"griped" poems
He was calm, cool and relaxed
In his Papa's old forbidden barn
His eyes hid a lonely happiness
It was a quiet summer afternoon
At first he thought it was a man
But in the heat, he couldn't decide
And his young heart felt haunted
So from a distance he watched
Then, the clouds gathered
And a mighty storm brewed
Darkness slithered into the barn
Rife with the venom of uncertainty
And like the darkness , she crept in
Her eyes haunted by a strange fear
Danced about the old lonely barn
But not one glance fell on the boy
He watched her and her thoughts
Settle down in the hay and into sleep
The barn was now dark and quiet
With the exception of silent sobs
Then suddenly they stopped,
In his minds eye they dispersed
Like the dark stormy clouds, then
He slowly crept up to her
But before he could do the ritual
Strange fingers griped his hand
They had the terrifying grip of death
And death was a man!
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 2:14 AM UTC
You were a face of November
A face that burned through my mind
As I griped my phone with a shaky hand
And heavy defeat
I read our conversation
Splattered with the words
Of my most recent confession
And wondered
What I had said
To leave me
With wet hands
And another reminder
That I will never be good enough
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 12:36 PM UTC
You griped their shoulders,
Squeezed them tight,
Your grooming obvious
To the double glance.
I swallowed sharply
The tacks of guilt,
Mounted creeping
Showing on the board.
Your heavy stare
As she walks by,
I think of the word
That ends in “phile”.
Your vile intentions
Are wrapped around
A tight thin sheen
Of relating bands.
The coffee poisoned,
And water too,
With drops of degrees
That made you swoon.
You whispered softly
Into my ear,
I resisted from vomiting
The truth in clear.
Remaining silent,
I sat in class,
You resumed your dance,
And I kept my rage.
After your departure,
I shared my point of view,
Of way the you touched them,
They remained as fools.
Oblivious to the threat,
To conditioned ways,
In their innocence,
They enjoyed your game.
Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 1:25 PM UTC
You left us on a Thursday, but we decided to wait until the following Monday to do anything with you.
You left your room a mess, more than usual, with sloppy scribbles on the walls about accidents and incidents. Even though your mother always griped and reminded you to be tidy and firm you ignored her because, well, you'll always be who you always were. Your clothes all thrown in the right corners, the cereal bowls filled with mold under your bed. The way you stapled your character through tangled cables and caricature. I loved you every minute of it.
I remember you showing me your worst at the Friday night lights, behind the bleachers. Between cheering and littered beer and soda bottles, you told me something that destroyed my optimism about things. I didn't even notice the plastic crunched under my feet and some kind of snack bar paste that ruined my favorite sneakers. I always loved learning, but not after what you taught me about what he taught you. I guess that's what teachers are for. But he took much more than he ever gave to you on a chalkboard.
I didn't go to your funeral, I was too busy downing the wine in the parking lot I stole from the local supermarket.
And after everyone had left the scene, I was so torn up I went to your tombstone, alone, screaming.
It was later on, maybe eleven pm at night.
There wasn't anyone around, not a soul in sight.
Just you and I. Part of me hopes your spirit was there. Another part of me hopes you didn't witness my blood red eyes and dribbling nose. Anyone could have tasted the rage in the air.
I don't want you to see me how I was, how I am now.
I want you to be in peace at it's best, as one should when they're resting like that and such. It's just that, this was too much for me, it tore me to pieces, ripped me to shreds. I hope they bury me next to you. The decision has been a struggle. But I don't want you to be so lonely down there, so I'm coming to join you. Because now I feel unfinished, like half of a puzzle.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
I didn't realize or tell that I was ill,
just a little over whelmed,
Your handsomeness formed by hopes and grief,
Brought your complexion a lighten grace,
I knew this couldn't be the final of our story,
The story of my dreams,
But even sleeping I was stunned,
I needed a snap of reality,
Your face,
The delicate features physically inches away from mine and yours,
Pure porcelain aspects,
heartwarming,
petrified,
Difficult to memorize your physique, presents
Unable to refer back to a black and white film,
When I saw your lifeless, sadden, face I can only think,
That glance lifting up with clarity and joy,
We cling and griped onto each other for the limited time
that was given in the dream,
You returned once again,
The more I saw you, repeated intentionally,
I couldn't resist and lean against your touch,
without thinking nothing more then the happiness,
Not worried it would lessen nor fade,
Without thinking I was still alive and beating,
I needed to wake up once more,
and see the light,
to wake up to you,
again.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
There is a boy bathed by the light of the full moon
I wrote about it, then I burned it
Now.. sitting in the shade of the budding lime trees
I realize that which is once written..cannot be destroyed
An oddness is abroad I believe
An oddness that allows for the purchasing of warm apricot juice
An oddness that produces groundless but powerful fears
An oddness producing an impulse to run away
An oddness that weaves itself into a shape among the sultry and coagulated air
An oddness in the shape of a boy
Captured by the blue light of a full moon in the middle of the day
I shut my eyes but the vision flutters before me
As if it is impressed on tissue paper
Blown gently by a soft breeze
The boys face though beautiful is one made for derision
I think to myself..this can't be.. but alas it is
For when I now open my eyes the hallucination
For that's what I believe it to be
Still flutters before me as a candle flame flickers
My heart is beating in a wild desperation
I am about to scream
The mirage dissolves itself and the boy vanishes
The fear that has griped me evaporates
I put the whole episode down to the drinking
Of warm apricot juice on a very hot day
But am I wrong am I wrong...that would be an oddness
Apr 1, 2012
Apr 1, 2012 at 12:47 PM UTC
Prisms encased bare branches.
Tiny rainbows refracted on the asphalt.
Glass trees
and the golden pink sky
flying by.
You left.
You left me with the sun.
Then it left me too
so I fell as darkness fell.
My hands folded on my chest,
my body straight,
in the casket of my bed, veiled
with warm covers, I slept.
Rapid eyes reconstructed the sun,
painting on my eyelids.
Soft shaded grass beneath my soles,
from the shadow of my house,
That eclipsed the setting sun.
I made my way next door,
with bare feet, lead by my shadow.
I felt your presence.
Gran,
I felt your ghost in my dream.
You sat inside the kitchen,
center, by the table
looking adoringly at the family.
Everyone was laughing and talking.
They seemed to glow around you.
Mom tended to all the guests,
while my aunt made coffee.
There was little food,
little physical evidence of celebration.
Just the smell
of the bitter black beverage percolating,
and kids like firefly
lights, appearing and disappearing
from view as they played
between our legs.
I didn’t know how to say “bye” then,
with your frail chest heaving
and plastic tubes tangled around you.
Silence griped my throat
strangling my “Goodbye,
Gran”.
But, now, you were at the kitchen table,
from unknown horizons,
hugging me,
to give back the time
to speak more loudly without words
what I couldn’t before.
You waited till I had let you go
before making your rounds
to end the last farewell.
I followed you out
as you made your way through the garage
heading west past the blue stones
and the wall of evergreen.
I stopped you before you left the shade
into the golden pink light,
that fiery light,
and gave you another long hug,
and a kiss to take with you
as you evaporated in the glare.
You left as you did before,
Gran,
with the sun.
A dusty beam of light peeked
through a crack in the blinds
waking me;
my cheeks stuck to the wet pillow.
Gran, you always had a way of reminding me to wash my sheets.
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 1:50 PM UTC
I am sorrow,
Overcast-ed by droplets of H20
and a grey outlook,
From an island of depression
By not able to withstand the voices of the house,
I'm from an unknown land
Where my forbidden thoughts linger,
I'm from bed to chair to walk,
Secret tears on the isolated
Bare floor,
Waiting to vaporize into
The thick oxygen,
From arms to legs griped together,
From dreams to nightmares,
From fiction to reality.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 2:57 AM UTC
Once upon a time,
There was a man with no soul
He wandered into darkness
And locked the door
The key was lost to reasons,
enslaved in his heart
Caressing the morbid season
He walked too far
With no sign of life,
Calmness engulfed his eyes
Everything he ever touched
Always withered and died
Everyone he once knew,
Now were gone
Didn't knew who he was
Nor where he was from
Memories filled his despair
Of a time unknown
Where he belonged
Walls of a broken home
Death loomed the surface,
Of the night he dwelled
Dig out his pain,
In the pit where he fell
Comfort of sorrow
Now engulfed his heart
It felt like rain,
Knew not what these tears are
Embraced his fate
Chewed out his scars
Where he lies,
In the wake of stars
Stuck in his vision,
Of a dream he once had
Whenever he wakes
Everything goes black
And he's left in confusion,
Of what these years mean
Time never was a friend
Wouldn't let him dream,
Now he's empty
Every moment is cold
Moon is his silver
And sun is his cursed gold
Who he is,
Not even the mirror knows
Broken and cracked
His reflection outsold
Bleeding his nightmares
In the sea of his disguise
He swims in darkness
In the caress of the night
Once upon a time,
There was a man
Made deal with the devil,
Evil- he didn't understand
Sang on the crossroad
The song of hate,
With words of sorrow
Devil did wake
Thirst for blood
Made him blind
In the rules of hell,
His soul was bind
The deed was done
And morrow was gone
Upon the crossroad
He stood alone
With evil in his heart,
He made his way
Devil was gone,
But a ghost did stay
Claws of madness
Now griped his heart
He sold the world
And watched it fall apart
Once upon a time,
There was child in pain
He was different
And for some insane
He was quite
And he was deranged
They said he was the devil
With evil in his name
He was lonely
And he was lost
Reached out to the world
But they left him to rot
He knew about love,
It tasted bitter then hate
He watched them sleep,
To never wake
He made his way
To the land god forsaked
The world sold him,
To be the devils bait
And the devil grinned
He said,
"Be careful what you wish for
Or what you create"
Once upon a time,
A weight was borne
In depth of hell
A soul was born
He knew not of love,
Or the god they claimed
He knew not of hate,
Or the devil they blamed
For they were gods themselves
Ruling from their thrones
Fist of iron
And a heart of stone
In the onset of a nightmare
He was grown,
Smoke covered the sky
And the sun never shone
He was sold in hate,
All he had ever known
The man who sold the world
Was a god- one of their own
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
I wanted to undress you
I wanted you to crawl like a tigress
I wanted you to show me the danger
I wanted to **** you
I wanted to see you dance in strawberry orchard
I wanted to here you moan
I wanted to see a red strawberry griped to your lips
I wanted to exchange vow of silence
I wanted to see you become buoyant
I wanted you to say 'Fuck me more'
I wanted you to fill what words can not fill
I wanted to you be amoral over the codes
I wanted you to flourish like a red poppy
I wanted you to walk with me side by side
I wanted to teach you green, red and blue, black and white
I wanted the strawberry to remark our day
I wanted to see your smile and **** walk
I wanted you to be me
I wanted you to have big eyes
I wanted you
I wanted the whole you
© shanikayrs
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 4:40 AM UTC
The dull sky said it all!
When he escaped death,
For the second time in a row,
But now, the day had arrived
When the God came from heaven
To take his soul!
But no! no! I wouldn’t let go!
I griped his hand so tight,
Gasping every moment
“Grandfather! Please fight!
I know you are a warrior
And wouldn’t let go,
When you faced all the pain,
With a smirk and a glow!
When you didn’t let me cry
While you were about to die
When you gave us wisdom,
When we were facing,
Those dark nights!
I know u want to live!
To live along with me
And watch my children
Calling you, “Great grandfather!
Here is he!””
My grandpa simply smiled,
Trying to speak with all his might
“Dear Miloni! You are the priest
In this world of devilish freaks,
Now when the God has come to fetch me!
Why don’t you set me free!?
Ill always watch you from the stars,
And bless you from the heaven,
And make you feel that acquaintance,
That we always shared!
Now wipe these ugly tears,
And give me a big smile,
Because I don’t want to watch you cry,
When you bid me this final good bye!”
“No grandfather! No grandfather
You will never die
Rather you will be immortal
For the rest of my life!”
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 6:09 AM UTC
The usual crew down at Mary's Cafe,
Slurping coffee over hash browns and eggs,
Weather too nice now for comments.
Bill clears his throat to say the grass is getting long,
And the pastor was out mowing yesterday.
"I tried to get my old Sears mower running,
But no go," he griped. "Took it to the shop."
Tom cleared his throat and looked at Bill.
We all knew what was coming.
Tom prides himself in handy manning,
And waxes on and on to us poor fools.
"Did you clean the plug?"
"Was your filter clean?"
Bill was in the hot seat now,
And we were being entertained.
"I checked 'em both, that wasn't it,"
Said Bill. "It don't make sense,
'Cause it was running
When I put it in the shed last fall!"
Tom chortled then, an expert in his glee...
"Well, then it's obvious, Bill!
If it was running when you put it in the shed,
It's out of gas!"
At that point, I burned my mouth,
Spit hot coffee on my food, and gasped for air.
I wouldn't miss these breakfasts for the world.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 8:27 AM UTC
The letters coiled beneath her pleading tongue
Griped between the veins with cotton strings like a marionette
Hanging in mid air
Only settling in her nightly thoughts
Still and frozen.
Just as still as the silhouette of the painting
Concealing the montage of words
That one lived
She was silenced as they haunted her
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
The sound was deafening
The earth griped groaned and grumbled
Beneath their feet
Seconds of mobocracy
Followed by
An eerie silence of confusion
Shock and awe
The sun sat high unnerving
As the dust settled
Exposing the grotesque macabre
That is now their reality
Tear trickled traces speckled with blood seared
Upon muddled faces covered of soot
Stood surreal against the carnage
Unabled to grasp what has happened
Trudges about in symbiotic aloofness
Slowly a crescendo of wails
A wretched affair
Sliced into the mid day air
Sending chills to all within ear
Sirens heard from the distance
Approaches quickly
Adding to the cacophony of sound
An orchestra of pain
Reminiscent of
Dante's Inferno
Rock rescuers to the core
Bodies strewn and dispensed
Lie unrecognizable
Young and old alike
For death does not discriminate
As neighbors extend helping hands
Black and white
Slowly the healing begins
We can breathe again
Live again
Trust again
For surely hate cannot be
Allowed to win
The outpouring of support was astronomical
The love felt was undeniable
People say I'm ideological
But love conquers hate
And that's
Indisputable
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
Books of word in shaded writes not as other
Reading was penned. where wrote but black
Pages of nothing, words claustrophobic in tight
Proximity but never viewed on sights unseen
In either dusk or light. Gathered upon nameless
Shelves, dust gathered where words left unspoken.
Many fought the paradox of never reading these
Pages that pulsated In mystical thought.This library
Of books with neither word, but pages took the
Lives of many never a mark. But now their bones
Lie in waiting anticipation, now eyes hollow of
Needed words only grasping torn parchment.
Along she came silken gloves, garbs that cut upon
Fine curves, she walked with a look of cautious pleasure
As if seeing but knowing what was beyond her sight.
Her only companion was a stick old yet shimmered
In a mirage of confusions light. For after she was beyond
Glares, her memory an afterimage upon others cares.
She had heard of this place of pages as dark as night,
Heeded upon thoughts of countless others who had
Pilgrimaged to this place, all faded from memories
Sight. "I wonder if a book can be read in darkness,
She sighed; and she came across this Old redwood
Door, in a redwood trunk as it stretched upon high.
Old door was neither of key or grip. She stood patiently
As rain shivered bones as night turned to day.
Thinking of how a door would be opened, Then a
Thought smiled upon her lips."Knock, Knock,
And that which was closed now let her in. The air
Smelt of old paper and the air was static and sweet.
She gathered her surroundings and where wood
Had greeted her, now there was but a view of the
Plentiful forest that stood outside. She reunited her
Thoughts of consumed panic and breathed.
Her stick she grasped and in words whispered, it
Shrunk to but a branch in griped tightly in her hand.
Noticing those that had stumbled or sneaked in this place.
Each a book or page in white closed palms, they were
Silent but told her stories of there fate. each page black
As if night had set upon them and sleep was like sinking
Sand drowning never to ever awake.
Once again words spoke upon a branch and light did like
Firefly playing against this enlightened place. She scrolled
On pages of onyx black and where once a void of nothing
Her light gained access to the darkest palace and words
Shone in echo's of time. Bestowed on this beauty was
The key to words unspoken now glanced upon in sight.
"I will learn your words,
"Never revealing what others might,
The library now hidden, but a tree can be found in
This wood, and on certain nights fireflies dance around
It and play in moonlit fun. All the while a woman
Looks after words that heed great power. But in
The hands of light, words dance upon air into the night.
Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
Being puny, young and too impatient to understand time would eventually change me, I sulked at the unfairness of the world.
He sensed I felt exactly what I was: a limp sapling too fragile and green to be allowed join the hunt of adventure with the older children.”Fetch me water from the well,” he said, more so a suggestion than a request.
Galloping to show my pace under his constant protective eyes, I reached the stone hemmed shaft.
Looping the rope through the eye of the weighted pail handle, I eagerly watched the vessel plummet into oblivion. Savouring the echoed dunk and gulp. The silent count to seven reverberated within.
Bracing myself in a determined stance. Straining against the initial load, I heaved. Hand griped over hand grip on the thick rough hemp cord. I allowed its slack to gather as it wished on the earth by the foot of the attached secure spike.
The last hoist was always the hardest for me. Trying as I could to avoid the bottom of the pail from striking the lip of the well. Swinging it clear, I untangled the umbilical cord. I carried the burden with dread. One arm was awkwardly angled for balance in case too much sloshed over the brim and soaked my feet, or worse, dampened my chances to prove my worth.
“Place it on the bench.” He nodded to the far end from where he sat as rigid and as tragic as a dense tree stump hinting at the might which he once was. Standing by his shoulder, I watched him overlap the flesh of his bog-wood tough hands into a cup. Without a flinch or goose-bump to note the coolness of the water, he sank his hands into the pail.
He slowly raised the basin of flesh. From the gathered pool minute drips seeped back into its source. He looked at me with his tricolour eyes of pitched pupils moated by iris of speckled cloudy blue in a sclera battlefield tinged with a sepia hue.”This is all I can lift. You’ve carried more than I one-handed.”
He sipped the last of the diminishing pool, only wasting the dampness of his fingers upon his woolen top. I followed his gaze to my own petal hands. I did not notice him leaving as I examined my palms in a new light.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
The time for words had passed
I don't even remember
what was said.
Who said it?
Hold up, hold back,
too late now.
My weight holding him down.
His throat griped tightly between my hands.
My mind grasping blindly from the hate.
What now, what next,
I've crossed a line.
The hate that made a handle
of my opponent's larynx
is muddied.
Muddled with guilt but strengthened by fear.
Let go, let loose,
the fight has left him.
Yet still I hold,
fearing more the next opponent I face.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
The letters coiled beneath her pleading tongue
Griped between the veins with cotton strings like a marionette
Hanging in mid air
Only settling in her nightly thoughts
Still
And
Frozen
Motionless like the silhouette
Concealing a montage of words
That one lived
She was silenced as they haunted her
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
As the clock of life tics the minute hand takes away from us,
Precious time in our lives just to see what were made of.
We live in a society that is always testing your nerves, through situations and issues that challenge your courage.
It's hard to move forward when your griped by depression. It starts infecting your mind with hopeless feelings and self doubt. Some days you even feel like you cant cope, with all the depression and you start to think about letting go. Stress is common in life and staying focused is critical, to gain strength from your struggles and remain in control.
When life seems to hard, do you give up and forfeit the effort of trying, or put it all on the line? Does the fear of you failure bother you more than the fear of you dying? Hopefully so, we use fear to remind us, that our time here is short and our decisions define us!
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
DO you feel it
the warmth of another
hands tightly griped
to my body
eyes like white sparkly diamonds
stared straight into minds
as if he could almost read my mind
he doesn't talk much
but i knew he felt
a burning sensation
we danced our dance
below the great moon
a peck closed lip touched
ohh i just relaised it was nothing but
a beautiful dream
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 8:23 AM UTC
I saw a ray of sunshine
She sung to me like I was the sun
Nestled within her arms of Autumn yet to chill
Sweet scent of lavender and mint as she exhaled
Silver strands of silk
Morning dew kisses
Her heartbeat still in my head
All I ever had needed
I saw a ray of sunshine
She seemed colder today
Yet the smile is what pushed me to rise
Higher, Higher
Until I needed to come back to their earth
So, we forgot the pain she felt
Ignored the way she griped my hand
The warmth still there
Still strong
It would be better in no time, right?
I saw a ray of sunshine
She slept at the cusp of the summer noon
Mouth wide open
Ready to say I was hers
That no one would ever be able to take me away
Alas, she said nothing
And yet, I understood
She broke a promise
Maybe once or twice
But it is forgiven
For the second was only the wind whispering to me
She wouldn't of known
The way she sighed sent chills down my back
I saw a ray of sunshine this morning
But it's not her
To be fair, I can still smell the lavender and mint
I can still hear her voice
Her heart
But this was not her
The arms that held our autumn dropped all the leaves
Dew dried from the drought
Yet they were all soaked from the salty rain
I remember when she was gone
The clouds must of taken her away
Not out of cruelty
Only to take away the ignored pain
I'm sorry for moving on
Before I could tell her that she was MY sun
Alas, she had already known
This always helps me stop
Remembering
That I was actually the light
She, the one who guided the way
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
And when you raise that bottle to your worn, warped lips.
Do you see me?
And when your so ******* drunk you stumble and crumble to the floor.
Stop.
Do you see me?
When your vision blurs and your brain abducts your memories.
Do you still ******* see me?
At the end of the hallway scared half to death.
Blanket griped in my hand, tear filled eyes.
Do you see me there.
Do you see me through my heart break, Do you see me grow up and graduate, start smoking working a ******** minimum wage job trying to get my **** together when in reality I am falling apart because of you.
Do you ******* see
That the damage you do to yourself is damaging me.
All that poison that you inject into your blood stream turns into a tornado, breaking doors and beating wives. Your own flesh and blood becoming so ******* disgusted. They can't even look you in the eye?
You know who you don't see anymore
Do you know?
Under all that memory loss, Do you ******* remember?
You won't see, Oh you will not ******* see.
Me.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
A boy loves a girl
he knows this to be true
which is all the more important
because he doesn't know much else
at least for sure
but boy does he know love
it's simple really
he wondered what everyone griped about
but when he heard those words
the one saying a girl did not love him too
he was torn limb from limb
a boy woke in a hospital one day and hell the next
it's life with someone you love
but something much different without
so he would do his best to change her mind
and convince her to give him her remaining time.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 1:32 AM UTC
*i remember you
and that twinkle in your eye
the one that griped my heart so tight
on the day that you took flight
i remember it
like it was yesterday
that was when you went away
now here we are today
just the two of us
me and my lasting memory
if you think about it technically
with you, guess that makes three
which always seems to make me think
if in turn you remember me
and if you do, do you see
the fool in love i'll always be*
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 8:31 AM UTC
That feel of crazed in love with you
griped my heart and i bought it
as honest as it could be bought.
Then love was redefined
and seen in a new light.
But the heat the blaze the wild
even if not love, cant just be denied.
Mar 11, 2021
Mar 11, 2021 at 4:11 PM UTC