"irredeemable" poems
Deplorable: that's her election
as it veers in a ****** direction.
Though some mention Lewinsky,
it's really Alinsky
revealed as her true predilection.
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
Hubby,
Our fractured laugh is irredeemable.
It Is reinforcing the heroic microbes.
to brainstorm some tiny schemes.
with a lack of delicacy and tact
to recur the same cynic nights of devastation,
incorporate the sores into our throats; a full-time personification of tangible intrusion, directly to the full portrait of the Meningitis itself.
Distracting the law of the incubation hours for all strains, overpowering the blood cower, and hovering over our jaded hoarse, sneering at our last appalling psyche-knot
After this creative detention,
I’m invoking another forever torpor inside of our hearts' beats to pose another irrevocable damage that would perpetuate a close depiction of da Vinci’s Last Supper masterpiece.
Honey, Light yourself with a viral-bacterial whirlwind and sink into its bleakness beside my bewitching bind.
I'm still loving you despite all my infections.
amid the urge to enfold your tsunami and swallow its combination
Fortunately, we have survived so many different tragedies together, as a full piece of plague
above Utopia.
- The Poetic Soul
Jul 28, 2023
Jul 28, 2023 at 9:54 PM UTC
at some point, you just know that
you have got to let them go
of the first time we connected
all those memories we both established
those quirks, my quirks
and remained are flaws, irredeemable flaws
of the places we visited
and of the places that could have been
they now remain as stolen dreams
and retain in them, nightmares born
to its deserving king
of the ideas and lies that
perpetuated my thoughts
to you and for you
like a love that stalks rather
than one you wish I would have
of you
he who once was the sun to me
whose smile was solace like the moon
and though, most probably, it was all built in lies
it was something, truly moving
but remains in the sky, was nothing
that is why these things have to go
the stains that once belonged
and in their places are impressions, gone
what now remains, if they wish to remain,
are dreams that turned into nightmares
ghosts that I long ignored
love once harbored
and... you
Dec 13, 2023
Dec 13, 2023 at 9:58 AM UTC
My visual field flashes white in a moment of highest swelling heart
white light dissipates following blackness of my hearts lowest sundried hurt
my view of oppressively low hung clouds questions any earthly sensation, twerked torture
of a selfinflicted radiation of irredeemable gloom, hung by self
The acrid ebony of my soul dissipates to an antique comfort with love stretched infinity
I then breathed an atmosphere of sorrow; snapped, shattered infinity into a pile of broken windows
My call of a family of evil given in an intolerable agitation and searched remedy
led to be found abandoned within a continual struggle of grim phantasm
Necessity spake in me, called one milihelen enough to launch my remaining ship
a cadavorness of complexion, forced portside of me when crystal ships started to drip with lies
a guttural utterance whispered blankly, alluded keine endurance
as I could only wear certain textures, and not endure the physical elements of this sensory deprived flower
My conjured will, looks upon the morbid moral of an undiagnosed existence
if not unreservedly found in the recesses of self
rosie cheeks forced not by pleasure, but screamed excitement of eternal enjoyable nothing
as my visual field flashes white with a moment of highest swelling heart
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 9:30 PM UTC
*Alone, she collects pebbles
from the sands of seashore
only to throw back each
with all her might, as if
its her revenge;
all of a sudden she stops
throwing them
back on the flat waves,
just to see them leapfrog,
a few times and vanish.
A sandcastle, he was busy
building on damp sand,
laboring alone like a child,
as if it means a lot,
but the spires refuse to
stay up, collapse again and again
against his wish.
it has become a total mess,
irredeemable for him alone,
or even with some help.
Perturbed he looks,
at the very moment-
from somewhere close by,
wind brings the overpowering stench
of rotting sea weeds and dead fish,
that makes them both look up
at once, by chance
and gaze at each other's face
as if they don't
recognize each other,
for a long, long moment.*
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
Sometimes we want something until we find out what it takes to get it
Other times we want something despite what it takes to get it
Ego
Security
Bad companies
Bad habits
Being left stranded in the openness of what's unknown to us
So many times I've wondered what it takes to be free
And after mistakes and irredeemable losses I came across honesty
Honest loving
Honest hating
Honest anger, sadness, even apathy
Boldness
Opening up. You are vulnerable, despite your efforts
Freedom demands for you to lose your sense of self
Only through transparency do we become weightless and lose our strings
And freedom is, most certainly, the joy of feeling no strings attached.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 5:05 PM UTC
inspired by a short story from the man from Snake River
<>
no alarm clocks heard expiring,
unrequired and unrequited,
we,
those, self-employed by the
nocturnal repetitive recounting
of sins of omission and worse,
those commissioned in
anger and haste, that breed only
more anger and lay further waste
from humans to
humans,
awaken with an
irregular precision
and bad disorder,
demanding chances,
expiation, restitution, amendment,
but time erodes
possibilities for the
impossible,
foreign forgiveness
knock-you-down rushing currents
of water erodes Snake River boulders,
them oldsters just like the litany of our
malfeasances, indestructible in nature
geologic,
and in
human nature
illogic,
terms, such as time measurements,
irreverent and irredeemable,
for our sins
live far longer than
our owned memories,
in those harmed, who
cannot in the unlimited timeless quantity of
ever ever,
understand
your wry smile,
your why cries,
audibles you’ve
play called, go
unheard, unseen,
even and odd
Bach Orchestral Suites,
Beethoven Sonatas
more mock than soothe
trapped between industrial carpet
and flat unpainted Armstrong ceiling tiles,
you
in a hell of your own creation, forgot to include,
a Sabbath day extant, of rest for weary creators,
ever ever,
or planned in a world you’ve designed,
so the best you
can do
is write
another and another
confession ever ever
watching and listening to
the alarm clock that neither
requires setting, for
it’s audible ticking is
alarm-ing curse
enough ever ever
that always never
rings
Dec 5, 2023
Dec 5, 2023 at 8:50 AM UTC
Jealousy is the fool
That has God running around
Thinking He can get better than me
He is giving him the wrong advice.
Because at the end of the day
He finds out he has to start again.
Is he playing god for a fool?
If he is what price will his sin demand?
Will his redemption be established?
He is green with envy for us
Humans.
He is the mark of imperfection
That has blinded eyes divine
He creeps up on him pure n innocent
Tempts him to **********
Leaving a stain that taints his purity.
Jealousy you are full of zeal
You fool!
You have drank too much wine
You’re high on your own supply
You blind the gods and tempt fate
You roam the earth with empty threats.
I loathe you name.
I heard you ruined something beautiful
You came between them.
It’s no surprise.
You have a nature that is irredeemable.
Untainted blood cannot help you
Your soul cannot be saved.
You are ****** to eternal infinity.
The day you roamed earth
And beheld the sons of men
Your envy got the best of you.
You wickedness has tempered with your heart
Darkened is you soul indeed
I hope you rot in hell
If anyone deserves to die it’s you.
My mistake: I have honored you
For this I loathe myself.
I have put you on my lips,
It’s almost like a kiss.
But like Judas did Christ see I betray you.
And for this I hope they crucify you
You ******* cursed is the day you were made.
How can some claim you have affiliations with love?
You have no soul.
There is no way that you could ever be that real.
There wrong or they have simply been perverted
With the infectious virus of you
So they believe your nonsense and eat your garbage.
I hope on judgement day
You’re first in line
You don’t deserve your day in court you *****
You should be condemned with no witnesses
You killed a generation.
You silenced dreams, and lives you've taken, mercilessly
You don’t deserve justice.
Crucify him.
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
Kozarev, thou remindeth me of the other one: thy innocence is just as such authenticity that never decays! Thy simplicity, yes-and oft'times omens of languidity, art indeed genuine! O, thy purity which bears no sin! Twists of daring passion that art so listed in thy eyes-brief and witty, yet calming but never at rest. My another, that disheartening past love back then, in the course of many a year ago-is now but a tiny flickering shadow of battered raindrops that I canst only sing of. Like a handful of worn-out ashes, his fatigue is of no more profoundness to me, and shalt it never findeth any further way to my heart. How he turned me-and my confident passion, down! Abrupt kisses as we had, and ah!-light strokes on my hair-all wert terrific, yes, t'ey wert, in th' first place-but suddenly over! But thou, indolent as thou art-docile and hysterical in some lyrical ways-thy soul is but the forest of an unknown world; what a jolly secret cave! Bathed in crisp mystery, engulfed in shallow pathos; a lump of love, young torpor-yet haunting and irredeemable felicity. Untouched as thou art, like a wordless, newborn infant-whose feet art contently groping in soulless darkness-until thou findeth the smiling light itself! O, be it me-be it me, my dear! Thou art but to me a glimpse of wrathless haze; rolling and dancing about as thou always art-in'a sheepish, childish maze.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 5:30 AM UTC
In the time it took me to start over
I died by your side with closure
on my self-imposed solitude
from every soul in a fighting mood
with inherited axes to grind
in line
to use the men’s bathroom
during the last game,
immune to the toxic byproducts
of extended cab pick-up trucks
circling the drain of
made up
settling sentiment trickling
through the air connecting
you lungs with mine,
an irredeemable line
in the low tide sand
and
inescapable memory holes
fret the yet again brethren
sending their regards
while they take up arms
against mended fences
wrestling
with a cost,
the interest,
and late fees eternal
grown from the infernal
jest we let foment
into rent checks and
a stale hex
revealed next
to nothing
in a book I did not write
that you read all the same
Jan 14, 2025
Jan 14, 2025 at 12:14 AM UTC
...breathe in.
...breathe out.
...breathe in.
It seems so simple. If we want to live, we need to engage in these basic, life-sustaining movements. Breathe, eat, drink, sleep. We cloud our minds with fears about those moments in-between... in the spaces we aren't quite sure how to handle.
Our breathing loses its depth. Our hearts begin their panicked sprint and our hands rattle with uncertainty. As our minds clog with doubt and apprehension, we begin to back pedal. Do we really needed to follow each exhale with an inhale? Could I hold my breath a little longer and do a little more? Could I die a little bit to live a little more? How far can our bones and spirits bend before they snap? How much death can I pump through my veins before the cardiac arrest of an engine without oil spills the contents of my well-maintained façade on the front porch of death itself?
...breathe in.
...breathe out.
...breathe in.
The emptiness of a self-imposed shallow grave pierces the best laid defenses of gold, glory, and gluttony. Previously plump posturing deflates to reveal sunken chests and dreams. Ordered beats give way to palpitations pushing the walking dead to, "speak now or forever hold your peace."
...but calloused hands and white-washed souls hold nothing more than fermented fears. Like a deceitful craftsman, fearing the testing of his work by the flames, we long for the warmth of the fire but fear our long-cherished idols will crumble to irredeemable ash.
...breathe in.
...breathe out.
...breathe in.
As the soot coats our weary lungs, a muted wave begins to lap at our roots.
...breathe in.
...breathe out.
...breathe in.
Joints creak back to exuberant life; the coarse rust giving way to polished jewel. Bread and wine flush the toxins and clear our eyes. Our searching hands at last placed in the rescuing wound we so long feared.
Wretched gives way to, "worthy."
...breathe in.
...breathe out.
...breathe in.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC
Correct it .. how?
My love for you ..
Special? I thought.
But that was so untrue ..
Being careful with this fire.
Trying not to burn our bridge..
Little good that did.
I was just a stupid kid..
Mistakes happen.
I’m sorry!..
Let me correct it..
Please just tell me how?...
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 4:06 AM UTC
I.
There is a sadness that I know,
a deep, crippling sadness that makes me freeze
in my tracks, as though the devil, smiling, were before me.
There is a girl that I know,
who I definitely don't deserve,
but I think about her every day of my life.
Once upon a time, she was mine,
and I was hers, and life was full of love.
That desperate kind of love.
That beautifully desperate kind of love.
Maybe it was because I was too young to die
and too scared to live. Maybe I was afraid that at the end
of the drive I was going to be kicked curbside,
abandoned at the corner of "How could you?" and "I still love you,"
just like the last time my life was full of love.
So maybe I did it before she could do it to me.
Maybe I felt the distance growing palpably between us.
The letters filled with X's and O's and clever sign-off's had stopped.
The small tokens of love which I had never been kind enough to return,
had stopped.
Maybe I was afraid that we had suddenly skipped fifty years,
with nothing to talk about but the fact
that I had grown tiresome, boring,
and had become someone that was just tolerable.
I left her. Anger in my heart, tears in my eyes,
I left her. I don't think that I wholeheartedly wanted to, but I did it.
I sat on the ******* winning lotto ticket, and I threw it to the streets.
II.
To this day, I want to kick the **** out of that scared little ****
who sat there, watching her weep and make the sounds that still
curdle my blood when I think about them.
And I do remember them, so vividly.
Because how could anyone forget the day that they crushed someone's soul?
When I went back to find that winning ticket I had
so carelessly thrown away, the numbers had faded.
The ink had run from all the raindrops, all those heavenly tears,
that had fallen on it.
Irredeemable.
An ocean of my grief would not be enough to express how sorry I am.
She's gone now.
Thousands and thousands of miles away.
Now all I can think about are things that poison my blood,
that make me ******* fall to my knees in pain.
Who might be kissing her.
Who might be sharing her bed.
Who might wake up next to her in the morning.
Who might treat her like the beautiful angel that she is.
Who might love her like she is magic,
because I know,
I ******* know that she is.
III.
All that I'm left with now is a sickening, maddening hope that
when she returns, we might try to light the fire again.
I love her too much to let go.
When she graces me with her smile, I feel as though I might
weep out of joy.
My soul dances to the rhythm of her laugh.
Though her eyes are the color of the sea in the middle of a storm,
there is so much warmth behind them.
I would lay myself down in front of the fire of our love forevermore,
if she would only let me.
Lord knows I don't deserve her,
Lord knows that I am irredeemable,
but I just don't think I can last much longer without her.
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 4:10 PM UTC
Whoever or wherever you are
should you look at the stars with their faint but self-assured light
know that somewhere in a far corner of earth
there's this weary old man who walks alone at night
heaving a long unrelieved sigh
for mankind's irredeemable plight
for demise of kindness and humanity
for untold sorrows of millions as nations fight
proclaiming:' Dulcis pro patria mori
the clamour roars and deafens in hateful might
never mind if civilians are sacrificed
we are on the side of right'.
How serene and content are the stars
nestled in the tender cradle of night
while we poor mortals *****
in self-destructive darkness---with no real hope of seeing the light.
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC
I have buried them alive---
the tatters of malformed thoughts
squelched at the root of my tongue,
wrought by murky fingertips in dreams.
Still, they bloom in me---
beyond my grasp, beyond all wisdom.
I cannot blot your poetry from my eyes,
Nor one gentle glance, nor untouched cheek.
If I say I love you, I will burn---
What I bear will be indelible, uncrucifiable
An incantation to raise the spirits of my sins,
irredeemable black curses to cast me from eden.
And should gardenias creep to my lips,
I will ***** them out, and plant acacia in my breath---
I will swallow the roots of their hearts,
and eat your fire eternally.
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
*I see her and air is snuffed
Out of my lungs in one swift
Swoop, my usually perceptive
Mind is a hodgepodge of disarray.
Speech is caught in the labyrinth
That’s my voice box choked from
All sides, an irredeemable hostage.
I stare long and hard at her eyes
Then I realize, her eyes aren’t
Ordinary, they’re a canvas on
Which the Milky Way galaxy is
Exquisitely captured. It’s this
Precise moment that a shrill
Mention of my name jolts
Me to wakefulness, and well
My heart’s a pitiful husk
After being exposed to two opposite
Extremes of emotional excitement.*
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 3:52 AM UTC
Torn.
Left in hopelessly, irredeemable shreds.
But you're over him,
You have been since the day
You picked up your pride
And left.
Brush it off your back,
Because there's no pity
For those who look back.
He may have another catch
Dangling grossly from his lie-invested lips,
But with one call
He would leap the distance
Between you and him
To fall into familiar oblivion.
Split.
Into empty, unrecognizable pieces.
But you're done with this,
You have been since
You kissed him one last time
and whispered in his ear
"Goodbye."
So grant her the freedom
To relive your old life.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
The peals of laughter, the smiles
The atmosphere was one of joy and tranquility
Shivers ran up his spine, it disgusted him,
The time had come, the end was near…
The burning desire to evoke pain,
The grave thirst to summon tears.
The murderer’s instinct to ****
The time had come, the end was near…
As the unnoticed silhouette crept by,
Irrevocable, irredeemable, insolent.
The assailant’s eyes filled with ardent desire,
The time had come, the end was near…
The screams, the pain, the sorrow,
The thirst which only tears and blood could quench,
His sole want-terror, his sole weapon-death,
The time had come, the end was here.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 12:29 PM UTC
She craved only attention
Looks can really ****
She overdosed on temptation
Just a broken soul convinced that her only match is pain
She falls apart
Each piece like a drop of rain
Rejecting love because she couldn't see its face
Mentally unstable because she's only been surrounded by inconsistency
Stumbling on false hopes
Hopelessly holding on to what she wish she had
Running through nobody's mind
Feeling utterly alone
She's lonely
Searching for just one dose of relief
She melts into her mixed emotions
Drowning in her tears
She's losing it
Finding nothing but her wasted time
I wanted to save her
But redemption was way too far
She's irredeemable...
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 1:10 AM UTC
Mother warned, lest I serve myself a ruthless course
To each, only one is bestowed, in all its rarity
For it, build Towers of stone devoid of frailty
With coats and cloaks knitted of seams impervious
Rid it of stark embrace, of the harshness of Age
And in this perfect solitude will its solace still yet lay
So shall thee in perfect peace remain,until that day
When this little gem will cease to be held hostage
Fluttered away by the fairness of coy chairty
And drenched in the hollow waters of flattery
Oh this tender heart of mine,in all these thrills did'st it find delight
Suddenly it tasted pain and in misery it did wallow
But fought in futility to rise, and thence-forth did it stay so
Mother warned, yet my new dwelling is found in irredeemable plight
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
in the park where squirrels peep and gibber
and the grass is brown, where the green died brownley...
there's a mark
on the world -
where we never fetched turtles
or lay languid in the shade,
but a place removed
and a day
wasted.
i see your charms as a heap of bleed.
and i forgive you all I give for ...
but i mark this place.
i brand it and sear my name
in the flesh
of our fresh regret, and stammer
in the sunshine
of our irredeemable
suns
the suns
that moons mock
and orbits abandon
to get on with the business
of sleeping through
a dream.
and you approve.
and i remain
unsleeped.
like a withered fruit
unpeached.
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
Just as quickly Catullus met
his fantasy and despaired,
and a thousand-hundred kisses
became irredeemable.
The fool fell for the folly
of a sparrow; Taibhsear
fell from the wisdom of a
raven.
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 9:39 AM UTC
I said your name aloud too many times
it started to sound
alien
and feel like old chewed up bubblegum
stuck to the bottom of a shoe
spread thick
between the cleats
disgusting
and irredeemable
how many times
can I tell myself something
before it becomes
a[lie]n thick
and sticky like gum
and so disgusting
-ly untrue
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
I disbelieved at first,
Remembering your pianist fingers dragging through my hair. Remembering
My hand in yours, you turning it over, marveling at the smallness.
Yet in the truest corner of my thoughts
I knew my time was running out; you had said you loved her,
Somewhere unrecorded, hopefully.
So this death dirge soft shrill in my ears - this nagging unconsciousness,
This plodding inevitability, reached its crescendo and bellowed.
Discontent to pass quietly, it trumpeted like a drunken elephant,
The Third World clash of car horns and splitting concrete,
Constant and irredeemable.
Hughes swallowed Plath like a pike. No one
In your charade did such a thing, ever managed to
Consume the other. Still, it was a dance of
Damnation, spiraling around your loose definitions,
Waiting with bated breath for someone to fall into mediocrity. The
Slave can never rule the master. Remembering
You on your knees before her, begging for a sip of
Non-alcoholic beer - I wanted to ***** so badly,
From jealousy, from lust, from sheer disgust. I was a slave
Worshiping a slave. In that moment, we were finally near-equals. I hated us both.
It hurt. You dabbed distilled water
Onto the cuts you accidentally created, standing up to
Defend me from prying friends and awkward moments, but never
From yourself. Not that I needed to be. The ache from the unit of you
Was exquisite. I was so distracted by the burn -
So used to lying in cliched darkness, so refreshed to be slain daily by resurrection -
That I failed to hear the first drums of funeral march renew.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 11:49 AM UTC
Earbuds blasting
Curls cascading down her back like a waterfall
Her black swimsuit shapes her broken frame
hugging her tight
Tighter than he did during her sleepless nights
She stood staring at the abandoned pool in front of her
Her eyes became a steady relentless stream
Filling the desolate expanse
She crumpled to her knees, emotionless
No one came here
To the empty pool
Or the girl who filled it with her tears, just to swim
Every tear held what she saw with him
Everything she experienced with him
The way he said, I love you
How he held her close when he taught her to kiss
Not yet in the pool
She already held her breath
To keep from drowning
Crawling towards the pool of tears
She looked inside
The boy was looking right back at her
One smile was all it took
Shattered, broken, irredeemable
The pool dragged her in
And she laid herself next to him
Promising to never leave
Kissing him
Just like how he taught her
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 7:20 PM UTC