"spec" poems
When I look into your eyes
There's always that little spec of light
The twinkle that dances on the edge of your pupil
And in that twinkle I can see
That you really do love me
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
I'll beckon the flames to rise again,
Brush off the dust that infests.
Temperature growing with my breathing,
I want every spec of darkness within.
Show me the being you hide inside,
Sadistic and thirsty for pleasure pleading.
Destroy the rage inside my soul,
Dissect what's left for you to soil.
I'll bow my head in understanding,
Lick my lips as you **** me.
This labyrinth of love inspires me,
Hide and seek in fields of flowers...
They say the itch will go away,
I'm raw from anticipation.
Come quickly into my embrace,
It's really the safest place.
Destroy the rage inside my soul,
Burn all that was ever soiled.
I'll bow my head in understanding,
Scream out loud as you **** me.
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 2:43 AM UTC
I am no longer a human.
I am an animal.
An animal who feeds on sadness.
Who thrives for nothing but deep melancholy.
A melancholic, if you wish.
I thrive for the feeling where you feel nothing.
Not even a spec of eagerness or a dash of enthusiasm.
Because at that point, you're suddenly interesting.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 5:09 PM UTC
I consider it
rather optimistic
to view myself
as a small spec
in this large swimming pool
of a universe
because
it only encourages me
to be
bigger
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 11:08 AM UTC
I swirled in a ocean of brown.
Venting in steam.
My drown overlapped by current
On top of current.
I swirled around and around,
swimming in sugary spec.
I once dreamed of dry land.
Loosing my footing on the edge of a spoon.
The top of a pink packet torn off.
Sprinkled on my head.
There was no sense in fighting.
One single serving brewed.
It was exciting to feel myself swirl,
All I'd ever know.
around and around.
All I'd ever know.
The more I drunk the more evident it became.
The here after in addiction.
Sweet in taste.
My skin dipped in heart of something so delicious.
I swirled around in an ocean of brown.
Her eyes.
Never once did it occur that I couldn't gulp them.
I still tried.
Lost forever in Mocha flavored aroma
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 2:43 PM UTC
the lads are in tandem, biking well together
the lads are in tandem, biking well together
such is their dedication, on spec 24/7
such is their dedication, on spec 24/7
such is their dedication, biking well together
on spec 24/7, the lads are in tandem
they've a task to do, preserving their allotment
they've a task to do, preserving their allotment
strength and resources they expend, their energies focused
strength and resources they expend, their energies focused
preserving their allotment, strength and resources they expend
they've a task to do, their energies focused
the territory they range, both seeking thoroughness
the territory they range, both seeking thoroughness
again to-day they're in unison, their labors may yet pay off
again to-day they're in unison, their labors may yet pay off
again to-day they're in unison, both seeking thoroughness
the territory they range, their labors may yet pay off
both seeking thoroughness, they've a task to do
again to-day they're in unison, preserving their allotment
biking well together, they're labors may yet pay off
strength and resources they expend, the territory they range
on spec 24/7, the lads in tandem
such is their dedication, their energies focused
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
Validity is not a virtue;
For it is you
And only you
Who can prove yourself true.
A breathing being-
Only if you want to be anything
But a spec of dust,
Searching for validity
In a society
Which has done nothing for thee.
The real virtue is individuality-
The individual
Is valid enough
For themselves.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
what is a human
but a cosmic spec
of semi-wanderlust
destroying the planet
because they believe
they rule it
while if the human race
ceased to exist
the world would
flourish
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC
I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just "on spec", addressed as follows, "Clancy, of The Overflow".
And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected,
(And I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar)
Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
"Clancy's gone to Queensland droving, and we don't know where he are."
In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy
Gone a-droving "down the Cooper" where the Western drovers go;
As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing,
For the drover's life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.
And the bush hath friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him
In the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,
And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plains extended,
And at night the wond'rous glory of the everlasting stars.
I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall,
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, ***** city
Through the open window floating, spreads its foulness over all
And in place of lowing cattle, I can hear the fiendish rattle
Of the tramways and the buses making hurry down the street,
And the language uninviting of the gutter children fighting,
Comes fitfully and faintly through the ceaseless ***** of feet.
And the hurrying people daunt me, and their pallid faces haunt me
As they shoulder one another in their rush and nervous haste,
With their eager eyes and greedy, and their stunted forms and weedy,
For townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste.
And I somehow rather fancy that I'd like to change with Clancy,
Like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,
While he faced the round eternal of the cash-book and the journal —
But I doubt he'd suit the office, Clancy, of "The Overflow".
3.7k
The sky descended its sapphire pearls from its embellished chalice. The pearls decorated my lonesome face, I stared upwards into the grey heavens of solemnity. I was searching for answers.
I felt nothing as the water rolled off my fingertips, those precious jewels crashed the surface of the decrepit earth. This feeling I so longed for, so begged for, so sought.
Empty like a vessel, I stood and soaked the frequency in, seconds that felt like days, time stopped, it stopped for me. Maybe for once in my life I was in control, this was it.
No pain, no sorrow, I was free. In that moment I bathed. Bathed in the past, as my future filled my lungs, I was drowning in truth.
Baptized from suffering, I was rooted, longing for the gods to purify me. I am a mere spec in the vast void, existing, while life just moves on.
I couldn’t fathom moving on, what good could that bring if nothing in life was guaranteed.
And just like that, the fear crept back in again, and I found myself, back in hell.
Oct 11, 2022
Oct 11, 2022 at 8:54 AM UTC
In Battalion,
Misery is served in a thousand ways.
Misery is served in buckets of rain
and hours of wind.
Unyielding, soul-sucking cold and wet.
Porous jungle boots that invite the frigid water in and soften your feet for a relentless 30 mile march.
Misery is served in a stifling aircraft flying Nap of the Earth.
A nauseating rollercoaster ride that never fails to elicit
chain reaction vomiting from the paratroopers rigged to jump.
Misery is served at pool PT
When your arms and legs feel like lead
and drowning is a better alternative
than the aquatic torture that you’re enduring.
Misery is served during blistering Company runs
led by the Commander
who was a college decathlete.
Runs where the strongest of us
pulled aside, emptied our stomachs,
and rejoined the formation.
Misery is served by no warning alerts
separating families and lovers
for indefinite periods,
sometimes forever.
Misery is served by the Spec 4 Mafia
Unleashing Hell on new Rangers
testing their threshold for ****
Misery is served by road marches, prickly heat,
Black Palm, and sawgrass. It’s served by desert heat,
Arctic cold, and the stench of the world’s worst places.
Misery is served by the loss of brothers in war and training,
gone too soon to join the Great Ranger in the Sky.
Through it all, misery hardened my body and strengthened my soul.
It made me a warrior and ushered me into a Brotherhood that will be with me until we all sit at the great table in Valhalla.
So on this Veteran’s Day
Embrace the ****
Endure the pain
Invite the Misery
For that’s what makes us
Men amongst Men
Rangers Lead The Way.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
I'm only but a tiny fragment of your memory.
Like a spec of dust.
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
Me?
Oh, I'm nothing
I wouldn't even say as nothing as a rock, as a spec of dust, as a worm, as an atom
Because that's still something
But you
You, you, you, you, you
You asked me to tell you something about myself
You who is more than something in my eyes
You are something amazing, gorgeous, bright, exhilarating, lovely, astonishing
You gave me something by asking
Something by looking
By touching
By hearing
By-
By God, by something!
Something!
I'm nothing, but you asked, so I must be something
Feb 3, 2020
Feb 3, 2020 at 1:44 AM UTC
A little birdy told me, hearts and souls are mouldy,
Walk with me, talk with me on this journey of doubt,
You'll question people and you'll question the drought,
of honesty people lie about, because It's time to scout,
For people of kindness on earth,
From birth, I think I've been cursed
It gets worse, as I rap this verse,
I'm trying to explain how life can be complicated,
Because we're all intoxicated, muffled in fumes of disease and fleas that cling onto your skin,
Use the energy within, and repel them this is where your journey will begin,
I've been searching for a moment or a pin, point in time,
When these rhymes and lines will be classed as devine, as I perfect and refine,
I'm just wondering how many times I can assign the same rhyme, so all sit back with a glass of wine, whilst I intertwine every line, lyrics so evil I'm committing a crime, maybe I'll get a statue, maybe a shrine, I need to switch it up so let's all decline, but you'll remember this verse as one of a kind.
Whilst I'm standing still over this hill, I think of moments in life that gave me a thrill,
But I remembered the pain and I remember the chill,
Of the cold dampened hearts that never seemed to spill,
Love or affection, like it's protection they need during the question, should I mention, you never gave me attention,
Like the worlds in one convention and I'm stood outside looking in,
I grin, whilst I use these forces buried within, to show people in verse what I mean, before the planet isn't green, before the seas collapse and wind is no longer a breeze,
We freeze in an ice block, tick Tock, tick Tock we stopped the clock.
But no body hears me so everyone listen up,
Stop what you're doing and please raise a cup,
For stopping global warming and extinction of animals, because we're all valuables on this tiny spec of galaxies,
Yet governments plan strategies, to profit from the tragedies, they keep us all living in fantasies, but strike in catastrophes
So let's help our families and all become one, before we've got none and everything we love and everything we feel is gone,
Putting a bet on the apocalypse, odds are 10 to none,
So hold hands with me now let's rejoice in song!
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 3:51 AM UTC
I find myself free falling
pulled by gravity
watching the ground slowly sneak up on me
and if I knew a way to slow my fall
maybe it would be your arms
that caught my all
but you seem disinterested
distracted by the sky
I'm just another spec of dust
something that's in abundace to find
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
For you knew of the girl whose cheeks were so pink, they'd be mistaken for sweet peas.
And whose skin could be misplaced for dogwood.
Tongue as innocent as the boy that cried wolf,
And eyes as golden as yore.
You knew of that girl, count every school day,
Where she walked through the door, head bowed and heart prayed.
'neath those bangs, whose color is as dark as our breaths, and as shiny as false tree,
Whose eyes--exotic--bluer--bluer than a thumbtack and bluebells set out by sea.
Whose eyes are mismatched by plentiful lips--small as the silver spec on my shoe,
And shimmered 'neath sterile light, as if she kissed the face of Mt. Rushmore, too.
With those high lips and V-line chin, which connected with her pencil neck to her petite body,
No ******* or bottom, with legs as thin as stilts and as blinding as our phones,
She holds the body of a cradle, and sings like a tongue-less canary.
Always kempt and proper--her hair tied back with a lovely noose.
And shoes worry not of dirt--for she never played outside.
Resting 'neath maple-wood trees like a bunny--face and knees tucked by arms, and that's where they reside.
Many boys had asked for her hand in play, but that bunny went deeper--deeper into the flesh hole she burrowed.
"Painfully shy, she was." They said.
And that pain was her devil.
For you knew not the cause of those florid, pink, cheeks.
Whose purpose means nothing but dead machines.
Whose eyes rung bright--struck the world alight,
Yet, they themselves could not see.
For you knew of the girl whose cheeks were so pink, they'd be mistaken for vintage bust,
And whose skin could be misplaced for bile.
Whose eyes mistaken for lust,
And face mistaken for tile.
For you knew of the girl whose cheeks were so pink, they'd be mistaken for heat,
And whose skin could be misplaced for bleach.
For again and again and again, the belt beats.
And hello to endless ******
For if you drew closer and closer--and closer, you see,
Blue waters and purple veins clash--wash again and again 'gainst land--and befit the word: queer.
For if you drew closer and closer--and closer, you see,
Innocence knows no bounds and eyes no longer see flavor,
For if you drew closer and closer--and closer, you see,
Exotic eyes bled--rained--pink--and pink--and pink with grand fervor...!
For sometimes it may frighten you to know,
Not all persons are truly healthy,
even those who you hold truly dear.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 10:21 AM UTC
I want to tell the world of my joys,
I want my confidence to bleed into those I care about.
Let my light be what sparks the world on fire.
I am focused, I am brave, I will not falter.
No longer will I cower, I am a raging force,
A force of good, the spec of hope you drink in your coffee.
My words will ignite the passion in their souls,
Sunshine will sing from my eyes,
With promise of changing the world a smile at a time.
Shake the trees of complacency,
Let these syllables leaping from this page be your first step,
Step into the sunflower laced fantasy world that fills my mind,
The bubble lettered day dreams that drips with optimism.
Pinks, yellows and greens leak out into the desolate grays of this world,
Push passed the mundane repetitive cycles we live in,
Create something with color and vibrancy.
It is here in this state altruism I pull my strength and happiness,
So here my friends,
Borrow my point of view,
taste the delicious strawberries I painted with my tongue.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
Sometimes I stare into the night sky and I realize how small we are.
I look into infinity and
It doesn’t look back because
I am a spec amongst bigger things and smaller things
And life and death are everywhere
And what am I to a universe that
We, humans, the smartest life we know to exist,
Cannot even wrap our brains around?
And then I think about homework.
But how am I supposed to even think about homework
When the sky is always present above our heads
Filled with limitless possibilities that I can get lost in for decades.
I could waste perfect days lying in the grass day dreaming up anything,
But you want me to memorize math equations?
During the day all seems so hopeful and bright.
I think of the way your hair would move in the breeze and
I imagine your big eyes filled with wonder and curiosity
As you stare into the clouds.
Clouds made of the ideas people dream up during class
While their teacher tells them how to cite sources in MLA format.
And at night my fascination with the sky becomes
Less excited and more scared.
I think not of the way your hair would move in the breeze,
But of how your hair would move
While someone else tucked it behind your ear.
And the noise you’d make as they kissed your neck
Crimson lips, swollen with lust.
Somehow the stars don’t give me dreams,
They give me nightmares.
Of you behind my back,
On your back with other women,
Or worse men.
But you’re always there to calm my fears of betrayal
And kiss me back to reality.
This life is one that,
As far as I know, we only live once.
And we can’t waste it getting caught up in the what ifs of the past,
But we can waste it getting caught up in the wonder of what else lies outside of our grasp.
And we should ponder the unanswered questions of the universe
Because when we can’t sleep at night and
We can’t focus in class and
When we are drowning in the stress that comes with the human life,
We can look up at the sky, and remember
That we are all small.
Specs to the universe and
If the ocean can rise and fall with the moon in perfect harmony
And the birds can fly thousands of miles to warmth
And our dogs can always know when it’s time to eat
Without the ability to read clocks,
Then we can always find our way out of these messes we inevitably fall in to.
I never know any of the answers,
But this life is one worth living,
And I’ll spend it trying to figure it all out.
And I’ll never do my homework.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
I admit, I’ve never chosen you.
Falling in love is temporary,
love is a choice.
And I surrender to you.
You’re heart is grandiose.
In search of an asylum,
the delicacy of your love,
softens my core.
Peering into your soul,
through the earthy green
in your eyes, that spec of blood orange
a fire lights inside of you, hungry
to achieve a purpose.
I want to be your motivation,
be your motivator.
We could lose time
but we’d meet back at the equator,
once again, feeding the fire
that lights for you and I.
We’ve survived darkness
time & time again, lost.
In search of that dwindling fire
we find each other, nose to nose.
We are special, We are young, We are beautiful, We are complex,
We are strong.
We are real.
Years spent, trying to navigate
the passion of our love.
We’ve rebelled against time,
against distance...
We are flawed, we are damaged.
But we are stubborn in love.
I hope I’m not too late,
I want a clean slate
I’m not holding back anymore.
For the first time, boo
I choose you.
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 10:35 AM UTC
my conscious,
a spec on the corner of the Polaroid lens,
a heart lost in the reeds of dampened circumstance,
a hydrangea blooming in an untended field,
meditates upon itself
like a child lost
in a superstore.
--
an ocean wave mimics its predecessor
only to fall victim to aspiration.
what will crush upon my tired bones
as they chase sunsets
in a similar search
for meaning
?
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 10:53 PM UTC
There that lives, is a land,
so vast, so big, so wonderfully grand.
Cloaked in fantasy,
in a blaze of illusion,
only minds with eyes may see this fusion.
All that may come to be,
starts with a gland of artistry.
There it dwells,
deep inside,
awaiting to inspire the awakening
of the third eye.
Harbored within,
are worlds with no ends,
and all around matter fails to exist.
Wide minded,
visions of potential beauty,
drain from my lungs
and spew into my eternity.
I am nothing more than
a spec of informational energy.
As my essence retreats
from my body,
I am embraced with the
warmth love of infinity.
Pleasant and soft,
I snuggle up,
just a bit,
enjoying thee evermore bliss,
or whats left of it...
As I come down
from my cloud,
I slip, and loose grip.
Dimensions are fading,
communications are disconnecting,
my ears ring and
sound returns to me,
all that's left of this trip is
water filled eye's and
a better understanding of what
LOVE really is...
Why can't the world be like this???
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
Dark and ordinary mornings start,
with haptic taps from my Apple watch,
and a yawning stretch, way before dawn.
I glance out my window, to check
the weather because that’s the spec
that decides whether, we’re outside
or we’re down to the gym inside.
“Alexa, brew,” I compel my AI
thank God, she understands,
and my Keurig gurgles to life.
I brush the ‘ol tusks and wash my face,
before wiggling into spandex and taking a place
on the bench by the door where our shoes are stored.
When Lisa comes out, stout coffee in hand
she slumps on the bench, with a sleepy pout.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she confides with a yawn,
“I barely closed my eyes - then it was dawn!”
Checking my watch, I haven’t the heart
to say ‘dawn’s a half hour after we start.’
Every morning we rise and jog a five K (3.1mi)
we decided, last year, that it’s the best way
to jump-start our brains and start our day.
Poets write about love, pure and chaste,
and less about morning alarms and toothpaste
but in these moments, the ways we start our day,
can influence our lives in interesting ways
Oct 26, 2023
Oct 26, 2023 at 4:03 PM UTC
1.complete th bridge to the moon started by
Jules Verne and raise the Nautilus..
2.Rebuild the colossus of Rhodes to spec.
3.Take a trip to John Gotti's summer home and split a bottle of Boones
Farm apple wine with him and Emelia.
4. Pull a small sample of bone marrow from Hitlers shriveled corpse for a
Little cloning project that I have been working on.
5.get a head count on all the politicians in the capital who don't consider
Their position a life long free ride with no accountability to the masses..
6. Resurect the cold fusion argument.
7. Run a sub 2 minute mile.
8.kick Tysons but with my right hand tied.
9.mix the perfect martini
10. Start all over again.
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
Choking off people’s assumptions,
I’m not like the enigma.
I may look complicated;
Yet I’m just a small, arduous spec of the universe.
I may give catechisms;
Bet it’s painless to break, if you feel.
I might have a perplexing persona;
But honey, that’s the shadow of your ego.
I was drowning, in the basin of lies called fairy tales.
And I was drunk, in the virtual reality you made.
I let you choke me, with the wine so called love.
I’m awake;
After weeks of being high of your lies,
After months of being high of your manipulating acts,
Bet that’s why you’re making a great actor.
The masks finally ripped of the performer;
The lies, the bitter truth,
Leaving the ego, caught in the act.
Turns out that I can’t differentiate between reality and stage-play.
I can’t find the difference between when you truly do something,
Or when you’re doing your job on the stage.
I have myself questioning about things,
Do actors have feelings? Do actors always manipulate their acts?
I finally read the script;
The deceptive tears, the dishonest sweet words,
And how I’m just a puppet to your puppetry.
Then I realised a thing.
I was not a conundrum.
I was a slave to your ego,
In your stage-play,
And you did great on your show.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 12:50 AM UTC
Wake up.
The moons reflection beckons
for me to tilt my head
upwards.
She smiles glancing at me.
I search the sky for
Taurus.
A zodiac amidst twelve
across a celestial
sphere.
The Enlightened children
seek solace below
her.
I am her daughter. A spec
of dust wishing to
infiltrate
this Earthly realm.
I am a child of the moon
& she is
Earth Mother.
© Sia Jane
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 3:11 PM UTC