"sharded" poems
I wish I could break
Shatter into a million pieces
Of sharded glass, waiting to be stepped on.
Causing you to bleed wouldn't hurt me
Because I would already be broken.
This universe doesn't give a ****
Whether we're moving
Or camping out on life's sidelines.
The doers, in the end
Meet the same fate as the dreamers.
I want you to break me.
Work me until I fall apart
Until I can't take it anymore.
At least then
I will overdose on my need for perfection
Before I die of it.
You can take my needle from me
Before my heart stops beating.
Before it turns my blue vein black.
Then maybe I can stop craving
Everything that hopes to **** me off.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
My love, my love these shaky Isles
Abandoned in the vast blue seas,
Born in Mesozoic times
When sedimentary oozes ease.
From far Antarctic mountainsides
To windblown dust from Austral plain
They lay in layers thick and deep
Beneath the Tasman Sea's domain.
A thousand million years of ******
Of plate tectonic shear and drift,
Mid oceanic larva seep
Determines continental shift.
Deep magmatic plumes arise
From down within the planet's core
To burst asunder from the crust
As mountain God's volcanic lore.
Ash and larva from the vent
In pyroclastic feirce display,
Obliterate the cold blue sky
Explosively in massive way.
Rooster tails of feiry ash
And bread crust bombs cascade about
Vulcan roars his rage to all
In violent, vast, volcanic route.
Ignimbrite flows from the vent
In sheets a hundred meters deep
The incandescence, from on high,
Would, watching Angels, cause to weep.
Like quicksilver, it cloaks the land
To cover all in burning flow,
To last a million years as sheets
Of sharded rock where 'ere you go.
So the land was born of fire
And bent and twisted by the force
Of upthrust from the great, beneath
And earthquakes felt throughout, of course.
Earthquakes of unearthly fear
Wrack foundation's very base,
Sudden as the artic gale
Unpredictable to face.
So the shaky Isles were born
Here to lie in ocean's vast,
Clad in forest lush and green
Snowclad mountains, rivers fast.
Well kept cities, well kept towns
Population proud and clean,
Beauty all around is felt
Perched atop creation's dream.
So the Shaky Isles exist
Perfect in their place in time,
Perched atop subducting plates
Perched in ignorance sublime.
What's around the corner now?
Who's concerned, who really cares
For Kiwis make the best of now...
The rest remains as chance declares.
Marshalg
Celebrating a love affair with my beautiful New Zealand.
31 August 2012
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 9:32 PM UTC
she bleeds,
hard and dark, bitterwords
and angry scowls,
from the depths of her lazyboy chair.
age has stolen
her laughter, wit and compassion....
pain is her worldy possesion,
it blinds her to all else.
she used to laugh and smile and i miss that, so much,
and i wish that, my boy
would have those memories
but we have become,
the whipping boy,
to her frailty,
her scroogelike attitudes,
her impatience to,
be done with it all....
this is my sacrifice,
my burden,
willingly, lovingly,
shared by my lover and child...
but, oh! somedays,
it is like,
carrying a bag,
overfull,
of sharded glass,
that pierces my back
and stabs at my heart.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
Facing an eternity without you
dispairingly weeping at every moment alone
heart sharded a thousand painful jaggered pieces
forever loving you to the bone.
Frozen in a collage of ghastly images
your final suffering my head disallows me to forget
I feel so guilty for the choices i made
So much love entwined with so many regrets.
I Hold on tightly to the final remnants of you
as heavily hearted i try to climb this thorny hill
the memory of you eternally engraved in me
living with an agonizing hole which will never fill .
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 4:03 PM UTC
Such is the sound–
These hearts are a'breakin'.
Snap.
Only I know that crink in my neck–
that sprainin' a'joints grinding 'gainst disks.
I know how the cold creeks do get in October,
sheets and slabs, it's wet in October.
Listen to those frost-ridden reams underfoot!
Snap.
Cold conversing, I said, "A'hush off. . . Now, now. . . smirk'd, yea-sayin' open an ear–"
Listen to that shard, to them shimmerin' sheets of ice underfoot: Snap.
You'd think them finger-snappin's was some jazz! Jam! Jubilate! Just do it again.
I want an iced, ambient encore; chilled to the bone-core, I grab that glarin' a'glistenin' glass.
The median is near the middle, give that shard a shove, I want to hear it again–
Snap.
That's my kick, my wake-me-not whistle borne of creekwater:
That single soundin' o'shatterin' of sharded sheets,
two halves of a once-whole gripped,
glistenin' a glass singin' as it snaps:
*I, ice, do hiss!
Listen: it's in the hiss, man!
And my snaps sound ballistic
when I break, balletic, in two!*
'Twas a hiss indeed.
that ice does as electricity:
O' it does cry when it cracks,
it does fizzle as it fragments,
it does spark as it splits,
it does bend light between bubbles,
it does melt in my midst,
things do get wet in October.
O' it was by the creek that I told her:
"Such is the sound of two hearts a'breakin'–
'Tis only ice underfoot."
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 2:13 PM UTC
Each breathe, momentary thoughts.... tumble like sand
Beating breathlessly, all the while, in a moment, the dream - shatters!
A bottle of sand. A bottle of sharded pieces beside granules of sand.
The ocean tugs, again, once more, then in a flicker of moments the shard vanished from earth's surface
Pulled out by the oceans current, further, eventually the singular piece of glass sinks below, quietly below - quieter than darkness.
The abyss' dark shadows thicken, envelope the single shard of glass - the only piece left.
As it aimlessly sinks quickly beneath, unable to swim, gravity's weight forcefully leaves the piece no options but to fall into a further kind of darkness.
All the sudden, a swing, a single bounce, and drums beat and their bass of the underworld stings of sorrow and empty screams, the sea bottom was swirling touches of unwelcoming creatures and carnivorous eaters - a whirlwind of fright.
Suddenly the glass is swallowed, gulped up, it wasn't what it expected - it wanted to find its missing pieces and piece back again, but the swalling creature would not allow that dream to happen, ever again.
All it felt was the chomp of heaviness and it didnt move.
The mouth held the glass into shape, other pieces of sand mixed and moved.
What a feeling. Heavy in darkness, quiet, calm, and steady; the piece of the broken bottle was forming inside the mouth of an oyster.
Each day the glass would wait, more sand appeared and it worked away, waiting to be released.
Working to form, making its shape, toiling and forming, years in darkness, all waiting to see the sun once again.
Years in darkness, ousted from others, yet it grew and grew; bigger by the day.
Then mercy came! The day came, that shone in a brilliant manner, blinding and glorious.
The latched closure opened, years later for the single shard, but it was no longer a shard.
A single pearl among the desert of shards, the desert no one could distinguish amongst many shards, but a pearl laying amongst the desert of shards.
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 2:48 PM UTC
Through his ribs
Nestled beside her lungs
There what's mine lies
My hand gently holds
This small scarred creature
War torn and timid
From its countless lashes and beatings
I take it and hold it out away from me
Though it's all that's left
All that's still me
My arms aren't mine not time more
My legs belong to some guy not here
And my skin is from everywhere
What once mine now belongs in the ground
Ransomed to shreds by compassion
Scattered on the breeze caring
The thread that holds my sharded form
Are woven from hate, anger and coals of kindled sadness
Strung with despair
I'm so dead but barely alive
Sadly alive and peacelessly dead
My innocence left hand in hand with my soul that fateful day
Along with one other
As Im dragged by my chains back to my cell of this body
I regretfully coax my pet back into its place
Sew it sadly and safely in place
With ignorance and craving
Then seeps back full of my fear and instinct
It's all I got left as I bite clean the thread
Drop it to never return soon
And continue on this grey and rainy night
With only the Quenching sound of my shoes to keep my sanity
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 9:01 AM UTC
here we are shaking
here we are
a slit to make your jawline,
i dig my fingers through
and find the blood dripping
down my hand to turn
my skin pink. the evening
i left you, the classroom
was cold and you said
at home my reflection is rainbow
spiked and glass sharded in the
bus windows. at home my hands
shake when i pass our streets.
at home i think of the way you'd
look dead and wish it'd happen
soon. your ink skin against paper
thin sheets is what i need.
here i am shaking
here i am
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
The night was cool
the moon was full.
There was no hint
of what was to come.
A nearby asteroid
was perturbed
from its journey
around the Sun.
It hurtled down
toward the Earth.
A billion souls
it put at risk
none but the moon
stood in its path
It struck the moon
a silent blast
because in Space there
is no sound.
Luna shook
but gave no
ground.
A slice of moon was
sharded off
Fragments blasted
here and there
The tides went mad
The seas rose up
The waves raised
in a desperate prayer.
In time the dust would coalesce
into a ring
about our orb
Poets would write
about the ring
which girds our earth,
our Eden home.
Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 8:01 PM UTC
We never spoke the language of soil
These poison loving tears
These seeds are growing nightmares
This cruel green cause
Its only a pain within a writhing mind
Sharpened knives and sharded glass
Even if its my blood that's hoping to fall
I'll bleed forward
The angry road the watching street
The stranger beneath the lamp post
This killing highway
She dies into the future
Its always a war of sleeping stones
And breathing hidden storms
The fires of hell
And a bottle of honey
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 2:00 AM UTC
Ever since I was a child I've listened to the whispers,
Those whispers reverberating within me.
And I've submitted to those whispers during timeless moments of
my life.
And I became a citizen of the Eternal Realm.
And during my forays in the Eternal Kingdom,
I saw a new age soon to dawn upon humanity.
It is the age prophesied so long ago by all religions.
It is the Age Of Aquarius.
It is the Age of Messiah.
It is the the Second Coming for those who believe there was a first.
It is the age I call the Third.
And I saw Jerusalem,
The shining city of Zion atop a hill.
But in the Eternal Kingdom it is not a city of brick and mortar,
It is a city of the spirit's yearning and of effervescent light.
And the whispers lingered within me.
And they proclaimed, with the final trumpeting of a ram's horn,
The coming Third Age,
When all of the Earth will become the city of Zion,
A Jerusalem spread from pole to pole,
And around the great circles of our world.
But before the Third Age can dawn,
Jerusalem, that shining city of Zion atop a hill,
must be gifted to the world,
So that no one nation shall exercise dominion over it,
Only humanity's shared Soul.
Before the messianic age dawns the third temple must be rebuilt,
But all of Jerusalem is that third temple,
And the rebuilding is its gifting to the world.
In the Eternal Kingdom it is not a temple of brick and mortar,
That is just its shadow on the cave's wall.
And once that rebuild comes to pass,
Then the Third Age will explode in all directions,
From out of Jerusalem, ground zero,
And it will ripple across the lands and the waters,
And it will reach every kingdom and every nation.
It will become sharded into our shared soul,
And the Third Age will then dawn.
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 1:29 PM UTC
yes I’m broken
As are you
But my broken is the type of infection that doctors look at and simply say I don’t know
My broken is not able to be fixed
I’m fine to be broken
Broken mirrors have a simplistic beauty to them
As you are my mirror and I am your broken
Trying to fix myself so I don’t take away from your reflection
We are all broken
We are waiting to be told that are cracks are beautiful
And if no one will tell you that your cracks are beautiful
Then tell yourself
Because in this world you must take your broken side and exclaim that it’s your best side
A mirror can’t fix its cracks
And you the knights will never put humor back
So give up on your cracks and accept that art is held in extravagant messes
We are all broken
We are all art
We are all never going to be fixed
Because when you try to fix glass it cracks more
Just ask me
I’m in shards
In shards I lay laughing at the fact that when I was little my family called shards shit-farts
So just thinking that I’m in shards and so broken I can’t get fixed brings some happy memories back
Their happy until I realized one time in the first grade I sharded and had to run to the office for new pants and on the way their I saw my crush
She questioned the smell and I darted for the office
Ironically the next day we started dating
She was my first crush
I say crush cause she left the first crack when she called me out in front of the class “you’re stupid you can’t speak or spell”
You see I had a speech impediment and was ruled out as stupid
Our cracks can run deep
But or words can always run deeper
Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
I killed a man with my bare fingers
his blood like satin
seeping through my jeweled nails
I bit the beating heart of a diamond
whose only wish was
to be loved like her mother never was
I cut open the heart strings
of a forlorn cello
battle worn from the field of shining lights
I made love to the curtains hanging over
your ice sharded chandelier
hoping the heat would cool my soul
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 10:23 AM UTC