"dichotic" poems
Are you a cat or bird,
devil or saint?
Villain and victim, dichotic romantic,
bruised and beaten, ostracised.
Bruised and beaten, demonised.
A willow bending against cruel fashion's wind.
A thousand storms of impotent hate,
jealousies and malignant complaints.
Rain like sonnets before the deaf!
As your gifts are pearl before swine.
And yet thy brow is regal still.
The profile of a demon prince -
no matter what shape taketh the face.
Be thou Quasimodo or Adonis by fate.
Whose smile has lit a thousand candles
in thankless, bitter hearts,
and fires in the hearths of freaks
who need but a spark to break the leash.
Or art thou Prince of Cats?
Yearning for the freedom to roam, to hunt.
Seeking pleasure, his mistresses pats.
The enemy of closed doors and cold paws.
Or could thou be a bird?
Clipped wings, a gilded cage,
whose song can only go so far.
If not let to glide into the night, to rise,
to greet the dawn with bleary, satisfied eyes.
Of one who has been given the chance to soar!
Or else to wilt, and yowl no more.
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
I am from grease,
From Valvoline and mineral oil
I am from green grass surrounded by dead trees
(Heady, damp, somehow always smelling of jasmine and mint)
I am from lilies,
Tempered and beautiful in her rage
I am from perseverance and moxie
From Lyons and Rob
I’m from the never cries and please no secrets
From death is imminent and shrill screams of my name
I’m from losing my faith to an illness, it that stole more than an ***** from me
I’m from chocolate turtles and Smarties, from pixie stick dusk wafting up my nose
From the ghost of my mother in the kitchen cooking, to her ghost that envelopes my soul
The colors cut and healed beneath her skin that I caress carefully,
The ink faded on her wrist as she succumbs to lividity
My grandmother holding her picture as she weeps quietly,
Her voice dichotic in my ears as I watch videos on a screen
Those photos, her headstone, grounding me deeply into my grief, like a needle piercing cracked jewels into my mind
Jan 26, 2020
Jan 26, 2020 at 6:54 PM UTC
Your ambiguity won’t get you seen,
Us retrospect’s know how to do it clean,
Word men and bird men are exactly the same,
Acting out fantasies and playing the game,
Dichotic words you write of life,
of unrequited love and strife,
from teenage angst to aged woe,
you think your words will steal the show,
Dig a little deeper and you’ll surely see,
your arrogant swagger is not for me,
for I can see from behind your quill,
the Idiosyncratic, tedious swill.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
AMBITION > EMOTION
2 in the morning and my mind is on you
4 in the morning and and it still hasn't moved
Somehow I try to design my line of thought
Try to redirect the flow but there's something I forgot
Pebbles cause ripples but they all gonna settle
It's a fight against resolve, I hope they ain't testing my mettle
Cos if they are, then I'm sorry to say I failed woefully
Young and outta patience I'm wondering if there's hope for me
I'm leaping off the cliff, halfway I find epiphany
But now you think I'm halfway dead
Not if I pray and close my eyes and just save my breath
No parachute on my back but I ain't shooting for that
I got a ruler for that
Trampoline on the ground and not a scratch on my back
Now how relieving is that?
And how revealing is this
I found my spot on a map
I put my foot on the hills
I drive the flag to the ground
Vision is lost in the mist
But still I gotta insist
Temptations I must resist
I'm never repping the six
I think it's born of the beast
I think my timing is Swiss
My rhyme pattern is crisp
Get to the bottom of things
And put my name on a list
Of all-time greats and prophets
My name in the sky but it ain't my profit
So let's get back to the topic-my mind on you
But psychology stays dichotic
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 4:36 AM UTC