"mayhaps" poems
( this poem can be read like its feather shape or horizontally to and fro )
I
go
to fly so that I believe
so light above
with treads its plumes
as wispy as the so unruly shed
feathers I collect along an angel feathered
path cloven with grass and mused mayhaps
autumn starts early for those angels
Aug 19, 2011
Aug 19, 2011 at 8:55 PM UTC
From all I've done and all I've said
let them not seek to find who I've been.
An obstacle stood and transformed
my acts and way of my life.
An obstacle stood and stopped me
many a time as I was going to speak.
My most unobserved acts,
and my writitings the most covered --
thence only they will feel me.
But mayhaps it is not worth to spend
this much care and this much effort to know me.
For -- in the more perfect society --
someone else like me created
will certainly appear and freely act.
3k
And can you believe,
The horrible glee
With which his lips licked.
Dreaming-- carcass picked,
Reveling wholly.
Dismissing Holy
Enlightened beings,
Sinking in Needing.
Black black smack, alack!
I'm a crack-gack hack!
Or, mayhaps, I'm not?
Or, perhaps, just caught,
In nauseous verde waves
Of fanciful raves--
Rants all entertained--
I say makes me drained.
Baudelaire's half-baked,
Chatterton-- cracked
Morally, sorely
Standing half-poorly
But standing up still,
Avoiding the thrill
Of desert mirage,
It's poison barrage!
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 10:16 AM UTC
darling, how are you today?
i'm months into my first heartbreak
and i wonder if you're the same.
mayhaps our souls haven't crossed yet
and your eyes haven't experienced
the first touch of color
if we look at each other,
or how the red string of fate
grows shorter and shorter
as we wade into a thousand years
brought about by
our constant reincarnations.
i would wait a hundred lifetimes,
swim through a sea of heartbreaks
(like now),
go through a life where
you don't exist,
or you drive a knife to my chest,
if it means there exists such a thing—
where there is even just a single timeline
where i get to touch your lips with my fingers
and hold you in my arms as you sleep soundly,
as our hearts beat closer and closer.
Feb 12, 2020
Feb 12, 2020 at 6:52 AM UTC
The first time a pigeon lands on your head you WILL have conflicting feelings. These consist of, "this is a magical experience" and "please don't **** on me".
But if you stay calm, interested, determined, and lucky you may build a beautiful relationship.
Mayhaps on the chance, you did get pooped on. A torturous smear on your shirt is a valuable resource to a 17th-century European farmer. It is up to you decide if you want to be that farmer.
And lastly, if two parties of the columbiform do agree to the terms and conditions, they can form a lasting relationship.
That is what I hope to have done with you, my pigeon.
Yours Truly,
~Squab
Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
Ah, to be a little frog.
Allow me to hide amongst 'your' belongings.
Under the cushions of your swing set, upon your screen door, mayhaps even in your outside rainboots.
You may shoo me away at once, if you must. I will be back.
Ah, to be a little frog.
I think i shall hop away now.
Toodaloo.
Until next time.
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 3:08 PM UTC
Dogfish thunderheads whisper in Seagrove skies
after a dinner of Shiraz and shrimp with peppercorn skids
that filled me warm and these clouds echoing
in the water seem dark without the children
and their crab lights searching the shores
the foam crests roar upon day burnt toes
and I sit and I watch and I write
these words in a strained attempt to capture
Dads margarita redness and Moms new haven beauty.
Sister and I observe on this, mayhaps last trip
as a family lacking a bay, but we are full joyed:
we are contented in sandy sheets.
We are one, for this week, whole
and it is good.
Lord, it is good.
On Jordan's stormy banks we stand
Through the love of God our savior all will be well.
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
There is form Here
Form, chance, life
Might I leave it for the after?
Might I trade for the steady?
Shall I walk the roads of eternity,
Forever calm in memory?
Shall I make myself malleable,
Finitely changing upon the whistle of whim?
Mayhaps I should linger Here
And feel the dread of existentialism
And wonder forever more.
Mayhaps I should search for an answer
Beyond the void of eternity
Beyond the vertigo of life.
And wonder I will as I wander
Into the future ever yonder
Searching for meaning
Reaching for sense
And may I find knowledge
That I might lay it to rest Here
Where we have all begun
Where we might all end.
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
****** *******
Verily, thou art.
If thine own charms woulds't not deliquesce my pow'rs,
mayhaps my quill
woulds't obey my
commands...
Yet ~ evermore ~ am I slave
to thy smirks
and provocations
...both vexations to me.
I turn 'round,
but come back
time again.
(Provoking my ire.)
Thou
knave.
Rogue.
****** *******
Thou've been a naughty swain.
Get thee to my rooms.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
A Terran, a Musician, and a Human walk into a bar and begin to converse in their unique animated fashions. The Terran told colorful, heavily gestured stories of just how vast, vivid, and desolate, the world can be with adventurous direction and a little bit of luck. The Musician listened intently and shared personal records of revolving themes and repetitive transcendence. For Musician, it is simply a twist of perspective. Then followed a volley of indiscriminate compliments between Human and Terran as Musician earned a few donations of an open microphone on this Friday afternoon. When Musician returned with concerns of quality and substance, the enlightened friends had both agreed that the rehearsal was finely tuned, impeccable, even.
Shy and humming, Human was slightly disconcerting to their boisterous Terran and had to ask about those interests and talents that had not been discussed yet. Human's eyes froze in small expansion though Musician concurred, compliments are fine but withholding one's self is an insult and a crime to all three beings in such a warmed gathering. Human began with a facile face, then addled, as if a place to start had muddied underneath solid progressive counterparts. At last, resolve returned with a solution to try at the open microphone first, mayhaps that would clear the meek performer's mind. The invoked spirit of clarity overflowed beyond the stage as a silver silence engulfed the barroom. Human's history was bursting of sky sharing resonant respiration once the song was sung from a place more real than truth.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
Were I to wander, would I find a place fonder? Cross hill and dale, mountains, rivers and wood.
Discover those things long since forgotten, years ago. Reclaiming the joy, lamenting the woes.
Times past, lingering still in the faint glimmer of a remnant will...Barely a glowing ember of hope.
Prayer, the strength to gently fan a frail flickering flame, amid the ever daunting doubt.
Tasked beyond belief, Faith, a must beneath the well wallowed grief and regret. To carry on, would it be worth it? To draw the next breath?
How can you know? Is this how we grow? To leave them behind...to explore a completely different realm.
To leave them a question unanswered in their minds. Is cruelty a two-way street? Am I really ready to admit defeat?
Is it time to cash in my chips? Make the last fatal bet? Mayhaps, the future could be a winner yet?
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 8:31 PM UTC
you are tethered here now
by just a few threads
gossamer thin
that flex and strain with
each laboured breathe
soon the last of them
will fray and break
and you will be free
to float away
to see and enjoy
new vistas
to be
unencumbered
by that, that drew
you down into the dark
then untethered
you will fly to the heavens
like a bird, small against
the blue, blue sky
or perhaps more akin
to a dandelion seed
be taken by a gust of wind
to a new environ
mayhaps, a cliff top
by a shining blue sea
and there to take seed
and grow again and again
whilst the sea kisses the sand
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
How just is justice?
little children are orphaned
Mothers lose their little ones
a jury is asked to give verdict.
Prove
beyond reasonable doubt.
Not even a hint of uncertainty.
An aggressive defense,
the guilty made a victim ;
Framing, hearsay, lies.
the snake will stoop so low
Perjury without a fear.
Taking away mercy.
Laughing at the easy win
Mocking the legal system.
At most ten years,
mayhaps less for good
Behavior, a pat on the back.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 2:44 AM UTC
Cakes Cookies Croissant
apple fritters
pie
so many choices
frosted or not
mayhaps sprinkles
ahh the calorie laden
sons of *******
Each bite
another nail
in your double wide coffin
accursed gods
wheat thins for everyone.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 9:34 PM UTC
Interestingly enough
(I miss you)
Mayhaps love
Is not the
Solution to all the problems in the world but the,
Specific cause, creating a problematic
(I miss you)
Yearning of the soul that creates issues as dark as
Obsidian, or could it be that love will never be
Understood
I miss you
Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 3:27 PM UTC
barely it was swaying terrifically in cotton wind of sharp niggling wafers that flummox specially the growling infant sea, this lake, where i am by and satting with my soft particular femme who's metal slithers from her very roundest nostrils glinting rather unobtrusive and stubbornly silver. and jousting by in meager dollops college children blatantly. a basic scent of nonsense huddles on the 2's and 3's (or mayhaps more) they slant upon the dappled lazy soil reticent and uncouthly tread upon with flats little souls. their heads are fat with gullible churning knowledge. they farted from the dusted books. that stately chord of mugging music. that lays in bricks and mortared sighs. on the hillest of tops over looking the cordial bay.
Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 12:33 PM UTC
It's cloudy, the ***** is hiding up there,
In her own starry grave, but I know
She's watching me as she has thousands before
And she'll die eons before we see her light go out,
I will never live to that day, though she'll watch me still
I wonder if she's seen my children thrive, watched them age?
In a way I never will, and she's laughing, I know, at time
At my frail mind addled by drug and drink
Will she coddle them? Will she coddle this love I hold?
Will she fight for or against me? Beg me to let go?
If she is not a guardian, she's a poor excuse for an enemy.
And I will always be, eyeing her
Cursing her stars while ever reaching towards them
Mayhaps a symbol of a man I lost. May be the throne I aspire to own
Across the sky from my own Orion,
Carved into my skin
Driving me home.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 4:25 AM UTC
Heat waves and the summer is tangible.
Lazy days
Lazy guitar
Lazy daisy.
You are a daisy,
not mine,
not anyone's.
You belong to sappy heat,
you belong to the Yuba River.
And perhaps we intersect for a reason.
Perhaps our paths cross on a cosmic scale.
And perhaps not.
Laying in the sun,
not a worry in the area,
still, you never met a cooler ***
And the heat is tangible,
naturally so are your fingers.
You hands were sticky with sweat
and I really didn't mind, I mean it.
I would never lie,
not to you,
not to my mother,
not to god.
Well, mayhaps I would lie to god.
After all, the heat is tangible.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
arrowing words,
whispering lips,
shotgun words,
freudian slips,
words as weapons.
cutting delicate hearts.
****** syllables.
bruising brains.
what power we wield,
not ever knowing,
the cost.
less often gain,
more often at great cost.
but, for the moment
of retention,
between,
careless thinking
and hurtful speakings,
push the pause.
because,
the words that have slain.
mayhaps be the ones lodged
within your brain.
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
-Slightly sadistic 17-year-old girl seeks suitable mate
Re: matters of dystopic fantasties
- A cannibalistic companion, mayhaps
to soothe lingering curiosities held captive by the bright red and steady rhythm of dripping blood
Disclaimer: this advertisement (pronounced ad-vur-tiz-ment) is not a cry for help - but next week's definitely will be
"Hi, I'm not usually like this, I haven't really done this sort of thing before, but..."
thinking to self I would like to carefully extract your organs and construct a small fortress out of them. I would like to staple your mouth to my mouth. I would-
"Oh, what? No, I didn't say anything."
- I'm imagining you as more of a shadow, all tangible beings seem bleak to me - but could you still hold my hand???
"Yes, it's lovely outside. Beautiful weather."
- But when we venture outside its proven that our eyes are much too sensitive for the light and inside beckons as much cooler and safer, inside of me is dangerous - and inside of you is an inferno
(Please set me on fire)
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
it's all
up in my head
all these disparate threads
all these under the bedclothes
secrets
all these don't mean to be
but am what i am moments
all stuffed away in stacked suitcases
braced by not sure what you ,mean faces
all those sacred and scared places
within this wearied, wary and weirdly warped soul
all the tattered scraps, the you are here, maps
the body slaps, the landings without *****
the god i need a nap snaps
all stacked racked and filed under
memories:
vivid, hazy, pleasant,pissant, piquant,
crazy, tearful, fearful, beerfull
and happy, sad glad mad,
**** why did i follow that there fad
bad...badass
fragile as glass
pain in the proverbial...
ask no questions ....
tell no lies
time flies....
all there bats in the belfry
cats in there pj's
no where, mayhaps be free
listening to internal dj's
dancing til dizzy
drinking slightly fizzy
alcohol.... misty tizzies,
getting bizzies...
all there, in a mixed up soup
smiling faces, put through paces
thoughtful moments, all the components
to make a life....to make a life
it's all up in my head.........
roosting
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC
Here's the thing, and I get it, right?
The stigma behind allowing my child to meet those
Whom I'm seeing.
But truthfully,
I've never fully understood why
There is an insistence on judgment
With how I choose to raise
My own seedling
And furthermore why invest
Time into something that
Doesn't vibe, with your mom-life
Why hide?
I want her to see, what love is
What it means to give
What it means to hurt
And mayhaps
It's not fair to expose
Her to the truths of the human experience
I haven't shown her anything
I wouldn't have wanted myself
To see from her eyes
I shelter the parts that are dear
Children should be just that
While they are, after everything is said
And I've witnessed enough for both of us
In my own time
But to show her that brand of happiness
That comes from something maybe
Her father never might be able
To access.
That takes true courage.
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 1:13 AM UTC
I want to write about being crushed
Like something sat down on my chest
No one will ever read this
But I have to let this out
When I am around people I am happy
Because I love them
I want them not to worry
Please don't leave me alone
I am alone now....
Rather than one heart break that will heal
I have a perpetually breaking heart
Maybe there is nothing sitting on me
Maybe my chest collapsed
Someone probably beat me to death
That would be lovely
Death by blunt object to the lungs
Baseball bat mayhaps?
Depression is a crushing thing
Devastating
Irrational
Fleeting
It comes to stay a few days or a week
Then leaves much later than intended
Please don't leave me
I don't want to be alone
This silence stifles my thoughts
The emptiness causes my tearducts to weep
At night I slumber
Wishing to be held
Maybe, there's that word again, maybe someday
If I am very lucky
This sadness that crushes will fade I know
But each and every time
It takes longer to go
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
a dream--
a nightmare:
a trip by the campfire
a castle by the bridge.
a scream
a cry
a fleetle of flies.
& mayhaps a mellow
of peace belies.
if nightmares,
if dreams,
could thus divine--
if could remove i
a snake from my eye--
i still believe.
i still cannot lie.
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 2:14 PM UTC