"frankness" poems
I’ve written words since I found out that those graphite sticks
could form them and wrote my name
on the top of a kleenex box
when I was four.
I’ve written words since I learned that each one
held a meaning I could hear in my head.
I’ve written words since I realized that writing
releases them from my mind,
so that I can hear myself think.
I’ve written words because numbers run away from me,
just out of grasp, teasing me with
their teamwork and rigid cooperation
and parenthetical expressions.
I’ve written words never read by anyone,
words which embarrass with their frankness
words which I’ve burned thinking they would die.
I’ve written words which I longed to share
because they fit together better than numbers
and made my skin crawl with their
deliciousness.
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 3:07 PM UTC
I want to call on your name
But I’m afraid you’ll ask “who are you?”
I want to run and follow you
But that’s not an easy thing for me to do
I planned of telling you my feelings
But words could not be enough for you to understand…
Words can deny my desire
They cannot reveal my sincere love
They cannot say what you really mean to me
But how will you know my passion
If I remain in my silence
If I tell you only in my dreams
If I just keep on expecting and hoping
How will you ever know
That there is me who cares
That I exist because of you
That I was born to love you
Who will I oblige to tell you
If it is not myself
If it is not my courage
If it is not my frankness
I may not tell you, but I can show you
Not with those hundred words
But with my own simple ways;
The way I gaze at you
The casual smile I give
And my existence not far enough from you!
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
*standing on the threshold of change, I await a fresh-line
but the universe may be unready
if not, I may take to choppy-waters
all by myself*
1.
if we are all stuck in the jam of time
perhaps, if we spread it out real thin
some of us could actually lift off
and catch a ride.. out
free some hostage from the twisting temporal-joints
and the wool-gatherers mind their business
and footsore beggars dine on exotic-things
deep in the heart of the jungle
where Nebuchadnezzar parked his dreams of old
by saving your surprise for a weekday jaunt
we limp on in the vacant-dust of paradox
yet get unavoidably detained by the present
undo the ribbons and the package may unfold its.. things
espy the tick-tock riding the margin of fright
common sense of morn lies delightfully unfinished
and the wrong side of a bold idea gets squashed
the brain-weary ingest their lot and plough on through thickets of tricky-fate
while tiptoeing silent on the farthest-blades of brimstone
holding subtly aloft.. the frankness of aiding-spectres
2.
balloon of green, balloon of blue
hold out your hand and pray you get no inequalities of flame
easy catch of the sound of science scoffing in the parlour
when we try to do something different; take a chance
uncivilised-humour will argue the rings off your punctured-lobes
any germ of new plan must needs be nurtured
let any frenemy go; intolerant-ilk do better by their vacuous selves
remarkably convenient
there's almost enough water in the well
to soak up the ivory-rays and let them fly
and there's a breeze lifting the needle off the ancient-groove
spinning reels on the bay
*no, you will never convince me
that the time-keeper holds all keys
'cos I snuck out furtive.. late one night
and sawed through.. for a whole decade
and well, guess what I have here..*
:)
S T - 24 Jan 2014
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC
Gestures always so polite
Doesn't seem right
Impurity and doubts
Falsely sweetened mouths
Good to the worst
No bitter words burst
No expression of offence
Nothing said in defence
So sweet, so easy going
So tolerant, so loving
No respect for self?
Left the heart on the shelf?
Observing the moves
Following the cue
Now I see you
You are one by two.
A brain so sly
Always telling a lie
Fooling honest souls
To reach your vicious goals
Talking ill behind ones back
Frankness you lack
I pity thy soul
It’s gone for a toll
Not brave, not true
A coward in you
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC
Just a list of things I love:
Laughter
Friendship
Inside Jokes
Chocolate
Camaraderie
Hugs
Old Stories
Words
Reading
Writing
Kindness
Loyalty
Food
Water
Rivers (the ones with rocks sticking out of them)
Animals
Learning
Science
The Ocean
Mountains
Winter
Ice
Wind
Sunlight
Teamwork
Music
Creativity
Positivity
Secrets
Honesty
Darkness
Light
Knowledge
Ignorance
Sarcasm
Frankness
Performing
Sharing
Cheering
Breathing
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC
I live for pleasure
And it bores me.
Out of measure,
I live deplorably.
In all frankness,
I always tell lies.
Reality is a mess
I lately despise.
Why not let go?
Why not fritter away?
Because I may never grow
Lest I see the end of the day.
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 2:27 PM UTC
It was on Hallowe'en when we said we'd meet;
as we thought it might be romantically spooky;
and I trotted gaily along the pathway
through the dimly-lit park
where the predator gay *** maniacs roamed
hoping for a bit of backdoor action
and my excited little heart went
"YI YI YI YI YI YAAAAARRRGGGHHH!"
with eager anticipation
of a hot new nymphomaniac date.
We had been a-texting with
ever-increasing frankness
for several weeks and I was beginning
to get tired of wiping the keyboard clean
after each bout of frenzied
manual self-stimulation
which she had boldly urged me to
and the built-in camera was out of order
because of the damp ***** build-up.
I found the pictures she sent me
stimulating to say the very least
especially the one with the melon
peeping out from between her legs
and I found her blood-red eyes
rather exciting really
once I got used to them;
and I was quite looking forward
to the love bites she promised me
which was why I had washed my neck
with particular attention to the blackheads.
Promptly at the stroke of midnight
my putative mistress arrived
with a ******* great clap of thunder
and to say I was surprised by her sulphurous breath
would be putting it mildly
and the fifty-five inch waist
was a bit of a disappointment,
and I honestly and truly think
she might have mentioned
the suppurating scabs
and oozing boils
or at least hinted at them.
As I fought the ravening hell-bitch off
with the hatchet I had wisely brought
in my briefcase as a safety precaution
once more I rued my innocence:
how many times have I been let down
after such high hopes from internet dating
and yet - trusting soul that I am -
I had again let my heart go astray.
Once it was all over
and I gazed down at her hideous
and mutilated corpse bleeding
and twitching on the ****** bitumen,
I lifted up her skirt
just to check the melon photo
hadn't been a fake;
and although there was no large
piece of fruit in situ at the time
I could see it had always
been a very real possibility.
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
Or do I already know?
I naively nourish these fervid feelings I hold.
Moving slowly, in rhythm, matching your sway,
Questionless is my admiration in every way.
Ardently I coast on the energy waves
Of your passions
And dispassionate despondency.
Waste the day together watching good TV;
It's not wasted if it's with you.
The never-ending riddle of learning how to love,
And learning how to love the one you love,
The one you think most of.
The unfaltering encouragement of success,
Filling in the blanks so the other won't stress.
I'll sweep the floors when you can't anymore,
Get us through the boring chores
Of every day life.
Those mundane motions for the future--
So much more to look forward to
With the addition of you.
Voices soften with the intimacy of quieter talk...
And the sensuality of our skin.
The carelessness and the giving in.
The tears shed, yours and mine,
Shared as "tiny dots on an endless timeline."
The subtleties of selflessness,
The subtleties of trying to change.
The obsession over mistakes,
Anxiety that keeps me awake.
Heated fights and
The addictive rush when we make up.
The selfishness, greed and possessiveness build up.
I am broken,
Or I act as if I am so.
I am broken, but there are sunflowers I wish to grow
In the broken *** within you
So that you may feel a little less broken too.
If this is love, I wish someone could tell me.
If this is love, why must it be so delicate,
Yet so assiduously enduring?
Continuous forgiveness
And the things we let each other get away with;
The "knowing better"s.
All those firsts, all those places that were meant to be with you.
Everything I would do
To make you smile.
How naturally I could laugh and feel at ease,
How naturally you brightened a smile on me.
How naturally, despite, we could become so miserable.
How naturally, despite, I could love so unconditional.
The wanting to just feel you there
Till we were unaware of our despair.
The frankness and the fall of our walls.
The letting go.
The folding up my heart and putting it away
When I can accept
It's not yet
To be worn by you.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
pestilence and
rapture,
two key elements
of
western civilization.
what is the difference
between a moth
and a
butterfly?
coffee stained teeth
catch soft whispers in the dark.
as we sit, surrounded by people,
frankness and penitence,
the priests, cops, postmen,
stockholders, school teachers,
slaughterhouse workers,
dishwashers,
garbage truck drivers,
prostitutes, strippers,
and hobos,
all working towards
what they believe to be the common good.
while we sit
in our chairs, wearing nothing,
clipping our toenails
each fractured fragment a whole.
we aren't alone anymore.
Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 9:33 AM UTC
Enchanted on my face
Public disgrace
Red boils down
Sheets a-torn
Feet adorn
Bare-less
Bar-less
***** & Distaste
Eyeliner and Cold sandwiches
Cod Liver Oil and Pokemon
Her eyebrows, they dance
Symmetrical and killer
Piercing my soul
Dark brown dinners.
The red mountain on the very tops of her skull
Framed by lion's mane
Beseeching eyes
Full lips
No kisses; birthmark of this
Teenage...Ageing
She's a fragrant fairy and I am a mountain top
Towering over the gangly red
No metal, yet no way to go ahead.
"Nothing to be done" yet "Beauty is truth, truth beauty"
Frankness is her subtlety
Raw age
Stark immaturity; pierced around a face of a lady of twenty.
I'd offer you wine, but a girl like you would prefer a coffee
Pick up this twenty, call me when you are thirty.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
With weary frankness I lean into
Evenings diffident shadows,
Wavering hues, grays and blues
Peering between the cloistered stars:
Endless dream I forgot how to navigate
Encompassing moments built by tidal movements
And sudden divisions between orbital shells
Inertial havoc starts the blood rushing
The world's a quagmire of uninhabited space
With lonely islands of pulsating matter
Suns unnumbered, rippling the waves collapse
Take all my heartbeats too, that as I languish,
The resonance might start another avalanche
The fiery, seeding vacuum of dawns early light,
That old magician's hat trick.
But be merciful to me, centrifugal womb of time;
Both the product and the witness
The sum of the totality only here, only this, only now-
This forever world, always just on the brink
Of breaking into a hundred thousand new worlds,
From insignificance multiplied
Far beyond any meaningful purpose:
For nobody controls even one solitary particle down here.
Apr 20, 2010
Apr 20, 2010 at 1:06 PM UTC
internal damnation
i want to give you my might
exploding
lividly seething
the point beyond the humility of ---
myriad,
illusive to the pull,
nervous, fuckingggggg, nervous,
i can break you so easily
in the cacophony of vesitude,
clamp that jaw shut
this instinct, knows not.
what is it but a point?
a venomous snake,
gunned down, shake!
you won't make it beyond my shanks.
livid,
past the channel bank,
the ferocious fury of furious frankness
who else could you **** inside you?
gentle, deliquency, dashing inside gritted bars.
i can walk away at any time.
within the coils, past all the strife,
the injustice abhors your incessant denial
I am not a part of your demise.
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 10:26 AM UTC
This song is written on my heart.
Each note hangs in the air before turning to smoke
and we inhale it here in your little bed,
breathe it in as we have most nights since you were born.
Not so long ago
I was someone else
Who was not your mother.
You don’t know her,
the Me who spent months of her young life poring over the sheet music.
I still have it, teenage pencil scratch covering the entire first movement.
“Sticky top notes” and “written when he was going deaf!” and rows of chord forms,
glyphs,
a cipher.
(Did you know:
Beethoven was dead when Ludwig Rellstab compared the famous first movement of his Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor to moonlight shining on a lake?
The sonata previously entitled “Quasi una fantasia.” Almost a fantasy.
The sonata written in blood from a broken body and a broken heart.
Poor dead Beethoven. Our art is truly not our own).
It strikes me odd
that a song such as this one
has become what it has become.
Radiance in despair, I suppose,
is universal in its bright raw frankness.
We stare. It stares back.
Tonight, blessedly,
that chasm of grief alive still and forever in the delicate weaving vines of plaintive melody stemming darkly from it
is far from your door.
Your breaths are slow and even now.
The song closes,
as it always does,
trying and failing to claw out of the darkness.
But you don’t know that.
Tonight it’s just a beautiful song.
And I am no one else
but your mother.
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 1:25 AM UTC
Someone uproot me, I want this no more
From the seeds that I planted a monster was born
The stem of my flower is filled up to pour
A venom I ****** up from under the floor
I know I'll soon see my mind in a war
But all of the bloodshed I will ignore
Instead you can find me pacing the shore
Polluting the waters with all I abhor
I'll keep spitting thoughts out in open candor
In hopes that my frankness will settle the score
This isn't a game you play til you're sore
But a choice that you make when you open the door
Scene after scene like a scripted encore
That's what you'll access when you try to explore
Beyond any fever dream I can soar
Riding the waves to the sun's very core
My flesh disappears in measures of four
One in each part of the earth it will *****
I'd built with my world a close knit rapport
It's how I could tell I had been here before
It seems I will be in this hell evermore
Forsaking the faith that once made me secure
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
IV
These fought in any case,
And some believing, pro domo, in any case ..
Some quick to arm,
some for adventure,
some from fear of weakness,
some from fear of censure,
some for love of slaughter, in imagination,
learning later…
some in fear, learning love of slaughter;
Died some, pro patria, non dulce et non decor..
walked eye-deep in hell
believing in old men's lies, then unbelieving
**came home, home to a lie,
home to many deceits,
home to old lies and new infamy;
usury age-old and age-thick
and liars in public places.**
Daring as never before, wastage as never before.
Young blood and high blood,
Fair cheeks, and fine bodies;
fortitude as never before
frankness as never before,
disillusions as never told in the old days,
hysterias, trench confessions,
laughter out of dead bellies.
from Hugh Selwyn Mauberley
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 5:36 AM UTC
hello my ocean, we haven't talked in a while and i am drunk, so please forgive my frankness. i miss you like earth would miss the sun, i miss you like the air, i miss your face and your hair, i miss you. wholesomely and forever. every day we grow millimeters apart. i have come to the supreme realization that from the point when you intentionally separated us, we have become opposing magnets, and our hearts only seem to be able to push away. how i long to grasp you, hold on to your body, until the natural force of our separation rips me apart and spills my blood all over the landscape beneath our heavens above. but you wouldn't want that would you? all you want from me is to go quietly into the dark, so you can bask in your shining independence. so i will go. without fight, without struggle or scene. but know my love is still there, in the dark damp hole you walked away from, starving for the light. hoping the tides change, and you are swayed to seek my being.
goodnight, my love.
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 3:23 AM UTC
Some people know
how to surround themselves
with shields of rhetoric
appropriate to their time
they find believing followers
who take a while
till they are undeceived
and then grieve ever after
in somber disillusion
Some people know
how to excel
by crying 'wolf'
when all around
are only sheep
easily frightened
into trustful obligation
Some people build their lives
with shocking frankness
on the patience
of their fellow beings
claim for themselves
what they would not
concede to others
Some people!
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
How I wish I could grow up.
The lines I perceive as mature understanding.
Crumble under their critical eyes.
And they are right: no lies,
Justice is not in my favour.
How I wish I could grow up.
Be sophisticated, beautiful, kind.
Upright, strong willed, as she is.
But I am I, in my awkward grace,
And it is not to be.
How I wish I were alive.
Immune to frivolous banter of all sorts,
Breathing in the air of each moment I live,
Sharing everything I have to give,
Laughing, crying, hurting wholeheartedly.
How I wish I were memorable.
The girl who helped us all, our friend.
She’s within reach, yet in an unchanging abyss,
I’m almost there, but I always miss
Her; Standing in front of the mirror.
How I wish I had control.
Over my emotions, my thoughts,
Insecurities, fears, doubts, concerns,
And on my heart, every little burn,
To be able to resist temptation.
How I wish I was understood.
Scouring eyes would find me, inside.
Solve the puzzle; fix it;
The pieces, together, a perfect fit;
And it would be duly appreciated.
How I wish I could grow up.
Move with integrity, honesty, frankness,
A fiery mix of pain, friendship and love.
Ravishing; stunning; exquisite;
And the phoenix would rise from the ashes.
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 8:53 PM UTC
I knew I had to do it
I knew I had to call her
And ask her out.
But I was nervous
And so
To calm myself down
And buld myself up
I went to the fridge
And got myself a beer.
I'm not usually a big drinker
But I gulped it down
Quickly
And it did the trick.
Suddenly
I felt as if I could do anything
And so I picked up the phone
And dialled.
It rang
She answered
And then
My words
All the ones I'd wanted to say
For so long
Just tumbled out.
I'd done it!
I'd actually, finally done it!
But
...She said no.
I'm still not sure why.
Was it my eagerness?
Was it my frankness?
Or,
Could it possibly have been
My hiccups?
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 5:47 PM UTC
"I still love you"
How dare you tell me something like that
I could actually believe you
I see you eyeing the lit cigarette in my mouth
Wanting to either take it from my possession and smoke it yourself
Or throw it into the lake in front of us and watch it drown with your deception
This cigarette tastes just like your kisses used to
I don't know if that's good or bad
I always did fancy a good old fashioned poison
In the form of love
I still haven't said a word
You repeat yourself
"I still love you"
I see you trying to look me in the eyes for some sort of reciprocation
You'll never hear me tell you that I still love you too
Even if I do
"You have a girlfriend to love"
Your jaw clenches
You have no reason to be agitated
You brought this on yourself
"But I love you more"
"But you still love her"
You are silent
I throw my finished cigarette into the lake in front of us
I stand up
Dust off my bewilderment
And walk away
The wind barely catches my whisper as I walk
"I still love you too"
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC
I’ve reached a roadblock
in this punch-drunk--
The exhilarated semblance
of warm-color happiness
is peeled back
like the layers of an onion
to reveal raw, pungent inexperience
sincere in frankness,
yet clumsy in approach
The blurred lines of
tender affection
and pious adulation--
The muddy waters of
passionate attachment
and fiery dominion--
A foolish game
for a foolish girl.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 12:45 PM UTC
I
If I could, like a switchboard, dark my heart,
Flip the levers one by one inside my mind,
And watch the stillness creep forth part by part
Painting my scalding senses sweetly blind,
I think that I could live without my lungs.
Pass each day the faded spaces on my walls
Where portraits of my heart's desires hung,
And peeled away, powdered to dust within their fall.
I think I'd like to be an empty house,
My loves all dark and cool and draped in sheets,
And cobwebs strung across my hopes and vows,
The dust in drifts, the solitude complete.
If I could turn away my love and flee,
I would be tempted, for perhaps then I would be free.
II
The burning embers of my love would dim,
And my eyes like empty windows dark would yawn,
And nobody could hurt me on a whim,
My defeat and fear and shame all dead and gone.
And footsteps in my empty rooms would echo
Murmuring the strife and longing past,
And all this complex, painful ecstasy would go,
And I would sigh, able to breathe at last.
Perhaps I would forsake my yearning soul
And give up all my wild joy for blankness.
Stop reaching, always striving to be whole,
And strip away my passion and my frankness
And in relinquishing my quest to get it back,
Forget to miss the passion that I lack.
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 8:22 PM UTC
Some people are unreasonable,
illogical, miserable, self centered,
egotistical, liars, and vain
and some are insane
and don't even know it,
love them anyway.
If you do good people
will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives,
and will not acknowledge you
or thank you
for what you did for them,
do good anyway.
If you are successful
you will make false friends
and true enemies and jealously
will surround them,
succeed anyway.
The good you do today
will be forgotten tomorrow
and that will cause you much sorrow,
do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness
make you vulnerable and will cause
you to lose many 'friends',
be honest and frank
anyway.
What you spend years building
and working to achieve
may be destroyed
and be gone in the blink of an eye
and don't worry
you won't die if
all they could do is
cheat on you and lie,
build anyway.
Sometimes people will
really need your help but
will attack you if you
try to give them that help,
help people anyway.
Give the World
the best you have
and you will
get kicked in the teeth but
it's all right ,
give the World the best
that you have
anyway. Jon York 2012
Apr 13, 2012
Apr 13, 2012 at 6:00 PM UTC
Goodbye struggle, I need you no more
The chains all unchained from hooks in the floor
Outside ether life ignites through evermore
While I mingle with lovers and tangle with ******
Goodbye sorrow, I have broken free from you now
Pieces of bottles, glass shards, rocket across the ground
Freedom breathes like a bellows open in sound
I am life, I am hunger, I a man about town
Goodnight to my fear, resting amongst dreams
It claws in the darkness while it ***** and it screams
The cream of the cosmos is thick in my bowl
Let it create me a new body, filled with perfect round holes
Goodbye my sweet struggle, at least for a while
I see you still in the corners of ever sweet woman's smile
Beguile my frankness and send me to bed
With the hard thoughts of tomorrow ricocheting around in my head
For tonight I have freedom, tho nothing doth last
Again there will be chains, sorrow, and glass
When this future grows old into some distant bright past
Goodbye struggle, for now, I know you will be back
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 10:24 AM UTC
There is peace
Where there is trust
Honesty and frankness
Of knowing what you're dealing with
And who you really are
There is comfort in relaxing
And letting down defenses
You can hear it in the laughter
As you gaze up at the stars
There is healing
With acceptance
There is freedom with forgiveness
A lightened heart of joy
And pain that fades away
There is hope
And new beginnings
Salvation in its glory
When faith gives birth to promise
And you step into that day
Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 3:04 PM UTC