"keeling" poems
Metal heavy
ready
steady
Hot in hand
Shelled, cocked into green-light action
Pierced through fresh flesh
Body leaning
keeling
pleading
Hot under hand
Shelled, coiling under skin unwilling,
Malleable
--
c
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 1:06 PM UTC
My dear, do you want to know
why this stream shall never cease to flow
why this countenance shall know no smile
why in vain you realease torent of bile
for eternity shall my face tarry behind the sun
and ever shall be till this ugly scenario run
cut off from every string joint to my mind
to recall no more that gruesome day
Limbeh turned a cadavar awaiting decay
how my heart tremble while my tongue relates
the incident that turned an early widow late
the night before, cried a owl across at nightfall
grandpa beheld and discerned the mysterious call
tapped he my shoulder and opened his phangs
look beyond the pregnant night in labour pangs
waiting to birth a child as mysterious as the cry
Ekumbo! May i live not to witness that melancholic night(he sighed)
a thing unheard of in Aweh beyond countless centuries
worth plunging a kingdom into an endless misery
frightened, departed me with my ribs to my cradle to fall
holdin his words to await he upon whom the lot shall fall
so as the pregnant night did flipped
departed then this poor widow to her field
to gather bread for her fatherless kids
then in agony their lips they bit
as their eyes rained in torrent
and their sobs grew even fervent
when the fatal tiding was unleashed
a thing which feared hearts and andrenaline released
how she bent beneath a dry iroko gathering yam
in her distant and lonely farm
a branch uphigh cracked
turned she to see the source of the crack
behold a log fell on her skull
pouring out what was left of her brain- all
keeling rightward, she fell as her spirit transcended a plane beyond
a place so gray, so blund
now poor orphans, as poppies to be shared
departed they to various kins to be rared
and daily this dirge about her goes
as villagers their drum beat and lyre blow
forget not the story of the unfortunate widow
who for the door, took the window
and drank not from the spring of old age
nor for her maternal labour achieved a wage
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 7:05 AM UTC
I have two arms, right?
See em? Don't?
Too bad. But you assume I do anyways, because most people do.
And then there was Eddie, who had one arm.
He ran from his troubles so that he could evade the police. On their search for Eddie, scratch that hold on Eddie was a she, she liked being called that.
It made her happy. Anyways, she ran and ran, and then she found a bar+inn she could hide out in.
She ordered a cup of whisky, and being the good girl she was, she didn't drink it. She left it out for cops to find and they drunk it instead, one keeling over. Success!
She ran away from more of the police for two years before moving to Texas under a new name, Ashley. So Ashley
laid low and had wine daily. She got someone pregnant and got in even more trouble.
Now you might be wondering "how did she get someone pregnant?" and I tell you this: She had a **** Most girls don't, but as far as she was concerned, that didn't matter. She was a good girlfriend. Her eyes were more easily compared to ????! Forget that metaphor. She could run, really, really fast. People in her
vicinity ran because they thought she was odd. and she was. but not in a bad way.
to her, everyone else was odd. oddity is a confusing thing because it dances by itself at a party, leaving normalcy as the wallflowers. NOT TO SAY she was a wallflower.
ashley was outgoing. she danced, she broke her hip, she grew her hair out cut it off then grew it out again because the army wouldn't accept a cock-having girl.
Shortly she realized the army was unnecessary so she simply danced to the sound of oddities for the rest of her life.
No one bought her a drink, but she had dough so it didn't matter.
Texas was hot and she considered herself hotter. Whether or not that's an oddity is your decision.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
We double over...
Curse of the weighty tombstone
tolling upon our backs.
We mull over...
If the string was pulled too taut;
If it deserved more slack.
We pretend to get over...
While we go to sleep
on a bed of scattered tacks.
Tomorrow will see us
keeling over...
Unfound...
Undiscovered...
Hidden along uncharted tracks.
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 7:44 AM UTC
I love you.
I love the way the morning air feels inside my lungs and how cool the breeze is.
Morning air smells like a new start.
I love you.
I love the way water tastes after a long day on the beach. It's like drinking life after the sun demanded to hold whatever you could offer him without keeling over.
I love you.
I love the way the sky makes me feel. It reminds me that I am beautiful and something amazing. How blessed am I to witness something so vast and grand as the sky?!
I want to be everything the sky is.
But I cannot.
I can love you.
So I will and I will keep loving you.
I won't close any window in your life to try and perserve a sense of morning air.
Because the sun will only rise higher in your life, and I will have to choose to either be your water or to demand more from you than you are able to give.
And even if you stop loving me, I will show you a love as vast and as grand
as the sky.
I love you.
"I love you."
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 8:20 AM UTC
Her bookshelf to the brim and bursting
With pages worn, and well
Remembered for the virtues
Lost
And husbands in the war
Fallen woman--fall, and women
Harvests sown and reaped
Moon of full, of wax, of
Wane
Her heart of Shadow's seed
Hand of diamond and of band
Ashes, ashes, dust
A love once lived and now, one
Lost
The pages' faces face us
And sages burn, away
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 8:16 AM UTC
What's happening?
My feeling is keeling
over like a rooster
Losing my sanity
All feeling's vanity.
Where's the knife?
I want to survive.
I don't want to be trapped
in this stage of insecurity
I need to let loose,
like a goose.
Blood's all over the room.
This never-ending feeling
of satisfaction
what is it?
Is this
Life?
Death?
Happiness?
Sadness?
mAdne$s?
I've forgotten how to tell.
Do I need help?
Am i in vain?
In p@in?
I'm laughing.
I can't **** stop.
Is this humor?
Horror?
My third eye
has closed
my actions
are no longer futile
the heads
hanging from the ceiling fan
are you pr0ud of me?
Mom?
Why are you quivering?
Why are you running?
"WHAT DO YOU THINK
YOU'RE DOING?
WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?"
That's what your lips are saying.
Why're you on the floor?
You're still breathing.
Are you sleeping?
C'mon, wake up.
cAN I pLay w!tH yOU, Too?
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
Mesmerizing eyes anchor me to your soul
I loose myself in those translucent depths
I wonder if your lips were made for me
I wonder if your heart beats for me
When gently on your chest I lay my hand
I hear your heartbeat restrained
Thumping loudly, visibly tensed
Sensing if I'll ever guess
Strangers to unbeknown eyes
Your gaze I've held
How I would want to pretend
But you've deeply affected my rest
Words form freely, in the minds unrest
Silence seals my lips before my story unfolds
Scarcely breathing, surviving, the truth untold
Stranger I am to my own world
I don't want to be a stranger to this feeling
I don't want to be just a keeling
Never want to let you go, hold you to myself.
Bury myself in the depth of your vortex
You'll never understand
The reason of my restraint
Undelivered words and messages unsent
Hiding visibly in broad daylight
When your sweet voice I want to hear daily
The antithesis of my story is laughable
The dissonance of my utterances and intent
Perplexed and fraught between
To be or not to be
My struggle, my dichotomy
Paradoxical my situation
Fake my appearances seem
Inside I am dying my love
Dying for a simple truth from you!
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 3:12 AM UTC
"He came to us with the brightest brown eyes.
Cuddled in Mom's arms never thinking ever of
early goodbye's.
Living much of a sheltered life learning dad's
trade.
A table he once made that brought him
much praise.
His town was as small as the bucket of water
he would get from the well.
Knowing at a young age he had bigger plans, with
so much more to tell.
A Jewish boy with an ambition of traveling
the land.
His time had come to leave home to
become a man.
Footstep after footstep took him on a
journey that pleased him well.
People listened to his words of hope
taking their lives out of dispel.
The word went out across many villages
that a man was lifting up hearts, and souls.
A man they called Jesus. Making their
lives whole.
Miracles were performed, along with
many storms.
So many followers, yet so much doubt.
I knew this was to happen. He knew
not to put up a fight.
Torture came upon him, keeling over, then
stood up for more.
Moments later, sentenced to death, and
placing a crown of thorns on his head.
You all know the ending.
My Son died for all your sins.
As your Heavenly Father i ask only one
favor.
Please become Born Again."
Signed: The Holy Spirit!!!!
Why? Because God gets all The Glory!!!!!
Michael.....
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 12:09 AM UTC
The lame dog
Paws ****** from the gore of the trail
Ceases
Keeling over
Ragged breaths chopping up the frozen air
And whines mournfully
At the wolves who have already disappeared
Without a glance back.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 6:21 PM UTC
I lunge along my path my way
Keeling forward day by day
The indolence of my surrounds
Renders my feet to the ground
Laughter like bellow grunt
Skipping is my featured stunt
Following the very clouds
Oftentimes I think aloud
I am the jester that you know
The crank that always steals the show
Pranking, yanking underwear
Descending an imagined stair
You laugh I cry inside I die
Outside I breath and watch it fly
For what is death but just one side
Of two that holds our life inside
Going to ground around around
A pint of flesh for every pound
Will you sing a song with me?
Oh dee doodle deedle dee.
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 5:43 PM UTC
Sun's going down and I'm trying my hardest not to think
of the walk back and enjoy the nature.
It's a littered mess, though.
With discarded refrigerators, tree glass, the paper cups,
products consumed and departed.
And it's hard to feel one with the wood,
but it's easy as well,
we're just like the trash.
our millennial fashion clashes with the fallen leaves,
and our indie rock from our portable,
doesn't blend in with the pebbles.
I sit on a tree, turned over
while the sun gets lower.
I've got this eminent feeling,
that this trip back we'll be keeling.
The trees are still bare but budding,
still it's something.
I imagine this is where I should breathe,
the extra oxygen.
But all I smell is city air.
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
Brevity of rot in wheeling
Memory and thought and feeling
Deviation from direction
Trajectory is shot and keeling
alleviation from all reflection
obfuscation of my projection
something leaks from my skull
flirtation with my own defection
thrumming bleats, a searching squall
for refunding or reaping or any recall
of memory or thought or feeling
Hunting weakly then withdrawal
Entropy is not appealing
Elegies a clot to dealing
Dedication to direction
Empathy without the healing
Jan 16, 2022
Jan 16, 2022 at 3:44 PM UTC
sometimes it seems we're all filled with sand,
keeling over and giving up,
the sweetness that we once tasted,
now seems to turns our stomachs sick.
But I do not believe so!
I will forever insist on the existence of fairies,
wishing on stars, candles, eyelashes.
I will finger paint to cleanse my soul,
colour with crayons to find peace.
watch cartoons to induce smiles,
and wear flowers in my hair.
because maybe the most important things you learn in your life, are taught to you in your first 5 years.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
She bore my soul
as the sun bears an orbit,
a volcano-skinned corona filling
My soul, caught by Sol
My satellite spirit
Tumbles just out of reach
You warm me and
suspend me in thine beauty
You arrest me and attract me
But I know to keep my distance
For one mis-teetered keeling
skins my delicate organs
and erupts me inside your
volcano lined furnace
As a star does
to it’s most foolish of followers
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
smile for your life
penny, pennies, 5 cents empty
bubblegum
lemon colored sheets
polaroid
hole, rolls, tigers eye
rock em sock em
for a while images giving
light life lost loss
pearly buttons, stolen moments
pinky plastic gems
walls of pastel
key west
mosquito keys
curly crown floral hair
masquerade spooky shade
kneeling keeling boyfriend jeans
clenching gut wrenching shotgun grin
andy warhol longhaired jeep
beanie blunts and lipstained treats
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 2:30 PM UTC
Friendship never dies
I can always promise that
I ******* love you
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 11:00 PM UTC
you can preach to the choir but I never feel a a note
coming from your own throat.
trying teaching with your stomach instead of your hands
be a little less removed, a little less "improved" -
it's not a bridge until you build it
either start laying bricks or light the match.
if i catch you saying sticks and stones will break my bones
but words will never hurt me one more time, i might just
punch you in the gut.
that's where my words come from
that's where i feel every phrase that's real
come reeling through and keeling over
i'll share these words with you.
just cause they ain't polished don't make them less true.
stop preaching
start listening
then maybe I can, too.
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 11:29 AM UTC
sick and crumbling from sweated sheets onto the ground
i don't want to be found like this, don't want to be seen
cause my body's giving up, my weakness, it's so lame
keeling over in pain and illness, i say
"go away"
but i don't want you to go away
i'm afraid to die alone... hey
NO
Dec 27, 2020
Dec 27, 2020 at 12:51 PM UTC
8 years ago my dad died
And today I still sit here and ask myself why
What did I do to deserve this punishment
Who took hold of my life, and filled it with excrement?
6 months later almost passed away
Diagnosed with diabetes, learned how to deal with it each day
Now its pushing me down, leaving me feeling gray
And I'm hurting inside, but I'll just hide it anyways
Yeah I never learned the way others really did
Guess growing up without a father ain't no way for a kid
Now I'm stuck inside a hole feeling like I've done wrong
And my only simple solace is the words in this song
Because the sweat on my back doesn't mean that its over
And this pain that I carry is the burden on my shoulders
I ain't talking about quitting or just keeling over
Because I'm fighting with my all, I'm an emotional soldier.
8 years later and not much has changed
11 visits to the hospital and I'm the one to blame
Blood draws every other hour, and an insulin drip
thinking to myself, why am I still in this ****
3 years in and my depression is crippling
Hours spent self loathing, when I should have been healing
Now I'm sitting in bed, listenin' to myself talk
And my head is hung low, buried inside my thoughts
Because the sweat on my back doesn't mean that its over
And this pain that I carry is the burden on my shoulders
I ain't talking about quitting or just keeling over
Because I'm fighting with my all, I'm an emotional soldier
Almost 20 years old, still naïve in my youth,
Can't deal with my pain, refuse to swallow the truth
Yeah I'm pushing and fighting with all of my might
But its hard to deal with dark, when you're searchin' for the light.
Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 12:01 AM UTC
I remember when I was young
I saw the lights on my knees of the golden sun
Wither. So from night I aged around
Years of a soul to peel apart as I’m found
Singing. Gaze to a wall in its porous decay
What four seal away the few mornings awake
Sitting and wasted on me tending my time
Dies the mind, ignored, drifting unwashed into prime
Apart order, eyeless, and gluttonous grown
And still years pushing faults upon thin root and bone
Based in about the endless same
Best lazed between each days soreing name
Forgotten like what else and frightened of
Change laid before my slowly keeling tree of love
Or supposed love
As I spoke before of: terror comes
I remain as I was
And it shades me as I still am and still am I young
May 24, 2025
May 24, 2025 at 3:10 PM UTC