"irretrievably" poems
Under the arch of Life, where love and death,
Terror and mystery, guard her shrine, I saw
Beauty enthroned; and though her gaze struck awe,
I drew it in as simply as my breath.
Hers are the eyes which, over and beneath,
The sky and sea bend on thee,—which can draw,
By sea or sky or woman, to one law,
The allotted bondman of her palm and wreath.
This is that Lady Beauty, in whose praise
Thy voice and hand shake still,—long known to thee
By flying hair and fluttering hem,—the beat
Following her daily of thy heart and feet,
How passionately and irretrievably,
In what fond flight, how many ways and days!
12.3k
the slime of all my yesterdays
rots in the hollow of my skull
and if my stomach would contract
because of some explicable phenomenon
such as pregnancy or constipation
I would not remember you
or that because of sleep
infrequent as a moon of greencheese
that because of food
nourishing as violet leaves
that because of these
and in a few fatal yards of grass
in a few spaces of sky and treetops
a future was lost yesterday
as easily and irretrievably
as a tennis ball at twilight
8.4k
brick by brick.
piece by piece.
there was that night in the alleyway
when you confessed that you loved me
[*the words pouring out of your mouth
like oil onto water*]
and these words collided with my wall
dropping abruptly
to the ground
like the raindrops that were
falling from the heavens
onto our eyelashes.
day by day.
each by each.
it was that night in the alleyway
when you admitted you love me
and you see me
and you hear me
and you
know me.
and i know you.
it was that night when one of my
bricks toppled to the
ground, liberated by your
perfect imperfection.
we are insane, yes.
having known each other a
minuscule fraction of
a lifetime and wanting to
spend the rest of it with
one another.
but these bricks
[which were
lying heavy on my
sprightly soul]
were ****** to the ground,
emancipating me from my
encumbering wall
as you began to
pour into the spaces
where they once persisted.
you replace my opposition to
vulnerability with the kind of love
i have fervently yearned for,
craved and desired
night by night.
each by each.
the clock strikes 11:11,
it's always you i had wished for.
for now i know;
if you hope hard enough,
it works.
for a person like me
[a person like us]
letting this guard down
is almost as arduous as
quantum physics.
or advanced chemistry.
or seeing someone you love
in tears.
i feel that i am destined for you
so much so that i can
easily
imagine being this older couple
i once saw at the park,
holding hands and living like they
were still 21.
and i wished to God that i would
find that love.
dear God, i don’t even know
if i believe in you but...
thank you for
sending him to me.
he is it.
he is endgame.
there are some things that a
heart just knows. my god, i
feel him with me when i am alone,
[i can barely breathe without him]
and know that he should have been
holding my hand all along,
holding my all, all along.
he is my ultimate karmic
retribution.
[*chapped lips,
countless kisses.*]
never be scared, my dear.
never doubt my love.
for as you say you will never
leave me, it will be in my arms
that you will always stay.
there are just some things
a heart knows.
brick by brick
piece by piece
day by day
each by each
we will crush our
doubts and fears.
hesitations and tears.
i am madly, madly
irretrievably and
blissfully
in love with you.
my dear,
we are meant to be.
you are living,
breathing poetry.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
Curiousity lasted across an expanse
Venality put chastity in a menacing trance
The future once appeared open and vast
The ecstasy vision of childhood never seems to last
When its' beautiful stainlessness begins to slowly fade
Irretrievably lost in an unfair trade
Approval rushed and reproach is strong
Is it possible to recover something once its gone?
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
Has democracy irretrievably gone to the dogs?
Every beast congregates here; coyotes to hogs!
Supposedly most selfless of acts
Cover up the worst and the inept.
Crocodile tears apart, they hanker only for populist tag!
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC
Number 8 on the list.
8. The parties marriage is Irretrievably Broken
Those words cut so deep in my chest I gasped aloud reading them.
I haven't loved you in like, FOREVER!
So why this? Why now? I don't want to feel this, this pain, this despair, this regret.
You deserved to lose me.
You cheated and lied,
Broke my heart a million times.
And now that it's on its way to being really over, I am almost sorry we didn't try harder, love more, hate less.
MySpace and Facebook, italiansinglesmeet, xdating...
I could go on...
But it only angers me.
Because at the end of all of it, after everything you did, all the horrible things, after 4 years of no communication...
You finally realized what I told you right before I left you was true:
You will Never find someone who will love you the way I did, and someday you will realize I was the best thing for you. And by the time you realize it, I will be unattainable.
I'm the one that got away.
And that feels **** good.
Irretrievably broken.
Yeah. Your fault. Your loss.
See ya.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
i used to write poems about our reunion
in some brooklyn cafe
before i knew what distance between us
actually was.
no matter how many times it happens,
i am amazed at the capacity of human beings
to grow together
and grow apart.
what i’m trying to say is,
i miss you.
i used to connect the dots of your freckles
while you spent hours
coaxing food into my stubborn
mouth
i was restless and cynical and
i would never tell you when anything was wrong
you had more patience with me
than i deserved
i’ve been convincing myself for years
that you’re nothing more
than an old wound,
but the truth is
there’s a part of me that won’t ever make sense
unless someday, somehow
i see you again.
there is a small place in my heart
that has never stopped
waiting
(and i can’t quite convince it
that you are irretrievably gone)
so maybe it isn’t wrong,
maybe one day
we’ll find our way together
again
and you’ll have grown our your beard
and i’ll have cut off my hair
and i swear
maybe you’ll be wearing
those old jeans
and we’ll talk about the way
i used to untie your shoelaces
under the lunch table
(as if i wouldn’t still
drop everything and marry you
if you would
only
ask)
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 12:22 PM UTC
I’ve been thinking
about death a lot lately—
or, that is, I think the image
my brain’s been showing me.
The vestiges of the visage
of who I used to be haunt me;
and in the crickets of my slumber,
I couldn’t help but wonder
about death a lot lately.
The quarks and the quasars I inherit
from the big bang of long ago—
elements that form Mercury—
collide back and forth, and
these are pangs that wouldn’t go,
and it has been deathly difficult
meandering out of this hole.
I’ve been lost in myself—thinking
about death lately so droll.
The synapses fire and misfire;
the subsonic trappings bellow
in the cave of my deep below.
These black-and-white films
feel rewired [rewritten annals]
of which I existed since long ago.
I resonate now an unholy see
of white-noise hellos; or:
the slow slipping of my psyche
around death a lot lately.
The string of unforced errors
does all but help me be still;
yet still the terror rises each
time I open my eyes to this
farce that I’ve been waking up to.
Since your “I don't care for you,”
I've never felt so unwanted;
as my heart opened and bruised,
my soul aches for yours dotted
along my arms so they feel whole.
I unravel when you’re in my mind;
in those twilight hours of just us,
for those unmeasured hours,
you were irretrievably mine.
And doubt may blur what we feel,
and walls may [and can] fall,
and in those moments so real—
yes, surreal—
and for those days that we were,
I haven’t thought about
death at
all.
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 2:08 PM UTC
She turned to a stone, before his unbelieving eyes!
in earlier times this would be counted as the result of a curse,
an analysis, on how it happened seemed futile, so he didn't pursue
He chisel and hammer ominously were left somewhere,
she was irretrievably trapped, within a queer shaped stone .
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 2:40 PM UTC
there is a numbed feeling
one of exclusivity
that suggests
a solitary reconnaissance
one of orientated purposes
where moods are reflectively animated
in individual focus
in order to infiltrate
a non sharing experience
but the feeling abruptly stops
it is a synchronized wound
it is the assassination
of the distant and complex
terminals of the human mind
i am irretrievably shocked
poeple live
but there are really no survivors
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC
I exist at a depth, beyond wallowing and sorrow
Where No emotion could reach, except love
But love has betrayed me, love
has left me strewn and sown;
Haphazardly, irretrievably, sown
I stand now, not broken.. unfixed,
Unhinged.. from pain, from grief
Removed from tears, my heart; a sieve
that is unwanted by love, undesired by it.
Though it dwells in me it spares me no thought.
Though I have reached out,
I am held down like Atlas
The tension is unbearable, tearing;
at the self-inflicted knots, caverns of solitude
Pits of loneliness
Left unsaid, is the hurt
Gnawing at the pillars that once held,
carried the burning torch that lit up my soul
I am undone, I am alone.. I am alone
Apr 2, 2022
Apr 2, 2022 at 2:26 PM UTC
Within my body is a bird's perch
and you've gone and fluttered your way into my heart,
making your nest of love and memories.
Your song's sweet notes float their way into my soul
and make me hum a song of longing.
You've made a home in my heart, dear,
and I've grown so accustomed to you
that you've become a part of me now.
My ribs exist to protect you, not my fragile heart.
My veins carry your melody like oxygen,
my lungs and heart have moved
to integrate you into the synergy of my chest.
The effects of your presence are permanent,
there is no undoing your being.
There is no going back.
My love has gone out to you,
irretrievably, irreplaceably, unconditionally.
And even now, my body is already sore,
anticipating and dreading the day you fly away.
It aches in fear of you wrenching your home from my ribs,
shattering the protection I've maintained for you.
The shards of my bones and the splinters of your nest
will forever remain embedded within
my flesh and my mind for all of eternity.
You may decide one day that you want to return home,
and I will split open these bones of mine once again,
just to welcome you back.
But you might not want to come back, however.
And in that case just know that you live on;
in my mind forever loved and remembered.
This pierced heart will always beat to your rhythm,
your song will always flow through my veins.
My flesh will always remember the touch of yours.
Know that within your own ability to fly, you gave me wings.
As you've grown over time, I've grown as well.
Just know that I will always hum your song
to comfort and heal myself, even as you flutter away
and I clutch at my chest and my sheets
while a note of hope rises in my throat.
"I have this breath and I hold it tight,
to keep it in my chest with all my might,
I pray to god
this breath will last,
even as it pushes
past my lips
as I...
gasp."
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC
ive fallen for you
irretrievable , unconditionally and hopelessly
i can close my eyes and remember the way the patterns are arranged
in your eyes , forming that crisp hazel
breathtaking and hauntingly beautiful eyes of yours
i can even see your smell
it creates this image of purple lavender flowers and sandalwood
yes i have
ive fallen for you
irretrievable ,
unconditionally
and
hopelessly.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 10:04 PM UTC
Thing is,
I am a man of this modern world.
The people of this time are aware we have lost the ways of opulent formality and style.
Thing is,
We are confounded that because people expect us to simply be polite.
It is such an offense that we created a new term to redefine it: political correctness. We don't really worry about the correctness part, but we think a lot about the political part.
Thing is,
Politics and politeness are not synonymous.
Though we could be polite when discussing our politics, we rarely are.
It's no wonder, because we are deeply passionate about the rules that govern us.
Thing is,
We should forget about being politically correct. We should be, instead, politely correct. No matter where we stand, we can treat each other with a niceness that I hope is not irretrievably lost to our more formal past.
Thing is,
We lose a bit of our finess everytime we hold on to bitterness. Let go of fear. What do you have to lose?
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC
He maps out his explosive past
A rich colourful story
He flew among stars
Crashed in the dirt
Covering his eyes and blinding his sight
Sentiment covered by years of sediment
He can no longer see life
His vision and mind alike blurred and murky
He refuses to acknowledge
If he could recall the feeling
He'd know life is worth living
But I fear he's gone
Lost in the nights stars
Holding on tightly to all he's lost
He sits frozen to his chair
Unmoving and staring into another universe
The only thing he feels is
The bleak of nothing
Always present
Emanating cold fractals of sadness and despair
The weak feeling of better years blunted and dissipating as I write this
Poetry will preserve it
But he's lost in his past life
Irretrievably
Irreparably
Irreversibly
k.g.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 2:10 PM UTC
"God", did she "knows"?
"I" used to "miss"
"That" beautiful being and his lovely "heart"
"Helplessly" and "irretrievably"
"Although" I try to die "everyday"
"Darkness" happens to "her"
"While" it "corrupts"
"Kills" the effort of the man "and"
"Destroys", that hopeful heart of "him"
"But" there's so much "pain"
"He" had "held"
"So" easily and "recklessly"
"For" the sake of the "love"
"Hard" to prove and easy to "catch"
"Was" the last thing "said"
"By" the honored "him"
"As" the fool started "fading"
"With" incoherent "words"
"Meaning" the "end"
"You" should be happy "with"
"That" obnoxious "death"
"Is" sorrow what's "there"?
"Sadness", what's "crumbling"?
"But" those ends make awful "stories"
"Like" the end of the "light"
"Inside" the shadow "of"
"A" man scratching his "soul"
"Simple" thoughts and complicated "lies"
"Nobody" but he "rages"
"Because" he wants "everything"
"Is" he compelled to be "ended"?
"Or" to be "forgiven"?
"Hopeless" monster with a shadow of despair and "hate"?
"Or"
"Hopeful" heart with a glimpse of the beautiful light of "love"?
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 1:08 AM UTC
there is a feeling
one of exclusivity
that suggests
a solitary reconnaissance
of self orientated purposes
moods reflectively animated
in individual focus
in order to infiltrate
a non sharing experience
but the feeling abruptly stops
it is a synchronized cyber wound
it is the assassination
of the distant and complex
terminals of my mind
i am irretrievably shocked
there are no survivors
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 6:31 PM UTC
Yes indeed
"Music is life's
Sound Track!"
As on the rail of time
An old song verse
Transports us back
A decade or a score
Even more,
To recollect
A quality time
With a lover
We spent
Though probably
Now the boat
Is irretrievably lost.
Or it makes us remember
How with a life partner
We vowed to stick together.
May be it mirrors
The grief
When our close person
Turned brief.
What is more
The things we did marvel
When on a travel.
Also it could conjure up
In our head
A historic water-shade
To a new trend
That allowed a go ahead.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
To observe surroundings
Often results in the discovery
Of a momental occurrence - marvelously unique
Never replicated in both past and future
Madness
Is
Dullness to the glistening radiance of these everyday singularities
Hidden irretrievably in moments quickly passed.
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
This is not a poem, my dear.
This...
this is more than a code comprised of 26 letters, 10 digits, and a few punctuation symbols.
What you are carrying in your hand right now is more than just a few thousand pixels presented on a glass screen, it's more than just a string of words put together in prose.
What is being graced by those lovely hands and gorgeous eyes of yours is a piece of me; this is a tangible piece of my mind, darling. I give this (and many others like it) to you as a gesture of trust and love, but I just as well give this to you with a warning. I apologize if this seems...foreboding (among other things).
Along with my love, I present this piece of me unto you irretrievably. This is no childish box or chance trinket that needs wrapping. This...this is a glass-shelled grenade, darling. But don't worry, I've secured the pin with my heart-strings. This glass is blown from the grit and salt of my tears and sweat, my burning rage fueled the furnace. Splinters of my bones form the shrapnel, and a carved piece of my ever-beating heart fuels the whole mess.
This is raw. This is crude, it's unfiltered; call me Pandora, this is my box, in a way. It holds my hope, that someone will keep this piece of me safe, that someone like you will look past the crudeness and see the sentiment behind it.
This piece of me, I don't ask of you to string it up and wear it upon your breast, I do not ask you to flaunt it and keep it close to you at all times. Lock it up, shut it away, darling. It is not beautiful, neither am I. Feel free to bury it, go ahead and put it away. It is ugly, it is dangerous. You should not caress this piece of me, it is fragile and will not provide any comfort to you. I wish unto you no harm. I ask of you to keep it safe. Protect it from my demons, save it and myself from my nightmares. I apologize for the burden I have placed upon your graceful shoulders, but your inherent strength inspires me and gives me faith. I know I ask too much of you; you have my most sincere apologies.
I've given you everything I am, I have nothing more to give you.
You are perfect, my guardian angel, I am fragile and flawed...
protect me.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
last week, (i) spent almost every waking moment by your side,
yet my needy heart somehow still missed you terribly in the minutes and spaces in between.
the loneliness had started to find its way back again,
and i think maybe the fire in your soul was the one thing bright enough to burn it away.
or maybe that's not true
maybe it was (just) that you had started teaching me how to light my own matches,
beginning with the night you kissed my scars and read them like braille
and i was hopelessly drawn to the idea of outshining the universe,
since the last thing i ever (wanted) to do was weigh you down with all the ways i wasn't good enough
see, i used (to) feel irretrievably lost, laying awake every night wondering whether i was, or even could be, a good person
because we always (say) that life is short
but someone once reminded me that it is still the longest thing we will ever experience
and i am slowly realizing it might not be too late to become someone (i) don't regret seeing in the mirror every morning,
someone i don't mind you seeing.
this is also a brief apology for writing less lately
poetry was my medium for romanticizing reality
but it's getting harder and harder to create anything more beautiful than the (love) that's been glowing brighter in your eyes
and words can't seem to capture the way (you) smile like it's impossible to stop
i guess what i'm trying to say
is that you were always (too) good for me, miles ahead of the curve
but i would run beside you my whole life
if it meant that one day, i could finally be the kind of person you deserved
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
reece
i spent a few years being angry with you for stealing that first kiss and tainting a memory. i would never have wanted to describe that moment to my future children as it happened. fifteen and very drunk. you took the hope for a romantic first kiss, in a dimly lit room and flushed cheeks, and replaced it with being lustfully pushed into walls and cars and grazed knees.
you left me with the stink of your aftershave on the collar of my dress and two 'love' bites on the side of my neck.
conor
when i was fifteen, you were the apple of my eye. i am still sorry that i thought you were wasting time.
wasting time. that's why the whole thing fell apart for me, i had those typical naive teenage dreams. if i hadn't had got so mad, i wouldn't have let him kiss me.
our first kiss was cute and maybe i'll tell a white lie and describe it to my kids as mine. door step, holding hands, porch was lit.
jamie
you found me at the time of my life that i thought was bad. but now i see, it was simply the calm before the storm and that the worst was yet to be.
i was not allowed to even bring up your name on a social networking site without a backlash of hate.
maybe we crave for the forbidden, it originated from the garden of Eden but i do wonder if that apple had tasted as sweet as your kiss.
i can't tell you how much i enjoyed those very few weeks with you, you helped me to realise i deserved so much better.
now I've found it
we kissed under a staircase
billy
oh, how i wish your name was not on my list.
tom
maybe I am biased because I am currently irretrievably in love with you, but our first kiss was my favourite.
the very touch of your skin almost made me cry because you are just so soft and I was not used to a boy being so nice.
and how strange it is, to be so happy in your presence.
how strange it was, to spend the entire day in London showing you off.
I could not, for the life of me, recall one single face
of strangers we walked past on that day.
I tried to do things properly, no kisses on the first date, but it's hard to say no when you lean in and grab my face.
and during the kisses after that one, you were worried would ask my why my hands would shake and my lips would tremble
and I was sorry, but sometimes things that have been smashed clatter around a little
and I know it's a long shot, but I have to ask,
if our first kiss could be my very last.
train station goodbyes, the best and the worst.
but every kiss with you is as enchanting as the very first.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
A gossamer extravagance
More valuable than gold
But substance less as ether
Impossible to hold.
This is all the time we have
Every second past is lost
Irrretreivable to we
Who ,so nervously, count the cost.
Every mote of passing time
Fading from the now in mists
Losing shape’s integrity
Whilst coloured radiance desists.
What is soon to be, is now
And relegated fast to then,
Vanquished in a flick of fraud
Of stolen time to frantic men.
Like dust it pours through fingers
Seconds irretrievably depart,
Fleeing fast from consciousness,
Wrenched away from racing heart.
Lying in our skinny beds
We sweat away our seconds now,
Flicking eyeballs counting down
Till death eternal shows us how.
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
4 March 2012
© 2012 Marshal Gebbie
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 2:42 PM UTC
The Pain of Love
by Michael R. Burch
for T. M.
The pain of love is this:
the parting after the kiss;
the train steaming from the station
whistling abnegation;
each interstate’s bleak white bar
that vanishes under your car;
every hour and flower and friend
that cannot be saved in the end;
dear things of immeasurable cost ...
now all irretrievably lost.
Note: The title “The Pain of Love” was suggested by an interview with Little Richard, then eighty years old, in Rolling Stone. He said that someone should create a song called “The Pain of Love.” I have always found the departure platforms of railway stations and the vanishing broken white bars of highway dividing lines to be terribly depressing. Keywords/Tags: pain, love, parting, kiss, train, whistle, departure, platform, interstate, dividing, line, hour, flower, friend, lost, cost
Mar 25, 2020
Mar 25, 2020 at 4:43 AM UTC
You navigate the landmarks of my body
As if you are creating a map
Sailing into my calm black waters
Let me engulf you like a sea monster would destroy a ship
Drown on the shores of my lucid dreams
Under the shining crescent moon that is my smile
Your tongue is like the tentacles of a sea monster, wrapping around the caves of my back, dragging me into the waters depths
Lips forming blooming blossoms of anticipation
My body trembles under your magnificence
Like a God you look down upon your simpering creation
Begging for deliverance, to be thrown into the deepest of oceans
Fingers leaving a trail of tingling and goosebumps
A vicious yet caring touch
With the dangerous pull of a riptide
I feel as if you should drag me irretrievably out to sea
You memorise every dimple and every curve as you move your hands lovingly up my body: an explorer who has discovered the new world
Absorbed in each other's mouths
Your being floods mine
Gliding over me like a bird glides on air
Clouds in my vision, waves of shock thrillingly pulse through my body like waves ebbing and flowing
One and the same the moment lingers
Ragged breathing fills my ears like a strong gust of wind
Mind spinning like a compass
A new land you have conquered
KG
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 6:43 AM UTC