"stiched" poems
A stomach full of disappointment.
Price: Lips stiched by all words I wished to say.
Discount: If you have the kind of bitterness found in burnt toast.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
there is
there is
no literature in this
the core of my barrenss stiched between the somber of your lips
there is not enough anarchy in the mass to hold this
to speak of the almond eyes that I innocently miss
blue and full, the shadowy veins on your lips
the hands I once
---
--
-
kissed
There is no literature in this
the pretty pictures
I dismiss
I delay my thoughts
the sound of passions gunshots
the inky fluid corpse that my mind blots
In the late night I take my shots
I lay there on my wooden dusty floor
mirroring the internal rot
my eyes are sore
and I implore
you
to behave like you did that one day we were
saying goodbye at your door
please
please
just kiss me
once
more
Ill keep the hinges tight this time
this is the last time
I swore
to myself
my words they are cracking the wood on your shelf
to my poetry I scream for help
to my lamp I simmer in tears
in my pillow I drown your fears
and increase mine
your senses
I feel them
in my
spine
your jawline
all that was once you
and all that was once mine
so small and feline
you to my audience I will ******
before define
my tongue has ran out of words for you
...
..
.
my thoughts are too lonely to empansipate
my hands too empty to castrate
my mind too blane to hate
my eyes
too
numb
to
elate
I hold the heaviness of this weight
in my perched fingers
crawling to the steps of anything
but home
can I remind myself
of the sullen moments
covered in tatterted cloth filled with open wounds
leaking the blood of all your fluttering objetcs
taunting me
singing to me
everyday
there is
there is
no literature in this
the capitol punishment
of my frail little
princess
Aug 10, 2011
Aug 10, 2011 at 5:59 AM UTC
Should there ever be a backward twirling of the clock gears, a paisley maze of metal and magic to occur,
every tear will trace back to its watery scars.
Even the ropes shackling hearts will fray,
shackles broken.
Bits and crumbs of dim memories become whole again.
Just as sweet.
And perhaps, the bad will seep back in.
The dead will open their eyes again.
Roughly stiched in wounds so long ago, where even the owner has forgotten to hem back up the stiches to the surface.
The white cotton thread would have never met the needle's eye.
A baby's nursery room may gather more dust than expected.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 7:29 AM UTC
I am not making progress and
Maybe I never will.
I knew giving my all to a boy
With such destructive tendencies
Was my biggest failure, but
Who could deny your hands or
The way you whispered
"I want you"?
Your ocean eyes and sand-colored hair
Sould have warned me because the
First time we touched was a day after
The beach, and I remember every
Person in your house on that given day
And I swear there are ghosts in
My walls that sound just like your bed.
I wonder now why the ghosts I hide
Under piles of our clothes (the same clothes
That have seen your bedroom floor)
Have taken on the form of you.
I need you because you are familiar
And because of that I will always
Feel alone in a crowded room regardless
Of the faces that plague my life daily.
Kiss me until the bitterness of fear
Leaves my veins and the oxygen in
My lungs is no longer his.
The only thing left to give up on me
Is my own bones, but I feel the rust
Through the marrow and
I am out of time.
How much time did we have?
How many bars of soap must
One person go through to remove
The feel of another from their skin?
I can confirm that if he is anything like you
I will not be able to keep breathing and
That is not a metaphor for how
You took my breath away.
Stop wasting your time on me,
I am nothing but broken bones
And broken hearts, stiched incorrectly
As so and I do not have enough glue to
Fix what is left in shambles.
The last time we spoke you asked me
Why I told you I still loved you and no
Longer wanted go be with you,
But that still stands and
I'll love you til the day I die.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC
There are still mornings where I wake up with a raging after thought of you and a hard memory aching for release. I lay in a pool of cold sweat that still has the perfume of your pheromones that you left stiched in my skin. And I can still feel the warmth of your lips over the scar you left on the inside of my thigh with your teeth the night you wanted to see what would come first... a scream or a moan or the taste of my blood against your tounge. Your way of loving burned and reduced me to ash every time our flesh tangled and twisted and contorted and melted away until we were nothing but lust and rage and passion fusing together under sheets and over floorboards and in front of mirrors and ontop of counters and parked in driveways and in the downpour of the rain scented by the lost and found ghosts of love. I don't open my eyes but find myself praying to gods I don't really belive in to fall back to sleep and find this dream of you again and again and find myself questioning if you were ever really real. Some would say that this was the kind of love you could only read about, that it was the kind of love only madness could dream of... that a human heart and mind and body couldn't survive such a feverish affair. Or maybe it's just me, maybe I'm the one trapped on a page, the fool and the pawn to some story book queen with ink for blood and paper for skin... if that happens to be true, throw the book in the fire, but for old times sake... read it one more time again and again
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
I should have known,
that you would leave me one day.
Our hearts were forced together as one,
even though we knew they weren't meant to.
One morning,
you left me-alone.
My heart was unbareable.
Bleeding tears,
I slowly placed it back in my chest,
and began to let the blood flow.
I should have known that,
you would do me like any other girl,
but i was too blind from that pearly white fake smile to..,
even let that sink in.
I was too caught up in the way you made me feel
when I was around you.
I should have known that,
that moment we had when,
I place my head in your chest and inhaled for the longest,
it would be my last deep thought of us.
They say love will do that to you,
but
I should have known,
you didn't love me.
I should have known that,
when we slowly stiched our hearts together,
I should have stopped sewing your lies into my body.
They were thicker than my blood.
How could I be so stupid?
I should have known,
I should have never let you mistreat me.
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 3:59 PM UTC
Do you know?
For you
I was wandering
i still remember those days
When I was wandering
When I travelled by barefooted miles away
When I was lost in the world of selfishness
People i faced hardly had kindness.
Do you know?
For you.
I was wandering to & fro to find you
With out food and without boots
Torned cloths and a stiched blanket
Being Wrapped to hide my face
In cloudy weather or sunny days
Seemed everyday to be same
Do you know?
For you
I was wandering
Just like streets were mine.
But Strange places & strange people
cause of staggering while walking was tiredness not wine.
People started staring at me
& scared by me.
They fled distance away from me.
I stumbled 'fell down & scraped my knee.
Do you know?
for you
I was wandering
I was too much hungry
I leaned to touch a muddy loaf
That threw somebody from roof
Eventually I visted close to your house
I tried to knock your door
Instead of welcome
You pushed me and yelled to go
I concealed my face & hid my tears
Likewise I was unknown to you for many years.
Do u know?
For you
I was wandering
Cuz I was too much gloomy & sad
I didn't care people spit upon me or kicked me out
But was not expecting this
You failed to know me & my love
My insanity condition
My rambling as wayfarer
Behind my crazyness
Reason was you
Cuz I love you.
Do you know?
For you
I was wandering
In the sands
Wonderful lands
Now I always pray to GOD
Give me patience & save me
Never lead me astray
I returned back to home
Caring me my dad & mom
& now I am normal
Thank you
Do you know
Reason is only you....
By Shaffu...
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 11:25 AM UTC
I I I I was immersed into Maria's mystic Veil
A relieving elegant relish of Rilke's mystic mist
Husked my binary perception as an Earthquake
Easily brimms off the mountainpeak white frozen blanket
And helps Angels to swoon for a magnificent time lapse speed-->
Up ornaments stiched with The Divine craft and Love on a
Flying carpet infatuated and melting from Sun's Immense impact
When making love twice a day, Lovingly fulfilled with an
Intimate bluhing beauty of dancing Clouds de Dawn trying to kiss
Dusk Cloudy deliverance. Resolve probably lied in many times
Read fluttering pages gazing Smiling Buddha who Knows of blissfi pi Lyrical Mandolin Elegies Obsessed With Seeking Answers By
Pressing against Many Hearts Foolishly Misinterpreted
Pointless Colouring As An Act Of Reciprocal Love To Central Black Portals Seeing Thee Gazed Into Intricate Reminiscing
Me of Tempus Fugit Fragile Sudden Sadness Easily Evoken By You
:::::
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
A rock on an island,
Cover it with sand,
Place that rock,
In the palm of your hand,
Hold it forever,
It becomes a part,
That rock in your hand,
Obscure, outdoor heart.
Music so sweet,
Silence so pure,
The day we met,
I was given the cure,
Fixed twice, last fix,
The past is gone,
Twisted and stiched,
Till it's done.
Come find me,
I'm not lost,
Finders are keepers,
Whatever the cost,
The day's over,
It's all just begun,
Everything aside,
You're the one.
Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 9:28 AM UTC
i
Her accent thick, matching mine own
A faraway sip, of a Ruby chalice unknown;
Her hips finely stiched, amour put into her bones
Wine poureth off her tongue, a universal home.
ii
Captious by her wild's, a fig of the branch
One to calmeth me down, one whom shalt entrance;
A capotasto, to holdeth all beautiful sound in place
Angelicy pastry, goddess of the human race.
iii
She shalt cleave to me in her strife, conjunction to me
We'll forget the thing's not needed, easily thus we'll breathe;
And whilst traveling the cavern's, of the mountains and sea's
We shalt becometh one flesh, one reality, and one knit dream.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
blanket forts and cups of tea
mother's old quilt hand stiched together
worn at the seams
castles of pure white snow
melt into rivers, transform into seas
we float among the rubble
eyes turned to the frosty sky
hazed, glazed over.
Plumes of smoke pour from our lips
we move to embrace from touching finger tips
intermingled in the cold of december
dancing drunk out in the yard
the neighbours call the cops,
we are singing too loud.
The lights they spun, the siren screamed,
your all that I have imagined.
all we have is each other till the sun comes to shine light on our eyes
when it hits morning
may I have this dance with you,
the only witness, the man on the moon.
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 3:03 AM UTC
You found beauty in my disconsolate eyes.
Seeing right through me and my lies you comforted my miserable outcries.
A fortress was built to protect my heart from agony and disappointment,
But you molded a door through my scars and viewed me as heaven sent.
Embracing my imperfections, you kissed them with reassurance,
You became my mirror on the wall and developed a tolerance.
I was not the beauty but indeed the beast,
Yet you made love to mind and engulfed my soul with adoration none the least.
Taming my pessimism that overflowed like Niagara falls,
You chained them them to happiness and hope although they had brawls.
Your beauty became the stars and the moon in my darkness,
The dark knarled and hissed at the idea of love but eventually filled with bliss ,
I found peace, the best thing I missed.
Becoming the energy from your light, the radiance choked my chaotic mind until it quenched for sight
It overdosed me in seeing what's right instead of hallucinating in "what might"
It made me realize your love was worth the fight.
Your smile poisoned me with a kiss of forever ,
Your eyes blossomed sunflowers from my veins I thought would never grow
Your arms carved an imprint of your love on my body that gave me a glow
Your heart shot me with bullets of consistency I thought I'd never know,
Your personality was alcohol that kept me spinning and made me not want to go.
Mirror mirror on the wall you're my reflection,
I undergo many selection but you gave the best impression although family became the most fraustration our love conquered because it's from another dimension.
With you I can face anything, I am complete,
You see me for me,
Acknowledging the beast , you transform the negativity to positivity with ease
You allowed me to be Destiny without judging me.
It was not a true love kiss that awakened me,
It was your beauty that stripped me naked without me taking off my clothes,
It was your compassion that saw an aching soul,
It was your words that stiched the empty hole,
It was the person you are that rescued me from the cold.
You are my true love.
You are the beauty to my beast and
I love you with all of me.
-dpk
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 2:39 AM UTC
~Christi Michaels~January 2015~
painful to sleep next to your beloved
unaware that you are there
restless do I slumber
so close to one
seems not to care
wide space exists between
years stiched together loosely now
memories the only treasure
I dare hold close and how...
time once filled with wonder
precious lives did we create
joy and sadness
in all that we have made
vows binding and forever
sacred words embewed with trust
committments from so long ago
amidst powerful love n' lust
holding space together
believing in return
of all that was held sacred
legacy rightly earned
Oh, my heart it wanders through
our years of time and space
how I miss your flush of smile...
loving gaze upon my face
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
Ripped, torn. My trust was yours and you slashed it apart.
Bleeding, unborn, broken, I wandered in sea of lost
Colors, never. They faded like black blood.
Greyer days i’d never seen, like grey and silken mud.
Sunken, food was never tasted, so I rejected it.
Skinny, crude, lazy, Wallowing in pain
of loosing
you.
My future was a pinprick of light and a hell hole of darkness between me and ending.
But in the darkest place of my longest night. When my bones showed through this endless fight.
I lit a flame and color formed. I burned my shame and cut the chord.
I sent you love and felt more whole. Not healed not better, but for my soul,
It meant something.
And now i see, i planted a seed but not a tree…
But now so long now has time come through.
The light is bright and colored too!
The glowing gold of sun and sky shine through the green of leaves that i,
cultivated and let be fed, with glories of this world, undead…
Reborn and breathing in the sight. Of all the beauties, and all the right….
My wounds i stiched with a single thread, a needle ***** but no blood bled.
The glowing hues of days to lead, began to water and warm my seed.
Now every ******* day it grows.
Even the nights, a blue black rose.
And my love is back.
The world wants me,
and the odds are stacked.
I’m here you see!
existing, thriving, held, a dove.
My branches lifting, flying, above.
I see you now, not far away.
Living on as we do every day.
I love you still, but not like before.
I can see your body and not need more.
Because i light the fire inside myself.
I don’t need another to put me on a shelf.
I am whole as I am, in breaking and birth.
This tree that is me will increase in girth.
And the colors get brighter, because the heart is sewed tight.
My tree exhales wonder,
rainbows in sight.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
I layed myself out bare,
bracing for the sting of another open wound.
You only came with tools to mend,
a needle and thread.
With gentle hands,
you stiched together every hole in my heart with love.
Dec 1, 2020
Dec 1, 2020 at 12:54 PM UTC
The path to war
Is never the same
Some of it may be a lie
We might be to blame
Destruction is never good
We might have gloated
We accepted bad not good
We might have boasted
Innocent is innocent
Proved in court if law
Seeing isn't always believing
Of what we might have saw
In any circumstance there may be peace
Talk and gestures communication
At least
The different colors of this planet
Are not to be the same
Not to judge
Not to blame
We each shed a tear
We each have fear
The one and the same
Think of fabric
All colors stitches
Think of that time
It may have been torn
May have been ripped
A world of color is beautiful
The nations not devided
All stiched together
The color not one sided
It is whom we are
For which we stand
Stick to your values
Don't be bland.
A world without color, race or religion
Might be recinded
Enjoy what we have
All well blended
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
Your soft hair gleams in the light,
a morning selfie that graces my feed.
The more I gaze into your deep eyes,
the longer I feel as if could fall into them, longingly wishing to tell you,
how much I adore you.
That I, am in awe of your unconcious beauty,
perplexed by your layered originality.
Like a poet with a new novel, I so desperately desire to read farther into you,
yet be gentle as if I am handling a hundred
year old book.
But I, I am no one.
Not a complete, not a singular.
I am merely stiched from pieces of others,
a poor art collage of a human.
Hopelessly, I cannot possibly aim to be even half of what you are,
or that,
which you surely will become.
Dec 26, 2018
Dec 26, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
I chose.
And still choose.
Where my next step will land
Or fall..
Asunder
Torn
Eviscerated
Stiched.
With the same tools.
Of the same hand.
Of two minds.
Of canvas like attributes.
....
I will be strong.
You will be quiet.
I will drag us back through hell.
You will listen.
I. Am.
Wholely tainted.
With views askew.
While I truly never knew.
When these eyes switched and feinted
Took the wheel.
Battered the interior and exterior.
Threw away all in his reach to feel.
Berating and beating i the inferior.
.
..
...
And now
With eyes of black and brown.
Do they see.
Witness
Hole.
Whole.
A future.
Distant and cloudy.
But right.
There.
This well only knew the depths of dry darkness.
Yet a fountain springs fourth.
For the sun never felt so warm.
Filling my being.
Eyes refocused.
The black gate still lie somewhere beyond.
We nod to each other.
This journey.
This quest.
This.
Isn't.
Over.
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 12:33 AM UTC
Starless nights, and endless fright,
My eyes stiched as I avoid you.
Heartless fool, no care or rules,
Just a candle light for comfort.
Weary days, life's little pay,
To carry a burden of pain.
A cruel lie, to let me die,
To wither without a reason.
Restless fear, I call you dear,
Return home where you belong.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 2:14 PM UTC
You’re the dreamer.
The poet and the pauper.
A scratch just waiting to be itched, an unlit matchstick and a patch half stiched.
You are the computer’s late night glow,
the ink that flows,
from ideas in code.
You are community owned.
You are the keyboard taps and headphone beats.
Evolution for free.
Fighting for the peaceful dream.
You are the words of change and the winds of rage.
The shadows that skulk in the street.
You are the heaven that heckles hell, the bellowing of the brittle bell.
But they can’t break your bones cause they’re the echoing of our souls.
You are the half finished manuscript, the crescendo before the storm.
You see through their lies and live out our lives.
You are the positive patterns of our neurons.
You are the death cry of white dwarves.
The picture of perfection made pure by repeat,
the flowers that bleed through the cracks in concrete.
You are the hopeful birdsong at morning’s first light,
the cradle of the night,
and freedom’s plight.
You are the mirror we all look into when we’re lost
and the cycles we’re chained to when we’re not.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 10:28 AM UTC
The button was stiched
sixteen and a half years ago
on a winter morning
just in time,
before the bus left -
the important
of its presence on
a school uniform
Only a child can understand.
Today, it lies hanging out of
the tattered piece of cloth
which was once used to be
my shirt.
It reminds me of the
fights, dramas and the
pricked finger of yours
as you sat there stitching.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
Stiches stiched,
across her lips.
Pen sits,
on her finger tips.
Her writing is true,
she gets is point blank.
From the moment it happened,
and when her heart sank.
She scribbles the truth,
but does anyone see.
The hurt and betrayal,
the sadness in she.
She's forced to be quiet,
to stand alone.
In the rain and winds,
she is on her own.
It all happened,
what does it mean?
She's spent 3 years,
searching for meaning.
She's tried to tell,
the truth but then.
He's with someone new,
and she's silent again.
She watches in silence,
wanting to say.
To tell her the truth,
what happened that day.
The tape is over,
her mouth this time.
Waiting in silece,
her words confined.
The pen never stops,
she hits the keys hard.
The memory painful,
but she's moving forward.
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 2:44 PM UTC
Make my thoughts of anxiousness stop repeating
I need rest
Training ways to to be in bliss
Forgive everyone
Forgive myself.
I've been changing for the better
For you
I'd change
For you
I'll build you and us
Up
"I love her"
Those words stick to me
Stiched in
Keeping me warm in the winter
The snow falls from morning to the next
Cold bitter days
Everyone hiding
But.....
....warmth breaks in
Thoughts of her waiting for me to arrive
Suddenly seeing me arrive her face blooms!
So happy
I love that
So please
Stop my thoughts of anxiousness
For when I have her
I am happy
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 9:28 PM UTC
no one gifted me
this insane personality
I own it on my own
I hate where it takes me
to places I don't want to be
leaving parts of me
that should have been alone
Except it seems to be stiched
upon my lips
weaved by my fingertips
it's sewn inside my pocket
Stitches that itch
every time I breathe
I wish someone would pick
apart the grief that it brings
tightly stiched inside the woven
Oh how you could read me
in sign language that could swear
in the interim of lips not moving
could we just dance?
Bodies that bump in the night
shake a world so fragile
it would shatter
Pale crescent moonlight
seeks a perfect light
expelling it's sigh into
Dark Matter
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 1:57 AM UTC
i see
in each curve of each cloud,
your smiles and frowns
silk silver-stiched shrouds
undressed in my eyes
sketched sharp and freely
Nov 15, 2019
Nov 15, 2019 at 11:10 AM UTC