"haystack" poems
his breath woke me up every night
we lay in bed; no, it wasn't
that his breath smelled of toxins,
but of dandelions and poppies.
his hair smelled like he rolled around in
fields of roses and he was
the single dandelion that begged and
pleaded to fit in.
he would never fit
in but he didn't know that, so
he kept trying and it was
so beautiful to say the least.
underneath his skin, in-between
his veins and his bones are tiny seeds that
i planted with kisses and they
grow with my love, when i wrap my
bony arms around him and
squeeze tightly - it lets him
know that he's not normal, that he's
not right in the head but
i love that. so when he wakes me
in the middle of the night, as
i lie between him and the emptiness of
the night, i think that i'm dying
but the moon light lingers and i
know i am safe with his flower breath
and the weeds growing in-between
us and the roots that grow out
of my heels and strangle the love
picture frames on our off-white
bedroom wall. i stare at those cookie-cutter
pictures and wish i wasn't right
in the head, too, but if we both were
psychotic, he wouldn't be a dandelion.
so i stay awake and watch
his beauty radiate in the darkness of
the night and wish that i
was that beautiful too. but he
tells me that my battle wounds don't
amount to anything to him, that my skin
is a ghost to him. i wish
he saw me for me, but his eyes
see the beauty that he grows.
but several nights he leaves me and
i am cold and i am worthless and
i pray to a god that he will
come back and taunt me because
i cannot stand it when he is
not here between my fragile arms
keeping me warm and safe.
i beg him when he returns to just
stay the night, just one more night,
because i cannot bare to
sleep without the dandelion amidst
all the rose petals. i need
my dandelion to keep me safe
and to be the needle in the
haystack - i need him to be in my
arms because idon'twanttosleepalone.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
Failure.
Everyone experiences it,
In various shapes and forms,
School. grades. friends. Life,
Lots of frustration,
Hard work and dedication,
But still failed,
Endless studying,
Overworking oneself,
Thoughts of achieving success,
Like trying to find a needle in a haystack,
The dream of getting the test,
With the BIG A on it,
Feeling the ease of the heavy stress,
Uplift off the shoulders,
Knowing that they did it,
They made the dream they were striving for,
Having the joy of saying,
I have succeed.
But the dream fades away,
The feeling of coming out of a coma,
To see yourself in class,
Doing nothing, but daydreaming,
You realized upon that,
To be doomed to the fate,
Of failing once again.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 11:04 AM UTC
All Round River and waterfall
Land of the harvest,
This is our village
Betelnut and betel's garden.
Home home the granary
Haystack and cowshed,
This is our village
Magw Bwisagu cheerfully and welcome to.
Water from the well water to drag up
In the house bring on waist wrap,
This is our village
As is family.
Early morning wake up the chicken
Harvest in the land of to go,
This is our village
***** and solution of farming to do.
And so the garden vegetables everywhere
Lai, lapha, mula and etc.
This is our village
Vegetables are not lacking.
Temple, church and bathou festival
Holy, our place of worship
This is our village of bodos
Goibari taijowbari, kantalbari, and like the names.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 12:19 PM UTC
his lips would remind you of cold tuesday afternoons made for coffee and falling apart. he never really kissed with so much intimacy but he kissed me nonetheless, and maybe those were enough — those steady, demanding kisses, until all i'm left with are sighs and shoulders carved with his name. my fingers, lost in his hair, like withered roses catching fire. my lips, swollen and red, like sunsets begging for the night to come home. my heartbeats, carelessly, hastily stitched inside the hem of his sleeves.
but i stayed in his apartment, slept in his bed, and wore his clothes; like an incoherent word misplaced in a haystack, like a poem, half-naked on the kitchen sink, unraveled by the faintest brushes of skin. slow and claiming. fast and rough. he never really held me close enough, tight enough, but he held me nonetheless, and for a while — just for a while, i could pretend that he wasn't the embodiment of all the things i got to hold but could never get to keep.
he never really looked at me with love or with an intensity that burns, but he gazed nonetheless — almost lost and lust-hazed; calculating and restrained, like i was every poetry he wasn't supposed to write but had written anyway. and i gazed back, at my hands resting against steady movement of his chest, at his dim-morning eyes, at the slight part of his lips.
and his lips — i know they would remind you of cold tuesday afternoons, made for coffee and falling apart. and i know that it wasn't love.
it wasn't love,
but it's pretty close.
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 7:29 AM UTC
atop
that golden haystack
mounted on an unwieldy bullock cart
you wished we had......
a regret of a million lifetimes!
every time
your plucky smile flashes
in the sacred space between brows,
i see a wish fulfilling acacia tree
nymphalid butterflies flutter in my gut
and rapid clips of lifetimes past
neatly edited,
projected as movie trailers
your deathlike silence
has quietly become my universe,
as i pen in moon-like solitude
memoirs of an unrequited love
© 2019
Aug 3, 2019
Aug 3, 2019 at 11:14 AM UTC
You were the needle
Stitching me together
I was the hay
So brittle, so fragile
And when you left
You left that needle
Hidden within me
A part I could not find
Nor could I remove
And just so I could
Remove from me
That small part of you
I burned that hay stack
To the ground.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
Finding you was the best thing that ever happened to me
You have showed me what it is like to have someone that actually cares about me
You guide me and encourage me to keep going and to succeed
Finding you was like finding a needle in a haystack
I don't know how to explain the way I feel about you
It is like something that I have never felt before
I can't stop smiling when I'm around you
You make me feel so comfortable when I'm around you
It's like I don't even have to try around you
I can be myself around you 100% and I have never felt that before
You make me laugh and smile
You make me happy and forget about my anxiety for a little bit
You talk me out of all my problems and tell me to take things day by day
You are there for me when I'm struggling and need someone to vent to
Finding you has changed my life for the best
Finding you has bettered me
I don't know what I would do without you in my life
Yes, things are complicated right now
But, everything comes so much easier when you are there
You make me see the good in myself
You keep me focused on my education
Finding you has kept me determined to get my teaching degree
I can't wait to graduate college and see you sitting there in the audience watching me walk across stage accepting my diploma
Finding you has made me who I am
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC
Before I met you
I had resolved to stay single
That was the safer route
I had grown tired of being hurt
Sometimes during the night
I would look at the stars
Wondering, if there was someone
Out there looking for me as well
I remember feeling distraught
Over the pain life had handed me
Not understanding why
If I deserved the pain
If I even deserved to ever be happy
Because others hadn't appreciated me
I had lost the understanding of my own worth
Before I met you
I had been used
Abused and confused
Alone
Wanting something I thought I would never have
A needle in a haystack was found
When you came into my life
You were the one to recognize my value
You showed me what it meant to feel loved
Your sweet disposition and honest smile
Helped me to forget about the past
All I can see now is the future
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
The posted photo
made on somones computer
looked like loneliness
dressed as wisdom
and begged you to believe the fallacy
It said
Don't fall in love when you're lonely
fall in love when you're ready
You will never learn how love works
if you save it
give it away
get hurt
give it away again
Love takes practice
And even if finding my love
looks like the crackhead's
needle in the haystack
Know that my love isn't *****
You won't get sick from my love
It is just that my love has been used
And that is all that love ever wanted anyway
was to be used
It is not some Star Wars action figure
Meant to never be opened
to maintain value
Imagine Luke Skywalker's
Anger at you upon tasting fresh air
Thinking
Have you seriously been keeping this from me?
Have you seriously been keeping this from me?
My love is pure
Been refined
by the filter of bodies
and coming back to me
My love is top shelf
but it is always free
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 3:57 PM UTC
in my dreams, I found your voice whispering my name
it was so quiet, just like you, throwing your secrets in the grave
silent euphoria covering the tension in my muscles and veins
releasing the strenuous stress, but my blood still runs white
white sunlight running through me and my thoughts run to you
it's like an natural instinct, a second skin, a cause to the effect
you peer into my windows and the realization why was a slap in the face
ironic because I fell into the same guilty pleasure that you did
your spring and summer lasted me a few years, but winter came
love hibernated back into it's cave, built it's castle and lava moat
haphazardly scattered ghost starve in the back of an abandoned alley
looking for a map out of this godforsaken eath but they can't leave
not without a sign pointing them in the right direction, but i always turn left
it's like we were related by blood, but our blood learned to squander
my fingertips shake violently, do you realize how badly i need you
anxiety was taking every inch of my body and collapsing my lungs
i'm searching for a needle in a haystack and it's been found already
i'm looking for a key to the locked door but my hands are empty
i'm peering through an opening to find any source of hope for us
and i come up empty every single time.
-kra
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 5:26 PM UTC
I hear the ocean make music
Like the rustling of autumn leaves
The sound of them gently rubbing
As she swept my heart like a wind
Singing every word she breathes
Upon a haystack full of needles
With no rhymes, nor pauses
Neither masquerading riddles
Simple and unassuming
She is a beautiful mess
My heart keeps swooning
But I couldn’t care less
Her flaws are fascinating
Like ribbons on her sleeves
Her charm is perfume
Her name is a spell
A graceful soul I see
Inside a feeble shell
To me she’s one and only
And that I can tell
My heartbeat thunders
And chased her nightmares
Like aquamarine
Calm and serene
A thousand, ten thousand words
Isn’t enough to create one phrase
But surely, I wrote a love song for two
Must I recalibrate, I can’t undo
iamthe_avatar ©2014
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC
Love me like you do.
Like a needle in a haystack
is true love me and you.
Trustworthy friend also you.
An hp's haystack found, miracle.
A loving soul, treasure icecle.
In the law of attraction, true love
attracts like, and in a notch of good fortune opposites must intimately attract true lovez entanglement
Is an intricate weave,
of LOVEz for two in one loop.
I found a twin matching soul.
A magnet in both our midst,
receptiveness open mind exist.
Intellectual genius in heart.
its gist, portal and bridge.
Uncovering vast blessings
his needle in my haystack,
just came to me, as bee
to pollen in essence,
his needle found me.
Now retaining such find and
price takes sculpture in mind.
Keeping it requires an equal
enterprise a twin needle's vise
Or my fire and ice!
In love and war it's wise,
To tingle our rhyme with rice.
To never part, it takes more pie
than luck, poem, or needle in eye.
I once was blind, but now I see
Through our fire in ice.
~~~~
BY: Karijinbba.
All Rights Reserved - revised
08+2021.
Aug 6, 2021
Aug 6, 2021 at 11:27 AM UTC
It took me just one look
Just one unexpected happenstance
To change the path I walk on
And let my heart take control of me
I was an unassuming guy
Who people would often only pass by Staying only in the background
Afraid to be exposed on the limelight
You were a sweet summer sunshine
Who makes any man look twice
Confident and beautiful, radiant as sunlight
You're a once in a lifetime jackpot, a needle in the haystack
But loneliness devours you
People took advantage of you
You're sweetly kind demeanor abused
And you were left and torn to pieces
Nevertheless I took a chance
I vowed to make you smile perpetually
Pick up the pieces and repair what's left
Shape it and make it feel something new
No matter your past iniquities
Nor your present insecurities
No matter what scarred you deeply
Nevertheless, you'll always have me
Nevertheless I'll stay honest and true
Nevertheless I'll stay madly in love with you
Nevertheless I'll try to ease the hurt and pain
Nevertheless you'll always be a precious gain
You are the one my eyes see
Not your past nor your future
Regardless of what made or broke you
I fell in love, deeply and truly with you
I'm in love with you regardless
I may never know any reason why
But I do know that my heart and soul
Body and spirit, they all belong to you
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 8:39 AM UTC
and if you are still the way you have always been, you're the lucky ones because most of us have taken ourselves apart down to the very molecules we are made up of and rearranged them to someone else's liking
and if you are still happy then you're the lucky ones, because most of us are so depressed we are willing to lather our stomachs in alcohol and burn our throats with smoke for fun, or to forget that person who made us feel like we were sitting in a haystack of needles, stabbing and wounding every inch of our skin
and if you still strive for your highest hopes and dreams, then you're the luckiest ones, because most of us settle for less, and only climb the ladder until we think we have reached the top
and if you're in love, you really are the luckiest of all, because we are all mostly bitter over those we have lost, thinking we are unable to find someone that will bring us the same happiness that the other person used to bring
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
It's on them nights I drink alone. Find myself thinking of home. These beers bottle bones empty and shatter. Liquor lung sigh. Chest heavy like a white trash wind chime. Like a six pack of bud ice hanging from some fishing line. Hear them low notes bouncing of the lips in the wind. And maybe you worry, but **** I'm fine to drive. And on those days when my gut isn't a gas tank for beer refilling at a pity party pit stop, I drive on love. Write love poems on phones before the ***** knocks me out. And sure, maybe my love makes as much sense as the words I slurr. And maybe my love is as unique as the crackheads needle in the haystack, but I'll still love you serious as a heart attack. Like a stroke... of genius... an epiphany about the realness of God. That maybe the story is flawed, but you're welcome to believe. And maybe I'm drunk right now, but I never meant to deceive. So kiss me with your break lights, while a pray to the slow light that I can live life like an old man feeding birds on a bench in the park. Got nothing else on his mind... just love... you maybe. And whatever you might think. I promise. I'm fine to drive
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 4:32 AM UTC
I must be blessed,
Surrounded by benevolent spirits,
Guarded by angels,
Watched by my ancestors before me.
This life cannot have been the first time we’ve met.
Some never find,
What we have discovered in each other.
We are a four leaf clover,
A needle in a haystack,
A rare and precious taonga,
A treasured gift.
We are perfect,
Immaculate.
In you I find a comfort,
That sometimes wanders from myself,
You are my closest companion,
and I learn so much
From the way that you are.
We are sisters,
Blood is irrelevant.
We are weird sisters,
Queer witchy feminists,
Living by self-developed norms,
Rather than societal,
The value of which cannot be overestimated.
Together we cannot be held back.
We are perfect,
Immaculate.
I will float with you
In our next life also.
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 4:30 AM UTC
Of fair essence and hope
a radiant beauty
awaiting her prince
Of long desire and heart
a tired warrior
bereft of oar
Of souls bright and warm
a universe forged
together in time
Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 2:02 PM UTC
Thank you for dinner, sorry I can't stay
sorry I was born, sorry I can't pay
Sorry I was around
when you'd have me gone
Sorry I got quiet
when you went to turn me up
The road ahead for me
the road behind for you
Should have packed and left you at night
so I could finally pass death into the daylight
Awarded for the conscious service I provide:
Nothing
Nothin?
Nothing but crutches with smudges
catching must in the closet touching
another box in its depressing square
Pictures, I burn them
Dish? I break that.
I'm just another broke ***** barefoot in a haystack
Your clothes get acid
Heart? I sever the artery.
I'm just another childhood ruined with adult bad
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
**** em.
Claustrophobic nightmares
Chiropractic disasters
Supplementary salvation-
From Salvation-
pillows and blankets
Strangers are wed
finitely
Elbow-room is
as precious as gold
a needle in a haystack
A waiting room
for greater adventures in store.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 9:21 AM UTC
"you’re so cute! why are you single?"
because my crippling expectations of romantic relationships
are consistently juxtaposed to the disappointment of swiping left
or right, double tapping, it’s a match!
and hoping to find a sharp needle in this **** of a haystack
only to find a blunt object blubbering
"are you masculine?"
because the chunk of flesh dangling between my thighs
or the beard on my chin
or the hair on my chest
isn’t an obvious dictation of
my status as identifying male,
because “masculinity” has now been decided by the masses
to be left to the chiseled neanderthals laden with testosterone
too doped up on their post-workout endorphins
to do anything about the internalized misogyny
that costs lives on the daily.
i used to piece together outfits like puzzles
hoping that when it’s solved, maybe,
possibly,
on the off chance “you’ve” nothing better to look at,
"you" might notice me.
because i was raised in a society that taught me
looking good would get “your” attention
so you might want to open up the box
and begin piecing together the real puzzle of why we
treat our brothers and sisters like **** for
not conforming to your black and white box of
"masculine" expectations
"you’re so cute! why are you single?"
because i will continue to express myself as i see fit.
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 1:25 AM UTC
These thoughts and feelings
flowing through me
affecting
every aspect of my being.
My brain
receives and processes
the information
and then
reacts
No thought is needed
A highly functional automated algorithm
abiding by the learned lessons of interaction
and conditioning burnt into the once easily malleable
network of neurons that defines my personality
The heavy mask of logic and pride
so tightly wrapped
over the fabric of my true being
keeping me in this game
Yet
I chose to play
To identify
with this silly and burdensome sobriquet
To one day break free from the automated voice-mail
that responds apathetically to the glorified
archetypes, thought-forms, information
that originates from
God
creator of
signal and receiver
thought and mind
emotion and body
Once the original signal is found
a needle in a haystack
the mystery is opened
the opening of a book yet written
A beginning to all beginnings
An ending to all endings
this is you, here, now.
LIVE. BE.
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 1:13 AM UTC
Soft-littered is the new-year’s lambing fold,
And in the hollowed haystack at its side
The shepherd lies o’ night now, wakeful-eyed
At the ewes’ travailing call through the dark cold.
The young rooks cheep ’mid the thick caw o’ the old:
And near unpeopled stream-sides, on the ground,
By her Spring cry the moorhen’s nest is found,
Where the drained flood-lands flaunt their marigold.
Chill are the gusts to which the pastures cower,
And chill the current where the young reeds stand
As green and close as the young wheat on land
Yet here the cuckoo and cuckoo-flower
Plight to the heart Spring’s perfect imminent hour
Whose breath shall soothe you like your dear one’s hand.
1.7k
*A needle in a
Haystack
That’s what true love
Is.*
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
Finding a needle in a haystack is easier than finding true love.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
Jeans rolled past my knees
Sleeves cut short to a v
Hair tied with elastic rubber band.
Already from shifting position
Three splinters and one rusty needle have pricked my soles.
Here on the bleachers at Pioneer Park,
That's what you become.
A splinter of wood amidst a haystack of action.
There's that group of thirty plus playing frisbee on the grassy flats, and
That group of acro yogi's you were supposed to join.
I'd rather sit here on these prickly bleachers and
Be a splinter of wood, with the sun shining and the cloudy sky drizzling,
Then go down below and be a social butterfly.
I've been that all day, now all I need is to get rained on, feel the wet,
Be a splinter of wood on the bleachers.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC