"coulds" poems
One day, all of the 'coulds' will change into 'cants'.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
Mind over matter,
Don't mind the things that don't matter,
Don't let negative thoughts make your confidence shatter,
Let's get personal on a stranger level,
See what I did there?,
I see what you did where,
Where you pretend to be victim to your mind living unaware,
Sometimes I seems like you don't know you're pretending,
Spiraling down a scary path your descending,
Seems like this rabbit hole is never ending,
Like I said before its all mind over matter,
In wonderland your the queen, the cat, and the mad hatter,
It's doesn't matter your gender your still Alice,
Chasing this cheese loosing this rat race,
Theres a way out you just transcend gravity,
Look to the coulds take a walk with me,
The easy way up is I guess to take the ladder,
Or you could jump,
Its all mind over matter.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
As i brush the hair from my face
i see it, in a reflection.
tiny whispers of past dreams,
a beacon, a calling.
Hold on, i may be falling
straight through this life
and down to yours.
its funny the things you think of in times like these
i don't think i coulds say please
any more than i do.
i just want you home
before this thought fades
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 3:44 PM UTC
*The story has gotten old,
A million times been told,
Just the journey of a broken heart,
From desperation to a new start,
The halo and the magical wings,
Seemed like an angel mending broken strings,
Counting the 'could nots' and 'coulds',
Finally got out of the dark woods,
There were trials, the loss, the misplay,
But in the end ,there was victory ,no despair*
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 6:54 AM UTC
Did you think about me
When you walked into the woods
Did you think about your family
Or only of the shoulds?
Knife in your hand
Did you think about how life isn't fair?
Ready to take your stand
Did you not think your kids would care?
Blade to your stomach
Did you feel the pain?
Already making your summit
Was my love just in vain?
Blade to your chest
Did you stutter at all?
Did you realize you were committing theft?
Then you began to fall
Blade to your wrist
Did your life flash before your eyes?
Not even for a split
Second, did you think about how we would cry?
Blade to your neck
How did you do it?
You turned our lives awreck
Then you made the final slit
As you laid on the ground
As your blood soaked that leaf
Did you make a final sound?
Or were you content with your relief?
As we searched in the woods
We prayed for you
And we thought of the coulds
Our heart turned blue
Then we got the news
They found your body
People began to accuse
Us of your death, oddly
Time went by
And our grief remained
Now we look to the sky
Whenever you are named
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 10:02 PM UTC
don't rush the morning
it's too soon or
too early & we're always passing something (along or)
i'm hanging, hating coulds
fighting to find just being alright again
it's July already
a bird will fly across your view or through a thought
& you won't think about me or linens or anything;
& sometimes i'd rather be the burning thing
between the horizon and the clouds
when the sun sets
than this
i'd rather be quiet
cause you're calling vacation what i call patience and i don't know summer at all anymore
i'm mourning weather
i'm dressed in memory
the lavender is almost gone and
it's almost time I went back home for a while
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 1:49 PM UTC
Beneath roaming white coulds of the morning time,
A boy can find his joy without costing him a dime.
He looks innocently at the coulds
Around which the golden lines are drawn
By the smiley shiny sun in the sky
Who kills darkness of the night
With his inspiring golden light.
The sumless clouds he sees in a glance
Make his naive heart happily dance
For what he sees are not just the clouds.
On that majestic sky,
A Beagle chases after the other one
Until catching the tail is done.
They combine into a plane flying to nowhere.
But the boy manages to think of the destination,
And he says his wishes to the plane.
Before the plane is gone into an enormous cloud,
He joyfully shouts out loud
"Yes! That must be the destination!"
-Kryde N.B. Richmond
4/10/2013
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
it’s a pen of bulls in your stomach
the wonder, the not-knowing, the what-ifs, whens coulds and might-bes
the numbers on an oxygen tank dwindling down
too many thoughts becoming their own creatures,
tearing down cities that we carry inside
it’s leaves shivering from an island wind,
the people running away from shore
that moment when you slip on ice and you don’t know if you’ll catch yourself
it’s dying, not knowing where you’ll go
and space, not comprehending how vast
counting all the possibilities in the universe and only thinking
about the most horrific ones
some of us always live in worst case scenarios
and i,
have not yet mastered the art of surviving them.
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 8:25 PM UTC
Black boxes.
Smell of delicate decay
like kindling first catching fire.
Pigeons bathing in the gutter
glitter and iridescent feathers
covered in the banal bile of boys,
their insides strewn on the ground.
Fire ant mound,
stepping on those was my childhood.
Coulds and woulds and shoulds
creating those is my adulthood.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 9:40 PM UTC
I glaze a look at the street, from
our apartment window.
You are coming slowly, teetering
one leg in front other, with back slightly hunched forward,
burdened with sleepless nights and yesterday’s undones.
Vibrant spirit once you had is lost, tossed among crowded
train wagons, useless meetings and broken deadlines.
One vein in the left corner of your forehead, swells, pulses in the rhythm
of your dark, fuddled thoughts as unremitting, sprouting baldness
reflects evening lights.
Still, I smile,
for you are here, with me in all this madness
we call life, half diced with wants and haunts that braid
every tomorrow we greet together.
I would like to put you in a different frame, picture of
nor “Yeses” nor “Nos”,
just us, being us, each moment celebrating
without lamenting for what “ifs” or “shoulds” and “coulds”.
Still, I smile,
as I watch you battle your restless leg syndrome,
wrestling to sooth demanding expectations,
lifted bars for higher remunerations, in constant marathon
of best comparison,
for you care, you dare.
I take your hand with eyes of approval,
life’s ****** and gigolette,
ready to play each day’s illusive roulette.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 5:23 AM UTC
Torrents of rushing crowds,
Blankets of noiseless sound
Hidden under the lush, lush breeze,
Riding the scent of fallen trees
Swarming round all of panic
Drowning out all of the pain
Hoping for recognition,
Knowing someone knows your name.
Sinking in cracks of the famous
Living in dust of the bold
Shadowing lights of the lime
Learning it’s never your time.
Etching your name in the skyline
Reaching but falling so short
Walking when you should be crawling
The ball never lands in your court.
Trying to follow the river
Straining to the see the bright star
Always living up, up in the coulds
But hidden under the cold cut shoulds
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 12:04 AM UTC
***
Rivers flow endlessly
Eternally joining land and sea
They flow and they fade
Drifting steadily
Roaring incoherently
In the deep channels they made
*
Glittering lights in the night sky
They shimmer and they twirl
Dancing elatedly in grace
The sun is born, and then they die
No longer now do they whirl
By light, fireflies are replaced
*
Whispering, whistling
Rustling leaves
Floating in through windows
And over the seas
The cold is then brought
In with the breeze
*
Grey appears, shimmering
On the horizon
Here comes the sun
Night is now done
Light now has won
Few shadows remain, flickering
*
Red, yellow, gold
As the coulds foretold
A great light now appears
Over the land, it lears
Purple, orange, blue
Sunrise; almost through
*
And still rivers rush
Ripple and roar
Disregarding all in the sky
And that which happens onshore
They never cared, and never will
If sunshine shines no more
***
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 5:26 AM UTC
In the dark of night I see her
In the shadows of night she lingers
Eyes piercing the smoke of yesterdays dreams
Stabbing the life out of my lungs
With the nightmare of truth
With the longing for honor
With the screaming memories
Not of what used to be
But of used-to-coulds
When she appears
All that is left is the grit at the bottom of the cup of life
The leftover flavor of dreams gone by
The reality that I am not what I could have been
That dreams torture reality with rainbows and lullabies
With pastel hues of perfection
In the dark of night I see her
In the shadows of night she lingers
The girl I almost was
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
Aren't you getting drowsy?
From that rubber feeling being smudged inside
With the white lies, you're trying to hide
And answers that you cannot find
Human Pacifier
You feed them hope, you feed them glory
You feed them joy, even their exigency
You give your lasts and your entirety
Did they do the same?
Of course, they detect
That you're holding unto a Placebo Effect
Knows you're stoic and benevolent
So they keep sending amenable threats
Someday, it will trigger you
Your aspired esteem and prisoned wounds
Where you realize you need to fulfill "you",
Erase the 'shoulds' and do 'coulds'
It's not your fault being so tolerant
It's meant to happen though it's not meant to stay
It's not your duty to be the second hand
Just to be used and strayed
Recognize your worth
You must know when to leave the table
When you feel like being disabled,
Guard your heart and guard your castle
Because prevention is better than cure
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 7:16 AM UTC
Sometimes it's better to sit and wait;
there's too much weight on the strings
in that mind of mine.
I've seen too much. (too fast)
I haven't sat long enough
to make any of it last.
(You've ran past.)
I've spent a night in the woods;
laying on a bench, looking at
meteors,
thinking of the coulds and shoulds.
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 11:29 AM UTC
If I could I would,
fly across this world,
through the sky and clouds,
never looking down.
I would swim with the breeze,
and ride with the waves,
not a care in the world,
not a care I say.
I could be free like a bird,
sing with the angels,
or sit with the graves,
not saying a word.
I could smile like the sun,
and dance like a fire,
but my "coulds" and "woulds" are "can'ts",
for I am alive,
and I cannot Retire.
Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 9:47 PM UTC
If I could
I would take my smile and place it on your lips when you're harvesting your sadness
If I could
I would take my blood red heart and plant it in your chest just so you could feel rejuvenated
If I could
I would take all of my hidden secrets and showcase them to you when you think you have it awful
But I'm only able to do these things
if
You let me love you.
So let things curve towards this check list
and don't be afraid of the happiness around the corner
because
If I could
I would love you
I would take away all your known pain.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Should be using this pilfered and minimal wifi
and, man, it seems that time does fly...
while I'm procrasti-time-wasting reading bad (well, most of it) poetry.
You see I'm used to feeling like I've missed the boat
and shown my hand and slit my own **** throat...
"It's his own fault."
How terrifying and amazing (faux)freedom is...
blood and water and choices.
Life is frosted and sort of sleeping
but not shivering
enduring.
It's too bad I identify with the grasshopper more than the ant.
I can't be bothered with preparation
because Right Now.
Right Now is full of hows and whys and whens
and so many that depend
upon shoulds and coulds and ifs
and I-need-to-make-a-lists.
It seems that I prefer the anxiety of what could be
to what is.
Control freak.
Sitting here, with my cold nose and sore bones
and more than my usual non-layer of clothes
with two very interesting up-past-their-bedtime individuals
there is no regret.
It is, and it isn't, over yet.
Supposing pity isn't the word choice,
how else would you say, "I feel for you,"
without that voice?
And even saying it is a choice I'd rather not make.
That's the thing about leaving the cage and toeing the line and finding the road...
there is no map.
You can either enjoy the journey
or feel like, "It's a trap."
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC
so many shoulds
and so many coulds
not many ares
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 5:45 AM UTC
when you ask me to be your friend when you ask me to sit with you those are the moments i feel enough
when there is only quiet and the sound of your breathing and all this noise inside of me goes away those are the moments where the silence demands confession
when i am walking with you and we are alone and the journey ends before it should those are moments i wish your hand wasn't a trespass zone of if-i-coulds
when i miss you more than you know and i wish you could - those are moments maybe telling you would be the lesser evil
these are moments when the i love yous
deafen rage and scream - but they never will be loud enough for you
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
I love the flowers, I love the trees.
I love the mountains, I love the seas.
I love the darkness, I love the light.
I love the morning, I love the night.
I love the silence, I love the noise.
I love the struggle, I love the choice.
I love the ending, I love the start.
I love the knowledge, I love the heart.
I love the grave's end, I love the first.
I love the greatest, I love the worst.
I love the couldn'ts, I love the coulds.
I love the evil, I love the good.
For the world would not be what it is--
If one of these things should ne'er exist.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
The way our story ended
paved way for imagining 99 other ways
our story could have ended
We could have aged together until 80
and then one day our angels would have guided us on to our next journey
hinting at the seven lives that we wrote.
We could have ended it with a cup of chai
in a desi tea kadai,
with the traffic jam playing out a perfect background score
Or at a 'women only' metro platform, with a hug lasting for many decades
We could have written a book together and parted following the launch
and then could have met again for the sequel and then gone different ways for differences in the plot
Or read a book together and taken sides and be stubborn with a specific perspective
and be okay with our respective choices
and then bid goodbye
with a laugh over all the sweating over small stuff and the distances that brought us together
We could have dressed well for one last picture in a hall that's decorated with orchids,
just to make sure that some dreams are real and that we must dream despite everything
Or at a panda lecture, after moments of clapping over a memorable speech, spelling end in different ways
Leaving space for a potential sequel, like the mindful directors in the Hollywood, bollywood and the other woods.
We could have also stayed and waited for his end to embrace us
Or we could have just slammed doors on each other so that it would hurt less,
But, we choose sweet messages
for God knows why!
After all this time, we know that life doesn't run on coulds, but floats on is.
Like the clouds that pass,
Ever changing into different forms
From being one in the now, to being two in the next.
Reminding me of the cloud story we left behind unfinished
Reminding me of the panda tale that's still sitting idle, waiting for its writers to serve some food
We could have served the hungry panda, and then ended the story
The panda story,
The cloud story
And our story
But, we ended because we had to!
For this world needs us
to do what we need to
before everything else.
Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 8:31 AM UTC
what will you do?
what will you think?
when
the
time
comes.
what will you do?
what will you think?
when
then
time
comes
to do anything.
you've never really done a ******* thing
and you've never really thought about it,
you've never really ever made a single choice
that every really meant a thing,
or had a
consequence.
keep on coasting
keep on treading
and the weight of all
those woulds coulds and shoulds
will pull you down
drag you under,
make you drown
make you drown.
this is the time
this is the thunder
you are the strike
you are the violence
a stab in the dark
to cut through the blindness
the storm is upon you
if you're not a part of it
it'll tear you asunder
let the rain wash you down
let yourself feel electric
cause you are the strike
you are the violence
the pulse of the fight
the howl in the night
you are the current
that's bringing this
world back to life.
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 5:01 PM UTC