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"quieting" poems
A clock ticks time by tirelessly Gears winding like twines of string With quaint clicking quickly quieting Until finally time stands still Broken glass of a smooth clock face Gears halting in deformity Glistening shards like the sands of time Ceasing in their downward flight A once beating ticking heart of life Now is lost within a sleepless night Once a momentum to continued light Now falls to the ringing silence's might Time broken into shattered deaths Until there is simply nothing left
0
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
The Broken Clock
sometimes, i like to dance with the devil burning eyes upon me in hypnotic dazzle my toes easily sweep away inhibitions quieting my angelic voice's suspicions as whispered words brush thine ear my entranced ego has no fear endangering as it may be our bodies entanglement appears free with soaring thoughts of ecstasy we ebb and flow in ****** mystery seduced in music playing rhythmically ecstatically, i dance willingly
0
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
dance with the devil
Art, unborn, aches to find form; to manifest itself. Within me it screams, while those around remain deaf to its cry. It claws to free itself from mortal chains, restless to share its vision with the world; to tell its story in verse and beauty. This art within, impatient, cannot wait. It struggles to find its voice within my finite days and world. Until at last, like a volcano, unable to restrain that voice, it erupts, and my art flows out, spilling onto paper. The words and images become solid, taking form, giving birth to the art within. Thus, completing me, quieting the cry inside.
0
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 9:00 AM UTC
THE ARTIST WITHIN
within the solitude of the dreadful span of the blackened and bowed sky the deep withered grass bends in the moonless dark quieting the cold and murmuring earth hushing her into fitful sleep the air is hard and the wind lacerates the night razor incisions left behind in the icy flesh of obsidian hours open wounds howl like wolves on the trail of prey in flight I hunger for you under the restless stars
0
Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 11:29 PM UTC
Winter Prairie
Running and laughing As if A fearless schoolgirl Climbing through my mind A playground for her games My heart   Wet leaves below her feet   The veins bleed crimson into muddy puddles As my feelings bubble to the surface Unnoticed by the towering eyes above The bell rings and she leaves me again Nothing but lonely echoes of laughter Shadowed smiles hidden behind a darkened stage Waiting for the curtains to rise once more One more show As the actors take their places The bell bites into awaiting eardrums Feet pound and patter the ground Jump ropes and monkey bars Bouncing ***** and frisbees scraping gravel Laughter fills my head like an aquarium Tiny fish swim by oblivious Completely unaware of my sponge-like brain Retaining water Slowly quieting Drowning inside the water-filled glass cage At last Thoughtless Bubbles rise from deep below As my heart pumps air and blood to my lifeless brain All the while she climbs And laughs Playing so innocently Yet intently Absolutely ignorant to her power Not realizing as she stares across the chess board That her opponent’s brain has stopped And he is now playing with his heart Now easy prey Young, injured, or old Take your pick He is the scent of blood to a hungry shark In her child-like mind she continues to play Still not sure as to the extent of the challenge A blaring bell sounds off in the distance One more day’s reprieve The footsteps and the laughter subside The curtains fall together The stage again grows dark The aquarium is quiet My heart beats double time Waiting until tomorrow Waiting for her hands to begin the climb Staring at my pieces on the board Knowing I’m in check Just waiting for The mate
0
Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 3:47 PM UTC
Playground
Running and laughing As if A fearless schoolgirl Climbing through my mind A playground for her games My heart   Wet leaves below her feet   The veins bleed crimson into muddy puddles As my feelings bubble to the surface Unnoticed by the towering eyes above The bell rings and she leaves me again Nothing but lonely echoes of laughter Shadowed smiles hidden behind a darkened stage Waiting for the curtains to rise once more One more show As the actors take their places The bell bites into awaiting eardrums Feet pound and patter the ground Jump ropes and monkey bars Bouncing ***** and frisbees scraping gravel Laughter fills my head like an aquarium Tiny fish swim by oblivious Completely unaware of my sponge-like brain Retaining water Slowly quieting Drowning inside the water-filled glass cage At last Thoughtless Bubbles rise from deep below As my heart pumps air and blood to my lifeless brain All the while she climbs And laughs Playing so innocently Yet intently Absolutely ignorant to her power Not realizing as she stares across the chess board That her opponent’s brain has stopped And he is now playing with his heart Now easy prey Young, injured, or old Take your pick He is the scent of blood to a hungry shark In her child-like mind she continues to play Still not sure as to the extent of the challenge A blaring bell sounds off in the distance One more day’s reprieve The footsteps and the laughter subside The curtains fall together The stage again grows dark The aquarium is quiet My heart beats double time Waiting until tomorrow Waiting for her hands to begin the climb Staring at my pieces on the board Knowing I’m in check Just waiting for The mate
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57
Thoughts form in my head Perfected Neat Unscathed Until . . . My mouth opens My tongue flip-flops Words reform Tilting inside each other Melting Into a demented figure Then a volcano erupts From my inner I scream I cry I shout But the pen touches my fingertips Quieting the beast in me “Bleed me” It whispers I did The pen bled my pain It bled my deepest thoughts Seemingly only ink cures My dyslexia ~
0
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
Dyslexia
My head tilted back like I was Tasting raindrops But what fell to my mouth was you Cradling my jaw in your hands Steady As if I were a porcelain doll you might drop It felt like goodbye Because it was And now I am afraid to turn corners Locked in a haunted house What will drop from the ceiling Grab my leg What will scare me back into submission Besides you mounting someone outside Which is perhaps The most disturbing of all How you wanted me until suddenly You didn't And how I didn't believe you And how you fed me excuses like pacifiers Quieting. Comforting. Soothing. But I spit those out Realizing their purpose was to Quiet me into letting you go without a fight But I took out my fists and fought like hell You held them and pleaded with me to put my guns away Surrender my weapons And let you go in peace This was all for you. It was easier For you And only you But what about me. Grabbing at every part of myself Pulling hair from my head and scratching flesh from my bones Slowly and painfully pulling myself apart Abandoning parts of me in gutters and streams out windows and in ditches I can't be myself anymore Every inch of my flesh has your name written on it Scratched in a pen using your own blood as ink You sacrificed for me And I for you And we sat on a rock and smelled ocean and let the water spray our faces until we were sticky and wet and still we sung. We had songs Some silent, but I could hear the music when there was none. I still do. I can't look up down left or right without some yellow light telling me to Slow down to a stop and take caution, for a reminder is coming hard and fast your way. Airbags go Bitch-slapping me in the face for being stupid For having been smart and throwing my morals to the wind I'd like to regret you But I don't I'd like to hate you But I can't This makes me weak yes I know this But I gave you all the parts of me that were strong And mere visions of you take the wind from my lungs and you use them to set your sails You're a deep sea diver.  Swimming. Living. Lying. And I drown here. You told me once that when I jump from a plane The moment my parachute refuses to open You'd be there carrying me to the ground I won't let you fall, you said.
0
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 8:52 PM UTC
Parachute
My head tilted back like I was Tasting raindrops But what fell to my mouth was you Cradling my jaw in your hands Steady As if I were a porcelain doll you might drop It felt like goodbye Because it was And now I am afraid to turn corners Locked in a haunted house What will drop from the ceiling Grab my leg What will scare me back into submission Besides you mounting someone outside Which is perhaps The most disturbing of all How you wanted me until suddenly You didn't And how I didn't believe you And how you fed me excuses like pacifiers Quieting. Comforting. Soothing. But I spit those out Realizing their purpose was to Quiet me into letting you go without a fight But I took out my fists and fought like hell You held them and pleaded with me to put my guns away Surrender my weapons And let you go in peace This was all for you. It was easier For you And only you But what about me. Grabbing at every part of myself Pulling hair from my head and scratching flesh from my bones Slowly and painfully pulling myself apart Abandoning parts of me in gutters and streams out windows and in ditches I can't be myself anymore Every inch of my flesh has your name written on it Scratched in a pen using your own blood as ink You sacrificed for me And I for you And we sat on a rock and smelled ocean and let the water spray our faces until we were sticky and wet and still we sung. We had songs Some silent, but I could hear the music when there was none. I still do. I can't look up down left or right without some yellow light telling me to Slow down to a stop and take caution, for a reminder is coming hard and fast your way. Airbags go Bitch-slapping me in the face for being stupid For having been smart and throwing my morals to the wind I'd like to regret you But I don't I'd like to hate you But I can't This makes me weak yes I know this But I gave you all the parts of me that were strong And mere visions of you take the wind from my lungs and you use them to set your sails You're a deep sea diver.  Swimming. Living. Lying. And I drown here. You told me once that when I jump from a plane The moment my parachute refuses to open You'd be there carrying me to the ground I won't let you fall, you said.
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67
Writhing, the screeching leviathan demands And I cave to save the aching from tricky time slopes Pained craving Wavering but Hit and It’s all loosey goosey goodness Sensing silent magma pulse, whoosh the tummy tingles Droopy ears gape-face giggle no more nowadays A stern turn in old age the silly phase of Too bright, neon common numb tongue rambles Secedes into introspective Crowded walks, broken talks strung into threats clustered and Flung like monkey **** at many-stabbed ego, Brutus? Strangers will eat you The professor thinks I’m funny because I know the answers in class The other day Dingus And Whoseewhatsee tried to alley mug and hurt and end And money! No, rocked nose ran dude! Fine Trying not to fear the outdoors, though The arthropods and phantoms tell me ***** jokes And not to eat my candy Books melt into soupy mercurial elixir I slurp them and belch Educating myself in a barn ******* knowledge On loud faces; empty meat Where you can hear the jingly metal Thing when you shake it, it’s dead no flower They don’t always like me But I’ve got the jeepers creepers behind my peepers And a million lightyears to burn Truth is worth dying Four **** sow Izzeny thing these daze Maybe it was a bust from the start but there’s Always art Quieting the plague that revealed Not so good after all Tiny thorns and all-consuming Waves of red-get-out wrenching, gutted like a fish Overcome, that never went away or found A place to sit Memories arthritic grind a grim gray whetting stone Reduce with juice-cloud, grape teeth cough will never find a home
0
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
160. Whetting 12/22/12
Writhing, the screeching leviathan demands And I cave to save the aching from tricky time slopes Pained craving Wavering but Hit and It’s all loosey goosey goodness Sensing silent magma pulse, whoosh the tummy tingles Droopy ears gape-face giggle no more nowadays A stern turn in old age the silly phase of Too bright, neon common numb tongue rambles Secedes into introspective Crowded walks, broken talks strung into threats clustered and Flung like monkey **** at many-stabbed ego, Brutus? Strangers will eat you The professor thinks I’m funny because I know the answers in class The other day Dingus And Whoseewhatsee tried to alley mug and hurt and end And money! No, rocked nose ran dude! Fine Trying not to fear the outdoors, though The arthropods and phantoms tell me ***** jokes And not to eat my candy Books melt into soupy mercurial elixir I slurp them and belch Educating myself in a barn ******* knowledge On loud faces; empty meat Where you can hear the jingly metal Thing when you shake it, it’s dead no flower They don’t always like me But I’ve got the jeepers creepers behind my peepers And a million lightyears to burn Truth is worth dying Four **** sow Izzeny thing these daze Maybe it was a bust from the start but there’s Always art Quieting the plague that revealed Not so good after all Tiny thorns and all-consuming Waves of red-get-out wrenching, gutted like a fish Overcome, that never went away or found A place to sit Memories arthritic grind a grim gray whetting stone Reduce with juice-cloud, grape teeth cough will never find a home
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46
The time must come when we put aside recipes untried, socks unmended, old fabrics too pretty to be used -when the bottled nuts and bolts -the springs, the locks unused -waiting, wait unused -the memorabilia of hope, the rusty steel of life. The time must come when cease to lie -lotions, Elixirs de Leon -when we fail our bite to the night-soak and think not -care not, of that breath that does not count anyhow -when reason mirrors wrinkles -undreams romance. -hooked rugs of might-have-done, school albums, what not become, leather bottles, convalescing sun -and the quieting ice. When I read the Sports/ Society page, I ask myself -them, 'How will you go down? -willingly? -with, if not a Bang, a Whimper? -if not with, without the Apotheosis of Drug? (-from http://www.condition.org/ )
0
Jun 9, 2010
Jun 9, 2010 at 5:05 PM UTC
Eskimos
I laid nose-to-nose, in tall, old grasses, with a spirited coyote, some nights ago. He said to me, with lips unparted and low, shiny eyes - to listen. Hesitantly, I inched forward and nudged that coyote with my face, prodding him for something more. But, nothing came. He simply stared back at me, unblinkingly. “I listen!” I shouted with a heart on fire. “I listen more than anyone I know!” The coyote continued his staring game, quieting my bosomed flames. Stubborn - they erupted, something ugly, from the valley, into the mountaintop. Spilling from eyes, in the mountainside, I screamed back into his so loud, The mountain ached from its shut in echo. Patient " the coyote waited. So, I stopped. Somehow surprised, I found that, after the flames subsided into greys of ashes, in silence, I had begun to listen. That coyote’s eyes were urging eyes, unmoving " unrelenting. Obedient, I drew forth my worn, careful bag out and placed it, gently, in the dirt between us. The coyote snatched it, in the grain between our breaths, and held it between clenched teeth. I glared at him with challenging eyes " he stared back at me, just the same. I reached out to grab it, but halfway there, I heard the coyote command me, “Stop.” The coyote lay there, my ashes raging about loudly " still silent, my bag between his teeth. As the ashes settled, his glaring eyes mellowed, and I watched as he gobbled it up. -- A crow cawed somewhere. The full moon shone down approvingly. My soul sighed once. My body followed. The coyote slept - I bowed my head in silence.
0
Jul 27, 2011
Jul 27, 2011 at 2:09 PM UTC
I Ain't Cryin' At That Coyote No More
I laid nose-to-nose, in tall, old grasses, with a spirited coyote, some nights ago. He said to me, with lips unparted and low, shiny eyes - to listen. Hesitantly, I inched forward and nudged that coyote with my face, prodding him for something more. But, nothing came. He simply stared back at me, unblinkingly. “I listen!” I shouted with a heart on fire. “I listen more than anyone I know!” The coyote continued his staring game, quieting my bosomed flames. Stubborn - they erupted, something ugly, from the valley, into the mountaintop. Spilling from eyes, in the mountainside, I screamed back into his so loud, The mountain ached from its shut in echo. Patient " the coyote waited. So, I stopped. Somehow surprised, I found that, after the flames subsided into greys of ashes, in silence, I had begun to listen. That coyote’s eyes were urging eyes, unmoving " unrelenting. Obedient, I drew forth my worn, careful bag out and placed it, gently, in the dirt between us. The coyote snatched it, in the grain between our breaths, and held it between clenched teeth. I glared at him with challenging eyes " he stared back at me, just the same. I reached out to grab it, but halfway there, I heard the coyote command me, “Stop.” The coyote lay there, my ashes raging about loudly " still silent, my bag between his teeth. As the ashes settled, his glaring eyes mellowed, and I watched as he gobbled it up. -- A crow cawed somewhere. The full moon shone down approvingly. My soul sighed once. My body followed. The coyote slept - I bowed my head in silence.
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30
I have been sailing through the somewhat dangerous sea of life, seeking the new world where there is peace, love, happiness, wisdom, and compassion. I sought it inside the mind and body. So, I found crazy mantras and incomprehensible chants and ways to sit that once broke my ankle, and a practice of quieting the mind that nearly killed me. So this morning, on Christopher Columbus Day, I found the true mantra for me and the true chant for me, the true words which will bring love, peace, happiness, wisdom and compassion, and they are love, peace, happiness, wisdom and compassion. So now I have found my new world. Happy Christopher Everson Day!
0
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 8:20 AM UTC
Happy Christopher Everson Day!
Standing in the river today Bits of me still longed to go. Float down stream. Leave. There was a slight voice, a murmur now, This feeling that now feels foreign, Thoughts of disappearing with the currents movement. Following my natural inclination to Move. This voice was once a constant, My response to the things that got hard. Move on. Be contained by the Shores edge and Flow. Change, allow the wind to push You along. Race with the fishes. My fish friends, never understood why People eat them. They are founding members of us. Hold within them things we've long lost. They race with me though, Dipping and diving around the soft rounded river rocks. I love how they feel along my skin, My watery core capable of all dimension. My malleable soul. No one knows how comfortable it is With change. I was broken in, Made to embrace it. Though today , I didn't feel so Impatient. The longing to reunite with the oceans Oneness, it's collection of me. My call is quieting. Softening, healing is being felt. Infection is spreading, Stretched out over Her body. My feet graze over the Shores pebbles, Feeling lazy. Swimming isn't necessary. Today we must stay standing, At the edge of the river. Holding each other up. Coaxing a belief we can make something We all can trust... This faith in me is what I really have to offer to us, to our collective rising... I believe in humanity. I believe in me. And you, that WE Have the ability to create anew. That our hearts, together, see the steps Begin within. And as friends on this Journey of US, We meld hands, fingers wrapping Around knuckles and rings. Hold tight darling, This river can be strong. Your hand slides on my softened skin, I hear the connection, I breath. Thank God you're home.
0
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 2:48 AM UTC
feet in water
Standing in the river today Bits of me still longed to go. Float down stream. Leave. There was a slight voice, a murmur now, This feeling that now feels foreign, Thoughts of disappearing with the currents movement. Following my natural inclination to Move. This voice was once a constant, My response to the things that got hard. Move on. Be contained by the Shores edge and Flow. Change, allow the wind to push You along. Race with the fishes. My fish friends, never understood why People eat them. They are founding members of us. Hold within them things we've long lost. They race with me though, Dipping and diving around the soft rounded river rocks. I love how they feel along my skin, My watery core capable of all dimension. My malleable soul. No one knows how comfortable it is With change. I was broken in, Made to embrace it. Though today , I didn't feel so Impatient. The longing to reunite with the oceans Oneness, it's collection of me. My call is quieting. Softening, healing is being felt. Infection is spreading, Stretched out over Her body. My feet graze over the Shores pebbles, Feeling lazy. Swimming isn't necessary. Today we must stay standing, At the edge of the river. Holding each other up. Coaxing a belief we can make something We all can trust... This faith in me is what I really have to offer to us, to our collective rising... I believe in humanity. I believe in me. And you, that WE Have the ability to create anew. That our hearts, together, see the steps Begin within. And as friends on this Journey of US, We meld hands, fingers wrapping Around knuckles and rings. Hold tight darling, This river can be strong. Your hand slides on my softened skin, I hear the connection, I breath. Thank God you're home.
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60
Its Tuesday, You turn off your movie, Ready to get to bed. You wonder what time it way be, And suddenly, you regret your movie watching spree. Five minutes to midnight. You panic, Remembering that gigantic, Test you have the next morning. You scramble to put your laptop away, Trying not to crumble your essay, Into your book bag with the rest of your school things. You lie under your cover, Only to discover, It is 4 minutes till midnight. You close your eyes, Only seeing the lies, You told about going to sleep hours before. You toss and turn. Realizing you may never be able to adjourn, You movie night brain. Your eyes wonder off, What they see makes you cough. 3 more minutes till midnight. You gasp, Just wishing you would just clasp, a sweet visit to dream land. You then hear the loud thunder, And start to wonder. . . Is it giants? Stomping angrily from the heavens? Or dancing with glee in groups of sevens? And then, as you think, You suddenly need a drink! You get out bed, accidentally hitting your head! You grab a drink from the kitchen, Scooping up your kitten, As you go back upstairs. You spot the clock, You feel as if you need to knock, on wood as it is 1 minute to midnight. You crawl back into bed, listening to you kittens purring, You feel the fur ball stirring, trying to get comfortable. The giants above quieting down, You see no reason to frown. You close your eyes, and take a deep breath. You did not get a visit from death, But you did get to sleep, Just as your clock hit, Midnight.
0
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
Midnight
Its Tuesday, You turn off your movie, Ready to get to bed. You wonder what time it way be, And suddenly, you regret your movie watching spree. Five minutes to midnight. You panic, Remembering that gigantic, Test you have the next morning. You scramble to put your laptop away, Trying not to crumble your essay, Into your book bag with the rest of your school things. You lie under your cover, Only to discover, It is 4 minutes till midnight. You close your eyes, Only seeing the lies, You told about going to sleep hours before. You toss and turn. Realizing you may never be able to adjourn, You movie night brain. Your eyes wonder off, What they see makes you cough. 3 more minutes till midnight. You gasp, Just wishing you would just clasp, a sweet visit to dream land. You then hear the loud thunder, And start to wonder. . . Is it giants? Stomping angrily from the heavens? Or dancing with glee in groups of sevens? And then, as you think, You suddenly need a drink! You get out bed, accidentally hitting your head! You grab a drink from the kitchen, Scooping up your kitten, As you go back upstairs. You spot the clock, You feel as if you need to knock, on wood as it is 1 minute to midnight. You crawl back into bed, listening to you kittens purring, You feel the fur ball stirring, trying to get comfortable. The giants above quieting down, You see no reason to frown. You close your eyes, and take a deep breath. You did not get a visit from death, But you did get to sleep, Just as your clock hit, Midnight.
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55
through the silence of the dawn of light, through the silence of the sun set at night, through the silence all through the halls, through the silence befalls peace to settle temporary brawls, silence everywhere, quieting all through the silence comes peace of mind, through the silence we rest as one of mankind, through the silence comes great inventions, through the silence we release past tensions, silence everywhere, quieting all through the silence leaves not one voice to be heard, through the silence blurred between the lines of the absolutely absurd, through the silence one's thoughts might go wild, through the silence past deviance's can be reconciled, silence everywhere, quieting all
0
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 3:20 PM UTC
through the silence
All these whiskey loving gentlemen, Just trying to find some peace again. They're fighting off questions, Of their intentions and their existance. They run the night with wild women, And they always walk with rhythm. And it's quieting their demons, But they're screaming for a reason.
0
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 10:16 PM UTC
Listen.
Nights caress me with softer subtleties, to lull insecurities into restless sleep. Tossing and turning is bad for the soul, bed sheets, twisting around legs, creep into nightmares of suffocating solitude. Darkness surrounds me with quieting conscience, thoughts seeping through deafened ears, from days of listening, onto blacketed pillows, which only wanted shelter from countless tears cried through years of reddened eyes and bleeding hearts. Sparks fly like rocket ships to remind me that second chances only come to those in love, showered in towers of rose buds and daffodils, be them weeds or strange symbols of white dove affection, raining on all stuck unguarded, sans protection.
0
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 2:14 PM UTC
sans protection
Why do I try with you? I can never win. It's like building up the biggest sandcastle so far away from the ocean, Yet you bring a bucket full of water and pour it out until it's just mush. It's like fixing up a heart that is barely beating almost to full recovery, Yet you grab it once again and dig your nails into it until it withers. It's like bringing my head up from the tides to breathe for air, Yet you grab my head and push me back down into the water. It's like being worn out from a long day walking drenched by my rain cloud, Yet you barge into my safe home with words as loud and hurtful as thunder. It's like quieting the sad blue baby to sleep after hours of constant crying, Yet you wake it back up once again with your own terrifying screaming. Only I am the one crying until I awaken with puffy red eyes. ... It just feels unfair and frustrating, to feel so high and crash back down in a matter of seconds. It's always the times where I feel alive, where I feel like I can walk. And then I feel your hands push me back onto the ground, As I listen to you blame me for not standing strong enough. How doing this will leave me permanently scraped on the knees. How my weak knees will force me to become a failure. ... Sometimes I wonder how life would be without you. Would I be happy? Probably, but my mom wouldn't. It's the lesser of the two. The latter of who is most important. It's either the one you fell in love first while the other was forced. It's abandoning the one that has less to lose. The potential gain you receive from the kisses my mom gives you. and I am the opportunity cost of your relationship with her, it seems. You chose this life, yet you act like you despise it. It makes me fear growing up, if growing up means to become cold and erratic. ... Everyone wonders why it all affects me so much. Very rarely do I get a break from the endless vast that holds me in its arms. But when its tired arms puts me down, I'm able to walk freely. I can breathe again, I can feel again, I can smile again, I can be me again. Until you command the vast to hold me much tighter than before. And I drink in the vast and let it soak into my brain as it leaks out my eyes. And I can't help but do what I'm conditioned to do: blame myself. I'm just the loss from the gain. the chaos from the calm. the bad from the good. the pain from the pleasure. the black from the white. the second from the first and let me tell you... 2nd ***** But you wouldn't care.
0
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC
Opportunity Cost
Why do I try with you? I can never win. It's like building up the biggest sandcastle so far away from the ocean, Yet you bring a bucket full of water and pour it out until it's just mush. It's like fixing up a heart that is barely beating almost to full recovery, Yet you grab it once again and dig your nails into it until it withers. It's like bringing my head up from the tides to breathe for air, Yet you grab my head and push me back down into the water. It's like being worn out from a long day walking drenched by my rain cloud, Yet you barge into my safe home with words as loud and hurtful as thunder. It's like quieting the sad blue baby to sleep after hours of constant crying, Yet you wake it back up once again with your own terrifying screaming. Only I am the one crying until I awaken with puffy red eyes. ... It just feels unfair and frustrating, to feel so high and crash back down in a matter of seconds. It's always the times where I feel alive, where I feel like I can walk. And then I feel your hands push me back onto the ground, As I listen to you blame me for not standing strong enough. How doing this will leave me permanently scraped on the knees. How my weak knees will force me to become a failure. ... Sometimes I wonder how life would be without you. Would I be happy? Probably, but my mom wouldn't. It's the lesser of the two. The latter of who is most important. It's either the one you fell in love first while the other was forced. It's abandoning the one that has less to lose. The potential gain you receive from the kisses my mom gives you. and I am the opportunity cost of your relationship with her, it seems. You chose this life, yet you act like you despise it. It makes me fear growing up, if growing up means to become cold and erratic. ... Everyone wonders why it all affects me so much. Very rarely do I get a break from the endless vast that holds me in its arms. But when its tired arms puts me down, I'm able to walk freely. I can breathe again, I can feel again, I can smile again, I can be me again. Until you command the vast to hold me much tighter than before. And I drink in the vast and let it soak into my brain as it leaks out my eyes. And I can't help but do what I'm conditioned to do: blame myself. I'm just the loss from the gain. the chaos from the calm. the bad from the good. the pain from the pleasure. the black from the white. the second from the first and let me tell you... 2nd ***** But you wouldn't care.
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49
In solitude I sit quieting my mind with peace and stillness all around my inner self I find A tranquility so beautiful A silenced deafening roar of normal life that carries on beyond this temple door Colours vivid, vibrant hues a clarity unmatched shattered like glass the moment that the door became unlatched Try as I might the moment lost at least for now it seems My meditation gave just a hint a taste of the serene.
0
Mar 17, 2010
Mar 17, 2010 at 5:41 PM UTC
Peace
*I am sorry darling            our paths part here a bell's loud toll               encourages pace               it sets me free It's been a long day        the suns set                        finally               my eyes can rest                 in light embraced hold on to my fragments without lament                for the night is generous                       quieting the rain I am sorry darling           we must part ways remember eternally:                     you are part of me            it's til I see you                     that goodnight I bid my heart stays whole and with you remains*
0
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 2:50 AM UTC
good night, I bid
The air whispers in my ear every day, but I don’t hear it. Musical notes turn into background pollution that only my body listens to- not me. A fleeting flock of images roars past my eyes, in a rapid swerve, lost without a destination. I don’t see them anymore. My friends offer me pleasantries of company and laughter, and still I become petrified, quieting further, into my conscience. Smell has lost its scent. Colors have lost their brightness. Time has lost its speed. Touching has lost all sensitivity. Suddenly, restraints around my wrists have receded their pressure- the occasional aching of the heart has not returned for a visit and a tall cuppa Joe in a while. The city lights run quickly past my perception in their usual mute chattering, but this time, I am withdrawn from inclusion. I have arrived on the monolith that is my spirit. Look! I can open and close my hand. This is fascinating! What is that?! It’s like a coating behind all things. I wonder if I can touch it… I had never realized just how ALIVE I really am. It feels funny. I can actually feel myself existing…! How weird is that? I can’t help but smile as I quietly dissolve. And yet… …I can actually feel myself existing!
0
Nov 12, 2011
Nov 12, 2011 at 1:39 AM UTC
My Idea of a Landscape
I am having trouble writing. It is as if there is a wall of bulletproof glass separating me from the words that are dying to escape the metal cage they are kept in. I am the only one with a key sitting comfortably in the pockets of my jeans, but no matter how hard I pound my fists against the wall, I do not get any closer to quieting the agonizing screams emerging from the trap. They get louder, aching for liberation, tethering their syllables around the bars as they sit, confined within a reality I am desperate to free them from. They are starving to live. I can see the outlines of their bones through the transparent letters that blanket their elastic limbs, each day growing more tired, forgetting the taste of hope every minute that passes. I can feel them collecting dust, shrinking down to fragile skeletons that have begun to lose meaning. What if one day I will no longer be able to see them? What if one day I have nothing left to save? I am starving to live. I cannot feel love without a knife stuck wedged in the back of my throat reminding me that I have nothing to describe it with. I can give all of myself to the one who thankfully accepts it but my teeth chatter at the thought of having to apologize for stealing joy from the cookie jar. I am sorry for having no words to say sorry. They told me to tell you that they are sorry for their absence, but I do not know how to say this without them. For now, I am waiting. The same way I do for Fridays, for your call, for my heartbeat to obey the speed limit, for time to run dry. I will continue to wait patiently, tiredly, averting my eyes to the hopes that maybe tomorrow, they will be small enough to squeeze through the bars and set me free.
0
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
Hostage
I am having trouble writing. It is as if there is a wall of bulletproof glass separating me from the words that are dying to escape the metal cage they are kept in. I am the only one with a key sitting comfortably in the pockets of my jeans, but no matter how hard I pound my fists against the wall, I do not get any closer to quieting the agonizing screams emerging from the trap. They get louder, aching for liberation, tethering their syllables around the bars as they sit, confined within a reality I am desperate to free them from. They are starving to live. I can see the outlines of their bones through the transparent letters that blanket their elastic limbs, each day growing more tired, forgetting the taste of hope every minute that passes. I can feel them collecting dust, shrinking down to fragile skeletons that have begun to lose meaning. What if one day I will no longer be able to see them? What if one day I have nothing left to save? I am starving to live. I cannot feel love without a knife stuck wedged in the back of my throat reminding me that I have nothing to describe it with. I can give all of myself to the one who thankfully accepts it but my teeth chatter at the thought of having to apologize for stealing joy from the cookie jar. I am sorry for having no words to say sorry. They told me to tell you that they are sorry for their absence, but I do not know how to say this without them. For now, I am waiting. The same way I do for Fridays, for your call, for my heartbeat to obey the speed limit, for time to run dry. I will continue to wait patiently, tiredly, averting my eyes to the hopes that maybe tomorrow, they will be small enough to squeeze through the bars and set me free.
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7
words like bullets. i don't want them to hit me. i don't want to bleed. i don't want you to hurt me. i don't want you to shoot. i don't want you to wake up/ get out of bed/ get dressed/ look at me like that/ close your eyes/ turn around/ turn back/ speak/ turn around/ leave. but your tongue's on the trigger, and my heart's beating fast. and i'm closing my eyes, counting seconds, counting sheep because you can't hurt me when i'm asleep. i won't feel a thing. you're pulling the trigger and my mouth is quieting the racing bullets, but although they're muffled they still hit my ears, the pain travelling to my heart. i bite your tongue too hard and you bleed into my mouth and i try to forget that you said "i'm sorry." and i watch you, everything in me still. everything in me is lifeless.
0
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 4:44 PM UTC
trigger
on a starless, moonless evening a fissure quakes open as time stands still stench gasses hiss a fissure quakes open the earth moans hauntingly, eerily stench gasses hiss an unmarked corner of the cemetery the earth moans hauntingly, eerily an unspeakable evil imprisoned an unmarked corner of the cemetery hidden from the vaults of hell an unspeakable evil imprisoned stone angels stand their ground hidden from the vaults of hell great is their power stone angels stand their ground an aura of authority great is their power without words the trembling ceases an aura of authority quieting the yawning earth without words the trembling ceases closing its lips tight quieting the yawning earth silent sentinels prove their worth closing its lips tight no evil will escape tonight silent sentinels prove their worth on a starless, moonless evening no evil will escape tonight as time stands still
0
Oct 15, 2010
Oct 15, 2010 at 10:34 AM UTC
All Hallows Eve
The dying gaul, in my mind, saw three days of mad war. Empire had come to batter, the forests that stood the doors of home. Swords were run through the woodland gulleys, making way for culture's end, for yet more roads to lead to Rome. And the sculpture speaks, upon a shield, of limbs for quieting dreams to rely on. A veined marble hand kisses lightly to the knee, saying in some wild, dead tongue: "Sleep. So long have you carried me."
0
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 6:35 PM UTC
Dreams Rely
I can hear you smiling and picture your embrace your words so beguiling a gentle touch, upon my face Every time and every way soothing, as you go removing angst, and anger your voice, affects me so Melody and musically to calm my savage breast eloquent and beautifully my mind and heart, at rest A song I hear, and see every time, you're near removing my anxiety quieting my fears
0
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 9:44 AM UTC
Her effect