"incredulously" poems
(In a vacant church Little Girl and Big Man sit on a parish
a few feet apart, in between them lies a book titled"My Feelings".)
(The curtain opens. Little Girl sits staring at Big Man. Big Man gets up and goes to the statue of himself in front of them for a closer look.)
Big Man: Will talking in person really make a difference?
Little Girl: I like to think it does.
Big Man: (turns to look at her incredulously.) What wishful thinking, you're so naïve.
(Little Girl opens her book and starts to read aloud.)
(Big Man cuts her off with a noise every time she starts to say something until she falls silent.)
Big Man: Just as I thought, it doesn't change anything.
Little Girl: But you don't-
Big Man: (cuts her off again.) You just can't let things go, that's your problem. I told you I didn't want to do this, yet you dragged me out here. It didn't accomplish anything!
Little Girl: That's because you don't even want to listen or try to talk, you just want to yell and blame me!
Big Man: That's enough, this conversation is over. (Walks off stage right.)
(Little Girl screams in anger and throws "My Feelings" at the Big Man Statue.)
(The Curtain closes.)
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 1:41 AM UTC
maybe there's a reason we don't see our own beauty. it's a strive towards selflessness. it'd be the cause of interference with our capability to see the rest of the world as beautiful as it is. with so many places to go & things to see we forget to notice the eternity within our own soul. we underestimate the scale of life itself. because without your individually unique ways we wouldn't go on to live in this incredulously magnificent world. an outcome of intelligence & stupidity.
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
I was walking through the jungle
When at once i saw a lion.
We each walked to the other
And he immediately roared
"Why aren't you afraid of me?"
But i misinterpretted it as
"Why? Aren't you afraid of me?"
So I responded "No way!"
Well, he looked at me incredulously
As if I were three shades of crazy
Whilst I turned my back
And walked away.
Indeed I thought I had won the day.
Well I got about five steps,
Before lo and behold,
Guess who was in front of me
Taking a long roar to say
"How dare you turn your back to me!
Be it brave or stupidity
I'll have my meal today!"
"Look a gazelle!" I point and say
Immediately running away.
I didn't get far,
No I didnt get far.
But it didn't take much
For the hunter to get his way.
Mar 29, 2011
Mar 29, 2011 at 7:43 AM UTC
This morning I rose before the sun,
Stretched slowly and yawned wide,
Then drove to the skate park,
knowing it would be empty this early.
I skated, really skated,
braver away from others' eyes.
Others trickled in over the hours.
Sitting, resting on the bleachers
A question from another,
"why is no one skating?"
I, confused, reply incredulously
"Why are YOU not skating?"
His explanation saddens me.
He doesn't skate,
is twenty years old,
and so feels it's too late.
I'm 26, I tell him,
I just started and I'm terrible.
It's true.
I'm unsure of myself
and my form
is
off
but I'm trying.
We have this one life,
one chance.
Why would you not try
for something
you've always wanted to do
or something you love?
You don't have to be good,
but ****
you do have to try.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
I turned the corner, entering the Italian sculpture collection at Le Louvre, delighting in the smells and quiet sounds of the museum. I walked slowly down the creaking wood floored corridor, ignoring the Dirce, the Nymph and the Scorpion, till I came to Antonio Canova’s Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss.
I gazed at it lazily, longingly, savoring its sensuality, love, and tenderness. It was beautiful, beyond belief, exquisite. It evoked so many emotions, to the point of being overwhelming. I stared at it, losing myself, in time and reverie, wishing I could love and be loved with such intensity.
“It’s beautiful, “I heard a feminine whisper in my ear. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my neck. “Yes,” I replied, slowly, instinctively, coming out of my trance, and turning towards the voice.
Our eyes met, locked, I couldn’t look away, as if bewitched, her incandescent blue eyes fathomless, tender, worldly, looking, seeing deep into my soul. I could feel her in me, like a new born kitten exploring every nook and cranny. It was slightly unnerving, knowing she could wander, at will, unfettered, and yet calming, even comforting.
As I regained my sense, I recognized her and stared, incredulously, until she said, softly, sweetly, “je m’appelle Seraphine.”
She moved in a bit closer, cocking her head towards my right ear, and whispered, “It is my favorite, it's so tender and passionate, the way he holds her, kisses her, the way only a god could.” I noted her tone, the way she said it, with such confidence, as if she knew, from experience, what it was like, to be kissed, loved, by a god.
She gently pulled back a bit, looked me in the eyes, like a child looking at a puppy. She was beautiful, preternaturally beautiful, a paragon, goddess like. I just stared at her in awe.
“I think we’ve seen each other around Paris”, she said softly, smiling, “and may have bumped into each other in the Metro.” “Yes, I think we have,” I replied, as she extended her right hand, as a queen would, to a knight. I didn’t know if I should kneel and kiss her hand, or shake it. I took her hand in mine, it was soft, warm, moist. I could feel her youth, femininity, life in her hand. I shook it, gently, stopped, slightly released my grip, our hands slid apart, touching, sliding, caressing down our fingers, stopping ever so slightly at the tips, before releasing. The ecstasy of her touch. I longed for more. I heard her sigh, my eyes moved from her hand, to her lips, finally to her eyes. I smiled and said, almost in a whisper, “Je m’appelle Damien.”
Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 3:48 PM UTC
I can feel you near me
Whenever you are close.
You're like an overdose on
E
My tank is on
F
I want to swim past your knees
And take one last deep breath before
Submerging myself
Into the salacious, incredulously insatious, Caribbean Sea-warm Oasis
At the apex of your thighs.
I will set sail ships in your eyes
Questing for you to magnetize me in the direction towards the destin of my fate.
The question is
Once I'm in
Can your Vaginal Strait
Navigate me
In the deep dark cavity of your hips
Or can your lips
Narrate
Irrigate me to the waterfalls of your heart
I want to split your valves apart and
Let
Love
Pour.
I want to anchor permanently on the sink-sands of your shores;
I want to be closer to you than I've ever been before...
I want you to feel me.
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
I'm a fan of Vontaze Burfict
Though he may not be perfect
For he gives players concussions
To continue the daily discussions
Of the power of his percussion
To receive a hall of fame induction
That is where his value is derived
So what do these penalties imply?
That the referees have a preconceived notion of him
And are preemptively looking to treat him grim
Which gives his team a lesser chance to win
Which makes the biased referees grin
We are a country that idolizes quarterbacks
Every other position we're quick to attack
We only care about who has the ball
And laughing at others when they fall
We worship that which is shiny
And view everything else as grimy
Quarterbacks become celebrities incredulously
While everyone else is treated impetuously
The NFL is like America
Politics makes it harder to watch
The Patriots are boring and plain
They win constantly
The Bengals are entertaining and rough around the edges
They show promise and potential that is never realized
In a nation
Of provocation
I'd rather proudly call myself a bengal
I know that seems an idealistic angle
But Cincinnati provides no coziness or protection
You must always avoid discriminate detection
Of those that call themselves patriots
That drive blue and white chariots
And penalize players unnecessarily
For African Americanning
We really fumbled the ball
Because of the ref's call
That treats us unequally
How they have fun evilly
They can arbitrarily treat whoever however
But a concussion will make them less clever
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
The cry
of the barrel screams
Screams resound across the earth's
Great Expanse
Expands from the lowlands of Vail to
the valleys of Los Angeles to
the depths of Oceania to
the oceans of death and,
after incessantly increasing,
incredulously stops.
Except not really.
Really, to most Valians,
he was just a name in passing,
fluttering past consciousness just long enough
to get a "poor thing" or a "shame."
Really, his body hit the cement a full
7 hours, 6 minutes before his parents came work
from home, not the other way round,
Saw the alien body of their offspring, then the corpse,
and threw themselves
at lawyers, counselors, and more lawyers
as each professional debated which lover
he wanted as his teammate in the opening of
The Blame Games.
Really, the cessation of Adam's heart
didn't open the gates in exuberant expectation of
The true savior.
His beats stopped when
the world began
The lost change in between his seat cushions
never had just one meaning.
Really, he never thought he would
ever amount to more than a dollar.
Really, the only question that matters,
the only entreatment with gravity,
is, Was he right?
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
A feeling of cold leaves my body
Flowing away as I step to the counter
Just an extra large English Toffee please
Quick, something warm!
Sure, it might not be that cold outside
But I still need my morning hit
Of that sweet shit-coloured liquid
We've all come to call coffee
Could I get a refill?
Guy behind the counter just stares incredulously
At me, the customer no less
Caffeine doesn't jitter me
Cool wisps of steam rising from the cup
And the sweet aromatic scent however,
Jolts more shivers up my spine
Than any lover could
If you could choose any object to marry
Pick coffee right away, wouldn't you?
Don't get me wrong, I'd love going down on that
But we shouldn't have to pay for love
Having to gingerly leave it on the counter
Nothing sadder to look at but an empty cup
Buttoning up your jacket
Stepping outside
Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 6:38 PM UTC
In the
Sweltering summertime dawn
I was
Pleasantly stunned
By the
Spontaneous presence
Of you
In my life
In the
Soothing autumn afternoon
I was
Immensely intrigued
By the
Familiar disposition
You have
In my life
In the
Slumbery winter twilight
I was
Overwhelmingly enchanted
By the
Comforting spirit
Of you
In my life
In the
Arousing spring moonlight
I was
Incredulously cognizant
By the
Undeniable home
You have
In my heart
© NDHK
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 5:56 AM UTC
Stage lights burn out.
I am left agog.
Eyes drop
incredulously
as what I saw before me
was very restoring.
A story of humanity,
a Shakespearian epic,
a turbulent tempest
that hit me with
the fierceness of Hamlet.
As Othello’s hands
wrapped around
his beloved neck,
as Thibault killed Mercutio
As Ariel and Puck
played their trickster games,
as Prospero planned,
and Oberon dawned
his elvish Armor,
as Titania loved an ***
and saw false love pass;
As the thorny crown
of King Richard passed
then passed again
whilst he ruminated
nearly naked in a cell of
dirt and stone, alone,
halfway mad before
he made it there.
As Caesar bled
betrayed by Brutus
in the Ides of March,
I await more wonders
for Shakespeare
has so much more
I have yet to get to.
I am descended
from that poet’s heart.
who passed down his purchased arms
of false nobility
to become a man of property
not knowing his plays
would make him greater
than any noble man of his day.
After all the pleasure
I sit in awe and ponder,
what if he had the eyes to see
what faces us presently
would he wonder at the cleverness of us
or cower at the current level
of our stupidity?
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
O me, o my! The world is sorrow
For I have quite a struggle tomorrow
Wandering incredulously for truth
Why I am here to do I have no proof
Woe is me, I have to think all day
Working aimlessly is the only way?
Me thinkest I must be a poor soul
Animal and child have no such cold
The Powerful Force bequeathed me a ban:
No progress without the plight of man
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
I didnt want to talk about it.
it hung there in its ominous entirety devoid of explaination
the sickening welt in my gut peircing the truth into realisation
it is something that could not be unseen, unheard.
as you finally grasped its magnitude gaping wide open incredulously at the shape of it
I looked away.
I blame you.
but I never said a word.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 8:03 PM UTC
"She...she. . .
loves me!
He says it just
- like that!
As if he had practiced it
and had got it
- down pat!
Or as if he were saying:
"Pass the coffee ***
Or as if...
...I didn't!
I watch him
distorted in the coffee pat
a short stout man
a little man with a long face.
I want to laugh but
I have lost my laughter.
"My...sister! My...twin!...The *****
"Go!" I tell him "...just: go!"
He: went.
She felt like an android
or replicant rather..
She thought of her
self now
in the( "Absurd!" )3rd
person singular
as if she had fallen
out of her self.
He: gone.
All those moments
lost in time
making love to Wagner's
Tannhäuser
( screaming the house down )
always his laughter
her music
stars dancing over
the Bridge of Sighs.
A Santa incredulously
in a gondola
singing Santa Lucia.
"So...
me d'oh!"
she hummed.
This the little song
of her self.
"So mi doh!"
trying to keep its head
above the floodwaters
of belief.
Bladerunner rewound 99 times
to that END.
All those moments
...lost in time
like( cough)tears
in a glass of
red wine.
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
People find it weird when I say that
twenty years from now
I see myself single.
It's funny,
how they incredulously raise an eyebrow
as they try to explain me
"honey, don't say that, you'll find someone someday"
as if falling in love was some kind of unwritten rule.
It may be a little rush to think
I'll spend my whole life with only myself as company
but it's actually curious to see how everybody is so into telling me
that by no means I'm going to be a sad fourty-year-old cat-lady.
Because if no one loves you when you're fourty
you surely are a sad cat-lady,
right?
Because failure means
turning thirty-five and having no marriage in sight,
turning twenty-five without at least one ex-boyfriend,
turning eighteen and have never been kissed,
right?
Because everyday I hear more and more teenage girls
worrying about turning sixteen without a kiss to remember
and that gives them so much shame they don't even mention it
as they go past other girls with a single thought running inside their minds:
"is this normal?"
This is very normal, dear.
You're not doing things wrong, on the contrary, you still have a lot of time.
But you are scared you might not be desirable.
You are scared you might turn thirty-five and still have not been desired, not even once.
But the people who love you don't define your value,
in fact nothing and nobody does
the only value that matters is the one you give to yourself
and once you value who you are,
you will be truly able to love others
and to love them deeply: a kind of love that is worth to receive.
Unfortunately, it's common to get confused
and think you will never be happy unless someone wants you.
Don't believe that,
or you might become thirty-five
married and with the feeling you're not complete and something's missing
as you go past other mothers with a single thought running inside your mind:
"is this normal?"
And that shouldn't be so normal.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
He quickly forgot to hold her hands the way she loved it.
Who remembers those things after having stained the sheets?
The pain keeps turning her like a leaf in the wind
not seeing where it comes from,
or where it will go, for all it knows
is being swirled away in a state of chaos.
Her sense of right and wrong was dislocated,
as she keeps thinking back to how good things feel,
forgetting that one is not supposed to cling onto memories
of sensations. They delude you, make you ignore,
turn you away from seeing
where exactly it hurts.
She resists from calling him to not appear
desperate. Needy. Clingy. Anxious.
He is given more freedom than he needs,
which slightly surprises him.
Perhaps she does not care either.
Their twisted sense of communications
has brought the relationship
to where two people are not meant to be.
It is where the *** is incredulously fantastic,
while the non-sex is incredibly empty.
Aug 2, 2010
Aug 2, 2010 at 9:13 PM UTC
I
*Oh life, you unfulfilled *******
All seeing eye of admonition,
You unfair precinct of justice,
You incredulously cruel myth,
Oh, How I hate you
Oh, How I want to leave you
Oh, How I love your counterpart more,
Death.
She seems easy and trouble free.
An impenetrable kingdom of night.
I wish I could fade into oblivion sometimes.*
II
*I'm three year strong of my grand depression.
It's not always there now,
but it is.
And so am I.
And so are you.
And so is my lacuna,
my friend,
who invivorogated my sense of purpose,
who gave me a reason to live.
She has been
My net I fall onto everytime
you push me down from the trapeze act of my passions.
The medicine that nurses my wounds when you leave me bleeding.
My ventilator as my soul was dying a slow sad death.
When you **** all my hope away
she plants it back again deep in my heart
impervious to your morbid touch
tightly sealed with her warm kiss.
I am scared to be happy because of you,
because every time I am happy
you decide to give me a new **** reason
to be ineffably sad.
You know where it hurts me the most
which parts of me, is most tender and vulnerable,
you know my weaknesses
you use it against me like an old friend who is now an enemy.
Why can't you just let me be ?
I'm tired, so **** tired.
It's alright.
I have my love,
and I'll make it through the day
and spit in your apathetic face.
I ******* hate you,
though you are beautiful okay.*
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 11:47 PM UTC
do you know how hard it is with people asking me left right and centre
won't stop saying your name
and i have to explain that you still love me but not the same
and when i tell them you left me they look at me so incredulously
"he doesn't know what he's missing"
but the thing is neither do i
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 6:11 AM UTC
“Advance!” I shouted
That **** monkey wouldn’t budge, not even to look me in the eye
“Insolent decrepit brat!Advance!”
Still that monkey did nothing
“Advance, I say! Do you hear me? Advance!”
“No.” said the monkey
“No?” I asked incredulously
“No.”
“And why not?” I demanded
“Because” said the monkey “you did not say please.”
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 4:32 PM UTC
we're standing outside the grounds and
i notice how my forearms look remarkably
tan against the white bars, darker than the
loose wet sand out in the arena, a calf trots
by and darts off when a young boy flips a beer
cap at its head--
Ben looks out to the bleachers and goes so, I gotta ask
and I know what's comin' before it leaves his mouth,
know it's something about you, something that's probably
gonna sting a bit so I say, yeah? and I smile real nice like
I don't expect a bad thing--
and he peels a layer of skin from his knuckles and says that he went and asked Alan about me, about what kind of person I was--
that you up and told him I was *real ****** churchy* all full bore and what have you...so I go quiet and he looks over and gets this startled
expression, like I've gone pale. Which is funny, all things considered.
but he bumps my shoulder and says *I won't bring it up again,
i just was curious*
I shake my head because I know I'm good at hiding an
erratic heartbeat. I can see you leaned back somewhere with a
*** of copenhagen nestled into your front lip, *real ****** churchy*
comin' out of you sharp and smooth like a blade,
I imagine you might be hurt about it all,
what business have I got with a Rusher?
twice as crazy as you, probably.
I tell him I've got to go--gotta go because it's late,
because the rodeo is over, because pluto is 4.6 billion
miles from earth and I can feel its gravity--I gotta go.
While I'm driving home, I'm tapping out the syllables
and counting the letters, whisperin' real fuckin' churchy
to myself, incredulously, in agreement, partially because
I can't think of much else
I didn't expect that, really.
Not from you.
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 1:01 AM UTC
My Dear, it is incredulously
Important that I am willingly
Rendering this letter innocently,
To you, who holds my heart.
It started in the Fall,
For now seven years in all,
Even when the wind will loll,
I remember we are apart.
I used to sleep...and dream of you,
Now the nights are absent, all untrue,
The rends of tomorrow that hold no glue,
The engine is withholding.
Cohesive and all but branding,
I was ever so understanding,
Honesty was our safest landing,
From a leap so foreboding.
An empty nest, an abode so cold,
Just a house now, no one is home.
And endless bound where Nothing roams,
I am all that is longing.
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
THE LOVING BATTLE
He said: "Loving her was like...
putting together an Ikea flatpack
with a few screws missing!"
She said: "Ha...loving him was like...
putting together an Ikea flatpack
in the dark...without knowing what it was!"
We called them" "The Ikea Couple"
knowing it could never last.
"It will end in tears!" we said.
Man & wife now
these...what
last 40 years?
"How come...you've come this far!"
we enquired incredulously
"We love to row!" they say simultaneously
"We call it THE LOVING BATTLE!"
He calls her: "Hammer!"
She calls him: "Tongs!"
"When it looks all wrong
we know it's alright!
We both enjoy a good fight!"
"And....
...the making up?
That's the best bit!"
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 5:42 PM UTC
In a place where everything is uncertain,
People change faces behind a closed theater curtain,
To swindle others' rights just for a game of tease,
So they come off with masks obscuring true identities.
Everyone has complex sheets of guises,
To shield one's self from inherent vices.
Better be a human without magnificent grandeur,
Rather be someone whose existence no man can endure.
Lest not give trust to neither a friend nor a foe,
Before you end up listening to yourself about a woe.
But how can we differ one from the other?,
If everywhere deceit has now slather.
Most are gullible enough to be a victim of a crime,
From someone deceiving others just for a waste of time.
The culprit continuously being incredulously exuberant,
Whilst those saw the crime act exceedingly nonchalant.
Shame that we are all appalling creatures with hidden pulchritude,
Behind every lie and guise in sinful sanctitude.
Despite attempts to conceal things due to disenchantment,
None can succeed for human desire never has its true contentment.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC
Even birds look ominous,
and are.
The pasty trees disclose
no silence:
rook-voice
dandifies this March.
Inside my skull
a hair-line fracture shifts.
The mind’s thin powders
function slowly,
doused in tears.
You stare incredulously
when the bullet’s wild velocity
has entered you.
Your eyes scorch dry,
and slump.
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 8:09 PM UTC
sometimes my window frames
my desire
to escape to the mountains
or to hide from the people outside
i get stuck there gazing out
at the world
a reluctant participant
who just wants to blend in or get away
but today i looked and
i just saw
a familiar place where i
incredulously
yet undeniably
belong
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC