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"loiters" poems
The moon is full tonight. I can feel it's pull. The cat stares at me. Her eyes seem to suggest she knows what is on my mind. As I gaze up into the mysterious sky, The familiar taste of salt trickles into the corners of my lips. I can feel a tug of my emotions, Like the moon somehow has a role in the pull of my interstitial fluid. It is basically sea water, Right? The black cat loiters a certain superstition within. Fear becomes instilled as she stares into my soul with her all knowing glare. "Blame it on the moon, blame it on the moon. Tides come and go, so this shall too" I strive to find the comfort this world has to offer me Some say it comes from within, this I am not sure of. The thoughts linger. The cat knows, I know she knows. What does she make of me in this incapacitated state? I taste the salt. It is drawn out by the moon. That is what I tell myself. Deep down I know the salt is due to the overwhelming grief I try to deny. And the cat is merely the internalized self stigma eating away at my self esteem and efficacy.
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Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 3:57 AM UTC
Moon drawn tear
Expectations swagger And clutter. Small talk Loiters dangerously near big talk As gazes dance between Lazy freckles. Questions are asked That require too complicated Of answers. Answers too uncertain And even once certain, Limbs putrify and freeze In the daunting path That has been figured, Fathomed, barely And never traveled. Habits, self inhibitions, Self-destructive agendas, Pull at the walker As his own mind swivels, Exhausted, Tipping into madness. He’s found the path But finds self-provoked Difficulty in walking it.
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
Path “Blockades”
They hide behind A masked impunity One that loiters on the lips That gathers dust While proclaiming A nightmare of angels Who haunt derangement In startling blasphemous hullucinations Which excite to the point of delerium Who menace with grandiose examples Which surpass all human capacities Renouncing indisputable rights as heresy Keeping their stones not cast, unthrown
0
Aug 8, 2012
Aug 8, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
The Hypocrites
It took a hastily-made hangman puzzle to **** you, a present-day friend of mine to simply whisper that three-letter word as if she were restating the gospel. Ironic, then, that as you were dying, I felt an era-long noose loosening. I remember finding skin pores mistakenly labelled as sinkholes, every confession warranting a "believe me, we knew" after the other. If you had spent any more time, an indefinite amount of days deciding to stay lurking in the corners of the closet, out there in the rafters where no one could hear you whispering poison into my gut reactions, I might have sprouted a kamikaze bloodline, a raucous rhythm in the ranks cackling louder with each year of silence, each span of secrecy. Although your plastic inflection vanished with a collective unlocking of the joints, your cryptic sentiment still loiters while my common sense is sleeping, and I remember to repeat, three times like Dorothy, that moment I could only be my true self on paper.
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Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 4:40 AM UTC
Elegy to a Former Self
Sit in stillness Allow the unrest Of idleness Contour the shape Of nonentity Soon you’ll hear A loud ringing Within your ear The same noise Howling staunch Before you sleep The same sound blaring As the world stagnates And time loiters And sorrow seeps up from the rug I don’t think you realize You will never see him again As long as you live For now he is a tall tale Retold to offspring A distant memory A mythic architect Nothing in the past has ever occurred There is only now And now There is only the wind And the world moves on And time resumes clockwise And his ashes are spread about the sea
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Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
Upon the Reception of Loss: A Letter to Myself
Some days you surface into, and there's no distracting yourself from that irrefutable inevitability that - ultimately - entropy will win. No quantity of authentic artisan coffee or online memes or juicing can pull you out of the black hole gravity of that one truth. The evidence is everywhere: the spiteful confusion of electrical cables your sleep-stupid fingers fumble and fail to untangle; the mold on the bread you swore would keep a few more days; the putrid, burst-open remains of a pink armchair, left to rot in a stranger's front garden; the scavenging army of crows that loiters, waiting for you to die and, in the meantime, walks ****** little footprints around your eyes; the oxidation of so many dreams. It's inescapable. Might as well root for the winner. Embrace the decay. Take photographs of rust, smashed glass, peeling paint, dead flowers. Learn to love faded colours and the feel of broken things. Catalogue your most interesting scars and mutilations. And, while you can, write poetry.
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Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 6:03 AM UTC
Entropy Always Wins
love doesn't dash, it loiters with repeated movements like music and beautifully crude endearments love doesn't dash, it lingers with rhythms like dance and boastfully rude aphorisms so dally with me, my love lollygag, lounge and in a while we'll share breaths and mess about
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Apr 19, 2023
Apr 19, 2023 at 9:31 PM UTC
don’t dash
There is an animal that loiters inside of me and it takes shelter in these broken blood vessels you left on my neck It sleeps on the words you left on my pillow It is a guessing game of whether I will awake to your silhouette in the dark peacefully, deliriously I swear in those moments if I blink you will disappear So this animal it must hibernate out of biological instilled and predetermined fear that I cannot make you reappear again It is both the paranoia of an unmastered magic trick that makes this animal run and the certainty I felt when I opened my eyes one morning and realized I had never quite experienced a ******* thing that has felt even half as good as you
0
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 10:37 PM UTC
Flock
I captured a purred etiquette, loitering in shortened heartbeats, rapping time, it slumped to the floor, are you exhausted? sprawled amidst shady feline secrets of the feline kind....mind blowing, pin point squinting, all day long as if forgotten, finding cover, you cannot see them, they see you while they rule the world with feline precision, paws patrolling park benches, walls ready made for clambering, trees stretching, introducing sturdy bark for clawed expression, baked leaves swaying, cooling the purring cat who waits for no one, joining the hours like dots, stringing out a yawn that interrupts pleasant planning, daydreams, baring teeth making way for field fun and activity, the day lingers, loiters, mimicking feline patience
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Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 6:51 AM UTC
Feline
The local duchess of importance is the bag lady she loiters unsatisfied the rain is a ****** loss it ruffles her hair kept in place by rusting clips, whatever goldmine she was enamoured with was swept away in the torrent, she's more than partial to gain but cannot recall dancing with a forty niner or freeloading in the blaze.
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 7:38 AM UTC
The Bag Lady
don't ever think you're the best until you've climbed a mountain don't even waste my time until you've drunk from my fountain my rhythm, my rhyme my legend, my crime innocent as the moon is bold magnificent as the sea is cold you cry, you beg you may even scream the words pour out of your mouth like steamy fog it lingers, it loiters for corrupted exploiters tears weep and they crash out poison and trash and you have the nerve to just push me away through the black and the white thick and thin shades of gray you might hear my words you teach what i preach but just remember my voice may be tender and yours will subside i'm your last contender
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Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 8:25 PM UTC
GLADIATORS
The background music loiters in the wind Notes resting on molecules and floating towards me Sounds of instruments strewn together Eliciting movement, bodies close, Liquid tension drips to the floor I wish I could feel the movement Lost in a body that has forgotten how Embarrassment as I stand motionless And the room moves around me The music calls, it demands a narcosis I am the only unbound to the spell And my eyes dart away, abashed A reverie finds itself creeping in my mind Younger and lost in immortality I once enjoyed the witches curse of youth And moved like those before me I walk away, unsure of my maturity Should I grieve my missing youth Or should I be grateful that the spell cannot bind me?
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Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 5:43 PM UTC
Spellbound
Far in this den of flaring links With jocund ships and dismal streets, You know by heart those piled up heaps Of low-browed, beetling roofs. But for the miracles in store, You would have felt a little sore. As chilly bareness falls for snow To make some fine excuse. Although the feeble candle-light Has latent echo, once you sigh For dreary days, it's still alright To be bereft of drip. It changes tune, indeed. Your tune. The one ghost hummed in gleaming room. The one that fits ones homeward blue. The substitute for gift. At length the sudden knock you hear, For all delight, and thrill, and cheer, You'd hardly ***** with fingertip For long-deserted door. With dark brown curls and sparkling eyes You meet a stranger, for demise Is yet to catch you by surprise With writing on a stone. Too late to have your fate reversed, Dream dwindles down into bedpost, And pale, as though you've seen a ghost, You scramble out of bed. Mist loiters near the stirring cold- It's all the wonders to behold. The big prize turkey have been sold In store around the bend.
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Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 3:58 PM UTC
A tune for a winter night.
Darkness loiters the corner store Across the street from my home Like a vagabond high strung beneath midnight shadows A magician of sorts- He stands still Aware that his presence is unknown Yet his spirit breaks free at night Darkness crept through my window Replacing once radiant sunbeams He evaporated my senses recklessly Approaching me with a vicious grin I went to speak but my words disintegrated He replied- It's time your dreams begin
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 2:41 AM UTC
Midnight Shadows
In sunshine's glow, we wear a smile,   yet deep inside, we feel the trial. The weight of hope can feel so grand,   but woes can linger, close at hand. With every cheer, loiters niggling doubt,   can happiness withstand what life is about? To be the light, yet fear the strain,   When the bright facade can crack and fray. Beneath the mask, a heart may strain,   for constant joy   can feel like pain.   ©️Lizzie Bevis
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Nov 5, 2024
Nov 5, 2024 at 10:51 AM UTC
Pessimistically Optimistic
Shut your eyes and go to sleep listening to the gnarled willows weep. Kisses on the forehead goodnight to ensure you are tucked in just right. I will sing you a gentle lullaby as the birds fly off into the jet black sky. The moon is laying low for you to use as a night light in case you are to get a nightmare and feel a distressing kind of fear. But do not be scared of what lurks and loiters in the shadows of your soul for I will hold your hand and tame those demons to a dominant demand. The hold they have had for quite some time is now reaching the end of its disintegrated line. I can see your cold smile defrosting in the sun now as the willows shake off the winter snow and you capture some of the new season’s glow inside of your wholesome soul. So my beloved friend, shut your eyes and sleep listening to the willows weep as now this peace is finally yours to keep!
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Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
Untitled #5
A viaduct looms over my daily commute; trains rattle above. I pass through its belly each day. A canal ambles beneath one armpit, Scrubland loiters under the other. In the belly , glaring headlights inch forward towards their kin; Metal, rubber and glass jostle for place, Engines thrumming. Shiny shoes pinch and stiff collars tighten; Fingers start drumming. Deadlock. Gridlock. On the indolent canal a barge floats serenely, fat fish meander and Skinny - legged moor hens tiptoe through the reeds. An old man in rough tweeds pokes his stick through the scrub land on the other side, Searching for blackberries. Lights change futilely; amber, green and red. Engines rev and teeth grit. The belly rumbles. Ducks fly in and land on the still water of the canal. They swim in formation under the bridge. On the other side the old man sits to eat his fill His fingers purple with juice. Clouds scud, a breeze cools and the sun appears. Collars stiffen, indicators tick, nails are bitten As the cars inch forward. The bloated belly heaves As a few cars cross the border to meet another impasse. Concentric circles appear on the surface of the water And gnats flicker above it. A family of coots sets out for a morning outing And a kestrel hovers above. Deep in the undergrowth field mice Scurry away from the old man's boots. Dry sticks snap under his heel and the sun warms his thinning pate. He takes the slow path through the undergrowth, Meets an ancient lane And strolls the familiar path home.
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Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 3:13 PM UTC
The Viaduct
A viaduct looms over my daily commute; trains rattle above. I pass through its belly each day. A canal ambles beneath one armpit, Scrubland loiters under the other. In the belly , glaring headlights inch forward towards their kin; Metal, rubber and glass jostle for place, Engines thrumming. Shiny shoes pinch and stiff collars tighten; Fingers start drumming. Deadlock. Gridlock. On the indolent canal a barge floats serenely, fat fish meander and Skinny - legged moor hens tiptoe through the reeds. An old man in rough tweeds pokes his stick through the scrub land on the other side, Searching for blackberries. Lights change futilely; amber, green and red. Engines rev and teeth grit. The belly rumbles. Ducks fly in and land on the still water of the canal. They swim in formation under the bridge. On the other side the old man sits to eat his fill His fingers purple with juice. Clouds scud, a breeze cools and the sun appears. Collars stiffen, indicators tick, nails are bitten As the cars inch forward. The bloated belly heaves As a few cars cross the border to meet another impasse. Concentric circles appear on the surface of the water And gnats flicker above it. A family of coots sets out for a morning outing And a kestrel hovers above. Deep in the undergrowth field mice Scurry away from the old man's boots. Dry sticks snap under his heel and the sun warms his thinning pate. He takes the slow path through the undergrowth, Meets an ancient lane And strolls the familiar path home.
Continue reading...
38
How can you love someone you never met? My heart knew him in my past life. Strangers with memories. I wanted him every second of every minute of all my days. Forever. I love him because of what we could be. Not knowing anything about him. Being graced by his prescence. Being the shadow that loiters enthrallingly. Indescribable feelings. Naked eyes see us as solely occupying the same space. Blind to the love I've sighted first. Fate defines us as soul mates. Waiting on our memories to be made.
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Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 10:00 PM UTC
Strangers
Prudent To truth did I ask one day Fond loner! will you take me for a company? Dear, know that I were there even before your God. He made rivals with Satan, who is bent on regaining paradise. No one knows in what guises he loiters the world. No one knows what games he play to take one to his side. So, I walk no more alone. Since I have learnt a lesson from God- Satan duo I keep my arch rival for a friend. Look he is close behind my heels he follows me like a shadow. I can't live in fear for life. And that's precisely why when look at the face of truth You suspect a lie too.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
Prudent
Blues and greens with fusions of orange This is the colour of you Visible purity, illuminating my every room And I love you for it, that and so much more Every shade and every blinding moment The fear of the unknown is no more Because I have your light You grant me clarity in the darkest of places When I fear even myself The unknown person that loiters inside You have illuminated all of her hiding places And I love you for it, that and so much more.
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Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 5:34 PM UTC
Colour of You
Curled up on a too-small sofa Misery oozes from every pore The fan, a giant spider on the ceiling Dimly seen in the pre-dawn darkness Less dark than the shadows in my soul. Another day of nothing happy Loiters just behind the sunrise Daring me to find a way To build a life from broken rubble ljm
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Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
BEFORE DAWN
For Woz *Flavoured on this moody day Though the sunshine’s fled away Heat bound here in tepid chair Choking back a black despair. Old friend mired in cancers’ grip Metastasising deep in hip, Anguished waves of constant pain Obliterating light again. Takes a time to climb to bed Where ghosts and goblins curl with dread. Takes a while to coax his smile But humour loiters there awhile. Offerings hot cup of tea A small relief which sets him free, Leans against for helping arm Rewarding glance of subdued charm. Wending home dark, windswept street Puddeled sad tears wet my feet.* M. 15 February 2016 Auckland.
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
Old Friend in Anguish
The orange-tinted frames rest on her freckled nose turning her eyes to droop down till my finger, on the right hand shows a letter written 25 years back, the pink sky spreads on the faded black – cloth worn by me yesterday, petals imprinted in her canvas reflect the beaded necklaces she wore her hair loiters down till the tiles when the shoes step on a single strand of black beauties sensible to fall, she sits and stands down the stairs to a doorway opening to the starry sky where a single sphere emits the light revealing her aura and snowy skin, her hands sway the threaded nets away showing a more clean bricked wall mortared with the beaming sand taken from the hearts of the ocean, her beauty lies in herself , where does your beauty lie ?
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May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 10:18 AM UTC
Judy
No you wouldnt I'dve been there like the police when a black kid loiters Never would I have exploited ya I can heal fast but this'll take time **** it. **** it. If only you could've been mine Idve held you like a queen, Cleopatra over Egypt But you couldn't see what beats in my chest it's like when I try I get shot down Every time I opened up I get shot to the ground I guess I'm stuck alone on my own a king with no queen to share a throne My fate is sealed I'm giving up for good I'm gonna be the loneliest ********** in my hood Now I'm gonna do what all plan B guys Get back to crying in my pit, my sanctuary and my curse That I've now described so accurately in that verse This may be the worst I've ever jotted down But I guess you never see the sadness behind the mask I wear, as the clown.
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 12:54 AM UTC
Now that you've ripped out my heart
He sits in a corner all on his own, Waiting, for the chance to take you home, He lives under a waterfall, Where there’s no body that can hear you call, His words are few, He loiters and lurks, Waiting for you, He stays indoors, all on his own, Waiting and waiting to pick up that phone, He lays in his bed feeling nothing but sorrow, Waiting and waiting to see You, tomorrow.
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May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 6:30 PM UTC
He’s Waiting...