"quells" poems
We fall,
and hard,
and in the shadows,
***** ourselves on snags,
that tear our clothes;
grazed and cut,
we stagger on -
Impressions, ideas, fancies!
Of these have we been disabused.
But is this spring,
come again?
Lovely,
yesterday,
in the bright sunlight,
to see you,
felt green hat in among the photo clouds,
apple suedes on the gallery's dank floor.
Melvyn,
and I,
merrily circling with you the light cloud images,
my nostrils full of pollen spikes.
The pictures:
wisps of trailing dreams churning in ‘scapes of infinite blue;
dark clouds,
in amongst them,
too.
Photographs in two time places
caught;
at once, all:
the other and t'other.
So excitement swells,
and everything besides us quells,
because the knowing of itself,
knows,
and dares beyond the frames;
to skirt knowingly the unsaid;
to want beyond the wounded past,
to pull things,
once again,
inside out.
In whimsy’s currents flow these thoughts,
these feelings,
these drives;
swirling in eddies,
so that as you sit,
on a summer’s day,
it moves,
a mirror to everything above.
The wavelets on the surface,
hammered into shape,
burn, bite and dazzle;
the sun’s flames leaping and dancing on ripples.
In the basement,
on the concrete,
your Y proneness shifts,
releasing knees on black-clad thighs;
two pendulums swinging,
brushing;
yawing metronomes in the cool,
coolness of my desultory thoughts.
Oh, what am I saying?
Feelings like reveries walk along these silver lips straying languorously.
These myths are too soon made,
carried one to the next,
one-on-one,
until contained no longer,
become new truths.
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 8:40 PM UTC
The purest sense of understanding that allows two hearts to move beyond the borders of the conscious, thinking mind.
Without the thoughts that twist the words, that distort perception; what is conveyed, is... is... unconditional acceptance and love. In this simple concept we find solace, we find connection, we reach the precipice of and stare in awe at the beauty of the humane soul. Everything seems perfect.
By this perfection, given face value, we draw the ever permanent distinction between what what is black and what is white; what is wrong and what is right; what is virtue and what is moral travesty. For inherent to humanity is the eagerness, bias and extremity with which we represent the good and evil of this world. For who would believe that the "caretaker", wrought of good intentions, could be soiled in his actions?
The caretaker that empathizes with the troubled or broken soul is a testament to the honesty of a human heart; but he who enables others with his empathy becomes not the caretaker, but the "jailer". Through his conviction to ALWAYS be there, to sooth the hurts, to understand the pains and to maintain control... by those actions, he belittles them. The relief of empathy is only temporary. Empathy does not enact change, it is mere salve and bandage, it quells the aches for but a moment. And when they return, in their woes, the service of the empathizer becomes requirement.
For though empathy may be needed, with the power to forge a bond of deep understanding, its indiscriminate use only stunts. Personal growth, it is found by many paths in this world. We must grow and mature; let others do the same. Life is a journey with many opportunities but also many hardships, we are defined by these. If we are stunted by the empathy of others, in their quest to protect us, we will never grow, never achieve that which is greater, and never leave our "prison".
Virtue or vice... once again in the hands of the beholder.
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 2:04 PM UTC
Marooned
Vapid beauty of this room
Frothing carpet, ocean blue
One wall me, the other you
What lies between is residue
Scribed on soggy, shipwrecked parchment
Questions asked, time forgotten
Who are we?
What do we know?
Into these questions Summer flows
And thrashes at your Autumn’s brinks
Yearlong they torment my brain
Infringing on every season
If not for the manic scheme
To love and having loved be loved
This correspondence to a distant land
With stars, more numerous and brightly lit
Than my burgeoning highway exit
Would by no means have left my hand
But if, against all odds, it will prevail
Extolling truth’s folly, my sorrowful tale
Quells with reason my groundless pride
At having docked on your passionless harbor
Unloading platonic cargo during our youth’s ebbing tide
Must not create union of body or mind
You swallow my horizon, like the sun twilight
Though, one need not chase that orange orb for tomorrow
In this night without fortitude, lewd humor consumes me
Singing with the mouth on my head and your voice inside
I plunge into darkness
Skimming its silky surface
Before zipping it behind me
Shall I drown, as I have lived?
In vain, my dreams your subjects
Taken for ransom in your heart’s Tripoli
Not surmising recompense, I forfeit this
A note belying resonance
Of my heart’s last echoed throe
One desperate effort, giving up
Feed every vestige to the void
Wading, torso encumbered
Each sullen relic of your memory
Falls to the deep’s frigid ebony
Then, only too late am I cognizant
That my own breath is tribute yet spent
Therefore if I were to float or swim
I’d give you every ounce of who I am
Convince you to relinquish me
From your tepid, spurning sea
Then lying beneath moist underbrush
Slowly, breathe no more
Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 4:24 PM UTC
When the leaves are green, then the birds will sing,
Each note carried upon a sunlit ray;
My heart cannot bear awaiting this scene.
New, vibrant color quells cold, bitter sting,
And rings the chime for a calm and softer day,
When the leaves are green, then the birds will sing.
A winter tale ends well, blue sky it'll bring,
And rare flowers that chase all care away;
My heart cannot bear awaiting this scene.
Robins in trees weave nests of withe and string
As the beat of their soft wings seem to say,
When the leaves are green, then the birds will sing.
Tulips dance in a tepid breeze in spring,
Crimson petals spreading, though not to stay;
My heart cannot bear awaiting this scene.
Bid adieu to steel-gray skies forbidding
Nature's gifts and tranquility, in May-
When the leaves are green, then the birds will sing;
My heart cannot bear awaiting this scene.
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 9:28 PM UTC
Some days, I wake up flighty and itchy.
Crawling out of my skin and jumping at every last inhale and exhale.
Crying at every last brush of my fingers on my scars.
Whimpering at having to be surrounded by a writhing mass of people.
These are the days when I’m most reminded of you.
Reminded of how you used to love me.
Reminded of how you used to hold me.
Reminded that you don’t care about me anymore.
These are the days when I wish I could still talk to you.
That you would still care about what I had to say.
I would probably ask you to hand me a scalpel and some scissors and the rubbing alcohol,
because I need to cut you and your scar tissue permanently away from my heart.
And even on these days I remember that you would have looked at me in anger and pity for saying such things (i.e. self-harm)
But these are also the days when I want to cut all of my emotions out.
Slice them away from my veins word by word.
Watch apathetically as I bleed the letters out.
All of these words and letters we have assigned to emotions, to try to describe the uncontrollable reactions we have in life.
Anger, Betrayal, Compassion, Exhaustion, Frustration, Guilt, Happiness, Indifference, Jealousy, Kindness, Love, Morbidity, Nervousness, Oppression, Peace, Remorse, Spite, Tranquility, Uncertainty, Vexation, and Yearning.
For, surely, it would be easier to be numb, than to go through all of these and many, many more?
To go through the long, unending cycles of good weeks, good months, and then bad days.
Sure, they’re less frequent than they used to be.
Sure, they’re few and far between.
Sure, it’s only 24 to 48 hours.
Sure, the medication quells the panic attacks and violent mood swings and poisonous thoughts.
But that just makes them worse when they surface.
Makes the paranoia worse.
Makes the anxiety worse.
Makes the self-abuse worse.
Makes me worse.
On these days I remember,
That you ran away from me because I’m broken
,
and you aren’t a handy man capable of fixing me.
I can spend all of my time loving you,
fixing you,
singing to you, worshiping you,
And in the end you cannot give these things back.
You aren’t perfect.
You aren’t chained to me.
You didn’t even want to claim me.
And after all, on these days,
Everything is my fault anyways.
Some days,
The days when I wake up,
Begging to be locked in a sanitarium,
Sobbing and biting and kicking and screaming,
I’m reminded that you,
And no one else,
Will ever love me.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
Curve of tangent brims on rune of cosmic quantum,
as sparkling rays reel through dew drops at dawn,
for green to enlighten creation by bounty of joy,
meadow grass seems to tumble drinking solace,
resonance of love sprees like beauty of blossom.
speckles of white crystal repose in home of blue,
eyes bespeaks of ethereal exist to seek beyond,
sun awakens earth to uplift from sheath of night,
as if hale of eternity expands to abound beyond ,
petal draws portrait of spark to inflame fragrance.
silence quells grief of soul to emblazon by the journey,
for each drop of tear to absolve guilt of own delusion,
light of love wakes heart to disown from quailing grace,
cry of call genuflects at foothill of warmth to yield unity,
synergy of art evolves to form by sanity of confluence.
Innocence blushes like cadence of hope to run a muck
quest still falters to know very principle of uncertainty
mystery baffles truth of reason to reason out belief
as tendered mellow soft weaves to gather web of love
yet don't we need to learn theory of quantum solace?.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
Shadows fall across the land
Red and gold in graceful swells
The hills are breathing deep with peace
And all unrest the silence quells
A passing storm across the plains
Cannot disturb the peace within
The lightning strikes and thunder rolls
Yet solemn the land returns again
Ageless wisdom calls the soul
As hills and valleys rise
Where the fields unyielding gently fall
And unbroken land meets painted skies.
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
Why don't you just **** me
Break a bone and thrill me
Let go of the night
Cut stones with your might
Carve a face in the moon
Remind the word of monsoon
Tears of the rain
Address of a name
Hands of pain
Strangles insane
And you wonder again
If you can take a leap of faith
And the bed breaks
From all the riding you do
Staring into the mirrors
Never could find you
Gunpowder smells sweet
Knives don't bleed
And scars you keep
To remind you to weep
The clawed beast leaps
And hurts you in the eye
With his shiny paws
He engraves a smile
And now you smile
No need for a mask
Crystal ball shows the past
With your life you're charged
Soldiers march
On the order of the king
A nightingale sings
Waiting for spring
It's killed by the beast
Winter it brings
Deaf can see the pain
Hands feel the sunrise
Ocean drowns self
Tears can cry
Time talks to gravity
Learn a few moves
Disturbed and disfigured
With every blue moon
Frog yearns for a princess
His story to complete
But a scorpion waits
A lizard competes
Warmth of heart
Coldness of eyes
Princess strangled
Ugly paid the price
Snake catches a mice
He's hungry no more
Vulture eats the snake
Natures a *****
Can you find the key
Maybe there's no door
Young yells existence
Old sings the Lore
A hollowed heart
Left to suffer and die
Erased of gods existence
Angels never said goodbye
Portrait of heaven
Hangs on the walls of hell
A part of my dream
Where lucifer fell
'tis where Satan dwells
And thirst never quells
Walks inside his cave
To hide inside his shell
Walk around naked
And show all of your scars
This night is so dark
Let's paint some stars
A faded moonlight
Brings alive our shadows
A unicorn bleeds and dies
Far away in the meadows
Waiting for a ******
In need of a master
with its last breath
Beauty is monster
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 5:04 AM UTC
"It's not for anxiety," they said, tightlipped but concerned,
they don't understand that I can't pay attention if my heart beats louder than my words,
The sound of my thoughts coming at me like trains and bike and buses,
honking at me to say something articulate,
is much louder than their confused voices explaining that the blue pill is to stop the jitters,
but I've got other issues.
They don't see that there is a tea kettle bubbling in my stomach that shoots hunger through its long nose,
in shrill whistles that pierce my insides.
It's all I can hear when the TV is on and I haven't eaten.
But that little chemical spreads inside me like a blanket of silence, quells the screaming children
and the little girl constantly tugging at my heartstrings,
making indiscernible chords that only
echo as the sound of jealousy, fear and self loathing.
She tucks her self in and keeps her hands to herself for a few hours.
As the blue devils shovel more coal in the bed warmers,
the sound of metal clanging is muted by their powers.
Chipping away at the noise makers, the inhabitants of my tortured soul-
I love the empty I feel on adderall.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 9:27 AM UTC
There is a peaceful silence
A sweet serenity
A quantum of solace
That lives inside of me
My sombre solace quells
The vast infernal sea
That swells inside my stomach
For infinity
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 4:27 AM UTC
He’s watching, but she’s not looking
In this new form of modern day hooking
A golden transaction
Creates an instant attraction
As the two meet in a binary realm
With a computer screen at the helm
One stares dead eyed
Completely fried
The other separates mind and body
After all, it’s not quite a hobby
Allowing a fiction to take hold
Making her actions more bold
She quells the urge
The other desired to purge
Once it’s all done
He stops calling her ***
Reverts back to the misshapen dialectic
Of a right handed epileptic
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 8:09 PM UTC
Because the galaxy was blue
Because the universe was me and you
Because of our hunger for a world not ours
Because of the deficiency within our stars
The consistent lack of artless voids
And shifting second nature grins
Such bliss in connection- rift to avoid
But they have come and crawled within
Because of the absence in pure communication
Because of the split between two fleeting creations
Because the skies have all gone down
Because the spirits put us under the ground
The psychedelic tides became too strong
Her little voice lost in waves far past
Ouija spirits sacredly summoned and
Sinister laughter cracking her glass
Because the earth twisted her bones into a mobius strip
Because the pure boy had begun to slip
Because of the way we couldn't make sense of it all
Because of the subconscious swaying to falls
Alone now in tear drowned terror, the manipulative beast
The little girl whimpering in soiled sheets
He orchestrated the world into ****** gatherings
Our souls succumbed to iniquitous happenings
Because they craved for more than they had
Because they had no choice but to become mad
Because they hadn't set their imprinted place
Because they allowed the demons to show their face
I called his name in lulling tones
As I laid still upon the bed
And wondered what would become of my bones
If they could not get the voices out of my head
Because of free will, he came to me for peace
Because of the misleading thrill and rapid retinas decrease
Because the voice quells to his sweet earth
Because the reason for death had been rebirth
What it was to be consciously dying--
Afraid for eyelids shut; inducing eternal sleep
Lullabies hummed so softly lying
To be so far, to be in too deep
Because we were finally safe when all unfolded
Because we made sure nothing was left untold and
Because we had brought each other back to shore
Because of the desire to stay once more
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
as the night quells, soft and gentle,
the incessant humming in my head subdues to
a murmured hush, and the white noise is but
a grey fog veiling hazy promises and barbed fears.
the darkness seems to hold its breath as you say: look
at the meteors, they fall so heavily tonight!
it is because we all placed our wishes on them.
yet i only see your tired orbit
set in the horizon of your stony shoulders;
like shooting stars burdened by wishful thinking,
you bow under a burden of universes:
phantom hopes and frayed strands,
as if you were afire from within, the moon
alight in lining of your skin.
tonight the waning moon’s gentle glow flickers
as if in stop-motion, like confused blinking.
in a lingering afterthought I find —
in solitude time is all-consuming,
and i am in an hourglass; time, a thief,
creating a vortex beneath my feet
and in solitude i find myself wishing desperately again.
the darkness is so softly suffocating as you say: look
at the meteors, they fall so heavily tonight!
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 1:37 AM UTC
A lonesome voice began a mournful air,
As bowing low, it moved amongst the trees;
Its booming tones exuding sad despair,
Disseminating, on a wistful breeze --
A soft sweet voice came drifting down from high,
As bowing swift, it moved with fluent grace;
Its ringing song effusing endless joy,
As two lost voices shared a first embrace --
Their unity, a ringing pack of bells,
And canon drawn midst Ursa's watchful gaze;
Their song a tune that nothing ever quells,
Its tempo strong until their end of days;
Oft’ times, the canon booms, the bells will ring,
As two more lonely voices learn to sing
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC
Faithful and Fruit to these Condiments bind
And soon will you find her Impatient Face
Yet, out of her Love's Shivered Interest, mind
Will keep her Wrist till satisfied your Place
As long as these Fishes persistent, bite
The very Saying most Lovers research
To you, an Arm's Open Wound set, despite
Drug-Crazed Pidgeons in concert to Feed, perch
This is why she has to keep her Silence
Till she finds your Earth to hold and adore
That very Tan, burnt to ample Conscience
Will inspire her Shells for more and more.
When such Fire quells, and Waters recede
Her Brow on your Chest; Your Arm's Brace repeat.
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 5:19 AM UTC
Count the hours on the clock,
Shifting hands to softly mock,
The nagging tick of mortal flocks,
Atop this fetid, burdened rock
Arranged in dandy rows of twelve,
Nestled firm above the shelves,
They strum a tune for silent crowds,
To dust and grime and hellish clouds
Waiting for its muse to strike,
As if a match or flame alike,
It leaps from hours seeking rhythm,
To seize upon a growing schism
Ringing out, it quells the chime,
Weeping children stand in line,
Dead men all accused of crimes,
Against the grueling pace,
Of time
"These bleeding hands, tis' all you thought,
For now you see,
It's all a sign..."
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 10:57 PM UTC
such is dreams of him
whispering in my thoughts
and...
this heart of mine quells,
awakening memories long
dormant
stirring...
undying love left lingering
upon upturned pout
swayed...
intoxicating thoughts stilled
in sensualities image, him
within...
those appreciative moments
of silk like fingers animated
at will
palpitation...
quicken breaths unleash;
seductive emotions, I capitulated
to his will
besotted...
memories forever immerged;
inked by hearts quill
© D A Baugh. All rights reserved
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
I fell into your words without a sound
I must confess, I thought them very real
A burgeoning romance, I mused, profound—-
Each promise that you made, I set the seal
And so did I, in daydream, much time spend
And by your face and arms I was consumed
In deep imaginings without an end
And by your love I thought I’d be exhumed—-
But whispered words in darkness are not truth;
When darkness leaves, truth darts away as well
And to believe such lies is to be youth
A paradox of time that aging quells
So did I think your promise absolute
While you intended no fair restitute—-
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 12:10 PM UTC
even though i don't understand,
i've watched him love you hard.
i've felt Olympus shake and i've
created supernovas on his behalf,
steadied my arrows and called out to my galaxies-
but, consistently, he quells me quiet and it's always then that i see it-
the warrior he is demands he doesn't give up on a battle
and Ares has been chasing Aphrodite too long to set a better example and i
hate to say it
but it's alarmingly beautiful.
father may have made a star,
but that lionheart made you a sun.
i have long preached that perfection takes time,
that my mother has a love so pure and perfect set aside for her,
but her heart caught on you.
war is love and love is war -
she has weathered battles in your name and each time i try to end the fight,
lay the final blow
she quiets my furies
with a hand on my chest and music in my ears.
Apollo has been chasing dawn too long to teach the lesson of patience,
but you were her dawn and mornings aren't the same, anymore.
she sings songs of you at daybreak
and i hum songs of war.
she pretends she isn't missing her star.
i try not to miss the sun.
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 1:46 AM UTC
neither united
nor separated,
lovers
we’ve been
for ages
our love
older than
the methuselah
in far away Libra
no distance quells it
no fire burns it
no weapons dare
destroy it
not even
the death sword of shiva
i’m yours!
just like water
from rain clouds
becomes a part of the ocean
forever and ever
© 2019
Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 1:55 PM UTC
Pain quells but not yet healed
Oh, memories flash like sunrays beam
You bogus a smile so perfectly
Yet it take more years for you to weal
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC
All day I dream of space
Far off worlds pull at my thoughts
Earth on the fringes of my mind.
Foreign air chokes my lungs.
Alien brainwaves, invading
Persuading, notions that I do not belong
This poisonous world, suffocating
The light seen in dreams
Calling out across dimensions
White noise screams, broken messages
Loud pulsing, scrapes along my skull
Bleeding out into over saturated comprehension
Known truths, wither into the dust
Of old age and barried lies.
The Infinite darkness, the chill
Space comforts me, quells the flames
Blinds these tired eyes from chains
Worn heavy, by the proud fool.
Trapped in a shell, far away from home.
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 7:41 PM UTC
Spill tears upon my letter
Remember me today?
Memories now salty drops
Crumple it and throw it away?
But pick it up, won't you?
As long as it takes
After your anger quells
To count my mistakes?
While your fingers touch
And your eyes scan
The edges of the letter
It will make me feel better
Is the paper damp?
Dry it in the sun
Read it under a lamp
About when love was young?
In the moon and sun
I have sent tokens
Of undying love
In dreams awoken
Keep one eye
On the road for me
Close them once
And hope for me
Keep them shut
and try to see
What couldn't be
And could have been?
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC