"musics" poems
1, for the slumber that tumbles us round,
2, for the remedy, the musics bold sound.
3, for the tree that became your canoe
& 4 for the rain, it's ambiguous blue.
5, to escape, to a world we contrive,
6 for the tricks that I played to survive.
7, because heaven, is supposedly on earth,
& 8 for my mother, and her unknown worth.
9 for the failures, the faults & mistakes,
10 for the fears that keep us awake.
11, for my father, consoles me each night, whispers advice crystal clear, filled with insight- words on courage & kindness, love & delight.
12- when you wake but it's already night.
13 forever, with strength glory and might,
14 with wisdom, discretion, insight-
both numbers together sizing up every fight.
15, for my little sister, and all her turmoil,
15, for her spirit, the last one to spoil,
she and the world but water and oil,
15 for her soul, and like the mighty cobra it's coil,
deadly & graceful defends its home soil.
16 for the evil- the wicked & cruel, the endless hate they spin into fuel.
17, for reason, justice & art,
and all the other virtues life etched on my heart,
18, to redeem, to admit your mistake, to truly move on then perhaps to retake.
19 for that shame, always the same, so familiar it almost comforts my brain. 19, for the suffering, agony & betrayal.
19 true stories retold as mere tales- how they surpass logic and induce other's fails.
20. For my years. For the moment, for now. For to the past I salute, and to the future I bow; All with the hope that next year I'll know how
to do what everyone else can.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 1:32 PM UTC
heavy traffic
so we stash ourselves in the publix parking lot
and watch the flashes of the departing thunderstorm
she lays out on the buicks hood in a bikini top
a bead of sweat kisses her bellybutton
her thick dreadlocks spread like ropes
i pick one up and stick it in her ear
shes not happy with that
afternoon is all sunshine and watered down sodas
isles of plastic goodies and elevator musics
the old woman pushing her empty cart while dragging a bag
she goes to get her nails done
i push pebbles into parking lot puddles
and watch the sky drift in the reflection
she is half my age
she sticks her tongue in my ear
i dont mind
there are palm trees and lizzards everywhere
and pebbles in puddles
im a pebble and shes my puddle
shes all wet
im hard
we laugh in the forever summer sunshine
we dance in the parking lot puddles
of the fiveashes publix lot
and daydream the stars above
this is no ordinary love
this is passion's fire in the hearts eyes
shes my jezebel
im her poet
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
Nodding, nodding 'pon thy stem,
Thou bloom o' morn; nodding, nodding
To the bees, asearch o' honey's sweet.
Wilt thou to droop, and wilt the dance o' thee
To vanish with the going o' the day?
Hath the tearing o' the air o' thy sharped thorn
Sent musics up unto the bright,
Or doth thy dance to mean anaught
Save breeze-kiss 'pon thy bloom?
Hath yonder songster harked to thee,
And doth he sing thy love? Or hath he tuned
His song of world's wailing o' the day?
Doth mom shew thee naught save thy garden's wall,
That shutteth thee away, a treasure o' thy day?
Doth yonder hum then spell anaught,
Save whirring o' the wing that hovereth
O'er thy bud to sup the sweet?
Ah, garden's deep, afulled o' fairie's word,
And creeped o’er with winged mites, where but
The raindrop's patter telleth thee His love—
Doth all this vanish then, at closing o' the day?
Anay. For He hath made a one who seeketh here,
And storeth drops, and song, and hum, and sweets,
And of these weaveth garland for the earth.
From off his lute doth drip the day of Him!
3.4k
Drip
Drop
D
O
W
N
On the other side|I look out and frown
of a car window. |theres a helpless
|pout on my face
Piddle, paddle P O P!
Kids fiddle in the back seat
When will this murky day stop?
Never I assume, so I sat back and listened to the musics beat.
The world is surrounded by a cloud
Diamond rain droplets fall politely
While making noise ever so loud
If this storm would just move over slightly.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
as the sky closed daylight away
her magic box came out
a few loose threads soon wound themselves
into carriages fleet of foot on the forever road
delivering love and quick boys with
with stout hearts and steel eyed resolve
a few loose potions spilled and away flew mysterious birds
loosed upon the bright eyed world
free to fly high among soft clouds
a few magical words spilled out too
and thats when i found you
you were complete from the very beginning
you danced delicately along the sweet musics
and then you smiled at me
knew i was yours didn't you...you weren't wrong
now look at us
an enchantress made us in some long ago
to be here together
made for eachother with loves thread
made with passions potion's
for eachother forever
fly away with me now
lover sweet lover
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
Of course I'm okay.
Fine actually,
I love metal music
What ****** me off
is the notion that because the musics loud
and the lyrics are different
something must be wrong
Metal music is a family.
its riff laden roots are dug deep into the roots of my family tree
when I crossed that muddy bank I brought all of me I could.
Except,
I forgot my family.
I couldn't bring them through the mud.
I couldn't bring them desert mountain air
So when I miss them just a little too much,
You can bet I'm gonna put on
Slayer or Megadeth
to drown out the pain of an empty house
That heavy emotion
resonates deep in my chest and it fills my lungs
drowning out the words I cannot say.
Words like I love you,
Words like I wish you were here
Words like I miss you.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC
Sometimes I put my headphones in
No music playin
Just to muffle out the background noise
Of all they're sayin ,
all the empty conversation
I'm secretly sat here craving
From Better days when
This paranoia wasn't constantly
Invading my brain and
I could entertain it
Sit here without fear
Cause I was going somewhere
With people I could call friends
Without questioning motivations
Unquestioning motivation
Faltered
Now sleign , altered
And warped by blame
checked into the Awk-ward
I wait in urgency
hoping This was no accident
And I'll imerge and see
The bigger picture
Fat-e
But for now I shrink
Violently
Weight droppin off of me
still feelin heavy
Propped up on this bus seat
Weighing up whether
I should miss my stop
Cause I'm not sat near the bell
And God forbid I ask someone for help
Cause then they'd have to look at me
But don't look at me,
Don't you dare look at me!
I can't face you today
I can't even face me
That's why I don't take a window seat
And you have to begrudgingly
Shimmy past me to take yours
Or walk past to the back
Silently cursing me
I wish you'd sing instead
I've got no music playin
Clear my head
lend an Ear-nestle next to me
Did I not earn your earnesty?
If I've got your back
Won't you back me?
Or will I turn round
Reach out
Only to find your shadow stretchin
Out of reach
Like a weary soul-dier
you take your leave...
I try to shake mine off
Anxietree
Break some branches,
Tryin to get free
Oh-live!
They Silently scream
But I'm struggling
To even make it off my seat
Go live
In three
But I can no longer perform
Go on without me
Forget me
Only thing on the way up
Is mum's spaghetti!
Need some Bob Marley
Get up, stand up
But my legs won't let me!
Musics off
So it's down to me
Get up, stand up
Used to be so easy
Get up stand up
Your bus stop is here
No music playin in my ear
But right now I could do
With a mellowdy
Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 11:01 AM UTC
Fifty years ago this week
Sgt. Pepper he began to speak
Hidden deep just like a motley fool
Inside four boys from Liverpool
It took four lads as inspiration
to bring hope to a crying nation
After November's assassination
They grabbed us...we held on
John, Paul, George and Ringo
on Ed's Sunday Show
We sat back and watched them go
They grabbed us...we held on
They came and held the hand
Of a still in mourning land
A little skiffle band
They grabbed us...we held on
We were brought back from the dark side
We were on a rock and roll ride
With four young lads from Mersey Side
They grabbed us...we held on
They grabbed our hearts and souls
They expanded musics goals
They all had different roles
they grabbed us...we held on
In times...things were changing
The band was re-arranging
No more tours were staging
They grabbed us...we held on
Soon, they all went on their way
McCartney sang "Another Day"
John, he had a lot to say
George and Ringo...just played on
John was shot at decades start
It shocked the world and broke apart
Those who held him in our heart
The Beatles were no more
George died too, all things must pass
He always had a silent class
The parts aren't greater than the mass
The Beatles were no more
Is there anyone out in the land
Who will come and take us by the hand
I hope that you will understand
They grabbed us...we held on
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
Tall tales of Death and misfortune
Appalachian nightmares of pearly rune
When the musics over and all is out of tune
Be sure to check out of the hotel
Before the clock strikes noon
Wear your plastic earrings and your shiny silk
Be careful when you open the fridge not to spill your milk
A heart shape tattoo in a burning building rises
No lover ever likes to see the other in ****** surprises
Touch the crystal fountain, but let not your hand waver
Horse tracks are aflame and no angel gives a favor
Green jade rests under clear rushing river savor
A father loses a son to a shot transformed to fever
After the vigils we cremated the afternoon in hand held pairs
The mourners pushed their thoughts out their minds and stared
Even the mountains and the trees and the wind made no sound - they did not dare
At peace a foreign thing for a family and friends who did so care
In time we are hurtling toward the end of life
Either to cease or to once again begin
All these theories of holy faith and sin
Falls to the wayside when a brother loses his kin
I give my thanks for the life that I feel around me
In my pores, my hair, my toes, my throat and eyes
Money, fame, power - these are material prizes
A friendship of love, respect, and trust is what binds me
We walk the trail
We read the signs
The road splits
There isn't much time
Do not fear to go alone
There will be others
Along this beaten road
Do not fear to venture forth
Into the foggy unknown
For all that will be sewn
Has been sewn before
You will always be you
Whoever that may be
Turn the coin,
The sapphire,
Mysteries laughter.
You will not be alone
Hear your own hearts tone
There will be many things
You'll wish to atone
Before you put down the phone
Head South, East,
North, West
You will know what is best
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 11:30 AM UTC
I ,
yes I the traveller have long seeked the moon ,
the stars and the sun ,
often they have slipped my gaze ,
now only a blanket covers my eyes ( blinded by the sun )
Have you met the story teller of the great ‘ I am ‘ ?
of his tales should I tremble ,
in his halls the lost do not seek ,
the sick and poor enter his halls with praise .
For even this Gods patience will one day like sand fall from his blood stained hands onto beaches castles were built .
Now begone with you for even I must sleep ,
and find comforts no man should wish .
For the monsters of the deep have found me ,
Lust ,pride , bitterness and fear .
Look my jailer comes with chains you can hear that drag down the passage on this dark satanic night .
Sage if you see him tell him what might have been ,
and sorrows only purpose is love .
Are you still there ?
Dam what’s wrong with my eyes ?
I used to visit the fairground ,
Preachers like Wolves used to say ‘ come this way ‘
‘ come that for a shilling , for a crown ‘.
The musics stopped ,
I can’t hear the music and what of the great hall ?
The story teller I must find on this blessed night .
Now a chain mail of Norman men rise in my sea of despair ,
they like skeleton snakes rattle like memories in my head .
Surrender or capture the light ?
Holy Spirit my demons confront me and darken my night ,
for this must end in heaven or hell I bid it the light .
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 1:42 PM UTC
Off lone island bay,
Outlander waves are praying,
Curly in their white caps.
Cars and lorries are creeping
Into a village still sleeping,
Coming in from nowhere.
Stones have things to voice,
There are stars of rock fish
Deep in bays with the moon.
Beyond night dream are lochs,
Darks and colds of longings,
Mountains old as confusion.
Birds chime their mouth musics,
Churlishly sent over moorlands,
All questions ring unanswered.
On broke beaches are notions
Of days strung to faraways
And sands bleached ancestral.
Off lone island bay,
Simple comings, waves, goings,
After sly moon, sun has its say.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 1:37 PM UTC
You called yourself a man, swinging on the lion with your frostbitten breath
But I anulled what you said, when I saw that the lion was but a mule, and the frostbite just the smoke from your cigarette
You said you hunted demons in the chasm going down, hunted demons from Hell in the chasm going down
But I saw you selling her things in the pawn shop down on East
Are the demons merely what her illness represents to you?
You whispered in my head that you could save me from this ****** bath
And take away the faucet that I want
But it’s coming back, another promise that you broke
Are those ashes of surprise blanketing the cancer that you smoke?
Remove your shoes at the door, leave her eulogy lying on the dusty kitchen floor
Go ahead and board the escalator; take your musics with you
You are not my savior, not the bargain that I asked for
Just a martyr for whatever cause you decide to **** today
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 10:46 PM UTC
Headphone to head
Music to Soul
Fills me up with a surge of compelling sensation
Musics a museum of emotion
A colosseum of expression
Taken back by its beauty,
It's a gallery of a never ending selection
Used to suppress the oppression
To repair the ones that can't bare
Music is a medicine that doesn't need to be prescribed
Side effects may cause healed hearts and better judgement
Music is fabulous
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
the hand that rubs my body down
is soft: softly veined &
of a powder-white translucence; transcribed
from dover chalks to run down my
chest, backs of my thighs.
the hand that rubs my body down
curves in sweet musics 'round my soul;
the shrill but beaut'ous rasp of skin
on skin
-- of fingertips tracing strange poetry
along my spine.
the hand that rubs my body down
holds in its palm a sacred oil;
anointing me at midnight hour. muted
bewitchments; burns the candle
down to a nub.
the hand that rubs my body down
calls for christ in attics of sunday
afternoon ... crosses its fingers in
spiteful fits
of piousness.
the hand that rubs my body down
takes the shape of golden scarab;
sets aflame my eyes of beaming azure &
finds in me a willing servant.
the hand that rubs my body down
wakes me at dawn, partnered
with an extension of pinpointed
warmth: the touch of her breath upon my cheek.
Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 7:41 PM UTC
Each rooms a little dimmer now,
each sky a bit more grey.
The sun shines not as brightly,
there's less laughter in each day.
The hours seem somehow longer
with each minute comes the pain
If I could have just one more day with you
to see your face again…
Into this world you brought me
taught me right from wrong
Your laughter was my music
your love, that musics song
I assumed you'd always be there
to share my joy and ease my pain
its hard to know I'll never
see you or hear your voice again
The sunshine of my every day
has now been replaced by cloud
but I know that you're still up there Mum
I'll do my best to do you proud
Jul 2, 2011
Jul 2, 2011 at 7:11 AM UTC
When a baby is born
When a baby came to into the world
When they came into existence in the true world
They came with joyous sound
Yes people say they cry
Thats a cry of joy
They came out singing for joy
They came out with different tones and musics
The lyrics of there songs is unexplainable
They music only defines happy moment
They sing and dont warry
They propagate and catalyses the happiness of there parents
The only true definition of the music is happiness
Oh the joy of a baby
As they are born
They dont know pain
They dont know sorrow
They dont know deciet
They dont keep malice for people
They had no enemies
They accept there parents for who they are
They dont care if they are rich or not
Tall or short
Black r white
Blind or not
Deaf or dumb
They came out with total acceptance
They are true definition of been innocent
All they know is sing for joy
All they know is smile
All they know is shout of joy
All they know is play
All they know is that the world meant happiness
They dont have any problems
But they are solution to a problem
They solve problem of barreness
They restore joy and happiness to there parents
They dont hate
Rather they love
They dont discriminate
Rather they accommodate
They dont course
Reather they bless the family
As they grow day by day
They got prettier,handsome and beautiful
As they grow
The joy of the family also grow
They sing with passion
They cry out with loud voice
They they cry out saying.....
Describing how beautiful the world is
The joy of a baby is the greatest joy ever
Sometimes i wish i could turn back the hands of time and go back being a baby
Sometimes i wish i could go back to my mothers womb and be born again
Just to enjoy the feelings of been a baby
I wish i could turn back the rotation and the revolution of the earth on its axis
Yet all this are impossible
If am given three wishes
First is to go back as a baby
Second will be going back as a baby
Third will be going back as a baby
The joy of a baby is the greatest joy ever
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 6:55 AM UTC
dance, climb me like a tree-
stump.
rip my heart with sharp teeth.
Tth-thump. squish.
pick apart my embarrassments
like you'd pick apart my bones.
like vultures would.
i get to watch my own slow death,
you get to kiss me to death. slowly.
it's all the same.
distance suddenly makes sense.
Vivisection: i'm
sporadic neurotic
erratic ****** i'm
the smaller wheel on a tricycle, so
we get to go in circles.
i'm the fungus you can adopt!
cutting myself open, i can see what
makes me "frrrrrick."
heartache hopeful, i'm walking into
what i know are traps, what i know
is sure to hurt. i tell myself out-
loud, eyes closed, "THIS is gonna
hurt."
and i'm right. and i want more.
any and every relationship is more
and more masochism. it hurts more than
it ever heals, winds and wounds and
it musics me back to melody. hold me
hold me
hold me like
the car's gear shift, you only use me
sometimes.
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 11:04 AM UTC
Both my ears
are hearing musics
with maximum volume
in this big dark room
filled with people
dancing and kissing
good thing I am
not able to hear
the sound of my heart
breaking
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
Out on the breakers,
In early morning sun
We ran, making near
The villages at dawn,
Laughing in opening
Cafés, steaming with
Our coffees and teas
And broke for beach
The windings of sea,
Breathless of midair,
Brimming with gulls
Overheads and nip,
Love token musics,
Bathed us unto light
And the golden day
Was never endings,
Until next true song,
We sang in low grass
Above the sleepy hill,
Green stones, woken
Towns, we loving so
And so young, where
Birds ringing always
In the pathways brisk
Of newfound dream,
Sailing without to us
Into the Skye touches
We blew eyes of tear
Open, alive, held shy,
In whispered psalms,
Birthing into heavens,
Wings loosed, set free
Two silver cloudy birds,
We flew in old embrace,
My curved hand in yours.
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 4:28 AM UTC
Off lone island bay,
Outlander waves are praying,
Curly in their white caps.
Cars and lorries are creeping
Into a village still sleeping,
Coming in from nowhere.
Stones have things to voice,
There are stars of rock fish
Deep in bays with the moon.
Beyond night dream are lochs,
Darks and colds of longings,
Mountains old as confusion.
Birds chime their mouth musics,
Churlishly sent over moorlands,
All questions ring unanswered.
On broke beaches are notions
Of days strung to faraways
And sands bleached ancestral.
Off lone island bay,
Simple comings, waves, goings,
After sly moon, sun has its say.
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 2:27 AM UTC
her bare feet touch the cool surface
of the kitchen linoleum floor
soft sticky sound
a pattern set upon itself
with her one wrist wrapped gently round
the hard coarse thin metal
engaging its tension with a tender grasp
bending it
to the form she dreamed
carnival horse and wire wood fence
separate her from the thing she hears
she watches it with her minds eye
as she leans nervous into the encircling frame
leans with one bare foot in the dusty gravel
the broken weeds a thin line in the rocky soil
mirror her stance darkly
in miniature echoes of the intense soft lines
of her delicate face
her sorrow etched clearly in the unnatural sunlight
her voice echoes soft and trembling
a voice ethereal but rich with meanings
that she endures but
that she is alone in the false dawn
so to save herself she has bent the
convex of the lens
bent the pattern into her figure alone
and as she wraps herself in the thin metal
gauze of shallow breathing
she seeks to behold not be beheld
to mask her feelings
to leave the thoughts treading shallow waters
to leave the intense moment
in the open ocean of the linoleum
where her footprint leads to my gasping eyes
the swirls of sand with slight breeze
mask her passing
and leave little trace of her presence
but her presence remains
in this image
powerful and sublime
full of the imagery dark musics
filled with the scents of burning
this sharp clean image narrowed focus
like a shutters thick sound
in the silence of a lone fan's endless drone
which reveals a thick sadness
in the shadow slivers in her hair
in the soft line of her lips
in the casual line of her arm draped over the hoop
i sense her assuage her hot tears in the starlight
in the backwoods of a small town
from the edge of wooden bridge
her sounds echo in the kitchen
with soft edges to their thought
the archway door
its hard bricks lean into the wind strewn alley
into the the narrow gaps
between the perception of
what is and what she creates
with crafted line
with slow depth exploration
the wire wood fence hides all matter of beasts
their rabid shadows are narrowly seen underneath its edge
but their faces are only in my perception
are only in my vision of the images edge
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 2:04 AM UTC
The water pulls back and forth,
It's wild and calm and beautiful,
I want to live there,
In all of that controlled chaos,
I'm leaning against the golden rail,
The lights are shining behind me,
The musics humming in my ear,
People pass by me,
They try to interact with me,
But they don't interest me at all.
All that ocean air is wrapped in my hair,
It's curling at the ends,
I'm suffocating in the smell,
I swear it'd be the happiest death I'd ever see,
Now a hand is on the small of my back,
I don't dare turn around,
His contact against my skin
feels just like getting lost at sea,
His scent and the water,
The whisper of his voice against the wind,
My knees are buckling,
I'm on stilts a thousand feet tall,
Is my temperature really rising,
How does he do this to me?
I pull closer to the cool rail,
I use it to balance myself,
I try to seem calm and cool,
But everything I love is standing on both sides of me,
And I'm wanting to let go,
Falling rapidly into them,
But his arm goes around my waist,
I'm sinking into his hand,
I'm doomed.
He's right there staring into the water,
Leaning against the railing,
The boat has us both a little unsteady where we stand,
But I've never been so planted,
I've never loved like this,
The blue eyes I've came to know so well are shining against the waves,
Then they look at me,
For a moment I lose it,
I cling to his chest,
A chill runs up my spine,
But I'm so warm,
Right there in his arms,
I'm floating along,
I lean in to savor the sensation,
Then with the wind,
There his ghost is gone again,
I lean over the rail,
I did everything to be in his arms again,
Then into both my loves I go,
It's the happiest death I came to know,
Because without him I'm nothing,
Together we're a wave in the ocean,
The high tide on the shore,
Something wild and new,
Don't morn us,
Just look for the boat on the horizon,
That's where we'll be,
Together.
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 1:23 PM UTC
Part 2 : I started loving you with no hesitation
Our last vacation together,
The last day of summer 2017.
The tall grass bowed to us,
as we made our way across the orphic meadow
We laid down together side by side
And on this damp grass,
under the clouds,
our hearts rang forever
At that moment, I said to myself,
time, space, and beings can’t step between us
I started writing musics with our love
And even the flowers started talking to me
Love just felt so magical
Love, I said to myself inside
I glanced at you,
and you smiled at me
The words stopped at the tip of my tongue
But before I could even say it,
our lips met, and the Ice Plants bloomed.
Apr 27, 2021
Apr 27, 2021 at 5:34 PM UTC
House on fire,
House on fire,
Role me a phat one.
Tonite the house ,
Tomorow nites up in smoke.
The walls were brown
Wall paper.
Upinside here.
A white beard of smoke.
Goblin green walls,
Purple stains,
Scattered gold vains.
What a joke
We felt like smoked out
Hot patatoes,
I sat on my missing phone.
Girls gone wild,
Coconut musics third encore.
Remember what you said.
I said sometimes say the truest things.
Remember what you said.
You become what you love.
He needs help.
He doesnt know,
What isnt his own.
Isnt my best friend,
Starting to bun out,
My bic lighter,
Is out.
My hands strike a match,
Is it so much to ask.
There were so many clicks.
Jump up or something
Else happened
To apear
Just to gorge
On your ptsd
Like the memory
of seing your last horror film.
You left angry,
And told us repeatingly.
I need help
tell us what we can do.
Help us tell you and
You can show us
whose fault it was
I told you not to let anybody
do what they did.
What is it worth
doing all over again.
All the reconziliation
Speeds off with ten dollars
In gas money.
Did you know
What to do
after one interview
In a shrinks office.
Your inner thoughts
have to record
everything.
And for a few seconds
Every thing pushing
towards her garage.
Found a place upwards
in new hours slowly
able to erase the dust tic by tic.
Now we can start counting
Episodes you had.
Nowe we can understand what you have
And by december you will have the best christmas
Your peace on earth will be seeing a baby boy cry
When it snows.
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 3:06 AM UTC