"haulted" poems
Pencil - ****** - ***** - Penalize -Pentagram - Pentagon - Pentagonal - Penitentiary -Pensive - Peninsula - P.......
....Plagued. What is it to be plagued? Haunted?
Seiged by an inescapable force?
Haulted?
IMMOVABLE.
ability to move, yet achieving no valuable distance.
A struggle writhing within ones self.
Pen -Pent- Pent up- P...
....Please, no more....
....more miles high.....
Stakes,
In the ground.....
Great stakes.....
High,
So very high.
Unreachable.
Unattainable.
Pen-Pensive-Pacing- to pace back and forth down a narrow stretch of newly carpeted hallway.
A door.
Adoring.....
Adorable....
Sweet.
Innocence left?
May be none left.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
The daughter of the village Maire
Is very fresh and very fair,
A dazzling eyeful;
She throws upon me such a spell
That though my love I dare not tell,
My heart is sighful.
She has the cutest brown caniche,
The French for "poodle" on a leash,
While I have Bingo;
A dog of doubtful pedigree,
Part pug or pom or chow maybe,
But full of stingo.
The daughter of the village Maire
Would like to speak with me, I'll swear,
In her sweet lingo;
But parlez-vous I find a bore,
For I am British to the core,
And so is Bingo
Yet just to-day as we passed by,
Our two dogs haulted eye to eye,
In friendly poses;
Oh, how I hope to-morrow they
Will wag their tails in merry play,
And rub their noses.
* * * * * * *
The daughter of the village Maire
Today gave me a frigid stare,
My hopes are blighted.
I'll tell you how it came to pass . . .
Last evening in the Square, alas!
My sweet I sighted;
And as she sauntered with her pet,
Her dainty, her adored Frolette,
I cried: "By Jingo!"
Well, call it chance or call it fate,
I made a dash . . . Too late, too late!
Oh, naughty Bingo!
The daughter of the village Maire
That you'll forgive me, is my prayer
And also Bingo.
You should have shielded your caniche:
You saw my dog strain on his leash
And like a spring go.
They say that Love will find a way -
It definitely did, that day . . .
Oh, canine noodles!
Now it is only left to me
To wonder - will your offspring be
Poms, pugs or poodles?
4k
I must simply be doing something wrong,
For if I'm worried where my track will end,
Surely that means I don't trust myself one bit.
Sure, I've haulted my existence to grab a taste of recklessness
But how far will the road take me,
Until I'm breathless?
Lying in roads ****** off greens
Jumping in cars without gasoline
I've become the very thing my mother tried to keep me from being.
I want to stop from this parade of self destruction and maybe get my life together
But that too is hard to do
When all you do all day is drink, smoke, and waste away.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
The night will **** us
Days haunt
Coffin open
What more could slaves want
The waters will lead us
Wade wade
As the songs say
Drug my feet
I swung
Tiptoed over oak
Couldn't catch ground
The runaway
They've found
John told Annabelle
Who whispered truths to Sally
Shovel heavy
Hand
Pouring sand over
Covering man
Coffin open
How often slaves taunt
Spoke
To an essence
Molded from clay
Adam told Eve
Gardens where all should have stayed
Haulted
Feet fell to earth
Simply rethinking life
Death births
I swung
Couldn't catch ground
Tiptoed over oak
Wade wade
Rivers flowed
To heavens gates
Waited till sun down
Till the soul escaped
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 4:12 AM UTC
What destroys you the most?
The smoke in my lungs?
The ***** in my hair?
The alcohol in my veins?
The loveless love i perform with any pretty face that gives me a second glance?
I could tell you a million reasons why you should not love me.
I broke down that night.
I screamed the demons out that were plaguing my soul.
Forced the tears i have been holding back.
And you came to me.
I told you i was sad.
You told me you was sad, too.
How did i not notice?
Anti-depressants.
You are a better actor than i.
You embraced me and the screaming haulted.
You told me you loved me.
After i could tell you a million reasons not too.
Now i wept softly.
I wept for us both.
Like mother, like daughter.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
I woke up with my arms boa constricted around my pillow,
Superstition says that it means you miss someone.
For six weeks it's been about the distance of the speed of light for us.
When we are far away with the switch turned off we worry,
Or we are scared,
Something is just out of place.
When we are with eachother,
The switch turns on and feelings are there instantly.
Ever since I've been suction cupped to my parents rules,
I've stopped walking over to your house.
It's haulted me from being myself.
You say you have patience?
I hate to be testing it,
But let's wait these restrictions out.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 8:40 AM UTC
I'm getting quite tired of waiting
waiting for you
waiting for "us"
If you would even call "it" an "us."
Last night I couldn't wait
I picked up my phone, pouring the thoughts of my heart
into that little text box, and before I let my finger just push that send button
I stopped
resisting it with all my might; i stopped
I deleted word after word after word, watching everything reverse with a sense of melancholy elegance
I watched as the bar ran out of words to take from my fingertips, and then haulted
I froze staring into space; until I slowly turned my phone off and set it on my nightstand
I fell back onto my bed and nearly drowned myself in an ocean of blankets,
and let out a sigh of regret as my matress cradled my oh so tired back
I watched my dusted ceiling fan spin once, then twice, and then once more;
just wondering if you've ever done the same
if you've ever felt the same
if you've ever felt this feeling of melancholy elegance
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 1:33 PM UTC
She rides her machine through the road,
the rain is pouring down.
She really can't see much,
but the raindrops on the ground.
Her eyes are wet and foggy,
her heart is at peace.
The air is grey and groggy,
a mix of green and trees.
Mixes of colors swirl around her,
as swarms of cars swerve by.
Angry voices slur,
as raindrops fill her eyes.
She's spinning down this road so fast,
the tires slip and slide.
She feels at peace with her past,
as she takes her final ride.
Her arms are spread like wings,
catching the wind as she soars.
Through streets, people, and things;
as the sky above pours.
The cars are grazing her bare arms,
she feels this is her fate.
She really won't go much too far,
if she keeps on heading straight.
Face to face; a car's ahead,
her fate is seconds away.
Within the instant she'll be dead,
in a street she use to play.
When close to death you hear a sound,
it reflects all life you lived.
Although by fate she had felt bound,
her tires began to skid.
Her machine squealed to a stop,
she flung her arms out wide.
They say a raindrop closer,
and she really would have died.
The streetlights made a spot light,
the haulted headlights made a gleam.
As she headed home at night,
she woke up from this dream.
It wasn't inspired from a tv show,
nor from a tale she read.
It was to teach her to take life slow,
cause the future goes unsaid.
Jun 6, 2010
Jun 6, 2010 at 6:54 PM UTC
I wish, I hope, I dream for the geniality days to come back
Haulted at when we were small,
The fragrance is still in my hearts wall,
As a Magi you appeared for me and fall,
The moaning of ours is still buried deep in my hall,
For me the internal, immortal love is still tall.
I wish, I hope, I dream for the geniality days to come back,
Scamper at my heart and bounces back to your.,
Irresolute of all the vigour fights we fought for.,
Till today leaning and knocking at my door,
But the renown has separated us over and over more,
With you it was worth living at the sea Shore.
I wish, I hope, I dream for the geniality days to come back,
Tears that you can palpable and make me ribald,
Laughing, crying and evergreen feeling is still called,
The secret cannot remain as one and was told,
Still grateful as a friend like u I got but not hold,
Turning pages and pages of my diary and refreshing all that and fold.
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 6:10 AM UTC
And the world really did stop.
Haulted at its hinges by an indescribable force.
It steamed and chimed like a machine.
Attempting to break from it's shackles.
Attempting to breathe.
Trying to continue being.
It did not work.
The world was frozen in its feeble grace.
And the world really did stop.
Children turn to men when he went.
Often they viaied for his affection.
Beging for praise from him.
As would to their father.
We worshipped his every move.
Praise his inhuman brillance.
He was a picture of perfect.
And the world really did stop.
Life went on without moving forward.
I could only look behind me now.
Knowing the world won't ever be the same.
Others tried to fill his shoes.
Yet only managed to prove his perfection.
I was there once.
In the midst of my imperfections disgusting nature.
And the world really did stop.
I struggled.
Tosing and turning.
Trying to forget.
And remembering even more.
You face filled my head.
I wished I was dead.
Then kept it quiet.
And the world really did stop.
My mind find solace in another pain.
Trying my hardest to refute the truth.
I spent my days inside my own mind.
Trying to find reason.
In the silliest rhyme.
I'm losing sleep and time.
Contemplating a self destructive crime.
And the world really did stop.
Instead of tenderness for other.
I began to care only for myself.
I hid in the safety of my horrid head.
Escaping existance but not acknowledging it.
I begun to believe in fallacies.
Keeping them inside my heart.
Loving lies in order to avoid cries.
And the world really did stop.
Sweetly in the night it paused.
His boiling blood turned cold.
An arch angel was stolen.
Sweeped into an eternal night.
I live now in an infintie freight.
I do not deserve to cry.
He did not deserve to die.
Jun 7, 2020
Jun 7, 2020 at 12:22 PM UTC