"invulnerable" poems
The wrath inside you boils from your rage;
your anger elevates to drown your sense.
My blindness has deluded me as sage,
serene and irreproachably intense.
It’s likely that my passive nature’s pushing
my little brother, you, – who hates that term –
straight to hear discordant, silent ringing
as wrath’s contorted demon crisply worms
into your weakened ear to fill your mind
with bubbles, red, and bursting sound, and DARK –
which spread like darkened dust-storms into mine.
That ready wrath, red and quick to spark
burns best those minds invulnerable to sin –
such smug-singed souls sink – slaves to self-delusion.
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 1:08 AM UTC
Incoherent because of your doings.
You've changed a lot.
I am an introvert person now.
Because I don't want to be invulnerable.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 8:32 AM UTC
Distance brings proportion. From here
the populated tiers
as much as players seem part of the show:
a constructed stage beast, three folds of Dante's rose,
or a Chinese military hat
cunningly chased with bodies.
"Falling from his chariot, a drunk man is unhurt
because his soul is intact. Not knowing his fall,
he is unastonished, he is invulnerable."
So, too, the "pure man"-"pure"
in the sense of undisturbed water.
"It is not necessary to seek out
a wasteland, swamp, or thicket."
The opposing pitcher's pertinent hesitations,
the sky, this meadow, Mantle's thick baked neck,
the old men who in the changing rosters see
a personal mutability,
green slats, wet stone are all to me
as when an emperor commands
a performance with a gesture of his eyes.
"No king on his throne has the joy of the dead,"
the skull told Chuang-tzu.
The thought of death is peppermint to you
when games begin with patriotic song
and a democratic sun beats broadly down.
The Inner Journey seems unjudgeably long
when small boys purchase cups of ice
and, distant as a paradise,
experts, passionate and deft,
hold motionless while Berra flies to left.
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There is something painfully wrong about
a mother’s cry.
In those seizing moments,
while her nose twitches
and her eyes bleed red
and she lets tears smear
jaggedly about her face-
there is something so unsettling,
so
out of place.
You perceived her once invulnerable,
but now you find
that behind her divinity are familiar fears
that overwhelm her omniscient mind.
When your own Goddess
can’t be free from corruption,
that even the holy
have weak heels and poisoned matrimonies;
that is
agonizing acrimony.
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 3:55 PM UTC
the initial impact
the ruptured vessels
crying crimson
pooling up underneath the surface of your
fragile flesh
soft, breakable unlike the iron
that flows through you
then a swell
of black and blue
of violent violets
a nebula to remind you that you
are not invincible
are not invulnerable
will one day turn to dust,
a star of lost oxygen
tender to the touch
then the healing
a green gradation
yellowed edges
the swelling going down
the knowledge that nothing is permanent
that even your bruises pale
even your blood decays
even the galaxy imprinted on your skin can explode, collapse,
lost infinitely in infinity
the knowledge that even as you are getting better,
you are fading like the bruise
that once stained your skin
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC
12/27/2013
I cried in the shower.
When nobody was around to see,
except me - looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
But it was enough to make me cry harder, cry louder,
cry softer, cry unseen and cry unheard.
Cry out of sight and cry out of mind and cry without saying a single word.
Cry for the fallen who can't get up.
Cry for the tortured whose lives have been messed up.
Cry for a family I've never heard of.
Cry for the homeless and poor who just needed a little bit more love.
Cry for my friend who recently contracted ***
Cry for him, because I wish instead it had been me.
I sat up in bed after midnight, writing a diary entry it read,
"No happy greeting tonight."
I laid down in the empty bathtub with the shower running,
spraying hot water, only on to my side.
The rest of me, freezing cold, exposed.
I played a song in the background, called Wounded.
There were three separate streams running down my face:
water, shampoo, and are those Tears coming out of the shower faucet?
It seemed like a perfect scene for a tragic movie.
It definitely felt 'unreal' enough to be in one.
I was spitting a lot.
maybe because the bitterness of words trapped in my mouth contaminated my palate.
He might have *** Highly Likely.
and I always viewed him as invulnerable.
We spoke on the phone and he pretended to be strong but I can sense feelings.
I guessed it after all.
Only we might know so far.
Tomorrow he finds out.
Don't worry about me.
No ****** involvement - I'm not lucky enough to get a guy like that.
I feel a fraction of his fear and pain though.
I've been an idiot and a bad friend.
So no happy greeting tonight diary.
Please excuse my sorrow and don't take pity.
No worries, I think those were just Tears coming out of the shower faucet.
Like the single Tear I wake up with each morning ever since I heard he got it.
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 12:48 PM UTC
I’ve never been good
At hiding emotions I feel.
I’m not Superman
And Superman isn’t real!
I’m not Superman
And you’re not Lois Lane
We’re not invulnerable
And insensitive to pain.
I can’t read minds
Or see through walls.
And I really can’t fly,
I’m not super at all.
I’ve never been good
At hiding emotions I feel.
I’m not Superman
And Superman isn’t real!
When looking for flattery
It does no good to fish.
I’m not a bottle genie
That grants every wish.
I do the best I can
To give you want you ask
But if I fail, it might not be
A very reasonable task.
I’ve never been good
At hiding emotions I feel.
I’m not Superman
And Superman isn’t real!
So names will not hurt me
But sticks and stones will.
Maybe I’m not the guy
That perfectly fits the bill.
Maybe I should let you
Permit yourself to go free
And the same time you
Would then release me
I’ve never been good
At hiding emotions I feel.
I’m not Superman
And Superman isn’t real!
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 11:22 PM UTC
I. centipede:
-
They come from both directions and it doesn't take long
for me to realize that they've figured me out.
My mind was fast, but not as swift as the hands
of five-hundred outreaching hands; one angry crowd.
Grabbing at limbs, low and high, they don't waste a second
before tearing me in every direction; at least the cardinal four.
My mind takes flight, leaves fancy, but not before
I get in one last swear, and one last spittle in their faces.
II. snake
-
Tail and head aren't in sync this morning, I tell ya.
No rattle, no bite, just a lot of traffic and heat shimmers
in the one place I don't need to be today.
The people here act like they don't know me,
but they still turn their noses up when I empty my mug.
The waitress answers when spoken to,
but just stares in the time in between wheezing breaths.
I've got to get out of this county, this state.
III. scorpion
-
Ronny hasn't been on a roof since a couple years after we got married.
He wrapped his ankle in some gutters and took a spill;
his thigh popped right out of it's socket and he just dangled
like some kind of prize in one of those crane games.
Doctor says he can still have kids, and I know he can still get it up
from how he watches that ****** **** on t.v.
But he wont touch me; hasn't in fifteen months, I've counted.
He's in for a surprise once the settlement clears.
IV. lizard
-
Wallflowers never get anywhere with their mouths sewn shut
and I cut my stitches well before my teens;
I got what I needed and I made sure of it.
But there is something to be gained from
basking in the naivety of youth and ignorance.
Trouble doesn't set in as well, and boredom comes
as some kind of waiting period, rather than the norm.
These bars are a reminder of why they don't let me make the rules.
V. toad
-
Invulnerable, incontestable, unphasable, archetype.
I listen for the right words to drop the shields,
but I'm only met with the silence that accompanies
asphyxiation through means of wet wax paper.
The touch of phantoms tingle along my skeleton's core
telling me the time for lollygagging has long since passed.
Stand up, giant, you're running hot and the moon
keeps calling out, "follow the lit road home".
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
“Answer me, young hiker,
I wonder why you dread the rain;
invulnerable part of the same nature,
are the two of you not likewise?”
“Don’t you dare to claim,
we would be akin.
It is not the nature I am reaching for,
it is the acceptance towards it.”
-
“Oh, young hiker,
where is it you will go?
Is the wind pointing your direction
or is it your confidence?”
“Oh, you settled human,
no answer I will give to you.
A path, no doubt, exists,
the way but is concealed.”
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 11:09 AM UTC
Am still, watching myself keen,
As I dissolve now slowly unseen.
A phantom built painstakingly
On lies,half-truths,all hidden guilt.
Worldly bar of expectations heavy,
Affecting false and burdening a levy.
I dared, only for you my sacred lover,
My humanity too,so desperate to flower.
I'm now destiny broken,so invulnerable,
Barriers none whatever,nothing indefensible!
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 4:27 PM UTC
Himself it was who wrote
His rank, and quartered his own coat.
There is no king nor sovereign state
That can fix a hero's rate;
Each to all is venerable,
Cap-a-pie invulnerable,
Until he write, where all eyes rest,
Slave or master on his breast.
I saw men go up and down
In the country and the town,
With this prayer upon their neck,
"Judgment and a judge we seek."
Not to monarchs they repair,
Nor to learned jurist's chair,
But they hurry to their peers,
To their kinsfolk and their dears,
Louder than with speech they pray,
What am I? companion; say.
And the friend not hesitates
To assign just place and mates,
Answers not in word or letter,
Yet is understood the better;—
Is to his friend a looking-glass,
Reflects his figure that doth pass.
Every wayfarer he meets
What himself declared, repeats;
What himself confessed, records;
Sentences him in his words,
The form is his own corporal form,
And his thought the penal worm.
Yet shine for ever ****** minds,
Loved by stars and purest winds,
Which, o'er passion throned sedate,
Have not hazarded their state,
Disconcert the searching spy,
Rendering to a curious eye
The durance of a granite ledge
To those who gaze from the sea's edge.
It is there for benefit,
It is there for purging light,
There for purifying storms,
And its depths reflect all forms;
It cannot parley with the mean,
Pure by impure is not seen.
For there's no sequestered grot,
Lone mountain tam, or isle forgot,
But justice journeying in the sphere
Daily stoops to harbor there.
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as now
we end
a cold anger
has almost
killed my kindness
turned me
into granite
lethal insults
hurled with fury
shatter on my skin
leave me
untouched
I have become
quite invulnerable
to human outrage
maybe this is
what I resent
most
* * *
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 4:55 PM UTC
Before the mist cleared and the gates opened
A bright star shot straight up in the heavens
emanating freedom fiercely
A dark dragon followed...stalking his prey
The star flew and flew with uncharted speeds
Until it reached the edge of the universe
The dragon mimicked every move of the star
Through and through to that mysterious edge
As the dragon approached the star he became puzzled
Presuming that the star had been chaste
Only to find a grinning blade in the fangs of Sirius
The cunning companion of Orion
Now the two stood tall, eye to eye
Each roar echoed throughout
A flash and blast, collision beyond grasp
Then the dragon took flight after seeing his own fears
For the wolf's heart was pure
Which reflected the dragon's demons
Disturbing the dragon's focus
exposing his true nature
The dragon blew flames ablaze behind at the wolf as he took to the sky
Only to have them brush away from the incandescent, invulnerable fur and flame of the star
The beast took hold of the dragon's tail by his claws and climbed to it's head
With a strike of ferocity the star came down with the dragon's eyes
As the wolf stood strong with his trophy
The dragon did cry and then fell in a frenzy down the edge of reality
The wolf gave the eyes to his sons
So that dragon would have to beg or fight a wolf
If he were to ever gain his eyes into this world again
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 10:05 PM UTC
My first glimpse of
Operatic joy occurred
March 12th of years past.
In their foolishness,
They allowed me a go
At an open vehicle of
Two wheels
that went as fast as I wanted,
Where I wanted,
For however long I wanted.
I would bike away in my dreams
As they mounted assaults in life,
I couldn't help but feel invulnerable
Upon my nimble ride.
Yes O yes,
I still cruise to this day.
My freedom is mine
Forever to behold and make.
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 12:14 AM UTC
A black cat with a grin and
A scythe, slashing thru
Space-time with a giggle
Invulnerable & finite. Untouchable rabbit
Stretches it's torso many meters out
Evading a cannonball.
Time to go to work; no doors here!
Rabbit shaped hole in the wall
Ever never fear!
4 Thirty minutes on a Sat. morning network
Talking animals accordion back
From falling crate crushes
Index fingers stretch their cheeks
Ha ha ha ha!
& a wagging red tongue, almost all week.
Piano dangling by a thread
Shrinking Shadow under your feet
It's right above your head!
You step aside just in time -
An anvil smashes you instead.
Too hard to explain to a real-lifer:
This has no point!
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 1:44 PM UTC
Let me see you at your core,
Your very tip of the root.
Without your make up,
Or your eye liners,
Let me see you face to face.
Just your fresh face,
And with all your glorious wrinkles,
Your purists form of your face.
I'll kiss you on your precious forehead,
On your smooth cheeks,
Then on your big red lips.
Brushing upon your back
then move to the beats of your chest,
and two nerves connect with each other's pulse
Like two symbiotic impulse understanding each neurons,
while passing through cerebrum to metaphysical emotions.
All the angst to the deep fears we share,
then come to a reconciliation that we are one,
and we shall be invulnerable.
That no matter the time,
or end of time,
and in after life become invincible.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
Skin supplanted by steel,
As pigment falls to paint,
A hollow duralumin chariot,
Ridden by the affluent,
Fortuitous souls, borne to their heart's requests
Down from below, as antipodes clash,
The behemoth clamors, with metallic clangs,
Conflicting privileges, one invulnerable,
Touted lands turned to tarnished wastes,
With a destiny targeted at armageddon,
Humanity's fate glides, like the zeppelin.
Oct 6, 2020
Oct 6, 2020 at 12:36 AM UTC
Man is the only being who knows he is alone
This morning, let me drink the silence
Let me swim in my own solitude
Being the profoundest condition
Of my humanity, you’d think
I should get to know her better
Intimacy and silence, that’s all
There every is, I cannot often
Penetrate another being with my love
Since surrender must occur mutually
And there are times my emotion
Does not require reciprocity
This morning, let me forget about altruism
For we all deserve the dream
Beyond myself, somewhere, I shall
Then wait for my own arrival
The slow enlightenment of lifetimes
Because two bodies, naked and entwined
Soul and body, mind and heart must somehow
Learn to live together and leap
Over time, we are not invulnerable
However in the silence of today
I realize there are no yesterdays, no names,
No you and I and no tomorrow
This morning, I want to give myself up
To something higher than I ever was.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 9:22 AM UTC
Like a toothache its always there
that little bit of doubt that ***** with me.
I forget about it once in a while
on busy days, on days I spend fixing things
but on other days I can hardly breathe,
the weight of my existence oppressive,
the fear that letting go might overwhelm me
or you --or us --or create an awkward angle,
a weapon to wield in future wars.
I know you wonder where I go
and if I knew
I would have already shown you
instead I frown
to hide the fact that I am happy.
You are everything I’ve always wanted,
your vulnerability sincere
of course you know I’d never hurt you
but how can you tell
through the fog of my hiding?
You say you know me like no other,
you see behind my eyes,
you see my inner workings,
you hold my heart in your hands
and still I pretend to be in control,
invincible, invulnerable.
l rely on music too much to touch my soul
And I sense you sometimes wish you were
the music so you could touch my soul
but you already are and you already do.
I’d give you my soul but honestly
I’d rather you take it by force,
tie me down and **** me, but time
the great teacher tells you that
in that watershed moment
an awful lot could go wrong.
I want to promise you it would be fine
but I can’t. I want to give in and
let you overtake me passionately,
overrun me sexually, I can feel
the blood flow, I imagine your soft lips,
your eagerness, don’t ever let me
discourage that part of you.
But isn't it selfish that I would ask you to carry on at
the peak of the universe with one foot in heaven
and one foot in hell with no guarantees either way?
Like a spark to dynamite my fuse when lit might run
or walk, take its time, fizzle out, rush to finish
no one knows, least of all me.
You only want what is yours by right
I want you to want it as well
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
summer is nearing its end and I find myself mourning its loss
never have I considered myself one suited for the heat--
the sharp flames of raging arguments are enough to burn me to a crisp
but I smell the heady scent of smoke, thick with ash and cooking food
and I hear the birds sing to each other as if it were their last time
and the sky is blue and clear and it stretches onwards to the sun, which is setting in shades of coral and ocean brine
I feel the loss keenly in my chest, a bittersweet longing for the summers in which I lit up the sky with how brightly I shone
scorched and forged, my heart of hearts was unyielding and flooded my body with luminosity that rivaled the stars themselves
invulnerable and filled with a relentless energy that could not be stopped
until it burned out alone
I miss those days where I felt as if I were controlling the sea itself,
pulling and pushing like a brand new moon
the days where I flew so high on swings and sand dunes I thought I may never come down
where everything fit in the center of my palm and I held on tightly because no one could shatter my world
but these days, I sit and watch as the real star settles down to sleep beneath the ocean waves
and feel my skin become painted by the swathes of color in the sky
the sounds of motors and sirens remind me that I am no longer floating above it all
my brief flash long since faded, just as any other firework lit at dusk
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 9:34 PM UTC
when i feel weak and weary
my mask is proud and cheery
while my face is flawed
i know my mask still holds strong
it shields me from questions
it holds my tears
my mask is brave
while i have fears
but it is not invulnerable
it too can crack
and my mask lets out
the things i hold back
so if you see a frown
if you see it break
if my mask slips down
if my shoulders shake
from tears, from fears
from horrors of my mind
please just look away
my mask and i will be just fine
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 7:02 PM UTC
and anyone who finds solace in the company of poets*
Adorn us
with you writing,
run from the smug,
the pretentious non-believers
into the arms of poets
who awaiting
your new words
with the hard panting hunger
of true lovers
this is my simplest invitation,
Grace us with you grace,
with subtle signs kiss our heart places,
for poetry,
good and bad
has never turned anyone away
and never will
accept this write
with permanence of ink on paper,
cannot be erased or taken back
mine, yours, ours,
ink invulnerable to
delete
here here, are the preeminent
awaiting all your attentions,
feed us, you poets,
rivers, railway stations, unfamiliar gods,
Missouri to Malaysia,
the images
we neglected,
too far away for our limited vision,
but that you saved,
as gifts of touching lips,
miners in the crevices of the soul
I thank god for the company of poets and the kindness daily,
they bring to hearts,
all I ask is,
more...
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 9:22 AM UTC
Memories aren't made to be broken,
Yet lie in shards, each piece
Refracting unframed pictures.
Promises aren't made to be broken,
But words are malleable.
Hearts are too often broken, quartered
And flung to the elements.
Spirit cannot be broken
Under any crushing worry.
And love,
Away or dwelling,
Encompassing love;
Battered, betrayed,
Exalted, praised;
Spent like money,
Treasured, yet free as air.
Most invulnerable,
Most vulnerable;
Frail and omnipotent.
Unbreakable.
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 9:37 AM UTC
I’m sliding down the ladder of life
Doing the Jacob thing in reverse.
Most of the people I meet now
Are either medical doctors or a nurse.
I’m in that phase where my hearing
Is about as good as my vision.
I don’t walk all that well at all
Due to my aging condition.
That’s the way things sometimes go
You might be clueless or you might know.
There may be signs so you can guess
Or you may find yourself a total mess.
Looking back over who I have been,
Like most of the young, I didn’t forsee
Or take much to heart the chances
That things like this would happen to me.
I thought myself invulnerable and
Incapable of ever growing old
Callously heeding no elders’s words
I simply refused to be told.
I thought the warnings I heard
Were from some clueless wags
And burned candles at both ends
Until the wick began to sag.
Now the creamy sooth skin,
Or what version I once ever had,
Begins to betray with brown spots,
And I admit it once made me mad.
But I have managed to accept
Many of the shortcomings of tomorrow.
It’s the loss of mobility I dislike;
That delivers me so much sorrow.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 6:01 PM UTC
Déjame reposar,
aflojar los músculos del corazón
y poner a dormitar el alma
para poder hablar,
para poder recordar estos días,
los más largos del tiempo.
Convalecemos de la angustia apenas
y estamos débiles, asustadizos,
despertando dos o tres veces de nuestro escaso sueño
para verte en la noche y saber que respiras.
Necesitamos despertar para estar más despiertos
en esta pesadilla llena de gentes y de ruidos.
Tú eres el tronco invulnerable y nosotros las ramas,
por eso es que este hachazo nos sacude.
Nunca frente a tu muerte nos paramos
a pensar en la muerte,
ni te hemos visto nunca sino como la fuerza y la alegría.
No lo sabemos bien, pero de pronto llega
un incesante aviso,
una escapada espada de la boca de Dios
que cae y cae y cae lentamente.
Y he aquí que temblamos de miedo,
que nos ahoga el llanto contenido,
que nos aprieta la garganta el miedo.
Nos echamos a andar y no paramos
de andar jamás, después de medianoche,
en ese pasillo del sanatorio silencioso
donde hay una enfermera despierta de ángel.
Esperar que murieras era morir despacio,
estar goteando del tubo de la muerte,
morir poco, a pedazos.
No ha habido hora más larga que cuando no dormías,
ni túnel más espeso de horror y de miseria
que el que llenaban tus lamentos,
tu pobre cuerpo herido.
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