"resumption" poems
175
I have never seen “Volcanoes”—
But, when Travellers tell
How those old—phlegmatic mountains
Usually so still—
Bear within—appalling Ordnance,
Fire, and smoke, and gun,
Taking Villages for breakfast,
And appalling Men—
If the stillness is Volcanic
In the human face
When upon a pain Titanic
Features keep their place—
If at length the smouldering anguish
Will not overcome—
And the palpitating Vineyard
In the dust, be thrown?
If some loving Antiquary,
On Resumption Morn,
Will not cry with joy “Pompeii”!
To the Hills return!
46.7k
You know things are dire
When you study the Internet and buy an air fryer
A material abduction
That comes in a large box with no instruction
You search in vain for something to cook
Struggling on YouTube, you make that look
Of someone lost in absolution consumption
No sense of normal behaviour resumption
With social top trump psychology
We debate 'extra crisp' technology
Creating new food mashups from hell
What comes out of the sliding drawer no-one can tell
After dehydrating decent food
You may find you need to do some good
Switch off that new fire
And bin your air fryer
Oct 11, 2022
Oct 11, 2022 at 5:04 PM UTC
I exist in his lower lip,
and upper teeth.
I exist in the way he used to say my name,
twisted and voluptuous.
I exist in the shade of his black curtains,
the last breathe of his cigarette,
and the slow sip of his drink.
I exist in the backseat of his car,
3 a.m sharp on his wrist watch,
and every knock on my bedroom door.
I exist in the sake of our past,
in every attempt of forgetting him without losing myself,
but I do not exist in his memory.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 6:23 AM UTC
“Why talk? If you do not listen to me?", he asked. He spoke to her in Kurdish, the language of her misty childhood memories. Simon had guessed, but did not know, could not know, how deeply she was speared by this simple statement, spoken flawlessly by a man she thought she knew. She ceased her melody, and as the chords faded away, so her warmth disappeared. Her eyes watered...cleared, darkened. Memories long buried, embalmed with religious care, rose again out of the shadows she had banished them to. "How dare you speak to me like that. Who do you think you are? How do you know my language, my childhood?"
"You talk in your sleep..."
She leaned forward and slapped her friend across the face. She knew there was something wrong with him, knew that there could be no such thing as unconditional companionship, as real altruism.
How stupid she was, how naïve to believe that she might have found someone who didn't want something from her, who didn't have a price.
Simon, who knew the alleyways and alcoves of the past like a lover knew his partner's body, should have been more concise. But it wasn't in his nature to approach personal history with spotlights and pragmatics. Ta'ra was accusing now, calling him hideous, a betrayer, one who steals sweet things in the dark from lack of courage. "It's not like that Ta'ra, not an ugly thing like you make it," he tried to explain. But she did not want to hear, did not want to listen as he tried to tell her how she cried in her sleep on the long drive from Cadiz, how Clara told him a little of their history together in Morocco. "So Clara told you so much did she? I should've known she'd pout to somebody as soon as she could, as soon as I wasn't listening! So what else does she tell you? What else does she say about me when I'm not around? Or do you do more than talk hmm?"
She was standing over him now, guitar abandoned like an orphan, her green sweater all askew. So close to him he could smell her. "It's not like that Ta'ra, she cares for you, wants the best for you, and I...I..." he trailed off. "You what? You fantasize about me, you put my face on those ****** you find in the bars and cafes?" She slapped him again, crying in earnest, and he knew that the choice now was his.
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 6:58 PM UTC
i.
A sapphire raceme, Symbolic dimples,
Radiciform, Ak-Shabreeze, consecrated;
Impeccable temple's.
ii.
None remembrance, of bygone vice,
Resumption of the new; perpetual
Life. Ramate by ourn rib's, sedated
By the paradisiacal.
iii.
Levitating toes, aloft the colored covenant,
O'er the bended bow, of God's plan's that
Art meant. We yaw the pleasant valley's,
We strum the lyre's of ahava; taking
Slowly to ourn peach rim's, desired
Coconut and guava.
iv.
Yealing's of another time, artist's of the
third peculiar mind, by the creator's
Design; finding another, amid the
Pearlescent hue.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( ahava) dedication
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
1497
Facts by our side are never sudden
Until they look around
And then they scare us like a spectre
Protruding from the Ground—
The height of our portentous Neighbor
We never know—
Till summoned to his recognition
By an Adieu—
Adieu for whence
The sage cannot conjecture
The bravest die
As ignorant of their resumption
As you or I—
1.1k
out of the window
heat merged in white
and there’s nothing I want
the world to supply
or take from me now
I’ve opened my eyes
she locks the door
and knows the way she’s moving
and we both know this is all
that’s keeping us from leaving
as we go down to the floor
(now I see, as it gets dark
and she’s away, I’m in the room,
there’s nothing here of what was then
except these facts I’ve placed in lines
and keeping hold of what we’ve had; and her return
and only that)
there’s nothing that I care for
but resumption of these feelings
and will throw the things I promised
far from any stretch of reason
and let them be discovered
by whoever wants to see them
burning
and broke open
as I listen to her breathing
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 2:30 PM UTC
I guess, I haven’t handled
complex operations, like
the removal of you,
before:
maybe that’s why I didn’t get it
right,
and now,
there are still suture stains,
scalpel tips,
leaf litter,
floating amongst my workings,
etched with your syllables.
I suppose I’d thought of
what I’d say,
if you said “come back, please?”:
if I could, no.
most likely an uncertain shrug,
before resumption,
again, following each of your tender footprints.
but, no. definitively, no.
sure enough as the sun eventually slips,
I’ll find another shadow to drag across my aching heart,
no matter how your remnants last,
stinging, to remind me,
of what I had once wanted.
another quiet song I shall sing,
this one, upon newer ears.
hopefully, not another deaf set.
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 3:20 AM UTC
flags
replicating and encroaching
sharpened green swords
monotonous and marching
poisons and a secret
carefully concealing
awaiting annual signal
when spring approves
only briefest revelation
veritable explosion of
glory
simultaneously approving
quick resumption of
marching
May 11, 2012
May 11, 2012 at 10:15 PM UTC
Osirus showed me things
Only some can dream
All the oceans
All the streams
Travel through the trees
Give me an answer
Why don't you believe?
Married to consumption
Material
Could it be presumption
Or resumption
Deja vue
Corruption
a place
Much different
Unrefined
Someone make a difference
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 4:21 PM UTC
The grinning man, informing me that I taste like candy,
The ripped bag of candy, purchased yesterday from store number four of our search,
The ancient truck, packed already with what remains of ten weeks,
The bruises, displayed proudly for fifteen more hours,
The eight o’clock train, rattling my kitchen window,
The last pink sunset, the ending of our life, the resumption of his and of mine.
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 5:22 PM UTC
In a doctrine of compassion.
My great heart was ended.
Golden soul on a flaxen hair.
My soul.
Myself defended!
Friends of such importance.
Should not go on defence.
Anger bit like demon seed.
She now sits on the fence.
And hand of truth extended.
Contact needs resumption.
Well said from you my friend.
Without such rash presumption.
Presumption was destructive.
Caused a drowning pool.
The fiery tongues did lash.
Between us two..hell on earth a mighty clash.
Two pens determined to ****
No malice aforethought.
Never ever will!
I forgive thee as thee forgave me.
Thank you for your poem.
My friend.
Always to be!
Dear friend!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 12:11 PM UTC
While meditating earlier today,
a flashback leapt
clear for me to assay,
those ever receding
early boyhood daze,
now subsumed within fifty,
plus nine shades of gray
blissfully innocent naivety,
(though blessed) no way
would, aye desire to turn back
the hands of father time (hypothetically),
where unstructured play
regularly with older sister
(thirteen plus months
my senior) predominantly
slicing, sliding, and slipping
stockinged feet skittering
across slippery basement floor,
this then soul full
skinny thing bellowed hooray.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I'm Matty Mattel; I got hurt;
Can you go out?"
Those words uttered
by the very first
pull-string talking doll
Mattel did tout
circa nineteen sixty
revolutionizing the birth
of quasi simulated (lifelike) toys,
and made of common
materials found scout
ting around the house simply comprising
hard vinyl (i.e. pseudo
plaster of Paris) head he did flout
with remaining body
stuffed with padding,
a definite no
no (chew toy) when Fido about.
Actually that pooch,
would be Georgie to you,
(a hybrid Boxer Dalmatian)
with docked tail
my young parents acquired,
when as a newborn,
aye did inconsolably wail
though recollection of such memory
fifty nine years ago tis of no avail
yet, a resumption of meditation,
sans lightness of being
(analogous trancelike state),
that doth prevail
replaying silent film preceding,
when psyche seem so frail
plummeting into emotional abyss
the nadir i.e. anorexia nervosa
pleading return to nostalgic boyhood
decrying change hide didst bewail!
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 1:30 AM UTC
We all used to be cannibals.
We tore flesh with our mandibles.
Times were hard for neanderthals.
Kinda men but still animals.
Did we still mourn those that were gone
as we were gnawing on the bone?
Behold the upright hairless dawn,
the greatest beasts this world has known.
Even back then, it took gumption
to prep beloved for consumption.
Grief gave pause, but safe assumption,
hunger led to feast's resumption.
Fast forward to the present day,
the greatest beasts still have their way.
As in that ancient yesterday,
upon the weak and ill they prey.
It's dog-eat-dog. Life's a mother,
til beneath the dirt we smother.
We're all cannibals, my brother-
feeding off of one another.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
Yet, to affirm...
With a realm to sake, biding...
Boding a habit, of creating a sojourn
To a peaceful cause, in the shape of destiny, earns adding?
Within the wait of redemption, a droll season
Has sat and noticed me, in a privileges smile...
The land has it to yearn, for a future to wind and remain?
In a stoic refrain, we mention to any's fate, all the while:
Curious beginnings
With a reach for any who would
The salt of a shared stipulation, semblance of endings...?
That become the inheritance of now, the house of all and good?
Awakening at their appointed hour:
Our suggestion, our intimation...
Of cope, and a colloquial prayer, set to dour
Music? and the integrity of a world's forces of generations?
A prayer that turned into a defiant star...
Welcoming the here, the intellect of perception
Where we were, where distances of courage stare far
The need of silence and its prodigy, with a blind intuition...?
All of heed, a God warming to us...
We know this, with a remnant eye
The tarry of promises, to question even simplicity, thus
Nature with a conscience's vote, a role of integrity to lie?
Upon a bed of dignity, an answer for anarchy...
Worth in a worlds share, have we finished the patience's of peace?
Or the resumption of a halt to harrow, a hell in the name of what was merry...?
Times, the court of siblings with a deed for you, adrenaline is living's feast...
May 3, 2025
May 3, 2025 at 1:37 PM UTC
We all used to be cannibals.
We tore flesh with our mandibles.
Times were hard for neanderthals.
Kinda men but still animals.
Did we still mourn those that were gone
as we were gnawing on the bone?
Behold the upright hairless dawn,
the greatest beasts this world has known.
Even back then, it took gumption
to prep beloved for consumption.
Grief gave pause, but safe assumption,
hunger led to feast's resumption.
Fast forward to the present day,
the greatest beasts still have their way.
As in that ancient yesterday,
upon the weak and ill they prey.
It's dog-eat-dog. Life's a mother,
til beneath the dirt we smother.
We're all cannibals, my brother-
feeding off of one another.
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 3:00 AM UTC
I will never stand in the way
of who you want to be,
but if this is it,
I want to be free.
my heart cannot take anymore,
it is being pummelled from all sides.
but from you?
I can’t tell the truth from the lies.
you tell me I matter,
that you care,
that the only thing you want is that feeling - there -
caught in the moonlight,
wrapped in each other’s arms,
I fool myself in to believing
that this is what I want.
your love isn’t broken,
it’s simply on pause,
and I fear its resumption,
for I will be gone.
I can’t sneak round in shadows,
nor stand by your back,
while you **** me in secret,
and snort strangers’ crack.
don’t tell me you want me,
then take it back,
over and over,
because I think I have cracked.
my head is soup,
left on the boil.
my body is dead foliage,
rotting under the soil.
Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 11:28 AM UTC