"figureless" poems
I have a small bed
I lie in my little bed tonight
I don’t need a bigger bed because there is no second body to occupy the extra space
Extra sheets are necessary because there is no second body to warm my own
If I had a lover in my bed, our legs would intertwine and our arms would wrap around each other.
If I had a lover in my bed, the lonely, quiet night wouldn’t hear my thoughts…
But the noise of my voice and her voice, and little sounds that we make when our bodies clasp.
But the night is lonely, and it is cold, and my bed is still small.
Yet, I lie on the edge of this little bed, and behind me there lies empty space.
Does my mattress hear nothing but my thoughts, and feel nothing but my shaking body,
That it dares to make that little space for another?
It is enough space for a lover, yet there is no weight—only empty space.
My head, only owner of my thoughts, rests upon the pillow that has only felt a warm spot at a time
There is little that my eyes can see as I stare into nothingness, only darkness
Scattered light that penetrates from tiny holes of window curtains fades within the blackness
Blackness?
My eyes close and no one whispering behind my ear, only metal springs that my ears can hear
I am scared, but my arms and ribs tremble not of fear but of solitude,
A solitude that will crawl up in my bed in the middle of the night
Cold and figureless, ******* up little by little the remnants of my life
And yet, this bed doesn’t fear, for it waits for the second warm spot on the pillow.
Perhaps my dreams deceive it, but can it not see that they are but figments of the mind?
Perhaps I’ve deceived it, when it hears my thoughts on these cold, solitary nights.
Now, no light can penetrate these lids, for they’ve been seduced by midnight sleep
No second to wrap around, only solitude will intertwine
Now, no blankets can warm this back, for the warm lover hands never came
And so, I can only lie and put my thoughts to rest in my cold, lonely, little bed…
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 11:55 PM UTC
I think I really am dying
Where there was once a vibrancy,
In the first name that I wouldn’t remember anymore,
Winds that only whisper it still **** its flame,
And still, everything's the same,
Perhaps: something important collects dust in a drawer.
But I guess I was just in love with the day,
And by elimination, not the person.
I absolutely adored the rays of the sun,
the green leaves on the trees and tall grass by the path.
So I guess 1+1=0, according to the aftermath,
and taking one away from itself ends with none.
And that right there just might be how I passed the time,
By distracting myself from framing pictures with no captions.
Now I can clearly remember the day,
the now anonymous smiles and warm open skies,
The breezes long sought for, the figureless eyes,
Now all I'm capable of remembering is the day.
Forcefully ejected into space, those other memories
fly.
Of course, I still have them, but of course
I deny.
If I were so forgetful, my words would be
real,
For I can reject the details and the poison,
but I just can't reject how they made me
feel.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 4:23 AM UTC
Death
I've been thinking about it a lot lately.
No. Not thinking about dying, but about the whole concept of it.
Death
The end of life.
The only thing we all share.
There's a million different ways of dying, some better, some worse, but the outcome is always the same.
Some get it sooner. Some get it harder. Some get it painful.
What do I think?
I think death is the ultimate goal.
The cure for this terrible disease called life.
The end of all suffering. A state of eternal bliss.
Peace
It hurts when someone close to you dies.
It hurts me too, even though I know they are far better than we, the living.
Life hurts. Life stings. Life kills.
Many people fear death.
No one fears death. We fear the way we die.
We fear the uncertainty of what comes after it.
So what comes after death?
Decomposition of the body. That's it.
Your conscience is as gone as your body, and neither will come back.
Everyone may believe what they want spiritually, religiously or whatever.
Physically, the fact remains the same.
Death
The end of life.
Eternal bliss.
The thing I fear you catch before me.
It is a cult we all adore.
The god we fear.
The one true god we get to meet.
A grim entity that handles us with the utmost care and love.
A cold embrace that doesn't let go.
Numb.
A symphony of silence.
White paint on a white canvas.
An unsculpted statue.
A figureless sleep.
The most rude awakening.
Death
My most recent thought.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
We shall dance
In the darkness,
When the moon is low in its brilliance
Allow our shadow less graces to advance
Amongst out figureless traces
Embrace what time won’t allow
Soon, we will dissolve into pleasures of romance
Tired from our mysterious ritual of instances.
Breathe your seducing treasures upon my
Sweet gracious fortitude of chaos
Torment my mind with limited words of affections
While I tease your persona with restricted symphonies of
Lyrical versus
Shall we remain wordless?
Dark roses fill our lungs
Singing mindless praises
Into the sweet alluring air of seduction
With no introduction
Mend back my broken art
As I repair your broken heart.
We struggle under our weight of
Hushed passions in rushed fashions
Fearing the passer bys will acknowledge our
Unorthodox orchestration of tempered frustrations.
I float on volcanoes
He wallows in nucleus graces
Featureless faces express a thousand rhetorical Bases
Words unknown to the English language…
Enveloped in bliss, sealed by your kiss
I miss the earth’s stable grounds
Waiting to depart from Venus,
The goddess of love calls my name
I ignore her, blue, holding my breath
In vain…
Quickly. Quickly
Swiftly. Swiftly
We paradise
Jun 24, 2010
Jun 24, 2010 at 7:03 AM UTC
the end begins with a dim red glow.
the smell of absinthe and smoke.
your mind can’t help but wander
to the first time you touched
her velvet skin;
the first time you weren’t alone.
6:48 AM drive until you forget the reason why.
day floods orange;
swallowing marigolds and incense ashes.
the smell of patchouli is not enough to mask your loneliness.
dawn breaks; sunrise fills your being.
slowly engulfed in warmth,
fall in love with yourself all over again.
10:23 AM grassy seas sweep across the horizon.
the yellow of contentment settles.
wildflowers and zebrinus scratch at your legs;
sunlight reddens your shoulders.
lay down,
rest your eyes,
embrace the sense of well-being.
4:07 PM find solace in the tallest oak.
as you overflow with green comfort,
breathe out,
breathe in,
feel the pulse of the earth.
fade into your surroundings;
live and become life.
8:49 PM your house has never been a home.
blue gently pierces your windowpanes.
shed your skin,
crawl under the sheets,
fall asleep to the sound of your breathing.
find comfort in your solitude;
you are not half a person.
11:20 PM drift into the R.E.M. stage of existence.
city lights of violet chaos.
reminiscence of better times
fills your restless mind.
fall into the static noise.
figureless bodies and neon signs
call you home for the night.
1:39 AM stare into the abyss, because it’s staring right back.
eternal black bleeds fast.
“thinking about the past is weird.”
“that’s because it’s a weird place.”
a storm of recollection.
saut dans le vide, my lover.
nothing awaits you anymore.
7:12 AM the soothing of wounds and the shock of awakening.
new life shines white.
eyes open,
light burns your irises,
though clouds blanket the sky.
paper planes fly toward the future,
mirroring the happiness you will soon find.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
Not in sight
not by day
Nor by night
Sinking ships
Sunlight figures
Turn grey and figureless
Lost in space
Lost in time
No rythym
Nor rhyme
Words lose meaning
Truth stinging
Emotions bleeding
Pooling into misunderstanding
Trying to piece it together straining
Looking down upon sanity
Blasphemous in my vanity
Double standards
Life's dander
Dont mean to banter
In a mental decanter
I recount my misdeeds
Still planting bad seeds
Untruths turn to lies
In a world of black flies
Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 10:19 PM UTC
Feel helpless
Ask for help
From the figureless man
Supposing he resides
Somewhere in the sky
With a giant
Helping hand
That only comes into existence
When you decide
When you feel your most selfish
When you cling most
To your meaningless life
Next time
Don't ask
Break the paradigm
Accept your fate
And die
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 4:25 PM UTC