"suspence" poems
ohhh the things I want to do with you
the thoughts that cross my mind
perhaps it would shock, ideas so blue
temptations await for us to find
I flirt with ideas, weighed against
reality of my bodies desire
nerves all exposed, left in suspence
just waiting for you to take me higher
Apr 13, 2012
Apr 13, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
take money out of the equation, and sack all the waiters and return to tribalism, the former statement of non-intellectual socialism, the sort of inherent: in us there is a togetherness, no more service from strangers in the hierarchy of enriching a piece of metal or a wavy rectangle of paper with “necessary” symbolism of authority of the status quo... but that’s not going to happen... the pickpocket picts are no more... the normalising normans glared at the hastings pinnacle and integrated with the saxon women... the saracens became surnames in poland... actually that last one is very true... a branch of my family has the surname saracen.
so i’m reading this article
and i’m hardly debasing myself,
it’s not that i’m referring
to sartre’s negation of certain things
whether animate and essential or
inanimate and existential... in that formula:
i deny therefore i am... because i can’t deny my existence...
and 2000 years down the line i’ll be pitchfork
argument in an atheist’s mouth anyway (nothing is certain in the realm of cognition, hence the cartesian invocation of doubt),
it's not like i'm referring to inappropriate pronoun usage...
so **** a doodle do... twang the strings on the mandolin...
i’m referring to this classical reference of the shy literary figure
unable to spark conversation with strangers...
god, i really love strangers, and talking to them!
why? there is no personal history, there’s no past,
there are no reference points... it’s just the moment and nothing else,
the perfect anonymity project...
not the matrix philosophy (easily invoked because
it has a flimsy plot-line and loads of images...
just what the doctor ordered for the english speaking masses
with a very naked orthography - i.e. if it’s on the internet
it’s not “real life...” as is this computer i’m using
it’s not even here!)
of using the deep web to join the rats and etc.;
i love talking to strangers, i can forget myself
and enter the realm of discretion about how within randomisation
of eggshell, yoke and cockroach there’s also the randomisation
of the interactants to balance out the need for a theological unit, god...
it’s great... it’s like... it’s like... life.
defining the genre of biography proper? never backtrack...
always sidetrack... i can’t be bothered living a life with cocktail parties
and romps and romantic comedies to look forward to
once all the animalism becomes domesticated and a
gym-session complaints column in a newspaper.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC
I have been to the deep blue
Where my faith had tested my fears
Boundries were crossed
And I had raised my own waters
So high, the sun began to disappear
It was dark there in the shallow
My heart was racing, time running
As my body submerged into- suspence
While the deep I faced challenges
Many creature's in Adam's ale
Shark attacks and eel whip lash
Fish that snap and jelly fish stings
Not knowing there are lessons taught here
I earned trust in faith and I rise again
On the pier I lay sprawled
In all my glory to the sky
It started to pour showers of healing
I rose from drowning, losing breath
Now free to continue my journey
In this baptism on my crown
I had been ready for this world
And these storms blossemed rain showers
Over everything I had faced
Will continue to remind me again
It can't remain stromy forever.
© S .T. Rebel of Eden
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 6:22 AM UTC
Well, to start off with
The title doesn't make any sense
It's either way too long or just too short
And there just wasn't enough suspence
You forgot to capitalize your letters
You better keep an eye on the flow
You're telling the story way too fast
Or, I'm sorry, it was a little too slow
Your spelling is just simply awful
A little punctuation would be nice
The words you use are too simple
You're saying the same thing twice
You don't even know what a syllable count is
I don't know what you're trying to say
There just isn't enough emotion
It shouldn't have ended that way
Your rhymes are too repetitious
There's simply no rhyming at all
You really need to practice your typing
Your font is always too small
You really need to start all over
I'm sorry, this one had me snoring
You must be haunted by writer's block
I find it a little too boring
I guess everyone has their critics
It seems like they're always annoyed
But our poems aren't written to please them
They're written to be enjoyed
Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 8:05 AM UTC
Crumbs of heaven
fall wing-soft
yet you and I
know nothing of manna or prophecy.
In the midst of
trodden unbidden
inner indivisibles,
habit’s anvils restrain us.
Yet attest this to one small place of untouched bliss
where we may grace the light
now and so often
extinguished
in barren land.
The foreign treader
of a dawn held wish
unfurls from our robes,
hangs us at an altar,
and no-where attempts to keep secret the name of commitment
from the carol of lip or tongue.
Silence the two-headed voice beyond the shroud,
hear this life
and the secret of light.
Entwine and wind
anticipate the suspence
and future of what will be possible.
Hold off
hold off,
stir, sweet one
nurture our convergence.
MChallis © 2015
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 7:10 AM UTC
Claw out my guts
With veratious flare
Good intention cuts
Lost to nightmare
Free the negativity
Sergical prowess
What does it seem to be
More than generic stress
The battle rages on
War in my mind
Sense seems gone
Paranoia defined
Fear the shadow creatures
Because they talk back
Disjointed movement and features
Terror,suspence,then they attack
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 11:34 AM UTC
The suspence of closed curtains in a **** theatre.
You Were Never Ready!
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
As darkness turns to light
Day turns to night
And the clock glides left to right...
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 8:44 AM UTC