"stalling" poems
Touch it: it won't shrink like an eyeball,
This egg-shaped bailiwick, clear as a tear.
Here's yesterday, last year ---
Palm-spear and lily distinct as flora in the vast
Windless threadwork of a tapestry.
Flick the glass with your fingernail:
It will ping like a Chinese chime in the slightest air stir
Though nobody in there looks up or bothers to answer.
The inhabitants are light as cork,
Every one of them permanently busy.
At their feet, the sea waves bow in single file.
Never trespassing in bad temper:
Stalling in midair,
Short-reined, pawing like paradeground horses.
Overhead, the clouds sit tasseled and fancy
As Victorian cushions. This family
Of valentine faces might please a collector:
They ring true, like good china.
Elsewhere the landscape is more frank.
The light falls without letup, blindingly.
A woman is dragging her shadow in a circle
About a bald hospital saucer.
It resembles the moon, or a sheet of blank paper
And appears to have suffered a sort of private blitzkrieg.
She lives quietly
With no attachments, like a foetus in a bottle,
The obsolete house, the sea, flattened to a picture
She has one too many dimensions to enter.
Grief and anger, exorcised,
Leave her alone now.
The future is a grey seagull
Tattling in its cat-voice of departure.
Age and terror, like nurses, attend her,
And a drowned man, complaining of the great cold,
Crawls up out of the sea.
41.9k
Sully suffers from a stutter,
simple syllables will clutter,
stalling speeches up on beaches,
like a sunken sailboat rudder.
Sully strains to say his phrases,
sickened by the sounds he raises,
strings of thoughts come out in knots,
he solves his sentences like mazes.
At night, he writes his thoughts instead
and sighs as they steadily rush from his head.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 7:24 PM UTC
(from “A Love Song” by William Carlos Williams)
<•>
familiar that apple google and amazon
have me under 24 hour surveillance
e-specially now
as I am in their
geosphere of influence
but sending me a love poem of WCWs that isolates my locale, my intended inebriation status,
and is addressed to me personally (“you”),
that’s just creepy
so charged am I, obligated to oblige,
to counter-compose a love song of mine own,
under the pinot “influence,”
(in a manner of speaking)
which a love taught me to love
what if,
a new love song ecrit,
to an old and loverly land,
a woman-land designed to be desired,
no difference -
kissing a new girl first time,
a wet and unforgettable
compote
when falling
on the neck of your one beloved anew renewed
now I tremble-tread
for the line of great predecessors,
“the land lover scribes”
skilled in natures homaging,
is like a line out the door,
around the corner as if
a new flavor ice cream
has just been isolated and mined and I...
<•>
*I,
but a novitiate
in a far away, wild untamed world
where my nature taken by her nature
cannot deny paying my just due:
selvage
late middle English, from self + edge
how perfect!
“an edge,
woven on a fabric during manufacture,
intended to prevent unraveling”
the pacific coast air
the irregular shoreline - expanding/receding,
god’s own forestry reserve,
the cascades, a goal on the horizon,
country roads where ancient wheat stalks grow wild
all a tonic intermingled, an alcohol to
imbibe through mouth nostrils eyes and skin
all will be my own selvage!
preventing the eastern unraveling disease,
a nearly incurable permafrost low grade
kate spaded infection,
brought along with me for decades,
my loon June companion, now stalling out,
lost from my happy head
a vineyard on every corner,
marijuana growing next door,
rivers that change like children growing up and down,
cheek to jowled property line
live the berries and the hazelnut groves,
god’s hay bales wrapped in plastic
like marshmallows dotting the landscape*
all daring you to say
I could
love
it here
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
Earthquake Poem
3/5/2014
What do you suppose an earthquake does?
Sure, there are the shakes and scares,
Seismic shifts accompanied by tectonic tears.
But ditch this global perspective,
Figure out what rips those ripples, detective.
Let’s see you pound at the ground.
Hit it hard, ‘til you hear a heavy sound.
Is that enough to fissure some asphalt?
Tell me, could you bring this spinning planet to a sudden halt?
I can’t say for sure, what an Earth-quake does.
Though I’ve been a victim,
Earth isn’t where my quake was.
An Earth-less earthquake,
On a planet whose name I’ve learned to forsake.
Wynn’s world wandered ‘round someone else’s orbit:
Drawn to its gravity like grapes grow on a vine;
Brightened by its solar system’s shining smile, so divine;
Emotional tides tugged in and out;
Guided by its mysterious moon’s midnight meandering about.
That’s right – an orbit with its own time flow.
Time that could stomp its heels and steal a spotlight,
Time that could manipulate a moment like jello, mayonnaise, or some other squishy substance,
Time that could crash course, while standing still,
Time that could reveal something you never knew.
What do you suppose an earthquake does?
A quake could be anything that makes you shake.
Think of quaking in fear, as an unknown figure draws near.
Think of a jittery heart, that’s been bit by a bullet.
Internal tears,
think of organs bleeding,
Think of needing,
solid ground,
but falling and time keeps stalling.
When a quiet little quiver promises to deliver,
its slight shock signal straight through the middle.
When a molten magma core fizzes its manic madness,
like a shaken soda.
When an epic eruption carries out its upward excelsior,
Rejecting the spinning without a stop.
Oh, the mountains will tumble,
The hills and valleys, they’ll crumble,
And gurgle in the raging rivers’ rumble,
As volcanoes churn out violent bubbles,
Stirring up all kinds of troubles,
For one person’s personal planet.
For one person’s personal planet,
These violent forces of nature can’t compare to an Earth-quake,
When the ground you stand on begins to break,
When you realize your senseless stability is fake.
When that little quake knocks your Earth awake,
It’s reality coming alive to take, and take, and take,
Because for love, you put everything at stake.
What do you suppose an earthquake does?
I’ll tell you – it leaves a wrecked world with a cracked core and scorched surroundings.
Just because.
Just because, love on Earth always comes with a quiet little quake.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 1:44 AM UTC
Snow falling
the bear snoozing
sunflowers stalling
A Sunflower blooming
The Sun is blinding
Sunflowers blooming
Mating calls for fighting
a sunflower glooming
Perennials rebloom
as a sunflower tries to
Sunflowers rebloom
a sunflower dies too
The snowflakes fall
a Sunflower grows tall
sunflowers wilt
the dens are built
Snow falling
The bear snoozing
sunflowers stalling
A Sunflower glooming
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 4:51 PM UTC
My hair comes out but I stay true
It is unreliable, like you
I can pull it, twist it, I feel no pain
But I don't see what I then gain
You moved me and shaped me like I was your clay
I didn't complain, though my fabric would fray
I was too scared of going astray
The way you think makes me shrink
And still, I sink
So I'm falling
But conversation is stalling
Faraway voices calling
I stumble away, crawling
I look bad, but I don't feel so
First time for that, I know
Everything I say and do,
I was kept in line by you
And it's weird knowing someone so well
But feeling like you're under their spell
Yet nothing you do makes me afraid
Even though I'm in your charade
A masked ball, can I recall
Your face without fear?
When the fog becomes clear
Will you stop being austere?
Or return to your old ways, a smirk for your 'dear'
Like my hair, you are there,
But I can't make myself care.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
As I step back, regrets will come stalling, yet I never let it hurdles what’s just ahead.
© Pax
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
The Syrian process is a serial problem
When the disenfranchised
Cause a landslide
Of historical hatred
The key that ignites
Business and commerce
Wildfire hearts
And boiling skin
The harsh outbreak of deadly cholera
The blockade of the forceful armada
The coalition forces
Run wild like horses
The bombs keep falling
The people cry
The engine keeps stalling
The car dies
The white phosphorus
Brought by the white prosperous
Can burn to the bone
And wounds can ignite up to three days later
But the people of Raqqa
Are used to reigniting scars
They're used to searing flesh
That melts like tar
Where this will go
No one knows how far
Machines must be sustained
Hearts will be untamed
Lives constantly rearranged
A human rights activist attempts to send a report
What he's witnessed in Raqqa
Injustices; perceived and objective
But Hellfire
Turns the Internet cafe
Into a senseless violence display
The dirt, blood, and bodies
Mixed and spread like the art
That was ignored to lead to this quagmire
Whether this calamity started
At the Melian dialogue
Or a market diagram
Or a martyr's diatribe
What we need now is an m.d. to suture the wounds
But who will save us?
When noble protectors are blown up
And the reigniting scars scorch the hands that heal
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
“Amanda,” she said, in a bold assertion
“We really are the same
Person.” Limp in the dew and
Wise like a sage, no wound cut
No blood shed, yet,
There was something this
Bandage shut,
Something yawning, gaping
But I don’t know what…
How sad! She’s crying, that Amanda,
Shrugging ‘gainst the colic rain
And almost lost in the copes-y veranda,
Weeping softly on
Those concrete flats, wearing “Red Tom’s
And” both “Dating Matts” while
I saw her fear in that moment, appalling, stalling
With soroitous heart, “and fear of falling!”
Binding them tightly: “That’s US haha!”
How many laughs does a limp spirit draw?
—(a disparaged few or none at all…)
Still, she writes, “I am so glad” (a huff annoyed
From Amanda, distant and sad, that I
Can’t tell why “you” ever “joined.”)
But this is not my place, a passerby,
To pick up trash, inane and lonely,
To cast my judgments and inquire—why?
To heal the unbroken with words unspoken
But scratched on refuse, she may
“[heart] you” but refuse you, too
The spirit of [heart] in Amanda awoken
—(But she refused it, too!)
And then be a token
Some stranger takes home.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Wake me up I'm falling
Stuttering and stalling
With nowhere to run, and no place to hide
A beast deep inside,
Is rising
Rise, like a tidal wave
Rise, to every lie they gave
Rise, for it is your time,
To slay all these haters with power of rhyme
Freedom of expression helps fight depression...
Moment of silence
On an empty stomach
Then comes a rumble
At the smell of apple pie crumble
Moon is out of this world
Annie is our favourite girl
I hope no-one else sees this
**And starts singing about my *****
****** mind in a slaughter house
Anti-Ducks about this life
But with a Kiwi accent if I may
Tis "Anti-Ducks about this life"
We went outside,
Still high
Decided to munch and play games
Forgot our phones outside
Smash the boundaries,
Tear down the walls
Won't stop tearing
Til' we seen Ben's *****
Break down barriers,
Smack 'em down
Walking past ducker-fuckers
Delirious like a clown
Smiling all the way
With a crazy little laugh
On this spectacular journey
Into the past
It's time to get to the end of this family rhyme
We all pitched in with whatever we could find
It's beautiful and grand, a real sight to see
This Mafia family of mine
It's our time our life
Crazy running red lights
Grand stand, stage band time to curtain call
But it never ends, we fam!
(Tight!)
*Annie's the funniest girl
Her hair blazes like sunset
But she keeps talking about my *****
I mean seriously...
She done yet???*
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 2:57 AM UTC
On this my happy and blessed day
fondly I remember what Mother always said
upon some naughty day when I made her sad
stalling on her bidding and not being a good boy
Son, live straight and be easy to interpret
Life is a complex menu of choices. Still -
you can cruise along if there’s love in your life
I remember the wistful poetry from my father’s lips
Creamy words spoken in jest or in epic tales
and untutored philosophy when he spoke of his going:
Death has come and it’s time for last words
My life has dragged by but now how it hurries!
Be the person that you must and **** the rest!
A truly rich person shares what they value most
And so it is that I’ve shared my heart and my mind
In numerous lines of poetry that has dared me to write it
On this my 66th birthday I read no ills in this number
For I’m just a wayfarer looking for words along my route
I pick the gems that sparkle and dazzle as I stroll to eternity
The landmarks on my route are
The friends I made and lost along the way
The doleful souls that brought tears to my eyes
The pretty girls that taught me I could never have them all
I remember too the places I’ve been to
And the songs of my people – lively commentaries on everything
And how life always lay waiting to be lived
My day of birth is my day of possibilities
And I keep hearing the line from the jazz classic:
Get your kicks on Route 66!
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
I'm sick of trying to deflect every line of my predetermined fate
I've gotta close my eyes, say my goodbyes
Fall to the ground and let my bones break.
Well, hell my skull has cracked.
The brains I once contained are a mess and they seem to be less
than what I had expected.
I suppose when I let go I didn't know
that my thoughts would be completely exposed and be utterly known.
My soul is on the line
because my body is bare and naked
showing the monster inside that I have created.
Something I have worked hard to keep so secret
is exposed to the sun and it
darkens the air with the breath that I left
to be swallowed up by my sigh.
Well it's no longer time to lie.
I've gotta come clean, wipe away all that is unseen.
I have fought valiantly but I have lost and now I'm paying a terrible cost.
I'm a fool for staying hidden
when all it wanted was an intermission with a decision.
To rip out my heart and feed it to the dark.
Instead I ignored it.
And now it's eating away all the love that I once felt, all the compliments I have dealt.
Well, help me save them from this monster I have created.
But how can I **** it? When the villain is me.
My eyes are opened with a snap when I hear the footsteps coming back.
Am I really the only one to blame?
Could I have saved all those lives; women and children?
But oh their blood is stained and etched into my skin.
Imprinted, forever, glued like a tattoo.
This monster I have become is breaking through.
How can I destroy the evil that sits so deep inside
when my mind controls both thoughts, pure and putrid?
My mind is failing,
My body falling,
My mind stalling.
I know the truth.
I know what I must do in order to save those I love.
I must **** what I am becoming.
I'm afraid there is only one way.
We both know that I can no longer stay
I must take my final bow
and bite the bullet,
swallow the pills,
snap my neck,
slice my throat,
stab my heart,
and say goodbye
because it's my time.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 10:17 AM UTC
It was in total a fast track ticket to the moon
and I can't return to transaction dock 8 too soon
the star checkout lane at my local supermarket
tops balloons with rocket science aeronautics
that pilot's service areas binary counter perfect
exceeding expectations bent into global orbit
My items sped along to muzak her slim milky way belt
a smile beaming discount countdowns heaven sent
taking off in bit lips when her priceless item buttons
almost burst free to air with a strain of special promotions
helpfully assisting my every excess flight of fancy
made impulse buys a baggage allowance necessity
She stroked parts of her radical laser station
to fully engage hygienic wiped spills of imagination
and I felt the warp of hyperdrive tangelo engines
urging me into a dive to scan juice ripe tangerines
a last minute save fuelled by stalling flashback cavities
gyrating in tight nets as we escaped earth's gravity
With a twist of her wrist I was into fits-the-bill ecstasy
as the whirr of electronics cut loose such quality
with a lick of an index finger our mission was bagged
handled too efficiently for any danger of jet lag
no flyby chance to not exchange standby coupons
my trolley emptied of offers too galactic to pass on
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
the girlie man of Australian politics
had the term coined just for him
the tough man Arnie Schwarzenegger
from California was thinking of him
Bill Shorten is a *****
when it comes to fiscal matters
that's why his statements
on the budget are all in tatters
soft approaches toward
spending will never do
the nation's finances are in need
of a tightening *****
the treasury office stats
don't mislead of go awry
a salient tale they tell
about a well running dry
there are no Jesus Christ figures
in Canberra to divide the loaves and fishes
a certain amount is in the nation's war chest
which must fulfill the people's many wishes
the Shorten alternative economic policy
has great sieve holes in it
the nation's well being under it
would be rendered unfit
at the end of the day
the taxpayer always pays
so the ledger should be in balance
without any stalling delays
fiscal responsibility
is good for a nation's health
marshmallow centered Shorten
has no interest in stock piling our wealth
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
Thought's wander not definitions random words and my mind associations..
ALWAYS
Move forward feel emotion ride life's waves explore all oceans
BALANCE
Most people don't have it can't figure out how to counteract bad habits.
CHANGE
Continuous you can gage growth without age
DESTINY
Predetermined path sure to feel its wrath
EVOLVE
Everything is an evolution study patterns find solutions.
FOCUS
Reality smokes us takes our hopes constantly chokes us.
GREATNESS
Never will be achieved we run in circles feeding greed.
HAPPINESS
We feel it unnecessary conflict will **** it.
INTERACTION
Worlds collide theater of thought, share knowledge all can be taught.
JOY
Give to planet, heart is a diamond made up of fossilized granite.
KARMA
Never a mystery all a part of our history.
LIES
We live it everyday, leaders speak them with every other word they say.
MOMENTS
A snapshot of time can be felt in spirit and mind.
NATURE
Outside or within an untamed force that is invisible like the wind.
OPPORTUNITY
Comes knocking all the time never to those who close their mind.
PATIENCE
We wait for saviors like we wait for coffee, we rush to our deaths while the clock is tick tocking.
QUESTIONS
Bring them on answers only come to a mind that's strong.
REVOLUTION
A sibling to evolution, born from desire to find the ultimate solution.
STABLE
Not all are able put your cards on the table.
TIME
A measurement of a period, tied to our existence which is myriad.
UNIVERSAL
sounds huge but isn't, puts us all together maybe we can win it.
VISION
we must gain sight to see ,the patterns of history are blatent in stalling humanity.
WEAKNESS
in everyones soul, it's when you move forward strength arrives and you pay the toll.
XENOPHOBIA
what's new is strange addition will always equal change.
YESTERDAY
has passed a new day begins, forgive yourself today for yesterday's sins.
ZOMBIES
I see many of them everyday, walking through life with nothing good to say.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 9:07 AM UTC
Kiss me like the world depends on it.
Kiss me like your heart might break.
Kiss me like it'll start a riot.
Kiss me like the ground might shake.
Kiss me while the sky is falling.
Kiss me while the world is ending.
Kiss me while my heart starts stalling.
Kiss me while our minds are blending.
Kiss me at the peak of a mountain.
Kiss me at the ocean shore.
Kiss me at the drinking fountain.
Kiss me at the prison door.
Kiss me everywhere,
In any place,
Kiss me anywhere,
Not just my face.
Kiss me now,
Or kiss me tomorrow,
I don't care how,
It removes all sorrow.
Just kiss me here,
And kiss me forever.
I need you dear,
To kiss me however.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
"wish everyone was loved tonight
And somehow stop this endless fight
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days"
Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls
<>
Yeah yeah. Dating myself.
Some reason find myself listening to the GGD,
(A less embarrassing initialization)
Heard it a thousand times,
Classic easy listening rock.
A sweet wish, everybody knows, ain't gonna happen>
But, In my hand, a -perfecta summer day,
Steady sun, genteel sea breeze, low humidity,
The insects tolerate a shooing away, go easy and disappear,
House empty, everyone doing something and
You know where I am, tip~tapping on my iPad,
Yup, in that room, where poems are fan circulated,
And fall, freely, from the wood ceiling directly
Onto screen, my only job, to screen
The screen for typoes and other such minor inconveniences
There is no time to calculate,
No time to measure, no errors to complete that can't be undone,
And To mourn,
And the Angels have come in silently,
The day so fine, their human side,
Returns for a sun tan and the heat that heals
Burns, wounds, fissures, and even stalling
Out the growth of the bad cells our bodies
Con~tain;
They do not run nor hide,,
whispering I am too pessimistic,
And the Day will bleed into sunfall,
With colors sublime and god designed,
And if ever there was an evening
That the possibility greatest that
tonight
Everyone could be loved,
Even me,
Even you,
Even us,
The air has harmonies in the air flow,
And tonight, will be the time
When we all remember with a sly grin.
that we commence by loving oneself,
And then cell splitting,
and saliva sharing,
following tears and sweat,
and cradling arms
will entwine
Only Love Poems
Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 3:14 PM UTC
Taking it slow
was never really your specialty.
First date, you showed up late
hurried up and grabbed my hand,
had me kissing you within a second.
You always wanted to do
what was next, what was coming
you didn't like waiting, stalling, playing it safe
you were reckless, restless
had me loving you within a week.
People called us *****
and I mean
I guess we were a little *****
but I just like to turn out the lights
and explore with you.
People called us stupid,
and I mean
I guess we were a little stupid,
but I just like to make things interesting
keep things young like we're supposed to be.
People didn't really get it,
they were criticizing somethin'
they didn't understand.
We were just crazy about each other,
and didn't want to waste any time.
We were seventeen,
just trying to stay "young, wild, and free."
Dec 2, 2011
Dec 2, 2011 at 11:07 PM UTC
C8H10N4O2 so softly calling
Feel my energy level falling
It faintly whispers my name (psss)
But now I'm just stuck stalling (uh)
I try but just can't break free (so)
"How about some herbal tea?" (no)
Your suggestion is appalling (ugh)
But coffee? I'm always keen
Need that daily hit of caffeine
Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 7:23 PM UTC
There is a strong sentimental attachment
to an old dark blue pickup with pin stripping
Hadn't driven it in years…its tires were loosing air
Intentions of getting it road worthy were slipping
A neighbor spied it … asking if it was for sale
Saying he needed something like it for hauling
With a sigh… I relinquished my keepsake affection
With a boost… it sputtered… then purred without stalling
Too late to reconsider and backing out of the deal...
Giving a gentle pat to the shinny chrome bumper
I lovingly said, 'Take care of the ol' girl...
she'll be good to you if you maintain and pamper'
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC
Stalling
get your foot off the acceleration
hold my hands not my thighs
the lights gone red
this may take a while
once were off
my head: blown back
I love the speed
but our senses failed us
my body lied
we hit a tree
a ****** accident
who was the victim, really
the wounds were the same
my blood
stained you
save me with your holy hands
I’m bleeding out of every nook and cranny
this red light
may be longer than expected
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 11:26 PM UTC
The solo road takes hold. I don't know where it goes, but where it goes I go.
A midnight’s drive under a sky full of clouds, blocking the moonlight.
Only the glimpse of a shimmering star guides my way, but to what I do not know.
A night of indifference, just going where this winding road takes me, but
I can barely see that shining star through clouds of hesitation.
The road is a one lane highway to a destination unknown
the fog is so dense it is like a layer of blankets used to hide the fears of a child in the dark.
At this point I wonder if it can hide my fears as well.
Do I even want to hide from these fears at all or should I stand up to the inevitable?
My engine’s sputtering, stalling, my car’s running out of gas and I feel like I just might crash.
I put my foot to the gas and hope that I wont fly through the glass and end up with my car smashed, because this car is my only way off this **** road in the first place.
I see no headlights coming my way even though I pray that one day I will see a light at the end of this godforsaken road but the day isn't today.
Some days I pray that I will lay on the road face down
with a trail of my essence turning the road red with release
but other days I carry on like it was my job to mindlessly keep both of my hands on the steering wheel and hope that at the end of this road, there’s an exit sign,
and that all I need’s a little more time.
Because night after night, my hands grip the wheel so hard my knuckles turn white as the fog that clouds my vision day after day.
My sighs echo down this ever growing street, every twist and turn feels like another reason
to unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door because
I’m going 85 in a 50 and I can’t even see my own headlights on the road
my vision is blurred and my mind is as foggy as the road I drive on.
Every now and again I wonder what the point is
I can barely remember the day I started driving, it was so long ago
and I pray for the day when I can wash this fog away in rain,
that I’ll find an exit and take it.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
From the visions of sparrow vanguards
that fly insatiably onward.
From the tombs of ancient hearts draped
in flowing, moth-eaten fabric.
From the fighter jets stalling somewhere
above solitary and succinct farmlands.
From the bottom of a broken purple
sunset that lies embossed on my brain.
From the silliest half-thought left
unvoiced in the vagrant light of a damp
and desolate lamp lying in a landfill.
From several mouths at once.
From oracles cross-legged in caves.
From the gills of a catfish on a hook.
From mythical forgeries and the perjurer's tongue.
To the subdued hope resting in a
trembling hand gripped round its pen.
To satisfaction that is oneness that
seems to never arrive but is there
all along.
To the peaks of the Himalayas.
To my spidered desk light, shallow with doubt.
To my flustered and torrential page.
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 9:39 PM UTC
equivacol memories of my past present and future
writing other peoples papers better than i can write my own.
music is my only vice on these cold days. These independent sounds breaking waves and my spirit.
being omnipotent in a fantasy world. learning to trust the ones i need. recognizing that need.
procrastinating my daily missunderstandings.
stalling to make imperative decisions, remembering undying affection for a persistant happiness that is impossible to reach. only to let that effort slip through those fingers of deception.
as i linger in and out of minds of those less deserving corrupted corrupted young souls. you're the only voice who's vibrations floating in and out of my atmosphere held any distinct significance.
idealistic reminders pushing our hearts. the ones we try so hard to ignore.
time was on our side and ironically we ran out. with ones heart in ones mouth you are spilling out secrets meant to be kept between you and no one but eternity.
the inconsiderate notions we carry are losing depth.
breaking glass into a million little pieces like those broken moments.
lets sit and decipher those indescribable images with mega pixels transfering what words cannot.
this is all what were avoiding.
skin secrets burning into my memory like affection. oh how dishonest our acquired tastes has grown.
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 1:36 PM UTC