"quirked" poems
Harsh light falls on my fearful face
She stop thumped against my heart
Gliding night on crinkled tights
She worked and quirked her way in to me
Shoulders clinched as she spun her drift
She stomped trod on my soul
Set aloft in the ***** air
My eyes slopped their tears
Wet down her hair as she clenched
Lips dragged drug down my neck
Lamp lit light flung down and low
Fearful thoughts because I’ll crawl back
Fearsome thoughts as she works again.
cc1210
Dec 27, 2010
Dec 27, 2010 at 2:37 PM UTC
“i am a god!”
he yelled
with shaking fists
and a beat-red face.
his knees scabbed
and his blood flowing freely
onto the cemented ground.
she stared down at him,
eyebrow quirked
and a hint of a smile.
sword pointed
and ready for battle.
“you may be a god,
but i am hades.
and i bow to no one.”
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 6:58 PM UTC
It’s Saturday morning. I’m at the acorn, my favorite coffee shop, on my iPad and deep in concentration. I’m time traveling back, to things seen and said, trying to create a story poem about recent happenings - or failing that - something quick and arbitrary.
I hear an “Ahem” and look up. A skinny, twenty-something man, with tousled black hair, clumsily dressed in drab browns and tans, was standing before me - a satchel over one shoulder and a coffee in hand. “May I join you?” He asked.
I looked around, there was only one other empty seat available, far at the back. “Sure,” I said, then, noticing my book bag filled the empty chair. I said “Sorry,” and moved it to the floor.
He took a seat.
He introduces himself, “Peter, “ he says.
“Anais,” I say, going back to my writing.
After a second he says, “What are you writing?”
“Poetry,” I answered, not looking up.
“So, something imaginary,” he said, it sounded condescending and irritating.
“Are you a student?” I asked, looking up to watch him settling in.
“Particle physics,” he says, cutting directly to the chase.
“Things too small to see,” I said. “Imaginary things,” I add a moment later, in revenge.
His mouth quirked, the suggestion of a smile dancing at the corners of his lips. He finished his coffee after a while and left. I saw him on campus a time or two after that - we would nod.
Then one thundering gray Saturday morning he was back. “Ahem,” he said. Then a moment later, before I could even look up, “ May I join you?” I looked up, and then around - there were plenty of seats. ”We can be imaginary friends,” he says. I smiled and nodded ok.
Feb 27, 2022
Feb 27, 2022 at 9:13 AM UTC
"Find the loophole, step on through;
to a fantastic place; to you it's new!"
the Ringmaster bellowed into the crowd
his corners all quirked and perked.
"If nothing is aboslute, then isn't that an absolute?"
"Your clipped wings and speech have tethered you, birds of a feather!
whisper Can you not see? (They're all on their toes)
Someone else controls you and he and she and we and you can't do anything without them knowing exactly what you do!
Your revolutions? Why, they are only circles!"
"All you can do is stretch and push these rules and binds.
Shape them as you will with the will of your mind.
There is always an exception, there are no exceptions.
Tend to your flock, I'll tend to mine
In this we have our own confine."
They all jeered with comical cheer
for the show had been quite queer
Apr 17, 2011
Apr 17, 2011 at 9:27 PM UTC
my bed lays a vessel,
a machine -
quirked with the finest devices,
blankets upon blankets like a lost sea
a place to check in with my thoughts
and check out with my daydreams
a place
to rest
and dream of what could be
a place
to wrap my heart around
the way things should be
my bed lays a vessel
a whimsy machine
checking out with my nightmares
checking in with my daydreams
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 5:37 AM UTC
and it goes like this:
one day you will look at me
and tell me i'm beautiful like
you always do and i will
not be able to take it anymore
i've been trying hard not to
be in love with you like i know i always
have been, because since day one
i never wanted to just **** you or lie to you
or push you away
i just
wanted
you
beautiful you, with
your quirked eyebrow and your
mother's nose and your love of
stormy afternoons and most recently
me
(i think about you all the time)
you tell me, like i don't understand
but one day you will learn that
i have written hundreds of lines of
poetry about you and i hope that they
will make you
smile
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
Sentient street,
As we walk through the gates of sentience,
Like a child,I quirked my head,
Left~right and back with innocence,
To glimpse at their seemly slums;a nimble haul of dread,
Tucked me,as I gander the miscellany artistry,
The winsome combs on their chambers,
By builders and framers,
For all;but the aesthetics I knew belonged to the affluent,
An erudition I needed not to imbibe as a student,
Oblivious of myself;I spotted their melancholic eyes in their inscriptions,
And read the histories and encryptions,
The stares they gave tremored my heart,
And tore the arteries apart,
My soul wept for their bereavement but tears was deficit in my eyes,
As I march to the yard of his repose;I said"A journey we shall all embark"
Gawking at the annexation of other chambers,as grief berserks,
I got there,
I stood meters afar and stared,
As the priest blessed the yard;And prayed for his soul,
Conferring him into the bossom of his maker,
And instructing the digger afterwards;to dump him into the hole,
His folks quaker,
And bade him their farewell with flowers,
In their last hour,
But as they fetch sands and stones to wrap him,
In their faces I saw grim,
When the diggers spat and slapped;his coffin with stones and shovels,
For this has been their long awaited muscle,
And in deligence;they deliver,
"This journey I will embark too"I said,
As I stood in my shiver,
And withdrew and left in mopes.
Sentient Street
©Historian E.Lexano
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC
a sigh into my breast
timid, your smile pressed to my neck
you gaze up at me
a quirked lip and bated breath
"your eyes are the oceans" i whisper
adrift in your tides
swept up from the shores
the rhythm of the waves beat with your heart, so close to mine
our love the moon
keeping the tempo of the tide
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
the edges of his cupid’s bow lips quirked
up with the rising sun and I thought that perhaps
I had been shot by one of his arrows—
young love, young cherub,
how reckless we are.
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 7:44 PM UTC
She seemed fine from afar,
from the place i've been sitting
she has been laughing and teasing
with her some of friends
this gotta be interesting, my mind said
after the group left her alone
the true color of her appeared
it changed my perception
the laughter became thin line of smile
that only God knows what the meaning it was
she slumped down to her sit
maybe she hoped the earth swallowed her abruptly
our eyes met and the feeling stuck on my lungs
how many times you ever got breathless
from the latter's sadness
how many people could be that beautiful
with dark cloud over her head
she was beautiful with her own grey world
her eyes tantalized me, her eyebrow quirked
it brought my lips to smirk
i could felt the air around me ******
by countless reason how the silence
felt like the choir of delighted cupids
her hair traced by the wind
as her eyelashes flicked in amusing
if you just take a look, if you
you would see that she didn't want any
but the pure attention and intention
if you just listen, if you
you would shake by the loudest scream
in the way her back slumped and her forest sighed
she was a thunderstorm and i was the sooth voice
she was a burning forest and i was raging ocean
she was a fuming railway and i was a barrel feeling
if you just stop judging about irony, if you
you would see the harmony within us
like the father kissed your forehead in the middle of night
promised everything would be better in the tomorrow morning
when you slept in anxiety and begged for mercy
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 10:48 PM UTC
how does everything feel so whole
& yet so empty?
how do you fill everything
with a gaze, fleeting
how do you question everything
with a quirked brow, a pursed lip?
how do you fill everything
with a surety in an outstretched
hand, should i place mine
in your palm, should i answer your
questions with a small smile?
fill your sadness into my vessel,
take your pain into my bones?
let it settle like it's nestled
in a home of enamel and dried blood?
how do you repair a fractured heart?
with whispered promises
against the nape? with late-night
proclamations and ramblings,
locked secrets from deep within
the corridors of our minds
should we reside in head-space
or pulsing heart? should we etch
a title into skin and teeth or leave
them unmarked? i wonder...
i wonder ...
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 8:40 PM UTC
Observable words
turning in circles
perfectly working
affirmed in impermanence
Serpents within swirls
swerve in the verve
curvature burned irksome
turbidity skinned earnest
Journal pearls quirked
turpentine turbulence
since worries serve nervousness
the cure in spurts of churlishness
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 4:07 PM UTC
I love you, you ,you....
She kept on muttering,
Tears spilling.
In the hospital bed,
I looked at her with caution,
I just stared,
I quirked my eyebrows,
I blinked my eyes,
Under the bedsheet I squirmed,
I do not know her from Adam,
Who is this stranger?
Why do I to her matter?
She looked at me with love,
Gazed at me tenderly like a dove,
She came closer,
Whisperd sorry words in my ears,
She hugged me tight,
I found it right.
That tender look
Those azure blue eyes
That familiar perfume,
The warm touch in that hug,
That lovely voice,
Something clicked,
At first the images blurred,
As she started to leave in distress,
I saw the diamond ring,
Everything became clear.
I had proposed,
The engagement
The last kiss under the moonlight.
She had landed a new job,
Better pay with all the perks,
A job she had wanted so much,
She would have to move.
She wanted to postpone the marriage,
I was adamant,
The ultimatum, me or job,
The fight,
The fatal accident.
I still loved her,
I called her name,a mere whisper,
She turned crying,
Came to me running,
She was remorse,
She had refused the job,
My being in her life was more important,
My absence would have shattered her,
We kissed, hugged and cuddled,
Shouted together,"I love you."
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
There's something insidious
In the way she smiles
Quirked lips painted blood red
Eyes foggy and greased with thick shadows
She'll purr, her tongue tickling your skin
Every word she breathes is air to your lungs
Poisoned with smoke
She's an aphrodisiac
She'll make you forget everything
Fill you with nothing
Until your brain is swollen
And numbness settles into the deepest scars
You'll think of nothing but her
And the way she smiles
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 12:23 AM UTC
I smiled,
All the while,
It was as false
As a dice.
The came my laughter,
It was bitter,
Uncontrollable tears fell thereafter.
On the floor I sagged,
Within me a volcano raged,
Me,I, myself ditched!!
When many I had dumped.
All the wedding plans had been made,
All the time I was misled,
Not me, my best friend he wanted.
Suicide? Not my kind,
****** Was on my mind.
Then I realised,
The magma in me subsided,
With despair I smirked,
My eyebrows quirked,
Many I had jilted,
They must have been brokenhearted,
You reap what you sow,
In time, may be,I will find the right beau.
In the meantime I will rest,
Hot scented baths,soft music,
delicious food, the best.
Perhaps, a move to the countryside,
With family and old friends by my side.
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 4:30 AM UTC
Have they changed their color?
Has the odious gray fog seeped and sweat across his eyes silently concealing resentment for you?
Has his eyebrows quirked and scorned at your words, has his mouth flexed against the fiery brush?
Have pupils swelled catastrophically into black holes denying the mind of order, rampant with chaos?
Have the monsoons of desire crushed your sanity,
Has she tainted your memories with splintered, broken glass?
Has your conscious been deflated, slashed by the deceiving hands of a love so massive it crumbled the earth below you!?
Have the waters of that sorrow drenched your clothes and sloshed the mud of years of mental clenching, under your bare toes?
If this be true, how come you stand ignorant on the roofs of your drowning houses crying for the birds to sing to you, only to have the vultures screeching down apon you,
"Why did you scare them all away" ?
-----------
Do you understand now?
You may reside in this land of debris and trash and broken things, but tis your home you will wallow in.
To live in places of this kind, where the sun doesn't shine and the birds don't sing, is on your own doing,
your own catastrophe, your own problem.
Your own problem.
I can guide you, but only you can rebuild you.
This is my last stop,
I'm done riding your manic train of thought.
I cannot give to those who chase after storms,
for the eye of the storm is,
and always will be
a placid façade surrounded in death.
©Dylan Christopher Whisman
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC
Lips quirked
Eyebrows raised
You ask a question
But avoid my gaze
Well-wishes received
I laugh as they say
“You know, you just have to
Take it day by day”
Stalked by pity
Encouraged by winks
I’m suffocated by support
But wonder what he thinks
Birds on my shoulder
Sing for my benefit
“You can do so much better,
We never liked him, not one bit”
Now here we stand
To say it’s tense is least
Polar opposites in place
Where heartbeats once increased
A decade between us
Both tired & grey
He asks how I am
And I smile as I say
I’m terrible, but thanks for asking anyway
Oct 6, 2019
Oct 6, 2019 at 10:08 AM UTC