"clashed" poems
My frail glass bones shattered with the windows.
We walk on yellow striped tightropes and dance
with impossibility until his grasp becomes to tight.
I fell into a river of metal droplets wheels rolling as
Mr. Impossibility connected two infinities.
Glass fingers tapped on a glowing glass screen.
Metal clashed, my scream was lost with sirens into a
echo of blue and red lights.
There was a silence that pulled me into the casket that
sat open in the passenger seat.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 9:58 PM UTC
Something about the woven leather
Reminds me of sandals you once wore,
In the garden enjoying the sun.
Your shorts and that old cotton vest
the one that was probably once white,
but Nanny wasn't around to do your whites anymore,
and so it grew greyer as your hair grew whiter.
The sun's rays danced through the waves of your hair
and into the garden,
Filling it with light, shining down upon plastic flowers planted among coloured stones.
Smells of stale cakes from bargain stalls and the sugar from flat lemonade in murky cups wafted out the back door and clashed with that overpowering cooking smell as you sat in your sun lounger and baked yourself in vegetable oil, cooking your Irish skin to a crisp!
The flower patterns of your walls in the garden and cast iron patio furniture,
The plastic mat that covered the carpet and always managed to trip us,
The halogen heater in the parlour and blanket on your knees,
The clumps of bullseye sweets in your locker and Quality Street tin of empty wrappers,
The damp and stale smells of the kitchen in your care,
The holy pictures and moving Jesus on the stairs,
The bath marbles we loved to play with and how they'd smash upon collision,
And the pink, silk quilt that enveloped your bed,
They're all pieces in the mosaic that illustrates your memory now and they'll never be broken.
I've glued them so tightly together it's as strong as your jaw!
Your jaw, always known to make eyes water when you'd turn during a goodbye kiss on your cheek and crush our noses! Even when we tried to approach with caution! But oh what anyone of us wouldn't give to feel that again, just to say goodbye and think we'd be over to the Bluebell to see you again.
So now I sit and look at the woven leather on my sandals and remember all the details, all the memories that are woven together to make you. Sometimes I wish I could click the heels together.
Bluebell
Bluebell
Bluebell
And be back in that garden, once more.
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 5:41 AM UTC
So long ago was the rebellion
when shield and sword clashed
how mighty those battles
far, far from our homes
All were once the same
till he shot his big mouth off
and a division was made
we knew then this was rebellion
Brother and brother locked in combat
sister and sister fighting to ones defeat
never should this battle of taken place
all because of jealousy of the human race
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris
© 2011 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 9:30 AM UTC
I felt the sun dip down
As the moon arose
And every pale streak
Of orange purple and pink hues
Clashed through my skin
And danced in my sins
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 8:53 PM UTC
her churiyan clashed
submerging in the red, orange and green
of her sharara
as she spun round and round
a blur of striking colors
her laughing face hidden
among those of her cousins
as they danced in a circle
each girl wearing colors of the rainbow
smiles like the sun brightening their faces
their bare feet decorated with mehndi
as they spun on their toes
letting their hair follow them like velvet curtains
the pitter patter of their restless feet
becoming one with the music around them
the elders of the family
throwing rose petals and clapping
watching the new generation
bless the married couple
with laughter, colors & life
the girl with curls in her hair
pulling down the bride-to-be
off the stage and onto the dance floor
her fiancé nudging her and watching his future
twirl with the young girls
as families became from two to one
he looked upon his love with eyes full of wonder
as she pushed back her dark hair and hid her face
refusing to dance
but even the blushing bride couldn't stop the girls
from convincing her to join them
they took her by the hands
and let the music guide them as they threw their arms in the air
swaying to songs about boundless ishq
and the stars which shine upon those who fall in the arms of endless love
the bride's red gharara shimmering under the lights
complimenting the red in her cheeks
the sparkle in her teeka bright
but never brighter than the twinkle in her euphoric eyes
her mother teared watching her baby all grown up
and her father looked at her as his success
seeing his only daughter so full of joy
others onlooked
as the girls embraced their youth
and with the bride created a circle of joy
for that moment,
the love was shared between them all
they forgot all about their heartbreaks
and the everlasting love which never lasted
they forgot all about the boys with pretty eyes and even prettier lies
as they rejoiced over the love of their loved ones
with a little inch of hope in their own hearts
that someday someone would look at them
as the smiling groom did the stunning bride
*passion. surety. serenity.
pyaar*
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 9:55 AM UTC
Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Now the name of the little black kitten was Ink,
And the little gray mouse, she called her Blink,
And the little yellow dog was sharp as Mustard,
But the dragon was a coward, and she called him Custard.
Custard the dragon had big sharp teeth,
And spikes on top of him and scales underneath,
Mouth like a fireplace, chimney for a nose,
And realio, trulio, daggers on his toes.
Belinda was as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chased lions down the stairs,
Mustard was as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Belinda tickled him, she tickled him unmerciful,
Ink, Blink and Mustard, they rudely called him Percival,
They all sat laughing in the little red wagon
At the realio, trulio, cowardly dragon.
Belinda giggled till she shook the house,
And Blink said Week! , which is giggling for a mouse,
Ink and Mustard rudely asked his age,
When Custard cried for a nice safe cage.
Suddenly, suddenly they heard a nasty sound,
And Mustard growled, and they all looked around.
Meowch! cried Ink, and Ooh! cried Belinda,
For there was a pirate, climbing in the winda.
Pistol in his left hand, pistol in his right,
And he held in his teeth a cutlass bright,
His beard was black, one leg was wood;
It was clear that the pirate meant no good.
Belinda paled, and she cried, Help! Help!
But Mustard fled with a terrified yelp,
Ink trickled down to the bottom of the household,
And little mouse Blink strategically mouseholed.
But up jumped Custard, snorting like an engine,
Clashed his tail like irons in a dungeon,
With a clatter and a clank and a jangling squirm
He went at the pirate like a robin at a worm.
The pirate gaped at Belinda's dragon,
And gulped some grog from his pocket flagon,
He fired two bullets but they didn't hit,
And Custard gobbled him, every bit.
Belinda embraced him, Mustard licked him,
No one mourned for his pirate victim
Ink and Blink in glee did gyrate
Around the dragon that ate the pyrate.
But presently up spoke little dog Mustard,
I'd been twice as brave if I hadn't been flustered.
And up spoke Ink and up spoke Blink,
We'd have been three times as brave, we think,
And Custard said, I quite agree
That everybody is braver than me.
Belinda still lives in her little white house,
With her little black kitten and her little gray mouse,
And her little yellow dog and her little red wagon,
And her realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
Belinda is as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chase lions down the stairs,
Mustard is as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard keeps crying for a nice safe cage.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
As Dusk Slowly Grasped The Day In Cold Hands,
Blue Birds Snuggled Into Their Nests Of Soft Hay,
Clouds Rolled In--Tucking In The Frosted Lands,
Ducking Into Sleep Fragile Flowers Waited To Play,
Eager For The Day Robins Closed Their Tired Eyes,
Ferns Sway In A Befuddled Wind--It's Mind Whirling,
Gregarious Crickets Shake Away Their Frosty Ties,
Homesick Linnets Wings Spread--Elegantly Swirling,
Illuminating The Night Sat The Paled Lonely Moon,
Jubilant It Is Though, Upon It's View From The Sky,
Kissable Caterpillars Lounge In Their Cocoons,
Lost In Sleep They Dream Of The Clouds So High,
Mother's Of The Nocturnal World Lead Their Young,
Northward To Play In Wheat Filled Prairies,
Organic Love Loomed Where The Branches Hung,
Promenading Inside A Wind Smelling Like Berries,
Quietly The First Few Drops Of Rain Fell,
Ricocheting Off Of Budding Leaves,
Sweet Mother Earth Caught Everything In Her Spell,
Tonight A Sacred Lullaby Is Whispered By The Trees As,
Untamed Ligtning Struck The Frozen Ground,
Vibrating The Sky Thunder Crashed,
Water Swam Through The Air Creating No Sound,
Xenon and Nitrogen Screamed While They Clashed,
Yet No Gentle Creature Was Awakened--Grasping
ZZzz's Under The Year's First Shower
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
Zoe was always a nymphic
creature
God gifted prodigy
When she was three
she already knew that
above her ecliptics
jade eyes were shaped
as a gift to see within her strange
Zephyr's soul
there were
worlds unreachable
to mortals
indulging
unconscious dance moves
she was performing
a play
finding her way through
piercing sounds of animality and natural wilderness
solely within her mind's eyes
then shut
deliberately
just to prove to the thick jungle
to highly flowering sunflowers
that her head locomotions are fully perceptive
her tiny hands touched the ground
glistening streams of her hair had been long(ing) to touch
her tiny bare heels in pace with every
bonvivant
little step forth
she had been taken
O, Zoe you knew at three
That Zenith is the chosen point
to open up
top portals
of deepest insight
Zoe - there is a moving star
lit to praise
returning to innoccence
Olympic
sensible
smiling
sweetheart
intuitive little one
You could hear cracks and tremblings of every limb to limb
clashed
with dark humid soil and stones and crumbs on every ant trail
every black beetle's step there every futuristic peregreen wizzy wings
Zing(ed)
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 1:15 PM UTC
When the first sweet scent of summertime,
sifted through the sea-salt scented air,
so many things and everything
were bright, light and happy-go-fair,
the Summer Life with you was finally here.
As soon as our bare feet hit the wood bridge,
running from the road up over the dunes,
great grey seagulls squawked, dove and swoon,
we held hands together, one and one
made two,
dash-dancing across the shiny sand with you,
dressed and undressed in our Summer Life moods.
Colours like pinwheels spun like yarn,
flashed and clashed bright orange to blue,
you danced and giggled like a loon,
pulled me up and so close, so close
to you,
that I had to dance, I had to dance like a loon,
I just had to laugh and dance and laugh along with you.
How we played, we frolicked beneath the beachy sun,
belly-surfed upon the waves just for funny fun,
flicked flecks of sand from our sticky picnic lunch,
shared swigs from a big blue thermos jug
of fruity-fruit yummy punch,
sharing and caring beneath the Summer Life's sun.
By evening-tide the air grew cool,
you called me 'lover,' I called you 'fool'
-with a big ol' blanket draped over our shoulders,
we kissed and cuddled, growing much bolder,
falling flat back
upon the mighty mattress of sand,
feeling the mists of the waves licking our hands,
as the Man-In-The-Moon arose and shone,
to dance and laugh with us on the Summer Life's throne.
Aug 8, 2010
Aug 8, 2010 at 1:46 AM UTC
It felt as though the humidity itself
carried a hint of liquor as we walked
out into the night, wanting only to escape
our lives for a little.
Deep down in Vieux Carre
twisted brass clashed with a piano
running half step from the crowded clubs
on Frenchman Street.
We filled our lungs with the city
and found her to be like certain kinds
of dangerous doses--
intoxicating.
It was our second night
and the more we drank
the more I began to see glimpses
of the specters spoken of by locals.
They linger in my peripheral,
watching me with their sunken eyes.
You could faintly hear them moan,
only in defeated tones
and their collective scowl danced
in the heavy air of summer
as though it were a part from
all that jazz.
In the stranger hours of morn
I was approached by a ghost
a few blocks off Bourbon.
He offered up nothing but his ***** palms
in hopes of some false salvation.
I wrestled a dollar from my pocket
and passed it on to him,
only to watch him fruitlessly grasp at it
before it slide through his ghostly hands
to the floor below.
He looked down at the dollar
all helpless-like and he said
"It’s been slipping through my fingers
like dat for years now
and ain't nobody help’n me."
I walked from him, realizing then
why I had needed this trip,
I needed to remember all the love in my life
because the only difference between
me and the ghosts of N'awlins
was someone cared about me,
and I cared enough about them
not to destroy myself.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 2:06 PM UTC
the church used my burning soul to light the candles for every service / my innocence floated away with the smoke from the censer / the past and present clashed like cymbals / and it hurt my ears.
time ran down the slippery slope of the hourglass / my vocal cords struggled to come together / oxygen left the air / and my flame was nearly extinguished.
so no / I will not give a cent / because I was the donation shared amongst everyone else / even as I burned.
no more.
Apr 16, 2022
Apr 16, 2022 at 7:16 PM UTC
trapped in my slumber
our lips met, fool.
mouth clashed
perfectly to each other
like
matching puzzle pieces
but it was just
a mere
dream
such a
daunting scene
of a stranger's lips
i crave to find in reality.
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 7:50 AM UTC
Like colors on a wheel
We compliment each other
We're complete opposites
Bringing out the best in each other
So rough around the edges
With a smooth consistency
Mixed with some clashed feelings
And a fine tuned delicacy
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 5:16 AM UTC
When you touch me
My body screams with pleasure
Your eyes boring into mine
legs intertwined
Ive never felt like this
Gentle kisses
Hugging me tight as our hips clashed
and the **** cuddles
So easy to mistake my feelings after *** for love
Science says it is love
So many hormones released
And before you know it
You're infatuated.
I don't know you
But what I do know
I love
and it KILLS ME
Dear Boof Man,
You will never read this
But I love you in a way...
And im sure you dont love me back.
I dont expect you to.
Weve known each other-
-what?-
27 days
6 hook ups
100's kisses
1000's of words spoken between us
But you live over 300 miles away
We've meet in college
And what are labels really?
Promises that we can be what i want without the names.
It felt like a match made in heaven
We were raised the same
Knowing lifes games
How to play them
When to quit
So why Boof Man, why did we play this one?
and why is it not over
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 1:19 AM UTC
Letters come & go.
Messages from home: love lost.
Jefferson Davis
& “Honest” Abe Lincoln’s war…
…nothing more than flexing strength.
The sun rises up
above the barren Culp’s Hill
as Ewell kept them
back, & Jackson’s wishes were
lost on Cemetery Hill.
Gettysburg was filled
with mudpits, puddlepits, shitpits
& every kind of
pit. Not any kind that they
wished to see as guns moved up.
The barrage of shells
from the artillery was
never ending, not
unlike this cursed war, all
while brothers & sons were lost.
The second day came
with no signs of stopping, he
packed his gear, grabbed his
rifle, & marched out to the
sound of Charon’s ferrying.
The medic rushes
out onto the battlefield
hesitating not.
His crude instruments flailing
about in his pack, he works.
Medicine, horror,
they were synonyms to him
as he braced the man;
scraping against flesh, he screamed.
This Civil War--hell on Earth.
Sawing off a leg
was much harder than once thought,
the medic then knew.
In the thick of battle, screams
drowned out screams, & drowned out screams.
Bullets whizzed by him
as he cleaned up his patient.
Or was it victim?
These days it all seemed the same:
North, South, free, slave, dead, living.
What once was blue ‘n gray
was now brown & black & red.
Explosions tore up
the land around him as he
cleared his vision & finished.
Out of the brush, fear
overtook the medic as
a man in blue clashed
with a man in gray; blood ‘n sweat
drenched both as life was on balance.
The medic was stunned
& failed to bring himself to
act at first. He shook
himself awake, & grabbed his
knife, & leapt into the fray.
His knife plunged precise
into the blue man’s heart. No
soldier, but knew his
stuff. The gray man thanked him, &
the South fought another day.
All for naught, for on
that third day, Lee ran with his
tail betwixt his legs
all the way to Virginia.
Two years later, all for naught.
July fourth, eighteen
sixty-three, no cheers, no love,
no wins for us folk.
Only them **** Yanks get their love
from home: letters come & go.
Sherman’s March left him
quaking in his boots; gone was
his love. Gone was his
home. Gone were his letters. All
of it gone. Gone with the wind.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 2:10 PM UTC
The Elders of the Elven Mists, at the Death of the Old Queen
From all around the Realm they came a Conclave to convene
The fair haired Golden Locks of young Azky they did Crown
Queen Azky Rode a Royal Beast of All Dragons he was King
The Queens Beast Yaz Kere Loved Soaring About on Wing
Yaz Kere knew it was his Royal fate to Protect Queen Azky
And Carry her aloft his Back Steadfast so Her Elf Arrows Fly
The Dragons lived in Erehwon upon the Chrysenal Trees
The Elves harvested the Leaves for Enchanted Wizardry
Much Magic came from those Potions as Magical Notions
To protect both Elf and Beast in Battle against enemy Hovens
The Mordel slipped in by night to Steal the Magic Leaves
but Yaz roared Alarm to dragons as swords Pulled from Sheaths
Queen Azky, Quiver, Elven Bow and Yaz Off to the Sky they go
Blades clashed and Arrows Flew as Dragons passed above the war
As Elven arrows hit thier Mark, hordes weakened to rearward
The Mordel tried but Only failed and thus ends the Battles Tale
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 6:20 AM UTC
Listening to your heartbeat like it's a story that'll never be told again
listening to your heartbeat like it's the first edition vinyl
of my favourite song
and the only copy ever made
listening to your heartbeat
like the universe is sending me a message
through the whistles of the wind
listening to your heartbeat like science is trying to contact me
via the thuds of your *****
and justify the inexplicable
of how two astronomically unidentifiable catastrophes
clashed and become one planet
in a galaxy surrrounded by false stars
that actually turned out to be passing planes
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:51 PM UTC
Rabbit, Rabbit, worn and weary at my parlor door
Come inside, sit by the fire, we’ll let tea spirits pour
They listen as we sip, they’ve never heard a rabbit howl.
But you’ve loved a wolf, and the wolf loved you
A rabbit who was on the prowl
Your lover wore the beast they made, of comets, dirt and fur
You drove fast cars
You fell through stars
You think it would all become a blur
Oh the places you two ran, the places you two crashed
A rabbit who danced through constellations
You two birthed solar systems when you clashed
You tell me of what you saw, the gods and their creations
The secrets that you made together, the heights you did ascend
And how this journey came and went to find its timely end
Because you lived an urban fantasy, in a world like a dream
Fantastic creatures in it teemed
Fantastic deeds and fantastic feats
Fantastic, eerie, dark lit streets.
For all its wonder, much like your lover,
It had as many teeth
And this is where a rabbit learned to growl
Grew sharp claws to disembowel
And on each other you left your marks
Be it lovely or be it ******
Both felt trepidation at the threat of sparks
So Howl, rabbit, who offered up your beating heart
Howl rabbit, who loved the prowling bard!
Tell your stories, weep into your cup
Nostalgia rocks you in her arms
Howl at those old once blazed skies
Howl about all of those pretty lies
Howl, divine heart break of harsh goodbyes
A thousand suns set on that day
The dream is done, or so you say
The things you crave, the things you made
These things you’ve done will never fade
The fauns of man have made their war
In the ballad of a love that is no more...
But you’re not a rabbit, and they weren’t a wolf
This was not a dream
I was there, and it was despair,
The story wasn’t as pretty as you made it seem
I’m glad it’s done, that you’re both free
I hope you did enjoy the tea
But make no mistake, I know your habit
They weren’t a wolf, and you’re not a rabbit
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 12:24 AM UTC
Closing my eyes
I drift off to sleep
Restless
Unbridled thoughts
Cloud my mind
I walk among
Sakura trees
Thier bases glowing
With kanjis barriers
To ward off evil
But something is off.
The petals are wilted
The grass around is brown
Instead of green and alive
As I make my way among them
I hear the flutter of wings
Not to sure what to expect
I climb one of the trees
At the highest point
I see two figures
One white winged
The other black
They seem to be circling
Around something or someone
I climb down
Venturing forth
Cautiously
Not understanding why
Are they here for me?
Why in my safe haven?
The closer I got
The more I saw
Between the two
Layed a body
Hovering just above the ground
Raven black hair
Hung as a halo
Underneath her cold
Deathlike skin.
She layed there
In a soft white
Satin gown
As if in an eternal slumber.
The two fighters
Commensed the attack
On each other
As I watched
The body began to glow.
A bright white energy
Followed by a black energy
I realized then
They were fighting for her.
I came close to the body
As I looked at her face
I froze
My whole body went cold.
I was looking at myself
What *** going on?
As I looked at the two angels
My eyes widened in horror
What was so special about me?
I tried to wake myself up
I shook my body
As they fought
And the ground beneath me
Shook violently.
I screamed
As the swords clashed
I shielded my body
As the final few blows
Were delivered
As the ground rumbled
Opening my eyes
I look down
My body was still glowing
Only white
Accompanied by a red light
From the chest.
He picked up my body
And cradled it close
As he did
White wings formed
On the back
As she opened her eyes
She smiled at me
As she opened her wings
Embracing me
She whispered something in my ear.
I smiled..
Both took to the sky
As a sunbeam
Shined through the clouds
Showing them the way home.
I understood
Ive awakened
I spread my wings
And fly
Home
Where I belong.
Aug 9, 2012
Aug 9, 2012 at 12:54 AM UTC
I remember how that Puxatony dirt
felt between my fingers. Gritty
and cold – the earth that covers graves.
Falling from my palm, landing at his paws,
he curled around my leg, shivering.
Against my ankle, he rested his long ears.
Polaroids of a mothers chew-toy earrings;
memories of March spent playing in *****
backyards, forests, and playgrounds. We shivered
together, in the heat of Spring, with gritty
rock-filled driveways underneath our paws.
Lives, those playful daisies sprouting from gravel,
that we ate day by day; pushing graves
down out of mind, but spilling from our ears.
The summer wrought steel cages to grip awe,
with training meant, bent to destroy dirt
kept caked on worn-out sandals. Grits
scooped off a breakfast plate to a shivering
dachshund. His collar jingled, shimmering
as it clashed against his bowl. Cold gravy
and dry cat food, with textured scents. Gritty,
furry, and harsh. Ears dipped in water bowls
finding the only bath of the month, clearing dirt
from a death in the family. Soft, unknowing paws
treaded with grace, and a parentless pause
as we crumbled. Directionless grief shivered
the big men with their shrunken hearts, *****
from a three-hour drenching sob at the grave.
But love is not measured by the size of loss -
it is made of highs and lows; rough and gritty.
Seven pounds of compassion weighs with gridded
precision on my chest. Those tiny paws,
batting at my heart. Soft, two-times-too-large ears
crying with us and pleading through shivers
to enjoy everything. Now your graves are dug
together - between you only a foot of dirt.
Gritty reality seeps in from shivering
fiction. Your paws on your own grave,
I place my ear to the dirt, and whimper.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 11:24 AM UTC
I have so much love to give and if I were given the chance I would love you radically, I would let you feel everything so loudly it would radiate off your insides and it would move tectonic plates in California it would move mountains in Colorado it would be life changing, mind altering, it would be everything and nothing all at once
I have so much love bubbling up inside me I think the butterflies are starting to attack each other I think they are frustrated that I won't let them free but I'm afraid they won't come back if I do
I have so much to give and so much to tell you
I want you to know you belong with the wildflowers baby, but I will pick you for myself. I will wear you in my hair until all your petals fall off and fly into the wind I will mourn the loss and always keep the stem as a reminder that beauty is in your roots
I think you make it easier to laugh that belly laugh from the ground up the laugh I feel in my toes and in the ends of my hair you make things easy
You make things so easy baby suburbia might be enough
I might want to walk these streets forever I might want to be grey with you
But we could never be grey not you and me not us no never
We are already bright on our own and that's what makes us technicolored that's what makes us loud
I always liked things loud and you came screaming and wailing you came with an amp attached to your love you were so loud baby but you never made me quiet our sound never clashed it harmonized
You are my harmony
You are my mantra
My peace
My mine mine mine
I will love you down
I will love you loudly
It will be brash
It may hurt
But I will be gentle in the biggest way possible
Because love is a verb
And it's been a noun in my mouth for far too long
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
A self-arranged route.
Ambitions led me forward.
Every step was to gain my adolescent aspirations.
I was confident.
When life was array,
The goals became my crutch,
My vitality,
The only reason to move, progress.
Idealistic and naive.
Blind and hopeful.
I meandered swiftly,
I gallivanted unsuspecting.
If I was to truly exist, I had to control my haste.
Oblivious to true adversity,
I needed to digest the lesson,
I needed to understand the complications.
Unexpectedly, the caveat stared at me.
I fought and clashed,
To only raise the white flag of surrender.
The battle was lost.
Who I was eluded.
I struggled through a sea of self-impediments.
I allowed myself to drown in the agony.
I did not have the armor to save me.
Through the fog, I heard songs that healed.
I held on to the words as they began to stitch me together.
I started to crawl,
I knew I would never be the same again.
I knew I had to start a crusade,
An onslaught against myself,
An onslaught against the organization.
I knew I would never be the same again.
As I raised armaments,
With the reinforcement in my ears,
I began to evolve.
The person I was became more substantial.
I had further tribulations ahead,
But I was more prepared, more capable.
I was humbled, yet proud.
The person I was became more unobstructed.
Through the misfortune,
My identity became solidified,
I reattained my dreams,
And I made efforts to get a steady hold.
I told myself I will not founder.
I told myself I could not relinquish.
For this was the war that would define me,
And I knew I must persevere.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
should she have
thrown her wish at the stars
or down a well?
her hair in cigar smoke ringlets
her eyes were the guinness
the journey, her passion
the boy, her poison
the liffey winked with antidotes
black glass with white lights
why do rivers mock the sky?
her hair in her vision
her voice in a bird cage
a swan on a sailboat
not a soul on the ferry
on another coast
amid the day before
and the one that followed
seafoam clashed with clouds
came full circle
as her favorite dead end
she raised
then rolled
her eyes
blue waves with gray wisps
why do skies mock the river?
she didn't go over
nor to the end
she just went against the grain
of the rainbow
only she could spot
and then
she stuffed her hands into her pockets
and
she threw her wish
away
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 11:01 PM UTC
Dread, is when I took step after endless step on the staircase of death.
No. ‘Death’ is too extreme - ‘staircase of scattered limbs and self-esteems.’
The summit wasn’t far now yet it wasn’t getting any closer.
My cousin Keya was behind me; her breath cooled
my sun-blistered calves and I looked back at her.
Her almond eyes and her thin lips came together
in that customary way that moved anyone to her command.
I turned back and took the steps two at a time, too quickly to think.
Was the sky really this blue?
When it isn’t crowded out by buildings, planes and industry
it could be mistaken for the smiling reflection of an unbroken ocean.
It was a strange feeling, to be so tall and no taller. I thought:
‘if I were to live here,
I’d forever be looking down at the rest of the world.’
Keya’s little head scans the ground at my feet before she joins me.
I grit my teeth and
ignore my knocking knees.
The clouds had stood still as if they had stopped to watch and right then, it was hard to see
how this moment could possibly end.
Braying, restless braying shook me out of my reverie.
The clamour of the fiendish contingent below us clashed violently
against each other. Some
were new challengers.
Others hoped to reclaim the dignities they had lost up here.
I raised my foot; ‘I am ready’.
A hand gently pushes the small of my back.
‘No’ I thought. ‘I’m not ready at all.’
My bony bottom bounces off the sides of the slide to cheers from below. Keya laughs, and follows.
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC