"meshes" poems
The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.
The sly reeds whisper to the night
A name-- her name-
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.
47.4k
The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.
The sly reeds whisper to the night
A name-- her name-
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.
5.9k
Well, I was tired of life; the silly folk,
The tiresome noises, all the common things
I loved once, crushed me with an iron yoke.
I longed for the cool quiet and the dark,
Under the common sod where louts and kings
Lie down, serene, unheeding, careless, stark,
Never to rise or move or feel again,
Filled with the ecstasy of being dead. . . .
I put the shining pistol to my head
And pulled the trigger hard -- I felt no pain,
No pain at all; the pistol had missed fire
I thought; then, looking at the floor, I saw
My huddled body lying there -- and awe
Swept over me. I trembled -- and looked up.
About me was -- not that, my heart's desire,
That small and dark abode of death and peace --
But all from which I sought a vain release!
The sky, the people and the staring sun
Glared at me as before. I was undone.
My last state ten times worse than was my first.
Helpless I stood, befooled, betrayed, accursed,
Fettered to Life forever, horribly;
Caught in the meshes of Eternity,
No further doors to break or bars to burst!
1.7k
What should I be but a prophet and a liar,
Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose father was a friar?
Teethed on a crucifix and cradled under water,
What should I be but the fiend’s god-daughter?
And who should be my playmates but the adder and the frog,
That was got beneath a furze-bush and born in a bog?
And what should be my singing, that was christened at an altar,
But Aves and Credos and Psalms out of the Psalter?
You will see such webs on the wet grass, maybe,
As a pixie-mother weaves for her baby,
You will find such flame at the wave’s weedy ebb
As flashes in the meshes of a mer-mother’s web,
But there comes to birth no common spawn
From the love of a priest for a leprechaun,
And you never have seen and you never will see
Such things as the things that swaddled me!
After all’s said and after all’s done,
What should I be but a harlot and a nun?
In through the bushes, on any foggy day,
My Da would come a-swishing of the drops away,
With a prayer for my death and a groan for my birth,
A-mumbling of his beads for all that he was worth.
And there sit my Ma, her knees beneath her chin,
A-looking in his face and a-drinking of it in,
And a-marking in the moss some funny little saying
That would mean just the opposite of all that he was praying!
He taught me the holy-talk of Vesper and of Matin,
He heard me my Greek and he heard me my Latin,
He blessed me and crossed me to keep my soul from evil,
And we watched him out of sight, and we conjured up the devil!
Oh, the things I haven’t seen and the things I haven’t known,
What with hedges and ditches till after I was grown,
And yanked both ways by my mother and my father,
With a “Which would you better?” and a “Which would you rather?”
With him for a sire and her for a dam,
What should I be but just what I am?
1.7k
THE ANCESTORS
the ancestors
sifted bit by bit
falling through
the tiny meshes of time
until they become
you.
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
I guess
It's because
Well maybe
It's partially
At fault
That they didn't
Fade to nothing
When I was with you
You deserve
Someone whose baggage
Meshes perfectly
With yours and
So do I
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 12:04 AM UTC
Of lavender, golden meshes--discerning
Goddess gargantua.
Lamp of fig tree and Roman chorus...waves crest
in a moonlit white as to knit the sultry
gown of your being.
Never once did you recant the definitions of love
and beauty, they stay and fever...dally the same
breath to deliver.
Here and there, wedged in towering hearts
they sway and splay forked flames.
You are signaled blatantly, and in
secret as holds the tolerance of those
you madden.
Venus...crash landing, riveted Xs cringe
and ripple in anticipation--marked and
moving, your children pass the ardent
thorns of beauty...clump, swell and
spill ****** roses.
You'll always seem uncollected, unstable--
your constitution's chasmic rift
claims...those you've landed upon.
They mouth love and beauty, wound and
bisected, their livelong day thrashes
to unify that breath...just to
sigh as if to say they see you.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
I wake to push the sunrise back,
peeling my face from dreams
reality beams as my passage.
light storms through the peace,
questions arise, flooding in.
mourning commences routinely
as we find ourselves in the rapids.
white rocks, rocks that look as if they might explode.
rocks of your eyes, as they change color.
trees as your arms, with mountains for scars.
raw skies that break
and bellow
as they laugh with us.
leaving minds, we sift with fevered hesitation.
gently crippling for a quick **** the catch
was almost effortless as my mouth became
a staircase. as I watched everything I wanted
ascend with my assistance, I realized no more
of it was for me and there was no more I could take.
No more that I could want.
desires chants no longer engulfing this fragile figure,
transparency threaded through the thick and soon
this figure became no longer lace, no longer tender.
this figure molds, meshes with the recess atmosphere
and dissipates into structures too bold for distinction.
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 11:09 AM UTC
What if we hadn't tried when we were 14
What if we hadn't given in to the flow of our generation
Maybe we would still be whole
Unbroken
Fearless
We had so much to lose
We didn't see we only had a little to take
We part ways,
Then find each other,
I almost believed it was real.
I almost believed it was fate.
But,
Seeing how you are now
With her
Does something to my heart.
It makes me feel as though what we had wasn't important
Nothing more than a flicker of light
It made me feel
Like I'm somebody
That is easily forgotten.
But from time to time, in my mind, I put you and I together
And all I see are explosions
Explosions
Explosions of which are not caused my fireworks
Then
Nothingness
Its what we've been doing.
Come back
Leave
Over and over.
We let our hearts explode
Until
We lose pieces of us
And eventually
Lose ourselves.
My Darling,
My insanity is not one you can withstand.
That is why you love her.
But not because she's normal,
But because her insanity meshes well with yours.
And truly, my dearest,
I am glad you found a hand to place your heart in.
Forever,
and Always,
My dear,
I will take you with me.
I will always remember you.
And everything we've been through and learned from each other—
We can't always get it right the first time.
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 2:13 PM UTC
Don't want to hide long
Lake flow of love in silence
Ensnare tears in petals missed
Let all writhing
Because i'm still here in my silence
The sky tells
On the way of events
Among the meshes of time
The trail is also becoming obsolete story implied
Made me choose to remain silent
Stranded on Overlay story
Don't you ever lie to me
You have taken away the night - My night
Thieves of my conscience..!
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
You.
You've undone,
me.
Each
thread
snipped.
carefully and thoroughly-
not to miss a single
one.
They don't make them
like this,
anymore.
They patch with glue,
and nothing really combines-
really meshes-
anymore.
They squeeze tightly
to what they hold
but
they hold
nothing
compared to these old threads
bound
stitch by stitch
through canvassed paper.
Etched into my heart
woven
into my hips,
they don't make them
like
this
anymore-
they patch with glue and print
on thin
flimsy
sheets
of shredded tress immune
to routine they know so well-
Slice
Shred
Print.
In my days,
it was woven,
it was thick canvas paper that
paint couldn't bleed through.
It was woven into the spine,
threads of teeth
stitch by stitch-
Behold,
somehow-
you managed so easily
to
un
do
me.
Unbound
and with each
breath
another thread
slithers
loose
and
inhales, then hums
and settles.
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 8:25 PM UTC
Lapping Seas, Warming Sands
Warm sand meshes around my feet
as I walk forward and take a seat.
Baby blues glance forward at the sight:
at the yellow orb and its sorrowful flight.
Half-moon in shape, it starts to set
Where water and sea have forever met.
Pink, orange, and yellow reflect the sky
As I feel your warmth and hear you sigh.
Behind us lies the lurking dark,
But it has not yet left its mark.
For the teal of the ocean is like a spell
And under it I have fortunately fell.
Created here is the perfect evening
Love by my side, love never-ending.
With you tonight is where I belong,
On the sand, in your arms, this is my song.
DarkNightNess (C)olleen
May 28, 2011
May 28, 2011 at 7:17 PM UTC
Piano keys are dreams that illude me.
The sounds are so sensual, clacks that mock the gentle twinge of a note.
Like guitar strings plucked just so, sound as the weeping of stars.
Light that seems to melt away from its whole leaving a void.
I feel as though the world has become so much easier to hear.
The silence from indoors is a perpetual energy that feeds us.
Keeps us safe.
Yet the ecstasy of light on a dark night seems to call to us.
The blur of a grey black in the night sky that meshes so well with street lights.
The winter calls clarity to our eyes,
and the world seems to stand still while snowflakes move past our frozen bodies.
And each flake catches the bouncing particulates of a glimmer, making the air crisp.
Like the sound of ivory tickling the soft ridges of oxygen in our ears.
Commingling with the illusion of light behind our eyes.
And the foot prints in the snow,
foot prints searching for the morning glances of a sunrise from dew drops that are months away. They seem so lost.
As lost as unwritten notes to a beautiful mind.
As lost as a concerto performed in an empty hall.
-P.S.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 10:16 AM UTC
My love for you is beyond these limits,
beyond the reach of earth, space and heaven
I've stitched your dreams with velvet
And built your hope with cashmere
My life was an empty canvas, love,
I've filled it with you flawless face
Your crystal eyes, concealing broken emotions
And your eyelashes bowing down, hiding your eyes
Your eyes are the most beautiful I've ever seen
So vulnerable, they take my breath away
And with every single glance,
they throw me a little deeper in love
And every time tears stream down your little face,
my fragile frame shatters to fragments
And an agony rips through my veins
and rushes through my bloodstream
You destroy me, love,
with every touch and every look
With every smile and every word
Your beauty is too much for my eyes to hold
But still I dare to look up
as my irises begin to crack
You're so heartbreakingly beautiful,
It makes me cry and laugh at the same time
Your hair is spun with gold and crimson,
It's the shade of my heart bleeding for your love
And your hands made of porcelain
And your lips are meshes of honey
I swear, I'll carry you over the seas
And take you through the dark clouds
Love, I promise to keep my arms around you
Until you stop breaking and shattering
I love you but these three little words
does not contain the intensity of my feelings
for just I love you isn't enough
I'd rather drown, smile and say,
Love, I'll give my life for one moment with you
And every breath of mine for just one smile of yours.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
An autonomous program written for all,
The margin of error is rather quite small.
A day to day basis I go through my week,
Without any error it's bound to repeat.
The automatic smile when passing a stranger
Believe it or not the code is in danger.
A fault in the code that lies in my brain,
At first I feel normal but then feel insane.
The code is so broken that nothing seems real,
How could it be when this is all I feel?
Day in day out a feeling of nothingness,
Most mark it off as me being a pessimist.
It all meshes together and all feels the same,
All I want is to get out of this sick, twisted game.
No changes in schedule is really quite boring,
But the thought of change is super abhorring.
I look at my friends and know I should care,
But in the end my mind is just bare.
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 7:26 PM UTC
It’s only thing that brings me back to my truest self,
the self that only the wild air , trees and inhabitants know
Its spirit meshes with mine and I am whole.
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 8:16 AM UTC
lifes in meshes with inherent leashes
liars in messes riveted with stresses in tresses
hearts full of Prosecco and bile from blinded Unesco
Looking for selves on shelves dancing with pansies in panzers
make-believers left-overs waging war in peace and pieces in ******
drenched in lives unknown and wares unearned in mires renowned
Owning miseries internal and pushing external for redress maternal
empty dreamers on steamers loving sad idlers with no water for later
eating stories without histories, crying tears with fears and no worries
Ways of their worlds, no molds for holds only emptiness for pettiness
and they race for pace to face the lace that grace an ace with no traces
citations of vacuosity of the sagacity of the mediocrity in their paucity
Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 9:48 PM UTC
death and decay
and we sink
sink
into the soil,
into mother,
deep in her as she shreds us apart,
she meshes us,
so that we may we sprout once again,
be torn once again,
***** eaten, consumed, and tossed into the dregs of the most unfathomable wastes,
we sink,
sink
into into the soil.
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 12:43 PM UTC
Journals strewn
Frantic writings
My thoughts are hewn
My mind is fighting
With memories and resolves
That I was describing
Younger versions of myself
Always complaining
Thinking that being bullet proof
Would keep them from shooting
If I could talk to her
The girl I was
Maybe shed some light and some tears
For her cause
Extract a little bit of blood
From those who manipulated her
From the bits of paper
Upon I once wrote
Words have always been a way
To communicate my joy and rage
Inside the diaries I would wage
Wars in my head
But the battles never escaped
They should have
Then now I would have a cleaner slate
To place newer memories of calmer days
Instead they live side by side
Thought I left behind my past
Instead it would just hide
Behind meshes of meat and coils in my mind
Bits of paper
Lonely words
Always written
Never heard
Trying my hardest
Not to sound absurd
In my attempts to be a normal girl
I guess old habits are the hardest to break
I continue writing of demons and angels
That never escape
Hold them back
Try to forsake
The others that live in my thoughts
Everyday
Only few outside of me
Can banish them away
Clear the settling dust of my fate
My bits of paper
My life in script
You can enter at your will
And live in safety of never being apart of it
I guess that's been my only wish
To live through words
To simply exist
Swinging my feelings from limb to limb
And always shifting regardless of whim
Rotting away underneath perfect skin
Dorian gray meets zombie land
Feasting and pleasuring on human sins
Knowing that's not who I really am
But on bits of paper
It contradicts
My good intentions
With my former riots
Never completely evil
Or wholly good
Knocked down off my feet
Where I firmly stood
Creeping with a soundless craze
They saw me smile and always misunderstood
Bits of paper
That's all I am
Past, present and future
That's all I have
Records of who I am
And who I'm not
I keep them all
In case they'll be forgotten
No treasure or wealth or object of praise
Will ever banish my words away
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
While those bewitching hands combine,
With matchless grace, the silken line,
They also weave, with gentle art,
Those stronger nets that bind the heart.
But soon all earthly things decay:
That net in time must wear away:
E’en Beauty’s silken meshes gay
No lasting hold can take:
But Beauty, Virtue, Sense, combin’d,
(And all these charms in thee are join’d)
Can throw that net upon the mind,
No human art can e’er unbind,
No human pow’r can break.
Sep 19, 2019
Sep 19, 2019 at 12:32 AM UTC
love, a chemical, love, chocolate
tresten tray deny defy, travesty trancending
******* bubbly bursting
interesting enough, a somba, met in march
making beauty, cellphone curiosities
Good times, good times, loved ones who made makers
dulce de leche, jive jive
boomering, blame, none, no no no, sake for sake, for curiosities sake, lots of that, a-floating, a wondering, a wishing
televisions pronouncing, ba ha ha ha
toot toot toot to that you old goat
love? more, chocolate, dripping, ecstasy, dreaming, delicious!!
sentiment, sappy, taffy, the kind at the boardwalk, almonds, more, talk
tales, arcades, simple sayings, sorted out, soothing, sounding, surrender, the aesthetics, why why why, are they, projected, yet shunned?
ugliness, the frailty, beauty, the majesty, why to all of these things?
Ugly the, pronounced, the, proud, accentuate the, not nakedness, the, known, the pronounced, the political, in an undertone, understatement, no no no
taken up with projects of, bie bie bie
frail, your a ghost, with your camiseta, you're something else, go ahead and be
that something else, hahaha aha haha , smoke is clearing your lungs, fascinating, when the curious blends, meshes, cleanses your soul, why why why
bid farewell to your late fresh husband, he's off goodbyeing to power, which is easier said, power fresh in hands, power of statues standing time, however, power, loved by many, simplified with sentiment, body, release, taken over with the right mix, the right.... set
power, none, other, no, non, power, pulsing, bothered, hot, no
eased up again by mix, mix mix
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
City lines illuminated by animated street lights reflect off of your skin.
Images of infant filled houses
and hospitals with new born fetal babies, juxtaposed fatal mothers,
emit off your body
in black and white stop motion,
slicked by this canvas of fluid blanket
And you, victim of lifelessness
lie cold and waterlogged
inhaling liquid, the new source of oxygen,
your eyes fogged and inverted submissively.
What was sung to sleep by hymnal chants
of incredulous mourning moans now lies
Dead
on a forgetful Sunday Evening.
The street lights give no respect
as they ponderously encroach,
Leaning in to hear your fleeting birdsong.
These lamp poles, tender and limber,
flex to form prayer circles, forgetting their rightful footings.
And with each inch bound tighter,
the circle emulates a power emitted through photonic light beams
bending irresponsibly to get closer to truth.
They then see it, and so does woman
Stopping by this wooded mausoleum.
She stands with inquisitive mittens, palms open and receiving.
Flecks of skin lift off your sinking vessel as what was you leaves into better places.
They drift, forming a clouded colony
crawling up webbing left to lead them correctly.
Each inch spreads more purity,
each meter strengthens recent weaknesses.
Woman notices a cloud gather above you,
and each particle refracts the whole galaxy with increasing detail and accuracy.
As your body turns to skeletal structure
you seep faster into the silt-heavy waters below,
your bones creating playgrounds and Eiffel Towers, hospital white in hue,
so clean it hurts.
The cloud moistens with rain,
it becomes heavy and starts to drift,
rocking,
in futile attempt to birth again.
And each fleck takes woman.
She spreads eagle and takes flight.
Toes lift individually and with lessened pressure,
she stretches each appendage as your flesh meshes with woman’s in unconventional ways,
every crevice and crack blanketed by you, what was.
The street lights pulsate as they observe in amazement
your transformation.
All is forgiven while the lamps induct you into purity
and absolve woman for witnessing this connection to God.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
Entombed amidst her secret crypt,
Eclipsed beneath clumps most tranquil;
Free from meshes and muddles kept,
Her wit and sense to feed my quill.
From clamorous cares I oft escape,
Into thicket whence thoughts she thrills;
To be aroused by lush landscape,
From whence within my fount she fills.
Amidst her ***** whence thoughts bloom,
Lies fantasia beyond this realm;
From cryptic and grotesque and gloom,
To glad ardor from engrossed helm.
From her caress my ink I spill,
Like streams and dreams as rivers flow;
To stanzas strummed from heaven's hill...
That hearth and home whence spirits glow.
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 4:07 AM UTC
The facts that we even
Cross paths,
Our eyes lock
And before you can
Blink—
He's in my arms.
Yearning,
Learning,
Forever unknowing.
How these paths,
Interlock tighter
Than your hand
Wrapped around
Mine,
Like it's rooted there.
You bend,
I tare,
This heart beats
To the same
As yours.
Like the river flows,
The knowledge grows,
And so forth
In many lives,
I cherish the
Kisses,
And how he misses
Me when I'm gone.
How he meshes
Kindness,
Ruling out his flaws.
Dangling
Like prey;
This game he loves
To play,
Has met its defeat.
Grounded,
Profound truth,
My feet have never
Felt more stable.
Standing firm,
Burly,
And tall,
I don't need a
Man that repeats
Trickery at best,
These lessons
I've dealt with
Come with a price,
And you've been
Lacking luster
Since the day
You arrived.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 3:17 AM UTC