"sorrier" poems
She doesn't own a mirror.
Confirmation of her beauty comes from those around her at all times.
Fawning fools adore,
jealous sisters abhor,
but all notice the shine of her hair, the tilt of her lips.
She does not dance.
Her steps lead, and dancers follow with no reasons nor rhymes. They cry:
"Lead me not into temptation",
but in her ministrations,
they ache and beg for her glance, their hearts in her grips.
She does not care for suitors.
Her heart was long ago dulled by the fencing blades of admirers. And yet I
if honest, must admit
that it is a careless abandon, devoid of wit
that begs me join her jousters in mock combat for the privilege of her kiss.
What a porcelain fool, she, to inspire such a heartfelt, bloodtaxed roust.
What sorrier the fool, me, to join in such a sure dealt, unasked joust.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
What She Look Like?
…Like one
tenderly hushing
water in her lap
Elemental peace
No place to go
No more to be
…Like the ocean
in the background
of a photo on a warm spring day
belying
rage
and the random possible
thrash--
out!
at all guilty ******** in her path
Toss in the next sentient soul
who should happen to pass
within range
who should have seen
who should have known
what a storm could do….
Moody in the aftermath
and sorrier than rain
With the tide in retreat
grumbling excuses
Hiding out waist-deep in dusk’s Merlot
Waiting for night to sleep it off
to heal the rifts
cleanse the shame
Rising
yellow, bright— and
“What the hell happened, here?!”
_______________
Her hair
a winter’s tragedy of trees
upside down—
No wait— the wind has put her right
to ragged random branches
swaying, wet with intermittent hues
of dark and silver
caught in collar, flying inelegant and free
at the shoulders of the levee
tossed and softening shyly
sagging jaw and nose a stump of tree
All perspective changes…
if you watch a while—
She’ll raise her eyes
into the sunset
to catch an eagle
entering
flight
…and then you might…
______________
She looks like—
a pudgy robin
querying grass
mud soaked
that hides the fire of her breast
tugging at a worm
more than half her length
“I will feed them, **** you!
Give it up, you son of a snake!”
_______________
...Don’t miss her hour of music though
for anything
Encroaching darkness
from the rooftops
she listens to the hearts she breaks
Remember this in winter
she can give but she will take
it out on February
when you’re longing
for her
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
I am so sorry
that you have had to adapt to your name being "woman"
I am so sorry
that your pleas for help,
are referred to as ********
I am so sorry
that you learned to laugh it off
in the evening after he raised his voice at you
I am so sorry
that you are reminded daily that without him
you wouldn't last in this world
and I am even sorrier
that your son grew up
watching his father speak down to you
because now he treats me
the way you have been treated
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
Today it is snowing,
and redwings are in the holly tree.
Yesterday it snowed
a soft, wet snow
that clung to the bare twigs
of the trees in the park
turning them into mounds
of silver filigree.
The holly tree in my garden,
scarlet berries, dark green leaves,
and branches covered in white
was a picture fit for a Christmas card.
Today also it is snowing,
and redwings are in the holly tree.
They come to my garden
in hard winters
looking for food,
and the berried twigs I would have cut
to decorate the house
will not last long.
A score of beautiful Scandinavian thrushes,
flashing their red underwings
as they flutter in the branches,
will finish the harvest today.
It may not snow tomorrow,
but the frost will preserve the snow
that lies on the trees and gardens.
The redwings will find food for a few days more
from the crab-apples in the back garden
before they move on,
looking for their next meal.
Sorry as I am to lose my holly berries
– for I shall have none to decorate the house –
I shall be sorrier to lose my lovely visitors.
But today it is snowing,
and redwings are in the holly tree.
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 9:30 AM UTC
do you remember that time i had a stomachache and you stayed up all night with me, drawing pictures on a pizza box? or the time tried we to skip rocks and mine would always just sink, sink, sink to the bottom and oh, how retrospectively that irony is killing me. i’d count my summer freckles and we’d try to count your always freckles but it was endless just like the dysphoria catching myself right before i fall. always, me. i’m sorry that i always use the wrong words, and i am sorry that i can’t always pull myself up by my bootstraps. and i’m even sorrier that i can only stutter paradoxes at the most cardinal of moments. instead of lub-dubbing my heart is singing that bittersweet symphony out of tune and it seems a little silly that it all happens like this. and it seems even sillier that i rub these things onto my skin like you’d rub the engraving of a tombstone, to remember that they disappeared but they’ll always haunt you.
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 10:52 PM UTC
you complain about the
(loud constant humming of traffic coming through the bedroom wall at night
i,
sitting on the other side of the bed
facing away from you always
cry
and hear angels cry too.
you,
lost in your busy-city like momentum of thoughts
grumble and remove your shirt
already thinking about the next day
and i think you are a statue.
us in the backyard having picnics featuring saladas and orange juice.
us in the bathroom,
me reading you plath, serious and brooding,
your parents sending us joint birthday cards.
i'm sorry for falling apart.
but you should be sorrier
Mar 15, 2012
Mar 15, 2012 at 1:27 AM UTC
The walk is getting slow
The talk is getting low
The heart is losing flow
its getting harder to see the light at the end...
The trial is getting hard
The devil plays his card
his trump shatters the shard
of my heart in the light at the end...
BOOOOMMMM!!!!
DANGER!!! DANGER!!!!
The warning blares in my mind
A simple way to find
that im trudging in the opposite direction
of my long awaited
never anticipated
always given
salvation
So i turn around...
Blindness...
Warmth...
Love...
Ive been at the portal to the tunnel for so long
and i realize through revelation
that all the light in my past direction
was nothing but a distant reflection
Satan's sorry attempt at misdirection
and my sorrier attempt at self-navigation
I had lost my compass
I had forsaken the plan
I had lost my map
I had forsaken "I CAN"
Now I'm FREE.
I CAN BELIEVE.
I CAN SEE.
I CAN BE.
I CAN.
Jan 12, 2010
Jan 12, 2010 at 6:21 AM UTC
She said she doesn't feel them
So there would be a hard time getting someone to biopsy them
And they're multiple some are hard some are big and theres NOTHING I can do
(Nothing)
Your anxiety was worthless so STOP IT
(Please, stop.)
And even though I'm supposed to feel good-
Like I'm healthy and OK and
Not going to die any second-
I still feel as though they're going to find cancer.
Someday.
And they'll be sorry,
But I'll be sorrier.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
I am my sober side
Not the one you see
Drinking a slow suicide
I am not really me
I am my sorrier side
Not the one you hear shout
Deserving some soap inside
A foul insincere mouth
I am my somber side
Not the one laughing
Ignorant and amused
living In worlds of nothing
I am my depressed side
Not the one you feel
Tickling your fancy down the slide
I hide my face and kneel
I am my repressed side
Not the one you sense
Has hope in Hell on the outside
Of my lily-white fence
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
To whom it may concern
Though there aren't many of you at all.
I am deeply sorry.
Not an apology at all, no.
I am a sorry sort.
One to steer clear of,
You may catch the taint of my
Sorryness.
There are ghosts around me
Of squandered opportunities,
Chances never taken,
Disappointments.
Oh, I am sorry.
I am sorry that I may never meet you,
Though I know that you exist.
I am sorry that we may never find the
Joy that the other can bring
Though I am sure that that joy would be fleeting.
I am sorry that I love you
But sorrier that you have no idea
And that I don't know who you are.
Aug 11, 2012
Aug 11, 2012 at 5:42 PM UTC
This time - things change.
Perhaps change isn't the correct word...they vanish.
The sins and errors: no more.
The tears and pain: non-existant.
You, i do not deserve.
Nevertheless, need you.
And no...to let you go is never, never has been
and never will be, even an option.
To the others i will talk no more.
The others i will see no more.
There wasn't any others...
Just the curiosity of my inhibitions.
**** that human urge!
Oh, **** that human nature!
For sorrier I have never been and the words said now
Are as real as the air we breath.
Thus.
Here i sit, in this lonesome place.
Full of ignorant people who stare at me and feel pity.
Pity! Ha. Not even sympathy.
Yet here i sit.
Writting words that to you, have no meaning.
But here i sit
...still writting
...still grieving.
Thinking of what to say -
only if there was anything to say.
Thinking of what to do -
only if there was anything to do.
Thinking of us -
only if there was any 'us'.
Everything becomes insignificant
if not of yours.
Everything is now nothing.
But what is nothing?
The absense of everything.
And everything?
- is you.
To live on with my life. Impossible.
To act like this doesn't affect me. Impossible.
To let you walk away in pain. Impossible.
To hurt you once more. Impossible.
To listen to the so-called advice. Impossible.
To laugh at the most probable ending. Impossible.
To not love you?
That too, impossible is.
Thus.
Here I stand.
In front of you i will place myself.
My eyes will stare into yours and
(though i'm probably confusing reality with my own fantasy)
in loyalty and bliss we will prevail.
The love will overstep human instincts.
For what we have isn't human
- it's godly.
So here.
One more written promise.
Only this time there isn't a third person to influence.
Only this time, though capable of sharing,
to myself i keep.
The start of a new beginning - if you will.
Because as hard as you may try
to stare at me with disgust and anger,
it's as how much it is visible in your eyes
that you want this 'game' to end as much as i do.
For i still see the love -
and the possible forgiveness.
For i still see
the hope.
True love doesn't vanish into thin air.
It doesn't vanish because of the errors.
As much as you may want to escape from it -
it stays.
And it only grows.
I'm deeply sorry you had to pick the one
that only learns the hardest of ways.
But she does love you.
That - has never been a lie.
It is as much as a lesson to me
as it is to you.
Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 6:06 PM UTC
I'm sorry I lost you trying to find me.
I'm sorry I lost myself trying to find me.
I'm sorry my love hurt you.
But,
I'm even sorrier that my love destroyed me.
I'm sorry because I'm still lost.
Most of all...
I'm sorry you lost you, thinking that you found me.
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 1:08 PM UTC
So scraps are what I have to show
Find myself amidst the undertow
A pathetic pile of perfumed dreams
Like pretending life is greater than it seems
This multiverse molded with illusions and tricks
To knock you down just for kicks
Nothing glamorous about depression
A void that leaves the deepest impression
Feeling like rocks loaded onto my back
As if gravity is out of whack
Attempting to rise off the floor
Each movement leaves muscles sore
Past mistakes written in blood
Try but fail washing away with a flood
So sick and tired staying the same
Doubt and fear the scapegoats to blame
Reasons irrelevant nevertheless
Little extra effort might lead to success
I am aware everything is bound to fall apart
One by one shards will chip off my heart
I attempt reassembling it with some glue
To give it away like deja vu
These choices I cannot explain
Behavior proof I must be insane
Wasting more minutes than I have to spare
Fish out of water and I'm gasping for air
Can't you see I'm drowning?
A sea of my regrets
Ghosts dancing on horizon staring at their silhouettes
I think about years I continue to let slip through my hands
I'm so exhausted chasing answers to a puzzle I don't understand
Scared to admit this the extent of what I'll become
Wonder if I'll ever escape the place that I am from
I yearn to love now like I loved back then
Believe in magic and forever again
But hopeful naivete faded along with the sparkle in my eye
Like while I've been in limbo best opportunities passed me by
In a cerebral cage confidence confined by bars
Self-acceptance shackled by a multitude of scars
I am sorrier than lips will ever audibly speak
Unsure if my dungeon will let me discover the exit I desperately seek
This nightmare of creation darkens at an alarming rate
Need to wake up from this coma I'm in before it is too late
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 1:27 AM UTC
at night I can fall asleep by counting the rolls of fat on my stomach
a steady, calming, everyday weight that doesn't feel as bad as it looks;
but sometimes what I feel seems foreign, and I am restless
because I once had a flat stomach and I can remember how that felt,
almost.
in the mornings I wake up,
get out of bed
and mark the start of each new day with the very first collision of my thighs.
I think that I don't hate my body as much as I should.
I feel sorrier for whoever has to see me like this than I do for myself.
these are things I tell myself; I think I may believe them.
I notice my round stomach trying to escape the waistline of my jeans
I have picked and pulled at the stretchy skin that drowns my arms
I have sat down and gaped at the remarkable resemblance that my thighs have to a pair of lumpy, fleshy, potatoes
somedays I say " it won't look that way when I stand up"
those are good days.
& I remember all of the clothes I have given away to christie
two beautiful coats that I had picked out myself not all that long ago,
and they were loved very much
and worn very little
and they were bought by my mother
two beautiful coats that press my arms so tight that I can't move them
not even to take a drag off my cigarette or unlock my car
they look like they were made for her.
my jim morrison shirt that was black&white;& I bought it at the boardwalk on venice beach out of the back of a pickup truck barely thirty feet from the ocean
my jim morrison shirt that I cut last spring to the midriff and beaded it myself for an hour on my dorm room floor, had my roommate hem it & never wore it again.
it looks like it was made for her.
& there are days when she comes home from the thrift shop,
with full plastic bags of dresses, and lace, and florals, flannels and blouses
and she'll say "lookwhatIgotisntitnice?andofcourse you can wear it too."
and I don't know if she actually means it
sometimes I think she does & I don't know how that makes me feel
and I don't know if she actually means it
but we both know that I'll never ask.
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
Do you remember when everything we had
was just merry go rounds and shared
words and tears
shed over others
over several years
and not between ourselves
when our scars were the shapes
that childishness could still hide
and for the sake of others we put our desires on secret shelves
and we still talked and there were still lines to read between
and hide behind
and we used to walk and together lose our minds
in parking lots sitting in trucks
bad to the bone - thats what those moments were to us-
when windshields scattered tears of the sky,
and as much as we laughed we really wanted to cry-
do you remember when you told me that you get scared in thunderstorms
so i always came to see you when it was raining
do you remember? Before i called you baby?
I still wanna be that, and i am missing it lately
i'm sorry, but i'm sorrier those days escape me.
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 12:58 AM UTC
The windows are barred, and the fire alarm is broken.
Perhaps these measures of safety, are merely a token.
Sent to stoke careful ways, and to make regular patrons.
The note that is in between the staves, is neither here nor there thus are the knaves.
They often play sinners and lure them in with promises, of the outlaws much craved solemnity, thus leading them to their graves.
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
Tear stains through my makeup...
To wake up like this
isn't bliss, it's torture!
on the border line of insanity
Couldn't care less about your vanity
In this moment
I am broken
Broke in two
Broke into my love bank
Empty tank. Sad case.
No love for a fool
For a tool... is what I'm mistaken for
So I lure
forward
Watch my dear
You watch my rear
as I walk away
You will NEVER get another taste
Of me
Delightfully
I'm not afraid
I've played
this game for waaaay to long..
And as time ticks
My mind slips
Into an abyss
And it's tragic
To let go of this
Through your finger tips
I continue to slip
So far down.....
Out of town.
Out of sight.
Right, out of my mind.
Behind this glass of protection
No special detection
of harm needed
The fear was seeded
When you deceived me
no more crying
You stoped trying
So forget tears
I'm a warrior
And you're even sorrier than I expected
I don't regret this
But I AM done!
Like grapes in California sun,
Bouts of drought in the west,
I wish you the best... in life
This is no might
To my delight
I know you can tell
After all of this hell
I'll sail...
Baby this is farewell.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 9:23 PM UTC
Hold me as I sleep tonight,
kiss me as I slip away.
Deep within the the realms of dreams,
lie with me and end today.
Pray for me and my poor soul,
but know I love you more each day,
I'm sorry for the hurt and pain,
sorrier that I can't stay.
That darkness that has followed me,
has failed to bring those brighter days.
I'm sorry that we ever met!,
sorrier that I cant stay.
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
There is no such thing as the perfect writer
Nor a perfect fighter
I take my lighter
and pull a all-nighter
I pulled it in tighter
and became the igniter
I have to shine brighter
I push paste on my copywriter
Add one to wiser
then decipher
look in the nerve fibre
find the survivor
While remaining the conscious driver
You're name is Ivor
The army warrior
The last destroyer
I couldn't be sorrier
For my constructive barrier
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 10:16 AM UTC
as much as i try to brush it off
fake it
and tell them its ok
i now know how much it hurts
and it makes me even sorrier
i shouldn't have done it
that doesn't make it hurt less though
the wounds in my heart sting
like salt on a cut
fire surges through my bones
growing and growing
and warm tears sit wet on my skin
i don't show them to the others
and as i do show myself there is no evidence.
i am strong,
i am happy,
i am finally free...
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC
First chance holds, the sweetest memories,
Shrouded now, in dense regret;
The pain of loss, un-abating,
As in concrete now is set.
I look for you, in all our places,
Remember the times, I loved so much,
But now you’re gone, beyond my reaching,
Never again will I feel your touch.
Your hair was a joy, a revelation,
Your eyes matched, the emerald sea.
Your warmth, a perfumed celebration,
Was there ever a sorrier wretch than me?
I hug my pillows, in the night,
Stretch across sheets, where you used to lie,
Trying to fill, the void inside me,
Anguished tears do I cry.
For your love you gave, without withholding,
Interwoven, with unfailing trust,
Falsely I broke, the covenant between us,
And the love you felt has turned to dust.
Some mornings I wake, reach out for you,
Feel the pain, because you’re not there,
I fantasize, that we cuddle and talk,
And I try and pretend you still care.
My home echoes emptiness, your spirit has flown,
No excuses, can ever set me free.
You don’t need, explanations,
You know I failed you when I first failed me.
So I’m left, with my sorrow,
My emotions still, bleeding raw.
To be with you, and to hold you,
Kiss you love you again once more.
What I did, was so unforgiveable,
So much less than, what you believed could be,
But remember the man, you once thought so much of,
That’s the real one that is me.
Let me prove it, for the rest of my life,
That the situation, led me awry,
Never again, will I ever hurt you,
I will make you happy if you let me try.
My soul reaches out, in longing yearning,
To see your face, at my door,
For your smile your words, to see you dance,
I implore you, won’t you give me…………A Second Chance.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 7:17 PM UTC