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"leadened" poems
I turned on the news tonight, and saw a familiar face Maya Angelou speaks of Nelson Mandela “His day is done, our skies are leadened.” It hit me then, Forgiveness is more than  “Oh…it’s okay…” If a man, a single freed prisoner, can change a whole country, can forgive oppression, and depression, and apartheid brutality, Forgiveness is not simple. Sorry is not simple. It’s a chance, to open the door to redemption, Entire countries have forgiven the inhumanity of the past, And yet all of us, each day, Become angry for such small matters. If nations can rebuild, If Polish person can love a German After the Holocaust, We CAN forgive. Forgiveness is the key to our self-imposed prisons.
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May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:53 PM UTC
Sorry Is Not Simple
My heart was leadened a frozen feather in dense ice spiraling in a tornado. I grew colder building a shell to weigh me down so I could stop spinning; I dreamt of shattering, splinters on the ground. You were a single ray of light that pierced the storm, calmed the grey-green tempest, and my shell began to melt. I finally saw rainbows. Your warm breeze took hold of my heart, carried me, taught me to dance; But even feathers hit the ground. So I tied myself to the cobwebs in your heart and became your dreamcatcher. Dream easy now, our nightmares have disappeared.
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Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 11:50 PM UTC
My Feather Heart
I. The pen Taps Against my leadened desk, All reverberating echoes and Roaring staccatos: Something to keep the soldiers Rooted In the chalkboard trenches alive- A cackling reminder of Freedom. II. Peeled away is the blissful world of Morphine-addled haze And round edges The smell of pine trees And Monday Vendetta. Up in smoke. Offered to the gods. The great big furnace in the sky— I carry them with me in an ashen urn. As the days pass A rhythmic stutter Lumps At the bottom of my throat.
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Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 8:35 AM UTC
Little Drummer Boy
Leadened yet floating Arie to the eye Awry to the soothing whispers, Of the mother’s cry— Once beleaguered without volition by self Now with intuition wrought Of memories of invisible battles both of fighting and of fought While the sun shines ever bright, The bustle a lively hue Behind the fleeting colors lie A darkness most uncouth Oh these vivid pangs of the heavy vast Seem to forever lie Within the weightless acquaintance of the ever azure sky The chains so heavy bite the heels, But ever do the fated wheels Spin towards the sun in the East Towards the lively, the impassioned, the Peace. The choice lies not within the sky, Nor in the mother’s tearful eye, Nor in the darkness of the cloud, But in the fire refusing the funeral shroud.
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Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 2:59 PM UTC
Cumulus
at a glimpse i clock the sky a curtain's been draped      and we are all shaded all of nature shares one direction      narrowing on the horror : a munking and blotted violation      the sun has filled with dark ink an embolism out of the order of life      voiding over us                      over the city                      the world described beyond                        all voided over i fall          dropped          and shucked the people around me go simple dumb and bound with crimple gawps      we are mugged by the sight i feel like a farmed over minefield               furrows being turned trotted out              anointed fears climb my throat it is a show sung ill           sol        darker sunk      than its surrounding leadened soak yet ringed tightly with an annihilating halo practical thought becomes clotted    and my primal processor is tinkered with evil witterings squirrel about in my thinker my being is topped up with depravity i must surely **** someone ? but who.. (that kid with drool ? / that business suit with brand name trainers ?)    and for what reason ? i madly stare about look at them ; so human and null potential victims all                    raking in snapshots of this ecliptic venom                      adding to the vat collective online Prune The Brutes ! it is The Eighth Day and I know my role Ha !         such livid thoughts scheme i shall wait out this exposure looked down upon take some pics with the others perpetrate goodly behaviour mimic the tossers pass through the ordeal         with communal protection                     and live another day              happy slapped                        with fresh mad                                thought
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Apr 18, 2022
Apr 18, 2022 at 12:28 PM UTC
e c l i p s e
at a glimpse i clock the sky a curtain's been draped      and we are all shaded all of nature shares one direction      narrowing on the horror : a munking and blotted violation      the sun has filled with dark ink an embolism out of the order of life      voiding over us                      over the city                      the world described beyond                        all voided over i fall          dropped          and shucked the people around me go simple dumb and bound with crimple gawps      we are mugged by the sight i feel like a farmed over minefield               furrows being turned trotted out              anointed fears climb my throat it is a show sung ill           sol        darker sunk      than its surrounding leadened soak yet ringed tightly with an annihilating halo practical thought becomes clotted    and my primal processor is tinkered with evil witterings squirrel about in my thinker my being is topped up with depravity i must surely **** someone ? but who.. (that kid with drool ? / that business suit with brand name trainers ?)    and for what reason ? i madly stare about look at them ; so human and null potential victims all                    raking in snapshots of this ecliptic venom                      adding to the vat collective online Prune The Brutes ! it is The Eighth Day and I know my role Ha !         such livid thoughts scheme i shall wait out this exposure looked down upon take some pics with the others perpetrate goodly behaviour mimic the tossers pass through the ordeal         with communal protection                     and live another day              happy slapped                        with fresh mad                                thought
Continue reading...
55
Everything is gone now, just a jack-in-the box that scares money's already wasted, **** it I never cared, as usual this life has leadened, sped up my sorry death - a song written for the heartbreakers; sung upon my last breath bloated and black, happiness not as it seemed destroying the gift that for years I've dreamed, she gave me her heart and I slashed it wide open for its clear to see I cannot love, it's clear to see I am broken - who needs love and it's pathetic excuses a gnawing feeling both corrosive and abusive, thy gargantuan question looms with a killer in it's eyes - had I been in a relationship built upon lies? Flowers of abnormality bloom upon ashes of mistrust as my tortured soul frantically flounders in the dust - down down down the downward spiral again I am shoved, forever asking if I can ever love, and in return be loved.
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Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 7:14 PM UTC
A Song For The Heartbreakers
This blur held me As dust fell upon dust The speeding devil A race upon not won A corners cut From a crosses held The end a must A drivers tale This leadened foot I know so well Can only lead Forgotten tale This is the end The crash foretells A marriage broken The in Exhaled
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Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
Breath
you drive my car    and i am a serious man a passenger   thru dumbland                   leadened head laid back                 i've been allotted time   in that liquid sky totally fxxxed up   but it's bin a day  hasn't it? don't breathe                                          we are gone beyond     we are eyes without a face our inter-beings   all blood tea and red string in the wrong hands   we are a ****** party hand in hand you are my spider baby                             and i  am all ‘mom and dad’ at play i dread you should say 'i don't know what you mean ?' ...but it doesn't come to that you allow me                      and we are smiles unravelling space and texture miles of scope and no arrest for the wicked no rest for the foreign no reign for the horses   no horse for a kingdom we are kings of this country                             yet we belong to this landscape and its negative edible riding with you (roof down  converted)             we joined the new world                                     we took a journey   to the beginning of time           it feels like we're fleeing   an extravagant shared criminal act i look across at you  and the brood of thoughts     are so sedate and fantasy ***** and socially writ that i broker the realities we’ve borrowed                 (the flux gourmet splatter of dimensions) and return us to the pair of cannibals in love that we are                                           firing out across trip america            an invention for destruction invited back by life's appetite                                              [signed] - a love exposure
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Nov 9, 2024
Nov 9, 2024 at 11:06 AM UTC
road trip appetite [using titles of films i recently borrowed from the library]
you drive my car    and i am a serious man a passenger   thru dumbland                   leadened head laid back                 i've been allotted time   in that liquid sky totally fxxxed up   but it's bin a day  hasn't it? don't breathe                                          we are gone beyond     we are eyes without a face our inter-beings   all blood tea and red string in the wrong hands   we are a ****** party hand in hand you are my spider baby                             and i  am all ‘mom and dad’ at play i dread you should say 'i don't know what you mean ?' ...but it doesn't come to that you allow me                      and we are smiles unravelling space and texture miles of scope and no arrest for the wicked no rest for the foreign no reign for the horses   no horse for a kingdom we are kings of this country                             yet we belong to this landscape and its negative edible riding with you (roof down  converted)             we joined the new world                                     we took a journey   to the beginning of time           it feels like we're fleeing   an extravagant shared criminal act i look across at you  and the brood of thoughts     are so sedate and fantasy ***** and socially writ that i broker the realities we’ve borrowed                 (the flux gourmet splatter of dimensions) and return us to the pair of cannibals in love that we are                                           firing out across trip america            an invention for destruction invited back by life's appetite                                              [signed] - a love exposure
Continue reading...
34
Cold, freezing, stinging, sideways rain catches me off guard A grey, leadened sky; it falls; wisps of raincloud; swirl twist, mix. Somewhere thunder echoes through empty, flooded streets, brazen and cold A few children in a narrow alley; half naked in dark puddles, among broken crates and trash and a wet, decomposing smell. Smiles at the cold water between their toes and numb feet Shrieks and cries at distorted pictures in the muddy water. Freezing water splashed in each others face, until they are blue, or their mothers call for them; they playfully run for cover Thin layers of cloud, pulled back like velvet curtains. Pulled back, revealing a brief sunlit puddle. The children see it, face first to the icy water, but the curtain drops, a thud on the empty stage.
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Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 1:43 PM UTC
Numb
most nights you decant into my head wounds you suggest my makeup orchestrate my being and sometimes for fun prank me with ridiculous ideas that inspire some absurd social pratfall lure you make me warm and sure of myself struck and sense numbed but floss in the memory tide i am a Diving Suit but in misuse i am a suit the pressure the deep ocean filled from the inside cold darkness and nutrients   but i am filled from the inside pipette you tap drops into special valves along the sides of the aquarium helmet you decorate my inner-scape with harvesting monsters and phosphorescence you deteriorate the textile of my sadness a thorough jettison lull via your Vegas your adolescence i follow your string of lights deep sea skiving mortality embracing your malady with no ill effects ? sink deeper still i am leadened to your charge and plumb to your will deeper
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Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 8:20 PM UTC
flotsam — (or 'Mermayde')
Shaded trees please cover me twine and vine have started unwinding my limbs are hanging they wax they are waning and you won't stop I'm still complaining you tempted me into branches so thick their fingers dipped in sap do stick to my sagging thoughts my leadened mind I just want your gaze my worries to bind want my moods it to raise and my secrets to find.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
Hide me in shade
My body is weak and restless Toys scattered, sweated brow Been working at tiring myself out for hours Nothing gives ****** after mind blowing ****** Still hungry Ravenous, without satiation Unable to keep my hands to myself Therein lies the problem Want and need **** a fine line Between my ability to control and my ability to let go Breathe it all in, in one great gasping breath Your scent ribbons through the chaos Single minded focus on Northern winds Edged with snow capped romance Gets me going, gets me hot Too hot, drop it Butterflies join the descent Crimson splashes behind my eyelids Oxygen deprivation presses in with heavy, leadened weight Just. A. Little. More. Yessssss Echoing cries as back bowed, muscles wound tight Explosion. Atomic fire ball. Liquid. Catching air from the landing I curl up into a self-love hazed ball Ready for the next round
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Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
Fine Line
This blur held me As dust fell upon dust The speeding devil A race upon not won A corners cut From a crosses held The end a must A drivers tale This leadened foot I know so well Can only lead Forgotten tale This is the end The crash foretells A marriage broken The in Exhaled
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Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
Breath
it is much like rain this hot evening,           prompt in arrival to assuage default                   settings    like most days when in the intimate dark           which love I clutch and whose               hands i ****** shatter before me     between the moment just arriving         and the press of disappearance      this body that dartles onto the leadened           cathedral of  your heart, the jaundice      of your repeated self accumulates            to harangue this true evening yellow     starting a burlesque of moon, flushed          in the punctuation of mildew. grass    its fragrance the first time and the last,          translated - a revision of wind's gesticulstions. else it was strangely always       pure dusk, wide-eyed, awake in futurity     dare the hands clench and the feet        mingle with swift pace much like     rain    this   evening      forgetting       a jammed, rusted   parasol              your first time underneath the world,        Summer ending in a blink of an eye,           a stab of bated breath.
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
Rain