"liebling" poems
Do not look for your youth in me
All you will find is a grayed wizened tree
In the middle of the forest, hollow and empty
Surrounded by lush, younger, greener saplings
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC
he was always told not to be afraid of the Big Bad Wolf;
the big bad wolf and his big bad claws and his big bad fangs and the wicked way his eyes would gleam r e d in the dark.
*do not be afraid,
liebling*, his mother would say,
brushing his hair from his forehead before kissing him goodnight.
he would curl under the covers,
curl in,
curl in,
curl –
oh, no.
do not be afraid of the big bad wolf, he tells himself,
staring at his mother’s coffin as it is lowered slowly into the ground.
(it was not an open casket. could not be an open casket. her lip was split and swelling and the bruise over her eye was too dark to cover and his father’s knuckles are still red and raw to the touch.)
do not be afraid of the Big Bad Wolf,
but when his father lays a meaty hand on his shoulder and squeezes,
he shivers.
“i am not afraid of the big bad wolf,” he says into the mirror,
staring at his own split and swelling lip.
he meets felix and loves felix and does not bring felix home with him –
until the day that he does.
“he’s not the big bad wolf anymore,” felix says when he tells him what he’s done.
his clothes are rank with smoke and burning flesh,
and he remembers his mother, and the closed casket at her funeral.
“i know,” he says, straightening his tie.
(this casket is closed, too.)
there is no such thing as the big bad wolf,
not now, not today, not when the time for fairy tales has long since passed.
now, his hands itch for a gun,
now, his fingers itch to pull the trigger,
now, he is restless and he is ****** and he is a criminal.
(who’s the big bad wolf now?)
“my father was a monster. and so are you. and so am i.”
his funeral will be a closed casket, too. he smiles.
kala weeps.
he sticks the gun in his back pocket and thinks of his mother.
*do not be afraid,
liebling.*
i am not, he wants to tell her. i am not. not anymore.
(but still he sleeps with the gun beneath his pillow still he dreams of retribution from hands dripping with blood still he wakes and forgets that he is safe still he breathes and is afraid, deep down, is afraid of the wolf he has become.)
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
Das brennende Herz
Ich liebe dich.
Ich blute dich.
Ich beobachten Ihren jeden Atemzug.
können wir immer weglaufen, bis nichts mehr übrig.
Lassen Sie uns gehen weg für immer, können wir in der Samt Mond tanzen.
Ich werde dich halten.
Ich werde dich küssen
Bis meine zitternden Lippen blau.
können Sie Ihr Zuhause in dem Feuer meines Herzens finden
oder Sie können mich mit dieser sengenden lange stare brennen
Ich brauche dich.
Ich werde Verzweiflung.
Ich werde Sie Schlaganfall.
Auf der Wange so weich und langsam.
Aber ich will nicht das Gefühl, die Liebe, die Sie tun,
Ich werde mit kaltem gefüllt werden.
Ich werde bis zum Tod zu springen.
Ich halte den Atem an.
Wenn das alles was man braucht um dir zu gefallen.
Also sag mir, Liebling, was Sie wollen, was muss ich tun?
Sie sehen unsere Liebe ist ein brennendes Herz.
Ich brauche es.
Ich hasse es.
Schmerz, aber notwendig von Anfang an.
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 10:14 PM UTC
As I allow you to look at me with those big, heartwarming eyes, I know you know I'm melting.
I know that look you're giving me is only to get what you want, and oh, baby, it's working so well.
I only want, well, everything from you, but my spine is curving and I'll take something, anything.
But it appears you're just as flighty as I am, Liebling.
And even though your actions have spoken louder than your words, (on both sides of your confusing fence) I still remember what you told me, or rather how you said goodnight.
The look you gave me when I found out was more than likely misinterpreted on my part.
Wishful thinking.
But it appeared close to remorse, nearing nausea.
Which were echos of the pangs I felt.
"Sometimes you've got to fold before you're found out."
Apr 8, 2011
Apr 8, 2011 at 5:52 PM UTC
was magst du
in diese heilige zeit
Was magst du
in diese dunkle nacht
Mit verringertem atem
und geschlossenen augen
mit schallgedämmt Gebet
und vergeudete Stunden
in diesem dunkle stunden
mit tränen und liebes und leiden
Was macht du liebling
was macht du schatz
was Sie auf der Suche nach
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 4:44 AM UTC
Fanwisdom gedachting a hearth-billow in my Herz
Ich hab' gedacht it fairer still to know
Than amongst dein Welt it predisposes is perplexed aloof
Extraños kann nicht go where I must go
And von und an die spinniest of Hund
In peril and with Angsty tougher Hands
Will not crepuscular desecration sofort ensue
Für nichts ist wichtiger nur ein Liebling mood
Versucht wir probs and totes adorbs
But still zu schieße tired and hasst to sein
Während wir sollen in the proper sense
Man oh yeah das Man sagt en vino absorb'd
Was wicked waste and After it schmeckt schleck
Über ist nicht was es ich verpassen now
Most mehr mit Menchen kommt wieso I ask?
Wenn wo I know it is so very untoward to cow
Kuh oder a coo cannot redeem from drain
Zeit and Mal scent rempeln us all or push
Klar we cannot stop the starkest Zug
Nor yodel holler up the lane for ****
And just wenn denkst du, dass eyes is mad
Know that for Worten the harshest Lebens macht
To get you just to see and versehe sum
Unwertens none of us will ever be ich gedacht
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
Encorporations, Liebling --
Weforms, y bubbles in being buvvles.
Ancient knowing, long sacred, hidden,
as with the legend of confused names,
Epimythiums accosting promethean bets,
day and night, eat your heart out, free
from regrets, satisfied mind, okeh, free
to act as agent
for lady liberty, here post feudal self,
as discovered in a canyon, much the same
as Sha'gri La from story, Havasu Canyon,
as home of a boy I knew, whose grandfather
had made peace, with good intention,
to remain in Supai until the end of time,
then, there come the missionaries, guessing
Victory in Jesus would rouse the innocents
to repent for never having imagined Hell,
as sure as can be made believe,
by **** sapien innocents,
never led by setters free,
into known uses
of old Eber clan ever words,
otherwise, still, small, breather thinking ideas,
whims like what if this is that, and we ready,
readers like think as fast as we can write,
as if we have been taught to dance
as when we drum along and dance
in mindful memorizational motivational wills,
to live the story we form as our weform agrees,
these are the realms of spirits, these are words
enough for the wise in any situation, sent, willing
to breathe, and feel, the whole wind working bit,
the smoke you may use, indeed, see believing
work out a salve for that itching ear, feeling
we form on-demand, at hand, at touche', indeed,
doing done, done did get done, this away from that,
back to the future,
through common senses used,
globally translatable
with Google Translate, using
copy and paste
of encoded letting out of dogmen,
from another mindform mingled
with mine, shall we
imagine Ancestory.com as a technology needing a lie,
to make believers
in what DNA can prove today,
if we go back far enough,
we were masters or slaves, and masters knew,
what slaves were not at liberty
to know,
without former knowers telling, so
dystopia ontological negative hope,
the princess and the pea, and me,
the wildass idea,
in the vineyard,
as the a sunbeam purpled
in a cluster
carried me
in a reverie
of poetic grandeur
indeed, into the afterward, ward after last.
Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 5:07 PM UTC
author of these clumsy fictions-
dearly yours, on all fours
fighting attacking our young dreams
from corners tight, often alight
amour, oh traveling one,
fearful darling
-c.j.
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 3:28 AM UTC
Happy things are things you deserve
Not abusive friends
Not abusive parents
Not abusive partners
And you don’t deserve that, liebling.
Happy things are like drawing a nice thing
Like not stuttering while talking to the cashier
Like sightreading a piece by Paganini on the first try
Like finding out someone loves you back
And I’m happy for you, even if someone else isn’t! I love your work!
Happy things are like getting over a fear of planes
A fear of people
A fear of opening up
A fear of being out there
And I’m proud of you for getting over whatever it was! You improved, despite everything! Congratulations!
Happy things are like a Christmas present you always wanted
Or a birthday surprise you weren’t expecting
Or a popular poem you weren’t expecting to blow up
Or a good grade in a hard test! Good job, buddy! I’m proud of you!
Happy things are knowing people are out there that want to help you!
Happy things are having people around you that care!
Happy things are getting to choose what to do without fear of being judged
Happy things aren’t doing things for the sake of others
Improve for the sake of you, not because someone said so.
Maybe you don’t want to!
But if you’re not here…
Won’t people be wondering where you went?
No matter how small your account is on social media
No matter how little friends you have
No matter how much you think they don’t care
I can guarantee you, someone will be worried
But hey, what am I to tell you anything?
That won’t stop me from telling you to keep up the good work, buddy!
I’m proud of you for improving <3
(hehe I don’t make any sense)
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 1:49 AM UTC