"kilometer" poems
I wonder where raindrops come from before they reach my window,
A river? Lake? Ocean?
I wonder how far they have to travel before they reach my window,
A kilometer? Mile? Country?
I wonder if these raindrops work together to sing as they reach my window,
Plop-plop, ploop, plop-ploop!
I wonder how diverse the raindrops are as they reach my window,
Oh hello, I'm from Lake Ontario.
I wonder if it's a wild party or wet war in the clouds whose raindrops reach my window,
Let's dance! Fight me!
I wonder how social raindrops are that reach my window,
Stick to me, we'll become a downpour!
I wonder if the cloud is the mother that lets go of its children to reach my window,
Off to the lake, ma, see you soon!
I wonder if raindrops thought they could fly but instead reached my window,
Weeeeee-aahhhhhhhh!
I wonder if they all fall but expect to soar as they reached my window....
Plop-plop, ploop-plop, plop, ploop, plop, plop....
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 8:48 PM UTC
You swell some strain on me,
You, middle kingdom!
Eradicating small detachments,
Of both sailors and marines.
They were ranked on islets and reefs,
With an integer of nine –
There in the island next to me,
I’m sure, you know who Spratly is.
Always wanting such detachment
To be eradicated by your own;
Now stationed
On a World War II era landing ship.
Your toy-ships came near me,
With 9-kilometer of the LST.
“It’s there illegally,”
How adamant that be!
I’ve tipped you off already,
Surely will I stand firm!
Then, you’ve countered me on! –
Opting for the ******** of more skyscrapers;
Those that are on stilts;
Now nearby two Reefs & a Bank? –
Nearby my darling Palawan Island!
“There is no room at all,”
For the negotiation on some point,
You’ve declared.
Oh, here’s my friend, U.S.
Left us with course of action to try;
Everyone calm down,
Be less provocative.
For often, he flies over;
Probing some stuffs.
You are the biggest offender, my friend;
In this dispute, you show no sign of slowing;
Or backing, down.
But hey, I won’t give up!
(9/9/13)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
Wicked nether-land. Nether world, white, askance. Capitulating mangroves, verdant trees spliced with hyperbole, onomatopoeia, and manilla envelopes; her world is stuffed with secrets, she listens to gorillas cracking mussels a kilometer away, near a rill. Never she thought. Nothing that could provide....providence. Mangled heliographs sprayed all over the everywhereworld.
"Don't be S.A.F.E.," she whispered. A bouquet of gorse, cistus, and pimpernels squished in her small fingers. She climbed her way through the pedimented stairway, then collapsing on the porch. Legs spent, and spread out upon the desiccate grayed four by four planks of the portico.
And as time elapses, the shuttering shake of the hemlock, which writhes through her skinny nimble dactyls, upwards straining the heart as its toxic bends appendages- crisp cerise lumens bend on the Titanium White walls, where only shadows bend time. The hour, still nine. Every adornment, furnished with red and its hues. Not purple, periwinkle, or any masked enhancement.
These are the symbols that reticulate splines, that curve temperatures, perverse hemispheres and debunk worlds. Upped antes, verbs that terns flirt worth, birth words. Ooh. Aah. Camera. The forest wraps her in its verdant pasture, where at last the moribund tamarisks disperse.
While at the plateau she is quiet and longing. Arms astride, dangling. Vaunt with highs and bliss- a kiss of withstanding pleasure serves her the cure for a lifetime of whining. This, yesterday where her body rattled through crooked vines. Square ships toasting her vocal melancholy in the sweet-waters of Time. So that all of her ripened limbs could grow, no more sheepishly than the magic she knew as a child. Stress free. First among the Earth-words, verbed-up and made jealous by pronouns that encompassed her joy-brimming hide. Closing down her voice and hugging her from behind.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:44 AM UTC
Inderalaya, 30 September 2014
Hati ini tlah tua
Tlah bertahan lama meski diterpa topan
Tetap kokoh walau diterjang karang
Masih bernyawa setelah diterkam cakar
Hati ini rapuh di dalam
Tak berwujud, tak berasa, tak berupa
Tak bernyanyi, tak bersuara, diam
Kosong, hampa, berbaur senyap
Hati ini lelah
Berjalan berjuta-juta kilometer langkah
Menyimpan berbagai rasa dunia
AKhirnya terluka dalam asa
Hati ini menangis
Tak mampu menahan lagi
Tak sanggup bertahan untuk sedetik
Mengisakkan sunyi
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
I swear to god I've seen that pole
about a kilometer a go
I swear to god I've seen that tree
barren, wasted of it's leaves
I swear to god I've seen that barn
bent and crooked on that farm
I swear to god ive seen that pond
the ugly geese have spooked the swans
I swear to god I've crossed these tracks
our shocks are shot and so's my back
I swear at god everytime
I have to make this god dam drive
I swear to god it always snows
humongous flakes, down in droves
I swear to god it always rains
when the gas tank's almost drained
I swear to god the traffics jammed
every inch of the trans
I swear to god the coffee's weak
like the towns, bland and bleak
I swear to god it's all the same
this road must lead to hells gates
I swear at god everytime
I have to make this god dam drive
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
Something I always do in Summer
Is just sit beneath my tree
Yes, my tree
Why?
Because it's about a 3 kilometer walk along a deer path
Anyway sit under that spruce with its shade giving branches
And you enter another world
The heady aroma of pine resin fills the air
Squirrels chatter in contentment over my head
I watch insects unknown to me
Walk the aerial ways
Ants in synchronized dance
The bark cracks do invade
Even in a gentle rain Mollie and I can share this space
Just sit and crack open another beer
And live for another day
No noise but natures noise
No rancid petrol or diesel fumes
Just the smell of mole turned soil
The sound of natures tunes
You know I love to sit in these lonely places
Mollie at my feet
Sit here with a pen and pad
In this special place where I and nature meet
I come here to sit and write sometimes just to think
But all to often when I leave
The pad is shy of ink
You see most of the time I'm quite content
To sit in filtered sun
Most of all I'm so elated
When I join with nature
When nature and I merge as one
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
A five kilometer race
Get a good pace for that
Fun run
Don't get the runs
The runs are not fun
Hon
High school puns
Running in front
Of a train
Isn't worth chewing gum
Dumb
Come on, come
That's ***** stuff
But it sure is fun
Jump the gun
I'm not ready
You're the one.
So run
Away with me
We can climb some tree
Hide up there
Breathe fresh air
Wind in your hair
Take this dare
I dare you
I dare you
Let's climb higher
Go on, faster
Don't bring your books...
No ***** looks!
You've got me hooked
We aren't stopping
No time to read
Knit a thneed
Play with a reed
Pipe
Too much hype
I don't Skype
It's laggy
Baggy
Sweats are sweet
Ripped by cleats
Tasty meat
Cook it
Boil it
Don't let it spoil it
Hit it with a rod
Cod
Isn't a game, it's a fish
I wish
You and I
Forever, we could fly
Away from these things
Dust in our eyes
Remove your disguise
Your mask
Take it off
Anything else is okay too
You
And I
Let's run.
It'll be fun!
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 10:43 AM UTC
Is was a long ride home.
We were sober.
Legal, maybe the best way to describe it.
But a 185 kilometer drive,
The morning after,
On snowy roads
Will test you at the core.
It wasn't the *** with other people.
She'd given a hand job to an eighteen year old,
I'd ended up drunk and flaccid,
With my head between the legs of a lady from New York City,
And *******
Jesus christ, *******
Were never a point of contention between us.
God has one gift and we'd never been stingy, jealous,
Small minded control freaks or emotional kamikaze suiciders,
Dive bombing the happiness out of each other,
No way.
Nor were we myopic work slaves jacking off to the next tech treat,
Nor were we stingy uptight ***** faces,
Trading in the allusion of human perfection.
No way.
We knew love and we knew life and we knew the power of new.
But to say Jimi Hendrix wasn't the greatest axe player to ever trip.
**** man, that just couldn't stand.
So we listened, the windows shaking,
The seething poison of artistic disagreement,
Like nerve gas, art is serious **** you feel me?
All Along the Watchtower, Hey Joe, Crosstown, Voodoo Child, Angel...
Some **** just won't stand
You dig?
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 5:36 PM UTC
Sleep diffuses me.
I am unwrapped, unbodied, uncoiled.
Behind shut lids there are endless sights to see.
Time extends her fingers.
Infinity becomes one.
The taste of water lingers.
Kilometer poles unravel.
My pulse stretches with harmony into silence.
I forget the distance of my travel.
I let the shadows drown me without defiance.
Night's blanket shelters me tenderly.
I sink deeper.
There is scarcely a bliss comparable
to the bliss of (a sleep)er.
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 5:04 AM UTC
To run into your composure,
To take the worries away,
To hear your heart like a whisper,
That everything will be okay.
Not like this,
Not even a kilometer apart,
Not in this way,
No one can hardly look to stare.
Even if the streams decide to flow,
Even as the stars tremble,
Even when the rain shook cold,
Either of us is a safe place.
To house our feeding fire,
Not every flint sparks a flame,
Even we deserve the warmth,
You are never alone in the dark.
Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 9:35 AM UTC
Højt højt oppe.
Stadig under skyerne.
Hvis du kigger ned, Flyder der lysende plader rundt i vandet.
Intet kan sammenlignes, intet er smukkere
end disse lysende byer, lysende biler, lysende drømme.
Byen reflekteres i mine øjne, har jeg set noget lignende?
Mine tanker går i stå, forundret. Det er smukt. Jeg er tom, alt rundt om er sort, pånær lyskæder som binder byen sammen, lysdioder danser ballet på indersiden af mine øjne. Det burde hedde hornminder i stedet for hornhinder. Jeg glemmer nok aldrig byens liv, dengang blev jeg liv.
Mange kilometer oppe i luften, oppe i himlen, svævende omkring essensen af jorden. Her er jeg nu, hvor er du?
Kigger du op i uendeligheden, intetheden, tænker du på mig flyvende, dig flyvende?
Jeg er sikker på mine øjne for dig virkede anderledes, jeg havde ikke den lysende by i øjnene, mine ben var låst fast til land, selvom mine tanker fløj. Der stod du helt klart, uden en fejl på dit ydre, og fremsatte at intet længere var i dit indre. Du skulle have set din by oppe fra, du ville forstå hvor mine tanker stammede fra.
Alt er så smukt oppe fra, men nogle gange skal man opleve det grimme ude fra, for at tegne billedet der kommer inde fra.
Nu er jeg på land, og vi er igen kilometer fra hinanden, det er sådan det må være, så jeg vil nu huske dine blå øjne sorte, og dit “smil". Da vi nu igen i fortiden var til, for at imødekomme fremtiden
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
spread out your mouth
spit the streets
the tongue a tracking device
carry me now bed-like
four legged somewhere in a
corner and your entire
body weight planted over me
and do not heat spinach in the microwave
the iron will grow eyes
my back has grown at least three
eyes and my thighs are a compliment
i slit myself no mercy
novelty for free
paper of five and half a kilometer
i sleep near sudoku
while you learn foreign affairs by heart
and i am not choosing a theme and i
am still a thief stole your inner knee
am somewhere ********** myself
paint my face
paint my face
paint my face an axe at my ears
my blood a poem
hello who is this i cannot hear you
i cannot comprehend you too well
i fold dead corners like Frankenstein
it is October and five and twenty degrees and
the summer love still not over
and i wind down the wind it will be alright
turn away lurid child the things around here
they just are and
no one that pays attention to them
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 12:29 PM UTC
People, most of the times ask me why I always write about the stars and moon and other related creations. I too do not know why. Maybe because there’s something in their luminance that makes me feel nostalgic. Or simply because of the way they shine out there, giving a little light in our world and in the world beyond ours. Or maybe because it reminded me so much of something or someone. You’re the head turner kind of person, the kind who cannot go to school without his homework being done. The kind who’s great at everything. The kind who I never noticed thinking they’d stay. And then one day you stopped caring and I started noticing. I looked for you everywhere and finally found you in the pedestrian lane waiting for the red light to turn green, waiting for the things stopping you from doing everything you love to let go of you. Waiting for it to give you a go sign. There I saw at the rainy night of October how your eyes twinkle. I smiled at you and the stoplight turned green and you started walking towards my direction. You stopped right in front of me and smiled back. Then started walking again meter by meter until it became kilometer and I lost sight of you. I almost mistaken your eyes as stars. But even the stars are such an insult for those eyes. Darling, I’m sorry for not appreciating your brightness in the daylight. Now I know, you are the reason why I always write about them, the stars, the moon and the sun. They could never sum up to your brightness but they’re the least thing that could be compared to you. Teachers always tell us not to look at the sun directly because it can blind us. That was what happened I became blind to everything you do for me for you were too close, too shiny, too bright and too much so when you started drifting away that’s when I knew. Darling it’s so much more beautiful to look at you from afar even if it pains me to see you shine for someone else.
(K.Cross)
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 5:07 AM UTC
Kamu; Perempuan cantik yang terdiam diantara langit dan segala keindahanya, tersenyum sendiri saat melihat luasnya lautan selat jawa diatas kapal yang membawamu ke Jakarta.
Aku; Laki-laki biasa yang terdiam diantara bukit-bukit kecil di gelapnya malam ini, tersenyum sendiri saat melihat gemerlap lampu-lampu kecil tersebar dibawahnya.
Kita; Terpisah beribu-ribu kilometer diantara laut dan bukit di negara ini, tersenyum sendiri saat merasakan hal yang sama.
Bercinta tanpa harus mengeluarkan kata.
Jun 11, 2019
Jun 11, 2019 at 9:05 AM UTC
Today I realized that no matter how many times you've rounded every kilometer of my brain, I have never entered yours. I've realized that you won't help me bandage my hand when it got burned when I reached for the stars that you wanted. I want you to swallow my poison for I have swallowed yours long ago and it's deteriorating me inside rapidly.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 7:39 AM UTC
Should I stay, or should I go?
Reveal the consequences I first should know
If behind the red velvet drape
it means I lose you, do I still escape?
We courted across mountains and cherished our flaws
If I head to the coast will you stay true to my cause?
I waited for you across thousands of elk
Will you now linger, as I re-boot myself?
How might I render your mind at ease?
I seek only to love, if not to appease.
Let me have a summer by sea.
It isn't you, my dear, it's me.
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
Man sku ha været barn af en anden verden
Tænk sig aldrig at skulle tabe noget på gulvet
Eller aldrig plages af lyden af service fra køkkenet
Mit livs værste dage har været alle dage
Og de dage hvor jeg har underlagt mig systemet
Jeg kan ikke holde alle lydene ud
Jeg har ikke lyst til andet end at spise nudler
I sengen med en jeg elsker
Jeg kan ikke fungere ret længe ad gangen uden hende
*** ser mine bare fødder og mine udvoksede kønshår
*** ser mine tårer og hører mig græde 500 kilometer væk
Kun hende vil jeg se om kun hende drejer min verden
Og kun kan jeg undvære hende fordi jeg ved *** kommer tilbage
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
Quiet Nights
*
This I am, sitting by the
Moving train.
Here I am, next to aged
Metal tracks, listening to
The cuckoo of the flying
Train, the train that leaves
Behind grey smoke trails like
The rabbit leaves behind its trails
In the woodened forests.
It is suddenly a grey dark morning day
In midwinter, but now it is
A warm dark night leveeing the
Tracks with vibrating gravel
As the train flies in front of the
Eyes and I listen quietly to the choo-choo’s,
Tucked inside my bed sheets
Half a kilometer away.
Big round opened eyes gleam
Brightly in that absolute darkness,
Until the train lights **** it in.
And suddenly they are dark, and
The room is lighted through the
Large window and its transparent
Plastic curtain.
There I am, half a kilometer
Away, sitting by the immobile gravel
Looking at the rear metals
Of a moving train that leaves
Behind large puffs of intoxicating
Smoke that disintegrates into
Large clouds of fog fallen onto the
Mobile homes.
*
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
792 kilometer,
sebuah jarak yang tak dekat,
tetapi dapat menyelipkan rasa yang terikat,
berbekal kepercayaan yang kuat,
di samping rasa rindu yang sangat.
Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 11:19 PM UTC
Jeg undertrykker følelsen af
at ville svømme -
styrte, dykke og falde.
Alle tre på én gang.
Følelsen af at vakle mellem
Succes og fiasko
At blive forrådt og stukket i ryggen
Langsom smerte
-
med hundrede kilometer i timen.
Ideen om at blive liggende og
aldrig være i stand til at rejse sig.
Angst og tømmermænd,
i en helvedes cocktail.
At vide med sikkerhed at
tanker kan dræbe,
hvis de råber højt nok.
Følelsen om aldrig at kunne lykkedes.
At ikke engang præcision -
gør perfektion.
Det eneste vi stræber efter.
At vi alle er engle med stækkede vinger -
holdt nede af fysikkens love –
nye højder kan vi kun drømme om.
At giraffer umuligt findes
og at ord som forståelse
og tilgivelse
Blot er ord.
-
Men hvad? Det er jo bare tanker.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
Savner dig på savner dig på savn. Umiddelbar kliché for det blotte øje.
Det der overgår klichén er ægte hvisker jeg til os. Minder os om. Venskab kan ikke ses med det blotte øje. Kun med mikroskopøjne. Vi har mikroskopøjne. Savner dig ******* savner dig. Venskabet er blevet langdistance. Fem kilometer. Udgør det ikke som lyskryds og myldretid. Det andre cyklister er vores største trussel. Men jeg er din cykelhjem. HUSKER DU. Du er min cykelhjelm. Hjemme i dit selskab. Siger farvel med udsigt til savner dig ******* savner dig .
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
I have an all consuming fear that I will never meet my “True Love.” That one person that is better for you than any other human being on this earth. Because what if we never meet, if we just keep living our lives settling for second best while our one perfect match is out there oblivious to our presence. Thinking we could never be happier. But if we met each other, any other feeling we’ve ever had in our lives would be obsolete. It’s ineffable really. There could be an ocean between you and your soul mate. A language barrier, a 7,068 kilometer fissure between us preventing our paths from ever crossing. I have to push this thought from my mind daily, because just thinking that I’ll never meet you breaks my heart. I don’t even know you, but if we never meet my life will forever be incomplete.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 1:27 AM UTC
random words spilling out,
a nine kilometer cloud,
it is something that i must shout out,
it wasn't until the final bow,
when i realized that life is so short,
i think i need to abort,
not a baby,
just reality,
for a while make me smile,
a nine kilometer cloud,
it made me frown,
it pulled me down,
a nine kilometer cloud
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 11:25 PM UTC
den hurtighed, der har omringet os er en, som vi alle forsøger at løbe i hælene på, omfavne og vise at vi elsker
men vores Nike Free 4.0 bliver pludselig fyldt med bly
mørkegrå, tonstunge, bindende blyklodser, der hiver og trækker kroppen ned i gruset, der smuldrer mellem fingrespidserne, alt imens hurtigheden får et kilometer langt forspring
pludselig ligger vi der, pulsen falder ned til et punkt, hvor den dunker i takter, der bemærkes og føles
noget lyd er omkring dig, præcis hvad det er, ved du ikke helt: det lyder dog bekendt, hvilket giver en blussende, varm fornemmelse i kinderne, og da hører du det - fuglekvidre
en sammensætning af glade toner, der tilsammen udgør en melodi, som letter dig fra jorden
de olivengrønne træer bliver tværet til siden, som om du kørte hånden over et vådt maleri, for du bevæger dig i bløde piruetter på tåspidsen, og mærker solens nuancer indeni
langsomheden står ved din side og snurrer i cirkler sammen med dig, inderst inde, helt nede i maven, der ved du godt at noget er forandret, men det siger du ikke noget til.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 3:37 PM UTC
Violins where plucked
just like grapes for wine,
speaking in the vernacular
of birds in the Amazon,
the colours of orange and green
with more species of bird
in a square kilometer
than they have in the entire
Northern Hemisphere.
Going to the outback as an adventurer
Might have been our grandfather’s idea,
one that I might share if things were
different.
But we have dreams of
large cities couple with an
ocean view,
and we both want to capture it.
From the sun setting
to the people it contains
to the raindrops falling off
a precipice,
going nowhere.
We’re artist, we can share our passion,
our passion shares
us.
May 13, 2012
May 13, 2012 at 11:30 AM UTC