"grasps" poems
Even in the darkest of the night,
I can still remember those lips finding their way towards mine.
We can barely see what's in front of us,
But yet our bodies are gravitating towards each other.
I'll let you guide my body into the night.
The darkness brings us together.
The darkness holds no fear.
The darkness conceals all flaws.
As the sun begins to slowly creep against the horizon,
He quietly leaves the sanctuary of her heart.
As the seconds of the morning sun ticks by,
He gradually becomes nothing but a dream of her imagination.
The light grasps the truth.
The light enhances the shame.
The light shows the scars.
I can still feel your warmth tingling against my skin.
It's time to wake up.
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 1:58 AM UTC
The horror, the rain,
The misery, the pain.
The factors of teenagehood
And its ghostly being.
From nasty rivalry,
The silver teardrops quench the
Hunger of discaring boys.
They move on to their next victim.
Words like love, hate, *****
Are thrown around and toyed with.
Teenage socialism is a witch,
Sweeping misery across the generation.
Heartbreaking, the look in their eyes,
Well up with tears, victims to lies.
Teenagehood, it grasps you
By its crooked claws.
From your peace, it rips apart
Your soul and leaves damage in its trail.
Why do we have to suffer?
Why can’t we return to the world?
The world we loved and cherished.
Toys and songs, now perished.
Puberty, hatred, fear,
They all add up to one phase in life.
With its treacherous fangs.
Hurt from distrust brings misery near.
With sympathy to all,
For a long journey ahead.
Hold on to your sanity,
For the reason you have previously read.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
Man, proud man.
Dressed in a little brief authority over someone else's tasks,
Most ignorant of what he is most assured,
His brief evanescence, ever evading the desperate futile grasps,
In life the things we buy won't keep,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As to make the angels weep.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
The anguish in this alienating aloneness is alarmingly enlightening
I am aware as the colors of my aura
fade from vibrant to mute
A spiraling sense of self grasps at false promises of hope or help
Each face that shows itself as an ally is simply mirage or ghost
Or wisps of nothingness I probably hallucinated to cope
I am an anchor in a rushing tide
Life floods by with no more than a glance over the shoulder
Some collide from behind urging me to move on, frustrated when I don’t align with their idea of time
I need to be unapologetically ‘not ok’
Imagine my electric shock when I find that’s not an option
The anguish in this alienating aloneness is alarmingly enlightening
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 2:56 PM UTC
I. Neptune’s Theater
A rock spins through the universal tumbler
and its warm blue pools calcify
as turquoise Neptune in his cloudy blue bath bath
builds a lace castle with his fingertips
Sculpts a submerged eden of crimson and emerald
where painted parrots chat up cardinals
butterfly and angel fry sway with wave pulse
and foliated coral fingers beckon from arched windows.
Neptune’s children are flat and bright, spined and notched
free yet entangled in lace mesh ecosystem
beneath an array of bioluminescent stars
as a gangly pretender watches and blows bubbles.
II. Sapien Siege
The hot acidic hand of death grasps
the mesh rends and tangles
the ecosystem shattered
reef’s loosed children scream beneath planet’s stars.
Butterflies impaled
cyanide-swooning damsels
mesh-tangled angels hauled heavenward
coral to potash, corpses to coal.
The pretender to the throne blinks
rubs blurry lenses,
kicks plastic fins
and moves on to the next show
Unseeing and unaware
of the luminous filament in his wake.
Self-appointed divinity,
deus ex machina.
*******************************************************************************************
Ann says: All of the animal and human characters in this poem (except Neptune and The Pretender) are named after coral reef fish. Coral reefs, one of the most diverse ecosystems, are expected to be largely extinct within one human generation. Deus ex machina is Latin for “God from the machine.”
Copyright 2013 by Ann Marcaida.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
Once again I can’t sleep
Death’s scythe grasps me
And the voices, the people
Inside my head they creep
They lurk in dark corners
Of the room, and my mind
I hide under disorders
From their malevolent bind
I know I can’t hide, for they see me when I’m there
Running is pointless, they’re with me everywhere.
Quitting is sole escape, from pain and sorrow;
The life once mine, is one I daily borrow.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
SLOWLY the Moon her banderoles of light
Unfurls upon the sky; her fingers drip
Pale, silvery tides; her armoured warriors
Leave Day's bright tents of azure and of gold,
Wherein they hid them, and in silence flock
Upon the solemn battlefield of Night
To try great issues with the blind old king,
The Titan Darkness, who great Pharoah fought
With groping hands, and conquered for a span.
The starry hosts with silver lances *****
The scarlet fringes of the tents of Day,
And turn their crystal shields upon their *******
And point their radiant lances, and so wait
The stirring of the giant in his caves.
The solitary hills send long, sad sighs
As the blind Titan grasps their locks of pine
And trembling larch to drag him toward the sky,
That his wild-seeking hands may clutch the Moon
From her war-chariot, scythed and wheeled with light,
Crush bright-mailed stars, and so, a sightless king,
Reign in black desolation! Low-set vales
Weep under the black hollow of his foot,
While sobs the sea beneath his lashing hair
Of rolling mists, which, strong as iron cords,
Twine round tall masts and drag them to the reefs.
Swifter rolls up Astarte's light-scythed car;
Dense rise the jewelled lances, groves of light;
Red flouts Mars' banner in the voiceless war
(The mightiest combat is the tongueless one);
The silvery dartings of the lances *****
His fingers from the mountains, catch his locks
And toss them in black fragments to the winds,
Pierce the vast hollow of his misty foot,
Level their diamond tips against his breast,
And force him down to lair within his pit
And thro' its chinks ****** down his groping hands
To quicken Hell with horror-for the strength
That is not of the Heavens is of Hell.
8.3k
the desert heat surrounds me
my mind slowly baking
for the moment i am free
my mortal vessel aching
as my soul grasps at fatal misconceptions
a mystic door left ajar
locked in a state of introspection
i stare into myself from afar
all these colors all these things
what do they mean
to mirages we cling
a cryptic reality remains unseen
passed off as a silly whim of youth
neither tears of woe nor tears of bliss
these are the tears of truth
brought by knowledge's sweet kiss
ask me not why i cry
ask yourself "how too may i?"
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
Who knew the soft breeze
Was merely a tease
And sunrise a false fire,
The waters once calmer
Inviting and promised
A siren’s calling horror.
Quiet Lake a liar,
liar.
My God has watched the wind turn and many a son die, though I did not pay attention to deaths jealous eye.
The shock grasps and pulls until you know its true,
The best of us was taken
And I was left to you
The shadow on his chin in that early golden glow,
stuck inside the tent I did not know.
That the paddle of their canoe through the calm breeze would be
the last I’d see--
Island time clocks slow like a grief as it grows and regret in often company.
Who gives a **** island was stretched from shore to shore,
Divided by that cold wet demon
A womb of lost children, a watery graveyard.
All for smoke and fire they paddled their canoe
One beached on land like a salty sailor
The other exiled to hells blue.
The tragedy—whose heart weighted in gold left my copper soul rusted, the brakeman sold the purest human I’d known and grief clocks slow when you keep waiting for his body to surface.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 11:59 PM UTC
Sunlight makes its move beyond the safe Clouds.
Clouds finally let the Sunlight go free.
Sunlight reaches toward the awaiting greenery.
Clouds hesitate to question its judgment.
Sunlight grasps the hands of Earth.
Clouds spy on Sunlight's careful movements.
Sunlight heats the world in a clear embrace.
Clouds meander further away in hiding.
Sunlight ignites passion within the plants.
Clouds rely on an evaporation vice.
Sunlight relaxes in the west, pleased.
Clouds find solace in the salty air.
Sunlight wakes up to the smiling blossoms.
Clouds glare from a distance.
Sunlight gazes at its new abundance of fruit.
Clouds long for a sweet release.
Sunlight notices its once dear lover.
Clouds acknowledge Sunlight's attention.
Sunlight begins to scorch the ground.
Clouds play upon the mountains.
Sunlight angers at the coyness.
Clouds laugh at the needy air.
Sunlight intensifies to torch the trees.
Clouds begin to realize the desire.
Sunlight glances in the direction of its hope.
Clouds gather up courage to make its move.
Sunlight begs for saturated fulfillment.
Clouds glide toward Sunlight in sweet surrender.
Sunlight kisses its precious love.
Clouds cherish its tender caress.
Sunlight probes its worth by revealing true emotion.
Clouds relinquish control and release the passion.
Sunlight holds the clouds so dearly.
Clouds feel peace letting loose all emotion.
Sunlight stares amazed at the Clouds.
Clouds feel the warmth of Sunlight.
Sunlight makes its move beyond the safe Clouds.
Clouds yet again let the Sunlight go free.
Earth can't survive without this temperamental love affair.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
Bodies moved and liquor spilled
Hands got up and all felt good
Music created a flow and rhythm became nourishment
Five senses became three
Lovers were formed and lovers were lost
Tears fell and mixed with the liquor
Injuries occurred
Enemies were made...
Bodies still moved and liquor spilled
Hearts were broken and hearts were delighted
Curves appealed to the eyes and grasps occurred
Smiles became kisses and
Kisses became conductors of emotions and desires
*** resulted and smiles occurred...
Bodies moved and liquor spilled
They all went home and memories were erased
-Conscious
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
Listen
I know I'm not
What most would see to be sane
But you see
I don't see
How faking a love of romance and passion
And beautiful things
Can truly be so bad
If it's the only way he'll stay
Best Friend of my universe
The only person
I couldn't imagine a world without
When he laughed
And then nearly cried
"I don't love you anymore"
I saw the pools of hurt arise
I knew right then his words, all lies
And knew that this was my last
Chance
To keep him in my life
And as I'm selfishly afraid
Of being alone again
I took it
"I was afraid"
I swallow my self loathing away
"Because I love you"
The hope swells, he smiles wide
Laughing, he grabs my hands
"I knew you loved me"
Pang, I shut off my emotions
As he grasps my *******
And slobbers his lips on my own
Boom, my head beats in disgust
Goosebumps rising in panic
My every nerve ending wanting to run
I smile at him when he says
"Tell me you love me"
I feel bile rise, why do I do this?
Is flinging my clothes to the floor
As he leads me to my bed
The necessity to keep my last Friend?
**** why do I do this
Again and again?
Self destruction behavior, big surprise
Right?
But I swear I've never stooped so low
But I've never felt so alone
But I can't recall loving a man
But I've never rejected lust
But with him the touch is rough
But now I'm 3 months pregnant
But it's with a person I choose
But he thinks all this touching is normal
But I can't seem to ever say no
"I love you too"
I refuse to loose you my friend
Not ever again
No matter the cost
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
The dragon looms before him
With waiting wanting jaws
And with its talon-ed fingertips
It grasps him in its claws.
Together forever, blissfully
They soar up and away
He doesn't know he's falling
As the dragon flies away
And every time he hits the ground
And gasps in disbelief
The pain drags on until the dragon
Offers him relief
One day, wings will carry you
Beyond what you can take
Those soothing claws will let you fall
And crush you when you break.
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
Samhain's Eve With Friends
The Lady's light is ripe and full and orange
so heavy the sky can scarce bear her up
as I tread slowly tap tap my staff clicks
my feet in their hurry crush sweet maple and acrid fir underfoot
and the early evening mist grasps at bare tree limbs like heart broken suiters
It's an early celabration Samhain Eve
No Matter
tis me alone and of course The Lady
Slowly I find my stone grove and rest a bit ... price of a Crone
No musicians tonight
Ah the tape will do well enough
No Sisters tonight
too far to come obligations trick or treat ...
No Matter
Circle swept and Caste,Quarters called
next all in turn music soft but building
insence sweet shrouds me
Fire my element crackles and spits with blessed heat
Time to steppe the Circle
This Dance I know so well
This Dance I have taught and danced and dreamt it always
Eyes Closed Cleansing Breathe
Bells on wrist and ankles chime
Now swaying stepping Luna's great course across the sky
once this way next reverse
slowly gently all recedes
there is nothing now but
me and She
She Morghanna Isis Gaia Mother Maiden Crone
My Lady
The flute is faint and hard to hear now
but the drum is strong heartbeat strong slow and deep
suddenly there are voices far yet whysper close
so soft full of laughter and secrets
..ghostly hands Sisters past, lost to me and spirits new entwine with mine and voices long forgotten soar
So Sweet
and my feet so clumsy and slow seem to fly and I hear the flute in the chime of Her laughter
She Has Come
Welcome My Lady
I hear nothing now but the drum and the rush of the wind through my hair
The Drum The Sisters The Fire
and My Lady
Suddenly my step slows no longer is it sure
aware of the stones beaneath and my hand blest but a moment ago now feels the loss of my Sisters grasp
but we are never far from one another
no matter the side of the veil
I tire and stop
the night has waned
the tape has stopped..when I cant recall
Never Mind
Close the quarters with thanks
Sever the Circle
Douse the smudge
and
Thank The Lady for a
Samhain's Eve , with friends
Solita Arcanes ShadoeWalker 31/10/10
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 2:50 PM UTC
i admit to 'male' --
'female' strikes me low
curving
concupiscent hips (of Venus swaying so)
the one who places,
caught bathing in her morph
to mar
her goddess innocence (Peleus grasps her so)
her evergreen paradise-
apple spraying scruples,
while the sun
dries forgiveness **** (on Eve's fragrant *******
in other Edens
Lilith simply leaves him blind
to lust
for unknown Didos (craving **** or suicide)
the limping god
nets love and war, olympicly
to smith
a mortal death (from Vulcan jealousy)
foresight's fire-gift
leaps obedience
to lie
far falls the divine (in ******* he defied)
potent swan of sky,
what judgement?
for a girl
you laid in that white rush, (virginity unfurled)
immortal ****
fates sails of progeny,
raging
poet-birthing strife (for temple priestess' cries)
fated nation-death swoons,
shares beauty's scale,
and Aphrodite's foam (caresses history's thighs)
Trojan tensions mix
the modern mind to heights of doubt
of mythopoets' truth ( -yielding blindnesses)
lonely walk the earth
with guiding wisdom lacking
all the pawns of fate (forget love's darknesses)
sphinxine hunger asks
the soul of destiny
of hubris, tragic sight (and orgiastic nights)
of unknown woman
man struck down
sickly city safe
and burning, yearning (nymph and satyr sating Bacchic rites)
Jun 26, 2012
Jun 26, 2012 at 8:56 PM UTC
In the twilight night
That casts shadows to the day
The cold creeps at the October edges of my single pane windows,
And seeps into my cheaply heated home with newspaper insulation
It catches my toes, and walks up my white hands and grabs my face and nose
The cold grasps firm and goes deep
And in the chilly dieing light
I found a picture of you laughing, tucked into a book I was going to give you
Suddenly I am dragged back to the moment when I fell in love with your soft native eyes.
And your freckled cheeks drawn in an eternal smile
I loved your black hair and your carefree way
The cold is not cold enough for this,
I open a window and the back door.
I finish my drink to the whiskey sharp bottom,
I cast off my blanket and sit as wind comes in.
The cold is not yet cold enough
I add ice and ***** to my glass
Hoping for Russian absolution
But in the freezing flesh core of my sad meat suit,
As the temperature drops to negative numbers
My stupid heart still beats for you
And the cold is not cold enough for this.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
Ripples running away from me
disturbing the cool water around.
My splash is heard by the trees and the birds
But by none who can offer help.
At first I panic, thrash madly,
as a thrush flutters on the breeze.
More waves are caused by the actions
But still I flap and scream.
Not a soul can hear me;
the woods are a wilderness, deserted.
Everything hidden by the low dense cloud,
It stops my sight short and muffles my voice.
So I wait drifting with the current
no longer reaching for a hold,
Confident I’ll be found and saved
Dried out and sent home happy.
The minutes soon become hours though
and still there is no help.
I give up counting depressing time.
I don’t want to know how long.
My skin starts to wrinkle with wetness
like a dried fruit in a plastic bag;
My nails soften in the water
But still trap **** and other life.
My faith in human nature
starts to fade and recede.
I try calling out once more
A strange fear forcing the action
I now grab, frantic, at anything in reach
Losing what little strength's left
And the weight of the water in my clothes
And body is dragging me down.
Finally I realise what’s happening to me
is I am sinking, drowning - and fast.
I am dying and there is nothing
I can do myself to stop it.
Inevitable, unpreventable death that I
now accept as being my destiny,
I close my eyes and try to help
By thinking heavy thoughts.
Running over in my head all the reasons
why it may be better this way -
As death is certain this is academic
But strangely seems to help.
If one can find the good in Death
it’s not so unattractive.
I no longer worry, I am resigned
It is my choice to die.
So I just lie back and wait for
embrace even my forthcoming Death
And then I hear a sound prayed for weeks ago
But dreaded and hated as I am now
Footsteps coming towards me that I try to ignore
(and ignore their voices too)
And a hand reaches for me, grasps mine
They think I should be happy to be saved
But they cannot see I don’t want to be saved
from the Death I was so close to and wanted.
I welcomed it, I willed it, to
Come and release me from the pain
Now I am safe I must endure once more
the suffering, and accept Death again.
So here I am alive and well
Trapped in the prison of life.
Aug 24, 2011
Aug 24, 2011 at 6:31 AM UTC
The lonely notes flowing, falling, leap from
The thin and flitting fingers of the pianist,
The cup of melancholy, drained to the
dregs, bittersweet in that the love of happiness
and joy is tempered now, from longing for the
delicate and pensive feel, that comes from dipping into
the small and lonely pool of melancholy. Grief, a distant
specter, hovering in the fringe of chance, is nearer now,
melancholy, the doorway, slides open on silent hinges,
and admits the crushing tide. High, high, and faster still,
the pianist falls, slowly down and up again, grief, the storm,
disrupts the flow of sound and silence, and incorporates itself
into the threading melody, and so erodes the shores of joy and laughter,
the violet waves of gentle melancholy, laced with the thinnest threads of
blackest grief, sighing on, erasing so, youth and joy and light and life.
The melody falters, stills. The pianist alone, playing for an empty quiet,
rises, pauses, his fingers brushing, the cold steel of empty death, smooth beneath his touch. He grasps it, lifts it to face him, hands steady, gaze unfaltering. The man is still, pianists fingers gripping that instrument of death, and time passes, unheeded, ignored. In a motion refined to elegance by the passage of time and repetition, the pianist places that cold instrument of steel and intent gently, down upon the polished black. He straitens, slowly, and settling his black overcoat close around him, he turns, walks quietly to a closed and silent door, lifts the latch, and into a swirling night of snow and light, walks out, and closes the door behind him with a soft and quiet click. And all is silent.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 8:38 PM UTC
Pain grasps around your chest
digging in as you take a breath
you try to swim but you feel weak
so you sink into the deep
the deep, where light is dim
and all because you couldn't swim
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC
Oh simplicity how you reach out to my closed arms
in fear of how simple it may be to be happy
Without worldly posessions in grasps of their needy hands
I've never felt so at peace as the trade winds sweep my hair on delicate sunsets of May
where red wine makes me lush but aware...
of the magnificence of this moment, here, now.
The geese migrate, I seperate from the man made sounds of the city
although the connect the dots of street lights seem to guide me
The shifting landscape
the shifted skew of my life
five years ago I wouldn't have guessed this far
The time is so simple, slow-moving, sweet
I can almost feel the heart beat of excitement
or the beat within my youthful feet.
The railroad still gleams at dusk
as does the lake shine
as does the hidden blackbirds and blossoms of springtime.
I now spend here alone as I did when I was young
troubled, I would run.... to the same spot
and watch the same sun as it shone
day became night
the stars endless candle light
Now I'd ponder for hours
leave here smittin
relieved by the gift of life
I often forgot how precious simplicity is as I rush through the day...
But why can't we just lay back in silence
wallow in what is...
ponder like a little child of what may be out in the universe
I lay here now, alone
Spell bound by what I see
an array of colourful hues and natures generosity
I wish you were here with me
Smoke plumes heave as I exhale through these lungs
This place of mine, timeless
memories still live here
I've come to remember all I have known
and the simplicity of happiness still flourishes here
just got to stop and wallow...
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 1:24 AM UTC
The deep sighs of fall
send chills across the daisies.
My compass is sick
and there’s a sense of urgency in my eyelashes,
feeling around for the blisters on my skin
searching for a bed to sleep.
Facets of sleep
encourage the rain to fall,
cold weather raising capillaries under my skin.
I wrote the history of the Holocene era on daisies,
microscope lenses tickling my eyelashes;
dim lighting makes me home sick.
My mind is sick,
I dream of oceans in my sleep,
medicine labels printed on my eyelashes
pill bottles coloured like fall.
Tattoos of purple fringed daisies
cover my shoulders like skin.
Teeth full of apple skin;
asking God how not to be sick,
wondering if a sacrifice of daisies
will get my blood to sleep.
My hair is like the leaves during fall;
I hope I get to keep my eyelashes.
There’s snow in my eyelashes,
landscapes of frost form on skin
the cold air begins to fall,
I decide to call in sick
preferring to hide in a hot sleep
until my breaths sprout purple daisies.
How to grow Gerber daisies,
without losing my eyelashes?
My fingernails are full of sleep,
hot tea grasps at my paper skin.
The panacea for the sick
is a perfect concentration of wool sweaters and fall.
You eat daisies in the fever of fall.
Through my eyelashes I am morally sick,
but yesterday I finally let sleep settle into my skin.
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
~for the one who will know it was written for her~
muddy verb and adjective,
muddling and muddled
have you ever seen a pas de deux/deluxe,
one dancer, proscriptive,
and her partner, prescriptive?
the stage, of course,
exactly the width of your head,
from ear to shining ear
this couple o’muses dance en concert,
though their very natures are anti-logarithmic,
the value of their exponential activity is a
descriptive nomenclature
I am overly abstruse this Saturday morn,
mushing mathematics and ballet, verbal word games
as is my wont wanted,
everyone sleeping while I rise at 6am,
doing ablutions, seeking absolution,
pulling weeds from our respective gardens,
answering old friends I have yet to meet,
to whom I answer,
“still here, though long time no see,”
which is of course hysterical funny, inherently contradictory,
as the brain grasps well my
Red and Dead Sea brain cells, a splitting motif
muddling and muddled,
proscribed from getting on transport,
to deliver to you the proper healing prescriptive,
as if I had in my possess to diagnosis and correctly assess
even though one of my many passport names,
a requirement, to visit,
this inter-netting ether, that both combines and separates,
permits me safe passage,
over the historical lineage of borderlines of land and sea,
to deliver this message,
to you
woman
*I am here, waiting patiently, though long time
no see
like ever,
absentia, dementia,
both self-censure:
here, then, my cadenza,
dedicated solely soulfully for you,
as the sabbath sun rises over the East River,
saying, laughing unto me,
“still here, though long time no see,”
for though I cannot look upon her,
my sun, my sun, my son,
yet she, as well,
is everywhere-inside of me,
warmly illuminating
my muddled mind*
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 7:57 AM UTC
MAE HIRAETH ARNA AMDANOT
( THERE'S LONELINESS ON ME FOR YOU )
Her shadow is
laughing.
Her shadow is
taller than a tree.
She is a key
for which there is
no door
a Polaroid photograph
dying in the sun
( fading into the nothing
from which it comes ).
My mind slashes through time
grasps this memory
of her
clutches it to itself
until once again Death
orders it to
. . .let go.
It...does so.
Her shadow
laughing.
Her shadow
taller than a tree.
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC