"riles" poems
Be so fractioned
my split personality be split
Never know who's comin' out
Kinda like the laundry mat
Does mine at the Wishy Washy
Funny how things get all separated
Whites all in a pile over here
Darks and colors over there
Breaks it down even further
Gotta lotta red
so that gets its own pile
whilst medium and light colors
be divided
Blacks and blues
just lumped together
Then it just gets all mixed up again
'Cause truth is
don't gots the dough to through
down that many loads
This riles Señorita Clarita
Thinks I'm cheap
so mostly, I end up lookin' like some
techno tie-dyed fruit basket
in girly pants
Yeah, still be wearin'
my sister's hand-me-downs
Be some hard times for
The Poet Launderette
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 12:09 AM UTC
love or lust
“I cannot tell a lie”
As I lie
Laying
being beneath you
forcing my light feminine weight above
the sun to your sky
it’s all the same
i feel false i do not feel
you compliment my waist,
my laugh;
my witty repetitoire
riles you—
a true Napoleon in this pint-sized frame
they call me pretty
I yearn to be more
you are leaving and I am numb
maybe I learn to forget
opal iridescence in my free-spirited eyes
dance once
you are gone
I scream to no one,
“must I be alone
to be my own?”
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 9:47 AM UTC
Ayoko na lamang bilangin ang mga oras
Na nasisinagan pa tayo ng araw,
Maghahabulan at magtatampisaw na parang mga basang sisiw
Sa hubad na kalsadang naunang pagalitan ng langit.
Naaalala ko pa noong elementarya'y
Sabay tayong papasok sa eskwela
Matapos humigop ng mainit na sopas ni Nanay.
At minsan nga'y nakalilimutan nyang hanguin ito nang maaga
Kaya matapos nating kumain ay sabay rin tayong magtatawanan
At maglalaro ng "tag-tagan" patungo sa kanto sa sakayan.
Hindi ba't pumupunta pa nga tayo sa may bandang iskwater,
Makapaglaro lang ng pitsaw sa dati nating mga kaklase?
Nagagalit kasi si Nanay kapag sa bahay natin sila niyayaya
At magkakalat ang putik sa ating sahig
Kasi pati si Bantay ay nakisali sa paghuhukay.
Ilang beses din tayong naligo sa dagat
Kahit na ang sabi ni Tatay ay manginas muna tayo
Habang siya ay nasa laot pa.
Pero uuwi tayong mga basa at walang pang-ulam na pasalubong
Kaya muli tayong mapagagalitan
Kasi ang titigas daw ng mga ulo natin.
Hindi ba nahuli ako sa eskwela noon na nangongopya sa'yo?
Tapos sinabi mo sa titser na ikaw ang nangongopya at 'di ako?
Hindi ko kasi makalimutan yun
Kasi pag-uwi natin sa bahay, ako pa yung nagtampo sayo
Nung ikaw yung unang pumili sa doughnut na dala ni Tatay.
At nung gabing iyon, hindi ako tumabi sa'yong matulog
Ang sabi ko pa ay ayaw na kitang makita muli
Kasi naghalo-halo na yung nasa utak ko.
Pero alam mo ba, na sa mga oras na yun
Hindi ko talaga inaasahang seseryosohin mo yun.
Kaya noong maggising na lamang ako'y
Nagulat akong wala sila Nanay at Tatay
At si Aling Rosing pa ang nagsabi sa'kin
Kung ano ang mga nangyari
At kung saan ako pupunta.
Sinabi ko na ngang ayoko na magbilang ng mga oras,
Pero heto pa rin ako...
At taon-taon akong nangungulila at nagsisisi.
Siguro nga kung hindi ako natulog agad
Ay baka may naggawa pa ako.
Siguro nga kung hindi ko sinabi ang mga iyon,
Ay hindi mo ring magagawang umalis.
At siguro nga kung hindi ako nagtampo'y
Wala naman talaga tayong pag-aawayan.
Hindi ka rin hahanapin nila Nanay sa gitna ng gabi
At hindi sila masasagasaan ng tren para iligtas ka lang.
Siguro nga, pero huli na ang lahat eh
Wala na kayong lahat at iniwan n'yo na 'kong mag-isa.
Sana sa huli kong pagbisita'y mawala na rin ang lahat ng bigat,
Mawala na ang pagkamuhi ko sa sarili ko,
Kasi pagod na ako...
Pagod na pagod na ako.
Oct 8, 2021
Oct 8, 2021 at 11:11 PM UTC
Morphine & Cola, Mrs. I can't believe I told you this is, so exacerbating I Can't sleep; even this weather riles inside me as we weep. There wasn't Anything that'd have shown you. There hasn't been a single sprout of Showmanship, or the erstwhile philanthropy that needers' raise their Eyebrows to and to. This is the degree we know it. The subtle afterglow With everything that you've known, and while the snow settles on your Window sill. While winter rime binds its ice to the wheat, and every soft Little seedling sewn, whispers its final sentences before autumn while it Drifts itself to sleep. There were the cards and the faces of Jacks among Aces, places uplifted by China dishes of porcelain overflowing, like Tencel in socks, woven into the pockets of trousers. Where does the Mischief go while it certainly isn't ours, and the dandy light across your Temple bares a gleam.
Some things are enriching, but yet too sordid to stare at. While the game Is enriching, the pain is too much to bear, and whether in vain or ********** the likes of you, make these lips of mine much softer against Your finger tips. Tips of fingers, petals of flowers, baskets of fresh bread Baked with wheat flour- follow the noon bird, fancy a sit by a brook, and Listen for the whistle-less, whistling of a rook.
Grey is quite golden too. Like the same tencel that I've used, or the silken Web treated to a loom, like lightning bugs out for an early dance on the Afternoon. Seldom as moss on sidewalk path or the pangs of laughing Heart at mass. What does the new bird bring? The bride of this coming Spring? For every sugarcube we taste, we save ourselves from second Base. Dr. Narrod with a gentle touch, the inspection you love so much. The gentle morsels smoothed upon the hand. The girl-like woman with Her ewe-like lamb. "For all of you who wanted them 808s, can you feel that ************* bass. For all of those who wanted them 808s, can you feel that ************* bass. I like the way you move."
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC
Once more the battles of life by stealth,
Creep upon you with blades, half hid under devil's sheath,
Deceiving soul and self of their immortal worth,
Shrinking my heart the breadth of its girth,
My friend fights, struggles to slay their ghost,
I've wondered how such a soul can be haunted,
And for days I've prayed and chanted,
Because of the fear their spirit is lost.
I have walked, traversed prayer's line for miles,
To save them from a fate that appals the mind and riles,
Searching fathoms of my sadness stricken soul,
To find ways to make again theirs whole,
Imagining their sheer delight,
In future years bereft of chains,
Bereft of sad and melancholy refrains,
I see them free, take flight.
May God grant light and love and peace,
May their mental struggle cease,
For being borne aloft on wings,
That inspire mind to soar and sing,
Considering Love a sufficient goal,
An immortal truth adorned by light,
That maketh for an awesome sight,
At peace with the one and all.
My friend being stricken found life devious,
Instead of coy and mischevious,
While that great Knight, that rose out of Heaven's fires,
Inspires feelings suffice to be sung to lyres,
Yet feels themselves beneath the beams
Of destiny, that touch the Earth,
Warms it the breadth of its girth,
And whose luck's light kisses our dreams.
My friend wails for their wilting fate,
And in my Heart a sorrow gestate,
I want my Heart to waltz with theirs,
Out of it's spiritual bars,
On the shores of Heaven we'd frolic play,
With them I'd be engorged on bliss,
Touched by the light of luck's kiss,
All throughout the day.
In my devotion I have learned this,
That to be not devoted is remiss,
To deny truth of Love is the worst,
Be banished from its kingdom who accursed,
Her splendour, to which we ought to be,
In mesmerised and spellbound awe,
To love, and cherish, and adore,
Her gifts and generosity.
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
I have a chance
Not chance
Opportunity
See, I’m learning to assert self
To claim space
And here is the time
The place
Ah, excitement!
Into my own power
The start of something
That’s what the cards read
Let’s start something!!
The reckless within me is chattering now
Infatuated curiosity peeps
What will happen next?!
Maybe I’m a drama queen
It riles something within me
Oh hit my spot!
Temptation divine
The danger of it all !
Freedom ~
Ah, life.
Ah, me.
Here we go
Abundance galore
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
I have been deeply
French-kissed
by the Sun.
My skin
unmistakably glistening,
reflecting;
the sensual moistness of her tongue.
Scorched by passion
from the very beginning.
A frenzied possession,
so deep,
now genetically smitten.
A torrid affair
by certain perceptions.
Unshakable,
defiantly unbreakable.
To wit questionable,
sometimes unbearable.
But...
I must confess
her kiss riles me,
and with it,
guilt
forgivingly
hails me.
Too,
the jealously of men
contorted,
merely
by
the sheer beauty
in her embrace.
?
I am at a loss, I despair,
I don't understand it.
Driven mad
simply,
by the affection of her face.
© Qwey.ku
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 3:52 AM UTC
The dishes are making me angry,
All relaxing after work in bubbles
While I just stand here and linger,
A kitchen ghost of scented soap.
People say my eyes are bright
So I scrub those glasses thoroughly
But it does nothing but show me.
My own hands go red on those
Horrible abrasive sponges
And much too hot water does
Nothing to soothe, just morphs into a
Boiling *** that riles my passing thoughts
Until I'm no longer pondering things.
I'm screaming in jealousy as I stack plates,
And fit bowls together so perfectly,
Maybe a drop falls because I'm cleaning
Dishes for one.
Maybe I'll smash them.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
Thinking of you
Riles me up
I get all hot
And act corrupt
I get ***** thoughts
I can't help it
I'm full of needs
And you're the culprit
My imagination
Takes me far
It's hard believing
How **** you are
I'll never get enough
Of the things you do
Oh how I think of them
The whole day through
I'll be here waiting
When you want to try
C'mon now baby
It'll take us high
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
I want to pick your brain for lunch to discuss the ongoings in this world and your views on controversial topics. I want to talk about the various books you read, the various shows and movies that entertain you. I want to know more about your beliefs, what appeals, riles, fascinates and triggers you. I want to know what makes you glow and dim. to watch you paint with different hues, form various constellation and explore the black hole of unexplored matter. I want to converse about the uncanny topics and the stigmatized ones. To know more about the philosophy, biology and chemistry of your existence and this world. I want to know about the intricacy, profundity and complexity around rather than keep to the surface topics.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 2:54 PM UTC
Our time shared at dinner was such a delight
That I keep on obsessing on holding you tight
When dinner is over I then put out the candles
And take you upstairs taking off your sandals
As I gaze at your eyes I see a look so hypnotic
That just riles me all up in this moment exotic
We arrive at our room and slowly commence
This story of Love that will be wildly intense
Laying you slowly in bed we both start to kiss
This moment enraptured with passionate bliss
Caressing you lightly I hold all your fingertips
Yet we carry forth while we keep locking lips
You smile deeply from the gems you call eyes
Then I kiss your tummy and hold your thighs
Teasefully slowly then we loosen our cuddle
I kiss you, tease you and then hold you subtle
I bite your lips playful as you slowly undress
All your body now bare as your soul I caress
You tease me slowly and take of my clothes
I nibble on your neck and you curl your toes
Clutching each other now charged with desire
The cores of our souls take us rapidly higher
Now lying on my back you then straddle me
We kiss with much passion now lost endlessly
****** and slowly we then begin making love
Sounds are now heard from below and above
Many whispers, gasps, and even slight moans
Are each done by you in the most cutest tones
Lustfully spicy now true Love’s being made
Purely ****** of moments now being displayed
The wildest of lust, you have now made me sin
Yet forever I am yours from outside to within
From the day that we met I waited for this day
Our night is now done as it’s gone its own way
This night of great pleasure for us now to keep
Exhausted and tired then you drift off to sleep
I hold you now closely and whisper in your ear
It has been only one night but it feels like a year
You slowly wake up smiling and look up at me
And I then whisper in your ear “I love you baby”
Oct 29, 2010
Oct 29, 2010 at 7:55 PM UTC
Your ghost tucks me in, yet never lets me sleep
Your ghost lies awake simply haunting me
Your ghost riles me awake
with the same familiar violent shake
that leaves me breathless alone only wrapped in sheets we bought together
Your ghost hides your letters
amid my stacks of papers
in hopes I find them later
finding them at precisely the moment when your memory has almost been entirely washed away
your ghost remains
leaving trinkets that force me to relapse
to a past
where your ghost never existed
for when you walked out of our life, you forget to take the ghost that came with it...
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 10:36 PM UTC
the pull to your core riles my attention
the pull is dedicated, though not to you.
your core is what I'm after.
you represent an immature version
of us, I add in my growth and we
continue to develop.
though you are merely a fraction,
we are spread far. the pieces
rile my attention, create a tunnel
that emblazons my affection for myself.
for us all. in each meeting,
I am looking for you.
my thoughts are captured
in the essence of the trueness of everything,
the fragility, the permanence of nothing.
flowing in this interaction, the balance.
it seems life must be short.
my daughter calls me to live long,
I wake each day to embrace another chance
to sit in myself, in this body,
to witness this vantage point.
I get lonely in here, my tribe spread thin.
I know that the energy of
the spread of a galaxy realigns us constantly.
we create the things that communicate to
hear our own memories.
and I am just thankful,
all other emotions lacking substance.
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
Understanding
There is a fine line, between willing and understanding
the clueless hole left in your soul is grappling for the spark that once lit your heart
while you whistle nonchalance to the sea of faces that crash through your life like a broken wave
Because understanding is not done without willingness
and these problems you see so clearly in front of you honey, they don’t exist
not to them no, they don’t exist.
Those promises whispered in-between sheets late at night remain there, woven in the cotton that you have forgotten with the bite of yesterday’s dawn.
They implore you they do, presenting lies disguised as childish riles
and your bedroom light now is sheltered in shadow and it feels like a gallows, but they can’t see that.
No, they can’t see that.
The lids of your eyes are left masked in disguise
these problems you feel no longer seem real
but the confusion does.
And that rise in hysteria that makes you grow wearier turns your soldier façade into something so vague
and you can’t explain it because your heart is like rock and the problem now is
You don’t know what.
That confusion is real and those things that you feel they are present they are true they are here.
But there is hope
Darling there is hope.
For you aren’t alone in a world full of scorn there are people that care honey, people are there!
But you can’t see that
no, you can’t see that.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
airs and graces
made up faces
hide weary bones
and holey souls
plastic smiles
haven't seen you in awhile
as internal insecurity riles
the faint heart murmurs
in these desolate piles
that have run,
far too many miles
pacemakers racing,
cracking casings,
death dicing,
panic rising,
polite ruses,
for the aged muses
pacing this,
social green mile
daily shuffle, kerfuffle
as dark winds ruffle
the blue rinse perms
and only partially muffle
comments snide
about bottoms wide,
perkless *******
and unholy rests,
of these none too
permanent guests
at this palace of
mortality and malice.
end of hours
visitors gone
wilting flowers
and dinner gong
release the nurses
put away the purses
slump and sway
end of another day
keeping the old foe
death at bay
granny nightie,
thoughts now flighty
with pins in hair and vacant stare
fervently wishing to be anywhere
wishing for some one to be there
but knowing, life's just not fair
when you've grown this old
knowing that each day is a dare
each day a gem sometimes rare
but more often gravel
yet, better living than stone cold.
tho stone cold.....but without a care
here I stand, I sit, I lie,
thinking dark thoughts
on the protracted art of dying.
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 5:59 PM UTC
I want everything that bugs me and annoys me to go away so I can focus on what I need to get done. Be at my best be myself not letting other stupid factors distract my choices.
I help everyone even if I dislike what im doing but doing the right thing is hard the intentions are good even though others make them seem bad
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 9:10 AM UTC
Waste the way that it tastes as it rolls off the filter
tip
Light off the night as it riles up our lower lives like pure
reptile brains
Do moths fly towards lightning bugs like
candles?
Does a drug overdose vision of God
turn the addict into a messiah
Or is it just another try at seeing the light
for the first time right overcoming might
Like a sight for sore eyes sick to my stomach
every **** morning
Two Coors Lights and the rain is pouring
it's **** cold in this Texas town
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
minds on a trip
loose fingers rip
passion from the heart
never was to start
need a patient hand to light
the fire
you ignite
you burn
oh you burn
but the smoke is seen for miles
journey inside soon riles
we all follow the smoke
white puffs of promise and hope
that we, too can ignite
and in turn we might
lose ourselves in the fog
and go up with the mountains
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 10:00 AM UTC
My laugh projects
And riles
The part in your soul
That feels free and wild
The one that is oblivious
To the chains of social construction
The wickedness of humanity
That taints mental function.
Jul 18, 2021
Jul 18, 2021 at 1:00 AM UTC
The colors of your memory, you can no longer contrast as they swirl into one another.At times they are vibrant as though you are vividly living them experiencing them,and at times they are dull as though they have faded and been acid washed.
Your past slips into the present and present slips into the past. Some days you love me;as though it was the first time you are holding me in the palms of promises. But there are days when my name never slips your tongue and I am a mere stranger to you.
The memories are no longer stored in your mind, but on gigabytes that I have to play – that has become your storage and retrieval. Your memory has become pixelated, but you can no longer remember them as though it was your own.
Some days you’re on a carousel of memories in your mind; revering and your tongue has forgotten its language. At times you speak eloquently, but at times they are stars that are unlinked and lost. You used to weave constellations but now it’s difficult to put in a thread into the needle.
Thread of your memories begins to wear and the tales woven through ancestry fray with details as the world slips away and the thread unwinds. You try revising the tales, but the thinning at ends of your recollection slowly fades.
The scent infused with ambiance sends echoes of familiar places, resulting in you having spasms of remembrance while the flutters of moth wings beat at the edge of your mind.
There are days when you become a shell of yourself, as your pupils remain fragments detached from reality. I watch you as you wind yourself back in front of my eyes. Ebbing and flowing, freezing and releasing; trying to make sense of the confusion and panic that riles in your mind.
Though you feel, your stars are growing cold and feel like an ethereal that has collapsed, your smile is still the brightest star in the furthest galaxy. It is made of combustion of crimson blue yonder and candy hues.
Though your palms are dreams wrinkled dry, and your memories are falling like baby tooth, as the color of your speech is bleached and you frantically scavenge for memories to ground and make sense - I’ll be there to hold your scattered mind with patience and love you the days you won’t remember me as your own
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 8:32 AM UTC
I love the simple things in life....
The heart rending bird-call just before dawn,
Crunching footsteps across frost-bitten grass,
Scudding clouds across an engorged full moon,
The reverberation of waves as they hit the cliffs below,
The unsteadiness of new-born legs,
The sensation of snow on rose-heated cheeks,
The diaphragm throbbing bass of an orchestra,
The taste of salt when a storm riles the sea,
The feel of grass between my toes,
Sensual music oozing through my veins,
Getting caught in a shower of cherry blossom on a windy day,
Being dazzled by colour and artistic renditions,
Receiving a present that someone has made themselves,
Happy endings,
A seductive kiss in the rain,
Films that grab you by the short and curlies,
Books that invade and probe your imagination,
The feel of a butterfly landing on my skin,
A yearning to reach beyond our universe and visit the tantalising stars that I see on a clear night,
The unrestrained laughter of a child,
The mischievous glint in someone's eye,
A replete sigh, indicating good food, good wine and fantastic company,
A friend contacting me out of the blue,
Bare skin upon bare skin,
Cobwebs glistening with early morning dew,
Wood-smoke as it wafts up my nose,
Fulfilling the expectation in someone's eyes,
Snuggling against a beating heart,
The sensation of a cold mountain stream on a sweltering day,
People that make me think and laugh,
The rub of an unshaved cheek,
The quickening of my pulse at the thought of finding my soul-mate,
Rain clattering on a corrugated iron roof,
An unexpected hug or kiss,
The feel of polished marble or wood beneath my finger tips,
The unbridled intensity of a storm,
The first rays of a sun-rise and the diffused glow of a sunset,
Rustling through a carpet of leaves,
Someone snoring in my ear to send me to sleep,
Feeling the sun on my face after a cold snap,
The tactile feel of warm fur beneath my hands,
Waking up in someone's arms,
Singing along to my favourite songs without being self-conscious,
Making slow, sensual, all-encompassing love!
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
The oven whispers heat
The meal riles in smiley pain
This food is ******
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 3:41 PM UTC
I love people
Who I can be silent with.
Who lets the air be filled with unspoken syllables.
Who lets silence be silence,
Doesn’t push it away, unwanted and ugly.
Who makes it beautiful,
Not just empty and bland.
Who makes it thoughtful -
Lets me see the marathon in their eyes.
Who doesn’t puncture the air with filler words,
But rather morphs them into something
That when spoken,
Riles up my emotions. Makes me think. Makes me laugh.
Who lets the buzzing in the air,
The sound of breaths escaping us,
And the heartbeats in our chests
Sing in our broken ears.
Who doesn’t tone them down,
But emphasizes them.
Who looks around, then back at me,
And when the tranquility is finally fractured,
It is replaced by something
Meaningful.
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 2:10 AM UTC