"clinching" poems
silently we basked in our silence
naked we inhaled each others presence
exhausted we lay resting
in the pools of our sweat
the sheets clinching to our tired bodies
dripping wet juices
saturated we are
satisfied
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 2:13 AM UTC
I am miserable
Both physically and emotionally
My head is pounding
My jaw aches from clinching it
My chest hurts from crying
Red eyes blotchy skin
I am a mess
Tired of playing games
Wondering if you care
Do you really love me
Your words say one thing
But your actions are the opposite
I cannot keep doing this
I refuse to play
I fold
I quit
I am done
I have played your games for too long
You can keep your "love"
I do not want it anymore
I am better than this
I am worth more
I am walking away
No looking back
Please just let me go
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC
The carpenter sits in his rocking chair as he thinks,
as the sun drowns itself into the dark clouds, he waits.
Waiting for something to tell him that he is no longer a boy anymore,
that his maturity and humility have been masqueraded
Into a body that resembles him.
Every night, when he eats, he sits alone
His plate as round as the moon,
He lights one candle on his dinner table.
Most nights, when he is drinking heavily,
he walks to the back of his house,
sits in front of an old wooden bench,
gazing across the lake and he picks up a book,
construing ideas and proposals that he fails to recollect the morning after.
He reads poems to himself, poems from books.
Poems about the nature and history of the human condition,
about the muscles and the tendons in our bodies
that bend and crumble and shiver at our disposal.
Bottle in his left hand, book in his right.
And sometimes he switches hands to highlight his drunken dexterity.
Clinching his book of poems as if they were his children,
too afraid to go out into the soft fear of the electric night,
and he was the wild one to present to this world.
He feels abandoned, dismayed,
and he no longer sees a light at the end this tunnel,
like someone or something is closing it,
leaving a crevice wide enough just to test and to tease
his willing and purpose to escape from it.
He feels a burning in his chest
as he trickles down the last drip of scotch onto his lips,
tasting death like it was tapwater.
It's midnight and he has to wake up in six hours,
wake up to a routine where his work becomes unnoticed
because he doesn't have the ***** to stand up for himself.
So, he sits and he waits for something to happen,
something fantastic or supernatural to help him grow wings
so he could relieve the tension on his shoulders,
his bones realigned to fit the being of gods.
He closes the book, walks back to his house
and blows his one candle at the dinner table,
blackening the room to fit the clouds of the night.
He lies in his bed as he engulfs his body with his comforter,
hoping to never wake up in a world that will not hesitate to laugh in his face.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 9:28 PM UTC
Skirting the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest)
Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance of the eagles,
The rushing amorous contact high in space together,
The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel,
Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass tight grappling,
In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward falling,
’Till o’er the river pois’d, the twain yet one, a moment’s lull,
A motionless still balance in the air, then parting, talons loosing,
Upward again on slow-firm pinions slanting, their separate diverse flight,
She hers, he his, pursuing.
2.8k
All Along this chain link fence
pulsing incessant down ground-ward decent
Bone paved side cracked and twisting this winding road
No street lights rest stops my nerve twitch eyes closed
swelling and curving no stretch in shoulder
Wheels rub the hot spot as ripples get louder
Sliding highways you know that fun
till happy turns hazard drinking redrum
tumblingdown head first
shatteringhigh star burst
scatteringmy focus
splatteringlike bone crush
scaffoldingdo not touch!
Another brick in the wall of fame
extra activity considered the game
Now Excel at macro Alt Shift and paste
spreadsheet my back line the facts on my face
"Say Boy!, your speedy." from there I can trace
That needle-nosed issue in tissue displaced
bend over run forward turn left then cough
so perfect small packages get checked in then lost
Like milli tary or leaves when it out lived the need
***** the life from under shelter asteamed
Sleeping pins needle in terminal sensation
clinching and grasping to my spinal decoration
twisting and turning will bring no release
this physical chain from my **** cyst to neck leash
when typing or driving the pleasure is lost
when numbness takes over attention to high a cost
I'm broken together
one round at a time
yet the cords are in place
to ring in tune as it grinds.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
When she saunters
in a two piece bikini,
without making
any pug marks
even on soft sand,
"Which one color
adds more firepower
to her allure
enhanced figure?"
is a question
never heard aloud,
all the same,there
hovers in the thick air,
quite tangibly.
Even with all the intimate
knowledge on her at hand,
it is still too difficult
to suggest, as she moves
with the deadly confidence
of a sleek armored car,
every one that appears on
the line of fire along
the 180 degree curve
sure would go down,
that's a daily occurrence.
But if on a bikini in white
she would be seen on the beach
absolutely mysterious she looks
the decision on this is unanimous!
how does one know this?
-a stunned silence every time
happens is the clinching proof.
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
Tentacles twist breaking bow and mast.
Clinging and clinching to the once mighty vessel.
A ship once prized by the Navy
Now prized as a partner for the sea beast.
Each serpentine tentacle tightens,
Around wooden board, and cast iron fastener.
Creaking and cracking the boat dances as the beast leads.
Waves crazed as they are whipped to frenzy,
Matching the mammoth's rhythms.
They struggle to keep the beast contained.
White caps covering the beasts murderous desire.
The ship is his, and as dances do,
This one ends in a flourish.
Cracking crosstrees and foremast,
Collapsing the gangways,
Sails still whipping as the dancer's dress is ravaged.
And as quickly as it began
It stops.
The monster sinks back from where his strike began.
The tired vessel following quickly after.
The water forgets its rhythm and steps.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 10:44 PM UTC
I don't know If I’m Having a Feeling
I don't have any emotions anymore
Or I am dreaming, while I am awake?
Is my mind exploring my feelings?
While seeking happiness in this 18 degree weather?
Baking a melodrama cake,
Pounding away my headaches,
Clearing the path, making way for better
Eggs, butter, flour, sugar and raisins
Raising the bar, with the baking powder
Of transferring my feeling into logic,
As it blend into a smooth non stanza
Poetic form of puppy love, clinching
and all that rises, rise in due degree
And is in everything we see and do.
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 8:07 AM UTC
I was in the car with the mama of the girl I babysit,
her brown deep eyes like whittled wood flicked over mine,
and she asked me what I had learned at school today.
I don’t know, but I think it’s this spring fever
that seems to have burned a hole through my head
letting my brain bounce up into the blue abode
but the blame is not solely on the season
Everything I learn that keeps me living,
lives in the trains of thought,
thought by others.
The mothers I meet with the babies who greet the failure
at the first knock on their wobbly knees
compel me to contemplate further,
because with each waking breath
they are reminded that to live, you learn.
So I tell this fragile woman that today my teachers taught,
but the thought of their subjects
subjects negative connotations,
I want real lessons without plans to hand you wisdom, courage, and consideration
I get to learning in the jaw clinching, artery pinching, eyebrow flinching
awe of the way that woman can sing.
I’ve learned the color of my best friends teeth
because some days she smiles.
Learning to heal is hard enough, but to deal with a scab left raw
is something I will always need improvement on.
With, or without school I’m going to learn.
I’m going to learn cold beverage condensation rings,
percolating dreams,
my little sisters shy smiled wings
and societies racist, sexist, sizeist, ageist, ableist, tightly sewn seams.
Im rattling off my bare brisk list of ambitions,
of pleading for a voluminous scholarshipped tuition,
as I sit next to this woman waiting for a robust reply
I’m learning, that the whittled wood gap in her eyes
are round with sticky sap.
She will teach her daughter academically, never letting her size our common ground;
The skies.
I want her baby to experience,
and as if on cue,
her yawn brings in the tides of the oceans in her eyes,
something she’s learning to cope with,
she’s grasping my soft word’s
“This too, shall pass,
make sure you look to learn with your eyes not your brain,
dear baby girl, choose water over wood,
and when your mama tells you to pack that school bag,
make sure its zipper barely closes over
tightly stuffed open mindedness, and a few colored pencils.”
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC
Broken and defeated
front seat of incompetence depleted
Sleep deprived and laid to rest
beating and pounding in my chest
Evident thoughts run through my mind
time seems to be falling behind
Speak a word and i shall provoke
clinching fists and i have broke
Everything turns to an outbreak of rage
no more emotion could be bottled up and caged
I fall to the floor and I burst out crying
all I feel is me slowly dying
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
how is one supposed
to aver their thoughts and emotions
with nowhere to pour their words
and nowhere to place their heart for safe keeping?
one has tried locking their heart inside of a chest
where forests of anxiety filled skies and thorny vines await predators eyeing the treasure: a pulsing heart, torn in two, clinching onto the safety of benevolence.
but somehow, the heart is always gaining scars...
scars that have stories,
stories intangible of the human mind to even comprehend.
when flooding season arrives,
those feelings
those emotions
float up stream and settle onto the banks
where a human sits,
eyes overflowing with the truth of life: nothing can be hidden from our world,
from ourselves.
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 2:28 PM UTC
new, unused; you picked me up
from quite a few parched with dust over them
excited you were so was I to be selected after all.
picture of me clicked, lights on and a perfect setup,
you and me only with a cup of chai and not so bright lights.
love thrill and excitement,
the first chapter had it all,
you read it and loved it,
like never before.
with the passing chapters the story slowed down,
so did your reading speed,
started forcing yourself, with tired face and sleepy eyes
struggled just to move forward,a bit more, a page more, a chapter more. maybe you should have Let me go at that moment,
but decided to hold.
never did you forget to take out time for me,
I have seen you crying smiling clinching to your pillow like a kid,
also while reading when that pink blush slid. soon the story paced up again, there were ups Lows and heartbreaks,
and you were sailing through them all,
along with me.
I was about to get over,
we were about to end,
you wanted me to be longer but the plot didn’t allow,
you finished reading,
you competed with me and you freed me,
that was how I wanted it to end.
now I am free I promise to be with you,
through your lows and highs and smiles and cries,
that’s why it’s always said,
it all starts with a good book.
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 2:22 AM UTC
*Much like roots of a tree sprout
love molds into what it desires, clinching the one
it desperatley seeks
everything that makes it
whole
one who can finish sentences before they are spoke
and understand unspoken words
never blind to pain nor needs
magic hands that soothe the wildest fires within a
troubled
soul
loving no matter how bad the storm is, or how you both shall
deteriorate
never venturing from one another, or falling into an empty
temptation
knowing the cost of such foolshness
love knows no boundaries, it shines in the darkest of days
and grows in the worst of storms*
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 1:51 AM UTC
In this chapter of life,
I decipher decisions with my knife,
resting under a tree,
staying out of the light,
i know i must stay alive,
resting my hand on the hilt of my sword,
standing for battle once more,
I lower my mask,
to show my evil core,
a wondering ronin bent on settling a score,
I fight for family,
and poverish,
and anyones who's suffered,
my katana will strike for you,
pride of the samurai,
fire falls from the sky,
let the gods cry tonight,
tonight, tonight,
Using my thumb,
I release my zanpakuto from its sheath,
I'm ready to strike at any time,
but first i think of the ones i love,
for if it wasn't for them,
I wouldn't be standing today,
glancing down to see the three skulls hanging from my waist, residing next to my knife,
the man whom taught me to fight,
the day he died,
he lied in my arms,
i love.....
never getting to say who,
might have been the first time my father cried,
the same king hath slain dad in my eye,
was the same man,
to burn my son alive,
only proceeding to **** and **** my wife,
she ceased to cry,
I never shed a tear,
just held their screaming heads for all to hear,
i started to walk,
I fight for family,
and poverish,
and anyones whos suffered,
my katana will strike for you,
pride of the samurai,
fire falls from the sky,
let the gods cry tonight,
tonight, tonight,
With every clinching strike,
I **** the demons underlings,
slicing and hacking,
I remember each and every soul,
I'll pray for them,
not to be ***** in hell,
standing before the demon king,
grabbing my sword I don't even need,
I could **** this man with one bare hand,
he'll cower in fear as my kin never did,
I cut him once across his chest,
splitting his cage of once were ribs,
his organs spill to the ground,
finger through the blood,
lower down to grab his heart,
palmed his head in my bare fist,
raising my sword to his neck,
you think this is pain?
try hell,
with that said,
I split his head from his neck,
tying his hair to my belt,
a fourth skull i must hold.
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 8:38 PM UTC
Under the flowering moon
Your naked body lies
Bound to the lunars tendrils
Tethering to your skins ambiance
Fingeringly scalinging the motions of your body
Following your soulful extractions
Silver lights incarnate driven passion
O' woman, woman of the moon
Of the night, of darkness
Dance with me
Dance the dance of love,
Of the heart, of passion,
Of Desires stowed deep within the mind
Beneath the woven fabric of a feral night
Entwined within the stitches silver aura
These stars our only witness
As the darkness spreads it's clinching grasp
Plunging our passions into carnal chaos
Watching the heavy rise and fall of your chest
The echoes of your hearts breath in my mind
The chemical passion of our physical bodies
Consumes the desires of our flesh
Shadows contouring to the night
The sweet nectar of your lips
An everlasting enticement to mine
Darkly decadent sensations pressing on
Only as creatures within can conjure
Elegantly crafting and artistically formulated
These darkest nights memoirs
Sated with our own designs
Unrelenting and intoxicating
Addicting and compounding
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
Hiya gramps,
It's been a long time since I said hello
Not that I forgot about you though
It's just that things have been going kind of slow
I miss you, you just don't know
Honestly wish you never had to go
Life would have been so much easier wouldn't you say so
These tears wouldn't be flying like rain drops in the sky
Wouldn't be clinching this string so tight
Struggling not to say forget it all and just die
Belive me it's rather tempting but I could never bring myself to do it
Always thought about that deathly frown you'd give me
And that judgemental shake of the head
Followed by the famous "I love you, but you got to try again"
Well anyways I just wanted to say hi I'm doing fine
You'd be so proud of me if you were still alive
For you and I I'll survive
Rest in peace grandpa I love you so much
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 4:38 AM UTC
We collide like thunder.
Wrapped in your indigo skin,
Wrapped in your warmth,
Fingers dig through the ache
Of wanting more.
Coiled tight,
Clinching,
An reaction of skin
pressed against skin.
I wear your shadow.
Thick in your sweat.
Like lightening you stretch.
Your breath rises,
In search of something to devour.
Again we collide.
Striking the gap
of emptiness between us.
Your eyes searching me.
The primal urge
to connect.
Still searching.
Still craving.
Marking where we lay,
Until the next storm
Oct 5, 2024
Oct 5, 2024 at 6:02 AM UTC
I woke up in your eyes
found myself on your skin
with each of my finger tips
I softly touch your red lips
admiring them like rubies
Anxiety have u lying on my carpet
I grab the gold bracelets on your wrist
Stretching your arms to their peak
whisper in your ear a love
that can keep you warm at night
Satisfied in the morning
The sun rays beam through my windows
natural heat touching our moist skin
You tossed your red boots,
to place your bare feet in
a comfortable place
i feel your lasso
tied around my waist
I'm giving you the truth
I lick your navel
spread your legs
Your eyes closed, heart racing
I recognize you
from the star on your tiara,
to your jet black hair,
to your American flag hips
kisses on a superheroine's ****
My hands gripping your thighs
Your strong back arch ,
fingers clinching my carpet.
moaning to the ceiling
biting your lips; soft
legs tied around my neck
Sooner or later you'll leave
To the save the world
I could encourage you to stay
But I know love with Wonder Woman
Can't be real, that's the emotion
I only see in comic books
So I wipe my mouth
Helped you into your chariot
watch you fly into the sky
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 3:22 PM UTC
Walls cover the grass.
Break them down, slide them to the side.
Tornadoes ripping on the lawn. Gently brushing by, making the sprinklers go off. Breaking the windows… kissing the doors
Volcanoes on my breakfast table, breaking the morning fast with a splash of lava squirting out.
A disaster; burning the village, breaking the bed… Leaving wrinkled sheets after it leaves.
She’s unbalanced and in need of a protector. But the laws are unbreakable. Fire breathing and constantly erupting the volcano is nearing destruction.
Violently coming over and over…
Burning everything in it’s way clinching to the ground for salvation. Still in unrest she falls asleep trembling…
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
Try to be somber yet releasing that clinching sound,
up around her head peering through the clouds,
she'll call into command central listening to your voice yet apprehensible.
but to you I'm still invisible.
So call to ground and land your tired feet in the dirt,
either way you're going to get hurt,
you'll always end up with the lipstick on your collar,
a tare in your fine silk skirt,
but, either way you're going to be a bother.
Give her the longitude and latitude of where I will be,
she'll stretch around her arms and swim out to sea,
to push my bobbing head down into the drowning mass,
you yourself knew it wouldn't last.
Set out the sails call and search,
drop the anchor and set into sea,
call onto the cracken her heart angry distinguished and exhausted,
in the soil under the sea is a chest with a heart,
whatever we had,
we lost it.
You dive down deep in this ocean of a reluctant bind,
as for me the anchor I proceed to subside and reside onto you,
in everything you do.
I'll kiss your face to smile onto you,
I'll wave when the night calls and come back up when you set sail,
cause darling without you this world would be hell.
So call to ground and land your tired feet in the dirt,
either way you're going to get hurt,
you'll always end up with the lipstick on your collar,
a tare in your fine silk skirt,
but, either way you're going to be a bother.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
Clinching to the one thing I know,
an elegance that was sewn,
with the other side now more unknown.
Bulging droplets of wealth drench us favored few,
our worry of adversity quickly evolves into voodoo.
Lessons can be taught to those who are ignorant,
but we can't be fair, or fix every situation.
Harsh times can be seen in advance,
but only by those who aren't caught in trance.
So I will let you know,
from the balcony of my chateau,
when the world will get rid of those below.
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
The baseline throbbed
And the chorus echoed
With liquid confidence
And a substance filled mind
As I approached from behind
I put my right hand on her hip
My left hand clinching my pabst
She turn around and said,
*“I thought you were going grab my ***
I spoke no words, just grinned
She smiled
I hadn’t had this much confidence
in a long while.
She whipped her hair and my heart went wild
“Do you want do dance with me?”
She whispered in my ear
I placed my other hand on her hip
My beer hit the floor
I whispered back
“That and so much more”
*“I want to move
And make time stand still
I want you to whimper at my will
And rise to my roar”*
*“I want to show you how good I am with
My words
And my hands
And my tongue
And my lungs”*
*“I want to show you the world
I want to paint portraits of mountains
Before climbing them
And from mountain tops I want to
Draw the sky
I want our eyes
To gaze at the stars within us”*
*“I want to learn everything about you
As I show you everything I am”*
*“I want to dance for you
As you dance for me”*
We danced all evening
And due to my success on this night
It was the highest I had ever been.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 7:01 PM UTC