"holdfast" poems
Nothing burning,
Just a smoke and a
Small, slowing stream of
Used water from its source,
Done its work.
The could-have-been culprit is satisfied -
Then I had been too sentimental and
Wide-eyed,
Hoping things would finally appear to you,
That they would become obvious from afar
Once the distance between was made,
Once you had walked far enough away,
Seen the blue-grey spirited water bank,
Glittering and tapering against the baffled glade that once
Spoke your name.
I holdfast to these things of repose that have found me since,
And I am gentle in looking back at the place
Where you and I were left,
Unaccounted for and sour,
In the scope of our sorry abscess.
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 2:19 PM UTC
The bone corset strengthens backbone,
offers the fine figure encased in rustled sewn midnight skies.
Tap and swish and sway, the heat increases,
drawing near
arms extended.
A babys' grip surrounds the scrolled neck,
feathers graze in awe, wonder, delight, and tension ignite.
You look so tenderly at carved perfection,
a specter you were before it,
your soul combines with reddened varnish.
Enmeshed you two make the nether gates open,
Welcoming, sweet, harmonic balms.
Rosin soaked fingers,
the testament of your decadent affairs.
You breathe, it sighs, moan before her and hear her cry.
Futile it is to control the sirens song,
inhale the vibrations artfully wrenched from the f-holes.
Holdfast to the bow,
lest you be lost in between the spaces of spun string.
May 14, 2012
May 14, 2012 at 5:38 PM UTC
Some things are
by nature,
most stick to
their ways.
Baboons carry their
dead,
sometimes its for
days.
I've found
peace in solitude,
comfort in a
gun.
Feral cats are
self governing,
they lounge
in the sun.
Holdfast to your
teachings,
cherish tradition.
It's all just an
act,
it's the
human condition.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 7:41 AM UTC
My stiffening fingers found the flowers
hiding beneath the snow,
the edges of their petals sharp with ice.
My broken fingertips turned the delicate flower flesh
every imaginable variation on pink,
and I held a bouquet against my greying skin,
lost in dreams of the spring,
wandering in and out of time and space,
to walk the streets of the city
I had never learned to call home.
I recalled all the terrible dark seasons of youth,
the great evils of the world,
and when I arrived again, at the walls of the city,
I saw it with new eyes, a great harbor
afloat on the sundering sea.
It was in this city that hope had come to live.
Forcing myself from my reverie,
I steeled myself for the trek back to the new world,
a holdfast standing strong against the old.
I left the flowers behind, thinking that when spring came,
my blood would melt from the petals
and return to the welcoming earth.
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 5:22 AM UTC
Be
A Russian
For one day
Whisper
And paint
Icons
Symbols
In gold
Draped in satin
Beware of hope
It will grip you
Make you into a Mongol
Control your mind
Destroy your abode
Invade the holdfast
Become neat
Organized
Fight to breathe
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 9:40 PM UTC
in the taste of my
freshly brewed green tea,
is the essense
of the leaftip,
struggling,
to catch the rays
of the life giving sun.
is the strength,
of flexible twig and wood,
able to bend and sway,
with the winds, that sweep across the terraced, mountains.
is the tenacity,
of the roots that
holdfast to the
mother earth,
from which it grows
is the fragrance
of all things green
and verdant,
taking breath and life
from the skies
in the taste
of my green tea,
freshly brewed
is the gift of life
given, by
the warmth
of the sun's rays shining.
in the pale green
of the liquid....
there is much
to be given...
and,
gratefully recieved,
on a cold winter's
morning
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
Stars fall from the sky
Like tears from the Angels
Who weep in the Heavens
And pray Love will save us.
Electric thought light,
Etheric vapors inflame us;
Casting truth on our minds
To reveal what enslaves us.
Holdfast through the night,
Our humility tames us.
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
i can't
i won't
answer
this time
i clasp
my legs,
holdfast
the line
maybe
You
will just
disappear
as i
cocoon
and writhe
in fear
--
c
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC
Dear Suicide,
What must I do to acquire
that which most I know desire,
for I seek a warrior's death
while I draw upon my last breath.
The war known as life is daunting
and each passing battle is more haunting.
Believe me, to know what would be on my
epitaph is something I consider taunting.
Dear Reaper,
Were you the one that ferried the others away?
You must've been the entity that snatched those that strayed;
A chivalrous display while gifting the ebony bouquet.
Beautiful in its own way, your first impression was memorable
for your limited interaction shall never fade or decay.
I don't mean to downplay your game or integrity,
but ever since my birthday, you waiting for me is quite cliche'.
Dear Afflicted,
This is for everyone who is suffering or might not last.
I encourage those of you who are still breathing
to broadcast your demons and holdfast
upon the candle that brightens what darkness has amassed.
The world is full of people who a seek a sign just like you;
You don't have to be the outcast.
If no one else, let me bear the weight
for my experiences have molded me to this fate.
My shoulders and heart are yours to amputate,
and if your inner demons decide to dissipate,
perhaps the new dawn will come, and we can finally celebrate.
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 7:29 AM UTC
Born into a world colder then glacial tidal waves, yet naked in the sun of tomorrows we forever wait.
Wondering where the light began, how the showing of brightness produced the fractal pattern complexity unending.
Blink, but do not give away illumination for the lone black vacuum tumultuous constant of anti-nothing that cradles all things with mass.
Holdfast to logical constructs that articulate a suitable fashion, not those worn until their withered threads broke the binding of founding to an untested journey of life.
Of, intentional sacrifice of habitual mainstays that dust has long removed the visible passion to once it had belonged.
A burning inside for something tangible that out runs a heart alluding capture at every grasp.
How does one contain a pyroclastic flow of emotions that pour from a soul breaking oceans down to their knees, vomiting dirt and dust, while begging the stubborn clouds for water?
"We owe no compensation for the loss of liquid you horde, for the cost required to return you cannot afford".
Much too is the passion of a human heart, hasty to burn in a quickened rush, ending in an overly lamented rust.
But not all fires simply burn out, some roar, some kick, and many shout, and it is not the fear that they will die.
It is the belief that something ancient pulls through the lone black nothing to those born of even stranger tides igniting a raging inferno.
Showing candles burned at both ends can begin old emotions in young hearts that have never known a solid direction for passions unbound by limitations of vacuum insanity.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
I miss your lips’ bliss on my lips.
I miss your hips pressed to my hips.
Like guiding hands sliding ships,
our curves tighter together... ocean waves flowing.
We slip into one another, both of us knowing,
it will never be about where we came from,
the cost,
the loss,
the impowering a now past superstitious albatross,
but whether in fair or in dark, stormy weather,
together where we’re going.
A purpose-driven direction in life
Beyond measure,
by our hearts’ design,
beating, hidden,
in our chests like buried treasure.
Your warm, bold soul rolls over my controls.
I miss you the instant you’re beyond an inch of distance.
I miss your face,
I miss your waist,
I miss the space you incase around me.
I miss the towering, profound grace you use to shower and ground me.
It rapidly rises to the top of my head, but doesn’t drown me.
Sleeping silently in that dark, soft space engulfed by warm embrace,
my chased heart silenced by all that you are and surround me.
Quivering, shivering, your sultry curves swerving and curling in the dark.
Which each new embark,
a spark of soul fire between us,
clinging beyond the confines of “never apart, never the days, until our hearts depart, never shall they part ways.”
our eyes locked on my eyes,
your thighs to mine,
in this soft, slow, passionate moment,
I know truth again,
my love to thine.
ByR.Craig David copyright 2017
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 1:59 PM UTC
So let us speak plainly now…together
Just this one forever, again
Abound is a metaphor long forgotten
Momentarily mystifying enchantments
Interlocking bittersweet ballet
Held merely with theories of strings
Spinning within missing seconds
Enveloped by contemplation chaos
Into webs of impossible daydreams
Tasteless are such words delivered
Lost on ears deaf to comprehension
Catapult genuineness until hubris fades
Holdfast to chivalry unto death of self
Carry the wisdom of those older
With the fear of those younger
Be true to more than anyone expects
No story is written, but continually forged
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
A hundred feet off the ground,
I'm just at the edge of the cliff,
All I need is a gentle push,
A nudge would do, maybe even
A touch of your fingertips on my skin,
Galvanizing the deeply rooted body hair,
And only when I'm suspended midair
Do I realize that it's a long way down
Cutting across the sultry breeze,
Overwhelming and intimidating,
So I flap my arms against the wind,
So I breathe deeply before the vast
Ocean welcomes and immerses me
And I holdfast my respiration,
Lest the water clutches my lungs
Attempts to suffocate and drown me,
Just two feet above when I look
Around, and I find that I'm not
Falling in love alone.
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 4:16 PM UTC
A single rose, I grab it
Out of curiosity I suppose,
Thorns dig in
Thorns of love, pain and frustration
Yet, I holdfast
For letting go
Is a concept I could not grasp
Even though
This flower is random
As any flake of snow
Blood runs from my hand
A small part of me gone
Forever lost to time
Apart of my heart
Lost to time
Then the rose retreats
Leaving holes in me
None of which discreet
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
Foreign-born
Worn and torn
Belonging to no one
French name
Empty gaze
Plastered face
Blood
Terror and gold
Behold the old
Street
Siren and pain
Holdfast against the night
Temptation will last
No matter the hour
Deliverance a foregone conclusion
Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 9:55 PM UTC
…*never mind the façade,
everything soon comes full circle.
Metamorphosis,
all this vanity fair
will exhaust the sweetness,
and the Child will
cry for the Mother once again*…
holdfast, this too shall pass.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 8:59 AM UTC