"pitfall" poems
You can’t have your cake and eat it too. Not for long, anyway. Cake doesn’t settle well when it’s all you’ve had to eat. It’ll churn like butter inside you, and creep up your throat to project like a cannon, barreling through a wall. Cake won’t sit right with you anymore. At the mere mention of cake, your insides will crawl with disgust and an association of icing will replace your taste buds with ***** You will never be able to enjoy cake—at parties, as a delicacy, with ice cream—because you got greedy and wanted to eat your cake first rather than save it for such an occasion. Now all the different kinds of cake you fantasized about trying—black velvet, coffee cake, buttercream pound cake—will only be a reminder of your pitfall that led you to make yourself sick with desire, for cake. You can’t get the icing off your tongue, the smell of batter baking has festered in your nostrils wired to the pungent taste of red from between your teeth. But it’s all you can think of when you’ve been wronged by your favorite dessert. What sort of chemical reaction in the bowels of your stomach caused all of this sorrow? What rejected the cake? Your body has a way of telling you things—we should listen more. Cake is not sustenance, it has no value as a nutritious food. It doesn’t help, only hurts.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
Pixelated space,
Unspace,
Speed of the slow down-
Timeout.
Automatic space,
Hyppereal pace,
Nonspace,
Pixelated room,
In an 8-bit mansion
Mario and Princess
Zelda and Princess
Platform Romance
Pitfall jumping
space to space
Electromagnetic Consciousness
Conscience and Love
Compassion for the pixels
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
I often fall into this trap.
This trap of seeing things that other people have and thinking I should have those things too.
The trap of inadequacy as opportunities seem to bypass me.
I sink into this pitfall of perceptions that scream to me how I should look, behave, what I should have, and how I should BE.
All of it being mostly lies and at best misconceptions.
I had to learn to accept acceptance,
That I am who I am meant to be.
Outside influence no longer clouds my thought, and I begin to enjoy life as I step out of a place between being too critical of the past, and too engrossed in the future.
The fact that I am here is evidence enough that there is a place and a purpose to my destiny.
I am here because this is where I belong.
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 1:02 AM UTC
Peel my dystopian fruit,
the empty husk of my labor.
Abhor me again,
or still.
Fill my nostrils with hate,
a mate for my disgust.
Bleed in colors only dreamt,
secrets kept as seed for youth.
Drowning abjections,
pearls of wisdom kept in tight-lipped shells.
Smells of conspiracy and shame.
Is this what I was suppose to learn,
oh, wayward parents?
Is this what I was suppose to find,
destiny unkind?
And find it I did not,
I woke to it's rot.
Laying upon my shoddy pillow,
face the same as mine,
death in the eyes.
Yet, therein, still, is kindled
embers of lost fires.
Pitfall rituals discarded,
hard-hearted and fitful.
All for the glory of no glory.
Oct 13, 2011
Oct 13, 2011 at 1:44 PM UTC
he tickled me with love
i imagine
behind his merciless
IBM grin
sadistic chuckle
my grandfather loved me
built me a swing
a wooden airplane
gave me a bicycle
a cape to wear
he taught me pong and pitfall
wielding a brush-broom
handlebar-moustache
a favorite game of his was giving raspberries
testing limits
his iron fingers
wringing squeals of laughter sour
under breathless ribs
tear-eyed begging fits
his old white t-shirt
too small to hide his plump
hairy belly,
i'd tickled him there once
poked him where my cousins pointed
giggling
when the kick came
i felt it in the heart
more than the back of my knee
bent from the sudden
sneering force
when i asked him
years later
for a book from his dying bookshelf
he joked with a growl
the last emphysemic sentence i remember
he said to me
you gonna bring it back when you're done?
i remember
the rules of the tickle game
and love him back
for his sarcasm
firecrack generosity
.
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 10:00 AM UTC
The cold wind touched my skin and my body trembled
As you removed the last piece of my clothing
You also removed my eyeglasses and asked
"Can you see me?"
I slowly nod even everything was a blur
The curve in your lips says that you smiled upon seeing me naked
You started kissing me
And I stand still because it was my first kiss
and I don't know how to respond
Kissing. Deeper. Harder
I found myself craving for more
Faster. Stop. Breath
You asked me to close my eyes
But I didn't (because everything is blur without my eyeglasses)
Instead I put my feet on your waist
Then hugged you tightly
Mainly for support and to make sure I will not fall
Slowly our body collided
It was your trap, a sweet pitfall
Your hands all over me
touching every part of me
You stopped on my *******
and started fondling
one more caress and I totally fall
in your sinful trap
**** Lick. Mash
And I can't make you stop
No, I don't want you to stop
So wrong yet feels so good..
My body starts to shake
As you put your hands in between
Fingers in and out
I'm losing my mind
Fingers in and out
Faster. Breathless
Fingers in and out
Exploring every part of me
Which I don't let anybody see
I'm in ecstasy
Pain and pleasure
never felt this way before
Panting. Wanting
You drop to your knees
and position your head in between
You bury your face
and started to taste
Lick. Lick. Lick
You said I taste like heaven
So I was in heaven
Lick. Lick. Lick
Pain and pleasure
never felt this way before
But you're not yet done
And I don't want you to be done
You asked me again
"Can you see me?"
Again, I nod even you're just a shape in my vision
You lay me down
"wider"
I just stare into vagueness
Then I felt it
You pushed inside me
Deeper.
Pain and pleasure
Pain and pleasure
I'm losing control
With every ****** I can feel you all over me
As you bury yourself inside me
you also touch my heart
In and out. Harder. Deeper
Breathless. Wanting. Moaning
The world is spinning
"Can you see me?"
I finally answered
"No, but it's not important
as long as I feel you near me is enough"
I was staring at the shadow of him as I said the words
It was dark, only heartbeats and ****
I'm sure you touched my heart
But you said it's just my body
that's pain and pleasure, I guess
I thought you touched my heart
but as you said, you just touched my body
*I made love to you, but you just f_cked me
I thought it was love
Pleasure is all you see*
The morning comes
Knowing you won't be beside me
But still I looked around
To make sure that what happened was real
Yes, it is indeed real, you were real
For you left marks
crumpled bed sheet
red marks on my skin
and bloodstains..
I wore my eyeglasses
my vision becomes clear
But no specs can clear what happened
under the moonlight
*Innocence gone
Pain and pleasure
The euphoria of last night..*
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 12:20 AM UTC
Love
is the fount of abundance
of endless youth – which knows
only to give
but Lover, do you know
how to take?
to you she offers this-
the legacy of the Wait
employ it as you will –
as a bed of thorns or as a work of art
the choice is yours
when the current of time shall turn
your chance will come
to take from that fount all you want
but the journey is arduous
the climb-treacherous
many a pitfall may lie in your path
beware - stay steadfast!
pour all of yourself without hesitation
drop by drop into that sacrificial fire
as your ink depletes onto the pages
like Svaha meeting Agni
there will come to exist
the consummation of your innermost desires
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
23.01.2013
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
Some 'others'
and so-and-sos
don't want to be found.
They don't want to be
solid.
They don't want to:
dematerialize or to rematerialize or to manifest.
They don't want to come into being or exist.
Some so-and-sos are vagrant and delinquent.
Truant vagaries of brush strokes
mushrooming in the tresses of dresses.
Indeed, some 'others' wish to remain anonymous.
They reckon it’s reasonable
to protect a human standard.
Their privacy a prison of unwatchfulness-
the walls closing in like they did for Hans Solo,
Chewbacca, and the princess...
like Indiana Jones or some platform pitfall romance.
The 'others' wish to remain alone.
How else would they be 'others'?
Anonymity is the preferred state of 'others'
and so-and-sos.
It is their church confessional.
Safe harbor to their ******
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC
You are the Siren song to my ship
You sing in your sleep
Unaware of the pitfall that is your Beauty
Please do not trust me, for I am adrift
It’s been several years since I was grounded
And I am searching for anything to hold my foot steady
We are a lot alike you and I
Except it is you that rises in the East and sets in the West
While I am what follows
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 8:56 AM UTC
One of the men who I always did brawl,
He did the same with me when I did sprawl
Against him in and around the school wall.
But I loved him as he supported in my fall.
He always who remained strong in squall.
His whole life is full of things big and small.
He had great powers to captivate and enthrall,
Which he used to control us full of gall.
I had been with him for nine years all –
All years nine or ten he did scrawl.
Is he selfish? Is he loving to all?
Is he egoist? Is he supporting in fall?
Such questions harassed my pitfall.
I got all answers positively in parasol –
He held my hands whenever I did call.
Made me what I’m now and took out from pall.
He is my inspiration, he is my ideal doll;
He is my guru, he is my cynic for my troll.
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 6:45 AM UTC
dangerous pitfalls
I call it pitfalls
Because in,people fall
Engineers, doctors and lawyers
Have fallen and covered by the layers
The poor and the rich alike
Fallen and choked by spikes
We call it recreation
Which has caused fallen creation .
***** mark to leave
In how precious we live
Pitfall of drugs
In pleasure we get in a drag
Alcohols and bhang
****** and madrax
Cigarette and ****
All were traps
My worry is how they strap
And make people their prey
I fear going astray
And make a choice to pray
Calling ***** a *****
Thus pithfalls I evade.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
You've run the gauntlet,
The page dripped its course
Now all lies in wait,
Your softest reward
You've braved every peril
And hammered the stone
And driven each spike
With diligent force
You planned for each pitfall
And watched every night fall
And longed every day
For what resembled recourse
And now time is coming
An end to your running
An end to this guessing
This prophetic lore
To a pirate, his sea
And a bandit his mead
And to any man,
The love he is for
Your beauty hurriedly waiting,
Silence pleading and begging,
Sitting patiently bating
Far from broken shores
The end is behind you
You've done what you've meant to
Now go rest your head
On your lover, Lenore
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 6:59 AM UTC
How do I start
to tell people?
That you are
my favorite pitfall.
You've put me
into this battlefield,
without me
knowing all its hazards.
By-and-by
it's your presence,
that I cannot contain
this growing imminence.
I saw this coming
and I got immune to the pain
fell deeply in love
as your light slowly fades away.
You challenge me
you play very well,
used every card
even my pride in peril.
Left alone with the hope
you'll start to see,
all the menace that abrupts
everything will lead to me.
If this is too much
to ask of you,
spare me no trouble
for I am afraid too.
Fck readiness
fck life,
for you I'd wait
even until the great divide.
Great distress
and jeopardy,
whatever happens
you know you'll have me.
Cold as ice
you pull away,
assiduously
I will travail.
You are the threat
I will always salute,
the danger
I'd fiercely hang on to.
All the risks you try
to put me through,
I'd be gratified
to fight for that single fcking chance to have you.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
Mystery compels his curiosity,
and he's curious about everything like a child.
Revealing his ticking gears in a timely fashion.
He used to wear his passions and
his heart strung out on the sponge's sleeve,
But it only brought pain; deposition from grief
*So the gift I bereave to you from the ashes of the old me is someone honest and true, who takes chance's Pitfall into consideration. Scribing my words to you how a Phoenix sheds it's plumes. No more I love you's until I feel you saying I love you too.*
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
Echo illicit idioms,
into my ear.
Speaking ***** always was
your favourite pitfall.
But maybe getting trapped
would be best for us
both.
Who needs sunlight anyway?
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
It begins with a soft bite
That quickly forms into a leech
Beseeching my thoughts...
Controlling my speech..
Preaching important matters
Carrying potential to teach
All their essential condescending
Never-endings out of reach
Yet the pitfall arrives
When I choose to listen
With sighs and ghosted thoughts
The result of some or other condition
Bolstering a vision with apt precision
When every remission indicates
The necessary revision
Envy stifles a stern conviction
Jealousy trifles within final prediction
Anger endangers calm
Making strangers within this perdition
Bring it all in as I wriggle and writhe
Because I am to blame
For all of my pride
...It stays inside
As soon as my cards were shown I decided to fold. I can't keep this under control while I'm so vulnerable. Yet another rapport thrown in the fire and tossed out the door... And I'm so **** gullible. I watch this bridge burn from a distance before it will mend. Yet again the result of desiring you-
More than a friend
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 11:28 PM UTC
When I’m alone you grasp my hand
And set the tone
Darkened music, reflective thoughts,
You turn me away from anything else around me
The moods right for this melancholy tango
And you whirl me around for a while
Your sadistic steps lead my masochistic thoughts
Onward through this familiar downward spiral
I know it’s every twist and turn
It’s every pitfall, dip, back step
All the questions it elicits
I wonder what’ll happen when it’s over
What will follow?
What did I miss?
What more will be evoked?
Is this one more reminder?
And I don’t even need to bother wondering anymore
I know when you’ll be back
As soon as one day’s sun sets and I close my eyes
Again that song starts
Reminds me, prompts me
Then again I surrender
To the arms of loneliness
May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 4:37 PM UTC
my showers are getting colder,
my ribs have all been broke,
and this hell I call a home is going down in smoke.
my breaths are getting sharper and they each puncture my lungs,
I've now seen the evil that lives in everyone.
a killer with charm, brutality,
and a sickening grin.
a broken thing that lies very, very, deep within.
a rotting grudge underneath us that our smiles cannot hide.
a partially hidden pitfall
beyond our vanity and pride.
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 11:53 PM UTC
And as you left that quick
You became my favorite mnemonic
That I am alive and loving
That I'm breathless but still breathing
The way you made me recall
Is both my mountain-top and pitfall
The way I was reminded
Is too hurting, too conceited
But, you are my favorite pain
Reminding me I'm alive through fiery rain
Making me feel by pulling heart strings
Pain reminds of life through stings
Every single detail has your shadow
Reminding me of us, everywhere I go
You made it seem so easy to forget everything
You made it feel like those times meant nothing
That what we had mattered only to me
Now all those we shared resonate with agony
As you abandoned me without hesitation
I arrived with a dreadful realization
You justified why storms are named...
After people, since they can damage just the same
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
to spell incorrectly:
utterances, circumstances,
suggestions, assumptions,
routine...
But the terror:
to state Button as Bottom!
Dec 8, 2021
Dec 8, 2021 at 2:54 AM UTC
I did not mean to fall
for you but it's
your words
that made
me do
I
wish,
I didn't
give in that easily
just because you were
so nice and sweet every
time we speak.
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 4:26 AM UTC
Movement One
story without plot
rhyme no reason
they are beautiful I embrace them
though frivolous
perplexing
how
you believe they have meaning
without existence of contrasting
thought
Movement Two
would you part Gemini or
hands from
their work
without water
land they till
becomes dull
mass of dirt
End of Statement
Not of song
what lyric without voice
has freewill without choice
must I
list the meaningless
forever
in
silence
Movement Three
what is
harmony without
melody
paint without
canvass
medium without
foundation
What a thought!
true freedom
without direction
majestic for a moment
only a moment
the pitfall of
my unfinished labor
makeshift vanity
dissipated into
forgotten dreams
make no mistake
such creations
bear certain
appeal
yet unseen
essence draws
them
into
the void
as memories
fragmented
in pieces
without one
final sliver
become
spare change
on the table
overlooked
forgotten
though of value
upon assembly
Movement Four
what is a character
without a tale?
what is a novel
without a soul
to speak of which was first
chicken or egg
to those who say
egg I say "nay"
a chicken will thrive
without young
the simple ellipse
without a mother-
hard-boiled
in a salad
together they are whole
the one gains life
the other lives
abundantly
The Grand Scheme! A Master Theme!
can there be
a creator without
creation
Movement Five
Is a book worth writing without characters to fill it? or would it
be filled, with lands and backgrounds of ambiguity?
Is a person annulled without life to retell, or become a mannequin with
a simple, painted, face
p e r h a p s
joy within the stories
hardship and experience manifest
history and all live in footprints
| |
silhouettes dreamed | the Identities | in the wake
| |
of
The Protagonist
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC
It’s said
Glittering things just in the distance do not always mean that gold is just within reach
for fools gold is so much nearer to the truth
And in a similar vein
Smiles and laughter do not always denote happiness
because those in the most pain know well enough how to hide it
and that you would probably prefer it that way
And just like mining,
One has to dig past the surface
To see whats hidden within
So break out your pickaxe
and plop on your safety gear
and if you care as much as you like to say you do
Get ready to work
and dig
and get *****
Who knows what you’ll find
Diamonds or coal
Riches or nothing at all
Gold or pyrite
The truth or another lie
For even past surface level
Things can remain hidden in the dark
Just when you think you’ve reached the treasure
You’ve searched for so desperately
Your foot might fall upon something you didn’t even see
A pitfall perhaps
and down you go
Further from your goals than ever before
If there’s one thing i’ve learned in my life
It’s how to set traps and barricades
So unwary spelunkers never touch my heart
and only those who really care will get close
Close enough to free my heart from the barbed wire prison I created
My gold and treasure
My friendship
Is only for those who can earn my trust
Because while my body isn’t a temple
My soul is sacred land
Never to be desecrated by uncaring hands
And I will never let the hymns and lullabies I whisper myself to sleep with
To encourage myself
To let myself dream for a bright future
Be taken
I will never see them ruined or changed to fit the agenda of the uncaring deity you see yourself as
Instead I’ll bury them in the sacred land of my heart
Only to be found by those deserving
I will never allow myself to lose the love I have to give
For friends and family
For even after I dissipate into the end
Into the resounding, echoing, heartbreaking “Nevermore!”
My whispered lullabies will remain for those who earned the right to listen
And so for now I'll leave my treasure locked and buried
My love safe within my heart, my temple
Until you can prove to me you deserve it
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
Would nothing be guaranteed?
Can short pain be part of the journey,
when moving towards long run joy?
Although it is always safer not to go on that journey,
Unknown is the path, nothing is guaranteed...
A thousand and one are the hazards of the journey,
many are the pitfalls -
Nothing can be guaranteed...
Will each small piece of love compose to a secure jigsaw?
Didn’t we search for love in a crystal ball?
It was hidden inside,
a hard core.
And the seed was very hard and
the sprout had
“very, very limited’ room to meet with treasure for all!
But the seed tried,
she whispered, but assertively,
If it was an effort;
She drops the hard shell.
Does she start moving?
Immediately the light twinkles:
the struggle with the soil, together with the stones,
dancing with the rocks.
Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 6:40 PM UTC