"lucidness" poems
You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever.
Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. There are days when I can hear my bones straining under the weight of despair, this madness that erupts like an earthquake when I feel you lost. This heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until there are none. It is a mortal danger, perhaps not to life in a strict sense but mortal still, for I know very well my soul would harden and never be the same if I lose you.
But think not for a minute this is despair's babble, even in my seldom moments of calm and lucidness and peace I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than ever mine or someone else's. I want to deserve you, for I have to love you E, I have to love you. It matters not this wound that burns like two, it matters not that I search for you and I do not find you, even as the nights go by and I do not have you.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 4:04 AM UTC
It was in an empty hall
I heard the crack
It was like,
Glass shattering.
My smile
The picture of seventh heaven.
I heard the sound,
A child’s laughter.
The very essence of
Childhood.
A girl in ivory silk.
A bouquet of Cypress and Thistle.
Took hold of my hand,
her’s feeling like
reapers mirth.
In the graceful steps
of a dance
We waltz though the halls.
In the distance
I hear the chatter of life,
as it mourns of its
Forsaken Child.
I walk down the cold hallways
the vibrant color of light
bleeding out
like bleach to
a stained world
The hooded man
collecting it as penance
He walks behind us
his aura dark as
my ivory girl.
She leads me to a
room covered in twin
Glass walls
Bars first positioned in front
only to keep oneself
from killing the Reflection.
As she leads me
to the center of the,
Glass castle
Worlds of delirium
reach to my body.
Touching, pulling, violating
Words of the glass reflection
that stares back
and takes
my every movement.
As I stare again,
I see my ivory angel
she giggles in the reflection
sounding like chiming bells.
Her skin pure
like a porcelain doll
She cracks and shatters,
as my ears hear
The distant lament of lucidness.
The world blight,
Eroded to red.
Bittersweet mania,
flashed in my eyes.
I almost felt the kiss
of fragmented
Reflection
Scarlet,
dancing with
me in metallic glory,
As I fell through the Glass Castle
of the hooded man’s laugh.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
I've fell into a dream
Nothing is what it seems
Shrouds of clarity tear my senses apart
Where am I, why am I here?
A path illuminates and down I go
Seemingly into the rabbit hole
Visions stir inside
Colors flood my mind
Suddenly I awake to my reality
Or is it still a dream
Lost in my reflection
Stranded in my introspection
Is this all there really is?
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
Love is always so fickle,
Itself only as strong as our commitments.
Oftentimes, we seek a level
Which is non-commiserate
To that which we offer.
We often feel ourselves
To be what's most important.
Pushing & pushing.
Until that day
In which the push is away.
Distance becomes
Only that which we are close with.
Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 10:07 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
in a few pieces and left for leeches to
**** all the energy,
believing that you'll never find someone that'll
fit the description of your epitome,
that's what all people in this world go through
even if the're already in marriage,
knowing that something is wrong with the entire
thing , you thought you were in love ,bury it,
laughing at past mistakes like it didn't happen in
your life , that's the mistake you made,
the exes the keep calling and thirst is so small for
the things you wanna be and the things you say.
/
Days will get worse in every since of the words I say to
You,
Noone will have your back in these troubled times that
We get through,
Don't have remorse for people that look for attention in
This life,
Don't Make the same mistakes in this life thinking it'll
Be alright,
Hear and feel it come to me,
Bad energy in flares,
Find you lucidness that makes life work,
It's not empathy,
Will your love dwell,
Hell's Burning while God sees me Struggle.
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 11:53 AM UTC
Like a newborn
I am stimulated
By whatever is near
Discombobulated
Things become unfathomable
I’m unable to grasp
My surroundings
What is near and
What is far?
Distractions flow
Like tattered streamers
Waving from a
Parade float heading
To the junkyard
With blurs all around
Life becomes like
Circular bands of light
Emanating from streetlights
Along a foggy riverside highway
Whenever lucidness invades
Life seems simple,
And I realize
it is simple
All that is required
Is to traverse
Layer upon layer
Of events and missions
Difficult to accomplish
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 8:33 PM UTC
How do I still endure this grueling test?
I guess that's why I smoke so much
but I can't use it to connect
I simply abuse it's elusiveness
heartbruises I lose it
so I cloud all of it's lucidness
I will never get used to theft...
Especially if you take my daughter from me..
That's indeed the way to fuel my death
but here's a never changing fact
she's my daughter, and she inherited
questions, some will be answered
untill my side of the truth is said
and that's why you'll never take her completely away from me
and that's why she'll never be able to completely break with me
And truth be told our marriage was more of a fusion
I would never wish what I feel now.. and what you do upon you
so why do you question me if it all was an illusion?
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 1:58 AM UTC
peace
was found
in the backseat
of a cop car
where no one
was held
outside
a closed
thrift store.
when faced
with being
left behind
passed over
wins out.
I’d go fishing
if I knew
where I’d gone.
would drive, dog walk, divine
would these
our mothers
were it not
for sudden
bouts
of lucidness.
again
an illegal
pair
of dogs
has diagnosed
dad
with doll’s
ankle.
the movers
take the table
leave the cloth. please
love our baby
like the man
they didn’t
send.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC
You're right
We as poets are
Self-amused entity
Sane in thought
Breathe with passion
Dream circadian
With the torrent of emotions
We as poets
Look toward an open sky
Communicate with cosmos
Question lucidness
Get something from nothing
Glorify average, as special
Feel everything, closer
Spell, when have to
Stay silent, when need to
Touch, the untouched
See, the hidden
Honor: blood, sweat and tears
Revive, the beauty of life
Heal, the suffered
With the recipe of words
We as poets
Yes, by default
Go beyond norms
Forget a lot, but not what should not
Despite everything
You're right
Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 6:33 AM UTC
i. when i wake up my eyes are new again, if only for a brief second. the haze of lingering dreams makes the soft light coming from my window look like it has no edges. the remnants of the love i felt for you in my sleep whisks away into my pillows and back between the folds of my blankets. it keeps me coming back to bed, keeping me slumbering amongst the fog of feelings i no longer know.
ii. in the moments before i fall asleep, my brain boards a canoe made of fireflies and wishful thinking. the Giver of Sleep rows us both through the doorways to nightmares and archways of fantastical dreams. we drift on the currents of the dimly lit room my body lays in. when a door slams somewhere down the hall, the canoe shudders, the Giver flinches, lays his hands on the water to still its trembling. And allows me to sleep.
iii. the closest i've come to feeling like i'm flying is when my body thinks it's hurtling off a cliff before i fall asleep. the yank of lucidness tugging on the nape of my neck reminds me that for a few hours my body will come as close to dying as it ever has. my heart doesn't want to slow, my brain doesn't want to dim the currents. my synapses aren't quite prepared to go quietly.
iv. being awake has never held as much appeal to me as being asleep. you reside in my dreams, not in my arms.
v. i usually remember a lot about my dreams, but i never remember the laughter. is there ever singing laughter that the people of my imagination let loose in a burst of happiness? maybe i just never dream of things that are truly happy. maybe my mind wants a break from being pleasant. maybe it wants to be sad.
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 11:19 PM UTC