"decamp" poems
Bait, cast, reel me in.
In to your trap.
Flatter, flirt, tie me up.
Up around your finger.
Push, pull, make me succumb.
Succumb to your will.
Shove, coerce, force me to feel.
Feel things I did not ask for.
Jade, cloy, leave me in secret.
Secret love for another.
Resign, decamp, abandon me.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 1:28 AM UTC
It was on a crisp autumn night that I
sat alone beside you
for the first time in nearly four years.
The shadows of the looming pines surrounding me
seemed to press and pressure my eyes to slip
down six feet under along with
the bleeding sun as it continued to
decamp from the sky. It slid so smoothly
past the towering pines while the
silvery fist of the moon
shoved it roughly back to the west;
I thought about how you mustn’t like the night
because of the chill that often comes
hand in hand with the darkness.
For a moment, I considered
the slight possibility of my body heat
leaching down through the earth
and into your bones.
I wondered how cold it is to
sleep underground and then I
wondered if angels felt the
creeping chill of the
foreshadowing frost in the first place.
I thought that everything significant
must happen on Thursdays because
your book began and ended on
the fifth day—
born on the same day of the week
you and I compare and contrast
like long
lost
twins.
Sometimes I half-expect to see
your ghost staring back at me
when I look in the mirror and to be
completely honest, I’m not sure
what I’m more afraid of—
the possibility that you might not be the same
or the chance that you might be so
disappointed in what you see in me
now that we are separated.
The divide between us runs deep
into the earth and creates a whole
new fault line, rent and ruptured
beyond all forms of repair.
The breath I breathe is the
bridge between us;
the bed you sleep in is the
total distance.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
Neath the pale and crescent moon
I saunter with the call of loon,
This haunting note through reeds on lake
Reflected moonlit ripples make.
I pause to ponder beauty stark
Of monochrome in Willmont Park,
In sillouhette of black and white
Through lakeside, rippled reeds at night.
Again the call of haunting loon
In silver light's reflected moon,
The chill air causing breath to cloud
My footfall crunch in sand, too loud,
Distracting me from beautious sight
Of moonlit lake on darkest night.
And yet again that haunting call
To conjour Willmont's phantom shawl,
Descending mist now brings the damp
Necessitating my decamp....
So.... with regret, I disembark
From gracious, moonlit Willmont Park.
M.
April 19 2014
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
I feel as if I am drowning under the weight of thousand words unspoken,
feel still lost in the I's and the eyes on the tip of my tongue and teeth in my lips in your eyes in your lips.
If I could unblock the rot and make the heartache stop.
If I could rewind the time and decamp this vast desert filled with landmines.
If I could start over again and just pretend, that this is surely not my trying to fend for myself, would you hold me with your touch, caress and noone else?
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 4:15 PM UTC
Make me and my affection no castaway
Wherein this love-ship together we sail.
In every earthly tempest and gale,
Will I on my part steadfast be alway.
Wilt thou this relationship abandon
And to another guy in seeming easy
Circumstances decamp, dear popsy,
Relishing thyself with him, having fun?
Oct 13, 2011
Oct 13, 2011 at 2:52 AM UTC
She Has wishes
Like everybody does
She has a Dreams
Yet to be fulfilled
She has a Plans
which she thinks for
She has a Hope
A broken Hope
About her wishes
About Her Dreams
About her Plans
But here she wants to decamp
Far away :
Where no one finds her
No one looks for her
Yes! She is trying to run away
From all her Dreams,
From all her plans and hopes
Because She is a distracted girl
A hopeless girl, A failure
A broken and betrayed girl
From her ones, but once
May be twice, thrice or more!!
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 7:43 AM UTC
tear into my flesh
and open me up like
a raider would his treasure
rip my bolts off
fling me open
do not be surprised
when there is nothing inside
amalgamate with my flesh
and melt into me like
the snow to the loam
mingle our ventricles
synthesize with me
do not be surprised
when life becomes heavier
pour into my flesh
and fill me up like
the ocean into the wreckage
suffuse every corner
expel my atmosphere
do not be surprised
when you watch me asphyxiate
lacerate my flesh
rip into me like
the galaxy into the unknown
eagerly penetrate my depths
pull me apart
do not be surprised
when you only see your reflection
decamp from my flesh
and jilt me like
the bride did her lover
abandon my body
cast it aside
do not be surprised
when you lose your way
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 11:47 PM UTC
Lately, all I want to do is stare at the ceiling and let my consciousness descend in the cellar of perpetual dreaming.
It happens, I guess. Friends vacate their spaces and walk quietly out of your life. Without warning, and sometimes, when we need them most.
All those times you've spent together, those nights you've skipped sleep just so you could drag them out of their loneliness before sunrise, all those they've buried in the farthest corner of their memories, to be left forgotten and cold like ordinary days.
I will let you be. It's your prerogative to leave. I cannot make you stay, I can only give you a piece of myself as a parting gift -- last cup of brewed coffee, a sleepover, random snack, crackling laughter, secret language, and a silent, desperate plea for you not to decamp and disappear.
If you do, do something for me, please? Walk away without noise. Leave a breath of your memory under my pillow where my hand would find them in the morning. Let them live on, in my mind, as you were, as we were.
I will plant trees and seek solace in the uninhabited forest of our bygone days. The olden times will no longer be drifting in exhaustion. In each leaf, I will build a cabin and a home and I will remember the time when you never asked questions, when you never judged, and when you were just kind.
I will remember the look of understanding in our eyes as I unraveled my thoughts and bled out. I will remember, always, when you reassured me that it is human to be vulnerable.
One day, we will find a way out of this harm and regain a kinder hope. And perhaps, in an unloved hinterland, a miracle will happen and the rain will dance, dearly, in barefoot.
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 12:38 PM UTC
Emotions change constantly.
I experience a wave of the new.
From happy, sad, anger.
At least that's what i thought.
I saw them, these disparate faces.
All trying to claim my personality.
I thought and tried to protect it.
But really it's a sin.
A sin to be because it obliterates the self
myself.
And such a sin
imperils reality itself.
So i let go of the personality.
Finally to lay bare whats free.
Because in the truth i'm not a disposition.
I am just being.
Confused in a social box of response.
In feeling these untruths.
Which are promoted as rectitude.
But they are just emotions, nothing more.
These emotions are not me.
The personality is nothing as well.
NO- THING
It hurts when you first realize that.
But then you see that the hurt is fake
as well.
So inner demons exist.
But they always shatter too.
It's all a jumbled mess.
So to escape the mind brings me harmony.
And with that i decamp.
Then openly i may find peace.
Because a constantly moving
mind can drive you nuts.
It's like a prison, as
the mind continues to create.
With no bounds or limitations
but the penitentiary is really only
there when the personality exists.
But is letting go of personality
Crazy? As you become what they call "weird"
to let go and be who you
really are requires courage.
"civilization" creating personality so let it go.
and to let go of that.
Is to let of the false fellowship.
So is it worth it?
I think yes.
To save yourself and to get rid
of social and mental dis-ease.
You have to let go.
I have to be free.
Free from the box of emotes presented.
as that i can feel it all.
And who i am.
To express to be open.
To those in society this is wacko.
But it doesn't matter.
Because they are all trapped in temperament.
I am moving to be free from.
the curse.
The same curse i mentioned earlier.
which kills you through rationalization.
So I've seen and accepted
the faces.
I met them face to face
ear to ear.
I heard them in person.
and i saw who they wanted me.
to be.
I saw what they wanted others to see.
But i'm not doing that.
Imma be me.
I'm not doing that.
Imma be me.
To be me is to accept it all.
I accepted the past.
I accepted the now and future
and let go of it all.
I was ready to experience truth
to see the authenticity of everything.
To lie in authenticity
and to be alone.
To not be alone in thoughts.
To not be together with others in
public.
But to be alone outside of that trip.
There are many ways to go
and the way is around thee.
In the whirlwind that encapsulates the soul.
So i can let it go.
Confusing eh?
Being awake for the first time in life
Moving on around the inner light.
The inner openings of strife/sacrifice
and seeing that the light is not inner or out.
Instead it's beyond and together.
And finally i made it to that point.
Where the mind is gone and soul too.
So that u could touch what is wise,
open, and true.
I can feel it all
and be me.
Not tainted by the falseness
of society's fake emotions.
Instead, feeling them in their truth
seeing their vulnerable nature
and truly connecting and discerning
not going and becoming.
Instead just being
be to be
see to see
me to me.
And finally, i can whisper its name.
Not fortitude's essence and flavor.
I can live not brilliantly or in mediocrity
I can be to be.
And it's crazy.
be to be
that is crazy
but it's truth
and it's really free.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
The beauty if her voice is all she is
The reason why he calls her “His“
Soon, he’ll be able to call her “mrs”
The beauty of my voice is nothing i am
As soon as I extricate it, everyone seems to decamp
Why is her voice’s beauty so powerful?
I may seem precarious with myself, but it’s all i’ve ever known.
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 12:34 AM UTC
What a blessing
To decamp
From the body
And reside
In the spirit
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 8:12 AM UTC
Yesterday,
Why should i care anyway.
Tomorrow,
Remember it's not that far away.
I like you,
In present, that's all that matters
'Cause i know feelings will not scatter
Do you play with'em?
-You asked
I'm sorry I'm unskilled at that
-I replied.
I'ts hard for me to say
That I like you everyday,
For I'm in love with you.
I'm trying, really trying
To change my feelings towards you
Yet,
I wont let my heart be a treacherous being.
I'm trying to supply,
So I can see a smile on you everyday
I'm trying not to die,
'Couse a decamp would mean suicide.
For you are my everything
And without you my life is meaningless.
Without you..
How could I live without you?
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 8:29 PM UTC
And this song fell out from my father's lips:
Of boys learning to drop the corpse of their
parents' bodies on the high mountain of Jos,
Of girls who came home learning to place fingers on the holes that evil men dug;
Of children learning to empty themselves
With lies & truths about what happened now, about what happened in Benue and pleateu,
Of those stories that escaped through our mother's nostrils as she became past tense.
And this wants to make you leave your body
to a place where lost is freedom to enjoy.
yesterday When teeth fell from our mouth,
We threw them to the zinc for tomorrow.
We never knew they became dancers in
a battle field, making glittering white war.
We wired our way into abstract destructions
We bottled our knowledge to the river bank.
I am not alone in this nightmare of want
When my country men became object of
ridicule, I was never among them to core.
treasure this thawn into dirge of goodness.
Help me knit this morning with a song,
trace Adkins into Wooten of silence
We archived our routes to another smothering
Snow in red places before dawn.
Help me gather the laughters of those girls
Help me tell mother that sin is not a reproach
Tell father that Satan was an angel of light
Not a mystical mysteries as told by all.
If Allah allows the vehicles of my thought
To decamp from the camp of Moses.
When you get to Lagos, don't allow a bus to
carry you pass those graveyard called bridge.
a trailer fell from one of them at Ojuelegba
and another one fell in Ibadan without the express. There we saw a boy' tale told in
Fe-Buhari in pains & gory and eel mystery.
He carried a song on his shoulder to crying
Forgetting there on the express way has his father's last prayer points & footprints...
There he died also hoping to pick his
father's dust groaning without a comforter.
I whispered these words in secret
Tell nobody that somebody told you the body
of the storyline before the ****** erupted.
Till everything becomes breeze, I am not
still a poet but a messenger of the gods.
©John Chizoba Vincent
The_Boy_Hero
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 6:40 PM UTC
What a blessing
To decamp
From the body
And reside
In the spirit..
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 12:16 AM UTC
I just barely got here
Through shell shocked writer’s block
And tackle double talk fear
Shackled hello poetry, with goodbye, right near
Epilepsy is enough misfunction
Most assuredly my greatest taker
Needn’t to add some greater *compunction
When awareness can vanish like vapor
It’s time to rezone my stained rocket stove
Wrap the fragile packed in Earnest paper decamp this cornerstone to thither grove
Looking for a better “b” line breaker
Jun 3, 2020
Jun 3, 2020 at 6:05 PM UTC