"recessing" poems
warm, orange, safe
beauty
oozing slowly inward
over reality
past time
recessing stress
overwhelming comfort
pow wow
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC
I do not know how long this summertime will last
or for how long these roses will bloom.
I do not know for how long we
can put off the winter of our lives.
I do not know the answers to any of these questions.
All I know is that with you by my side
I will weather through these withering winds
and travel down the path of demise.
How long can we battle the darkness of winter?
With my soul strengthened by yours,
forever my Darling. I will fight
and fight the recessing sun
and still kiss every wrinkle
and curve of this wilting rose.
As our blood turns to ice,
I will fight and toil.
I will face winter and its wrath
to keep you here with me.
As summertime morphs into winter
I will fight so our souls will combine and
transcend this material world,
so that when winter comes
I face it with you.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC
Turns out the joke's on me yet again...
Monsters don't really disappear when the light comes on.
And they don't hide when you shine the light on them either.
No. Instead they rise up. They grow to fill the space that was created by spotlighting them and become ready-
To be the star of a show that you helped to curate.
I thought for certainty that talking to you about my depression would somehow alleviate it in some way...
but it didn't...
I actually feel more like I'm recessing further since we spoke about this
Like I just let the demons out to run a muck instead of putting them down to rest.
So instead of hurting me when I'm alone, it happens any time now.
When ever it likes
It feeds
and I feel it eating me...
and I want it to
-
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 9:29 PM UTC
Fine things lining pockets
And flawed gems from a faucet
It took a month to mar the clauses
long forgotten fiends and flowing
Nature lost scenery
It might be menial, but if I don't like the imagery
I'd use a run on and run on, running on
Fumes like carbon clouds, bowing at the center
Of the hopelessness I've found
Of moths and flame, danger and wanting
Nature and harboring diseases and watching
Crystalline precipices overblown from cold
Rain, eroding stone long since lain
Homes blown through in half a day
Another half century laid waste
Forage a new course for the streams
The selfish, like me only disagree
Despite the discontent
Restless nights and fires burning low
Into the biting air, a show of flair
Its not right, or fair to vent
Hollow, it would seem
Still stable, the ecosystem of
Constant change
Trying to be heard over a flood of filth
Tidal waves painting fields
Recessing long since venerated guest
Retaking ocean lost to sandy beaches
And kids with half a dream left in them
I spent my last penny on a whim
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 7:43 PM UTC
How did I know where this would go?
I never knew where time would take me in its flow.
So long has this heart by empty and devoid of a core,
a lack of love has left this boy with a sore...soul
And as I meandered from day to day not sure how to escape this prison in which I stayed. I thought to myself, What the **** man can’t you just say something to someone.
They said if you build it they will come.
And if I could add up all the sums...of these bitter disappointments that have had there run. I would come to the conclusion that there is no resolution, no simple answer to this lack of love convolution.
Oh snap when an opportunity raps, I’m too hungry and too hard for this...but theres a chance I might not swing and miss. Finally the time for a first kiss.
And this is the girl for me, she lets my soul fly so free.
And like a simple instrument I get played.
A different string gets yanked every god **** day,
What the **** don’t I get a say?
Whats the confusion about don’t you like me?
Why do you have to think so much lets just be.
And then the wait, **** I just want to date.
I ask for advice, everyone has their own insight.
and in a way I think they were all right.
Valid reasons for this lack of reason,
I don’t think love was ever in the air this season.
And this is the girl for me, she lets my soul fly so free.
They say time heals all wounds,
I think it also grants a boon.
We can look back at the choices me make,
And what part of ourselves we did forsake
In this quest to realize a dream that was guaranteed to rip apart at the seam. Something we grasped at trying to make work by any means
...but no, its done and so we move on along trying to find our own song, Thoughts recessing as we move back into our own personal session, Life alone, it hurts to the bone, shuffling along like another drone on the telephone, filled with quiet moments in the zone, not a sound but the moan:
And this is the girl for me, she lets my soul fly so free.
Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 12:08 AM UTC
I'm in class.
Every paper flip
Every cough
Sends me further
Recessing into my mind
I hike the Alps
I visit Mars
Time is called.
My mind is lost in space.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 9:01 AM UTC
A trembling pale girl enters a stone
fortress of faith, buttresses flying outside,
in hopes of finding a way to atone,
find an anchor in the world’s shifting tides.
This Gothic cathedral lifts her wet eyes
to its heavenward ribbed vaulted peaks.
They’re painted deep blue like starry skies
in remembrance of what Creator to old Abraham speaks.
There, where each vault’s stone arches crisscross,
shines out like a clear harvest moon
the radiant burst of a gilded boss
that gleams in the recessing gloom.
Adrift in this vast and sacred space,
thin curls of burnt incense waft by
to fill the young girl with scented grace
whilst she sits in this place with wide eyes.
The gold on the stone catches candlelight
and reflects its flickering blaze
as the quiet chanting of canticles might
let her senses be softly amazed.
While the twinkling of these numerous stars
fills her rediscovered heavens within,
the tides of her fears recede past sandbars,
leaving puddles of patience therein.
The promise made by the Father long ago —
Abraham’s children would a galaxy be —
finds fulfillment in this starry girl now aglow
since from her darkness she’s tenderly freed.
She found her anchor and cast it up to the skies.
It caught a bright star and held fast.
New dawn lit inside her in quiet reply,
telling her no tides of tempest can last.
Oct 27, 2024
Oct 27, 2024 at 12:03 PM UTC