"hidings" poems
~and for Harlan, who loved this one best~
*"for tandem is the ever-changing, graying color of their fierce attached tenacity"
waking/walking in
careful pacing regular lock steps,
like new cadets, counting cadence,
in perfect silent, almost motionless,
except for the minuscule quivering of
slightly parted moving lips
these two elders,
still now plebes,
freshmen
but of a latter, graduated stage,
demonstrating robustly
the slow shuffle-along,
a well practiced dance conjured
'in tandem'
her arm, crooked in his,
his other hand,
in protective custody of a
knight's armored chain glove
encasing hers,
he, shuffling just,
a precise, intended half-a-beat slower
lest she ever think
that she, ever be a drag upon him
hair, his,
threaded with daily,
new arriving grays,
proudly accepted
as the privilege of
graceful aging
hers,
disguised with periodic outings,
outings for the hidings of life's bookmarks,
conceding nothing ever to
time's lunatic desire to separate them
modest in dress,
styling hints of pasts' elegant,
the man's hat defiant,
daringly jaunty angled,
a small scarf to handbag knotted,
matching his Windsor knotted tie
the passers-by, all smile,
the signal charm of an
end game processional,
thinking so sweet,
yet mine eyes detect more,
something
hardy and radical
a fierce, fierce fierceness,
both fighters in the resistance,
armed with tandem tenacity,
ground given,
but only inches surrendered,
wounds resisted by
scar skin toughened
by the caress of ions bonding
under the pressure
of atomic level mutuality
worn out,
well past Purple Hearts,
no capitulation feared,
to the ever changing,
enemies' new disguises,
they,
a two person platoon,
each,
having the other's back
and I burst into tears on the street,
a train of out loud moans,
even groans emitted,
like a string of perfect pearls
breaking,
clattering on an asphalt terrain
weeping
not
from visions of the inevitable,
sighing
not
from the certitude of a
cycle's uptime ending*
but jealous furious by this reminder delightful,
angry at myself, for having lost so many wasted years,
mine, the loss greatest, for absent was the
fierce tenacity of tandem
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 8:41 PM UTC
ii.
I have heard Sia's voice
First was on Titanium's music video
Which I clicked out of bore
Second was-- There was no second time
(Maybe there will be)
I cannot remember how Sia sings
All I want is to hear
Holly covering songs
(Somehow Holly reminds me of Zac)
Holly's voice is not the kind of sound
You would fall for in a second
It is true love you will feel --
How John said it is just perfect;
Like falling asleep
Slowly, slowly, then all at once
(I don't know how many times
This has been mentioned on hellopoetry)
I didn't really read romance
But M said (not to me),
If you want to write romance,
Write it like John did TFIOS
(Not that I want to write romance
Or write anything worth reading)
And this would appear as boring
And random, but no:
I remember, M said that
Usually the sentence that begins with
'Honestly'
Doesn't really contain that much honesty
So
Honestly,
Those above (and below) aren't really the things
I wanted to talk about
(It's confusing, if you think about it more)
I don't know anymore
How many times this Sia's Chandelier
(Holly's cover, of course)
Has been repeated
(Over and over again)
I remember, my favorite before this was
Marina and the Diamonds' Teen Idle
I remember Holly cut some part of the lyrics
It reminded me of Zac
Or was it Gwen?
I really like mixing up things-
Really
I like being here
The locked door of the bathroom
Makes me feel safe
And the toilet seat
Has known me
Better than myself
It is like a mother, or an other self
Who just accepts me for who I am
It knows the most of me
How I move, cry, and smile and laugh
How I sing, how I scream
Even how I grow, how I fall and die
How I tried to ********** and gave it up
How I became me, how I am me
And not only hows but also the tiring whys
It knows
It accepts
But I will leave
Soon
And this bed and this messy room
And the hidings and the accidental leakings
And the family's warmth and their love
I will leave
Soon
Sorry not sorry
That I am happy
To leave
Soon
iii.
There is no place to hide
So **** false identity
I will soon be forgotten
So **** shame, **** filter
They say people are people
Because of their secrets
Because they are mysteries --
It's my wish to be nothing
I want to let go
I want to let go
It's hard to be a human
I am too complex to be none
I once thought
I wanted to be an amoeba
And I think I still want it
It is a lot better than to have these organs
Especially this brain
I don't like this brain
It manipulates me
It controls me
It thinks for me and without it I am stupid
When would I be free?
I want the freedom to think
Brain, don't control me
Let go of me
Let go of me
All I want is honesty
I want truth
Live in truth, breathe in truth
Know only how to
Say only the truth
**** fears
I am afraid
To be nothing
To tell anything
To know anything
When I made this account
I forgot to rehumanize
People other than me
(Not that I did rehumanize myself)
I didn't expect you all
To be so human
**** fears
I am afraid
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
The salty sweat of his chest
lingered on my lips,
so I tasted
pulled into the depths
of all his discovered
unknowns
my crevices of happy findings
warm tidings
delightful hidings
shut eyes, thoughtful, reliving
memories, flood of pleasure
losing control
I could smell his savage desire,
anticipation giving me chills
we find an everlasting truth
that even though
this distance will remain
we're bound through many domains
and no matter the end result
you and I
can't feel this real
from any other
s.q.
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 12:47 PM UTC
I am breaking.
From good to worst.
I am begging,
for sweet joy happiness.
Words left unsaid, inside me.
Feelings bottling up.
Help me, please.
Do not push me away.
I am running out of ways,
every passing day.
It gets harder,
with many broken promises.
No pretense,
No more search for hidings.
I never felt this alone,
never before.
I need help,
I need cure.
A hug.
A listening ear.
A shoulder.
A friend.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
Broken relationships unlike broken bones
don't make noise when they crack,
neither do they shriek out of an unbearable pain.
Their sequence of suffering is different,
beginning at heart with
a discomforting pain at the edges,
moving towards its center and strangle,
spilling the torment from eyes
Broken relationships unlike broken bones
cannot be healed with a plaster cast
or feel better if put to rest.
Though, they unknowingly do repose-
anticipate healing,
which is only a woeful void,
filling back with stronger protests
and irrevocable agony .
But once broken,they all are same
splintered and dejected,
desperate to gather but feeble
seeking refuge in the days of healing.
And once repaired, they are no different,
cracks heal but scars remain,
like trophies screaming the struggle.
Forgotten pain stays nestled in disguised hidings,
longing to come back with a slightest wrench.
Be careful!
-Pallavi
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC
Find me a window,
Find me a door,
Find me a corner
To hide in
I need to escape
This unfortunate life
My house, a building
Not a home
My sister's are my rock
Parents.
Well what can I say?
ENEMIES
What is a family,
When there's no love?
It's emotional
It's my stability,
Well maybe not.
When can I escape?
Without any money
I can only hide
Hidings what I'm good at.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
Fiercely, this battle I’ve fought
Still this evil won’t stop in my thought
I’ve tried curbing it with some discipline
But my mind won’t just stay clean
A voice in me says “by strength shall no man prevail”
It’s blur! Lord please remove this veil
You must loose it
To get it fit
My mind? I asked
God, that’s a difficult task
It needs renewal with the Word
It would keep you connected, serving as a cord
Erasing every evil from its hidings
Filling your inside with living findings
Giving you an every-time check
So as not to head for a wreck
Consciously dethrone every idol on your inside
Placing your motives aside
Leave your ‘direction’ to Me, like a sheep
And your winning will sure define cheap
I’ve given you a mantle
And at its instance you win the battle
A longtime ago I got you the victory
You’ll be assured by going through the history.
- David Omodunmiju.
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 5:56 AM UTC
Your father was guided
by his moods. You were
non-plussed why he could
go from harsh father and
good hidings, to thoughtful
father talking of holidays
and joking with your mother
instead of battering her. We
sat on the grass in front of
Banks House. We shared
a bottle of lemonade bought
from the grocer shop up
Meadow Row. You twisted
the top and took first sip.
I wiped the bottle top with
my palm and gulped a few
mouthful. I had seen your
old man that morning on
the concrete stairs of
the flats. He spoke where
usually was silent; joked
where normally he would not.
You cleaned your glasses
with spit and the hem of
your dress. I gazed at you.
Your hair like your childhood,
unlike mine, was a mess.
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 11:08 AM UTC
The change in his habits was hard to define,
He thought, getting older, had shortened his time,
Less time to waste sleeping, for rest or respite,
From eight hours to six hours, to four hours at night.
He’d sit up late working, and not watch the clock
At midnight he’d vaguely hear something tick-tock,
But still would sit up with his eyes full of rue
And not get to bed until one, maybe two.
Awake before dawn he would feel some relief,
That death had not squandered his life in his sleep,
And though he was tiring, he wouldn’t give in,
Began to see sleeping as some kind of sin.
Then down to an hour, and then to a half
He ended up napping short time by the hearth,
Five minutes would pass, he’d be fully awake
When under his chair he would feel the earth quake.
And when his eyes opened and looked to the skies
He’d see giant gimbals above the sunrise,
That held the earth spinning in place like a top
A gyroscope, seeming it never would stop.
Then in the dark hours when all were asleep,
He’d see all the monsters come out for a peep,
Come out from their hidings in forest and glen
Whenever they hadn’t to fear meeting men.
They’d play in the shallows, they’d play in the streams,
They’d dash in and out of the sleeping mens dreams,
They’d laugh and they’d frolic up high in the trees,
And wave in the branches with every slight breeze.
And sometimes they’d argue, and sometimes they’d fight,
Hip-hopping from one to the other all night,
They’d not see the watcher, awake in his den
For monsters see horrors in all kinds of men.
The world would return to the way it had been
Before men came begging, and made it unclean,
With meadows and grotto’s and magical spells,
And hedgerows and sedge rows and woods of bluebells.
He sat there in wonder, and watched the full flight
Of worlds unimagined that came out each night,
And suddenly death was the least he would fear
If death would come dreaming and carry him here.
The watcher relaxed and he fell sound asleep
He slept for eight hours with never a peep,
And when he awoke with the rise of the sun,
He wept in his sorrow, what sleep had undone.
David Lewis Paget
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
Tell me can i make a place
A place where no one will ever find me
Tell me can i make a place
Where space and time are nothing
Tell me can i create
A secret new dimension
Tell me can i create
A place to i'm alone and free
Tell me would you discover
My secret inner hidings
Tell me would you discover
The place i would hide forever
Tell me can i start over
It's the only way out
Tell me;
I want to know
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
And now
when you are beaming
like silver lightening
on a dark cloudy night,
so proud and unstoppable.
i want to be just to you
for you are
the symbol of the wisdom i learnt
the proof of the skills i honed
the process of shedding blood and sweat
to be what i have become
Let me not keep you behind the pretentious colored hidings
I have decided,
You are free to stand out
like i do
~ to my would be grey hair , Pallavi Goswami
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 6:05 AM UTC
You count them like the blessings
they fall down from the sky
You wear it like a dressing
and you think you'll never die.
You can cover it up for ever
It rots, hidings not clever
Infection will be coming soon
and you die by the charge of the full moon.
Yes you were pulled into a losing battle
Because you refused to change
and when you slipped of the saddle
You still couldn't grab life by the reigns.
The ocean climbs the earth
and we have learned to respect the tides
But You will turn back to dirt
if thats the place you try to hide.
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC