"shouldering" poems
These winter trees
cold and shouldering winds
their bending branches unhinge
falling limbs crash and break the snow
further still a secret world of mud and bulbs
that in the spring blooms of tulips and violet mossy lawns
and too, the sun that comes to warm and fills with green the tree arms
this wooded home that breathes with sheltering birdsong.
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
An earth sized boulder
dislodged with the thunder
Unleashing catacombs
of terrestrial darkness
lay compressed beneath it
for a thousand years
The hidden ancients
heard its soul hold forth;
their rumbling silence
― laid bare ―
They heard its voice
rises up with the ears
of a new-born fawn
Beguiling roots,
solid as a rock,
hold together
like dark matter
A soul weight
beyond measure
shouldering the torn
of a divided heart
Heaviness ...
O' the heaviness ―
just a platitude for
what you feel
when it all comes
tumbling down
to the ground
Venerable
times immemorial:
an urging silence
pushing down
to the grave,
trying to unlearn
the things
never known
about the hearts
we leave behind
Jesse Stillwater
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 2:01 PM UTC
Stretching and shouldering night away a sun crouches
to birth black's ousting
by one more empty circle of dark's hollowed pouches
then outs in sparkling showers.
Spangled with myriad star-labour unfolding membranes,
like numberless leaves
dreamers listen to soft serenades as the universe favours
lullaby-songs to deep breathing.
Silvered surface shivers with night-eyes as glittery dust
follows with dart-swift
flight each soul's winged journey while murmuring such
mysteries to those sleeping still.
Glimmers on sightless horizon reveal light's celebration
while untrodden dew
newly writhing in close-capped life waits inertia's frame
stirring to shake before rising.
Piercing the brain time's needle regathers worn threads
and remembers that more
sown seed means now-grown grain needs re-collection
in daylight's mind-aware storage.
Open-eyed, naught is over as hinging on less or more,
sun, with slumber done,
now hurries to open the thin partition between yawns
of torpidity to more hours won.
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 5:12 PM UTC
JOY ... weaving two violet petals for a coat lapel ... painting on a slab of night sky a Christ face ... slipping new brass keys into rusty iron locks and shouldering till at last the door gives and we are in a new room ... forever and ever violet petals, slabs, the Christ face, brass keys and new rooms.
are we near or far?... is there anything else?... who comes back?... and why does love ask nothing and give all? and why is love rare as a tailed comet shaking guesses out of men at telescopes ten feet long? why does the mystery sit with its chin on the lean forearm of women in gray eyes and women in hazel eyes?
are any of these less proud, less important, than a cross-examining lawyer? are any of these less perfect than the front page of a morning newspaper?
the answers are not computed and attested in the back of an arithmetic for the verifications of the lazy
there is no authority in the phone book for us to call and ask the why, the wherefore, and the howbeit it's ... a riddle ... by God.
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I lay here
Wide awake
Like I slept all day
Which I did
Knowing I can't be upset
I knew this would happen
Who am I kidding
I knew it would end the same
The same ****** way
That makes me want to cry
Run and hide in a deep dark whole
Far away from this bed
Where promises were made
Where I thought I was close
But I guess I lied
Said it to make you feel good
Once again shouldering the pain
So now I lay here.
Wide awake
Unsatisfied and confused
Trying to decide who to blame
My over thinking mind
Or wonderful perfect you.
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 2:35 AM UTC
AMONG the bumble-bees in red-top hay, a freckled field of brown-eyed Susans dripping yellow leaves in July,
I read your heart in a book.
And your mouth of blue pansy-I know somewhere I have seen it rain-shattered.
And I have seen a woman with her head flung between her naked knees, and her head held there listening to the sea, the great naked sea shouldering a load of salt.
And the blue ***** mouth sang to the sea:
Mother of God, I'm so little a thing,
Let me sing longer,
Only a little longer.
And the sea shouldered its salt in long gray combers hauling new shapes on the beach sand.
2.3k
Your touch sends a quiver beneath my skin
And I feel a fire burn inside my chest
Your love pours over me, cleansing my sin
I feel the same fire, burn inside your breast
And when a fire burns, it starts to spread
Wrapping around everything you've cherished
I'm engulfed from my toe up to my head
Flames that burn this bright could never perish
Even when low, they're always smoldering
Cold on the outside, warm in the middle
And with all that weight you've been shouldering,
I hope I can heat you up a little
Now when I feel the cold, I lean on you
Feeling warm, enjoying October hues.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 9:19 AM UTC
Shouldering the Load by Himself seemed like toil that He could Easily accomplish. However, The Assignment required at least a Minimum load of that which was EQUAL to One's Body weight! ! " But Child's-Play" He thought, "I can carry my Own Quite Easily ! So,__He signed All the required documents , Applied his Fingerprints in the Appropriate Places, Affixed His Seal and took the Pledge. He then, went over to Stand in the Waiting line for His turn to come ~~ While waiting in Line, it gave Him the Perfect opportunity to Totally review the Upcoming Event ! With Heated Anticipation, WAS how He would LATER describe it ! Just Imagine, To carry the Assigned Load "All by Himself". Should He first Squat with back ***** to get a Better Grip? Should He First put one knee on the ground in front of Him, OR, His foot only, so as to better Stable the Load? He was Really looking forward to this New Adventure, "W O W ", Shouldering the Load ALL by Himself ! This is NEATER than he could ever begin to Imagine. "GEE" He had already moved Up twenty spaces, He MUST be getting Close! Everyone was so Courteous , Absolutely NO Jostling was occurring in the Line. This was,he thought " YEAH, it really was Very Neat!" Maybe, Just Maybe in Attempting his First lift, His feet should be Directly Under His Shoulders ! *Made Sense !~~ The Assignment was to "Shoulder A Load ". Even if He backed under it, His feet could be Directly beneath His Shoulders, That too should Work ! The ULTIMATE Goal could be Achieved, BY GOSH, He could do it ! ! What an Opportunity , He continued to Ponder, as He Moved up another Twenty Spaces. ALL He had to do, was to Shoulder His Own weight ! ALL the Paper work had been put into Action, All the the Necessary Preambles, Done and finished. ALL He had to do WAS, Take On the Task. GEE=Whiz how exciting,,,He was NOW Next in Line! " I, AM NEXT , Good golly Miss Molly, " I AM NEXT" ! As He saw the Task Before Him, A Tugging from His Heart went out for those Behind Him, As the tear formed in His Eye , Should *He-Stay" and help His Friends "SHOULDER A LOAD " .......
Jan 1, 2011
Jan 1, 2011 at 7:03 AM UTC
I lay here
Wide awake
Like I slept all day
Which I did
Knowing I can't be upset
I knew this would happen
Who am I kidding
I knew it would end the same
The same ****** way
That makes me want to cry
Run and hide in a deep dark whole
Far away from this bed
Where promises were made
Where I thought I was close
But I guess I lied
Said it to make you feel good
Once again shouldering the pain
So now I lay here.
Wide awake
Unsatisfied and confused
Trying to decide who to blame
My over thinking mind
Or wonderful perfect you.
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 2:35 AM UTC
*These hands hang down
and my heart droops within;
these feet are tired - my back sags
shouldering so much,
visible and invisible.
Oh Lord, sustain me,
I pray!
Lend me
strength to
continue,
lest I should
fall and not
be able
to get
up.*
...
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
Ah, where to begin, take it from the crown,
And roll down the usual bump of your bouncy hairsanality,
Teasing your cerebrum with every spin,
Then quietly continue along your slender necking with a whisper,
To gently land on the heavy shouldering of your broad world,
Resting a moment to tickle loose those knots of compassion,
Move onward carefully, tiptoe to your pendant earlobes,
Grown wise from listening freely, flirting for a subtle nibble.
Lets swing over to perch on the bow of your maple cheeks,
Held up by the strength of your Ernest smile,
A spring of rose petals on a landscape of pure snow,
Alas, how the rose must envy the radiant hue of your lips,
Now, leap off to the cushion of your ample *****
Perfect for nourishing presents of unique creation,
The pounding of your heart, speaks through, ba-dum ba-dum
Half the necessary beat to a lifelong dance, till death.
Next, a slide down the concave curves, slim fitting to your flawless figure,
To carriage at your slender swinging hips,
The favorite resting place of your healing hands,
Supporting the vertebrae that keeps strong your secure dorsal,
Start at the bottom and slowly shiver up the spine,
Only to shake back down with a relieved sigh, past the seeds of life,
And massage down sturdy legs carrying you through strife,
Come to a rest on the tip of your twinkle toes,
Those shine at the end of your lily starfeet.
With hopes that they’re moving to a compass where I mimic north,
And those bright almond eyes cast their gaze through the pane,
Your visage, making the difference between my dawn and dusk.
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 11:11 PM UTC
You come to fetch me from my work to-night
When supper’s on the table, and we’ll see
If I can leave off burying the white
Soft petals fallen from the apple tree
(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,
Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea);
And go along with you ere you lose sight
Of what you came for and become like me,
Slave to a Springtime passion for the earth.
How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed
On through the watching for that early birth
When, just as the soil tarnishes with ****
The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.
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Hidden in the grey morass out there amidst your workforce
Are Pearls in a lattice work of intricate disguise.
Gems of enlightenment and soldiers of conscience
Who battle with adversities’ regressive, shut eyes.
Clad in the rigging of everyday costume
Hidden to all but the discerning few,
Seeing the gold of the extra steps taken,
And observing initiatives made there for you.
Gold in the form of an everyday worker
One who excels far above average way,
Unrewarded and unacknowledged
Responsibly shouldering this all in his day.
Towering over the mass mediocrity
Holding the strands of a mess of loose ends,
Always dependable, doggedly purposeful
Easily marked as definitive friend.
Driven by his own hard volition
In striving for that extra won mile,
True champion of mans’ Endeavour
Unheralded in his own low profile.
The movers and the shakers all
Fly their flags of self acclaim
But the Pearls of the Unobvious
Shall be this nations’ future fame.
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
24 November 2010
Nov 23, 2010
Nov 23, 2010 at 2:44 PM UTC
the scratch and scrape against my soul
of days gone by, of words unknown
to my ears
the rush of air across my cheek
hair on end, fingers tingling
unsteady footsteps and too much oxygen
all at once
life comes rushing in
life comes rushing in
and i run into hiding
guess i just don't want to be trampled
guess i'm just not ready
to stand up, turn
and join the herd
the back and forth, neither here nor there
seems like the words, the letters
are never in the right order
it all makes sense to my body and logic
but something's off, something's wrong
it's a puzzle i have yet to put together
afraid to set that last piece in
and see the whole picture for what it is
life comes rushing in
and i hold it back
Moses parting those red waters
my hands, pressing on either side
against the **** tide, against the **** grain
against the refrain of harsh truth and soft air
and sweet breath and smooth hands
and familiar sounds
and safety
i'll stay in danger a little while longer
still afraid to feel safe
still afraid to calm down
still afraid to let the Red Sea wash over me
blue skies wavering above
and i blink them away
i'll stay under cloud cover a little while longer
still afraid of the sun's rays
life comes rushing in
and i turn away, holding it at bay
like Atlas, shouldering the weight
but never looking it in the face
neither here nor there
the Red Sea fades away
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 1:16 AM UTC
The heart that beats within me now
Was silent for a while:
Shouldering the guilt of years
And clothed in my denial.
And when, those blurry months ago,
It stirred to life again,
I tried to still my beating heart
The way it was back then.
I should have known, I should have seen
Through my soul's sad disguise;
But ev'ry time I saw the truth
I quickly closed my eyes.
The heartbeat in my shackled chest
Was loud, but I was louder.
Sticking fingers in my ears,
I hummed to quell the doubter.
"Your heart's alive! It beats again!
The fears you loved have faded."
But I felt safe behind the bars
My jailed heart had created.
So, silently, this gentle Trust
That I had never known
Came whisp'ring through to save my heart
Of flesh, and not of stone.
Trust wrapped its arms around me
And lifted up my soul
From depths of blue obscurity
And I gave up control.
I opened up my eyes that day
And though they shone with tears,
The hurting heart inside of me
Felt stronger than those fears.
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 7:02 PM UTC
But this house is so cold,
and the walls are starting to speak.
Cracks in the floor are staring at me.
Shouldering the world, I'm growing so weak.
Though..
There's mud in my veins
and salt on my tongue.
There's songs in my lungs
that have yet to be sung.
Weaker knees have carried worse.
Lesser minds bare the same curse.
But.
They haven't the privilege of watching you dance.
Their wide eyes blind, but mine still in a trance.
I haven't forgotten the amber and honey swirl.
You're still my favorite girl.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
Shred of a man,
shoved into corners,
shouldered through the fight.
Floored by the weight,
of shouldering you,
I shred and I shove you around.
Shoved to the ground,
shred to fragments of a man,
you shoulder your tormented demon.
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 12:44 PM UTC
I feel the wanting
as you are haunting...
my lustful, needy...
greedy..
thoughts
I know I really hadn't ought
to think this way
of things to do when down we lay
and about your warm & rugged arms
keeping me from any harm
I'm swallowed by seductive charms
defenseless you're
whispering the sky my name
know of me ...my secret shame
this need...we share?
words said kerning
we're bothered,
....yearning
I am bare
for you..
I feel a need to share with you
could we face
our darkness together?
on gloomy tides of stormy weather
is written on the Dead Sea Scrolls
a love of two who seem the same,
shared in us our
heart and souls?
I have wandered far looking...
So should we
take a chance and try
instead of always wondering why?
would we
be any good for one another
a raging fire burning
unwanted things unlearning
Could we
find of pure desire
light the lovers hottest fires?
or flames go out we tamper,
smother?
left smoldering
shouldering our way,
and left...
we never learned
ready to rise
and ready to
.....be BURNED?
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 5:05 PM UTC
I wonder what could have possibly gone through the mind of a suicide victim just minutes before they ended their life.
The pain must have been excruciating
Even excruciating seems like a lack of a better, or worse word
They say it's all in the head...
Yeah.
It could've possibly leaked from the brain and straight to the heart
Day by day and all you think about is death
Day day day and all you feel is being trapped in an emotional whirlwind
You're paralyzed from all the thoughts of checking out from the pain
When all you're subconsciously hoping for is salvation and to learn how to smile all over again.
And your heart, my god, your beautiful heart
It ached like a ************
Every. **** Moment.
You lived a sad life and died a sad death.
And there is nothing more saddening
Than the story of a troubled soul.
But who's to say?
Now you're free from the grips of your torments.
While your loved ones are shouldering them for you.
Every. **** Moment.
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 5:55 PM UTC
We shared the same bunk bed
in the tiny Astoria projects apartment
I laugh to myself recalling the 3 AM singing sessions
we crooned right along with the Bradshaw brothers
stocking caps plastered to their heads
doo-wopping on the benches below
beautiful voices framing the cold,
unforgiving, angular brick buildings and ghetto nights
Sis, you were my head pall bearer
shouldering the shoe-box casket
along with an odd collection of project kids
forming a procession up 27th avenue
towards the green steeple church on the hill
solemnly we laid Pixie the cat to rest
“Last Looks” I quipped before lowering the box
she had accidentally slipped out of the window
and was not as lucky as Winston Parks
a young toddler who had fortunately
landed in the bushes
when our newborn twin brothers, Chris and Pat
surprised our parents bringing the count to 5 siblings
I officially became the 2nd mom
a reluctant teen, my head buried in a book
simultaneously rocking a twin carriage and stroller
LOL...seems like only yesterday we were camped out
in apartment #6B planning all sorts of mischief
now there is a pile of little shoes next to my door
and the next generation trudging in
with water pistols, bubbles and coloring books
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 9:13 PM UTC
Voodoo bring me my bow of shining gold,
bring in the arrows of desire!
Bring in the bets, let the signs be told,
brow beat dissent with the Don's ire.
Fortify the power of lucre,
to the pit of ignominy and deceit lure
the bright colts of the game.
For when the pocket is full,
and the roost we rule,
can there be any shame?
I see see and we see see eye
to eye that making money is our right.
I see see do see see bookies on the prowl!
We see see red eye and growl,
shut up or else your projects
we won't bankroll.
I will not cease from all out fight,
the seat of power can't be let out of sight.
The magi devised Strategic Time Out
to earn more dime from TV rights.
Some may bark and others shirk
from shouldering the ***** blame,
the control's still with me, O hark!
You see the club is lame.
Blake, did those giants in ancient times
Stride with honour in the beautiful game?
Did the masters shed blood in the country's name
to let it be sullied today with ugly grime?
The hollow shirts mouthed clichés inane
and the ties sold the game for thirty dimes.
The corridors shake, the mighty quake,
the vassals at last revolt,
what would be left in the wake
are the ashes of the old.
Can it then rise, like the phoenix bird
and make its flight to behold,
or be buried in some other muck
a sordid saga retold!
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC
The hills held their breath
as October came shouldering over them
suspending September's false summer promises
tugging the sodden sky behind
and charging the channels with boisterous foam
Remember your place, the season proclaimed
*I'll lower the sky if I wish
Strip trees to humiliation,
grey their ridiculous colours -
Run
little people,
run
while I crash and scatter my cackling fun!*
A day, a night,
then short relief -
the hills exhale
in pluming cumulus
like colossal conifers bound in snow
pointing at the beleaguered blue
and we, below,
emerge, remembering.
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 12:16 PM UTC
I'm going in there,
the box is locked, but I've been feigning,
shouldering off opportunities,
tormenting
how you lie, how;
you
are too ****
good,
too **** sweet,
for me.
still,
take me with you, please.
how do you manage to,
or, how do I delude myself as,
to get to the matter at hand:
i want
every
last brushstroke
of your co-ordinate skin
surface patch union
in a quilt of
frail, tendre, beauteous,
branching, distant
expansions.
but you're here,
no mind.
ok, so:
you're a forest fire in my
eyes when
I simply glaze through
your
al-
a-
ba-ster domain,
where your heart sits,
still,
contorted,
left, chinese-puzzled, by a boy you, still,
could never hate.
{nobody ever hates anyway, truly} maybe.
{nobody ever loves anyway, truly} I guess I have proof, otherwise.
And I, well,
I could never not love everything.
Whatever it is, makes up you.
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 7:27 AM UTC
Your hazel eyes are like
the amazing, green valley
that glisten in the springtime
breeze where the peaceful,
romantic landscape
flows harmoniously with time.
Your hazel eyes are like
bold, golden sun
that stands in it’s
own grandeur,
surveying the immense nation.
Those hazel eyes
captivate me
as I long to embrace them,
to gaze at their gentle
and glamorous radiance,
their eternal, celestial dynasty.
I adore your hazel eyes,
how they utterly charm me
like the richly brilliant stars.
There are so many innumerable,
vividly intoxicating words
that exist in those seductive hazel eyes.
They are the astonishing pleasures
syncing to my soul,
so spontaneous
shouldering boundless devotion,
interchanging from gorgeous greens
to intriguing browns.
I am love-struck over those hazel eyes,
how they remind me
of the hypnotic and aesthetically
desirable trees,
Oh, how I cherish your hazel eyes.
They are truly a masterpiece.
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 6:06 PM UTC