"remnance" poems
I had once herd a tale of both gooblins and goblins
that hide by the house on the hill full of robins
where no cats would lie
not a feline in site
in that case nor a horse and toboggan
If when the sun set
by your luck you'd have met
a most suddenly sense, you'll most likely regret
to inform that the norm is is most vital
a chorus recital while sleeping, the feeling is seeping
of course, he fears for the reaping
To come?
Is it done?
has it happened?
No third party captions
his captor
a mind full of rapture
to hear ever after
a rapping, a tapping
his own hands just clapping
the door doesn't move
but the grooves in the wall are expanding
these dreams so demanding
Demented dimensions
his body retention of fear and the queer
have him panting
gasps without asking
a sublime such as this
and the temperance of bliss
have the curtains been called
or is it all but a miss
guided ventures of vengeance
His soul but a remnance of courage
is left in the depths
and before us he slept
such a man who believes
in trees where the robins at ease
do enjoy such a breeze
That breath air in the room
where he lay quite awake
Till his wake
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 12:15 AM UTC
I once had a small purple vase.
It was almost a year old.
But I remembered how my ex and I blundered
And all of his things had to go.
I gave away his sweatshirt
His shorts and shirts got burned
And the teddy bear he gave me
Was torn apart by the people who mean most to me.
He gave me a purple vase.
It was wrapped pretty in a bow
Once it had living flowers
But now I had to let it go
I went outside with my true family
And recorded my final blow
Of shattering the vase
On the ground below
I felt the ricochet
Of a piece run astray
And my baby exclamed to me
That I cut myself indeed
And thats when I realized
How my last relationship was really through
Because if I cut my head with the other one
He wouldn't have held my hand to help me
He would have let me do it on my own
And not even checked on me
I know this for sure
Because it happened once before
I feel free now for sure
That all his things are out my home
And once I see my baby's things replace them
It becomes the final bow
For once I see no remnance of him
I think I'll truely feel clean
Once my forehead heals
And memories repress
I'll finally be able
To fully put him to rest
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 12:51 AM UTC
A lullaby remembered
Remnance of night Conversation between the piano n a flute
Mother and daughter duet
Floads my being with memories
How could I have forgotten
It's what I needed to make do with brokenness
A bravado to fend off, to show strength
Truth is brokenness, exist reaffirmed by a lost lullaby
Takes me back before time made sense
When mum was my universe and I was hers
I love her all my life, she loves me my lifetime
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
Take me to the places I've dreamed,
the ones inside my mind.
The faces I don't recognize,
but I know that they're my kind.
Their voices are unknown,
stuck inside my head.
And the worst time
when they come to me most,
is when I lay upon my bed.
I can remember
gourds made into art
and the times when I was younger,
my mind fuzzy and blurred.
So take me back to those places,
so I might remember what
I'd heard.
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 9:29 PM UTC
I
You came to me that night with singed thoughts
spinning wildly around me as you questioned-
the universe.
I could only watch as you carved madness into scraps of paper.
While your skull met my bedroom wall
again
and again
and again.
Only for you to run into the street and set fire to your findings.
It was then that you spoke to me for the first time that night
I need to go to the hospital.
II
Folding my self into the chairs of the only emergency room I trusted
I counted my breaths.
As your mother counted the ways that this was her fault.
Until they unlocked the maze of doors that lead to your sterile prison.
But there were still no answers,
only therapeutic needles to the hips meant to mute the mania.
But it could only stun yours to sleep long enough to be moved
to a bigger behavioral prison
III
The next three days were a series of
waiting rooms
phone calls
safe words
and locked doors.
Waiting through a supposed 72 hour hold.
But in this world weekends don't count.
And once again I found myself folded into a waiting room
as I met your grandparents.
Immediately forgetting their names
because all I could do was wonder,
If my sanity was falling just as fast as you were.
IV
I found you barefoot in a new pile of paper madness,
careening in a suicide proof wasteland.
Your eyes seared through my sockets as you whispered to me-
I want out.
But your blood was polluted with experimental drugs
and your fingers were twitching for a nicotine fix you couldn't get.
You some how managed to silence your body long enough
to convince them your mind had followed.
And that for you weekends do count.
V
You came back to me no longer singed but burning.
They eradicated your sanity and pretended to send it home with you
in a bottle of pills.
I watched you piece what was left of it back together.
So now we could wade through the remnance-
and wait
for it to all happen again.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 10:03 PM UTC
Patiently waiting
To see what unfolds
Though my heart seems to know
This story and how it goes
The tale this time seems a little different
I am watching with my eyes half opened half closed
Like a beautiful sunrise that blinds you
yet comforts you with it's warmth
Your essence is like a crash of waves
But it seems to wash away my fears
I can't swim but I'm ready to dive in
I can't breathe but I'm ready to inhale
I'm hoping you won't be disappointed
As my scars unveil
There are no waves big enough to erase the remnance of pain
But you are the big one I've been waiting for
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC