"fissions" poems - Hello Poetry

I am always growing stronger. I crack and I build I crack and I build Welding back together parts of myself To strengthen. Not all cracks heal seamlessly. I am always crumbling. Breaking at the fissions Falling a few feet Always climbing back up again. Always growing stronger. I crack and I build. I just wish I didn't crack so often.

0

Feb 24, 2014

Feb 24, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC

tessa-f

Cracking

I am always growing stronger. I crack and I build I crack and I build Welding back together parts of myself To strengthen. Not all cracks heal seamlessly. I am always crumbling. Breaking at the fissions Falling a few feet Always climbing back up again. Always growing stronger. I crack and I build. I just wish I didn't crack so often.

13

Within the air, defined with moss and lichen, and casualties of wet rotting wood-depletion on the dregs of the summit, is a flicker of reality. Here, no naked cedars or fair-weather friends are bent and leaning along the sturdy, unadorned spines of rifle green spruces. The stone-crushed trail takes above the haze of tree lines, founding a path by and beyond the fickle trustworthiness of rocks, and the wind carries all of fog and cloud away, and whispers like one thousand ghosts, and deceives the shrouded mountain’s inclines, unfolding above unto the soft clarity of dew and silence. The only reality is a place where the neck can ease its craned crooked coils to view the now-seemingly distant and muted pale orb of a star. And nothing here cannot breathed with. And nothing that can’t be understood is here amongst the scarred-ancient black cliffs and fissions of olden earth-crust and time. And nothing scales above the lonely, opening a prayer in the sky and the space.

0

Nov 21, 2011

Nov 21, 2011 at 1:02 PM UTC

devan-proctor

Present Moment #21

Within the air, defined with moss and lichen, and casualties of wet rotting wood-depletion on the dregs of the summit, is a flicker of reality. Here, no naked cedars or fair-weather friends are bent and leaning along the sturdy, unadorned spines of rifle green spruces. The stone-crushed trail takes above the haze of tree lines, founding a path by and beyond the fickle trustworthiness of rocks, and the wind carries all of fog and cloud away, and whispers like one thousand ghosts, and deceives the shrouded mountain’s inclines, unfolding above unto the soft clarity of dew and silence. The only reality is a place where the neck can ease its craned crooked coils to view the now-seemingly distant and muted pale orb of a star. And nothing here cannot breathed with. And nothing that can’t be understood is here amongst the scarred-ancient black cliffs and fissions of olden earth-crust and time. And nothing scales above the lonely, opening a prayer in the sky and the space.

1

There are one-hundred-and-seven-point-eight pounds of what I’m pretty sure could destroy you, if it really wanted to (and It does. It does). Because I know you don’t remember the magic like I do, of when my neck first stretched itself so that I could reach those newly-licked lips beneath the cataclysmic explosions in the sky above our heads – and it was we who were those fissions and fusions erupting in the night. Eruptions so cacophonic to me and yet to everyone else they were so silent… unnoticed. Perhaps they were to you as well, for you seem to have forgotten. And now I do **** thee – your amnesiatic self and she – to take this cross from off my spine and find a hillside on which to burn (and do not doubt that the flaming match will be flung from my very own fingers). And may your skin seethe in the hell you tossed me into with your lies and fickle promises and your strange interpretation of what love may be (is this what your sweet mother taught you?). You were right when you said that love was in the fire shooting through the sky that night, and yet the only remainders are the fallen cinders resting in my hair today. So here and now, my love, I grant you the distance that you so desperately needed to give reason to your pitiful excuse to break my heart. For you I will build a boat out of fallen trees, and it will take me so far away (if only in my brain). And I will sail away as you turn to ashen residue, and smile, for the sky will be marked by a peculiar clarity.

0

Aug 22, 2010

Aug 22, 2010 at 5:37 PM UTC

m-annalise

Explosions in the Sky (pounds of what)

There are one-hundred-and-seven-point-eight pounds of what I’m pretty sure could destroy you, if it really wanted to (and It does. It does). Because I know you don’t remember the magic like I do, of when my neck first stretched itself so that I could reach those newly-licked lips beneath the cataclysmic explosions in the sky above our heads – and it was we who were those fissions and fusions erupting in the night. Eruptions so cacophonic to me and yet to everyone else they were so silent… unnoticed. Perhaps they were to you as well, for you seem to have forgotten. And now I do **** thee – your amnesiatic self and she – to take this cross from off my spine and find a hillside on which to burn (and do not doubt that the flaming match will be flung from my very own fingers). And may your skin seethe in the hell you tossed me into with your lies and fickle promises and your strange interpretation of what love may be (is this what your sweet mother taught you?). You were right when you said that love was in the fire shooting through the sky that night, and yet the only remainders are the fallen cinders resting in my hair today. So here and now, my love, I grant you the distance that you so desperately needed to give reason to your pitiful excuse to break my heart. For you I will build a boat out of fallen trees, and it will take me so far away (if only in my brain). And I will sail away as you turn to ashen residue, and smile, for the sky will be marked by a peculiar clarity.

1

Darkness, meet the sound of water I was a rampage, now I calm Barren from ****** charm Violet fissions igniting in my mind I can feel an end coming, A millennium long surrender My castles rumble on rolling waters Darkness, meet the sound of thunder

0

Nov 29, 2024

Nov 29, 2024 at 12:38 PM UTC

gnkayacilar

Darkness, meet the sound of thunder

Darkness, meet the sound of water I was a rampage, now I calm Barren from ****** charm Violet fissions igniting in my mind I can feel an end coming, A millennium long surrender My castles rumble on rolling waters Darkness, meet the sound of thunder

8

Imprecise incision upon the skin of my volition Fissions, colissions, the emission of diction Addition of Bliss and, Mist and, Fist and, ***** The taste of smoke, smoldering fiction The smell of **** and wasted wishes The time spent reeling numb, unsmitten

0

Oct 9, 2014

Oct 9, 2014 at 11:53 PM UTC

roger-marquis

Cold Coffee

Imprecise incision upon the skin of my volition Fissions, colissions, the emission of diction Addition of Bliss and, Mist and, Fist and, ***** The taste of smoke, smoldering fiction The smell of **** and wasted wishes The time spent reeling numb, unsmitten

10

did you ever think there is no bad did you ever imagine not caring at all thy will diffracted thy flesh devoured you are not you now you are me our minds are crushed into fine mist and as we travel as we soar as our consciousness dissolves we see the lights and strange emissions the colours, the shapes the massive fissions I am not me now I am you and we are all no big no small we understand there is no mission as we dream of television

0

Jan 30, 2014

Jan 30, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC

alejandro-perez

voyage

did you ever think there is no bad did you ever imagine not caring at all thy will diffracted thy flesh devoured you are not you now you are me our minds are crushed into fine mist and as we travel as we soar as our consciousness dissolves we see the lights and strange emissions the colours, the shapes the massive fissions I am not me now I am you and we are all no big no small we understand there is no mission as we dream of television

23

The earth burned with a fever that wouldn't falter my actions were influenced by the same, the red ball came spinning like a glowing orb, while my bat simultaneously called out its name. The beads of perspiration tumbled down, as the force pulled them apart, the ball bounced once - towards me, Physics had enacted its part. Fusions and fissions altogether, annihilated and synthesized, thoughts that wouldn't falter, even if the ball pitched twice. Vigour and power bloomed within, the thirst for victory sizzled out, the fizz turned into an intoxicating gin, and out came a guttural shout. The umpire tensed all his muscles and raised his hands to call me OUT, my mind was in a tussle, and all the grief needed a spout. All that was left was nothing, my shoes and my name were in vain, every footstep was more agonizing than a sting, life was turning me insane. The earth's fever had died down, and so had all of it in me, all my vision turned brown, and I was wasted.. wasted into the sadness of sea.

0

Oct 17, 2017

Oct 17, 2017 at 10:49 AM UTC

jeet-ratadia

Metronome of my mind

The earth burned with a fever that wouldn't falter my actions were influenced by the same, the red ball came spinning like a glowing orb, while my bat simultaneously called out its name. The beads of perspiration tumbled down, as the force pulled them apart, the ball bounced once - towards me, Physics had enacted its part. Fusions and fissions altogether, annihilated and synthesized, thoughts that wouldn't falter, even if the ball pitched twice. Vigour and power bloomed within, the thirst for victory sizzled out, the fizz turned into an intoxicating gin, and out came a guttural shout. The umpire tensed all his muscles and raised his hands to call me OUT, my mind was in a tussle, and all the grief needed a spout. All that was left was nothing, my shoes and my name were in vain, every footstep was more agonizing than a sting, life was turning me insane. The earth's fever had died down, and so had all of it in me, all my vision turned brown, and I was wasted.. wasted into the sadness of sea.

28