"pinioned" poems
# *I hadn’t meant to spy
just an evening’s walk along the beach
knowing that things are sometimes strewn there after storms
between a gust of wind—a break in clouds
Coming upon moonlight
gleaming on wet teenage backs
Two—
by a leaning erosion fence
fondling the last discoveries of childhood
fumbling with the barriers of her bikini
behind the erosion fence
out of sight and forbidding
Breeding like sea grass by rhizomes
prowling that neck, those *******
Gasping! Warring!
for the land of white warmth below their tans
His hands grip, lift, position, insist
By such undertow
mouths and hips pinioned in disbelief...
where they cannot be seen
two half-rounds in rhythm – struggle in the surge of being
as the surf binds them in refrains
about the ankles* #
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 9:48 PM UTC
I watched you today;
I admired your strutting decadence
Unruly, dishevelled bird of jagged honesty
Ruffled, disrespectful feathers that shine
And reflect your begging, squawking call
You and four of your friends,
Dragged down a helpless potato I
Left out for you;
Pinioned it to the ground
With strutted abandon
Oh bird much maligned;
Bird of ungainly beauty
Hobo, derelict, winged, caller
When you murmur the
Shaking stirred skies
With your flocks,
The noise black swirled and reckless
Never fails to make us catch our breath
That such flock - formed beauty could come
From a ragged kingdom call
Makes my own wings;
Take Flight
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 6:01 PM UTC
An ode to the raggedy starling
I watched you today;
I admired your strutting decadence
Unruly, dishevelled bird of jagged honesty
Ruffled, disrespectful feathers that shine
And reflect your begging, squawking call
You and four of your friends,
Dragged down a helpless potato I
Left out for you;
Pinioned it to the ground
With strutted abandon
Oh bird much maligned;
Bird of ungainly beauty
Hobo, derelict, winged, caller
When you murmur the
Shaking stirred skies
With your flocks,
The noise black swirled and reckless
Never fails to make us catch our breath
That such flock - formed beauty could come
From a ragged kingdom call
Makes my own wings;
Take Flight
Just written :-)
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC
This peace you offer
Pinioned prayers and platitudes
Scry in the mercury shattered
Your brittle whispers snap in the rarified air
This madness is thunder at the back of my throat
Ragged and storm weary
I tread water in your wake
Spin my tahrihim and trim the fringe
I am the terminus of fragile breath
Falling away from you
Benedicimus Deum meum adventum et egrediente
There is solace in the blind blue moments
Let me surrender
To the baptism of despair
The upwelling catechism of deliquescence
Souls fall clutching the flesh
Gasping for one more shredding dream
Fill the spinnaker and set sail
I am no longer a seaworthy vessel
This tethered hope you offer
Stinging nettles in my mouth
On flitting wings
Is the drone of hornets in my hair
I crave
Oblivion
And you are bound to your promise
It is my free will
To let go...
06/12/12
TL Boehm
God bless my coming and my going out
melt away/decay
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
I buried them in a shallow grave
outside the sunroom where their cage hung
rain washed their bones into a deep earth cellar
Where I descend by night with my lone candle
to find them fixed in strata, yet not fixed
scaled claws striking Jurassic dragonflies
*My shadow flickers and dissolves
as I sit at the sunroom desk
Tiny scaled claws strike my head
Pinioned dervishes scold:
My suit of black and white feathers
my smooth hands and my scientist's smirk
my two-finger typing and opposable thumbs
my missing wings and manifesting teeth*
We dinosaurs live on, incantations of ancestral rebirth
templates used, discarded, and used again
as our sphere cycles on, now warming, now cooling
the uniforms change, the costumes evolve
but the sudden-death scrimmage is eternal.
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 1:52 PM UTC
The soothsayer only smiles and whispers,
stays anticipation and decays til you kiss her.
Leaning in:
Posture is, as much as
a broken back,
lacking.
Caught,
stiff and bare,
in a stare.
"I'm not acting,"
I'm retracting my opinions
backtrack to begin again.
Pinioned by inclusion;
on the right foot, left
to my conclusions.
If it's a game,
then i'm losin'.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 2:31 PM UTC
A barren home,
but not of things,
where silence wanders
curiously
down the empty halls.
"Who's there?"
She stands to peek
through door ajar
at the dust ::BOOM::
on the floor. ::BOOM::
Nothing's stirred
and all's in place
and all is still
but subject’s face:
fieldstone hues
and wrinkles too.
A desol't eve
in fickle blue,
she’s marching dusk
with throated heart.
Purpled cirri
and pinholes white
high above her
stalwart ceiling.
Shunted thought.
Listless thunder.
Turn on heel
to pinioned sleep;
a reeling sanct,
an effete lover.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 10:11 AM UTC
A sadness has come over me
As I pass this corner bye,
A junction on the highway,
A lonely cobalt sky.
A sodden pale blue teddy bear
Stands pinioned to a cross
And the glassy glint in Teddy’s eyes
Transfix a sense of loss.
The traffic whizzes past this point
Most people fail to see
The sadness manifested
In his glassy stare at me.
The sadness of a lost young soul
Who failed to take the bend,
Who with his motor cycle crash
Did meet his Maker’s end.
I know not why he died so young,
I know not why he sped.
But know I do, the child like love
He felt for his blue Ted.
The sadness of a pale blue Ted
When pinioned to a cross
Stands sodden on a lonely road
Invoking tears of loss.
Marshalg
At Blue Ted Corner
Highway 20
Taranaki
14 August 2012
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 12:27 AM UTC
I watched the paper
soak up the ink
as it blotched
breast strokes
across the page...
suddenly,
street bound
jazz hounds
legs,
pinioned
to pavement,
hand signals
of July scroll by,
a memory strolls
in reverse as a
name scrawled contra
across wheat covered
hills...returned to me
chaotic,
lovely.
A single day
took it's light
from the crayon
colored buildings
laughter ran out
from a beautiful city
where the seagulls
brushed it's wings
against my cheek
like lovers once
embraced
arm in arm,
long before
infancy.
A memory plucked
from the eye of
golden Roses
littering the street
in irradiant petals
like pieces
of shattered
poetry
in the blood
of a waxing
poet.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC
These breathless moments
Dreams flutter boundless
Pinioned on stellar winds
Constellations rise in indigo eyes
And I pull in spinning
Euphoric aspirations glow
In vertigo as the accretion heats
Birthing a new universe
I am astounded by the light
Interminable epochs
Found me comatose
At the divination point
The juncture of the void and life
I dance the staccato steps of departure
Memory of thin skin disappears
Beatific vision shimmers
In glistened entreaties
Lacrimae sunt arma femina.
Console me with forever
The emulation of flight defines me
Zenith in your twilight skies
On Heaven's breath I rise
*tears are the weapons of woman
TL Boehm
2/22/08
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
Why am I always bereft of the thing that I seek the most?
I always seek a willing soul
A soul who would entreat my own
And I the same
I, the slave of my nerves
A slave to the pulsations of my skin
The very thing I’ve always hated
I want hate
I want to hate myself
I want inspiration
That comes from the hate that flows
So freely from my finger tips
So beautiful a thing that passes by
So ignorant of what I could say
What I could appeal to
What drunken emotions accentuated
By the feelings of night
My pointless words
My sickened intellect
What I perceive as truth and the right way
I’m sorry to everyone
All those with the displeasure
Of hearing my obtuse
Faked heart, faked mind
I’m sorry
But I’m not authentic
I’m a replica
I’m not genuine
I’m a thing so pinioned around
The thought of ***
It clouds everything else
I want this false notion of love
I want a distraction
Something that keeps me away
From the emptiness of existence
I don’t want to face it alone
There has to be someone who thinks my skin worthy
There has to be an individual
I didn’t trick
Someone with
The very fantasy of love within them
Someone as foolish as me
With fake blood pulsating through their heart
Like me
Someone with the raw, acknowledged beat of lust
Flowing through those impermanent veins
Like the worthlessness
Extending from every extremity
Nothing is right
There is no light
Goodness has gone beyond me
Genuine Morality
Only the flame of passion
Ebbs in my matter
Not that story
Not that fantasy
Only a lie
One I can’t even abuse
Everyone is gone
I feel like life
Is but staring into a mirror:
Nothingness
Abstraction
Distance
Let this failure,
This over interpretation of a life
Die in the obscurity
Of the night Time
Good night all
Enjoy your lives
If only I could distract myself
From the awful reality
Like you
I want to be like you
Where life has meaning
Like action has sway
I am nothing
And never will be.
If only love could find me.
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 11:20 AM UTC
Shifting red-wine shadows
pinioned against your hand.
This will end badly.
Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 5:56 PM UTC
starlit spectre
on crescent thoughts descend
the lonesome days I spend
apparitions disappear in daylight
Like whispered promises
of friends
celestial solace
nocturne's daydream
on pinioned wing visions stream
the sparkled rush of lovers hands
cross silvered sands
mercurial stream
Cast away imagination
Set to flight in ravened skies
the ghost of hope now flies
shh don't wake me
to the harsh light
I despise.....
TLBoehm
032808
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 5:05 PM UTC
tranquil pain holds this
facade
pinioned to a past that never was.
when i awoke this morning
were you there?
or were you gone
living your life without me
Sep 2, 2011
Sep 2, 2011 at 1:00 AM UTC
No sound disturbs
The cloud curled steeps of sea green pines
whose clinging oceanic thoughts
are freed, released from malted slopes.
Respired slow , the sallow spirals
herd to high, still, corrugations,
Their purse; a billion brooches
For their keep.
And, then a Raven
Barks its gloat across the drab pavilions
A dauntless hermit sculls away,
on myth buoyed strokes, to beat the bounds.
Carried from the pinioned ridge
away to secret monasteries.
Climbing from embroidered
oriental looms of Beech
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 12:12 AM UTC
When the leaves fall
and cover the concrete
with their daring script,
we pause to read their asemic form,
a kind of language universal lodged
deep in our unconscious minds.
With curve and line,
join and stem,
these nothing words reform
again with each gust of wind.
Or pinioned by grass and rain
these natural letters
in the language of leaves
remain - in situ -
and slowly curl and colour,
shimmer with dew,
glisten in sunlight, revealing
their inscription, thus:
*O friend whoe’er you are
I feel through every leaf
The pressure of your hand,
Which I return,
And thus upon our journey
Linked together, let us go.*
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
Find me,
I'm lost in the whorls of a faceless crowd
Like a solitary bubble ; a lonesome cloud
I'm tossed by the froth of the azure waves;
By the wanton breeze, that rants and raves
I've stared at destiny's elusive face
Locked eyes with its million dimensions
But I cannot find myself ,
And I cannot find my place
So find me, Oh! find me,
For the map of my life, i cannot comprehend
I am lost, so find me
Find me and be my friend.
Tell me,
My winsome dreams are for real.
My honey-scented , rose coloured dreams;
And all wounds of past, time will heal
By the elixir of its ever flowing stream.
In whispers , like the swish of a seraph's wings
Like a wandering minstrel ; Be the one
To sing to me of all joyful things
Of hopes redeemed and battles won
So tell me, Oh! tell me
Sweet symphony to my silence lend.
I am listening , so tell me.
Tell me, and be my friend
Save me,
There are demons inside my head
In murky shadows of native fears.
From cold dark dungeons, I fear to tread
Its all in the caverns of my mind, it appears.
But it brings me down,
And I am pinioned by its chains
Neck deep in darkness all around
Marooned in uncharted terrains
So save me, oh! save me
Be a beacon of my path, God sent
I am ambushed, so save me.
Save me, and be my friend.
Like a willow in the midst of a wilderness untamed
I'm swaying to the tempest, in a pagan trance
Like the rise and fall of kingdoms unnamed
Like billows in ever shifting psychedelic stance
Find me, make me rise, I want to shine
Tell me of miracles I can yield , I want to shine
Be my stalwart sentry , lest my hopes descend
And be my friend , be my friend.
(2008)
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
Throbbing twinge
To blinding light
Doubling over
Pinioned, you'll hover
For a moment
The trap is set
All it takes is a tiny misstep
Just an inch
And the bone and sinew
Unhinge
...
Like a snubbed lover
Crippling and crumpling
My very form
To this spot on the pavement
Where I squirm comically
Attempting to right myself
Useless.
I resolve to keep moving
Grit teeth
Eyes squeezed shut
The elusive sigh of relaxation
Seems like a long forgotten myth
Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 10:05 AM UTC
Your brand new heart I do not need
Your threads don't hold me down
Your needle doesn't pierce my scales
Those days never to be found.
Two fallen angels, dancing
On wings of ebony
Embraced in a death spiral
Entwined, they're never free.
As feathers fall, resentment calls
They're wings are pinioned now,
You can't fly? I can't fly.
I've never known how...
..to safely shake this dragon
That's been nipping at your thigh,
A thousand miles have flown so fast
In the blinking of an eye.
And roaring winds grow louder
As we grow farther from mother sun
A hail of fire smoldering,
She whispers "Run, my children, run"
Scar for scar, bruise for bruise
They plummet to the earth
The ground is getting closer,
It's time for a rebirth
Warm blood has splattered both our eyes
From each others missing wings
We're flapping numbly, falling dumbly
As we give into these things..
Head first and tumbling faster
Engaged to this gravity
It's will it seems still holds their fate
As she rips their feathers free
He sawed at her ****** stubs
And she did the same for he
Drenched in each other's burgundy
Resemble devils, free.
Words and lines are rolling off his serpentine tongue,
falling upon deaf ears
It's only been mere seconds
but feels like neverending years.
But in the midst of all of this,
She hummed a song so sweet
A language dead, it has been said
It haunts my every dream.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC
La Luna lifts from the cosmic abyss
Pinioned in stellar skies
For a moment or two swept away by you
Sparkling life lit up in your eyes
Carry me away from anywhere
To that special hideaway called you and I
Cool Luna's fog sweeps round me
Spring night a bluer hue
You sitting there, soft breeze through your hair
Falling in love again with you
Take me away from the chaotic day
Lose my self in eyes so blue
I catch my breath and I
Close my eyes wish I could fly
As moments sweeping by
La Luna lifts in ebonyed sky
TL Boehm
050407
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 12:47 PM UTC
Perhaps its best we cannot sleep
That eyes burn
That fingers weep
In the morning, should we still blink
The breath returns
The feeling sinks
Under the noon, where dreams are cold
The chest will collapse
As memory folds
Before the sea, where light is frail
The arms will creak and wrap
Around the shallow pale
When favour leaves the lame and young
They will speak in toothless tone
They will pay to use their tongue
As statues lead the morning choir
The children all wear shoes of stone
For fear of seeing any higher
The willow bursts and spring combusts
Onto the row of newborn nimbus
A sight beyond our awe or disgust
The angels lift us off the ground
To the gilded cliff of old Olympus
Where heaven was murdered by one last sound
The stale sound repeated, and pounded with sour trembling rasp
The sun was defeated, retreating a coward with the angel's gasps
As they too were shot, ****** dry by leech with pinioned skin
Now lay in their rot, plucked and beached on shores of sin
O, the sound of horrid noon
And every lasting ache
Came from the hidden moon
Begging me to wake
Oct 17, 2020
Oct 17, 2020 at 11:16 AM UTC
A scarecrow dwells on the horizon
Such a lonely image of crucifixion
No ragged thieves surrounding
Sublimely frightening and beautiful
Observing this world’s unfolding
From the inside solitude of loneliness
Externally gazing at the moving distance
Tethered and shackled to lifelessness
Exposed to nature’s scorning passage
A victim of insignificant circumstance
This symbol of something miraculous
Sowing each souls fertile imagination
Harvesting it in the rags of the future
Fixed and pinioned to the present
The lonely ballerina on the landscape
Unmoved the world moves around it
Like a dancing figure on a music box.
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 1:36 PM UTC
(20 minute poetry)
Time becomes another line
that
sits deep upon my face
centrally located
suffocated by the mass
of
those who then would pass by me
without a single glance.
Each day strips off the day before
a peep show that I've seen and
in somewhat less than awe
I find I have to look.
People
pinioned by their lack of care
I know it
because
I've been there
never watched nor seen those
Inbetween
stepped over the cracks in
worn down steps,
let's hear it for the blind men
who can see
but are
unkind men
let's hear it for them
after all
aren't we those kind
men too?
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC
Red
Open Jeep
That raptured us to the bottom of
Cherokee Hill
Aunt Shirley’s
face, nails, her flip flops, elastic
band that
barely tamed
her whipping hair, weeping
bead work
my knee aflame
reopened on blacktop
only minutes
before sirens
split the sun ripe afternoon
Red
Bank
Baptist Church at the apex of a blind
curve
Beetle
helpless on its back, cans of
Bud
scattered
empties, some full ones
church key
perhaps
thrown clear with the passengers
blood
pooling
beneath the pinioned driver
everything
except the snow
white sheet I could not help
but imagine
drawn gently
over my astonished
fevered face.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 8:50 AM UTC
The cottage in the hollow,
It’s beams and rafters a rotting ship.
The walls are pinioned together,
With spiders' webs.
The two black gaping windows,
Reflect the sockets of souls.
Abandoned during the days,
When all time brought misery.
The creatures that inhabited here,
Bore every genus of distress.
Sleeping in their bed of filth,
With the same dream in collective misery.
Lost to an indifferent world,
Buried in an indifferent ground.
Mocked by indifferent words,
Forgotten by indifferent thoughts.
The Famine potato drills now waves of grass,
Left to the wandering sheep.
Original human sin repeats itself in every form,
Somewhere, Eternally, to The Unkown.
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC