"dalia" poems
Its all just words
No faces
No looks, no clothes, no smell
A simple connection
It could have been anybody
But it wasn’t
It started off as a hobby
Something to keep boredom at bay
By now you’re junior olympics... At least
It can be as flawless as beach glass
Or jagged
and farspread like the trees still dieing
I never know what to expect
Excitement
Misunderstanding
Seriousness
Interest
Laughter
Understanding
Awkwardness
Distracted
An idea
... Clearly I could continue
It’s like my little escape hole
A therapist that Actually understands and wants to
We just click
Alined by the sun
Some would say
But I dunno if that’s true
All I know is what I feel
Should I not feel what I feel?
Do I feel what I feel?
Is what I feel real?
Or is it fake
Is it a lie?
Or should I make it one
I don’t know what’s best
How can I
I’m new at this remember
All I know are the words of the known
Who are unknown to me in one world
And an empty chair in the next
I sit down and wait patiently
Until it’s finally my turn, here is where I’ll sit
There is no shame finding comfort in the little things the chair offers
Its smooth silky surface
The wine stain down the middle
the dots that resemble a smile in the corner
You don’t forget what you know so well
You open up your palm
A baby snake inside
He doesn't take it
He doesn't **** it on the spot
He doesn't grimace with disgust
He doesn't burst out in laughter
He picks it up
and cradles it in his hands
And sets it free
Back into the world where it belongs
And then he gives you a dalia
You take it and tuck it behind his ear as something to be admired
He blushes
He needs you too
Maybe
But its real
Almost too real
So you push it away
It’s impossible
It might not even be close to what you think it might be
Forget
And stay silent
Hey
We start again
A haha here
A smiley face too
Climbing up the uncertain mountain that has never been climbed before
The chance of falling high
But you like the chase
And for now
It’s enough
You don’t really care if you summit anyway
A possible “when”
always dangling
Inside the clouds
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 3:15 AM UTC
Mental debates of moving on and
Leaving the past, she dreams
Of working things out to make
Them last, she’s all too familiar
With solitude, its wonders,
Its dedication to her companionship
They walk hand in hand
Looking, staring at silhouettes, still vivid
and bright as the day that she first opened
Her eyes to Dalia smirks, truly hurt
She watches in awe
As he carefully places
The pieces to the puzzle of
A black and white field
Strategies flow easily from behind
The dam that is a set of porcelain eyes
Sworn to secrecy only for self fulfillment
Along the checkered floor she explored
Boundaries she had never encountered
He leads her as his pawn of choice
Through torturous escapades against
Rookie creatures and staggering Horsemen
They wane on her chances of successfully
Obtaining the crown of glory
He pushes her forward with a touch
Soft and soothing, no reason
To doubt his reasoning
She gives up the greatest of gifts, trust
In his hands she quietly moves
With no complaints, forward
Out toward a troublesome mine field
With every space she’s placed in
She’s laced with waste traced with her Demise,
he plays the creator,
How humorous it seems
The slightest sense of secure attachment
Provides a false sense of security
The way he touches her persuades
Her he’ll never let her fall
In his embrace she doesn’t see
The smirk of disgust as his face
Twisted, wretched and gruesome
Grins at the only pleasure she provides him
Empty bliss he can only wish to fill
His grasp, once tender and warm
Clenches down on her with splintering pain
With silent screams of despair
She comes closer to her peril
Glimmering crown, in the scope of her sight
The only sense of hope left in her mind
The next move can be her last
With only hopes of a clear road
As he once again guides her
Calm and steady with the kindness
He once displayed when she
Naïvely dreamt of how her life
Truly should become
Her struggles slowly ease away
From the pain she once felt
Never showed it even in the
Biggest battles he lead her through
Now she lay motionless alongside her
Fallen obstacles in complete darkness
Six cold silent walls surround
Her in her slumber until another
Cruel puppeteer falls across
The coffin of demise and despair
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
It's your favorite flower
But still it doesn't have the power
To compare to your beauty
It has beautiful colors
But it doesn't show all your sorrows
It's isn't as multi colored as you are
You are my favourite star
But the dalia doesn't show what a lovely person you are
Even though you have got this far
There is a lot of things you have left to become a true silver star
You are my inspiration
You are my fascination
But most of all you are the one who made me who I am
My dalia loving Mother
Thank you
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 3:42 AM UTC
She had this distinctive odor;
a mixture of sweet and genuine love
with this intense passion.
But she was a stranger.
Merely a stranger
in a crowd of faceless people.
Who was she?
I just had to know.
Or at least her name.
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 4:57 PM UTC
I know it isn't ordinary
Aware it's not necessary
Not a typical routine
And something you may have never seen.
But today is my birthday
Something I do dare to share
Because I remember it well
I am not sure where I was born
Was it in Texas ? Was it Vermont?
Was I raised in Brooklyn County? Or maybe another country
But for sure I remember it well
The street where I lived was amused
Or was it the street of Hermon?
*** I am a little confused
Where I lived after I was born
But I remember it well.
I exchanged messages with *** the newsy,
Amalia and Dalia, Gallia and Talia
And Peter and Teddy, and Geter and Freddy
I met friends all over.
A poet, a lawyer, nice pictures, and posters
Young friends, sweet babies and also proud mothers
I remember it well
So Happy Birthday to me,
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
123456789
68747889392020292
92829299988888888
because that's how numbers
work.
I was back at my job
standing in the toy section
for little girls
there was this label
for a disney princess toy
it was labelled
"SPECIAL ***
DP
$19.99"
and I had this rock hard
******** thinking about
double ***********
***** that triple.
every hole oh my god.
right they're between the legos
and hello kitty.
there was a splash and I
awoke. the nurse was standing
in front of me with
a
bucket in her hand.
the mask was off now and
I could see that her head was
completely shaved balled.
both eyes were replaced with
cybernetic lenses, looking
like unblinking insect eyes.
I couldn't feel my arms or
legs.
-that's because we took them
she said
took them?
-yeah. cut them off. they're hanging over there. she pointed
and there they were speared
on meat hooks dangling
from the ceiling like dried
flowers.
I looked at my new stumps
they were patched at the
ends with stemcell bandages
looking like a cross between hamburger
and peat moss.
why would you do that?
-it was part of the procedure. she
didn't think you needed them
anymore
she?
-dalia.
my girlfriend.
oh my god im going to ******* puke
-not possible. we took out your stomach too.
WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?
-a girl's gotta work aye?
she flipped the bucket over
and sat down in it, crossing her legs high. she smiled, without
showing teeth. a big smile like she
was barely containing a laugh.
combined with the lenses
the effect was that of
a praying mantis preparing
to take down a sparrow.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 6:39 PM UTC