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"evaporated" poems
Why Men Cry in the Bathroom For so many reasons. I will tell you the why. I think you know, Or perhaps, you think you know. Men are always O.K., Even when not. We expect the worse, Accept the worse, Nonetheless, We are forever unprepared. Wearily, we cry, In the bathroom, in private, Lest sighs slip by, We be unmasked, Early warring, strife signs warning. Copious, tho we weep Before the mirror confessor, It is relief untethered, Unbinding of the feet, An uncounting Of beaded rosaries, Of freshly fallen hail stones, Of night times terrors By dawn's early edition's light, and welcomed. But look for the mute tear, The eye-cornered drop, *** tat, that never drops, But never ceases formation and Reforming, over and over again, In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution, *The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing, And I see you peeping, wondering, What is beneath* Look for: the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit, thrift shop bought, extra worn, grieving lines neath the eyes, where the salt has evaporated, discolored the skin. worry lines, under and above, browed mapped, furrowed boundaries. the laugh line saga, where better days are stored, recalled, as well as recanted, publicly, privately. Why just men? I don't know, Perhaps, it is all I know. end.<nml> Jan 6, 2013
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Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 10:46 AM UTC
Do You Know Why Men Cry in the Bathroom? (2013, can u believe it)
only wanted to enjoy the same unusual things with like-minded people the concierge of dystopia fnording ******* messing around with the octopus cyberpunk nightmare with blue sky expect a deluge and then wonder what happened to it evaporated anxiety due for a downpour catacombs rented by the hour she typically cares about those who don't care about her abandoning me without consequence don't ever come back ungrateful swine of nowhere! loyalty exists only in a parallel universe where they locked themselves up and destroyed the key they feed the rich and ignore the poor in the end the strugglers will prevail and the ones who had it easy will suffer game shows that punish the ignorant rage that never ends scoring infinite points in basketball and still losing the game only wanted to enjoy the same unusual things with like-minded people
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Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
alienation
My heart is a snowflake in your palm Beautiful yet fading away With the trees whispering in my ear Winter doesn't last forever My heart is a snowflake in your palm Sinking into your skin The coldness a memory of pain Though soothing like the warm sun My heart is a snowflake in your palm Beautiful yet fading away Evaporated into the wind with a whisper Winter doesn't last forever
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Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 9:55 AM UTC
Snowflake
Never would I have thought What this piece of paper had brought Inked in its first days It uplifted us into a golden age but as its letters faded and disappeared the king and his madmen reappeared with his forged steel and crude command The paper was soon banned now the ink has evaporated and the paper has lost its grace our future is ill-fated tomorrow comes the stone age
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC
The Paper
Rain drops fall onto my skin and commit slow suicide. I didn’t know getting so close to me would start to **** you. Like rain you broke Into a trillion atoms as blood spilt onto my hands you started to blame me for causing you pain. I reacted the way I knew best, I had to say goodbye. I evaporated into thin air. Thing was it wasn’t so good, but it really was a farewell. You now fall onto someone else’s skin causing them joy, a piece of happiness that once smiled onto my lips now kisses another. It’s easy for climate to change, now all I feel against my teeth is the sunshine.
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Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
rain rain rain
I'm told its best to eat low on the food chain so if its okay i'll start at your feet and work my way up tenderly excited like a child climbing a great tree for the first time aspiring to your kind mouth but forgive me my love, alas my manners have left me and   i fear i'm stuck between your thighs your shimmering slit has me woozy oooh candy red lolly so very cherry jolly my favorite color since i was six years old you know and so wet like babies drool can we open this butter cup it all loving alizarin silk a gift for my tongue splashing pink little fluttering bull frog ready to turn into your prince the taste of epiphany my attention deficient disorder vanquished my learning disabilities evaporated why didn't they teach me to read like this i can taste the entire alphabet inside of you numbers come with colors now making sense suddenly i feel the alchemy of poetry and art high mathematics and astrophysics i hear the music of the spheres and every molecule of the earth giving birth to the spice of creation next you say, would i like to know the constellations of heaven yes please my lady i'm definitely going to kiss your ***
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May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 4:34 PM UTC
Spice of Creation
The trees juice swallowing Dread-locks opening the key to my heart Pulling Amber Agate to the end wishing the wagon was my good luck hand So helpful than my hallucination struggling wilderness mission Apple abandoned Mcintosh her computer The thirst compelled her So Gingerly lemon tea 4 -2 beer pockets Four letters not to like H-E-L-P____$$$ if you only knew abandoned hike Imagining stew of rabbits Four people Fast Wendy 4 meals for 4 Sahara desert burger The Amber ghost of two wrinkled catalyst Did time desert me 4:44? Paralyzed list No Star wars may the force be with Amberlized Quicksand lowered   water was drying   Her abandoned party type Diva evaporated lava Amber the corner of her lip all pruned couldn't sing Slenderman slumber nails and dirt Amber people are the strange wagon getting hurt 1- Hot it is (..) 2- Is it wrong to feel abandoned 3-Wrong being sold out to Uncle Sam What was? 4- Was she blinded all alone S-O-S 5- SOS surrender distressed wood belong? 6- Belong to be dumped near a wagon deadbeat song 7- Song didn't move lonely emptiness , please help 8- Help wanted not just any sign 9- Sign was stolen and Amber rose 10- Rose so ember plain and desert storm he gulped 11- Gulped left with one (.) 12- One far two stars bygones 13- Bygone the last line 13 I= phones Help______ deleted numbers Now don't disappear on me I was abandoned too many times The dirt and the sand stayed still No cell phone picture to install
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 7:03 AM UTC
Abandoned Hike Amber
You're only seventeen - the light seems to shine right through you, peach-furred skin dessicated drawn in upon itself - and old. Your moisture-dewed youth has evaporated. It’s been emptied ****** clean dried and drained. You reach out with snappable wrists Your brittle bones bulge and bow. Your ribs vibrate with every breath air thrills and ripples the whole chest cavity. Your hands and feet Minnie Mouse big too big for the fragile framed tiny dancer. Your hips have become pelvic bone butterflies that arch and flare out from your sunken abdomen concave and strangely hung with loose folds of skin. Your eyes like oases in the desert of you cartoon-cute big but sunken deep into your head as if drawing away from the sight of you. Just a few more Kilos and you’ll be gone. © M.L.Emmett
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
Anorexic Girl
sweater sweet "you taste it" sweet I feel it with you as I am enveloped in this sweater that smells feels tastes breathes like you comforting and warm, like you woven and fragile, like you itchy and scratchy, like you like you if I could wear this sweater forever I would to be held by the very fabric that has hugged your person that has hugged me that I long for that I think of as I remember that this is the first thing I put on after you felt me all of me, with you that this was the first thing you let me have, and take that this was what you trusted me with your Christmas sweater what I put on for reassurance that you want me and need me what I put on for safety when I feel like I'm losing it I'm falling now though in this sweater backwards into that ocean and I'm scared, sweater that as days pass he loses me that his image of me fades and drifts away that he forgets the sound of my voice that my touch on his body has evaporated sweater, I want to hold him as he does me this image in my mind of his smirk his lanky but grand stature his sturdy hands and brittle nails his smell of Old Spice his blonde bed head I want to hold it all and I want to hear it all, sweater how he used to light everything in his path on fire as a child how he owns a mug with his face on it as a little boy how he lost it all to one person, like me sweater I can feel myself falling I'm losing my balance I can't stand I'm trying to protect my heart because I'm afraid to let it go but a part of me fears I already have and it's lost in his arms bare and bleeding and yet here I am wearing his sweater alone and yearning.
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Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
Sweater
sweater sweet "you taste it" sweet I feel it with you as I am enveloped in this sweater that smells feels tastes breathes like you comforting and warm, like you woven and fragile, like you itchy and scratchy, like you like you if I could wear this sweater forever I would to be held by the very fabric that has hugged your person that has hugged me that I long for that I think of as I remember that this is the first thing I put on after you felt me all of me, with you that this was the first thing you let me have, and take that this was what you trusted me with your Christmas sweater what I put on for reassurance that you want me and need me what I put on for safety when I feel like I'm losing it I'm falling now though in this sweater backwards into that ocean and I'm scared, sweater that as days pass he loses me that his image of me fades and drifts away that he forgets the sound of my voice that my touch on his body has evaporated sweater, I want to hold him as he does me this image in my mind of his smirk his lanky but grand stature his sturdy hands and brittle nails his smell of Old Spice his blonde bed head I want to hold it all and I want to hear it all, sweater how he used to light everything in his path on fire as a child how he owns a mug with his face on it as a little boy how he lost it all to one person, like me sweater I can feel myself falling I'm losing my balance I can't stand I'm trying to protect my heart because I'm afraid to let it go but a part of me fears I already have and it's lost in his arms bare and bleeding and yet here I am wearing his sweater alone and yearning.
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58
Light cresting the horizon, she reveals herself to me. Her brilliant beauty shining, enlightening me is the Sun. Leaving me blind eyes for it's long since I've seen the light. As my sight returns, I see a smile upon her glowing face. Happiness and warmth shines through, but also sadness. Such a cavernous sorrow only matched by mine. She speaks to me of a wish to be with the Moon once more. Like when the land was warm and both did linger in the sky. A brisk winter wind now engulfs the Sun. Yet still she shines beautiful life, given to all that behold her. I have felt her kind light on me, and I have come to cherish the feel. Memories of my unending midnight that left me cold and bleak, evaporated; replaced with joy, for returned have the young embers of feelings. With the presence of the Sun I have been brought back to life. And I wish to covet her, like the day does the light. I whisper a wish, a pining desire to share that heavenly grace with the Sun. But I may only behold her poetic wonder with my eyes I fear. Far to deep is her flame, which I still yearn after. Trudging forth is a feeling of looming disaster, for her thirst is of the Moon's accompaniment alone. Who am I to stand between the Sun and Moon? Gods in the sky. For I do not reside above the clouds; I am but a mere observer far below. Enchanted by the mellow glide through the heavens that they shared. The Moon should feel her kind sunshine upon his face again. He knows little of the night that I have hid in for ages repeated, for he is not charged to linger in darkness for all eternity, like I. A reluctance I feel to accept the truth, but I may not escape it. Though, should my heart be tamed? Which is so full of longing. Ages have passed since my bones have felt this empowering warmth. I find my mind imagining, dreaming, wandering; into a place it's far too long since felt any comfort in. Only to be brought back to the present by the warmth of her smile, a glance from her beautiful piercing eyes, to hark of her divine laughter. Remembering that happiness is felt in the presence of a flower, yet to pluck it for ones self, would begin an end to its beauty. Whatever may be the desire of the Sun, I share for her too. For she has shown me life like I've forgotten was possible. A gift of the like that I could never return with all of my days. A lost soul in lingering affection of a star, to be looked upon as a fool. Though a fool for attempting, rather a fool for abstaining. So return to the dark I will, awaiting in hope for my day to come. The day that the Sun should like to illuminate me again, and fill my soul with warmth. Yet I am terrified that day will never arrive for me, for I've known not but this tragic desolation that has consumed my heart. Until I met the Sun.
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
Until I met the Sun
Light cresting the horizon, she reveals herself to me. Her brilliant beauty shining, enlightening me is the Sun. Leaving me blind eyes for it's long since I've seen the light. As my sight returns, I see a smile upon her glowing face. Happiness and warmth shines through, but also sadness. Such a cavernous sorrow only matched by mine. She speaks to me of a wish to be with the Moon once more. Like when the land was warm and both did linger in the sky. A brisk winter wind now engulfs the Sun. Yet still she shines beautiful life, given to all that behold her. I have felt her kind light on me, and I have come to cherish the feel. Memories of my unending midnight that left me cold and bleak, evaporated; replaced with joy, for returned have the young embers of feelings. With the presence of the Sun I have been brought back to life. And I wish to covet her, like the day does the light. I whisper a wish, a pining desire to share that heavenly grace with the Sun. But I may only behold her poetic wonder with my eyes I fear. Far to deep is her flame, which I still yearn after. Trudging forth is a feeling of looming disaster, for her thirst is of the Moon's accompaniment alone. Who am I to stand between the Sun and Moon? Gods in the sky. For I do not reside above the clouds; I am but a mere observer far below. Enchanted by the mellow glide through the heavens that they shared. The Moon should feel her kind sunshine upon his face again. He knows little of the night that I have hid in for ages repeated, for he is not charged to linger in darkness for all eternity, like I. A reluctance I feel to accept the truth, but I may not escape it. Though, should my heart be tamed? Which is so full of longing. Ages have passed since my bones have felt this empowering warmth. I find my mind imagining, dreaming, wandering; into a place it's far too long since felt any comfort in. Only to be brought back to the present by the warmth of her smile, a glance from her beautiful piercing eyes, to hark of her divine laughter. Remembering that happiness is felt in the presence of a flower, yet to pluck it for ones self, would begin an end to its beauty. Whatever may be the desire of the Sun, I share for her too. For she has shown me life like I've forgotten was possible. A gift of the like that I could never return with all of my days. A lost soul in lingering affection of a star, to be looked upon as a fool. Though a fool for attempting, rather a fool for abstaining. So return to the dark I will, awaiting in hope for my day to come. The day that the Sun should like to illuminate me again, and fill my soul with warmth. Yet I am terrified that day will never arrive for me, for I've known not but this tragic desolation that has consumed my heart. Until I met the Sun.
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45
Everything with us seems perfectly entwined, Like Lego locking together, It just fits like we should know but don't, Is this another life lesson I wonder, You are actually perfection on a plate, All my wishes confirmed for my eye's to feast, You listen, converse, laugh, speak sense, Your like my concious more innocent, When alone in my thoughts I know, I fell in love along the way, I'm evaporated by your honesty, Our souls melt into the Ether, Alien yet familiar fears dwell, A fool for love and lust, Heart brashly on sleeve, Afraid I'll chemically combust, I cant see your thoughts either, Are you just honeymooning this new behaviour, Don't misread that I'm wanting it fast, My heart prays to God It will last, All I need is something more concrete, I cant sweep this away just for encase, Every waking moment I long to embrace, In you my love knew we would meet, But for now we go with the flow, Fear you will bin me for another, All helplessly in love and lost, I'm almost certain my heart'll pay the cost, We lock just like Lego blessed from above, Humanoid Lego a gift of true love. © Susan Michelle Baker
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
Lego Love
I waited for you. I waited so long frost kissed the ground. Tear drops evaporated and fell back rhythmically to the earth. I waited so long I wrote 36 letters and never mailed a single one. I waited so long seasons became reasons to wrap hopes fragile neck in the noose you gave me when you left. But still I waited.
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 7:33 PM UTC
Waiting..
Unto Him I am glued my King of Prussia. oxytocin- dopamine dilated his pupils inside his blue green as I entered Him, eons ago, and never came out He left but returned to my abode for me or his Tequila. I wanted to fall down crying beg him to take me with him to his heaven Saving me from the hellish existence But pain was greater then tears to convince HIM. ~~ Into his song YESTERDAY I merged  and with one voice we often sing it from that time on and on. I became his song his moon and stars. Although our fame sleeps as beauty rested in a glass coffin; with one leap across the gap chaos that one butcher with medical ignorant lies opened up and three  of us got evaporated. With one song each in heart we bridged that chasm. In his art we thrive yet for long. To Him to his heart of gold I slowly walk to, his ancient bride. Into our holy temple of forever, straight to his heart and open arms United in one single thought. Our own Taj Majal to reign we did plan to build. Into mine eye pupils, grasping all of his substance in his light projecting all was received My intergalactic time traveler. Interchangeable we are. In me he finds more than wisdom he finds truth a true artist. Our true love bittersweet. Before Him I Joyfully crumble kneeling As he embraces my swollen teary eyes and merging me Into to his heart and arms I surrender grace, charm and complete trust. There! In confining solitude In the darkest of mine nights My brightest sunny days it's him I hear, love and seek. I understand, worship and adore him forever more He's my true love! Luna tell Him! That I love him the most. ~~~~~~ Mr. And Mrs Andrew And Karijinbba. All rights reserved
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Mar 17, 2022
Mar 17, 2022 at 4:10 PM UTC
Luna tell Him
Unto Him I am glued my King of Prussia. oxytocin- dopamine dilated his pupils inside his blue green as I entered Him, eons ago, and never came out He left but returned to my abode for me or his Tequila. I wanted to fall down crying beg him to take me with him to his heaven Saving me from the hellish existence But pain was greater then tears to convince HIM. ~~ Into his song YESTERDAY I merged  and with one voice we often sing it from that time on and on. I became his song his moon and stars. Although our fame sleeps as beauty rested in a glass coffin; with one leap across the gap chaos that one butcher with medical ignorant lies opened up and three  of us got evaporated. With one song each in heart we bridged that chasm. In his art we thrive yet for long. To Him to his heart of gold I slowly walk to, his ancient bride. Into our holy temple of forever, straight to his heart and open arms United in one single thought. Our own Taj Majal to reign we did plan to build. Into mine eye pupils, grasping all of his substance in his light projecting all was received My intergalactic time traveler. Interchangeable we are. In me he finds more than wisdom he finds truth a true artist. Our true love bittersweet. Before Him I Joyfully crumble kneeling As he embraces my swollen teary eyes and merging me Into to his heart and arms I surrender grace, charm and complete trust. There! In confining solitude In the darkest of mine nights My brightest sunny days it's him I hear, love and seek. I understand, worship and adore him forever more He's my true love! Luna tell Him! That I love him the most. ~~~~~~ Mr. And Mrs Andrew And Karijinbba. All rights reserved
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60
Overthinking. I'm dwelling on things that need not more than five – no, two seconds. Dismissed. Spinning, looping Repeating. So unnecessarily lingering. My mind is a bubble, with a delicate membrane between my world and sanity, that houses liquid danger Evaporated and pressing outward against the walls I constructed to keep others out, and that instead poison me with the toxic gas of these Thoughts.
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Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Overthinking
A scuba diver, head first like a dolphin, goes in to the ocean, 100 feet down in semi-darkness finds this apparition something beautiful to behold in motion, really really big and mysterious it appears gliding gracefully spewing wonderment, inviting reverence from all kinds of marine life Clearly apologetic, for being out of place, though he has encroached, in to a world though not far from the sea surface, yet in a depth where human has no place all his scientific temper got  evaporated a simple villager now, gripped by wonder. All he could think of anyone fitting in to such magnificence was God Almighty,himself. "How do you do God?" he stutters, aware that in plankton filled darkness the mighty man is at the mercy of the behemoth, looming large above. The phenomenon in question, ***** whale"as we know him, smiles and burps happily "Fantastic" then he dives 6000 feet down, looking for a colossal squid, succulent to be sure the whole reason for him to play God at this depth for sea creatures that lose bearing in the haze of challenging depths.
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Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 5:59 AM UTC
Who plays the God deep under
I cried upon my hawaiian departure not tears of sorrow but tears of former and future joy my tears trailed down my cheek like the Paheehee stream before landing upon the ground like a soft hawaiian rain in spring when my tears evaporated they formed a long flat cloud in the shape of surfboard voyaging westward bound. the cloud upon reaching the sea, shape-shifted into a large volcano, vengful and menacing with the torential downpour a sign of the volcanoe's erupting The storm began to thicken The volcano spinning around it's core like that of a fire dancers stick, scattering the tears evermore when the storm cleared eight tears washed upon each hawaiian shore wiating for me to surf upon my tears
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Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 2:43 AM UTC
Surf upon my tears
Crescendo at the pitch , the touch of the octave, the slide of my ribcage. Put me on the overdrive the feel of the rhythm, beautiful eyes in glimmer. I can't believe we are back, on the track and split laps, the untimed togetherness. At the start of the race, where heat and mist rose, steams in the gush of the **** Poised passion rose to the skies, wetness and action felt so right, the torrential evaporated rain. My future lies in your bed, on the blue walls with graffiti, away in a continent afar. Inside the cocoon of a time-space, irrigated by sprinkles of growth, where we hum through civilisation.
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May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 6:07 PM UTC
My Future Lies in your Bed
The moth with newspaper wings sat under the arrow lungs of the eyeless blood dripped falcon, more whole than the super-glued roman sculpture. Next door a 50’s con held up church with a roulette table in the kitchen, and boarded up the massage parlor downstairs. The eye of the man was a centrifuge of ducks, mallard and hen, spiraling outward into evaporated roach-ground asphalt. Next door, slits in the picket fence displayed perfectly formed **** & broach, empty shoes made of feet below, blending fields. The marble foundation formed from twine lollipops and fuzzy candy tabs, ice-etched to the frequency of splintered seashell angels. Next door through the forest of knives a spaceship bearing gargoyles peaked bodies through collages of faces in technicolor sepia mitosis. The heiress molted into tiled pieces, her own dog and sunhat caught in blizzard cuneiform, kaliedescoping again to fractalled inchworms cemented in motion.
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Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 9:55 AM UTC
Dither Collective
I do not greet the water for I never really left its embrace Although it evaporated from my skin it never dried from my heart A familiar chill rests upon me as my body falls below the surface The water rushes into my lunges like an avalanche of bliss It fills up every corner of me anchoring my soul deeper With the waves crashing over me and the waters arms around me My last breath slips to the surface as I slip into serenity...into my home
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Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
Drowning Bliss
or "let's order takeout," or "small ineptitudes in the kitchen" 1. butter lop it liberally silver clinging scrape it pan side sputters and hissing smoky? turn the heat down crimsoning elemental browning the butter 2. sizzling whites diaphanous stiffly whitened bubbles surface spatula stroking poly— tetrafluoroethylene roll the egg yolk shattering yellow 3. **** the water nothing— evaporated gasping blue effluvium windows fanblades blackened *** the bite of a char upon it tea for tomorrow
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Sappho the Housewife
Every thanksgiving, My family gets smaller. Gone to college. Gone traveling. Gone to another woman. Gone to Florida. Gone to prison. Gone to see the lord. Funerals are how I visit the lord. God is drawn to eulogies. He’s there, a fixture, almost a cliche, like a great aunt with a black veil weeping into a floral handkerchief. Today, at this funeral, a thin layer of snow and ice has frozen the ground. Black dress shoes press ridged footprints into the snow. Every funeral I’ve ever been to has been cold. Dress clothes and peacoats aren’t thick enough to keep me warm during a funeral. I keep my hands in my pockets and hunch forward, watching my breath hit the winter wind. The winter wind is an evaporated sadness, like god. During thanksgiving, the gravy boat on the counter let off hot, thin steam. While pouring it thick on my potatoes, A shadow in the corner of the room caught my eye. The days after a funeral are filled with a confused, hopeful mysticism. Every moving shadow, every unexplained noise is a visitation. So I ****** my head towards the corner of the room. Nothing. Glancing back at the table, I look at his empty seat, reminded how much I’m him. I’m quiet, like he was. I laugh like he laughed. My teeth are as bad as his were. I drink like he did when he was my age, days, nights at a time, stumbling home from dark pubs, watching, with blurred vision, my whisky breath hit the winter wind, and evaporate, almost as fast as God. After the turkey and the pie and the coffee, I go down to the basement and I pour myself a stiff *** and coke. I drink, in silence, to the gone.
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
Thanksgiving
Every thanksgiving, My family gets smaller. Gone to college. Gone traveling. Gone to another woman. Gone to Florida. Gone to prison. Gone to see the lord. Funerals are how I visit the lord. God is drawn to eulogies. He’s there, a fixture, almost a cliche, like a great aunt with a black veil weeping into a floral handkerchief. Today, at this funeral, a thin layer of snow and ice has frozen the ground. Black dress shoes press ridged footprints into the snow. Every funeral I’ve ever been to has been cold. Dress clothes and peacoats aren’t thick enough to keep me warm during a funeral. I keep my hands in my pockets and hunch forward, watching my breath hit the winter wind. The winter wind is an evaporated sadness, like god. During thanksgiving, the gravy boat on the counter let off hot, thin steam. While pouring it thick on my potatoes, A shadow in the corner of the room caught my eye. The days after a funeral are filled with a confused, hopeful mysticism. Every moving shadow, every unexplained noise is a visitation. So I ****** my head towards the corner of the room. Nothing. Glancing back at the table, I look at his empty seat, reminded how much I’m him. I’m quiet, like he was. I laugh like he laughed. My teeth are as bad as his were. I drink like he did when he was my age, days, nights at a time, stumbling home from dark pubs, watching, with blurred vision, my whisky breath hit the winter wind, and evaporate, almost as fast as God. After the turkey and the pie and the coffee, I go down to the basement and I pour myself a stiff *** and coke. I drink, in silence, to the gone.
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53
I have seen the bliss before the morning's dawn . I have taken kiss from a woman as she slept like a new born fawn . I have seen the sun and moon set together in a western sky . I have seen all the reasons now as we let our loving die . I have seen the fog at times when there was nothing one could see . I have seen eternity from the mountains all the way down to the sea . I have seen love's kind embrace and felt it's breath upon my skin . But I don't even dare to dream there will be another like you again . Oh , I have seen paradise through The yellow of the glass . Tasted it upon my tongue And it was so very nice . I have smelled the rose's fumes And it permanates the air For evermore I assumed But now face cold realities stare I have seen the petals fall one by one by one I have seen the fingers slip away until there were none . I have this empty feeling at the bottom of my pit God it is so unwilling I think I'm feeling sick Our love has evaporated After summer's rain   Leaving steaming memories Heat and searing pain But I have not seen Nor think I ever will See a love again like this Forever that's so real
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
I Have Seen
Journeys rendered dateless, Unending, Wayward and extending out, Round the compass points -- Dizzying aspiration to cease this race, To slow my sprinting soul, This pace splintering, in exhaustion. Expiring breath of hope or of home Evaporated in a distance Vanishing and Disconnected. Drifting On trackless tides, across Labyrinthine depths, Within the vast heart Of the world I cannot run from. Yet, I moved to and between The center or its peripherals, in Singular or collectives, Seeking pattern and Drawing connectives –- Brushing by and Bustling among People Entranced In their own Objectives. I watched their movements And their exchanges, I heard their rituals and Invocations. In all these transitions, They have no inkling That their seemingly trite Lives merely manifest The epic motifs of the heavens! Our imaginations mirror The vitality of the gods! We are as immortal as they! Our simple, sensual stories Are also enduring legends Unfolding, As our pages turn, Our flags are unfurling! Just as our fellow Olympians of old Engaged in a marathon of Endeavor to heights Unimagined! From those mystic days Since Orpheus’ ardent lyre Sang notes Of Nature’s divinity, Her Eternal sweetness. We need only sense that It is in Nature’s essence We are sharing. With her, we are joined in An undying marriage, A unified pairing – Our human heritage, Our dignified bearing. We share in that song,   We share in that sweetness, We share in that race, We share in Her immanence. This journey is our own. It goes on, unending!
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Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
Distance Unending
Journeys rendered dateless, Unending, Wayward and extending out, Round the compass points -- Dizzying aspiration to cease this race, To slow my sprinting soul, This pace splintering, in exhaustion. Expiring breath of hope or of home Evaporated in a distance Vanishing and Disconnected. Drifting On trackless tides, across Labyrinthine depths, Within the vast heart Of the world I cannot run from. Yet, I moved to and between The center or its peripherals, in Singular or collectives, Seeking pattern and Drawing connectives –- Brushing by and Bustling among People Entranced In their own Objectives. I watched their movements And their exchanges, I heard their rituals and Invocations. In all these transitions, They have no inkling That their seemingly trite Lives merely manifest The epic motifs of the heavens! Our imaginations mirror The vitality of the gods! We are as immortal as they! Our simple, sensual stories Are also enduring legends Unfolding, As our pages turn, Our flags are unfurling! Just as our fellow Olympians of old Engaged in a marathon of Endeavor to heights Unimagined! From those mystic days Since Orpheus’ ardent lyre Sang notes Of Nature’s divinity, Her Eternal sweetness. We need only sense that It is in Nature’s essence We are sharing. With her, we are joined in An undying marriage, A unified pairing – Our human heritage, Our dignified bearing. We share in that song,   We share in that sweetness, We share in that race, We share in Her immanence. This journey is our own. It goes on, unending!
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