"stutters" poems
Lie within chaos, and create comfort
In visions of endless love.
Riding slowly on the crest of a morning fling, and flutter,
The body stutters
Like a street dancer.
Shine in different directions
And end the yearning
For a love of creativity
By stripping off
And darting
Into a sea of uncertainty,
with a sense of
Unimaginable lust for what keeps you
Ticking like a sturdy clock.
Find the rhymes that combine
With what lies inside the mind,
To stumble upon the future pleasure,
That you unearth with delight,
As you wonder.
Inspiration is born out of desire.
Fuel to fire the birth of creation.
The mind quakes for a taste
Of the cake, that is blessed with greatness.
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 9:23 PM UTC
butterflies and jitters
stutters and whispers
shaking and sweating
hesitating and forgetting
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
I take a walk into the parkour graveyard,
looking for Polish dealers and cellphone halos.
I heard Thoth resides in sobriety,
but words fail me
whenever you are near.
I let my tongue run in endless stutters,
disguising 'I love you' as some off-hand request.
I could take you to dinner,
I could show you a longing
without the need for ***
This late-night food has lost its flavour.
This ***** call never picked up.
All that is left is to dial these numbers,
and wait by the window
for any car but yours.
Let's take a walk to the railway bridge.
We'll smoke a joint by the open forest.
You'll push your breath into mine,
make me high,
and forget why I ever
felt so low.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
there must be a place where broken words go
the ones without a limb
not fully formed
not spoken right
not heard
there must be a place where broken words go
the sentences left uncompleted
the trailing words that never left the lips
the "but" and the "and"
that were always left hanging
somewhere between silence and speech
there must be a place where broken words go
full of stutters and writers block sufferers
somewhere between the "i love"
and the "you" that never followed
or the "wait"
that was whispered into the air
the "please come back"
that made peace with dying
on the corners of a turning mouth
there must be a place where broken words go
the words spoken but never heard
the letters written but never posted
the train of thought that crashed into the clouds
the words in the bottle that traveled the sea
but sunk to the bottom before it could ever reach
there must be a place where my broken words go
the stains on my diary that didn't come from a pen
and the letters on my thighs that don't make sense
the things i could never say
and the things i said that came out all wrong
all the broken alphabets in my song
that cry for salvation
for one more chance
there must be a place where broken words go
there must be a place i can call home.
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
Words surge
Vulgarity stutters
What's that again?
OH!! You shuttered
Shut down voices
Disagree in thought
Stop in your tracks
Facts are not sought
Facebook, Twitter
Social media sites
Opinions are all quenched
Control is such a might
The Storm is coming
So I was told
Stand up strong
Always be bold
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
"her writing depresses me" he says
my voice quivers, falls up toward
space and crashes
down
against the sea-salt waves. my voice
s-s-s-stutters, repeats the first
syllable five times and once again
for an even six, repeats, repeats,
repeats. my voice is
quiet and every teacher i've
ever had calls on me with a
"speak up!" but no one ever
listens.
writing is the only voice i've ever known
you will not take that from me.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
I want to be with someone
Whose heart stutters
With my gentle caresses
Whose breath stops
Just with one glance at me
Whose palms sweat
Because nerves get the best of him
Even though he's been with many before
I want to be with someone
Who struggles to suppress a shy smile
Every time I smile widely
In his direction
With one that's reserved for him
And him only
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 5:38 PM UTC
I never thought i'd get used to a constant heartbeat
Keeping perfect tempo under my ear
But when that beat has a voice that brings up it's thoughts
I can hear it speed up and
I get nervous too and your ribs can probably tell that
By the way my breath stutters and words fall out cracked
But after all is said and done, I'm even more frightened
At the words i just heard
And the slowed down tempo
That forms a rhythm of wanted love
That sadly is only one sided
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
In impulsive scenes, in adjacent moments
when eyes are locked and hearts are ardent
then passion strikes, a threat is posed
the lover's heart becomes opposed
astounded by the wondrous fact
Affections - real, just so intact!
a brilliant pause; the story alters
the lover finds love the moment he stutters.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
I've seen you in striped white,
I've seen you in black wrap-around tops,
I've seen you in stilettos,
I've seen you in Fitflops.
I've seen you in the bluest of days,
I've seen you in the rainiest of nights,
I've seen you in the face of the sun,
I've seen you in the wind-full of kites.
I've seen you in the trajectory of life,
I've seen you stare at me with care,
I've seen you in the droplets of water,
I've seen you in every castle in the air.
I've seen you dreaming,
I've seen you back in reality,
I've seen you physically Earthy,
I've seen you emotionally Mars-y,
I've seen you sad and jubilant,
I've seen you troubled, but kept a smile,
I've seen you doubled - in poker,
I've seen you gone crazily wild.
I've seen you in green-blinking nails,
I've seen you return my stutters,
I've seen you stand tall - confident,
I've seen you slouch - don't matter.
I've seen you looking into empty spaces,
I've seen you looking into a tasty plate,
I've seen you doubt yourself,
I've seen you believing in fate.
I've seen you in the bakery,
I've seen you in a factory,
I've seen you in your beauty,
I've seen you in your most ball-sy.
I've seen you in the bus,
I've seen you read,
I've seen you pick up a microphone,
I've seen you speaking with speed.
I've seen you with a newspaper,
I've seen you with an iPad,
I've seen you with a t-shirt,
I've seen you stylishly clad.
I've seen you work hard,
I've seen you studied irresponsibly,
I've seen you proud,
I've seen you flicker embarrassingly.
I've seen you here,
I've seen you there,
I've seen you near,
I've seen you everywhere.
I've seen enough,
I've seen you in extremes,
I've seen you thorough,
I've seen you in teams.
I've seen you verily,
I've seen you truly,
I've seen so much inspiration,
I've seen you guilty.
I've seen "I've seen" 58 times,
I've seen you more than that few.
But I would've seen nothing more,
If I've seen none of you.
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 4:56 AM UTC
February is brighter.
It's pale blue
aura juxtaposes
the deep purple
of January.
It stutters
in, reminding us
that the adamant doors
of winter have been closed
to ajar.
Only the thin confetti
of snow now lines
the streets in
it's final celebration.
Blue smoke from the slates
thaw the crystals
and the bluebirds
have returned
to the sycamore tree.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
A scuba diver, head first like a dolphin,
goes in to the ocean, 100 feet down
in semi-darkness finds this apparition
something beautiful to behold in motion,
really really big and mysterious it appears
gliding gracefully spewing wonderment,
inviting reverence from all kinds of marine life
Clearly apologetic, for being out of place,
though he has encroached, in to a world
though not far from the sea surface,
yet in a depth where human has no place
all his scientific temper got evaporated
a simple villager now, gripped by wonder.
All he could think of anyone
fitting in to such magnificence
was God Almighty,himself.
"How do you do God?" he stutters,
aware that in plankton filled darkness
the mighty man is at the mercy of
the behemoth, looming large above.
The phenomenon in question,
***** whale"as we know him,
smiles and burps happily "Fantastic"
then he dives 6000 feet down, looking
for a colossal squid, succulent to be sure
the whole reason for him to play God
at this depth for sea creatures that lose
bearing in the haze of challenging depths.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 5:59 AM UTC
Girl, you're already
A walking genocide.
Armed with your
favorite prescription
and all the reasons
why
you wanna escape
the inside
With a bomb strapped
and wire tapped
to your heart beat
to the only constant
of grace
that you stepped out of
in the stutters you gait
Steady your impulses girl
you don't need another slip-up
some emotional trigger
Blowing you
out of proportion
out of your body
The one you were
never comfortable with
From what you saw
should be beauty
the red herring
of reality distortion
the magazines
the billboards
the Goddess abortion
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 3:02 PM UTC
The cuckoo, like a hawk in flight,
With narrow pointed wings
Whews o’er our heads—soon out of sight
And as she flies she sings:
And darting down the hedgerow side
She scares the little bird
Who leaves the nest it cannot hide
While plaintive notes are heard.
I’ve watched it on an old oak tree
Sing half an hour away
Until its quick eye noticed me
And then it whewed away.
Its mouth when open shone as red
As hips upon the brier,
Like stock doves seemed its winged head
But striving to get higher
It heard me rustle and above leaves
Soon did its flight pursue,
Still waking summer’s melodies
And singing as it flew.
So quick it flies from wood to wood
’Tis miles off ‘ere you think it gone;
I’ve thought when I have listening stood
Full twenty sang—when only one.
When summer from the forest starts
Its melody with silence lies,
And, like a bird from foreign parts,
It cannot sing for all it tries.
‘Cuck cuck’ it cries and mocking boys
Crie ‘Cuck’ and then it stutters more
Till quick forgot its own sweet voice
It seems to know itself no more.
4.5k
I am
Says my heart
Wait!
It stutters,
His
My eyes
In my head
Have noticed
A man, No
Not him
I search
Him?
No
Not his!
They cry
Finally
In the corner
A boy, my age,
Quiet, shy, sleeping alone
My heart saw you
I am
His
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
The poison was burning,
Burning through me,
Setting my veins on fire,
Battling my heart,
I can't stop fighting,
They're still coming,
I start to falter,
To fail,
I'm sorry,
So sorry,
My heart stutters,
The is not what I wanted,
My eyes flutter,
I can't stop it,
My limbs lay useless,
I won't be a monster,
My mind wanders,
I think of you,
My ears are blind,
I hear you,
I want to join you,
But cruel fate withholds,
My heart stops,
I sigh,
I love you,
My eyes open,
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
Old grump not so pleased
Out to see what's at ease
In the winter cold deep freezing
Gentle words melts his heart that's a first
Oh! Quit teasing
Slow to talk yes he stutters which we find kind'er amusing
Rolled away cast aside old and frail free from using
What's the fuss all about in his eyes it looked confusing
Watch your step! Missed a step
Broke a leg not so easy
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
Sunset grazing the horizon of my day
Where has it gone? My heart in dismay
The beauty escapes from the sides of my eyes
While my heart beats faster and faster
For the anticipation of the missing day.
Of all the things I want to accomplish
None of them done
Would I be content if only I could halt
To see the gratitude I yearn to express
But can’t find a way among all the distress
My chest crawls unreasonably
Watching a beautiful day turning into night
In contrast to my fear of missing out
My hand stutters and I reach for stillness
Although the wants seem so endless.
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 1:17 PM UTC
Plush beads of summer rain gently kiss the windows,
pitter pattering steadily in contrast
to the low hums and stutters
of the red coffee ***
that saves many souls
lost in a daze of former slumber;
a lengthy stretch,
she leans back against the cream,
or maybe more ivory,
sofa couch,
wiggling it up and down her frame
and in its last push
released with a crack through the tips of her toes.
scrumptious smells of eggs and breakfast meats,
brunch is always her
favorite hour,
balancing the crisp texture of toast
against the delightful spritz
of OJ,
sometimes blended with a splash of something
sparkling.
the chords and rhythms that thrummed and purred,
the puttering, the humming, the stuttering,
a baritone chuckle
escaping his smirking mouth,
the moment so inescapably
charming,
how satisfying their ritual felt.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
written November 5, 2014
"I get jealous of your ex lovers
But, I have to remember X is just a number
You see, in math that's all we do
We factor out every situation until we find the solution -
X
But, just like the fed up kid in the back row who screams out, 'Miss, when are we going to use this in real life?!' and she stutters on an answer
X is just a number, not an answer to your solutions
I keep thinking about her face on your woman crush Wednesday
How am I so crushed knowing she once was the apple of your eye when I don't even know the girl?
Much less, know you..
Met on an app called Tinder
Yet you hinder the strings pull me in so tightly with your sweet and kind demeanor
It's not right of me to be jealous - when you give me all of your attention
I need to be grateful
For I am the one you're up all night texting
And the one who's on your mind when you fall into your lonely bed at night
And she's just a forgotten face remaining on your Instagram page"
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 10:58 PM UTC
I can't stop drawing her
Though the ink stutters from my pen
Are no form of the lines of her face
She humbly takes them anyway.
She has no place in my eyes
But for the gentle push of her petal hands
On my page, while I sit and
Let my mind take the toll.
The still morning is pulled in
Or the night claiming the light
But I am still here
Drawing her,
Her poise
Her smile
Her attentive eyes
And the knowing, the truth
It's with her every time.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC
You can't take it
You can't live with it
The pain is too much
The kids at school
They keep hurting you
Or maybe it was your father
Maybe your mother
Maybe they're both dead
Like how you will be soon
Maybe you're in love with abusers
Maybe you are simply sad
But either way
You can't take it anymore
You take a rope from the attic
You grab a gun from the cuboard
You steal a knife from the kitchen
You're at the bridge over the river
You're on a railway with a train
Wherever you are
Whatever you have
It doesn't matter now
You take a rope from the attic
The kids at school
They taunt you and laugh
They say they wish you were dead
Well their wish is coming true
You're suffocating
You're silent
You're gone
You grab a gun from the cuboard
Safety is off
You're in your room
You whisper a goodbye
To the father who hurt you
To the brother who loves you
BANG
The shot can be heard for miles
You're gone
You steal a knife from the kitchen
Your mother's prying eyes
Who breaks your heart
With hateful words
You're in your bathroom
You hold the knife to your wrist
Your lifeline is bleeding out
The blood is on the white floor
You're gone
You're on a bridge
There's a cold and fast flowing
River of tears and sorrow
Your mother is gone
Your father is gone
Time for you to go
You leave your other family
Who are grieving with you
You jump
You fall
You're gone
You're at a railway with a train
Ready to hit you with pain
It wouldn't be the driver's fault
It was the abuser
You thought loved you
But you were wrong
You are hit by the train
It stops with your broken heart
You're gone
Where is the rope burn?
It burns your parents
They weep and wail
They lost their child
They're sunk into a sea of sadness
They read the note
They beg dear god above
" why were we not enough? "
Who did you shoot?
Your brother's chest
He's staring silently
At his sibling's dead body
As he stutters and sobs
He wonders
" why was I not enough? "
Who was stabbed?
Why your sister
She doesn't know who to talk to
She doesn't know who can help
As she screams for the neighbors
As your heartbeat stops
" why was I not enough? "
Who drowned?
The family you left behind
Your uncle is silent
Your aunt is shocked
Your cousins, your grandparents
They cant believe it
" why were we not enough? "
Where is the wound?
It bleeds in your friends' hearts
No matter how many you have
Or rather had
They can't stop crying
They can't stop thinking
" why were we not enough? "
Your name is in the papers
You're on the front covers
The world is full of tears
The news reporter is upset
There's a book with your name
There's ****** roses on your grave
Marked with your name
You stop
You think
You put away the rope
You put the gun back
You replace the knife
You walk away from the bridge
You run off the railway
You hide your tears in the rain
But you think
Think, think.
Maybe you can live one more day
Or two days, three days,
Four days, five days, six days
A week or two
A month or more
A year or so
Maybe forever
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 9:33 AM UTC
Dropped off in a desert.
Combat uniform tight against me.
Sweat gripping my skin in a desperate plea
For sanity to return, so I may escape.
Gunfire stutters its loud whispers of death against my eardrums.
Explosions drown out screams. My own?
I blink. The dust engulfs my body as I writhe on the ground;
Fetal position my permanent placement.
Longing for the ground to swallow me whole,
To the comfort of death's womb.
Cries of, "Get the hell up! What are you? This is a man's war!"
I get up.
The gun at my side like an old man's artificial hip;
Comfort and support in an unstable land.
I look at the chaos and depravity around me.
This is supposed to be Heaven to me,
Yet the combat boots feel too heavy.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 7:59 AM UTC
I ask what your favourite word is.
You say you don’t have one, and
I don’t understand.
See. I’m a poet.
I tried hard not to be,
Rejected it with every
Fibre of who I am but
Words form in ways I can’t
Negate.
See,
You speak and I notice
There’s more in what you say than
You know.
Your voice is delicate,
Not in the way you sound words
But the way you phrase sentences,
Like the subject is something to be
hidden behind premises.
Some people grab chance by the throat,
****** you right into the center,
Until you’re drowning in meaning
And unable to listen to anything but the
Beat,
B-,
Beat,
Of your heart but
Not you.
I can respect that.
You’re all tact and logic and
It’s not about feeling
It’s about thought process and
I still don’t understand.
See, my tongue is clumsy,
It stutters and stumbles and smashes its way through life,
But it finds meaning where there isn’t any,
Notes how you say “Spoke”, not “talked”,
How you dance through every word in the English language because
Deciding on the right one
Has to be perfect.
I think that,
You are perfect.
My favourite word is puddle.
I don’t know why, but
When I say it, my tongue kicks
my teeth and
It reminds me of the way my
Consonants get heavier with
******* in my brain.
It makes language ridiculous,
Because the end of its vowel is so sudden
It should cut
But it’s so ******* round.
Puddle.
I can’t explain, not in words,
But I smile when you say it and
I promise you that sometimes
language is less about logic
And more about that feeling
in your gut
When you look
at me and verbs flow out of your mouth
And for once you’re not thinking
And, -
"I love you."
If you thought, it wouldn’t be true and -
"I love you."
Cogs whir to a halt and,
"I love you."
I don’t trust you for a second because
My mind is now skipping stones across oceans
Waiting for depth to show, yet
There’s nothing below,
but still,
Sail away with me.
Let’s leave language behind and use touch to define
The borders between where I start
And you stop.
We’ll find they’re less obvious than we’d thought,
Because I love you.
Not in the way that I say it but
In the way that your presence makes my stomach churn out musical notes
And I was broken, but I don’t want to seem desperate and
I guess that when you say you that don’t have a favourite
I realise,
Puddle’s a scapegoat.
My favourite word is whatever name you’d give for the
Goosebumps on your skin when I touch you.
My favourite word is the colour of your eyes.
My favourite word is the way your voice goes real high when you’re excited.
My favourite word is how I can feel where you touched my flesh, for days after we last met.
My favourite word
Is you
But I’m too shy to say it.
So here, take puddle,
And run away with it.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 3:07 AM UTC
I find your strength within your weakness,
and your spontaneousness stutters in the melody of your lisps.
I find the power in your unspoken favorite flavor,
and the taste leaks from a puncture of your unconscious gesture.
I find your pain in the discourse of your taciturn glance,
and your fear preserved with the muscles of your midnight beard.
I find a lot in the nothingness in your insolvent pocket,
I find joy, glamour and an ignited cello.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC