"clamping" poems
You like to say love disappeared.
And I swear it never left, but she talk like Kanye "Ima let you finish"
shrug her shoulders; cut me off, Swift.
Drinks on the table it was no one else's business, Henny in my system there was no one else who witnessed how she never took a breath like a run on sentence so I'm in the club flexing working on my fitness; arms out stretched on my chest crucifixion.
I'm forgiven but could never get a word in not even one syllable I'm talking in synonyms I,
never
ever
nevermore, words with friends. Triple word how absurd you be trippin **** on my Instagram insecurity I'm tired of it I'm with my Boys chillin rarely smoked but might burn a spliff; ease the pain so insane major Payne fatigue is in.
I got a glimpse of future, I use to, try to hit you up reconnect, bluetooth, I'm in her ear lying for the *** I miss you, she on top giving me the truth: this all you. But **** it though I'm not trynna be your man, but when she leaving out for work I be sleepin in
and when she home I tax that *** like I'm Uncle Sam nothing ever change so after head she be at my neck
next
Flashback to the present
--and--
she still telling me how I don't get it
stressed
unproductive in her presence, you not even in front of me I'm still tasting lemons; Yo, my star player wants a trade should I let her go? cut too deep for bandaids should I let it flow.
Throwback to the past vampire clothes but the blood different I'm a sucker for that red though: she was floating 6 inches from the earth floor, you's a victim baby true blood, spoil us! Show Me What You Got lil mama let your "Kingdom Come" dressed in all black spending money black republican? Awesome and some; I was sliding home she was catching, clamping; say I turn her on like a touch screen, Samsung; with a touch of color you would disobey your mother as I slid under your covers
mid-day massages
"Midnight Maunders"
at least that's how it use to be, now Award Tour got her trippin almost frequently
we use to fight for love she said now she a causality!
"and how you gonna make this bout you it's about me, phone ringing since 1am it's about 3
thought you was slick huh,
thought I was sleep, you **** right love disappeared"
but she never leaves.
She's still waiting to exhale, but she never breaths.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
English Teeth, English Teeth!
Shining in the sun
A part of British heritage
Aye, each and every one.
English Teeth, Happy Teeth!
Always having fun
Clamping down on bits of fish
And sausages half done.
English Teeth, HEROES' Teeth!
Hear them click! and clack!
Let's sing a song of praise to them -
Three Cheers for the Brown Grey and Black.
10.2k
I try so hard to scrub him off me.
It has been over four years and I still scream in the night.
The feeling is so suffocating that when I open my lungs, dust puffs out.
All I have left from him is layers over layers over layers of insecurity and fear.
When you ask me if I liked that, I smile and nod and yes yes of course,
But I can’t even feel it anymore.
Sometimes I am so numb by what has happened to me and my protective mechanisms resurface
Blocking every sense of touch and emotion that I have,
Giving you the show that I was taught to give.
The only feeling that remains after we have *** is the feeling of another man’s teeth sinking into my neck,
Clamping down on the blood flow to my brain,
Knocking me out in a much more pleasant way than when he would with his fists.
No matter how raw I scrub myself, his fingerprints and bruises linger.
I love you.
I am trying to forget him.
I am shaking in your arms and it is for all the wrong reasons and it has been a year,
A year into this beautiful life with you and I still don’t think I have told you.
It is not your fault, I know that.
What I don’t know, is if it was mine.
Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 12:50 PM UTC
He is like a virus I wish I never encountered
snuggling under my skin
digging his nails inside my veins
clamping on to my insides
the longer i allow it, the harder it is to remove
i try to scrape out all the residue
but he always grow back
Building a cement house inside my soul
leaving me swollen
congested with anticipation
I can't escape this sickness
The more I regress the more illuminated it gets
It feeds off my sorrow
Slurps up my happiness
And leaves me with nothing
Just a body with cold blood inside
I like it better this way
I rather feel nothing instead of this
You love me?
I am tortured by you.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
I dance in circles holding
the moth of the marriage,
thin, sticky, fluttering
its skirts, its webs.
The moth oozing a tear,
or is it a drop of *****
The moth, grinning like a pear,
or is it teeth
clamping the iron maiden shut?
The moth,
who is my mother,
who is my father,
who was my lover,
floats airily out of my hands
and I dance slower,
pulling off the fat diamond engagement ring,
pulling off the elopement wedding ring,
and holding them, clicking them
in thumb and forefinger,
the indent of twenty-five years,
like a tiny rip of a tiny earthquake.
Underneath the soil lies the violence,
the shift, the crack of continents,
the anger,
and above only a cut,
a half-inch space to stick a pencil in.
The finger is scared
but it keeps its long numb place.
And I keep dancing,
a sort of waltz,
clicking the two rings,
all of a life at its last cough,
as I swim through the air of the kitchen,
and the same radio plays its songs
and I make a small path through them
with my bare finger and my funny feet,
doing the undoing dance,
on April 14th, 1973,
letting my history rip itself off me
and stepping into
something unknown
and transparent,
but all ten fingers stretched outward,
flesh extended as metal
waiting for a magnet.
1.8k
Grasping vagrancy in one's child
Most simplistic act is not
Fractured maternal heart bleeds wild
Suffered soul the abyss caught
Crucible ever prevails fraught
Futile remedy ailment breeds
Posturing all heedless things
Neglecting primal earthly needs
Harsh inebriant trappings
Averse entirely lucid pleads
Clamping malady straining chest
Wakeful blackness vanished days
Clutched slight suckling babe at my breast
Cast tears enduring malaise
Reflection of having caressed
Tragic sustinence chosen vile
Sighted resolves not to see
Relentless self imposed exile
Indifferent to love me
Offer life to capture a smile
Grasping vagrancy in one's child
Cognizant of special spot
An alternative to beguiled
Alter processes of thought
I am needing to know she fought
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
If you hear growls in the middle of the night
Don't be alarmed
Go back to bed, she's alright
It's just her imagination
It's all pretend
Bones aching
Muscles twitching
Her temperature is rising
She screams
But no sound comes out of her mouth
Clamping on to her pillow
For dear life
She's going through living hell
But no one knew it
Because no one was there
She let out soft moans
Whimpering on her bed
Drenched in sweat
Gritting her teeth
Trying to pull through
Her body itched
For what she couldn't have
She bit the inside of her cheek
Til she tasted blood
Then bit down harder
Hours of restless twisting and turning
Unsettled stomach
When will this end?
When will this end?
When will
This
End
Will this end?
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
Shut your ******* mouth
And help me super-glue
this flap of skin back to my face
Lock the door.
(Microchips & Grind-gears coo
Behind that rubbery facade
An Android god
A Hissing machinery zoo in there
Clamping hydraulics; what a scare)
Hurry!
No one can see this -
It's not even ****** for Pete's sake
It doesn't get better
There was nothing wrong
To begin with.
I am perfect, remember?
Wink wink
But really,
How long until this glue dries?
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 3:31 PM UTC
I read a chapter on beating-heart cadavers
how they lay looking alive
chest rising, blood pumping
but brain not functioning
I started to cry
because once upon a time
you were a beating-heart cadaver
and now I know what comes after
how they probably slit you
from below the belly button
to just under the Adam's apple
practically unzipped you
then systematically took out organs
cutting arteries, clamping things
all the while your face
calmly looking asleep or maybe
hidden under a shroud
despite the initial stomach drop
I realized I couldn't have been
more proud of you
I couldn't have been
any more
proud
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
On my right;
A pair of girls with trendy leather messenger bags
Permanently glued to their shoulders
That holds no namesakes
On my left;
One ex-best friend,
One once-friend-but-now-an-enemy,
And a third who hates by association
Navy drips from the spot directly above my head
And slides, and spreads,
And covers the teal along the edges of evening
*My jaw is ground shut with the tension,
The weight of the hatred
Clamping my teeth to each other
Pulling the muscles with their ties
That are beyond invisible*
I’m alone, as always –
No emo intended.
Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 10:53 PM UTC
rivers of salt; saccharine silicon and
iridescent nightmares;
kids carve their names into trees
because their concept of forever is
three summers forward;
entropy demands a tithe, a
forfeiture of lives; decimate your herds
and still
no, it is not enough.
know it is not enough.
don't keep your sweet little mouth
open too long; sugar attracts flies,
and pretty soon your
teeth will be teeming
with maggots and rot,
streptococcus sanguis
cheerfully wearing down your enamel
like you wore down my inhibitions.
"it'll be fun," you said, dropping
one hundred milligrams
on your tongue, firmly grasping the back
of my neck, and applying your lips to mine.
one hundred milligrams
slide down my throat, and despite myself,
I laugh, because even when I'm scared
I want to be with you.
the Black Angel is God On Earth; she is
lonely beyond belief, and I give her a hug.
people forget that monsters have
feelings too, and
God?
God is the biggest monster of them all.
God is entropy, and she is
unimpressed by the pyramids
on your dollar bills; she will devour
the stars and the planets and newborn
babies swaddled in blankets,
and she yet hungers:
redwoods and sequoias and aloe vera,
microchips and inkjets and MacBooks.
we are crowded around the bonfire,
s'mores and cheap liquor, your hand on
my thigh; the heavens have
opened up, drenching us
in starlight: I have never felt more
beautiful. you raise my wrist to your
mouth, placing a gentle kiss on my
scaphoid and my lunate; you swipe
your tongue across supple flesh
before clamping down with your teeth;
I am seeing stars and feeling lovely
and I am so, so enamored with you and
so, so happy you are here.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 4:15 PM UTC
my mom thinks it’s a hickey on my neck
and i’d rather her think that
than know it’s from your fingers
clamping my throat shut
with rage
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
I have this horrible habit of not feeling my feelings
I don't know if its because I'm scared or if I even do feel
Maybe in the moment I don't; feel
Maybe those emotions just throw themselves into the ever spinning ball of feelings swirling in the catacombs of my mind
And they just sit and fester
Maybe all this is true:
But where do they go, you ask.
Well its a damning thing it is
That one small, tinny, most insignificant event can release months worth of anger, despair, and fear and hate
The tiniest thing can unveil the truth
The curtains which hides my eyes lifts for maybe one moment
But I already see it and I begin to cry
Because what I see, I don't like
What I see, I hate
So I sit here clamping my teeth so hard they might shatter
Holding my breath so in my throat sobs gather
Worthless tears that don't even matter
I threaten myself, I threaten, my heart
I threaten I'll beat me until my skin parts
Yet, nothing will happen
I'll probably forget the one day that I felt
And I'm ashamed to tell you why
Because what I do is wrong:
I just walk away
I make no changes
I once again feel no more
Why?
Because I'm scared out of my ******* mind
I'm scared, and I can't tell anyone
Because if I do its real
And if its real
Then I'm ******
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 4:56 PM UTC
In dreams I see her blonde hair
always in a pony tail
She walks along the shoreline
Scouring the sand for treasure
Light blue shorts and a striped shirt
She quietly wends her way
Bare feet in and out of foam
In her hands, she holds small shells
Delicate and colorful
Orange, pink, yellow and white
These were wampum long ago
Gone now, all gone from this shore
But there she is, eight years old
Golden, tanned, happy alone
Treasures, wampum in her hand
She slips them in her pocket
Stepping into the water
She sees something moving there
A scallop! So carefully,
She reaches down patiently
Leads it with her hand until
The live mollusk slips right in
Clamping shut as she lifts it
It is beautiful, alive.
She knows they have many eyes
A bright blue like no other
If opened, they look like eggs
Cracked, sunny side up inside
Return it to the water
Watching for the many eyes
It hesitates, then opens
Jets away, ever backward
She lifts her face to the sun
One must notice those blue eyes
Then they cloud, time is short now
Soon the sun will leave the sky.
She runs for her red bucket
Half fills it with salt water
The water to her ankles,
She twists her feet, digs up clams
Chowders and some Cherrystones
Digging clams with little toes
Fills the bucket, off she goes.
Wednesday’s child is full of woes.
© Lin Cava 29-August-2008
I grew up on an island. Clams and scallops, ***** and flounder were plentiful and available for the taking. No one took more than they could eat. I had bay fishermen in the family – and they earned their living from the bounty of the waters around us. This poem is about a girl growing up in just such a place. Children this age are often not left to themselves. She thrives in solitude, happiest there. Notice there is no running or jumping or laughter. This is meant to be a somber work. The child knows that she is older than her years, yet she takes her happiness in those simple things that children do. So might we all be awestruck at the beauty of shells, the feeling of a living creature with its own beauty, in our hands. If only we could take the time. In whatever life holds for her, the girl takes her childhood in whatever way she can. Gazing over the water, whether it is the ocean, the bay or a lake, she often sees a woman there, a projection from within. I often see the child in my work. I am a Wednesday Child.
Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 4:10 PM UTC
My flesh is inflamed, frenzied, and moist
A fervent appetite for you scorching inside
Our lips fasten as I ****** your mouth
Your hands are greedy and anxious
My fingers trace and roll on your face
Suckling your neck as I worship you
Your seductive eyes glistening
Inviting lips pouty and full
Curvaceous and refined, I touch your milky skin
I want to flow into you
My ******* become firm as you pinch and feast
Glistening from your taste
Peeling back my needs
As your tongue spirals around my heat
Hips rotating and lifting
Clamping unto you as you tease
A tide ruptures in the middle of me
Provoking lascivious thoughts
Whimpers escape gripping you
Your majestic body flushed
As your inviting lips kiss my womanhood
A unity for our intimacy
Your virility entering inside my mouth
Taunting as you pull me near
I savor your flesh as you thrive
Filling the center of me
Your rising inside my passage melting inside
The dampness from our devotion
Interweaves you into me
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
God I wish Narcane worked on you
Cuz I’m dying to get a breath without you clamping down on my chest
Feb 29, 2024
Feb 29, 2024 at 7:21 AM UTC
on scheduless days of stifling heat
when orderless ranks of canines beat
up the backroad and down the street
into the wood and onto the steep
a glorious arbor among thankless trees
"forever" says the whispering breeze
never mind the never-stop bees
the nimble squirrel is playing freeze
if ever there were a guest-
a sitting stone
but never a guest in this place
my place alone
drenched inside the thicket
a thousand thorny dreams
closing in on me
clamping down on me
altogether surrounding me
as home begins its beckoning
I reason it's a reckoning
I reckon there's a reason
for everything
skyward a fleeting glimpse
of a foregone future forlorn
shatters like a shadow
that a light shines upon
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 8:21 AM UTC
The sun is trying to shine
to break through the dark day clouds
It's trying
Trying
Trying to strive
Yet those dark clouds keep clamping it down
Shine on bright one
You will win I know
Stronger than the world you are
Stronger than those clouds
It takes some time
sometimes
for they are oh so many
and you are just one lonely one
but, if you keep on shinning
You will overcome
And, if they hold you down
with the tears of their rain
Remember with your sunshine
a rainbow you can make....
Beautiful in color
a symbol of hope
symbol
hope
Just enough to light a path
light it
light the way to cope
Apr 7, 2011
Apr 7, 2011 at 3:29 AM UTC
***Steamy ink boiled over
the kettle of opportunistic metaphors
poison'd doses in gray's gangrene slur,
don't attempt to sleep in my mouth
like a w***e in head, the sword in bed
taboo artistes in monotonic ambivalent jaws
clamping down without remorse
chomp'd away at an asunder analogy
piss'd in my jeans and expect'd to get fed
spit it out on the polar opposite cafe floor
unicorns dwellings of butter'd blessings
broken bread & barely berry wine of Monet's encores
bite the ear that fed you preaching van Gogh
perhaps they'll listen for insanity to be set free
confining rules taught us naught to stutter
pay your monopoly dues in bleakest sermons
pass the bucket of superiority's conquests
bled of analgesic ego's epic divided faction's fiction
don't forget to wipe your shadow on the way out***
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 9:20 AM UTC
She's got
Too many strings
Tangled, cannot tell
Where they lead
She's pulled
This way and that way
Some play the puppeteer
Controlling her emotions
Decisions; her fears and desires;
She reached out
For something to cut with,
I caught her hand
And she grabbed a hold,
But her baggage
Was heavy with many things,
She couldn't
Get a foot hold to be freed,
What she hid away
I cannot say
As I tried
To get behind the dark veneer
Hiding her past;
Limiting my options
Trying to sort through
The signals and wires
Revealing only more
A mystery more a myth
Like an investigator
Following a lead gone cold;
My grip slipping
I questioned my resolve
To let go
Or give her time to evolve
From a defenseless bloom;
To a thorned rose
Out of the gloom
Destined to be
Her own operator
Clamping the brakes
On her free falling elevator...
© okpoet
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
those who have vanished those gone up the spout
the scarperers last season's best reaping
were our last bulwark against fear or doubt
so total silence follows on the shout
clamping down hard on laughter and weeping
those who have vanished those gone up the spout
in teaching us just what to do without
and what exactly is worth safe-keeping
were our last bulwark against fear or doubt
but since they're gone we lack all redoubt
no place to which we can hurry creeping
those who have vanished those gone up the spout
simply precede us on the journey out
message and method both so sweeping
were our last bulwark against fear or doubt
now in the midst of this inhuman drought
we fade into the darkness while sleeping
those who have vanished those gone up the spout
were our last bulwark against fear or doubt
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 9:57 AM UTC
Some information will span longer than conceived time
something I whisper into her ear could never be heard again
the hush of my breath breezing past your hair will never happen again
the slight tick you make to stop a sneeze those will be the sounds of forever
the tick of each hand of fate will be a reminder of your ill attempts to prevent nature from happening
those frost bitten mornings, where the only word spoken is "coco?" and the response some soft grumbles
the unsmoothed surface of my pale blue coffee table will always remind me of your unsmoothed lips
those lips that are forever marked from your inability to stop clamping onto them with those semi-whites of yours
this treasure trove of memories will not glisten to the unique beauty of gold, but the dried blood colour of rust
That reminds me the blood stains from our youthful pass probably should be swapped out for new linens
my hands will remind me of their ability to form around your body
creating semi-shackles between the thumb and pointer of either hand
my past coated with rust, those forevers perceived as forever take part in never again
my pale blue coffee table is now bright orange and my memories now glisten gold
I once again whisper into her ear and the hush of my breath breezes past her hair
she as well makes the ticks to prevent nature from happening
all that has changed is her name
and that those frost bitten mornings are now, Sunny afternoons, of lemon honey green tea and soft grumbles
in reply
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 11:31 PM UTC
I don’t need you,
last time I checked,
there were two lungs
in my thoracic cavity,
a heart that pumps fluid
at 2.13 psig,
eyes that guide fingers
with forks to my mouth,
and feet that parked me
in front of the food
in the first place…
…So I started popping
one of your lungs—with that fork—
so I could help you breath,
clamping arteries
and ventricles, poking out
an eye and cutting off
your feet, but
that’s a lot of work
breathing, pumping,
seeing and walking
for two.
You know what,
I’m gonna go try the dip.
Mar 25, 2011
Mar 25, 2011 at 4:55 PM UTC
Just a little kiss he said
His draped arm around her shoulders squeezed , shlumping in towards her.
I don't know.....she said.
Her innocent wide eyes and tightly curled hair were frightened.
Come on, don't be a ***** he said,
eyes droopy, voice smelling condescending and aroused.
He tasted his lips before flashing his teeth.
Strong fingers locked into her pristinely wound tendrils
shoving a resisting skull towards his probing lips.
She tensed, squealed, tried to turn away
but he only pulled her closer like quick sand, or an anaconda.
His hand immediately rounded second base, clamping onto her tender ******* like a bear trap
before kneading them and moving to the hem of her blue dress.
She muffled a scream into his mouth, but the black hole just absorbed and incinerated the sound.
His hand travelled up her knee, to her thigh
which was soft, and clean.
He thought they probably smelled like Ivory soap and angel laughs.
The further north his hand travelled, the higher pitched the squeals became.
He wanted to experiment how far he needed to move until her voice became audible only to dogs.
He smiled into her cheek
he was a glorious, powerful tiger and she was an unassuming gazelle with a limp.
Really, he was doing her a favor
ending her misery before someone less humane devoured her tragic beauty.
He bit her neck, rendering her paralyzed
with fear.
Come on, don't be such a ***** he said,
Nobody likes a *****
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 5:44 PM UTC
Leaving me be,
Air finally reaches my lungs.
No more waiting and wondering
Where you’ve been or where you’re going.
With newfound air in these tired lungs
I can out run those long-clinging fears.
Your name is no longer engraved
On the vice clamping my heart shut.
Hope for new love, new adventures,
Has melted the lock on the door,
And I’m tripping over untied shoelaces
In my haste to escape the prison that was my life.
Farewell, black and white.
Here comes the sun.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC