"faintness" poems
The sounding alarm starts the frenzy
I hurry myself to shower and dress
Slowing just for a moment
To strategically place fragrant surprises
For later explorations.
Accelerating with all urgency
I weave through the blockade of traffic
Risking it all to preserve
Each second, each minute, every moment of time
For my waiting infatuation
Flushes of excitement consume me
As I near my destination
I am overwhelmed with pulsating urges
As I search for a way to impress you
Show advanced appreciation
Welcomed with a sensual eagerness
Each of us knowing and wanting
I ask "Can I play you a tune?"
A Love song plays to a faintness
As you bring me to satisfaction
Then,
Ascending to kiss me softly
You wish me a good day at work.
Wiping excess from your chin
You smile and say "See you tomorrow."
© Tina Thompson
Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 2:46 PM UTC
Lazily, a boy with silvery hairs muttering requiem aeternam
lifts his neck at the piercing radiance skimming off the eyeglasses rim,
and there looms the glory, the spotless sea of blue,
varnishes of spring gloss fuming out of the French coronation robe.
The still-brisk branches hung bent at the weight of vivacity,
sight of maidens whose eyes and grace bath in the full warmth of light,
the kisses on the face of the river by the shower of half-bloomed petals,
just as the stillborn thrills of the beating heart to the splintered fingers of Moirae.
The time of adieu,
the season of life.
The mourning procession amidst the lustily caressing May breeze.
-Primavera, thou name be the sweet irony of the dying flowers
The evening wades in, and the coy face of the mountain blushes;
Thence strides away the man whose gaze speaks of premature nostalgia
Here the wind whispers the rosy delirium from the sakura tree at the far side,
the faintness lushly hazed away by the cloudy veil of bittersweet grey.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 7:13 AM UTC
Rules disintegrate between midnight and when dusk hits horizon
Ask someone, anyone, to run away with you. I dare you. See if they’ll say no
Shrouded with the gentle miasma of sleep just out of reach, a half-step towards the unknown doesn’t seem so risky
Only when the sky is swathed in dull orange does logic start to kick in, 70 miles from home with nothing but a broken compass and a fond companion
Spit bitter regrets at a nameless former lover
The one who scoured every inch of your body and eagerly delved in every crevice of your fragile heart before you even knew the true definition of naiveté
Naiveté: (noun) the scared, nostalgic hands that innocently cling to a forgotten yesterday while prodding us towards the blind plunge of tomorrow
Declare love to that unrequited forbidden fruit
Sleepy vulnerability cracks away at the protective walls we build
Besides, what could the ramifications possibly be when come morning, faintness of memory won’t be able to distinguish fantasy from reality?
So seize the opportunity; be horribly candid and nakedly honest
Feel the transience of the night and relish the fleeting moments that rest between your fingertips.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 6:36 PM UTC
I gave blood today; I wanted to be a Good Samaritan, help those in need. My blood, after all, is healthy, pure. The thing is though, is that as I watched my life slowly ebb into the pint-sized plastic bag of rescue, I was imagining how lovely it would be for all of it to flow out, into a bag, into the bath, into the universe. To be empty, weightless, cold. As the blood pulsed out of my veins and my arm became weaker, I wished for my eyes to close and for my thoughts to slow down, for the discombobulate realm I call my life to slowly disappear or at least evolve into a breathtaking pasture of wispy freedom. Once my arm was emptied and the possible end was stopped, they told me - drink up, drink up, eat up, eat up - replenish the sugar and tiny hemoglobin cells that I so gracefully supplied. I took hold of the juice, and I took hold of the cookie, but once out of sight, I tossed them to the side. I wanted the feeling of faintness, dizziness, the insecurity of being caught in between two worlds. And as I sit here now with a muted mind and a slight headache, I am slightly pleased.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
Sky tinged blue and pink, clouds drifting high
Like a cheery pre-school
Walking under the nine o’clock cotton candy sky
I journey to the pool
So safe in the water’s arms
Techno music playing like the sound of an alarm
Water caresses my feet like silk
Tonight the dolphin is of my ilk
Humans so fish-like when they swim
Power and finesse, bodies smooth and slim
Quick graceful flips as they turn around for another lap
I long for the slippery speed of the swimming caps
I would be so naked on land
My fat thighs like a black brand
But in the water I am beautiful
Even the most vigorous stroke strangely blissful
Ten o’clock as the empty complex prepares to sleep for the night
Ten o’clock and fast food chains, cars, street lamps, cell phones provide the light
I have much longer to go
Before I rest my head upon the pillow
Inhaling the sweet smell of chlorine
As I pass by the pool like a patient full of codeine
Body so empty, purged of excess weight
Mind wondering whether it can still stay up late
Body so limp and useless after swimming
Eyes blurring, hair wet and ears ringing
The sky is dark blue like water twenty feet below the ocean surface
Blue half-obscured by black clouds and for once I am not nervous
Tonight life is a dream
I am covered with a shield, a stream
Of water, faintness and fatigue
Tonight I am infallible, full of intrigue
Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 2:16 AM UTC
Loneliness seeps into my skin and surges through my veins,
Seizing my heart with cold, gnarled claws.
One would think that by now i would be accustomed
To the faintness of my beating heart, with all it’s aching, broken shards.
It is fragile, emitting spurts of pain with each shallow intake of breath.
I have grown weary of this masquerade, this counterfeit smile.
Silently I scream, desperately hoping
That somewhere, in this vast, incomprehensible world,
There is a voice to answer mine.
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 10:01 AM UTC
worry worry worry
worry worry worry worry worry fear
worry worry worry worry worry tension worry
worry worry worry isolation worry worry
worry worry worry worry worry worry
trembling worry worry worry worry belittling
worry worry worry vulnerability worry worry
worry worry worry pain worry worry worry
worry worry faintness worry worry worry
worry worry worry worry worry worry worry
worry worry numbness worry worry worry
worry worry worry worry worry worry worry
anxiety worry worry worry worry
worry worry worry worry worry worry worry
Closure
Relief.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 1:47 PM UTC
The words meaningless
Appeasing this feeling
Grieving from my lips
And with small sips
To just downing all of it
I submit
To the emptiness
I have writ
And if i ever again kiss
The faintness of her lips
I will clumsily trip
Encompassed
In the grip
Of the happiness
That slipped
Into the heart of this *****
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 10:18 PM UTC
Serenity what is it to you? For me, it knows there is nothing that can take my god given inheritance and make my life a bad time. I find serenity in small things and the quietness between sounds. How to use that which is given in a positive way every day , just pull out that hidden talent the one you so painstakingly try to hide so no one will steal it from you. Let it shine into the day let others be blessed by your talents. Give them grace and mercy and trust as the father gives you, find the lining in the cloud to support you in times of faintness. There is love in serving others and healing quietly those in pain this has been a true station for me to give and heal that in myself as well as others. Just fly in the healing of the serenity of your being. Give from the love inside given to you from the father as all is well and feels beautiful………
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 4:28 AM UTC
A ring around the sun
An omen for the dumb
A reminder of the sum
To the faintness of our hum
There is a city in the water
Where the color whirls
She is mocking what we taught her
The demur of a world
There is a fire in the sky
Just a passer by
And if you hide your eyes
You will be surprised
There is thunder in the dirt
Sliding lands on molten rock
And if you listen to it work
You can hear it talk
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 10:07 PM UTC
eaked through a piece of cloth.
‘the mouth’
you were meant be;
calmed
or else led-
to be calmed
once more
and allowed through the gate quietly;
so says the day
that reaches across day
churning the streets
until silenced
by life;
and nursed back to fury
by the peace of words
from human mouth
without the faintness of sense
they are different to yours;
no matter which world
you see hanging around
the mouth of furness
and steps
inside you
welcome you
deeply
there’s no fixing our pulse
there’s only fixing
our expressions
of it, that love our play,
the hedge cutters know it best,
the gambits that pull our actions from sleep
and clip a square heart into bush
and the ministers and bed louse
know it best
and nothing knows it best;
whilst here
as we do
something as small
as dancing through
and from within time
of womb bone and jaw
and knowing your gleaming
mate
is equal,
to your fear
of absolute passion
knows you best.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 6:23 PM UTC
Slying insidely,
elongating, and unraveling,
shes spiraling
upon me,
as her withering lips, succumb,
in
the stretching feathery faintness
in breaths, of disbelief.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 1:56 AM UTC
Breathing, inhaling
The moments jumbled like pieces of scrap.
A crisp summer's night growing into faintness... Electrify
Shivering in bliss, tempting in wander
Shocking veins with icy fire blending fear, and passion - in a single ...
Beat.
Aug 23, 2016
Aug 23, 2016 at 7:42 PM UTC
oh theres this colour in my dream
sunset red whispering by, like roses in the wind
a flame long since burned out, but whose echo has scared right through my heart
a reminder love storys like lighting strike but once
but what is a love story without love
how can this dream dare to tell a tale of two hearts whose lips never tasted the faintness of touch
no delusions do i suffer
a long life of love imagine i do not
our stolen moments now discard by time
my wish for a kiss lost to doubt
these precious petals of memory but a reflection in the wind
but still this dream
this secret place
where fate defies destiny
and love wages silent wars
this place where a boy can never forget the girl with sunset red hair.
perhaps i too must defy destiny for the chance to dance with you
must i follow the boy, whos heart can only be true and follow fate to where this dream meets the sun.
Oct 26, 2011
Oct 26, 2011 at 6:15 AM UTC
Have voice from between silence and authority,
so that reassuring quick compulsions as you destroy
and attack can last. None of the silent and empty men,
or boys, believe in living memory, only
in the evening dusk and foggy morning.
I thought about everyone else, kept away,
in my cold considering of the sun and night and helpless
sound. Away but in an awful time, back in circles,
lost as ever and wandering in a helpless way.
There was a stranger by the grass and I could see
his eyes, quick and cold and hard. I was seeing my senses -
sight, smell - and a faintness seemed to topple away
and leave me alone, where there were no strangling men
or ***** far-away wildernesses. Foul and torn, a cruel
face with no eyes hit the bone and screamed a breathless,
lungless scream, as though the whole place had stood up,
****** and left. I should have died.
Noise was coming from hard men's voices, white burning
and white flesh, when they saw and called out to them.
Rasping on the thorns, I understood that the boy,
and everything else, was like an acorn falling
from the oak tree. The man left and I went slowly
rolling into the choice I was choking on.
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 12:13 PM UTC
My mouth is guided to a pasture of white roses
The momentum of the unseen builds like a sparkling night
The dark shadows unhinge me as the stone wall stacks like bricks
The vines wrap around its crevices and webs into spontaneous paths
My mouth guides to the light as my eyes roll back
I decide to stick my arms to my chest and feel the light of dust roll onto my arms
Push, Push, Pull
I drink the light as my body is closer to full exposure of it's power
The tingling of teasing is so close
My heave to reach to the top of the rose garden is extraordinary
I push and pull with every arm, but every time my mind is more excited I become weaker
My mind is foggy
The roses are now blooming into red, and the night is changing into day and the lure of the mysterious is straying it's luster
As my weak body touches the top of the Stone Wall I split my legs into two and dangle my legs with the faintness of falling between the stone wall.
The moment my mind feels the light on my nose I fall back
I fall back into a dark black ground
My body rolls around in the ground as I find more ways to feel more sorry for myself
I am depressed with rage and sorrow
The light thickens into blackness and the roses begin turn into a darker more deep blood red.
I see my hands pick up the blood from my lips as they drip red, blue, black, and purple
I see my eyes as they puff up into black and my skin peels back into so many layers of rough edges
I wanted to be seen! Oh how I wanted to see the light of day! I wanted to feel the skin on my cheek.... I wanted to be seen in the light for what I am.
The stone wall held me back
The wall covered in roses took away my skin and gave me a different pair of eyes.
So I am looking at myself in the black water shielded by the sun, who is this body? What do these eyes want you to see?
They want you to hear the unheard and see what you can not.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 1:10 AM UTC
My wrists ache
They ache as tears flow from tired eyes
My chest hurts
It hurts from lack of air, too much air all at once
My heart beats the faintness of beats
It beats with no purpose
My thoughts have been overcome
Overcome with sadness
I am weak and only becoming weaker
There is not enough strength in me to carry on
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 10:09 PM UTC
a shooting pain
top right artery of the heart
constant throbbing
top right part of the brain
shortness in breathe
distortion galore
faintness
numb hands
freezing sensation
i never felt like i was dying
until after you.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 7:12 PM UTC
Are we denying the dying all about us, because we have all but decided to forego contemplations in lieu of more open doors? It's an entire community of individuals and collective mindsets that leap off bridges when it's dark and wet, alone while lonely. I see the darkness in my friends' eyes each time they look into mine, a reflection. Pain makes us remember, it's an indelible instruction on the soul. Forged in blood and tears is a lectern, beaming bright, a beacon. They gather, the lone and lost, souls. Ripped and torn. They look to me for comfort, for solace, finding none they turn their backs and weep, forever rejected and alone. It's still not my fault. I write with all honesty tonight. Pain is a choice, a path the mind consciously takes in response to provocations and stimuli. So, we're troubled, we're neglected and we symbolise our Oedipus Complex which, misinterpreted as other things remains hidden in deeds (endeavours). I'm beginning to regret ever writing this. They make me conform, I'm scared to death and I haven't been doing this for long. Give me some space.
Tears offer good cover. Negligence. Meaningful words, intent. Culpability, homicide and molestation. The difference is in the paper. Someone obviously wanted it that way. I pour my heart out. They deem me insane, weak. I create, they feel me trying to connect, to love. It's not enough. They leave me to die. I'm courageous, I'm envious. Don't encourage me. Embalm me, fluid. We're in drabness, we're playing with it and we're busy existing. You know me, you know her but do you know him? No. Call me in the morning, earliest. I have something to tell you. Sitting in faintness, crimson tides. Draw the curtains, tear off the blinds, see. Lines. The lighting was perfect, she sat and drew. Highlighting my imperfections and anatomy, I was smiling. She had to know me and they would see it. They had to see me and she grew to know me. Her body was a work of art. A grandly majestic one at that. Effeminate features broke loose all over my face and I tried to conceal my gracious side. I was caught. Unaware. Tonight we dine. This night I go to bed with you. Unashamed.
Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 12:35 PM UTC