"inpenetrable" poems
I want to warm my hands in you,
the soft merrigold folds of your
buttercream skin.
Lay in the crook your shoulder,
hiding my face deep in the smell
of ocean breezes and mist,
spraying up around me,
setting me free.
Trace my spine like the highway,
hitting every bump in the road,
sliding off the side once in awhile
to skirt down the slope if my side;
tuck your knees to your chin,
like you do,
like you are.
How when I think of you,
I think of the cosmos,
and nebulas,
and star filled spaces
All clustering like broken glass.
Because that's what you are,
you are broken glass.
See through in most places,
Tiny splinters here and there,
so you can
Still see through,
see your reflection,
But when the glare hit just right,
you are inpenetrable,
no ones eyes able to look for long.
I wonder what you think of when you
think of me?
Do you think of wind?
Always around you,
touching inch of your skin,
setting you free,
or setting against you,
heavy.
Or do you think of somethin else?
Something worse?
Something,
like invisibility maybe?
Can you really see me?
Cause I don't think you can.
Not with the way you treat me.
Pretending I exist only half the time.
You let me do things for you,
put myself out there..
And then I get excited about something ,
or maybe I need you.
And you jut sit there,
and pretend I don't exist.
And it feels like my lungs have been cut out.
But it's okay,
what's the point of breathing anyways?
When the life is knocked of you,
again,
and again.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
the air outside today smells like people of all kinds
it smells like linoleum and air conditioning and cardboard
what is that? it's safety, it's knowing you are in an
inpenetrable hub. it's also change, knowing that this place
will take you somewhere else. It smells like love.
It smells like new revelations, hard goodbyes, and returning
to someone you know loves you. It smells like growing up.
I've been enveloped in that smell for the hardest
cries of my life, and for the most exciting, life-changing
moments. In fact, every time I enter this smell,
I know that my world is about to be thrown into a new orbit.
I feel safe here. Not sure why. They say we're afraid
of the unknown but they also say that life begins
at the end of our comfort zone- when I smell this smell,
I know that my safety net is over but I've never
felt more certain of my ability to walk the line. In short,
the air outside today smells like airports and churches.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 8:37 AM UTC
Can anyone hear the whispers of a vacant mind?
I believe it would sound something like, the crash of the tides,
on a hot summer night,
and I let this fill me up like the fullest cup, from which I drink your poisoness blood,
only to fall to the ground, finding there was no real reason, for this deed to be done,
for there is never any reason, for such an unjustified suicide,
but then again, who would ever take time to justify, the unjustifiable,
and to which mind this makes any sense, I do not know,
but from this pen, my words do flow,
and to anyone who reads them, I wish you luck, in unraveling the riddles of my tounge,
and who would have ever known, there was anyone so wise, all while being so young?
And no, this is not me saying I am any wiser than most,
I'm just going on what I've been told,
feel free to argue, like do most,
Now I will take this time, to make a toast,
to anyone who has ever done me wrong, for you are the ones who have made me so strong,
and while you may think I hate you, you are ever so wrong,
and now I take the time to thank you, for all that you've done,
because without all of your hate, I wouldn't be the person I am today,
and while they say sticks and stones only break bones,
I've used the ones thrown at me, to build an inpenetrable wall,
in which I hide behind, plotting my revenge,
for while I said I didn't hate you, that doesn't mean we're friends,
So going back to the question at hand,
can anyone hear the whispers of a vacant mind?
I do believe it may sound like the crash and fall of the tide,
and as the waves crash, just know, you're listening, to the contents of, my ever so, vacant mind.
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 4:17 PM UTC
You’re paper thin
Wearing a mask
Hiding behind the plumes of smoke from all the joints you roll
Behind trees, behind bushes, hidden away -
You’re always hiding away.
Dissapearing,
behind the slow closing train doors every lazy afternoon.
I’m losing you.
I wake with the birds,
you with the foxes,
searching among the sacred debris of your bedroom
Until the fix is in
I see right through you,
Your empty promises,
the silences you create- so thick and inpenetrable
I feel like I’m suffocating in a hot-boxed car.
Silence disperses when you joke about your future life;
Chained to a silver spoon.
Show me your deck,
Every card bears a picture of a white dove
I see right through you,
See fear so deep and real,
Your kind words die, swallowed up, withdrawing inside
Where I want to be,
Inside the recesses of your mind
where the voices reside
Poor Catholic boy
God doesn’t see right through you
Like I do.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 4:34 PM UTC
You call to me,
From above,
Patience riddled with desperation,
While I slumber,
Waiting in Death's anxious hand,
Your gentle voice awakens something,
I thought it to be dead,
But hope arises,
I thought us both conquered,
But you breathe air,
Into my fragile lungs,
Reviving lost hope,
Stealing me away,
From Death's inpenetrable clutches,
With your passion
Jan 1, 2011
Jan 1, 2011 at 12:24 AM UTC
Breathing in the impenetrable silence of him
as the stars caress our cheeks
and the moon plays the song of our love
I know one thing
I am his
and he is mine
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC