"reworking" poems
I was born on November 30th , I hear that makes me a Saggitarius.
I dunno what that means.
I know how to swim, and I'm a sucker for a guy with a nice smile
And nice words.
I'm still learning how to whisper sweet nothings
I'm often loud at times when I should be quiet
I'm often quiet at times when I should be loud
I keep holding back or letting it all out at the wrong time.
I like sweet drinks... a lot.
I've been told that I give pretty bad hugs
People say that it feels like I'm trying to escape
Well I don't like letting people close.
Especially close enough to hear me breathe.
I have this odd fascination with things like time machines and technology,
I assume it's because I like to figure out how things work and fix them.
Am the same way with people, like to know what's coming before it does.
Love usually lasts a few moments,
That's also why I tend to fall in love with men
Who would never love me back
I know it sounds crazy, but it's actually much saner than it seems
And to be honest, I think it's safer that way
See relationships, they often remind me that I'm not afraid of letting go.
But I'm scared of what's gonna happen
The moment that my body hits the ground
I'm clumsy. I usually trip when am following my feelings.
I landed on my pride and it shattered like a mirror i check daily.
Now I can't even tell who's trying to give me a compliment
or just trying to get into my pants.
I've never been into martial arts but I have all these bruises,
I got from beating myself up over things I can't fix
I know it sounds weird but sometimes,
I wonder what the voices in my head say when am asleep.
I wonder what the doors would do if they found out
About all the things that I've done when they are closed.
I've got a trash can that's overflowing with really, really obnoxious mistakes
And a dump site in my closet with all the skeletons.
You'll trap me in a corner and insist I get help.
Hi, my name is Em,
I enjoy ice cream and yoghurt, people watching
And figuring out how to make them work.
I allow myself to cry more than I need to,
from letting all the wrong people in.
I have solar-powered energy, I have a battery-operated heart,
It flickers and dies from overuse.
My hobbies include rewriting my life story, hiding behind poems,
And trying to convince myself that I do matter to someone.
I don't know much, but I do know this
I know that if you don't have standards,
you won't be treated right and be happy.
I know God is still reworking my faults and flaws,
I'm a unique work in progress.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 6:15 AM UTC
I need you. You have invaded my heart
like an army looking for bloodshed in the
most important battle of the war.
You have left my heart ripped open,
dripping the hot blood of the most crimson
red the world has ever seen.
My veins are reworking themselves to spell
out your name. Look closely,
you can see them through my translucent skin.
I'm reaching out for you but the air is cold.
The oxygen that fills my lungs smells of only ice.
No one is near, you're so far away.
I can't stay with you. You are warm, I am cold.
You're wrapped up and I'm abandoned.
You sleep well with the ghost of another,
I don't sleep. Empty spaces in my bed,
empty spaces in my heart.
Don't talk to me like that; I can't take it.
I fall. Don't talk to me. I can't take it.
I fall. Each word that comes out of your mouth.
I trip on it, I lose my grip. I fall. My balance lost
forever with you. I fall. I'm in love. I fell.
And i'm still so cold.
And my heart is still bleeding.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
One by one they fall
The ones I thought
Were my friends
There they go,
Distancing themselves
From me,
Until they are completely gone
From sight
But not from mind
Every night I remember
The fallen faces
Once friends
Now death eaters
Devouring my
Malleable flesh
"You will never lose me"
The newest one to the
Fallen faces said just the night before
She lied, and stole my friend
One less from my already
Tiny group
Of people who "care" for me
I never know what I do
To deserve this from anyone
Maybe its my tone
My anger
The demons that let themselves loose
On the page
Or maybe it's the things that count
The things they know and see of me
The kindness I give to them
The love I give for all I care for
Or the horrible, despicable, evil
Things inside themselves,
That I protect them from
My malleable flesh
That they currode away
The flesh that
They know is weak
And know they can walk all over
Because of my overwhelming kindness
I don't know
Why I keep believing
When people say they won't leave
When they always do
My mother
Gives me my kindness
My father
Gives me the rage I throw
On pages and pages
But never show
My mother
The reason why I'm so malleable
My father
The reason why I have the dreams
Of killing, of yelling
Both
My depression
My mind now
Reworking all that has just happened
In it self
It organizes my thoughts
Replaying the events
Showing what to do next time
Re-Awakening itself
To now know
Not to trust those who
Show no effort
Who pretend to know
Who eventually, will be the others
In my dreams,
Of killing
In my writing,
Where all of my demons let loose.
I want to love all
Even thought I know
Not all will love me
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
Waiting at a café table
You walk in and I’m disabled
Seeing for the first time
The blue-green-grey of those troubled eyes
Lost in the limelight
Where I found you, saw you,
Knew you in this new space,
Feeling this strange rhyme,
Waiting at an intersection of
Strung out weathered hope
The silence lengthens, the stare deepens
Casting what I knew into distant realms,
Reworking the good and
Finding those lines redrawn
I no longer anticipate, but wait
For those answers only you can give,
Those I was never able to predict.
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 6:07 PM UTC
I am constantly rewriting lines
I am always retracing my steps
I am stuck reworking my code
I am lost in reconfiguration
A skipping records plays
(plays, plays, p-p-plays)
and I am caught in-between
here and there and where I want to be
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
I want someone who is
More than just a cure for my loneliness
Someone who can seal my madness with a kiss
More than a pretty face
An electric soul
a fiery grace
More than static
Over and out of control
Til death do we tear each other apart
Reworking our guts into the bigger picture
You can't spell heart without "art"
To the one who can supernova my senses with
a stare
a touch
a telepathic tug
Just be here now
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
An hour is as fleeting as
the angle of the morning sun,
as brief as any moment has
a kinship with the current one.
The fabric of the world with all
its artwork, every sun-dried streak,
refits the future with a small
reworking of a brush technique.
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 8:05 AM UTC
You peal back his past and and pull it through
sewing his history and his going to be up in a moment
torment and torture, you delight in his pain and his fighting
delighting in the life you are tainting, destroying
watching him straining,he is trying to forget what remaining
and I am stuck painting
sketching
reworking
searching
He wants to forget you,He wants to forget your mean, your mad, the things you stole and the things you have.
He wants to forget your mean and your mad... and all the things you once had.
He wants to forget you.
erase your face from the storybook life we have now
you refuse to let absence in, showing up in the dark
throwing bricks
steeling things from his yard
he is too nice, he is too hurt
I love him more and more and I feel this burn
burn your house
burn your yard
steel your cat
and fuel this urge
burn your mean
burn your fire
burn that look
that old desire
burn that smile that's backed with hate
fight that feeling that turns me irate
sit back down
I refuse
to do anything
that makes me feel like you
Hating what hurts what I love most
Burning hot
cheers lets toast
toast to being more
the high road is hard, I am feeling chard
I remember what matters most
I have him in my heart, he has me and his
when he says my name he does not cringe
He loves me.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
Such is the mirror of a tomorrow
That makes now’s theft no more than a borrow.
Myriad borrows without reflection
Gybe the sailor’s course beyond correction.
Sailing on the waves of a reworking.
Reinforcing winter’s wind’s inflection
To fill the world with a dire infection.
Yesterday left to cruel sorrow.
Winter prevails for tomorrow.
The fallen guide the vacuous minded.
They follow to their destiny of dead.
In eternity of eternal sleep
Blind to the reward they shall never reap.
Perpendicularly prevailing for
Fighting back with righteousness they shall keep
Until victorious they take the leap
To the promise that has been read
By those remaining sound minded.
Such was the mirror of that yesterday
That cleans the slate thereafter, ev’ryday.
Their dirges sound hollow when spring is here.
They’ll never return lest we forget fear.
We learn to reflect the heart of the all.
No more need we shed a single sad tear
For this, it is written, he will forswear.
Embrace love for there’s no other way,
As it will prevail forever and a day.
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 11:23 AM UTC
Bid on the buyer
That's my bet
Bet on my betters
And be Lucks letter.
Number 1
And 8
Divide,
You're lefts with 8's
Starting life to late.
The potter and his plates
His foot on the pedal,
Hands on the clay
Reworking what he believes
To be too late.
Early morning start
And hurt fills his heart,
He holds together
Like dried cracked clay.
Living life he plays
His part,
Untill
Heavy & ******
The grave heavy
& muddy.
Disintegrate, reincarnate
And intergrate.
Live again
Love again
And be whole,
Feel full
And reach your goals.
Sacred with the power of soul.
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 3:11 AM UTC
Welcome bountiful singing Gulls.
Blue sunshine, reworking seasons seas;
Seamless changeling.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Jesus My Saving God, works within me.
Creating my path toward his salvation.
For he does not want me to be lost here.
So through his plan and path in my life.
He creates an path that shall finish my salvation.
He works within all of his peoples life here.
Reworking an path that shall lead unto him.
It is part of the beauty of his amazing grace.
So never allow your life to end too soon.
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 5:54 AM UTC
A poetical set
of two clauses
or something
-I've never been
good at math-
(speech as
is before it
implies any
poetry)
(the indeterminate,
aleatory
in nature fully
rid of all
things prose)
do they
intersect?
at which point
does X differ
from Y and
does the
M slope upwards
or down?
checks and
reworking
I've never
been good
at math
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
I want to get lost
where the world is yours
where the skies reflect your innermost thoughts
and the clouds are your ideas
and the rain they wring is your desires
which flood the sahara of your hopes
to watch them trickle through the cracks,
your doubts,and come to feed,
to nurture your needs
till trunks of talent grow,
and twist, and expand
and, like the traits of your hands
reach up to the sky to touch your ideas
take their nectar, patiently blossom
while uncertainty floats about as flotsam
to see the universe as your playground
the stars as you picture them
unearthed and unfeatured, and then
explode into the atmosphere
with heavy annotation
extraordinary reworking of ordinary constellations
the noxious gas of your speech
choked full of that which I cant understand
but for which I yearn to know, as a human, as a man
if I could choose where to get lost
a place to throw myself in
the point where I stand my ground
and forget all sense of skin
where I am only eyes
like plunging, wide-stared
underwater, secluded
and breath ill-prepared
it would be in your eyes-
then your mind, then your stare
then your soul, then your damages
everything there
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 2:55 PM UTC
Taught your books
Reread your words
Walked at Walden
Life changing monent
Touching your desk left me humbled
Always crafting words like reworking recipes to improve them
Poets can't laugh at themselves but their words lessen life's highs and lows
C@rainbowchaser2019
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 1:40 PM UTC
The moon rose behind
the mountains, like
a runway.
The stars up ahead
looked pretty, from
far away.
With little vision in my eyes,
and face half-under messy water,
those lonely shores now rippled with life,
moonlight flash on pier.
Scratched ghosts of headland through seafoam,
bruise-coloured & careful, and I alone,
seeing faces in old raindrop night-time
moonscape storm had come.
All with black language of love and luck,
started war with that woman, since we changed.
Despite remem’bring tattoos and smiles at dusk,
in my dreams you fade.
Island ferry siren naked,
waves of black and brown, pulling it inward,
vibrating great shadows of formless bay,
and consuming it.
Through the spiral of shiv’ring moonlight
magic, cheap birds lost their names in the moonlight,
reworking old songs they half-memorised,
breathing us goodnight.
But have you heard their songs lately?
Are they kissing, working on new poetry?
What will they remember in three-month’s time?
And who will be there when it all falls down?
Well does that matter anymore?
This poet’s a fool, he thought he changed; It’s
just new kind’s of **** new moonlight on pier,
hold me, anyway.
The rust-red banks of old love soon
crashed under cigarettes of rippling tide,
as horror covered whole stretch of sky,
midnight scene, & I.
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 4:51 AM UTC
Out of the fire he called me, as I stand the ashes fall off of me.
All that is left of me , is what was not burn in the fire of cleansing.
For he is at work within each of us, cleansing with a Holy Fire.
Transforming us, into his Perfect likeness, remolding each of us.
Molding , transforming us reworking us into a Holy Child.
For he uses circumstances, situations, and people in our lives.
To create an race of Humble, Holy Race of soldiers that belong to him.
For he take an group of nobodies and make us into his somebodies.
That he shall use to reach a world that is dying from our sins.
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
I wish that we hadn't dated last year
I'm doing better now
But alas
You're not here
Would timing have changed
Our inevitable fate?
What if I'd been better
In a "more myself" state
--
But I cannot choose
How the cards fall
At the mercy of the moment
Despite wanting to control all
From this I have learned and grown
In innumerable ways
Lessons I can carry
Into life's next phase
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 6:28 PM UTC