"foils" poems
There will always be an Autumn spat
where the cat foils the dormouse
and the Annual taster chocolate box
arrives as nonchalant
as the mysterious sender.
Sometimes I wish we were boxing hares
to really celebrate an outlet for renewed anger.
Munching on my bagels, i feel a pang of Hypocrisy.
I run fickle, planning out the chequered
season.
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 8:11 AM UTC
The picnic bench foils under the body weight of my half drunk self
There is a cat cuddling up to me, with her tail
Pink Floyd plays in the background, as the cat brushes up against my legs
Brings a feeling like something of the loch ness Nessie
Shirley sits beside me, watching the night sky
And focussing on my presence and cigarette smoke
I pet her, and she stays
Smoke and inhale
The cars bustle by
The final places of another busy day
The wall is built and she stays beside me
But she now has disappeared
Inhale, exhale
Smoke my smoke
And drink my 4th beer
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC
"236 miles into the Atlantic.." the captain crackles,
I find the foils of snow and sand here,
dust and ridges etched ashore on Andes
mountain tops and the way
the wind seduces the elements to dance only
for her to laugh and slap down.
The escargot and garlic alligator
shift, below in crates. The drunken
feet stumble to the jazz of the
ocean and the timbre of the coconut ***
on their way to the formal dinner promised
in this passage of escape. They saunter
but the ocean's sighs harmonize with her laughter.
"At night the opal blue sinks beneath black
but," she says, "I still see the jovial mist's blue dance."
So we toast with Shiraz and join the drunken
music with our drunken neighbors, souls drunk
and eyes feasting on oil candles and neon CARNIVAL
shot glasses that aid us, the broke, to run harder
into the night and away from the damnation of land.
I, you all, know that is what this is,
what vacations, rest, water, Advil, sunscreen
all promise and whisper and ****** until
they force your feet to dance so they
can laugh as they slap you down ashore,
awake, thirsty, throbbing, burnt into the reality
you left for the past five glorious days.
Ah, and glory- you see?
The majesty of the waves and allure
of purple and green fade when compared,
remember? Nature is symmetry and
the depravity of pain pales in comparison
to the glory of salvation. Look to the sea,
see where Christ walked.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC
***Autumn is icumen in,
With all its tricks,
Its treats and whims.***
I can't mourn
Summer's passing;
Those days
Of idle slumber.
Summer suns
And midnight moons,
The silhouettes of June;
Holiday highs,
Mad July;
The robust garden
Lust of August.
I won't.
Autumn air
Affronts my senses,
The Arctic cool
Dips and rules.
The moss has left
The trees;
Arthritic twigs
Let lose
The leaves.
Autumn is icumen in
Autumn,
With its foils
And foibles,
Rakes us in
With harlequin sins,
And all its
Wherewithal.
Embrace your fall.
Winter is icumen in
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC
this devilish craft
by which you lead me down the wet road
down through the spent leaves littered along the side of the pavement
some with their open faces upwards
fine lines intercepting
trace them with fingertip and craftsman's eye
paste them in scrapbook
keepsakes of a fall romance now that its spring
but they resurface
bakes a sunday morning bread filling the house with earthen tones of scent
and filling the mind with cravings from childhoods fable
and i pass this dark bread to her
but she refuses it
i eat of my own conversation within my mind
going over and over the exchange of ideals
that have never been held
beyond the borders of thought
its within this madness she foils my defences and
pulling me forward into the afternoon's slow lazy breath
and rifled through my brazen pocket treasures
thinking to have daring crimes of her own
from which she would someday
be an old hand like me
foiled by my poormans lint
out of my pocket and into
her device of night
its forced lock lay broken against the breached wall
but she is the pretender's delight
and make great noise and show of denial
seating me at a banquet for hungry hearts
her healed hand burnish and clean
leaves me at last
sitting among my peers
with a rolls royce of romance
she just laughs
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
Fate, fate, fate
well what an awful mess I've made
tried to solve this jigsaw puzzle
ended up hardening the shapes
Oh fate
falling like a thousand bricks in my way
foils my plans
of loving you properly
destiny, you tender tease
Why?
Why'd you shatter my bones?
Leave me lost, void of control
in a shallow grave I made
lay my former misguided passions
covering shackles on my legs
lose lose lose
all I ever seem to do
when all that I comprehend
I try to hang it on a noose
inside a
room room room
filled with opaque absolutes
and curried apprehension
broken bottles with no excuse
Remedy, oh remedy
my free will thinker
embodied by poisoned truths
I dream of only you
sweet, sour dues of resurrection
have yet to stumble in my life,
promising no goodbyes
But fate fate fate
Led my former love astray
It's better this way
It's better this way
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 4:43 AM UTC
*Autumn is icumen in,
With all its tricks,
Its treats and whims.*
I can't mourn
Summer's passing;
Those days
Of idle slumber.
Summer suns
And midnight moons,
The silhouettes of June;
Holiday highs,
Mad July;
The robust garden
Lust of August.
I won't.
Autumn air
Affronts my senses,
The Arctic cool
Dips and rules.
The moss has left
The trees;
Arthritic twigs
Let lose
The leafs.
Autumn is icumen in
Autumn,
With its foils
And foibles,
Rakes us in
With harlequin sins,
And all its
Wherewithal.
Embrace your fall.
Winter is icumen in
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 9:16 AM UTC
There's something cooking in my brain, but I'm intrigued by what it may boil
Ripples cover the picture frame, through pouring tears my vision foils
The clock has stopped breathing, where is the beloved Tick and Tock?
The black curtains are freezing, or could it be my cold blooded hands that caused the shock?
I've taken nothing to be in this portrait
Looking at it, all you can see is sin
I am who I am
I've done what I've done
Go ahead, be a *****
See what you become
Your reflection will taunt you:
*"Show me that chest.
Lets see what he might find tomorrow under that dress.
Oh, you look so good!
Love the red lips..
But the best part is when you're naked and they compliment your hips."*
The money is on the nightstand
Adventure is all you crave
Just for one day..
Don't be a slave
This addiction is pleasure
But it brings so much pain
I lie and I cheat my family and disappoint my friends
But hey... I'm selfish and occasionally vain
I'm getting ready to go on the town, today will not be a waste
I have something that I want.
And when there is something I want, I go for the chase..
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 2:11 PM UTC
The swampy heat draws swarms of bottle-glass
eyed flies who I'll buzz with their Christian name:
dragon. They hover, dive, then skim tall grass;
Cellophane wings beating hurricanes. Game's
afoot, but where? I've seen the solo flight,
pairs mating, but never so many flames
bounced off blue-green foils by the sun's white light.
Their gather's a check for black plumes of beasts
gone unbalanced to these hunters' delight.
If on mosquitoes they make seasoned feast,
my meek blood inherits to this world's least.
Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 9:56 AM UTC
I've waited so long, I'm walking to you
If you'll walk to me by dawn.
I'll give you red diamonds and the black pearls
Give you something for your finger to have on
I'm standing in the street waiting for crunch time to calm me,
I thought I knew you better than this, I know you knew me better
Than you would ever let on.
The way you wore your father's Captain's uniform,
You are the stewardess and pilot both,
I'm the admiral of this flotilla racing across the Aegean to meet your coast,
But often it seems I'm rowing a dinghy into the arms of the storm of your ghost.
Meet me in Palo Alto
Where the devil's giving me dollar for dollar on my soul.
Three thousand miles of traveling the brainwaves
To California, to San Francisco I go.
Some women wait, others they lie, some they hate just for sport
Some men find it troubling to live in their sins while the rest of us
Weather the storm.
Brown paper poetry scribbled on bags,
cut throat couplets, haikus and prose
Drinking and tripping and looking for junk
Just a collection of madness in its throes.
The petals have draped themselves over your body,
Can you taste God in your foils?
I'm just waiting to collide into the skin
My fortune said you'd bring
I can do without the tertiary friends like that red-headed *****
Megan whose company you keep.
When it comes to taking every piece of treason don't underestimate
Their thievery. They'll drink from your fountain of abuse, until their
Goblets sear their lips and burn away their tongues.
The universal language of O- blood lust, is just beginning to be enough.
Doctors say you've died, but your heart's on fire
I'm just a conflagration where there used to be a man
My veins sweat the poisons of quiet disease,
They can crash while we burn alive,
Sitting quietly together in Dolores Park,
While our toxicity kills us inside.
Let's just wait here and burn alive.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 9:03 AM UTC
I am eager to express
This is not a playground,
nor a hawking station
adrift in a saline breeze.
I am not surprised at this reaction
personal pride foils this wanton randomness
toddling home,
I feel surrounded by poetry books
and before long I lie to myself
inventing that I have endless possibilities
Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 4:12 PM UTC
In the dark room
Sparks fire—
Whispers of the sun
And silence blankets the sky,
I was born amongst the ruins
Of gentleness and wounded love,
By the dug kurgans of the Amazon,
The brands of rains ever burning
And foils of hope, fated, turning,
An outer beast eyes and howls,
The merciless stars ever sweep
And cowl in coldest sparkle flame,
Merest minded words, fainted, stab,
Drop in the down volumes of space
Evaporating under the brooding
Mortal emptiness.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
you're tactless,
spineless,
and mindless,
i would forgive you,
but i'm fresh out of
kindness.
and i never understood your
obsession with those tin foils and straws,
just another bullet point on your
long list of flaws.
i heard you mumble something under
your breath,
sorry, what was that?
i can't hear you,
you're so close to death.
i try to quit you,
but i don't know why.
whenever i think about you all i
can do is ******* cry.
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 2:11 AM UTC
Happiness does not come packaged in prescription bottles
Or plastic baggie, top carefully sealed
It cannot be found at the bottom of empty shot glasses
Or finished beer cans, that is not where it's revealed.
Joy will not be found rolled up in a joint
Not discovered in a small cardboard box
Or scattered among powder lined on a mirror
I have scoured many vials stocked with shiny rocks.
Smoking herb might cause you to laugh and smile
Hallucinogens can open your mind
Fun feelings fade you'll feel worse than before
Without aid of drugs contentment will be hard to find.
Soon you will spend time chasing chemicals
In form of a **** tab, straw, or syringe
Whether you puff, eat, snort or shoot
It comes down to the same unhealthy binge.
Do not waste your life wrapped in burnt-up foils
Foraging through crumbs for a shroud of hope
We all have different ways of escaping
Some fall too deep and never climb back up the steep slope.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 2:06 PM UTC
In the dark room
Sparks fire—
Whispers of the sun
And silence blankets the sky,
I was born amongst the ruins
Of gentleness and wounded love,
By the dug kurgans of the Amazon,
The brands of rains ever burning
And foils of hope, fated, turning,
An outer beast eyes and howls,
The merciless stars ever sweep
And cowl in coldest sparkle flame,
Merest minded words, fainted, stab,
Drop in the down volumes of space
Evaporating under the brooding
Mortal emptiness.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 2:34 PM UTC
all three came and gone,
I’m in the slow poke lane,
all-the-way-to-the-right
my days in the passing lane,
driving like a crazy man while
composing poems @85 mph
they, you, slowed me down,
teaching the old dog an old
lesson: new tricks are for the
children I’m leaving behind,
as they pass by speeding to
god-knows-where, and-why
there are no more queens in
my boogie nights, love a some
time thing, but what I know this:
when I ran, the wind was running
behind my back, and pushing me
hard to travel non-stop, what I think
about is this, my arms child-extended,
like a jet’s wings, the wind streaming
over my foils, I knew better-than-good
scratched my mark in the soil, still
finding my spot, to drop down and
write these words, to sleep in peace
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 7:41 AM UTC
I know you
All of you
You the spores
The tendrils
The green shoots of a mighty tree
I know you
The perpetually in-the-back-ground
Those wallflowers
Silent spectators
Standing as character foils to the revolution
The anti-rebels
The sedentary
I know you
The viciously unchanging
I have seen you
I have felt your inert presence
Your supreme lack of influence
Your defining apathy
Your ignominious existence
And your abhorrent sanctimony
Yes, I have been one of you
But I have grown from you
And I hope to, by my mere existence
Prove
That you are not permanent
That something can become of you
Because, as I have said
I was you
But now
I am not.
Jun 9, 2011
Jun 9, 2011 at 6:46 PM UTC
We men at best are only crimson kings
***** caught between the diadem and throne;
We wield the power, weep at what it means-
Miles to conquer, and none of it is home.
We laugh at jokes and toasts, as it's expected,
Reward well both the Jester and the Count
Though little things of kingdom get neglected,
While we the weary battle foils must mount.
But there's one crown of curls, upon one head,
That I'd go farther than the oldest tales;
She sleeps so near now, in her downy bed-
Most men stay free, inside their private hells.
Some night I'll bribe the Moon, in his far space
And build within my heart, a special place..
Aug 25, 2010
Aug 25, 2010 at 7:38 PM UTC
the distant, dull, the dreamy star,
of all the orbs in the sky so far,
plight it had–of the strangest kind,
reaping the foils of its curious mind
alone it was amidst the crowd,
gales of time whilst thundering loud,
youth was to come, its youth is to fade,
abashed of its shine, its fancy charade…
yet incomplete :(
shekhar suman.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
Do you remember in the mist
When we kissed those ships goodbye?
Riding high on the Spanish Main
The reign supreme
And bearing down on Phillips fleet and crown
Cannons roar and fencing foils
Gaining spoils?
Then somewhere up Tortuga way
A sheltered bay
Brandy and the local fare
Do you remember being there?
The salt..the spray did have a way of making life so real
The steal of winds across the bow
And how we hid when storms arose
The rosy glows
The lantern lights
The endless waving starry nights.
I remember all of this
The final Kiss as we went under
The gentle thunder in my ears
We buccaneers were born to die
To fly our masts on another Isle
I while away eternity in what could be
Forever.
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
Take a deep breath, dont stress
Your face is sweaty, plams are heavy
Your attitude is fire, up for higher
But on the surface your calm and nervous
Never forgetting with what you have was over
NOT
Get on the cabby, change your abilities
Hit up the blasphemy with your rice burnin *** to me
Punch me not, you had one hit one chance to take
Make amens and hit the spot but where you rock
Is where my chance failed,
it turned around an hit the ground
Faster than the fat man who fell to the ground...
BALLED FIST HURL AT YA
WHILE YA FALL TO YOUR FEET
GIVE ONE CHANCE AND HE'LL **** YA
IN THE MOMENT
YOU GOT ONE CHANCE TO MAKE THE RIGHT
WRONG IS SOMETHING THAT KILLS THE LOT!
Blood drips down your face, your a putrid disgrace
Tears are hot, feeling like a Melting ***
The skin boils and foils yet your regrets toil mercenaries who are paid to retort their moral
Make you grasp your souls strength
Call it hard knock, call it half cocked,
Give me a scent that replenishes with repent
Reprimand me for all that I said
NOW I GOT THE WORLD ON MA SHOULDERS
LITTLE TO LIFE WITH THE NEW WORLD ORDER
GIVE ME GOLD OR ALL THE BOARDERS
BRING IT NOW OR BACKHAND THE RULER
AND ILL BE ****** IF I EVER LET YA GO
IN THE MOMENT
YOU GOT ONE CHANCE TO MAKE THE RIGHT
YOU BETTER FIGHT IT OR TAKE FLIGHT!
Get up on the edge where the place is the when
Would you put yourself on your feet again
If you had that problem progressively following
Facilitating itself itchin'
Where it kills itself in digression
With your dreams fulfilled
The grudgeless tension
Feasting on the suspension
You'd have never let it go
IN THE MOMENT
MOMENTUM FLOWED AS THE FIRE GOES
GHASTLY DENYING OUT OF THOSE SPYIN
OVER THE HORIZON SETS THE GOOD KAISER
SWOOPING OVER LOOMIN YA OUT
In deseption you fall from the aggression
This fight has driven out of sight
From what you thought was right
Might is what you had, now your nothing
And the enemy has won!
IN THE MOMENT
YOU LOST YOUR FIGHT
GIVE THAT DISREGAURD TO YOUR BLITHE
BELLIGERENT BUST YOU POPIN YOUR MOUTH
MUFFLED MATTER COMES OUT
ITS RED RULE
SO IT NOT COME FROM DOWN SOUTH
so cold and broken
Merely unspoken
Coughing up lament
Showing yourself........ Truely some self disrespect
Take your loss and uphold it
Create something more than a foiled moment
Get back up cuz
IN THE MOMENT
YOU GOTTA MAKE WRONG TO RIGHT
SET YOURSELF UP FOR ONLY WHEN REDEMPTION ONLY SEEMS RIGHT!
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
In the dark room
Sparks fire—
Whispers of the sun
And silence blankets the sky,
I was born amongst the ruins
Of gentleness and wounded love,
By the dug kurgans of the Amazon,
The brands of rains ever burning
And foils of hope, fated, turning,
An outer beast eyes and howls,
The merciless stars ever sweep
And cowl in coldest sparkle flame,
Merest minded words, fainted, stab,
Drop in the down volumes of space
Evaporating under the brooding
Mortal emptiness.
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 4:15 PM UTC
I lay there so silently
Blinking, thinking, quietly
In the darkness in the gloom
Impending, coming, looming doom
End of thoughts, pond’ring not
Mind is blank, no song, no plot
Emotions come not to me
And yet they do, constantly
No line, no order, lords Chaos come
It’s as good as if there were none.
To be poem is to be complex and yet
Too compound is this to be writ and set.
I think not what this problem means
For when my mind touches there, void endless seems
Falling nowhere in the nothing, mind recoils
Snap me back to life and its foils.
Help! it’s a cry. Floundering as I lie
Help! it’s a scream. Splitting at my seam
In this mediocre cycle of a life-dream.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 10:24 PM UTC
I have returned
Although I must,
To this glittering bowl of dust
I had to,
In this so similar form
The jackals recognize my shade
In the dark, they watch and stalk,
My moon to daylight sun
The seasons of my change.
The pupae without
Awaiting for grand mals
Or some winged departure
Of my light
Expecting me to fall...
But seasons stir with lightfoot
Pages turned,
Between the numbers in all that
Man's made
Hands knocking hours
Ticking seconds
Minutes crawling
Under every door
Like a shadow unnoticed underfoot
Moments walk on wires
As life watches from below
Or is it vice versa?
The Circe du foils
The urchins that we drown to be
Voila! Not much ventured
In the rings and side shows
We spectacles
Of flesh
Fallen and fearing
The feelings
Of just before
Steps
(Beyond)
If catlike careful some nimble beast
I must be
To return from the place
That once birthed and attempted
****** the unlearned me
I am too
American in the humidity
The parasitic biting
The heat
I'm a stranger in strange islands
Beautiful mystique
Of superstitious super strength
The beliefs become aswang legends
Come true life
The slaughtered pig as sacrifice
I vomited and **** out
My inner being
Waters of life projected out
The length of tongue and the depth
Of insides
Gushing out
Even through my tears
And delirium...
Possessed as tho' a lever had been pulled
To reverse what flowed in
The nutrients
The rehydration of excretions
Sucker punched to spew
And thru the pain I knew
The swine and its smug snorting laughter
And the old ones in the villages
Living among their own dead
In the trees and sands and sea
Their jealousy of City boy me
The threat I must be
Fearful of what I might ****
Tho I dare not and have not
Done
Unto
As they have now done to he
I have karmic grace
To make them mine,
But what and why would I want
Such long gone then and agains
Or rage against
In revenge?
At my beautiful motherland
The face of my race
The home of my blood
I keep my silence as their defeat
Render them
As a breeze through palm trees and hiss of sea
Rumors of the weather
Food poisoning
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC
you drive me to hurting myself,
I become insane when your no longer there.
The insanity, creeps up on the walls of my house,
bedroom,
like a nightmare it fills up my bed,
foils itself around me,
mind,
filled with thoughts that you might be with someone else.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC