"leaver" poems
He crinkled the daily
paper and thought out
loud, "You're my
best friend."
She scuffed her
kitten heels, prodding
for more. Far inside she
told herself to take it lightly.
He knew she knew
that he knew it was
temporary. Acting as if
she made him happy.
She sunk deep in
the velvet green
couch. Cons and pros
of being the leaver or the left.
He stared past Valentine
cards and the spot on
the carpet, where they
laughed and spilled tomato soup.
Their faces drooped and became
that soup. Sodium and protein
soaking into the ground
every which-way.
She resided and sat
up out of their yard-sale
bought couch. She set her
mind on staying by his side.
He toppled over on
the yard tools he never
touched. Now next to his
side was the Earth's crust.
She was left in the air
and he laid in muck.
His voice played over in her
head, "You're my best friend."
May 10, 2012
May 10, 2012 at 2:32 AM UTC
We've both been through a lot lately,
Enough that we make the most
of distractions that present themselves.
I don't like to sit down and study
How a signal from your brain,
Reaches receptors in your toes;
Or how a muscle twitches.
And you don't like to be alone.
It's been our tradition,
The three of us,
Since we were about fifteen,
To modify our bodies;
(read: mutilate).
We pierce and ink ourselves.
You got your jumping Koi
When you were fifteen
Still in high school.
We got our ******* pierced in the last year of school,
Bored with the idea of maths or science
We wanted something interesting,
And that's what we came up with.
You came back to school
And couldn't stop showing people,
Even when they didn't want to see.
We all got our animals together,
My cicada, your frog, your bird,
The leaver's dinner for school was that night.
We were still rebels.
Then uni last year,
Two quotes in braille around our ribs,
And your quote in Latin
(which turned out to be Italian)
"No lies, just love."
Now today,
A new cat on my arm
And a rose on the back of your neck.
We are perfect,
Immaculate.
Procrastination at it's finest.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 3:52 AM UTC
The air is brittle this ominous, wintry night.
The slivers of a life you used to know still haunt you, as surely as you have permitted them to be a haunt to others.
Without question, it is those memories that spur your ruminations; that cause your copious circumlocutions; which compell you to stand on this somber boulevard in front of this crumbling, but once stately manor that now is a languid presence with the solitary purpose of looming over the vast grounds.
It is obligatory that you proceed along the avenue that used to split the yards that are now overgrown and chocoblock with twisted vines, and thistles.
You pause, to gather your strength.
One deep inhailation and then you hold your breath as you grip the tarnished handle and lock leaver.
With a perfect measure of strength your thumb recalls, the mechanism is undone.
Your arm pushes forward.
The silence is disturbed by a warbling creak as the heavy door is slowly opened.
You exhale, then before you lose your nerve you quickly pass through the ingress and enter into the foyer,
which is instantly familiar in the dim, flickering light and the long, slender adumbrations effected by the gossamer encaked voltives jutting from the dusty walls.
Though it has remaned unchanged
throughout all the time that has passed, standing in the ornate room affirms that the warmth with which you used to be recieved here has been abandoned to a frigidity.
You feel as if this room remembers you.
This is as far as I dare go with you, my friend, though I know you must continue.
I have listened to your stories, so
I know you have many rooms to search.
The closier that you seek is in a matter that is not my own.
I will depart upon rendering these words of warning:
When visiting the past,
As you daringly explore these often haralded halways,
Be careful what you leave behind.
Take caution not to lose yourself,
For a shadow lingers in the Suite Sublime.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
There's this blank page in front of me
And I'm supposed to fill it up with words
Thing is, the emptiness of the page doesn't inspire me
It frightens and intimidates me
**** you, blank page,
Fill yourself up with angry words
And god-awful sentiments
I don't have time
I got too much of too little inside my gut
To fill you up like an empty ****
Just like me, yeah
Ain't you just like me
Another empty **** on a blank page
Having to apologize and cry your eyes out
For the one and only person who you showed yourself to
One and only who touched you
And held your naked soul against his
The only one who dared to fill you
Like I fill you now
That ******* who had the gall
Yours loved and left you
But I was the leaver
But that son of a ***** had the nerve
To try and ******* me as I left
And I knew I KNEW
Knew it wasn't right
Knew you couldn't be the one to hold me all night
With all of your anger
Your lack of sympathy and empathy
And human compassion
You were sweet just for me
But you'd watch the world burn
Just to satisfy your moral pride
And self-righteous concern
So go on and wonder why I left you
And I'll try to change myself
Yeah, just a couple of *****
Making love on blank pages
There's somebody here worth changing my life for
Worth the infamy and destruction of telling
Telling the world about the **** on blank pages
But words are thick
Melted glass that stumbles and slips and tumbles
Crumbling all over the ground
It echoes the sound of my own voice
Accusing myself for making my own choice
For choosing the wrong
The bitter for sweet
But who are these people to tell me to beat it
Why should you decide my worthiness
Or the sincerity of my penance
****** why do YOU get to send me away
When I've already got Hell to pay
Just to the ******* who I left in Hell
And the angel who's trying so hard to save me from myself
**** you bishop, cardinal, preacher, God and law
You're all just a bunch of blank pages
Empty ***** of all ages.
Just let me live
Let me die
On the back of this blank page
Let no one turn over
And no one will be shamed.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 1:04 AM UTC
(Monday morning, on the roof of an Oslo construction site.)
~
Seagull. Filthy peace flag screaming
His own name upon the city.
*It is I! Eater of scraps, leaver of
Droppings!
Sword beak, dagger tallons!
Anti-raven! White blood cell of
Your airborne bloodstream.
The skies would be half a chess
Board in my absence!*
I sit on the rooftop drinking water,
Listening to him echo between
Tired buildings.
Norwegian city morning.
Sunny and cold.
I watch the red of mist muffled light
On his wings as he soares towards
The bay for his fifth breakfast.
Today will be an interesting day,
I whisper to my soul as I empty the
Bottle and stand up.
A conductor tapping his baton against
His note stand, raising hands and an
Eyebrow to the orchestra.
Get your Monday in tune, and the week
Will follow accordingly.
Seagull. Filthy peace flag.
Declaring himself victorious
With his every forceless breath.
~
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC
At an old friends birthday party,
and I knew you'd be there, too.
Look at me: I've finally got a belt on
and I finally laced up my shoes
Now look at you:
Everyone eating out of your palm
fed by silver, across the room
But remember what the bald kid once said:
"There is no spoon"
The web of life's had us connected
A Taker, a Leaver
The renown rejected
And The Story of B wasn't what I expected
But at least I finally
finally read it
Again,
Your nose and cheeks,
lupus red,
The blush of wine
leaves you out of breath
Like the bite of a wolf
that leaves you closer to death
You can't escape the web
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
Monday morning she rises fine,
Sunshine in her hair.
Scented Elderflower fills the air.
Her heart beat pounds with good intention.
So loud he can but truth perceive.
A relief to be of their lonely damnation,
Two of them leave this here right there.
Here and there, coming and going.
Friends from past love affairs.
Nobody knowing.
Nobodies' there and nobody cares.
For the long lost lady with the sun painted hair.
Leaves by the back door,
Discreetly dressed in lemon juice ,sweet.
Walks down the pathway.
Tripping on air,hornets nest hung in her hair.
He's a ****** leaver, mystic magic weaver.
She's left on her own.
Here and there, coming and going.
Friends from past love affairs
Nobody knowing.
Nobodies' there and nobody cares.
For the long lost lady with the sun painted hair.
It's Friday morning, the chips are down.
The roulette wheel flipped out again
It's rolled into town, pursued by the others, the long lost lovers.
The bills still need paying, her baby's still playing.
She's left on her own again.
Here and there coming and going .
Friends from past love affairs.
Nobody's knowing.
Nobodies' there and nobody cares.
For the long lost lady with the moon sprinkled hair.
(c) Livvi
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
Do not trust me or my gorgeous eyes,
I will only ****** you and feed you my lies!
Do not wrap your heart in bows or kisses,
I will shatter your dreams and all of your dying wishes!
What a beautiful fool you've got to be...
There's no love or angel inside of me!
With tears you feared to be alone?!
Foolishly calling me your loves only home!!!
Your heart wrote lyrical lies!
Songs of how your hips felt under me and in between my thighs!
You wanted me now and then
and over and over again!
But baby making love to you,
I was already remembering when!!!
Behind my curves only an empty heart pounds.
Yet like poison you fell for my un emotional sounds!
I was born a leaver only meant to leave!
My dear, can't you see?
Heaven forgot to rain just for me!!!!
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 5:48 AM UTC
I'm the Nat Geo reader
the Facebook creeper
the go- to- sleep- later
the fake ***** hater.
I'm the question asker
the things- I'll- never- use- again stasher
the big stomach eater
and natural leader.
I'm the girl with the
small eyes and big hands.
And why would God
give a girl
with so much to see
and no one to hold
small eyes and big hands,
can you tell me?
God is laughing you see.
He's saying Child..
I knew you'd be a
seer- to- believer
a mental image taker- not- leaver
so I gave you small
thirsty eyes
and big hands too,
because you're usually a pusher
and bigger hands would
make you that much more likely
to hold things close to you.
So my squinty eyes can see
that my big hands push me
to pull things close.
And I completely forget their size
when I thank God
for a mighty fine pair
of hands and eyes.
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 9:46 AM UTC
HUMANS ARE OBJECTS
LOVE IS ONLY PHYSICAL
*** IS A RELEASE EVERYONE NEEDS
HAPPINESS THROUGH PROMISCUITY
SOCIAL STATUS THROUGH LEWDNESS
WEAKNESS IS REPULSIVE IF NOT ******
EMOTION IS DULL AND BORING
YOU NEED ME
MORE THAN YOU WANT TOO
EVERYONE NEEDS ME
MORE THSN THEY WANT TO
I HELPED PULL THE LEAVER
THAT EXTERMINATED LOVE
AFTER *** ED LED THE CORRUPTIBLE
TO MY TURPITUDE
I CAME TO YOU AS AN AFFLICTION
ILL LEAVE LIKE AN ADDICTION
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 1:06 AM UTC
automobile assault again
by
churchlot crasher.
departed, damage done
even
forgoing forgiveness.
grumbling gomez glowers,
haranguing
impossible immunity.
jeez! just...jerk!
klutzy
lot leaver!
mangled mobility machine
needs
overnight observation.
poignant payment, pending
quixotic
recompensing ravager.
supposing satisfactory salvage.
truck
under
vehicular
warranty.
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC
BUCKLEY BOY
Caressing half-sounds
Stumbling your stories
Under star-snake glories
Round the flickered embers
Did silence shake you
And tear you apart
As desperate loss
Tracked endless plains?
Dying in your dreams
When the cord tightens
Did your execution
Proceed as seemed it must?
How many atrocities
Were buried in the sand
And laid aside
Then brought to hand?
Years without kindred
Did you lose control
Find communion dead
And cease expression
Traversing the empty spaces
In dark companion?
Did you long for traces
Of what was told?
In the waste and fever
Did regret ride high
Chaffing the leaver
Chiding the loser why
So many roads were tried
Through trackless wastes
Where stream beds lied
And haste led back?
Walking on the edge
Of no escape
Left on hillsides
By your last mistake
When the dark broke in
Was an icy flaw
The token endpoint
Holding a wider line?
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
You will always be the best,
So much better than all the rest,
When you left you took my heart too,
We both knew it could never leaver you,
And when I kiss the stars goodnight,
Know its me kissing you and holding on tight,
To all the memories and moments we shared,
To knowing you were always the one who cared,
I hope you know how much I did love you,
While you cross the heavens to a world a new,
I hope you hold my love in the palm of your hand,
I hope you know my love will always stand,
It's timeless love and even though you are gone,
I will remember whenever they play our song,
And when it is all finally over and done,
You will always be the only one.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 3:32 AM UTC
A loud caller,
A tail chaser,
A fast runner,
A human saver,
A cat hater,
A trouble maker,
A good swimmer,
A messy eater,
A poo leaver,
A noise maker,
A face licker,
A fetch carrier,
A tail wiggler,
A bone eater.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
Lovers
become leavers and
leavers' love
is the strongest I've come to know
you who would ask me my
secrets
but not take care to see
why
they were kept
did you follow my fingertips across your skin
they were
graceful
when I had no other grace to offer you
you
who asked to know me when my smeared painted
lips whispered
that love and understanding are
far
too often separated by knowledge of the secrets you
in your only
naivety sought
to know.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:27 AM UTC
Lover.
Fighter.
Runner.
Writer.
Backstage
Breather.
Relationship
Leaver.
Killer.
Creator.
Artist.
Achiever.
Don’t let the smoke out
Don’t let me either.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 6:23 PM UTC
"You'll leave. Everyone does."
Four words spoken from the heart
Weary little one, the truth is often heavy is it not?
You're so earnest dear, how many have you seen go?
Close my eyes, bow my head
The truth is hard to blind
"Yes. I've always been a leaver....why stay went no one else does?"
I look at her, eyes narrowed
Something as big as her, scared?
You can go, leave anytime you want
Seek what you must
I remain here.
No matter what.
"Of course you'll go! No one cares about Ird!"
Oh little creature....don't you know?
If you love it let it go
This world will forget me, drag me down and **** me
I'll fade from your memory too
I can never stay.
"I do. I-I can't stay, I'll be here until the end of time."
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
in disguised fashion,
and contemporary flair -
Nazi-laden euphemism -
rushing thoughtless at
bricked wall.
knowingly, no way
through, though run
on tip-toes to
gain agility of ancestors.
pseudo rain-dance;
is that cultural
or is it racism?
no room at the bottom anyhow;
we'll linger here
developing emotional interlingua
as means to better,
to comprehend gaped chasm;
allusions, perhaps
it's a bit more magic
oriented than prior presumed.
(the ever consumed)
then fretful sitting,
continued curiosities of death;
(perhaps hyperbolic?)
feet still stink ten years later
while linger understanding
of sepsis; is this life infected?
is this a gangrenous growth
in existence;
was dead at birth,
and rehearsed the gurgles
prone to an actor's drowning
monologue. euphemism?
perhaps only rhyming to
schism metric longings.
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 7:17 AM UTC
she is just a chord in an extravagent musical classic,
a stir in the wire, a tune hidden but in bass!
she herself not aware where the music leads her to,
but;
the persistance stay,
and she jumps up and high, low and down the pathways....
and than he appeared;
loveable but bitter, intense but flowy
grasper but leaver, harsh but low key,
he showed her the love she parched for,
but still in bits and pieces;
he is the waterfall that is bound to keep you thirsty,
still u are aware,
there is no way to astray here and there...
he loves her like a winter sun,
cold and perished, warm and so hot that burns.....
"why still there is a void so deep and peristalting
resurfacing now and than "
do the loves of all lovers so unfulfilling
or its just a charisma of love that makes u perished still parched?.......
the hands of his ,melt inside her heart,
reverberation so strong she feels the taste of blood in her mouth....
the world go around in all direction, may be its called a skip of beat
or
may be she is no more in senses to think so deep!!
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 7:17 AM UTC
you told me things you thought would scare me
but it only made me love you more
in the back of my mind, i always knew you werent coming back
those nights ment nothing
when id crawl underneath your sheets
tell me stories of all your travels and the people you have met
you think youve got it rough
with all your pain and anger
you run away to leave it all behind
your not the only one who gets lost sometimes
leaver, wont you stay awhile
we’ve got all the time in the world
just stop in for a while
tell me secrets, hold me closer
run your fingers through my hair
and in the morning when your gone
ive known this heartbreak all along
dont think your the only boy in town
who holds me tight and kisses me sofelty
because ive been caught up in ones like you before
and when you leave i know the pain
and i always remember who loses the most
and it always comes down to me
did you ever think maybe i want to run away to
that your not the only one whos had it bad
take my hand and well scale the skies
but you still think your to lost to be found
leaver, wont stay awhile
we’ve got all the time in the world
just stop in for a while
tell me secrets, hold me closer
run your fingers through my hair
and in the morning when your gone
ive known this heartbreak all along
so get me out of this town before i go crazy
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
11:30 am sharpe
Somehow I knew you’d be late
Still buzzed from last nights
Drinking yourself to sleep
The pain that you hide
Glows in the blue of your eyes
At a distance you stay
Keeping me arm’s length away
All I want is to love you
To take away your hurt
But you are a forever leaver
Never to be saved…
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 9:09 PM UTC
And every time I'm left or every time I do the leaving
there is change
there's new music on my sleep playlist
there is the imprint of words shared, or maybe not shared
theres the loitering of scents in the deepest particles of my cloths
And every time I'm gone from his life or he's done the going
there's his name doodled in the margins of my notes for a while
there is the shadow of his hand on the small of my back
and the trace of his lips on mine
there still remains the sound of his breathing, of his heartbeat
Whether I am the leaver or the left, the heartbreaker or the broken hearted, the winner or loser: there is always this time of transition. This testament to how intertwined our lives were for a period. But with him it never ended. I am still so utterly haunted by his absence and as the others fade I watch his absence become ever present, ever growing.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC