"swiftness" poems
nearer:breath of my breath:take not they tingling
limbs from me:make my pain their crazy meal
letting they tigers of smooth sweetness steal
slowly in dumb blossoms of new mingling:
deeper:blood of my blood:with upwardcringing
swiftness plunge these leopards of white ream
this pith of darkness:carve an evilfringing
flower of madness on gritted lips
and on sprawled eyes squirming with light insane
chisel the killing flame that dizzily grips.
Querying greys between mouthed houses curl
thirstily. Dead stars stink. dawn. Inane,
the poetic carcass of a girl
10k
Wingless yet so high,
flies deep into sky.
Swiftness impossible to match
even edges of time cannot catch.
Within a blink can reach any nation.
Such is my Imagination.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 11:54 AM UTC
I am a supreme
Light framed being
Who leaves ferrari's
In the dust
I am sorry for your
Jealousy as I am
Totally terrific
And love wearing
My fabulous coat
Fiercely independent I
Imprint the air with
My personal spots
My proud individuality
Nothing out of reach
I wait for something to inspire
As I hunt lightly
Positioning intelligently
And quickly
Pads on fire
I grab the ground
As I grip the world
With the sharpest claw
As evolving and revolving
Forces compel me with desire
My vibrant cells flicker
Waiting for the right trigger
Spinning and twisting
They collapse into air
As I rush and rush
chasing and chasing
My focus still like stone
Lands lightly like a feather
As I am clear as
Diamond or glass
Empty of thoughts I am a tunnel
The wind blows through
As I run and run
Soft and agile
I can quickly change
Direction or pace
Perfect balance my
Tail acts as a fulcrum
It is as though a
Silver thread was attached
From high up in heaven
Moving on an electric circuit
I am lightning through the air
Stretching like elastic
Expanding into spaces
I become a mile long
Reaching and Reaching
Into proud new places
Slipping through the air
As though someone
Had oiled my hair
I slide weightless
Air born on ice skates
As I catch my hare
With her swiftness
We find she lifts us
With her fire we catch desire
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
Speed
The rapidity in moving or proceeding
Swiftness
Rate of motion or progress
Full
MAXIMUM
Optimum rate of motion
It’s all been SO fast
We've made SO much progress
In SO VERY little time
This is our optimal rate of motion
6 months
181 days
4344 hours
15638400 seconds
Our season of love thus far
Countless kisses
Hundreds of pricele$$ moments
ENDLESS “I love you”s
And it only goes on from here
I can’t wait to see it A L L
to breathe in every moment
to feel every luscious touch
to taste every sweet kiss
to hear every way you say my name, like no one else does
SO stick around
Let us watch this relationship
Blossom, progress, grow,
Speed
Together, my love
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
I heard him at first, though barely a sound,
But I saw him, I saw me, on sinister ground.
*I am the caution and stillness and sniffing the air,
I am the fearing the danger that’s not even there,
I am the ‘watch where you tread’ and the silence and hush,
The always on lookout, the hardest to touch.
I am the quickness and briskness and swiftness and speed,
I am the flash of a tail and a warning to heed,
I am the bounding and leaping and steam in the woods,
The danger apparent, the fear understood.*
And I felt myself crying, for as soft as the breeze,
My beautiful deer melted into the trees.
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 4:16 AM UTC
1053
It was a quiet way—
He asked if I was his—
I made no answer of the Tongue
But answer of the Eyes—
And then He bore me on
Before this mortal noise
With swiftness, as of Chariots
And distance, as of Wheels.
This World did drop away
As Acres from the feet
Of one that leaneth from Balloon
Upon an Ether street.
The Gulf behind was not,
The Continents were new—
Eternity it was before
Eternity was due.
No Seasons were to us—
It was not Night nor Morn—
But Sunrise stopped upon the place
And fastened it in Dawn.
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Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood
Upon our side, we who were strong in love!
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven!—Oh! times,
In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways
Of custom, law, and statute, took at once
The attraction of a country in romance!
When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights,
When most intent on making of herself
A prime Enchantress—to assist the work
Which then was going forward in her name!
Not favoured spots alone, but the whole earth,
The beauty wore of promise, that which sets
(As at some moment might not be unfelt
Among the bowers of paradise itself )
The budding rose above the rose full blown.
What temper at the prospect did not wake
To happiness unthought of? The inert
Were roused, and lively natures rapt away!
They who had fed their childhood upon dreams,
The playfellows of fancy, who had made
All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength
Their ministers,—who in lordly wise had stirred
Among the grandest objects of the sense,
And dealt with whatsoever they found there
As if they had within some lurking right
To wield it;—they, too, who, of gentle mood,
Had watched all gentle motions, and to these
Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more wild,
And in the region of their peaceful selves;—
Now was it that both found, the meek and lofty
Did both find, helpers to their heart’s desire,
And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish;
Wcre called upon to exercise their skill,
Not in Utopia, subterranean fields,
Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where!
But in the very world, which is the world
Of all of us,—the place where in the end
We find our happiness, or not at all!
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If I could show you
how it would be
if freedom were
in our palms
how it would feel to
be released,
a caged dove
set into the cooling
swiftness of air
If I could dry your tears
and make you understand
that this will be
more than ok
because happiness is right
around the corner
just a little faith
yes
just a little belief
in the mysterious ,
unknown workings
The Universe has my back
and if it has mine,
I have yours
there is not one moment
that you will see
this back turned
or face hidden
my arms are meant
to enfold you
my calm to steady you
Now
it feels like
being stuck
in a wheel
round and round
options limited
but once the break is made
I will be drifting up
my heart that dove
for I cannot let her die
(if I die a part of you dies, too)
and once you see me
spin her off into the light
the grace of heaven
allowing me to keep
my own ignition burning
you know you will have me
until the depths of sky
and into the wilds
of our
tender
forever
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 7:58 PM UTC
Dozing on a hammock
Strung between two towering palms
With the sky above-
color washed in turquoise blue
and the waters below
reflecting that heavenly hue,
you came to me
sailing in a dream
like the strains of a symphony
causing endless vibrations
in my solitary heart
you showed up
all too sudden
like a rainbow on my vacant sky
after a cloud burst of cloistered grief
to blaze it with iridescent shades
Your smile
embalmed my bruised spirit
with the coolness of a summer drizzle
falling, like manna
over starved Israelites
in their arduous odyssey
through blistering sands
Your passionate breath,
spewed on my face
bore the scent of opening buds
in the mazy tangle of wild creepers
growing dense in nearby woods.
Your amorous whispers
fell in my ears
with the sweetness of the melody
from Krishna’s flute
with Radha near ,love sick
her lips curled in an immaculate smile.
Your soft footsteps
like the jingle of a court dancer
echoed in the silence of my soul
with a hundred evocations
As the jingles
came nearer in synchronizing rhythm
I held out my arms
to clasp you in tight embrace
and reel you in frenzied jig
But you vanished,
vanished,
with the swiftness
of bubbles rising and breaking
in a beer glass,
leaving me to my desolate zone
The sky overhead had changed
into another shade
Still I lay in mid air,
with my eyes sealed tight
to re-live that dream
once again!
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 9:00 AM UTC
It seemed that out of battle I escaped
Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
Through granites which titanic wars had groined.
Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,
Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.
Then ,as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared
With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,
Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless.
And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, -
By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
With a thousand pains that vision's face was grained;
Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,
And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.
'Strange friend,' I said, 'here is no cause to mourn.'
'None,' said that other, 'save the undone years,
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
Was my life also; I went hunting wild
After the wildest beauty in the world,
Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
But mocks the steady running of the hour,
And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.
For by my glee might many men have laughed,
And of my weeping something had been left,
Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,
The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
Now men will go content with what we spoiled,
Or, discontent, boil ****** and be spilled.
They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress.
None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.
Courage was mine, and I had mystery,
Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery:
To miss the march of this retreating world
Into vain citadels that are not walled.
Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels,
I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,
Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
I would have poured my spirit without stint
But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.
Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.
I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned
Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
Let us sleep now...'
2.7k
she turned the questions in her eyes aside
and stealing away in the quiet
of the pine forest winters day
the taste of wood smoke was tangible on the sharp cold air
and his eyes hunted the ridge crest for sing of flames
as they hurried their steps along the rough hewn track
she carried the child whos silent contemplation
showed his understandings of the gravity of this flight
the bundle of possessions on his shoulder
weighed upon his mind
counselling himself not to regret casting it all aside should need arise
the woman and child so fragile and dear to his heart
mean so much more than mere trinkets of gold
he would surrender without pause life and limb to spare them
she was a smoky version of bobby dylan
complete with winged snakes in each hand
complete with a crown of jewels
and the thousand words dance
he was a seafaring man
they reached the shore of the sea
and found the wreckage of a sailing ship
her fine line speaking clear of her swiftness
and her appointments show without shyness
that she was of the finest portugal shipyards
they spent days making her seaworthy
laying up in the harsh tropical sun
neath the palm trees drinking *** from her stores
they put to sea in the birth of the new year
singing 'goodbye spanish ladies'
the three of them on the skiff tacking up-channel
trying to determine latitude by sighting
but a fog rolls in off the coast of grande bahama
as dawn breaks
man woman and grown child
the miles and the treasures cast aside
each wore on open hearted face
but neath the weary of sea miles
was their joys in the true riches
of eachothers soft hand entwined as they sailed into
a golden dusk
of a lesser throne
a kingdom of the sea
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
The men kept to themselves:
they were waiting for the swiftness of the last cyclists.
The women kept to themselves:
they were expecting the death of a boy on a Japanese schooner.
They all kepy to themselves-
dreaming of the open beaks of dying birds,
the sharp parasol that punctures
a recently flattened toad,
beneath silence with a thousand ears
and tiny mouths of water
in the canyons that resist
the violent attack on the moon.
The boy on the schooner was crying and hearts were breaking
in anguish for the witness and vigilance of all things,
and because of the sky blue ground of black footprints,
obscure names, saliva, and chrome radios were still crying.
It doesn't matter if the boy grows silent when stuck with the last pin,
or if the breeze is defeated in cupped cotton flowers,
because there is a world of death whose perpetual sailors will appear in the arches and
freeze you from behind the trees.
it's useless to look for the bend
where night loses its way
and to wait in ambush for a silence that has no
torn clothes, no shells, and no tears,
because even the tiny banquet of a spider
is enough to upset the entire equilibrium of the sky.
There is no cure for the moaning from a Japanese schooner,
nor for those shadowy people who stumble on the curbs.
The countryside bites its own tail in order to gather a bunch of roots
and a ball of yarn looks anxiously in the grass for unrealized longitude.
The Moon! The police. The foghorns of the ocean liners!
Facades of ***** of smoke, anemones, rubber gloves.
Everything is shattered in the night
that spread its legs on the terraces.
Everything is shatter in the tepid faucets
of a terrible silent fountain.
Oh, crowds! Loose women! Soldiers!
We will have to journey through the eyes of idiots,
open country where the docile cobras, coiled like wire, hiss,
landscapes full of graves that yield the freshest apples,
so that uncontrollable light will arrive
to frighten the rich behind their magnifying glasses-
the odor of a single corpse from the double source of lily and rat-
and so that fire will consume those crowds still able to **** around a moan
or on the crystals in which each inimitable wave is understood.
2.3k
after the Anacreontea
Liberal Nature did dispence
To all things Arms for their defence;
And some she arms with sin’ewy force,
And some with swiftness in the course;
Some with hard Hoofs, or forked claws,
And some with Horns, or tusked jaws.
And some with Scales, and some with Wings,
And some with Teeth, and some with Stings.
Wisdom to Man she did afford,
Wisdom for Shield, and Wit for Sword.
What to beauteous Woman-kind,
What Arms, what Armour has she’assigne’d?
Beauty is both; for with the Faire
What Arms, what Armour can compare?
What Steel, what Gold, or Diamond,
More Impassible is found?
And yet what Flame, what Lightning ere
So great an Active force did bear?
They are all weapon, and they dart
Like Porcupines from every part.
Who can, alas, their strength express,
Arm’d when they themselves undress,
Cap a pe with Nakedness?
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Am a Templar Knight whose allegiance is to Our Lord Jesus Christ
Sir Thomas de Charney is my name, Master of the fortress in Gaza
Was compelled to quill an account of an assault on the town of Ludd
My heart was also dazed and enamored by a young woman evermore
We left Gaza late in the day; I took 40 of my best knights with me
Fully clad in mail and helmets, we dashed long swords in scabbards
Short swords made at the ready to perlustrate with a days provisions
We headed east prepared to do battle, for God and for the cause
We approached Ludd; saw billowing smoke; heard strangled screams
I dispatched 35 knights throughout the municipality in groups of 5 each
My orders were; execute requisite to save townspeople from slaughter
An appurtenance to the initial order: no parley with these infidels
Before dismissing my men, I saw smolder swell left flank of the border
Saw a hovel, the thatch was burning out of control and spreading apace
Around the corner were three enemy soldiers crowding over someone
Until the last few years, I knew not what **** was; the worst in a man
Despite noise of city under siege, these ******** were intoxicated in sin
The remaining five knights accompanied me and covered the perimeter
I dismounted Petra, clutched the hilt of my long sword, made approach
The three heathen sensed my bearing and turned to meet their death
Then I saw her face and was transfixed
I would yield no prisoners
Today there would be justice for this woman
I pray for swiftness of divine retribution
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To be continued…………
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 1:54 PM UTC
There’s beauty in June
THERE IS BEUTY IN JUNE
Sparkly! its June in summer.
The leaves are bright and daze
The trees are ripe, and the Flowers are blooming with chaos
Swiftness is Dashing in the air. the sky is **** with bronze.
The Delights of sunray’s, The taste of Sage.
The woods are Timeless with Venus and Splendor.
The Clouds are Crunchy sizzling with navy and Dew.
The scenery is refreshing, and vineyards are dripping with oats
The Merry of Fowls Swaying towards the east
The respiration of haze to luminous day.
Surely there is Beauty in June
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 8:29 AM UTC
what's left to say
now that you've gone away
when the sky is cold and grey
and I'm lost without you
we met in the fall
among hues of orange and red
and when your eyes met mine
the sun shined on my heart for the first time
fall turned to winter
and the days flew by
with the swiftness of the migrating flocks
etched across the sky
winter turned to spring
oh what beauty it did bring,
as we walked
underneath the budding trees
spring turned to summer
but your feelings changed
as the seasons do
and it was time to say goodbye
to you.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
We are young!
We are strong!
Lungs to the heavens
as our hearts sing along!
We run as thousands
but we stand as one!
Souls in the heavens
with eyes on the gun, fun!
Pound our feet in the ground,
rumblin' rhythmic footsteps
move mountains with its sound!
Our words heat the air
as the ice cracks loud!
Their shiver is shared;
Let them stare, we don't care
Melt into the crowd,
and we still stand out!
Individual
Indivisible
Indescribable
Indefensible
Yet still feasible to stay reasonable
No treason is seasonal
No wall is that pliable
Withstand hate with strength undeniable
Vicious, and still likable
Quick to bite; to heal a wound
Get hurt, get chewed
Get back up, Get out soon
And we stand up in rythum
And get back in tune
Singing a song, to sing along
Where we all belong,
Where none is wrong
Mass hysteria with a flex of a muscle
Show them all just how strong
Long in the tooth
or still young
You too can have youth
melt in the crowd, stand your ground
or get swallowed up by the swiftness of our sound
Feb 9, 2012
Feb 9, 2012 at 11:57 PM UTC
Life, I stand on your bank’s edge, frightened of a
slip that might bring a struggle I could not win.
You flow by with no effort. I envy you.
You swirl as if some magic occurs within your darkest green
― the colour of the elm’s fullness during twilight.
You flow forever, past. I have little to offer but
three silver coins and my hope that you will accept them
with my anguished prayers.
Let them sink through your swiftness to your stillness.
Let them join others’ gifts
to clothe your bed in a radiant coverlet you have earned.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 11:14 AM UTC
Alas my friend,
we meet again
as seemingly meaningful
butterfly kisses and dangerous pillow talk
turn to candle lit confessions
of past regrets and future sins.
Words whispered in the wind
float past my eardrums to beat upon my brain.
Like I'm insane I strain to strain
them out as scribbles, scrawled and sprawled,
over pages telling stories of painful ages
and chain filled cages.
Once upon a time's and used to be's
are not here's and now's.
But if ups have downs,
and smiles have frowns.
Then fortunately for my dark past behind me
I have blank paper in front of me
and I don't so much write, as
quite literally induce lucid memory with literature
only your mind can see,
in the deepest of its own depths.
More towards the chest.
Where shadows dance
like jesters, dressed to impressed her
with moves so fluent they flow like fluid, I can do it.
Plant a seed the size of a grain of sand and
watch it grow like a Beanstalk, talk
about power. Watch your watch
as the second hand moves like the hour.
Now you're in my time.
So entwined is my mind body and soul
every word I let roll off my tongue
is like foreplay to a *********
And when I hit the rhyme at the end of the line,
its like freedom.
You sit here and bare witness to my words
climbing your defenses with the swiftness
of the worlds most ******** parcor.
So are your
thoughts that pure?
And are you sure you know how to endure
if they never find a cure?
With a view so obscured,
let me make these words clear.
I stand right here as all of your love as well as your fear.
Beyond the dark or the light.
I am the link between tranquil black and blinding white.
Even having no sight my words grip you tight.
And when my body is dead decaying and rotten,
like our children, they will not be forgotten.
Because words are the most immortal thing we've ever taught them.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 10:46 PM UTC
"I don't know her.
I've seen her;
A strong spectre of absolute femininity and a lingering presence so strong, that all things thereon.. revolved unto the centrepiece of her clear, imperfect, overwhelming and sinking magnitude.
The fortitude..
She's the most beautiful women I've ever seen.. and no, not that kind of beauty. Well, It could've been..
She has a darkness to her, so captivating; so dense that all article in her cense is stalled in mesmerising silence and anticipation for the next fleeting beat of her beautiful heart.. for the next pacing glaze that would tear me apart, along the horizon of mere "things" in her shade, as she looks around and so passionately drowns the world in awe.
The charm that she'd bestow..
When I first saw her, my heart stopped, literally, only to -and out of grave deafness, explode as if it has been beating 'cross an infinite expanse of scapes compressed in the swiftness of a second.. boom!
'cross the room..
Suddenly, the void that consumed out of me the very sorry existence that I am, failingly so distant to her proximity, exploded like a rose bursting into bloom.. exploding no less, from pale tasteless petals to mindblowing extravagance.
I don't love her, I admit. I don't even know how to begin to fathom such an implosion of utopian lust for the hazel green distance in her eyes, let alone love her. She might be a man-eater, in disguise, for all the possibilities of things likely.. She is, however unattainable, perhaps my greatest unembarked adventure; my Odyssey. Not so, perhaps, my greatest... the one other dream she, still that I of another kiss.. a bliss.. an even greater adventure, nonetheless.. but a rhythm for another rhyme; another prose for another time.
This.. She's ancient unconscionable forbidden bliss for the morbid spirit that I am, enchanted with sweetness and love. Volatile like wildfire, she has the world entwined in the gypsy black waves of unconstrained dreams.
But that wasn't her, who lingered back in my head... The residence was of another.. I saw her once, in my seems.. my truest endeavours for a place that screams for relentless torture behind sweet jagged beams of black light on black.
I don't love her, I reassure, nor am I in love with another. I'm taken by her like a leaf is in a storm. I am home. She's death in a green hazed gaze, for those of you who didn't figure it out by now."
A.r. Bazian
Nov 8th, 2015
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
I've been quite busy of late,
Work and life got me in that state.
Poetry got put on hold for the time being,
But an observation and a chance encounter got the poet bleeding.
This little flower I saw standing strong and shining bright,
Smiling and dancing in the bright sunlight.
From a bud to blooming and bursting with energy,
This little yellow flower making use of the soil and water synergy.
Then came a day where a little worm came her way,
Caressed her delicate little petals and made her sway,
His words rang through her senses and made her petals flutter,
Little did she know his dark intentions were from the gutter.
He talked about the little details of her beauty,
This poor little thing fell for cutie patootie.
Then one day without any warning,
He started nipping at her petals after adorning.
She thought it was not intentional as he pleaded forgiveness,
But then he started nipping, biting and eating with swiftness.
She bore all the pain as he continued with filling his tummy,
She thought he would soon go back to being her lovesick dummy.
Down to the last leaf she was when the wind started blowing,
Off the worm flew , the wind his fat overgrown body overthrowing.
With time her beauty she restored to her past glory,
Took care and made sure she did not fall for the same story.
Along came a bee buzzing his way in,
With her every move his heart over n over she would win.
He tried to make conversation with this pretty little thing,
Tell her how he felt about her and got him buzzing.
Her scars grew red again from her past encounter,
Fearing this moment she had built walls around her.
Her response to this stranger was heartless and cold,
Any advances he'd make she'd curl into herself and enfold.
No matter how much he tried to convince her,
Her walls wouldn't budge, for him to deter.
All he wanted to do was be with her,
But at this point everything was so blur.
She had advanced in life far ahead,
Achieved what she dreamt of in nature's bed.
Confident and bold she had become in this time,
Love was all she was left to fear of that feeling sublime.
The bee continued and never gave up,
Every morning to her sweet face he wanted to wake up,
Seeing his stubbornness something changed within her that day,
A leap of faith she took the walls breaking away.
Had she not, she wouldn't really know,
A fruit she would transform into with a lovely glow.
Love has been given a bad name by a filthy few,
But with the right person it can be sweeter than honey dew.
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 5:26 AM UTC
I am supposed to compliment
your beauty,
your bark brown wings and
perfect form,
your delicate legs and
slender body
I am supposed to praise
your grace in flight,
your swiftness
and your speed
I am supposed to compare you to
the softness
of an autumn blanket,
the silent beauty
of a silver moon,
the rush, then stillness,
of a changing wind.
But when you landed on my arm,
you tiny beautiful being,
You scared the crap out of me.
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 10:07 PM UTC
Maybe it was something I did. Something I said. Something that could've been avoided, maybe not.
I could've waited, stalled a little longer, but I couldn't hold back the words that changed you.
They tried to tell me how crazy I was, chasing after a carnie. But I was stupid enough not to listen.
They tried to tell me that I was just gonna end up crying with a broken heart, and I was rebellious enough to ignore it.
So now you'll go on with your life, leaving me behind.
And I'll regret the words I spoke too soon for the rest of my life.
You'll continue to be the wonderful carnie you are.
And I'll keep being the reckless little girl who fell in love with a carnie and never looked back.
We'll part ways as strangers who were once lovers, and you'll reminisce on the times we spent together.
I'll go become a chef, or a waitress, and hope you'll come into my restaurant and sweep me off my feet, just like that summer of pure happiness and freedom.
Girls will crawl backwards to be with you, but you'll know in your heart that none of them will ever be me, and I'll be tripping myself up trying to get over you.
You'll meet celebrities and singers and all sorts of beautiful women.
I'll earn a big time gig with a chef from Miami, or some big city, and move away, forgetting about you.
And you'll realize that the girl you left crying in the dirt was the girl you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, and I'll look back at the pictures, remembering the carnie that I was stupid enough to fall for.
You'll come searching for me, while working your many carnivals, with your heart of steel on your sleeve.
We'll run into each other somewhere down the road, an awkward run-in, but an unforgettable one.
I'll remember how much I loved you and run right back into your arms, forgetting the life I had just built for myself.
But that is just a daydream of a helpless girl who just had her young fragile heart broken by the restless carnie who was bad enough to steal it from her.
And so for now, we forgive and forget, cherishing the summer of love, the summer of swiftness, and the summer of absolute certainty.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC
My family is pretty tragic, and I don't fare well in any still
Just chasing a piece of magic for that taste of thrill
The amount of times I've done wrong, plays lyrics in
my head like a boring song
We grew impressed by curves saved in secret
vaults of our phone—it's a wonder how I can talk to girls
But it doesn't mean I was good at it before
A war inside of my eyes, I've been through a couple tours
With no resort to recreation, I'll resort to being bored
Life can feel a bourd, jesting kisses getting me hard like a board
Packing the load of weighing burdens
in the haul of dreams searching for a purpose
Penniless thoughts we grew up snatching from life's purses
And the only fear a teen had, was dying a ******
You could blame us being thirsty
always wanting to drown ourselves in success
Dancing swiftness in the crowd, but secretly depressed
I tell you my life before was such a mess
But you could never tease me enough to have that be the only
thing I confess
Thankfully the brokenness of my heart could be conditioned
to bring forth a new piece of a work of art
After every scar, the _C_ of every cut becomes the _T_ of time
for all my scars to become stars
My life is now the scars into stars!
Sep 7, 2022
Sep 7, 2022 at 4:12 PM UTC