"equivocations" poems
I've a sinking friendship,
Torpedoed by the ********
And listing.
The first mate mutinied.
Once a blood brother,
Like no other;
An intimate
At an imminent end,
An alter-ego
More than a friend.
I've been too patient,
Veered off course
With understanding.
I'm quite sure
This Pythias
Would run and leave me
Hanging.
I'm on a cliff
And won't hang on
To a blade of trust,
A fawning pawn.
He had my back,
I turn,
He's gone.
This partisan
Must part
A homeless homeboy,
A dissembling fraud.
No longer a mainstay,
He's insecure,
His equivocations
Make lines blur,
I don't believe
Him anymore.
He really needs a soul-mate,
Classmate, playmate,
But he's become a reprobate,
Lying prostrate,
Lying up straight.
I'll drown my Boswell
In my inkwell;
No longer
An advocate.
The laughs have left,
Yes,
I'm bereft,
But I'll catch the wind.
My course is true.
This friendship
Can't be salvaged.
It's scuttled,
And I won't
Sink with you.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
She spun a scarf to hide her shamed head
from a silken thread of equivocations
that led her lovers into walls.
She ate from a spoon of clay and earth,
saturated by her tongue
mud in the depths of her bleeding throat
and the towns people said
'May her mendacity lead her into hell's bastille,
may her sins bury her before the breath leaves her lungs.'
and she was silent.
While her judgment day had arrived
and she marched on quietly towards the grave
of the rogue,
I felt her eyes catch mine in the crowd
and I tasted the humanity,
I smelled the anguish.
Sentenced to death by the thirsty fingers
of an un-dead society,
feeding on the remainders of true, unyielding life.
She walked on towards the land of slumber,
a conscious antithesis
of justice.
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
Serendipity would it be the correct to use that one
Or is it just hallucinations that got me thinking maybe love do exist
Trying to fight a battle that the enemy has already won
Mind getting disoriented
By every thought that goes thru
It.. Contemplating ....
What is this foreign feeling in my heart and center stomach
Right at the center
Could it be that rare and endangered monster..
that preys on the weak and
Blinded
Serendipity could that be you bringing LOVE my way
What a foreign concept even hearing of it
Sends chills down my spine
Such a concept that wins our heart through equivocations
A blind mind fooled thinking that the rare monster has been brought their way
But they fall victim to it's sweet and 'innocent' nemesis LUST
LUST LOVE inseparable twins so they say
Jumping up and down on a trampoline just before landing into the conclusion that
Maybe it's 'LO(U)V(S)E(T)
How can I tell
Time will tell
How much time must pass
Time will tell
Disoriented by a monster brought
By the art of heaven's paragon
You are what my heart
Says you are
Should I trust it or ignore it
Is it LO(U)V(S)E(T). Paying me a visit again
And leaving me broken down into a thousand pieces
Like a molecule
Serendipity is that you
Knocking at the door
Open come in
Make yourself at home
Nice to meet you
What do you have for me this time
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
Time and circumstance exposed their twisted bodies,
Not caring to ask if I were ready.
I didn’t ask to empathize or recognize a feeling,
That may be leaving as soon as I taste it.
I didn’t ask to be something the wind could have it’s way with,
Someone that hangs on a word and can be debilitated by a look.
I remember welcoming the ground, in search of pennies on the sidewalk.
The way my granny taught me to.
If I had a care, I didn’t feel it there or where it ought be.
All of my concern was in getting back home,
because my feet grew tired,
and my eyes weary of the sandstone;
I wasn’t ready to not stare at the ground.
Somewhere on the dismembered pavement,
I grew up,
looked up,
to see someone locking eyes on the same track,
something was felt and I cannot give it back.
I wish I could.
This feeling,
that I surely did not inherit,
is not interested in my betterment.
I want to be a grifter.
jingle my cup,
make a quick buck,
and say good luck to any fool who dare give me that stare,
that screams for me to give it back.
Because I won’t.
After the last one who dared,
I can’t say I want to be paired,
Impaired,
lost in a circular pool of equivocations and ambiguity.
Forward not backward,
Trusting that I can trust trust.
Or I can trust the sidewalk,
since it will not cease to be,
like you or her or him or me.
I much rather look for pennies,
knowing they won’t look back.
Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 3:20 PM UTC
This one word
sums up it all
a collection of events
feelings
rights wronged
Why
I want to know.
give me the reason
why you acted so
Equivocations
not explanations
is what you fed me back
telling me what i wanted to hear
just so id come back
Why,
a question
left unanswered
a need unsatisfied.
I'll come to my own conclusions
to why
you let my heart die
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
We deserve sounding boards of truth,
Not sponges of deception.
My head is full of lies, equivocations and beguiling stories.
Who can I trust?
The poor?
The limb-lost warrior?
Residents in Cell Block A through Z?
Patients found out but can't breathe.
We must be sound,
And let the voices of truth echo.
Dec 31, 2020
Dec 31, 2020 at 11:46 AM UTC
What gives out authenticity
Leaning towards unfiltered reality?
Tell me how can I see
That I and they say is the real me?
A being governed by time
A soul separated from the divine
Annointed keeper of the self
Posturing as the impression of depth.
Indifferent towards the apparent terminus
Compact strides with the daily onus
Drifting on interim spaces
Figuring out the rest of the ages.
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 12:51 PM UTC