"reappeared" poems
The blunt surface and wooden *****
Confined within impenetrable walls
However reverb dangerously.
Numbers reappeared to disorientate me.
It was the lion I sought advice from
For a dove that had been travelling with a rose
With a weight as heavy as its wings
Against the torrent of winds and sky.
I counted the time as if I were a clock.
Gently did it leave while I was not looking,
Its music turned down by long fingers
That lightly grazed the glasses
Like tracing back the steps that I at first hastened.
Never again will I see with my lashes curled by
Its own Evening Dew.
I only pray that the silver soldier marches
Next to me with armor close to my chest
Close to my eyes so no gaze could ever penetrate.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 11:47 AM UTC
#(a travelogue)
He stared down through
the unbroken silence
lapping the shoreline
Water skippers dart around
the rocks and windfall driftwood
settled juxtaposed in cattail reeds
and emerging broadleaf sprouts
A petrified heartwood timber
lie fallow waiting bare barked,
hushed like a pining lover’s
timeworn love seat,
rubbed smooth as
the crystalline waters
of half-moon lake
Lingering for a while ―
like a hidden stalker,
a perched wildcat waiting
for the full moon’s
swooning spell to saturate
the thickening dusk quietude;
arousing the urgent
call of the wild —
exhaled from the held breath
of the wilderness nocturne
on half-moon lake
The stillness was scattered
with the soft downy hairs
of the sleeping cattails, and
the newly shed catkins
a spring gust bestrewed
from a tall resin birch tree
nigh the Sitka willows
He sat quietly ...
time out of mind ―
tossing his eyes up into the sky;
taking the time to read the stars ―
catching them each again
as they fell into his gentle hands,
to show him who he was
Seeing their sparkly tracers
trail-out above the cattails,
from a distance
they resembled falling stars
unable to perceive their own renaissance ―
plashing lightly upon the still-water
on half-moon lake
A lone shadow glides stealthily
near mid-tarn,.. swimming
enchantingly with the grace
of a blackswan
Appearing to glance shoreward
at the glowing low stars
rise and fall, as his eyes
twinkled skyward over
the moonlit lagoon ―
heavenward of its moonlit ballet;
the lone sleek dark shadow
slipping through
a faint circular ripple
stirring the smooth as glass waters ―
disappearing like a fleeting moment
waning deep aneath
a subtle silent wake.
When all the clear lines blurred,
he knew it had been so long ...
but hearken !
… an interceding
long drawn out wail
echoed a feral ache
across the stillness,
breaking the silence ―
as the shadow reappeared;
his tears surrendered
to the undulating call of the wild;
he felt the spirit of the sole Loon,
as black and white
as the moonlit night,
stir deeply in his wanting heart ―
lay bare the silence
in lengthy yodeled psalms
to the god of the moon
Diving down deep yet again,
keeping the light he’d been given,
vanishing into the lifespring
sanctuary of half-moon lake
harlon rivers ... May 2018
travelogue: 4 of some more
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 2:36 PM UTC
Never would I have thought
What this piece of paper had brought
Inked in its first days
It uplifted us into a golden age
but as its letters faded and disappeared
the king and his madmen reappeared
with his forged steel and crude command
The paper was soon banned
now the ink has evaporated
and the paper has lost its grace
our future is ill-fated
tomorrow comes the stone age
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 9:03 AM UTC
In only minutes, surging wind brought rain, then pounding hail into this verdant canyon. The mountain disappeared into the mist, and in its place the full arc of a brightening rainbow. Almost as quickly, the mountain's face reappeared, while more rain poured down, now through brilliant sunlight. The rainbow remains, plunging its feet into the very roots of the valley.
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
the first time we kissed you initiated it
you were nervous (i think)
and i.. i wanted you.
so badly
to hold your hand
to feel your heart beat
to touch your lips with mine
i hadnt kissed anyone in over 6 months
i lost count; a blur of lips
and tastes,
and people who never even mattered even then in a fruitless attempt
to find a pair that rivaled yours
about a month ago, you reappeared
the second time we kissed (after about 2 yrs) i initiated it
and. it. was. wonderful.
in the morning you asked if you could kiss me again anytime soon
if it was alright
what i said was yes
but what i meant was
in the second kiss i realized yours are the only lips i could ever want for the rest of forever
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 12:57 AM UTC
Among the blight-killed eucalypts, among
trees and bushes rusted by Christmas frosts,
the yards and hillsides exhausted by five years of drought,
certain airy white blossoms punctually
reappeared, and dense clusters of pale pink, dark pink--
a delicate abundance. They seemed
like guests arriving joyfully on the accustomed
festival day, unaware of the year's events, not perceiving
the sackcloth others were wearing.
To some of us, the dejected landscape consorted well
with our shame and bitterness. Skies ever-blue,
daily sunshine, disgusted us like smile-buttons.
Yet the blossoms, clinging to thin branches
more lightly than birds alert for flight,
lifted the sunken heart
even against its will.
But not
as symbols of hope: they were flimsy
as our resistance to the crimes committed
--again, again--in our name; and yes, they return,
year after year, and yes, they briefly shone with serene joy
over against the dark glare
of evil days. They are, and their presence
is quietness ineffable--and the bombings are, were,
no doubt will be; that quiet, that huge cacophany
simultaneous. No promise was being accorded, the blossoms
were not doves, there was no rainbow. And when it was claimed
the war had ended, it had not ended.
2.2k
it always remain unnoticed -
my tears
the day i first walked
past the gates of my school
holding my mother's hands
a little drop...
from nowhere
swept past my eyes
and dripped from my lashes
but it was June....
and suddenly a gush of water
pouring from heavens
swept my tears
along with the downpour
the saline drop from my eyes
merged with the rain
and my tears remain unnoticed.......
the day my friends
teased me of my greasy hair
again a drop dripped to my cheeks
but my mates playfully
threw water on me
and the drops of sorrow
was washed away......
the day i hurt my knees
and blood came oozing through the cut
unknowingly the tears reappeared.
but the strong blowing wind
soon dried them up
and once again they remained unnoticed......
even at night
when nightmares make me sweat
tears flood my eyes
but the pillows soak them up
and yet again they remain unnoticed.....
the day of our farewell,
when i stood behind the mike
tears from nowhere
formed in my eyes
but it remained unnoticed
yet again by the lights of camera flashes......
even now when i sob
over the lines of this poem
and a fountain of tears
flow from my eyes
it remain unnoticed
coz i've locked myself up
and there is nobody to watch these tears
except my shadow......
people call me brave
'cause i never cry.....
'cause they've never seen tears in my eyes.....
they call me brave
'cause my tears remain unnoticed.....
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 10:57 AM UTC
"And when your fourth love leaves you. You will want to **** yourself, but you won't Because you no longer think of suicide as a house you will build one day" ~ Future Tense by Neil Hilborn.
I keep hoping
That if I keep writing enough about you
About us
What happened and what you did
It'll be written out of the existence of my conscious
That the memories will melt away
As if they were frost coated blades of grass
In a lukewarm spring morning
I care you know
About if you're happy now
Maybe
I keep hoping that if I bleed enough ink
Everything will finally stop
And fall
And reorder itself
That the past five years
Will fade out
Through the tip of this pen
The insecurities will be gone
The trauma will be gone
The memories will be gone
You'll be gone
For good
Never existing
A total and complete stranger
Because who you are now
Isn't who I first met
But that's life right?
People changed
I changed
And it hurt like hell
But after that
Everything melded
Faded together
The sun and moon
Will no longer fight for supremacy behind my closed eyelids
Sadness will finally move out of happiness's home
The unwanted roommate
Never paying their rent
Leaving behind tidbits of loneliness
That would always cover
Your vortex infused days of sun
Cozy winter mornings have reappeared
Snuggled in a blanket
Snow caressing my window sill
A gust turned into
An extinct lovers laugh
Because my days are brighter
My pen is lighter
And the ink that I've bled
Over the past five years
Has finally been staunched
From the incisions
On my ugly blue battered
Gun powder heart.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 1:48 AM UTC
A thick layer of smoke hung in the air and alcohol was pouring through the veins of every teenager living the night away in your friends basement. His parents weren't home and cups littered the ground and just about every flat surface. I remember seeing you sitting in the corner. A sad expression engraved in your face and not even the slightest thing could crack a smile out of you. Later that night I found you sobbing on the bathroom floor. I remember the distinct coldness of the tiled floor as I sat next to you. God, your heart was so broken, she really did you in. It was like a thousand tiny pieces of glass laid out on that bathroom floor. I tried so **** hard to pick up all the pieces, and once you saw me trying, your electrifying smile slowly reappeared. My hands has tiny cuts and bruises all over because there was so much of your broken heart to pick up. Once I finished, I looked up to see you were gone. And that's when I realized my mistake. You didn't need me, you just needed someone. Someone to put you back on your feet and send you on your way, not a silly girl whose heart ached for you, not a silly girl who spent that whole night picking up the shards of your breaking heart, not a silly girl who thought for one second, you needed her back.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
I still have her guitar
The one the church gave her
I started to practice; to learn it’s tune
but when I strummed its brittle strings, her sad voice was all I heard
Her blue-green wrinkled eyes bored through me
Her soft song rang in my ears
I said I needed space, I needed distance from her past
but every time I pick up that old guitar
her silver-grey presence reappeared
What used to be fond memories,
playing in my mind as I held its wooden body close,
transformed into drunken hazes- to a sea of black disguised as blue
……………………………………………………
How can I still practice, still play this guitar
when every time I look at it
I just think of you…
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 9:48 PM UTC
Earth In Reverse
Suddenly I get confused,
feeling like I'm mentally bruised.
Always none the wiser,
tears gushing like a geyser.
Brain cells dying by the dozen,
having *** with a cousin.
****** is the latest thing,
brother and sister having a fling.
Mom and son, dad and daughter,
contaminated is all the water.
Earth is now spinning backwards,
trees are shrinking and no more birds.
Crime at an all time high,
hot in January, cold in July.
Sunrise in west, sunset in east,
no more beauty, only beast.
Islands in the ocean are now gone,
no more money to be withdrawn.
Time is now moving in reverse,
could things get any worse.
Tectonic plates moving Continents back together,
caused by water, earthquakes and bad weather.
Chaos all across the land,
no one seems to understand.
Volcanic eruptions have now blocked the sun,
life as we know it is now done.
When the smoke finally cleared,
dinosaurs have now reappeared.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
A red bird has flown soaring in the great height of the
purple sky. The thrilling scream was as a shrill cry on
the soundtrack. The bird has disappeared into the sky,
and all it could be heard was the sound. That cold sound
became fluid in the ears. A forked green lightning following
a zigzagging pattern appeared from an antimatter space.
The eyes fixed wide-open up, and the mouths kept silent.
A ship has left the dock to disappear in the mobile horizon.
It seemingly disappeared and reappeared based on where
the eyes were looking; the eyes were not able to leave the dock.
When the ship could not be seen, a prolonged blast could be
heard. Finally, the ship disappeared in an antimatter space,
where cold could illuminate and beat the heat to burn everything
as we beat the heat with icy cold neck wraps. The eyes fixed
wide-open toward, and red screams grew from open mouths.
The sun lost its strength to become redder than it was before.
In the twilight, its disk disappeared below the mobile horizon.
Its power was in the spirit and the matter of the freezing cold.
The eyes were unable to see where the sun was going. In the
soft and purple mist, they looked like little amethyst stones.
The violet light slowed down in the water much more than the
red light refracted. The waves of alternating strength in electric and
magnetic fields moved around the Earth in the tick of a clock.
The mouths murmured, but the anti-sound made them all be quiet.
From an airplane in the sky, the eyes could see two rainbows with
colors in opposite order forming a complete circle. The eyes could
move up and down to see the red light that refracted out of
the droplets at steeper angles than the blue light. The mind could
imagine another rainbow made of complementary light wavelengths
such as green, blue, violet, red, orange, yellow-orange and yellow. The
sea shone brightly as a sky full of red and bluish comets having
tails like trains carrying hydrogen cyanide. Strange, sharp and
cutting words wounded the mouths stopping the thoughts to breathe.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
Dark
Mysterious
Eyes that could lure
The most vunerable women
He just raised a finger
His will was done.
Who could match his will
New within the walls
Lurked someone
Who had a will of steel
Much like the weapons
She practiced with
She never spoke
Her eyes would speak for her
The warriors she encountered
Would lay their weapons down
At this ones feet.
He had heard
Of this silent warrior
So summoning her
He waited
To his suprise
She appeared
Standing in the rafters
Watching him
Instead of jumping down
Her image disappeared
And reappeared in front of him.
As he spoke
Her eyed flickered
She was a demon
When he was finished
A smiles crossed her face.
Her voice was barely above a whisper
"Dark Prince..
You summoned me...
Yet...
You cannot fathom....
The power I can unleash...
But I will stay...
But mark my words...
Tonight...
Darkness will forever...
Be your throne..."
She stayed with him
Staying in his shadow
Her demonic eyes
Flicker
Waiting for her time to play
From her Dark Prince.
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 12:45 AM UTC
I read about her somewhere.
...
About a lady in a white bralette.
Always bloomed alongside the flowers, with a scent, that made you look at her like she’s one of them. She came into a life with the waves. Crashed into you like the ocean onto the shore. Her touch was feverish and her steps were light.
Like the falling leaves she tiptoed around you, danced with the flames and got you lost in her madness. The kind of madness, that makes you walk through the forest in the middle of the night. The kind of madness, that erases all gravity and lifts you high up in the sky. The kind of madness, that makes you drop sanity out of the palm of your hands.
But her unexpected visit was just it. A visit. As soon as the wind blew she disappeared. And she was gone. Gone with the wind. The gravity reappeared and your feet we’re back on the ground. The sudden twist of events was often too much for most to handle. I live, but many have fallen deeper in the madness that existed only with her existence.
Their souls will forever be heated, but their eyes will never see again.
If I loved her?
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 9:21 AM UTC
As a little boy he wandered,
explored the forest
of life. One small, smooth
and jagged piece seeking out
those around in hope
that they’d one day
latch together, make a whole.
Trillions, gajillions, infinitillions
of parts, each unique, each
the same in a relative way.
Faces appeared and stayed,
others faded away. Ideas
blossomed gently, exploding
to states of mind, concrete views
or dust scattered with the wind.
Slowly he grew.
Some fear attachment,
but this boy lived for love.
Love for souls, life, ecstasy,
youth, holding hands, dancing,
grooves and groves of wonderment.
Some years went and others didn’t
but this boy(‘s puzzle plot)
had expanded to an extent
unbeknownst to him. Smoke
and mirrors mystify and cloud
the lucid mind.
Sometimes the crystalline clarity
never returns and the pieces fall,
a part of nothing
but ignorantly serene delusions.
This boy got lucky, though.
Some light, some gustling breeze
scattered the foggy reflections,
debilitating for so long.
The natural allure of a young lady
can lift a man from any sinkhole,
be it momentarily or neverending…
He saw those bright brown eyes
shining one day. A sublimely
beautiful face no words justify.
In he walked from the rain
and called out, hey!
So it began, the pieces reappeared.
For now, the others didn’t matter.
Two minute beings in a sea
of colored cardboard fragments,
secure. This girl, she showed him
the big picture, or lack thereof.
She pushed him to create for himself,
for her, them, noone, everything.
So they dreamed.
Aug 12, 2010
Aug 12, 2010 at 9:26 PM UTC
Upon the clouds the figures stood
Clad in milky white, airy robes
They were both in jovial moods and nothing
Could make them downhearted
Staring into each other’s eyes, all problems in the world seemed to fade
But that was their job; they were angels after all
They were supposed to make things easier on the living
To make it as good as they had it
Or so they thought.
The two lovers had been unaware
Of two gleaming red eyes glaring at them
And the tip of a scarlet trident pointing at them
More specifically, the woman angel
With a wicked grin, the Devil struck
With a bolt of lightning shooting out of the trident,
The angel woman dropped, her magnificent white wings covering her
She fell threw the clouds before her partner could react
Becoming a fallen angel.
Tears spilled out of her ex-lover’s eyes
But the Devil’s smile got wider
She strutted out of her hiding place
And stood next to the grieving angel
He took one look at her, and he knew she was the murderer
Two scarlet horns on the top of her head, and her matching red trident
Her fair skin was adorned in a wine-colored dress
His anger overpowering him, he grabbed the trident the woman held so dear
And impaled her in the back.
He dropped the trident on the cloud and walked away feeling accomplished
But as he was almost to the Gates, the trident reappeared in his hand
Terrified, he tentatively reached a hand to his head
Where it came across two pointed lumps.
He looked down at his previously white clothes; they had become blood-red
A new devil was born.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:14 AM UTC
in most of your fields an elder woman with a polaroid camera waits for a squirrel.
the kids have gone two or three years now without being raised.
a recent accident: the lame girl knocked into a box of baking soda which spilled and ghosted
a roach which disappeared into a white cane then reappeared on her hand.
less recent: the smaller boy lifted in the grocery a bag of dog food over his head while the bigger
pushed the cart into his back.
the short period of time the match goes unlit by your tooth is paradise.
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
A DINOSAUR EATING THE NIGHT
Death had frozen
his mind
and all his musings become icicles
stalactites and stalagmites of thought.
He snapped a thought off
an even number of stalactites and stalagmites .
Then he placed them one by
one in his jaws
like row upon row of
dinosaur teeth.
"Roar!' he roared
roaring himself out of this
"whatever it is!"
"Roar!" he roared again
eating the night
and all it brought
with his new stalactitestalagmite
dinosaur teeth.
When the night was all
eaten he
lay back and
fell asleep
inside the dream's
dream.
"Brother!" he said
and his dead brother
comforted him as if
he was not dead.
"Brother!" he cried
but the world had
reappeared
ready for the new day
that was spread before it.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 6:58 AM UTC
A red bird has flown soaring in the great height of the
purple sky. The thrilling scream was as a shrill cry on
the soundtrack. The bird has disappeared into the sky,
and all it could be heard was the sound. That cold sound
became fluid in the ears. A forked green lightning following
a zigzagging pattern appeared from an antimatter space.
The eyes fixed wide-open up, and the mouths kept silent.
A ship has left the dock to disappear in the mobile horizon.
It seemingly disappeared and reappeared based on where
the eyes were looking; the eyes were not able to leave the dock.
When the ship could not be seen, a prolonged blast could be
heard. Finally, the ship disappeared in an antimatter space,
where cold could illuminate and beat the heat to burn everything
as we beat the heat with icy cold neck wraps. The eyes fixed
wide-open toward, and red screams grew from open mouths.
The sun lost its strength to become redder than it was before.
In the twilight, its disk disappeared below the mobile horizon.
Its power was in the spirit and the matter of the freezing cold.
The eyes were unable to see where the sun was going. In the
soft and purple mist, they looked like little amethyst stones.
The violet light slowed down in the water much more than the
red light refracted. The waves of alternating strength in electric and
magnetic fields moved around the Earth in the tick of a clock.
The mouths murmured, but the anti-sound made them all be quiet.
From an airplane in the sky, the eyes could see two rainbows with
colors in opposite order forming a complete circle. The eyes could
move up and down to see the red light that refracted out of
the droplets at steeper angles than the blue light. The mind could
imagine another rainbow made of complementary light wavelengths
such as green, blue, violet, red, orange, yellow-orange and yellow.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
Living on borrowed time: that’s what I feel like I’ve been doing in the last few months. Have you ever felt you were just waiting on something?
Just hopelessly, meekly, patiently waiting… for something.
As I lay in bed that night with Ron Pope playing through the speakers, the thought hit me: I want to get married.
It’s typical- almost satirical, really. I love love. I love the idea of love. I’ve always been a fan of love even in sickness and in heartbreaks.
Love is stunning. Love is heartless. Love is selfish. Love is selfless. Love is kind. Love is brutal but love is fair.
Love smelled like whiskey.
Love was the act of him coming home to me every Friday night, intoxicated and heaving in the musky scent of Black Label and Jack Daniels. Love was the slurring of three 8-letter words, over and over. Love was waking up in the morning knowing where he was without needing to open his eyes.
I knew love. And love knew me. Love was always careful around me. Love knew what I needed when I was sad. Love knew what not to say when I was at my lowest. Love knew that food was the solution to almost everything. Love looked at me like I was a dying rose- fragile and beautiful.
Love was not there when I needed it the most but my goodness, love is beautiful.
At age of 17, love was not ready.
At the age of 21, love disappeared and love reappeared.
And now at the age of 25, love is still not ready.
But love is patient. Love is not going anywhere. Love is timeless. Love knows no expiration date. Love is never limited to one person and it will always be lurking in the shadows when you least expect it.
So, even when I lose faith in love, I tell myself to relax.
Because love? Love can wait.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 1:37 AM UTC
a glowing tribute
was penned for the infamous plagiarist
apparently the scriber did little research
into the copier's grist
this master replicator
has visited many a poetry site
to steal what others
did with heart and soul write
brazen is this fellow
in his misappropriating conduct
passing off material
which isn't his original product
again he has reappeared
at the Hello Poetry forum
showing his usual
disingenuous decorum
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 9:27 PM UTC
In the hustle and bustle of a metropolitan city, I searched you down. Stalked, hunted and fished you out. Out of the 7 billion people, I found you, and that was all which mattered. You. Your hair still soft and ruffled with care, you lips still pink without usage, or so I hoped, your eyes, sparkling as always behind your thin framed silver glasses. You, with your bold look, walking across the streets like you own them. You, with you heavy and slow steps walking to your destination with a purpose to conquer. You.
And in that unknown city, so far away from the root of our existence, with mindless honks of drivers and a play of lights everywhere, I found somebody that I used to know. A face not forgotten, yet changed, eyes which haunted reappeared and a voice which lingered rung in my ears. I found you.
I would purposely bump into you, pretending to be in a hurry, pretending to not recognize the only face embedded in my soul, drop my valuables, say something like my identification card, give you a quick smile and a sorry and run off and disappear into the wave of the crowd.
You would just stare at the card. Be reminded of a life so distant, possibly a life forgotten, probably forcefully. Be reminded of how a girl, crazy and wild, young in her years, had come and gone from your life. Be reminded of the question you always used to ask yourself "what happened?"
I would hide to see your face grow white. You had just seen a ghost. A ghost of your past, who you had forcefully left behind. Now, after decades of separation, years spent not even giving it a second thought, years spent away, you were reminded again. The fire was lit again. The fire which made you pick up the card, stare at the number and automatically dial it up. I would say "hello", at which you would cut the call still unsure of what you would say. Scanning, devising a plan, you would call again, only this time you would talk.
"Hello", I would say confused.
"I found your wallet miss, remember you bumped into me earlier?"
"oh yes thank god for you sir. Tell me where you are and I shall come and pick it up."
and with that you would let yourself go.
after all, a "hi" is all we need to melt, to fall, to die, all over again right?
and with that I woke up to the alarm screaming in my ears to remind me that reality still persisted, and that it would take more than a dream to get you back.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 2:39 AM UTC
Painted practice forgives the forward hand
Another man stands between the broken battalions
Caution slips underneath the tattered worn rug
And the apples and oranges rest naked and smug
The horizon stands poised neath a towering shrine
Wishing for salvation in an appetite of rhyme
And because there's no forgiveness for the weak or the rubbed
The one's left over have no need for the above
A cradle crosses the abstinent dream
Forgetting the difference between falseness and what's real
Pull apart your own fears, erupt sacred insecurities
Attack the dark with lighted candle and a roaring spark
Light across the window, cloud covers the moon
Reappeared faces make me strike another tune
Between the tide and the wave, sits a cap sized ship to heavy to move
The streets today are empty and how about you?
She moved like a serpent and spoke like a child
When the store owner's saw her, they all went wild
Two pair down wide and I've driven too many miles to cry
Why on this Earth is there rule you gotta' die -
Mountains peter past the fortunate blue
Of oceans to cross to peddle or bloom
Dead flowers rest on the graves of the dead
Birds lift their wings as they search for a bed
In a home where the mother grips every mention of moan
Parries a father to weak to address his crumbling tomb
See the spiraling trapeze spin and clap in tights
Even in dreams are we as forgetful as the vanishing night
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
The last time I saw you
was in 2011
You tousled my son's hair
cupped my daughter's chin
in front of the museum
You met me
in your black business suit
as the thick heat
of New York City
coated us
Your grandchildren stared at you,
smiled in shy half-moons
before my mom
took them home.
Then,
just you and I.
We sat for a cold moment
in the restaurant.
I longed for
something more personal
than a swank Upper West Side
joint, and ate nothing
Only water could
slide down
my throat,
and words stuck there
I was thirsty
for the you I had known
A big bear hug
dancing in the living room
to Olivia Newton-John
How you swung me around
and we laughed, my hair flying
I was thirsty
for our secret language
created one summer
for our silly jokes
in restaurants,
people-watching
on Second Avenue
the 80s punks in
East European diners
eating potato perogin
after their long night out
You disappeared on me
and then
after she, my sweetest star,
got sick
you reappeared
calling me every day
to check up on the flowers
in your garden
How you came back
to water it
in your own way
and now
I am only waiting to
cross the oceans,
fly straight into
your arms,
enfold your once-infinite
bear hug invincibility
into my fragile
heart
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC
I
I can't
I can't fathom
I can't fathom these words
What
What are
What are these words even worth?
Stuck in this Delma of working a lifetime
I hope that I can make room for my right mind
Let's hope negative energy doesn't consume my lifeline
I'm working retail, the details are irrelevant
Let's just say I cut ham and cheese
Just for the hell of it
I refuse to take benefits, these words are my pills, no my medicine
I'm my own doctor I make appointments when I write
I'm not saying my physical health is in distress, I'm all right
But **** this mental stress is like a sharp knife
It cuts through cartilage, likes bad words in arguments, I wish I could stay anonymous
Bad feelings synonymous to my current state mind, I wish I could take this weight then subtract an divide
Mathematics isn't a strong skill of mine
But if I don't quit, I know a fraction of me will die
I don't mind working the 9 to 5, I just feel a portion of that time can be dedicated to rhymes, letters caged in my mind, will be released if rising
Rise to the occasion, time is of the essence, that essence is a fragrance of confidence in the air
I use to be scared
I would just disappear into the darkness of fear, where positives never stirred only negative reappeared in the form of sedatives, intoxicated women & alcoholic beverages
Lustful nights, my sinful sight looked forward to friends with benefits
I would **** for the hell of it,
love & friendship two words I thought I would never get
But never again will I let my self-esteem drop, nor be a part of what seems hot, fakes friends a faction that seemed lost
Utterly so was I, claiming that I was a high, a hypocrite among hypocrites simply living lie
My synonyms where of sentences simply dressed in disguise, what Am I doing what is my purpose life?
I now live for the moments, passions and possibilities, forever an optimist
Living my life in positivity
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC