"recuperated" poems
Frost bitten
Cross wearing
Lost her path
The map burned to a crisp
Probably now just smoke in the obis.
What was it that mad her crack like this
She takes a rest
Childhood memories attack
Remembers the lashes and the cigarette burns.
Hear the yells and gets chills down her back.
She wakes up
Looks in the mirror
And sees her mother
The image of exactly what she never wanted to be.
She trys to run free.
Exaping her past she Flys away to a much safer place.
She recuperated
Not thinking about the past
She made a name
Had a job.
Played no games.
looking back there was only one thing she left when she ran.
The loving warm touch of her dream man.
Longing The tight embrace of his gentle hands.
She did all she could.
One day she wish he understood.
She loves him.
But running has always been her chosen path.
Lost love
Crossed paths
Hope one day they will make it last.
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 10:53 AM UTC
I.
The living creatures--
the living creatures rush forth &
return!
They are in heat again &
they pant in their hot damp
prisons;
the windows are covered,
the wisdom of the morning is
cool against the white flesh;
brush aside sun-colored hair,
feel to touch the smooth neck,
lean in to the pale lips;
become a master of the tongue,
for the sun sets slowly unceremoniously
on youthful dreams.
The vigor of the Dog Dance--
press your souls together, contort
in the rich silken comfort, get inside
& touch the velvet throne;
the diamond mine is restless &
moves forever: there are clouds
in that golden hair, marble columns
in the rose garden.
II.
We have rested & recuperated
in our soft asylum; we have
violated & vomited in rhythms
with the serpent's palpitations;
we carry our naked babies to
the pond, peer into the rippling
sacrifice, see the shell of a bold &
beautiful reflection:
it is the moon & she dances about
our brains & she dares
us to sing.
Peek backward into golden cold
infinity:
a thousand haunted worlds,
a thousand frightened dreams
circling in the trial of the mind;
the trial has lived forever,
it beckons you to return
to it's moist cotton womb:
you must dance, you must sing,
you must howl & screech
into diamond encrusted
darkness.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
Snuggle me don't let me go. Let me stay and make a home. Rest my head in your chest. Legs intertwined. Blinded from the world outside. I'll close my eyes and squeeze you tight in that moment I can rest in delight. Away from faces, voices, and pain. I'll hide myself securely in your bodies frame. And when I'm rested and recuperated from the weight of this place we can rome like children with everything to gain and fall in love with the stars that made us Aline and shine side by side in this promising life waiting to be defined...
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 1:04 PM UTC
Not through the dazzling sun
Nor the murky clouds
Only through your own heart
You can see
The darkest spots
On your face stamped
From the ravages of inquities
To get recuperated
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
I felt
The angel of death had drawn neigh
Me untimely to hug
With COVID-19 positive tag
When a nurse and a police
Ventured to a quarantine me to drag.
Regretfully, the leniency "No!
The pandemic me will not mark
To me, there and then, became stark."
After I underwent
A gruesome psychological and
Languishing physical moment
Estranged from my dear children
And loving wife
Health professionals, backed by
A responsible government
And doting society,
Nursed me back to life.
"Cling to life
As blooms yellow loosestrife.
Our health is fine
Soon the same will be true with thine!"
Was what I read from the eyes of
The recuperated,
Allowed to leave the quarantine.
To me such clicks brought to light
On the channel's end
The presence of rays bright.
So as the recuperated
My advice
Is "Pay not unnecessary price!
True to
'Prevention is better than cure!'
In Covid-19' era
Reckless endangerment
Must not you lure!"
Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 10:00 PM UTC