"inclining" poems
I want to learn everything; everything comprises of everything,
be it the knowledge of the nature or the horizons of the cosmos
I want to canvas over the universe, multiverses;
to paint my reality with a brush of joy.
But, it's tough for me, because I'm dementic
If I decline it while inclining towards a book
Dyslexia obliterates my desires and hurt me badly
If I ignore all this, ADHD comes forward to poke me
with a stick of astounds and pains of eventide
If I cut down the roots of ADHD, S.A.D greets me
and enter to my dark world and enhance its darkness
I'm confused, shattered; directionless in a myopic way
Highly myopic, no direction, but I do have vision
I want to crisscross my myopia to an extent
where it diminishes.
Meningitis, shut up, you *******
Please have mercy on me, I don't deserve U at least,
But do I really need someone to have mercy on me?
I guess no, I can build my own world where
Dementia strengthens my spirits by saying,
Why just Embryology, what secrets do you want to find
Ova is not dependent on a ****** *****
it is a complete YOU.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
i. picture this, just for a second. instead of waving from a mile away, we walk up the gently sloping hill together, side by side. the sky sheds its bruises above us. we could hold hands, if you wanted. what do you see in the morning clouds? tell me what it felt like, to swallow a star.
ii. i think of you all the time. i’m getting used to the weird volcanic eruptions in my chest when i see you leaning against the front gates at school or lacing up your shoes or when you tell me how much you hate durian, or whatever. you’ve got a habit of inclining your head slightly when you say “all right” or “okay.” i’ve noticed all kinds of things. i wish i didn’t.
iii. but tell me more about yourself. what’s your favorite color? do you get along with your sister? are you content here, with me, lying on a vast expanse of green on a dying planet, or do you still dream of colonizing a different soil? where do you go, when you get tired of running?
iv. here. give me your palms. look—your lifeline, strong and sturdy and sure. i’d like to trace your veins with sharpie someday (or perhaps even with my own hands, if you would let me). when you cross the finish line next week, maybe you’ll throw your arms up, the universal victory gesture, and maybe you’ll think of me the same way i think of you. maybe. just maybe.
v. so let’s ditch the world tomorrow and get coffee together after school. let’s tell jokes and forget everything else exists, and no, you don’t have to worry about the bill.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
Alice, through the looking glass
I saw her fair, I saw her fast
Her smile like the distant past –
A mem’ry safe and sure to last…
---
But suddenly her smile turned
Her stomach ached, and quaked, and churned
And sweat rolled off her brows that burned
When, in that moment, this she learned:
That deep within that pretty face,
A haunting, hideous, out of place –
Dark and dreadful, dreary trace
Of ash and gnashing was innate
Innate in her! She saw it so!
A pushing – pulling – undertow!
Inclining toward the hollow glow
Of outer show, the inner woe
---
Alice, through the looking glass
I saw her fair, I saw her fast
Her smile like the distant past –
A mem’ry fading when she passed…
---
When she did pass from death to life
Beholding pure and perfect Light
Without a sight, but in the night
When sun arose, and shone so bright
So bright that every Darkness did
Fly and flee – it scattered, hid
From deep within her heart that bid
Her to remain in shadowed sin
Yes, He – the Good, the Faithful, True!
Made her new – through and through!
And Alice, she’s the hopeful view
In the looking glass: me and you.
---
Alice, through the looking glass
I saw her fair, I saw her fast
Her smile like the distant past –
A mem’ry safe and sure to last…
.
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 3:43 PM UTC
During moments I yearned for forests grown for me alone,
Caressing them in a dream,
I could sense the throbbing of the heart
Hidden beneath my ribs to bless my journey.
Summoning me with a pulse that he recognizes in me.
I heard the noise of abandoned smoke from a moment of care
Join with me,
Forcefully traversing desires to the hidden-most one.
My spirit swung toward him,
Creating a tingling
On lips that devour breaths alive.
I felt ashamed,
But the eye,
In moments—I scarcely know what to call them—that took me on another route
Toward the television, saw warplanes . . . spray death on them.
At that moment,
The fire of machine guns raked all the bodies,
And another fire raked my body when I trained my eye on him
Hesitantly inclining his head
Toward a shoulder unaccustomed to the secret of the stars of war
Or to insomnia.
Oh . . . . I leaned on it!
And when he caressed a dumbfounded person
I felt his fingers like coiling embers inside me.
Bashfulness seized the excuse this caress gave . . . and vanished,
Eliminating distance till the two of us were one.
And the eye—he moaned: May love not forgive her the eye—repeated another evasion
Toward a drizzle of men flung about in the air by just the rustling of a pilot penetrating a building
To fall on screens as the debris of breaking news.
But his breaths . . . shattering the still down of the cheek,
And turning their picture into mist as
Eddies of the screen’s corpses . . . varieties of death that they brought them.
The spirit that became a body,
The body that was sold for the sake of a touch,
The eye that was concealed in his image
And that approached the firebrand of conflagrations.
Everyone drawing close to everyone,
Everyone,
Everyone,
Everyone.
But the thunder of their machine guns splintered them:
Corpses piled on corpses,
I mean on me,
The eyes of those in it were extinguished.
They slept in a trench of silence.
My eyes’ lids parted in a wakefulness obsessed with them.
I rose … and embraced the chill
That the screens brought me in commemoration of Stalingrad.
………………………………
Translated by William Hutchins
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 10:38 PM UTC
I.
Waves crash into roiling warmth
Foam settles, slows, then stops—
a moment’s pause,
the bottom of the ocean’s breath,
waiting for the pull back to sea.
Receding, a grief:
friction twixt the sand and water,
the wave inclining to gravity,
sinking through the grains.
Each touch a bond—
temporary, fleeting—
lost to the reliquary,
in every wave retold.
II.
So grief lays down
its film of salt—
to remind the sand
of what was and soon will be.
Each crest a vow
that cannot last,
each fall a promise
to begin again.
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 12:17 PM UTC
Our empty syncopation's are patiently ambushed
By restless margins of undeclared territory;
Shivering cymbals, entraining cloistered memories,
A nimbus inclining toward unredeemable quarries:
Refrains unimagined, of star-tipped dawns
Upon certain days of ritual, unbelievably worn.
Breathing dragons of fire-squandering meridians
Pour round water upon semblance's drowned emotion;
Cleave then to me, who cleaves to the last vestige
Of rarefied air, breathed by bellows-smothered centuries
When your foot trod the newly opened ****** earth,
And your hand hinged loves diagonal, even unto death.
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 12:15 PM UTC
It slips,
this new surrender,
past the rusted locks
and caution signs
and crumbling roads
of cul-de-sacs
and vacant lots
and open tracks
to freedom;
where conundrums play
and secrets huddle
and bodies lie
and youth decays,
retired past expired days
Engraved in time,
cocoons and shells
and nests are hung
and quartered for a chance at love;
the way ahead,
receding,
half behind
and part enslaved
(a mask of promise worn from birth to lucid grave)
And,
like an avalanche,
it falls in quick pursuit,
this multiverse of
filthy guise
– of liquid paths and dangerous eyes –
and ruby coloured blushing cheeks;
where every lover’s
heart of sponge or stone
descends to meet . . .
heating,
for another touch
beneath the fraying sheets
And all the while
in rush and glory,
time,
********** moments
as it passes, flies away –
manifest instead as flesh,
(again)
with wings that only beat
to re-transcend
and scar
and mend in
pounding,
swollen,
rhythms,
c
l
a
w
i
n
g
for the warmth of smothered distance:
roaring
for a welcome end
So,
spaced between
the tics
and tocs
of darting pain
and thrusting *****
of ***** aroused, abused, and shamed,
a silence, near, deploys again
the ever caged
and emptied song
and lusting shame
of mouths and tongues,
inclining, fast at last
to go
from whence it came
to soak the mind
and strip the soul
and blur the lines
of time and toll,
buried,
in surrender, whole
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
~
*abruptly waking to discover
the sempiternal daylight of herself
in a small silent village in Brussels
the sky's a cloudless blue
and she needs the sun
like children need two parents
sunglasses conceal bedroom eyes
smiles hide like inverted *******
clothed in peekaboo milieu
a highly individual creature
in an era of the exaggerated curve
she's an amnesiac
doodle-dawdling in the altogether
wrapping herself around
mise-en-scène
it's breakfast with Mr. Svengali
then unacquainted foothills
and undergrowth
in the flaring of conjugal
light and shadow
hum
thrum
'n strum
she's got the whole wide world
in her hands
her simple slantwise silhouette
declivitous neck
inclining embonpoint
summoning him
no clock, no watch
the keeping of time
is served by rapping
her crown upon the headboard
at regular intervals
her open-tempered sighs
closing with the heaviness
of a sleepy hush
until the echoing of church bells
announce the footfalls
of tomorrow-come-looking*
~
Aug 26, 2021
Aug 26, 2021 at 3:02 PM UTC
You are still keeping heavy arms,
You did not stop explosive devastations,
The earth is clamings trials – not once,
Have troubled vital forces for whole nature,
United Nations orders been ignored,
Intrudes feeling free for invasions,
Increasing wars revising what agreed,
Incoming time inclining independence,
Indifference for all asleep,
Discourage poll possessions intentions,
Remaining backwards countrys in need,
Would left among nations in faceless,
Despite foggy announcements on stand,
Among the stars would shine the planet,
Don’t leave your children on the sand,
And face cold judgments for a wild,
Pretending for the future bright,
Its hard to watch hearts children crying,
Forgiveness doesn’t have a chance,
Missed way to all the human kind
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
Oh that your hips lock to the crevice of my interchanging mute fragility
that I may become a part of your absoloute screaming
inclining infidelity
that I may wrap my cotton black sleeves around your wrists
and have you hum some old lullaby that your mother
use to sing to you when you were a child
mourning down at the pastel lake
where the waters scream its wonders and secrets
that hold something in the deeper side of you
I'm casting the debut of our lives on a pictionary mind
where thoughts interlude and transgress
every now and then and I am eluded by your watchful glare
into the raindrops that fall into my naturally black hair
I am subtle and hollow in your speech
calm and protective
on defending my own means
of living
oh there you are and I am blinded
all along
invisible with the cloack that I saw
hanging on the sides of your face
imaginary- beautiful , envision no pain
nor disgrace
wrapped in sheets of warm weather
and cool breeze
needless and the most needed
uneeded needs
my cheeks are red sunkissed by the shine
of everything surrounding me
completely bewildered knowing this is mine
bare I hold out all my caged animals
to seek your truth
hidden under gardens of possibility and crime
my mind
I see
is on the edge of extingtion
when drowning in all the different skin
I wake up early on sundays
from the sleep of dead
and open my chest to take and impignorate to all the precious
flowers that I will keep my eye on them
while I master the language
and you master the art of gaze
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 8:43 AM UTC
What dreams I have had of you tonight, my dear
to keep you alive and well in my head,
and are you alive and well in the world?
Out west somewhere, here and there,
on a farm, working for food,
and is the food working for you?
Gotta get out to Colorado one of these days,
climb a tree on the top of some mountain
and gaze out at the features and structures,
all far arden-like.
Are you tied down tonight?
By the perfectly designed sidewalks, and efficient chimney pipes,
tied down by:
cute suburban life, and duplicate blueprints,
tied down by:
pancake shacks, and sporting goods stores
tied down by:
someones misused, overly abused, grimy ****** string?
O’ Colorado where are you tonight,
and what dreams I have had of you in her absence.
Colorado,
where the rivers run far and wide
and the mountains are all on your side.
Colorado,
where I lay my land to dry,
and hold out my hands and cautiously cry.
Colorado,
where all humanity comes to drink.
Colorado,
where we gathered in the hills
not to find wealth, purpose, or the answer.
Colorado,
where riches take a different form,
and souls are free to mourn.
Colorado,
a quite, peace-driven, place… where I long to be.
In the calmness of the current,
in the atmosphere of river life,
in the drowning of the soul and mind,
in cool mountain breath,
in the welcoming brook - not fearing death
in the mouths of fish and under soft mossy stones
in the presence of inclining slopes, and the breaking of bones,
in soft pale earth with the dirt and the clay,
in the tall *** woods where the deer like to play,
and all the rest I forgot to say.
Gotta buy me a boat and get out west one of these days.
Get out on the river,
and just drown my soul for awhile,
live raw for awhile,
beans and rice it for awhile,
get down and see her for awhile.
River as my friend,
a cold and calculated trend.
Every turn: precise
Every depth: nice
I’m on the river now,
and the river is her.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
I am not alone here, these words accompany
Always close at hand, sitting right next to me
Ringing in the silence of the room behind closed doors
Bouncing off the walls and off of the hardwood floor
Tenderly caressing what is left of my heart
Nudging my hand to the pencil, telling me to start
Wiping tears from my eyes and connecting the drops
Presenting the painter poet with a vision of art
Not today, oh not today, the sore is much too deep
The artist in me cries that the fall is much too steep
But inspiration beckons me this grim and lonely night
Inclining me, between the tears, are the words which I must write
Goodnight, Goodnight
Each and every etching is a tearing truth to me
Falling again and again into a tragedy
But on I go as pain does grow and ease at the same time
Escaping my mind and etching on my heart with every line
This is not depression, this is a cleansing thing
See how the words choose to echo love to me
A losing game, a crying shame, a message wrapped in tears
A courageous allegation surrounded by constant fear
I will be done wih my sitting with my words soon
As they float in the midnight sky up to the moon
I will never see you again inside the tears I cry
Only in the words on paper that you left behind
Goodnight, Goodnight
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
The keys and strings and knobs and bows taunt
Horse string, shining metal, ivory, silver, and gold—-
Glimmering,
Beckoning
Inclining me to use them
To take them, stroke them, slam them
Abuse them
Worship them
And in my mind
Their chords with flats and sharps and crescendoes and pianissimos blend
Dissonance and perfect harmony battle ferociously
Or perhaps they are dancing?
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 8:54 PM UTC
She slipped away, right through my fingers
I watched her and was powerless to stop it.
She poured through my hands as if water to the sands
I couldnt retrieve a single grain from where she left her vibrant stain
She was, or so I thought, a way out of this dismal place
Now here I sit longing to run my fingers lovingly down her face
She sits there now, far away, across the room deepening my gloom
I reach for her from afar to feel her arms save me from terrible doom
I watched her slip away and vainly wished her stay, in fact I even begged.
Nothing, not a grin or glance or stair or inclining of a care.
I sit here more confused and feeling somewhat used, knowing that I cant have whats being sought by the bleeding ***** on the floor under the boards creaking and groaning. Its all I hear, the constant fear, that she will leave. My heart on sleeve is waring out its welcome kept so I dont pout.
I watched her slip away, the sand simply moved to swiftly for me to keep pace. I could not see past the feeling in me to simply watch her walk away and always in my heart stay. So I reach for her hand In hopes that she will take my heart instead, but I must have hit my head, cause Im fuzzy inside but heavy and insecure.
I want her for my own but her I can not have for her affections are not just to me but to another whom I see as a brother to the likes of me. Now I find myself in the same boat I was in as a knee high to a grasshopper, loosing what I want too a longer time from start and Im trying not to fall apart.
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 10:16 AM UTC
Blades scrape across calves
Itching, irritating,
Children shout and laugh
Imitating, inviting,
Warmth burns and bakes
Igniting, inflicting,
Rippling shadow cast South
Imprinting, imposing,
Yellow dandelions stand tall
Intermixing, inclining,
Brief, cool wind tickles
Invading, inducing
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 8:08 PM UTC
i
finely found the courtesy
to
read a word of Poetry;
even though it only left me
questioning the Meaning
of the
feeling that it Founded,
endowingly inClining me
to
climb the highest Mountain:
loudly it inSpired me.
writing is my Dowry,
reading is the Marriage
that i
cherish at the merit of
disparaging Diaries.
"i am just a Parrot;
a
parently we share the very
arrogance n carelessness
of
barreling Pirates."
i am just a Sparrow;
rowing over galleries
of
shallow hailing Peril..
..Paralyzed.
"i am just a Shadowing,
Shattering glass."
gallantly we Gather;
"glaringly Gradual."
happily we Harrow.
"inherently Hollow."
powers of eXistence:
symbolisms Tower over
flowers of Ivory.
"i am a Shower".
hours of Shadow;
over-cast horizons
like the
rising of Talos.
"Talos was a GIANT."
i am a just a Cane;
able to be Slain;
david and goLiath.
"i am leViathan."
i am just an Angel.
"April"......May.
Copyright Jesse James Adams
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 2:32 AM UTC
The subtle act of meeting
old friends with lines on my
face, pock and blemish
dominating the right side of
my face, left to them. Swing
left if you've an inclining.
How many times have you
reached out to a friend, tiny
gestures or grand statements
that state the grandeur of
relationships, twos and threes
and dates and early mornings.
Left to myself in bed I sleep
and toss and dream of friends
I remember and forgot about,
not but a text message away
from a rekindling, idling in
neutral and there's a hill ahead.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 1:50 PM UTC
I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleads
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
You wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or is it the lack of her which brings me sorrow
Is it the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
My poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 10:43 AM UTC
Growing up
They tell us two
Things at the same time
To enjoy our childhood but
Also to become adults as fast
As we possibly can and we ache
From the failures that shouldn't be
And the lines that slowly weave through
Our foreheads give away our inclining age
Life is a sordid battle of sorts and an awkward
Amalgamation of feelings without names and people
Who come and leave when they fancy and trust is all it takes
To make and break a person standing on the edge of the sea line
Waiting to dive headfirst into the unknown because ignorance is bliss
And nights contemplating death are few and far between but they do exist
But feelings exist for no raeson and reason is an unwarranted current
For we strive too strongly to incite logic into everything we know
And strip ourselves of reckless decisions for solemn strictures
What if we left our feelings alone and accept that they
Unlike us will never be gone and wrecked or ever torn
Life is the awkward waiting game for the end
And that will come soon enough
But till then we must live
Fully and greatly
Rush not and
Hold on
Tight
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
It's a showdown,
in a no girl's land...
Come on devil,
I got a gun,
let's have some fun...
There's never a plan,
in no girl's land....
Also I am the drifting
Shifting astonishing
Sound clerafying
Inside dull dying
Drive is inclining
Street corner climbing
I am rythym still smiling
Front row front porch reclining
Future promising
Rose and candles piling
Harsh pile in
Pack the club stylin
I'm Royal and wildin
WiLDing out now and theN
Now and later and stay again
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
There is a place
In my mind
Where time
Melting - into an endless moment
Stretches out
A gently inclining road
That rolls over
The flat bands of grass
To a point
Where it meets
The overhanging sky.
There is no end.
Only this journey.
And it does not need
To bromate through the cold spells
Or wait for the perfect moment.
It does not cling
To things
The way we do
Bending our lives
Into the shapes
Of our hurts.
It only flows.
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 5:20 PM UTC
One step
And I fall
So easy
So simple
So that's what I do
I fall
Down towards the thrashing rocks
Dipping in to the freezing depths
Inclining my head
And thinking of all that has come
And will come
Come to an end
But I don't want it to end
I've decided it's too soon too late
I want to drag it out longer
I want to savour the salt on my lips
The thrill in my blood
But it's too late
It's always too late
But at least it was easy, simple
Never mind I can't stop now
Nothing can't prevent the incessant tumbling
So I will just be enveloped
By the sandy crests
Goodbye
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
Weighted
For home, to see any fated
Light, and its heart...?
Worth without, a coping all to start...?
So, waited...
Has a view, of harmony sated
An inclining deem of reason...
Sat in a heat's shadow, to endure a desire's season?
Quiet forces
Witnessing, an acquiring sense of worsens...
Has the youth, for are's demonstration
Poignancy and burden, love, precisely my notion...
The awakening sun
Promising any moment with the truth, won
Twain is a parables pardon
For what cares love, has become...
The sanctified night?
With almost, the belly of always, right...
Sense of a serious less, given a sighs guest to many ways
Are we to dance well under the stars, if a shine of liberty, mays?
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 3:01 PM UTC
THE INCLINING TEST
The Honeymooners
have locked themselves in
C135.
The cabin proving
a better draw
than either deck quoits
or adult shuffleboard.
We oblivious to
one and all
making our own sport
to our own great amusement.
Taking no notice what so
ever to
the ship's "Inclining Test"
to confirm its weight
and centre of gravity.
We only aware of
our own inclinations
to do
what we gotta do
being good
honeymooners
in accordance with the rules set by
The International Honeymooners Organisation
The IHO
an important part of
our compliance programme.
Our kisses and what nots
all seem to be in perfect
working order
only 3,000 miles of
wedded bliss to go
before we hit shore.
"Steady as she goes Miss Janice!"
"Steady as she goes Cap'n Donall.
We advance at
a steady rate of knots
into the rest of our
married life.
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 2:57 PM UTC
When the sky changes its colors
Red, rose, orange, yellow inclining light to dark blue
It covers all our busy life and sends a sign
Introducing a slide to another world
Reserved only
Once a day
So at every time
Until the last day of my life
I will just let myself plunge
When encountering this sight
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 3:04 PM UTC