"inkling" poems
Snow falling.
Ash rising.
Pump blood.
Breathe smoke.
Live art.
Screech obscenities.
Make love.
Show scars.
Create beauty.
Destroy yourself.
Jan 2, 2010
Jan 2, 2010 at 9:26 AM UTC
*You live in a world of all black and white.
Not the slightest glint of pigment, not the smallest touch of gray, not an inkling or a semblance of happiness or hope.
You blend in well with the world of black and white, of dullness and lethargy, knowing nothing other than lack of color and eternal melancholy.*
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
****** affliction of a lack of affection companion
Hand and hand strolling greater than syrupy plunging
and even sometimes buddy shrugging over wooden noisemakers
We whistle with their metal strings
and through the pasta soft ones in our throats
but no nest colored mares seem to hear
our flamboyant feather calls for future fondling
So I scribe slight implied short letters
invites to drink joints and nature jaunts
All too well thought out
hoping your advanced technology cannot trace
the time I spent to type
The overanalysis of our psych: her and I’s
wondering why she doesn’t have an inkling
for a cute fall date where we attempt to bake apple pies
It’s all too contrived, I know
I’ll strive for delusion
Accept a useful interpretation for our chemical inflammation
and let sparks pass it by
Like itsy bitsy flies laying eggs in a wound
for stagnant water maggots
They’ll eat away the thought well
where all my cranial zaps seem to dwell.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC
My neck is a nest
The warmth in it an ever present creature that
Oscillates and breeds and collects
And attracts creatures that do not
My neck is a nest
That doesn't just need to nurture but
To be nurtured and
Touched and kissed and electrified
In order to keep that warmth
My neck is a nest
That rests on an unsteady beating branch
And hangs under a filament-ridden sky
Neither of which can ever agree
But to disagree on whether
Niceness or smoothness or alcohol or hidden agendas
Should have anything to do with
How the warmth is kept
My neck is a nest
Full of hatchlings that have already
Dropped and soared
Dropped and stopped
Dropped and swooped at the last second
Where they are now
I have only an inkling.
My neck is a nest
That wishes to blend with the
Twigs and leaves and eggshells
That become it and
Be humbly content with who
It wants to attract and collect and warm.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
I beg inside my soul to have you.
I don't love you.
I want to feel passion, desire, and the warmth of another body pressing against me
I could grab any man I wanted, but I want you.
I see your brown hair
let me run my fingers through, just once
Your eyes
soft earth
Your lips
pink lilacs
And all I want is your body
Which is very saddening.
To only want to use someone, then toss them aside like trash
How can you?
And still fall asleep at night without thinking about a face wet with tears
your fault
I simply want to do to you
What you have done
To All the women before me,
The same song as a trickery
I want you to fall in love with me
an instrument meets the music
I want you to hold me close and kiss me, as you share your fears and truths.
a melody plays softly
I want you to believe in love because of me
Think of me, breathe me, and miss me when we are not together
accelerato tempo
Until one day you meet me in a corner booth at our favorite restaurant, and I rip your heart to shreds
*Look, I never loved you. I lied.
I used you to get what I want.
You are a pathetic, self-serving dung heap that only thinks about himself. You wooed me, I pretended to like you, so I could dig under your thick facade of masculinity, and discover your sensitive side. I know what you are--man whore--and I enjoyed using you. You can lie to everyone, every woman from this point on, but ten years from now, when you are married to wife number four and you are waiting for her to come home and she never does, I want you to crawl into the bed you made and bawl like the whining, sniveling baby you truly become at night when no one else is around you. I hope 'lonely' presses you down so hard it hurts to breathe. And maybe then you might turn into a different man or at least your miniscule brain will have an inkling of true heartbreak. Doubtful though--I win. You lose*
Then I get up and walk away from you, ignoring any pleas and ****** slurs.
Caesura
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
She's a 21st century fox.
Hair tangled up,
Strangled by the bedsheets in her thoughts.
Her Eyes are blue gold,
And if I stare too long,
She just might break the mold,
Of the prototype,
The best of my wishful thinking,
Grab ahold of my nightmares and don't let go til you start sinking.
I got an inkling,
Or a thought,
I won't stop til we get caught,
Then maybe they'll throw us back like two fish out of water.
I've been swimming upstream since before I was born,
So when I swim with the current
Its like I'm trying to conform.
Forlorn and broken
Trade my change for tokens,
I try to cash the chips in,
But I lost them all playing hold em'.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
Last night, I was exploring sensuality
********* an inkling at the basis of reality
Nibbling the earlobe of the next global catastrophe
Can you smell the Earth as she moans in total ecstasy?
The Universe reciprocates and ******* a galaxy
We're all in this together
And not inconsequentially
Apr 14, 2021
Apr 14, 2021 at 1:31 PM UTC
*frozen a lion stands
tamed by the modeller's hands
eyes unblinking
he has no inkling
why he can't move an ounce
roar and pounce
can't jump from his place
to bite a chunk of flesh
but bugged by the creator's flaws
can't move a bit his paws
stand there in dazed surprise
in helpless awe before thousand eyes
mouth agape in a tragic roar
the truth dawning on him
he's a king no more
just a clayed clone
of a lion*
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 11:19 AM UTC
Dear Ronald Bilius Weasley
No matter what others say
I will always be your fan
You are such a marvellous character
Not perhaps, a perfect one
But a character with flaws
So real, and so beautiful
That we can totally relate to it
In your first year at Hogwarts
You played a game of chess
In such a magnificent manner
That even the Russians of the Muggle world
Could not have done any better
In your second year at Hogwarts
You faced your greatest fears
With a courage and nerve
That Godric Gryffindor would have been proud of
For the sake of your best mates
In your third year at Hogwarts
You almost ruined a friendship
For the sake of a rat and a broomstick
But you made amends for it
By standing up to a notorious murderer
That too with a broken leg
Again, for the sake of your best mate
In your fourth year at Hogwarts
Again, there was a misunderstanding
That threatened to derail a strong friendship
But you were there for Harry
When it truly mattered
There was also some ugly ****** jealousy
As your teenage hormones took centrestage
But at least you got an inkling
That you and Hermione
Were made for each other
In your fifth year at Hogwarts
There was a lot you had to put up with
The constant bullying of the Slytherins
Especially during Quidditch matches
The temper tantrums of your best friend
And finally, the evil Dolores Jane Umbridge
Initially, due to your nerves and insecurities
Your Quidditch performances went from bad to worse
But then, you finally showed us
The stuff you were made of
Saving goals left, right and centre
And to cap it all
You bravely fought a dozen Death Eaters
Yet again, for the sake of your best friend
Finally, we come to the war
Due to your never-ending insecurities
And anxiety for your family
Worsened by a dreadful locket
That contained a part of Voldemort's soul
You briefly deserted your best mates
But returned when it mattered the most
Even saving Harry's life in the process
And then, as you destroyed that darned locket
You finally conquered your fears
And transitioned successfully to manhood
Finally, during the Battle of Hogwarts
You showed us your sensitive side
A side that we had never seen before
As you displayed your concern for the house-elves
Precipitating your first kiss with Hermione
Later on, you lost your dear brother
But continued to soldier on bravely
Even standing up to Voldemort himself
Hence, dear Ronald Bilius Weasley
No matter what others say
I will always be your fan
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 9:28 AM UTC
I'm starting to dream in color
swimming in Silvia red night gowns
and dancing into silhouettes of purple and crimson.
psychedelic actually,
if you take the time to think within that perspective.
it's like a toned-down rave set in slow motion by overdose.
and where are you?
are you passed out on the lawn in front of some closed down swapmeet?
did the flicker of insomnia turn you off like a light switch you hadn't paid the bill for?
who now, will answer your phone or pay homage to your quips
or late night phone calls to God?
I wish I could say that I relayed the message
but my nerves never were enough.
I wonder if the angels ever picked up on the twisted games you played on their names.
Many people never bothered to decipher it all.
But on occasion I did.
When the time was convenient,
when the moments were dull.
I delved into it.
I tried anyhow.
Forgive me for never letting you pass.
For standing arms and legs wide apart to halt the inevitable.
I wish for so many seconds
that I was there to do something,
to show something,
some inkling of understanding through sarcastic grimaces.
To you, who will read this and play dead for flair,
may you call upon me from the imaginary casket when you get this.
Fore I do see that you could never leave like that.
Dec 3, 2010
Dec 3, 2010 at 9:56 PM UTC
I crawled into a bottle once,
never found the way out.
It's cold and dark here,
lonely and with an echo...
...a hint and inkling of,
something else I cannot see.
How to crawl back out,
of something that holds you;
...back?
I crawled into a bottle once...
It's cold and dark in here.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 11:49 PM UTC
I give you my heart of glass, shattered
Would you take this heart that's bruised and battered?
I know you've got the tools to fix it
And for your love, I'm desperate
I need you like the oxygen we breathe,
Produce similar effects when you're taken away from me—choking on sadness, the lack of you leaves me unable to breathe
Maybe I'm too needy, but really, can you blame me?
It was in my worst moment that you said you would take me
You wanted me when no one else did
Loved me, replaced the things in me that were amiss
You gave me happiness, fixed my trust
Is it even possible to love you this much?
I'm so sorry for the times I doubt you, but you have to understand
It's rare in this life that I'm given the upper hand
So it's not your ability I'm doubting, trust me, it's me
I **** things up as you've clearly seen
I love you I love you I love you oh my God I love you
Those three words just aren't enough to express what I hold for you in my heart
Regardless, please accept them. They're all I have and they can express even an inkling of what I feel for you.
I want to wake up with you by my side every morning for the rest of my life,
Just being near you will suffice
Drawing circles on your skin while you lay still sleeping
And you looking at me with a lazy grin on your face when you wake up and see me—as if I'm the most beautiful thing
I want you so much and waiting to have you is torture
But I will wait until the day I can finally wrap my arms around you and kiss you hello
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 11:53 PM UTC
Monet was painting up my vision
while the droves were driven out.
We stepped out to the derision
of a tenor waterspout.
The town outside is dancing
in the ruddy neon hues
and I’m ****** whilst Amsterdam-ing
by the slam-dunk cognac blues.
And a cap was shaking coppers
in an out cove by the way,
where instruments and owners
had begun to play.
The bar stools are all swaying
whilst the festival ensues,
and I’m ****** whilst Amsterdam-ing
by the slam-dunk cognac blues.
With the rhythm of the rimjhim
and the stamping our feet
we sing our drunken-whim hymn
whilst we stagger down the street.
And we had sunken five; still sinking
Im strung out, slammed, and stinking
Four sheets to the wind and freaking
about what I had to lose.
so that’s when I got to thinking
had an inkling to the linking
between my errant drinking
and the slam-dunk cognac blues…
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 6:37 PM UTC
In the worst of times, martyrs will march barefooted into foreign lands
To toil its earth with flesh and sweat and blood
They jaunt north to south searching for milk and honey
and gold coins to put in their empty pockets
They stop to find out that they cannot walk barefooted
For the road is nothing but thorns and hot sand that scorch the feet
The merciless air is aloof and condescending
These people, they suffered
for their skin cracks in the winter and burns in the rain
Their tongue aches from speaking a different language:
voices turned into an unfathomable cadence
Frail skin torched like a hot tar to tissue paper
leaving only blackened soot
They come home with a dry mouth and scarred heart
These heroes will look up above into the cold night sky
to look for inkling of stars that guided them
For there is nothing sweeter than to bring food back home
To where hungry mouths and empty hands suffer in pain
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 6:09 AM UTC
Hey
I know it's been a while
Since we've last both spoken.
I'm doing fine
Except
I miss you sometimes
When I least expect it
I'm not really sure why
It's not like we were anything special
Maybe it's the look in your eye
In that one moment of vulnerability
When you tore off all the layers
Of protection
That you pull so tightly
Around you
Perfectly hiding you
Making you invincible from the world
Did that scare you?
That I saw that side?
Is that why you didn't call
Didn't leave even a note or an inkling
That you had the slightest interest
Or was your interest only for those few
Moments together
Like magic
Engulfing me completely
Intoxicating my senses
Filling me to the brim
With you and the possibility of more
More that will never come
Because you won't let it
I want you to know that I go
From spurts of anger to pain
When I think of you
And what we could have had
Sometimes I still hold hope
Before remembering
Stupid girl, it'll never work
You make me the highest of highs and the lowest of lows
And you don't even know it
Funny
Because I don't want you to
You don't deserve that
And at this rate you never will
Well this is getting long winded
And it's something you'll never see
Because really why would you?
You never even think of me!
So I guess it's time
To finish what I have to say
There's really nothing else
Other than
Goodbye
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
I think it quite strange living here walled by this house
when I was wilder than now I lived in nature
stalking birds and pollen laden things
always my toes in sands or hot footed in summer.
I was in love with the sky, no matter the weather
in storms I hid beneath branching cedars
sleeping on mossy pillows, in the woods of my backyard.
I never gave much thought to houses then, I only went there
to sleep or eat and waited to leave again
waited for an inkling of sun to warm the cold grass
spent days climbing trees, red plums and cherries
I imagined that's how life would always be,
living outdoors under the sun or clouds
wet with rain, always picking flowers.
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 10:49 PM UTC
2/10/2022
You flipped on me like a coin
But to compare you to a currency
Would be to suggest that you actually
Could spend your time like it were money
Or that you would place value on our friendship
I held onto you like a rung on a ladder
But to compare you to such a useful tool
Would be to pose that I might have actually
Used you as if you were a piece of equipment
Or that I thought I could climb you to reach new heights
You left me like a turn signal
But to compare you to a direction
Would be to suggest that you actually
Had some purpose or mission or goal
Or that you had an inkling of the destination of your journey
Mar 12, 2022
Mar 12, 2022 at 11:06 AM UTC
The undeniable sense of presence, seen through the realms of deception...
Amidst the very capillaries strung infinitesimally throughout our bodies...
Overwhelming at times, the very concept cripples our thoughts,
Circling us back to seemingly endless questions -
Endless roads without a point of reference,
Leaving us standing in a dark crowded space searching for the unreachable light...
Yet, the meaning behind the unseen presence forces the deluded mind to forge on -
Stretching our morbid ideals even further...
Leaving us the inhibited beings we possess...
Still concluding at plebeian answers -
Fitting, yet discouraging...
The common capacity of our restraining thought process, leaves us almost hopeless to accumulate the information needed to fulfill our determining destination...
But it is that feeling,
That inkling sensation of the undeniable presence that keeps us searching -
That gives us hope...
And in that minute innovative state we dwell on what could be...
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 9:05 PM UTC
i look out into dark, savoring the quiet, the stillness of new dawn, wondering who die today, whose life will end and whose will change forever, sending a shock of wave of pain and grief from an epicenter of a dead soldier
who will die today, whose mother wife daughter will cry today, whose father son brother will fall today
the sun has risen, reality has set in, its time to ride, its time for some to die, we roll the dice, who will land snake eyes
to sit in the humvee, knowing you are playing russian roulette, you can’t have hope, no inkling of a dream, lose the desire, it is the only way to survive, knowing you may die, give up all hope, consider yourself dead, be grateful at the end of the day when you are not. the drive down suicide alley, like the walk up gallow’s stairs. now i know how they felt. you surrender to fate. you stop thinking, you stop feeling, you go numb.
no longer in control, my life is no longer mine to live or die
i don’t believe in You, not since i was a boy, but i pray, that if we hit an IED, that i die instantaneously. i don’t want to lay on the ground, feeling the horror of dying, crying that i want to live, screaming out for my mother like i’ve seen happen to other guys
there are things worse than death, the living hell of coming home in pieces, physically damaged, emotionally traumatized, spiritually disillusioned, which slowly erodes and destroys your life. a new war, another battle, this time at home, fought in your head. the cycle of trauma 6-9-12, addiction, depression, how long do you let yourself free fall till you hit rock bottom
i am a man, i am not suppose to be afraid, but i am, i can’t show or say, not to them, especially not to you. i am not allowed to show fear, be vulnerable, you will lose respect, stop loving me, tell me to man up, in some subtle way
when everyone has left, everything lost, when the pain is greater than the fear. you must, you will, reach out, or die in combat, killed in action, in the war fought in your mind.
Jun 27, 2019
Jun 27, 2019 at 5:13 PM UTC
Heart beating, brain waves erratic
Depending on another to prove you can be loved
Over think like a new theorem
Numbers & symbols & calculations in your head
Try to look back through all the little details you missed
Are you kidding yourself?
Seeking for honesty
Hoping it’s in your favor
Everything seems fine
When you are together
Search for a sign, an inkling
Why do I try to reach out?
Stretching so far just to feel you energy
It’s so strong
Your lips, administer the strongest of narcotics
Paralyzed with your being
When we part, temporarily of course
My vitals change
And my heart & head battle
For reassurance
You make me delusional
The scent of you more powerful than a magnetic field
As you caress my body, stroke my face
I am no longer on this planet
I float with the spirits above
And sadly it cannot be bought
Release me from this paranoia
This addiction
Why so strongly do I fall into your force field?
Is my pull less intense?
Or is it that others just possess an energy more appealing?
You are nothing to be fooled around with
A different kind of beauty not in my realm
But in a parallel
To bring you into my circle would be an extra force in itself
But the lights around you shine so bright
That I’d gladly take the fall
Use my inner being to fight for you
But when it comes back to calculations and figures
One tight hold directly on another cannot compete with various forces in multiple directions
Even superheroes only deal with one villain an episode
Release me from this intangible pull
Because my revolving fire burns too bright
for this ill-distributed chemical bonding
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 7:07 PM UTC
Journeys rendered dateless,
Unending,
Wayward and extending out,
Round the compass points --
Dizzying aspiration to cease this race,
To slow my sprinting soul,
This pace splintering, in exhaustion.
Expiring breath of hope or of home
Evaporated in a distance
Vanishing and
Disconnected.
Drifting
On trackless tides, across
Labyrinthine depths,
Within the vast heart
Of the world
I cannot run from.
Yet, I moved to and between
The center or its peripherals, in
Singular or collectives,
Seeking pattern and
Drawing connectives –-
Brushing by and
Bustling among
People
Entranced In their own
Objectives.
I watched their movements
And their exchanges,
I heard their rituals and
Invocations.
In all these transitions,
They have no inkling
That their seemingly trite
Lives merely manifest
The epic motifs of the heavens!
Our imaginations mirror
The vitality of the gods!
We are as immortal as they!
Our simple, sensual stories
Are also enduring legends
Unfolding,
As our pages turn,
Our flags are unfurling!
Just as our fellow
Olympians of old
Engaged in a marathon of
Endeavor to heights
Unimagined!
From those mystic days
Since Orpheus’ ardent lyre
Sang notes
Of Nature’s divinity, Her
Eternal sweetness.
We need only sense that
It is in Nature’s essence
We are sharing.
With her, we are joined in
An undying marriage,
A unified pairing –
Our human heritage,
Our dignified bearing.
We share in that song,
We share in that sweetness,
We share in that race,
We share in Her immanence.
This journey is our own.
It goes on, unending!
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
before i go to sleep i look at you
in a myopic view, thanking a higher power
that i'm seeing someone so beautiful
i never want to lose
looking at you always feels like the first time
when i never had an inkling of how gentle
the light of this love could be
and waking up next to you
would be something that i'd look forward to
i belong to you, even after yelling
i belong to you, even after crying
i belong to your chest as i sleep
and my hands belong to yours
as i weep
and honey, your soft skin
your stubby fingers
and your tiny eyes
will forever be my home
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Many a notion I'd lay in indelible ink.
How the morning sun would harvest the contours of your face.
Accentuating...
Elevating...
Revealing...
Your majestic beauty.
Reminiscent of a different time and place.
Many a thought I'd pen in indelible ink.
When your breath meets with mine,
they'd hold their own conversation.
Deeply entranced,
In an everlasting dance
that would last forever.
Exchanging gaits of grandeur,
great longing and pine.
Many an inkling I'd etch in indelible ink.
The way my moon never gets eaten.
It'll balloon to its fullest...
Beaming it's brightest.
Seeping from its edges,
gushes forming rivers...
Bathing my earth in heavenly silver.
Calming the thundering hooves...
In my heart with rhyme and reason.
There are but three words...
Words so sacred I dare not utter in vain.
Proclamation so heavy my chest could hardly
hold in rein.
I've immortalised them here...
But in invisible ink...
Because no one would understand...
Of emotions so grand.
No one would have a clue...
That...
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
You are the darkest my octopus could ever release,
I love that pitch black, sometimes I wish I could swim in it.
I wish I could swim in you, and your darkness, and love.
But I tread black water with white gloves and fear drowning.
Your brilliance on my cold bare skin does not ***** me,
But mark me like tattoos and your ink I adore.
Let me keep your night in a bottle, safe and contained.
So when I feel lonely my skin will be stained.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC