"spectating" poems
*Once Upon a Time
There was a little Wooden Spool of Yarn
Covered in Layers of Coats
Of Soft Protective Yarn
Protecting its insides
Everyone kept telling
The special Ball of Yarn
How pretty its layers were
How its yarn was prettier than
Any other color on the shelf
And if it fell from the shelf
Its pretty coats would protect it
Except one day it fell from the shelf
Hitting other shelves along the way
And the rest of ***** of Yarn spectating
Stared in disbelief
Because the coats of the Pretty Ball of Yarn
Weren't protecting the
It like they had anticipated
In fact
It had begun unravelling
Becoming Undone
It unwound and unwound
Across the concrete Floor
Yarn stretched like
Lines of a ruined and strewn apart coat
Until all that was left of it
Was a little wooden heart
At the center
The other Yarns of Wool
Stared in disbelief
How could this Yarn of Wool
Survive without his coats of Yarn
"He's broken"
They said
But slowly
Over days
His wooden heart began to grow
So strong that he didn't need a coat
He looked up and said
"This whole time I was wrapped in Cotton Wool
Layers of protection and defense
I couldn't touch the rest of the world
And now the excess is gone
All that is left is my heart
And it might be broken
Because I Broke from the Fall
But now I realize I didn't need
The capes and coats and excess
The wool wasn't me
What is me, is what remains
And now I can touch the rest of the universe
Because
"The heart that breaks open is the heart that can contain the universe" (Melton)
The world broke me open
And it hurt
But I don't want to go back
To being sealed shut from the universe
Even if it hurts at first
Its worth breaking to rebuild
So now I my heart is big enough
To contain the universe"*
~JLH
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 12:45 PM UTC
There is no truth out
when both of them have said
fair share of lies,
who should you believe between them
they both are using you
for rising sympathy
and their greater good
your emotions are played with
it is an acting game
trust them when, and not
we are spectating it
like a tennis match,
but we are the ball,
landing on their bat
thrown across again and again
you are doomed
finding bits of truth in their lies
either way, no one can complain,
it is no easy call.
May 20, 2022
May 20, 2022 at 3:17 PM UTC
I can feel you slipping away from me;
imagine what it’ll be like without you again,
because it’ll be different than not knowing you at all.
As I sit on my bed and write
I can feel the empty place next to me
where you should be playing with your iPod
and cracking jokes,
singing and rolling over on your back with laughter
after we sang a funny lyric.
I’m imagining lying here with you,
discussing and smiling and giggling over
my first kiss, and yours,
but somehow the memory
leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
I’m reliving you and him
and I, the one on the sidelines,
the one spectating while the game is being played.
And I’m not even keeping score, not even waving a flag.
I’m the invisible onlooker, the one who doesn’t want to be there;
the high school student stuck
at a basketball game because they don’t have a ride home.
And no, it doesn’t matter what you tell me,
how much you say that you don’t mean
to leave me out or keep me at bay,
here you are, doing it again and again and again.
And it doesn’t matter how much you apologize,
because I’m starting to get the feeling of being replaced.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 10:29 PM UTC
In the shadows of the walls
where laughter once reverberated
as a symphony of gleeful bliss,
intonational inclines arise in the dark
as dancing phantoms haunt
the smirking silence which dissipates
from the splotched, upended floorboards,
while midnight footprints breathlessly creak,
cradling the demonizing affirmations whispered,
the very ones I knew would never become true.
We stood by, powerlessly spectating
as the love we once shared
gasped for air, red in the face,
its gushing carotid bulging in desperation,
four lungs incinerating themselves
with imminent anticipation
of the death gleaming
just over the horizon,
its violet hues juxtaposing
with the glimmering night skies
of faded constellations comprising the celestial
as moonlit silhouettes waltzed across the water,
a bright cerulean rippling in our presence,
the genesis of a journey unforeseen.
Brutal acceptance rains from my eyes,
a rumbling river that reigns supreme
over the rounded stones stacked high
as a towering dam of branches and rubble,
leftover waste long forgotten and forlorn;
hometown fantasies of childhood memories
linger longer than our lost loyalty,
liberating me from the rusted chains
you'd stapled into my brittle bones,
a leash tied tightly around my throat
to **** me from my courageous caution
back into the splintered wheel
dictating our selfish agendas,
empty promises of dilapidated affirmations
now turned weary and worn
with this newfound sense of reflection,
a dichotomy depicting time's own passage,
the consequence of a metamorphic resolution
of open wounds blossoming into eroded scars.
Futuristic visions of lesions now mended
seamlessly fuse with renewed self-reception,
your broken promises stitched with the threads
ripped from the capillaries comprising my core,
blood-stained carpet of scarlet and crimson
fading into an aged and weathered maroon,
never truly waning in its acquainted pigment
yet blossoming into a stained fabric
portraying the promises of the past,
of decayed ruins now industriously erected
into a radiant utopia of gallant, rubious valor,
the final product of an unyielding resolve
to have our story rewritten, our own steadfast evolution.
Jan 6, 2024
Jan 6, 2024 at 6:24 PM UTC
shimmering face
dewy eyes
trembling lips
shivering thighs
toeing the edge;
the poverty line
devotion or obsession?
i need a sign
thrilling fall
death’s chase
spectating
his heart’s haste
rush to the drop
i go in your place
twin pools of red
a championless race
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 5:57 PM UTC
I am a demon within the meek and fatally wounded
There is no innocent blood
All that is spilled is the red liquid of sin
Killing is no joy but a necessity
But all is well
For we are all mad after all
Let us dissect our insanity
Puncture the jugular of fear
Feral children’s muffled cries for mercy
We’re all in on it
Hypnotic insomnia
Open eyed moonlit wanderings
Spectating the impending doom is the ever diligent, all knowing entity
We’re all on the clock
The chopping block
Alone and startled
Exercising the eternal devourer of souls
The flesh of Beelzebub
The ones from under the bed, in the closet within your head
With the expressionless faces and evil eyes
The omnipotent offspring who has visions of the undead
Urging it to join
A noose, how romantic
Lovingly and creatively carving out your innards
Neglect was the cause for this uproar
And now no one’s safe
Next in line to be spat out of hell
Laughing
Laughing, whispering what little they can
Piecing together fragments of the soul
Brain bashing nightmares and legendary agony
Squealing sacrifices from burning webbed chambers of torture
The tearing your skin
Flowing of tears
Followed by the pursuit of death and its arrival
It’s here
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
i'm not really sure that i'm alive
i know that blood pumps through me
and that my heart pulses
but i'm only spectating
sometimes i can't even see
and it's blurry
sometimes i can't even feel
and i'm floating
sometimes i can't even think
and i'm foggy
so what am i?
a ghost of the child i was years ago?
the decomposing remains of my innocence?
a shell of what i should be?
the last piece of being that i am before i fully dissolve?
a detachment of my fragile body?
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 9:49 AM UTC
It’s a MAD dash when you’re fleeing
through charring flames,
a haniss act as the flames boil over and spill,
rivers spewing from the windows
gaped open wide like screaming jaws.
Smoke bellowing,
chanted shrieks and harrowing screams
fanning flame with the flaccid breath of the young,
just hopelessly I’ll bring a new worldly suffering.
It’s but the glistening flicker of the bright blaze
and flamboyant gleam
scaving about my slithering grin.
My eyes smeared and polished,
a senseless joy embedded beneath them,
as house to building,
innocent to sinnly collapse bathed to ash.
It’s but MAD,
watching a maniac
watch a maniac
which just happens to be you.
Fleshly clothed,
spectating the world’s ******
into the salivating mouth of the flames,
tis but a hospital or an orphanage,
a school to a home.
The memory of the twinge and tickle of
a match head flame spiders about the finger tips,
pawing at the urge.
One more blazing build couldn’t hurt.
Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:18 AM UTC
With a smile on your mouth
I see the evening breathing out
Calling my long lost name
And while I don't you recall
I hear you whisper, while I fall
Pouring memories down the drain
I tried to make you understand
You need to leave wonderland
The lion still kills without claws
But you crashed with the reality
Leaving strangers with serenity
Drowning in the final applause
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 3:08 PM UTC
He was all he could be
All he ever wanted to be
Spectating society
From the back seat
Of the two fifty three
Watching himself biking
Through the street
Happily climbing
Up the trees
Writing poetry
And smoking ****
He was exactly
Where he intendid to be
[Apart from me]
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 10:53 PM UTC
surveying, spectating, struggling
with high ceiling tire swing sets on midsummer daydream i fell asleep on a plastic wrapped hammock in string bean circuit space too much junk jamming our brains with thigh high fiber rich and mold free savings or servings or sweet sugar taken twice daily
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 6:28 PM UTC
lately it feels like i'm not real
all i am is a set of sleepy eyes and an airy mind
spectating and thinking
my body floats when i walk
the only thing weighing me down are my thoughts
i hold the flame up to my bony wrist
sear my skin
leave a rusty mark
that reminds me of how
i can't feel anything anymore
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 6:08 AM UTC
Batteries of the skies;
booming thunders, and so are you.
You, the whirlwind the most ferocious,
befit such name ever notorious—
ever in a strife of your own
seemingly unending.
The whirlwind strikes hard
and fast, and as such; angels of death
descending, striking from the faint heavens
to accomplish its sole purpose, destructive in nature,
beseeching its everlasting glory
that’d evoke the sun’s jealousy, even.
Alas! You carry out the task
that spares none of the land,
taking away the dearest one from another, weeping,
flipping cars and engines from where they're standing,
while plucking out the road signs once robust
and even the trees once deemed so ancient—
none is spared but wrecked
before the might of the whirlwind
the total annihilation being its sole identity—
the one that destroys in the name of thy honor
and in the very name of glory in vain.
You look around—
only to see none has survived
or has been left alive; spectating
the empty earth and the water
while being dispersed, scattered amidst the air,
lifted by the hands of thy maker
disappearing—joining the void specters,
and thus befitting the word, truly,
the vainglory.
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 6:57 AM UTC
Imagine you've cut a cake five or six times, each slice having the same color, however, a different shade.
Now replace the cake with sides of oneself.
Now Replace oneself with Me; I am that cake.
The me that is of a higher mind, which I consider my conscious.
I have a side of me that only manifests when drunk.
A side of me that only manifests when high.
The me who is sober.
The me that represents my thinking.
And then there is him, Malum.
The darkest slice of the cake. He lurks, spectating, snickering...planning.
He's the voice in my head that wishes I were dead...so that he could swallow my vessel and turn it into his own.
He and I have a contract; I am to control and maintain my body, so long as I never been put into a full-on life-or-death position, or I am not mentally sacrificial.
I've witnessed potential realities in which he had control...and it's terrifying.
I hope he never gets out.
I am not afraid to fight, because I fear failure; I am afraid of Malum and what he will do. He is not human...and he definitely doesn't fight for humanity.
He is the me that wanted the world to burn...and he still does. He has no empathy, no sympathy, and he craves destruction. He's calculated, analytical, and he lacks love. He is pure evil...and he is waiting.
He is waiting for me to die.
So that he can swallow me alive, and turn the world upside down.
Jun 26, 2020
Jun 26, 2020 at 5:23 PM UTC
I love you when you're you. I love watching when you don't expect,
My eyes observing every inch of you, Like the lovely spots upon your neck.
Those beautiful nails upon your fingertips, And the adorable spot beneath your eye.
I love the tired face after you yawn, And how your beauty shines when you don't try.
I love watching you bite your finger nails, And as you play with your glistening hair.
I love spectating your every actions And how you act when I'm not there.
I love when your bangs cover your face, and then how you casually lift,
Your delicate right arm to uncover those lovely gazing hazel gifts.
Your eyes are capable of euphoria that can put happiness in the air.
Or can cause pure devastation, all in one simple glare.
I stare in fascination with each movement that you make.
Your very existence steals my breath away, and delivers more than I can take.
I love watching your lips call me Baby, and hearing your voice when you say it.
I want to let you know how I'm crazy for you in words, but Idk how to convey it.
So I write down these feelings, Just to give you a tiny view.
Of my utter fascination with simply everything you do.
So when you catch me staring, It shouldn't be a surprise.
I'm just making great use of my vision, by loving you with my eyes.
Aug 14, 2011
Aug 14, 2011 at 6:49 PM UTC
Work, eat, sleep, death.
Is that what it’s all about?
Just treading water every day.
Counting breaths til time runs out.
Life, laugh, love, live.
Accepting and forgiving.
Isn’t that the way that life should be?
Not spectating but really living.
Oct 8, 2010
Oct 8, 2010 at 10:58 AM UTC
Rappin like I'm strappin. Cause every time I rhyme it's a crime of passion. Directing these words to take action, splitting these ******** into fractions. Killing wack rappers for your satisfaction.
Bring back that boom bap for a new vibration. Cause we need to move this nation that slowing to stagnation. These new spitters have no inspiration. No words for the kids that spectating, they raise kids into self hating, unappreciating the knowledge awaiting.
You see.
My reason for breathing is to keep you believing in the dreaming worth seeing.
Rhyming to those who need some healing. The children need to know its ok to have feelings.
There's a king or queen in these young beings.
But you teach em to struggle from the beginning.
But I preach the hustles O.G. meaning.
Teach em your mental muscle out weighs and out pays dope dealing.
That when you die the last thing you take is your with your *** is cash and bling bling.
Teach these kids to run with no legs... Lil tink tink. So dont close your eyes, life passes by in a half blink.
**** conforming I'm preforming to make them think.
This country is not weak we're just on the brink of finding that missing link to confirm the only belief... wich is love, and only our love should reign from above. One love is the riches of all lives, from saints to thugs and that's because...
you matter, I matter, matter of fact we are all made of matter, and equality is still a missing factor. This country was built from immigrants, and it's insignificance has lead to neglence and ignorance. But our omnipresence could be start of our new independence, get out the past and rise up to the present. We have a presence that could change us from the accused to the defendants.
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 7:46 PM UTC
The sounds of speedboats racing,
white, foamy lines in the water, tracing.
The stars above peer through the clouds,
spectating through mysterious shrouds.
The hustle and bustle of the city - died down,
by the waterfront - an absence of sound.
Not a man, woman nor child,
cat, dog nor creature wild.
Alone with my thoughts,
almost distraught.
You cross my mind
bitter, mean and unkind.
Epiphany strikes and I realize,
you were nothing more than a wolf in disguise.
© 2017 José
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 1:58 AM UTC
Words crashing around,
But not coming around,
Time with you, running,
That which im trying to hold on to,
To tell you all about and everything about,but you? You are cunning,
Playing countering as if we're at a war,
No, darling even if everything's fare in love and war,
But we're at love atleast i am,
Pursuing you with false hopes,
Only thinking to my self,
Stuck and froze to myself,at exaCt same spot,that you put me on,its not what i wanna blame you for,
But you are to be blamed,as
I am getting punished,
Getting bullied and cherishing these moments of events or thoughts,
By myself.which of course are mine ,
Even though i want you in each every seconds of these hard painful,full of agony moments to feel,
And here you are with rose stuck between your teeths,with its thorns stinging your skin,which i cant even bear to watch you getting hurt,
Having a laugh,and spectating not even saying a word of hope,
Even though having you here comforts me in a way ,you just cant see me alone here fighting for you,with you.
Words only i wrote,not said even though could'nt reach you, aches my soul...
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 5:46 AM UTC
I sometimes have wondered
That story, did it carry on?
These dreams of mine
Spectating in on the many lives
Pondering what they feel inside
With all that is above
Shallow Sea
Shallow Sea
Full of dreams,
Their people, the greater periphery
And all that water
Coming down on me
Shallow Sea
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
They walk up, hand in hand
Towards the top, with wind and rain,
Fear is high, they sit, they talk.
They know what will happen, just courteous conversation.
He twists, she turns,
Opposite directions for the first time since July 3rd.
Like cogs in a broken watch.
Time stops for them, no more counting
One year, Three months she says, nearly more?
Is that the rain or tears that smother their face,
From here, it’s too hard to see.
She looks out on the Sound;
The wind howls and the rain beats over what is left,
Nature never stops, why are they?
He cries now, his face shows the pain
Cannot suffer it anymore, he’s tried for too long.
I watch as I pass, spectating the commotion.
I’ve been with them the whole time, walking behind them,
Past the Citidel and through the ***
Then I remember, That Man Is Me.
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 2:49 PM UTC
I saw you again last night
You were in my house
In this dream, I lived on the first floor
Of some elaborate vintage hotel
The opulence that surrounded us
Juxtaposed the dissonance
Of our internal dispositions
The true feelings we never shared
You were in my room
You kissed me and I knew
Something wasn't right
Really, something wasn't right
Even in real life
So I started to project
My true and honest feelings
Like I felt I never totally could
Wanting what I wanted
Seemed to be the opposite of yours
And I never wanted to let you down
Always the opposite, never the same
Constant clashing of ideals
Never peace, torn in between
What I wanted and what you said you needed
So I finally told you, I needed to be done
If not for my own sake, then for yours
So we didn't self destruct
And completely tear each other apart
As I said those words
You said some in return
About how you thought something
Had always been wrong
That hit deep in my soul because I knew it too
I didn't want to admit that
I wasn't ready to love you
I was emotionally closed off
But thought I could squeeze you in there
Along with all the other feelings
I was too ashamed to tell you about
So I let it go
I let us build up the hope
Of something permanent
When I didn't feel ready
I felt like I was partly participating
And partly spectating
Only half committed
Because you only had half my heart
And I can't help how I felt
I just did a ****** job
Of handling it and not being honest
I couldn't tell you
That the reason I couldn't tell you
That I wanted to be with you forever
Was because I didn't see it like you did
You said I was your world
And I can't help that I didn't feel it
There was nothing you could have done
To make yourself my entire world
You knew you weren't and you tried hard
You really tried to make me love you more
I wasn't ready, I was so preoccupied
With still loving a boy that was never mine
He wasnt ready for me like I wasn't ready for you
Constantly wanting the inaccessible
It was my fault I said yes when I didn't know
I loved you yes, but I could have loved you more
So, for that, I'm sorry
I can't fix the things I did
And my heart hurts that I hurt yours
I'm sorry for not being honest
But I'm not sorry
For being myself
And for chasing my dreams
For leaving home
Even though you were left alone
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 3:53 PM UTC