd be on the bus or in the park
just talking into the blue
but in those talks
there was something more for me
you showed me I was worthy
not a worthless human being.
It gave my face a brighter smile
and my life a whole new meaning,
I am truly grateful for that short time
that i was friends with you
Mar 18, 2010
Mar 18, 2010 at 8:52 AM UTC
Women kissing each other
on cheeks the friends
meeting for coffee kind
not the passionate
let’s get to bed
and kiss
and indulge kind
but Henry wishes
the women at the coffee bar
were of that kind
just to break the boringness
of the day
just so he can get through
the hour without
the boring chitchat
of others around
on who was doing
what to whom
and who has just had
their kids in the right
kind of school
or whose husband
has made the grade
for body climbing
back stabbing promotion
oh if only
Henry thinks
that the dames
could embrace
and undress
and get down
to the woman to woman thing
right here
in the coffee bar
and he’d promise
he’d not spill a drop
of his latte
or faint
or look away.
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 7:10 AM UTC
My sorrow is not glorious
My pain is not public
sorrow stays in
pain weeps ;
feelings swing
fears mushroom
eyes swell up
vision dims;
tears dry up
thoughts wander
mind clouds
moods mull;
words clutter
heart throbs
vacuum engulfs
silence lingers;
My sorrow is hidden
My pain is private
Its all of love
Its all of parting;
no meeting
no message
no contact
no chitchat;
clock reminds
Dusk recalls
memories surge
heart lumbers;
Heaving seas
twilight afar
nights shimmer
Loneliness bog down !
***********************
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 7:04 AM UTC
I'm talking to you;
Is it because I have to
Or because I want to?
I'm talking to you;
Is it to understand you
Or so I am understood?
I'm talking to you;
Is it that I like you
Or that I don't?
I'm taking to you;
Is it to hear myself
Or to be heard?
Is it solely from the verb
Or by the noun?
In this rhetoric,
Is it mine or ours or yours?
In this dialogue,
Is it gossip, chitchat, or conversation?
By the course of it
Is it chance, choice, or demand?
I'm talking to you
Or I'm talking with you?
Nov 28, 2024
Nov 28, 2024 at 1:42 PM UTC
With the visage of the blue monster,
I’ve cuddled that identity
And smudged it to myself.
This chap in ashen nature,
Has parked himself –
Resting in the right plane.
I was gazing at him,
That look he furnished
Made me probing.
“I have mine stained,”
On my trend, his eyes were fixed;
And there in the chair’s apex,
His hands were zipped.
Only just lately,
I grasp the gist of those words,
Yes, he was pointing to my shirt!
“Oh..” I retorted
And it was a late reaction!
That atmosphere has staggered me!
Someone called his name,
He countered by flights of stroll;
Alright, so that’s the first chitchat!
It was drizzling outside,
I opened my umbrella and stride.
I spotted him,
Him, yes, him! Oh, it’s him!
He became the frontage of that scenery;
With his umbrella on,
I ask over something –
To which I don’t remember at all!
Seeing him made me in high spirit,
There’s an up aura within me,
Oh, again and again.
To that chemise,
I extend my gratitude;
For it was the start of something so new!
To see him once more,
How I wish.. I just wish..
(7/28/13 @xirlleelang)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
Stare at the wall
Stare at the ceiling
Eyes glazed, minds dazed
Trapped in death wearing masks of sadness
Words spewing, flailing arms in less crowded space
Interruptions from the waiter cause obscure comments from the tables speaking guild
Is there a resolution to the conversation?
What is the purpose?
That’s the meaning, the manifesto…”WTF”
Idle chitchat to pass the time with hints and slivers of individual personalities
Plain and simple ***
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
If I was a cat,
I would be orange and fat.
Meow meow,
meow meow.
Purring to some human chitchat.
Instead I am human,
Nothing but a feline fan.
Meow meow,
purr meow.
Be more than one thing, yes you can.
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 4:11 AM UTC
Remembering how beautiful that moment it was back then. While you seemed enthusiastic about your stories. Over and over, I’m falling for you. Staring at your eyes, while you kept on sharing your stories. Hearing your laugh while talking? God, I couldn’t ask for more. And then, the perfect moment and timing happened.
When I saw the lights reflecting in your hazelnut eyes — my heart skipped its beat. How lucky I am to see a perfect creation. You amazed me in every simple ways you do. You, doing nothing. And I know it's weird, super weird.
Then, I became anxious on how I should act like nothing happened. But, I failed on it. Running out of words to say. It was the perfect time for me to say how much you mean to me, scratch that, on how much I am falling in love with you. But I choked with the thought of me expressing myself, because I don’t wanna be rejected. Though I know for sure this feeling ain’t mutual.
I think it's better that I didn't say those words. Because I don't wanna trap you from this messy human I am. I didn't regret meeting you figuratively at the corner of the street. If I could just repeat it, over and over I would find ways for you to notice my nothingness. For I will fall in love, again.
And, here I am. I totally don't know what to say. Or maybe I just couldn't accept the fact that me, being so coward leads me to this ******* moment. Where I’m caught between, wanting you in my life or wanting to forget the memories you’ve shared with me though I couldn’t deny the fact that it hurts me and pains me to think of it. But I guess dear, I’ll always be looking from afar. Thinking every possible ways about the thought of us. Yes, a cliche indeed. But, I’m a human being and in love?
This memory of you may not lead to where it should be. But I want you someday, or in other parallel worlds we might have — you’ll be able to read some parts of this, and a smile coming from your lips would suffice all of this.
I guess, us wasn’t really a love story nor a happy ending. Until then, I’ll meet you somewhere over a coffee and a smoke, then will have a chitchat about how dramatic I was and was head over heels of you.
I will always love you, romantically. And you do love me platonically dear. Good byes are overrated so good night and I’ll sleep this pain off tight.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 2:39 PM UTC
In the conversation you had with your sisters and friends
over coffee and chitchat,
you described me as perfect, a gentleman
adorned with a cloak of eccentricity,
Tagged along by a shadow who has has never been
in the dark or seen anything but the light.
At this time, your accent lifts as you described me.
"Perfect gentlemen don't exist", everyone retorted.
So you go on and on about
this and about that
And this too and that.
Till even the least enthusiastic
Buys a ticket to watch me.
So I perform. I perform. Only this time
I wear no mask on the stage of enticement.
I laugh out loud and carry the bottles.
I sing out loud even when my voice is muffled.
I play along, like a skilled ocarinist.
I blab about life in the slums and the impending economic crunches,
i brag about my dreams and the few nights I don't snore.
In the same conversation I had with myself,
Sitting to a bottle, a moleskin and pen all by myself,
I tell myself how much of me hasn't changed,
How my thoughts never changed
Despite my unkempt beard and bad breath.
I tell myself how the-same I am,
Only this time, I'm wearing a different shirt
stained at the pocket with oil from yesterday's tofu fries.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 5:33 AM UTC