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"haziness" poems
~for better days for the poet betterdays~ mournful tunes play silently, but still too often, eyes wet but in corners kept, recurring then the memories, keepsakes, letters, books, small trinkets, not dusty, but dusky, resting on in-between ledge of a mountain-sized twilight of well lit shadowy haziness, edgy dark brilliance, a comprehensible contrast non-comprehendible tunes that bless with equal measures of grief, comforting, by memorable card flashes of good relief, a dividing line, hazy and frequented crossed, a sort of path, with no destination signaled, as if the path itself was an end, to a meaning, a solution, with no clarity divined, a division of sight and insight, providing an ill fitting reconciliation mourning is electric, morning is electric, letters, words bottled up in evaporating perfume bottles, seeking the comfort of dissipation unto a larger atmosphere, the scent in everything tangible, stronger still yet, in intangibles that can erode but never ever fail to return instantly when voked, by vision, odor, a particular child’s smile, line in a poem volunteered recovered, uncovered, a post first writ to be written, discovered, when time and place coincidentally breathe together, at last, beckoning you to places where memory serves only as a pleasuring, upright mind marker, decorated in chains perpetual reforging, absent pain, gleaming dreamings full-replacing longings for pasts, new verses composed, passing, a grand addition to a child’s legacy
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May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 8:50 AM UTC
The Dirge of Memory
~for better days for the poet betterdays~ mournful tunes play silently, but still too often, eyes wet but in corners kept, recurring then the memories, keepsakes, letters, books, small trinkets, not dusty, but dusky, resting on in-between ledge of a mountain-sized twilight of well lit shadowy haziness, edgy dark brilliance, a comprehensible contrast non-comprehendible tunes that bless with equal measures of grief, comforting, by memorable card flashes of good relief, a dividing line, hazy and frequented crossed, a sort of path, with no destination signaled, as if the path itself was an end, to a meaning, a solution, with no clarity divined, a division of sight and insight, providing an ill fitting reconciliation mourning is electric, morning is electric, letters, words bottled up in evaporating perfume bottles, seeking the comfort of dissipation unto a larger atmosphere, the scent in everything tangible, stronger still yet, in intangibles that can erode but never ever fail to return instantly when voked, by vision, odor, a particular child’s smile, line in a poem volunteered recovered, uncovered, a post first writ to be written, discovered, when time and place coincidentally breathe together, at last, beckoning you to places where memory serves only as a pleasuring, upright mind marker, decorated in chains perpetual reforging, absent pain, gleaming dreamings full-replacing longings for pasts, new verses composed, passing, a grand addition to a child’s legacy
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25
When wisps of dandelions lay still in the blanket of your hair, and your eyes can no longer say I love you, without your lips moving. I know my world has ended. We stood on the porch with the wind chimes blowing songs through my ears. There's still something there through this Armageddon. I recollect the curve of your smile or the shape of your face in every single pool of water I come across. Your eyes had a haunting quality about them, as they look through my hollowed out frame, and see what wars I've fought. It was your time darling, your time I bought. I know, my world is ending. The skin of strangers bone's looks dimmer, and your heart looks darker. When it's revealed in the quiet of our room. That distorted haziness your voice gets when you're tired, is there all the time. I can never help but wonder what I did wrong. Asteroids come hurling towards me at a thousand miles an hour, The world is ending. Just as predicted. Where are you now? Clairvoyant and always knew just what to do. What happens now that I've been left behind. What happens now that I can't pick up the pieces? Your promises never looked more beautiful, than when you couldn't keep them. Lies never seemed more eloquent than when you couldn't stop telling them. Your face it haunts me. Your words they weaken me. Your hours we devoted to one another- cut through me. I'm not afraid anymore, to do this alone. Let the flames engulf me, let my skin hang loosely from the bone. Let me drown. Let me fade. Let me waste away. Let me be reborn. Let me live again. Let me find a way back to earth. Let my soul go on. There was a time I thought of adoration when mention of you, but it's now replaced with bitter resentment. In the miscalculated performance, you couldn't be faithful. And now I see- dandelions are just weeds. And now I see- I see everything. The honesty your spirit lacked, the lies you spoke from cracked lips. And the venemous kisses you placed upon my skin, I was poisoned- to think I saw everything from your perception and ignored my own crumbling world. Now, we are nothing.
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Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 11:11 AM UTC
1952
When wisps of dandelions lay still in the blanket of your hair, and your eyes can no longer say I love you, without your lips moving. I know my world has ended. We stood on the porch with the wind chimes blowing songs through my ears. There's still something there through this Armageddon. I recollect the curve of your smile or the shape of your face in every single pool of water I come across. Your eyes had a haunting quality about them, as they look through my hollowed out frame, and see what wars I've fought. It was your time darling, your time I bought. I know, my world is ending. The skin of strangers bone's looks dimmer, and your heart looks darker. When it's revealed in the quiet of our room. That distorted haziness your voice gets when you're tired, is there all the time. I can never help but wonder what I did wrong. Asteroids come hurling towards me at a thousand miles an hour, The world is ending. Just as predicted. Where are you now? Clairvoyant and always knew just what to do. What happens now that I've been left behind. What happens now that I can't pick up the pieces? Your promises never looked more beautiful, than when you couldn't keep them. Lies never seemed more eloquent than when you couldn't stop telling them. Your face it haunts me. Your words they weaken me. Your hours we devoted to one another- cut through me. I'm not afraid anymore, to do this alone. Let the flames engulf me, let my skin hang loosely from the bone. Let me drown. Let me fade. Let me waste away. Let me be reborn. Let me live again. Let me find a way back to earth. Let my soul go on. There was a time I thought of adoration when mention of you, but it's now replaced with bitter resentment. In the miscalculated performance, you couldn't be faithful. And now I see- dandelions are just weeds. And now I see- I see everything. The honesty your spirit lacked, the lies you spoke from cracked lips. And the venemous kisses you placed upon my skin, I was poisoned- to think I saw everything from your perception and ignored my own crumbling world. Now, we are nothing.
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61
It was winter of 2014 And you dyed your hair navy, On accident of course. But you liked it. And you lived for the nights Of turning around the lake As the moss dropped From the tangles of your hair. And the moon shone In the haziness of your eyes While you played back scenes Through the screens of your eyelashes. There was a groaning which lived In the cavity behind your lungs And sometimes it would stretch so far The cracking of your ribs Would fill the deepest silence. And one morning, He stretched to stroke the length of your cheek But the weight of that look Shook you back. I'll never forget.
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Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 9:21 PM UTC
TO FUTURE SELF
*I choose to walk on this arid rocky road I sometimes forget where I belong, in this haziness of unsettled dust my heart filled with fear all along Just round the corner I felt someone somewhere called me, I realized the turns I had not dealt have now become an unavoidable trap. No, I never feared the uphill life is a struggle, with honesty by your side, but sometimes things go against your will mountains crumble and you don't know how to slide. I believe that day has come near when a strange smoke will engulf me and images will start to become clear and I will know I have reached the end.*
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Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
Stepping into the unknown
When from ocean full of tears leaving behind the sadness a drop rises pushing behind it's fear it reaches the heaven through paths of haziness and finally comes down turning into a sweet pearl on our thirsty face bringing a smile on that diligent farmer's face. Down it goes to the crop roots and the seeds we did sow sometimes leaving behind memories as a vibrant rainbow.
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 7:19 AM UTC
A drop of life
I want to be loved right through to my       dark edges where indigo smoke, as mystical as night, curls up to envelope you I want that haziness          to penetrate the fire in your eyes as they mist over two deep pools of wild liquid-colored lava I want to kiss you deep right down to the embers take them upon my tongue       even if they burn Let them smolder Let the frayed vibrations of our union drip into magic Let a new consciousness melt into the realms of our minds in an electric-toned hue of spirals Let the love that has been sealed inside            go ultraviolet           with every single breath and all the poison of past battles burn away to reveal the buds of spring as they burst through layers of ice, of ash of obsidian for even the most tender of shoots can unfurl in a magic that defies the logic of suffering and conjures the language of miracles
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Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 4:24 PM UTC
Conjuring Miracles
I still remember the feeling Of how heavy my arms weighed As I curled up to the risers of the stairs I couldn't pick myself up from After collapsing from the news. I remember eyes staring at me, Unsure of how to respond To the usually stoic and strong me Bawling uncontrollably And heaving sobs wracking my body. I remember cautious hands Lifting my shoulders And dragging me to bed Where I stayed for three straight days. I remember haziness setting in And the following days and weeks All blending into one. I remember all that But I don't remember your face. Funny, isn't it? What gets seared into our brains, And what we lose because for so long We took its presence for granted Until it was too late To remember.
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Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
What I Remember
I massage the black seed oil into my hair love the way it reminds me of my mother's fragrant laugh And the way her soft hands stretch the dough And she sprinkles kalonji onto it where the melting butter welcomes the seeds with open arms I braid this ocean breeze into my itching scalp Thinking of how she would sit me down And run her fingers through my knotted hair After I played outside without a care And I would shriek in pain with every pull, desperate to leave her grasp But she would pour the mustard seed oil onto her palms And I would be transported into her tough love Now I think about those moments, And the pain feels like distant menthol induced haziness Instead, all I feel is my back against her warmth ————————————————————— Kalonji - Black Seed/Onion Seed
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Jun 4, 2022
Jun 4, 2022 at 5:55 PM UTC
Black Seed Oil
he tore, he wore and ran to me, and tried to eat my brains the sun and fun that came before, were drowned out by the rains he left my guts spilling out and a hole inside my head he left my heart spilling out and left me lying dead the life that once was part of me had been turned down to scraps it melted down and seeped out through the earth’s loving cracks he crushed my light pink lungs and i gasped out a last breath he gouged out both my eyes, now with the haziness of death he threw my body to the lake but i floated to the top blood spilled out of my body but i floated to the top few citizens of the town saw me floating away that night but they didn’t report the body, too much of a sight they blamed me for the fact that i was there, floating dead they assumed that it was me, with the hole inside my head upon my blood full of justice, fully full of red upon my eyes full of revenge, fully full of dead
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Oct 5, 2024
Oct 5, 2024 at 11:46 AM UTC
When I Was 11
I feel like I'm the grass and You're the rain, because the only time I grow is when skies are gray We both know this is true, that I'm brightest when I'm drenched in You and Now the sun shines and brings the rays, and Your water dries up and the flames will blaze I need to be soaked in You, to stay alive, or else I'll start dying at the roots, I won't survive Could have guessed the wind was all it would take, to turn thick to thin and fog to mist and rid me of my haziness You left too fast and all I ask is give me back my overcast, I get comfort in shade The heat is beating down and random spots are turning brown I'm warm on a summers day but that's never been enough to make me ok I'm dehydrating, with each moment passing, it seems this might be everlasting We used to have the best front yard on the street, then You left, now it's filled with sticks and leaves, and dirt I'm weak and withered You know **** well it hurts and The weeks will pass and the months will turn from the day you let that fire burn In springtime I hope You'll return with a downpour that will quench my thirst
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Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
-A Cloudburst Sun Shower (or) Saturate, Evaporate, Repeat-
Here I go again Sitting in the corner of my room Staring hard at something I couldn't comprehend. Then all the memories of yesteryears Comes flashing back In a massive plethora of haziness Where the sequence of events Are similar to those of a dream... Everything's blurry, but the feelings Are real... Why do I keep on doing the same thing Each and everyday? I feel caged by my past And the shadows of yesterday Lingers here and there... Maybe because I want to change something; Or perhaps I want to repeat the moments; Back to the times when you're still with me And the feelings were fresh and clear; Back where my days and nights Revolve around your presence... I hate this. Really. I feel stupid. I feel slaved. I want to get over and move on... Oh baby please, set me free...
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Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
Rude
So how did I become the kind of person that I am By changing every part of me I couldn't understand I wonder what I'll find inside the skin that I suspend Or maybe what I've lost is more apparent in the end And where is all the evidence I carried on my back The weight of it has turned it into something inexact A haziness pervading what I once believed to be The only inconsistency I wanted to perceive Secure in all my shakiness but never unaware That I was going down a road that wasn't even there And maybe in my head I thought I'd save a place for you Until I came to realize that's something I can't do
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
Because I just wanted to
*Let me know when your at the sea , And we will hold hands together When the waves try to get to you I'll absorb them into my chest While you protect yourself behind me . Let our lips whisper underwater The ripples our messengers Take our stories to the other ends Sweetheart there's a world beneath Where the sun sleeps in the oceans' cradle At sea there is a calmness I tell you Where the haziness of the heart Will flow away When we leave our footprints on the sands The sea carries them away And frames them for the creatures to see That yes !there are some stories written on her ***** forever to be*
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Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
At the sea
She travelled, Trudged the grasses that once were the reminder of the area she's confined in. Walked through the bleak chambers of her heart that kept her vision captive. Moved ahead, lancing the haziness caused by the droplets that once traced the extension of her cheeks every now and then. Legged it, gasped the smoke of her half burnt desires that once was the sigh after her every failed story. Broke loose from the moonlit vestiges that implored her to get along with the norms she's leaving behind. And now, when she knows what it takes to reconcile the edge of her lips with her dimpled cheeks, you want her retreat? Sorry, but she's miles ahead. Firm and unbreakable. -Aparajita Tripathi
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 6:51 AM UTC
She's miles ahead. Firm and unbreakable.
Like a fire that consumes all before it Like a voice that takes a hold and never loosens, Never lets go of her grip. Like a fire that consumes all before it Rips your insides to shreds, Your self worth into millions of shards. Like a fire that consumes all before it Leaving you stranded and broken Leaving you alone in your world. Like a fire that consumes all before it All of your thoughts and actions All of your pitiful bones. Like a fire that consumes all before it Leaving nothing in its wake Leaving nothing but fog and haziness. Like a fire that consumes all before it Leaving you staring in a mirror, Hating your reflection. Like a fire that consumes all before it, Burning everything in its path to ash, Leaving blood and tears scattered across the ground. Like a fire that consumes all before it Taking your old life in its flames And leaving your body to reconstruct anew. Like a fire that consumes all before it Leaving your future open ended Your crystal ball cloudy. Like a fire that consumes all before it Like a fire that consumes all before her Like a fire that consumes your thoughts Like a fire that consumes Y o u .
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Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 9:19 PM UTC
Like A Fire That Consumes All Before It
the countryside is covered in a blanket of smoke bush fires are burning in and around the Rhynie spoke some thirty thousand hectares of land have been fried farms and parts of the National Park burnt from side to side the fire authorities are working by day and by night to encircle the flames and embers which so searingly bite slowly they are winning the protracted war against the flares their fire fighting equipment quelling the inferno's nigthmare within the next few days the fire shall be extinguished and put out then the countryside wont be covered in the smoke's thick tout the air will be as clear as a bell and less haziness shall stand the ashes in the bushland shall bear testament to the fire's brand
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Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 8:50 PM UTC
The Fire's Brand
Can anyone hear the storm brewing in the distance/can anyone feel the specks of light fading away/flashes of lightning spark the dim horizon. Then, suddenly, changes to the sky profoundly grasp my mind/a storm here, I do not find/instead cosmic colors correlate to relay a certain alteration of reality. A certain distortion that which brings about haziness, drowsiness/with this gentle sensation manipulating the mind, comes dreams of everlasting bliss. Fields of floating clouds which have become opaque and concentrated, I’ve never felt so emancipated/ movement has no feeling, no restraint/ limitless, I have no weight. Moving steadily, steadfastly, ready to finally live, free of bounds/ not a single thought or worry has hit me, as if I simply don’t care for anything worldly. Then I see, seemingly far away as can be, my family straight ahead of me/ waiting for my arrival from the flight that has brought me liberty. I join them on a cloud far below, though a shan’t ask what has brought them such woe/ I’d rather not know, for this is a seemingly endless sensation that I shall not waste, by being pulled by gravitation back to that place. I soar away in a hurry, an unrelenting flurry/ what has occurred, I finally ponder to myself, has occurred, but I am here now, however absurd, and so I shall enjoy myself/ for I have no knowledge whatsoever what this new color wrought horizon brings for my future. My wings, with the span of what seems like infinity guiding me, flying away into this brilliant spectrum of divinity.
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Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 12:29 AM UTC
"Incandescent"
Can anyone hear the storm brewing in the distance/can anyone feel the specks of light fading away/flashes of lightning spark the dim horizon. Then, suddenly, changes to the sky profoundly grasp my mind/a storm here, I do not find/instead cosmic colors correlate to relay a certain alteration of reality. A certain distortion that which brings about haziness, drowsiness/with this gentle sensation manipulating the mind, comes dreams of everlasting bliss. Fields of floating clouds which have become opaque and concentrated, I’ve never felt so emancipated/ movement has no feeling, no restraint/ limitless, I have no weight. Moving steadily, steadfastly, ready to finally live, free of bounds/ not a single thought or worry has hit me, as if I simply don’t care for anything worldly. Then I see, seemingly far away as can be, my family straight ahead of me/ waiting for my arrival from the flight that has brought me liberty. I join them on a cloud far below, though a shan’t ask what has brought them such woe/ I’d rather not know, for this is a seemingly endless sensation that I shall not waste, by being pulled by gravitation back to that place. I soar away in a hurry, an unrelenting flurry/ what has occurred, I finally ponder to myself, has occurred, but I am here now, however absurd, and so I shall enjoy myself/ for I have no knowledge whatsoever what this new color wrought horizon brings for my future. My wings, with the span of what seems like infinity guiding me, flying away into this brilliant spectrum of divinity.
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9
Here is an alternate scenario Since the ideal one is too clichéd 10 years later you walk into a party With a girl who isn’t perfect but you love her for who she is And I look and wonder why you couldn’t love my imperfections like that Even though you told me I was beautiful at my weakest Why couldn’t you love me for it? I see you two dancing in the low light And I look towards my best friend And she says **** it man And I say yeah man, **** it all And I get drunk even though alcohol is overrated and pepsi is much better I do it because the haziness makes it funny instead of heartbreaking And I’m laughing Dancing on my own A complete mess And then I start talking about how I never got guys And then I start crying because I want to be her Gosh, I want to be her and alcohol doesn’t help at all And my best friend has to take me home and tug me in I wake up the next morning We’re back to who we were I never say how much I love you You never realise how much I love you And I get back to saying “You know, I wonder what it feels like to be in love with someone who loves you back” Maybe you loved me back in an alternate universe
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Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 8:17 AM UTC
Alternate scenarios and universes
I'm lucky to have lived through all the times in which I shook when everything was falling and I couldn't bare to look my feet have walked the soil of a slow decaying earth but somewhere in my footprints I have measured all its worth There's nothing more revealing than a step or two in vain 'cause deep inside these bodies we can be as right as rain let water be the words that wash the haziness away the drops of heavy burdens pouring every single day For some the fog continues pulling wool over the eyes yet others watch the clouds become a falsity of skies And those who have caught up with every conversation had distract themselves on purpose, talking always, talking back
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Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 1:31 AM UTC
For years in the breaking
I remember the time I really looked into your eyes; I mean I had always thought they were brown, but when I looked, and I mean really looked, I was mistaken. The fourth of July actually was a time for color and celebration, and as I sat beside you and watched the glowing works explode the sky's veil, I knew I didn't want the flames to stop falling through the haziness of your eyes. Speckled green. The perfect color, just in between all the rest, absorbing life itself. Each laugh erupted louder than the booms in the sky, and every smile was something like the Cheshire Cat, gleaming in the darkness. And once the golden whirlwind had ended, once we walked apart, I stayed humming the tune of your voice as it replayed over and over in my mind. -Julia Aubrey Rhodes-
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Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 5:30 PM UTC
Golden Whirlwind
*The sun melts in misty haziness. I flow with its tranquil mood as the wind from the ocean sends a layer of fine sand from the dunes onto my porch. The dunes whisper to me with the seagrass bending like barley in the late summer. They whisper in the language of the seabirds the salted wind. It speaks to me of freedom and wild waves.. If such choices are permitted when my time here is finished I will return as sand and not dust. The gulls will see me as I fly with them. Silently yet shouting my freedom. In the crescendo of the eternal blowing sea winds.*
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Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 4:57 PM UTC
The dunes
I can still see Stan pulling his hair and off there to the right, Oliver with his, I can never remember if it was a bowler or a pork pie hat, but I kinda like that, like the haziness of a memory that comforts me, it's a part of the comedy of growing up. Once, like I was two or maybe three an eternity ago, on a trike, pedals and a bell, pedalling like hell was on nmy trail, but the word constituent, constituant, ringing in my head, must have repeated and said that word for hours and hours. Mum Said, i had ABC, well that's waht it sounded like to me, acronyms, CIA, RAC,CBI, I went to the citizens advice bureau the CAB, WHICH if I really had OCD, would be the ABC, BUT YOU SEE the alphabet is what we get in tinswith tomata sauce and Mum OF course had the last word. They always do when you're two or maybe three.
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 6:36 AM UTC
A bit of funny.
for a moment i lost focus. i lost focus. began to forget parts of myself that made me me. i lost focus on myself. only to direct it to the temporary world that we live in. for a long time i lost focus of my mind. only to focus on the blur and haziness that is my life.
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Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 9:01 PM UTC
i lost focus