"nonexistant" poems
Here we are again.
Lying on my side,
You running your nonexistant nails
Down the curves of my bare back.
"I can't tell what you're writing."
"I'm not writing, stupid.
I'm drawing."
And I lay there
Reveling for 10 minutes,
Not at the comfort of being touched,
But because it's your fingertips
Tracing your silly doddles
Across my bare skin.
I'm not sure how we got here.
From crab rangoons and redbull,
To sushi and back scratches;
From best friends to this,
This thing so out of touch
With any sensical title.
I'm too much of a ****
To even begin to act like I notice,
To show that I'm more aware than I seem.
Time for a new distraction.
"Meet Virginia" is on, time to tease you.
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 10:25 PM UTC
I don't get this tough guy act
This facade of strength and invincibility
Put on by guys who work out
They brag and strut, show off their muscles
I think it's a bit pathetic.
Ok cool, you can lift 300 pounds,
Can you discuss poetry and science intelligentlly?
Why act invincible and as though you're more solid
Than a diamond, strong through and through
We both know you're more of a turtle,
Strong shell, and soft center that you pretend is nonexistant
In all honesty, I think guys do it to show up other guys
But I'm more into smart, funny guys
More lean than musclebound
And above all, gentle and kind
Sensitivity is not weakness and chivalry should not die
At my school though, it's dying
Some guy will run me over
And another will let the door swing
A third will simply push on through
The rare friend or stranger who stops and gives way
Who holds the door or makes some space
Is hard to find today, and precious
I'll never get this tough guy act,
Made of agression and violence
Fueled by pure testosterone
And removes all common sense.
So guys, please stop this tough guy act
Not a pretty sight at all
You'll beat each other up
For what all too? A girl? A prize?
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 8:19 AM UTC
Advocate of the nonexistant
You are all bends encircling
Circuts of truth verses lies is removed
When diagram of entrails is eviscerated
Attestation that hinders, lingers beyond
Concealing, subsisting, not we
Nothings are baseless, breathing is useless
Repudiate this knowing at once
Doctrines and concepts have derrived
Theories are growing while eras moved on
Delusions set in when axiom gone
Delusions are not when one dies
Attestation that hinders, lingers afar
Concealing, subsisting, not I
Everything's baseless, breathing is useless
Repudiate this knowing at once
Prostulate the higher is there
We all crave desolate space
Subside from afar a seperate reaps
Subside from afar there is none
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 12:51 PM UTC
these chandeliers were home to roses, now fallen petals on this abandoned courtyard
short handed late traced steps and short lived excitement, we are concentric beings
filled with the same steadfast frame of mind, brick by unnerving bricks tower over
burnt down villages, this love found in fairytales doesn't truly exist in real life
there's a hot wired circuit around my blighted mind, suffering from dementia,
or was the diagnosis faith in this fantasy world i created with vivid metaphors
and words i cannot pronounce, just to get across the fact that i believe in this type
of coping mechanism, that this silence is the most clearest my mind's ever been
at the lowest level of the food chain is where i sit, waiting to be swallowed
and spit out into a world with the core being torrid obsidian matching the
color of the asphalt where i once laid and the color of people's hearts
i've met over the years, serendipity is nonexistant just like chivalry
although i really wish there was such a thing as chivalry in real life
- kra
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 4:10 AM UTC
like a seesaw, there is a nonexistant stable foundation, only yes and no answers
you are a rhetorical question and an untested hypothesis, but this is all wrong
this army wasn't meant to stir in it's wake, and this was a natural homecoming
that could only end in some complex disaster, and my roots were torn from home,
swiftly kidnapped, finding eagerness in the idea of you and the solace you bring
i am acutely aware that you could bend me into whatever you wished, a bow on your tree
something proud that you can show everyone, but i'm scared of being treated less than deserved
like a crumpled up idea on paper that was never meant to be shown with the answer, solution, counterclaim written in permanent black marker, forevermore never changed in my eyes, i merely forgotten about the acid reflex i'd get after i was given a finalized ultimatum, forgotten how to see in color because my brain can only remember you in monochrome, but you're so vivid in my head, there's no way someone like you could be just smoke and mirrors, i've read and folded every page of your autobiography to save for later whenever i needed some peace of mind.
- kra
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
paper chain tongues that leave
story book whispers with smudged illustrations
across one's foggy heart.
elephant tracks engraved
in my distorted brain with runaway thoughts
that chase nonexistant standards.
vanilla tape pressed on
my unclean eyeballs with slippery questions like
why is the sun only shining when i'm in the basement?
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 8:04 PM UTC
Picking skin off the dead flesh
bones naked from muscle mass
a bloodied gore infested chest
a vulture feasts upon the distress
paitence nonexistant
a gutless meal persistent without regret
they'll vocally attack your mistake
fueled with dire fret
a wild screech demand
a groundbreaking command
it's claping claws sever
its a vultures life forever
Jul 2, 2010
Jul 2, 2010 at 10:47 AM UTC
I've always dreamt of being a hero,
like all sufferers do.
Saving myself and yourself and all of their selves,
and maybe even the villain too.
Shining silver armor and a sword like gold,
a moral compass to never be lead astray.
Living in the name of a cause and the good of all-
Except those at the tip of the blade.
But what of the villain?
Their hopes, their loves, their moral grey.
Cut down at the finish line
by the self-righteous who cannot be stayed.
Your morals are absurd
and your means just as well,
It's not the angels that punish and save,
but those that trod in hell.
What angel knows of love,
or the suffering of a mortal soul?
The ache of a spurned affection
or the terror of growing old?
I didn't fall from heaven,
I happily stepped down.
No god or hero of any land,
could force my heart or hand bound.
My morals are nonexistant
and my armor riddled with dents.
And when they try me as a villain ******
I'll say none of my misdeeds were well-meant.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 10:17 AM UTC
I was:
a little broken,
a little lost on time,
too much,
and not enough
(But I'd swear "I'm doing fine").
And on every cold night
You held me so tight
my pieces fit together
and you filled the holes
left by storms and bad weather.
Too much is nonexistant
and you love that I'm persistant.
not enough is impossible.
And that's what it means
when you tell me you love me
I'm on top of the world.
I want to say time changes things,
because it's the truth about reality.
But honestly, you're the thing
and you've changed me.
but in a better way than time herself could ever dream.
And now, I'll get to watch change with you for eternity.
Today we're together,
and I'm a little lost on time.
'Cuz I'm in love,
and that's enough.
(I'm doing so much more than fine.)
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 11:22 PM UTC
The Tree Nymph chants with grace,
Mesmerizing men by plenty, soon lost, displaced,
Her voice, charming songs of paradises and victories true;
Sounds like colors, various, like a thousand rainbows hues,
But deceptive songs heard only men whose hearts are empty,
And whose souls are petty, despite they toiled plenty.
For these men who seek women and The Nymph also seeks them:
Evil men full of blackness, foul and dread,
Who foolishly travel to the source of the enchantment,
Only to find themselves slain by this female *******
No heart broken if nonexistant,
Persistent ignorance formed by constant negligence
Yet before dying comes a sweet caress
For slain are these foolish men, Nature is blessed!
From Her body only one guarantee,
Without sympathy, from the enemy
From her blood pure: Holy Vessels,
But only after a pain; unbearable
Her Body sometimes Tree, Her blood always a Holy Sap
Her wisdom an elixir which none can grasp,
She is wet and her branches grow children who will soon run with the wind
Not from the rain, but from the ***** of men who have heard her sing.
Forever shrouded, mysteriously clouded intent
Dreaming of men who wept, with whom they slept, only to met their death
However it is noted, The Tree Nymph sings true and pure,
For men who are evil, the only cure
A purge for those who sing as they hurt and curse
At Women: The Ocean of eternal birth.
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 5:24 AM UTC
i always fidget with my itches
then itch raw with each digit
of the rigid way we squirm with
words we feel to be explicit
but rearranged we're indifferent
without the frame we're elicit
no stopping shame that exhibits
the way your brain always listens
even in pain it's persistent
you can't prohibit the accident
of unwitting existence
don't say sorry to the superstitious fiction
stay judicious
just ease your mind with the lyrics
and grind the grass to find distance
don't mind, the path meets resistance
the system we're in's nonexistant
i'll build a fire ladder for each fallacy
and scale every rhythm
just cleaning out all desire
mind going off like a piston
mankind don't need this fine attire
but the dior keeps us christian
not built to feed to designers
only a liar does glisten
yet we find ourselves requiring
our own kind of inquisitions
in addiction and prison
a shiny label don't listen
so without your permission
i'll find my own set of prescriptions
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
Dear Grandad,
I wish I could take cancer,
and punch it in the face;
And every disease and drug that poisons the body and soul,
I wish I could drag to a grave.
See, those are the things that took you away
For years, when you were out of my life.
But I'm oh so glad that at your last,
you won the battle which was your strife.
Jesus there to pull you to his chest at your final breath,
You made amends with a call to the One on the Mainline.
I loved every moment when I got to see you again,
The time between these reunions nonexistant,
Outshined by the joy of spending precious time
with you.
I'm not God but I wish you were here for another chess session.
I wish you were here so I could steal a bit more wisdom.
I wish I'd had that chance to see you hold my children with love.
You were my last Grandad and I never got to meet the other one.
Now you're both great men who've been spirited away by that sweet angel of death,
Only residing on this earth in the memories of us,
the one's you left behind for to Heaven you've gone to rest.
If I didn't have a job to do here I'd pray for God to take me next.
Dear grandad I'll miss you,
and you'll continue on in the stories We tell your great grandchildren
generation after to generation, every one of your descendents.
Every story about you teaches forever what is best to bet
on in life. After all you've played both sides.
And yet managed to tell my father no lies.
And managed to raise my mother like you, wise.
Truly you were heaven bound and heaven sent.
Through a fantastic wide round trip
you made it to those golden gates of heaven.
And on that note, dear Grandfather,
This letter, like you, will meet it's end.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 1:36 PM UTC
So I've got two AP classes I'm studying for for next year, as well as trying to study to skip german 2, so I'm going to be pretty nonexistant this coming summer. Thank god finals are over.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 5:06 PM UTC
I fear that winter break won't be the only cold front that I face
The holidays will roll around and you will still need more space
I fear that it's not what you say, but what you don't
That is truly telling.
I look at your face. It's not the same
There's a certain kind of love that's missing
What do you do when your one best friend is the one person you can't talk to?
Jesus! All you ever say is, "I'm sorry..." & "Time helps"
And my favorite, "We'll still be great friends, Ashby"
You're such a terrible friend
Your advice is lacking any empathy
And your care is nonexistant.
If we don't have love
And we don't have friendship
What do we have left?
I'm terrified to ask such a question.
I've been doing my part fine
I've been staying in the lines
That go against every fiber of my being
I don't know what to think anymore
Except that you want nothing more
From me.
You don't want us
You don't want we
You just want you...
And me.
I just want answers to questions I've already asked
Shaken off and given little thought
You say you just want what's best
For me
But what I really think
Is that you are a coward.
You're too afraid to be the ******* in this relationship.
But guess what?
You already are.
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 9:58 PM UTC
This trio, conjoined by the snaking coil of a common dream,
Put forth their writing on the proverbial wall
The void between breached by the collective of the written word
Surreal landscape all the while sifting before their wise eyes,
Reached across miles to clasp their hand in the hall of time!
Never quenching the fire of their talent threefold muse,
Or assuaged in time the darkened orbs of the wise.
Through those hands that reached out for each other,
Three incomplete souls, three beads of one unique rosary,
Their heart full of amorphous love,
Breathed into each other a new life,
Became one missing piece of their puzzle,
Bound by a string of silent promises to stay intact,
To not fly away from each other, no matter how high their wings took them,
They set forth a journey, a journey full of never ending journeys.
The perils of their Fellowship, intangible
And the only barriers space and time
One being divided in three by fourteen hours and many miles of Earth
A chance linkage has set this pursuit in for a piece, a work in motion.
A work to describe their separation is forged
And the cogs of a collective mind start to spin.
A single piece borne from heart to heart as in a compendium
Spread out, and all around them the duties of the spherical lay;
Compiled by their hands is done,
And the same rising of the sun is seen of the three in each own way
The beauty of each rose is unfurled like the beating of each momentum!
The victory shall soon be won!
The goal of their want was met by the shores of brighter halls;
Herein contains the working of those annals which rose out of grey walls.
Now hand grasp hand to work complete,
And forged a work and friendship which cannot delete!
Though they rise and fell,
All around their eyes did well;
To see the beauty of one goal,
That did not crash upon some far off shoal!
So ran they the race of the clock which halted—injuries could not hold
The lays of their hearts was far stronger than the ills and their story's told.
The wheels of motion could not stop their voice,
Now they each rise up in one and do rejoice!
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 10:42 PM UTC
everyday it's a round about way
to everything that's exactly the same
i haven't slept in days
not including eight hours everynight
thats how it feels at least
what's the point in sleeping
if resting is nonexistant
my body doesn't collapse or deteriorate but
my mind never rejuvanates
it's useless for me to be here if i can't give the situation
the proper attention i deserve to give it
i haven't selpt in days.
Mar 28, 2010
Mar 28, 2010 at 11:15 AM UTC
My brain is filled with static
I feel like I'm not here
I feel no pain
I feel no pleasure
How can I tell if I exist...
All I can hear is white noise
runningthroughmyhead
softsoftfuzzfuzz
All I can see is blurs of color
greenandwhitesandbrowns
ohmy
All I can smell is nonexistant
airrushesthroughholes
nothinghappens
All I can feel is without reaction
dryhandscoldteeth
don'tcaredon'tcare
All I can taste is tasteless
coatofliquidonmytongue
pleasantunpleasantneutral
Maybe this is what it's like to be. Or not be.
Jun 15, 2010
Jun 15, 2010 at 7:10 PM UTC
pull disconnect over my head,
easy as pulling on a wool sweater. fail to do so,
& i lose track of things
allow myself the prerogative of thinking you are the
nicest prettiest most intrinsically loving
boy
that ever lived.
if i let you scab over, all it takes is one flash of pain,
one quick peel and you are
nonexistant.
a scar so faint it only glows under the ghostly moonlight of your eyes.
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 3:02 PM UTC
There are nights
When I just want to give in
Let the world swallow me
And erase everything
I've fought to become
There are nights
When I'm lonlier than others
I drift along my bare conciousness
I see your eyes drawn out in stars
And hear you calling my name in the breeze
There are nights
When hope is nonexistant
A long forgotten memory of a dream
When I can't hold inside
Everything that threatens to spill out
Then...
There are the nights
Spent with you
And those are the kind of sleepless hours
I live for
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 1:43 PM UTC
We're just two clouds passing through -
just passing by,
colloquial for but a while -
Firm and fleshy in the moment,
wispy and nonexistant later.
Our cracked and opened shells of a solitary death
co-created
waft up their sweet scent of fertile ground
moist, fresh
smelling faintly of stardust and the impossible -
Our edges that don't exist in this world
shimmer and sparkle
pop and crinkle on foreheads and bellies
shining out of our eyes
is the magic of respect
that blows a strong wind
pushing us away
away
from each other
away
away
from each other
closer
and
closer
and
closer
to ourselves
our own dreams
have changed directions.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 2:47 PM UTC
I dreamt you weren't alive, I didn't mind.
I, I realized you were out of life, out of time,
Of this history from which you have moved on.
Now your ashes in a sacred place, the home you called your peace.
But you know, you're scattered everywhere in my climb.
And maybe this imaginary line will lead me back to you
Is it a circle or does it have four right angles?
Does it remain expanding or can't we cross it?
This universe, are you in it?
Because I wish you were here
And wish I knew where it is that you were
Give me some answers.
Let me know if you're free, unrestricted of a body
This casing it's not built correctly or at least that's what they've got me to believe
Should I be lost without you?
Because everyone's still trying to find a way
And I'm wondering if they're asking their grandmama
Or their papa, or their long lost partner
These same old questions
I wonder if their God understands because mine is nonexistant
He does not listen
Nor does he appear in my dreams
I had a nightmare, and you were there.
You said, don't dream if you don't dream to care
We'll dream anyway, I said, we just have to be forgetful
Because everytime I see you I always remember I love you
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 11:59 AM UTC
Its the world I go to
When all my love is rejected
When everything fails
When my best friends fail to guide me
Out of this dark place Im in
So I just grab a bottle
Drink till the pain is gone
Jumping straight into a drunken wastland
I called each of them six times
Trying to get this off my chest
But each and everyone of them rejected my call
So here I am
Bottle in hand
Trying to find the path
To a drunken wasteland
That I missed for so long
I attempted suicide nine times today
Failed each time
So Ill just drown my pain and sorrows
Till the world itself becomes nonexistant
This drunken wasteland is a peaceful place
Really there are no worries and no more pain
Just people who have ruined lives as well
People who truely understand what Im going through
I just wish when I leave this place
That I could breath
Stick my head in the clouds
And find peace for once
Dont I deserve some kind of heaven
In this **** hell
When everything is the same
I just run and hide in a drunken wasteland
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 7:54 PM UTC
all of these people, these relationships
the people we see on the streets, ground level
we see them in the woods
they aren't real
only at night
and when the shadows creep in to cover their true identities
what they actually think, and feel, and see
thats all you can understand
effort is nonexistant and unnecessary
but still
those false people, they are the ones we try for
we try so hard to impress them with our false traits as well
we try to
be funny for them
be cool for them
be hot for them
be skinny for them
we cry for them
we die for them
we starve for them
but what we don't see, what we will never fully see
is that we
are
them
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
Hold me
please
I need you
and want you
So why can't you
see that?
My need,
out on a golden platter;
my heart on my sleeve
for the world to take
I'm desperate
but afraid of being
taken advantage of
again.
I'm desperate to feel,
love
But it's hard to do
when the people you reach out to
push you away
So I reach out to love's epitome,
searching for pain,
the easiest to find
in this cruel world
So, as I tremble on the floor,
are you happy?
Have you finally found some sick satisfaction
from my attempts to please you,
all in vain?
Because I'm through.
I am done
serving you
following and clinging to you
like a lost puppy
Your free entertainment
has expired
I know I should be happy,
these tears nonexistant.
But I still suffer from these scars
And I'm not entirely sure I'm happy this way
But I guess
time will tell
Maybe we can try again
some other time.
But I am fragile
So until you,
this brain and body that contains my soul,
Until you realize
that I have been hurt enough
Until you learn
not to treat me like a
pair of socks
(warm and soft but walked all over),
Until I heal
Until we grow mature,
forgive and forget
I don't know
I just don't know
We may meet again,
a forgotten memory
But,
you're on your own.
Go.
Leave me.
Please...
Stay?
Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 12:38 AM UTC