"nerveless" poems
Night and the Morning,
always I am wishing ,
When would the lights on?
When would I move on?
This makes me go worse, birth place ; death place sinks in darkness!
There would be one chance to blow,
Even to make the nights to glow,
But only when I step out ,
Now the people shout,
although a nerveless trout,
We are no more a country brute ,
We know the impudent crook,
who ***** up all our energy ,
who works without dignity.
We lack in unity ,
Well there is more diversity ,
WE ALWAYS KNOW EACH OTHER :Nothing more to point on some other .
This makes me worse ,Only one thing to point that's our leaders.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 10:32 AM UTC
What is my Purpose?
On this earth's surface.
Do I have an ultimate service,
within these verses?
What is my purpose,
In today's circus.
Is it to buy all that I can purchase?
Or be out on the street shirtless.
What is my purpose,
Among the Earth's worthless,
Is it to grow up scared and nervous?
Or walk around nerveless.
What is my purpose,
In this earth's furnace,
Is it to be full of pureness
and warm those around me like a thermos?
To the above questions,
I am wordless.
To the above questions,
I am verbless.
To the above questions,
I am termless.
So i guess my purpose,
Is full of obscureness.
And in this search for sureness,
I strive on with sterness,
Ignoring the churchless,
In doing my best to furbish
My best definition
Of Purpose.
May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 9:21 AM UTC
nerveless, tingling fingers
hold my brow
snot trickles down my throat, i can
barely taste it
residue convolutes
synapses,,confusion &lapses;
let the temple be fumigated
is this really good for me?
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
I am dull green and compact
whomever I ****** I sip loosely
condign with a wedding ring.
I am not an oasis I am only factual
The belief of a Quadrivial dinosaur.
Male lions exigency steer my flame
nerveless singular in ones element
Tranquil, soundless, never saying boo.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC
no brakes, skidding tires, smashing glass, crunched steel
sharp points piercing pinholes in a nerveless vein
locked doors, hot engine, sweet exhaust
chamber full, trigger ready, safety off
one, two, five, ten.. how many would be enough
dissolved at the bottom of a sleep inducing 40 ounce'r
take off, like weighted birds soar is stuttered
the quiet scream of a blade that cuts like butter
childhood memories are not sweet, filled with imaginary friends
they are haunted by real ghosts, tortured by lost souls
looking for an escape long before you ever knew
you would have so many reasons to run away
Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 11:47 AM UTC
Neglected now is the old guitar
And moldering into decay;
Fretted with many a rift and scar
That the dull dust hides away,
While the spider spins a silver star
In its silent lips to-day.
The keys hold only nerveless strings--
The sinews of brave old airs
Are pulseless now; and the scarf that clings
So closely here declares
A sad regret in its ravelings
And the faded hue it wears.
But the old guitar, with a lenient grace,
Has cherished a smile for me;
And its features hint of a fairer face
That comes with a memory
Of a flower-and-perfume-haunted place
And a moonlit balcony.
Music sweeter than words confess,
Or the minstrel's powers invent,
Thrilled here once at the light caress
Of the fairy hands that lent
This excuse for the kiss I press
On the dear old instrument.
The rose of pearl with the jeweled stem
Still blooms; and the tiny sets
In the circle all are here; the gem
In the keys, and the silver frets;
But the dainty fingers that danced o'er them--
Alas for the heart's regrets!--
Alas for the loosened strings to-day,
And the wounds of rift and scar
On a worn old heart, with its roundelay
Enthralled with a stronger bar
That Fate weaves on, through a dull decay
Like that of the old guitar!
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 1:38 PM UTC
The bleached headers collect on this
sea of silence, words collecting memories
of names now wilted and silent.
But we remember these crests of white frozen on
the fields of shattered dreams, dormant reminders
that not all names are still spoken.
Nerveless there are still waves of regrets
and honour for fallen impressions.
Buried beneath the sea of green, our future granted.
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 5:57 PM UTC
Empathy is the key to our society some say
put yourself in their shoes they say
but I do
I do it too much.
I feel for them too much.
Every time I see their tears
its a punch to the chest
it shatters my glass ribs
and punctures my nylon heart.
But to my own tears,
to my own suffering
I feel nothing.
still.
dry.
numb.
Maybe I am a mirror
only reflecting the pain I see.
Or maybe I have been told
it's weak to cry
cowardly to feel bad for myself
nerveless to struggle.
So I continue to cry for the broken
hurt for the rejected
and ache for the beaten
leaving nothing left for myself.
Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 10:38 PM UTC
brainless shuffle
c r a w l i n g
nerveless
fog lifts.
tingling fingers
gut drop (you have one of those now)
look up,
knife to chest
the seasons passed without you.
and just like that you can mourn the end of love.
Jan 30, 2022
Jan 30, 2022 at 11:51 AM UTC
is saturdays at ten in the morning,
sundays later at eleven.
this too remembered in the bathroom,
where today’s installment
for every woman is
the importance of a good complexion,
aided by a moderate diet,
essential. an east wind to be avoided,
along with shell fish.
these do much harm
to the tenderest skin,
while wrinkles apparently
bring despair.
real pretty arms are never snowy white,
being pudgy and nerveless,
should be cream
coloured.
i go to the eisteddfod today.
sbm.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 2:50 AM UTC
My syllables skip
pages
of repetition....
A life less interesting
but nerveless, reading on..
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
Loneliness leaves bread crumbs along
The trail
Careless slack skin
Bells on strings
We beggars spilling soft glossy eyes
Unto
Palms of grime
Pierced by silver coins
Gold memories tossed by the blind
Fall in droplets on our toes
Could only pick them up
By bending
Kneeling
Begging
Beings in repentance
Cupping the sulfur
Wrath wrapped into madness
Selling our flesh to the freedom of our souls
Skinless boneless nerveless
Tenderness still leaks
In vain
While fluttering moths
Die in a halo
Graceful rituals
Covering darkness with darkness
And sorrow still blooms
Seated in the seeds of vulnerability
To the slight sight
Of undeniable truth
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 6:44 AM UTC
sweet
heart over mind
the words glistened
amid the cool air
nerveless hands
move as they please
a teenage wonder
cast into reality
curated from hearts of the mindless
now crowded with unfamiliarity
met with a stranger's gaze
bare trees brought forth
with my honey lemon tea
and a newly found haunting
lingers in my captive mind
bitter
Nov 3, 2019
Nov 3, 2019 at 9:24 PM UTC
At irregular intervals
I take a long pole
and turn the
sightless eyes
to sun
Unplug nerveless nostril
to unwitness fresh
pine
Bare gummy mouth
to taste the
crystal stream.
Those boon companions
bear no fault that
they died to the world
And have no clue
why the mountain grew
the star fell
(though to us she burns
bright in her long
extinguished firmament)
They never felt
vulcanised veins nor
systematic surges of love.
Flotsam, jetsam,
washed up on the tide
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 1:59 AM UTC