"simpler" poems
I want something that I cannot have. I cannot have it because I don't truly know what it is. I've seen it polished and propped as if it were on display and I've heard the stories of how much time and effort it took to make it look as such. But I want it. I want love. I want the idea of it at least.
I want the fights brought about by events simpler and less important than the time we wasted to have them. I want to be pained by the sight of her pain and know that the feeling of knives piercing my chest when I see her cry is there because I would literally drive them there myself, if only to prevent her tears.
I want our laughs to intertwine over the smallest things and our conversations to stretch our minds over the biggest. I want to see you sleep at night and I'll smile because I know that you're finally at peace. And I want you to smile when you wake up because you know that I'm fighting to make your reality better than your dreams.
I want love. I want romantic love, I want crazy love. I want passion. I want to pick you up in my arms and in that brief present get lost in your presence. I want to be in you when I am in you and have you wish that I would stay forever. I want to be in your heart and mind, and I want our love to be torturous and blind.
I just want love. I want the idea of it at least.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 9:20 PM UTC
Your suffering is always greater than mine,
you claim your fears are bigger.
Whine your feelings are better than mine,
insist my feelings are simpler.
Try to laugh my feats away like a joke,
but my will is more forward than yours.
Now don’t expect any warmth from me,
my spirit won’t be ignored.
You think you can quiet my defiance?
But I'm used to standing alone.
Your ego trips never get old
they only harden my resolve.
So you timidly try and silence me,
then make excuses to escape.
‘Cause your wits won't handle me long,
I’m the one you can’t sedate.
Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 9:54 PM UTC
It's so much easier to make the same mistakes
to wage a war upon myself
It's so much simpler to smile in your face
to wish that I were someone else
I'm so **** hurtful
but only to my own skin
I'm worth so much more
but I'll still draw blood again
And when will I let myself go
And when will I push far
And when will It be to late
And when will I stop opening the same scars
It's barely past midnight
Red is all I see
A innocent boy who's shattered
A beautiful catastrophe
But who will help him now
Cause he's still making the same mistakes
But who will fight for his life
When he feels he's nothing but a waste
And when does this war end
Cause I still crave razors against my skin
When I look into the mirror
It's still a reflection I can't withstand
Back at war again
Under your sleeve is the battlefield
A million casualties
Tallied are battles that have healed
Be a warrior
Scar tissue is tougher than regular skin
Be a warrior
Find your strength from within
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
A Birthday Poem for Sally B:
what-matters-can-neither-be-created-or-destroyed
~~~
the principal thing about principles,
like the concept of time,
that in time, with time,
they come to reflect our
immutable essence's own best reflection,
come only, round or square
come only, too little too late
come, too much too soon
so the simpler, the better,
so the matter
of what really matters
needs capture in some
capsulated summary form,
a daily vitamin for the soul
so I thank you for
the gift
of your birthday,
the anibersaryo of a day of naissance,
this one solo, kakaiba,
among the many,
a present presented to the world
*so on this particular day,
we must thank you
for the wonder of wonder
that justifies existence,
for what truly matters
cannot be created or destroyed,
and your matter, mass,
your presence's Grace upon this earth,
graces the hearts of thousands,
today and forevermore
this is what matters and
can never be recreated,
can never be destroyed...
~~~
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 6:15 AM UTC
Senses explode, WWII,
Nuclear warfare on this expanse of bare
Skin supposed to be closed at my age separates,
I let the saltwater seep into this,
Slick. Time passes, hardly passing,
But, oh, how well we move. Dance
Around our icy fire, escape from the pain
Constantly eating, feeding.
We are a buffet of things to harm
Come for another plate, fate.
Do us more harm? No. We will not stand, we can't
When we are in this state of mind. We have no state of mind,
Lust driven creatures, but we can speak. Command, tell me what
You want. You want a simple thing, but so complex.
And I want it, too, but simpler for me. A simple thing, unless thought of.
Believed in, felt deeply in ways not physical.
Arching and deepening, we will not be broken down by a measly
War outside of our windows.
Fire scorching the wooden figures, but we are sheltered by stone.
We have escaped and we are left with a heavy air and the smell
Only we can concoct. Nonexistent fabric leaving traces on my skin and yours, indent.
And your eyes are all I see, even in the dark. I know their color by heart, greenbluegrey-everchanging. But I can figure it out.
Your pupils dilate you know. You look at me and I see them. You seem drugged, dear.
Let me feed your addiction. There are many nuclear weapons left, buried
Throughout the world. We can travel and love,
Never ending.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 7:03 PM UTC
It’s strange to think we fear the darkness
when we are younger,
A form of innocence that we harnessed
I’d much rather prefer.
Now that sounds crazy but hear me out
it’s something that you’ll see,
When innocence is gone you’ll come about
to find it hides in me.
That same darkness resides in you
I dread it’s greater than,
The darkness wrapped around your room
that you feared at age ten.
It’s something that grew inside your mind
and clung to your rib cage,
With every breath you come to find
the wars inside you wage.
It hides in every crevice and corner
bound to your bone marrow,
It tears apart your soul and worse
sometimes it even shows.
So I’d prefer those simpler days
with light came faith and trust,
The flick of a switch can’t keep at bay
the darkness inside all of us.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 10:45 AM UTC
Depression, is a concession of unstable chemicals made from the memories of cruel intentions,
My life is still here plodding along..
But only I hear the sound of my own thoughts like an annoying repetitive song.
I hear that little voice, calm down it says! stop filling your stupid head,
with anxiety a lack of self motivation and such a thing as recreation, only self interrogation and constant ************
I think of ways of ending it.. A rope around my neck?... or a cocktail of prescribed drugs?
I try to find help but no one is willing or the nhs has started billing,
I blame society and the burning of the bras,
things were simpler with our evolutionary past.
Nothing is moving I am stuck,
I feel useless and out of so called ambitious luck.
My patience is wearing and poignant preparations, is it really that necessary?
I just can't be fckd!
Move on, try again and again.
Run away!...
But financially there is no escape!
The cruel beatings,
the childhood ruined by my selfish relatives and a man I fell pregnant with.
Take away the memories..
please take them away before I cry the tears from the river of blood and pain.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
A simpler life
No more anger and strife
In the yard, in the sun
Spinning in gardening fun
A big floppy hat
Sunglasses acrobat
Crisp, refreshing mint juleps
When I finish planting these tulips
Owning a house is dream
A capitalist scheme
Millennial bravado
When you choose avocado
Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 11:11 AM UTC
people find it hard
to believe happiness
because for many,
it’s much more of a myth
or a hazy recollection
than it is something real
and rational and
to be aspired too
love and hope
and dreams
have taken on this air of
imagination
in recent generations
for a brief moment,
they were truly believed in
by the adults
by the people in charge
by the whole wide world
even as everything they knew before
had crumbled and wrecked
to a state beyond
their power to
repair
but it was that desolate place the world was
that drove the people to believe in such fancy
and frivolous thoughts
because if they had not,
the world would’ve withered
and died, like a cow so old
you know there’s no hope
or a flower so far gone
that you don’t mind to let it
wilt
those times went though,
like a leaf upon the wind,
as the children began acting
as the adults and followed
their dreams to a land so
few actually reached
and as the adults saw their failure
and the children saw the adults flee
the belief in love, in hope, in dreams,
in morals, in rites, in traditions, in
togetherness, in family, in belief-
failed
and
sunk
the last tip of the ship leaving the surface
with the first person who believed in the
infomercial
we do not know what we can do
because we do not believe we can
do anything
happiness, as I started this all out with,
is not a bed-time story
it is very real
and it is very
powerful
but in each average person’s life
they get to experience only once
or twice, seeming like a random
occurrence, and thus cementing
in so many people’s minds that
it is
but it is not
happiness comes from knowing how to be happy
it’s not about sacrifice
or faith
or hard-work
or dedication
it’s about knowing who you are,
what the world is,
and how you
can make
the best
of it
this is not some secret art
it is a simple idea:
that happiness can be controlled
and it’s execution is even simpler:
how can I be happy?
how can I be happy,
forever?
Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 8:28 PM UTC
one plus one equals two
just like me and you
but why'd you have to divide your heart
couldn't you give it to me as a whole part?
I used to love math
But now it gives me problems
Literal ones
Couldn't it ask for simpler answers?
I asked why I had to find your x
but you didn't answer y
oh these complicated equations
these numerous fractions
oh yes, fractions and ratios
you gave me a fraction of your heart
yes, just a half and kept the other
just so you could give it to someone else
oh why did math come into my life
WHAT THE HECK WILL I USE IT FOR?
I don't need to use my empty brain
THAT'S WHY THEY MAKE CALCULATORS
I didn't sign up for this
I won't be a mathematician anyway
Oh wait, I lost the point
IT WAS YOU WHO THREW ME AWAY
now I'll just go back to being half of everything I used to be
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 4:43 AM UTC
Minutes go by,
Hours go by,
Days go by,
and there is not one moment when I don't miss you.
No,
I miss the old you.
The one that holds my hand,
and not my heart.
The one that laughs with me,
instead of at me.
The one that only had one girl on his mind,
and that one girl was me.
Someday,
if it were ever possible,
I want to meet the old you,
and teach you how to stay...
The old you.
The much simpler times. The kinder times. The loving times.
I want to go there.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC
this is a series of brief letters to the pieces of my body
dear body,
we don't always work together very well,
but i swear i am trying.
dear hands,
the callouses and crescent moons in your palms
will not be for nothing.
dear knuckles,
aren't you tired of painting yourselves black & blue
every time words fall short of the fire burning behind my sternum?
dear feet,
you know better than to follow roads that lead to dead ends.
there are better places for us to go.
dear eyes,
you have sunken so far into my skull
it shocks me you see anything at all anymore.
you're fixated on shades of gray
but i promise the world will regain its color soon.
dear knees,
stop crawling.
this broken glass is from his bottles.
get up. no more blood.
dear shoulders,
it was never your burden to carry. let it fall,
and try your hardest not to feel guilty.
dear neck,
his hands will never make a home here,
and you are worth more than one night of empty bruises.
dear spine,
stop waiting to be warmed by fingers
that would reach for another body if they could.
dear tears,
do not waste yourselves.
dear ears,
you have been filled with ghost songs for too long.
stop listening for things no one is saying -
it will make life much simpler.
dear mouth,
i know these secrets have been threatening to break my teeth
but please do not open your gates. i am not ready.
dear skin,
we have never been close friends.
i am sorry for the scars.
i am trying to learn how to be comfortable in you.
dear mind,
if i could wish you into an etch-a-sketch
and shake you clean of these bad memories i would.
dear heart,
i hope you can forgive me for being so careless.
i feel how tired you are. rest is on its way.
dear body,
you will one day see a grave,
but it must not be by your own hands.
- m.f.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 6:28 PM UTC
There's a chill in the air and wind 'neath your boots
There's clouds in the sky and trees with roots
If all were to fall onto your crying head,
Would you carry it home or lie down dead?
The strength you have defines your choice
Will you whimper and cry or show your voice?
Through sorrow and pain and happiness and joy
You either run and hide from all those you employ
Or show them what you're made of inside
For what you do becomes who you have to hide
Not what you say with fury or a gentle tone
But the actions you take when you're all alone
When you're down and out, almost recluse
And you feel as if you have no use
If you still get up and challenge yourself
You will become prisoner to no one else
There's a song in the air and dirt 'neath your boots
A song that carries on down to your roots
Back from the days of no chores or worry
When nothing was done in any sort of hurry
You can hear these words in the back of your mind
And it takes you back to a simpler time
These little moments, spontaneous and surreal
Show you how you can always feel
Feel good and joyous even through the worst
When tired and hungry, they give you thirst
These little moments are found throughout life
They can break you free from worldly strife
And these things define who you were before
And change who you are to forever something more
Harkening back to when you were innocent and clean
Can make you try your best to better your scene
Your moments in life are yours to keep
When daydreaming or your lost in sleep
The worst will come and so will the best
The dark before the dawn always sets to the west
You can succumb to the pain that comes with years
Or you can fight back the stress and fight back the tears
Through everything that comes your way
Only you can change how you live out your stay
Others will come and others will leave
But what holds together is what you believe
Strength is within and without you
Within is taken while without is beside you
Hold onto a grain of meaningless sand
And notice how it's light in your hand
Just for that moment it's harmless and vain
But if you hold on forever it builds into pain
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
Are We Playing a game of Chess?
If so this is a stalemate,
You're being so very stale Mate.
How can you determine a winner?
If No One makes the first move,
Or have you moved on to
A more simpler game,
Which requires less intellect
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
I have always
had pride
in my independence
Always made
my own decisions
made my own friends
done my own work
As all others
I learned this
at a young age;
this self-reliance
of sorts
It is freeing
to have freedom
and relieving
to be relieved
of responsibilities
that are not mine
But it is nice
to think of myself
as small
and dependent
on mommy and daddy
because it was a
simpler
time.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
Let’s go way back
To a simpler time.
To our very first chapter:
The summer we were nine.
You were too cool,
And I was too shy.
You didn’t really like me,
Sometimes you made me cry.
It didn’t take long
To outgrow that phase.
We developed a bond
In what seemed like two days.
From hiking adventures
To countless sleepovers,
We conquered the world
And saved snapping turtles.
When times became tough,
You knew just what to say.
My pain was your pain,
You made things okay.
You knew my whole heart;
All the grief, all the joys.
We shared endless phone calls
and complained about boys.
Fast forward to now:
We’re on year twenty-two.
Some things may have changed
But our friendship stayed true.
We’re secure on our own
But we’re stronger together.
I thank God for you,
You’re my best friend forever.
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 5:20 PM UTC
Rudeness is key to a simpler life,
Rudeness is key to a big fat fight,
Rudeness is rude but I find it funny,
Rudeness could be the cause of a good *** of honey.
Rude
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 7:17 AM UTC
The cricket's rhythmic chivalry
slows to Autumn's droning crawl
like an unwound eight-day clock
unconsciously neglected by time
The Sounds of summer that fall silent
are never really noticed until gone
things we often take for granite,
a mistake rendering life benign
Dreams living only in our minds
beheld within, the love that keeps us alive
never caring, never needing to know,
"fifty ways to leave your lover" behind
So many miles spinning faster,
so much weight to weigh you down
it never really was a simpler time
just a window with a different view
Fleeting time may shine like shooting star
an irreverent kind of blinding light come to pass
a different hue of colours cast and sown
an eerie silence may befall unprovoked
As if you found an urgent message
in a bottle drifting through your tides
you can spend the rest a lifetime trying
to catch lightening in that bottle thence
Don't look away from a moment
too long ... in the blink of an eye
it'll all be gone
someone you used to know ... September 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 1:56 PM UTC
Nina Simone, occupying ears singing about bed and dressers.
Sparsely populated
young couple
Interrupted by saying amusements.
Only two stops
I know where to get off
I knew to mind the gap
I'm a responsible citizen
Voter with a valid railcard
Only two stops
Purchased a ticket
Only two stops
I can not throw up in that time
I can not clear my system of over-priced beer
A niche in the market
Exploited in the name of money Making let's just raise them
let's charge extortionate rates for an autoimmune disease
Paying to support a normal drinking culture embedded into the narrative
Growing by in the western world Listening to Nina Simone
Only one stop now you'd never know what life would be like
Without loud pop charts entertaining a few leaving the others yearning the return of ABBA when times were simpler and people cared about Eurovision and illegal music was your own
“Tickets please”
He seems awfully jolly for a late night shit-shift on Arriva Trains Wales
Who's making him work and why's he So ******* happy about it
Real extra effort! Soul sapping in my opinion
Last stop gotta get off.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 3:16 PM UTC
It takes me back
It pulls me close
To itself, I cannot leave
ln my dreams
While I dose
The summer scent of mango tree
I remember well
When we were young
My friend and I hung on its arms,
Cuddling the leaves.
Now remain
Just memories, echoes of a simpler past
The flowers promised
June was close
Summer's sins would be redeemed
By the childhood paradise
Salted raw mango slice
Overarching newborn smiles
Yellow sun on green leaves
Greenish-yellow chrysoberyl
Oasis of the summertime
I remember picking them up
From the rooftop of boyhood-life
Our winged friends came, bees, monkeys too
Attempting another bite
Fond, fond memories
Mother used to cut and bring us mangoes
While I tasted the golden slice
My granny told me stories of
The tree, it stood there when they built this house
When she was eight or nine
This fruit, this taste
Connects this land
Magnifera indica
The secular deity of the mango nation
You cannot begin to understand
The gift of Indian summer
My childhood wrapped in emerald leaves
The whiff, the scent, I transcend
Time;go to an age when all was well
Or at the least, to me it seemed
As I'm taking a bite of this season's last mango
As the golden drops stick to my pubescent stache
I remember a conversation I had
The mango tree
It talked to me
No, I'm not crazy
It was the mango tree
Little things in life
Leave something
Oh!so many memories
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 5:35 PM UTC
From the moment we met on that eventful night,
I've felt something for her unlike I've felt for any other soul.
Her hair was curled, her makeup was neat.
She was beautiful.
She smiled at me a special smile,
And it was that smile I would become accustom to.
She was surrounded by a crowd of exceptional people.
They were a kind of wild and raunchy people I hadn't been exposed to.
Amongst them, she shined like a diamond,
As if she was God and they were all descendants of Lucifer.
I soon became aware that her and I could relate.
Sometimes outcasted by others, we bonded in our strife.
We led similar lives and connected strongly with each other in a friendly, nonromantic way.
Whilst her fellow souls were overflowing with disorder,
We held each other and comforted each other from the unsafe conditions of teenage darkness.
She was misunderstood and so was I.
We were meant to live much simpler lives,
But in our struggle to prosper in what we thought was divine,
We made our lives much more complicated.
She watched me as I drove those familiar roads,
And listened as I talked of my blues.
She empathized with me.
We always got along the best.
Faced with a plethora of teenage hardships,
We always found our way back to sanity.
We always found our way back to each other.
She was everything to me,
And to this day, she still shines like a diamond.
Now, her smile is more than just a smile.
It's a pathway to serenity.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
I grew up ignored.
Not neglected, never abused.
Ignored.
Blithely alone with people unawares of my existence besides them.
They spoke about me as though I were not there, so I learned not to be.
I spoke myself through days that stretched into years.
"Don't draw attention.
Don't speak unless spoken to.
Don't be the interesting one.
They aren't interested in you, anyway."
Siblings stole the spotlight and I let them.
'Being ignored is like being abused, kind of. '
No, not really.
Being ignored is being silent and knowing what happens even though no one else does.
Being the ignored one means that you don't have pressure to achieve; you don't exist.
You are no better
No worse
Nothing at all.
You are nothing at all.
And eventually,
You learn to appreciate that nothing-at-all feeling.
It's freeing.
You don't have to worry about things like looks because you don't get seen.
Scars are ignored because they exist on you.
Making friends, though, is hard.
"How do you share like interests when you've never been important to have any at all?"
I'd ask.
"Figure it out."
I would tell myself.
"You have before."
Take on the skins of people around you.
Be who they want you to be.
Be replaceable in that way that makes you needed.
Simpler than it sounds, really.
Being nothing is so freeing
So calming
So boring
So cold.
And empty.
Like the nothing-at-all you are.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 7:37 PM UTC