"recharges" poems
I walked through life with a rude and fresh arrogance:
I was taught it when I was still a big fish in a small pond,
When I still had a can-do-it-all attitude, when the dance
Was life, and the tune was want, and the performer, fond,
Moved like anything. Anyone. Save Lethe, who dulled me,
Who pulled me under waves when I cursed the sea,
When I thought, to time immemorial, I had the energy
To do anything, go anywhere, be anything I wanted to be -
I lived off borrowed time, and borrowed fire,
And borrowed, all of my once blazing desire
Fed no one, but lost dreams - I reap the harvest now:
I should have been a doctor, and I plough
My lack of care and decision, my blind turning, and the resulting salt,
I trudge through the compost of other unfinished deeds, never to halt -
I never knew the meaning of a battery, even when it ran down;
My phone recharges at night, and I simply squint and frown,
Trying to make sense of a world sensible to girl who used to dream;
Sleeping through waking, as though nothing would be as it would seem.
Sep 13, 2021
Sep 13, 2021 at 6:31 PM UTC
Let the rain wash away sober pains of drunk yesterday
Beating vivid like fire in the night
Let your soul illuminate to new heights
One last breath upon your chest
Running fast, moving without rest.
You left me here
Chained to rot, my dear.
But I am the sun, always moving on.
And when it is time to rest
And my shining light is in its nest
Only the darkness sees my true form.
My sunshine beams weep like willows,
As I wait till dawn with emptiness & pillows
Until the new day recharges my light
As the daylight awakens me ever so bright
I will be stronger.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 2:21 AM UTC
Pleasantly content
Full of love
Full of commitment
To go above and beyond
Make you feel the beauty of passion
Provide you with the warmth
From my love
That replenishes my being
Recharges me
When I’m done.
Jul 18, 2021
Jul 18, 2021 at 1:27 AM UTC
Searching
I always thought the iPhone
the most human of devices.
I named mine George.
Like an overeager child
George buzzes when engaged.
Spent, he recharges
to the sixty second cycle
of a resting heart.
Last night in a hotel bar,
an accidental altercation
with a roughhousing stein of Great Lakes Lager,
ruined the inner George.
Now, when shaken, George rattles.
No longer able to connect,
the heart-rending message “searching,”
parades across his shattered screen.
How human that yearning
for connectedness?
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 1:55 PM UTC
i.
in the wild, drumming rain
blossoms sink, confetti pinks,
riotous whites, collapse
in spring’s paper mache pools.
ii.
on a hot tin roof
the rain plays her wind
guitars and percussion
while the sea recharges
her engines with the
thunder of the waves.
iii.
the sound of the rain, chiming,
a crazy singer on the forlorn
lawn, stretching like an
accordion, wild in her
wilderness, crashing
like the waves
drawing me closer to you.
iv.
you kiss me and
my heart skips a beat,
flutters with excitement.
i long for summer with her
gold sun, warm, rushing
streams and bottle-blue sea...
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
I was there,
when each of you
were born,
that change,
from womb to
life with room to
grow,
beyond what nurtures,
leaving behind sutures,
and now, scars at what your mom, all moms
gave away,
so you are here today,
she bore scars then,
and she will again,
and again,
when you forget a birthday card, or to call,
or don't drop by on Mother's day at all,
but she, will be the first to defend
each one of you in their turn, until the end,
so remember, if you read this, it is nothing
more than a kiss as a reminder,
come and find her, stand behind her,
not to take advantage,
of being first or last or in between,
and whisper in her ear, that you love
her, as much as there is air in the atmosphere,
and you know she has cried an ocean of tears,
inside for each time, each of you, or others have broken her heart,
but it does not mean she is angry,
but it does not mean she is frankly cranky (that's me)
what it means is she is human
who has made enough room in her
heart for all of you forever, whether or not
you bring flowers or hold her hand for a walk, when she gets older,(light years from now)
just call her and listen more than you talk,
give her the time to be creative, ART recharges her battery pack.
For she is special, like ripples in the pond,
her love can be felt like the waves that goes on and on,
and I observe all this, and I am in awe,
becasue I too have a mother,
who is unlike any other, except her capacity to show her love for me,
for all the time, years and miles, distance between her and me.
And she still smiles when me she sees.
©DWE112013
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 11:56 PM UTC
I get sick of my rusty parts
So I start
Yanking me apart.
Strategically I scatter my static limbs about the concrete
My minds own crime scene
I short circuit and nobody can solve me
So I think
But effortlessly
He picks up the parts of me
He screws them back together
Patiently
As if this hasn't already happened
Every day this week
The hope that lies in him
Recharges me- My battery
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 5:01 AM UTC
Under heavy fire from enemy forces
I hide behind a concrete barrier.
Blind fire spray
take out a man and a woman.
tumble behind a wall, pop up
Shoot a third.
run down a corridor. Spot a fellow soldier
"group up!"
as we Charlie's angels back to back. He immediately drops to the ground.
"Evan!" no time to mourn. I'm in cross hairs
run down a tunnel watching my back.
Turn around to spot the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.
Wearing the wrong color.
Tread quietly up behind her.
before she can even see me,
hold hip, hand tangled in hair,
kiss her against a barrier.
while she's stunned.
We lock eyes and exchange smirks.
I Shoot her.
"You fight ***** she screams, as her vest beeps and recharges
Coming to life just in time to get revenge before I'm completely out of site.
when the game was over we
told war stories.
"We need to do that again sometime!"
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 8:05 AM UTC
I stare at the never ending depth of darkness' abyss
As I dive down deeper and deeper into the mystic blue,
Obstacles such as sharks, corals, electric eels get in my way
I hit rock bottom! The bottom of pits, nowhere else to go.
Deep blue darkness gangs up on me, almost seems like a hoax
Until I see the glimpse of light near the end of the Photic zone
I realize, from here on I have nowhere to go but up!
Scurrying up the ocean layers, I am one with the zone
Leaving my lonesome, burried down with the limestones
A gulp of oxygen recharges me to my soul
I am ready to be saved, reset to the contractions of the womb
A new life is born, in the midst of it's twenties
Broad shoulders, clean shave, perfect musk, I'm ready,
Here I come, Lookout ladies!!!
Horizons never end, the world keeps rolling, and life as we say keeps us going, and going!
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 3:56 PM UTC
your critique mimics
the chills down my spinal chord.
I've had an ache for weeks now-
seems there's not enough stretching myself thin
to rid of the pain in my neck now.
your lips form lashes around my tongue
and it seems I have acid sores
encompassing my lips
because everything you say to me is so toxic.
Your mouth is a battery,
you won't stop running it-
seems it recharges itself.
Seems I cannot throw it away-
it would harm too many others.
Standing in front of you I feel weak,
a version of myself I do not recognize.
Seems I was never strong enough to stand up to you-
so I backed down.
Time and time again
hiding how I feel for your benefit.
It's a shame whenever someone comes around
I wince, afraid you will use your acid tongue
to weather them down
and form rust stains out of their smile.
Most days, I clench my fists
ready to be a shield in their wake.
Most days, that's a mistake.
The high horse
you build your house upon
has grown higher-
you built it that way.
You look down at everything
and bask in the glory of your accomplishments.
The materialistic glow of your youth
shines down upon my face-
but you are not looking at me in awe.
You do not consider me something worthy
of your appreciation.
It seems you think you owe it to yourself
to be nothing less than egotistical,
you grew yourself this way.
Built it from the ground up
so treat it as you wish.
Your way is the only value.
My words are meek inside your muddy waters-
your mindset is clouded again.
I am the rain upon your parade.
Addiction runs in your blood
without something
you fall apart.
All I ever wanted
was for you to be better-
you can never give me that.
You give me a complex instead.
Read this back again,
come back to it and realize
that us women always marry our fathers.
and I can't decide which this poem is about-
I think it's my Father,
but it could also be
every man I have ever loved.
I'm still trying to find love
in between the lines I write
but I only find the past-
the one where love didn't exist
seems it's not enough anyway.
I can't find love
when you show it to my blindside
you don't even care to move in the right direction.
Let me get over-
you.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 2:10 PM UTC
The battery mostly empty sends less power through
the act. The art of you. The heart of you.
I've heard the drums since I was a child.
Music sent from my futures unseen,
to touch me young with destiny.
Lowest now I've ever been in the pit,
the place to which ashes descend,
I know the movie must play to the end,
but I'll send back honesty and a meager providence
sealed with well wishes and love hidden in the frames.
Best believe in watching me I know your names.
Cyber ink is always bleeding through the screen,
writing me a list of beautiful, infinite minds.
Reading it back aloud recharges my mystic energies.
I take a deep breath before my return to form
then open my lungs for the dive.
If I drown in you, let it come.
I'll stretch it out though,
as I want to cherish the heights of
beauty lacking in me that I see for the future in you.
When the moment comes I'll show the tribunal
the heart of rebellion as I learned it through
the audience in their seats.
The spider shall rest for the weaving
as the suspicious oracle returns.
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 4:51 PM UTC
a bed is just a bed
until it's not anymore
it's refugee from trouble,
it's home away from home
it's where your tears well
undisturbed in the dark
it's where two people ******
and another two made love,
it's where he turned with pits
for eyes and said, "maybe you should go"
it's where he ran when hope evacuated
his body and his soul
it's where your dreams knit together,
where you ghosts reappear,
where your body recharges
and where your fear stalks near
a bed is permanent, a fixture
in your life
yet this bed is not, could not,
ever be mine
dressed in disguise, wearing
a pad and a topper,
this mattress has felt the bodies
of similarly empty hundreds,
reminding me that this bed is an illusion
much like this life i live,,
the sheets constantly coming untucked
as they reject my existence
still, it accepts me during the night,
offering no tangible resistence
though beds are inanimate objects,
there souls find ways to roam
and in this bed, i am acutely aware
that i no longer have a permanent home
Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 10:32 PM UTC
Was raised by women
Mother
Grandmother
3 Sisters
Like being raised
By wolves
Protective
Safe
I’ve come to find
Going & Growing
Through life
That just being near a
Woman
Recharges the soul
&
Regives life
Respect
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC