"partway" poems
partway along the path that all must tread
wrong turning taken in the dusk and muck
no hope to find the proper road ahead
so easy then to say that truth had fled
give up on life along with all my luck
partway along the path that all must tread
while many voices echo no words said
could quite convey how badly one was stuck
no hope to find the proper road ahead
darkness around the human world abed
so easy then the mortal form to shuck
partway along the path that all must tread
where none could scream from simple weight of dread
no light could come from passing car or truck
no hope to find the proper road ahead
the only message was you must fall dead
the world goes on no one will give a ****
partway along the path that all must tread
no hope to find the proper road ahead
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 10:01 AM UTC
you read those books where they build girl angels in laboratories
who fall in love with lonely boys.
you like hearing your poems
read back to you in english accents
and you like your accents
licking on your poems
because, if I recall, you’re heart-broken
--no I haven’t forgotten,
yes I remember, you were the
curvaceous queen of unskinned knees;
I was ****** in jeans.
you got partway through Swann’s Way,
but gave up last November,
when I was hitting walls hard.
the last words you read were the last
on your mind, “Happiness is beneficial for the body--”
and you stopped, that was fine enough
for a tattoo. (happy needle,
breast imbrue)
Well grief taught me, grief bought me,
and I was hitting walls hard.
But straight back for you, to boys kissing boys
and you’re too old for toys and
you think it’s pathetic
how girls go to get it
with silicon and plastic
oh go on, tell me how
you’re a heart-breaker, ha,
because you showed them
your ******* like an angel.
you like to remind me how skinny you are now,
and you still love to dance.
There is no equivalent factory making boy angels.
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 10:47 PM UTC
exhaling the faith i had
in myself is nightly
neither of us allow
conversation to linger
and it's sickening
we're blindly pulling at
bedsheets for answers
neither of us want to acknowledge
i don't know what's happening
each day is different,
i can't tell if my unease
is with the assumptions
or with myself
i think i know what you want
(at least partway)
but my mind wants to resist
losing interest in fingertips and
the mismatched cues
your body tells me you
need the closeness
mine is afraid
of taking this further
i don't want this to become
another bad joke, laughing
in hindsight but doubting
my intentions, i just don't
know myself well enough
and every time i mention
i am unsure, you explain
that you can't tell nights apart
texts at midnight
with questionable wording -
we have to be alone for this
to work out like you'd expect
but at this point all i feel
is a little bit sick and somewhat
concerned for your sake
because i can't be a rock for you
i am overwhelmingly sorry
there's something different
about this time for me
something goes through me
that i cannot interpret
you told me that you try
to live life to the fullest
because you might not have
the fullness that others get from living
i almost wish you hadn't told me
because my eyes start to fill
when i think about you and
i wish i knew what to say
i know what it's like to hurt
so fully and deeply, to doubt
your days and know your clock
to be shorter than some
and to have to pull it together regardless
i want to tell you so badly
that i'm scared too,
that there's so much more
than what i've told you
i think i'm afraid that
we're too much alike
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 1:59 PM UTC
i am not a book
that you can read partway,
set down
for however long you choose
and come back to the story
right where you left off.
i am not a photograph
that you can put in a book,
store on a shelf
until you remember that it’s there
and relive the partly faded
memory from before.
i am not a cup of coffee
that you can forget about in the morning,
leave on the table
until you’re done ******* your wife
and stick in the microwave
to heat back up.
i am a woman
that you can wake up and touch,
you can love
until it all falls to dust
because i’m all or nothing,
so pick a side.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 12:27 AM UTC
Bait
Swinging
Back
And
Fourth
Like
A Noose
Why Do I
Take It?
...Partway...
Is It The Jump?
Batting Practice
For A Desire?
Who Knew
It would Be Me
To Throw
The Life Line
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 8:18 PM UTC
recklessly but partway honest
careful with the pointed things
shining brighter light upon this
devil with angelic wings
broken (once) a promise
once imperative to keep
to feel so free in honesty
will sing us both to sleep
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
i would like to watch your heart beat
and your chest move up and down
as the breath that is partway mine
flows in and out of you
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
In the mind of man
is the divinity's dwelling place.
The sanctuary where our
life is molded and patterned,
our thoughts formed either
for good or destruction.
Our lives roadmap lights
our partway into the divine will
and purpose for constructive living.
With the divine helpful hands,
we willed our lives with might,
Not of our strength,
but the inner leading of the almighty.
For those who listen to
the unexplainable inner call
within their consciousness,
the divine healing elixir
of life is unleashed,
their lives becomes
a noble one full of grace,
for their obedience links
them to the miraculous.
They feel the pains of life,
and of death,
the pain of love,
and of hate,
the pain of knowing too much,
and lack of knowledge,
pain of being sensitive,
and insensitive,
pain of having,
and of lack,
more than their peers,
for that is the cross they bear
of being who they are
in the scheme of things prepared
for only those who walk in the
part of the divine Iliad.
No complaints are needed
for their end are assured.
Answer that call now.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
I dont care
and I dont want to
that anything and everything i say
to you may seem cliche
I'm in love
I'm so in love
and your eyes
your bright blue eyes
there's passion that I feel from them
and something I despise
every other day I feel a different way
I want you
I can't stand you
and I need your eyes of blue...
there's a passion, yes, a passion
to kiss
an itch to kiss
an urge to kiss
to look at you
to breathe and taste with you
my insides are spilling
all over you and I
every time I see you
or feel your eyes on mine
can you feel them?
can you feel the need to kiss you
the need that expresses itself as an emotion unparalleled by anything else felt by a human
the one thing I know for sure we were born to feel
love
you don't want mine though.
You still love me
but not how I love you.
and you still hold me
but not how I want you too.
it's torturous and wonderful
to love a friend
I see things in you that I'd never want a lover to share
but I'm intrigued because you've let me in
if only partway
you see through me
but not enough to know
that I'm still pretending not to love you
that I didn't let go when I said so
did you really believe me?
are you afraid to love me?
just give me one kiss.
I'll show you how to love me...not that you need to learn
you do it everyday
and you don't even know.
I love you by the way...
and still you let it go
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 11:29 PM UTC
Tried drowning in some water
One near where I was raised
Hoping that the bottom
Would take my life
But partway through the mercy
The pain was far too great
And I thought of all
The finer ways to die
Kicked and clawed at the abyss
Desperate for the surface
Begging for the heavens
For air to breathe
At some point all I wanted
Was to ******* end this
Yet after all this time
Death hasn't come for me
-
by Aleksander Mielnikow | Alek the Poet
Dec 13, 2019
Dec 13, 2019 at 4:23 PM UTC