"keeled" poems
We were warm in that sunlight
Love ran thick in succulent leaves
Unfolding when the day would fade
Moving in the sunlight as the shadows chased
Dusty gray green happiness
Even keeled gentle curves of feeling
Rosy blush edging our forevers
Blunted points of conversations
We can last long on the waters we keep
Though we separate as time goes by
Conjoined in a cluster at the base of our relationship
Our love is like the succulents
Long lasting,
Long lived
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 10:09 PM UTC
Tonight I slipped into my longest dream......floating I was above the ground.......nobody not even a soul was even around....it was very strange...and eery........I was kinda dazed and feeling weary......being in this dream state I was in.....all of a sudden I was outside.....I saw water and sand trees and rocks....I think I saw the beach......I think it was winter island....but everything was so out of reach.....in the distance I saw a bench...it was dark and cold ....and on that bench a shadowy figure.....its too far away so I could not make out who it was.......as I approached it was you sitting there all alone ..tears falling from your eyes ......I stared at your beautiful face.......but at me you were looking right through and into the skies....
I started to whisper just your name......your mouth it moved but out no sounds came
I keeled down in front of the bench
The smell from the water I couldn't stand the stench
I told you how wrong for all that I have done
For I loved you so much and no longer would I run
Suddenly words came from your lips
It was something I had longed to here
She told me she loved me ...And always she did care
So I rose to my feet and sat on the bench wrapped my arms around her and looked in her eyes
Said from my mouth you would hear no more lies
I had to ask her how she drove here so late and alone
She said for my love........so now let's go home
See on this same bench....... we sat on the fourth of july..... we fell in love again that day
This bench we will remember for the rest of our days..........and we always keep proving our love in so many ways.
I had told you this was one of my longest dreams ....I have when I sleep....not only was it long but it was very deep
I was reading just the other day .....and it was about dreams..it said in the month of November pay attention to them...because a message they would send
May be it means our love together will never end
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 8:09 PM UTC
I used to love the sound of rain
The way it pittered on a windows pain;
The way it patterned on a cobbled lane
I used to love the rain.
You pealed across my sky like thunder
While I, like lightning, zigged and zagged in blunder;
On darkened night you aimed to plunder
But this golden heart had been torn asunder.
I can't account for the ways I've healed
Or which battles on wounded knee I've kneeled;
It's seen on every battle field
The way I've fought, yelled, whispered, & keeled.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
I was
Keeled over
Screaming
In the garage.
I laid in there
I wished that
There was some way
You could feel
My pain,
My sorrow.
I remember thinking that
Every second
That goes by
Is another reminder
Of what I lost.
I had to
Be quiet
Because they were
Sleeping
In the other room.
I could feel my
Heart breaking
As I studied
Your face
Like I would never
See it again.
Because I knew,
Yes I knew,
That I wouldn't.
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 9:20 AM UTC
Santa was a hit man and he had no alibi
His big red suit was drenched in blood, more vibrant than a dye
See, Mrs. Clause was KGB, and the North Pole was her base
And Santa was the corporate shell that really owned the place
The "elves" were political prisoners (and yes, some were rather short)
And the present-giving Christmas was the day Clause would report
But when the Union went away, there was no need for Clauses
And they ripped up the whole contract (not covered in Incidental Causes)
Mrs. Clause got into drinking, and it got worse everyday
'Till it happened: she was so drunk, she keeled over in the hay
They found her the next morning with a reindeer on her head
Santa knew before the med report that Mrs. Clause was dead
So he went back to the basics, and he hooked into Network 1
The most top secret channel where certain agents have their fun
He was lost without his partner (their marriage was arranged)
She had handled the business,his financial sense was left estranged
He knew without her, he'd go under; have to sell the Pole to the West
He needed to make the payments by doing just what he knew best
Santa filled the role of assassin, killing silently with grace
He laid a finger beside his nose before he shoved the gun up in your face
Making the hits look unconnected, well he varied up his style
In fact he was thinking of being a "serial killer" and followed that up for a little while
But his stealing milk and cookies didn't clue anybody in
Maybe it just wasn't plausible to blame the fat man and his grin
Whatever the case, he's a random killer who strikes with impunity
With a swish of his coat, he jumps roof to roof, flaunting his immunity
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
I am reminded of the cliché
"It hit me like a freight train."
But honestly, have you ever seen a freight train?
Those things make a **** ton of noise,
They're absolutely ginormous,
And they're not that fast.
You would have to be blind, deaf, and ******* stupid to get hit by one.
So no, the pain doesn't hit like a freight train.
It hits like a avalanche.
You're just sitting there, minding your own business
When suddenly, you begin to feel the thunderous roar.
Before you even realize what's about to happen
You're engulfed in the crippling agony,
keeled over, begging for death.
All this because you wanted some ice cream.
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 11:39 AM UTC
quipping maliciously
the learned scholar
outdid himself
and keeled over backward
into a huge barrel
of seething criticism
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
Old, abandoned wooden hulks,
They lie, keeled over, on coarse grass,
Left to sleep on the estuary flats.
These brute barges, timbers strong
As the men who worked them, masterless,
Rise on no tide, rest heavy and decay.
From one, still upright, a mooring rope
Hangs in an arc, like the downward curve
Of its great, oaken, rusty-hinged rudder;
Tied to the mud where older keel spines die.
Jun 19, 2011
Jun 19, 2011 at 8:07 AM UTC
The moon shone on the trees and found
The trees were paler than the moon.
The wind was a peroxide stain
That stabbed, wormlike, toward the veiled fastness of my brain
The wind that skinned me ‘til I stood, naked and raw;
The corner of my mouth cradled a pestilential sore.
My throat was lined and thin and wan
As though it held the cranium of an antique and parasitic swan.
I turned my mouth toward the origin of my demise
And said,
“ I vowed to die amongst the trees
While human hands removed my clothes, and closed my crusted eyes
And human voices stilled my vague unease
But this will do for now.”
A crow wheeled above as I keeled over in the dust and saw
The sacred steepled chapel of somebody’s fleshless body
Writhe beside me, and in hollow whispers fall;
I closed my eyes and ushered in the shadows as the night began to crawl.
Aug 16, 2012
Aug 16, 2012 at 5:09 PM UTC
I wake up on a day
With a hang over on my head
And I can't forget
What happened last night
I got drunk out of frustration
Trying to cope up but I just can't
Drinking Jack Daniel's all night
I even keeled on the floor
Crying all my walls down
Getting the hell of myself
This break up was the worst of all
I can't get over this
The break up is killing me
It's getting all of me
It destroys everything
It gets of parts of me
I'm dying because of grief
It's tearing me down apart
This thing has drained all of me
I don't know if when,
I'll get back to life
Bitterness is eating me
It's taking over me
The break up was the worst of all grief
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 8:44 AM UTC
after a week of dried paint chips
and plastic shoe laces
the starved little mouse
ate the dainty aqua blue food pellets
near the big red door
through spider webs
behind the refrigerator
finally full
his guts in a knot
he keeled over hemorrhaging
but at least he wasn't driven mad
with hunger anymore
although he was tormented
with writhing and choking up ****** tidbits
towards his final destination
a knotting rigor mortis
he could be seen
laying flat on his back
withered
frozen in a suspended flutter frenzy
his little limbs clawing frenetically
to the heavens
having dared the sin of gluttony
he paid his penitence
and last absolution
for living large
as a house mouse
in the cruel wilds
of a treacherous world
on the crucifix of the human kingdom
land of the roaming
Godzilla's
where solace and kindness has no quarter
for a starved hard lived little mouse
who died
as providence would have it
by Gods infinite wisdom and glory
like a rat
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 8:05 AM UTC
And as the stars themselves
keeled over
and spewed forth
innocuous belligerence,
the high
and wicked
and genius
and lonely
chewed on the butts of cigarettes teething their aching egotistical gums and the wind swept
through the gaps of their ribs
and it reminded our unholy entity
of wind chimes.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
i don't want to write
because i know if i do
i'll only be staring back
at reflections of you
but my words have been silenced
for long enough, they cry
to be let out
to be shouted to the sky
it's hard to remain
so calm and even-keeled
when i'm stitching shut a wound
that isn't ready to be healed
but i'm back on my feet
i've gotten off my knees
learning that i'm the only one
i need to please
you can call me cold
i really don't care
but for once i feel okay-
i'm becoming happy, i swear
it's been about three weeks
and he's still constantly on my mind
and while each thought reminds me
of a better time
i'm unlearning the taste
of his lips and his words
forgetting what it felt like
to be someone's "girl"
because being with him made me forget
that i am my own
i don't belong to him or
anyone else
and i am my home
if you want to make "home" a person
don't make it anyone but you
you're the only one guaranteed
not to just pass through
so i guess this is the start
of my journey to self-love
of acceptance and growth
and belief in the above
and while i'm still not great
i know i'll be there on my own
so thank you, ex-lover,
for teaching me how to be alone.
-a.c.b
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 12:44 PM UTC
there are several ways to say, 'what in the hell are you doing?'
the first starts with: 'what in the hell am i doing?'
someone coughs in the backdrop. there is a hollowness to the room.
the cough bounces wall to wall, playing auditory pong.
you turn around, rather startled, and see an old man keeled tightly over his knees,
fast asleep and yet choking on his compressed diaphragm.
he snores, habit fizzling over loose lips and dripping thru his warm saliva 'til it becomes a taoist creek on the bed of the auditorium floor. he coughs, chokes, and it repeats throughout the room like a phantom.
you trudge slowly toward him. he lets out one long, conservative choke and jerks backward, a spinal catapult and to the ground. THUMP
there are several ways to say, 'what in the hell are you doing?'
the first starts with: 'what in the hell am i doing?'
someone coughs in the backdrop. there is a hollowness to the room.
the cough bounces wall to wall, playing auditory pong.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 6:23 PM UTC
home alone
keeled at the throne
rejecting the friends found in bottles and so
I look at the phone
my logic low flows
and I get the idea to call up an old **
but ***** brain says hay ** do you wanna bone
and she gets all ****** off like ah hell no
so now I gadda wonder if the drug life blows
blow that's an idea get my dealer on the phone
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 1:00 PM UTC
Journey forth if you dare
There is always more than one way to go
One is simple, just go with the flow
It is straight and even keeled
No bumps, twists and turns,
All green, flat, as far as the eye can see
Second is hard, you must work at it for the prize
Twists and turns,
Ruts, bumps, no visibility in places
Sometimes you can't see past your face
Third is most difficult you see
We make it that way
Harder than it has to be
Mountains are high, rivers rage, oceans pounding
Each road we take puts us on another one then another
Even the simplest can turn out to be the worst nightmare of all
The most difficult can end on easy street
We are told we pick our own road and we do
Yet there is the twist
It does not matter which of those first three you pick
Why? why does it not matter?
Because life is never simple
It is never all green pastures and rosey days
Life is sometimes harder, many times we can't decide what to do
Decisions we make put us in deep ruts that seem impossible maneuver
Other times it is so difficult we get stuck
Can go no further
I have been told it is all in the choices you make
This is true yet it is not
Our choices affect but we are tested repeatedly in life
What do you mean? you might ask
Life is what you put into it
If you pick the easy road something always happens
A flat tire, the flu, overdrawn checking account
Pick the harder path
You might go for days without a mishap
Smooth road ahead, no problems
Suddenly the road floods
Pick the most difficult path
One day you are in hell
The next you are sailing on easy street
The choice of roads matters not
As long as you put your trust in God
Or the God of your religion
He is the one that puts the ruts, storms, and smooth sailings into your life
Trust in him to get you through the day
Sometimes when things are truly bad
You think I won't make it another day I just can't
Ask Him, Tell Him how you are feeling
He is listening even when we think He is not
If your path follows Him and you trust in Him
You will find every obstacle is conquerable
Every wave is rideable
Every mountain is crossable
Instead of thinking God hates me today
Remember He is challenging you for a reason
Strenghtening you for times to come
He knows the future we do not
Right now at this moment I write this
Because I am at my breaking point
Instead of going off the deep end
Going crazy
I bow my head
God, You are the power, the love and light in my life
Please I can't take anymore
Please I beg Your mercy
HELP ME PLEASEE HELP ME
I know in my heart and soul
He heard me and will remove an obstacle
He will send me help
A sign of some sort will arrive
Instead of saying I should have picked the other road
Simply say
HELP ME
Nov 28, 2010
Nov 28, 2010 at 6:31 PM UTC
When he died
His body was placed in a golden tomb
There wasn't much room
For any mistakes
When she died
Her body was placed in a pewter box
Shut with locks
To keep the demons in
When he passed away
His family sobbed and cried
But their tears were already dried
On his legacy
When she passed away
Her family left and shed not a tear
To them, she was a mere
***** girl, dead.
When he keeled over
His family remembered
By having him commemorated
Then promptly forgot
When she keeled over
Her mother slept around
She didn't mourn the sound
Of her crying babe
She died in childbirth
He died of loss
Buried together, under the altar
No one comes and visits them
Except
their
daughter
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 4:44 PM UTC
Dear, I haven't been in touch
For a long time.
Sorry.
The last time I saw you
Was in St. Christopher's Place.
It was a lovely evening...
When I knocked that chair over.
I am sorry.
Since then,
I've had not a few accidents
Of that kind.
Just three days ago,
I slipped out in a garden
At a friend's house...
And keeled over, not once,
Not twice, but three times,
Like a log...clonking my nut
So violently that people heard me
In the sitting room.
What's more,
I can't remember a single sentence
Spoken all evening. The problem is...
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC
By the shore...
.....i dropped wearily, on the sand...
"O, silent dragon, as you lurk, my cold sweat
....merges with a rush of angry waves
lapping hard on me...i'm a boat, that keeled,
i'm already scared as dead,
of something that can't ever yield."
i bit my lower lip, prickly with salty water
stinging my eyes...i'm all wet, with salty water
restlessly...alternately, legs are spreading,
toes touching tight......then crisscrossing
shifting positions...left, right, forward,
then backward
thoughtfully lowering hand, feeling ****
..."my poor weary ones, i'm sorry,
......for too long...i tarry
so much weight you carry."
sand was warmer where i sat,
above, a spinning atmosphere
i stood up...reeling....fell on my back
made a loud splash on that
afternoon's sea water...i was squinting,
my face, i was repeatedly wetting,
to douse panic that was clawing
on the heart....though the cold was soothing,
i knew...a red-eyed green monster was lying
beneath........keeping vigil.........waiting
patiently for me.......to relax my defenses,
then fall........and let go of my reflexes,
its fiery eyes, anticipating its success.
"o, am i but a coward? I sway, my feet sashay
i am very sane....and definitely, not lame
i know......myself, i can never betray.
you and i, we've been watching each other,
for years........would this go on forever?"
::::::
"great fear, my old friend, why do you accompany me?
you pulsate in every corner within me
i'm too visible
too vulnerable.
i am farthest from the lips of the shore,
yet, i feel you, a monster, watching me from afar..."
intense fear...births a rebel
weariness takes over.....it opposes, it swells
takes a turn, throwing caution to the wind.
lumps of wet sand drop from gripped hands,
later, they'll be dry and loose again,
free.....and reunited with the rest.
"each time i struggle, i miraculously survive,
...like you, my green dragon, you persist...stay alive,
...ebbing, flowing with the waves.....in my mind,
............where, you comfortably hide......"
Sally
Copyright June 15, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 3:12 AM UTC
Stayed in the tub until the water got cold
trying to determine the causal link
Days when I’m even keeled, nothing flows
But when things get shaky
And The unknown of tomorrow
crushes my rib cage
That’s when I’m bursting with creativity.
Sep 13, 2021
Sep 13, 2021 at 9:16 AM UTC
Well. I was trying to reach you.
And what shall I do now? I
cannot escape this and there is
nowhere to run to. I have fallen
and you are all wrapped up.
But you still somehow manage to
do and say the right things to get me
swayed. My head is ******* swayed
by you. I just start thinking. I just
get my mind blown.
By you.
It's like you must know the
effect you are having. Or could
potentially have. Those caramel cherries did not sway
me alone. They came from your thoughtful
head. Your even keeled thoughtful head.
I can never read you. Which is
funny, because acting is **** But it comes
with a drawback, I guess.
You always act around me.
I am surprised at these
effects. It's not that I always
get high with you. It's how I
feel when you are gone, and I never
got to get the whole truth out.
Jun 7, 2011
Jun 7, 2011 at 8:37 PM UTC
fading out with each rhetorical question
on the cutting board
keeled over before a threat was articulated
senses failed and I got high off of your body pressed
against mine
with flames on our lips
we could have given up so easily
and why didn't we
we were both so young
too naive to chase a single whim
rambling on about our own anxieties
comparing scars
the night the clouds came in
and I couldn't think anymore
and the downpour
I couldn't hear you
it sounded and felt like gunfire
pointed downward
the downpour
the violence of letting go
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 10:56 AM UTC
High on Tumuli,
Keeled in sways washed out from brazen oceans...
...the birds may have me now...
Prey!..strip this ageing skin, then take my eyes.
Let the Oort Cloud iris break upon
these lakes of trancing humour,
as Veronicas of astral grace
silk down the valley strides.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 11:49 AM UTC