"moisturise" poems
We show the fatigue of Twelve hours
of duty, to care for those that
Cant even breath without our care..
When we leave those that we wish
could survive till our next shift.
We go to grocery stores to find
our next meal,
but shelfs stripped clean...
By those who don't need,
but horde more than there need,
for either greed or profit.
We weep,
for we are holding our hands out like Oliver!!
Sir, Madam do you have anymore,
As we weep with empty stomachs..
making do with the scraps left behind..
"Sorry not till our next delivery,
But ill be at work then..
A tear drops lonely down a cheek.
Yes I've seen eBay, or online selling sites...
They make me sick to my heart,
to think I may have to save these gluttons
on an empty stomach.
But I don't judge
I just drop a tear for those I lost the
night before.
I tried,
they tried
but this venom, sinks in fast..
I wear the scars on my face, the masks digging in,
the cracked skin that I don't have time
to moisturise as I know its been a twelve hour shift.
I only sleep a few,
my moments of peace and tranquillity woken
early...
My beeper goes off, were on call..
At least I got more than most,
I give myself a two minute stretch,
and a wake up call, then I'm in fresh gear,
sanitise my hands, and put gloves on.
I'm fearful of this virus, as many have fell like
warriors on the battle field, now breathing through
masks of life and death.
But my vow of care is strong and I shake off
this fear, and walk into the ward a warrior
of positively.
"I will care for the fallen,
I will hold a fearful hand,
never will I let anyone go.
But I'm only one in a sea of many.
If I can keep on breathing till they have strength
its a win..
Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 9:19 PM UTC
In night, day, morning and imperfect comas.
Recurring three figures of one sole meaning.
Each day, its variety of clouds casts different states of mind.
The unrhythmic, unkind and overwhelmingly melancholic.
The pleasant, warm and astonishingly beautiful.
The timing and place of its occurring, determines whether to reminisce and moisturise one's skin, or to wander through rainy forests of what-ifs, and waterlog one's skin.
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
Will
It hurt
She
Asks?
Maybe
A little...
I
Laugh
Possessing
Warm
Bees Wax
Relax.......
I'll
Strip
All the
Leaves
From
Your
Tree
Your
Lungs
Will
Receive
Air
Unfiltered
Who
Cares?
At least
You Will
Show
No
Nasal
Hair
No
Green
Grass
Will
Grow
From
Your
Concrete
Crack
Nothing
Will
Sprout
Without
Being
Ripped
Out
Lie down
Mother Nature
You won't
Hurt
Today
Wait forty eight hours
Moisturise
Keep clean
And
Forget
About the Bees
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 6:13 PM UTC
You infect my mind!
With delusional paper thin cuts; sculpting through my cerebral cortex!
Planting silent patient seeds...
That grow to sow the cosmic slides in my shadow self; blows them away.
Like cobwebs laying in water...
Saturation and dissolve!
Soon to be none existent; tethered to irrelevant findings.
Transfixed, bathing in smouldering gazes!
You move me into...
A bliss, of another kind!
Hunger filled!
Carnal bites smother into my soul; where you sleep!
In mist, with light and compassion...
You spin right through!
How do you? Chew aways through my muscle memory.
Calculate for me what is and isn't...
Set in motion access marks; trigger into my scar tissue!
Moisturise and soothe my livid deformities!
Renew for eleven...new life!
Kindly you offer!
When sky's are too stain filled with rust; alone with scepticism!
Your rain cleanses all, and over me...
To soften this old armour!
Wait for me; a place within you that I can travel.
Stand aware there!
To prize open my third eye; and reach euphoria!
Oh, so easily...you can!
In silence you creep!
Fill and exfoliate the covers of clouds; that perpetrate the view!
Come and shine through my first set of eyes...
Fragile, but still strong!
My focus surrounds your frozen form; despite the debris!
Scattered embers, unearthed from background night terrors...
Sidelines of your smile!
Hypnotise the ground I tread on; balance trades for vertigo this time.
I really I don't mind.
Glassy eyed, you slumber awake!
Inside the beautiful'est the truth lays dormant; like bitter nitroglycerine!
The collected calm notions of your movements...
So dark yet divine!
Luminous insanity for self poring; medicating my saturation.
Cleverly, can I hide in there too? Safe in the currents of you...
Seek splice and solace.
In your butchered sanctuary!
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 1:05 PM UTC