"relenting" poems
The Red Ants At His Picnic
Her pillow eyes gleamed
at his advances,
inching along slowly.
His anteater likeness,
rising,
coming to an anthem,
frolicking on her picnic,
on her mound,
hoarse and hungrily.
Rendevous antics to form.
Wave after wave,
the red ants at his picnic,
dancing,
dancing like there's no tomorrow,
seducing him in further.
He,
so antsy,
anticipating.
In his genre,
happily along,
on her trail,
like a hunter,
taking her welcoming little red colony,
to kingdom
come.
To ******* come,
where her castle and moats succumb,
relenting,
saluting to his anthem.
Where soon white clouds a bursting,
blue skies emerging.
The sublimity and antidote holding on,
holding on to her picnic.
And the rocket's did red glare,
the bombs bursting in air-
together,
to gather.
And there they were ... chaos, abuzz,
lyrical
then calm.
Sustenance drawn on their faces.
A slight breeze runs through the grass
the red ants at bay.
Logan Robertson
4/17/2018
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 6:15 PM UTC
Your body
Is a creation of the galaxies
A coming together of milky ways and solar flares
When I first saw you, I was stunned
At the sheer amount of stardust it would take
To make something that beautiful
Your body
Is a glass case
Struggling to hold rivers in your veins
Herds of wild horses in your chest
The monarch migration in your stomach
Slowly you are cracking
The glass relenting to the spirit it cannot hold
But when it breaks you will not hurt
You will be free
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC
It’s the kind of subtle trickle
That turns the asphalt into a glassy mirror
Ripples, ripples, ripples
Over it like a black pond
The silver lining of each little droplet
Streaking the sky with shades of gray
The streetlights cast an amber glow
Upon the shimmering mist
Hiss, hiss, hiss
Against your stinging flesh
Turn your face up towards the darkened sky
Let the rainfall and streetlights wash away the dust
The dust of the souls you carry on your lips and cheeks
Etched into your back and palms
Their burdens may cause you aches and pains
Let the rainfall and streetlights wash them away
Rainfall and streetlights
Rainfall and streetlights
An urban confessional
Where the sky leans in to listen
As every perfect drop of water hits your skin
It’s the sound of a cleansing
Only you can comprehend
And although the hope of purity may have been swept away
by the wind of unfixable mistakes
It’s still the belief alone in possible redemption
That keeps you from relenting to temptation
Drink up the tears of the sky, child
You are forgiven
You were always forgiven
After all
Paths were made to be strayed from
Straight lines are mundane, they all look the same
And never give a little boy glass when you haven’t taught him
how to grasp what’s right in front of him
When he drops it
It’s a dangerous job
Picking up the sharp shattered pieces
Do not make him do it all alone
Yes, inevitably you will cut yourself
On the broken shards
Crimson teardrops
If they tumble from you
Do not distrust your calluses
You made them through your own hard work and suffering
But they can only do so much for you
Remember your skin is a shell not impenetrable armor
So it’s best to avoid the things you know will cut unnecessarily deep
Bleeding is just another way your body assures you that your heart is still beating
Looking up from the gutter the universe awaits you child
Do you not realize what’s at your fingertips?
Infinity
So don’t give in just yet
Let the rainfall and streetlights heal you
Drip drop, drip drop
Let them bathe you in warmth
Radiating
Let the rainfall and streetlights take you away
To a better place
Wherever that may be
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC
Her poems are like
sound waves
they can't help the shape they make
arcing, cresting, jagging scores into the sky then
crashing
into smaller crescendos and puddles
refusing to stay still
adamantly holding their shape then
suddenly relenting
into smaller
smaller
lines
Then it HITS, her thoughts
They rip through the message finally clear
not even sure how my brain processes
these tiny wave forms not really sure
how these shapes make me feel
not sure how the words
can drift into my head
and make me feel
something
anythi
ng
.
.
.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 10:35 AM UTC
I
I greeted you, my inevitable day
In this shaky firmness of my hands;
Assuring me of my weakness; the languidity of my serene constitution.
The sky smeared with fright,undeed, and look, hark to how the sun closed the night!
This was but unpalatable dew, misty in its impatient greyness
Avidity for genuine sorrow and late confessions
The calm heart then wronged, and soon the war touched the light!
II
Beware of love, o silly hearts!
Loving thoughts, are indeed averse to relenting;
albeit they are always leading to smirks and destitution.
Release thy grains from yon grievous chain!
Spark thy wings, heave and bend!
Wear thy glee, ere any of the gruesome tears remain!
Shield thy mask with greater abhorrence!
III
O notions, fruit my doom and feed my sight!
From womanly misery I yet ought to emerge
and all its surly sleeves I ought to blight!
IV
O peace, fetch for me my untaught breath in vain
Keep me steady, ditch me not in the rain!
Tend me more, yet not my cheerful friend-
in pleasures whom thrives, in virtues was whom foolish!
Praising plaited hairs, swept amidst folded skirts.
Gruesome lies they carry, the finest they conspire to marry;
what a horrid, unalterable, evil concoction!
Yet pureness is the only that deserves awe;
virgins are a symbol of unrequited love, but tenderest affection!
However lonesome, hither and thither I shall bear this pain
Until my stern heart melted to love again.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:38 AM UTC
Damaged trust and marriage schemes
Held hostage in each others' dreams
Pinned to walls but flailing still
Forgotten values, failing wills
True love waits, we tell ourselves
True love gladly stacks the shelves
True love sets conditions and
True love does the dishes and
Slowly, slowly, we forget
Just why we're here and who we met
Another notch in wrinkled frowns
Where I keep getting lost and found
In roller-coaster ups and downs
I'm lost and lost and lost and found
Missing flights and toxic tongues
Catharsis found in tar-filled lungs
I lost myself in who I wasn't
And in what true love does and doesn't
Not quite gaslit, not quite safe
Playing back the ancient tape
We envy death for constancy-
Besmirching our own consciences
We forgo our emoluments
Too traumatized by precedents
But hush you tell me, no one knows
The pretzel-bending ways we grow
Forever twisting round and round
Lost and lost and lost and found
Now freaking out, now breaking down
Now glaciers found in evening gowns
Now agonizing 'Who am I?'s
Now dying fire in your eyes
At last the sunset settles debts
We tally up our last regrets
Relenting to incessant ghosts
Abandoning essential posts
'Til all that's left is loss and hurt
It burns and burns and burns and burns
And now I choke on orders filled
And mourn alone the youth we killed
I scrape the comb across my nettles
Pricking feelings, bleeding mettle
Finally free from ups and downs,
I find myself on solid ground
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
My eyes alight softly upon pale velvet waxing
Whose grace is as weightless as a tilting feather
Slowly orbiting between gentle arches
Caressing the space that separates two hearts
And minds locked in a tidal waltz
Waning, my gaze shifts to supple curves
Outlining the crescent shaped body
Which loving light reflects in full
As the beats of my pulse rapidly impact
Scaring the surface with my every rotation
That births a new phase with every rise
Yet sets my sights again upon distant beauty
Teasing the mind to reach out and embrace my muse
Relenting to the gravity ever drawing me nearer
Until we collide in throes of violent passion
Two bodies merging in the fires of love
To become one forever more
Aug 16, 2021
Aug 16, 2021 at 11:59 AM UTC
Panic's jewel...
Or, is that pride?
Poor relenting, to you...
The question of irony on your side?
Places and things, together
With a real appetite for life's regency
So, sophisticated, the liberty of kind to bother
An open air, of a wish that found deception's history...?
My undone mercy, my marveling hope
Is with a ghost of a chance, the truth
In a guarded fist, to promise a shared cope?
If any pout of lore, is a wish that sought your youth...
I will follow...
Despairing consciences, with a blinking stare at honor
That defies home for one thing only, that is to harrow...
The dread in a tear, found for a salt that told a story:
Once upon a time, and the tenderness of couth
To wake upon a simple bed, the taste of harmony in league
With itself, the role of unity and vice, come the riches of who
Is a part defined, and who is a smarter focus divine, of each?
Which will the tows of remorse...
Work as we said, they have the skill's of duress to laud
And heraldry of a looming proportion, to understand the worse
The life of another lords prophet, the can and the callous odd...
Here is such, the lies or levity we fate
With a rekindled fire, for what is a stranger look, of desperation
Sincerity or since charity is a fool for itself, the world of sate
Is a kindness only a lover could afford, the very gift of intimation?
Tomorrow?
And the ides of heathen politeness, are here
To simply move forward and borrow
The truth in an order and repute, that has oneself to bless, with another's fear...?
Jun 25, 2022
Jun 25, 2022 at 1:25 AM UTC
I love her.
Basic in it's being.
As such is the keeping of it.
A thesis to the "ins" and "outs."
The "ups" and "downs."
The "all abouts."
An equation of this and that.
In direct proportion to the simplicity of directional momentum...
So do we conclude,
equal complexity
to that which was not spoken.
To that which was kept.
Only relenting to a factor of time.
From which
the variable of existence
can evolve itself.
In and of itself.
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 6:55 PM UTC
How to describe that moment when we wake at last?
Tentatively emerging from the comfortable cocoon of that early, endless summer
****** into a cold, vibrant land, full of beauty and pain
Equipped with a newfound vigor but fueled by our disillusionment
Here, in the infancy of our societal influence
Fresh off a restful bout of childhood ignorance
We take aim to preserve that magic, for as long as we can
We dance in the summer rain, so it might not fade away…
But when do we lose focus?
When do we become,
The target of long lost laughter,
relenting to the forces of absurdity?
Perhaps when our world comes crashing down
With the weight of a thousand suns
When purity falls prey to the stalking darkness
That lives in the darkened mire
We’re all lost souls in this garden world
As our sanity stumbles with each passing season
From a fleeting glimpse at beauty in the warmth of the spring
to our frozen heart from winter’s endless pain
What is it we really want then?
As we wake up dreaming of a peaceful life,
of blue skies, and free-flowing thoughts
in the warm embrace of a sun-kissed day
But out of darkness, fear does grow
Those memories seem so far away.
Saddled with willing acts of complacency
We trudge on, immune to our nagging decency
For as we stand on the edge of the abyss
Faced by the power of the absurd
We can’t help but look down
Into the unrelenting grimace of finality
Can we recapture, moments lost, memories fallen
from the hardened heart of our war-torn soul?
For deep inside, perhaps we’ll find
A glimpse at a forgotten past
Might we gather one last breath,
A passing whiff of that summer day
So long ago, when we dreamt of a greater purpose and when magic
Enveloped our reality with the warm embrace of mystery and intrigue
Might we realize then that pain makes beauty?
And as we stand on the edge of the abyss
Trading a summer daydream
For a midnight reverie
We take a step back…
Nov 18, 2022
Nov 18, 2022 at 12:37 PM UTC
there is something beautiful about you
when you cry.
i don't know if it's the sadness
that leaks from your skin
or how your brain pain is near tangible.
nor do i know
why that should be beautiful
but perhaps it is just the softness
the relenting,
the giving up,
the most ****** up form of peace.
and the repeat realization
of all the reasons
you should feel guilty.
it shows on your face.
as your cheeks redden and then drain slowly of color.
through your muscles
as they tense, almost relax, and then shake.
your eyes, they are red.
they are red and small and drooping.
you see yourself in the mirror
and you fight an urge to smash it again.
you're ashamed, but you see it too:
you are so ******* pretty when you cry.
that robe of misery suits you so well.
maybe you were born for pain.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
listen to me
im screaming your name
yet you look through me..
im circling you with hate filled eyes.
yelling,scratching, fighting to be seen,
and yet im ignored.
now im begging, pleading on my knees
to be aknowledged
yet im shunned.
my tears fall in noiseless streaks
shattering like glass at your feet
and yet.. You walk right by me..
we dance this fiery tango day and night
neither relenting in his struggle.
u to ignore..
me to be noticed..
why is it so hard to look at me
when,without me, you do not exist?
you NEED me, so i stay.
yet you act like im not welcome.
stop.
look at me
at yourself
learn to love what you see
its time you realized who you are..
let me show you the truth
in your reflection.
.
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
What's this aching in my bones
this pounding in my brain
this voice whispering in my ear
this awful burden I bare with so much strain
What's this torture in my soul
this burning in my veins
this relenting loneliness and pain
this confusion in my head
What's this trembling in my body
this vulnerability on my lips
this desperation I can't come to grips
these shaking hands and weak *** knees
What's this feeling inside of me
this hole I can't fill
this darkness I cannot peel
my mind is racing and my heart is too
this feels like depression that I am slipping into
What's this bitterness I feel towards men
how do I overcome this deli-ma I am in
how do i open up and let my feelings show
how am I suppose to love again with this heart that is not whole
What's this anger dwelling deep in me
how do I rid myself of this disease
what will it take to put the past behind
what must I do to just let you go this time
What's this sinking feeling deep in my gut
this burning sensation like being freshly cut
why must I continually gasp to breathe
because of this tsunami wave crashing down upon me?!
Copyright © 2013 by Ashley Rodden
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 2:36 PM UTC
through shattered glass a broken mind
in one lone voice terse and cleansed
speaks unspoken thoughts of rusty will
nestled in spirit's brawny grasp
winged notions lay in wait
on woodless edges of fate's forest
relenting for relent's sake
heart-shaped clouds bleed sorrowed sheets
blanketing a clown of shame
huddled atop nervy stilts
embedded in the muck of mourn
furious fields forge fires of rage
a sweltering stench stands tall
in lockstep a ghosts parade
foggy silhouettes stop and gaze
watching, waiting, wanting
to rob future's grave of treasures past
scratched and bruised and battered lands
tattered bands of dreamscape caravans
timeless sands, spineless hands, heartless clans
among these, fate is planned
a distant city stands to fall
infidels shall cringe and crawl
brotherhood of hate begun
redemption of man undone
©Jason Cole
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 4:52 PM UTC
It's another night alone in my bed.
Thoughts of you trapped in my head.
And despite knowing the truth, evident with blinding proof,
My pride won't let me not be the fool.
And I know that you're better off with another,
And I know my presence can hauntingly hover,
But this is all I know, as my act will surely show,
Just how I revel in the acting a fool.
If this is the role I'm cast to be,
I'll wear my crown with unbridled glee.
Never relenting, always presenting,
Playing your games like a fool.
Your name would echo in the hallway
My friends experts in the game you play.
But I refused to listen, as your smile would glisten,
A boy predestined to be the fool.
Fast forward the clock and look at us now,
Your rise to the top left them all asking how,
But here I remain, fighting for a level plain.
Permanently cast as your silly little fool.
And as we grow old and grey,
I'll finally have the proper words to say,
I'll tell you it all, my reckoning will call,
My dying breath as the fool.
I continue to hold to this slimmer of hope,
For it's the only way that I can truly cope,
With how you really don't care, a hollow heart with pretty hair.
But in the end I'm always the fool.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
I feel so tired, I want to sleep,
Have felt this way so many years.
I try so hard, but not for me,
Let me permanently dry my tears.
I’ve let down all those around,
Guilt so deep, my pain to bear.
Breaking what I searched and found,
Unable to see and keep what’s there.
Is this my punishment bestowed on me?
A life of misery sentenced to be.
Happiness not deserving to me,
For failing my responsibility.
I try to accept;
My fate, matches the pain I’ve caused.
I seek forgiveness, that I don’t deserve,
Hence rejecting, relenting doors.
Feel like loneliness I must accept,
Punish myself continuously,
Until there’s nothing left.
When I eventually have paid my keep,
My forgiveness accepted?
Then
I lay my head to sleep.
Steve Collins
12th September 2008
Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010 at 10:51 AM UTC
These Circles, that they be Linked or Exchanged
Harness the Janitor in me maintain
Though Depressed be my Blinding Mind deranged
Help to Embalm this Un-Relenting Pain
These Sages through Time by their Words endow
And cause Wisdom one's Joy through Skin avoid
To force my Soul its Inborn Blessings enrouse -
Shake your Sugars from this fail-tripped Colloid
That's Milk to you. If your Matters be Sweet
Then carry your Mornings free from my Sense
As such would I, rake the Roots off your feet
And pledge my Sharp Evenings to recompense.
Funny how Loss, its Cross mint Cool Relief
Upon the Monk's Throne absolved your Belief.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC
I was going to leave today but Love came
and lightly tapped my door.
As soon as I opened, oblivious to its intent,
it poured and whisked your name in to my place.
It sat contented at the end of my sofa while
I tried to reason with my hot cocoa tightly
clenched within my hands.
It asked for some and I gave my cup away
relenting to the oncoming shadow of the ending
of this day.
I was going to leave today and tightly shut the door
but,
what's the worst that could happen? Pondered Love.
Nothing to lose and nothing to fear-
Hoping for a yes with the possibility of getting “No.”
Live out in regret or knowing crystal clear.
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
*Like blood from an open wound,
the words flow of their own accord.
Pain there is, but no wish to get rid off.
An unbridled power has taken over,
Can't stop, don't wish to stop.
Have got to write, to tell this story mine.
It's a journey long, meandering through phases varied.
Going through forests deep, stopping at falls sweet.
Looking for answers, to questions abstruse.
Being termed obtuse, for not relenting in the worst of time.
Have been told that I would lose, but the choice is mine.
So I surge ahead, with only a dream to lead the way.
A dream to find worlds new.
To know the answer to questions abstruse.*
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 5:46 AM UTC
Being wrapped in blankets is a seemingly wonderful thing. You get all wrapped up, things are feeling grand, but one wrong movement and BAM: a swab of fabric unexpectedly covers your face. You squirm and try anything to get it off; to unwrap yourself, but, alas, you cannot--you're stuck.
Breathing becomes more and more difficult until you are completely suffocating. Suddenly, everyone walks away, aloof to what is happening; but wait--here's the catch: there are no blankets and there are people all around.
"What's wrong with you?" They ask.
They wonder why doing anything is so hard; why nothing is enjoyable--why you may be numb to everything. They can't see the blankets, or that the struggle to escape overpowers all joy; that it may be so tight that you've become numb.
They don't understand why you want to give up.
"Get over it." They say, as they walk around, free as a bird, no blankets to hold them down.
You want to take their advice; to set yourself free. You begin to slash at the blankets, only to realize you're only slashing at yourself--but it helps for a bit. Maybe you feel less pain; maybe you finally feel something. For a few moments, you can breathe and put on pretend wings.
Fake wings don't last forever, though. Soon they fall, are stolen, break, get lost--whatever it may be--and they're gone.
You slip back into the blankets.
The birds with real wings start to notice; they want to know why you're doing this to them again.
"You were doing so well!" They insist.
You do what you know, and your scars become too numerous to count.
Again and again you escape and find a pair of wings, but it never seems to be enough.
You are never enough.
Suddenly, you've got it. If you're small enough--strong enough--the blankets can't contain you.
So food becomes your enemy.
Soon enough, your blanket becomes as empty as you are. You think you are strong as you easily slide out, finding refuge in a pair of beautiful wings.
The birds all stare.
"How thin she's gotten," they comment.
Some are concerned, others jealous.
"She's not healthy," they say.
They take your wings away, insisting you need help.
The blankets are always there, waiting. This time, they've gotten smaller and they swallow you up. As you begin to be forced to swallow as well, the blankets refuse to grow with you.
Breathing is harder than ever.
You realize there's no way to stop this cycle. The blankets will always be waiting, never relenting. The birds will never understand, always blind to the fabric encompassing your face.
There is only one way out that will last forever, never a blanket in sight.
Slash deep enough and the blankets will disappear--and so will the birds.
"I can be free," you think.
Freedom at last.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 4:47 PM UTC
*I walk through the jungle dense
with majestic trees forming a tattered roof over my head
Misty sunshine peeping through
filling the air with an aroma of fresh greenness
My thoughts are focused on following the path
laid by those who've travelled this way before
I can hear distant sounds of chattering birds
I know I won't go hungry
I carry on, determination marking each step,
I must find what I had lost
The momentum pushes me forward and farther and deeper
I can hear the sound
I track closer and closer
It's going uphill, it's a struggle
It's near, I’m reaching
The path opens up to a clearing
There, in front of me, is the river
Flowing east
I reach the bank and there I see
A rainbow hovering over the waterfalls,
Welcoming me as with tears of a long lost friend
I stand there for a moment to take it all in
I remove my heavy clothing and slide in
It's cool and shocking at first
Then I submerge and ball up and just float in the river
It sounds like a choir of trees, water and music
I hear music
I lift my head out to breathe
The sky is blue with clouds floating by
The sunshine blankets me from above and
The cold river cushions under
Relenting, I smile
Realizing I've found heaven
Mesmerized....*
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 5:29 AM UTC
Color rides the universe-
The final present in a hole should fade-
Stories of fresh love-
Words of wisdom kings to be made-
Fresh shame haunts-so-slow those devils inside-
Relenting exhaustion-putting all hurt-aside-
Relinquishing in love-
Passion drive drugs-
Hugs are forgotten-but not these cold shrugs-
Pride to the wilderness-Standing at St. Peters gate-
Amongst the villains to be judged-
Grandeur-we wait-
He stands before his maker-
Dancing clouds in the sky-
Love making love to you-
Is the dream of goodnight-
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 7:12 PM UTC
Excuse my drifting-
I didn't mean to kiss you like that,
I was just trying to swallow the space between us somehow
because I think tonight the moon was stillborn.
All the tides seem broken.
The space is dragging with plaintive collectibles=
complacency in yellow-teeth cliffsides, and all the empty shells
in which we'd listened for the corners of our ocean
and heard it ebbing, relenting, reaching.
It rippled on our skins and made us twinkle then.
Now I'm missing you, the grating bottle-glass shards
are what my headaches are made of
and are what fill up my shoes.
When our spines unravelled, I heard rain-
letter-writing weather, bathtub weather,
knitwear-perhaps-on-the-beach weather-
but the puddles were coming from the sun.
I don't know quite when summer blew in.
We would have found canvas chairs in the park.
You would be taking pictures of yellow daffodils
in black and white with your big heavy camera,
and laughing at each sneeze because I'm allergic.
There's really no need now to listen in shells
for the clutter leftover in elegy-
platitudinous phrases, photographs, plenty more fish in the sea.
Words couldn't ever weigh the depths of it.
Only abrade and erode it.
Yours is a world that, for immeasurable gaps
and for whirlpools and whale sounds,
I am not a part of anymore.
But please excuse my drifting.
I will always love the echoes
and walk along the beach in search of shells.
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 11:25 AM UTC
Contemplating
Heart beat racing
I pace to and fro
My blood boiling
Fingers coiling
Time I have to go
Nostrils flaring
Eyeballs glaring
Seeing your demise
Temper rising
No compromising
You will have to die
bloodshot eyes
From the lies
You expressed to me
bulging veins
black tear stains
Soon I'll set you free
Hell accepting
Soul collecting
Yours paid in advance
No repenting
So relenting
With the Devil dance
Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 2:50 PM UTC