"jumpstarts" poems
You are who jumpstarts
And completes my day
And I love how
You wake my heart up
With a simple "Good morning"
And "Hey."
You are who soothes my nerves
And calms my mind
In the morning.
You are the warmth
That I seek
When it starts raining.
And you will always be
Like my favorite drink
When I am happy, down,
Or when I can't think.
I think...
I think I love you
The way that I love coffee.
Doesn't matter if it is hot, warm,
Iced, blended, with milk, without,
Sweet, pure, brown, black, bitter,
With chocolate or raspberry,
Single or double shot,
Even decaf.
It doesn't matter.
I love coffee because
It is coffee.
And [I think], I love you...
Because you are you.
You have good days and bad days.
And days when you lose control.
You are generally sweet and gentle and funny
But there are days
When your patience wears thin
And I see that a lot with you.
You have an active mind
And a creativity of a five-year-old
Your stories blow my mind
And are out of this world.
Yet there are days when
Your stories are sad.
And I still love you for that.
You are caring and protective of me
And loving and genuine and sincere
But sometimes you lie
And sometimes you hide
And your fear of questions, and your paranoia
Kind of offends me.
And even in days when you could be
Like a ticking time bomb
Waiting to explode
About to lose control
Believe me, it doesn't matter.
I am willing to take the blow
And I would try to defuse you.
But even if you hurt me
I think...
I know...
I would still love you.
Because you don't love coffee
Only when it is sweet.
Or creamy.
You love coffee if you get to appreciate it
In all its bitter glory.
And I want you to know...
I want to see the best
And the worst parts of you.
And I know...
Even then
I will still love you.
But I have to remind myself
To take it easy.
Because I might burn my lips
And my tongue
From your intensity.
But even then...
Though it hurts.
I will still be able to enjoy you.
I know...
I have been burned by coffee too.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 5:57 AM UTC
The clock is ticking its cardiac arrest,
minds fall into the spastic timing.
Well, my eyes are falling.
Whisper lashes on my cheeks
not my own.
A panther's sigh on a leopard's side
Little girl step into your woman shoes.
I keep my smile above the painted ruse
their lungs filling with icy air,
turning my words to vapor.
Rainbow arching over my head,
lead me to your futuristic *** of gold.
Is that feathers tickling the skin of my arms
or is that your hair?
Make the ceiling your ocean.
Salty smells
just sail away
Just when I think I've conquered the shadowy mockingbird in my mind,
my heart jumpstarts at false thunder rolls.
Tongue, decide between blood and caramel.
Run, you little fears as fast as you can
so I can bend over to pick some flowers.
Watch my dreams travel into your eyes,
I've fallen into their velvet hole.
Spaces are filled,
branches bending,
As my feet pound the dirt back where it belongs.
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 2:55 AM UTC
I mold like clay
in your rough calloused hands
and you shape me
with drunk eyes and fingertips
that **** my sensitive skin
like knives
The snow plants kisses
to the cloudy glass windows
that confine us together
and I tremble with the fear
of being carved
into something I never planned
or wanted to be
My stomach shrinks
and my spine curves
from the harsh conditions
of your malicious mind
that pushes me further
and further
into depths of myself
I never knew
existed
I am hazy over the idea
that once I was strong
and maybe even the kind of beautiful
that blooms flowers
and jumpstarts heartbeats
and makes the world
close its rueful eyes
even just for a little while
You are an artist
with a clear goal and path
and I hope to god
you let me dry out
for I am not
shiny and mesmerizing
like the ceramics that
populate your dusty shelves
I’ve been molded and shaped
and framed and built
by those coarse and icy hands
so that I am no longer what I used to be
but rather a blurry and ugly version
that makes my head
whirl like the blizzard outside of my
window
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Pupils like pins altered in transmission
A lump in the mind jumpstarts to life
It's only a matter of time before the malfunctions occur
For some tests and trials the result is cancer
Ask Moscow after fifteen years
Grasp your cellphone without an ounce of fear
Deny the facts right in front your face
or be a minority of one
Completely insane
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 11:25 AM UTC
Wind in my hair,
Sun on my skin...
Can't help to feel what I'm feeling within..
You reaching back,
Caressing my leg...
Don't stop this love,
Don't leave I must beg...
Your smile is a burst of energy
That jumpstarts my heart..
A blank sheet of canvas
Turned into speechless work of art..
When you held my hand,
I was ready to take the world on..
When you kissed my lips,
I felt as if a battle i'd won.
I saw you approach me,
I walked as fast as I could..
"Mi rey is here for me!"
Run? Maybe I should..
So excited didn't know what to do..
My heart was pounding, so many thoughts flying through,
As I walked much closer..mi rey..it wasn't..you :o(
I miss you incredibly,
Even the tone of your voice..
But for all that I must wait,
I don't have a choice.
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 9:59 AM UTC
this
is
how
it
happens
then
the
beginning
of
a
trickle
neither
of
you
know
it
but
this
is
the
meeting
a
word
or
a
sound
you
might
not
remember
in
the
decades
to
come
but
in
this
second
an
explosion
surprise
jumpstarts
your
heart
siren
of
beauty
oh
my
goodness
me
the
meant
to
be
for
now
at
least
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 6:22 PM UTC
Trudging through untouched snow
Face made red by the wind
Cold felt in my bones
Distant stars looked down on me
From the depths of space
Drinking cold water in summer
Relaxing in the reclining lawn chair
Watching clouds drift
Mockingbird's melody carried
On the wayward breeze
Scrambled eggs sneak under my door
Finds my nose
Jumpstarts my motor
My stomach howls
In an instant
I'm down stairs feasting
We're the lone car on the highway
Everyone else is gone
The only ones left in the universe
That greases my throat
Confessions and secrets flow
In the sanctuary of two am
When Inspiration strikes
Fragments and whispers
Condense, take form
Go from thoughts to paper
In an instant
They go as quickly as they come
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 1:15 PM UTC
Certainty of semper fi, 'n'
om-ly believe 'n'
groan of assent
struggle
to rise…
-- listen
the strangest of stories are told
as real as ever, the common idea, ever
after time has lost its
thread to our
temper ai re
ality in ifity was.
Those were the days, ifity was.
We were as you imagined,
in your imagination,
but really, we were all outlaws,
on the run…
what did your family think Wagon Train was about?
We was runnin' from the letters of the laws,
the man behind the star,
the man on the horse,
from old boogaswishery tales fairtold
to meet
the doubt, double mind, entende re, eh, follow or
fall
by the wayside and wait, one day
you wake and find the path is paved thirty chariots wide,
and you are
not surprised, that state,
surprise,
being an undifined or undivined, okeh, wordminded
state- stretched to this point --
flex-stress tested to thnthdgreeeee,
to
get most from extra eas y'
pay attention
points to
the definity of devininity, as shobbolethic,
- no pass, no se --
is it in the accent
that makes the difference,
or the proof?
Unique as differing may be random as mathic edgery
interpreters of times after all
was said and done,
one more.
Like not missing
a tittle or a jot, yet being
wise as jumpstarts means were to stick shifts,
shockingly, retro real… virtually
be the character, see the luckies rolled in your sleeve…
it was so easy to steal a car,
almost as easy as on TV. But not if you always
carried the coil wire in your pocket,
so those were the ones you watched for, next time,
coil wire in hand,
it was easier than on TV, you knew the care was stolen
before you stole it,
that's like answered prayer,
if y' askt me.
Patience 'n' faith, wise as was
imagined.
at the time.
The coil wire is the worm at the core.
Grease monkey kings know this story, it is in our
initiation to the mystery in the pistons.
Dec 27, 2020
Dec 27, 2020 at 8:29 PM UTC
Waking up with a brain that sticks to the sheets
It must have leaked last night 'cus
I'm resting on a puddle.
A full bladder can't get me out of here.
Breathing deep and feeling your thoughts diluted
And yawning, though you're still half dreaming and
You could swear that this shirt wasn't on you before.
Why are you at work?
Coffee jumpstarts your heart, but you heard it misfire.
Your clockwork legs and arms wind back up and
You try for another day. The air outside your bed is
Cold.
You find your way back with miracle eyes
Just before you lose your softness
As you crash into the cotton shores
You're blunt once again.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 8:28 AM UTC
I’ve always been asked why I adore the rain so much,
Here is my explanation.
I love the rain because it’s beautiful,
Just like my older sister’s smile.
I love the rain because sometimes it comes wrapped in a storm,
A storm with loud rumbling thunder,
And with lightning striking an electric current that jolts through my body,
Waking me up from the deep sleep caused by my unexciting routined life.
I do the same thing everyday, and each repeated action pushes me a little farther into this hole of depression.
That was until you came into my life,
You were my lightning.
But also my storm;
Ripping through my life and drowning me in sorrow.
I love the rain because it hides my tears,
They camouflage into it and for once it feels like I’ve stopped crying.
I love the rain because I can go outside and be alone.
The streets go from crowded and loud,
To lonely and quiet.
With the most prominent sound being the tiptoe of rain against the my old yellow rain boots.
I love the rain because it’s smell fills my lungs and I feel as if I can finally breathe. Because the thunder jumpstarts my otherwise sedated heart.
I love the rain because it brings me back to life,
And alters my numbed brain,
Making me feel again.
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
been giving rainbows jumpstarts in grey areas
ever since point blank range became the metric
of a total *****
And yeah, that **** hurt.
But you can go now and be the perpetual **** mist
on a black fob in a wishing Hell.
And I hope
you do.
but i must account for my many wounds
by giving fewer ***** about you
and Jupiter will always be the bully
your Mercury sleeps with…
unless the hole in your actual argument
is also the enemy of the Point.
but you sand
witch…
i clock blind rubies by their dozens,
spinning up red ogres and margarine-
in a sheer toast to our fallen comrades
that had other souls to bargain with
but only our fondest hopes
to herald… even as our slumlord daffodils
deign to embark upon new meadows
where cave ravens steep sunshine mead
in preposterous bogotas.
the faucet of every lake dreamt is a drain,
Jan 25, 2021
Jan 25, 2021 at 4:02 PM UTC