"retread" poems
Once again,
as I retread over
the fragments of your
literary beauty.
You write in the most potent essence of
our connection embodied.
I am so ever ensnared by the rhythm
that your words play on my heart strings.
Especially, now
In this time where I am so desperately in need;
of just
a small dose of affection
trace your fingers on my lips gently
for if you play my pulse
like you do that guitar
my soul will sing to yours
through my heart beats
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
They came without vision
None questioned their skills
They took a big lead
Then promply got killed
New England was battered
New England was bruised
Atlanta was lunching
And quickly got schooled
The halftime explicits
They blistered the walls
The bigger the lead
The harder they fall
Tom Brady's the gravy
In Belichick's cup
Coach built a big fire
And heated him up
There were some deep passes
Some ***** and some dunks
The hell of it is
It was done without Gronk
That tightend of legend
Who sat in the wings
While wiley Tom Brady
Conducted the thing
It's all big in Texas
Including that game
The hype, the excitement
For Atlanta, the shame
We heard them complaining
We saw them give in
With Julio to lead them
They still couldn't win
But, there is good news
If it wasn't from chocking
They stumble this fall
Then it must be bad coaching
In twenty-eighteen, we'll fire the staff
And bring in some retread
For minimum cash
He'll get the ball rolling
We'll win it, for sure
Or, ole Mr Ryan
We're showing the door
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 7:52 PM UTC
If I laid with someone else tonight
I'd know in my heart it wouldn't feel right
My heart is yours, tried to take it back
Now I see it doesn't work like that
I'm not lonely- I just want you
But you don't want me, what's a girl to do?
Keep kicking myself for the things that I've done
Pushing you away, making you run
Far from hurtful words I said
Wish I could turn back time and retread
The tires worn from our relationship
Unfixable problems, no way to mend it
At least that's what you keep telling me
"We're better separate, not as a we"
But then why can't I seem to shake this feeling?
Struck by true love, no cure for healing
A broken heart, with broken parts
Millions of pieces falling apart
Picking them up one by one
Only to find more and more and then some
Left all alone, but I'm not afraid
Because you'll always be in my heart and forever on my brain
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
i govern an idling heart
doomingly glazey
won't lift a care but won't swat no fly either
maintains functional with the safety hitched on
observes the public goings and fro-ings
without discrimination
but offers no service
no aid
and no addition
docile and folded and dormant of view
in a world-scape kniving to be brighter
more memorable and avidly self dominant
i am a skiving witness
the older i get the more this approach
is not an easy one
i observe a neighbour bully about his kids
using jest rewards between shouting them to heel
and cuffing them violent
i observe a lady place her friend
with a simple remark
('i like your choker.. it's like something i wore as a child
it's nice to remember that')
i observe war retread on the screen
i observe a couple secretly kiss and brush fingers.
human spoil seen now ;
it draws pity, pain and longing
i am not devoid
despite much practice
some involvement on my part
may be due
Mar 23, 2022
Mar 23, 2022 at 6:10 PM UTC
The night sits heavy on us all
As the well dressed persons leave the ball
There seems to be joyous celebration in the air
And a moment's silence they cannot bear
The ruckus floats away through the night sky
Tonight ain't a night of goodbyes
The pristine eyes now filled with lust
Inhibitions are lost, found is inebriated trust
Numbers exchanged among mostly glances
The night fondly reminisced, retread the dances
Some leave with friends, others with strangers
Forgotten are the daily fears and dangers
And yet the night sits heavy on us all
As life suddenly slows down to a crawl
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
This pain is deep and retread with horror.
This pain has lived with me my whole life.
This pain makes me cry out for honor.
This pain relieves my sorrow.
This torture makes my life who i am.
This torture decides my fate.
This torture can manipulate who i am.
This torture will leave me in the state.
I am the one who destroyed others.
I am the one who made peoples lives hell.
I am the one who manipulated others.
I left you with my only will.
I'm here today to confess my anger.
I'm here today to confess my sins.
I'm here today to stop the horrid lives.
I'm here today to make amends.
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 12:10 AM UTC
This Wallow Pad of the Ground
Is my Nesting Place
For the Riddle of my Fault Lines
My Skin is Held
Rag Drum to my Hacked up Face
This New-new me is
The Result of a Peculiarity
Events Resulting in Butchery
My Time Remains Expanding
A Warm Spool
A New Slumberless Spill of Years
All this Time
To Study this Horizon of Footfalls
Or
Instead
To Retreat to my Summary Report
That is Now the Retread of my Drying Mind.
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 1:28 AM UTC
In halls of dust-speckled relics
In labyrinths filled with prehistory
There is a room where scarabs still creep
Where the Great Pharaoh forever sleeps
Books of the Dead are affixed to the walls
Ankhs are clutched tightly by sculpted Gods
There is a room where mysticism yet seeps
Where the Great Pharaoh forever sleeps
Watchful falcons seem to soar overhead
The Sands of Time are forced to retread
There is a room where one body lays deep
Where the Great Pharaoh ends an eternal sleep
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
Things are changing for me, although the seasons this year seemed to not have.
The city of New Orleans will soon have my heart wandering in her streets, and I'll be miles away trying to determine where they lead.
My mistakes are catching up with me and I'll be forced to face the consequences I once always seemed to retread from.
I'm unsure of which the way the wind is blowing, I could never use my thumb to tell,
but I hope it's in the uplifting direction,
dancing in women's skirts, playing leap frog with the leaves, rolling through the sails of some small ship floating out at sea, humming in the giant chimes of city park's oak tree.
I just hope that when you leave, you take the wind inside my soul and carry it into spring.
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 2:04 AM UTC
Lost Words©
It was only later
After seeing him hooked up to a ventilator
That I realized what he had said
And a reflection came that I would later retread
For deep down inside I always knew
That my dad was there for me as I grew
He was harsh and intense on occasion
Some would even call it abrasion
But there was that other side
When we were alone me along for the ride
He did his duty as a father
Bringing home the bacon with little bother
But the lessons taught
Were what I bought
How to strive
To stay alive
To be the best I can be
For all to see
Have kindness for my fellow man
Help wherever I can
Be a father to a son
Be there to protect everyone
Give a care
If you dare
That tomorrow will be a better day
When you get ego out of the way
As I sit here to lament
I recall those lost words he had repent
After waiting all those long years
And though he is long gone they still bring me tears
Those lost words you ask “I love you…”
Andreas Simic©
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 9:39 AM UTC
Has a petrol-head called Clarkson
run out of speedy road to park on?
Because of his late meal,
his producer got a weal.
Now his fans wail: “Oh Dear!
It’s a dead end for “TOP GEAR.”
Seems the wheels have come off
for this brazen non-PC toff.
Is it the end of the ride
for Chipping Norton’s pride
and no clear Right of Way
for chums Hammond and May?
No sensible man would scupper,
his own TV slot for a cold supper.
Yet there’s alpha males who dread,
TOP GEAR’S due for a feminist retread.
Go girls! Vroom! Vroom! Time for you instead.
TOBIAS
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 8:52 AM UTC