"cottoned" poems
All those love songs.
What is the point?
Get to the point of all of this.
This love that I have to give, I cannot give,
Because nobody wants it.
It holds me back like a world on my back;
At last I think I can just relax
And then it all comes crashing down…
I am flattened into the ground,
Forever falling,
Forever falling,
Forever falling further now.
Now I see a light shining up from beneath,
But it is just a place to be.
Just to exist.
Just to be left waiting, in purgatory,
Leaves me contemplating, forwards or backwards,
There is no difference.
I am inclined to never try again,
But then my stupid heart kicks in with its two cents,
For what it’s worth…
I feel so worthless and helpless, when I think about her.
Her beautiful mind is what I hoped to find,
But all I ever get in this life is lie after lie
And I am denied, so I lie down to cry or sing,
Those sweet songs of misery.
Those love songs that go on and on,
About how she will be loved…
But I have cottoned on;
They are just plain wrong!
All those love songs,
She will never hear me sing…
All those songs.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 7:26 AM UTC
~
*a secret-possessor, a poetess of riddles,
informs, but my senses don't conform,
claiming that in my possess,
a gift ensconced, a soulfulness harbored,
purportedly outing me as "one gifted soul"
~
this "gift" of cobbled together phrases, on the back of
paper napkins,
words impermanent, undeserving of the firmamen
of cottoned cloth,
they shall not be mourned, when forever lost,
for like my soul, but a fleeting glimpsed visitor,
a 100 year comet, naturally self-destructing,
intended to be witnessed but once in a lifetime
~
wincing at this dear praise, yet it serves me well,
as the sweetest reminder, that we shall all yet meet,
all on that day, all in that place,
from where souls are gifted and returned,
however shopworn
or even disgraced
~
all welcomed upon our inevitable return, no proof of purchase needed,
where, living forever, in such good company is a
certain surety,
knowing this, that we are all certainly possessed with this relief,
easy then, in agreement, every each, born in fluid from the belly of belief,
each of us
"a gifted soul"*
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC
Bleeding earth,
Of motioning limbs,
praying to the tethered sunset,
wooden seasons snubbed,
abandoned and slathered,
Between almost everywhere,
Unnamed and shrub covered,
Something found in the endless,
plain and comprehended,
Civility manifested,
cottoned on to,
scratched out with plastic implements,
roaring blood cascading,
mechanical timidity,
tongues are on a journey,
naked and dead.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC
business Friday that ISIS took control
Husayba sometime around
I tell you Love Ramadi Habbaniya
non leader. and meters) east of Ramadi
and about women soon cottoned on
evil and the good lesser gunfire
occasion of his I email my teachers
Rabbit of their day; a toy that you are
doing more group's latest push east
since the Dalai Lama their words
actually led to facilitate some good
old if you love those estone that a US
State most intract ARTICLE b in her
response wrote that they appeared
who love what seized the key city of
finally used to pleasure do not even
Pagans do departmental official
acknowledged defeat ISIS Geisha
Burmese ***** heighten the pleasure
our righteousness in front of others
to be seen executed people in the street
whom Lama's compassionate approach
teaching on what to do by evening
no reward from your Father in heaven,
do not announce it during *** with
trumpets heading towards Palmyra
Heavenly father is perfect the streets
to be honoured by others compassion
and call to action went supernova
Ben Wa ***** background in cognitive.
remember to give thanks more efforts.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
We began as two lost souls floating in the air,
unwarily aware waiting to be united,
who could or would ever stop to think,
that I’d be the one to spend your entire life with,
A beautiful piece of flesh, heaven scented
God graced with a beauty that sparked,
strings on her eyelashes reciting melodies
to which became the song to our hearts,
She polishes my skin with her cottoned touch,
Drenched in delicacy ,softened with lost love,
Our lips bonded together like street riots,
echoing strong yet calm enough to seal my lips quiet,
Our eyes gaze ever last without once becoming sore,
I am not the man of your dreams wishing woman,
Yet you’re everything I dream t for,
And you know that I know that you know,
that I know that we both know this is true,
by the looks of you I fear your expectations
I lie down asking myself what I can offer you,
What would someone with so much soul and prestige
be doing loving and spending her whole life with me,
In all honestly, my life with you I visualized it,
God sent you here for me, the feeling I can't describe it,
Waves splash of matched personalities,
we dived and drowned in the ocean of chemistry,
your clutched hands rubber band my destiny,
cliche it seems, yet I truly believe that you were meant for me,
I daydream about you while typing Z's in my speech bubble,
wondrous, anxious, joyful, for we fit in place like a perfect puzzle,
imperfect I lie, yet perfect through your eyes to see,
eager to share with you my love that's deeper than eternity,
Deaf to knowing inside your heart is where our future lied,
a God gifted life from the skies who was made to be my wife ,
my burning heart lit with love for that only yearns for she,
eternally knowing that her loves shared with no one but me.
-Shahrukh Zamir c)2013
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
The good looking kids NEVER have pimples!
Have you noticed... How the Banks ALWAYS back the big money?
Have you cottoned on.. To the fact that the VERY RICH always come out on top?
Surely you have twigged to just how easily the BEAUTIFUL girls get the very best of everything?
How about that LAST table in the restaurant? Has the ordinary guy got a shot?
When was the last time you saw a POLITICIAN back a little guy?
Notice how the Priest smiles WIDEST when the Wealthy contribute to the plate?
Who gets the BEST DEAL when they buy a new car?
Preferential treatment at Casinos...Free this, free that....?? The SUPER RICH!
Complimentary tickets to the game?..FAT CATS!
...and who wins the armchair ride to Heaven????
...THE WELL HEELED BUGGERS WHO CAN AFFORD THE TICKET!
So should we, the habitually poor, deprived, ugly sector of society... Feel shortchanged ?
.....or should we be smugly aloof in our tolerated, noble deprivation?
**SHORTCHANGED YOU ******** AND THE DAY OF RECKONING IS NIGH!**
Marshalg
Just a bit of fun.
11 February 2013
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
And then one day, I looked up and said, I wanna be like them.
Like those big white pillow puffs from mass bodies of water that roll across the sky like kids up top hills.
Carefree.
Do those clouds care that their short lives will be dragged down by pollution and dirt into sewage drains full of **** and ****
Or water reservoirs reserved for thirsty plants and cottoned mouths; some desperate for their demise, while others never even noticing?
Or
Do the thunders not resemble their screams and cries?
Is lightening not a contest between the panicked nimbus and stubborn mountain tops or city skyscrapers?
Is a clouds gray not it's sorrow?
Do sun-dogs not smile back?
What can be said about a cloud suspended over grassy plains after a summer storm?
As soft and still as a sleeping baby that wore itself out in a late night tantrum.
Perhaps my musings are misguided.
Are the lives of clouds really that much different?
Perhaps not.
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 5:08 PM UTC
Following fog from foreign lands--
sleep still etched,
dreams yet sketched to form.
Muffled clouds of shuffling sounds
submerged in deep & cottoned ears.
Grasping at whispered edges,
interrupted slivers dissipate & scatter.
Perforating an entombed quiet,
almost-noises punctuate the night
with cold finality.
Memories put on hold resurface,
conquering attention.
Dread sets in:
you are lost all over again.
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
Each year, each winter, each time
the first snow falls
familiar feelings fall with it.
Clean, dense white traverses
heaven to earth.
All covered, cottoned and calm,
I stand watching,
muted now as earth,
sure, silent and certain
as my own inevitable death.
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 3:36 PM UTC
She was a raggered haggered cat
Who caught them thistles in the air
And she gave all that she got
To cause a ruckus and a scare
But when she cottoned on to Elvis' stick
With his velvet thickened hair
She grabbed more than she should've caught
In one fell swoop and snare
Lost all flavour with that candied name
Tossed her future with her flare
Now just a glorified rat
A scandal for all who care
She skirts around the lights and hides where others might
But wouldn't dare
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 8:07 AM UTC
at how does gleam the cherry **** of your cylindric pertness–lips–i beco
me me in two folds of self on each one pressed the drooping brand of y
our hands stings to cooly touch with the unhinging of cottoned hurt
ing in when the sun suddenly of gradual imperceptible dying revo
lves on the apex of youth its own immortal youth; such dreams a
s magic become the ethereal toyness of your wrists that fleetly
stagger of whiteness with substance wholly girl with two
******* wine for a mouth and darkness for hair even
the night is jealous at their fibers and remarks with
disturbed violence a shower of stars to mark
its brunt, its curling of tight fingers into
fists of foisted heating)
(there
such
brightness
is a circle within
A circle of
tingling bruteness
you have liked me
to be between your
smart ****** of cherry
pertness–
LIPS
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
It was the morning after
A long and snowy night,
I looked outside the window,
And beheld a wondrous sight.
The world was still and silent,
Not a human soul in sight,
No bird was flying, nothing stirred,
All just silently white.
Rooftops, trees and gardens all,
Layered with snow so high,
Cottoned flakes still drifted down,
Softly, gently, from the sky.
Stillness wove its charming spell,
The silence shared its peace,
If all this beauty will survive,
I can pass my days with ease.
Jan 28, 2022
Jan 28, 2022 at 4:50 AM UTC
Even the biggest fool
would have cottoned on years ago
that its design to create emotional destabilisation
which in turn could exacerbate stress and fuel depression
creating a feeling of constant irritability and anxiety
all one should state at this junction
with sublime grace and aplomb
and the usual wisecrack....cheeky
'Man, its great to be underestimated'
As they say in the Army
No battle plan ever survived first contact with the enemy
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 8:34 AM UTC