"obstructed" poems
We've had a turbulent journey together
And as he pushed the bike, slowly did his hand release me
Riding the crashing waves I admit my struggle
And my childish naivety gave passage to worser threats
Yet still he stands there, waving me on my way
Even to this day, despite questionable confidences, I still turn
And still he stands there
A rebel I didn't mean to be, but I am cursed with escalating emotions
Or maybe he would say a blessing, to empathize and find strength
As memories haunt me at night, teaming with those of ill will
The sensitivity he passed on to me prevails, Innocently I am slowed
But my wheels continue turning, and my heart stays true
Though my eyes and ears remain obstructed, my heart makes a turn
And yes, he still stands there
His presence unpurposefully commands attention
And his knowledge, he gives without catch
I understand the wars he must encounter, and yet he stays calm
Giving peace to the tide, he offers nothing, but gives everything
I unconditionally love him
I honestly hold respect for him,
He indirectly teaches me
And fuels me with his love
In this moment, I turn back, not for fear of falling,
But to wave back to the man who let me go
He is no longer there, standing firm in his spot
No
My friend, my father, he rides by my side.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
love,
the most destructive
vulnerability
obstructed by the custom
of guarded humility
that can never pursue
any interest in purity
to keep the living whole
in peace and endless security
oh, violent vulnerability
slighted by my words
whom betray nothing
of my heart's mind
but clear cut diamonds
of the coolest civility
for mild understanding
to chain the enraged truth
seeking to speak
through these irises
the purest contradiction
to the ice burning skin
Jun 7, 2011
Jun 7, 2011 at 9:58 PM UTC
scars of a past I wanted nothing to do with
led me to handcuff myself
to a lampole for security.
I had reached my consensus.
I threw the keys to these cuffs
in mental portals where I thought
no one would dare to ever travel.
Many tried searching
but I intentionally
obstructed access
with deceptive rants of fear and caution.
By then
I was sure
that I had thoroughly built walls of security;
I was safe
...but who would've thought
my aesthetically intellectual design
had a weakness?
The enemy came just as they all did,
hoping to be let in...
but this one reacted differently when the ranting came;
I was now at a disadvantage
because I had no other alternatives for defense.
The enemy showed no care for my security;
It was attractive
And I succumbed while
Never forgetting my plan
Although it seemed my design was nugatory.
My mental lampole and cuffs,
gone.
I was left subjugated
at the feet of a queen
who carried an aura
with the most beautiful spectrum.
Like a bull snake,
promises of security
grappled my core,
draining it of all fear
leaving behind no traces
of deception.
Although defeated,
she still remains my enemy
because serendipity
never seems to stick around.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
When I touch her
Vision is no longer my vice
Her skin
Paints vividly against my hands
I can see her clearly
Despite
Heavy eyelids
And while she is invisible to me
I am left in awe
My senses become useless
With
Her eyes in mine
Her sound in my head
Her scent in the air
However
Touch
Is unconditional
My body and mind become
Confused
With too much to handle
Where is she?
The one for me has not yet crossed my path
And though my mind's eye sees her
The sight is obstructed
She, only
Fills the silhouette
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 6:09 PM UTC
In a desert,
when my imaginative thoughts
drifted away,
a confused kaleidoscope
obstructed my path
and asked the reason of
my persistence in her life
I slowly moved away
pointing towards the
oasis.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 6:37 PM UTC
Look me in the eyes while you taste me
your head moving in shallow dips
I feel your tongue descending slowly
a prelude to your throat and lips
your eyes begin to water
your mouth now fully wet
breaths only come in gasps
as I delve in deeper yet
"That's a good girl"
"Show me what your mouth is for"
your lips curl in an obstructed half-smile, eyes pleading for air
but the sounds coming from your throat, say so much more
I grab your hair by the fistfull
firmly holding your head in place
I watch your face become flushed-red
With each pump of hips and waist
You always look like you belong
below on bended knee
you blush then smile so innocently
As you swallow what's left of me
your eyes look to me for approval
I feel their lustful burn
my smile says "you've been a good girl
and soon, very soon, it'll be your turn"
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
I've got bloodshot vision obstructed
By ash and smoke,
Grit and smog and ember.
The heat is always there, in the flame,
In the smoke, in the air --
In your hands,
Tickling the edges of my face and
Licking at my hair.
And even as the water level
Passes over my eyes, wetting my
Cheeks and jeans, I can
Still see you as
Clearly as the future we've etched
In the streets we've walked,
Down to the black robins that
Will settle on your face in the
Light of the campfire.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 2:40 AM UTC
I am not old, yet.
My skin is not powdery and white, see-through like a paper lantern.
But there is a part of me which
When I dare to reach for someone I love
Reaches with brittle ***** fingers, soft and cold and fluttering like white moths
That edge closer to a flame until they catch.
There is a part of me that feels old, and fragile.
And already even in the crest of my youth I’ve cursed this body
For its frailty, its needs.
It suffers and complains, always crying out for something,
Never sated, never still.
I’ve said it feels like living inside a porcelain doll
A look, and cracks can spider out along an arm,
A word and blood can bloom beneath the surface, seeping up into
Bruised pictures and symbols.
I must always be gentle,
I must always be
Watching.
Too passionate, and fissures form, marring the cheek, spreading like shadows thrown by a lace curtain.
I stare out, burning to touch everything,
And yet I pull back:
To dare is to risk, and I’ve seen
Both reward and loss.
I have seen a thousand shining colors spread across me like sunrise,
Warming my skin,
Calling to me like prayer until a bit of light escaped through the spaces between my atoms and reached another person’s palms,
But I have also seen the pale, flat shards of myself,
Sifted through white dust in dismay
For a salvageable portion.
Indeed, there are rooms in this world where sharp edges of me still linger
Waiting in obstructed corners and beneath heavy refrigerators
To gouge a foot or snag a hem,
Interred
In the dark and hollow places where they flew when I shattered and could not gather them all.
I have known
Intimately
My own fragility,
How maddeningly breakable I am
And how difficult to mend.
And there is a part of me now, always,
Which whispers to me when I would be bold,
“You are not old, yet.
But wouldn’t you just love
To live that long?”
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
The room goes dark
Its time to play
Bewildered look on
Her face
Glowing by the sheen
From candles lit
Let the games begin
A dark voice says
Sweat builds on her brow
Like a tear drop
No sadness here
She awaits in anticipation
Her body is tense
Ropes, whips and chains
Hanging on the walls
Will we be used today
Takes hold of the ropes
Ties her to four posts
Attached to a bed
Dressed in silk clothes
So soft where she lies
He covers her eyes
Field of view obstructed
Heightened senses
Like a cave underwater
No life expected
Her ears come to life
Tingling with slow breathes
From his
cold mouth
Frozen lips
Icy tongue
She gasps for air
Her body bare
First time playing
He isn't easy
On her
A big smile forms
No serenity
Pleasure is torture
She wants more
Craves deep within
No whips
No chains
Nothing more than
Hot and Cold hands
His Toy
Moving across her body
Up and Down
Exploring her map
Over the hills
Through the valleys
From chest to navel
Mouth to Mouth
She licks her lips
In slow motions
Like a fan
oscillating
He tastes so good
So much emotion
The smell of leather
In the air
Takes a deep breathe as
He rubs the ice
Down the Hills
Is it too hot?
Is it too cold?
Her brain can't function
What is this?
is it Pleasure?
Is it pain?
She wants to learn
His tender touch
Is it love?
Is it hate?
Is it passion?
Confused reaction
Please stop!
No, keep going
What to do?
What to say?
She says nothing
She has escaped
Into the confines of
Her mind distressed
Obsessed
She is fully obliged
To Him
Mouth to lips
Passion fruit
Cant move
She comes undone
Her body contorts
Hair stands
Like trees in the forest
Goosebumps
What has happened?
She'll never tell
Forever changed
Her body fell
Into his arms
Her Dark Tormentor
JM 10/4/16
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC
Phantasmagoric
Entranced through the spirals of delusion
Limitless misery trapped betweeen the perfect illusion
Shattered visions trickle along a joyous dream
*********** of deep waters biting through the atlantic sea bream
Whispering in the midst of silken white fantasies
Swiftly stricken back into the disturbing realities
Prismatic colors embedded into a spirit of misconception
A darkened certainty embraces its profound deception
Peaceful pleasures circling whimsical euphoria
Drastically transforming into agitated hysteria
Reflecting portraits of tasteful affection
Briskly dissolving into appalling fabrication
Stimulating my mind with exceptional optimism
The day I met you heartbreak obstructed essential wisdom
MEGAN JAMES
(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED)
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 3:44 AM UTC
I felt the warmth caress my cheek like
the light of heaven radiating down
on me. Looking up I saw my mother,
with eyes blue, and a dress smudged by her youth.
Laughter and love streaked down my face and it
could be said this moment was infinite
in all of its grandeur. But we knew of
this falsehood, for god left for the stars and
you were my angel, but the men took you
too. They marched in; their tin guns rattling
to a tune I didn't know. The storm grew
on until finally, I looked and saw
mother taken into its gaping maw.
My limp retreat, hastened by the need to
escape the reality laid before
me.
As the sad scurried escape continued,
I felt my most intimate seams begin
to tear. The contents of my creator spilling
onto the cold ground. Those tin toy soldiers
surrounded me, and I realized something.
“A ragdoll can't flee”
With an air of vengeance, I took their bait;
biting down on the cursed fruit bestowed
to me by our nonexistent savior.
With a smile I split my seam and screamed out
to all the fallen toys, and fallen joys.
“Hush now men, mother, and me this is life;
this is love, and can't you see what it doe-”
My thought grew dark as a cold tin soldier
finished the job, and I joined my mother
within the ash.
I felt the warmth caress my cheek like
the light of heaven radiating down
on me. Looking up I saw my mother,
with eyes blue, and a dress smudged by her youth.
Laughter and love streaked down my face and it
could be said this moment was infinite
in all of its grandeur. But we knew of
this falsehood, for god left for the stars and
you were my angel, but the men took you
too. They marched in; their tin guns rattling
to a tune I didn't know. The storm grew
on until finally, I looked and saw
mother taken into its gaping maw.
My limp retreat, hastened by the need to
escape the reality laid before
me.
As the sad scurried escape continued,
I felt my most intimate seams begin
to tear. The contents of my creator spilling
onto the cold ground. Those tin toy soldiers
surrounded me, and I realized something.
“A ragdoll can't flee”
With an air of vengeance, I took their bait;
biting down on the cursed fruit bestowed
to me by our nonexistent savior.
With a smile I split my seam and screamed out
to all the fallen toys, and fallen joys.
“Hush now men, mother, and me this is life;
this is love, and can't you see what it doe-”
My thought grew dark as a cold tin soldier
finished the job, and I joined my mother
within the ash.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
Hit after hit
head under water (inebriated)
unable to swim,
I choked,
unsure if by God's hands or my own.
But by God I swallowed it all
then begged for more.
I sank until my feet hit the bottom
stirring the sand around my legs
then upwards.
The ocean floor obscured,
my vision obstructed.
Desperately I swiped
in vain,
and swiped again,
but still the obstruction remained.
And God laughed
and I choked
either by God's hands or mine,
by miracle or design.
Am I Him
or Him me?
Seething with questions
sung and unheard,
then yelled and ignored,
I finally lay myself to rest.
A deep sigh escaping my breast,
I surrendered to rest.
Sleep overcame me
and I dreamt of pearls,
that one day this heaviness
would give birth to pearls.
But alas I awaken
and in my night terror
I had stirred the sand again.
I do not remember.
God let me remember.
I dream of pearls
and of pearls I dream.
Yet still am I to awaken
to this dream.
The sand begins to settle
but the hand stirs again,
never lain to rest,
the obstruction remains.
Sometimes I see glimmers,
gleams and glistens
of the pearls I've only
seen in my dreams.
And by God's hands they gleam
as they always did.
But my hands became rough
from the sand that stirs
and I fear to ever touch,
a pearl,
to ensure that I never
grind her back to sand.
For God shall laugh
and I shall choke.
"Stay sleeping, little one.
Dream of pearl,"
He said.
And deliver He did
oblivion and pearls.
Apr 2, 2022
Apr 2, 2022 at 3:49 AM UTC
Even he was envious of her solitude. She was never not cloaked in the warmth of her own bubble. She was consoled in a demure susurrus, and never missed a kiss with the mist of air, alluring every inch of her body to coalesce with ethereality. Her skin shivered. So did his. How did the stillness linger amidst the commotion, the row, the function? It was inevitable. He almost believed she was only a feast for the sightseers, a prey for those who despised idleness at night. But good God, did she move! Did she swing her fingertips in a melodious number! Did she blink her emeralds to blind those with unfortunate, degraded gems! And did she turn to look and lift the corners of her lips, into a form that could be misconstrued, both if it were and were not responded! And did his body defy his mind, when he could only see her go, and witness his failure to speak and his success to listen. And did his mind defy his heart, when the path to his love was obstructed by the thoughts of no one but his own.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 7:15 AM UTC
East, they said,
and east we went.
Onward, upward,
to what they called "The Ruins" at the mouth of Emigration Canyon
A failed building project that left nothing but a few giant curved brick walls.
We parked our vehicles and trekked up to the top of the highest wall.
Cracked open a few brews, sparked a few smokes and gazed.
We gazed out upon the twinkling lights of the Salt Lake valley.
Our view extending to every point of every mountain top creating a giant bowl of glimmering city soup.
I took a sip of my beer, a drag of a Lucky Strike,
and leaned back, my focus slowly fading from the valley, and directing itself upward to the vast sky, obstructed only by a few purple clouds.
The stars were bright and visible that night.
Maybe it was the cigarette, but in that moment I felt remarkably lucky.
The small talk, and jokes made among friends,
The beauty of everything now in sight,
and knowing how it was once nothing.
The thought of every light we could see from the valley containing people, currently living their lives,
We pondered,
How many people are crying?
How many laughing?
How many dying?
How many being born?
Reborn?
Our lives are strikingly meaningless,
And how beautiful is that?
The coyotes howling in the distance reminded us that the land was not ours to keep,
only ours to visit.
We had taken in all we could, for the time being, of an illimitable world.
We ventured downward, west,
and back to our lives,
insignificant as all the rest,
and tried to hold on the the feeling of being above it all.
Being
Boundless
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 3:18 AM UTC
Her life was full of adventure
Cascading around as if she were on ice-skates
Sliding around life's edge
Daring temptations
And
Yet she lays here
Upon this empty casket
Unburdened
Unresolved
Unbounded by fates gentle, but cruel ties
I can almost hear her last gasp of breath
Her eye lids obstructed shut
And
Our heads dip down
As the Song of Nephilim plays
The Grim Reaper wields his scythe of death once more
Ending her final days
And
Sending her across the River Styx
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 11:58 PM UTC
It was a cold night,
I was coming home,
And I didn't inform her,
As I wanted it to be a surprise.
War was over and I was going home,
The terrorists had been terminated.
I had stopover en route,
At a distant town I paused,
Famous for its winery,
I had got the finest ***
For both me & my wife.
Obstructed en route by a blizzard,
I thought about my wife at home.
Waiting for the way to be cleared,
I slept because I felt so very tired.
A dream sequence started,
It was so bright and warm.
I was basking in the Sun,
My wife accompanied me.
Holding hands we're in the backyard,
Not a cloth shielded us from the Sun.
Composing poems we were,
Warm and hot ones as well.
I had said:
***"Oh my honeybunch,
My buttercup,
I love you,
From the core,
Of my purest heart."***
She had replied:
***"Oh my sweetiepie,
My bigger baby,
I love you too,
From my heart,
And even my body."***
But then the dream ended,
They had cleared the road.
The driver again started driving,
At a slow speed fit only for snails,
Still my rifle rattled inside the bad.
Now I reached my town,
I expected her in nightgown,
In the velvety green one she had.
Edging closer on foot to my home,
I observe incandescence in the hall,
Glimmering through the curtains,
I thought she was waiting for me,
Basking in the heat of the fireplace,
After a tiring day's work at the office,
She should have slept peacefully,
But here she was, I thought,
Waiting for her man to be back,
From the neighbouring state's capital.
With these positive thoughts on my mind,
I parried forwards in the snow,
And I thought I'd surprise her,
Telling that my work was done,
Earlier, much earlier than I had expected.
I produced my copy of the key,
And silently opened the door,
But then I heard some sounds.
Totally unexpected sounds,
Like the intimate ones in bed,
I wanted it to be some teleseries,
But then I noticed an overcoat,
And a pair of oversized boots,
Neither the overcoat belonged to me,
Nor the huge gumboots were mine.
It dawned upon me,
My wife had been cheating,
She was in the hall,
The indecent incandescence,
With the noises of it,
Filled the home after issuing,
From the main hall.
I immediately stepped back,
Closing the door silently behind me,
Then I went to the bus stop.
I entered the lodge nearby,
Took the bottle of *** out,
Drank it full slowly but surely,
Then I took the gun out,
Sank the *** in & pulled the trigger,
BANG!!!
The bullet dug under my chin,
It pierced me through my head,
Shattering the lamp overhead.
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 11:40 PM UTC
A moment of eternal sun
fades as the clouds rear their head.
Light now dimmed, I drift in my thoughts,
waiting for the onslaught from the mocking lull of the waves.
The storm is upon me.
All I can see; all I can hear
is the weight of the words come crashing down.
Every bluster, blow and blast,
sees me falling further.
The chaos continues.
The raging storm throws its all.
Escape is not an option.
It will take no survivors.
Drained, disorientated, I am taunted by the voice
that is fuelled by my fall.
Waiting for defeat…
"No!" I cry. "The voice shall not win!"
A life of sheer misery
is but an endless prison sentence.
There is more to life than this,
every shadow needs some light.
The sinking ship shall stay afloat.
A lifetime of being trapped in darkness,
is obstructed by the prevailing flame of hope.
The whistling voice
that made every storm a tempest
now whimpers in my presence.
I am free from the suffocation.
The storm has passed.
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 10:45 AM UTC
I feel past
his colourless eyes
and his chapped lips.
The faded glimmer of happy memories,
too obstructed by the scars of his story,
permanent.
It's a love with the power of a storm,
strong even in the absence of rain.
I read past his unspoken words and uncollected thoughts,
and see the incisive emotions he expresses through a fragile breath,
as his current expression is just an instance of the whole he completes.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
the words that flow from my soul
to my veins and out through my fingertips,
to most are obstructed by either confusion, misunderstanding
or whatever other baggage they carry that won't let my abstract thoughts
penetrate their unfortunate heavy epicenter.
never have my expressions been powerful enough to break them,
i met you, spent half a day with you, and you left,
that was it, gone, just like that,
1,000's of miles away.
but however, whatever ill-fated scenario that was,
we speak to each others soul, lover we don't even have the same native tongue,
yet you understand my core better than any other that has ever entered my leading light.
i'm taken back to a child-like state,
i feel scared, forlorn.
i'm afraid just like an absent father,
you will provide me with certainty that it will happen.
sweetheart, i hate to break this to you but,
age doesn't pause for life, love or the desire to pursue you
as scary as it may be, if what is spoken to me is true
that dive, as deep, as dark as it may be, know i am writing to you from the depths.
i vow, i won't let you drown. please, babe, dive in,
my skin is only withering without you.
love & art, 1991
henk holveck
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 10:00 PM UTC
Sliding down a savagely slippery slope
A downward spiral obstructed with fate
I found my Mechanism, now I can cope
Checkers before her, my soul chessmate
As cold as a glacier, shivering and frigid
I lay in the snow, halfway frozen to death
I was as stiff as a statue so hard and rigid
Her lips greeted mine with heaven's breath
It's now clear to me I was paralyzed before
A shell of myself, many layers left to peel
Standing still with deaf ears upon the door
You opened it and gave me ability to feel
I see the future in your eyes, just like an old soothsayer
Her smile won a nobel prize, for answering my prayer
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
Maiden and Observer
As speculated,
The observer and the scientist
See an enigmatic entrance.
The arrival of the specimen:
He shows haste,
His wrist flickers:
Punctuality.
He mouthes questions of career:
Orderliness.
His vocal appetite silent:
Surrender.
He declares instruction:
Superiority.
He brightens athleticism.
Focus.
The smile appears through
in the unknownest places,
Within restaurant doors,
Through the soundwaves.
Through ideations:
Competitive movement.
Inertia and stagnation is of disinterest.
Wordly reflection produces empty reciprocration.
Can it be a metaphor for the observer,
Can the specimen by the symbol?
Both reflected from one another.
There is the one,
and then, the other.
The challenge is:
Exhibiting both states
Simultaenously.
This is the task of the maiden.
The balancer of scales.
The scientist seeks to understand,
There is evidence of somes sort
A hidden bliss a smile inside,
a moment of analysis.
Notions brought on by previous experiments.
Past failures predict present outcome,
Recent knowledge or estimation?
Emotion links to reason,
Reason negotiates but stands firm,
The scientist is fatigued, his hand lowers.
Body language is lazily interpreted by curious Observer,
Studying this new behaviour.
The professor places his spectacles on,
He sees no other path to take,
He concludes and hypothesises,
This specimen can be learnt from
No more.
Specimen's silence allows flowing thoughts to pervade the mind of the observer and the scientist.
Silence given to the cynicism of life,
the broadened mind
perceived as narrow.
The observer is observed.
Now conciousness changes in the realm of the user experiencing himself.
Self perception, self defense,
Guard is raised,
Gates are closed.
Only water flows through,
Other matter obstructed.
Maiden, Observer, Scientist, Specimen.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 11:07 AM UTC
Marionette spread
On her bread
Some cheese,
The evening sun was red
When flew above her head
A few wild geese!
As she looked up the sky
To see them prettily fly
Buzzed around her head,
Black honeybees!
She held her ground
Moved her hands around
But they do as they please,
These stubborn honeybees!
The smell struck their head
Fine cheese on bread
So luscious was the sight -
It whetted their appetite!
Marionette felt uneasy
The bees kept her busy
And obstructed her sight -
She was not allowed a bite!
It was getting late
The sun was about to set
It was coming to twilight,
But our poor Marionette
In her agitated state
Couldn’t enjoy the sight!
Cute little Marionette
She went down on her knees
But her evening was spoiled
By the uninvited bees!
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 7:09 AM UTC
This war professes the whispers of infatuation
A hopeful faith yearning for satisfaction
Deteriorating steps that began to carve my way
The spirit knew he had to stay away
With visions of burning fields
As you return from your flight
I'm condemned for the harsh tight wounds
That you created and sewed in my chest
A dress made of scars and a lost youth
You may stay and gather
To try and survive
Although this place will beat your bare
All hours I still wanted to come inside
You were awake hiding in a piece of a shadow
Sheltering your rage
Destroying the hunger of lies
The mystery of numb thinking
The very words that escape your throat
Lust that reflected the water onto the stones
A displaced reflection without the truth
Vomiting my beliefs of this solitary exhaustion
Petals of torment that hindered me
Trembling with a million pieces of need
Obstructed by the hostility that fulfills me
A vision of intolerance frantically spreading
The taste of callouses gathering on my tongue
I unearth the truth
Peeling the flaws of our mistakes away
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
The safety of your arms
protects me from harming myself
out of curiosity,
leashed to your control
keeps me from flying higher than you,
your **********
lordingly rules over my passive acquiescence.
I proclaim my independence
but am forced to let you carry me,
I make my own decisions
as long as they make you happy,
I speak my mind freely
depending on what you like to hear,
because upsetting you would mean
that I would have to live for myself -
my one fear which I dream of overcoming,
my one dream I am too scared to attempt.
you say I should stand up for what I believe,
yet every time I timidly rise
you degradingly suggest I sit down.
as you tell me I am free
we both subconsciously know
your superiority has again obstructed your justice,
you are giving me no chances before I even ask,
you have already determined my value as less than yours,
and you have destined my fate to be insignificant and foolish.
I dare to resist
and your eyes promptly glare,
fiendishly laughing,
because you know that as the words leave my lips
I am already defeated,
and that you have again been victorious
in this sadistic game of power -
and you know that you will always win.
Apr 21, 2010
Apr 21, 2010 at 9:29 PM UTC
Peculiar speckled stones
on my lids, in them
When eyes are locked and closed
See yellow see yellow
Vision obstructed
Beams of sunlight slicing, sharp blades
Grasping before dusk
What was left to see
The carpenter shrugged, shook his rug
Early at night, late in the morning
Half of the worms underneath
Underneath underneath, far
Were crying soil and cinder
Flesh puncturing
The depth turning black
Boiling magma farthest point
Unreachable destination
Could it be a goal
Could there be a path
Is there supposed to be one
Dislocated elbows
Shoulders fractured twice
To remember to remember
Atmosphere in the womb
Trapped in a jelly fish
Ashore under the heat
Blaze scorching
Melted slime in the ears
Think you are fading
Disappearing to the world
To everything and everyone
No body prints on the sand
No scratch of jelly fish
Gleaming through water
You were here before
You were here then
You were
When is now?
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 4:28 AM UTC