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"stenching" poems
Has he not been beared From seas to streams Marked with cutlasses and ashes Forced to swallow cowries Why would he not wear down his face? Has he not been living On his choiceless delicacy Concoction of gmelina roots And garlic sap Why then would he smile? Why would he dance? The voilent drummers in his skull Were pounding thier drums Like groups of carpenters Driving pieces of nails Into a hardwood Has he not been marched Round the village on pant Bearing a *** stained with dry hen's blood And rotten bones and stenching earth Why would he not dash out his wealth To seek a neater heath?
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Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 6:45 PM UTC
The Sickler
We're all subjects of love Subjects of fear and longing living day by day because - Smiling at the right people, vibing the wrong. Everyone sings their own song of their own love. Fear and longing hide in the inner parts. I never wanted an ignorant melody thickly articulated through a cloud of smoke, tickling a beer glass confused and stenching because- We all learned some manners as children and knew they were true, waving our banners of politeness, mine red, yours blue. Purple would be a royal colour if we combined the two. You're wrong. I might be right because- all heads are "me" when they hit the pillow at night.
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Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 12:27 PM UTC
Perspective
I spent five hours thinking about you, that day, flipping through your pictures, smiling at the letters you never wrote for me but hoping that one day, you might just draw the first alphabet of my name in a different style, trying to figure out if my name rhymes with yours. I smelled through the pages of the book that has hidden notes about your eyes and your smile in spaces between the lines and shabbily scribbled dates under the dog ears of the turn down page that reminds me of the day when you looked into my eyes for a second; when your hands brushed against mine and you didn't apologise for it like you mostly did and, when you told me that the closest you had ever gone to someone was by harming yourself. And then, there were moments even after those hours when I sneaked extra memories of you from my subconscious and laid it under the table lamp like we did- under the blanket of the night sky, squinting our eyes to search for the stars amidst the silhouetted leaves. I wrote letters to you, I couldn't ever find an address to deliver it to *because until the last time I met you, I never realised I could be homesick for people too.* Some nights, I call you to ask you if you have ever loved someone, if you have laughed just enough, how deep have you been hurt, how long will you wait till you belong to someone and then, I just hang up before the dial tone goes off because I am afraid you won't ask me the same and even if you do, I will end up liking you enough to not let you go. I know you won't say word after that so, we will just sit there, listening to each other's whiskey stenching breaths over the telephone.
0
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
Home-sick
I spent five hours thinking about you, that day, flipping through your pictures, smiling at the letters you never wrote for me but hoping that one day, you might just draw the first alphabet of my name in a different style, trying to figure out if my name rhymes with yours. I smelled through the pages of the book that has hidden notes about your eyes and your smile in spaces between the lines and shabbily scribbled dates under the dog ears of the turn down page that reminds me of the day when you looked into my eyes for a second; when your hands brushed against mine and you didn't apologise for it like you mostly did and, when you told me that the closest you had ever gone to someone was by harming yourself. And then, there were moments even after those hours when I sneaked extra memories of you from my subconscious and laid it under the table lamp like we did- under the blanket of the night sky, squinting our eyes to search for the stars amidst the silhouetted leaves. I wrote letters to you, I couldn't ever find an address to deliver it to *because until the last time I met you, I never realised I could be homesick for people too.* Some nights, I call you to ask you if you have ever loved someone, if you have laughed just enough, how deep have you been hurt, how long will you wait till you belong to someone and then, I just hang up before the dial tone goes off because I am afraid you won't ask me the same and even if you do, I will end up liking you enough to not let you go. I know you won't say word after that so, we will just sit there, listening to each other's whiskey stenching breaths over the telephone.
Continue reading...
46
blue lilies now;wilted and zapped petals of hibiscuses; frosting and drooping pressed between our pages stenching and staining them edges bleeding the flesh stenches the putrid blooms carve squealing wounds the blood engulfs the heart that deliquesces the crevices are graved then the heart deliquesces and falls into two down/a rotting corpse it oozes into the disgust of existence creeping through shredded layers of shroud covering the withering bones, mass and emotions searing it melts eventually-the shroud until it reaches the bones crashes them there spilling the liquids/ all that is left bare is already atrophying and i guess that's the difference between dying and rotting dying at least leaves you the voids to hold onto to be nostalgic for what was held dying-paints,hues from the ashes that blew but rotting eats away all that existed and snaps leaving detritus,stinking odor that i need   the craft of us all worn out the fragments dis plumed through holocausts the rebellion in ruination   and the twitched cold feet each breath i've took,now smothering you,me,and everything the reflections,contradictions intoxicating,caging charcoal abstracts punctured and ruptured all constituents consuming and decaying now every treble so heavy freezing not frozen perishing not lighter maybe these moments -they never stop cause right there in the midst everything rots. -/and we let it ~d
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
Stenching//
he dug gold, fresh out of her heart until her bones were left shrivelling, bericaded completely by stenching coal. her mines grow empty, though he returns on a blue moon in attemp to shovel out any last morsels. clinging onto their cave by bare strength.
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Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 5:41 PM UTC
golddigger
Imagery on a dead canvas Miraculously the paint comes off Stenching the room with sorrows from Ordeal of sadness and sorrows this doesn’t feel Real a endless loop melting away Reality with the pigment falling off the art Younger then love but too dumb post depression
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Dec 26, 2018
Dec 26, 2018 at 4:51 AM UTC
My Mind Is Racing