"heaver" poems
I tried to let the rain wash away my sins
and all they did was smear.
Big ones, and not-so-big-ones
swirled languidly.
Not angry.
Not raw.
Just,
leisurely.
I expected gaping maws
to open across my skin,
but none came.
I fell to my knees before
the great make-believe keeper of heaver
but my lips held my tongue prisoner
while my pride sawed at my throat.
There are no sins if there are none to speak of.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 5:30 PM UTC
It’s the way the sun bounces off the gravel and the smell of wet moss mixed
With the edge of old cigarettes and tree sap,
It’s the gap between memories and fuzzy impressions
Of past existences mixed with recaptured instances
And empirical proof that my childhood existed.
In the way light moves heaver through the air there
Until branches from the walnut lift and you can hear scrub jays,
And the echo of cans that rattled
In perfect belonging with the march of smacking sandal shoes
Chasing along black pavement toward dirt roads
And children’s kindred spirits running after water.
The heavy sent of fresh fallen rain on old pain and yellow
Paint and trumpet flowers that play silent music
To the ears of a young person discovering existence
Exploring persistence and resilience and
Coming forth out of darkened nights with the
Resurrected brilliance of the maimed sick and twisted
Soldiers of life from these former generations.
Never has a place existed as hell and heaven
Like this museum of familial dysfunction.
I stand here at junction between, panic struck sadness,
And the will for the gumption to say goodbye
To a past with dwindling survivors
And sour memories. Praying a thank you to dark space
For the fond thought of their wrinkled faces
And a grandeur lesson of all that I want not,
And for the first thing my life to stay in one place
For the duration of its chaos.
Sweet wicked, loving woman ,
The remnants of my childhood will die with you.
I assume I will hide my tears in your memory.
My past my memories myself, I hate the parts I love
And fear a kind of numbness at the loss of you
At the loss of this chunk of myself
And of all the things that will slip my grasp
When so much of my life is confined
To the constantly desecrating atmosphere of my mind.
And when I turn to find
The first cornerstone of my existence,
My support and experience I will
See only shadows and the pasts of real things,
And I will miss you.
Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 9:00 PM UTC
Good night my love
Alone I lay
The heart grows heaver
With the end of day
A wandering mind
In a maze of rhymes
Gathering poetry
From vanished times
Lovers eyes
Slit the night
A poetic mind
Possesses sight
To see the wrong
In an artistic light
Where the beauty
Of pain sadly ignites
And there a spark
In the dread of dreams
A mirror reflection
Of what could have been
While alone I lay
In my dark room
Rocking and a rolling
And a howling
At the moon
...........................
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 8:06 AM UTC
My buddy the quarterback said to go long
music to my ears the chorus of my song
I could easily outrun all the puny secondary –
the guys from one block over on wealthy Dewberry.
We were all better at football on Lillian Street
beating the crap out of those guys was oh so sweet.
Now mulling my interests, passions and such
I wonder why I love football so much
what with a life of writing, thinking and teaching
my football mania seems a tad overreaching
but still my arm flexes watching that heaver
connect in a perfect arch with his swift receiver.
Being Cajun in Texas where sports are king
probably explains something of why I’m so keen
and my pulse quickens as I remember
the neighbor boys’ shouts and calls in September
to meet them in our favorite autumn spot
down the street in that vacant lot.
Most of my life I’ve gone for short passes
connected with ideas and English classes
no novel for me, I fell for poetry
nor did I brave the rigor of a PhD.
Now finally, with my scores of years its not so wrong
to watch, leave it alone, wait a while, and go long.
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 5:28 AM UTC
The waters calm exterior it was serine but
What was trailing back to shore waters in upheaval,
As paddles violently thrashed as If to cause
Pain,
Bruising,
Wounds
That were cut, but as the boat settled moored on
The lakeside, the waters serine angers
Lashing nothing more than splashes on the shore.
"I will swim with your voices give it time,
For the waters are a tomb of secrets,
We only see the surface never beneath,
Fears of what is not known or not of wanting,
"Stop screaming I need your words,
"Don't worry I will not harm you,
"Why did you take me,
"And are you talking to me?
"I just needed witnesses to this,
"I'll take you across the lake,
And truth to word he took them tied up silent
Was his wish, they were in false circumstances
Thinking freedom was near.
"look into the waters,
See what it is that I see deep beneath,
Gazing into the waters eyes focused on what
Faintly seen beneath,
But there spot was chosen, this was there moment
"Sorry I say but last words must swim,
"Waters will hold your spirit it is heaver than water,
"Your words I will bath in souls nourish my flesh,
"You said you wouldn't harm me,
"You said,
"The waters take you I have not done harm,
"Peace and last words will wash over you,
"Silence as you stare to the heavens unharmed,
Treading water like air, impulses wither as
Hands,
Ankles,
Bound,
The water drinks upon the momentary upheaval,
Then all is serine once again, another flower
Planted at the bottom of this whispering waters .
Three days had past, and into the waters he bathes,
They called to him each wave upon shore a
Spoken,
Gestured,
Words,
Only heard by his thoughts, as he feels souls
Washing upon and over his feet, a tiny pull he feels
Speak your words,
"I will listen in water depths,
" I did not, no shame am I felt,
"The waters took you, not I,
Then he sank beneath into the clear airless void,
Looking upon those chained by waist,
Eyes once looking up,
But know looking forward,
Staring,
Gazing,
Dead
Looks of life silently departed, he freezes
As those socket-less voids,
Ascend on his thoughts. Raging he lashes out,
Now those chains of ******* snare upon his self.
Last moments not realised as on knees he is trapped
Airless void catching his last words
"I only wished to bath in your word,
Those that others never heard,
As life seeps from this husk,
In his rage all brought close,
His view is not of the heavens as
Those before he ****** But the dead
Did watch him with blank eyes,
His features frozen as if screaming but never caught.
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 3:58 PM UTC
Brick by brick keeps staking on my chest, trying to test to see if I'll crack. The more bricks, the more heaver it gets. Now I'm drowning in a puddle I didn't even know exists.
Mar 16, 2020
Mar 16, 2020 at 10:54 PM UTC
I once was a Heaver, just like you
Lost in a sea of solemn blue
My boat capsized at an early age
My mind was so detatched I barely remember this stage
Slowly I found my way back to shore
But I sometimes fear I'll end up like before
The night will haunt me still, with things I've overcome
The dark reminds me of what I can still become
So you see, I've had scars where a light is shone
And I've rowed in a sea that was not my own
I have found my breath and now I give it to you
A blot of yellow in your solemn blue
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
And it sang..
Many waters can't quench the fire of love..
They said it to my ears..
I heard it clearly..
Love is like a bunch of broom which can never be broken..
I questioned them, because I can cut a bunch of broom with a cutlass..
They laughed and replied..
"The bunch of broom that represent love is stronger that Goliath's spear"
I heard Goliath"s spear is 100kg when placed on a scale!
I heard Goliath's spear is Heavier than leviathan's muscles..
If love is heaver than it..
How come we put each other away?
How come we live almost all out lives together and when we are suppose to look back in retrospect...
We file for the papers!
How come a six letter word is heaver than Goliath's spear!
I've seen something more powerful than love!
It is divorce!
She has made us strangers
Turned us to liars..
Make us hate the love we once Had..
She has ripped us apart..
She is a robber!
She has made us see nothing but imperfections between us..
If many waters cannot quench the fire of love..
How come the smoke from divorce is stronger than the tides of the sea... ?
Rebecca nneka
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
this small place scares me. suffocating me along the way. i don't know if i can even escape with out feeling my paranoia grows stronger feeling like the walls are caving in on me. will i even make it out alive with no tourn wounds. is this just a joke? is this funny to you when i start to shut down! i thought i could of trusted you as a friend but you thought it was funny to lock me away where it was small and scared. my biggest fear is if any one will free me from this prisonment that makes me feel like its getting smaller with no breath to even take. my anxiety starts to play in to action! when it keeps getting heaver i feel like i'm a scared cornered animal that i'm willing to slash you face up to protect me.
there's no place to escape. accepted suffocated when the small place starts to get smaller that makes me want to go insane.
the small it gets is the scared'r i start to feel suffocated with no place to go.
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 8:03 AM UTC