Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"discoloration" poems
drowning in caffeine breathing the nicotine my blood cant circulate - your love will stimulate. the ****** of death in **** will simulate your touch , my need as we spiral in to sin separation , depression , paranoia anxiety - the absence of my sleep aggression , desperation toxicity - of a drama we are in discoloration - i can't control the spin screams - muted by bitter pills our dreams - induced by the  acid capsuled lives - longing self destruction your embrace - disconnection release me from what is real obsession - for what we cannot fix frustration - for what we can't control memories - of what we used to be delusions - of what we could have been isolation - thoughts of being free now voices dictate what i should feel digging through my skin - opening the wounds put your fingers in remembering the days when we held an illusion no drugs could replicate i can't forget. exchanging promises of never letting go was it all in my head? i can't escape the hole. i walk the road alone.
0
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 7:35 PM UTC
****** spiral
Overlook the fragile hourglass figure Beyond corsets and pseudo-beauty rules, Endorse thy curves and stretch marks strewn, The dusky skin and frizzy curls, Braille like pimples on the face Discoloration, bumps and pores; This Body shaming, I shall pass. Writhing in pain and humiliation, Drenching in rage and insecurity While I lie, Society curses me Defining and redefining my chastity; 'T was the crop top, the alcohol and the sly behavior. You set the monster free and blame the **** This Victim shaming, I shall pass. Beige and ebony; They call me names blatantly Betwixt skin color and bleached smiles. Laugh and scoff all you want. Harass the Black, detain them, Prejudiced minds rule your dystopian world. This Black shaming, I shall pass. Without creating a labyrinth of stigma, And seeking refugee in collective blame, Let's construct our utopian world Acknowledging all freaks and flaws This Shaming, we shall pass.
0
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 8:05 AM UTC
This shaming, I shall pass
Delayed response to ground control, oh how I was crying. In retrospect, I was just shallow; like an astronaut only watching himself as the rest of the world kept steadily spinning. Impersonal up here, never caring about winning or losing. The star charts that mentors showed lost to what my mind followed, A winding path through this sacred space which I unhallowed. I didn't flinch at blastoff; it wasn't bravery, it was me being a coward. Sweating in a far away bed, steel round walls with no decoration, Straining my mind fighting the moments of suffocation. Spots in my vision, distortion and discoloration. Seeing stars I glimpsed my comet on exhibition. I would have to come back around. It was just a matter of my rotation. Retrospect from ages back and to beyond where we will have gone. Black holes made that can never be filled, endless they came, endless they will come. To touch down in glory, or stay on the run. Life is just a rocket that departs from the sun. The rest isn't lost, it just hasn't been done. So as we eventually drift into deep space and age becomes our dawn, remember to look out the window and wave to the passerby's. They will cheer you on.
0
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 1:17 AM UTC
Rockets, Comets, And The Stars Between Them All
Months ago, I used to apply makeup for the sole purpose of feeling beautiful, part of me adored the curve in my eyeliner or the red in my lipstick; it made me confident, it made me feel like my smile was brighter, like any and everything I did, was wonderful. I can't be sure when the shift happened, but I find myself less and less capable of enjoying the morning's application process. I suppose it's because I no longer wear it for pleasure but rather, to cover the darkness under my eyelids, to mask the discoloration in my skin, and to hide my far too visible exhaustion.
0
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Makeup
(For Harry Clifton) I HAVE heard that hysterical women say They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow. Of poets that are always gay, For everybody knows or else should know That if nothing drastic is done Aeroplane and Zeppelin will come out. Pitch like King Billy bomb-balls in Until the town lie bearen flat. All perform their tragic play, There struts Hamlet, there is Lear, That's Ophelia, that Cordelia; Yet they, should the last scene be there, The great stage curtain about to drop, If worthy their prominent part in the play, Do not break up their lines to weep. They know that Hamlet and Lear are gay; Gaiety transfiguring all that dread. All men have aimed at, found and lost; Black out; Heaven blazing into the head: Tragedy wrought to its uttermost. Though Hamlet rambles and Lear rages, And all the drop-scenes drop at once Upon a hundred thousand stages, It cannot grow by an inch or an ounce. On their own feet they came, or On shipboard,' Camel-back; horse-back, ass-back, mule-back, Old civilisations put to the sword. Then they and their wisdom went to rack: No handiwork of Callimachus, Who handled marble as if it were bronze, Made draperies that seemed to rise When sea-wind swept the corner, stands; His long lamp-chimney shaped like the stem Of a slender palm, stood but a day; All things fall and are built again, And those that build them again are gay. Two Chinamen, behind them a third, Are carved in lapis lazuli, Over them flies a long-legged bird, A symbol of longevity; The third, doubtless a serving-man, Carries a musical instmment. Every discoloration of the stone, Every accidental crack or dent, Seems a water-course or an avalanche, Or lofty slope where it still snows Though doubtless plum or cherry-branch Sweetens the little half-way house Those Chinamen climb towards, and I Delight to imagine them seated there; There, on the mountain and the sky, On all the tragic scene they stare. One asks for mournful melodies; Accomplished fingers begin to play. Their eyes mid many wrinkles, their eyes, Their ancient, glittering eyes, are gay.
0
3.4k
Lapis Lazuli
(For Harry Clifton) I HAVE heard that hysterical women say They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow. Of poets that are always gay, For everybody knows or else should know That if nothing drastic is done Aeroplane and Zeppelin will come out. Pitch like King Billy bomb-balls in Until the town lie bearen flat. All perform their tragic play, There struts Hamlet, there is Lear, That's Ophelia, that Cordelia; Yet they, should the last scene be there, The great stage curtain about to drop, If worthy their prominent part in the play, Do not break up their lines to weep. They know that Hamlet and Lear are gay; Gaiety transfiguring all that dread. All men have aimed at, found and lost; Black out; Heaven blazing into the head: Tragedy wrought to its uttermost. Though Hamlet rambles and Lear rages, And all the drop-scenes drop at once Upon a hundred thousand stages, It cannot grow by an inch or an ounce. On their own feet they came, or On shipboard,' Camel-back; horse-back, ass-back, mule-back, Old civilisations put to the sword. Then they and their wisdom went to rack: No handiwork of Callimachus, Who handled marble as if it were bronze, Made draperies that seemed to rise When sea-wind swept the corner, stands; His long lamp-chimney shaped like the stem Of a slender palm, stood but a day; All things fall and are built again, And those that build them again are gay. Two Chinamen, behind them a third, Are carved in lapis lazuli, Over them flies a long-legged bird, A symbol of longevity; The third, doubtless a serving-man, Carries a musical instmment. Every discoloration of the stone, Every accidental crack or dent, Seems a water-course or an avalanche, Or lofty slope where it still snows Though doubtless plum or cherry-branch Sweetens the little half-way house Those Chinamen climb towards, and I Delight to imagine them seated there; There, on the mountain and the sky, On all the tragic scene they stare. One asks for mournful melodies; Accomplished fingers begin to play. Their eyes mid many wrinkles, their eyes, Their ancient, glittering eyes, are gay.
Continue reading...
57
There are metallic, life-like statues of human figures scattered through my city, often on park benches. You must look twice the first time you spot them, and sometimes, each time, as they are so nat-ural, that they fool the retina image of man. The traffic light, red to green, yet my limbs, froze fruit solid, release catch stuck, unflippable, somehow plastic freezes, mobility skills rusted by December's hampering cheeky cheeks, a seasonal reddish copper discoloration of the extremities, a harmony of no sensation A comet stuck in pedestrian neutral, collided/jostled by starry eyed Fifth Avenue street walkers and tourists. my presence sensed, touched, yet avoided, unnoticed, like streetlight, lamppost, mailbox, I am, a body, at rest, unseen but on display in the art gallery of Manhattan's Lost and Found In the section of the paper where the unimportant local news is sliced n' diced into single paragraphs, of human interest, tidbits, amuse bouche, items of major minor interest, The New York Times reported the discovery of an unauthorized lifelike bronze n' copper sculpture. eyes of polished nickel, heart of stained steel, rendition of a man so lifelike y'all do a triple take, smile, take a cell photo, phone a friend his embodiment can be found on the rounded corner of Columbus Circle, @59th St., where you enter Central Park. upon a bench, man clutching Sunday newspapers, a pair of scissors, coupons cut, scattered at his feet. a homely but comely, ****** expression, one of bewilderment. A tiny plaque on a brass plate, at his feet, hints of his progenitor and human origins. Artist: Unknown, Materials: Organic Metals Title: A Living Finish
0
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 5:38 PM UTC
A Living Finish (Sunday's newspapers come on Saturday - Part II)
There are metallic, life-like statues of human figures scattered through my city, often on park benches. You must look twice the first time you spot them, and sometimes, each time, as they are so nat-ural, that they fool the retina image of man. The traffic light, red to green, yet my limbs, froze fruit solid, release catch stuck, unflippable, somehow plastic freezes, mobility skills rusted by December's hampering cheeky cheeks, a seasonal reddish copper discoloration of the extremities, a harmony of no sensation A comet stuck in pedestrian neutral, collided/jostled by starry eyed Fifth Avenue street walkers and tourists. my presence sensed, touched, yet avoided, unnoticed, like streetlight, lamppost, mailbox, I am, a body, at rest, unseen but on display in the art gallery of Manhattan's Lost and Found In the section of the paper where the unimportant local news is sliced n' diced into single paragraphs, of human interest, tidbits, amuse bouche, items of major minor interest, The New York Times reported the discovery of an unauthorized lifelike bronze n' copper sculpture. eyes of polished nickel, heart of stained steel, rendition of a man so lifelike y'all do a triple take, smile, take a cell photo, phone a friend his embodiment can be found on the rounded corner of Columbus Circle, @59th St., where you enter Central Park. upon a bench, man clutching Sunday newspapers, a pair of scissors, coupons cut, scattered at his feet. a homely but comely, ****** expression, one of bewilderment. A tiny plaque on a brass plate, at his feet, hints of his progenitor and human origins. Artist: Unknown, Materials: Organic Metals Title: A Living Finish
Continue reading...
69
Mark Twain to Helen Keller “Oh, dear me, how unspeakably funny and owlishly idiotic and grotesque was that “plagiarism” farce! As if there was much of anything in any human utterance, oral or written, except plagiarism! The kernel, the soul—let us go farther and say the substance, the bulk, the actual and valuable material of all human utterances in plagiarism. For substantially all ideas are second hand, consciously or unconsciously drawn from a million outside sources and daily use by the garnerer with a pride and satisfaction born of the superstition that he originated them; whereas there is not a rag of originality about them any where except the little discoloration they get from his mental and moral calibre and his temperament, which is revealed in characteristics of phrasing.” Mark Twain
0
Dec 1, 2021
Dec 1, 2021 at 3:39 PM UTC
On Plagiarism: Mark Twain to Helen Keller, who was accused of plagiarizing...
so tightens the end of september like a noose, rained for weeks straight and i’m doing whatever feels right you run your fingers thru my hair and i’m embarrassed, don’t know how to tell you how i feel want to run away into the night with you, want to drink again and fight the system, its every discoloration so each day goes forgetting what brings the glitter back in my eyes, smiles fading for no reason
0
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 5:37 AM UTC
2am friday song
<•>   For A: The Pleasure of Infection 10:53 pm our all about is to be the whittler of our personage, to both hold the knife with care, but with risky, reckless artistry, as we shape of what raw materials we are possessed, into our own reshaped, reformed most prized bejeweled possession never mind the shavings and cutaways fallen, they are fast away, castaway choices made and cannot be retrieved, for when we whittle, whether our shape desired which may be prior envisioned or a vision from the discovery of performing, they matter no more, let them go, in their absence too, they are part and a whit of you, but not of you, no longer our commonality in this: everything, in everything else, so little but your honesty and crafted, almost dishonesty both ring true, and infect us with pleasure of recalling when we being cut designed and preparing our statue for an unveiling, but with no date yet set, and the loveliness of our mistakes, were precious do-over opportunities seek out the infection, the infection of discovery, the risk of pleasure exposed and your poetry may be either   the antibiotics when the result is red and unpleasant, or a celebration, an invitation to us to be a semi-silent beholder of your artistry infections heal after pain and discoloration but new skin always forms, but at a different pace for each of us I see the faces in my carpet nodding agreement, "always new skin" oh boy. time to go to bed go seek out the pleasure of infection, sadly, happily, it is the only way good night from an old man who dreams and schemes of new skin nightly but never mind me, my piece long ago writ and in need of just a tweak here and there, call it one too many close shavings, his poem's treasure trove, a list of life's minor irritations and major lifts <•> 11:16pm
0
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 11:36 PM UTC
For A: The Pleasure of Infection
<•>   For A: The Pleasure of Infection 10:53 pm our all about is to be the whittler of our personage, to both hold the knife with care, but with risky, reckless artistry, as we shape of what raw materials we are possessed, into our own reshaped, reformed most prized bejeweled possession never mind the shavings and cutaways fallen, they are fast away, castaway choices made and cannot be retrieved, for when we whittle, whether our shape desired which may be prior envisioned or a vision from the discovery of performing, they matter no more, let them go, in their absence too, they are part and a whit of you, but not of you, no longer our commonality in this: everything, in everything else, so little but your honesty and crafted, almost dishonesty both ring true, and infect us with pleasure of recalling when we being cut designed and preparing our statue for an unveiling, but with no date yet set, and the loveliness of our mistakes, were precious do-over opportunities seek out the infection, the infection of discovery, the risk of pleasure exposed and your poetry may be either   the antibiotics when the result is red and unpleasant, or a celebration, an invitation to us to be a semi-silent beholder of your artistry infections heal after pain and discoloration but new skin always forms, but at a different pace for each of us I see the faces in my carpet nodding agreement, "always new skin" oh boy. time to go to bed go seek out the pleasure of infection, sadly, happily, it is the only way good night from an old man who dreams and schemes of new skin nightly but never mind me, my piece long ago writ and in need of just a tweak here and there, call it one too many close shavings, his poem's treasure trove, a list of life's minor irritations and major lifts <•> 11:16pm
Continue reading...
58
This is ancient land, this is        hallowed ground, this is 21 kilometers worth of tunnels.   Blood stops flowing after death                                                           because the heart is no longer beating; no longer forcing blood to gush through veins and arteries and vessels.   It gets lazy, becomes stagnant.   Slowly slides down to the                                                lowest point on the body; creates a                                           reddish purple discoloration on the skin similar to a bruise, but not quite the same thing.             This is what I imagine the fifth level of the catacombs to look like:                                            a reddish purple discoloration                                           spread across my mother’s back.   This is what I see when I close my eyes and rub them a bit too hard for a bit too long.  This is what I see when I look into a hole in the stone walls that is big enough to fit an infant.  This is what I see in the reflection of the Trevi Fountain.  This is what I see when I try to remember the shape of my mother’s sleeping body as it curled in on itself on top of a flat hospital mattress.   The color of death is not black, is not white.  The color of death is the color of blood: the way it looks through the skin after having                                                        hours and                                                                             days and                                  weeks to slowly slink down into the lowest bend of the body.   This is the reddish umbra of the earth that the                                                                              eclipsed moon hides behind.   This is my body given for you.   Take and eat.                                                     Do this is the remembrance of                                                                                                                 me.
0
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 6:40 PM UTC
A Very Dead Pope Sixtus II Passing Out Communion in the Crypt of the Popes
This is ancient land, this is        hallowed ground, this is 21 kilometers worth of tunnels.   Blood stops flowing after death                                                           because the heart is no longer beating; no longer forcing blood to gush through veins and arteries and vessels.   It gets lazy, becomes stagnant.   Slowly slides down to the                                                lowest point on the body; creates a                                           reddish purple discoloration on the skin similar to a bruise, but not quite the same thing.             This is what I imagine the fifth level of the catacombs to look like:                                            a reddish purple discoloration                                           spread across my mother’s back.   This is what I see when I close my eyes and rub them a bit too hard for a bit too long.  This is what I see when I look into a hole in the stone walls that is big enough to fit an infant.  This is what I see in the reflection of the Trevi Fountain.  This is what I see when I try to remember the shape of my mother’s sleeping body as it curled in on itself on top of a flat hospital mattress.   The color of death is not black, is not white.  The color of death is the color of blood: the way it looks through the skin after having                                                        hours and                                                                             days and                                  weeks to slowly slink down into the lowest bend of the body.   This is the reddish umbra of the earth that the                                                                              eclipsed moon hides behind.   This is my body given for you.   Take and eat.                                                     Do this is the remembrance of                                                                                                                 me.
Continue reading...
29
You have not seen me until you have seen me as I see myself You have not seen me until you see me as I trace my hand over the stretch marks that climb the sides of my torso like veins that squeeze me You have not seen me until you see me as my eyes become dimmer as I look at the discoloration of my sides You have not seen me until you see every scar, bruise, and scratch that plagues my thighs and arms You have not seen me until you have watched my body give in and breakdown because the image I see staring back at myself is one of broken glass, broken dreams, broken memories You have not seen me until you understand that I am not a towering temple with battle scars and broken beauty marks I am a shell of lost spirit and soul I am a body, torn apart apart by hatred and rotten words You have not seen me
0
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
You Have Not Seen Me
divot discoloration blemished imperfection. The storybook of my flesh is peppered with these pockmarks of life. A secret connect the dots maze on my body binding the story pages together. I grin as I examine my body and all it's protruding oddities, how beautiful  it is as I crash course through this crazy ocean my breath still ebbs and flows in synchronization. I love the nooks of me no one else could possibly understand. my peculiarly chipped tooth buried in my gums as a reminder of juvenile fun. I tuck myself into a bed of comfort cradling these imperfections, a grand testament of life. The girl with the electric smile and lazy eye.
0
Aug 4, 2016
Aug 4, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC
Dear Body, I love you
I saw my mother for the last time The mortician whispered in a silent voice I'm aware your mother didn't wear much makeup, but we had to put some on her as she had some discolouration." I walked through the slightly opened door Across the room was a light brown casket Roses as red as the breast of a robin surrounded you I couldn't seem to get my feet to move My feet cemented to the ground All your artifacts lay around you Step By painful step I made my way over to you I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes My orchid hearts petals fell slowly to the pit of my stomach My mom didn't look like my mom Not with that makeup But they put it on you to cover the discolouration, the discoloration of the carbon monoxide that corrupted you beautiful mind, or maybe it was the demons that had haunted you for so long When my tears began to overflow my red eyelids I could have sworn I saw you breathing My mom is gone My mom is gone I kept repeating over and over
0
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
Rose
She, voracious reader, nearly a book a day, she loves Rushdie, Ishiguro, E. Stout, and so many, many more, a daily add to an ever growing list of auteurs, all venerable and venerated, my little bits pale, don’t even qualify to compare, so what’s a poet to say, or feel, beside tears in his eyes, so hereby withdraws his awarded accolade, HGF, His Greatest Fan now that there is a vacancy, looking for fufillment, now that there is a hollowed hallow plus a clogged artery, side by side, both within, even an officialized fossilized a doctor declaration of “chronic heart failure” who knew docs still diagnosed love sickness? loss of love could manifest itself so decisively physically, and yet I blame her not, and thank her for the inspiration, for all the poems birthed in her presence, and what swill will /may follow will never be as good, for memories inevitable yellowing, discoloration infestation inevitable, earn my pallor palest poverty and like a used car, good enough for daily trips to the office, but not for cross country trips, and perhaps that means, only smaller,   somewhat used up, and  e v e n not only, only love poetry open to direction road trip to Sweet Sorrow Land
0
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 2:54 PM UTC
She loves the writings of others
Hollow words, like hollow bones can break and shatter They can pierce the flesh, boil the blood Seething from the open wound comes Every ill intention Every falsification Staining the crisp, white linen No amount of homeopathic remedy can remove the stain Try chemicals But you'll find that for any blood removed It's replaced with the sour odor and discoloration From whatever "oxy" product you may try Is it worth it? All that marketing and franchising for something that doesn't remove But replace? Can anything truly be removed purely, permanently?
0
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
Free Write - 1/26/13
no more morning glory the cells want to refuse, purported pseudo-deniers of the man's compulsion not yet six am, the old house, the summering congregation of birds, correspond with each other, their words unintelligible to the man-ear, no doubt talking about the interlopers, the come-and-go humans, or perhaps, just the lousy weather the sunroom's lace curtains, a patterned flower filtering viewer, another impediment to what is out of sight, for the fog surrounds but can't suppress, the exterior & interior combo of noises, birds uttering their morning prayers, accompanied by the sabbath choir of chorusing groans from the untrodden, creaky floorboards, complaining of aged back pains from forty years of desert wandering and over use they confirm the man is not alone, and perhaps, even, among the living the bay's water's color, a small hint now comes visible, colored from the same paint can as the surround-sound from which the fog's discoloration was morning-drawn, wider brush strokes cover this, the man's small world the brains complains, not again! how many times will you compose, drawing from the molecules of this view, no one cares, but composition compulsion, ****** for what makes the man breathe, denies the deniers, praying in the loudest thought voices, to the principle that best defines the moment, (him?) human, give thanks, on this, the seventh day, for the feast of life provided, (even the reasoning atheists go respectful, humble silent) as the man-poet acknowledges here the *One, who remembers, is faithful to, fulfills the covenant and promise, by making fresh daily, the works of creation* Silver Beach, Shelter Island 5:30am, June 4th, 2016
0
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 6:23 AM UTC
no more morning glory
no more morning glory the cells want to refuse, purported pseudo-deniers of the man's compulsion not yet six am, the old house, the summering congregation of birds, correspond with each other, their words unintelligible to the man-ear, no doubt talking about the interlopers, the come-and-go humans, or perhaps, just the lousy weather the sunroom's lace curtains, a patterned flower filtering viewer, another impediment to what is out of sight, for the fog surrounds but can't suppress, the exterior & interior combo of noises, birds uttering their morning prayers, accompanied by the sabbath choir of chorusing groans from the untrodden, creaky floorboards, complaining of aged back pains from forty years of desert wandering and over use they confirm the man is not alone, and perhaps, even, among the living the bay's water's color, a small hint now comes visible, colored from the same paint can as the surround-sound from which the fog's discoloration was morning-drawn, wider brush strokes cover this, the man's small world the brains complains, not again! how many times will you compose, drawing from the molecules of this view, no one cares, but composition compulsion, ****** for what makes the man breathe, denies the deniers, praying in the loudest thought voices, to the principle that best defines the moment, (him?) human, give thanks, on this, the seventh day, for the feast of life provided, (even the reasoning atheists go respectful, humble silent) as the man-poet acknowledges here the *One, who remembers, is faithful to, fulfills the covenant and promise, by making fresh daily, the works of creation* Silver Beach, Shelter Island 5:30am, June 4th, 2016
Continue reading...
64
Done feeling the shivers from cold blows of wind No longer need the warmth of those thick sweaters 'Coz now the sun is out shining so bright enticing us to unwind Feeling its warm kiss on my skin while its rays reflect like glitters. People going on out of town vacations Beach resorts are the common target locations Chillin' out under the sun, not worrying to have some skin discoloration, Wearing colorful swimwear that get a lot of attention. Summer is the perfect time to have some rest Be freed from all the stress; Like living life at its best Feeling the sun rays' warm caress.
0
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
Summer
isn't it bittersweet? how our parallels meet so sweet the way we smile, when we show our teeth it's not so tiring never jaded by the repetitive cycle gears are ready to the arriving battles weapons are edgy, prepared to rumble non-exhausting this proximity ain't absolute without warmth because heat is the firing art a touch of spice is the endearing part it's not so tiring every second, every minute there comes a time when we thought about quitting but we are each other's motivation then we kept going and said, "it's not exhausting" everything seems so nice like a perfect house of cards but it's starting to fall apart and it slowly breaks my heart confuse, refuse radiant, abuse mistaken, rebuke forgiveness, I choose first, I fiddled the turmoil to see what was wrong then I asked fervent questions to see what was wrong third, I sought help above the clouds then hummed my song but nothing seems so wrong, what happened? I tried bringing stains to the discoloration I tried serving flavor to the tasteless correlation I tried giving hints to the dying consideration and see if there's a resurrection to our disconnection it's proof that too much sugar can over sweetened you and too much spice can truly burn you yes, I got tired and I supposed you did, too the ingredients of our love are not as stable as it used to we may have been unbalanced or fell out of the missing pieces we shouldn't forget the essence of how we both started it was tiring yet exhausting, how miraculous it is that we didn't die if 'nice' is what we yearn, I think we should give it another try
0
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 5:01 AM UTC
"Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice"
isn't it bittersweet? how our parallels meet so sweet the way we smile, when we show our teeth it's not so tiring never jaded by the repetitive cycle gears are ready to the arriving battles weapons are edgy, prepared to rumble non-exhausting this proximity ain't absolute without warmth because heat is the firing art a touch of spice is the endearing part it's not so tiring every second, every minute there comes a time when we thought about quitting but we are each other's motivation then we kept going and said, "it's not exhausting" everything seems so nice like a perfect house of cards but it's starting to fall apart and it slowly breaks my heart confuse, refuse radiant, abuse mistaken, rebuke forgiveness, I choose first, I fiddled the turmoil to see what was wrong then I asked fervent questions to see what was wrong third, I sought help above the clouds then hummed my song but nothing seems so wrong, what happened? I tried bringing stains to the discoloration I tried serving flavor to the tasteless correlation I tried giving hints to the dying consideration and see if there's a resurrection to our disconnection it's proof that too much sugar can over sweetened you and too much spice can truly burn you yes, I got tired and I supposed you did, too the ingredients of our love are not as stable as it used to we may have been unbalanced or fell out of the missing pieces we shouldn't forget the essence of how we both started it was tiring yet exhausting, how miraculous it is that we didn't die if 'nice' is what we yearn, I think we should give it another try
Continue reading...
49
Looking into the large bathroom mirror Before the bath I catch a glimpse, a flash of something A darkened area of discoloration Almost as if some future dead thing now inhabits me: A too old cut of meat turned a familiar greenish hue Dead corpse waiting to sprout A glaze eyed figure in the haunted house. The spot may reveal itself on the face, Or along a shoulder or arm. Just for a second. Looking again, it was only my imagination. The infamous man who dug up graves To take parts of the bodies, spoke of a woman's body, That it flushed red where he began to take off A part of it, by cutting it. Even that dead for a week body knew Something violent was being done to it And stories abound of the still-growing hair, fingernails.. Not just haunted tales to scare children It seems a little bit of death resides in the living And a touch of aliveness remains even in death: The boundaries of when we are transformed Into house of wax characters Are never as clear as medical textbooks imply.
0
Mar 9, 2010
Mar 9, 2010 at 5:12 AM UTC
Rigor's Amortization
<> “Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,) You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.” Song of Myself (1892 version) by WALT WHITMAN                                                       §§§ *These admonitions are the ten conditionals commandments of straight talk, boy, you’ve spent a life lessening and lesson-learning and all laid before you for taking, gaining, but for what? for naught? Start this day, having spent my night with you, possessing less than what is my now completed, this, my unfinished commencement, provisioned, a simultaneous beginning and finishing, emptying a void of fulfilling questioning. What does this life desire of me, that it granted and then removed, the knowledge of perfection? leaving me striving, writhing, shivering unceasingly, in my saddened, bursting, hacking and hackneyed chest. I walk the same cobblestone streets, observing the descendants of your ancestral tugs portaging, paying homage to East River tides, carrying those goods, the origins of all poems, from where? to where? unknown, but always past our conjoined eyes. And yet do I look, with our merged eyes, filtered by a century’s discoloration, forgive me Walt, for now recalling sights that you first observed, that I witness first hand, 100 and fifty years later, sharing a stolen wisdom with you. Todays new millionth sunrise bids me stand, observe the river traffic from my kitchen window, accept that my takings are debts, a few, even paid back, yet, most still owed, for the origins of all my poems, are oddly and oddity old, unoriginal, second, third handed as I look through the eyes of the dead, and yours too, this my unoriginal, original sin.... (pretending  I am a poet)                                                    §§§§§ 6:24AM Manhattan Island, By the East River Thu. May 14, 2020
0
May 14, 2020
May 14, 2020 at 8:33 AM UTC
After Whitman: “and you shall possess the origin of all poems“
<> “Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,) You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.” Song of Myself (1892 version) by WALT WHITMAN                                                       §§§ *These admonitions are the ten conditionals commandments of straight talk, boy, you’ve spent a life lessening and lesson-learning and all laid before you for taking, gaining, but for what? for naught? Start this day, having spent my night with you, possessing less than what is my now completed, this, my unfinished commencement, provisioned, a simultaneous beginning and finishing, emptying a void of fulfilling questioning. What does this life desire of me, that it granted and then removed, the knowledge of perfection? leaving me striving, writhing, shivering unceasingly, in my saddened, bursting, hacking and hackneyed chest. I walk the same cobblestone streets, observing the descendants of your ancestral tugs portaging, paying homage to East River tides, carrying those goods, the origins of all poems, from where? to where? unknown, but always past our conjoined eyes. And yet do I look, with our merged eyes, filtered by a century’s discoloration, forgive me Walt, for now recalling sights that you first observed, that I witness first hand, 100 and fifty years later, sharing a stolen wisdom with you. Todays new millionth sunrise bids me stand, observe the river traffic from my kitchen window, accept that my takings are debts, a few, even paid back, yet, most still owed, for the origins of all my poems, are oddly and oddity old, unoriginal, second, third handed as I look through the eyes of the dead, and yours too, this my unoriginal, original sin.... (pretending  I am a poet)                                                    §§§§§ 6:24AM Manhattan Island, By the East River Thu. May 14, 2020
Continue reading...
69
Upon your body were the littlest of imperfections that caused you to miss the beauty and the art they had created Scars Discoloration Lack of pigment Combined they have made perfection itself
0
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
art museum
I am leaking silently, like pipes beneath the kitchen sink You find out that mold had nested, accumulated in the corners and caused the floors to rise up Heave their wooden planks and produce discoloration,   My chest is that floor and the water has no place to go so it soaks and strains, ***** sighs, releases fluid in t e n d r i l s.
0
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 3:55 PM UTC
Chaz.
I only wish I would meet you Surrounded by daisies Infinitely shining and spinning Only your eyes keeping me caught In one reality. If I could just touch your hand and shiver with elation. Fingertips playfully mingling, unaware of the rest of each other for the moment, and the universe would sigh with warm relief. Simply I want you to hold me like you've never held a thing before me, like you've never even known what it is to hold something before your hands reached round to grip my weakened body. Weak in all the best ways, Exhausted from happiness, my face pained from how often you make it smile. And I'll be as perfectly content as a leaf on the breeze, swept up and falling, falling fast in ecstasy. And I'll be as agonizingly breakable, as a thin glass ornament, dangling helplessly, catching all the light of the world, prisms of color reflected in my eyes. Everything about you will be gorgeous. every hair, every discoloration, every subtle expression will be another reason I'll have to love you unconditionally. Without even the condition that you love me back. Without even the hope that I will have you forever. Without even the guarantee that you won't cut me off and watch when I shatter.
0
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
Hope for Love
I cried too much but was it enough I can't run hiding the turth to all I must be done crying pain of blooding tears the sickness I have will never heal the scars the discoloration of my life will never show depressed in my only feels doleful face that I try not to have any motion so long to being successful strain to pains holing might I will never win the fight I cried so many tears through life can't say sorrow will come I can say no elated this will some Cried enough, done
0
Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 1:56 PM UTC
Cried