"indelicately" poems
At the mirrors edge I strain to see what else.
Tracing the frame, it’s there I drop out,
into a symmetrical arena. A personal hell.
Longing for the last after each new bout.
Every contender’s aim is one that can’t be helped.
Shadow boxing polar aspects of myself.
The only wager is penny-less.
A counterweight to doubt.
When the verdict is in,
who is it that wins out?
The bread winner of recycled debt
owed to the sentinel of the self.
The indelicately celibate
having *** with themselves.
**** you. Thank you."
**** you. Thank you."
**** you. Thank you.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 10:28 PM UTC
I've a million things I'd like to say,
But not one of them would matter.
All the words and all the dreams,
spilled forth from my lips,
my heart, my soul,
Laid bare before you in simple language,
spoken word,
For you to disregard, tear apart,
Consume wholly, indelicately.
I've a million hopes I'd like to tell you,
But not one of them would be.
All the thousand thoughts woven
From threads of you,
of want, of need.
Stripped naked in your presence,
a screenplay,
Of my love, unfounded,
For you to critique,
Rip from page to page.
Like the breaking of fine china,
How it never is as pretty when in pieces.
So too my heart,
So too my love,
So too my wants, my words, unspoken.
Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 3:59 AM UTC
Enough, and a bit less, if need be, see
enough is enough to share,
think of the air.
All we think alone, we think as well,
aloud as silent,
we may, think of works, wit wounded
sounds spoken indelicately, as if
somschit nevamattah, same same same
shamesolain shame shame shame,
she shoulda knowd… ah,
there's the rub.
Nov 3, 2022
Nov 3, 2022 at 7:17 PM UTC
*Te adoro
the way you adore me.
Sweep me off my feet
even though it's quite the feat -
to convince me
with sweet sentiments
have me reeling, writhing -
with both pleasure and acceptance.
You say it's effortless, easy -
for me.. I'm speechless.
I've seen lust in a man's eyes
far too many times
but you - you look at me like I'm gold treasure.
Not left bemused, but you call me your muse.
Not
spun around tactlessly,
plucked indelicately,
abused, subdued, misused.
Abandon all hope.
Sometimes I think,
I don't know how to speak, feel or write about love anymore.
Familiarity with the fear - but you allow me to feel.
Te adoro.*
Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 10:04 PM UTC
The homesick frost
in your voice
A reminder to those
days of ice
Lavender sun
against crisp cloudless skies
Skating about the pond
until the numbing end of daylight
Then always inside
to find residing warmth
Catching your unclothed
silhouette
Glowing
beside the fire
Sitting indelicately
roasting marshmallows
Waiting so
pressingly
Glowing
waiting
For familiar kisses
to dwell upon you
Aug 23, 2020
Aug 23, 2020 at 2:22 PM UTC
It is with trepidation he treads the raised ridges of puckered pink on your skin.
He holds you like an artist cradling a vase
His eyes captivated by you, yet touching you only delicately, the moment shadowed by the fear
That your fragile self might shatter.
He knows that glint of hate in your eyes when you look at a mirror;
When you touch, skin on skin, caresses and fumblings and kisses and hitched breaths,
It is always dark.
You don’t have to see the scars;
and neither does he.
The shadows hide the faults, the flaws, the fears.
* * *
The day I saw your mother hug you, and step back to look at you with pride, her arms clutching yours, only to recoil when she felt the healing skin, and remove her hands indelicately, I knew –
I would never love you gently.
Everyone else walked on eggshells around you. Everyone else expected you to crumble at the slightest breeze of disaffection. Everyone else told you in their actions that you were fragile.
I wanted to tell you you were strong.
When we argued I didn’t lower my voice in case it sounded like your demons, when my hand traced the angry red lines that decorated your arms I did not kiss them better or withdraw my touch, when our lips would brush i was never delicate, never timid -
you have had enough of timid.
I knew the glint of hate in your eyes when you looked in the mirror, so when we lay skin on skin I made sure there was light and you could see the scars just as i could, and you could see the warmth in my eyes as they drank them in, and you could learn to look at them the same way.
We had love without shadows.
And I loved you -
lights on.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
That lopper-thingie on the end of a pole
Indelicately intrudes among the leaves
Telescoped out, its harsh geometry
Unnatural among the greenery
There seeking out an elusive apple spared
The nightly browsings of the day-shy deer
Or the nightly pillagings of raccoons
Who destroy more than they will ever eat
But there’s that apple – careful, careful – snip:
And down it falls, with an apple-saucy flip!
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 2:45 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Go back to where you came from
The President indelicately said
To those members of Congress
That have gotten in his head
The fact that they’re all female
Which he might like to bed
Is the additional information
That is better left unsaid
Go back to where you came from
Is an old familiar screed?
Which is the object of the subject
That the protagonist happens to need
To make someone feel less than
What they are indeed
By otherizing them
The protagonist hopes to succeed
Go back to where you came from
Some racist like to taunt
Others who are different
When they want to vaunt
Their status over them
Like the philosopher Kant
Or like a mother who has precedent
Over a favorite aunt
Go back to where you came from
As if they really knew
When nine times out to ten
They don’t even have a clue
When they issue that directive
As racist frequently do
But here's some cancer causing tobacco
That I wish that they would chew
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019. All rights reserved.
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 10:47 PM UTC