"seclusive" poems
“I’ve become lost in the cross hairs of love and lust.”
His line of thought became stagnant with no one to watch,
spellbound by her snare looking for someone to care,
her words would trimmer proving to much to bare—
“it’s just not the same, in the way that i love you,
something doesn’t remain.”
A sword breeched his heart that day,
vessel went off course filling with black waters of spite,
lines became blurred, compass askew,
naive conceptions of a roadmap wouldn’t do.
“Rain washed away our chalk, it’s not all lost”
this thought’s become seared,
simmering in his mind until the time would come.
I can’t talk of the grilling in our prince’s kingdom,
except that the tyrannical king, made hell his home.
Acidity was palpable, yet still he continued,
never ceasing words kept him through—
“but I do love you” until the fat lady’s tune,
sulking in the nostalgia of her swoons.
He continued to praise her more than the moon
thanks the sun, for illuminating it’s room,
in the sky, and the stars scream out cries,
for the mangled prince lays waiting only for her shine;
however the lyrics must stop, at some point,
the fat ladies pitch will drop,
until the nightingales love song stops.
Scared to be hurt once again,
a vow has been made that no more friends will be lost,
or bring pain, but this came at a cost.
Drowned by sorrow he knew only one way to manage,
cut everyone out because they can do damage.
Reclusive, seclusive, he shut out all,
friends’ unaware, the ball couldn’t have dropped further;
ashamed, self-disdained the thought feels like ******
What of the piper that doesn’t pipe?—As grim as tales come,
stuck between a gloc and a hard bane.
“Baring may be impossible” he said to cold steel,
heavier than expected, ice-like to his lips,
sitting against the wall, with a cumbersome grip.
Last text sent “Take care of everyone for me, you’re now the guardian.”
Panic set in friends, but it was all to late to heed.
Until the end comes, he looks into the cosmos of his mind,
and lastly to her shrine; final thoughts unknown,
except to the wall and rug bellow
but here I’ve presumed— “I will love you forever”
trigger pulled, death concludes.
RIP- Clay
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 2:39 PM UTC
Love,
Deep love,
Why?
I am Vile!
Villainous, Mischievous
Destructive, Productive
Seclusive, Inclusive
Hate,
Deep hate,
Why?
I am, I!
Represent, Comprehend
Wash away, Go astray
No go, Home no...
You
Wish,
Dream,
Feel,
Scream,
Fall,
Crawl,
Won,
Lost,
Kiss,
Squeal,
Heal,
****
Me...
Unknowingly
Deservingly...
Our connection,
Shattered in the wake of deception,
My repentance,
None is thy sentence
Shivers run below
Shivers run below
Shivers run below
Snowy Diablo
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 7:44 PM UTC
There is a department in my heart
that deals with sadness.
This department is non-inclusive
a strict code is adhered to.
This department in my heart
has collected and collated all
The pain, malice, despondency
this broken heart and soul has experienced.
Sadness has my soul in handcuffs
hapless, anxious I retreat into
myself, seclusion, on lockdown
starkest bottled pain is shook.
Harnessed, hardened and shelved
with madness the sadness is in retreat
It'll return though, it has to
It's been called depression
I'm a weather front!
With gladness I'd take the pain
the badness from my heart
and send it away
but there's more room in a broken heart.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
My loneliness is self imposed
I try to escape, yet the door remains closed
The walls I've built up keep me grounded
As I take sanction in the fact I'm surrounded
There's no on to blame for the demise of my soul
Alone and isolated, my heart devours me whole
Constantly searching for something to numb the pain
Yet nothing dulls the thoughts racing through my brain
Hopelessly I long to be proven wrong
For someone to pick up my pieces and carry them along
No matter the wishes, I remain alone
For who I really am remains unknown
I hide, halfheartedly, behind a broken facade
Seclusive, elusive, its myself I evade
Secretly hating all who claim to love me
Yet still I hide in the shadows, allowing no one to see
For no one can handle my distorted senses
In order to protect them, I put up my defenses
In a world of shallow thinkers, I sink to the floor
Blending in with my surroundings, its myself I abhor
Yet I can't contain the longing in my soul
To find someone who fits the missing piece, making me whole
Mar 14, 2011
Mar 14, 2011 at 11:11 PM UTC
Let's go.
Public places
people
everyone.
"Hello,"
stranger says.
Seclusive
as I tend to be.
"You know,
gentle jaws
reside
inside me."
Below
my multitudinous mask
there is trust
in no one.
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 2:37 AM UTC
I fell for you
I don't know why
You are a mess
but so am I
You asked me
"why didn't you tell me
you like me so much"
It's because
I feel seclusive
with you
seclusive from
the rest of the world
and I clung onto it
You can see
when I am in pain
You're the only person
in this world
who is on the outside looking in
You're the only person
I have been able to
share that with
and I let you in
When it started
slipping away
it all began
to feel meaningless
I feel as if
I may over exaggerate
and I often over think
but that's who I am
That's the pain I carry
it's a blessing
and a curse
to feel that much
I am a wheel
and I continue to spin
because life continues
to push on the pedals
that make me spin
I am dizzy from
all the life I have
felt
and spent
I often fall
sometimes with a laugh
but sometimes I get bruises
I am sorry
I expected more
maybe I am crazy
but I like who we are together
our lives will pedal well
together
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 3:10 AM UTC
A brown blot in a swarm of yellow
in the Summer and a cushion of green
in the Spring. It’s white crackled brim
is all that separates the splintered walls
from the gravelly top. The smell of exhaust
whirs the inside to life and ragged dogs
trot out from under the seclusive underside.
The hilly bumps follow up with an uneven
hairstyle of wild grasses. The front door
leads to a cacophony of rustic and tech
as the floors are unforgiving plywood
supporting computers, TV’s, and consoles.
Each step risks a hissing creak and leads
to a weathered table that fed mouths old and young.
Open as it is, the valley still clutches
this place. The winds; sometimes a warm kiss
and sometimes a teasing sting push an old tree.
It shaded a crooked swing set made
for the children, but children they are
no more. The dust kicked up by vehicles
cake the walls with each new visitor,
but just like the children, they also
become few and far between. Grandpa’s house
used to be my house too.
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 1:23 AM UTC
Thoughts swirling through heads
An ignored and scorned collection of all life’s thorns
Behind doors- we live lives of seclusive depression
Questioning the lives lived, the lucid lunacy in session
A surge of motivation to achieve the pipe dreams
Sown from the art works of others- the inner child screams
We can’t achieve.
He’s locked inside a cage of fool’s gold
I suppose he’d **** the warden if we weren’t our own foes.
We were told he’d come out but we’ve grown too old
The jail is locked the key was sold
I turned in it for green but as I flipped through the folds
No happiness was revealed just the cost of my soul
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC
There's something about the sound of the wind,
on a cold chilly night, puts goosebumps on my skin.
I feel the Earth turning right beneath my feet,
the thought of dying is just so bittersweet.
I see people on the streets with planets in their eyes,
they look down at the ground as they walk on by.
It's like every person is a world apart,
walking around aimlessly with a broken heart.
I never thought I'd see a day where people on the streets,
were just as seclusive as dreams are obsolete.
It's absolutely crazy,
how we've all grown.
It's drives me crazy,
how much is still unknown.
Sometimes I hurt in my head and in my heart,
but for what it's worth, I can't tell the two apart.
I've spent years upon years trying to help myself,
but what makes me feel the best is when I help someone else.
I see people breaking down, falling to the floor,
begging for help, looking for an open door.
No one wants to ask for a savior in their life,
because their all afraid of saying the word Christ.
I never thought I'd see a day where people in need,
would rather die alone than with something to believe in.
It's absolutely crazy,
how we've all grown.
But it drives me ******* crazy,
knowing how much we've lost.
People think before they feel and act before they think,
this strange world we live in really needs to rethink,
how we got here and how we can still grow,
before we lose touch with what we use to know.
It's driving me crazy,
how much we don't know.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
January thirteenth two thousand
and nineteen will complete
mine third score orbitz round the sun,
who as a youth evinced
demure and effete
traits, and now weathered, Ongepatshket,
and plenty seasoned,
I feel ready to greet
a garrulous, humorous, and indecorous
Shikse for an indiscreet
liaison, where she will
get reddit to shutterfly,
and twitter like an uber keet
oozing with NON GMO
gluten and monosodium
glutimate saccharine dripping
with au naturale oversweet
ample ***** shapely waist,
and derriere replete
with plenty of junk in the trunk
cavorting, flirting, and issuing manumission
to fraternize, friskily frolic
fruitfully mixing bedlam with bunk
sundering politesse as a "FAKE",
gentlemanly, and honorable hunk,
when in truth,...this lapsed (Lou Zoo Lee)
christened nebish lunk
bookish, loutish, and wonkish teasing
seminarian formerly seclusive monk
keying into my inner philanderer,
yeah...yeah...yeah overdrunk
with prurient fantasies donning an imitation
of (guess who), one
narcissistic trumpeting punk
at heart my idol, no matter the teetering
ship of state he nearly countersunk,
which purportedly mirrors
his Wharton curriculum vitae,
which...well showed he nearly did flunk
apprenticed as POTUS with
FLOTUS attractive trophy
wife (number three) female chunk
and,...oh yes aesthetically
pleasing female real estate
from appearances marriage
barren and devoid of great
je nais sais quois,
though Melania rarely irate,
and partial government shutdown of late
reverberating with fallout, that does oscillate
furloughed federal employees to perspire
principally at increased amortization rate.
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 11:40 AM UTC