"secures" poems
She saves swatches of fabric
pinked with special shears;
orders them in co-ordinated heaps
to keep her life fuss-free.
The finished quilt bubbles in her head.
She imagines it telling her bedtime stories
or lines of poetry to help her sleep -
"Better than sheep" she thinks.
She cuts card; stitches with rough tacking;
fantasizes downy feathers floating
between her patchwork story and
backing of silk slipping against skin,
then secures with neat tiny stitches
and strong coloured thread, to ensure
that her dream won't fall apart at the seams.
Mar 10, 2010
Mar 10, 2010 at 11:57 PM UTC
She sits at the dinner table
Flattened lips
Tightly-fisted hands
Neutral face
She is disgusted
As she lifts the spoon to her mouth
Immediate remorse fills her body as the taste buds get the first feel of the warm food
She is disgusted
As she continues to eat, she can see the food turning into fat traveling to her cheeks
and to her jaw and to her arms and to her shoulders and to her chest and to her stomach
covering the bones that she wants to pierce through her skin
She can see it travel to her thighs, largening in size, making them touch, covering the huge gap that she wants situated in the middle
She is disgusted
She gets paler and paler with every chew and every swallow
And so to escape this torture, she lies and tells her uncle and aunt that her stomach is upset
and she feels sick
But she wasn't lying
Because her stomach was truly upset because it did not want to be filled
It wanted to stay tiny
It wanted to stay beautiful
It wanted to be more beautiful
She goes straight to the bathroom and locks the door
Washes her hands before sticking two fingers down her throat
Removes them once she feels the disgust rising through her esophagus
Closes her eyes as her upset stomach throws away everything unwanted
She is disgusted
She secures the lock in her bedroom
Thinking maybe it will keep the demons away
Or at least long enough for a second of sanity
But they are too gruesomely evil because the disgust that was once in her throat has now traveled to her wrists
She criticizes how her wrist bone isn't showing enough
Disgust travels to her chest
how her ribs aren't piercing enough
Disgust travels to her hips
how her hip bones aren't showing enough
Disgust travels to her thighs
how the space between isn't big enough
Disgust travels to her fingertips
Tension building up in her palms
The demons' silence turn into screams
She gives in
Picks up the knife
and writes an new poem on her body
I
am
disgusted
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 6:37 AM UTC
”against your will were you created,
against your will were you born,
against your will do you live,
against your will will you die, and
against your will will you stand in judgment before the
King of kings, the Holy One, blessed be He.”
Rabbi Elazar HaKappar (C.170 - C.200 CE)
(Ha Kappar: the one who made and gave atonement)
<§>
***in these, the years of my erosive declination,
when the noble prize, time for introspection,
once was a chore of delaying, now no longer can be off-put,
the certainties of Elazar, offer guidable satisfactions***
***the nighttime review, resurrecting my life, the gaps,
the untaken actions, those dream-schemes speak loudest,
memories of what should have been, are a litany of what ifs,
prosecutorial accusations of crass wastage***
***against my will, the charges brought,
against my will, plead guiltily my innocence,
against my will, knowingly, time’s erasure judgment,
secures my fate, all the granular cells causal dissipation***
***my warped willingness to be a coward,
it was my meditative, to natural be the lesser man,
choosing the safety premise, the road most oft trod,
the addition of my meager totality, willing given***
Even if all these land mine/roadblocks
and summary judgements are against my will,
willingly do I confess, in all innocence, my guilt,
“if it be my will”
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 2:45 PM UTC
It's easy to be good at many things,
It's sad to be known for just a few;
It's alright to try everything once,
But it's hard to be an Ace among the crew.
It does take a lot of courage
To accept the norms and later pine;
But to stand up to what you believe in--
That takes a hell of a thick spine!
People call it arrogance,
To walk away from the crowd;
But with time, the one who walked away,
Is the one who walks proud.
Free will is an illusion for many,
It's a social necessity to walk in a herd;
Society accepts you on its own conditions--
Which if not fulfilled, you remain unheard...
There's a monarchy of tradition,
That feeds a monopoly of disappointment;
*It's your charity to their egos,
That secures your appointment!*
Go, find where you belong,
Amidst this raging tide;
Swim through the mailstorm,
Pull at the chains that keep you tied.
Break free of those psych bonds,
Move out into the light;
Rid yourself of that ancient poison,
And proclaim your own path as right.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC
To say that
BARAK OBAMA exists
Is a JOKE!
•
(He is not even a
Figment
Of
The imagination)
•••••••
OBAMAcare?
•
It should really be called
INSURANCE-COMPANYfuck you! **** you!
**** you!!
Till your dead!
••••••
Homeland Security
"Secures" the Homeland
In the same manner
As a LOCKDOWN
"Secures" a prison
••••••
••••••
••••••
The AMERICAN DUMMY sat on the wall
The AMERICAN DUMMY had a great fall
All the BANKERS and all CORPORATE HEADS
Gathered around to enslave all his kids
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
1698
’Tis easier to pity those when dead
That which pity previous
Would have saved—
A Tragedy enacted
Secures Applause
That Tragedy enacting
Too seldom does.
2.3k
the unthinkable is our specialty
~
there are special periods of varying length
when we are given grants of capability
where solutions transferable like shared salt drops
and red gummy bears
you need, I believe, and the
no contract is signed and commissioned,
belief is suspended,
for the eyes have the evidence,
the ayes win the nomination,
the shaken but unbreakable longest kiss
secures the deal,
and the local island newspaper banners a headline,
“miracles on the island expand contagiously!”
this is when
this is where
one walks the streets and the dirt roads
sing song smiling,
the tide always incoming,
the peeks of sun
perfectly strong,
installing a feeling
of safe and home and not alone
where is shelter?
*here here,
here is shelter,
hear is shelter,
in words and deeds and on our
embracing fingertips*
9:45am
April 11, 2019
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 3:44 PM UTC
Free falling; gone in an instant-- blink of an eyelash faster than lightning, flashing like brilliance
Drilling holes into the psyche
Astronomical; impeccable aim
Breathtaking colors with patterns like kaleidoscopes the creativity blows the mind
It's the morphine you can take without overdosing in pain and numbness
It's the chase you can't escape if you wanted to but you won't even try
It's the height of ecstasy and the awe of gratification
Its pure and magnetizing invigoration
When you prove what you set out to prove
When you give it all, you have everything to lose
The negative chatter fills the gaps of endurance and credence
The silence of the aftermath, leaves a clear distinctive taste
All the critics and the villains siphon air so you lose the ability to breathe
There is a glimmer, a tiny microorganism still standing on two feet pushing forward
Moving slow
Falling sideways
All, all alone
Glowing, fueling, bursting...flooding roadblocks, causing traffic
All the commotion is seeding havoc
Like an artist left unknown...you will grow
Flow and flower into a masterpiece
And the free fall secures you high amongst the nebula
There is no more spiraling downwards there is only a tiger lurking, always ready to pounce
On their victims, on the goals you've set ahead
Like a real winner always does, you finish first
because you did your very best
You're a tiger and you just earned you your stripes
So leave the amateurs on their soap box discombobulated
You're resilient, even savvy
You're a vision to be reckoned with
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 3:07 AM UTC
I.
Adieu, New-England’s smiling meads,
Adieu, the flow’ry plain:
I leave thine op’ning charms, O spring,
And tempt the roaring main.
II.
In vain for me the flow’rets rise,
And boast their gaudy pride,
While here beneath the northern skies
I mourn for health deny’d.
III.
Celestial maid of rosy hue,
O let me feel thy reign!
I languish till thy face I view,
Thy vanish’d joys regain.
IV.
Susanna mourns, nor can I bear
To see the crystal show’r,
Or mark the tender falling tear
At sad departure’s hour;
V.
Not unregarding can I see
Her soul with grief opprest:
But let no sighs, no groans for me,
Steal from her pensive breast.
VI.
In vain the feather’d warblers sing,
In vain the garden blooms,
And on the ***** of the spring
Breathes out her sweet perfumes.
VII.
While for Britannia’s distant shore
We sweep the liquid plain,
And with astonish’d eyes explore
The wide-extended main.
VIII.
Lo! Health appears! celestial dame!
Complacent and serene,
With Hebe’s mantle o’er her Frame,
With soul-delighting mein.
IX.
To mark the vale where London lies
With misty vapours crown’d,
Which cloud Aurora’s thousand dyes,
And veil her charms around.
X.
Why, Phoebus, moves thy car so slow?
So slow thy rising ray?
Give us the famous town to view,
Thou glorious king of day!
XI.
For thee, Britannia, I resign
New-England’s smiling fields;
To view again her charms divine,
What joy the prospect yields!
XII.
But thou! Temptation hence away,
With all thy fatal train,
Nor once ****** my soul away,
By thine enchanting strain.
XIII.
Thrice happy they, whose heav’nly shield
Secures their souls from harms,
And fell Temptation on the field
Of all its pow’r disarms!
2.1k
Serene solitude
stillness secures mind
freedom from self.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 7:36 AM UTC
A chanter cracked from overuse
Cheeks salt stained from shed tears
Shed for those who lost their lives
Lost well before their years
The piper played for seventeen
Who never saw their best
Amazing Grace hung in the air
While our hearts beat in our chests
The massacre at Dunblane School
took seventeen that day
One teacher and lo, sixteen more
Beneath a sky all streaked with grey
The Pipers lips were dry and cracked
And the salt burned as he cried
but, he played the best he ever played
For the seventeen who died
The world was once their oyster
But, it never saw them grow
If you listen, you can hear him
That lonely piper blow
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace."
When we've been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 6:35 PM UTC
Gentle acceleration secures your every need to lie unbroken
In the midst of the opulence you have found
Prompting the splendor of the arrival of mystical inquiries
Into a tumultuous ocean of feelings unbound
A deluge of fortune revered and proficiently secured
Pours in the radiant warmth of cinder
Polishing the obvious abundance of your need
With moves so unbelievably tender
Unbroken and unbound your intuition refines the spaces
Once only exclusive to a well chosen few
While all knowledge of the mysteries glowing in the cinder
Plunge deeply into the soul of you
You rejoice in the enlightenment of the opulent treasure
Which empowers the depth of the knowing
While watching from the shadows in the back of your mind
Unbroken, unbound and glowing
Jul 1, 2010
Jul 1, 2010 at 7:58 AM UTC
a year secures its legacy
as the moon veils her phase
with light facing inward, reflecting
the passing of life's days,
and an aura
surrounding morning
its all to fated hand
that I often think about, but can seldom
understand - the love
you imparted with the waxing
of a tear - faithfully
a promise, the gift of but one year..
of days and nights as
lovers
an all to fatal vow... now
ending as you take your leave
along with goddess
and her throne, shrouding me
in memory - and standing
all alone....
Dec 20, 2010
Dec 20, 2010 at 7:15 PM UTC
*I love even those parts of you, you yourself despise
I love your darkest corners
I love the shadows that keep you company
I love all the cracks in your soul
I love the pain that strengthens your resolve
I love the shell that secures your tender heart
I love the clouds that make your Sun shine brighter
I love your spirit that erases shades of pain in your surroundings
I love how you give me your peace and joy without noticing that you haven't held onto any for yourself... and you don't mind*
I love how you love me
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 7:16 AM UTC
889
Crisis is a Hair
Toward which the forces creep
Past which forces retrograde
If it come in sleep
To suspend the Breath
Is the most we can
Ignorant is it Life or Death
Nicely balancing.
Let an instant push
Or an Atom press
Or a Circle hesitate
In Circumference
It—may jolt the Hand
That adjusts the Hair
That secures Eternity
From presenting—Here—
1.3k
Morning
Moon
Grey wind
Howls
Sophistication of
Alaska snow even
Buries those holding
Bouquet of rose
The sudden ennui
Kills the burning fire
When partly sunny turns
Mostly cloudy
When the universal hue remains
Silent with a smile
Whose sly portrait
Flashes once in a while
Yet this book of a surrealist
I hold close to my chest
Secures me whose oblivious minds
Attempts to retreat to the west
and the feeble flame of
The spark of a pen
Ignites my depressing hay
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 10:55 AM UTC
Bare feet standing backwards on doctors scales,
the weighing game; I can't make head or tails,
of how I'm here; dragged from my mother's car
Earlier at the charity bazaar;
I slipped & fell on the church floor, & now,
that's just a mere bagatelle anyhow.
Tonight, I just wanted to escape fast
I truly believed this was in my past,
but the Devil & God fight all the time
all that comforts me is a nursery rhyme.
And so, I sang: *All around the pink spire
boys chased girls & ran until one did tire
girls & boys in boxes, the key secures
a bolted lock. True love always endures.* © Sia Jane
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
I cannot sleep at night
I roll in my loneliness
I need comfort
I need warmth
I need my love
The wool blanket that secures me
With it I relax
My own world
My peace
Without the blanker I freeze
My heart freezes
Cracks
Shatters
I lie starring into nothingness
I miss my love
I miss my blanket
Jun 15, 2010
Jun 15, 2010 at 8:57 AM UTC
This is how we know we are alive.
The weighty wind whipping at my weary face,
Begging me.
Whistling me a chorus to dance to.
“I will be your remedy.”
A city of sunflowers,
Endlessly oscillating,
Waving at me.
Their happiness, imminent and palpable.
This is how we know we are alive.
A blanket of rain,
Calm and alleviating.
With no canopy to harbor under;
As each droplet secures my face,
This is how we know we are alive.
And there she is.
Her beautiful voice, like the wind.
Her delicate smile, happy like the flowers.
Her touch; reminiscent of the rain.
This is how I know I am alive.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 10:16 AM UTC
Make love to me until i smell of you
for the next two days
until i no longer feel hunger
Make love to me until I've forgotten English and begin to whisper words that have no meaning
words that only the body of our minds can comprehend
whispering, weeping in a tone that sings the melody that only our spirits recognize
the tune that ensures and secures the locks on our love
safety, protection, harmony
Make love with me
until i remember things you told me years ago
years before I'd ever grabbed hold of your neck the way I do when you
Make love to me
a million times after the millionth time
this is our sacred dance around the holy fire
the one that burns in the center of you
our sun, illuminating every step of our love ritual
and in the background, the moonrise and her shine will overflow as the residual
and that will suffice
in this performing art, we tiptoe
evident mastery
Drenched
in focus
gasping for more
I've got all of your attention
In this moment, we are perfect
effortlessly radiating our beauty
as a soul Union
Make love With me
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 12:39 AM UTC
A sweet little girl won’t give her favorite doll away
Because it’s the one who beside her will stay
It’s the only one who secures her when in pain
A friend who’s always with her until the end of the day
The little girl and her beloved only doll
Is like me and you, my dearest pal
Because without you by my side is like a cream without ice
And just like a jelly that is in two is sliced
You’re the missing piece in my life’s puzzle
Without you my life would be hassle
It’s pretty obvious that I’m not complete without that missing piece
I’ll do anything to take it back to its right place
But since you’re miles away from me now
I only have the hopes to have a glimpse of you one time
I’m really looking forward find my favorite doll since then
Can’t wait to hug you tight and see you smile once again.
© Quenniebells
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 11:23 PM UTC
Its as if you have been captured
by a terrifying but manipulating beast
and every time you begin to escape
its suffocating grasp
it secures you in its hands once again
It gets to the point
where you become so tired of trying
you stop
what's the point?
it is stronger than you are
You're so tired, the idea of putting in an effort
to escape the evil clutch of this pain
seems an impossible concept
all you want to do is rest
rest until one day, the beast will pass
dragging your soul along behind it
You become so used to the pain
sometimes you unravel your skin
with a blade crafted from iron
just to convince yourself that you can still feel
some sort of hurt, because the beast has battered you
so severely, you are certain you can no longer feel a thing
Or we cause harm in other ways
creating bruises instead of cuts, or fierce burn marks
as a way of trying to seek help, as the beast will not let us ask
in anyway other way, he has banished our voices, our sense of self
and to break the spell, first we have to break free
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
She drives up to the old building like she has done every other day for several months.
Turns off the ignition and steps out of the vehicle
As she walks through the automatic doors she wonders at the contrast between modern conveniences and old world antique décor
The building is well over a hundred years of age
And it smells of it
It also smells of paper, tape, business, hopes, dreams, and even devastation
Yes, much passes through this building
She continues on and turns into the first corridor and walks to the very end.
She takes out the key and it feels hard and smooth in her hand
Much like the marble upon which she is standing
She stares at the box her breathing quickening
She inserts the key and twists, thinking to herself that hope is waiting with that little door ajar
But as it turns out hope is just an open wound
Sighing, another little piece of her essence again slowly ebbs out and goes to that place in the building that collects such things
It is what keeps the building strong after all these years
It is what it feeds on
It has been dining on her for months now
Soon there will be naught left of her to consume
She closes her eyes and secures the door, putting the key back into her pocket
Over time disappointment has been slowly becoming the scabs and scars that cover her
Also poisoning her blood
However despair, despair is the antidote
It has her returning every other day, week after week, month after month
As she exits she smells a faint hint of decay and hears a whisper emanate from the building
Softly it says, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here, If you have already abandoned hope, please disregard this notice.”
Ah…but she is already aware that there is no hope, no escape from the never ending torment
But that is ok, she thinks, she likes it here. ~M
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC