"renovating" poems
The love of God's a mansion,
And wholly paradise.
He's renovating your cottage
To rebuild you with life.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 4:36 AM UTC
15 years old:
invite a group of friends over
to sit in my empty living room
with brand new wood floors -
we’re renovating
proof: I’m not poor
16 years old:
hang out of my sister’s
bedroom window,
swing into wet mulch,
steal away to twone’s
to get hammered and
touch my first ****
proof: I’m not afraid
18 years old:
lament over the fact
that I’m the last senior
alive without a cell phone
you got the flip, *****
happy birthday
proof: I’m one of you
21 years old:
rip six foot bongs,
squirt jaeger bombs
into mouths from a gallon jug,
***** black sushi sacrifice
proof: I can hang
22 years old:
get caught with drugs
in 90 degree Arizona desert,
make friends with drug dog,
tell the truth while you take a ****
sit in a cell and make plans
to call brother for bail
proof: the truth won’t always set me free
11 years old:
go into a department store
with my auntie,
heavy footsteps follow,
head to the juniors department,
heavy footsteps follow,
turn round, see an old man,
think, ‘he must be shopping for
his granddaughter’
proof: innocence is blind
have to *** head to the bathroom,
heavy footsteps follow
with ragged breathing,
watch as Velcro sneakers stand
just beyond the door my stall,
curl into a ball and
wait, wait, wait,
as my brain takes on silent screaming
proof: I am nothing but prey
hear the next stall door
creak open,
watch feet walk in and legs
begin to bend,
explode out of stall
into store,
find auntie and begin
hyperventilation and
true demonstration of fear
proof: I am a woman now
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 4:41 PM UTC
I loved a boy with a rather small heart,
sometimes he'd let me in and I'd roam through,
running my fingers along the scratches the walls held
and cautiously stepping over the loose floorboards.
He told me love once lived
in this dark and brooding place.
He told me he'd have married her,
but she damaged all the rooms,
so he forced the doors shut.
I loved a boy who put off cold distance
and placed a "keep out" sign on his front door.
Sometimes he'd let me in
to paint the grey walls vibrantly,
or put down new flooring;
to replace the glass windows she'd shattered,
and open the curtains.
He told me love once thrived there
and that every day the sun would shine through.
"It was Love." he would say,
who kept him warm in the winter,
but she dismembered the foundation,
and flooded the basement,
so he locked himself away.
I loved a boy who couldn't love me back.
Sometimes he'd let me in
to fill the cracks in the molding,
or plant flowers in the garden.
Sometimes he let me start a fire in the fireplace,
and turn the bed over.
He told me love once belonged there,
and that my renovating was comforting,
but futile nonetheless.
The old creaky staircase
would never forget the imprints of her feet
and the gates in the yard
were not strong enough to keep her out.
I loved a boy once who chose to remain haunted
despite every attempt I made
to set his soul free.
I loved a boy once who couldn't let go of a ghost.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 10:38 PM UTC
my delusional mind has committed vacancy
for not quite a while, yet i've grown dull of it.
three to four years ago i was always thinking
don't get me wrong, i think twice as much now
but not like how i used to, just empty thoughts.
i've had people come and go, renovating areas
leaving permanent fixtures
that unfortunately, cannot be replenished
i just hope for a full remodeling someday
a new outlook on this whole forsaken catastrophe
mistakenly, im just lucidly dreaming
a thriving desire of mine that's too good to be true.
- m.n.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 9:01 PM UTC
I used to be blind before I met you.
Walking around with shades a pitch darker than necessary
And long side swept bangs across the small frame of my face
Partly covering my eyes.
It was pleasant to hide behind
Especially when introduced to new places, new faces.
I'd just let out a shy smile behind the fringes of my hair
Then quietly cower away
Melting back into the atmosphere.
My head is swamped with enough thoughts to
Keep me occupied for hours.
It was my playground,
My stonewall castle,
My home.
And every time I ever felt stupid or small,
I'd just reside behind my front
And settle myself deeper into the pity party resort
I had built and been renovating for years.
You, on the contrary, didn't see the girl I'd see in the mirror.
I was more than just another figure in the background to you,
I was more than a pair of nice eyes and *******
More than a waste of space,
I was your fancy and you saw right through me,
Which scared me so.
This veil, this front, and the tricks I had up my sleeve
To keep everyone who could ever come close to caring out,
Wouldn't work so well on you.
Nope.
Instead, you grew more curious,
You would ask questions,
Laugh at my remarks,
Insist that I elaborate,
Tell me to speak up because you knew
How I had so much to say
But how soft spoken I can be.
It was raining one night and we were all out back by the garage
Sipping out of cheap beer cans and smoking our bummed cigarettes..
I walked outside to dance in the rain and you followed me there.
I remember how your steps were directly behind mine in perfect sync,
Then with the swift piercing stare of your big blue eyes
I melted right into the brick wall.
My bones turned to jelly and the tape that was over my eyelids
fell right off because your fingers managed to brush them open,
And from that point on, I no longer saw a point in closing them.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 12:56 PM UTC
if I could renovate my life
as you'd renovates your place
if I could get rid those lousy-things
as you'd throw away your good-for-nothing things
if I could fix my life
like fixing broken parts in your room
if I could do it over
like painting over the walls
if this life is an interior designs
that possess before and after
if my life that worn-out at "before"
could turn into the glamorous "after"
can I renovate it?
Jun 28, 2021
Jun 28, 2021 at 12:47 AM UTC
My love is focused stares across a crowded room, extended fingertips, longing.
My love is inopportune places at inopportune times.
My love is counting down the minutes until work is over.
My love is picturing his clothes in a ball on my bedroom floor,
my love is his clothes on me.
My love is wanting to open Christmas presents early, but worth waiting for.
My love is drunken nights sobbing on the bathroom floor, men are allowed to rely on their women.
Sometimes my love is a pumpkin spice latte, seasonal.
My love is jumping off a plane and opening a parachute, jumping off a bridge and feeling the bungee chord; thrilling, seemingly dangerous but I'm always protected.
My love is falling down seven times, standing up eight.
My love is my steadfast faith in what I can't see.
My love is renovating a burnt down city. Finding beauty in ashy remains.
My love is 4 AM night terrors, soft whispers, fingers through my hair.
My love is lust wrapped in a pretty package.
My love is fire, whether it keeps me warm or destroys everything in its wake depends on the day.
My love is **** that guy baby, he doesn't matter, you're not alone, I love you, you're beautiful." My love judges people he doesn't know so my wrists stay porcelain, not Crimson.
My love hates my music but listens anyway, hates my glasses but looks at me anyway, hates my singing but sings with me anyway.
My love is a bullfight on eggshells. We know nothing of subtlety.
My love is a diamond in the rough, he's the diamond, I'm the rough.
My love is ******** up everyday and wearing his patience thin.
My love is holding the same hand, kissing the same lips, seeing the same eyes every day and never getting bored.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
Life is a struggle
A place where no one goes without a cut
This I wonder looking up to the hill before me
The hill of age!
.
Could this be a disease ?
As each strand of my dark hair refashioning into grey
.
Could this be an aliment?
My dimples renovating to wrinkles
My skin losing his smoothness
.
Could this be amnesia?
My brain on strike?
My memories are fading like sunshine at twilight
.
Climbing the hill age
Full of struggles like a
Tapper climbing a palm tree
Climbing the hill
To join the ancestors
Climbing the hill to
Begin the journey to the another phase!
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 12:45 AM UTC
Typing on a keyboard blindly imagining a new font
The scant canvas before me is intimidating
I relish the world I'm renovating
A new dawn gleaming it's way to my thoughts steady stream
Enchanting my mind like Aurora Borealis beams
It seems as though a victim was made by tracing lines through sand
Can it all be saved? Or is it a depraved, hopeless, sinking land?
Despondent while reciting lines my mind has bought
Simultaneously causing my blood cells to rot
Wishing for one blaze or spark of true inspiration
*Pick up your tools and fix all you have wrought craven
Save it, reclaim it because no matter the end of this mess
You promised to light your candles entrenched in your best*
The ****** of what my heart beats to in trance
Save one last Gypsy's moon dance for me
The once intoxicating chills now feel so *******
This wine drenched life is my last chance
Dear Sunshine:
There was a time when I wished that you would go away
Leave me to the hallow I burrowed myself in to keep me warm
Dear Starlight:
You left me with an eternal plight asking for your radiance to stay
When I feel the burn of your kiss catch the last flight
Dear Home:
Fallacy's throne upon which I sit left me conducive with fright
Until I learned how to fabricate sails out of wind and stones
Dear Family:
Can all of you see that even though I wayward roam
Snow leopards must protect ALL of those who are in need
Dear Friends:
I wish it didn't have to end, Sighing away the sown seeds
You live on by the ink on my skin as well as your mark that mends
Dear You:
Though I can't walk in your shoes, I'll trace the bends
...
and wind back around to lend you my heart in lieu
Dear Me:
All ahead that you perceive is binding together and tearing in two
...So tangible then are all the mad ramblings infinite
Said all the ephemeral wise men clearly.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
My landlord is renovating the neighboring room.
I inhale, eyes closed, and I'm faced with God. Unable to speak, I listen as he tells me that life is worth living and that love is worth loving. He says that I'm doing pretty well despite the circumstances and that often an ounce of a smile is worth ten tonnes of agony.
I inhale, bleach and other cleaning solutions siphoning reality from my extremities, replacing it with a calming alternative.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
on my commute there is a building.
facade worn and *****
the brick needs to be replaced in places,
repointed in others,
but it's solid.
they've been working on it for months, now,
and today i finally saw
that they've been working from the inside out,
and now it's time to open the building,
and let the hard work be seen.
as i went by,
i was awed by the care they took,
to preserve the old brick that needs repointing,
because the outside is worth keeping -
when the work within shines forth,
augmenting the past,
renovating the future.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 7:27 AM UTC
Middle of the night
LED lights
Displaying Silver City
The streets under it are too gritty
Is this what is comprised in the Central City?
Can't vent to the Committee
That will solve nothing
That's my greatest frusturation
Homeless number is growing
The only place to sleep in is getting in the towing
There's not enough ways of knowing
Due to lack of exposure
The only way I'll feel any closure
Is when they decide to take action
Put these sentiments intro traction
I've been solving the fractions
Days and days on
I will play on
This song
Because it has been far too long
Kicking the Homeless in tents
Yet allow these women to be around Men that could put them in a ditch
Harassed and disrespected
You can gratify away, defect
You can't always detect
Danger
I've been carrying these thoughts like a Hangar
And now it's time to egress
I'm not doing it to impress
I'm putting morals to the test
I vastly detest
These Men groping and trying to look under their dress
And allow it
When there's desperate people needing a place to stay
And they disavow it
Bulldozing old homes where they stay to build new ones
Instead of renovating them
These rich folks coming in
Voting Democrat
Which is the party of the Mayor
Who doesn't give a Rat's
***
About any of them
The effrontery to call this city silver
Is appalling
When there's people who need helping
And there's been nothing but stalling
Your perception of hitting the gold is rich cars, mansions and throngs of women
What an edged omen
Mine is a cheap and efficient car, modest house and a wife I come home to every night
That's my Silver City
Don't need to blow hundreds to celebrate
When there is much more important things in life to value
Forget being scared of the poor
Try to open them doors
Get the number of poverty off the floor
And into something more
Serene
That's the kind of life that is
Supreme.
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 4:22 AM UTC
I live in a God's complex
A metropolis of facilities all lined up neatly in rows
One by one, each line of an intelligent design
State of the art insulations perfectly enclosing this refuge
An oasis in the cold, safe from outside harm
Sheltering the lost arts of relaxation and comfort
They say God is blind
Oh so precious was the thought
But from this view
I can see everything
And from the inside
I can hear everything
Carry anything
What could ever tear this down?
Who knows
Only God knows
God's elaborate
God's complex
He oversees everything
Hears everything
But they say God was deaf
That God owed them
A heaven in the skies
That he hears everything
The truths and the lies
But God owns a building complex
Behind walls he was confined
He was a terrorist
By the mask that we assigned
An almost architect
A destroyer nonetheless
And through his own believes
He was once an atheist
A teacher, a student
A son, a mother
A father, a daughter
A cynic and a lover
Conformist and traitor, his own creator
A dreamweaver, human creature, Godmaker
Taking up every living space this world had to offer
Settling in, committing sin
Exploiting God's creations, claiming it theirs
Leeching off all that he is within
Taking and taking as God gave them up out of love
One by one the spaces were occupied
The new Gods came
As all the young and old put words in each other's mouths
Fighting for what was once good, now only selfish
Driven by a need
For a purpose, a calling
A self-fulfilling prophecy to create something out of nothing
They talked in circles and shapes
As he
He didn't say a word
And so they thought he was mute
But they just never listened
Inside these last four walls
He will hear everything
When nothing outside exists anymore
When nothing he's created talks back anymore
When nothing moves, and nothing moves him
Dead silence
He's heard enough
And so on the last day he rested
To never return again
God has a building complex
To renovate
Renovate
Renovating the nothingness inside
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 11:11 PM UTC
My Holy Ghost came
In the form of anxiety
In the night.
She said, “You’ve got to
Start moving until momentum
Gets you by.”
At first I began to question
Because; I guess that’s just
What I do.
Than I ran to look in a mirror
To see the person that
Gets me through.
ie, myself
Everyone leaves
When you’re stuck in the mud.
So I listened to my heart & started
Pushing; thanking an apparition
That I wasn’t where I was.
Sometimes; the grass isn’t greener on the other side.
& it took renovating
My mind to finally feel what that was like.
& now I’m flying &, I should be dead.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 12:16 AM UTC
I built an empire
of love
but this house was not a home
and all you ever did was paint the walls
with tears
and hang pictures
of wounding words
i got bone-tired of renovating
this place you called a home
i tried turning on the fire place
to warm up those crazy cold thoughts
i had every single night
as i heard you tear through the house
smashing vases of sympathy over your knee
i tried hanging a sign on the front door
that invited affinity
putting a name on this house as ours
together forever
but nothing ever worked
i tried believing that i could live
in this place of happiness with you
but that was impossible
because there was never any happiness to begin with
it was all just false promises and empty hope
disguised as your need to have me with you
and only you
and i wrote it all down to make sense of it
because maybe if i saw it
i would know that this was a house and not a home
but all i ever did was try and rebuild
everything you tore down
over and over
while i lived in that empty place
you called a heart
and finally, i knew it was never a home
it was just an empty house
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 11:07 AM UTC
I didn't ask him why, he was banging on the door
I was only there, installing the new floors
He drifted in, like an unwelcome ghost from the past
Asked if I had finished, completing my best, and last
Thinking quickly, I told him "NO, not today"
Mind in a quandary, nothing else to say
Leaning in closely, his fetid breath upon my skin
"It really doesn't matter", as he played his violin
Feeling my heart leap, having not finished the stairs
"Bet your house, could use, some handy man repairs?"
He paused, contemplating, his sickle in repose
"I guess it wouldn't hurt, so I do suppose"
"You can start on the entryway, and stoop"
"Doing your best and lastly, building a chicken coop"
I have a small extension, but know it will take years
Renovating death's house, and ordering, from Sears
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 8:19 AM UTC
I have a recurring dream
Settle down
I'll set the scene
An old house I'm renovating
Quite large with many rooms
Outside the garden needs tending
A fishpond with murky water
Broken statue
Needs mending
There's a feeling of foreboding
I try to ignore this
Concentrate on the work
One day it will be
A fine holding
There's a cupboard that's hard to find
You can climb right inside
To a shaft leading down
A
Long
Way
Down
Once you reach the bottom
There's a tunnel
That goes straight ahead
Taking a walk down
I start to forget
It's small things to start
But the further I go
More is forgotten
I'm compelled to carry on
But where do I stop?
Until I've forgotten who I am?
Until I've forgotten how to turn back!
How far can I push forward?
Each time
I try to go
Another step
Forward
Then
One
Last
Thought
Is
Left
TURNAROUND
Each step back
Brings a memory back
It's at this point
I awake
Every time I return
The renovation
Has progressed
Fish now swim
In clear water of the pond
The feeling of foreboding
Is lessening
Birds outside
Now singing
But
That cupboard is still
Hard to find
I know
If of the mind
Could find
And one more time......
Jul 13, 2024
Jul 13, 2024 at 3:40 AM UTC
How are you having a whole of whats halving are you god do you assimalte what im renovating and rediscovering what ive excavated so far is all in intensity the duration of a whole life rent with hell im imagining what life would have been if i ever learned to live without but i never did and this is why im dead between everything
Nothing is close to what i need
Waiting for the reaper to name me
Waiting for your darkesss to need me
Waiting for the light to redeem me
And nothing ever bleeds the same
You are chemically indoctrinated
By the stains of your lamented womb
And a callous widowed bystander
In the heart of the gold in my tomb
Death is the savior in memory
and the coldest glass before revival
Give me.something to love again
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 2:52 AM UTC
Roman Catholic
Open
Saving
A prayer for everybody
Renovating
Yoke easy, burden light
Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 12:31 PM UTC
She sways within the Midnights
Vineyards an exotic gypsy
With a rose in her hair
Her Love is naked as the moonlight
Her gaze is a bouquet that sighs
My Beauty waltzes uniquely for you
To Soothe your Blue
with the Sublime
You ease your mind
Because shes simply fine wine
And for the first time,
Your love feels at home
Because theres Something unique
In her sway,
A sweet Affinity
like youve both
Caressed with the diamonds
And golden flowers of Infinity
Where sweet love is free to really love
She loosens her velvet robe
With your every care
And tousles the honey of her hair
And for the first time
The Rose love WithIn you
Is really there
Youre together alone
away from the tumult and bustle
Your heartache melts
like the Winter snow
With her Exotic beautys honey flow
The luminosities of the Heavenly moon
Intimately aglow
Because theres Something sweet
In her gaze, her love like candles
Tenderly ablaze
Like you both have felt the same
Sweet kisses of the Evening rain
And sipped its stars loving champagne
WithIn the moonlit canopy
Of divine vineyard vines
She salsas like shes read
All of Neruda sonnets
And Love poems
and even some of your own
And your kindred love
Is deep as the moon is high
And sweet in the Midnights sky
Her Beauty waltzes with you
And your Love together alone
Is renovating romance and sighs
Because theres Something exquisite
In her sway,
you can love her forever and a day
She waltzes in The Midnights
Vineyard like a Salsa rose
Her robe upon the caress
of the fine wine vines
You sweetly kiss your loves
rose bouquets within her breast
Tender sweet in her pretty soul
Youve both never felt so Whole
Her hair in the vineyard breeze
Her iris stilletos upon her heels
With the Rose Gold of the Moon
Your love luminously WithIn there
Reynaldo Casison
Mar 4, 2025
Mar 4, 2025 at 5:25 AM UTC
One day!
A long long time back
I was fed up completely with my life
So I thought let’s take a chance
Take a risk in life, so I traveled
Continuously in a lane and
Determined my mind that I will
Not take U-turn in that lane
After a while reached its end
A tip of an edge!!
And
seen an angel goddess in another tip
Near to my adjacent
Simply she was also frustrated with her life
Damm it what we are doing…
Her hairs started flowing against the wind
And her looks blue and pink
Mesmerized me like slowly slowly
My heart is renovating..love by love
But she was also determined
That she will not take U turn
then how will we met then, I asked her
She looked at sky azure
while twinkling her eyes
And said we will meet there
I thought okay reverse if I will go
I will die, forward maybe I will die
We both jumped
into the infinite deep abyss
!!!
!!
!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
She opened her wings
And caught me with her feather
She took initiative and kissed me in air
And I asked who are you, my angel?
She told me, She was just taking a test
“Whether you just say about love
Or
you really mean love from your heart”
I was passed her test
!!!!
then
She took me to heavenly stars
She was twinkling more brightly above far
very far…
like a Venus of heart
her divine art
After reaching her destination
And she waves her hand from the sky
And everyone in ground prayed her
Which I know why…
then onwards I make her my goddess!!!
I prayed her daily….and get peace while praying
Everyday
!!!
!!
!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!
!!
!
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 12:13 AM UTC
Turning into ashes,
burying themselves,
people been really
making that decision
more and more
these days.
Guess it don't make
a great argument
for the state of things.
People'd rather live in hell
than deal with living here
for one more day.
Maybe they're renovating down there.
Maybe it's nicer these days.
I'm sure I'll see it too one day,
one way or another,
but till then I'm just praying
we all stop preying
on ourselves.
Dec 6, 2023
Dec 6, 2023 at 11:43 AM UTC
There are some flaws not even Porcelain 110 can cover and as I slather the spackle on over this mask,
I notice that the cracks run a bit deeper this time,
the shadows a bit darker,
the eyes more red from sprung leaks and sleepless nights.
I find myself with bags I never bought and chuckle at my mother's face staring back in the mirror; there's a quiet realization that I never understood how she felt until now.
Because the cracks run deeper,
the shadows a bit darker,
the eyes more red and I can't help but wonder if I too should let this home crumble.
After all, at what point does a fixer-upper become a lemon,
nothing more than a void to pour money into even though it's not going to improve?
In this economy I suppose I ought to re-market it as not having cracks but character while telling potential buyers not to worry because the basement only floods when it's raining; but of course, this is Seattle, so you might as well just make a swimming pool.
The repainting, renovating, heart break only adds another pile of shattered glass to the corner I've got to clean up at some point but am too exhausted to because the cracks run deeper than I can handle,
the shadows darker than I can hide,
the eyes more red from sprung leaks and sleepless nights waiting for the wrecking ball to do its ******* job and level me.
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 11:29 AM UTC