"exigent" poems
And so resounds the echo...
Sewn against your shadow,
handstitched destiny edges,
unraveled in the fire,
pulses rage
in heart-paced whispers,
collision of midnight panther
pelts, bleed into powder silk,
ravage the gentle merge,
your touch upon my awakening
sway me softly in your gaze
taste me with eyes that pierce
my soul from wingtips of butterflies
cast from the fire of your existence.
Unfold the unspoken words
dripping in the creases of this
throbbing...needing...wanting
heartbeat-slip-stitch,
suture seal the ache
of gossamer flesh
pressed against raven,
twin glances,
the bookmark,
fingertips
tracing the eyeprints
of your words upon me.
...so resounds the echo...
As echo wrecks the body
in a fever of words, purged
from the ****** night,
that devours_and devours_your lips,
my hands' gentle cradle, spread
its roots dark these russet
threads the gold, swept
wetly over hands, like nerves,
quickening and so laden
with tremors, these words echo echo
Slip knot tongues intertwine,
tangled tasting breathes, exhaled
in slow moans surging, purging
that drink_and crave_and need
m o r e
beneath hands that unleash
the fervor, lips pressed through
the flames, as gossamer falls
upon panther silk,
an exigent trespass,
beyond the touch
beyond the kiss,
educe the quake and the quiver
within this rapture.
...so resounds the echo echo...
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 5:42 PM UTC
I do not mourn long Mondays--
Wednesday is gone before I
blink back an astonished Tuesday, and
at twenty-four already
I see my mothers hands sliding
across the page
That same scrawl following tip
of the exigent pen
Nervous mind idly stroking
bitter torments
That which is aggravated swells
inflamed. Like a
canker sore deep in
the inner cheek
The tongue rolling and probing,
absorbed by each sour pain
Carefully plotting little volcanoes across
the slick terrain
They burst like purple pomegranates
pounding spattered cement
on mild fall evenings
So do people sometimes
Through tectonics of the brain
Those which could be minor psychological
blemishes roar to life. Shifting
vast emotional plates
behind a cool gaze
People hurl carelessness at on another
like schoolyard boys
chucking helpless frogs at
jagged stone walls
Ignorant of life's high price
And though horrified-- I
Can not look away.
Eyes bulging, blown out anuses spewing
pale intestines slick with blood-- I
can not look away.
Each giddy chimp, feces
Proudly flung-- I
do not look away.
My heart swollen hungering for
that emptiness called humanity
Mostly pretense, mostly solitude, mostly cruelty,
All personal gain!
Meanwhile, brothers and sisters,
have you considered the fate
of your everlasting soul?
I didn't think so
Glassy eyes stare
beseeching from bathroom mirrors
Tear-stained cheeks belie
a quizzical half-smile
I will meet that insecure gaze
promising to seek my own perfect
imperfection
No longer guilt ridden and ashamed
I will hold the reflected stare aloft
with my own true eyes
and I swear-- I
will not look away
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
Walked to the lake nobody around
Watery clear mirrored no sound
Fish made their move taken by surprise
Divine Love entered the clearing in disguise
Appeared from nowhere crossed time bridged space
How did Love know where to find this place
Knew from the start Love wanted her heart
To make her stay from far away
Destined to meet had no idea why
Kind hopeful passionate romantic guy
Foliage reflection silent forest clime
A window a portal a wormhole in time
Peeked through the veil past the Divide
Clandestine link to the other side
A kiss a chain two souls linked together
A golden moment personified forever
To a river where the crowds gather
Followed invited welcomed her there
Visualized materialized the crack sublime
The crowd parted for her proof paradigm
Her mission veiled her purpose oblivious
Death lurked undetectable ubiquitous
Invisible Denizen of Fear
Behind in front at her side always near
Waited for a mistake hoped for a lie
A justified excuse to take her life
Stalked her everywhere dragged her around
Wondered when to take her down under
The ledge behind the edge set up high
Nowhere to hide Death always close by
Steeled herself gathered her strength
Lethal Weapon disarmed; Exigent Innocent
Luminous Numinis shielded on all sides
Taken to dark regions unknown unseen by eyes
Brainwashed cornered Captive memory gone
Stood her ground as Death stared her down
Lured to the river hard cold fast water slid past
“How Can I .... You, I Love You”, Death asked
Brutalized left for dead her sentence repealed
Death needed permission the plan revealed
Passed back through the portal unscratched
Delivered home safe to Divine Love at last
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
*Heavy Rain,
Under the umbrella in vain,
Exigent and ostentatious,
An egotistic hostility,
Filling the purge atmosphere,
Rain drops ebbing,
Conceiving an enchanted assault.
Fenced with free fall,
Falling into zero,
A faith so sick,
Ready to twitch.
Sanctified reminiscence of a remorseful purge,
Hateful conscience of a disgusted now.
Don’t know how,
A will to amend,
A limitless descent,
Wandering in extent,
Chaos down the ascent.
Extremity too proximal,
Grey beyond despair,
A reverence so brisk,
I’m frittered and devoid of retention.*
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 2:55 AM UTC
La sensation s'apparente à une simple présence
Incongrue et abstraite, tant sa distance
De ces souvenirs qui exigent le poids des vivants
Comme promesse qu'ensemble nous traverserons le temps
Et tend à cette conviction presque vide de sens
Que les acteurs éternels de la tendre enfance
Puissent ainsi, pas à pas, suivre nos traces dans l'ombre
Pour que ce peuple d'éther ne s'ajourne que dans la tombe
Et que tombe cette folle histoire insensée, peu à peu
Que le temps calcinera de son souffle de feu
Ranimant en nous la flamme de ces instants d'ivresse
Pour que reste derrière nous ces souvenirs délestés
Et mieux vaut de son gré engendrer la cadence
Que de subir dans la l'angoisse les désirs de délivrance
Délaissant patiemment toute envie de se réjouir
Pour que s'endorme dans la cendre ces trop lourds souvenirs
Et quand viendra finalement la sensation de dissonance,
Que la lourdeur de l'homme aspirant la transcendance
S'exténue et s'allège dans l'accord des déceptions
Pour qu'enfin vive souverain ce pays d'ombres et d'illusions.
Et que sombre dérisoirement chaque pensée, peu à peu,
Que le temps effacera d'un seul geste d'adieux
Renvoyant au néant l'âme de ces habitants célestes
Pour que ne gise sur la toile qu'une confuse fresque.
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 5:50 PM UTC
proscribed extra-curious carnality be gone, begin, become the
exigent immersion of a prescribed insertion, deep genetics
within this drowning pool, drooled and tooled. now cruel
jewel, for this dowsing fool, offer up a different inheritance,
draw wider tracks of innate capture, let mortal culpability
sail white whaled, high tailed, to a communal land of
neutral precept not constrained by dictate neuter. one click,
**** temptation, flavoured Russian, *** Asian. first though
herbal, fruitful, extension. such friendship investment, one
clit-k sensation, new phone, who phone, ***** moan,
iFone©, fear & gear. solutions are here, hear? with 1 or
more I full, sim-pull, sinful maybe? snout deep, cracked
badger’s honey kink, snake in ‘n’ baking ‘n’ shaken sac,
quick, whip crack a flay, today? the way you wear those
ankles so well that far back, a la mode, cherry high pie
and cream, no sweet reluctance of bristling itch, searching
eye ******* incontinent twitch from mondo trespassed
hush-pushed niche.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 9:00 AM UTC
Paper hearts
Coated in sugar
Sweet simple art
Lightly tread on edges thin
Living through warm smiles and dormant memories
Forever and ago we will reach fin
Side by side
Lightly caress to break my stationary casing
Barely close enough to confide
Hoping everything
Leaves a beat
An exigent effort to remember
Living by friable motions
Break with rain
Torn apart
You can't wear me down
I'm sustained by something paper thin
Stopping my heart with a touch at a time
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 5:19 AM UTC
I want to tell him that I
love everything from a distance
but can cross oceans in seconds
that the people before him sopped
through my fingers like wet sand,
were ever flat and disarranged, empty
men with waterless words and exigent
appetites for my body--(that this is where
i learned the only way to please a man was
to give him myself)
I'm still undoing the knots, unraveling the little girls
coiled in lies, and taking mallets to the plaster molds
I built up around myself, mannequins for different men
and if there is anything I am confused
about it is him, his I-could-nevers, his frightening
absolutes, the ways in which he vows he can never change
*you think you want me but at the back of your mind you want
something else*
I don't want you--not like that. Not as if
your worth was based on how quick you jump into the fray for my sake. How many times you make me smile or say your name--however
you are soaked in rosemary and oil, folded up out of my notebook
into a thousand paper cranes--no, not even like that.
How do I tell you that I see your soul? Your threadbare spirits peeking out and the willowy fibers unraveled in your wake, that you are more than your mothers many marriages, more than the women you did not
want to have-- and deserving of a lasting love that transcends your mistakes and leaves your mirrors remarkably clean, did you know you can be clean?
How do I tell you that the broken do not fix the broken, how I cannot share the blueprint for healing but the burden if he asks--are we in the same book? The same chapter? I once heard that two people must grow in a similar direction at the same pace--are we on the same boat? The same road? On the torrent seas, will you hold your own?
I realize I cannot come at you with such brazen artillery, that the paths I choose have no gates and are often unmarked, not even the grass gives way, nor the trees and twigs their secrets--and the journey is wholly faith, an expedition I have not fully taken but is presently on its way. When I tell you what falls first and where my priorities settle, I speak down the pike of the ways I hope to be and the woman that waits in whole.
So when he tells me I am confusing for the hundredth time and I sink somewhere off the Atlantic with the weight of my own thoughts, I am quiet. His words are ever resounding but do not fill me up--just the glimmering hope that we will somehow
meet
in the
Middle
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 7:26 PM UTC
let startle inlight, if not so lifted
in peregrination, a lavish seeing.
two eyes are worlds in
tippling axis.
taking deaths, a wreath would a candle,
a prayer would a body thumbed down
to wisdom our backbones break.
to see death like a rush of flowers.
great the sight of such illumination.
swiftly going to god's dark behemoth,
metaphysics of bone clenched—
darkling like obsidian
a complexing fault of road
as the same vein of Earth aspirates
the wind — whose exigent fire
cleaned her bones back to
pulchritude: her face a diamond
in the rough — never to speak
yet to clamber with summarization,
realness and revelations of roses.
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 10:06 PM UTC
It feels like I'm repeating the pattern
Ambition vaster then Saturn
My heart refuses to be cold like Vattern
People always have their back turned
It's nothing new to me
The improvements have been few to me
Don't try and start a feud with me
I get why they took a knee
Because hate is on a killing spree
It's been awhile since I drank a pouch of Capri
I'm not trying to be a fusee
Only when it is done the correct way
I could write this all day
But not feel like I'm exigent
It just continues and effects like vesicant
I hope that there's a mouthwash that reduces this bad taste
Because I hope these aren't a waste
I aspire to not be copy and paste
I still got a ton of haste
I'm opened up, spaced
I hope this doesn't debase
My prior work before this
I'm just reiterating how I feel
Turning it into a spiel
Living in poetry is ideal
So I hope these words congeal
And hold the same appeal
To the newer readers
You're not the bottomfeeders
You are the possible leaders
To this stormy and confused campaign
Help end the blain
That's caused me mental pain
I just want to be your Thomas Paine
But I can't unless you show me your light
So we can sleep better every night
To end stress, people get high as a kite
I know that isn't right
We can't ignore the problem
We have to create a way to stop them
And that's been the desperate attempt I've had
That's why I get so glad
When I achieve it
You are not something I ever want to aggrieve.
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 9:52 PM UTC
farewell and farewell—
so this persists, the night
unraveling
its exigent face
as delicate as daybreak.
each window shunned, each door
left open for the wind of your red feet
to enter a plenitude of vagabonds,
goodbye and goodbye
and nothing has ever changed.
to remove yourself from me
and retain, a dagger:
to seize with your hands, my blood
and to bathe your body, with
new darkness.
to move away from me
resounds a bell, a prayer's end,
the birds are in their clandestine,
the felines are in their rendezvous
and your body assumes
liquid measure, surpassing matter.
let us not converse grief when it is
fancy to speak of embrace — you
are a rusting machinery left in the
ferruginous dark.
so we have never returned
and i no longer grieve you:
you are as untenable as a fixture or
a sepulcher.
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 9:09 AM UTC
do you walk upon
water the exigent wet
do fishes know swim
Jan 17, 2022
Jan 17, 2022 at 5:42 PM UTC
It will get dark soon.
The white, yellow, and pink
houses will turn grey,
then black. The cacophony
of car horns will turn into
the chorus of locusts.
Summer's night will lay
a sheet of tranquility over
a city harassed by exigent
matters that matter not.
Soporific silhouettes will
soften the cityscape,
allowing us to escape
the frazzle of the hot day,
exchanging the frenetic
for the peaceful, the welter
for a sense of the well being.
The susurrus of the evening
breeze blows the exhaust
of our polluted lives into
a distant day. Children play
in yards back and front and
laughter wafts through
neighborhoods like the sweet
smell of barbeque, not the
fetid odor of finance and
foreclosures. There is a
sense of closure to this day.
As the sun sets, our eyelids
close, and we pray for the
soft rain of forgiveness.
Copyright 2019 Tod Howard Hawks
Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 11:17 PM UTC
My brain: an incessant essay with unstructured paragraphing and excess analogies, yet something in the syntax so mollifying.
The ink that I have wasted on my past is sometimes the only form of tangible clarity in the present.
Unfortunately, my typewriter often stutters on paraphrases and plagiarism, though my pernicious blessing of overactive neurons always seems elude such exigent situations.
I fall in love with punctuation that is of utmost relevance and universality, but I'm tumbling over my own pleonasm.
The ramifications of my inconsistency is is that I tend to bombard ears with clauses, but at night I dream of shouting without a single sound escaping my mouth.
Also, I hate anglicisms, although I know that the reality is inevitable.
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 10:19 AM UTC
An uprooted tree lies ebbing in the street.
The one who pledged everyone with a refuge
is herself in exigent need.
People come, see the fallen one.
Not a soul seems to be concerned.
Zero, zilch, nada, none.
They don't remember
those cloistered, sizzling infernos of June
those solitary, shivering nights of witchy new moons
and those
sodden, sultry volleys of pouring monsoons
when they, like sprayed bedbugs, ran helter-skelter
with the beast of disarray at their sorry heels -
snarling callously at all their jet-set culture,
structure and order
and
when all and sundry went slapdash
…haphazard
that stalwart of timber
gave them reassuring shelter.
…no fine print, no strings…
❉
Today, when in the aftermath of storm and rain
her generous framework lays mortally drained
there is no one who would even stop
to look for a while
let alone bestow a precious drop
of life.
❉
In this progressive society –
dynamic, forward-looking, revolutionary –
each enterprising personality
is interred beneath umpteen layers of conceit
and on the assay of fulfilment
estimates the value of the being.
Dec 23, 2019
Dec 23, 2019 at 8:07 PM UTC
do you walk upon
water the exigent wet
do fishes know swim
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 8:20 PM UTC
When every moment is
Struggling with every
Fiber to inspire, expire
Breath, feeling is a
Dream deferred,
Unrealizable, they say.
Yet, to feel builds emotions,
Power innate, the thread
Interweaving the fabric of life.
Though, pro-science projects
Thought is power, sensing,
Just informing, to be processed
By our computer, brain, for
Exigent programming.
Yet, conscience intuits that
Thoughts are emoting, voiced.
...That fear is naught, but,
Shadows of past's un-integrated
Experiences, cast over our
Presence and future. While both,
Integral to realizing insight,
Growth, balance and movement,
Are necessary to humanity.
"La Machine", uses them to rote
Us into un-being an efficacious part
And parcel of it, an automaton.
More, better mechanistic survival,
The reason for human being,
In societies' eye. Who dares to
Disagree, all in for a penny, in
For a pound, mostly, decay bound.
Sides, delusions, clouding their eyes.
Though, feelings hibernating
Emerge with strength, through
Discipline, which Castaneda relates
As, "the art of feeling awe", they
Can be concentrated. Focusing,
Realizing reality on wing,
Imbued co-creation in flight.
As well, what of our soma's foci of
Attention, solutioning all life,
Through myriad interrelations?
What of the breadth of our
Perceptions, the depth of every-
Ones earthen interconnections?
...Of the intimacy, hearts fathoms,
Touch's immediacy, aural artistry?
Mammon says, "what of it", being
Doesn't make money, take control,
Projections do. "We" say, they're
Le raison d'etre, potentia evolving,
Humane being, alival. I would be
Just for a day, as a mayfly, if I were
More me, rather, than as long as
An eagle flies, selling out, killing.
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
"Ardor yet torment are so abutting in tactility of amass,
Yet the latter is so very arduous,
Love can be like the flower that will not bloom,
Yet carries the love you had to others hidden in the dark,
We must thank the love we had may shed the aroma,
May the love once had may survive dimly within our souls,
The incandescent that rises from ground to your cilium,
Your alluring artistry protoplasm your prose your aroma,
That of a love that once cared yet left your palate in torment,
When your love and beauty gave exigent to my heart and soul,
As does the sea give oxygen to its living things to live,
Of my heart to my noumenon maybe I can live without you,
One day a new love I shall affix a diadem in my lonesome dynasty,
What sorrow did I not express to you was my sorrow immersed,
From crest to surge I still canticle your name as I wonder,
You were the long stem floret that comminuted my soul,"
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 5:37 PM UTC