"reverting" poems
I was
once potent, now soft
then twisted suddenly
like a baby thrown aloft
"Pull!"
and then shot
bad habits, tendencies
thinking about money
when I haven't got a lot
I used to think I was
pretty good looking
but
my self esteem took a knock
life is about finding your rock
I am
scarred, dangerous
and outright harmless
when I'm stressed out
my love turns me to calmness
overrated like chrome
a blade lacking in sharpness
turning away from peace
and reverting to the darkness
never liked change
always afraid of taking chances
thought I needed help
but I guess that I'm past it
looking for a home because
I was told it's where the heart is
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 2:22 PM UTC
The little voice inside of you
Directing decision
Trapped
Unable to envision
Success
In rapid succession
Reverting
In sudden regression
Sewing shut
Your mind's eye
Blame your loss of contact
Contact with me
The romantic deviant
Your love is beautiful
With all it's conditions
Scolding the masses
For their mental carbon emissions
Unpopular
Is an understatement
What do you expect
Pushing for a decision
When there is no answer
Jan 1, 2011
Jan 1, 2011 at 2:19 PM UTC
Running away from her feelings
Don't want no hurt
Don't want inspiration
They only subvert
Her poor fragile heart
She gives her all
Gets smithereens in return
Don't want no broken dreams
Don't want empty hopes
Don't want those sleepless nights
It's a periscope
Couldn't see it before
Now she knows
She's a shell of the old her
No signs of reverting
Built walls around her heart so high,
The heavens are confronting
It's comforting
This deserting
Feeling of the heart
No one's gonna break me
She says asserting
No one's gonna hurt me
Her lips reverberating
Eyes full of misery
Her loneliness shines through
Captivating silver eyes
Moist with morning dew
Or are those tears?
Taking a hue
Of molten silver
Or the dark stormy nights
They've witnessed all along
When they all eschewed
When they all ran away
Well, adieu
They don't deserve her anyway
Don't deserve her beautiful soul
Don't deserve her unconditional love
Or the compassion she holds
Her blinding bright smile
Or the twinkle of her eyes
The softness of her lips
She exists to mesmerize
So, adieu
Because she's a fighter
An igniter
Of the passion he holds
Adieu
He says thankyou
Because she's a queen
And all his to love
Oh if you only knew.
~S.L.
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 6:14 AM UTC
''A few words of my soul to my heart''
O' Jamil what you seek is a sea of love and not tiny streams
Waves of which will carry you to mystic craved dreams
You will need the light of Shams⒈, a heart of Rumi⒉ the great
And eyes of Iqbal⒊ to explore the love of divine that await
O' Jamil be prepared to sink deep below in waters of love
There is no reverting back thereafter to the world above
You will fade away as small particles in this sacred sea
Only then you will be intoxicated with essence of thee
✑
Notes:-
⒈ Shams, Shams-e-Tabrizi or Shams Al-Din Mohammad was a Iranian Sufi, mystic born in the city of Tabriz in Iranian Azerbaijan.
⒉ Jalal Ad-Din Muḥammad Balkhi also known as Jalal Ad-Din Muḥammad Rumi and popularly known as Mowlana but known to the English-speaking world simply as Rumi, he was a 13th-century Persian poet, jurist, theologian, and Sufi mystic.
⒊ Sir Muhammad Iqbal was a Persian and Urdu poet of Pakistan, philosopher and a politician who had great visions for humanity.
✒ ℐamil Hussain
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
All the world's a *********
And all the lads and ladettes mere defecators,
Gratifying oozing exits and entrances;
And one man perforce enacts too many roles,
His acts being seven deaths. D'abord, the baby,
******** and ******* on his mummy's frock.
Then, the errant truant with his rucksack
And pock-marked wanker's face, creeping like death
Foul-trouser'dly to school. Next a teenager,
Panting like mad dog, with an oozing pustule
Dripping oe'r his girlfriend's pubics. Then a hoodie,
Full of strange oaths, and dressed up like a freak,
Lacking in honour, decency, and up for aggro,
Seeking the respect of loathsome peers
Even on the street corner. And then the adult
With bulging beer belly, and ample burgers stuff'd,
With eyes dulled by unfulfilled promises,
Mortgaged to the hilt, and indebted to Visa,
And so he wastes his life. The sixth age dawns
Before he knows it, bald futility,
With ****** in pocket, five quid a pill,
His youthful hopes well fuck'd, the world too much
For his ignorance, and his vain butch rantings
Reverting soon to teenage curses, coughs
And tobacco'd wheezings. Last we see him,
Ending a pointless and useless existence,
Clutching to his piss-stained Zimmer frame,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans pension fund.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC
To dream a dream
That is hard to forget
In the mist of clouds
It disappears like a sunset
Ebbing away with clarity
Reverting in my desperate mind
Like it's a mere charity.
Oh the beautiful dreams aren't true
Knowing them is better than having no clue
The subconscience is an inconspicuous beauty
Like the roots of the tree
Entangled and buried beneath
Its beauty is hidden
Its thoughts forgotten.
To dream a dream
Is finding your love
Then losing it soon
It's the inward eye's beauty
So beautiful, so resplendent,
When you wake up, you soon swoon.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 6:12 AM UTC
i’m sitting with my friend
we talk about our relationships
the ones that could’ve been
i’m tired of the what if’s
knowing that we did them
she tells me she tried
but it always circled
back around to the same ol’ sound
the sound of the hearts’ pound
thinking that this is what it’s about
loving someone so much
it makes you sad
to see another happy
it makes you sad that you can’t
you can’t open that door
to another
instead you’d rather keep trying
with that one who left you whining
whining that he forgot your birthday
and whining that he won’t kiss you
because you wouldn’t give him head
we sit and talk about all these times
reverting back to the trials
the trials that we went through
so many times
but every time we fell…
we fell right back to the floor
the one they always put us on.
they were the ones who picked us back up
they’re the ones who never left
they’re the ones who always tried for us
but they never found us
so we sit here on these chairs
acting like we talk about hair
but in reality all we can think
- did we really try?
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
LIVING IN A WILDERNESS
October 2, 2009 – Damascus, Syria
Ayad Gharbawi
I see my eyes
Reverting
Bulging inwards
Yet, speaking outside
Of shrill fears
Feeling hues and nuances indefinable
Lovely contrasts
Jagged emotions,
Acres of mutilated humans
Serrated teeth
Severing carotid veins
Jugular explosions
Blood frothing inside
Mine mind
That throws itself
Weeping far too low
On this strangled ground
Near my skin
Far too many times
I’ve felt, seen, experienced blazing humiliations
Searing slicing fear
That I can never ever
Describe to you
And so
I’m writing for no one
I know
Listen to these skeletal notes
Being played out
Manic piano loving my drunk guitar
Producing acoustic screams
Hurling within
My hatreds
That need to prop my reason of d‘etre
Isn’t that language
Being expressed
Spouted out
Created forth frothing from these experiences
That are harrowing?
Jan 28, 2010
Jan 28, 2010 at 8:06 AM UTC
there's something about sadness,
that's just so comforting.
and something about madness,
that's just so safe.
and i'm not sure why
but my mind has been poisoned
by negativity and resentment.
The flood of emotion
that drowns me in my sorrows
is a crutch and a curse
and every instance
is a reason to feel hatred
and sadness and rebellion.
it's hard to stay sane
when everything
and everyone
changes almost instantly
and consistency is foreign.
my lack of faith
comes from my overwhelming
fear of being left alone and cold
so i find safety in solitude
and i find comfort
in feeling nothing at all.
maybe this is why
everything i write sounds the same
and everything i conjure up
all ends up reverting back
to what once was
and why lines reused
is just my way of clinging
to the only amount of
consistency i can control.
i have never been one
to tell how i feel
or speak of my past
that is buried beneath
the wings i haven't yet
used to fly away from here
because i fear,
happiness
just like sadness
and every other emotion
for that matter
is just a crazy,
illusion
that leaves the bruises
in my mind
and the scars
on my wrist
because finding an outlet,
that gives you what you need
is almost as rare as
someone understanding you.
and the blood spilling from your veins
is temporary,
the love leaving your lips
is temporary
which is why
in life you will always
somehow, someway
be secondary.
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
the flag of my country is rippling in perfect rythym with the sounds of this place i love to call my home <3 the sky is covered in clouds; the sun's nothing but a faded glow (24 dec 09)
fading in & out of rational thought; awareness is strong but wavering. theres so much weighted on my brain, a light but steady pressure.. (31 oct 10)
dimensions of colored fragments reflectiong off of every shard of light in every molecule of every single thing.. (8 nov 10)
disillusionment has become reality, while mere reality has become illusion.. break the mold, fight for your freedom to love! (8 nov 10)
the seed of evil is planted in every living creature; whether or not it is watered is a choice (21 nov 10)
once independent, now codependent on you.. when you're not around i dont know what to do (8 dec 10)
losing fruition; fading to gray.. nothing to grasp but a dull reality. don't even recognize myself anymore. emotionless (1 dec 10)
the times i'd most like to take an eraser to my brain, i find there are already marks engraved too deep (31 dec 10)
reverting back from end to beginning.. lets see how this one pans out (20 feb 11)
synchronized breathing; drifting into unconciousness, enveloped by thoughts.. dreams become reality while reality fades to grey (11 mar 11)
as time goes on, familiar faces blend into this sea of blank stares and empty hearts (8 apr 11)
like the glass which holds the world beyond the mirror, the veil of my world is about to shatter and be exposed (27 dec 11)
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 3:11 PM UTC
She is Moonshine...
Harvest moon, radiant blast across the horizon
diminishing anything near the sound of her light
taunting us with the threat of reverting to a simple, normal
part of our world if we look too late or move too close.
She is Moonshine
Full moon, raising werewolves and iconic myths
making day of the darkness and drawing
florescent strokes across every able bodied pond
waving boldly coming too in due cycle
She is Moonshine...
Shiva moon, a promise and goodbye
deadly waxing and waning of war and peace
the confidently ignored reminder of our mortality
veiled carelessly by translucent clouds
She is Moonshine...
Day time moon, pale and out of place
whimsically demanding to be seen
unafraid of the brightest sun or the bluest mood
a broad daylight
She is Moonshine...
To drink, clear, forbidden and dangerous
Intoxicating, even in small portions
Promising to burn you from throat to belly
And warm your bowels through the coldest doubts
She is Moonshine.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
Electron herders,
that's us. It began
earnestly late 20th century.
The first organic computers
using polymerase and ADP
came later. Weaponry
via numbers, words
magically appearing,
telepathy. Measurements
in which the last significant digit
is the Other. However
immediately depleted
our resources were,
antibiotics were always at the ready.
Forgetting what we knew,
reverting to austerity
because in times of prosperity
we forgot to be austere.
It's the uncertainty principle
taken to the nth degree
where the bad god resides,
Zeus, passionate, confused, obtuse.
Yes, we are electron herders
matter gatherers and shapers
of our time. Cancerous
cysts, irrational exuberance,
collective experience, experiments
gone well or wrong,
we were trying all along
to last forever. Flood and fire
saw to that.
Prospero was our answer
who threw his book
into the sea and wanted to be
mortal, meditative.
Find himself. We found
the world without the self
cornus to oxalis
orbitals and calculus
waves and particles
equally likely to be
within us as without us.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
For Sia
wake up unscrubbed,
sleep still in the eyes,
dream crusted,
probably unaware, child,
that you are a poem
sleeping
when a little girl,
reverting, designing
real from dreams,
processing, reforming,
the dreams lusting
to be poems
to go awandering
no wonder you have
more first names
than the rest of the world
combined
who you gonna be
this day?
undecided?
a new name adopted?
why not...
did you think I didn't notice?
the degree of yours ungranted,
I favor most is the one
you
never take
unless given
but always only
offer all:
friend
escapade thy 'they' thru
their assorted flavors,
nose rings, tongue piercings,
take 'em all, on the train ride to
see Sia run
see Sia play
see Sia read
see Sia lead
her troupe known only to me as the
Sherwood Forest Baker Street Irregulars
on adventures all over the U.K.
someday you will get a degree
from Peter Pan in
all grown-up-ness,
settling down,
but I surely hope not,
for I will then be sadder,
way sadder than I am
even now,
a different generation man,
when
forgone, missing,
the little dream crusted girl
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
Reverting back to my teenaged years
I pressed a razor into my thigh
I liked the way the blood
Mixed with the raspberry & vanilla
Suds in the bathtub
To make this ombré
Of maroon fading
To peach
My brain's been itchy
For weeks
I am overwhelmed
And imaginaing
The bathtub
With no bottom
Drowning
In a ceramic hole
That leads nowhere
My body
Wrapped
In
Raspberry
And Vanilla
Soap suds,
And my hair
Wet
And long
Between my
Shoulder blades
I wanna be
As pretty
As the ocean,
A perfect shade
Of baby blue,
With navy
And purple
Accents
In the deepest
Spaces
And I wanna be
Just as infinite
As the ocean,
Incomprehensible
To the modern
Human mind,
Everlasting
& Impossible
Went to take a bath
In a room with no windows
Disappeared
Without a trace
And no one will ever know
The bottom is an illusion
There is so much more
Beneath,
To dive in
Or die in
my mind
UNRAVELS
and lands here
At the brink
Of reality
And delusion
And I stay here
Because it's easy
And it's kinda silly
And no one is angry,
Not even me
But eventually
The water
Runs cold
And I start to feel
My
Heart beat
In my finger tips
And as I take the trip
Back to my body
I dread the dizziness
I know is waiting
On the other side
Cause I cut too deep
And now I have to
Explain myself
In the back of
An ambulance
And,
And,
And,
"Morgan,
Aren't you too
******* old for this?"
Oh,
How I'm homesick
Homesick
Inside of myself
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 1:19 AM UTC
I find myself far gone, drifting alongside the beach
of some nubian kingdom
A sharp inhale of starlight and cutting holes
of awe,
she's there for me.
but,
Not in presence,
Red clouds limping through my comfort,
keeping me safe
far far off, in its tempered perfection.
Writing my fiction, one word at time,
biting into my rotten ear,
cracked surfaces of
sugar lined castle spires
pointing downwards,
In the paradox named perception.
Release!
Stretched out in our isolation.
yet I'm alone, becoming longer,
wandering,
raiding into an artificial night
Where no time appears to pass.
Encroaching on the expectation.
for food,
be it wanted or difficult,
for lips, ink nor illness.
The coast brings in
an ease that I drink from,
when dilly-dallying,
along the mad irreverence
of a random bed that you dream of
each time you wake,
each time you sleep,
There is no content in your bed sheets.
Spiralling in and out of information infection,
Oh how? Oh how can I sleep,
when I stand with my back to space?
Splaying limbs as they exert
the last beams of recklessness
- reverting to old habits,
obsession with erratics,
no form and no care.
Riddled with a chaotic mop head of stringed stupid.
How cute.
Juiced from his tender prospects,
intent on separation
entering use
**** bored and loose
Frothy white moaning flow,
tenderly crushing
Contingency.
I avoid moving inland,
for fear of peace of mind
Combing the canal with the brisk
jaunt of my limping legs,
unsure of themselves
in amidst,
the warmest blanket on the coldest day.
An old kingdom,
founded on consumption,
tradition and extraction.
We keep our distance,
I keep my distance.
Cold water minces around my feet.
Pith/Medulla.
Falling to earth,
beneath the sedge.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
It is a bright new morning
You settle your feet on the cold marble
Freshly refurbished,
A mirror to the light
An inverted world reflecting in your eyes.
The chill from the polished floor
Infusing through your bones
Reverting you back to yesterday
Remembering it,
As a carpeted foundation
That tickles your skin,
With flocculent strokes
At an instant,
You pull back your feet
And latch onto the memory
Of yesterday
This moment,
Now,
Is a clean gleaming slate
An unmarked palette for today
For you,
To scratch the surface and stride across
Carve new tales,
To make another,
yesterday
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
Two taken three with one left behind.
But behind was were learning and understanding abide.
Lost in the fur and silky escape.
I lied like a beast and frowned upon hate.
But deep in my heart it exists like a thistle.
Ready to stab and **** with a whistle.
He hastened to three and then four five and six.
He's a crafty one, I love him like thiiiiiiiiiiis much :3
Attune, attune the piano had played.
His first crush, his first love resounding of farewell bade.
How could he do it, lie like a ******
At first he pretended it was just a typo.
Lust became love
became understanding
became cunning.
From that cunning I was born, knight in white shining.
This process demoralized and impaled him on a spike.
The sociopath was here, and boy was he excited.
More love, more *** more destruction and death.
Noone will be spared from the pain I'll inflict.
I'm a cure to your idiocy
No way are you this stupid!
I can't cure you even with cupid
So farewell and find another person whos stupid
Live stupidly ever after.
Calling my name.
I'm the greatest you'll remember.
I'm a hateful scoundrel that plays in ****** mud.
A calm. A feeling unlike others. A goddess in white. Slit wrists, slit arms, slit thighs. But can you read me?
"Yes."
The impact and embarressment Oh my! I never thought I'd meet me here!
But can you clamber in me with my shell?
"Yes."
That's when I when I became flustered.
I lie, I cheat, I steal, I hurt. I break into hearts and rip out the girth.
Why are you here.
Why am I here.
The two are connected, lets find out how.
Two became two then two became one.
Death at his doorstep and me in the cage.
Solemn and waiting and believing as a sage.
Waiting. Waiting. Doubting. Hating. I revert, I go back on reverting.
I revert over and over and back again. Just what am I?
I'm nothing.
I'm nothing without another. So 8 months pass.. and so comes another. Another liar
Another fighter
Another lover
Another.
I fake. I hurt. I steal. I ****
And with that, My life summed up.
So recent.. It happened. A new reason to live. I only wish I could tear out my memories. I only wish those two dead people would be happy. I wish I had never been conceived out of pain. I am a tool to deal with this, a broken dismembered tool. They shouldn't be like me, I'm a one hit wonder. A lovestruck sociopath.
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 2:37 AM UTC
Ersatz coffee, chicory and dandelion,
a dream of self sufficiency
the town has regained its prominence
reverting to old style timber
chevaux de bois,
a smithy as new
as time unfolding,
the spaces between buildings
allowing the sun to divine down
sentimentality decked on back- stools,
speckled sepia blossoming
a petite fleur coronation crown
becomes renewed strangers.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 4:30 PM UTC
Reverting to old behaviors.
I showed you my soul, you showed me yours.
Revealing my truths was not a simple task,
And what I'm afraid of is that it won't last.
Nothing is simple these days
And I can't quite get a grip to come out of this haze.
Before now it was just a phase.
I was just in a daze.
The rain is starting to fall now
The clouds grow dark
You definitely had made your mark;
For now when the dark clouds grow,
I should think you know my sentiments
as the Lightning flashes in my eyes
The thunder rolls in
And the tears become similar to those droplets falling from the skies.
My soul breaths in deep for the first time as I again become one
With the storm
It's what I am
A mess, no longer in the eye of the storm.
Fall storms it's what I'll become accustomed to.
It's something totally new.
As you and I find once again the distance in the sky.
I can't help wonder why.
The storm continues to roll on-
Will I ever once again be in the eye?
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC
Like someone hit a baseball into your throat,
as it travels slow like molasses down the esophagus.
Then it just lurks in there for a while,
until it reaches your stomach
And once it's there, it remains.
It grows long spikes,
and longer those grow,
then they churn in the basket of your tummy.
Ripping apart each entity while it resides.
Eventually it vacates,
only to lurch back into your system,
reverting back to old ways.
It poisons your thoughts;
it fills your head,
and it expands until you blow up on someone.
That's about how it feels.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
crawling centipedes
spiders scurry silently
basement bug barrage
silverfish slithering so,
reverting fearfully back
awful arthropods
disgusting diplopoda
infamous insects
holes in the ground, walls and floor
inhumane habitation
pesky perspective
look at things my way, big sir
seek shadowed shelters
horrifying is my name
scaring people is my game
big shoes, enemy!
fear me? unreasonable
boneless body crushed
ironic scare, you not me
exoskeleton demise
now you see me, now you don't
until next time my good friend
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 3:50 PM UTC
The waves never gave up even if the shore is reverting them back....
The rain never gave up even if it's sewed into the gutter,
The clouds never gave up even after knowing that the bond of their cluster is going to be detached after few moments,
The land never gave up even if it's ,stomped,ploughed,drilled,bombarded and excavated by billions...
The air never gave up even if it is ****** with negative intentions,
The sun never gave up,even if it's burning in itself every moment,
The earth never gave up even if it's revolving continuously even without a momentarily detention...
When these profound lives never gave up,
Why should I give up something for someone who doesn't care about me...
I care for someone deeply because I have not only developed emotional bond with them but the deeper spiritual bond,
The bond of the spirit is much more stronger than the bond of blood..
This is the bond that makes me to care for them even if they don't exist right before me,
even if they don't care for me.....
I am indifferent to the life which doesn't care for me...
I give up my life for someone who cares about me....
and I care for everyone just not only the one who cares about me...
But a fruitful relationship evolves with someone who cares about me....
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
As I watched the colors dance across my bedroom floor and slowly begin to change from light to dark while reverting back to dark to light. I couldn't help but reminisce about the days that pasted, they still seemed so vivid and alive as though playing on a projection screen across my walls of the love we once shared. So full of promise that filled with deep intellectual talks about life. As I search my mind for faults of how it all ended, I find myself in a daze. So dumbfounded by these events? Somewhere along the line I feel as if I've misread all signals or was I too much? Or not enough?
As I watched the colors dance across my bedroom floor and slowly begin to change from light to dark. I feel so alone with these crazed thoughts, how they've engulfed me and begun to strangle me. It's now that I'm second guessing every moment of every memory of the love we shared. How foolish and weak you've made me?
As I watched the colors dance across my bedroom floor and slowly begin to change from dark to darker. I start to play back messages and it's then there's one that sticks out clear in my mind that you once said and its that I'd never be yours! With this realization, it begins to click, how silly of me to think otherwise, that I could change one's mind. When they've made it so clear in the first place and they've made up theirs. It's me who has it twisted with all these emotions. Thinking I could have, what's not mine and thinking too much.
As I watched the colors dance across my bedroom floor slowly begin to change from darker to darkness. I've come to the conclusion all those shares moments of talk and lust, which in fact, were moments and never more. I was never going to be yours and you were never going to be mine. No matter what I felt or believed to be right. You were already gone before you could actually fall in love or feel something. Or was it suppose to be me that falls?
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 12:26 AM UTC