"seering" poems
They came in the night- unannounced
Seering pain that tore my heart
This is it, I,m going to die
No wait, ... its just another ****
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 2:22 AM UTC
Two billion years ago
the river we call Colorado
opened a **** in the Kaibab Plateau
sculpting sandstone, granite, and limestone spectra
on the rugged canyon walls -
reflecting the seering Arizona sun.
Millennial torrents scoured the surface.
Juniper and Aspen, torn from the expanding banks,
****** into the river's red-stained vortex.
All the while the restless Colorado,
obedient to gravity's law,
scoured its bed a mile below the rim.
The last dinosaur perished - choked by volcanic soot.
Pangaea rumbled, groaned and split
and an eye-blink ago our African parents
stood to take their first faltering steps.
Their progeny crossed the Bering bridge
roaming south to build stone shelters
tucked against these canyon walls.
Did the Havasupai huddle in fright
of the jagged firelight searing the skies -
pounding the air across the hollows?
And emerging at storm’s end
did they gaze at the rainbow mist
spread over the buttes and valleys?
After dusk, with fires withering to embers,
did they rest supine,
heads pillowed on their arms,
pondering the jewel case universe above?
November, 2006
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
Snatched me up
From a bored volcano
Washed me down
Scrubbed my soul-hole
Of sincere shame,
Rejection and dejection
Knelt down to pray
Before me and the Almighty
Swirling down
Dirt spins in slo-mo
Went down the drain
Echoing choking gasps
Wrapped me warmly
With your eerie love
Filled me up!
As if you don't know
You've won again
Stitched my open heart
Smash a cup
On the floor behind me
Give me a breakdown
Cup of mo-jo
Hot seering pain
My selfish violations
Smelling so tidy
Like a lonesome clown
I give in
Time is so slow -
Ignoring blame,
I linger in consolation
Aug 11, 2012
Aug 11, 2012 at 9:56 AM UTC
The flames were so high, Byron was fighting hard against them, to no avail."Megan"!,"Megan"!, screaming her name, he felt engulfed, and light headed.A thousand thoughts raced through his head, panic, seering pain with every breath he took, call an ambulance, Megan,s screams cut through him like lasers, she was trapped, scared, how must she be feeling right now?
Wood crackled, metal creaked, echos, lights, sirens!
Byron jumped, bolt upright in bed,"O **** SHIT",another nightmare, each one bringing his memory closer to what happened in their cottage they had built together.
Byron was working from Leeds, commuting to Killough, his favourite village in Ireland, well, it had to be, it's where he and Megan had met. He'd planned to run the architecture business from home.HA!, home, where was that?, he wasn't sure anymore.
As Byron strolled into the bathroom, turning on the shower he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.Almost forgetting the scars he had aquired from the fire, those visible reminders that his electrician was skimming from the funds, cutting corners, greedy little ******* The sight was gone from his right eye, and his face bore severe scarring right down to the collar bone. A small price to pay, at least he made it out alive.
He made a mental note to get back to Killough, this very night, to see Megans grave.He'd settle for anything, any reminder of Megan, she was slipping away from him, he couldn't have that, ever...another reason for moving to Killough.
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 7:11 AM UTC
It comes in waves
mid-step
mid-sentence
a rush
it tugs at my gut
and carries me
out to sea
uproots the anchor
of my sanity
and engulfs me
in the memories
that drench every part of me
and just like the tide that washes up, occasionally
wetting the seering sands
just as quickly as it comes,
you are gone
x
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 4:26 AM UTC
Where are you my love
I am wound like a tungsten spring in my waiting
I am consumed by the seering energy of my longing
I am burning in the flames of the fire that I have for you
I scream your name
Into the empty air
Where are you my love
From the very center of my being
From the deep hollow of my core
From the bottom of my soul
I scream your name
Into the empty sky
Where are you my love
With my last ragged breaths
With my remaining strength
With my final words
I scream your name
Into the empty world
Where are you my love
Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 3:47 AM UTC
Seering pain at the back of his throat, he could just make her out through the haze."Megan",Byron wondered if she could hear him, taking a deep breath, he held his arm over his face. He made a bee line straight for Megan, noticing her hand gestures for him to move, never, not without her.
A beam was shooting off sparks in all directions, causing Byron to lose sight for just a second. He felt a crushing pain in his ribs, he fell back trying to steady himself. Then another, and the beam landed between them, exploding into a million fireflies. The heat became unbearable, he was blind, hot, and heart broken."We love you my darling, always"
"And counting back buddy, we go, 10,9,8, and you're slowly coming back, so, 7,6," Byron didn't want to come back, not without her." And 5, Bryon, 4,3, and your eyes are feeling lighter,".He woke to the sense that he'd been crying, his face was wet, he was breathless, and his heart hurt so, so much.
"So, tell me, can you remember why you were clutching your chest buddy?"It all became so clear, it just opened up like a blooming flower, she pushed him! Megan pushed him from the falling beam, causing it to strike her.She, she saved his life!.
Jake sat back in his chair with his hands behind his head and sighed, his job was done. "I love my job", grinning like a cat that got the cream."Drink?". Byron sat up and pursed his face with his hands."Why don't i feel better man?", something was bugging him. Jake stood up and helped Bryon to his feet. "Let's go get that drink buddy, then i'll complete the puzzle for you, you're ready".......
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 8:11 AM UTC
I remember the way you used to look at me, your laugh even when what I said wasn't ever really that funny. You looked at me as if I had something, something that you could never grasp, But something you were desperate to reach.
You told me countless times you wanted to have me forever and that I was the only one you'd ever love. And like every other stupid and young girl in the world at some point in her life, I told you the same thing back without delay...and meant it.
But I look back now on what was and wonder if it was ever really me that you wanted. And I wonder what exactly you were planning to love till the end of your life.
It's funny, I was not planning to change my mind but apparently you were.
It's been 17 months and the run-ins with the family are shorter. The awkward hellos are avoided. The smell of you on your many shirts and sweatshirts is gone. The texts that reek desperation and regret have stopped. You not-so-simply aren't what you were a year and a half ago.
'M'... And there it is, the countless amount of times I've typed in your name to get a glimpse of your life from the outside now leaves me crippled because I only have to type one letter for it all come flooding back.
The nights spent crying, the days I've spent wondering, the lyrics, the poems, the books I've spent time analyzing and the dreams from which I've woken up from where the faint but so real sound of your voice says "I'm ready to try again." Though these are all things that I thought would push me to death, I thank you.
These are times in which I found hope in hopelessness. Because as great as it was and as much as I wanted you back. I know now there's so much more out there, so much you lacked.
If suffering was what it took to find what was meant to be. Put me through the seering pain a thousand times over again because I know I can finally breathe and be truly happy.
Sure, the hurt comes back to sting here and there, but I know now my hope is found in someone even greater than you or I are truly aware.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
That single white light,
a freight train on your track.
Moving at full throttle
and I can't pull it back.
Trying to get so lost,
and leave all that I lack
I rush toward your arms
with chaos at my back.
At full speed, my chaos runs.
Your light can't save me,
before destruction comes.
Why can't you see?
Sweet thrill, darkened laugh.
You are in my way.
No way to pull over.
Night's here, no more day.
Spicy smoke, clinking glass
Chaos riding me hard.
You have to move, please move
or I'll make you scarred.
Burning light, seering dark,
Chaos slices through.
My rules dissolve in whisky,
so complete and nothing new.
Don't stand in my way
with your heart in your eye.
Don't cry if my train
won't stop 'til I die.
At full speed, my chaos runs.
Your light can't save me,
before destruction comes.
Why can't you see?
Could you be that strong?
Keep me from my pain?
Can your heart eyes really stop
My destructive speeding train?
I ran from the familiar,
you can't help me out.
Chaos is my only friend,
til my blood spills out.
Clinking glass, spicy smoke
I laugh in dizzy breaths
You are so much more
I am so much less.
Another sip or maybe a gulp,
water on my glass clings.
What does it matter?
I listen as the ice sings.
tearing me apart at the seams,
reduced to smoking foundation.
I revel in the darkness;
howl to the dark station.
At full speed, my chaos runs.
Your light can't save me,
before destruction comes.
Why can't you see?
Chaos has come...
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 3:39 PM UTC
and i am caught in an anonymous place
somewhere between healing and haunting
between numb and seering with pain
decaying and blooming
somewhere where the future
looks dangerously like an exit sign
and where the broken pieces on the floor
don't quite make a mosaic
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
The tortured cries of passion,
the bodies pain of lust,
the sticky juices of your love,
pure ecstacy in your touch.
Your sensual caress to my body,
the moist feeling of your lips,
given pleasure brought on in love
enlightened by your kiss.
My love, you are my ecstacy.
My heat, my sweat, my passion.
We belong within each other,
our souls, forever fastened.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 4:12 AM UTC
I have a small *** but it's nice.
I'm not your average beauty but a lot of people think I'm pretty. Including my mom, but she'd never tell me that.
My teeth aren't as white as I wish they'd be, but they're still pretty. They're not as straight as I'd like them to be, but my smile is still beautiful.
My ***** aren't as full as I'd like to see, but they're pretty and plump and perky.
I like both men and women, God, women are beautiful, and my relatives are completely against that. I've met my father only once, but it was a grande time and I can cross that off my bucket list.
I'm a contradictory being, because I'm headstrong and confident, but as anxious and self conscious as can be.
I've got a lot to say to the world, but never know how to say it. I'm complicated. I complicate simple things, and over think it all. I'm cold and distant and warm and affectionate, and I'm hard to reach but not because I'm busy; because I rarely have the energy to try to keep up a proper or good enough conversation. I care too much and I shut down. People, even family, hear from me only once in a while, because on those days I am seering with energy and confidence, and most importantly, a lack of concern of if what I'm saying is right, or funny, or good enough. The best way to reach me is to ask for my help, but once I'm done I recede back into the background, where I'm safest. Safest, but most unhappy and unfulfilled. The spotlight is where I belong and it terrifies me because I am not good at being vulnerable and exposed, but I am teaching myself because they will eat me alive if I can't stand against the wolves. You will hear my voice some day, and you'll know it. It will be me. The shy, confident, unimpressive, but ever imposing girl we all saw a few times but never took much notice of. Until I'm ready. Then you won't be able to look away.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 7:57 PM UTC
.
Others would scream,
The burning, the flame—
Such seering cold and hollow
Open grave, if they could ever
Breathe in as the dirt piled on
And the graveyard rushed, fell
To bury all that was, doffed flesh
My torment and pain, of my loss,
A name as even the wind forgot
As it wailed, lost, lone, keening
After banshee had spoken,
No— in my skin, others
Would pray, forgive.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
I was driving in
deep night.
Off the clock,
scrumptiously free.
I believe it was Modest Mouse on the
stereo.
The dim blue backlight mocking the
seering of the moon.
I love driving.
I love driving at night.
I love the buzz of
blurry lights and landmarks
zooming past my windshield,
like a rodent avoiding my bumper.
If I killed one I guess I wouldn't care.
I'd probably keep on driving.
I'd leave its soul to rot in the summer
tar.
Or maybe not,
Maybe I'd get out
into the
snared night,
and assist its little body into the woods...
Depends on how I feel tonight.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC
God,
(I'm not praying, I'm mourning)
It is exactly 1:04 in the morning
and 37 seconds
and I can't even ******* sleep
and there is no one that I can talk to who understands me
because the people that do,
stopped caring when I started trying. . .
I'm writing this here on this piece of paper or computer screen
(whichever you choose)
because I ******* miss you.
And I know that you would yell at me if you heard that word
come out of my mouth
but I would rather you yell
than not say nothing at all. . .
**** **** ******
You're still not yelling so that means you must
really be gone. . .
It's 1:09 now, dad
and 17 seconds
and I have school tomorrow
but I can't sleep because you always ******* haunt my thoughts
and I used to think that I wanted to **** myself
because I thought I could be with you when I die
cause you said we could meet again in heaven,
you remember that, right?
Sure you do, that was one of your
last ****** days on this earth
But now that I don't believe in heaven
or hell
or maybe even God,
what have I got to die for?
In fact, what the hell do I even have to live for?
You're so ******* gone and
it ******* hurts
and maybe it makes me a ****** poet to write
so many curse words in a poem.
You would scold me if you read this.
But you can't read this,
and you're not scolding me
and you're not even ******* here anymore.
You're just gone,
and God,
I need you to hug me and tell me it's all okay
and call me your little girl one last time
and let me see you ******* wasted
off your knockers one last time
and let me come home to find you broke into our house again
and let me listen to you yell at my mother
once more. . .
God, maybe this makes me a bad person
but I would take anything just to have you back.
I ******* miss you. . .
and no matter how hard I try
I can not put down in words the immense
seering pain that I have felt.
It's 1:17 a.m
and who ******* cares about the seconds.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
Loss.
Morbid thoughts collide
Loneliness spreads like flame
Emptiness overwhelms me
Crash. Burn. Stillness.
What was once there
Evaporated Slowly
Acid climbs my throat
Seering scars along the way
But refuses to escape
Like chains around my neck
I'm forced into silence
Like shredded paper
I fall to pieces
Pain.
Screams along the inside
Walls of my mind
Like burning flesh
I lose myself
I unravel and crouch
Into a tiny stone ball
Held tightly by the fierce hands of regret.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
When pain becomes an ocean my brain becomes a boat, i brave the waves that attempt to sink my ship then cope. Sirens sing in foreign places which i cannot see, im lost at sea. Now the cold has frosted me.
I found the voice that vocalized its seering pain by will, for some to find while others grind behind with lacking skill. She spoke with me her words of hearty wisdom helped me rise. I left my ship and ocean to became one with the skys.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
Missing the spark of your flash in the pan
The blinding seering light most quick
I miss
Not the way I'd behave when things would go amiss
No
I miss the fog of war
The flashing flay
And the feeling of victory
That most ignorant bliss
The spark
The flash
The flay is what I miss
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 6:15 PM UTC
A broken heart and seering pain bring words carved of gold and dripping in honey. To attain true art one must either die for it or lose a soul, as the cost of worthless beauty is everything and nothing at all. I hope you know I died for you.
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 4:07 AM UTC