"deadend" poems
the world is just starting to seem real
clay in a firmer state
studier but harder to mold
and i am still trying to shape it in my hands
without getting it under my nails
... something,
something under my nails
clambering for something to hold onto
anxiety racing, scratching, life catching up to me
why am i bleeding
why am i bleeding
this is supposed to be freeing
i guess i just
pick one of these lines
deeply clawed into my skin
paths like addict,
wash up,
footstool;
lives carefully planned for me since birth
i played trumpet in junior high
so that must mean i'll be a paralegal like my mama
regretting my love choices
regretting my life choices
wasting away at a job i hate
doing work i don't get credit for
destined to fade away lonely
but then again i've got my dad's bad habits
and twice his screaming spirit
so maybe i'll spend half my life in a bottle
and the other half trying to chase the dreams that i ****** away in my twenties
maybe i'll run all over creation
trying to be something bigger
someone stronger
yeah
that sounds about right
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 12:26 AM UTC
there is still jalapeno under my nails,
i know because i bite them.
i feel microcosmic
i feel macrocosmic
i feel that the night i knew you were > all the deadend wannabe artists with groomed hair and a knack for saying the wrong things at the right times
the moon was full as a curvy woman's hips
and i sleeplessly felt its caress through the sky the roof my heart
it carried me pieces of you
and they fit
people ask me if i'm madly in love with a smirk
people ask me what happens when it goes wrong
first loves die hard, they say
i don't know what happened to make everyone assume that
love is destined to be a ship lost at sea
my mom raised me to be tenacious
and darling,
you know it's true
Sep 24, 2011
Sep 24, 2011 at 3:46 PM UTC
plot out distances between freckles
and count the amount of hairs;
in a beauteous analysis
a cold witnessing
of)a featured lifeless gaze
projected onto windows
refracted in time with the pounding
from lost soulless ghouls
in a dank puddled basement
as we stare through keyholes
the length of life waits to rescind
to wash up on the shoreline
anew, once refreshed
with Angina on
wading in cyclic waves
in deposits of reveries
stale orangeade sonatas
and dull area tirades
the purpose
economized
every axiom
americanized
and as your atoms become depersonalized
tension is materialized, in ornate ivory
shattered brass instruments rusted by
novels written to god
in a
fractured light
and range
cramped in a curtailed distance
a brickwall deadend universe
gnashing with frustration
****** yawns of futility
closed viaducts
and vacant lots
deafened eyes, grey
glimmering in retort
to their own expression
blind sight was squandered by the snapback, of all the
strings of the orchestra as they were simultaneously snipped
by sharp prying eyes, listening to the mixing of paint
to smell the music, its arms limp, vivid
wishing to pull you back (in hindsight)
with dreaded, deadened incantations
a dithyrambic liturgy to the drunken thoughtless night
of slurred litanies and unappeasable, irascible deities
lonely and immaculate, all-powerless and deft
in irksome quarrels and arguments
glossed over by the fine print of another
exalting the vainglorious self-inscribed paragons
and revelling every inadmissible mistake
gazing past to a solo star
dumbstruck and dead
from an evaluation
and dehydration
dying to know
forget it.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 12:03 AM UTC
They say: we, humans, were born for reasons
then blinded for a reason was I?
or, muted for a reason was I?
intricately, not to see the beauty of the world's wonder
not to sing the melody of sweet rhythmic dulcet,
yet precious, perfect unique design
they call I am, God's special one.
I can't see I am, still
I can't say I am thus, still
I can't completely sense I am.
I move, yes, with freedom, a figment, though
yet imprisoned in an eggshell, my deadend
grave I had never.
May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 7:26 AM UTC
Ego was the monster that drove you from my arms or was it just another's charm.
It wasnt poetic simply one lights fade to yet another act in a much to dim lit sidewalk's scene.
If you go I wont care so many bitter words stand are refuge of pain togather we shared
it if only for a moment.
Maybe it was a nightmare made possible from a dream.
Maybe it was nothing more than a glimpse at what was never to be.
I closed that door now it seems a shame to view these scars yet once again.
Please dont ever let me leave you.
I recall you asked one of to many fargone nights embrace
I lie to say i could never recall.
Why did it seem like promises were empty as broken hearts games of the grown remain
evergreens of childs play.
Alone I allow you to invade my thoughts one last time.
Sunset from the shore always seemed empty just like are time togather.
Why must you haunt me still.
Watercolors fade still I recall that embrace.
Farewell my friend.
Pain is a burden to you no more.
Sometimes a turned shoulder is all thats left of a deadend street.
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC
could see the shadow from the corner of my eye
see them standing waiting by
could feel their presence wanting me
see there coldness needing me
could feel their looks just staring out
see their blood all red and loud
could feel their noise all over me
see their touch out grabbing me
from the corner of my eye i waited standing by
a shudder from way down low
a feeling time to go
a breath not taken yet from the smell of deadend flesh
as i blinked i gave a cry
a feeling deep inside
a time to look away
from the corner of my eye
Apr 13, 2011
Apr 13, 2011 at 9:20 PM UTC
There are days when the rage I prayed to dissipate somehow finds its way from the deep secluded corners of my brain and throws itself violently onto the blank pages of my notebook.
It's always on those days when I hear the Oceanside call my name but I refrain from seeing her because I am far too occupied with chipping myself away at this deadend job that doesn't provide the way that I need it to pay.
It's always on the days when I can't reach her shore that I ***** myself to this imitation of peace. To all the things I want but know it will never satisfy the need to feel that cool ocean breeze, the smell of seaweed and that saltwater against my feet.
There is no place in the valley for a boy who fell in love with the ocean and left his heart at sea.
Like can't you see that the only time I feel whole is when all the broken pieces that make up me is standing on that cliffside. Apart from filling out my blank pages and pouring my heart out onto these stages, that cliffside will always be home.
There is not a day that I'm away that I don't sit and think about the power of the waves. Do you ever think about the power of the waves? How they come in, crash and carry all of my burdens, pain and frustration away. God I just want to get away.
I will always sit up on that cliffside in a mystery as I gaze out upon your vast deep blue see and wonder how in the midst of my chaos, that you are somehow my peace.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
*As the sun blaze afloat,
She had accepted its heat, though not seeing the light,
While others had burned bright with the light,
She had perceived only the dark,
Even with her everyday quest,
Her memoir of struggling conquest,
She had conceived only the darkness
Though with her increased of enrichment
She had felt bewildered in all this blanket of nights,
Oh, she'd pray for a rest,
A port written of bless,
But as Daniel, they've withhold,
Her likes, they cry under the greed,
Option less, but the wait or the creed,
The choice to live according to decreed,
Or bend to their marks of greed,
But for her tis a no,
They ought to know,
Fate gonna reach their doors,
The happiness of the dew,
Had been known only to the few,
Enough! is enough
But remembered clockwise,
It said let there be light,
And there was a light for all,
Hers is just a nightfall,
Soon! The sun gonna greet her good morning,
And the moon will bid you good night,
So keep sermonizing the lies,
Be the greed with the dice,
Or the person you so portrayed,
She pray mercy upon your soul,
To gain a world and loose a soul,
Oh, she'd laughed you poor,
For not all road leads to happy endings,
Some lead to a dead end.*
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 6:48 AM UTC
Sew your ideals behind your ear and stitch your wishes above your heart
Beware you'll never get what you want
The flames will blow out before the candles even lit
Hold on my friend your speeding towards a deadend
Light always casts shadows but shadows never see the light
Choking on pride because it's to hard to swallow gets you nowhere fast
Open your lungs
Cool your flustered cheeks
If you rant till your lips are numb the things worth hearing flutter out mute
Swallow your swollen pride
For it has not a use but to bruise the inflated ego
Walking handstands on raw palms while longing for a spotlight that has been burned out for years
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 11:53 AM UTC
plot out distances between freckles
and count the amount of hairs;
in a beauteous analysis
a cold witnessing
of)a featured lifeless gaze
projected onto windows
refracted in time with the pounding
from lost soulless ghouls
in a dank puddled basement
as we stare through keyholes
the length of life waits to rescind
to wash up on the shoreline
anew, once refreshed
with Angina on
wading in cyclic waves
in deposits of reveries
stale orangeade sonatas
and dull area tirades
the purpose
economized
every axiom
americanized
and as your atoms become depersonalized
tension is materialized, in ornate ivory
shattered brass instruments rusted by
novels written to god
in a
fractured light
and range
cramped in a curtailed distance
a brickwall deadend universe
gnashing with frustration
****** yawns of futility
closed viaducts
and vacant lots
deafened eyes, grey
glimmering in retort
to their own expression
blind sight was squandered by the snapback, of all the
strings of the orchestra as they were simultaneously snipped
by sharp prying eyes, listening to the mixing of paint
to smell the music, its arms limp, vivid
wishing to pull you back (in hindsight)
with dreaded, deadened incantations
a dithyrambic liturgy to the drunken thoughtless night
of slurred litanies and unappeasable, irascible deities
lonely and immaculate, all-powerless and deft
in irksome quarrels and arguments
glossed over by the fine print of another
exalting the vainglorious self-inscribed paragons
and revelling every inadmissible mistake
gazing past to a solo star
dumbstruck and dead
from an evaluation
and dehydration
dying to know
forget it.
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 4:19 PM UTC
Love - a game of trial and errors.
Breakups - became a fashion of convenience.
'In a relationship' - now is a funny trend.
Marriage an unexpected deadend.
Victim? Well, that's You!
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 10:30 AM UTC
Ritual cycle
Eat, sleep and repeat
Fight, sweat, beg and bleed
Cordless and bored
Can't afford a more important course
Tour the tunnels
Force the worm to sacrifice itself
Sleep away the overwhelming since that this is all there is
Ego is greedy and never satisfied
The destroyer, must avoid her
Try not to stare into her eyes
Fall in slow motion into a comfortably numb existence
The silence of revelation
The deadend of procrastination
The hollow beat of hearts encased captivity
Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
comes a time you have lived a yes life
and with a simple no
leave it all behind
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 12:17 PM UTC
I don't think I can finish this
until life finishes it for me
I stay late every night towards
a deadend, weakened enough
to collide with another day
Feel like catching something but
who cares about your poems?
I think of the same as I lie down
Forget it then, but I know they will stay up
until I come back in another day
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 8:02 PM UTC
See how the others live
garnish your morning gruel with gossips
makes your cold porridge taste just a bit better
search out the tit-bits and the juicy blue parables
all from the House of Windsors can never be fake-news
when Princes bed seventeen aged maiden cold teas taste hot
gloom and doom means pep-ups, a smile and a spring to their steps
in rarefied air the stench of the ghettos and the belches from drains
should whiff in polluting and disturbing the perfumery of gentility
and why not...do they hear the cries of the motherless babies
or listen to the frustrations of the thieves having a no dice day
as Joan sells her body to pay the loan-arranger yesterday
and Jason is so bothered looking for a fix down the alley
do they know Roger took his own life cos he had no job
yes to sit and hear of the pain and sufferings high above
makes cold toasts and bacon of-cuts that much sweeter
and as the kettle whistles away they hope the vapour
clears the grimes of trodden lives and deadend roads
and rain hot molten ashes on the Semites and Giles
and madam in the big house up in the green Hills
and the Garters and Coronets all burn in Hell
with their socks on......
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 4:45 PM UTC
Complicated is an understatement
Nonexistent is simply too harsh
If it never existed how can you crave it
If it never walked up to and acknowledged you presence
how can you greet it
A complicated nonexistent envy of love
Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
The New Future roar +
Gimme Gimme
Better salaries 2018
Hard years or light years
Galaxies
Hey 19*,20?,21$,
22 my birth number
September Saphire blue
What's true the roar-ins
The movies the cold cuts
Getting hot
Boar head bites
The crybaby nights
Roaring Twenties Flights"
It's time for the modern
"I Dare" to be on the edge
Just Dodge
Men at war draft ins
Pennies for their thoughts
Dr. Who am I drugs new
laugh-ins
She's the boredom
Monday- millenium
"Gatsby Gorilla"
Tuesday Tarrantula deadend
It been a long weekend_____
Money is the killer
Ransom not a fandom
The Samson and Delilah
"Gilmore Ladies" Halleluah
Stocked up on mercedes
Flapper dancers flipped
a coin
They marched in computer
lion
Whats in your pocket
Now Hewlett Packard
Hackers and fast and furious
snackers
(The Thirties) centuries gowns
Kitchen the wife cooks
Turkey tough food 4 the soul
Davie Bowie ground control
Bowing down "Beek Jerky"
The golf player the hole
in goofers those penny loafers
Coffee and cars comedians
"Seinfeld" is money gold
Jiffy peanut butter
Sandwiches spread with love
I love you "Mother" Miss Kleinfeld
I am getting married
Those emmy awards looking worried
What's edible Mr Hannibal
with attachmnents Mrs cannibals
The love can (B) incredible
Cornish Hens
Another day like Zen
Those Stepford wives perfect ten
Eyes of Fifty shades of poodle skirts
New Jersey housewives movie cut
Greek goddess of Ulysses lit
Greek yogurt creamy lips possess
New future what to address
Wordy so quirky time gets
spooky
Look alive get perky
The future for me is right now
Jersey strong "New Jersey"
All Excell moon solar system
The future I got the rhythm
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 5:27 PM UTC
Can't swim on nor drown,
Loving life, I'll emerge
At the deadend I frown,
A look of pain and rage.
Because of the smoke
My lungs are black.
Things, which you spoke
Made my soul wreck.
Every night you
In my dreams sing.
I'll forget the bloom
Of leaving spring.
A look of the eyes
On life, not getting better
But Sooner or later
Sun breaks the ice
Sooner or later
The new spring comes.
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 11:40 AM UTC
There’ll be a moment
Maybe mid 30s
Maybe mid 40s
Maybe your whole life
Where you stop
Gaining things
Money
Knowledge
Friendships
Loves
And you start
Losing them
Money in your accounts
Knowledge lost on deadend jobs
Friendships that you outgrew
&
Loves
The burial of parents
The ‘We’ll always know each other
Become just another thing
You lose
The
Hello
&
Goodbye
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 11:28 AM UTC