"stowing" poems
Black metallic steel
not as dark as the anger
that she feels.
She felt herself reel
slowing
growing
as hard as the black metallic steel.
Stowing away her anger
she entered into the danger
through the doors
of the lonely more.
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 4:24 PM UTC
Who am I?
I'm a piece of work.
A block of marble,
A chip of rock.
A driftwood face,
Waiting near a dock.
A song without refrain,
You won't sing again.
A pattern, pinned for sewing,
A garment good for stowing.
A man in queue,
Looking back at you.
A canvas smeared in gesso,
Leaning near a frame.
A sonnet missing
A rhyming couplet,
An octave and a sestet.
I am
A work in progress
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC
Simplicity will make its rounds
As it always does when I'm missing you.
I can tell you're missing me in the way you glance
Quickly out of the corner of your eye
As I'm fiddling with my ink and paper.
We make rounds with one another
Alternating shifts between affection
And you watch me almost instinctively
Perched upon your over-sized sofa cover
Disguising all of my dresses you imagined as "the one"
Floral, striped, simple brown like parchment paper.
But you are stowing away patterns that remind you of summer past.
Only now it's spring and summer's not yet arrived
A fact that until today remained unknown to me.
But of course you'll be leaving soon
And I'll be wanting you
Even if so it was not enough, even more
In the nostalgia of unwritten details in the past.
They pattern themselves as soldiers awaiting deploy
Into some unknown battle with a sparkling eye
For they know not what love is;
They have only tasted it in envelope adhesive
And flittering longings of long-lashed exchanges
Of forward observations brought to attention
By none other than the golden-haired stable boy;
So they battle with a passion of longing instead.
They have traveled this road many times
And knowing what to expect, they
Delve forward despite disregards of the illumination
Of the embellishing light of Lady Moon
Upon the night to beckon their lustful eyes and bodies
To become one with their defenseless souls
Beneath the silvery threshold of her flowing *****
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 6:53 PM UTC
Finding myself
With no keeper
No doors closed
I sway
Move into the night
With fervor
For what lies ahead
The delicate instruments
Grinding
Stowing away
The secrets kept
From the surrounding cities
Turmoil
Building up
Releasing an uplift of spirits
I could hardly imagine
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
WILL THIS HUNGER EVER SUBSIDE?
I don't believe I want it to..
I paint my insides and drown them in ink
Leave them at your door to be smeared on your walls with the hope I have create something you cannot forget.
Something that will craze you in manic love once again.
I like it.
The ache so strong in the depths of my core
Eating away at the lining of my being until there is nothing more.
ARE YOU NOT STARVING?
Indifference is a mechanism of defense
Stowing away only the most intense.
I will play pretend I am whole and free until I actualize it to myself that I am indeed
And I will hate you for making me believe to feel as such, it was you I did need.
WE SHOULD NEVER HAVE LISTENED TO NERUDA!
Tied hearts in the dark get tangled and the knots end up in your stomach
The independence of the sun will make you sick as you realize your worldliness.
Together we are heaven
And therefore I must believe we made an illusion.
Reality brings about things we believe we could have only imagined.
I adore the desire of you.
Only the dreams are screaming it is beyond merely you that I desire so lavishly.
And you are just as those allusive dreams I feel the importance of but cannot quite recall so am endlessly trying to figure
(like the word that escapes you when it is the only and perfect one to translate what is in mind)
We could give each other all our love
A piece of overly buttered bread is what we would end up.
Too rich. Too filling. Too much.
Though some would argue there isn't such a
thing.
I AM DISCONTENTED WITH NOT UNDERSTANDING THE MEANING
Sensed as abruptly as the scent of humid bodies and patchouli
I cannot believe you to be but a distraction God threw at me to see if I could deflect that which might hold me from some spiritual duty.
But if so, I'll cut myself loose.
I'll think of you as the pond I once rested against in my travels as a wild goose.
Filled myself with the life that surrounds you an flourishes beneath your surface.
I'll trust I will come upon your easy waters
Or some as tranquil when my wings need rest to further soar.
I always knew you were a challenge to overcome.
And I thought the challenge was to be with you as your greatest lover
When I just got the idea..
Maybe the challenge to overcome is being in love with you at all in this time of mine so ripe
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 7:46 PM UTC
due to a lack of talent
in the writing sphere
a plagiarist will see fit
to pinch other poet's gear
brilliance not present
on the nib of the pen
hence a copyist will purloin
every now and then
a rich source of poetry
is tapped into online
as if robbing the golden nuggets
from a Colorado mine
their coda reads like
this let's nick a stanza
stowing the best *****
for a thieving bonanza
without any conscience
the reproducer does steal
making much of other's works
which are so ideal
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 8:23 PM UTC
This travel refreshes the eyes
Even if it is the same view
Day in and night out
Doesn't take away its beauty
A journey marked by swans
That runs seaside
then turns riverside
and adjourns right side
See, it's a journey burned behind my eyes
It is between the swans that I can think
And not think
This is my safe house and I'm a habitual criminal
Stowing away in this liminal place
Taking a rest from being arrested
for too much stress
I will never tire of these travels
Each sunrise and full moon
Falling that little bit more in love
Pupils dilating as the eyes refresh
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 8:18 AM UTC
My eyes swimming, the lamplight
bobbing as it is held in my gaze; I watch
the door swing closed with a
resounding click.
Just a moment before were your hands, floating
an arms length away from the sun-
warmed duvet, shuffling in the effort
of untangling your headphones,
methodically stowing them in the
pocket of your jeans.
The door sweeps shut, your silhouette in
the hallway lighting now stifled and
the dancing figures
of the oak leaves are
swaying together upon the carpet. The window
glowing soft and meandering over my shoulder.
With a resounding jolt of latch meeting strike
plate; I am left with the hum of passing electricity,
the grazing cadence of
my exhales,
and the lukewarm divot in the sheets where
I hold your departed presence captive.
Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 10:09 PM UTC
Crushed, broken, thrown aside,
My heart gets tossed around with the tide.
The push and pull of what others want,
My own emotions I cannot flaunt.
I must stay strong for those who deserve,
My mind must stay clear, not swerve.
Bottled up, building and growing,
My anger and hurt I am stowing.
Crushed, broken, thrown around,
My soul is trapped and earthly bound.
Wanting and longing but holding back,
My life will always have something to lack.
For the ones I love I must not fall,
Myself I must push away all.
Crushed, broken, thrown about,
My mind screams and I hear it shout.
Trying to speak but no words come,
My lips just become numb.
Crushed, broken, thrown far and long,
And yet, my facade still stays strong.
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 7:18 PM UTC
Romeo hath ****** off
and gone to the pub
to partake of six pints of ale
with his mate Scrub
thy hopes he doesn't
get booked by the cops
as he drives home
with his portly belly full of hops
Romeo is vexing and irking
me no old end
he's been excessively visiting
pubs all weekend
doth his affections
for me no longer exist
hath beer swilling
taken priority on his list
thine shall be stowing
his wallet away
so Romeo can't go out
on the town to play
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
You are ******* if you do but
who the **** are you
to complain.
Put the blame on the shoulders of
your olders and betters
men of letters that fall after their name but
you're ******* all the same because your face
doesn't fit,
it's a load of old ******** they spit at to ***** you,
don't fall into the trap of there's no way because that
is a pile of pedalled out ****
Don't do what they do and **** what they say,do what you want
and do it every day.
This way of the cross is a ******* dead loss so do it and let them all hang,
bang open the doors and **** on the floors,let the management manage,do as much damage as you possibly can,
in the end,
every woman and man will be flushed down the pan with the tampons and Johnies and tell me life's bonny,
I'll tell you it's *****
My eyes closed to light and the ******* of a night tries to **** me,
I'd die happily if it wasn't for you,if I wasn't about to get ******* once again,it's only the pain keeps me going, stowing away vitriol and paying my toll to the man,
Gods plan is as bankrupt as the mistrust we feel,when every deal that is set is a certainty bet and the betters have lettered it all with a press that can print for the poor and the skint
and ain't we sorry ***** having a ball.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
Oh, but she can't
No, she won't
She's spent so long
Building them
Keeping the darkness locked up
Stowing it away from ever seeing the light
No hope
If she lets him in, it was all for nothing
For love
Is not worth the risk of letting them out
Not now, not ever
No one can save her from what she's become
All her life, alone
That's all she's known
Is all she'll ever know
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 8:03 AM UTC
With each step
the keys swinging from my wrist
lightly graze my thigh,
urging it to continue moving forward
and resist looking back.
The aroma
of freshly bloomed honeysuckle
fills my nostrils
with the sweet nostalgia of past springs
alongside friends.
Meticulously-
picked songs bounce against my eardrums
as the soundtrack
to a life of simultaneous apathy, agony,
and ecstasy.
It seems
some higher being knew that
I needed to feel
the lonely tonight in a way I haven’t allowed
in quite some time,
that I just
needed to feel within myself
everything I’ve been
stowing away under my lungs,
adding pressure to each breath
that I never
noticed was there in the first place,
forcing away
the laze with which I’ve treated the existence
I’ve become.
In my peripheral
I see that colors are bursting
in the sky behind me,
and it’s enough for the wind to press my cheek
to look back
on a vision I’ve not witnessed
since autumn approached,
and I close my eyes to let my head fall back
because it’s almost
too much life to feel.
It occurs to me
there is beauty behind us
sometimes worth giving a glimpse,
and if we don’t turn around
at a time that calls,
we won’t find our way back home.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
I now fear the act of writing
These things I have to say
Jotting them down, scribbling them out
Folding into secrecy, stowing them away
Slipping an array of papers into a back pocket
Or resort to hiding them under the bed
Doing everything and anything in my power
To get these thoughts out of my head
For if I write down these musings,
Set them into words sturdy, finite, and clear
Then I will have to face the truth hidden in catharsis
And that is what I ultimately fear—
A hidden meaning behind my words
Thus far lurking, but now they show
Leaping off the page, consuming me whole
Something, about myself, I didn’t want to know
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 7:30 PM UTC
Why do you waste your energy?
You present that radiant smile.
hug me like
our touch will stop,
the desperate pleas of those in need.
Why?
I need for you to see the truth
think of me like a robber
entering your holy presence
I'm faking,
rounding up your feelings
stowing them away,
and you still think
I'm benefiting
I'm not
and in the dead of night
dressed all in black
the brightest thing about me
is the smirk
escaping my lips
I take your feelings and sell them
use the pleasure I gain as an escape
from the numbness
tearing my soul to shreds
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 2:27 AM UTC
It was an interesting thing
to be in a bookstore
with him.
The altered state came
almost immediately,
it was hard not
to notice the happening
of it.
It was an electricity
that changed,
charged his large
frame,
making him almost
mountainous.
For just a minute,
we were all blokes
who liked
books,
but he became
a book-buyer/bookseller
a few paces past
the threshold.
When he spotted that
one treasure, that particular
hardcover,
perhaps a first-edition,
he proclaimed
it’s value forthwith.
With his eyes wide,
a sidelong grin,
he dived into the pages,
inhaled deeply
through his nose.
Continuing,
he examines
the tome fastidiously,
expertly announces
the novel’s value
at thrice what the
shopkeeper is asking
and advances to the
counter.
Soon after,
we left that shop,
each of us weighed
down with brown paper
parcels.
Stowing those,
we then sought
smoked gouda,
beef sandwiches,
and potatoes fried
in duck fat.
It was time for lunch.
***
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications; 2016
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
Inanimate objects high in the sky, silently they fly, silently passing you by
Elgantly built, some for speed but mostly built to cover a need
A need to get from A To B as quickly, cheaply and efficiently
Transporting you from your life at home to another less familiar zone
Some of us like it hot and by the beach, tanning and surfing all day long
Some of us like to be out of reach, isolated in a small hut on a hill, hiking each day is our chosen thrill
Some of us choose a City Break, a short hop to another land with different vibes and different sounds
Some of us fly business class of course, they get the extra room and a pillow to aid your sleep
The majority fly economy stowing your bags at your feet
Whatever your choice its much the same aim, getting away for a break is your game.
You may choose Las Vegas, Florida or France, Iceland, New York or Jamaica, Singapore, Rome or Venice, the world is your oyster.
You may choose to climb a mountain, dive in deep seas, camp by a fire, go see a band, dance by candlelight on the sand.
All of these choices are yours to explore let the Plane whisk you away to these destinations and more.
Your imagination is endless so let your mind roam free, have courage, book your ticket, choose your destiny
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
LEAVES OF FREEDOM
Alone but free like a sole tree with just the wind to release the energy
Standing statuesque in an open field not even anothers shadows to hide behind
Not forgotten it all was started with a simple seed, rising high from something rudimentary
Appearing out of place,memories like the massive roots,drinking it all in ,stowing it all away so cleverly
Learning to stand alone flowing with the wind instead of against it ,while also taming to not be so wild
Time recalled in rings stood the test of time maturing like many things ,capturing moments from a sapling to the elderly
Syrupy sap brings life to one or sends a message to the other of a generation gap,chlorophyll building energy is like kool aid for a child
While growing upward in a meadow or on a hill still reaching up & out ,air rustling it's leaves or our hair so tenderly
Some meek or seen as weak like an aspen or elm ,an old bloke maybe like an Oak or with the beautiful flowers or fruits and be so mild
Alone in the winter, lessons with another season,stark against the chill,building strong character like our will,bark like skin tough and leathery
Warm colors bringing falls beauty like we fall for another cutie,we are always adoring each other, but are they also seeing themselves as though they just smiled
So stuck in the ground looking around, branches like hands reaching out,spring green adding summers weight,but with age and fall the wind now blows, frees the leaves to make further inquiries R.C.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 8:28 AM UTC
Death found what i hid,
in the shallow end of a dream,
in the seam of the deepest womb,
to scar the fairest wound,
inside the tomb the darkness wreaked,
while lucid horrors seep,
sleep, ignorant and unknowing,
that the creature is growing,
growing and never slowing,
knowing and never showing
that you bare the weight of owing
your existence to the thing you've been stowing
Pain it ****** and festers
the days fall like like pedals
into the sea of no remorse
for no one cares what runs its course
but it does with and without it's source
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC