"relived" poems
Everyone’s greatest fear is rejection.
We knew its existence,
but no one understand it clear.
The feel of rejection,
Is like cutting the deepest of our soul
by a razor that causes an affliction.
Carved our hearts to the extent.
Leaving with painful scar,
and making it permanent.
Stark naked vulnerability, all aglow
We can find no escape
But to let the tear in our eyes flows
But a human like us,
Is a material thing, easily torn
and not easily mended.
When aggrieved, craving to be relieved.
For you, neither have I lived nor relived.
In rejection, I fear
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
crooked steps
just a seconds glimpse behind
perfect trail before me, each step a gift
Then in the distance I caught sight
of something
I saw you kiss the lips of the sinking Sun
locked embrace
and O' how completely I struggled
that entire night
and O' how the next and the next
and then the next I tasted
betrayal O' how vivid I
I relived the scene in visions,
questioning my eyes,
wondering your motives
I focused, I tried more and more
O' I dug deep, i closed the miles,,
then much closer I witnessed
then, you whispering to the sky
then you reached up your hands
upon the full moon's face
Pulling her down from heaven,
to your promises as you smiled
to deny us, O' I obsessed
You....
Kissing the sun, Promising the moon,
As I watched O' I glared
O' as did I wilt
I withdraw to obscurity
Beneath cover of your growing shadow
a silouhette to follow
making chase of the impossible
I can't give up
all i do is follow,
and look , and press on ,
just to get close enough
To tell you
You are still my sun,
Though you have another
and you are my setting moon,
my unobtainable,...
and my reasoning for every step,
every mile...
Now besought by the breadth
The severity of those betrayals
I hope you knew,
i followed and still do
coming to apprehend
my little tease,
my treasure, my liar
I give chase,
to how completely
how very far I would go
just to prove once and for all
I love you.
I shall, one day...
If and when the stars let me
they decide...
Even they see plainly my envy
As I have no mask
One motive,
Several unknown labels.
I contrast the brilliant
Silk strewn beauty once mine
Falling once, am I choosing
Leg by foot, by will and love
Outshine the sun and by this
Luna will turn it's attention
Perhaps this test of time
Practiced, lonesome patience
May one day return the gaze
Embrace in arms my desire
The only one I want and follow
My world.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
love
its a beautiful thing really,
its brutal, its strong
it so deep, and so heartwarming,
and at the same time,
it makes me want to cry, scream
pound my bed,
punch the white cement wall until my knuckles are ****** raw
and the wall has a display of reds.
it makes me want to break an elegant expensive vase, and crush it in my hand.
its destructive, desired, dangerous,
and yet
i want to laugh
i want to sing
and dance!
dance to oh what a night
dance with my yellow watercolored pillow case, with my favorite pillow stuffed inside
oh, love is so peculiar isn’t it?
its spectacular,
and its like standing in the middle of a ballroom
where dresses and suit ties of different hues reflect the chandelier light hanging from the ceiling,
an array of rainbows cast on the walls.
and yet, theres an emptiness…
one I’m afraid i cannot fill, and rely on you to.
its like standing in an ocean of chaos, of excitement and watching it from afar at the same time.
i can see myself swimming with the sharks, yet i am a bystander
as the thread of my life is strung tautly,
i watch myself bleed, gruesomely torn to pieces
i watch as the water darkens from spilt wine,
the wine that was once salty becomes sickly sweet around me
but i continue watching myself become bones stuck in their teeth.
its like being in an aquarium, encased in water,
and yet, still not a part of it, a distance, yet, a proximity
i watch myself drown through the looking glass, unable to help.
the sign says don’t tap the glass, but i pound and pound.
I am the only one watching myself slowly slow, and slowly stop.
stop breathing, stop fighting.
love is holding your breath, being cautious, yet careless.
Its diving recklessly, unsure whether to be sober, or drunk,
and being both.
its like seeing myself on a high diving board, the water beneath is so deep,
it seems to never start, and never end at the same time.
I can see myself, on the edge peering over,
scared to take a leap of faith,
yet relived i can still feel the sharp breaths,
nervous stomach,
because it means i can still feel, i am still capable of human emotions
i thought had left me long ago, before you.
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 9:07 PM UTC
talent truly follows hard work and dedication
re-reading the words of my soul
i could have been great by now
non the less i found my voice again
hidden among the dust of time
entering from the cold night
field of forgotten memories at the back
running forward the future calls
may i be great with hard work and endurance
its scary people will see my soul
the words will echo my struggles
my demon relived and revealed
over and over and over
is this really what i want?
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 7:05 AM UTC
Loneliness
My constant companion
A friend I befriended from my childhood
That sticks with me through thick and thin
No matter where I go
Who I am with
It never let goes off me
Loneliness
A core memory
I’ve relived a countless times
That was responsible for the tears I’ve shed
No matter how many tears
How many hours of therapy
It still hurts
Loneliness
An inevitable emotion
I have stopped running away from
And instead embraced
Because no matter how painful it can be
I always find myself in the end
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 9:55 AM UTC
The strike of the rainbow warriors
After a few hours in the dark cages of horror we suddenly see a sharp light in the sky of evil. The golden goddess notices another ship coming towards the devils spike city.
At that moment the orange and black pirates run towards their ships in dock and sound a long dark horn of terror. The golden goddess notices a large rainbow type ship sailing in firing laser rays at the pirates vessels of evil.
The ship sets into the dock of spike city while some remaining pirates get cut down and captured with blue laser nets of torture. Our eyes open with horror when rainbow type creatures with bows and arrows jump out of the ship and circle our cages of horror.
A few of the black pirate in the purple bushes try and shoot the rainbow warriors but get cut down with their laser fast arrows. The commander of the rainbow warriors suddenly jumps down from the ship and lifts up the cages with power and ease while the warriors round up the captured pirates.
I comfort a shaking luitent megs while the commander shakes our hands before releasing the other golden warriors from their dark cage. The horses bow their heads towards the commander while the golden goddess looks with hope in her beaten heart.
All of a sudden two rainbow warriors march out a swearing and aggressive woman holding a long jagged sword and pirates armband. The rainbow warriors quickly zap her evil body and hold her down tightly . The golden goddess goes over for a better look while her long tongue of nails cuts of a warriors head off with ease.
The rainbow warriors chop her evil tongue off with a swipe of the rainbow sword before pinning her to the cold ground. two of the warriors then begin to peel her black dress of horror off while other rainbow braves flock around.
A curious golden goddess peeps though for a better look while the warriors are undoing her small black studded bra of terror. The goddess looks on with a smile and twinkle while she screams in anger at her ******* bouncing in the dark cold night.
All of a sudden the commander comes inside the circle of torture and begins removing her devilish red ******* while the warriors cheer and scream. The golden goddess looks on with a content smile while the warriors chop her body up into bit with their glowing swords.
After a few minutes the rest of the pirates are shot and executed with laser bouts while we all sit watch with open mouths of horror. The commander then takes us aboard the rainbow ship of safety while the pirates come back to evil spike city with four more pirate ships of torture.
We all sail across the red evil sea towards a big large rainbow in the glowing yellow sky whilst being followed by two black pirate ships. Once we reach through the rainbows end we begin to notice the water turning bright pink and the pirate ships turning back towards the red river of horror.
A relived golden goddess turns towards her army and smiles while we we all jump about on the rainbow ship of safety. I hold luitent megs tight in my arms while the green moon sets across the blue landscape in the distance.
written by wayne mockler
ownership and copyright wayne mockler
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 2:34 PM UTC
*She's too passionate
and oversensitive
for this messy world -
She doesn't fit-in,
so she tries to stay out.
It's a constant
tug-of-war battle
between her fragile heart
and her delicate mind.
She can't help but feel too much -
peace of mind
is all that she ponders about.
She is gentle,
empathetic and intelligent,
but vulnerable -
she was born this way,
She has relived
this same hopeless feeling
every single blessed day.
She is an overthinker -
always reflecting,
always pensive...
Full of genuine love,
whilst drained by such pain;
she is beautifully oversensitive.
She's always lonely
amongst a crowd,
whilst completely lost
deep inside the belly
of the same-old dark cloud.
She's a beautiful, beautiful mess...
She gives her entirety--nothing less!
By Lady R.F. (C) 2017*
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 8:36 PM UTC
Long hair
Long brown hair
Long soft brow hair
Blue eyes
Blue soft eyes
Blue sad eyes
Pretty dress
Pink pretty dress
Flowery pink pretty dress
A chest
A chest so full
A chest so beautifl
Scissors
Scissors on pretty long har
chop, Chop, CHOP
Blue eyes
Teary blue eyes
Relived blue eyes
A hoodie
A hoodie and black jeans
Black ripped jeans and a band T
A chest
A chest in pain
Chest wrapped flat to body
she, She, SHE
Thats what they see
They will never see their son
Dec 7, 2021
Dec 7, 2021 at 5:32 PM UTC
On trembling thigh he could no longer run,
How long ago had this begun?
Slowly down unto frosted field he fell,
How long he'd been running through this waking hell?
From his aching tired chest, he desperately clung to his final frozen breath,
Could it be he'd finished this eternal test?
Weeks had passed in silent still he laid,
Each moment lived, relived within, an' thus his suspended suff'ring began to fade
Return'd back to th' breast of Earth from whence it came
Th' body of man will forever decay the same
Then struck, an infinite instant in which pain and hate he'd known none.
Anew to the world, reborn to new flesh and time, his soul awoke with the desperate need to run.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 9:26 PM UTC
In 2005
my father,
a pastor,
decided that we would house
victims of
Hurricane Katrina.
Our beds would be given
to the ones
whose homes
had been submerged
in water
and humanity.
Kitty and Minnie
were twins
who slept with me every night.
I was only a child,
but I felt like a mother
to these two orphaned girls
who relived the horror
of seeing their grandmother rotting on a bench
every night.
They had nightmares
of their grandmother standing up from the bench
with maggot infested eyes
and green rotting skin
coming to kiss their cheeks.
They were 6 years old.
Eugene was 13
and his last image of home was
his father drowning in their attic
yelling for him to swim
out of a small hole in the ceiling.
His father never learned to swim.
Eugene waited on the roof of his house,
now his father's tomb,
for 3 days
until a helicopter came.
John was an 8 year old boy
with black skin
and silver teeth
who squeezed between me and Kitty every night.
He dreamt of his mother finding him,
and his dream came true;
I watched them walk away together.
Him
in awe of his mom being alive.
Her
drunk and high.
The last time I saw him
his mother was slapping him in the back of the taxi
that took him away from me.
I pray
that
they learned
to overcome
their nightmares.
I hope
every day
that they learned to stand up
to the ones telling them
that their experience
is a crutch,
an excuse,
to never be anything more than what their
parents
are.
I hope
they all learned
to swim.
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 4:11 PM UTC
Serenity my impractical refrain
What oceans I have seen could not contain you
Still from long ago
You sleep with sediment in caves of night
Aiding my excuse not to come rescue
While only you could rescue me
And iron out my body crumpled
To let us sleep with tidy sheets
Relived of grime and filth that has compiled upon my years
Believing I can live with out
A single decent peace of mind
Oppression now has swam up stream
And lurks between resembled shadows
Of the memories adhering only to your name
Oh serenity my impractical refrain
Through fault, from which I’ve been delivered
A bitter place I’ve built around my self
Know that amends are only spoken towards your name
Depleted, torn and strewn I simmer
Swept a ‘withered, for oppression now lies within
Arise a faint acknowledge towards me
If ever you wish to return
And I will tend my bed so rightly
For our sound sleep, together, healing burns
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
I'm a little drunk and it's as if my head is being pounded against a brick wall
But I know the sound if your voice is my favorite song and I can't stop singing the melody
I'm a little depressed and yet I can't stop running around this boring town
But I know I love the way your body strides and I'd like to dance next to you
I'm a little tired and I wish I was asleep, safely cocooned under your dark grey sheets
But I know that the past can never be relived, so I will have to sing myself to sleep tonight.
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
I sat nursing a overpriced draft in a underated dive
in Carolina.
I won't go into the details of it's location.
I won't be there by the time of anyone reading this.
And moments are just that and best left alone.
It was a empty bar .
Only me and the bartender and we weren't here for conversation.
I was avoiding the heat and like some B movie vampire in his coffin.
I found no need to view the light only burn my night world existence.
I never really liked bars much.
The people were pretty much the same social circle rejects and broken
highschool hero's who relived glory one beer at a time.
They always hated the jukebox .
Me I preferred a good song over some far fetched lie
about how some **** ******* saved the game.
Honestly I enjoyed a good drink and some even better music.
As well as the night's silence.
Simple people hate silence.
It forces them to think.
And thinking is a dangerous task for a halfwit.
Course I had to escape my hermit existence sometimes.
Air out my stale thoughts at least for awhile.
I sat there spending what little I never truly had to begin with.
Semi cold beer and smoke the perfume of my thoughts.
I shared only with the wasted page.
Hey mind turning on the jukebox?
I asked the silent man sitting across the bar.
It's broke he said and nothing more.
Well seems me and that machine have something in common.
Sometimes stepping outside seemed like a good idea.
Until you realize outside is filled with a bunch of annoying ******
I never went back to that dive although I hear the jukebox was later
replaced .
With some game that sat at the end of the bar like some idiot box microwave.
Still I think it has more personality than that bartender .
Course I believe at abuck a play it's overrated to begin with.
Cheers.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 10:53 PM UTC
You stepped foot out of the car and sauntered over
I was sure I could watch you come home to me everyday
But we only had 94 hours together
Although, I craved for you to stay
We watched through the tale of The Boy Who Lived
(And you dozed through all my favorite parts)
We relived another seven years in the castle and hallows
While it was really only nineteen hours on the couch
Still, time was of the essence
It had been far too long since your hand was in mine
So, I strived to make the most of it
Before you drove back across the state line
It was during those 94 hours
When you whispered all your affection to me
The glow across your face from the television
When you told me you were falling in love with me
Those 94 hours came to an end and you packed up all your things
You placed my hand on your beating heart, sorting out every feeling
Your car then left the driveway just as easily as it came
All of our time spent apart made me realize one commodity
Absence does make the heart grow fonder
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
"Swing is the mythical moment in rowing. When the energy an oarsman puts into the boat seems to perfectly propel the hull forward, when the crew moves in unison and the boat slides over the water, when the output seems to generate more energy and a grueling pace seems infinitely sustainable, a boat and the rowers aboard feel "swing."
Swing is trust. Trust that you can do your own and the boat will fly because of everyone. The moment of swing is the moment seared into the memory; a moment to be relived in recollection."
Swing I know.
Swing is when my
living words
fall and flow so fast,
they complain, to me,
Keep up, Keep up!
We are in unison in a moment,
forever sustainable, forever lived,
and forever relived,
a myth created,
a recollection
collected and preserved,
singing:
Swing low, sweet poet,
Comin' for to carry us home;
Swing low, sweet poet,
Comin' for to carry us home.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
The old blanket is so hard to discard
dramas have unfolded in its folds
upheavals of winter's orogeny
trills of two birds in ecstatic thrill
to the rest in the ripened knowledge
*we have made a home
we have earned it.*
In the still of night
under the old blanket
the tales are relived
without a touch
a word..
The old blanket is so hard to discard.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 5:00 AM UTC
In your arms
Just two days ago but the feeling’s already leaving
I was bent out of shape
I was dry heaving
on my own stupid emotions so
I wasn’t able
to burn the vision of you in my mind
so hot that it stuck
stuck into me like a point in a ***** turning the turbine
and molding the muck
of my reality, in my conscious so clear it
separates from this one from the great spasm called space and time created by…
I don't know why, but, life sometimes separates the score from the assist.
and now i can’t resist
to list
the ball from the bat
the land from the sea
the you from the……
too corny.
I hope that I don’t seem too pathetic, I’m just too empathetic,
and I need to put this to rest:
to me,
I'm afraid we might be
like that bird who had flown from
The nest, and had his body broken by the nets
seizing the life from his chest.
aHH and now how I seem to sling
with a piece of string
a metaphor
back around to tie the knot
around that bird who got caught cuz
Metaphors and me are a package deal.
they allow me to feel.
And in my sweaty palms.
I felt the life leave
after having expected that it would, yet still also hoping that it might not.
But it did.
And everything should be ok but it’s not. And I should feel relived but I don’t. And I should be excited for what’s next but
I just feel sad.
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 11:25 PM UTC
1-DESIRE: 4-UNCARE:
All of me now desires,be deep Distracted ideals,a nature human
Wholly Inside of you,Pervade Heavenly woven synergies broken
Your mind, limbs, Heart, all pores Power of pleasures mortal, killing magic
Soak in your salty sweat warm Snapping wands,bonds dearly formed
Mold dancing to a one united. Sweet temptress transient, conquering care.
2-PASSION: 5- DISILLUSION:
Bodies’ lithe now twined serpentine We betrayed, cheated US, in neglect,
Straining desperate, for a merger Holes in hearts bleeding precious Love,
Spiritual, souls both for unison striving Admitting indifference cruel, ruining stealthily
Hearts two pumping as one to fuse. Our paradise gained, won so easy, lost terribly.
Sacred is everything, this carnality too. Chanced eternity wasted, destiny unmeant made.
3-LOVE: 6- REALITY:
Ensconced tight in warmth’s mutual, Tempered in time space, 3-LOVE loyal savior sole,
All is for sacrifice on our loves altar, Enshrined indestructible, in being, memories relived.
Suspended thoughts, egos burnt ash Pleasures now cynically felt, loves truly responded,
A Love Mindless meditating deep, No dilemma human; I flow generous, as an epitaph,
In some state mystically enlightened. Thanking destiny for this reclaim, my love,faring well.
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 4:55 AM UTC
he steps forward to bless us with song
benediction’s serenade
binder clips and clothespins weaken wind
as sheet music tries to take flight
with each strum he was fighting it
emoting with sad lips and blue eyebrows
taking deep breaths let out with heavy sighs
but holding steady
singing and crying come from the same place
as he sang the sun sneaked out
shadows surrendered their stronghold
a moment of warmth shown upon our gathering
near the pine tree at our father’s grave
Terence’s ashes to be interred with dad
a musician, an artist, a writer of songs and poems
a technician, an electrician, a wood worker
his many gifts now only spoken of in past tense
a son to two, a brother to eight
an uncle to many
a father to one daughter
his passion relived in his writings and works
his essence reflected in her eyes
Sep 6, 2010
Sep 6, 2010 at 10:59 AM UTC
Memories:
the back and forth trajectories
the internal out-of-sync in-sync directories
of treasured moments, of pleasantries
and the reviled relived accessories of treachery.
My memory is pitted with chasms like Swiss Cheese
the phantom dreams of being hit by a car in a winters bite
the realities of unconsciousness and brain spasms
the fathoms baffles in batches and waves of breaches
disfigured features like a frosted window caked in creatures
burrowed and riddled like a parasite in the spite of night.
By the time id got to hospital id forgotten my own name
fortunately I had a gas bill in my pocket which hadn't freed itself
while being violently hurled over the red car bonnet
and it became the one and only evidence that I even existed
even though the A & E nurse insisted and persisted on asking questions:
my address, date of birth, blood type, emergency contact -
like Id have it tattooed on my body like a scene from Memento
amid the voices in crescendo and brain-damage thumping techno.
That was a few years ago, or was it, I couldn't be sure now
but some days I forget what I did in the morning
so I just have to live for the moment somehow
the memories like Swiss Cheese constantly morphing
to the piped tune of the cerebral banshee
buzzing in my left ear like a perpetual honey bee
makes me wonder though;
I am lactose and diary free - the dominant dietary preponderant
some modernistic conglomerate causing ultimate lethargy.
Does this mean if recollections are like Swiss Cheese
I am intolerant to memories?
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
Since the day I met You I knew You were no ordinary girl. It's not because your hair was more colourful than the northern lights or because your smile was so dorkishly adourable.
You see I would never really get nervous around girls, and I already knew you for a couple of years so the thought of there ever being something died a long time ago.
so I still cannot understand why when our hands interlocked that Wednesday morning, in that empty feild with nothing but us and the crickets, You managed to transform the butterflies in my stomach to pterodactyls, the frog that was once in my throat has been swallowed by a tyrannosaurus.
You made the feelings of a first crush come back to life, I relived it over and over until first crush was changed to first love.
But when you kissed me, when you kiss me the creatures in me became prehistoric. Their bodies burnt away with nothing but remains left behind, And their bones were used to build the foundation of the feeling that I still have today.
You know most people say when they have a special kiss they see fireworks, but girl when I first kissed you I saw a meteor shower.
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 8:11 AM UTC
The reflections in the window
Show me the truths I can't escape.
They show me the lies I've believed,
The pain I've endured.
I see all the people who've used,
Betrayed and hurt me.
I close my eyes against them,
But they won't go away.
Not only do the reflections show
The pain I've endured,
But the pain I've inflicted as well.
Flinching away from all this,
I take a step back.
I don't want to remember,
But these reflections,
These reflections of my past
Won't let me be.
How hard I'd tried to build up these walls,
Years it took.
And now, it only takes a few moments
To break them down again.
These reflections quickly crumble my walls,
Exposing the pain,
Making old wounds raw once more.
I'm screaming in my head.
"Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop..."
These haunting reflections,
Everything I saw, all that I relived,
In my own eyes...
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 5:01 PM UTC
they say you shouldn't hold tight onto a dark memory
because the demons will slowly take over
and corrupt your sanity.
what they fail to mention is releasing your grip, allowing yourself to cave in and be consumed with your reality is the most painful of all.
frame by frame of the haunting must now be relived.
the aroma, the deafening pounding of your heart in your ears, the clenching of your bones.
the most engaging and powerful moment of one's life is undoubtably the moment you must
allow yourself to not only remember,
but be enveloped by the terror
once again.
speaking aloud is what changes
a memory into reality.
why must facing the truth be the most painful?
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 8:20 AM UTC
It seems so distant so far away
Your mind wanders to it all the time
Is it the place that you can't shake off?
Or is it the people you grew up with?
You ask, does the place miss you?
Do the people remember you?
Is nostalgia always one sided?
Can the moments be relived?
Will the rivers, the valleys, the trees
Embrace and welcome you back?
Does it make a difference to them?
That you want to return
Can you see yourself in that picture?
Can you still hear the laughter?
Where has everyone gone?
Will the picture ever come alive?
What remains today
Are just images in your mind
Leave it to the others
Let them make their memories now.
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 7:38 PM UTC