"hibernated" poems
My feelings are like squirrels who hibernated in my heart. No matter how much I wanna keep them, I know I can't; eventually, they'll go out because it'll never be winter forever...
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 9:31 AM 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
A tiny seed once tarried in stoic stillness
treasuring in its womb
an embryo with cosmic imprint on its soul...
and the tiny seed hibernated to a mystical trail!
Frosty squalls, summer torments, marauding insects –
all came in a cavalcade!
It dreamt the mighty tree
slumbering in the core of its being,
arching over the earth,
spreading its majesty for every eye to behold!
It yearned for the calming lullaby of the rain,
for the burning kiss of the raindrops
to fire its soul,
to caress to fullness the dormant life in its gravid womb.
In silence, it gazed heavenward –
and lo, an intense raindrop tugged its heartstrings
to a melodic ecstasy
releasing the music of the seedling
from its womblike soul!
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 3:39 AM UTC
Meet me under the 'Clock Tower'.......’you said’ cold....
The missing sun hibernated, could not melt your denial
Your promise smudged, felt its docile absence
And I knew....gathered in moss, under the stone of lies.
Mistrust hung itself, swung above the entrance....rivalling
My happy cove. It creaked to a heartbeat....b-bump, b-bump
Shelling out memories like peas. I recalled the very first time
I captured your eyes, the hesitation we felt......to blink and turn away
A thief stole and robbed the essence of you ......no stone
Unturned...I absorbed the waiting, dragged my heavy soles
Where is your foot print? Your imprint prescribed for my wellbeing
Two to be taken each day....preparing the cradles that rock my feet
Absurd, now I look back, that your word of promise...pretended
You named her "Constance", or was that the 'She woman'
I glimpsed you attached to last week. When huddled
Together under your 'love' umbrella, soaked in one another
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 9:10 AM UTC
would
in the screaming breeze,
a whistles sound forms,
in the winds,
the hibernated scorn of hidden violins,
strung together the suspense.
In the aftermath of silenced stare;
the glare from colours crystalline,
the subtle manipulation of light beams,
in nice dreams,
across the shallow lake,
whilst opaque clouds fade, pale.
In the sound of the backgrounds snarl;
in the woods darkness, black,
the music chooses ehoes between branches,
dangling in tone in the malarkey of
the pain of the mandolins gaze;
each pieces together with tiny,
frost bitten childs sized fingers.
The icy touch lingers for the seconds of death,
that last a pastime,
a lifetime of lust,
in the blink of the dust in the wind.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 7:51 AM UTC
Twisted tales come surging
From a mind writhing and purging
In an oft fomented urging
For expressions, pure and raw
That fight repressions, lure and claw
Their way up to the surface
To effect a sense of purpose
But it's really all just worthless. . .
That's, unless you think it's not!
But if you don't: Your brain might rot!
Your skin might bubble, blood might clot
Leaving you heaving bile and snot
Or maybe phlegm and sputum
So your mental stores, you loot 'em
Load these rhymes up and you shoot 'em
Into repressed regression's mains
Into depressed suppression's veins
Until they sing a glad refrain
Of being decoagulated
Platelets become agitated
Now the blood is circulated
And the brain that hibernated
Has awakened from its slumber
Now it ponderously lumbers
With intentions unencumbered
Gotta do it by the numbers
So, them synapses start firin'
Them cortices start wirin'
And belly full of fire sings
Of jelly beans and tire swings
Of silly schemes and flyer wings
On foul mouthed little parrot,
Owners ***** laundry, airs it
Polly want a *******
Just a snack sir?
But old Polly sez:
**** me harder, Álvarez!"*
Look aghast, her husband Ted:
*"Oh hell no ***** 'cause that's the bed
that both we AND our children sleep in!
you've got Latin Lovers creepin'?"*
She vacates the bedroom weepin'
Well . . . that took a drastic turn
To dwellings where disasters churn
So silly, will we ever learn
Or for mere want of learning, yearn?
(Tom, to himself: Go eat food. . . .)
(Tom, back to himself: Good idea!)
I think he left, but I'm still near
As tattered, scattered writing, dear!
So, read me well and read me clear,
And bring some friends to visit here!
Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 1:03 PM UTC
Beginning with the frost and snow,
anticipation extended its tedious reach again,
but it was not right to suffer as the season
swept around the sun. A member of the
fall, like a tender leaf felt inured, by thought,
a humble intellect to serve the usual course
in words and weather, the pride of a
recurring sort. Weary blades of grass
were striving, even so, to grow against
the warmth in the few weeks, and, as the
skirts were purchased in the stores,
investment ruled to favor amiable, cold
breezes. The house grew quiet as the fans
were stilled for a suspense until the
furnace roared. The issue was patterns in
layers from the top, and the claim to the
design belonged only to the way the ice
expanded as crystals of moisture, crazy,
having forgotten how to caress the blossoms
of the shrubs; thus, a pleasure had gone to
sleep, its circulation numbed by
inevitable force, and conditions hibernated
beneath the indelible clarity of the air. The
splendid gyrations of the course became
obstacles harder on tightened joints, while
contestants moved from the warm climate
to the chilling, northern forests. It remained
possible to survive, because there were other
members of the team such as split sticks of
wood and cradles for sprained elbows. It
could not be suitable to grow tired of such a
challenge. When the door was secured, the
roots could relax and spread out like the
tentacles of a squid, beside the glowing hearth,
to read a book or watch a show. Above, there
was nothing left alive between the earth and
the birds, scratched into the sky and dashed
along the lines of wire. Birds sagged and were
swaying while the gusts played with their bony
feet clutched around the cylinders made of
copper and coated with insulation. Warm
currents and feathers made a thatch for a roof
that favored the roots and left them insulated
while around them slumbering creatures had
been forgotten. No memory existed to claim
the cycle of the warm days when the humming
in space reflected the ripples in the shaded
pools. The endless days were the realm of
vacant threads of branches in the chilly trees.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:10 PM UTC
Buildings gently rake stars
As they go by
And the buildings stand up straight,
As I do when I think of you.
The old saying is that absence makes the heart
Grow fonder
But when I’m in that airplane
So high up that I can
See the curvature of the earth
Well!
Travel makes the heart grow eager.
I’m an eager bear
I’d hibernated for so long,
Occasionally waking up to be loved
Vaguely
And drink the milk of the lavender moonlight
Which whets the appetite of my swollen dreams,
That when spring comes
The sun is just too bright
And I just want to stay in my den.
Yeah, I’m eager.
I’m a hungry wolf, too-
Hungry like the desert.
My soul is skin and bones
While my body gets big
Because I can eat my feelings
But I just swallow my empty pride.
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
Crimson Carnations teetering in the porch
Along with the humid air of summertime.
Melodious tweet of cuckoo's at dawn
Stomach filled with hibernated butterflies.
I never believed in love at first sight
Cross my heart and hope to die.
But looking at you for the first time
Your mysterious eyes made me believe all the myths.
And all my hibernated butterflies
You make them wonder
"How it feels to fly!".
Jun 8, 2020
Jun 8, 2020 at 8:02 AM UTC
Like a star in the daylight
Unseen but burning bright.
Like a hibernated bear in it's cave
You don't know the existence hence stand brave.
For the birds also chirp
In front of the sea's enormous burp.
For the Nats also build home
Sadly smashed when you walk or Rome.
Like a fire inside for doing right
The things that bothered when lacked might.
Like inside a prison cell as a slave
For freedom you shall forever crave.
For the spirits inside can hide sometimes
But to ignite them, enough is this rhyme
For now you should get up as I did
Remember not to be your own culprit.
Aug 6, 2021
Aug 6, 2021 at 9:45 AM UTC
Visiting my parents I learned
that I am being played, a game
in which I am board and piece and ****** weapon.
When a picture of me sulky toddler evokes “You always hated me”
roots uncurl hibernated spores stored
through my salad days and youthful spring.
Broach the soil as I **** ankles grabbed,
leg-locked planted firm reaching.
What do you think grows down there? Digging has
turned up rotted fibers, matted hairs and husks.
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 8:00 AM UTC
Sleep for 5 weeks
and tell me what you feel
I slept for 5 weeks
and I'll tell what I felt
Can I tell you about how unlucky bears are
to hibernate
Maybe I tell you that it's like cardiac arrest
an abrupt darkness to revival
Perhaps it's what Haley's Comet experiences
a forever cycle of nothing, that's glorious
That isn't what I felt
Congenital Insensitivity?
That is what I felt
Something that thrives then sleeps--dies, but comes back to life--something forever fleeting--Never feeling that fatal touch.
I hibernated
I had cardiac arrest
I was something that shows beauty, but never gets drawn all the way in
I was consumed with being unwantedly numb
What do you feel in 5 weeks?
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 7:51 AM UTC
During ugly's swarm of cheap prostitutes, don't worry about crushing! Don't let anyone believe you peeed in fear! If every curse-memory and minute-man rushes, a thousand ghosts could throw lasso into your throat every day! Silence can hardly surround you anymore, because you could not come to terms with your Difference! Indifference is listening to you with its great petals! Sooner or later, the World will collapse again, and you will hardly hear the supplications of your wounded soul! Honest prophets are worried about freethinkers and the Sincere Prophets are turning into stray dogs! The chaos-silence of the stars hugs her upside down her ***** the Nirvana-Nothing is still bleeding from the wounds of the earth!
I notice the grin of Mayan-smiling, ********** Angels: as Man sells himself for sale! The restless tranquility of your soul is a privilege and a rare holiday! "You should become one in eternal universe life on your Dear side if you could hear the wide screams of my heart attack!" "This is how you hide in stone silence if you are tensed into the Hangman-smelling, hibernated Time every day!" With fierce fear, atomic bomb angers are also lurking; instead of the right paths, they steer you towards your diverted, cross-decisions!
Your lonely ancestors are named — no wombat puppies and loyal hedgehogs! You have your last solid excuse for yourself! From barely pre-human swaying nights, you can barely hear: You pay with the momentary click of your being when called by otherworldly voices! The horror of your suicide is getting closer, trembling over your head! "You have to be in pain all the time to understand the incomprehensible human offspring constantly censored even in the forbidden phase of your body!" With whom will you share and share the childish cramps of your soul?
Mar 27, 2021
Mar 27, 2021 at 3:02 AM UTC
Fruit ripens on the vine
Sweet
They tasted wet
Smushing on my lips
Like you did, do, always will
The first time I tasted you, I bit
Peeled. Tore. Ripped.
Into your flesh, heart, (soul?)
I was too rough, now I know
...But so wet.
You had to pop, burst,
when your skin slid against my tongue
your eyes on my heart, I was just as vulnerable.
We were both open, damp, nature, natural, raw,
Gushing. The sound was wet
The sound ran like tears, like truths, like
Juice running, running, running….
I remember how it dripped.
How full your softness
yielded to my thumbs which grabbed you,
cradled, worshiped, wanted
to pull words, truths, adoration and
mysteries to my lips.
To consume you. To eat you.
To invite you to become
a part of me.
But the summer ended too quickly
The harvest begins to yield
We watched as vines, now entangled, withered
hibernated, disappeared, napped in the sunset
As full, firm flesh
yielded to silence, darkness, fear
I searched through thorny bramble
to be cut on your thorns
that guard an
innocent heart.
I am hungry. I yearn to know your
sound, sight, texture, explosions
As the nights get cooler,
My summer is leaving.
I pull my blankets closer
each night
wishing they were skins,
caressing skins, hiding bliss
in entangled fingers, glances
and hearts that
I dream of
Sweetness, sticky like honey
comes in summer and lasts
year after year,
bite after bite
strange fruit that
I never thought I'd
find while wandering
misty, drunken twilights
that you've claimed
with nectar that
burns so good into
dark, wooded places.
Lost in misty woods,
you've become what I
crave, desire, long for
cherish
I'll wait to pluck you
from green thickets
the scrapes of thorns,
difficulty finding you,
nurturing exploding fruit
The effort is worth all the work,
With glowing eyes and sweaty palms
Like a child, I am patient
for the first time.
Oh, strange fruit!
I dream of summers
lost in your grove
The mysterious copse
where vines cradle,
thorns please, moons burn
and suns hang above the horizon
drunk from a fruit so
dangerously sweet,
wet and supple with morning's
cool dew.
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 4:33 AM UTC
I hibernated for almost 4 days
Stressed to a breakdown
Reminders of what people want
Money lost
What a taunt
Defeat and anger
you wish to show your weakness
Curling into a ball
Dreams flow
Of what you want and miss in your life
You feel as if you lost
the battle of succeeding in your life
Bleeding from the cuts of debt and your artistic words remaining uncounted
Hemorrhaging to the almost death of your talents was your cost
You try to resurrect your skills and expression to the world
these "bloodsucker" leaches hit you once, again
The fight that's left inside of you
is all that's left to keep this life source from dying out
Now, I'll give back to you what you gave
I refuse to let my love of expression be buried in any grave.
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
During ugly's swarm of cheap prostitutes, don't worry about crushing! Don't let anyone believe you peeed in fear! If every curse-memory and minute-man rushes, a thousand ghosts could throw lasso into your throat every day! Silence can hardly surround you anymore, because you could not come to terms with your Difference! Indifference is listening to you with its great petals! Sooner or later, the World will collapse again, and you will hardly hear the supplications of your wounded soul! Honest prophets are worried about freethinkers and the Sincere Prophets are turning into stray dogs! The chaos-silence of the stars hugs her upside down her ***** the Nirvana-Nothing is still bleeding from the wounds of the earth!
I notice the grin of Mayan-smiling, ********** Angels: as Man sells himself for sale! The restless tranquility of your soul is a privilege and a rare holiday! "You should become one in eternal universe life on your Dear side if you could hear the wide screams of my heart attack!" "This is how you hide in stone silence if you are tensed into the Hangman-smelling, hibernated Time every day!" With fierce fear, atomic bomb angers are also lurking; instead of the right paths, they steer you towards your diverted, cross-decisions!
Your lonely ancestors are named — no wombat puppies and loyal hedgehogs! You have your last solid excuse for yourself! From barely pre-human swaying nights, you can barely hear: You pay with the momentary click of your being when called by otherworldly voices! The horror of your suicide is getting closer, trembling over your head! "You have to be in pain all the time to understand the incomprehensible human offspring constantly censored even in the forbidden phase of your body!" With whom will you share and share the childish cramps of your soul?!
Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 2:04 AM UTC
I tend to
Hope something can be done
as if nothing will ever be done
Wishing
I could've gotten something done
as if I've hibernated for the 15th year in a row.
I'm wishing
Wishing
Wishing
I would just die
as if believing that I may as well.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
I smoked a cigarette in Times Square
The streets seemed light as day
With the full moon joining in on the neon party above
I made my way underground
And the subway rattled and swayed its way to Queens
Then I emerged to see your bright silhouette
Your fingers touched the sky
And I could have held you all night on that sidewalk
I drank tea at your tiny kitchen table
The January skyline sat just outside your window
It was the first time the color grey made me smile
And your tiny frame continues to carry you through time
And in our worlds apart I’ve wondered if your city ever wonders about me
I wonder if you hold our short, quiet life together the way I do
Sometimes I wish it could have lasted
We could have hibernated
The skyline could have watched us from afar
As we held ourselves captive
Forever trapped in Queens
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 10:55 PM UTC
A thought ,for long hibernated,
peeks out of the cave
The void so damped and cold.
Behold the water splashes by
A shimmering river does flow.
Stepping stones, slipping stones
With Long treads, Short threads
Over the water it runs.
Rubbing eyes, it welcomes fresh
And there the green-wilderness!
The jungle of meshed thoughts.
O my poor notion seems so lost
It wanders, it crawls and it mends
For it is the land of forsaken
But owed to ramble, it befriends.
Snarling snares it doth surpass
Move out before you turn into carcass
Merry and alive on road it ravels
Stirring whirlpool in stagnation
For travelling thoughts, let us travel.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 3:01 PM UTC
You've always wanted to tell her,
But you knew it'll never work
So you've always tried to keep it,
Even though you knew you can't
It's like a squirrel hibernated in your heart,
And you knew it won't always be winter….
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 9:05 AM UTC
getting over him was seemingly
never an option
love does not disappear,
love haunts you
love is the source of inexplainable flashbacks to nights that were simpler
us ending...we never ended
in my mind, you are alive
I can see the dimples reflecting the saddest smile
your smell is present at bougey department stores
I am never alone
but our love hibernated
nearly a year ago
yet I am holding onto memories of simpler nights
and embraces of comfort and affection
moving away did not rid me of your existence
you are always here
I am not angry that you have not yet left my mind
but I am angry that you refused to remain by my side
getting over you was a stupid thought
you will always be here
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
Three-quarters past six! Im expelled from the redemptive eden of the dream, because the sobering, dawn robot must begin: mechanical action! Your visions will force you back into your half-hibernated waking dreams! Your clothes are patiently waiting to be pounded and chased into the pounding drum of your washing machine; your body is suddenly saturated with expired consciousness: The Sun began without you!
You would keep waiting for his word to see if you can still hear it, but the outside world is listening outside and hardly answering! In the universe of your skull, the Moon Stars are dizzy before morning coffee; deepening cavities for a smoother future! Wordlessly shade around you the shadows of your ruined possibilities, what couldn’t you grasp?
Many times you sniff yourself more because the insidious lie contained in the uttered sentence is unbearable; organists are raging more and more wildly, hyena-throated pathetic minute-blue people! He who has always persevered, trembled and feared would always like to hide! In the primeval forest of your blood vessels, the channels of throbbing blood streams would be reabsorbed! Your true wisdom is what you keep silent in yourself!
Your things, your overworked organs, are still tired and exhausted, until your metabolism calls for a natural thing! "Who has learned to recognize the moods of his selfish body so that he can no longer snuggle into lying words!" He's still listening to you Whole! The Calculating Parts are listening to you! Do you want to calm down in an even more predictable motion and you can't even know when the Light is shining on the petals of your wounded Soul?
Jan 19, 2021
Jan 19, 2021 at 2:22 AM UTC
As soldiers at war
We arm ourselves with guns and bombs
Wearing bulletproof jackets to protect our hearts
Leaving trails of liquor
As we throw shots in the air
Fighting against pain and it’s army
Taking revolving shots till we see pain go down
And then we rejoice at its fall
Dance with excitement
And live beautifully
But then pain shows up disguised as a gift
We welcome pain in unknowingly
And it begins its work
We feel it holding us hostage from within
Squeezing our throats and turning our stomachs
Tormenting our minds
And breaking us gradually
Till we uncontrollably bleed through our eyes
We struggle with the inward war
And gradually lose ourselves to pain
Laying on the floor with the inability to move
Blinded by tears and hibernated in isolation
But the irony
We become victims
Falling in love with our captor
Holding on to pain as it gets tired of us and tries to set us free
Having a love hate relationship
Torturing ourselves with the struggle to live with pain and let go
And so we hold on to pain
Cause we are scared of the truth
Once pain is gone
We lose grip of what we are holding on to
We finally have to say
“Goodbye”
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 6:16 AM UTC
seaweed stones and sand
layer on layer over old clothes
made me so heavy deep at sea
in a state of survival
i hibernated in frozen waters
till tide took my body to hot waters
i had to rub skin raw
to grow light enough to breach surface
naked once more
i stand back on the island of my own
Feb 27, 2020
Feb 27, 2020 at 10:46 AM UTC
I would have done so much different had I known the consequence of my actions but I was a child and how was I to know?
I understand now things I once had, security even within transience and I squandered, oh did I squander.
Even now I am drawn to the childish impulse to lay blame. It was he, because he hurt me. It was she, because she lied.
Childish impulses to hurt, destroy, scream and cry-
to leap off of the top floor, a memo around my neck with chicken scrawl,
"I regret it all," and oh, I dearly do.
There are many weighs I do not know how to carry with me and so I didn't walk with them, I stayed and rested and hibernated for years before I tried to go outside again.
There are many things I still do not know that I feel an adult should.
I've never understood less in my life.
Mar 12, 2020
Mar 12, 2020 at 1:22 PM UTC