"quandry" poems
Forget the onion and all its layers
thats obvious
You are undeserving for such a cliché
So I invite a different perspective
Think of a base, flour and egg kneaded together like I need you,
so dense in identical morals
Folded with mirrored ideology of future fortuity
Dipped sensually with a sauce so thick,
Thicker than blood or water,
Blended as one to create a sea of red as deep as our hearts pumping vitality
Sprinkled softly with the most palatable, mouth watering mozzarella
Each placing full of utter affection,
Long lost stares while you sit innocent to me feasting my eyes upon your moreish persona.
The only quandry we must face is whose decision that day of toppings to showcase
Who gets the chance to tease additional flavours, delicious tasters
To open eyes to attributes unseen before,
Hopes set high to electrify taste buds
Wanting the other to crave more
Ingredients brought together for a flavoursome pizza
You are my hawaiian
As i,
Your meatfeast.
Opposing trimmings
Eachothers 1st choice
One anothers perfection to quench their dying hunger
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 12:05 PM UTC
Darling what your words have claimed, is true. I have grown an affintity for you, and, but a mere fatuation would undermine my emotions for you. You could be as poor as the dictionary can describe it, but I would have no dispute with breaking bread on a futon in a one bedroom apartment, for my darling I would have you to share it with. I cannot explain in any way or word what linkage I feel towards you and what imminent, unborn quandry, disagreements or dilemas we might face. I'll be over and above to put those problems to their knees, shut them down and subjugate them. Eye, there will be exceptional recherche, eye there will be dissatisfactory and atrocious, but I vow to never slant in our interconnection. I'll stand by you during quandry and I'll stand by you in a war, because not only my heart that loves you so dearly, my soul has grown quite fond towards you, that never before have. And in all verity, I have gone far more than fall in love. I vow to preserve and protect thee love.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
How can four computers
fail in the same way
simultaneously?
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
Fragile cosmos; not expanding but exploding what it wished were a
soulful, solitary display
All of His contemplations;
a quarry of quandry for
which the upper depths of
space are the baseline
Stars, no longer an expression of a
dying Son, ethearalize upon a canvas that can either
crush The Father
or remain
painted on the dark side of the
moon; a face mistaking it's
frown for a grin, nobody to correct him
Of His own volition;
a never-ending shift of balances
throwing Everyone into it's tantric evolution
Shotten wishes, raining onto the unawakened
Hushed gasps collapsing into
vacuous nothingness
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 1:23 AM UTC
Like the tortise came to
finish last you appeared
During a quandry where
I was already cornered
Looking up into the
hollowed and pale face of
failure, pereptual dissatisfaction
I felt you like the sun
wraps its arms around
a body dripping in frigid
lake water
after a jump into the
cool blue which seemed to
stop time
just so I could reach out to
grab your heart
before it could fall out
I have you now
I've tied you into me
Where the time stopped
our souls got to sit together
for eternity
they would dance into each other
in celebration of our union
they saw the meaning before we did
and we didn't need much time to
notice it too
In this moment
I feel no fear
For the first time
I looked down into
the water and
it's clear
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 4:32 AM UTC
2013/3/18
*This is part of a conversation between me and a girl. We both write poems back and forth to each other. This poem is in response to her asking if I was telling her how I felt about her "between the lines."
The language found between lines,
Is purposely caged within confines.
The tumult found within the head,
Leaves the best left unsaid.
Does it even matter that we see,
The words hidden in each degree?
What good would come if then,
We listened to the words within?
Maybe the best is better left,
Between the lines, thought bereft.
If you wanted to, you could express,
Those three words within your chest.
But how could I come to believe,
That I was not being deceived?
All the evidence poured out over months,
Has left me unsure of all the wants.
Maybe freedom of heart is close,
Maybe it is what I want most.
Even now, as I lie in bed,
I wonder at those, words left unsaid.
If you can decipher such curious rhymes,
And even still read between the lines,
Then you should understand my quandry.
And understand why I don't know if I'm free.
Because sometimes, no matter the rhyme,
There is nothing you can do this time.
Nothing will erase the past,
For me, acceptance will only come last.
If you can't imagine why I hold back,
Then perhaps take a small track.
Imagine it from my point of thought,
And maybe then you'll see why not.
If others read this, they would know me insane.
If they read ours, they would know pain.
If they read yours, they might not see your best,
But what they should see, you're a beautiful mess.
Again, for C
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
Sometimes I want to shut that drumming sound in my head
The pounding of bothering with everyone's problems
How easy it is to project your torment on others
But how difficult to hide it within and persevere
Like a loose cannon it shoots from your lips
Not concerned where it lands
In someone's bed or someone's hand
It blasts in their face and leave them anxious
Your worries have left your cushion
They've have now bedded in my mind's prison
I feel so ***** and robbed of my peace
Your problems you've cast on to me
Though I'd like to help
I've realized now it's getting a bit
It's become a habit for you
To send crytic clues in your worries
And wringing your hands in desperation
So for now I'll pretend my cup's full too
My mind's occupied and I need my space
I can't jump in for your every whim
Give my life to run around your din.
Then you'll get angry for not helping you
You label me as terrible and bad mouth me
But seriously I care a flying rat's ***
Your problems are your making
Your mind is a cesspool of worries
It's never going to end
Till on your internal reserves you learn to depend
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 3:43 AM UTC
Twer it not for pain endured
Would pleasure not exist?
Twer it not for devilment
Would Godliness persist?
Without the surge of lust in life
Would children not be born?
Without the sound of laughter
Would there not be days forlorne?
How is it that the setting sun
Can bring forth tears of joy?
How is it that a wayward glance
Can join a girl and boy?
What is it in our makeup
That breeds the curse of war?
What weakness in our character
That cirumvents the law?
How is it that from ugliness
A beauty will emerge?
How is it on the tidal flow
That waves do ebb and surge?
What makes this child of human kind
A paradox reversed?
What lays the future out before
As history rehearsed?
How interesting this quandry
That circumscribes a man,
How nebulous the blueprint,
How juxtaposed the plan.
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
25 September 2010
Sep 24, 2010
Sep 24, 2010 at 7:14 PM UTC
The angel of death wears a MAGA hat
And commends the work
Of his marketing and rebranding director
As they synchronize
Their Apple Watches to close
The circles of hell.
The charnel house market is about to boom and
He’ll offer the best capacity at top dollar prices
He’ll pocket the profits and stiff the contractors unless they’re stiffs already.
Even the angel of death might have an ethical quandry with this.
Our differences fade at the cemetery gate
Where we’re being processed like bottles at a redemption center
Where It means nothing unless he can pocket the deposits
And crow about his ratings
about how he’s the best
And if you look for salvation behind an artificial tan
You might as well be dead already
Like the space behind those eyes.
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 9:29 PM UTC
I was once told by an old man
That life is about learning to deal with loss.
For a while I struggled to understand,
Filled with bitterness of the past, becoming cross.
Then one morning I had a moment of clarity,
And I was frustrated with this troublesome quandry no longer.
People say the truth is a rarity;
I find that hard to believe, for I know I have come out stronger.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 10:17 PM UTC
Pursuing new things.
Focusing poorly on life’s routines.
Losing the novelty.
Struggling to maintain new habits.
Missing long conversations.
Craving unceasing attention.
Struggling now.
Disappointing failures.
Fearing novelty alone drew me.
Longing to know what’s best.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 7:24 AM UTC
Come sit with me
in the velvet textured
yellow flower petals
and whisper the words
that the stars never speak.
the vast blackness of the night sky
holds me tightly
and gazes at the colors surrounding your heart
in a way that makes even me jealous.
and if my face appears
in your dreams tonight my love,
would you recognize it?
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 3:07 AM UTC
So
lonely even in celebrations craze
single and longing for just another taste
popular but carries sorrow in tow
a forced feeble smile he attempts to show
handsome yet always feels ugly below
he is a quandry unto himself, he is low
So
how to relieve this disbelieving stink
how to find that self adoration again
will anyone notice how deep he drinks
so full of feeling, so quick to self-blame
even tired of wishes which never came
a child so wild, so slow to tame
So
now in days of yearning to touch
learning to love, he craves it much
for a truth that is matched and with his own
no one else to please, no place else to roam
in loving, laden arms to call his home
even if and when / wishes never come
So...
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 5:52 PM UTC
the law is an asp
denying true will
there is only one path
thats yours to fulfil
be what you are
not what they tell
the only answer you owe
is to question your self
ethical quandry
is egoic suspense
wasting aeons of time
in this momentary existence
the daemon inside you
makes moral judgement
a surplus requirement
lest you hurt someone else
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 1:58 PM UTC
the calm that escapes me
waits for a space in the cloud
unabating
patient now
breaking down
building
creating
destroying and remaking
my mind up
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 8:38 AM UTC