"dissappearing" poems
There's an oasis in my desert.
Palm trees and koi live here where sands are soil and winds are thick and wet. Cloths that fall from sky to floor, made from a million counts of thread. A beige place, now pastel mixtures of blue and green. Unlike anything the gods could ever dream.
In my body there's a desert oasis on which even I haven't laid my sight. And as I sit here still, I feel it moving and humming like a generator when there's no light. Vibrating auroras through the skies of an African night.
In my soul there's a desert oasis. One that has betrayed the sight of many as mirage. A dissappearing trick, a myth, a facade. Here is where the weak are left for dead. The cruel collaboration between Hathor and Set.
In my body, where my heart stays,
between the fragile spaces,
there's an hourglass that holds my soul in which there's a desert...
where you'll find an oasis.
May 28, 2023
May 28, 2023 at 3:11 PM UTC
Memory swirling me,
cold golden opticals,
forcing a dagger.
Dissappearing heart syndrome.
Taking over all that's left.
Mingling in a corner of empty,
Holding the hand of uncertainty,
Butterflies die and fall into my stomach,
Normal and i were never friends.
And im still swimming through a memory,
Cold bumps on my skin...
Wearing thin.
Jun 23, 2011
Jun 23, 2011 at 2:33 PM UTC
Anxiety
Inside of me
Never show
Society
Just be strong, keep moving
Right along, it's your choosing
To feel this way
That's what they say
But they don't know this feeling
Twenty four seven my stomach is reeling
And just before I thought of dissappearing
Too bad there's no running
Feel sad for what? Nothing
I thought I was strong
But it wasn't for long
Bottled it up and now I'm broken up
Can't even soak it up
Lack of emotion and feel like exploding
My ego's imploding, body's eroding
So that's how I was
Until I...found drugs
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
It was a Spanish night,
outside of his tiny cobbed webbed wooden window,
a war announced itself,
a war without Rifles,
Men,
or Tanks and trucks and grenades and black leather boots,
but a war of something
something more deadly,
something terribly cold,cruel,and
beautiful,
in the spanish night,
men loved women,
men loved men,
women loved men,
women loved women,
Lamps exploding with glorious saintly lights,
illuminating the streets like a ball room for the aristocrats,
everything glistened outside,
and he sat beside his old window,
wearing a ***** old white t-shirt,
lighting a cigarette,
he felt as if he was God,
high above,
looking over everyone,
couples holding hands,
girls in sun dresses,
red shoes,
blue shoes,
green shoes,
yellow eyes,
blue eyes,
red fingernails,
purple fingernails,
brown hair,
black hair,
yellow hair,
white teeth,
bright yellow shirts and beautiful brown skin,
the night was good tonight,
his tiny lamp shimmered on his hairy face,
smiling,
his cigarette smiling with him,
He looked over this,
wild landscape of lovers,
music playing,
women laughing,
kissing,
Being God would be terribly cruel,
he would say to himself,
lighting another cigarette,
this is his lover,
his music,
his,
girl in a bright yellow dress,
with her hair down,
and her eyes are large and brown,
her smile the wingspan of a crow,
Looking out over his Heaven
his window,
a tiny spider crawls across the glass,
stopping,
perhaps looking over the dancers,
the lovers,
the kissers,
the youth,
the night people,
He stared at the spider,
“i know that feeling spider”
he said
“looking over all these dresses,and these dancing feet”
he would say
“it's a curse”
“being godn' all”
and the spider would crawl away,
dissappearing into nothing,
maybe underneath the carpet,
where Dogs or mice have chewed tiny holes,
the clock on the dresser hit 1AM,
and the dancers,
the long haired women,
the men,
the dresses and red shoes and lipstick lips and eyes,
were beginning to leave,
Standing up he walks to his closet,
pulling out a jacket,
pulling out a pair of brown pants,
slipping on socks,
then his leather shoes,
his glasses,
walking down the stairs from his apartment,
he had forgotten his cigarettes,
down the hallway of his apartment,
walking back to his room,
a man and women laughed,
her teeth were white,
and she glowed like the flick of a lighter at night,
when the electric bill hasn't been paid,
he unlocks his door,
and grabbing his pack of cigarettes,
by his Heaven window,
he notices the spider on the window,
no body is out side dancing,
and the Street lights,
seem more peaceful,
and welcoming,
And he walks out into the street,
smelling to-do-soon rain,
his footsteps,
loud,
clacking on the pavement,
like a horses hooves,
and he lights a cigarette,
finally alone with the night,
no longer God.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 8:05 PM UTC
The Summer is here...or was, once.
I remember it, beautiful and green.
The lush hues unbroken
shining in the golden sun.
green stretching for miles,
and i loved it.
But soon the fields began to change.
The sun burns too much.
moisture evaporating,
air becoming dry.
And the green was slowly dying,
on the lips of Summer's mouth,
and just hot breath was left
and even that was dissappearing.
The Fall was coming, waiting.
For Summer to leave.
Gently helping
by dousing the trees with kerosene
and it dropped the match,
while i was pleading, begging
for Summer to stay.
But the fire had started,
the leaves began combusting
and i could do nothing
but let the world be set ablaze.
The green melted into
golds and oranges.
Reds and browns.
And i was left
with falling leaves
and a promise
that Summer would come again.
Sep 25, 2010
Sep 25, 2010 at 9:16 AM UTC
well
THE OIL HAS STOPPED FLOWING!!
THE OIL IN THE GULF IS QUICKLY DISSIPATING AND DISSAPPEARING!!
THERE IS NO NEED FOR EXPENSIVE CLEANING UP!
SOON IT WILL BE PLUGGED COMPLETELY AND FOREVER!
.....
while obama remains silent! remains silent!! remains silent!!!
........
IF YOU ACCEPT THIS LIE
THEN I SUPPOSE YOUR GAME PLANE IS JUST TO REMAIN DEAD
THEN THEY WON'T EVEN HAVE TO **** YOU
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 11:26 AM UTC
I swim.
I race, down the ice cold river.
My numb feet scrape the rocks as they hit.
The water trys to consume me.
To pull me down, to love me forever.
I fight.
I gasp for air, only to find there is none.
Im in trouble.
Im going down further.
Into blackness.
The light is so high.
I wonder if I can reach it.
I push up.
I reach the surface, gasp a breath of air, and get ****** down again.
This time I dont struggle.
I am so out of breath from struggleing.
I actually feel my cheeks smiling.
The light from the surface is dissappearing.
But the further down I go, I see a new light at the bottom.
I hit the sand.
And suddenly, I am consumed by a light.
A bright light.
That says its hear to save me.
And I can breath again.
And it feels nice.
Feb 18, 2011
Feb 18, 2011 at 7:57 AM UTC
Remembering what I want to forget. Unable to recall what I need to remember. When did it start? Refusing to ask you because the revelation would make it real. More than it already is. Other pains kept occupying space. It had to wait. Writing it would make it real, trying to forget it becomes harder, there's a record. Is this the root of fear? Afraid of being in a fort not alone but sola. Talks or hints of it. Can't remember, time has a tendency to distort the memories. The motorbikes go by, loud, exhaust, music and maybe plans of it, it's hard to recall. Locked away, innocence dissappearing by the second, or maybe it vanished before that day. When did it start? It's difficult to know. It happened, it didn't feel forced, felt mutual but willingness at five does not seem plausible. Was it that young? Remembering that, it's complicated, you could answer it but forgetfulness gets in the way of asking you, or remembering to ask you slips by. Hard to tell the difference. There was a school day once. Morning it was, the shoes were being tied, memory says that no one else did the tying. Can shoes be tied at five? Can't recall. But being forced to grow up has a way of challenging stages. You said independence was a quality that was shown at five. Where did it go? You asked. It hasn't really, it just shows itself differently. After the shoes were tied, at five there's rejection. Knowledge of wrong and right. Was it really that young? Hard to believe it could be. After that there's no more recollection. Was it before innocence started to die or after? I can't recall and I'm not sure I really want to.
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 6:33 AM UTC
I once dreamt
Of a child beneath a tree, in a field off the edge of a small farm.
Small farm that owned large landscapes, and passing by through the freeway were the sad broken horses. All the beasts of burden that were more burden than beast, and they dribbled blood from their noses and they limped when they strolled.
They passed in one lane, while the cars passed in another. Fast ferraris and hot wheel model look alikes. Breezing by barnyards and dead horses trying to live with blinders on the corners of their eyes.
This little boy sat resting under a large tree, filling his lungs with horse heaves. On the side of a road looking out across the fence that separated his land and his curiosity.
And I couldnt find myself in the dream, I was nowhere. Floating as a molecule of oxygen, painting the scenic ocean of grain and land, exhausted by the proud sun ray filling the eyes of a boy under a tree. And I continued to wonder how long the boy would sit. If he would stand and run and fly away in to the sunset, into the moon setting, before the land was dark and crisp in its perfect way.
Never once did I wonder why the moon was dissappearing with the fog of the sunlight. And why the stars would not shine here on these never ending hooves, on these tire treads bleeding steam into the air.
A leaf drifted onto the boys lap and i found myself, watching the sound of the wind pull moonlit tides of grass and grain towards the boy. The sunlight placed it's fingers on his tears and dried them, wiping them away.
It was then I saw, this boy was blind. My final moments as the leaf in the wind, falling by the side of a boy. Then falling on his shoulder, and i witnessed death through thousands of green soldiers, rustling through the static of the air and closing their eyes on the floor.
The horses still clopping out of tune. The cars not slowing down. It would be pitch black soon. And I'd come to realize this boy, through collective images of falling friends, drifting deadmen. Like a puzzle, I saw, he was lost. And could not find his home. The sounds betrayed his ears, and the pitch black was not silent, as the last bit of light sunk away beyond the horizon.
He was here, in tattered rags, his eyes were blind and he could not hear past the road. The sun and moon would burn his tears away, but in the dark his eyes would water the roots, his skin would tear and become the bark. He could never go home, but he would always be needed.
My eyes closed in the dark, his eyes remained open all the time. Somehow, I found we were both lost.
I was the wind, and he was the earth.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
Thank you for letting me hold him.
Thank you for letting him ask if I wanted anything to eat
Thank you for his side hug.
Thank you for my frantic search for him
Thank you for our awkward dance
Thank you for all the eyes staring and all the awwings at us as I was about to kiss him
Thank you for his embrassed Not it front of everybody
Thank you for dissappearing as we kissed.
Thank you for leaving me just hanging there wanting more
Thank you.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 9:55 AM UTC
You are the wind and the sea
You are the sun and the stars
You are everything
When I look around all I see is
Everything reminds me of you I am
Lost in translation
No words can describe
You
Are not a three letter word
Or a sound is someone's mouth
You
Are not a simple pronoun used to be refered to
You
Are the galaxy in my universe
The ray of sunshine on a rainy day
You
Are not an exact definition of the word
You
Are so much more than
You
Do not know what it is like to be
Me
A simple two letter word which is never
A sound in someone's mouth I
Am not recognizable or worthy of attention
I
Am slowly dissappearing into oblivion
I
Am a one letter word never used in any way
I
Am neither one or the other
I
Used to believe I would be a part of
Them
But I do not exist in their eyes
I
Am only a one letter word and
They
Are so much more than I could ever hope to be
You
Can grow one letter bigger but
I
Am to far away from
You
So I cease my useless efforts because
I
Am only a one letter word
Which is never relevant as it is never used
My mouth never opens to make me appear
Behind the mask of silence I hide my name
I
Am not a one letter word but
I feel like an unsignificant piece of life
I
Do not want to disappear but
Who am I?
A one letter word in a silent mouth attached to an invisible soul.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 8:19 AM UTC
Dreams escape the wide-eyed
Changing from seeds to trees
Bees make the honey
And the seasons dye the leaves
Passing through the doorway
Catching on a cobweb
Guess I missed the rain
As a lay disenchanted
Like the wind that caressed my cheek
On a ledge looking down
Wondering just how high up
I was
From the wayward ground
Like a hologram-bodied shapeshifter
Only contained through rhetoric
Reappearing as a prayer in
Some medieval limerick
Thoughts splitting
The crime of spoken words
With no soul
(Judgements)
Opinions about things you don't know
You weren't at my graduation
And you won't see me marry
You picked escape over me and
For that I'm sorry
Dissappearing visions
Awake from some dream
Trying to remember the sensation of
Falling
Blistered peace in a home that's
Burning down
Dancing in the flames
Twirling like a sad clown
Like the conversation on ice
And stirred thrice for charm
Chasing after fairytale's you
Once held in your arms
It's been hard without you
You were my best friend
Looking back then looking
Forward
Hoping to see you sometime again
The cosmos freckled asteroid
Sparks
Across the walls in spray-painted
Words
Gleaming like opal shards on the
Necklaces of wandering bards
Ceasless is the silence
Bruised like a peach
Sharing my song freely to
See how far I can reach
Addicted to redemption
Quiet after the storm
When life hands you lemons
You make lemon flavored ***
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 2:34 AM UTC
Scream! Scream! To the heavens I scream! For one drop of mercy, I scream! On the parched earth a bended knee raises the dust. Tear soaked eyes refuse to raise the brow. Rivers of love dissappearing upon the cheek. Not a hand reaches down, not even one. As I scream! And scream! From heaven a gentle beam, yet I only scream! The blackest of hearts slowly dies with each agonizing thought. Darkness overshadows the glorious love. Blood runs cold and washes away with a dissappearing love. Upon the cheek memories fade and the ravens devour the soul. And, I scream! For the return of love I scream! No greater agony persist than that of true loves dagger to the heart. For love I scream! For the final breath I scream! For the shadows and confines of darkness I scream! For silence and a deserved rest I scream!
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
I accepted plea and promise for two-dollar chorus
perhaps my bargain is between two socal natives whom argued eternally with their voices
it would be humorous, a confused face and a distinguished disguise,
still a jagged faced bordercolie will understand how to open the cages at the right times....where are the mice and squirrells? where are the pigeons for the crows (crows for mice) and hummingbirds?
****** there ought to be birdfeed and dinner squirrels that bask in their breakfast by dining till the next full moon
emerge fat and insist on treadmills and marathons and kickboxing
only one can find such a annulment in shanghai's incense-filled withstanding structures, adjacent to the bank and mcdonalds
you will find a squiggle that keeps dissappearing down the sewer drains and sidewalks
it knows something, or at least contains
sulfites and antioxidants
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 4:21 AM UTC