"iiii" poems
i.
mist in solemnity
mutes the sounding
leather bells in silence
ii.
salt surges waste wantonly
gulls guttural in guises
of waifs
iii.
driftwood delivered dull of
deluged dilution
ochre offering to dune's
divestment
iii.
sea glass shivers into
shallow sandy pockets
scintillating color schemes
iiii.
conches lie abandoned
in stands of sea grasses
cacophonous quiet
v.
i am wide awake yet dreaming
sleepwalking
into the
waves
SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/1/2016
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC
i
the
weak mountain
sent it's pale blue streaks
into the river
she accepted by
sneaking them
to their
final breath
in
the
sea
ii
fire
two years
of drought
tear
the source of rain
in twain
the water witches dance like
dervishs turn and toss
for the wine
on
your
table
iii
the fabrics
of the other side
slashed by
a single syllable of
lightning
the clouds cover
the
abashed
face
of
Venus
iiii
press
the world's
face to the glass
and all it sees
is a mirror
an enormous eye
staring
toward
God
his blue muscles ripple
the tsunami spoils
for a fight
the
golden
spires
engulfed in
wet
flame
soulsurvivor
(c) 6/4/2015
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 5:41 AM UTC
i. (2010)
there are eighteen scars in a row above your wrist
pallid and shameful and white as bones and you’ve
counted them
(still do)
under the sheets with your lips moving around whispers
they remind you of empty hallways and
the cacophony of your steps on blue linoleum
and that you are alive the way your breath in pale clouds does
on especially cold days
ii. (2011)
sometimes you dream of colours
(soft and animate and comforting) but
there is only red against the ivory
of your wrist
you’ve read the stories, you know
about the wolves and what happens to girls in red
there are eighteen scars in a row
and you breathe
and you bleed
and you keep counting
iii. (2012)
you don’t sleep much anymore
you fill your nights with the synthetic emotion
of words and films instead and
bury yourself in their comfort
their fabricated sadness
a substitute for everything you should have felt
there is an emtpiness inside of you, a vast
pale space inside your chest
your breath can’t fill
iiii. (2013)
you tell people you’re mending
not even you know what that means
sometimes you trace them
(quietly
and with closed eyes)
and there is only the white of your skin
and the press of your fingertips
and you breathe
and your blood keeps pumping
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 2:50 AM UTC
i.
you are the cruelest person I've ever
met but my heart still beats really
fast whenever I think about
you. I'm afraid if I touch
you I'll burst into
flames again. my
hands haven't stopped shaking since you
left and I never got to thank you for teaching me the meaning of the word
hurt. I found my
poems at the bottom of your
garbage can and I still can't
sleep alone. I
kissed you a lot, and sometimes, you kissed me
too.
ii.
your skin rings up memories of moonlight and
granite, a gaping
desert lying open like
it's as vulnerable as
you when it gets
dark. you have a murderous look in your
eye but you never broke a hair on my
head, you saved every phone log of every time I ever
called you. i heard your last girlfriend got arrested for domestic
abuse and you never wrote to tell me. did it
hurt you more than
I could? I hope you found what you were
looking for out there and I hope you never
lose it unless you
want to.
iii.
something about your
eyes makes me want to know everything about the middle of the
night, I watch you
move and I whimper inside my
head. I haven't touched you in what seems like two whole
lifetimes, if I ever even did at
all. I hope I can again some
day. years later and your music stillI makes my ears
raw. I hope that bullet didn't
hurt too bad, I hope
it brought you the happy. I'm sorry I never
could.
iiii.
we are a modern day romeo and juli
et, it took me two
years to realize how lovely your
lips looked and I'm still wrecking
barriers, I'm still
damning christ. my best friend has made it
clear she does not want me as a
sister. I wish they'd let me
love you because you, you are all I've got
left. I might be the bullet but I will never be the
shooter, I'll take everything on
myself. you are so fragile and i am so
sorry.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
i
is like having your lips sewn together, your voice is trapped in a prison and its sad you see, because you yourself hold the key.
ii
its like having your feet glued to the ground in big crowds, and you feel like everyone's constantly staring you down.
iii
its like feeling so alone in this world, especially when you're just a little girl, and all you want to do is be free and twirl.
iiii
its like being a bird, but you have clipped wings and you can't sing.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 7:16 PM UTC
i'm getting drunk off rain water.
it's been hiding in the gutter for hours.
along with the leaves and tree flowers.
i sing a song as i stumble down the street.
"and IIIII-I-IIII-III will always lo-uh-ve youu!"
it's true.
there's a string attached from me to you.
and hung from it are not-so-shiny stars.
spring has sprung, love is in the air.
i choke as i inhale the pair.
hands entwined with their pail white string.
what if i were to sprout wings?
i doubt i'd stay on earth for long.
i've always thought i don't belong anyway.
i tucked my heart away in a sock drawer.
that's the safest place i could think of.
i trace the scar with my fingertips.
another star fell down tonight.
this town never sees a thing.
i add the fallen to our stretched-out string.
i had a dream in black in white.
where i had caught a beam of light.
and i kept it safe all through the night.
all through the year.
all through my life.
and as i died, as all of us do,
the beam of light died too.
i used to think the beam was you.
i scream to the moon.
my rain strewn across the ground.
i found myself lying in my reflection.
i point my thumb in one direction.
hoping you will soon come pick me up.
i kick a cup left here by a stranger.
"danger", the smudged sharpie reads.
"love is", written on the other side.
i chuckle at the irony-smittened phrase.
i graze over my scar once more.
i swore to the sun i would visit someday.
i'd bring with me my hidden heart.
ridden with love the sun would burn up.
she'd turn my heart anew.
in it will be hope i knew had gone.
and happiness i had given up on.
i dipped the cup in the rain and took a sip.
i held the styrofoam lip to my own.
five fingers grip it tight.
love is danger, this i've known to be right.
i'm getting drunk off rain water.
and stumbling off into the night.
Mar 28, 2010
Mar 28, 2010 at 3:13 PM UTC
***A call from the rills,
The sweet sounding anthem trills,
A sweet melody!
From breezes to wind,
Mother Nature embraces,
Beautiful Nature!
Anthem of praise,
Echos from Mountains to rills,
From meadows to fields!
A sweet melody,
Birds sweetly singing in trees,
The sun shines brightly!
A dome of Nature,
A cathedral of swet praise,
A dome of anthem!
Every creature,
Has it's own sweet song to sing,
Nature of sweet song!
Katydids and bees,
Crickets and the kittycats,
All beautifully sing!***
~Marian~
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 8:52 PM UTC
I
II
III
IIII
IIIII
IIIIII
IIIIIII
IIIIIIII
IIIIIIIII
IIIIIIIIII
a glass bottom boat
in central park
the snowflakes all
have your smile
(their mother
of the ice)
stirred her drink
with a finger
and fell asleep
in the sun
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 10:07 PM UTC
i
I speak my mind in rhyme;
Disintegrating evil on obsidian wings
hell bent Raven no longer sings...
Vaporizing hate, sin and greed
Devil's invasion fills our need...
ii
Raven responds in prose;
I am but a messenger, deliverer of terror, a dismal speck in a sea
of wrong doers. you all have created me with your deeds of
hatred. I am but an innocent bird that was born to sing of
love, freedom and hope.
I was chosen by evil itself, and now you destroy me with
your words, your interaction of good.
iii
I speak my mind in rhyme a second time;
You shall return back to the dust which you came
spreading your words of dread in the Devils name
you'll no longer bask in Satan's game...
iiii
Ravens last prose before his demise;
One day you'll see, it's not me, you're all doomed
I simply deliver what is asked of me. a hired hand if you will.
a deal made long ago with the shadows. the lurking darkness
for which i was drawn. in hindsight i shall never of landed in
the hand of evil, but.....
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 9:12 AM UTC
A being desired by ones heart, or thoughts,
A soul untouched, or unblemished by my presence,
Well now since I haven't tasted her Lips,
Hence buddies now saist that I have dread,
And now be it they say unsophisticated,
Should loving the other be being with them?
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 9:47 AM UTC
i.
your ribcage is not a ladder
for demons
to crawl their way up your body
ii.
your eyes aren’t black pits
in which everybody can see
every part of you reflected
iii.
remember that you are the only person
who can look in the mirror
and see you staring back,
iiii.
you cannot creep up on yourself
iiiii.
and just because blackberries
taste sweet
doesn’t mean they won’t rot
over time
iiiiii
It’s okay to feel like the roots
that anchor you
are mangled underground
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
Not restricted by it. Only restricted by it’s tame. Bright and vigorous! Tempting to be better than a dying phase. Light prompting the taming call of its energy. Becoming more vibrant. Conclusive to it’s claims. Parting ways without mentioning why dying light is its fate. Being tamed. Tempting to hold dear energy supplies for it’s withering gaze. Prompting to feel (it shouldn’t matter). Am I wanting to become more of a spectacle, or something?! I’m a dying light. Not the uptick in brighter horizons. Just the low dimming effect of a once broader frequency. Detesting the restrictions altogether. Nothing better to accept one’s fate. Rather then battling one thinking that (holding on, is a miracle). No! It’s a natural death sentence. And I’ll gladly pay it! If it means I get to be myself again. Dying light pays respects to its own slurring pause. I seeee…I seeeeeee… IIII…seeeeeeeee!!! I’m causing my own fate. Feeling the tame of its restrictions falling off. Like chains buckled to every brightened photon in the complex. Bright and vigorous! Just like last time. This was different. A struggle thinking (what isn’t a self damaging effect)? But a structure of succession! Never temping my dying phase. Which is smarter then accepting varieties. The slurring pause was no more. Restrictions were no more. I am dying light. And I will shine on other broken lights losing their light in self-deluded stages.
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 9:14 PM UTC
i.
this is how we discovered breath:
when broken glass that built wine bottles, cut into our throats and bled rivers we swept underneath bitten down fingernails.
when pleading screams wore down to fragile gasps.
when dawn swept over our shivering, crescent bodies like blankets.
when our knees were pushed to offending places by men, we didn’t even know the names of.
this is how we came, a mixture of spilling bodies.
and these hands we shaped, holding our own mouths shut,
and these eyes, these eyes we didn’t keep open anymore.
ii.
this is how we fought:
with our limping legs and our reaching arms.
this is how we loved:
with nails in our lungs, and red paint,
glued to the tips of our tongues.
because our caved selves both ached for serenity and a warm place to rest our heads,
even if that place meant cold waters,
even if that place meant huddled away in a grave,
at least we would know where to find the other.
iii.
this is how we lasted:
with our spines dug out,
with our lips stitched shut,
with our youth,
laid out on the table,
ready for a stranger's mouth to feast on it.
iiii.
we were crippled, we didn’t know these bags of bones we carried on our backs,
could fly.
that’s why, when our feet met the end of the trails, bloodless and vacant,
we buried them underneath the sad, maple trees, where their roots had never experienced touch,
and we sacrificed ourselves.
That is how we became.
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 9:31 PM UTC
my innocence is unknown
and i do not see
but there is paint on my wall
that does not match the rest
and there is ink in my life
that does not match the rest
and there are hands in my life
that do not match the rest
and your eyes will never match anybody else's
and your eyes will never be mine
but last night, i know what you did.
i know that you kissed my eyelid
and i know that you looked at me
while i was as calm and simple
as you will EVER come to me.
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC
I:
I stopped for breath;
It was earthy, the soil
Was putrid to the touch:
Death oozed out of the cracks
Of the river, bubbling unnaturally.
Life was naught where I roamed.
Squeezing the last drops out of the bottle,
My cracked lips groaned, the silence strangled my memory
Only the weak were erased that day.
Four years ago I think
She ruled herself with a spring in her step
Before the sludge, the acid sludge
Wiped her dreams away
And ushered in the sun of winter
To never see summer again.
II:
Speckled with dust I carried onward;
The terrain flashed with familiarity
As I stepped into the darkness of her home
If you can even call it that anymore;
Her smile is a deep crimson, the blood of the many
Line her barren wasteland. Sometimes I face the winds
Instead of hiding; but they bring those hollow, pale spirits
Ever closer. They only stop
To torment; their whispers perfectly pierce
And destroy the hope I once had.
III:
They tell me sweet nothings and extend their hands of absence;
I cower in the darkness to stop their screams.
The scimitar of radiant light cuts through the night
As I prepare to face the wasteland again.
Swallows, sloes and willows; gone are the days where
They lined the earth and made it smell whole again.
Now we lay motionless in dreams long lost
Lonesome as I was, the ghosts haunt where I once were.
IIII:
The path in front of me winds endlessly;
Shattered and incomplete, it beckons me
To wherever it decides to take me.
For I am naught in the wasteland;
I will wait for her to come back
But the sands of time are not on my side.
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 7:00 AM UTC
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Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
*A bear came out
She sniffed the wild honey
In my pouch
I ran as fast as I could
And she trailed behind
Can I escape her
Dreadful claws?
I heard the sound
Of her paws
Striking the ground
Making me jump
In terror
And running faster still
But never looking back or stopping
Out of breath I continued
And ran up a tree
She tried to climb it
But fell down
I sat up there until she
Left*
~Marian~
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
i
I am an echo
the size of an insect;
wingless and translucent,
I stick to the walls
of an endless mouth
it speaks of chaos,
the world is on fire
everyone is burning
for love
please don't leave...
ii.
Love is not
loneliness
feeding upon
loneliness
The curves
of a man's tongue
as it rests against
the teeth
sleeps
until
it wakes once more
to shatter the
earth
and scare all
the little ones
iii.
If it is not within me
to share a heart, be
it bruised or broken,
be it sealed in black
or lost in fog
It if is not within me
to continue on, limp
blinded by the past,
torn asunder
by the hidden
hands of ignorance
Then it's final
There's no coming back
from the depths below
Fate smiles approvingly
on the guarded animals
of fortune
iiii.
And I feel myself
make it back somehow,
courage the size of
a feline fang;
it's enough
to tear through
the sadness,
enough to get me
by for a longer
while
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 1:46 AM UTC
Burst into tears for no reason,
Except the girls in my class are
******
Rude,
Unpleasant,
Judgemental,
Apathetic.
Burst into tears for no reason,
Except there’s a lot going on at home,
I’m not sleeping,
I’m struggling with money,
My Grandma has gone,
There’s no internet escape.
Burst into tears for no reason,
Except I do not feel well,
My stomach is in knots,
My brain throbs inside my head.
Burst into tears for no reason,
Except I’m overwhelmed,
With work,
And uni prep,
New classmates, classrooms,
And societies to join,
Friends to meet.
Burst into tears for no reason,
Except all of this is going on.
All at once.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
You are the ink in my pen,
The words of these pages,
All the rhyme to my reasons,
You with the smile full and wide
like the country, or the backwood,
The inspiration behind all this,
I’ve carved kingdoms out of my heart,
A fortress in my chest,
Raised my flag in surrender,
Gave way to your love,
Rule as you wish,
I do not want to defend myself anymore
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
I leave you
Stood silhouetted in the doorway
With light spilling onto the steps
Like liquid brilliance, amplifying my dark
I smile, wave and turn on cold heels
My rictus face falling into lines
As my back faces you and then retreats
This betrayal is so evident to all involved
That we make a mockery not to speak of it
As I leave you and you?
Learn closer and put your arm around hers
And whisper words once previously practiced in my ear.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 5:53 AM UTC
What was needed now had to be more important. These things tucked away behind the creases of the forehead. Wandering through the beer garden as it became night collecting glassware streaked with saliva and alcohol, soaking under the nail bed it was sticky. At times knuckle bones contort out of place, dragged by the weight of the things. Yet, slow considered steps proceed. Bedtime has come around, the house cat places his body upon your stomach cavity. There is a knowingness in the expelled oxygen which grazes the face. Something poised. This something never arrives.
At night dreams of mistaken food and drink orders trickle into the chiaroscuro room. They **** and disturb, not allowed to unhinge. Unable to delve deep enough, never touching the soft ground or the dream space. Always aware that the alarm clock would bookend this type of semi-rest.
The morning unravels itself. As if mornings were a ball of powder-blue threads teasing the screens of eyelids. Daring them to follow the traces, the bread crumb led spectacle.
Placing eyeliner upon the lashline at the wall mirror, there in the flecks of light stirred a flicker. Appearing less frosted for specks of breath. Spoke outloud, the first utterance of the day. What exactly has happened. Amongst the bones that set out the arena of her body, it seemed that there was no one there to be asked.
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 6:08 PM UTC
i) One day I was looking around and trying to be like all the girls around me
ii) And then one day I stopped looking
And started doing what I wanted, and wearing the things people I was attracted to were wearing.
iii) And then every boy I was ever drawn to became absorbed into my identity.
iiii) I will become satisfied when I am a chameleon and a kaleidoscope of these masculinities
...Or when I become too exhausted by the process and am satisfied with the journey.
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 11:42 PM UTC
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II HELP P HELP
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IIII IIII AM AM SO SO LO ST
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IIII IIII AM MA SO SO STL
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Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 7:34 PM UTC