"surer" poems
They say that you are the lung of the world
An umbrella for the street light.
I know you can, and this I trust
Turn my bad habit into something of use
Unlike dear reflection, contemplation under
The stars.
At the concourse of many lives,
How much spite you must have caught,
I ‘hale a generation’s lot
Could I ask cleanliness that follows me
Into silence? Surely in the summer of its
Passionate body—
Surer towards its autumn.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
*To every soul who offered me joy,
Comforting and cajoling,
To you, I am grateful.
To every soul who taught me hurt,
Gifting me lessons of woe,
To you, I am grateful.
To every soul who loved me,
Your love is my beacon,
I have discovered you in that warmth,
I have beheld you in that luminescence,
To you, I am grateful.
To every soul who abandoned me,
You have nudged me on
Nearer and surer, to my grand source.
To you, I am grateful.
Whether I may realize,
Whether I may trust,
I have found the supreme Radiance
In this universe
Just as simply as I opened my eyes.
To you, I am grateful.*
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
I am empty, yet I am whole
I burn with passion, desire, hot
Yet I am frozen to the core, cold.
My steps are surer than a Lions,
Yet insecurity ravages my mind like a bad disease.
My thoughts impulsive, extemporaneous
Yet cool, calm and calculated are my middle names.
Sometimes fear makes me weaker than a withering flower
But usually I'm bolder than a boxer, ducking, diving, bobbing, weaving
I can be loud, raucous, unbecoming
or quiet, shy and unwelcoming
I prefer my own space
But I'm your best friend
I can follow with the obedience of a dog
But I love setting trends.
I am an honest liar
A well read idiot
A losing champion
A logical creative
Beautifully ugly
Perfectly flawed
What I'm saying, is I'm human.
A walking contradiction
I'm an Oxymoron,
Yet I am not.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 7:48 PM UTC
On Lolham Brigs in wild and lonely mood
I’ve seen the winter floods their gambols play
Through each old arch that trembled while I stood
Bent o’er its wall to watch the dashing spray
As their old stations would be washed away
Crash came the ice against the jambs and then
A shudder jarred the arches—yet once more
It breasted raving waves and stood agen
To wait the shock as stubborn as before
—White foam brown crested with the russet soil
As washed from new plough lands would dart beneath
Then round and round a thousand eddies boil
On tother side—then pause as if for breath
One minute—and engulphed—like life in death
Whose wrecky stains dart on the floods away
More swift than shadows in a stormy day
Straws trail and turn and steady—all in vain
The engulfing arches shoot them quickly through
The feather dances flutters and again
Darts through the deepest dangers still afloat
Seeming as faireys whisked it from the view
And danced it o’er the waves as pleasures boat
Light hearted as a thought in May—
Trays—uptorn bushes—fence demolished rails
Loaded with weeds in sluggish motions stray
Like water monsters lost each winds and trails
Till near the arches—then as in affright
It plunges—reels—and shudders out of sight
Waves trough—rebound—and fury boil again
Like plunging monsters rising underneath
Who at the top curl up a shaggy main
A moment catching at a surer breath
Then plunging headlong down and down—and on
Each following boil the shadow of the last
And other monsters rise when those are gone
Crest their fringed waves—plunge onward and are past
—The chill air comes around me ocean blea
From bank to bank the waterstrife is spread
Strange birds like snow spots o’er the huzzing sea
Hang where the wild duck hurried past and fled
On roars the flood—all restless to be free
Like trouble wandering to eternity
3.7k
I'll be surer than ever,
That, I don't belong here.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 4:17 PM UTC
No other thing in this uncertain world
Tastes sweeter and surer
Than your name on my lips
A grace, undeserved
Bestowed upon me
For all the times you've held me
And I do not know what I did
In this life, or another
To be blessed by the heavens
Unsure if I was chosen somehow
Or by some stroke of luck
Came out from misfortunes
Given the sweetest grace
I am still somehow in doubt
If I am worthy
But deemed so by your touch
Igniting everything in me
And I am alive, living finally
Maybe it is true
That mercy changes you
Because now I have been renewed
And if this is a mistake
Against the world and all of nature
Then it is one I am willing to make
You have been named after fate
But in my mind
I call you sweeter things
You say that you cannot see it
And maybe so, maybe it is me
Because lately I have been realizing
I am the one who is lucky
Sep 2, 2022
Sep 2, 2022 at 1:54 PM UTC
I am truer than my lies,
Louder than my doubts,
Surer than my insecurities;
I am fairer than my flaws,
Heavier than my airs,
Quieter than my anxieties;
I am stronger than my failures,
Calmer than my rages,
Happier than my tears;
I am humbler than my vanities,
Wiser than my mistakes,
Bigger than my fears.
(c) emeraldine087
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 6:14 AM UTC
When they see my songs
They will sigh and say,
“Poor soul, wistful soul,
Lonely night and day.”
They will never know
All your love for me
Surer than the spring,
Stronger than the sea;
Hidden out of sight
Like a miser’s gold
In forsaken fields
Where the wind is cold.
1.6k
...you stand surely to shipwreck.
all hands on deck.
accordion three-four lilts amelie
hymn hummed
beneath frenetic waltz of fingers
Rain-bitten and dumb
pirouette recessional to the sea
and such enchanting cobbled waves
how truly quaint rosy tempest in the square
pour down the dirge to murky drain.
throw in the bottle, the maps, the ropes
pirouette recessional to the sea
lastly heave-ho
i throw in me.
Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 9:33 PM UTC
'I think I am fine' — repeat as you grow surer and surer.
*1.) That the world will not end.
2.) That you will be laughing, if it does.
3.) That you are indeed fine,*
even if you are weeping, even if you are sure the inky black sky is about to fall through; this is not the house you grew up in, here are not your parents, and this time you can take care of yourself. Start with empty lungs in an empty bedroom and shaky breaths. Start with uncertain footsteps. I told you, that is not the earth shaking. Not today. Instead, what if i said it was something new growing inside you? Something green, something leafy. rearranging your insides, finding space. Let the air in, let it rattle your caged heart like a breeze will tussle with an open window. Pause. This is breathing. Next is laughing. Back to crying... but without the shrieks. Start with quickly getting up and move on to slowly getting better. Start with a splash of water, your toes on the sand on the beach again. Touch your tears that taste like saltwater. I am going to be fine, I know. Tomorrow I will be me again (the me i wanna be). Tomorrow. A day in a string of neverending tomorrows.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
Surer knowledge by cross examination
of witnesses than belief in imaginations
Will more certainty than mindless chance
Shakespeare was a man rather than monkeys
and Eve than washed up fishes learning to walk
Apr 18, 2021
Apr 18, 2021 at 1:19 AM UTC
I think you take my breath away.
People always say that as an endearing thing.
But I think you actually physically take my breath away.
I don't know how.
Maybe it was when you layed your head on my chest.
Or tangled your fingers with mine.
Or felt safe enough to drift off to sleep in my arms.
All I know is that I think you take my breath away.
I just wish I was surer of you.
Because I want that feeling for eternity.
But I don't think you are my eternity.
~S.C.Kelley
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 9:23 PM UTC
Maybe you’ve gone with Moss Bros
Or you’ve stuck to trusty M&S
But I can point to a surer way
to ensure you’re dressed for success
*
No matter how long you’ve spent
Adjusting your silks and laces
No matter how hard it was
to talk him out of his lairy braces
*
Whether you selected a Windsor knot
Or your favourite velvet bow tie
[A bold choice, Toby.]
I can share some well-worn wisdom
By which you should always abide
*
I know a dress code tested by time
Simple words to which we should hold
Simple but essential for all of us here
So let’s check we’re all properly clothed
*
Next time you’re walking down the red carpet
And they ask, ‘Who are you wearing?’
There's no need to look for the neckline label
Don’t waste your time with checking
*
Every day you both put on Christ
You kit yourselves out with the King
Knowing this is all that you’ll need
For whatever the day will bring
*
But like royal robes or battle armour
His garments come in layers
Put them on in careful sequence
Buttoned up with tailored prayers
*
You begin with feather-lite Compassion
Laced with silken Kindness
It’s followed by soft Humility
A garment that’s forever timeless
*
You add to this tough Gentleness
That’s core to the Saviour’s style
With a lining of weighty Patience
So you can each stay versatile
*
You ensure the ensemble’s been well steamed
With a fierce, cleansing Forgiveness
You set the dial high enough
To remove past creases of grievance
*
Now, some might think this will be enough
That that is ample fussing
But there’s one remaining layer
That you know isn’t worth you rushing
*
Over each of these rich garments
to keep them all in place
you put on the strong bond of Love
like a long full-body embrace
*
Then whatever the weather or season
on each and every occasion
You can both enjoy the Peace of knowing
You’ll never need alterations
*
You may have heard it said
And with Thanks we can affirm
Some fashions do remain timeless
And this one's designed for long term
Oct 6, 2024
Oct 6, 2024 at 10:24 AM UTC
Thoughts of her and I'm back home
So happy to be there
I'll pull her tresses free
And stroke her long soft hair
I'll linger kissing her
And pull her warm and close
Time stands still one more time
On that old moonlit coast
It's surer than tomorrow
As I've learned she's kissed another
But yesterday...
We'll always have each other
Oct 7, 2010
Oct 7, 2010 at 4:02 PM UTC
I've always known what I wanted.
I felt like I had everything mapped out
and the only thing that could go wrong was that I wouldn't have enough time.
Well, time started to pass and the plan started to fade.
It would be erased and
a new idea came to mind,
only to be replaced
later in time by another.
Each one seeming
more surer than the last.
They all were never
as permanent as I hoped.
Only becoming temporary
because I couldn't make up my mind
and decide.
Time went by still
and even the thought
of the future began to fade.
It faded fast,
just like the others.
But it wasn't replaced.
The form of the "future" was taken over by emptiness
and unable to react,
I began accepting that there
was nothing for me anymore.
I couldn't find something
to be interested in.
I was lacking a muse,
motivation,
inspiration.
I shut everyone out;
afraid of losing the
people I was close to.
It became a struggle to
make it through a day.
It was harder to find
a reason to get out
of bed in the morning.
It felt like the emptiness
had come and consumed
what I had left,
if I had anything left at all.
There was no freedom,
a prisoner to my own problems.
The possiblity to end it all
hung over my head;
but I never took it,
frightened to be called weak,
afraid.
Society had made me an outcast,
getting comfort when I could
and simultaneously learning to
not rely on others.
Only I could be my own best friend.
Misunderstood
and perceived as happy,
I carried on the charade,
the reason unknown.
I couldn't be taken seriously
as I was always known
for being so carefree
and happy.
That fun-loving girl
was torn apart inside,
but she faked a smile,
lying to herself and
everyone else by pretending
it was okay.
This went on and yet
no inspiration for the future
could be found.
The time yet to come
was still a vast space of
jumbled dreams with no way
to unscramble them.
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 1:40 PM UTC
negotiating modernity
at the MoMA
one's pushed along
mass conveyances
inertial rush an
intractable force
surer then the weight
of Newton's gravity
routes precarious
contemplative moments
nails scratching
Pollack's #9
in desperate attempt
to hold ground
Mall of America's
crushing crowds
vagrants pacing
the large garages
barely glimpsing
composite walls
the open spaces
bagging fast food art
not a bit of intimacy
in the **** place
Music Selection
Ornette Coleman
with Eric Dolphy
Free Jazz
2/24/11
NYC
jbm
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 8:41 AM UTC
She moves like she's one of the amorphous personalities painted somewhere
Along the angled framework of her body pattern:
Handcrafted with the vivacious energy inherent
In my far-seeing dreams the vision of a long-ago queen of the holiest swamps
Traversing them coldly, shining her starlight to dispel all my awful ugly nightmares.
Riding sidesaddle with the billows of morning
Hair wisped about by the wind and blowing watercolor across
The beautiful blooming valleys of her crescent-shaded eye frame.
And weaving out from the delicate anthers of slyly tangled lashes
Comes the glittering deep ribbons loosely noosed about me with suction,
And it turns out that I can survive for ever without food or water
From only one such glance.
Lost in that glassy prism container like an obedient insect, forced
To love himself because all his misfortunes are waved away and explained
By the invisible guiding lines raised in joy at each corner of her faintly blushing lip-land.
Well, Breath-Stealer, even if we can only meet softly now -
A vanishing semblance caught by cold air on our exhales perhaps - soon,
Our individual apparitions will flesh themselves out of the nowhere of time coincidences
And out thankful togetherness can coagulate like feather cracks in crystal:
Two human forms finally able to ignore the vase between them
Sooner than the closest oceans that wave to us,
And surer than sunrise.
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 2:25 PM UTC
I've written
the same horse ****
more than I
care to admit.
(rain, wash me out of disdain)
Surer now
that I'm jaded
with passion,
quickly aged,
and grey.
May rain wash the grey out of me
(color from heaven in rain)
Or, I swear
I'll repeat the same chord
until I fade out
Zero sum
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 12:21 AM UTC
It doesn't matter how sweet I am, or how kind I feel that I have to be. All that really matters to me is you, and how based on me you will perceive,
The other men, the other shoes, the many soles slowly passing by. The kind of guys which you might keep, and even ultimately try.
But I hope you see what is truly weak, after sharing such strong arms as these. I hold you now, but not in hand. I hold you still in great esteem.
If only you would esteem yourself, you'd walk on surer, more stable feet. Not into the arms of a tragedy, but into the future which you deserve. Holding tight to a steadier hand than me.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC
I searched the world for treasure,
Traversed the globe from end to end,
Found no riches that could measure
Up to my family and friends.
They are worth more than anything,
they are precious beyond compare
To me they mean everything
My life is richer with them there.
Without them life would be poorer
They are priceless; family, friends.
In life there is nothing surer,
They're all that matters in the end.
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 4:02 PM UTC
Speak my mind like I'm preaching
People listen because they can follow
I speak loud and true as if teaching
Their faults and insecurities need to go
My voice revealing a new path to travel
They realize they're not alone in the fight
Hearts beating, life's woes to unravel
Taking surer steps as if given new sight
Unknown to them I keep my struggle
Deaf to my own life changing advice
All my problems and pain, I juggle
Preach without practice, stuck in a vice
I wish I could make my own choice
To wake up and listen to my voice
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 12:58 AM UTC
242
When we stand on the tops of Things—
And like the Trees, look down—
The smoke all cleared away from it—
And Mirrors on the scene—
Just laying light—no soul will wink
Except it have the flaw—
The Sound ones, like the Hills—shall stand—
No Lighting, scares away—
The Perfect, nowhere be afraid—
They bear their dauntless Heads,
Where others, dare not go at Noon,
Protected by their deeds—
The Stars dare shine occasionally
Upon a spotted World—
And Suns, go surer, for their Proof,
As if an Axle, held—
907
Two hundred and forty pounds, and not an ounce of confidence.
I’ve got weight enough for two women, and a heart heavy enough for three,
but I’m still waiting for the one.
Not a single date to my name, with Senior Prom a week away.
What happened next, the blind man who walked into The *** of Gold
called miraculous.
It was five feet, four inches, one hundred and twenty pounds of she’s too
good for me. Miss Horizon High School: the past star of my silent affections.
I cue my minstrels as the fairy tale begins:
First it was the ‘yes’, followed by a date that ended with a fuzzy crown.
Then it was a quiet love that lived in awkward poems, freed from text
by her appreciation.
Graduation came, the two of us on stage, Valedictorians bringing in the future,
helping turn the page. Life was like a book, and I the people’s king, the
man who’d conquered everything.
I knew this more than I knew myself, I knew it better than anything
I’d learned from life. I was surer than any man had ever been
that this was God. He exists, and He loves me.
When I’d fall God would catch me, just so I could keep on jumping from
the tree to see if I could fly. This feeling was His gift, and as a humble man,
I thanked him, instead of her.
Mar 30, 2011
Mar 30, 2011 at 8:10 PM UTC
Our histories words all but lost
like tender garden yield to frost
so fallow, feign your fettered fear
that surer stalks can pierce the air.
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 12:47 PM UTC