"remnents" poems - Hello Poetry

It seemed the space between us became torn and Profoundly distanced.................... Jamming bony knuckles and spread eagled fingers, Lying their mapped out journey.....direction on point patrol.... Adorned by silver decoration, delighting in their skinned habitat Shafted, deceit punching the recipient of the poison digits Prodding and pushing their intent....dare you contradict The intended carved out dose of punishment, Risk and Safety......not yours and never would be; stooped Down under the assailing bony palmed attachements That delivered penetrating power, cupped around Your arm til it became discoloured, pressure points Backed you into a corner, up against the grain of the Brick wall, cold and damp, the odour reaching And scolding your nostrils with its stale internal vows Refuse, stretching and protruding its foul remnents An earlier life, when you were not under threat fades Your very existance in jeopardy, your eyes pleaded for Normality, willing someone to hear your silence, grip you Tightly, not with malice, but with bravery and valour Right now you need that shining knight, that white Horse galloping down the blind alleyway, yet you Know that won't happen for you're already sinking To the floor, the blow comes sharp and stings, warmth Exudes and trickles a path downwards, leaving your Body, finding the cold concrete beneath you, travelling Outwards................

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Sep 3, 2012

Sep 3, 2012 at 7:58 AM UTC

laura-susan-smith

Wrong place.....wrong time

It seemed the space between us became torn and Profoundly distanced.................... Jamming bony knuckles and spread eagled fingers, Lying their mapped out journey.....direction on point patrol.... Adorned by silver decoration, delighting in their skinned habitat Shafted, deceit punching the recipient of the poison digits Prodding and pushing their intent....dare you contradict The intended carved out dose of punishment, Risk and Safety......not yours and never would be; stooped Down under the assailing bony palmed attachements That delivered penetrating power, cupped around Your arm til it became discoloured, pressure points Backed you into a corner, up against the grain of the Brick wall, cold and damp, the odour reaching And scolding your nostrils with its stale internal vows Refuse, stretching and protruding its foul remnents An earlier life, when you were not under threat fades Your very existance in jeopardy, your eyes pleaded for Normality, willing someone to hear your silence, grip you Tightly, not with malice, but with bravery and valour Right now you need that shining knight, that white Horse galloping down the blind alleyway, yet you Know that won't happen for you're already sinking To the floor, the blow comes sharp and stings, warmth Exudes and trickles a path downwards, leaving your Body, finding the cold concrete beneath you, travelling Outwards................

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I carried her into my house And I didn't want to wake her So I carefully ripped her blouse And removed her rare fur. I was hungry for pleasure So I ripped everything else away, Opened her up and loved her The tears in my eyes eating me away. Suddenly, I nearly jumped a mile When she slowly opened her eyes And she grunted and they grew wide So I held her words inside. Quickly, I showed her my fist And she replied by softening up I remember that I was ****** And stopped early, for I was drunk. She thought her ride was done And I could see she wanted more For she was crying to the set sun But I had none to give her So I had her sit still and quiet And went across the hall to The kitchen, grabbed the knife And came back to the dark room The skin was begging for my bite I decided I had to make it right And her heart was velvet in the night Her blood had a taste of great heights. I was done now, and so was she But the remnents were a sad sight So I threw them in and let them freeze And smelled her soul in the night.

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Aug 10, 2010

Aug 10, 2010 at 11:49 AM UTC

ryan-bowdish

Forcing Love

I carried her into my house And I didn't want to wake her So I carefully ripped her blouse And removed her rare fur. I was hungry for pleasure So I ripped everything else away, Opened her up and loved her The tears in my eyes eating me away. Suddenly, I nearly jumped a mile When she slowly opened her eyes And she grunted and they grew wide So I held her words inside. Quickly, I showed her my fist And she replied by softening up I remember that I was ****** And stopped early, for I was drunk. She thought her ride was done And I could see she wanted more For she was crying to the set sun But I had none to give her So I had her sit still and quiet And went across the hall to The kitchen, grabbed the knife And came back to the dark room The skin was begging for my bite I decided I had to make it right And her heart was velvet in the night Her blood had a taste of great heights. I was done now, and so was she But the remnents were a sad sight So I threw them in and let them freeze And smelled her soul in the night.

32

the tendencies creep back like the sun at dawn- truly numb and passive to their cries they fall to the cold floor limp and dull and quiet leaking from new orifices and taking their light with them while my head spins a complicated tapestry on a broken loom red string angry and burning screaming with no end in the dark while i cling to fleeting feelings and clean the remnents of theirs with a snap i'm sent tumbling struggling can't find air water food shelter my head pounds my eyes ablaze and skin tight across my eyes and temples when the light hits it's over and i awake- numb

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Aug 12, 2013

Aug 12, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC

paige-elliott

[the tendencies creep back]

the tendencies creep back like the sun at dawn- truly numb and passive to their cries they fall to the cold floor limp and dull and quiet leaking from new orifices and taking their light with them while my head spins a complicated tapestry on a broken loom red string angry and burning screaming with no end in the dark while i cling to fleeting feelings and clean the remnents of theirs with a snap i'm sent tumbling struggling can't find air water food shelter my head pounds my eyes ablaze and skin tight across my eyes and temples when the light hits it's over and i awake- numb

30

I dreamed a dream but forgot as i woke and the remnents linger on in my soul I grab hold of the snippets the small little pieces Weaving them to make it seem whole but quickly i see its not meant to be my patching and sewing’s in vain Closing my eyes walking in faith Hoping the dream will live again.

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Oct 16, 2012

Oct 16, 2012 at 8:35 AM UTC

toni-cezeal

A dream

I dreamed a dream but forgot as i woke and the remnents linger on in my soul I grab hold of the snippets the small little pieces Weaving them to make it seem whole but quickly i see its not meant to be my patching and sewing’s in vain Closing my eyes walking in faith Hoping the dream will live again.

12

One night you let me borrow your sweater and i still feel it on me and i still smell your scent and i think i melted and the remnents are still trying to put themselves together

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Apr 9, 2014

Apr 9, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC

ben-skross

Untitled #5

One night you let me borrow your sweater and i still feel it on me and i still smell your scent and i think i melted and the remnents are still trying to put themselves together

1

i loved buk* from the get-go thank you lizzie from norway do not lose them mother ****** you would say.. notes of a ***** old man and factotem- i remember them.. through him i liked poetry.. some may say adolescent but he made so love.. and in post office when an alsation smells his **** we are all transported to heaven..! he threatened his audience.. who the hell is tom jones.. ii well,lizzie, i lost them.. and losing borrowed books were we in hell.. i lent them to some one who swore the same..i hear your laugh! he had a head on in the dark he broke his leg and his friend broke his arm.. the books were gone.. stupid **** you would say i recall you big honest grin.. you said you liked me.. because i never turned down a drink.. if this was irony it was lost on me..lol.. so the books picked up by some one passing and loved and cherished just like i do you now.. changing lives and growing love.. i thought about you.. when they carried each other past to the bathroom.. just drunk and fine! while we looked on thanks for lending me them... iii lily say something she is busy reading the rats by james herbert.. a late sixties horror classic every one gets it.. the rat is so deep in our pscyche these one´s are wise too..dog size..packs.. they have the taste for human flesh.. it is early days.. it is a secret a scratch causes death within 24 hours.. it is herberts way this is a real period piece a simple style we had a national health system..last remnents of a great empire.. a working class rats..are..eating..people... in amongst our order be it puppy baby school boy mary.. they are slashing and pulling cheeks away.. i do skip bits..where is the wine.. astrix charles bukowski..

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Aug 20, 2017

Aug 20, 2017 at 8:19 AM UTC

michael-john

charles bukowski

i loved buk* from the get-go thank you lizzie from norway do not lose them mother ****** you would say.. notes of a ***** old man and factotem- i remember them.. through him i liked poetry.. some may say adolescent but he made so love.. and in post office when an alsation smells his **** we are all transported to heaven..! he threatened his audience.. who the hell is tom jones.. ii well,lizzie, i lost them.. and losing borrowed books were we in hell.. i lent them to some one who swore the same..i hear your laugh! he had a head on in the dark he broke his leg and his friend broke his arm.. the books were gone.. stupid **** you would say i recall you big honest grin.. you said you liked me.. because i never turned down a drink.. if this was irony it was lost on me..lol.. so the books picked up by some one passing and loved and cherished just like i do you now.. changing lives and growing love.. i thought about you.. when they carried each other past to the bathroom.. just drunk and fine! while we looked on thanks for lending me them... iii lily say something she is busy reading the rats by james herbert.. a late sixties horror classic every one gets it.. the rat is so deep in our pscyche these one´s are wise too..dog size..packs.. they have the taste for human flesh.. it is early days.. it is a secret a scratch causes death within 24 hours.. it is herberts way this is a real period piece a simple style we had a national health system..last remnents of a great empire.. a working class rats..are..eating..people... in amongst our order be it puppy baby school boy mary.. they are slashing and pulling cheeks away.. i do skip bits..where is the wine.. astrix charles bukowski..

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