"lacked" poems
You used to tell me how you didn't like the way I lacked a sense of intimacy,
How I wouldn't hold you the way you wanted to be held,
The way she held you,
I wouldn't kiss you much in public,
So you didn't give me a chance to get away,
You would hold me tighter and my escape was found within the lock of our mouths,
I liked it,
But I always wondered what normal really is,
Were you like this with her or was she normal,
Do you crave the touch of women who lack the intimacy you desire, or do you simply like playing our little game,
As of late I've tried to touch you more, say words which feel like rosebuds,
So sweet and elegantly delicate,
And the more I show this foreign concept if an intimate relationship,
The more I fall in love,
The more I fall into your trap of smiles and fingers running through my hair,
The more I crave your kisses, your touch,
What happened to me?
Because darling,
I'm afraid.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
Could it be that I substitute lustful infatuation for love? or mistake an act of kindness for trust?
Using his words to define me, i mean refine me, leaving the real me in the dust
Can you really blame me for being attracted to someone who shows interest in my existence
Someone who is persistent, consistent and whose smile breaks my resistance
It's a real feeling I get of satisfaction through common conversation of nothingness
The willingness to waste time with me means something to me if not everything for me because time can not be given back
Sorry your interest in my existence was nonexistent, guess in the 90's being a father was wack.
Respect from hoes was worth more than respect from your daughter
If it was up to you, if you were her, you would have probably said "abort her"
You knew I was a girl and that I'd be your first daughter but that wasn't enough for you
You had 9 months which turned into 1 plus twenty now you're begging for my heart to attend to it's broken it needs amends too, a man too?
So I'm looking at guy after guy to cut into some deep hurting pain from my past
Not realizing that they can't give me what I'm missing cause I can't miss what I never had
I asked God for a brother but I never got em
When I was 8 I wanted to meet my Father but I never saw em
After that, just like everything you cant change in life, you learn to accept
Accept and move on not accept and dwell in it
Yet I found myself looking for what I lacked in a male figure in a young boy
I didn't know it yet but my innocence he would destroy
How can you be sure about love and if you're in it, if there is no demonstration clearly displayed to see
How can i be sure that he loves me for me, not what i give or what i can be but everything that I am if I haven't truly accepted me for me
I long to feel love from a man who created me with his *****
Not physical love from a boy with a toy in it ***** I'm talking something long term
Deeply invested in things that cannot be returned or given back
Like time, memories, laughs, tears, words, or the lack...thereof
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 4:42 PM UTC
The distant park
Was a graveyard of dead stars.
Each streetlight a system of worlds,
So many lives between each mote of light,
Indistinguishable in their unique love,
Bespoke hate, and the drama of the modern age.
Drunk laughter behind transparent
Double doors. Another hotel balcony,
Another cloud behind the canopy
Of marijuana eyes
To unsettle me from the crowd.
She points out, when you look closely
You can see the disorder
Amongst all constellations
Of life and love and litter;
Of discarded Coke cans
And temporary highs.
She says this is not a scene
To imbue the ****** of a present mind,
More to baulk at the incompletion
Of one thousand to-do lists;
A million reasons why
You should just stay inside.
She says you can see the human swell
Of ignorance, our city lights
Blotting out the stars
In a black ocean of broken politic
And irretrievable fault lines-
Divisions between us all.
Lives twisted with professional smiles
And eyes lit with stunning indifference.
Still, I have felt charity and warmth
On the doorstep of lunatics and fascists.
I have read the love of life
In faces of those who gave up.
I have recounted countless artists
Who saw beauty
In moments that precisely lacked it.
I have spent too many nights
In anaesthesia,
Fleeing each instance of feeling
And terror; all the tremors
That tell me I am still alive.
Continued to stare at the lights
Long after her voice
And the laughter inside had gone.
Heard waves in the traffic.
A world so large, so expansive,
It can never truly sleep.
Every broken heart,
Every war-torn land,
Every promotion,
Every one-night stand.
I wonder what would happen
If we all stood still.
If we all took one moment
To observe the motion
That unfolds beneath
Our static windowsill.
If we all took one moment
To recover our loss.
The wars that we won,
The feelings, forgot.
The hell we retain;
Our paradise, lost.
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 11:07 AM UTC
There were plenty before you,
But don't get me wrong
You were my first love.
The priors i loved but
I was never IN Love
Till the day I met you,
Your innocent smile & golden heart
Never will I forget;
How you told me
I was only your second kiss,
You were 18 how could this be;
*You were reserved n pure
Before you met me.*
A year of on and off
& we fell IN Love
You knew the ****** deeds I did
& one day near the end of summer
You invited me over; caught me by suprise
When you lead me to your room
And removed your shirt
The pregnancy scare
Is what tore us apart,
I wasn't there;
Trust was broken,
& faith in men destroyed,
You never smoked
nor drank till after this
You must have been trying to escape
We stop talking
Cause you needed space,
I never once thought I should text.
You felt unwanted n used
By the way I lacked to try
I destroyed you,
corrupted you,
And I'm guilty of that
We agreed to stay friends,
But that didn't work
& we went our separate ways
Then last Christmas as if a miracle,
You came back into my life.
*I never stoped loving you,
Never stopped hating myself*
I let be known
That I'll lend a ear
When ever your down.
You must think I'm being sweet
Just to get another hit,
But the truth in the matter is;
I know you'll never take me back
Not after what I did
But I still feel guilty
And I wish to mend the wounds
After all I'm the one who caused
Them all.......
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
He was born in 1924
And at 17 went to war.
Parachuted over Sicily,
Wounded, sent home to live in civility.
One day he met a Ryder,
Tall and elegant and regal.
Married her and made a home,
Though the front lawn lacked a gnome.
He died before I could really know him.
But what I remember is this:
His heart was good and full of love,
Tender, strong and not at all rough.
He pulled quarters from my ears
Whenever I saw him.
He and Shadow walked the beach
For miles before a swim.
He smoked cigars and drank beer
While playing cribbage.
And he was my favorite person
When I was four years old.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 3:46 PM UTC
What if every one was forced to see,
The world exactly, even just like me?
A world where all, think as one,
A world where peers chose who we become,
What if it was wrong to love,
If we lacked the freedom to rise above?
The tragedy of a forbidden word,
Cages the mind like a wingless bird.
The human mind is meant to wonder,
We need to be free, we need to ponder.
If the world was thrown into darkness,
Nothing would grow and be reduced to hardness.
We need to know,
We need to grow.
We need to love.
And we will rise above.
What if one person chose to know?
What if one person desired to grow?
What if one persons heart sought love?
What if that person rose above?
We are each unique,
God gave us power to speak,
We should use our gift,
To teach and up lift
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
I passed a small boy named Solomon Woods
deep in thought with a book
He licked a finger, turned a page
too engrossed to give me a look
I met a young lad named Solomon Woods
humming a gentle tune
He smiled and waved, shook my hand
and wished me a good afternoon
I danced with a friend named Solomon Woods
while he sang me one of his songs
What he lacked in skill he offset with zeal
and insisted I sang along
I sat with a man named Solomon Woods
glad of his still, gentle manner
His reliable smile and kind wise words
drowned out the usual clamour
I walked with a gent named Solomon Woods
glad of his confident stride
I knew for sure he faced the world
trusting God as his strength and guide
If you meet a man named Solomon Woods
he'll certainly stop for a while
If you have the time, he'll sing you a song
and leave you with a smile
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 4:39 PM UTC
walking through the woods i was surrounded by a plethora of golden bronze amber leaves tumbling in the wind sparkling with a star fire that evanesced from their jagged edges upon their descent. i stood entranced, mesmerized, utterly hypnotized by their glorious magnificence. i observed with intensity as a golden bronze amber leaf never having been attached to the majestic tree had no need to let go but gently released. feeling no trepidation it wholly lacked desire for manipulation to control the forces of the wind. i watched in awe and wonder realizing that it never disengaged from the tree knowing that separation is an illusion; it simply became the wind. whirling it shimmered in the autumn sun as it wafted with no need for reins allowing its destination to unfold. gingerly cascading it settled tenderly on the ground resting comfortably in ambivalence. i sensed it did not cringe when it was picked up by an unsuspecting boot but intuitively knew immediately that it was being carried and dropped off serendipitously at an auspicious location. i listened to it intently and drank in its essence as it simply lay in being not obsessing over what would happen consequent but sat in sheer stillness seemingly encompassing all totality. i was stunned to see that it lingered without judgment in undivided clarity for what wild synchronicity would come. it quenched its thirst in mystery while being completely at home in uncertainty. the golden bronze amber leaf seemed one with all that is while simultaneously retaining awareness of self-perception. as a gentle gust of wind coalesced with the beige fall sky it literally merged with the momentum enjoying the ride to its perfect destination. with delicacy it rested cozily in ambiguity whispering to me that heaven is a state and not a place. i vow surrender to black and white existence pledging fearlessly to climb higher creating life with vivid vibrancy adding golden bronze amber to my palette of colors with which i’ll paint.
©2016 janetaylor
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
#*'Twas a time I deemed thee love;
the echoes lacked contraire
Sea moon shadows dance across
this isle of despair
Entwined flesh eyes doth ne'er perceive,
outside the mortal's scope
No sole charter giveth passage
through salty waves unknown
'Tis what I think to see thee there
on pedestals of gold
Forevermore you place thyself
on stalwart shores alone
Unfurl thy sails for distant lands;
the lighthouse shines once more
Praying to gods that long lost ship
will find its way to port.*#
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 11:58 AM UTC
"Wait a year, they said, wait a year and things will get better. They think one single lapse of a human’s concept of collected time can change anything. A year she waited, she listened; she had to. But the year came, and the year then went, and nothing had changed. The girl was left with nothing. There was a hole, a chasm, never to be filled and never to be touched. There was nothing left and soon she could not find words, syllables, even sound."
A year ago, this is what I expected. Funny how a character I created much darker than I, actually reflected the shadows of my soul. I never realized she was me, the darker me, the hidden me, the me I was after I lost Him.
The depression is real. Its is apart of me. The swirling vortex I'm so afraid of I have to accept. But it doesn't mean I cannot smile. The turbulent tremors of my aching heart will forever be apart of me, but they do not control me. I control me.
Control. That is something I thought I lacked, but I realize it is my strength. Without my strength, the dark wonderlands of my heart would have taken me already, to a place that would be darker than imagined.
I didn't want the world to see me, because I didn't think they'd understand. And when it came to him, I was right. He didn't understand why I couldn't just **** it up and smile, why my outlook wasn't so positive, why I was looking at the world so darkly.
Its a dark world, darling, if he knew me, he'd know its actually optimism most days. But no, all he saw was the darkness and how I could not overcome it and it broke me from him, like a rock from a shore.
I felt like a rock with him, not a season, that is until I met more people who could understand, who could see my face behind these broken eyes. It murdered my never-ending love for him, because I could finally see I could do better, I could be happier.
Bipolar 2.
That's me, but it doesn't control me.
Not anymore.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
The reason why I apologize
So profusely over the tiniest of things
Is because I always feel as though
I am a bother and annoyance so
I want the person to be aware that
I am truly sorry for the mishap
I may have brought about or the wrong words that may have come out of my mouth
Because in the past I had to apologize again and again
A million sorries I must have said
Just to get the point across
Just to assuage the anger I unintentionally caused
I apologize repeatedly
Because I fear not being taken seriously
When I say sorry I mean it with all of my heart
I apologize even when people say I am not at fault
Because in the past I was always the one guilty
I was always in the wrong
Because when that rage came up and rolled along
It rolled right over me
And so I said sorry
I said sorry to the steamroller for being in its way
And for the broken bones and bruises on my heart that I carried for days
I apologize for apologizing
Because I know I must sound so repetitive and annoying
But I feel as though I can't apologize enough
To make up for and cover up
Whatever sin I may have committed against the one I am apologizing to
Because when you say it’s okay I always fear it’s not true
Because in the past those hiccups and bumps
That weren't even my fault were held against me for months
No matter the amount of times I said sorry and meant it
And the number of times I tried to fix
The mangled mess that wasn't mine but that I was still apologizing for
It was like going to war
But I waged it and gave my best effort
To stitch and sew up the jagged cuts
Of long angry nights and an alcohol filled gut
But failed and then apologized when the seams ripped and tore
Because no matter what I did was going to restore
What used to be
Or repair the damage that happened before me
And so I am sorry for that
That I couldn't make it better because I lacked
Whatever it was you were looking for
But that constant state of feeling guilty is what sent me out the door
And I am free of that weight now
But I still feel the need to say sorry for every little mistake now
Thanks to you I sound like a record stuck on repeat
So I’m sorry that I say sorry too much
But I never know when enough sorries are enough
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 2:08 PM UTC
I'm jealous of who you used to kiss,
Wonder how many you've been with
I'm jealous of who you might look at,
When I'm not there with you...
I'm jealous you'll see,
That I'm not good enough for you,
I'm not even good enough for me...
Maybe you'll then leave me,
Alone and broken in half...
I'm jealous of everyone I find better than me,
Scared I'll never even compare
I'm jealous of girls with confidence,
Something I've lacked from the start
I'm jealous of those fearless girls,
Because I'm filled up with fear
I'm jealous of their success,
Because I'm still way behind,
Where I really want to be...
I don't hate them for it,
I believe they deserve all the good they can get
I'm not jealous and hateful,
I'm jealous and sad,
Jealous and scared,
Jealous and hopeless
Jealous of the life I want,
That I'm so far from
Jealous of it all,
But still stuck to the ground
Jealous and jealous
I'm simply jealous...
Will I ever be pleased?
Will I ever be proud?
Will I ever get my success?
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 7:42 AM UTC
I must admit as well as appreciate,
I have the best father, my good fate.
All along, I had been wrong,
I have been cranky, stupid and ignorant
Yet you were there to make me strong,
And make my incoherent thoughts coherent.
Sorry for my mistake that I did make,
I'll correct it all, For your kindness's sake...
I promise to improve exponentially,
I feel high potentially...
To connect with etiquette,
That I thought you lacked initially..
But you are my dad,
You were meant to win finally
But I promise I would change,
And win this game, eventually
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 9:01 AM UTC
Unmoved by your arrival from the west coast,
ten thousand little things are different.
It’s October and the trees are on fire:
a forge that you won't notice, 'til you're gold.
Your Kicks don’t leave footprints on these cobbled streets;
even the children have old, leathery hands.
Try to paddle-board the Eno and the bass go belly-up:
that river’s for scattering ashes and making moonshine.
All they sell at Aldi is ethnic shampoo,
so now your hair twists like the roots you’ve lacked
'til now, because all you’ll ever need is two hands:
for prayer, and work.
Life moves on like a cigarette’s drag,
while somewhere Hope’s fiddle strums;
Take off your headphones and
go put your ear to an oak.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 9:27 PM UTC
Among the mountains and oceans we claimed,
Environments we no longer know,
Starvation from the knowledge lacked.
Strange men of unknown origin push us away
With feathered spears and their spirits
Flying above us like the angels we seek.
The spread of our culture like margarine
Angers the earth it's ancestors tread on;
War and thievery. Disease and infection
Was wildfire in a land containing no such
Immunities to the harshness.
First cities died as infants, stillborns
Of history and freedom, yet
They survived in their determination.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 10:16 AM UTC
The shoes were red,
and stood at 7 inches high,
perfect to look sophisticated,
and to feel like she was touching the sky.
Everyone criticized her,
because they thought she wore them to get attention,
and co-workers would confront her,
to give her a ***** mention.
Only the people don't understand,
because she feels self conscious of her height,
and the heels are the only opportunity,
to make her feel alright.
. . .
The shoes were brown,
covered with mud and dirt,
shoe laces tangled in a mess,
and didn't have any way to avert.
People overlooked him,
when he wanted something,
because they thought he didn't care,
but who are they to be judging!
The truth is,
in fact he did care,
but didn't have enough money,
to buy nice shoes to wear.
. . .
The shoes were neon,
like the color of the sun,
they had bright shoes laces,
that he wears when he runs.
People thought they were ugly,
because they were off brand,
and they lacked the character,
that all the cool shoes had.
But really he was trying,
to just fit in,
but they would reject him,
every time he begins.
. . .
Be kind,
for everyone is fighting a conflict,
that you know nothing about,
so don't judge nor depict.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
She stood, amidst tutts, wore a mini skirt...
(From the first decade). Took a
Step forward, pioneering the teenager
Long fair hair, parted mid section
Cascading over her cherry cupcakes
Remembering first impressions aren't always
Accurate, they still berated her without
Knowing her. First appearances were all
They knew and could rely on...back then
Why would she wear a skirt so short if
Respectability meant anything, closed off
They too had been judged, time dulling
Their posture straight backed. Space lacked
Room to be filled with meanderings of another
Era, balancing her book atop red curls and
Speckled egg skin. Recalling the longing
Admiration of someone who dared to wear
Their inner choice on the outside
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:25 PM UTC
january
how many more broken nights of crying will it take before you are strong enough to say goodbye?
february
stop forcing yourself to swallow your feelings. you are so much more than he is claiming, and you need to get this through your head.
march
follow your gut feeling. the way he speaks to you and makes you feel will never be okay and this is toxic.
april
stay true to your word and stop giving him more chances. he comes crawling back with flowers on your bed and you take him back every **** time.
may
you want to prove to him that you don't need him, and once he sees that get back together with him in a few months. but you tell everyone else that you are done for good.
june
you are surrounded by music and dancing and laughing and for the first time in a year you feel alive and apologize to yourself for allowing his brokenness to consume you for so long.
july
you can't imagine ever being with someone so toxic again. you regret letting him manipulate you for so long, but you know that you had to learn a lesson, and are now not so naive.
august
this has been the greatest summer of your life and you are thankful everyday that you worked up the courage to leave him.
september
you start college and see that he would have prohibited your future if you didn't leave him. he was manipulating and toxic.
october
you start to really like a new guy and for all the right reasons. you see patience, understanding, and empathy, all things that the last boy lacked.
november
you are still crushing on this boy and have now kissed him, but you know that you still do not want a boyfriend, you are not ready, you are still too damaged.
december
you are now dating this boy. you are scared to fall for him because you never again want to be so blinded by love that you stay long after it's gone bad. let yourself fall. this time you have learned, this time you are stronger, this time you are stable, and this time a good thing lies ahead.
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 11:31 PM UTC
Sitting here trying to make small talk, I'm going insane, we're all insane.
Broken topics over chips and salsa, god its so bizarre, I don't understand how "normal" we all are.
I keep my mouth semi-full so I'm unable to speak, I can't stand myself, **** why am I so weak?
Why does this bother me so? It's like no one even knows,
the truth,
be told it's a mess, I can't stand too much more of this, someone relieve me from this **** before it makes me sick..
All the underlying problems...drink to numb the pain but those same drinks taketh life away.
And I don't mean with death, for life still moves on, but it's broken into pieces and it's better off gone.
Cause one needs it to stay strong and the other knows that lifestyle is wrong:
Substances don't bring you happiness, they don't fix your pain, they ruin relationships and families all the same.
But we sat and we talked, topics in no particular range, and what hurts is seeing how things both have and haven't changed.
The connection is there, but the love has departed; neither hope nor intention to go back and restart it.
And now we're driving away and nothing is said, no mention of the insanity that hides in my head,
No acknowledgement to the tears I watch my own mom fight back..similar to the sick truth the whole situation lacked.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
Hungry for love, I was so hungry for love.
I am festering from my own greed, ravenous love.
Poor guy, he was a victim to this love hungry savage.
I attacked him with my love, pushed him so far away.
I’m not meant to be loved, no not meant for anybody.
He loved me, he actually loved me.
Yet I did not know how to love him back.
I wish he understood, and I wish I could have told him.
I’m not meant to be loved, NO ,should not be loved by him.
Stupid girl, so very stupid girl, and girl you are very much stupid.
Stepped all over his heart, unworthy of his love, so ungrateful.
My past hurt leaked into my present, unwanted, not wanted.
I felt like he was going to hurt me, hurt me, hurt me, I’m hurt.
I’m not meant to be loved, no not meant to be loved by any.
I am loves enemy, oh how love hates my bitter soul, my cold heart.
Let me in, I wont let love in, it knocks its knocking, I slam I slam.
Love wants to **** me, but I’m already dead, and now love buries me.
Here I lay; I’ve lost a heart, that beating muscle which enables me to breathe.
I gave him my heart, yet it lacked love, he didn’t feel, he didn’t know it beats.
I’m not meant to be loved, no no no not meant to be loved at all.
I love him, oh God how I love him, like you love us God.
But how do I love him, how do I show, how can I show?
I had, I have a Purple undeveloped, bloodless, loveless heart.
He pumped his blood into me; he drowned me in his love.
I tried to pump back, only a leak, over the years it drained out.
So what’s left for him, what did he get, a heart that’s dehydrated.
I’m not meant to be loved; no not meant because of me.
Here I am, sick with agony, dripping in pain.
Too late, its too late, how he hates me, me he hates, he hates.
How he tried, hard he tried, tried to fix a broken glass and got cut.
He’s bleeding now, I want to stop his pain, but the more I touch the more he bleeds.
I didn’t mean to God, I pray take his pain away, let him forget me.
Take the love he has for me out of his heart, let him drop mine, just leave it on the floor.
Let the herd demolish it completely this time so I cannot feel anymore hurt.
I never should have allowed him to grow near, but I loved him more than me.
I thought I was showing my love, I really tried, oh how I tried.
I’m not meant to be loved; I never was, never meant to be loved.
Never meant to be loved by anybody, never meant to be loved by him.
I'm not meant to be loved by you!
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
Excerpts from “Travels with Einstein”
by Michael R. Burch
for Trump
I went to Berlin to learn wisdom
from Adolph. The wild spittle flew
as he screamed at me, with great conviction:
“Please despise me! I look like a Jew!”
So I flew off to ’Nam to learn wisdom
from tall Yankees who cursed “yellow” foes.
“If we lose this small square,” they informed me,
earth’s nations will fall, dominoes!”
I then sat at Christ’s feet to learn wisdom,
but his Book, from its genesis to close,
said: “Men can enslave their own brothers!”
(I soon noticed he lacked any clothes.)
So I traveled to bright Tel Aviv
where great scholars with lofty IQs
informed me that (since I’m an Arab)
I’m unfit to lick dirt from their shoes.
At last, done with learning, I stumbled
to a well where the waters seemed sweet:
the mirage of American “justice.”
There I wept a real sea, in defeat.
Originally published by Café Dissensus
Keywords/Tags: Einstein, Adolph, ****** Berlin, Jew, Jews, Arab, Arabs, Palestinian, Palestinians, Vietnam, Vietnamese, American, Americans, Yankees, Domino, Theory, Dominoes, Jesus, Christ, Bible, Christian, Christianity, Slave, Slaves, Slavery, Israel, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 4:11 AM UTC
As he stepped into the ring,
Everyone his name did sing.
They wanted him to win
The title, for the commoners.
The title in his last fight.
He was out of practice,
His reflexes had slacked.
Gloves, boxers, guard, did him justice
There was something which he lacked.
Lacked in his last fight.
Before he could hear his favorite song,
Followed by the nerve-racking gong.
He had a look around
To catch a familiar sight,
Have a look at her before his last fight.
He checked the stands,
Then glanced around the ropes
And before he had given all hopes
He heard a familiar sound
Right before the first round.
Go hubby go! Punch him left and right!
She screamed with all her might.
Putting a smile on his face,
And then he boxed like an ace.
Winning the title, just for her.
The title in his last fight.
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC
What's your take on walking?
My body serves my soul
and tells me how to go.
My heart, affixed -- aims to show.
These ways I’ve walked in my shoes and stockings.
I've looked to heaven’s stars, to daylit clouds,
when I've stepped out, or dropped my gaze
to track the ground.
Yes, it is true—whoever passed me by
could have taken offense and supposed
I lacked my confidence.
And ofttimes, I strode out straight and true
as if toward a far mist horizon.
Un-manifest future,
even peek-a-boo,
could be comprehended?
I should doubt it.
And if I wished to address an occasional
in-the-dumps, lost-at-sea feeling,
I'd shut my eyes, and walk backwards --
owl-like, swivel 360 my head.
Backwards blind circumspection seemed worthy my try;
Ask--Who am I?
I would story where I’d been.
In my most spontaneous of nature foot-trafficking,
in roulette walk; my spin of gun chamber click--
ant, spider, beetle, and the occasional sighing snail
had fled my shadow shoe?
As slow drift clouds in a sky game would play
with the sun to hide—creatures had sought me out,
sung their farewells? (it was an excellent day to die)
Let me tell it, as it had happened today,
and truth says how.
My feet, they had gotten to waltz-walking.
O how my body and soul
danced a-fancy free.
Love was brimming out of me; happiness
whispered her wordless name; and
my tongue tripped nonsensical.
So if, at last, you've kept a-pace with me
in sympathetic striding, then perhaps
you would surmise:
there never could be a flat-footed me,
when I spout off with poem-talking.
Now, what’s your take on walking?
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
The beauty in a bow will only show
the rancid flavor it musters when it opens it's throat .
With bland intentions of subjects but loud quirks , its grey eyes will shower you with gloat.
Sheepish , arched lips will saunter you a hiss.
Your pupils get lighter and the lies get higher.
Fond of their beauty in substance of looks , only will you find the meaning in books.
Will you rattle a smile on a hook when your success won battle with your humble good looks.
The vain that slithers out of your mouth wont be a match for whats out and about.
Check again looks don't overcome meaning but meaning overcomes gleaming .
So give me a higher reason for not being to dreamy?
Self-centered, no i remember , it's not the center in my last November.
Last time i checked the cab looked its best on the exterior and on the inside lacked of a barrier.
Now look again at the vain heart , covered with smudges and a bland start.
Look in deeper all you talked was about you, i checked again and please don't lie and tell me it isn't true.
i'm insane and you are too , if one is narcissistic then baby its you.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
**inspired by
Lidi Minuet
and her poem
"HATCH"**
I found an egg of crystal
it had a little crack
though beautiful as opals
integrity it lacked
I asked the Lord to help me
"whatever should I do?"
He told me to go and plant it
when the day was new
and so I looked for soil
but no soft could be found
so I planted my wee egg
in hard, forbidding
ground
I watered it with tears
for others suffering lack
and after a little while
the ground
began to
crack!
a tentative green sprout
pushed up its tender head
it grew up from the rocky ground
I had thought so dead!
I continued watering
I knew naught else to do
and a tulip flower appeared
the lightest
eggshell blue!
I watered then in earnest!
I wanted for to see
that flower strong and healthy
and what it'd bloom to be!
slowly the petals opened
and lo! there fast emerged
a'singing and a'fluttering
a little crystal bird!
out of the light blue flower
the creature dipped and soared
it was then I realized
my hope had been restored!
flying 'round my head
its feathers sent off light
as brilliant as a diamond
shattering the night
it was only then I realized
as the darkness fell apart
the soil was life's hardships
and the
egg
had been my
HEART
SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/17/2015
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 6:17 AM UTC