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"outreached" poems
Once it started opening up, Like a wound, the pearl sheen of skin deepening into a red As rare as the perfect rose And just as treasured. Bones dense around my heart And lock themselves in place. Stifling the voice - two beats - The third one silent. The fourth, The fifth, The third. You are my arms outreached but selfish, Hands open but stiff, Palms red.
0
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 3:12 PM UTC
Red Palms
They walked in together with flushed faces and cold ears, after walking for what seemed like minutes in the coniferous forest surrounding the cedar cabin. Those minutes were actually hours, but when they were out here time did a funny thing and sometimes stopped all together. He hung their coats in the closet as she stripped herself of boots and socks, with bare cold feet she walked across the patterned carpet feeling its fibres between her toes. She perched herself on the couch in her favourite reading spot. He then too assumed his position on the couch allowing a space inside his outreached arm to be filled by her appreciative body. As she blankly gazed at the green life out the window, he gazed at her. Memorizing the freckles on the bridge of her nose and the way she puckered her lips without noticing. Absorbing all of her for a keepsake in case she decided to disappear as fast as she had come. This girl, he thought, is the most beautiful combination of genes and timing I have encountered in my life. But he didn’t mean physically, he meant her laugh and her stubbornness and how she believed she was spontaneous but every moment of her life was planned. It scared him how much and how detailed he saw his future, and how she was undoubtedly in it as far as he was concerned. Sometimes he wished he didn’t feel so much for her, for them. He had been hurt before and he grew accustomed to the calluses around his heart. She breathed it all in, slowly but thoroughly. She breathed in the warmth of the burning furnace, the smell of wood that was still alive. She breathed in his sent of musk, soap, and mint. She breathed in his delicious smell of love, his pheromones. This place was exactly what they needed, some time in a surreal place to remember each other and how well they used to fit. How well they do fit. The stress and distractions of everyday life were tugging at the strings that kept them woven together. All they needed was time to be silent together, time to think together about different things. She knew that their hands and souls would fit together again like they always had, if they just gave it a chance. And now, here they were in their own made happiness. Sitting here as one piece of human, making love in the most innocent of ways.
0
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 4:10 PM UTC
Cedar Cabin
They walked in together with flushed faces and cold ears, after walking for what seemed like minutes in the coniferous forest surrounding the cedar cabin. Those minutes were actually hours, but when they were out here time did a funny thing and sometimes stopped all together. He hung their coats in the closet as she stripped herself of boots and socks, with bare cold feet she walked across the patterned carpet feeling its fibres between her toes. She perched herself on the couch in her favourite reading spot. He then too assumed his position on the couch allowing a space inside his outreached arm to be filled by her appreciative body. As she blankly gazed at the green life out the window, he gazed at her. Memorizing the freckles on the bridge of her nose and the way she puckered her lips without noticing. Absorbing all of her for a keepsake in case she decided to disappear as fast as she had come. This girl, he thought, is the most beautiful combination of genes and timing I have encountered in my life. But he didn’t mean physically, he meant her laugh and her stubbornness and how she believed she was spontaneous but every moment of her life was planned. It scared him how much and how detailed he saw his future, and how she was undoubtedly in it as far as he was concerned. Sometimes he wished he didn’t feel so much for her, for them. He had been hurt before and he grew accustomed to the calluses around his heart. She breathed it all in, slowly but thoroughly. She breathed in the warmth of the burning furnace, the smell of wood that was still alive. She breathed in his sent of musk, soap, and mint. She breathed in his delicious smell of love, his pheromones. This place was exactly what they needed, some time in a surreal place to remember each other and how well they used to fit. How well they do fit. The stress and distractions of everyday life were tugging at the strings that kept them woven together. All they needed was time to be silent together, time to think together about different things. She knew that their hands and souls would fit together again like they always had, if they just gave it a chance. And now, here they were in their own made happiness. Sitting here as one piece of human, making love in the most innocent of ways.
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2
A storm is coming, Its coming in the form of a man, He comes to disrupt, Whatever peace I have left. But I will fight this man, Only because, This peace I have, I worked to attain. But this storm of a man, Comes in beauty, He comes with delightful looks, And he plans to rip away the peace in my heart. This man, This strong man, When he smiles at me, I melt away in his arms. But the storm is strong, And it covers me, And I am lost again, The peace I have slowly disappears. But I scream NO! I will not lose the peace, A peace which I have come to love, Which I have become accustomed to. This man shakes my love, This storm shakes my beliefs, This man has his arm around me, And I am at peace again. But what do I tell the peace I already have? Do I leave it? This storm in the form of a man, Has caused me to question my peace. The sophisticated and beautiful storm. I am at a crossroads. On my left is the storm that will take me into new realms, And in that storm, an unknown man stands, His hands outreached to receive me, Behind him is the unknown. On my right is peace and love, Amongst all that peace and love is warmth, A man stands there as well, but a man with a familiar face, He smiles and ushers me come to him. So I stand at the crossroad, Thinking, Pondering, Wondering, Screaming. The pain is terrible, The feeling is disgraceful. But I know I have to choose. But what will I choose? So I choose the road ahead of me, Neither left nor right, I stumble onto a new road, And I look on at it, And I am happy with what I have chosen, I will create peace and love there, Wherever this road leads me, I will begin a storm for myself. And the two men are no more.
0
Mar 15, 2012
Mar 15, 2012 at 8:28 AM UTC
A Storm
A storm is coming, Its coming in the form of a man, He comes to disrupt, Whatever peace I have left. But I will fight this man, Only because, This peace I have, I worked to attain. But this storm of a man, Comes in beauty, He comes with delightful looks, And he plans to rip away the peace in my heart. This man, This strong man, When he smiles at me, I melt away in his arms. But the storm is strong, And it covers me, And I am lost again, The peace I have slowly disappears. But I scream NO! I will not lose the peace, A peace which I have come to love, Which I have become accustomed to. This man shakes my love, This storm shakes my beliefs, This man has his arm around me, And I am at peace again. But what do I tell the peace I already have? Do I leave it? This storm in the form of a man, Has caused me to question my peace. The sophisticated and beautiful storm. I am at a crossroads. On my left is the storm that will take me into new realms, And in that storm, an unknown man stands, His hands outreached to receive me, Behind him is the unknown. On my right is peace and love, Amongst all that peace and love is warmth, A man stands there as well, but a man with a familiar face, He smiles and ushers me come to him. So I stand at the crossroad, Thinking, Pondering, Wondering, Screaming. The pain is terrible, The feeling is disgraceful. But I know I have to choose. But what will I choose? So I choose the road ahead of me, Neither left nor right, I stumble onto a new road, And I look on at it, And I am happy with what I have chosen, I will create peace and love there, Wherever this road leads me, I will begin a storm for myself. And the two men are no more.
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60
cease awhile and hold commune with his fabrication and admire every cordant note of a symphony yet unwritten. t’was a nymph saw i a-Maying her comeliness beggared the reach of art outreached my arms to touch her tidy traces alack, gone she in the mists of morn. the moon-kissed bed was light and life with verdant dewy leaves astride the speechless mountain tops a journey was begun to rain again his darts of gold to every waiting one. the blanket of the skies was azure blue on limpid waters seen along her hurried way she dropped those gaudy flowrets beam. saw i her locks in every nodding palm ‘neath the tropic sun. t’was birds do counterfeit her melody the rustling bamboo stole. they utter now sweet words of love as winds doth beat and blow the roar and rush of the swollen river asks: what is it to you? sprightly now the winged ones from bud to bud alight. athirst, searching for that self-same delight. the crown of earth’s flowing seas of grass its mighty arms apart attentive to the incoherent whispers of the breeze that chances by. what now messengers of the skies? what saw you beyond the floating clouds? what find you at the end of the rainbow? what secrets lie hid in yonder hills? pray tell this to the hurling spar of the ever-running brook for down and down and down she goes to her anxious ocean-brother. could she have paced the grotesque shore to appease the bleating sea? now she laps up the sand-white beach now she beats the rock-bound shore with shrill indignant murmur. the shore and plain nod assent nay, my search is done. twelve knotty hours of day are gone and still my find is none to tease the gloomy brow of night aflame is all the west in its expiring redolence my happy nymph adieu.
0
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
mists of morn
cease awhile and hold commune with his fabrication and admire every cordant note of a symphony yet unwritten. t’was a nymph saw i a-Maying her comeliness beggared the reach of art outreached my arms to touch her tidy traces alack, gone she in the mists of morn. the moon-kissed bed was light and life with verdant dewy leaves astride the speechless mountain tops a journey was begun to rain again his darts of gold to every waiting one. the blanket of the skies was azure blue on limpid waters seen along her hurried way she dropped those gaudy flowrets beam. saw i her locks in every nodding palm ‘neath the tropic sun. t’was birds do counterfeit her melody the rustling bamboo stole. they utter now sweet words of love as winds doth beat and blow the roar and rush of the swollen river asks: what is it to you? sprightly now the winged ones from bud to bud alight. athirst, searching for that self-same delight. the crown of earth’s flowing seas of grass its mighty arms apart attentive to the incoherent whispers of the breeze that chances by. what now messengers of the skies? what saw you beyond the floating clouds? what find you at the end of the rainbow? what secrets lie hid in yonder hills? pray tell this to the hurling spar of the ever-running brook for down and down and down she goes to her anxious ocean-brother. could she have paced the grotesque shore to appease the bleating sea? now she laps up the sand-white beach now she beats the rock-bound shore with shrill indignant murmur. the shore and plain nod assent nay, my search is done. twelve knotty hours of day are gone and still my find is none to tease the gloomy brow of night aflame is all the west in its expiring redolence my happy nymph adieu.
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86
She came to the farm a shy stray, hid in the woodshed for days. Food and water we left for her kept her alive. In time though very nervous, little by little keeping some distance, upon the porch she climbed. After a month she ascended a chair next to mine, where in the spring sunshine we two set side by side. Not touching or speaking just biding our time. One day she reached out a paw placing it on my knee, politely asking permission to step onto my lap.  Her fear overridden by the need for companionship. She prefers to remain mostly outside, but everyday she comes to my door and with outreached front paws she frantically scratches up and down on the glass begging to come inside. I feed her then feeling safe she sleeps awhile on the back of the couch, eventually seeking gentle permission to sit upon my lap, on a soft blanket kept just for her. She purrs with contentment while, taking cat naps now and then, as I stroke and caress her head and chin, occasionally opening her sparkling grey eyes to study my face, as if to be reassured it's me touching her and that I'm still there. In her eyes if that is not devoted love   and gratitude I see looking back at me, I don't know what else it could possibly be.
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Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 2:53 PM UTC
Finding Friends
Hey son what it do! You know how much I love you. How did you get so far from me. Hey son between us two you've put quite some distance. Feels like seeing I'm mother as your growing up I'm now the resistance. Remember I'm not the enemy. Hey son I love you from the Earth to the Moon and the distant Sun. Hi little Gemini. I want to see you take your wings to soar I want to see you fly. I give you your time, distance and your space. But I remember when you were a little boy who didn't mind me planting kisses on your face. Hi son I remember June 20th the day you were born. From every moment I've helped you grow through every storm. Hey young Gemini. It's like now we can't see eye-to-eye. But you'll always be the apple of my eye. I know that you're on your way to being a strong young man Just don't forget I'm here with an outreached hand. I'm your mom a go hard fan. With you I've done the best that I can. Your journey has begun. Go on now son.. Enjoy Life I get to see you live and continue to learn and to grow and grow. @H.E.R_Poetry S.A.M
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Feb 19, 2022
Feb 19, 2022 at 3:37 PM UTC
HEY SON
We never meant for this to happen For it to go so far Malicious and heart wrenching Are our corrupted memories Your face pops in and out I try unceasingly To rid of it Push every thought of you out of my mind But no matter what I do To busy myself Distract myself You come back Your gorgeous eyes memorized Every speck of gold Every eyelash Every in take of breath Captivated in stolen moments of nonsense You stir these feelings inside me…. Breaking me open This bridge on opposite ends Meant to be cut, severed Never to be crossed Never to be mended You have her; I have him Enough Because every time we meet You ignite, against every fiber of my being, a fire inside me Burning deep Waiting to be put out Turned to ice, turned to hate But you stand so close sometimes A bittersweet longing In those non-existent touches Out of your grasp Dangerously poisoning Are our little games We try to ignore those locked gazes Those outreached hands Those distorted thoughts That we become lost in Because you take it so freely All of it, every last bit In one bite In one moment in time Taking what was always yours to begin with Coping with the loss of my being The blood loss The mind aching regiment of your face Of your eyes Of that smile that makes my day Diabolical are we Caught in our own web Randomly weaved When will it end? This heartache Tell me I entreat Tell me, please When will it end? This thing Say when Say now My knees are about to give out When will it end? These memories These stolen moments These horrible mistakes Tell me, please I beg you Because I’m about to give up I need you ….........to tell me Please Put me out of my misery Tell me how long I have to wait Tell me it needs to end right now So late Tell me, love, tell me When will it end? Say it Please, say it Say now Say it ends now
0
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
Waging Seas
We never meant for this to happen For it to go so far Malicious and heart wrenching Are our corrupted memories Your face pops in and out I try unceasingly To rid of it Push every thought of you out of my mind But no matter what I do To busy myself Distract myself You come back Your gorgeous eyes memorized Every speck of gold Every eyelash Every in take of breath Captivated in stolen moments of nonsense You stir these feelings inside me…. Breaking me open This bridge on opposite ends Meant to be cut, severed Never to be crossed Never to be mended You have her; I have him Enough Because every time we meet You ignite, against every fiber of my being, a fire inside me Burning deep Waiting to be put out Turned to ice, turned to hate But you stand so close sometimes A bittersweet longing In those non-existent touches Out of your grasp Dangerously poisoning Are our little games We try to ignore those locked gazes Those outreached hands Those distorted thoughts That we become lost in Because you take it so freely All of it, every last bit In one bite In one moment in time Taking what was always yours to begin with Coping with the loss of my being The blood loss The mind aching regiment of your face Of your eyes Of that smile that makes my day Diabolical are we Caught in our own web Randomly weaved When will it end? This heartache Tell me I entreat Tell me, please When will it end? This thing Say when Say now My knees are about to give out When will it end? These memories These stolen moments These horrible mistakes Tell me, please I beg you Because I’m about to give up I need you ….........to tell me Please Put me out of my misery Tell me how long I have to wait Tell me it needs to end right now So late Tell me, love, tell me When will it end? Say it Please, say it Say now Say it ends now
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82
Shivering in the wet air, Grasping to the last of the pink, fragrant petals for whatever warmth they may provide – Rain runs over the soft, moistened bark And falls off in sheets. The wind tousles outreached branches, And sighing, it waits For the sun to bring warmth once more.
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Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 9:46 PM UTC
Magnolia in an April Storm
I just wish that my heart wasn't a star Still shining bright to those that see it But dead millions of years ago Something to be wisheded upon In the careless, childish folly of daily life Such as making wishes Pointless beacons of unrequited hope That drives us as souls to the brink of sanity And for some, such as the wanderer that I am It drives us over that invisible boundary And banishes us to an unfathomable pit This pit, generalized as depression, insanity Is seen with similarity amongst pits Yet no pit is equal to another Each is unique, special to and hated by its owner Yet it is seemingly inescapable And thus loved from necessity And those who pass us by want to help Offer a hand to pull us from the pit But every outreached hand reaches a little deeper And the abyss of life likewise deepens Until you have no choice but to fill it And filling such a whole is no simple task First a pail of confidence is added And then several more of momentum As the hole begins to fill a hunger to heal forms Where you overemphasize the process And forget the reason Thus the devilish being opens its jaws And swallows every pail you have placed upon it And mistakes your action for hope And once more deepens exponentially So here I lay, contemplating the treachery That my life has slowly devolved into And I have to question to myself Do the stars in the sky hang so low Because they feel the death of their brother inside me?
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Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
Unabridged, Unrefined Thoughts
A  night time blue Playing tricks on my tongue With the raspy echo of breath, Turning with my cheek and into It's nose again. A shallow hymn of loneliness Satisfies my heavy head. Heavy with a day's desire Giving triumph to the night For in the night, I die again. I close my eyes My heavy eyes Right to the end of time. But As any time It's time again For might to open wide. As each lash upon each lid Had swollen arms Outreached for decay, A brightened abyss Of rightfulness Leaks forward to the day.
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Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
Synchronicity.
Red dot adjacent the center star Accelerating towards my hands Outreached as if expecting rainfall To be decorated in charred debris As consciousness ascends somewhere Cradled in slumbers warm embrace Blowing kisses unto my face Visions of a dim lit peaceful place Where I did once forget my grace But took it back with a hasty pace In time to witness obliteration As that dot did decimate Crashing into the blue and green Orbiting rock around the center star Now finding himself much more lonesome
0
Jun 6, 2021
Jun 6, 2021 at 3:20 AM UTC
Apocalypse
Beguiling Would you like to know the picture God carries of you first fired in his imagination then bathed in light And the final element water I know the power fire has to loosen the quiet tongue the flame dances and Leaps your mind and imagination falls in step recall marches in with abundant expansive dialogue the More you talk the more thoughts rush in as where the final viewing is in the clearest pure water at first You don’t expect your change of mood when you approach any size of water it can be just a pool or a Tremendous lake and more favorable is the small setting with water present a peace will descend like Misty silk it bellows out and gently descends engulfing you through this silky sheen you are the supreme Vision of loveliness the male is never more handsome the woman is never more beautiful can it be any Different to look upon a face through green sea colors that occur when the sun shines through the Rolling wave’s silkiness is nothing but the master’s delightful touch God sees his Daughters as true princesses of the mysterious desert and there was a reason that Valentino played Sheiks of the mysterious desert land it made him incomparable and the women stood on equal footing In character and looks spellbinding that is what you look like to God we love with all of our heart but his Capacity is so far greater than ours every church around the globe would be busting at the seams and More being constructed if people really knew God and his love that is the greatest cry of the human Heart is to be loved it took a master deceiver and the greatest hater of mankind to wreck the havoc that He has accomplished well why doesn’t God do more the artist sized it up when a broken bloodied savior Was shown on Calvary with his arms outreached with the underlining words he loved you this much You’re the whole of his existence there is master piece after master piece that hang in museums but They pale and are considered inferior botched art next to his longing pleading eyes that say come unto Me my treasure and know everlasting pleasure come and be seated around my throne your rightful Place that was always my plan for you only death and sorrow awaits those that turn a deaf ear to Perfect love
0
Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 10:23 PM UTC
Beguiling
Beguiling Would you like to know the picture God carries of you first fired in his imagination then bathed in light And the final element water I know the power fire has to loosen the quiet tongue the flame dances and Leaps your mind and imagination falls in step recall marches in with abundant expansive dialogue the More you talk the more thoughts rush in as where the final viewing is in the clearest pure water at first You don’t expect your change of mood when you approach any size of water it can be just a pool or a Tremendous lake and more favorable is the small setting with water present a peace will descend like Misty silk it bellows out and gently descends engulfing you through this silky sheen you are the supreme Vision of loveliness the male is never more handsome the woman is never more beautiful can it be any Different to look upon a face through green sea colors that occur when the sun shines through the Rolling wave’s silkiness is nothing but the master’s delightful touch God sees his Daughters as true princesses of the mysterious desert and there was a reason that Valentino played Sheiks of the mysterious desert land it made him incomparable and the women stood on equal footing In character and looks spellbinding that is what you look like to God we love with all of our heart but his Capacity is so far greater than ours every church around the globe would be busting at the seams and More being constructed if people really knew God and his love that is the greatest cry of the human Heart is to be loved it took a master deceiver and the greatest hater of mankind to wreck the havoc that He has accomplished well why doesn’t God do more the artist sized it up when a broken bloodied savior Was shown on Calvary with his arms outreached with the underlining words he loved you this much You’re the whole of his existence there is master piece after master piece that hang in museums but They pale and are considered inferior botched art next to his longing pleading eyes that say come unto Me my treasure and know everlasting pleasure come and be seated around my throne your rightful Place that was always my plan for you only death and sorrow awaits those that turn a deaf ear to Perfect love
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24
A gagged mouth screams mindfully in pain. An outreached hand ****** to grasp air. It mumbles and yells to the self imposed chain. Veil of joy, Depths of despair. A fisherman watches, her mast crest the Earth. A flower watches her buzz by. Tears disparage pain, void of her worth. Absent of reason, They wither and die. Once again, Alone.
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Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 1:09 PM UTC
Chains of Imposition
amusement park rides are safe the sheer force keeps you from falling out roller coasters tilting you side to side not quite upsidedown but almost I'm trying hard on a playground swing to go over the top but just keep falling back to earth ******* gravity in between the trip and the crash is the fall That's when I think of you when my hands are outreached My feet are skidding I'm trying not to eat **** but there's no guarantee because clumsy people fall a lot Maybe I haven't landed in love but I sure am falling
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May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
Landed Love
I'm not just someone who time-after-time ***** things up. I honestly believe I wrote the book on it. And my book is filled with stories of how I, no one else, single-handedly messed up everything I could have had. I've messed a whole lot of things up in my life. And I regret it all. And lately, I've been thinking, About all that I've done wrong. It's been weighing on my mind like an anvil. And also on my heart. I've done myself wrong, I've done school wrong, But most importantly, I've done others wrong. I've neglected outreached hands that could have been my lifelines. I've missed opportunities that could have been my successes. I've thrown away friends that could have been my family. But above all else, I've missed the chances to have the things I want most in my life, and I have no one to blame but myself. And honestly, I have no idea why. I've had everything that I have ever wanted right in the palm of my hand. Everything I ever wanted was reaching its hand out to me... And I ****** it up. And now, here I am writing another poem about the things I could've had, Instead of enjoying them myself. If I could just have one wish in life, One more opportunity, I would want to go back and fix it all, Go back to those moments, Go back to those days, Go back to the hospitals, Go back to the parks, Go back to the rehab centers, Go back to those precious moments, And not **** things up. Because if only I could just go back, Maybe I'd have better stories to tell.
0
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 1:45 AM UTC
I've Written 1000 Apologies, Disguised as Poems
there's one thousand thousand leaves beautiful in infancy from outreached arms bottlegreen glass where clearly what we were was luminous naive and happy and the burn to follow sanguine crimson alight throughout my mind like feathers through fireworks a great cheer and then naught and still and sleep and white and once again your arms reaching still cold now the little lights all gone robed in muted monochrome the little lights all gone please don't forget me.
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Jan 20, 2012
Jan 20, 2012 at 9:59 PM UTC
the thousand leaves
Slowly, Shaky on my feet, like a child I was practically a child, When you found me. Shaped me, molded me as clay Your fingerprints, careful, intentional Slowly, They made my masterpiece, My words, my life, my soul Yours. But here I am alone, Knocky knees, pale cheeks, Chapped lips and aching ribs What am I to do with this control? Slowly, The world turns, still. My own is shattered. It lies on the glittering pavement Where I fall to my knees, With handfuls of my hair and racketing sobs, Screaming with the anger, the hurt, the ache Drawing all the attention I wished I'd drawn before A cry for help, an outreached, black-veined hand Though all in my mind, Because I walk past, on the pavement, And I walk home. Slowly, I breathe. I blink, my eyes dry. I've cried every tear I can cry For you, or really, For myself. What's left is a battered, brittle, brackish soul And a body in upset.
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Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 12:37 AM UTC
Slowly
Rich Grief, as Gold, a priceless weight. Your love has reached the Pearly Gate. The Lords forgiving, outreached hand, Guides her to the promised land. This broken heart, that haunts your soul, That keeps your "Self" from being whole, Will surely never mend complete. Yet, you should not concede defeat, For in Gods ***** rests relief. Your souls touched love, however brief. The fleeting moments were well spent. Your time together heaven sent. Let go the guilt, release the tears. The days will fly, as will the years. Then once again the joy will be The driving force that sets you free. JMA
0
Oct 21, 2011
Oct 21, 2011 at 6:52 AM UTC
Rich Grief
I was doing so well! That's what the screams in my head screeched as I wept. I have been honest and open regardless of my demons that crept. I've bargained and plead with great courage and might, to accept loving allies and friends in my fight. I have held it together, striking fears in the face, Stood tall with arms outreached though I felt running in place. It took one head-on heartfelt conversation, for my triumphant steps forward morphed to tormented contemplation. Thousands of words streamed into my head, I need to release the storms brewing or my soul be dead. I sat at my piano, eyes closed letting my flow take flight, I can't go another day with the hauntings of sleepless night... I played, and cried, as slowly the voices subside... And it hit me... **** this, grab a spoon, where's the nutella?! ...And to all a good night!
0
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 3:06 AM UTC
Midnight Consoling
Lungs outlined with blue feathers Ready to take off and fly My fingertips like silk Are incapable of holding on to anything For too long What can you hold against me? Ghost stories I should've never shared? Or that every time I dream out loud I always seem to miss your outreached hand What can you hold against me? Besides this ache in every bone That whispers to my soul To let go for once, and try flying alone
0
Feb 16, 2022
Feb 16, 2022 at 12:31 PM UTC
Feathers
The cape hung over A patriotic Dover Red and white, Blue lit might. Quite the sight When taking to flight Confined to the prison Of limitless vision A witness to distant lands Military stands Saw outreached hands And all their demands Late one day Came heavy dismay A man found finality Another, reality Beyond speech Things out of his reach The feeding lines hung From chorus’ sung Distant hope transgressed Faded dismay repressed Luxury had seeped in Through sun-spotted skin Morality appeared Though initially revered Some cheered Others sneered Seemed to be feared How horribly weird
0
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
Gut und Böse
An outreached hand to the depths of despair A foreign warmth to thaw the frozen stare The slumber breaks, the recluse now aware You are there Like moth to flame, a worship in bloom Fixated. Yearning for your time to consume All the darkness faded, that was to presume Were it not for the demons that invaded the room Stars aligned, brought within proximity Hearts conspired, connected by affinity Wired to your soul, craving for continuity Golden opportunity squandered by insecurity When the demons resort to intimidation How can a fragile soul combat such confrontation? High and mighty, they spoke of salvation Here I crumbled in the wake of their devastation All those nights awake, body numb, ever so tired Endlessly looping what fate had conspired Wishing for the strength that the moment required All hopes and dreams once again expired Forgotten, left to bleed along with time Escaping the depths, an excruciating climb Emerged, it’s clear that your path became sublime Demons, for her sake I thank your crime As my world was left to burn You danced without concern The void still whispers, aching to return But memory arms me well to spurn What might've been keeps me obsessing I'd swear it's different now, but I'm just guessing All I know is, though it's distressing This curse of mine was your blessing.
0
May 26, 2025
May 26, 2025 at 6:11 AM UTC
Assyl
*Dams give way, and women drown. If you’re going to fall then make it count. Don’t just slip but dive deep down, into the depths of hell, where hollow truth is found.* You should have seen me then when my hair was brushing the sky. Lesser men strained their necks just trying to see that high. So I made them medicine because I was that kind of guy. Yes, I slept soundly in my nightly bed of lies I broke bread with the poor and took drinks with the rich. Some said I gave too much but I could never resist an outreached hand and the implications in it. Little did I know how palm can grow to fist Then it started to change; that god forsaken splash, too late, too cold, I froze and turned my back. Mirrors haunted my head long after the fact, and the trumpets that praised me changed keys to laughs So I tried to plug my gaps like a doomed sailor fighting the sea, with women and with whiskey then **** and ecstasy. I filled those women’s hearts and left them empty, but that’s of no concern when I live for only me. I tried to burn the town with my wicked words and ways, but I was still given praise for my false yesterdays. Sticking to the straight and arrow had led me astray. So I set sail for better shores where all life is grey. So now I haunt this bar the Pope of Little Mexico. I make rain with my tongue just to make the Nausea grow. I flew with the Eagles now I’ve fallen down so low. Things have never been better I have found my heart’s true home *Dams give way, and women drown. If you’re going to fall then make it count. Don’t just slip but dive deep down, into the depths of hell, where hollow truth is found.*
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Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
The Fall
*Dams give way, and women drown. If you’re going to fall then make it count. Don’t just slip but dive deep down, into the depths of hell, where hollow truth is found.* You should have seen me then when my hair was brushing the sky. Lesser men strained their necks just trying to see that high. So I made them medicine because I was that kind of guy. Yes, I slept soundly in my nightly bed of lies I broke bread with the poor and took drinks with the rich. Some said I gave too much but I could never resist an outreached hand and the implications in it. Little did I know how palm can grow to fist Then it started to change; that god forsaken splash, too late, too cold, I froze and turned my back. Mirrors haunted my head long after the fact, and the trumpets that praised me changed keys to laughs So I tried to plug my gaps like a doomed sailor fighting the sea, with women and with whiskey then **** and ecstasy. I filled those women’s hearts and left them empty, but that’s of no concern when I live for only me. I tried to burn the town with my wicked words and ways, but I was still given praise for my false yesterdays. Sticking to the straight and arrow had led me astray. So I set sail for better shores where all life is grey. So now I haunt this bar the Pope of Little Mexico. I make rain with my tongue just to make the Nausea grow. I flew with the Eagles now I’ve fallen down so low. Things have never been better I have found my heart’s true home *Dams give way, and women drown. If you’re going to fall then make it count. Don’t just slip but dive deep down, into the depths of hell, where hollow truth is found.*
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Lost and screaming, I gaze at the young child as it pulls on its mothers arms, She who is tired and weary attempts to calm the child, Heroic... but futile. The child wants a new lego set, and by the look on his mothers face it seems like he might get it. He knows not of the pain she felt when she brought him into this world. He knows not of the sacrifices, Nor the hardships. When he is older perhaps he will feel guilt. Or remorse. For now, he knows joy. Joy as his mother lifts down the set into his outreached arms like deliverance its self. I chuckle to myself, and sip my drink. Out of the corner of my eye I see another small child, Standing alone amongst a sea of strangers. She is looking around, confused at first, Then her gaze grows more frantic as the moments pass. Her lip begins to quiver, and a small diamond falls down her cheek. She does not cry. She does not move. Of course she is not aware that her mother is merely feet away browsing the aisles, but to her... to her she is lost. Lost to all those around her. Invisible and alone. Of course this only lasts for a few moments until her mother returns with open arms and and a warm smile. I pay for my drink and stand up to leave. In many ways I relate to the children. Constantly grasping for something new. Unheard of, exciting. Seeking guidance and protection, Respite from the flow of life.
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Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC
Lost and Screaming