"concusses" poems - Hello Poetry

the woven intercept *the crescendo soft ascending, commandeers our riveting, we do not surrender, taken, nonetheless, our deference to an elegant wand wave, combo hopeful and all encompassing, the helplessness both well understood the progression higher, steady on, a rapture going to a defined ending, concluding voyage occluded, for now, but the setting sun rays us a plan, a path, teasingly, soto voce lips moving, “this way” follow on the unsteady water restraining resistance failing, flailing weakly, it is both early morning and late afternoon, the light warms, but each, a timbre different, the pitch and intensity tho one and the same, yet, order confused, still, we are given-in giving in unwillingly absolution unrequested, but awarded anyway, shelter from the storm of safe and warm, children begin first school day, but adults know better, beginnings full of risks unforeseen, the season changes, normalized, but would be refused if we could the waiver offered, the woven intercept read, emotional intelligence so fragile, on and on, sidekicks, lovers, connected by a dotted line highway, the space between permitting anything we want, but contradictories say, wanting everything, impossible but the viable solution singular how do we leave it then? we leave it thus, clarified, separation is a kind of attachment, voidable, when, kissing comes calling, from all around the world, the crescendo ends, we each have read the intercept, it concusses, interpretations differing, yet we don’t care lying through embracing lips* our tune is a mismatched matching, a vision ending and yet anew hatching, this is love, understanding, undefinable, undefeated, a changeling definition, paths possessing multi-endings, loving is the unceasingly, desirable imperfect struggling unique, singular just like everyone else’s 9/4/19 9:07am nml (she'll know)

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Sep 7, 2019

Sep 7, 2019 at 2:14 PM UTC

nat-lipstadt

the woven intercept

the woven intercept *the crescendo soft ascending, commandeers our riveting, we do not surrender, taken, nonetheless, our deference to an elegant wand wave, combo hopeful and all encompassing, the helplessness both well understood the progression higher, steady on, a rapture going to a defined ending, concluding voyage occluded, for now, but the setting sun rays us a plan, a path, teasingly, soto voce lips moving, “this way” follow on the unsteady water restraining resistance failing, flailing weakly, it is both early morning and late afternoon, the light warms, but each, a timbre different, the pitch and intensity tho one and the same, yet, order confused, still, we are given-in giving in unwillingly absolution unrequested, but awarded anyway, shelter from the storm of safe and warm, children begin first school day, but adults know better, beginnings full of risks unforeseen, the season changes, normalized, but would be refused if we could the waiver offered, the woven intercept read, emotional intelligence so fragile, on and on, sidekicks, lovers, connected by a dotted line highway, the space between permitting anything we want, but contradictories say, wanting everything, impossible but the viable solution singular how do we leave it then? we leave it thus, clarified, separation is a kind of attachment, voidable, when, kissing comes calling, from all around the world, the crescendo ends, we each have read the intercept, it concusses, interpretations differing, yet we don’t care lying through embracing lips* our tune is a mismatched matching, a vision ending and yet anew hatching, this is love, understanding, undefinable, undefeated, a changeling definition, paths possessing multi-endings, loving is the unceasingly, desirable imperfect struggling unique, singular just like everyone else’s 9/4/19 9:07am nml (she'll know)

46

The rain makes me want to write to you, To tell you things I should have said months ago, When everything was easy and it didn't hurt so much to breathe. When there’s no barrier between what should I say and what could I say. You said we’re young. You think we’re too young huh? You think it is best to ignore every echo that concusses my heart Every time I start to say something I really feel about you? That I have to lie afterwards and say that I’m fine, Put up a smile so it will not look like regret. No, I want to dream. I’m tired of seeing memories of places I will forgot, And people who never really had names, Just because you don’t want yourself to be dreamt. But I don't want to lie awake at night knowing that somewhere you are in pain. For I remember you saying “Don’t you know your heartaches are my heartaches too?” So now I am confused, And honestly, I’m in the midst of giving up. So tonight, I’ll forget that we’re still young, and let myself fall asleep again, Go back to the places that will be forgotten soon, And ask people who never really had names just to find the answers on those questions running inside my head. As the cloud is still dark but the rain is gone. I’ll slowly close my eyes and let my soul fly away.

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Jul 20, 2015

Jul 20, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC

MLCastillo

Blurred Horizon

The rain makes me want to write to you, To tell you things I should have said months ago, When everything was easy and it didn't hurt so much to breathe. When there’s no barrier between what should I say and what could I say. You said we’re young. You think we’re too young huh? You think it is best to ignore every echo that concusses my heart Every time I start to say something I really feel about you? That I have to lie afterwards and say that I’m fine, Put up a smile so it will not look like regret. No, I want to dream. I’m tired of seeing memories of places I will forgot, And people who never really had names, Just because you don’t want yourself to be dreamt. But I don't want to lie awake at night knowing that somewhere you are in pain. For I remember you saying “Don’t you know your heartaches are my heartaches too?” So now I am confused, And honestly, I’m in the midst of giving up. So tonight, I’ll forget that we’re still young, and let myself fall asleep again, Go back to the places that will be forgotten soon, And ask people who never really had names just to find the answers on those questions running inside my head. As the cloud is still dark but the rain is gone. I’ll slowly close my eyes and let my soul fly away.

23

Necessities BY RUSTY MORRISON In through our bedroom window, the full dawn-scape concusses. Difficult to sustain sleep's equilibrium of wordlessness. Naming anything, like stepping barefoot in wet sand up to my ankles. . . .

0

Mar 13, 2014

Mar 13, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC

IrairaCedillo

Untitled

Necessities BY RUSTY MORRISON In through our bedroom window, the full dawn-scape concusses. Difficult to sustain sleep's equilibrium of wordlessness. Naming anything, like stepping barefoot in wet sand up to my ankles. . . .

5

(20 minute poetry) Going forward I'm back on track. I wonder about the travel of sound when I'm down here travelling on the underground does it speed up or slow down does it meet London coming or is it already there? I also think about ice cream In various flavours. Where the light concusses the head of the queue and the day sirens in what can we do but wonder who hasn't? Never a seat when you want one but always the beat in your eardrum and usually it's usually the left one. The next station. Not a station of the cross or Whipps Cross nor Brent Cross I get cross at Waterloo I wonder I do which is nothing new nothing is. Putting things on the back burner is no way to turn over a new leaf. I fall as autumn falls soft and slow a patchwork of evening stars that cover me and only the jackdaws to bother me, but they'll fall silent too sometimes I wonder I wander I do.

0

Feb 8, 2017

Feb 8, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Ants

(20 minute poetry) Going forward I'm back on track. I wonder about the travel of sound when I'm down here travelling on the underground does it speed up or slow down does it meet London coming or is it already there? I also think about ice cream In various flavours. Where the light concusses the head of the queue and the day sirens in what can we do but wonder who hasn't? Never a seat when you want one but always the beat in your eardrum and usually it's usually the left one. The next station. Not a station of the cross or Whipps Cross nor Brent Cross I get cross at Waterloo I wonder I do which is nothing new nothing is. Putting things on the back burner is no way to turn over a new leaf. I fall as autumn falls soft and slow a patchwork of evening stars that cover me and only the jackdaws to bother me, but they'll fall silent too sometimes I wonder I wander I do.

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