"dizzyingly" poems
effortlessly wearing a cigarrette on her lips
head tilted high with one hand on her hips
a dizzyingly incandescent, nicotine laugh
i think i'd die for her
write that on my epitaph
Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 1:28 AM UTC
rewind; replay
we're standing in a canopy of sunlight
and laughing, constantly.
our faces are tired of moving up
but our eyes are used to crinkling;
they fold, and shut, and open like buds
with the spread and shrink of our grins, in
and out, with our lungs.
Pauze. Zoom.
Your nails are chipping now, but
You're really a halfwit,
So that doesn't deter you the least bit
From scratch-scratch-scratching at their shook ends:
They fall apart as we fall out.
We're spinning, we're dizzyingly quick,
Hurtling at the speed of 28,800 kilometres an hour; we're brisk
At best. (Inconceivable at worst.)
And I can feel, already, you slipping away.
You're outside of my grasp; you're far out.
rewind; replay.
We're ripping at the seams;
Our faces are like bad make-up
That doesn't move with our smiles;
Our eyes stay impassive,
Uninterested at best. Incensed at worst.
The crinkles in their corners are crusted
And new folds form on the frowns of our foreheads.
We're smothering each other in pillow talk and blankets.
Flash-forward, play.
We're bathed in rain, we're in a
Canyon, in a chasm.
We don't know salt from wound
Or snake from bite. We
Bring out the worst in our best selves.
We're drowning in suitcases and bedding.
We let it fill our lungs and we
Don't look back.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC
the cold had caused much restlessness
within our people's heart
the vengeful hand guiding their hate
would tear our lives apart.
the sun was setting on our reign
and night was closing in
worried visions peirced our sleep
and burrowed deep within.
the verdent hues of spring were near
but just beyond our reach
for on the ides they took us too
a land of snowy beasts
so there we stayed until the sun
rose dizzyingly high
and when the ****** snows did melt,
they brought us back to die
Imprisoned in a gilded cage
with summer drawing near
the revolutionists appraoched
injecting us with fear
we had our frozen dew drops royal
stitched around our waists
a final effort to release
our family from this fate
then when the moon was high at night
when evil things do crawl
they took us down below the house
lined up against a wall
their bullets pierced our fathers heart
murdered our brother too
and diamond corsets failed to stop
royal blood from running blue
it poured out over all the ground
the watchmaker had won
the royal lineage was dead
our priviledged lives undone
the vessels we had once possessed
endured the desecration
of acid baths and deep mine shafts
and burning mutilation
and so about two weeks inside
the seventh month, july
the last of russia's royalty
would bid their lives goodbye.
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 5:19 AM UTC
I Have This New Problem.
This New Self Crippling.
Self Doubt.
Slithering It's Way Inside Me.
You See I Have This New Problem.
This New
Tick,
Tick,
Tick
This New Something - Standing Sidewise In The Back Of My Mind, That Makes Me Insane.
I
N
S
A
N
E
Instability Like Crumbling Cinderblocks.
Convinced That My Muse Will Leave Me.
Get Fed Up With My Messy Bedroom And 5 Hour A Night Sleep Schedule. Decide I Don't Appreciate Her Enough. She'd Write A Love Song About Leaving Me. The Red Lipstick She'd Wear And Yellow Cab That Would Take Her Away.
Nauseous.
Like Sick To My Stomach.
Like Dizzyingly Drowsy, Like Taking Four Hour Naps Between Work, School, Homework,
And This Thing Called Obligation,
This Thing Called Obligation,
This Thing Called Obligation.
Obligated To Myself.
Redefined By A Number On A Score Sheet, Let it Tell Me I Wasn't Worth The Effort Anymore.
Let It Tell Me To Give Up.
Let It Wake Me Up At 3 am To Write This.
Sanity, Like The Thing I'm Sure I Must Have Misplaced.
Like Anxiety.
Like This Inability To Stop Eating Myself Alive, Separating Fingertip From Skin, Biting Down To The Quick, So Everything I Touch, Hurts Me.
Like Telling Myself No.
Like Staying Awake Seventeen Hours, And Seventeen Assignments Later, Like Seventeen Years Of This.
Like Enough Already.
** I Said Enough.**
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC
my dog was full of smiles
when she was in pain,
from the ends of
her large, worn paws
to the greying hairs of
her head, because she
was dying -
but we gave her pizza
as her last meal since she
always
loved it.
more than us.
more than her life, probably,
even when she was so dizzyingly
overcome with
dementia and arthritis and hurt, so much
*******
hurt.
and i cried when we lost her
because it was so sudden, sobbed awful, wet tears into
my brother's torn t-shirt
since we didn't have time to change into better
clothes when we put her down. to help her. to save her.
yet somehow, knowing that we
gave her up
hurts worse than if we'd
lost her in her sleep.
and someday, i might
get into a car accident, and
my guts will splatter along the walls of some beat-down car in brooklyn
and someone i never knew will have
to clean me up. my friends
will lose me my family
will lose me my significant other
will lose me. they may
never
get over it.
so i will
send reckless text messages
and tell them that i love them because ******* it
if they don't love me back, i will
not wait for signs that
will never come, i will
learn four new languages so
i can meet so many more of the people who
may change me, i will
go to therapy and learn
from it, i will
create art that bleeds from my fingertips, i will
weave patterns into the fabric
of other people's lives, i will
hug my little brother when he
needs one, i will
kiss them with reckless abandon even when my parents do not
want me to, i will
be okay with who i am, i will
work on who i am, i will
love who i am.
i will
eat my ************* pizza,
just like my dog.
in case i get into that car accident tomorrow.
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
A perfect end to perfect day.
The sun has set, is on her way
To pleasure others; never stay.
We borrow every ray.
And once again the darkness
Flows, the breeze has turned a force that
Blows the day away, each creature
Knows: An infant thunder grows.
I went to bed to catch some sleep,
But once again the skies do weep
And here, instead of slumber deep
Awake myself I keep
To witness such magnificence,
As lightning's dance in radiance.
It draws for me omnipotence;
It awes my every sense.
So here I lie with cat on bed
Who doesn't even raise her head
When Tor throws hammer up
Ahead. Cares only that she's fed.
Such comfort I have found I find
In Nature seeming most unkind.
And nearly dizzyingly unwind
From daytime, now behind.
My eyes turn heavy to the sound
Of power unlike any found
Within the skies or on the ground.
I'm safe, there's gods around.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
10 BEAUTIFUL POETS LIST/CHALLENGE
Hi there. I think you are beautiful people and poets if your name is on this list.
Here is the list.
There are more and I have done another one like this but if I just paste every poet I like on this site's name then it doesn't meant anything there are too many so I'm going to post later ones with the names of the poets I really like but I'm going to limit it to ten per post.
I strongly suggest you check out their poetry because it is amazing.
The order of the names has nothing to do with the quality or my favor they are all equally loved by me in different ways for their work which is all a different shade of beautiful.
I invite everyone to post a poem with 10 beautiful poets' names on this site that people should check out.
Yet another one of my challenges. If you do the "10 Beautiful Poets Challenge" add "10beautifulpoets" as a hashtag so people can find it.
Also feel free to message me if you post one of these so I can check them out too :)
Just a great way to let people know about specific beautiful poets out there.
Include something about their poetry specific to that poet beside their name. :)
Here is my list for the day:
Pamela Rae moving and powerful seriously incredible work also super amazing person
Frank Ruland Amazing person amazing poetry amazing work
Just Melz Strikingly stunning poetry deep and brilliant pieces brave person so strong
Jennifer Weiss Wonderful poet and person lovely work very heart-touching
Bipolar Hypocrite phenomenal poet and strong person work is extraordinary in a magnificently unprecedented way
The Girl Who Loved You Lovely souled person, lovely poet, work is gripping and positively outstandingly fantastic in every possible way imaginable
Elsa Angelica Achingly tragically and beautifully relatable poetry internally and externally beautiful poet, her poetry is beyond exceptional it speaks for itself a MUST read type of poet
Frankie Crognale Addictive poetry exquisite person with a flawless soul strong and insightful poet with an eye and heart for seeing deeper into life
Nurul Unbelievable poetry marvelous person and work is so perspective altering and dizzyingly astonishing
Starry Night Breathtaking poetry. Literally. You need to read it, it will tug at your soul. Awesome person and I can see Starry Night's spectacular poetic heart expressed through the words of her work.
So yeah!
Check them out! :D
Repost if you get the chance so more people see it and check out these beautiful poets!!
#10beautifulpoetschallenge
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 12:56 AM UTC
Peering over the top of the steep hill,
The other side seems so dizzyingly close
One push away
Sisypher, her slate gray pants and matching jacket are
Torn and bloodstained.
Her hands gripped so tightly are inexplicably loosened
Then a pause
A tumbling noise so frightenly loud
Smashing, splintering, shredding shards of granite
Sisypher narrowly jumps aside mesmerized
As the massive boulder skips and hops down the hill
Roaring until there is a hush.
Silent tears stain the cheeks of all who view the spectacle
The lonely figure at the top
Begins her descent.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
The mariachi band
Is playing dizzyingly
Next to our table
The guitarists
Hair wetly slicked
Back
"We live off of
Tips sir,
Anything
Will help.
Now, something
Romantic for
Your woman"
When they are
Finished their frantic
Strumming
I had him a
Folded 5
They dash off
To the next
Table
I slug a pounder
The beer inside is
Warm and the water
That runs through
The city is the
Same color as the
Water in Disney
World
Dyed that sickly
Turquoise grey
Tour boats cut
Small waves that
Lap the sidewalks
And the fat tourists
Feed tortilla chips to
Swarming clouds
Of small brown
Birds
Another warm
Swallow of beer
And the sunglasses
Perched in my
Greasy hair
Who needs a
******* job
Give me warm
Beer and sickly
Fake water and
A table with her
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
At thirteen years old,
I learn that
not all mermaids are like Ariel--
some mermaids are sirens,
femme fatales of the seven sea
who lure sailors to their drownings
with sweet, nectared voices.
Still, I wish to don the life of a siren,
whose danger appears
dizzyingly seductive to me.
I have become fascinated
with the dark and the peculiar,
you know,
and, as a result, I too
have undergone a dark, peculiar
evolution--
and, as literature has dictated,
such a character as myself
is to be scrutinized
under an omniscient perspective:
She wears thick, purple eyeliner
and dresses only in
heavy blacks and deep blues,
an abrupt transition
from her previous adoration for
pastels and ruffled sleeves.
But it is not only her countenance
that is indicative of this disturbed youth--
there are the books she reads,
tales of death, gore, and
other macabre eccentricities.
Her favourite titles
are those by Edgar Allan Poe.
How suiting then,
that she should be an
Anabel Lee in the making--
"her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away...
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.-- "
she just doesn't realize it yet--
that she is a drowning girl impending,
that she was never to be the siren, after all,
but the poor fool
who succumbed to the siren's
dreadful tides.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 3:18 PM UTC
Caution taken (lathering
exposed epidermis with sun screen)
against harmful innocuous
rich (Times New Roman)
12 font ask tick sun yet sen sate)
refulgent radiant balm
unequivocal panacea medicinal luxuriant calm
on par with a old
sister wives tale remedy me late mom,
would magically construe
to alleviate home sickness qualm
post pledge initiation invocation befriending
Jason the Argonauts and Major Tom
dizzyingly zipping thru space
in search of the golden fleece,
(which acquisition
ranked as a no brainer)
which recollection, sans above exploit flashed
(at greased lightening speed) this peace
full May afternoon, a pitch perfect spring day,
one adequately oxygenated
air supply crowded house
legendary fete of the rising son momentarily
sol limb lee flared concluding with reverberating
(though decades elapsed
since fortuitous galactic heralded
world wide web panegyric
broadcast cosmos wide),
then with just as quick
memorialized recollection
prominently recalled,
said remembrance as things past
vis a vis denouement across Universe
with **** lifelong (black hole sun hopping)
capping achievement did surcease.
Ah...such blinding realistic provocation sparked
via pure imagination
upon one earthly terrestrial beast
Sunkist soaking raiment sequestered
within corner nook decreased
with onset of dusk, a mind bending
dreamy experience least
expected while nonchalantly fantasies take flight
basking (with robins)
in an angulated nook sky height
upon premises of Highland
Manor Apartment out of sight
from the buzzer (I may as well be
a million miles away),
thus poetic justice end trite.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
I was on a freezing
Train platform when
A cursing man approached
Me
His smile already queued up
"Hey man,
I tried to ride the
Train with an old
Ticket"
He turned the ticket
Over and over
In his hand
To accentuate this
Point and continued
"And i have 9 bucks
Could you spot me
For the rest?"
"I have no cash"
I lied
As most do
When confronted for
Money by a stranger
"You don't need cash
You can use cards on
The machines"
He said pointing
Towards the bank
Of awkwardly standing
Ticket kiosks
Our only companions
In the chilly night air
"Nah man, i'm good"
I said
His expression changed
Not to anger but
Disappointment
"Well, thanks anyway"
He walked off cursing
A broken trail of white
Breath twisting dizzyingly
Away from his head
Standing there I felt bad
That I hadn't helped him
He only needed 7 more dollars
And I had six crisp twenties
Folded neatly in my wallet
And two credit cards
Nowhere near maxed out
For some reason
I started to interpret myself
As part of the problem of mass
Apathy amongst men
In turn feeling slimy
Unnatural
I made a point to lap the
Station multiple times
To find this man and give
Him more than he needed
Not to help him
But to prove to
Myself that I wasn't
A phlegmatic
******
I caught him inside
With another young man
About my age
With a softer face
Giving him a sandwich
And a few crumpled bills
They traded a few words
And laughed
I returned to my
Perch on the platform
Alone in the
Freezing night air
Later the man came out
Smoking a black and mild
And waited next to me for the
Train
When we got in he only sat
A few seats from me
I saw him take the
Ticket he told me was old
And hand it to the
Attendant
Who punched it and moved
On
Later we made
Accidental eye
Contact down the
Aisle
He queued the same
Smile and turned away
From me
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 7:43 PM UTC
A sad visage — is it that leaves cannot hold snow
only roughened needle may cradle it's cold crystalline,
a fresh-blossomed love as lost as the calypso.
God's chiseled sculptures cast out, serpentine.
The somber minuet, glistening à pas menus upon her face.
Dizzyingly fluttered through cusping sapphire lens
each tuft, each dune of wind-sculped embrace.
Do you know even your warmth harkens her ends?
How could you? Lovingly, lost under peaks of heaven.
Heat of helios as your reflective love soon parts —
no fault of your own, nor allowance of concession.
It was too bright of a burn, your blazing hearts.
Alabaster draped darling, you hold on so tight.
I promise, I swear, birds will sing of your light.
Jan 22, 2022
Jan 22, 2022 at 3:19 AM UTC
If, familiarity and formal views choose
Why not Me? Over your petty pretty portrayal.
May it might be that my graceless train wreck
chain of always pleasing those, and these, we fools
As lovely and well practiced a beauty spinning
pole-struck, thighs, eyes, dizzyingly ****
as the version before, this one knew to do
Or use any, every, curve, as lustful and, oh.
Let the vibes and lights try to chase that
which I know only in fantasized thoughts
cause though I know, you know I do want
I'm well passed given up and chasing new
trading being treated well, for the hell you
do your unknowing best to sell the fool that
knew you so well.
Dec 22, 2021
Dec 22, 2021 at 11:18 PM UTC
If Sisyphus Had a Sister
Peering over the top of the steep hill,
The other side seems so dizzyingly close
One push away
Sisypher, her slate gray pants and matching jacket are
Torn and bloodstained.
Her hands, gripped so tightly, are inexplicably loosened
Then a pause
A tumbling noise so frighteningly loud
Smashing, splintering, shredding shards of granite
Sisypher narrowly jumps aside mesmerized
As the massive boulder skips and hops down the hill
Roaring until there is a hush.
Silent tears stain the cheeks of all who view the spectacle
The lonely figure at the top
Begins her descent.
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
Any way that you look at it, it’s a deciding factor, benign or malignant. Could be the wind.
It stands there beckoning me with a wink and a nod. I take my first baby steps as prescribed.
The background music of my childhood lends a sinister tone as I gradually ascend untethered.
It’s now an obstacle course. No hint of what is to come. No direction, too much to lose.
I’m not alone now. I have a partner on this journey upwards. He remains a stranger to me.
The zigzags are dizzyingly connected. The creation of a new life, far off course for years.
Oh, but those were the days best enjoyed in the rosy rear mirror. Those indelible moments to savor.
The fever of adult childhood, the pull and tug of senses and desire. Passion saddled with angst.
A slowing approaching a slight deviation of the trees, sensed more that seen. A drop in temperature.
I find myself looking down more now, some would say backwards. My feet are moving with resistance.
A faint sound surrounds me, and the air becomes heavy. I am so close now that I can feel the gravity.
The journey is over. I have reached the apex. No more choices. I cannot retrace my steps. It’s up.
Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 2:28 PM UTC