"somberly" poems
_hey you
we haven't really talked
in a while
which is funny because
i've memorized every inch of your profile
the softness of your deep eyes
that you hate so much
that i sometimes hate too
lately i just feel so far away from you
pull and tug
tug and pull
why won't you just let me
make your heart full?_
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 2:34 PM UTC
Perhaps, We have a worldview, that has turned a bit myopic.
Perhaps, We need a checkup from a doctor for Our optics,
Perhaps, We need for them to write Us out a new prescription, then
Perhaps, We'd see the truth in life that's written in inscription,
Perhaps, the Earth is weeping somberly, but We don't care to listen,
Perhaps, it warns us of Our doom when global profits are our mission
Perhaps, the World is run by men, whose only drive is for themselves
Perhaps, the few will **** the many, just for monetary wealth,
Perhaps, We're all too blind to understand the implications,
Perhaps, a future fraught with poverty and war is what We're facing
Perhaps, a different train of thought, is faintly running by adjacent,
Perhaps, it's one that wrests its life from the stagnation of complacence
Perhaps, We're living forms of life that have been cast inside a mold
Perhaps, estrangement from each other causes Our Hearts to grow cold
Perhaps, all concentrated power's an illusion, We behold,
Perhaps, We all could take it back, if We'd stop doing what We're told
Perhaps, Our Being is unique, and isn't something predefined,
Perhaps, Our priorities in life should they themselves be redefined,
Perhaps, Our voices are of import, and should not be undermined,
Perhaps, We all should organize, and build a world of new design
Perhaps, it is the Media that keeps Us all divided,
Perhaps, We should act neighborly and strive to be united,
Perhaps, in living as a People, We would find Ourselves delighted, and
Perhaps, We'd change the status quo, if We would only try to fight it.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC
My bf works in Geneva, Switzerland. I go to school in New Haven. We Facetime a lot - but it’s not ideal.
“I wanted to tell you, that it’s been nice.” I told him somberly.
“What do you mean?” He asked after a moment.
“Well,” I began, “You know how I like to go down to the harbor and watch the ocean?” “Yeah,” he answered.
“Well, I was down there this evening and the sun plunged into the sea and it got dark. I think we’re all going to die.”
“Anais, you’re on the east coast,” he reported. “That’s true,” I confirmed (New York’s on the east coast and it’s 60 miles away).
“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west.” He explained. “ocean sunsets only happen on the west coast.”
“Really?’ I said, flabbergasted, “I never noticed that.”
“Yeah,” he reiterated.
“I have a confession,” I admitted, sighing.
“What’s that?” He enquired.
“I made it up, the sun and sea thing,” I admitted.
“For real?” He followed up. “Yeah,” I said. “Why?” he asked.
“Nothing happens, when you’re not here,” I disclosed, “It’s SO dull, I’m dull, I’m afraid of underwhelming you.”
“We’re going to die someday,” he assured me, consolingly.
.
.
songs for this:
I Can’t Remember Love by Anna Hauss
So In Love by k.d. lang
It’s the End of the world as we know it by REM
The end of the world by Skeeter Davis
Apr 20, 2024
Apr 20, 2024 at 9:44 PM UTC
Life's pleasures painfully pass leaving,
Foreign feelings to fulfill my fantasies.
People plagues themselves - profound professionals.
Lonely Love is our generations epidemic.
Mission is to make money and misuse morals,
Serving success somberly on silver spoons.
Indulging in insecurities is hard work,
Dumb decisions is our generations epidemic.
Love is a limp language, lust's legacy is forever,
Trash transcends to trends, don't tech the toddlers.
Confusing emotions corrupt my kindness.
Selling selfishness is our generations epidemic.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
Control
Like love
Is indifferent
To race, color or age
I see upright monkeys
With honed, lunatic, pestilent
Expressions
Around endless corners
living out-
and hosing down somberly-
Frequency dreams
Battery life sputter drains
that whip with sardonic torment-
Beat with blood-bathed smiles
Laughing to slow vertiginous rhythm
in captivating faces
Take, take, take-
To receive such
an empty promise
And I've lost interest
in this silent war
We've constructed
so dizzily
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
The pages dripped,
As so the time of the lover.
What seemed so pure,
Gone the distant time another.
From tears to blood,
Pleased and fitted the seeking lines.
This writing love,
Above all the pure soul he whines.
Somberly eased,
One seeks a fine place to rest on.
Of all chastised,
Left a soul requited and blessed.
Run forgiveness,
Placed heavenly upon his chest.
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 6:51 PM UTC
The words echo in my mind
read a hundred times
Over and over
every parallel burdens me.
I was once captivated by your words,
the uniqueness in your voice
somberly I feel the despair in pressing
every
word
to my lips
I foolishly thought my self a rose,
but only a daisy
in a field
I am.
Cherishing moments of repetition,
Deliberately restated without hesitation.
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
Raw flesh drenched in alcohol
Burning numbing till paralyzed, keeps me still
Power you have over my being, keeps me fearing
Your presence destroys me, shatters me
Feeling naked, inadequate when my eyes see
My reflection's negation in you
Cannot hide anything when you expose all of me
Wounded animal beaten without avail
Knowing, proprietor of my pain
You don't understand my whimper, wail?
My blood being diluted by the sweat of your laborious efforts
Precociously tactful, inhumanly strangling my will
Ever-becoming antithesis to facades, fears, farces in me
Facing scalpels and clamps to my insecurities, my tactics, my pride
Leaving me open not caring if I'll die from exposure
Caring only that you're exposing the real me
I-nvoluntarily l-acerated, o-n the v-erge of e-nding u-ndone
Somberly Always Unsettling Leaving me bare
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
Goodbye to the past
I watch your hands waving
While my heart's ship sails safely
Across the big wide blue
Goodbye pouting rainclouds
I watch you cry somberly for me
Good bye little shadows
I cannot stick around
A glistening sun comes
To say Hello
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
Our house this night is full of life,
both kids up in their rooms.
We're safe and warm from the harrowing storm
with its lightening streaks and booms.
Yet soon I know, both have to go,
to school, to work, to life.
Then this will be an empty nest
with just me and my wife.
How do birds feel, when, freshly fledged,
their young depart forever.
Do they sing more somberly
when the chicks are not together?
We're creatures of habit, like those birds
I see when we're in the park.
I'll catch myself gazing up the stairs
when both their rooms are dark.
Aug 18, 2012
Aug 18, 2012 at 8:39 AM UTC
A decade from now,
My words will only be a carcass even birds won’t want
To pick at anymore.
I won’t be able to keep track of where my similes skip off to,
And maybe I’ll discover later that they crossed the street like a chicken
That wouldn’t know to look both ways,
Causing a six car pileup,
But never making it to the other side of the road as I intended them to.
Maybe my metaphors will age quickly,
And ten years down the road
Their doggy jowls will quiver with one last yawning breath
As they collapse beneath the nearest tree from hip failure
Resting at last beneath a pleasant summer sun.
I don’t like to think about it,
But I’ve entertained the idea
That perhaps I will neglect my words,
Letting all the quatrains pass me by.
Yes, that is how my structured sentences will meet their end:
With no periods
But a blank space
Where your name should be.
I’d like to think that someday
I won’t have this horrible need to write anymore
I’ll describe my perfect days because I want to,
Not to fill this void I made
When I handed out my consonance like candy
And scattered similes in the air like skittles
During that drought we had a while ago
When everything was black and white
And I thought everybody wanted
A taste of the colors I’m made of.
I like to entertain the thought that someday
Someday
People are going to reach back through the decades and excavate my words
And try to find deep meanings beneath all my poetry.
Scholars will slit the throats of my similes,
Claiming there was some philosophical point pumping through the jugular,
And I might laugh somberly [a little] if they do.
They’re going to find the rotted carcasses in the most random of places:
A passenger seat,
The floor by a bathroom,
A stairwell,
Under a tree.
I know that some might try to find the cause of death.
In fact,
I know they will.
But I’d much rather people look for the only reason of birth,
The only meaning behind all my metaphors,
I want these people to catch the quatrains I let pass me by when it hurt too much.
When it hurt too much
To just write-
I love you.
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 4:51 AM UTC
How To Dress For My Funeral
black or white, hot n'pink,
lavender always a fav,
at a fun funeral rave,
lacy or plain, your choice,
tho clean would be nice,
won't matter to me very much,
the color of your underwear.
but do not fail to recall, the dead,
their vision keen, can see all!
funeral gravity rules to be strictly observed,
snickering and giggling to commence in the
back row, when holy pomposity gets uttered,
let it wend its way forward from the aft,
until y'all better be
laughing your ***** off
anyone who chooses to speak,
must commence with words,
"Did ya hear the one about"
or be haunted by my spectral shadow
tickling both feet at midnight, or,
worse yet, reciting this awful poem
in their head, like Henry the Eighth,
I am, I am
perhaps a hora dance might be nice,
a mamba line, butts, holy rolling n'shaking,
past rows of rock n' rolling tombstones, guitar-playing
some Metallica,
while the rabbi intones somberly,
Let's get this party started, gad ******
if my untimely hour should arrive in July,
I humbly request that flip flops be the ped-modality,
if January should be my season
of absence treasoned, use some reason,
please stay home, and let the paid professionals
suffer in fine phony, professional, seasonal frigidity
at the post partum party, should that occur,
I humbly repast request, barbecue be the cuisine,
in the hopes you all recall to place
a generous helping, repeat, generous helping,
inside my sauce- proof pine wood casket,
with extra napkins for the long trip ahead
now these are all post hypnotic, post breathing,
helpful suggestions, not requirements,
but honor or disparage, cry or vent,
curse or bless my perma-absence,
don't matter to me, as long as somebody
reads this manifesto at the festivities, first and last.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 11:44 PM UTC
FIVE geese deploy mysteriously.
Onward proudly with flagstaffs,
Hearses with silver bugles,
Bushels of plum-blossoms dropping
For ten mystic web-feet-
Each his own drum-major,
Each charged with the honor
Of the ancient goose nation,
Each with a nose-length surpassing
The nose-lengths of rival nations.
Somberly, slowly, unimpeachably,
Five geese deploy mysteriously.
1.6k
I like to put my feet up
on the wall
and cross my legs over the tile
it feels comfortable
and smooth
this is my bastion
vast and wet and screaming for
a release. but most often
it's a quiet place
a temple I've built to worship you in
where words echo somberly
invaders demand their boat back
and ask if it floats
it does
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 11:45 AM UTC
The White Lights On The Christmas Tree,
Replace The Summer Sun,
I Remember Our Summer Together,
It Was Probably My Best One
*I've Cared For You--Smiled While I Was Down,
Just So I Could Be Happy With You,
And You--You Just Snarl And Snap,
Make Me Happy You Demand,
And When I Try--You Say I Let You Down,
And As I Write This Tears Climb Up My Throat,
And Blur My Vision,
And I Know--This Isn't Right*
I Was So Excited For The Snow To Come,
Fantasizing About Buliding Snowmen,
And Silently Sipping Hot Cocoa While Snuggling,
But Now, As The Snow Piles,
2-3--And Now 10 Inches,
I Somberly Lay With Paled Skin,
The Last Remnant Of My First Happy Summer Gone,
And With Lips Straight And Firm,
Hair Black As The Coal Eyes Of The Snowman Frosty,
I Wonder--Why Am I Losing Hope For Us?
Because You Ignored Me On Our Anniversary
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 8:41 PM UTC
Yesterday
My classmate died
In a hit
and
run.
I scour the local obituaries,
And yet I cannot find his name.
Though I knew little of him,
I have little reason to forget him.
Perhaps, if I grow older
I will stand at his grave
And somberly ponder
At that epitaph of squandered youth.
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 3:05 PM UTC
I forgot to take my medicine.
Don't freak out, but I forgot to take my pills.
My veins are not swirling and dancing and wait actually the pills probably slow them to stop swirling and dancing so I guess now is the time for said swirling and dancing, is it not?
I can feel a bit of mania in my head, so excited and so alive and so real. I can tell because there goes periods, out the window, never to be remembered or recollected or what was I talking about?
Its twitching and hopping and like Wonderland and here we go, no ashes, just painting the roses red, painting the roses red, here comes the queen of hearts and off there goes my head, we're painting the roses red, until we end up dead.
Am I somberly manic, or maniacally somber or am i even sad? I don't know its just the twitch, I can feel it, so Chesire under my skin, the smile is coming through and my head is racing and my focus is wasting away under the hot spotlight of my own personal theater. Bravo, Grace, take a bow!
Letters and figures and math and language, so different but so funny because people speak both, why do mathematicians not count as fluent in another language, because its certainly foreign to me.
Ooh, I probably should alert the one I never expected, tell him how my head's a twitching and my fingers a fluttering and all of it a maddening. I missed this, I'd hate to admit, with the progress and the productivity and the beauty and the wonder and the land and the magic carpet ride. What land am I in again?
How funny it would be to see an intoxicated me. Am I intoxicated now? I don't know, I act like it but nothing's in my veins to even the pills am I born intoxicated, am I intoxication incarnate, am I addictive, am I a problem?
I like my sweater today, its got words that I love and words that I feel, to be or not to be, that is the question, **** it feels like I'm on fire, my limbs are burning and I am flame reborn. Maybe I should take off my hat and let out some heat, but its a pretty hat and it might feel bad if I ignore it.
Time to go back to busy life, where the life is dull and i am the fire but I love the dullness and the normativity because it involves my wonderland friends and the one I never expected. They make me happy, which lets me fly like this. The flying fire is me.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
I will always love you
Even when the day comes that I am clad in black for you
Somberly shuffling through the aisles to a funeral march
Trying to find an empty church pew
So I can cry to a god that I don’t believe in
Because they are all I have left
Imaginary friends
Because you left before you taught me how to be okay
I cant hear the way your voice sounds anymore
I can’t see the way your hair curled around your cheek
Or your crooked smile when you laughed too hard
I am losing you for a second time
So now I am screaming in my car alone at 3 am
Do you want roses or lilies
Do you want roses or lilies
Do you want roses or lilies
Maybe I will lay thistles on your grave instead
Because your love was the most beautiful thing I ever held
But it raked through my skin to my bones
It tore out my heart with its barbed wire words
The spines stabbing into my veins pumping in broken promises
Baby, Id rather be doing ****** again
Because at least when you overdose you actually die
But with you darling
You left me dancing in a permanent coma
You will never let me give up
You rip me back into consciousness the second I start to let go
Lacing my blood with another empty I love you
That curls into my skin like mercury
Or like lilies
Dependent on how dependent I am on you this relapse.
My words falling like knives
I can never manage to land on
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 2:44 AM UTC
Folding Foes, walk yourself down the Georgian line
Sweet savanna wrap around porches in summer sweat
Crushing companies sipping sweet tea on pedestals above me
Anchored at average is that old adage that it attached to the lattice that they try to get past us.
Nailed shoes to our feet and glued to our seat, living in lies and deceit, trying to force our defeat and to break the decree
Held solemnly,
And somberly,
By you
And by me.
Thee, the only lonely listeners of our own sweet soliloquies
In ripping tides of attention tearing through hate and affection,
Is found a pain never to mention for any chosen direction.
Now our learning gets lost in the lesson.
It started with tension, then moves to intervention, but ends with rejection.
Where now it lends to those friends that tend to your need to mend
Jun 12, 2011
Jun 12, 2011 at 10:28 PM UTC
The darkness fell and never left,
The rain came beating to the ground,
As somberly he looked, bereft,
At Father who made not a sound
And Mother lost to all around,
He made a pledge, an oath of hate,
And ne’er to break his word was he;
Protect all others from this fate,
Not to allow misdeeds to be:
Destroy all wrong that he could see
By taking down immoral men,
By any means and any form
So his days were spent, but then,
His heart still craved for loving; warm
Bodies to interlace, perform -
Almost like a dream she came,
A woman born not of this Earth,
Diana Prince, her given name,
And he knew not of her real worth,
Or of the true place of her birth;
He found himself in lustful daze,
Watching as she flicked her hair,
Smiled in most adoring ways,
He knew this thing he could not share
Thus the two became a pair -
Though both hid a secret deep,
Neither one prepared to say
And both their silence they did keep,
Until the one most momentous day
When fate had its own hand to play;
In mortal danger they were found,
Roped around in knots and ties
By wicked creatures underground,
At last their secrets they described,
Identities they’d dared to hide;
She had her doubts of baring truths,
But knew her lover understood
Why she had been made to choose
Although all that she did was good,
A choice made to evade spilled blood;
He told her of that fearful night
When as a child his parents died
And left him in this world to fight
Alone; in the mansion he’d reside,
His want and need for love denied,
He told of his cape, his helm, and cave,
She of inherent power,
Neither flustered, both were brave
In face of their darkest hour,
And bells rang out from Gotham’s tower
Declaring that now it was time;
The two of them combined must fight,
And brave they fought against the crime,
Cloaked, hidden under dark of night
Until the dawn of morning light;
The end of the battle now was near,
A thousand men lay lost, defeated
And Gotham’s citizens did cheer,
As speedily the rest retreated
The dark of Batman's heart depleted.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 12:54 PM UTC
Wanting you dearly
Needing you clearly
Severely in love
RW Dennen-
Don't cry baby
For I'll be near;
I must go, my journey ends;
so touch and kiss my picture upon the wall
Don't cry baby
All is fine, just journeying and drifting
to a different timeless-time
Don't cry baby
Life begins, beyond the stars,
where spirits sing on high regards
to saddened hearts aching somberly,
like slow breaking hearts and slow breaking waves
upon a tearful saddened sea
Don't cry baby
remember you; remember me;
let beautiful remembrances forever be
about just you alone, alone with me
Don't cry baby
Think of you and think of me;
with two hearts merged into one;
walking hand in hand into infinity...
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 9:29 AM UTC
Your words are painfully beautiful
Enough so to make me weep
My heart is anything but tender
Yet in question, my head spins
I'm loosing sleep
I want to forget everything
It's what i do best
Time's never healed so much as a paper cut
I turn to herbs to get some rest
I continue reading somberly
Overthinking every word
these poems can't be for me
But your heartbreak wasn't absurdly inferred.
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
Every night
around the same late hour
when the world has darkened--
My heart beats somberly on
as I wonder about,
well…
You are the air beneath my wings
but you’ve drifted away--
I don’t blame you.
I need lift off.
Aug 18, 2010
Aug 18, 2010 at 9:35 PM UTC
.
*Clouded skies somberly cascade
upon motionless vistas,
floating unrehearsed melancholy hues
where muted feelings roam
on a spring morning echoing
a weary winter dream
I sit beneath a weeping willow’s
unhurried leaves fluttering
like silent wind chimes,
quietly pacing unheard melodies,
as dandelions seek the sun
now absent reflections in my own tears
And I reminisce of the days when
magnolia petals were our sunrise,
sweetly scenting the virginal dawn
in soft aromatic whispers,
lazily lingering upon our skin
when your smile was my every morning
Now I wait below wilting branches,
listless arches desperately reaching
but never touching the ground,
allowing desolate thoughts to wallow
as the soft earth reclaims me
from an infinite finale in gray*
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 7:16 PM UTC