"fatiguing" poems
The days that are most full are the days spent pretending we weren’t waiting.
Our organs churn like machines producing twice their expected amount
Of free-flowing adrenaline, which we give a task to circle, rather than the drain
Of lonely, gut-wrenching “what-if-tomorrows”.
There’s the waking struggle of swinging your feet from your bed and testing your floor
And hearing a scream bubbling forth from the lethe, tickling at the daybreak,
And knowing that you must wrestle, mash, and toast it into a tasty breakfast morsel
Lest it overwhelm the dawn with restless shadows.
We drag the lengthy hours through the mud, fatiguing their thread, living mercilessly
Until they no longer resemble time, but immeasurable intangible everythings.
There can be no counting of patchwork days, only the art of making them count
What a productive little distraction, so I can pretend that I’m not waiting.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 4:38 AM UTC
Sweet, sterile, smooth, smothering
Epithelial aerobics abound
Cells curl and desiccate like tips of leaves past their prime -
Just give me one second.
I now live authentically, I say to myself
My heart is in the mountains
Despite words gurgled from my sweaty face in the swirling splendid solitude of darkness –
“Help!” is what I mean to say, but as I break the barrier between liquid and atmosphere
It is the air that chokes my breath -
Just one moment.
Bacterial bile bubbles up
At the sight of
Dirt – contamination – fear
Everywhere.
In pores
Out of pores
Under nails –
No, no more nails now –
Stuck deep inside my skin –
That no brush’s bristles can ever scrub away
Still, I try – God knows I try! –
Skin raw and red and deserving.
They’re in my wounds, too –
Salts and chemicals I choose to douse
But it only eats deeper
There is a ragged red hole in my skin now -
Just give me one second.
Jaw tight, teeth ache, head pounds
Hands dry despite the fatiguing humidity
So it helps to see the crimson creeping up the flag of my disposition
I like this proof of biological clarity,
Like rainwater gliding up the capillaries of a plant
In reverse -
So just hold on one moment.
There was a time when I felt truly free,
I know it in my heart of hearts.
I was free once
Certainly, I was free
I was free
I was truly free -
So just give me one second.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
Shaman who is keeping the flame.
Dancing like it's his last day.
Holding many secrets, knowing many fates.
Brown stubby knotted fingers do the pointing.
The young brown pups do the fetching.
Guiding the meek, chanting history.
He taught my family how to preserve mother.
Sometimes for sport, sometimes for balance.
Insisted we did this favour; not as ritual, but as rite.
We wait until the moon is filled of Mars.
We sing our people's song.
Sometimes a harmony, sometimes a challenge.
To do the shamans work; maybe *****
We roam in threes, sometimes fours.
Our sanctified goal to slay mother's cousin.
Tall ones, brown like us, bones gnarly from skull.
We huff, and puff; the winter cold.
Lungs tired after kissing the chilly breeze.
The tundra lit up with a crimson sheen.
Fatiguing the march, yet we fly.
Hunters we hunt, fast with four legs.
We single a herd, resting their heads.
We focus the small ones, biting and gashing.
They fell like birch trees, painting the powder.
Outnumbering us, sport turns to anxiety.
We bite, gnaw, **** and claw.
They fall hard to the Earth.
We don't feast, we have a mission.
Looting the bones, we keep them in submission.
Thinning them out; is our fed intuition.
Brothers grow tired, the prey devastated.
Mars reflects to us, as if saying mother is pleased.
The young brown pups do the fetching.
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 1:35 AM UTC
Here I sit
not knowing what to write
or how to do this.
A thousand tired emotions fatiguing
my mind while burning my heart.
Exhaustion from life has crippled me at 21
Love.
All I can think about.
Love
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 12:01 AM UTC
Entering forgotten sacred grove.
Before all; make sacrifice.
Waterskin filled with tears.
Empty gift into stream.
Become one; adjacent of Mother.
Kiss a leaf; covert fiber to ash.
Watch soot animate into air.
Luckily, favour is bestowed.
Invigorated, gaining great perception.
Seeing each foot step illuminate.
Prints of fiend and foe.
Auras of silver; some of gold.
Pulsing, accompanying each beating heart.
Lurk further, if not weak of mind.
Footing becomes treacherous.
Heels; weakened of frailty.
Parka too heavy.
Shedding skin, turning hope.
Colors looming; fading in, some out.
Fatiguing, yet desperate.
Swimming up, deprived oxygen.
Vines trip, knotted at ankles.
Trailing honey, scented guide.
Climbing higher, vision enduring infection.
Picking, chewing, freeing the whole apparatus.
Light reflects from above.
Tainted, the hand sinks down.
Grasping, something of power.
Sensations overflow.
Reality checks within.
Preciously ending.
White hands, angelically caress.
Bleeding no more.
Mending all wounds.
Awakening the fire.
Around pit, peers cheering.
Rite of passage endured.
One with nature, little child.
Flesh, bone, soot, ash, fiber.
Boy evolves to man.
Wonderous joy.
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 2:28 AM UTC
Concepts pulling,
Fatiguing, stealing my breath
My concentration fading,
And falling off a cliff,
To end me.
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 7:00 PM UTC
You stir through the room,
as if breathing was subconscious.
Your breath never wavers.
I'm acquainted with my breathing,
It's almost never instinctive.
It flickers.
Realistically,
we breathe the same air,
But yours is nimble.
And mine is undexterous.
My air is stagnant,
Breaths are fatiguing.
Lackluster.
You seem to rest on water,
Your movments are graceful.
Ethereal.
I struggle to breathe,
but our realities are different.
You'd never notice,
That I'm drowning.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
Two a day, little green capsules shining in the morning light popping out of their casing,
Two a day, as I swallow them with some water part of me to is washed away,
Two a day, altering who I am, turning me into a mould of what doctors and society think normal means,
Two a day, fatiguing, sleepless nights await and with them come the nightmares, so many nightmares,
Two a day, isolating my heart and what it once was, turning it grey and cold,
Two a day, that’s what they said, I despise it and I want to stop but without them I am nothing,
Two a day, who were they to punish me for what I couldn’t help, who are they to be enraged by what is out of my control, who are they to bring me down,
Two a day, what I once was I am no longer, what I will become is not my choice, I have grown dependent and weak, I have lost my freedom, never lose yours,
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 6:46 AM UTC
Unrelenting heat
Persists for protracted days
Outstaying it’s welcome now
Oppressive the lack of shade
Nowhere to escape and hide
From the blinding rays
Sweaty, sleepless nights
Wandering around in a daze
Fatiguing soaring temperatures
Sap vitality
Lounging is all I feel capable of
Low output, productivity
The air so densely humid
Almost another layer to bear
I yearn for the intermittent breeze
To cool and caress my hair
Gooey tarmac
Scorched white grass
Too prickly to sit
It scratches my a**e
Too sweltering now to bask
And obtain a golden glow
Instead I dodge the searing fingers
That singe me as they stroke
From dawn til dark and into the night
The temperature persistently high
I toss and turn and beg for mercy
But it continues until it’s light
Oh pretty please would you kindly
Turn it down a notch
It’s boring now, really
To be so burning hot
Bring on the rain
To cleanse us all
Extinguish the furnace
Rehydrate, let it fall!
Drench my skin
Until I’m soaking wet
Bring about rebirth
I entreat, nay, I beg!
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC