"compells" poems
The clock ticks away
the silence pounds you
it's not the peaceful quiet of life
one would wish for
it's the hostile silence
that makes your heart hammer
one that pushes you to speak
but holds back your voice in your throat.
It makes you wallow in memories
memories of things gone wrong
memories of having been wronged
it compells you to reminisce
all your regrets in life.
It instills fear in you
fear of people, of being cheated
fear of being different, of not being accepted
the fear of becoming a castaway.
It teaches you
teaches you not to trust people
teaches you
to keep your secrets locked away
in a distant, dark chamber of your heart
teaches you
to keep your feelings bottled up inside you.
Before you know it
it turns you into a paranoid misanthrope
it's cruel, it knows no love
it knows no friendship
it eats you from within
it destroys you.
This does not dawn upon you
soon enough
by the time you have realised it
it has already done its job
hardly have you got any time left
to set things right
you want to say
you need to say
things you should have said long ago
all the love not spoken of
yearns to be expressed now
you cling onto each moment
time does not pity you
it pays no heed to your pleas
each second slips by
like water in cupped hands
like the sand in an hourglass.
The silence still keeps pounding you
the clock still keeps ticking away.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 5:53 PM UTC
Everything has a beginning,
And that beginning always has an ending.
In the middle is the story,
And somewhere in that story is you.
You are lost from the moment you see the words.
How it amazes you,
And how it grasp you in.
For the moment you are lost,
You are in a different world,
A world that none are real,
Only you.
How wondrous it is to be somewhere else,
Somewhere you have never been before,
Somewhere you can never go to,
But here you are.
The thrills and suspense,
Compells you,
Not giving you up,
Not until you've had enough.
The time that passes by,
Seems shorter than a minute.
Taking deep breaths to remind you where you are,
Nothing feels real,
Nothing was real,
In that moment you know,
You are in another world.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 8:34 AM UTC
nightwatch
moon shadows
toss
moon tides
turn
what time is it
nightwatch
flip the pillow
tuck it here
tuck it there
nightwatch
creep quietly to the couch
to read until
night sounds conjur
a mystery . . .
images fade
welcome the dream
dogs barks
why do we have dogs
check the nightwatch
daybreak
sigh
what compells the day so quickly
when there has only been a
nightwatch
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 12:54 PM UTC
"*I've seen you trace the straight lines on your wrists,
There's such precision; it makes me sick.
To waste such elegant canvas',
With the use of ****** lines...
It doesn't make sense.
How? Why?
What compells you, sweetheart,
To do such a thing?
There was never any beauty
Behind geometrical lines.*"
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 6:20 AM UTC
He is after us
We cant get away
We think we do
But he shows back up
He gets hit by a car
Gets up
Unscathed
Chasing us
He wants us dead
We want him dead
Cold steel enters my skin
Nice try
Not deep enough
I steal the knife
Living autopsy
Slice
I cut right down his sternum
Splash
****** fluids hit my face
Stomach acid
Bile
Blood
We run away
He gets up
Unscathed
Who is this man?
What does he want?
I am not dying today
She is not dying today
Another man shows up
Help has arrived
He pours water in my hair
Splash it on them
"The power of christ compells you"
He is weakened
Living autopsy yet again
I pour the water in him
He has been defeated
She is safe
I am alive
All are happy
I wake up
It was all a dream
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 4:54 PM UTC
You've been through the night before
These eyes that long to hold
Watch as a summer breeze brings the dusk
A sun is setting
Somethings lost
It will be the night once more
These eyes that saw a light
Watch as a witching hour compells the malevolent spirit
Creatures roaming hills
And living ghosts
I lift you up so high
You were the morning
The sun in the sky
The sun has to fall
And even my hands can't hold you back from the night
But as a veil falls over the world
And a shroud falls over your eyes
I'll still shine a distant star
I'll be there in the dark
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 5:07 PM UTC
Have you ever had one of those Astral Weeks?
Asks the man with sunshine in his eyes,
It was all looking a little bleak
Before finding another one of those highs
Let it flow, let it go? Let us listen to the slow river speak:
-“There has not been for a long time a spring
as beautiful as this one; the grass, just before mowing,
is thick and wet with dew. At night bird cries come up from the edge of the marsh, a crimson shoal lies in the east till the morning hours.”
Flowing through those undercurrents:
Under a sky filled with towering cumulonimbus,
The chill of a long, long night always nipping, now slipping
Maybe, it is a simple reminder,
To go out and find her,
As I long just to hold her tight.
And the slow river speaks:
“The gates of the earth torn open, the key
to the earth revealed. A star is greeting the day.”
Awaken Trickster, bring on the nefarious and teach
us to laugh gregarious-
ly at the shames we allow others to install
deep in our sub
ordinates, can’t figure out these coordinates. Where
are those landmarks that will guide me back.
Earth dividing, plates colliding. The thrombosis
compells me to dive yet a little deeper. More pressure, I hope,
will let me see a little clearer. And mitosis: the warrior is there
and always has been: my impeccable self. Maybe I am
a little closer to filling this vessel
And the train whistle blows
Do not let it pull you under
these currents, that thunder, or maybe don’t fight it
alight it
let your soul and spirit and fly
Have you ever had one of those astral weeks?
I ask as I look at the sunshine in my eyes, I think
it was all looking a little bleak
before finding another one of those highs
Let it flow, let it go, let the slow river speak:
-“Three times must the wheel of blindness
turn, before I look without fear at the power
sleeping in my own hand, and recognize spring,
the sky, the seas, and the dark, massed land.”
Welcome to my castle
as we flow out of the mystic
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
Tonight, I search for the shadow of a past unknown to me.
In it's depths I see what you confessed, once, some time ago.
Do you remember what had been said
under the moon's heavy eye, whose light was reflected in the furious waves of the winter sea?
That night you had smoked, and sighed, and read to me what you wrote
in the pages of my small notebook.
From the pages spilled forth confessions and tales of your first love.
A love whose hold I could still feel in your nervous voice.
In your eyes, I saw an expression of muted sorrow for that past,
Sorrow lingering, the failure of a first love,
And a lachrymose melancholy for things, which I could only grasp from the little
which you wrote and gave away.
I watched helplessly as you tore open your heart to display to me what troubles you still.
It now tears my heart.
It was hard to take in.
...
Tonight, I see the past through a window
Which I came across, still open
Through it I see a similar scene.
Close to the sea, on a rocky beach
Two figures sit, embracing each other
with a naive love, burning still with childish innocence.
The boy who's eyes are blinded by her beauty,
Whose heart is taken by her mind,
Declares his love in words and loving gestures.
Confessions so hot in nature that they burn the eyes of a distanced observer.
It is me.
...
Tonight, my thoughts wander,
down visions of dark alleyways and corridors I was never in
Seeing the happiest life he has ever known, in the arms of a girl which aren't mine.
He loved her, he did
With all his heart.
And I love him.
I love him, I really do, and I cannot contain myself.
Words in uncovered love letters are burned into my mind and
tear my heart still.
Kisses captured in photographs of white and grey take on a green colour in my heart.
O sickening love, why must I see these things? What morbid force compells me to torture myself with such thoughts?
Was it for this Pandora opened her box?
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 8:08 PM UTC
If beginning wasn't so difficult,
I'd start with your heart.
With my head pressed against your chest,
from the very beginning,
I trust it -
it and it's racing rhythm.
I think perhaps only half of what I hear is your own.
Because half of it is mine,
as I hear the blood rushing through my ear.
If middles didn't need to be so complex,
I'd elaborate; gently.
The simple truth is that my heart doesn't even deserve yours.
Mine is cold, and closed, and controlled.
"Love who I say to love."
But yours is open, and patient, and loving,
and I learn from it, as it slowly thaws my own.
If endings didn't hurt,
I'd like to say your heart is the end of me.
I think your heart compells me to love more freely,
for mine beats a different and new beat;
it beats for you.
And I believe I could love your heart,
until the day my own gives out.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 10:25 PM UTC
No stranger to temptation
Yet i find myself here -
This self destruction
Compells me beyond fear
Life's trappings cannot hold -
The fears of mortal souls,
Forced forward to an end
One will never suspend
So forth i will stride
Into paths indeterminate -
No longer denied
I will advance with morals forfeit
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 6:02 AM UTC
*I shouldn't give you
The acknowledgement
You desperately seek,
Since your temperament
Compells you to do
What most consider
Irrational
And pitifully bitter.
You solely act on
Sudden impulses
Which you can't even
Attempt to ignore.
I'm not just a pawn
Who follows repulsive
Banter you spew
And seem to implore
Is free of any
Erroneous speech,
Though this fallacy,
I have to ponder:
How can you remain aptly confident
When all these relationships, you *squandered?
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 2:36 AM UTC