"grayest" poems
1063
Ashes denote that Fire was—
Revere the Grayest Pile
For the Departed Creature’s sake
That hovered there awhile—
Fire exists the first in light
And then consolidates
Only the Chemist can disclose
Into what Carbonates.
4.2k
You've become the vine
that creeps
up
the side
of my brick encased dwelling,
breaching every
crack
and
imperfection
you've stumbled across,
managed to conceal them,
and make them presentable.
You've overtaken an entire wall;
teal
and lavender
petals,
like crayon shavings,
scattered
against their dark background,
bringing with them
the color
my house
so desperately needed.
Now,
when friends and onlookers
pass by,
they see this great green and brick
marvel,
covered in leaves,
and petals,
and vines
that stretch from every awning,
down to the cement blocks
of the basement.
We have all the neighbors
whispering about
how your greens
compliment my reds
and how bright your flowers
bloom,
even on the grayest
of mornings,
so that everyone
is in envy
of what they see.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 9:43 AM UTC
Dripdrop dripdrop
The umbrella on the drops makes a tiniest splattering
Of collected shades of transparency: Memory
And the whitenoise of the rain
(step step splatter ripple)
Serve to recolour in sepia shades
Even the grayest seconds
of Yesteryear’s faces and embraces.
(Drip
drop
drip
Drop)
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 5:34 AM UTC
Were all just machines, bound for the train station that’ll hightail us out and over
To the junkyard where we never sleep and the foundry melts us down to make room
For the new undead, but non-living, to starve for what their computers say they need.
But when you smile, your eyes show me that you have a soul inside that’s beautiful,
And it proves my heart is something more than what the factory made it for;
That my love means something more than a series of chemical reactions in my brain,
That the mornings and nights we spent were worth more than we ever knew,
And that you are someone more special to me than I have ever known.
So, as we fly down the track of grayest metals and coldest weather, into the north country
To God knows where to as the sun is at dawn and dusk at the same time,
Remember that your heart doesn’t need to be held like coal, that your eyes are soulful,
That someone, somewhere thinks you’re more than a piece of electric meat,
That I think you’re worth more than my life,—my holy hunk of steel—but don’t let that
Get to your head missy! And that when we’re laid upon the cutting board
To be scraped and melted down, I want to be laid there next to you
To kiss you one more time, while I look into your eyes, searchingly.
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
He's held for us a shy court,
In the continuity of my world.
Where time under anesthesia
First feels the cold of my shoulder,
While still showing a vague interest
In what he makes of the sordid elements
I've deposited at his feet.
Until his acting as what I've presented
Has perfected his imperfections.
His unwrapping this horror
Has lost the only bookmark
I'd destined to hold the significance of your laughter.
'This object is worthless'
He laughs, and then asks,
'Is it the grayest of ugly gifts?'
I reckon it is,
But remain stoic.
Not too unlike this damage now done.
My picking up these pieces
Of his paper misery
Reveals where the torn of his envelope
Has concealed the light of my gesture.
The key hides elsewhere tho',
On the shores of love.
A once deplorable trinket,
It now derives to hold the heart
Of my oldest fable.
So I destroy it without regret.
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
With you by my side,
even the grayest day is full of light.
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 10:17 AM UTC
Distilled concourse, the deep black sheep of space itself...
pin-pricked with breathing holes that burst light.
Everything lives inside its head...stars, star as proof
positive of other mentation.
Serenade their indelible station with Unknowing-Knowing...
mantric mothering.
Victors of the immaterial thumbtacking grayest matter.
Unshaken eyes cast for seership...voids swath and drown
in trying to connect them.
There you are...a starry entelechy...revelatory
inky night lo Light, showering your outer eyes instantaneously.
Beaming up an effigy of your earthly clay--encasing you in
the experimental color coursing a bubble greater than
a galaxy.
A supernova radiating your inner eyes.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 2:33 PM UTC
This truest love, triumphantly
is a bird of prey
marauding 'twain these grayest skies and tenured gain
dine with blessed distinction,
feathered queen!
And any mice caught in between-
For does my love in summer's rain
prey on the solace of my nightly dreams
Do gauge my love as span of wings
the distance 'tween each finger
Her wings are spread and through the sky
she soars in arcs and swirls
Each and every blissless night,
she passes coyly o'erhead,
The curtain in my blood unfurls
and this presence ever lingers-
Perched aloof and tauntingly in a bending oak
she says: "These stars that hover
above the sky I disbelieve-
Their palaver, quaint and lasting,
I disbelieve-
They grip and guide my flutters as an ever-tightn'ng yoke."
Each hand I place o'er the other,
'til each branch is a rung, ladder to the moon.
Said: "And coldly does this horrib' moon smile,
she laughs 'til my tail is the dust
each stroke of hours and minutes speak to me
this cunning moon pours in our hearts this lust-
How could these shambles any trust?"
This sky, though blacken'd,
cannot rend apart what's happened,
and all it sees with terrible eyes
can prevent not this love fore'er mend-
She glode politely out o' reach,
To soar delightly by me-
Said: "I see the jilted morning glory
bowing to the moon.
Each stalk twines traitoriously
a capsulating swoon-
Each fruit it bears bequeathes 'nto me
callous forms of elliptic bracts,
eats as nothing more than flax-"
For every morning glory's betray'l
I'll harvest ten thousand Orchids from the meadow's fringe,
plucked from the margins of the bog-
This love is not a passing arc
that follows does that jealous moon-
I'll trek the acid, foy an' dinge,
and, if those mice do not erstwhile dine on this orchid's seeds,
that which lays dormant, 'neath the leaves
will send up freshly blooming stalks.
May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
The velvet moon sprung a tide
Crashing towards the wrecked shore
Of wretched dreams and perplexed hearts.
The sand of grayest melancholy
Veils a secrecy of lies
In an ocean of saddening truth.
The sky cried out in vain
Pouring wisest drops of rain
Towards both the tide and sand
And mingled them as one
Towards the crimson sky of dawn.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 8:58 AM UTC
When my eyes first opened for the world
With my cries aloud and my body curled
Her bright smile put the sun to shame
And her warm embrace was the one to tame.
Through the wounds I get when I stumble down
And the tears I shed when I feel a clown
She would come running in the barest feet
And try to save me from my drowning fleet.
At times we get ourselves in a fight
And we cuss and fuss with all our might
But when our hate and rage finally subside
We would smile and swallow up our pride.
She knows me better than I know myself
And my monsters lurking behind the shelf
She’s got the best medicine I've ever known
To every sickness that my body had sown.
Her wrinkles are her boldest legacy
For the love and care she gave to me
That I can’t help but give back in return
A promise that I have tirelessly sworn.
Let the earth devour our bodies weak
Crush our brittle bones in the grayest bricks
Still my heart and soul will always remember
That I have the world’s greatest mother!
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 12:38 AM UTC
a for the anxiety that burns in my heart
b for the brutality of your words
c for the chances you never take
d for every door you kept close
e for the efforts i've wasted on you
f for the freedom we locked up in cages
g for the gardens that grow weeds
h for the hands that grasp at hope
i for the illusions of this world
j for the jars we keep our hearts in
k for the kisses you pressed to my jaw
l for the laundry you left on my floor
m for the memories that refuse to fade
n for the nostalgia that haunts my dreams
o for the onslaught of grayest rain
p for the parachutes we forgot when we jumped
q for the questions that don't have answers
r for the rebels in us who will never die
s for the satellites we resemble too much
t for the trains we could never catch up
u for the umbrellas that are broken and torn
v for the vengeance we shouldn't seek
w for the winters that never end
x for the false Xs they drew on maps
y for the years that pass like days
and
z for zilch interest, the interest you never had in me
- - -
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
Magnetism:
It is in the compass you hold
A pointed needle pointing to the direction your heart seek
Whether it is to the North, East, West or to the South part of the world
It will help you find your desired destination
when the Sun refuses to shine under the grayest sky
when the clouds hid the North star tonight
when you lost your way, scared in the midst of the forest
or when you gone astry floating in the Caribbean sea
Somehow with this simple mechanism
guides you to the place you belong, somewhere you'll call your home.
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:37 PM UTC
If you knew anything about her
you'd wouldn't have bought her flowers.
You'd know that she hates them except for when they die
because everything looks more beautiful when it's asleep.
If you had the slightest clue
as to who she is
you'd have played her Zelda's lullaby instead
on the instrument you've probably never even heard of.
You'd know that you could never understand her unless you learned to read her eyes.
You'd learn that even the grayest clouds have a silver lining
but you could never appreciate the beauty
of the way she looks as she reads a letter
or the way she walks away.
You could never admire her
a fraction of the way that I do
because I care so much about her that
this poem was already written on my heart
the day I first saw her.
-k.d.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 6:04 AM UTC
She sits on the stairwell outside,
in one of the grayest evenings
I’ve seen in a while.
The humidity is atrocious,
she’s breathing liquid air
Waiting,
but there she sits.
Ready for the guy she met In the dairy isle
to whisk her away to expensive pasta and wine.
She’s been outside a good half-hour
Waiting,
but there she sits.
Her slumped head in her knees
says she’s loosing patience
as she wipes away some tears of self-doubt.
I wonder why she doesn’t call the guy.
Waiting,
there she sits.
With each passing car
turning in the parking lot
we share the same thought,
hoping it’s him.
As each car picks up friends or parks
our hearts slump lower into our stomachs.
Jul 31, 2011
Jul 31, 2011 at 8:40 AM UTC
*I'll dance with the tornado
Go along its willful flow
Would you go right by my side?
Fly open and never hide?
The storms come, whether
anyone likes it or not
Maybe we'll get caught
Maybe we'll put up a fight
Win or even not quite
But I'll come with you in
lesser and in enough
Down to the impossible,
down to the rough
Calm is where you are
However high, however far
So I'll catch the stars
with my one hand
Our infinity has long been
written in the sand
Time fits in the curve
of your eyes
As your lips turn
to the grayest skies
I'll be the pedestal
you can lean unto
even if it was built by
only one
and not two*
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 6:48 AM UTC
It was quite a while
Since I wrote to you
I'll make up with a smile
And "how do you do?"
You see, I've been busy
Roaming round the streets
In this sleepless city
Of lies and deceits.
I longed for my pen
And my loot of ink
Missed going down my den
To write what I think.
But I have a story
I sure love to tell
A dash of honesty
It could ring a bell.
As I make my way
In this jungle of concrete
People live the day
With a dying spirit.
They tend for the future
And wake up tomorrow
Caged in a wicked culture
In the grayest limbo.
They don't sing the same
Nor dance the beat
They won't play the game
To warm their feet.
But the coldest truth
I've come to know
Is one to bear fruit
From a fear to grow.
Their hollow heart
Left the passion to write
Of how poems start
And end with might.
I'm stuck at a sea
Of wandering souls
A piece of humanity
In a thousand ghouls.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
The glass was full of hope and promise,
And drinking deep, I learned to live;
What twists and turns led me to linger?
Did not last but a moments glimpse.
I turned to see what weave we've woven,
Looked deep inside my heart and soul,
And every page that turned with reckless,
Abandonment of them too soon began.
What is this thing that life's about,
That keeps us slipping the slippery way?
If all our efforts filled some obscure book,
In the final analysis what did we say?
Before the day had dawned with beauty,
A life's beginning had middled away,
With soon the grayest of all the graydom,
Came marching us into the grave.
Sep 8, 2011
Sep 8, 2011 at 3:34 PM UTC
Colour me in your mind
Am I vermillion red
or prussian blue?
Maybe a mix of the two?
Or just a hue
Of simple forest green
No wait, aquamarine
like an underwater scene
Deep and darkness within
Yet maybe you enjoy shades
that are bright
and they look so
under the sunlight
But true colours show
only under the grayest skies
to the most observant eyes
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 12:37 PM UTC
It's that time of year again
When the sun rises late and sets
Just short of happy,
this northern climate
saps all heat from your bones
The soul itself shivers
In remembrance
I'm left to ponder winters past
Sadness and trauma surround
The residual cold, bringing memories of
The flicker of lighted trees
In most of their backgrounds
Inseparable from association.
And then the frigid season continues,
Taunting me with the grayest areas
Of the monument of all the levels
Of my self hatred,
But I've learned it's evr'y pattern,
So now I'm just jaded.
When the North wind picks up and carries
The smell of the fallen leaves death
To me, like a gift I knew I was going to get
Like when I was 9
and found all my presents
And the morning of Christmas
I had to mask all my disappointment
And act surprised
To know what's coming
Takes from the element
And gives way to boredom
An old friend, bittersweet greetings to my
Daydreams and it pulls me to the bed
And there I wait,
And wait,
And wait,
For the sunshine to come again.
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 2:16 PM UTC
Eternally, I'm yours
We only communicate through closed doors
Communication failure, what is left?
Anything to say? Another breath?
Will our love live to see another day?
Eternally, I'm grieving
I'm still broken
Having trouble believing
The words spoken
I gravitate towards you
Your beauty always radiates
Turn the grayest skies blue
And i cannot escape
...Even if i wanted to
Release me from this spell
Free me from this mental hell
How I'll never tell
Break me out of this shell
My personal demons are breeding
Spreading diseased thought
They're eating away my mind
I can't get out of these tangled knots
I lose myself in dreams
The closest to death i can get
With memories from a time long ago
With a pain I'll never forget
...If I can escape...If I could escape...
If you could find truth anywhere,
Let it be
In the words that expel from me
It's all i have left to give
It's all i have left to live
The colors are changing before my eyes
Turning red and orange under gray skies
As dull as life and as vibrant as death
I live on the thought of my last breath
The land is barren
Only the dead grow
Expanding indefinitely
In magnificent columns and rows
I'll take my rightful place among them
Not as a diamond in the rough
But an undiscovered gem
Oct 23, 2010
Oct 23, 2010 at 2:15 PM UTC
I want to feel stellar
I crave the feeling
of your skin
when I feel my worst
your fingers tracing
the profile of my hand
will make my grayest days
vibrant
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 3:03 AM UTC
The sight of you,
will always do,
your smile it fills my soul,
it takes away,
the grayest day,
it fills every void and hole.
I don't know why I'm frightened,
The days you end up gone.
I'm the only one to notice,
When my sun ain't there at dawn.
From secrets heard,
told from a bird,
I feel that I am losing.
I'll grip the streams,
and angry screams,
for you I'll take a bruisin'.
I thought that I could have you,
Keeps me here alive.
That there's no one here but us two,
Keeps my forward drive.
The thought of you,
is always nice,
In my mind I do percieve:
A person who,
is just so great,
that no one would believe.
It seems like I am shaking,
Not sure if I want to know.
If you are what I ache for,
Or if it was an illusion,
The fakest kind of glow.
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 12:29 PM UTC
I don't know if you want to be more than beneficial friends
I don't really want to pretend
I've been told you just want to hit
But I don't think I'd mind if you missed
I used to never go with it
Sometimes I wish I could go back again
I never imagined it as a kid
That I'd go through a *** phase and regret what I did
And subsequently, I'd be bringing bad boys with
Ones I thought I would marry and then we'd get rich
Everything has changed, I am not the same
Now you probably think I'm telling a myth
I cannot tell you a reason for this
Summer is bringing temptations
Maybe I'm selfish and just want ****
Remembering all the times I spent in boys' basements
I know that's not what I want
Wish I could be what you need
But I can't see through all of your fronts
I don't know what you're trying to be
I do not think that there would be a problem with us
I just think there is a problem with me
I don't know if I can handle guessing anymore
I'm not the go-to *** anymore
I'm not sure what you want to be
But I'm not what you think
This is way more emotional than I thought I would be
I'm not what I introduced myself to be
I promised myself to be honest with you
And I want to do this with more integrity
Can't help but think that I'm being played
If that's the case then just tell me
I am always prepared for the truth
I'm telling myself your friends are right
But should I trust your friends more than you
Now my heart is stuck in the grayest of areas
Thinking back to when your friends said not to trust you
Remembering when they warned me not to
Thinking about how we might go to a party
And I will be there confused about what to do
I still take heed at the first words about you
And I do not think there is a way of preparing us
For the inevitable or so it seems
When you get a job and I chase a college dream
Eventually, you'll find a girl much more pretty
Someone that's better that I could never be
You're a guy with smarts and muscles
I don't smoke much and I don't drink much liquor
I want to know what you want, but you telling me I don't figure
You'll find a better girl, like the one you are talking too
Who's body and conversation is probably better
I should be getting myself focused again
Sometimes it feels like I don't really know
I know that we started as beneficial friends
But that type of bond has room to grow
But I don't want to pretend
I don't know if I'd have the emotional control
I don't know if I can handle guessing anymore
I don't know if I can be that go-to *** anymore
Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 7:53 PM UTC
Knowing sadness,
It is easily done.
To live life in the grayest shade,
To have removed the pleasure of fun.
Anyone can see it,
As you lay your head down.
Surrendered to sorrow,
Sad songs are so renown.
Others will fire questions,
Though you assume they are far off.
Dart boards made of water,
Can never hold back the darts.
No idea what is wrong,
You swear you were smiling the whole time.
Why does everything feel so wrong,
What paused the song on which you rely?
May 14, 2012
May 14, 2012 at 9:38 PM UTC
It is in our nature to create dichotomies,
particularly in the grayest of the gray.
How do you debate en masse,
in the absence of either or?
And so we ask—
for example,
at Harper High School
in the South Side Chicago,
where 29 current and former
students
were shot
in a single year—
we ask, disdainfully,
How do we Learn
when we can’t Breathe?
On the question of need—
at a beautiful school
with 16 security guards
4 social workers,
and more than 15 surrounding gangs—
we refer back to Maslow.
I went once,
to a high school full of
“at risk” students
and discussed dropout rates—
as high as 80 percent in some parts.
We gave them cards and figures,
and asked them to contemplate futures,
for example,
as a janitor or an NBA basketball star!
Questions so self-righteous in their ignorance
my cheeks burned,
asked to faces
six generations descended
from slavery
& six decades from
Brown vs. Board.
Are we not awed by the
logic in their response
to a system with little
historical or contemporary
evidence of their success?
We are sustained more by the
business of answering,
than asking
the right questions.
So maybe the question of
basic needs versus pedagogy
was always a false dichotomy.
Maybe, in fact,
general revenue funding &
destandardization of curricula,
universal prenatal care &
a rebirth of the arts,
do not exist in hierarchy.
Do we dare ask the question,
to everyone,
“What would you do
to make your heart sing,
if you knew you could not fail,
if you knew you could not disappoint?”
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC