"confidences" poems
We've had a turbulent journey together
And as he pushed the bike, slowly did his hand release me
Riding the crashing waves I admit my struggle
And my childish naivety gave passage to worser threats
Yet still he stands there, waving me on my way
Even to this day, despite questionable confidences, I still turn
And still he stands there
A rebel I didn't mean to be, but I am cursed with escalating emotions
Or maybe he would say a blessing, to empathize and find strength
As memories haunt me at night, teaming with those of ill will
The sensitivity he passed on to me prevails, Innocently I am slowed
But my wheels continue turning, and my heart stays true
Though my eyes and ears remain obstructed, my heart makes a turn
And yes, he still stands there
His presence unpurposefully commands attention
And his knowledge, he gives without catch
I understand the wars he must encounter, and yet he stays calm
Giving peace to the tide, he offers nothing, but gives everything
I unconditionally love him
I honestly hold respect for him,
He indirectly teaches me
And fuels me with his love
In this moment, I turn back, not for fear of falling,
But to wave back to the man who let me go
He is no longer there, standing firm in his spot
No
My friend, my father, he rides by my side.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
How tenuous this grip we have, how slight our hold remains
When all around loud braggards boast that power now pertains,
We see the banner headlines splashed across our daily rags
And redneck demonstrations cleans the streets of Spics and ****
When blood runs in the gutter as the battons rise and fall
And whilst taking tea in style the filthy rich ignore it all.
The blonde leader of our nation struts, postulates and brags
While the rest of us skive off around the corner smoking ****
Our kids ingest confusion as they loiter on the street
Unknowing our delusions make illusions held, replete.
How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our hold remains
As our allies shower cold distrust convinced our fault inflames.
What chance of clear redemption, what remedies revive
When truth is lost to darkness can our honesty survive?
Reputation cut to shards, confidences ******
That leaders of community no longer hold our trust
When white is caste as black and then to green and then to grey
And sanity refuses pontification one more day.
How tenuous the grip we have, how slight our holds remain
As twilight turns to darkness caste against a larks’ refrain.
M.
The White House
HAMILTON, New Zealand
25 July 2018
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
As quiet, sleek and sophisticated as they are.
Cats speak volumes
In meow tunes..to the nation of humans.
In the space they consume...
Cats speaks..uniquely thank you's in cat chat hues..
Colored as colorful as the rainbows...
loving to hide where nobody knows
Cats walk with confidences,, able to leap high over fences..
Able to hold their own.. able to freely roam..
A cat can cruise in packs..... or walk solo as a matter of fact.
They don't need man to tell them they are royal
you can see this in their stroll.
Deep down in their being.. so noble,, mankind is blessed to behold..
The animal kingdom fashioned purposefully..
Striking divinity blessing mankind usefully.
Needed generously..Well now if your
sharing space with a cat do it graciously.
Being gentle feline Angels..even when naughty enough to scold.
A cat has a unique role...Even with their pampered attitudes..
If your cats is giving you attitude and acting rude.
There's logic behind those actions and moods..
Get yourself on over to cats school and learn cats 101.
Figure out the madness causing this sadness.
Don't be a quitter.. never hit him/her...
Do no harm.. Or heavens bells will ring a alarm.
Know your attending heavenly royalty keep your blessings flowing.
Cats walk and move softly gently with grace...
Your blessed when a cats in your place.
Show them love..don't bring about disgrace.
Proverbs 12:10 A righteous man regards the life of his animal.
By HeavensRosePoet aka selinarose!
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
THE MASK….
This mask that I wear
Is worn with care
Behind this mask
Is someone so
Rare
Beware!!!
For this mask can tell
A million stories
Of fight and glories
Behind this mask
Resides the real me
Confusions
Disillusions
Loneliness
Restlessness
This mask is worn
To cover the scars
Marred by the years
Of fears
Tears
Afraid of not being
Heard
Shattered confidences
Self-worth
Pity showing its ugly face
Feeling of disgrace
So never be fooled
By the mask that is worn
It could be I am tattered
And torn
This mask that I wear
Keeps me secure
And so sure
Silently watching
From every corner
Gaining strength
Dignity
And grace
Finally someday
I will show
My true face
© Helen Moule
23rd April 2012
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 2:29 PM UTC
Dust settles.
No longer shall
Pattering feet
Send it flying
The walls stop echoing.
No longer shall there be
Loud joyous voices,
Soft voices with whispering confidences...
The tap keeps dripping.
No longer left open
In careless negligence.
The corners
No longer hide
Secrets dripping
From quavering lips
The grass in the field
Will quietly rustle
Missing innocence
And smiles
Of free days in the Sun.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 7:52 AM UTC
He has one eye missing
And a patchwork ****
I tell everybody he’s winking,
That he has one eye shut.
He’s lost a lot of hair
And he no longer sits up
Like he used to before.
But whenever I see him
I am never in doubt
He is still the bear I adore.
Bubby Bear is a very good bear
The best friend there ever could be.
He sleeps by my side every night
And Bubby never argues with me.
When things get too scary
Or out of control I go and
Grab up Bubby and hold him.
He’s always warm and he’s
Sympathetic, and so I never
Feel the need to scold him.
I can always talk to him
And explain things out
Because he is so very patient.
I think it is because he
Is such a very wise bear
And always there waiting.
Bubby Bear is the finest bear
He always right beside me.
I don’t have to worry that he
He might want to abandon me.
Some people like to tease me
About the way Bubby looks
And make fun of his condition.
But they have to admit to me
They don’t have a friend who gives
One hundred percent permission,
And never gets tired of them
Or tattles their confidences
Or gets bored with what they say.
That’s why Bubby is my best friend
Always was, always will be
All night long and every single day.
Bubby Bear is a very good bear
He puts up with my every whim.
I feel sorry for anyone who
Doesn’t have a friend like him.
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 8:27 PM UTC
Longing the curse of
Human Satisfaction
I clear my throat
Remembering the madness of a storming boat
The whipping winds
Introduced a chaos
That infinity even had to question
Correcting confidences like a teacher would the troublemaker
Insanity rides high,
Protecting itself from women
That they thought they knew at the time
But soon discovered
They wouldn't even lend'em a dime
I lost track of something way back when
But now see that I was never young
Just not strong enough to grip the gun
Forgetful through shallow puddles of dampening and soggy
Love
I try to structure these thoughts
But only produce
Ashy white doves
For the fire inside all of us is burning hard and eternal
There is no hope that can forever float
So in these times after alabaster marble shiners
And politicians pinching pennies naked in front of camera's
A policemen whispers to a friend he hates the leader
And soon is bludgeoned and branded a freak
Forever dead dreams in a child's mind is the place I wish to be
Away from the hanging school halls
Away from the broken bottle battalions
A place directed towards indirectness
Where mystery lightly grips its boot heels
Ready to flee at any chance given to thee
Startling laughter rests in the ears of men un-hearing
Obsessed pig tail wearing women
Upset the gifted girl a la two first names
Swinging herself madly and wildly
With words she herself cannot even understand or control
But Oh the traces of mastery and genius with clouded perceptions
Of shadows contemplating Aristotle easily
For the barman is asking for the tab now
And the lonesome nights I knew before
Still await me once again
As the same dead knights rest in books
On high ancient shelves
In dusty far away nooks
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 11:34 AM UTC
I'm wondering if the surface of our passions
is all that we've been scratchin.
We take small bites like rations
and always do it the same old fashion.
But the passion of sweaty spasms
that let us play Eve and Adam
get us by but I've fathomed
that our ******* are also our chasm.
So could that make a ****** cause fallout?
And if you were in need would you call out?
or would you hide it inside you like
the sympathy I have is all out?
I'll be honest: I never saw doubt til it hit like a bus,
but then again all that lust
usually comes with some trust
It's a must.
Somehow it's lackluster from something so wanderlust.
I dunno if confidants correlate to confidences
but the way that we've been feeling
couldn't be just coincidences.
and I'm not defenseless,
I've grown thick skin with thin pretenses.
so I wish you the very best
and I'd never wish any less,
you always got a place in my chest
but this thing is better off put to rest.
so its over, I'm going forward but behind me I won't find regret,
cause I'll still be having good times but the old ones I won't forget.
Listen here. --> https://soundcloud.com/m_c_vegh/a-parting-of-ways
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 10:04 PM UTC
I found you
Found your arms in the secrecy of an encroaching dusk
In the shade of trees
The coveted corners of quiet
I found the hidden pieces of your soul
As they sat beside mine
In the comfort of silence
Whispering through the air promises of belonging
Of two broken pieces becoming a whole
Two unknowns becoming the known
Two wrongs finally becoming one right
You found me
As your delicate fingers ran across my skin
Laced through the curls of my hair
Carefully stitching the gaping caverns of suspicion in a doubtful heart
Placing together shattered confidences with a tender touch
Holding them firmly with the power of your affection.
We built each other as reflections of ourselves
As better forms of the shadows we'd learned to become
We found each other
With skin upon skin
Fingers entwined
A world away from the troubled minds we used to live in
We found each other
Together
We found peace
We discovered love.
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 9:07 AM UTC
stars crinkle under our feet
bouncing off the blades of moonlit grass
carried downstream in the canal behind
my house
I walk down memory lane with my brother Lou
Lou lost it in his teens diagnosed schizoid
but able to function under guidance and meds
together we lug a cumbersome old wooden box
to the trash
gently I quizzed him
“do you remember us when we were little
on our sled all the snow and fun we had?”
Lou stares blankly into the night,
“I was never small, I was made 6 ft. 3 in.”
“but I have a photo of us”
again Lou denies that such a time ever existed,
insisting that he sprang full-grown
from the mind of some unknown madness
Christmas lights blink coloring his face
red then green
“That's alright Lou, I remember....”
whispering goodnight
I tuck Lou under the blankets
of my heart
and watch him trudge away
a small boy in a gray snowsuit
*“Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you”*
(Simon & Garfunkle, 1968)
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 7:10 PM UTC
Curious Natures
In a more weak world the most aggressive advantages
don't always deal in what is referred to as "fair consequence."
Being an empire built of sharks, snakes, wolves, and rats-the most basic of beasts-
we really understand the most prehistoric philosophy: survival.
Using it as the first building blocks and the cracked foundation for this society.
Still, one must always reserve all judgements for the most lucrative habits that surprised all by opening up a vast spectrum of the most curious natures.
Leaving any who wander vulnerable to grow into a legendary victim or a menace to the community.
Often being left with a life of never being able to escape their never ending abnormal minds.
It has been speculated as well as documented, that these street racing thoughts are more than fast to attach themselves to a mythical beast more commonly known as a "mortal" who will lose all balance and footing as they unknowingly grasp both reality and fantasy with white knuckled fists.
Stuck in this forced upon reverie of insane clarity that consumes both the mind and soul.
Becoming vessels for the sins of others, as they are suddenly privy to the most awarding secrets and gilded griefs they could never begin to understand.
Belonging to the most wildly havoc notoriously murdering confidences.
While the rest of us, close our eyes and frequently feign sleep.
All the while refusing responsibility for each other, denying a hostile yet unmistakable sign that declares the biggest secret of all: THE TRUTH.
Told in the most intimate, consuming, quivering, thundering, vibrations being smothered in a explosion that was meant for "We the People" as it projects a plethora of colours on a always changing horizon.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 4:51 AM UTC
it comes in waves
more so than any
thing i've put in my system
a brutal break
terrible kick
incapacitated by addiction
time went by
fooling myself
you went your way i went mine
but life don't let
you off so easy
fighting that tingle in the spine
counting down
pending relapse
thought myself further than i am
i'll avoid meeting
end hiatus greetings
but i'm only humbly a man
stronger now than ever
mind and soul
in confidences i now stand
you'll float on in
just like i've dreamt
but it's me who'll have the upper hand
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 4:01 AM UTC
Connections bring out the worst in me.
Sitting next to you, dark brown eyes
that light up too readily, lips turning at the corners
and a laugh that brings out mine, instinctively.
Secrets shared and confidences brokered
as we lean in and whisper, co-conspirators
facing the world, as a unit we rise together,
my thoughts mirrored on his face.
Tongue in cheek exchanges and insults
parodied and paraded between cross-roads,
intersects as we dance verbally, smiles
all too often exchanged as I know, now,
that I am heading for the fall.
That one that I always anticipate, the one that
has only happened once before, excitement
coursing in my veins as I try to tell myself stop,
think, take a breath and see the wall where this ends.
I can't help it though, his presence is like lightning,
as I glow from within enjoying this brief moment.
Desolation brews, but it is future-bound and I give
myself to the moment, pleasure paid for with future pain.
He is not mine, nor will he ever be,
we will never dance again and our eyes will not meet.
I am trying to find pleasure in past moments
but now gravity claims me, my loss is only my own,
as he falls back into the non-existence from whence he came
and all that now remains is the absence of him.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 3:49 PM UTC
Girl of imagery, of MacBook and Photoshop.
In a Skype conference with designers and
Project Managers across
Europe,
Smiling to me when I enter the room
Quietly; she's working. I was in Sweden
With the guys. Bragging. *She's good for
You,* they said, raising
Beer cans around the fire. *Woman
Accepted, dear brother!*
A little too drunk, I felt, to phone her from
The hill with reception. No need. She'd
Texted me: *Sverre, I am perfect for you;
As you are for me. I adore your energy
Around me. The thought of you
Dances around in my head
Like my last marble, playing pinball with
My insecurities and confidences,
Scoring, then dropping, being
Thrusted back out, making PINGS and
PONGS, and my knees weak. I love taking
Care of you, between all your cares taken of
Me. By Odin, I love you, my one true
Man.*
Woman, you turn down all other
Volumes, leaning back with eyes closed
When I read for you. Naming me poet,
But I see now; there's not a medium in
This world you cannot tame and utilize.
I've painted with you, now write with me.
You are a rock star superwoman.
All I can teach you, is that attitude.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 4:01 AM UTC
His beautiful complexity is difficult,
Confuses me; my neurotic inner child
Wants to be beaten or serenaded,
It doesn't understand many-layered things;
His whispered confidences, less alienating
Than others, made me trust too soon,
And his atoms, more colorful than
His brothers painted-on coats.
My being turns all around his center;
My wheels to his drum,
My arc to his sun,
Laughter when he's coming,
Cries when he's gone-
Till I'm reduced-
Subtracted-
Done.
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 11:46 AM UTC
Before too long I'm gonna go away.
I'll walk the unswept streets and the humid heats
In the uncleaned city of L.A.
There are things I'm sure I'll break as I make my way;
Laws and promises, hearts and confidences--
That's the sad way we work today.
My heart'll find its home out in the West,
In the form of a man who will enclose my hands,
And he'll spill all his words out and digress.
We'll have four children, then never get our rest,
And we'll apologize when they finally find out that
Mothers do not always know best.
The sun will stain our skin,
And then illness can take us, our treatments will break us,
And we might not ever be whole again.
Then we'll never know
If there will always be borders and pain and disorders
And longing and fences to slip below.
Our children will grow old after we die,
While we sleep in the ground with our roots all around
Or our ashes will wade through the deep sky,
And they will miss our lives, and so will I,
But they'll think of when we walked the unswept streets
And we tucked in their sheets
And they'll smile while they cry.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
Wisps of fog dragged
upon the ground, as errant
raindrops bided gray time.
Eyes fixed afield, sharing
an inertness that revitalized
our gray matter.
Robins and blackbirds scattered
their weightless will upon the
damp field.
As nearly imperceptible twinges of
sunlight interrupted the air, then
vanished.
This occurred in confidences, everytime the sunlight gained
upon itself.
The fog began burning off in
decrepid scraps...put asunder
by the field's thundering
anticipation.
The fog was lifted to spring's hierarchies of light...as blackbirds
electrified puddles in a flurry of
wings.
Spraying droplets of water
adorning the sunlight, then flying to
a favored branch shaking dry.
Eyes fixed afield, I was showered below
by accolades of rebirth.
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
online avatars
inkhearts - joined by a love of rhyme
multi coloured pearls on guitar strings
melodies unraveling
whispered confidences sung aloud
revealing the gifts inside
glad I am to be the receiver
-Vijayalakshmi Harish
19.11.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 4:26 AM UTC
Confidences
were something we shared, but then,
Secrets are nothing per sè...
Confidence
was a thing that I'm lacking, but that
Never stopped me, anyway...
I pressed you, you starved me,
It was wrong, but it couldn't be helped.
I said some things that I don't quite recall
You said a few things yourself.
It was a ridiculous assumption, and god **** it*,
You're right.
Forgive me if I don't always hear your advice,
Or look away from the truth.
I'm still listening, I swear it.
I'm afraid you might think I'm just here for your ***
Or afraid you might think that I'm boring and dull.
I'm just beginning to learn that others perceptions,
Are all, as they should be,
well beyond my control,
But, still...
Your eyes of ocean depth see me,
I want you to speak my name.
Searching all my cliches in the dark,
Forgetting the lies from which we came.
But what if all my words are true?
What if they show me the way?
What if the light between oceans is thought,
And words sufficient to make you stay?
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
She wears her in many different styles and likes short dresses. She wears bright colors in clothing and makeup. She is full of sass and laughter. She likes to make a splash with her wit and her smile. She gets attention where ever she goes, but is never dull or boring. She offers a warm hand and support to any friend in need. She personifies the confidences that her parents taught her, all the while exuding *** appeal. She loves to wear heels as often as she can, she loves to know she was watched as she walks by. She will wink an blow you a kiss if you are luck. She will leave you speechless if you catch her eye.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC
A slow skull, but steady
as four pull by in unison,
the river readies me for another day
with current confidences
quietly spoken
In comparison, the busy chat
of small brown birds seems rude,
but cheek and charm
forgive a lot
if not all
It’s to the bees I’ll look
for industry this Sunday,
though if their lead will be followed
is yet to be decided
Jun 20, 2021
Jun 20, 2021 at 5:05 AM UTC
Constant reassurances
That make up most of my confidences
Veils and layers
Of half-feigned fearlessness
Masking the worry
That I am not as carefree
As I make out to be
I do not know
What I hide
Inside
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 11:10 PM UTC
Simin
Different doesn’t necessarily mean better.
Your violence, a misconstrued cry for attention and love.
Every road, no matter how long and expansive, leads to an end.
Your ignorance is only feigned bliss,
for the certainty of failure is a known warrantee for unrest,
the illusion of peace.
The demonstration of confidences shattered,
Like withering plant stems.
The misunderstood, the figurative unbeliever,
The needy, abandoned like leaves buried beneath the white of the winter.
The only answer to our extensive quests? Ding, ding, ****
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
Something once so sweet,
has turned oh so sour.
Past confidences and trust,
now used to exploit and gain power.
Using each other to survive.
Although each one is abused,
neither can die.
Each month becomes tougher,
for one to thrive the other must suffer.
He is now weak and he is lonely.
False memories of happiness
induce feelings of regret.
He now lacks purpose,
he now lacks sense.
She recognizes his agony and remembers the pain.
She provides minimal attention to barely keep him sane.
No room in a heart that has used up all its tears.
Conditioned to resist through past abandonment and fear.
He takes what she gives him,
although lacking satisfaction.
If only he could break down her walls, and once again, find true attraction.
Embarrassed and discouraged,
passion twists to resentment.
As the anger harbors,
he becomes independent.
He breaks away,
in need of a more gracious host.
She was almost ready,
she was so close.
In panic,
she cracks,
Her barriers fall apart.
What if that was the last chance she had to reopen her heart.
She is weak, she is lonely.
Unrealistic dreams twist her previous intents.
She loses all purpose.
She loses all sense.
Power hungry he basks,
in his temporary independence.
While she yearns,
she begs,
for more sufficient attention.
Her hopes diminish.
Despair exchanged for rage.
As her dependency falters,
his power wanes.
Stuck again he wants her.
He needs her to feel alive.
She won’t give up control,
she holds tight to a fake pride
They both chase that high.
The adrenaline of that first kiss.
An unattainable sensation,
that is entertained through a string
of if onlys’ and what ifs?
The cycle is vicious,
will it ever cease?
This is not love,
it is a parasitic disease.
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 1:32 AM UTC
I have medicine.
Am being kept alive by progress.
Little pills like droplets of pale blue
Doctor-nectar.
I have been inside women so beautiful
I nearly gave up
Ghost.
Their confidences were instruments
Of classical composers.
The creative pleasure of the
Universe manifested. Aesthetics. Pure.
Their bodies were salty
Words longing to be
Poetry.
They did it.
Made flesh immortal.
My hands were dead upon them; my
Heart skipped beats in the name of
Glossiness.
Twig fingers upon dead silicone.
And I grew around their hearts
Like a tree around a graveyard light post;
Watered with tears and appreciated at times
When any
Grieving heart throws itself at anything
Beautiful and
Rigid.
For something.
I know love.
It tickles and hurts.
And I know death.
They're related.
Sisters separated at birth.
I know Poetry.
She says to Death and Love:
*Do you guys have the
Other two
Thirds of
This
Medallion?*
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC