"synching" poems
On the pole
I dance
Wild and free
Doing flips
And tricks
For all to see
On the pole
I forget
The harsh reality
Embraced in music
I can truly be
Carefree
On the pole
I can pretend
To be anybody at all
Elegantly entwined
Both body and soul
This Persona of mine
Who's not afraid to fall
On the pole
I dance
My wildest dreams
Feeling the lyrics
Of a song
Synching my Heart
To each beat
On the pole
I Dance
Within a room
Filled by stars
Gleaming with light
Portraying the beauty
Of the night
On the Ground
I land
Perfectly safe and sound
No applause but silence
Littered all around
Looking into the mirror
I'm standing there proud
There's nobody but me
Outterly spellbound
On the pole
#
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 5:46 AM UTC
And when at last she fell asleep,
For my sweetheart i kept vigil.
Synching my life breath,
With her rhythmic heart beats,
For her I wrote,this song.
But she couldn't listen, not even once,
Though only for her I weaved it.
Night had her rendezvous with dawn,
At the end of her painful journey with little light,
My love left without a word, never to return
To gift me that lingering,tantalizing, sweet pain,
That makes me real; keeps the lover in me alive.
My orphaned song of doomed love,
Lost all it's meaning at that moment.
Like a lover who lost way to the rendezvous,
It kept on knocking my door, ever after.
In the insistent beating of the sea waves' passion
I heard my lost song ringing once again.
On a night the melancholy moon,went hiding.
I sat alone soaked in pain and sang my song.
It made me melt, I deeply felt,nature too sang along,
In a frenzy, I never ever did witness before.
Then, the pale moon, on an apparel in transparent cloud,
Danced forgetting all her pain , that found expression in many ways.
I now realize,that song wasn't just mine,
It has a life of it's own,in tongues it spoke.
Day and night to lovers, jilted, all those lost by mistake,
Now, it has a life of it's own, independent from all
Anywhere it would go alone.
I wrote a song, for none in particular,
Soon did I realize, it speaks to all pain filled hearts,
Love created the wistful mood,
My time alone with her filled the words.
And one day everyone who heard
This song sung, will leave, but the song won't.
The night air will be filled with it's mute waves of pain,
On it the distant stars will float.
The wind will hum it,the interstellar space,
Will echo, it's cadence aloud.
Neither the words would fade
Nor my passion for her ever would die.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 2:54 PM UTC
Humans are capable of the biggest hypocritical ideas.
They don't do it on purpose
Yet we do it.
Some love others more than they love themselves.
Well, I believed I also did
Yet it is not quiet so.
Think well about it, I love until I bleed and even more after that!
Well, I believe in love more than most do
Yet, should I quit my dreams for it, should you?
Would I blow my brains out, would you?
Is this even a question you're allowed to make?
I believe, I've learn, I've seen
And love is learning to love another by learning to love yourself,
Love is synching your dreams with others' dreams,
Love is bending and straining to reach out to the other,
to share the pain
to lick the bruises
to laugh whole in harmony because you found IT
to be insane but never feel suicidal.
To love is to burn together
Not to blow apart for one another.
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 6:08 PM UTC
As the cold crept under my skin
so did your kisses
as you planted them softly
on the carpet of goosebumps
that covered my body
As the wind slapped my face
with chills
so did your hands
as they cupped my red cheeks
holding it still
marveling at the beauty
that has bewitched you
As the rain damped my hair
curling them with winter surprises
so did you fingers
as they hypnotized me to sleep
uncurling all the disadvantages of the day
As the flakes rested on my lashes
so did yours against mine
as you got close to me
synching your breath with mine
As January embraced me
with layers upon layers of wool
so did your arms
as I roll under
my sheets
feeling my skin
against
yours
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 6:31 AM UTC
Synchronicities coalescing
like an orchestral crescendo
bubbling up all at once
no longer guessing
no shorter waiting
the *** is boiling
moreover
I might
be synch
i
n
g
...
a pod
of killer whales
crash-splashing
quite a commotion
up, out, and back
down into the ocean
born into the storm like
a frightful forte
a front brake
endo
the
feathered
fickle angel
screams pianissimo
on tiptoes, reaching out
toward tomorrows
continuously
contagious incapacitation
tells me it straight like an arrow through time
like a taught fishing hook line
and sinker —
trying to figure out
your reason your rhyme
parsley, sage, rosemary and crime
please, let me in on your
pickled paradigm
a stormy sea, all your own,
decides for you, where
you're thrown.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 10:34 AM UTC
a mind after midnight is a scary thing
that undiscovered country of thoughts
throughout your brain & running in your veins
pulsing, begging to be acknowledged
but you feel your heart beat faintly
and it meets the pace of your steadfast brain
slowly synching into sleep
hoping to forget everything
the next morning
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
*in a sea of adolescent geeks and nerds grown to be adolescent college corruption
holding pistol shaped hands high above their nodding heads to form an endless ocean of "W"s
lip-synching every word to the sweater song in perfect drunken harmony
i'm stranded here where i don't belong
trapped in a human cage of drunken fraternities and prudish sororities
pass the expiration date of such antiquated requiems
i stand shoulder to shoulder feeling nothing but the crushing desire to sleep
the crushing desire to escape out into the wild*
Where are we going?
We're going nowhere.
Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 10:59 PM UTC
I am really not passible
Just **** as possible
For a well-worn *****
And, they call me Missy
Because I don’t think I can
Act like a masculine man
So spare me your hissy fit
Go someplace and get over it.
I can walk well in high heels
Don’t need any training wheels.
My taste in clothes is excellent
Not the slightest bit recalcitrant.
I’m fully into the new club scene
About half way to a drag queen.
One more piece of women’s wear
I’ll be ready to go about anywhere.
My movements are very delicate
And that is, of course, deliberate.
You get more if you advertise
And some assets I can’t disguise.
I’m six feet tall in my stocking feet
As spicy as Red Hots and twice as sweet.
If you don’t like your she-girls tall
Then you don’t know what’s good at all.
You’ll find me in cabarets, everywhere.
We’ll be up at the bar or in a chair
Showing off our legs and swinging
Lip-synching the words the juke is singing.
We’ll appreciate a drink, if you are buying,
We’ll make your day complete without trying.
We’re full of fun and know lots of jokes.
We’re a short vacation for the right blokes.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC
One must learn to listen so both will start hearing, what's the cause of all fights and all their swearing;
Not with just your ears but with an open heart and mind synching with their feelings;
Look straight through their eyes set aside your thoughts of their demise;
For they will do the same, settling things in a peaceful way would be very wise.
Was it that really simple when lives are already took?
Will you understand the demands written in each others book;
Now with a tightly clinched fists and fingers on the trigger of their own weapons;
Gritting teeth waiting for their leader's call!Like a game of chess they are just pawns.
So the siren wails and fires were shot!Lives are taken!Bloods were dropped;
Bombs explode splattering guts!Countless deaths and souls were trapped!
After all the dust had settle, who will be victorious and which cause are stronger?!
Funny one will still claim an answer where it only fuels more anger.
So when you're asked to fight a battle over nothing which side will you take?
If they can talk things over then why need ask questions to make?
A fight may be won and battles can be conquered signatures a sin
Always remember that the war still rages within!
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 7:07 AM UTC
I am really not passible
Just **** as possible
For a well-worn *****
And, they call me Missy
Because I don’t think I can
Act like a masculine man
So spare me your hissy fit
Go someplace and get over it.
I can walk well in high heels
Don’t need any training wheels.
My taste in clothes is excellent
Not the slightest bit recalcitrant.
I’m fully into the new club scene
About half way to a drag queen.
One more piece of women’s wear
I’ll be ready to go about anywhere.
My movements are very delicate
And that is, of course, deliberate.
You get more if you advertise
And some assets I can’t disguise.
I’m six feet tall in my stocking feet
As spicy as Red Hots and twice as sweet.
If you don’t like your she-girls tall
Then you don’t know what’s good at all.
You’ll find me in cabarets, everywhere.
We’ll be up at the bar or in a chair
Showing off our legs and swinging
Lip-synching the words the juke is singing.
We’ll appreciate a drink, if you are buying,
We’ll make your day complete without trying.
We’re full of fun and know lots of jokes.
We’re a short vacation for the right blokes.
(And, no. It is not autobiographical.)
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC
It is all about the memories,
That like the dreams we fail,
And the thoughts we will not share,
They drain and slip through our fingertips.
Waking up from a sad dream,
One we would love to forget,
But love induced sadness,
It is hard one to get rid of.
The dawn rises synching with your chest
Your eyes shining from the watery tears,
And your mind is playing games,
It feels as if you are together,
Then reality and the dream world collide.
And you are staring through the window,
All alone.
It is all about the memories,
Those we keep close to our hearts,
Close enough to make us feel alive,
Close enough to let them hurt us.
That like the dreams we fail,
We forget and never go for them again,
Ashamed of the idea of fulfilling them,
Too frightened to share them.
And the thoughts we will not share,
They are rotting in our veins,
Growing hungry inside their lair,
Waiting for a chance to escape.
Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 8:13 AM UTC
our hearts beat as one
our chests close together
the falling and rising of our chests
synching into a rhythm
our hearts are dancing as one
with it's unique individual flavor
and adding spice and fun into my solitary life
my heart skips a beat
our breaths go in and out
falling and rising like the great ocean
always flowing with mysterious motion
each breath unique and new
I wrote all these words,
when I could have simply said
"I love you"
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
So now I am truly alone as all plots
and unhappy endings are about
to subside, wither and die –
Literally they epitaph themselves:
For me the most delicate art in this world.
Seemingly duality has stopped playing on my strings,
so please recognize: I am not talking to myself –
I am still lip-synching, so this is absolutely an approach to something.
Besides it appears to me, an actor’s true home
is the changing-room between the scenes:
Simply furnished, no applause. Silence.
Enjambement. N’est-ce pas?
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 9:24 AM UTC
We are always waiting.
John Lennon or someone on Facebook or God said:
"Life is what happens when you're making other plans."
Life is what happens when you're waiting, and soon you'll be dead.
That's what that quote says to me.
So I'll just wait for eternity
Quietly.
And if I'm in line at the grocery
or synching my phone
or whatever it may be
maybe I'll use the time to write poetry.
Leave my little mark,
help the world remember
that while I was waiting I was still
me.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
Sometimes
I'm a passive pastime aggression past life regresser.
Sorry I'm such a sad excuse for a screwdriver,
you silly suffering succatash!
But really, I'm only sorry
because apparently
I'm the one who turned you into ****** tunes.
Maybe I'll come into your television with
new waveforms and let society tear me apart
steakchewsteakchew American diet and
then you can be a little less frayed.
And was I afraid? Hell the **** yes I was!
What are you some kind of beekeeper?
I've got half a mind to herd the hive and
two to love it for it's honey.
I haven't dove into a swarm of stingers
without a welt or two lately lemme tell ya.
Lemme show ya a lil somethin' somethin' cold
somethin' simmerin' somethin' like that
old house of cards filled with sickening soulsins.
Flutter flutter fly and the kingdom falls, *******
That was all that time?
Remember the last one of those I never finished and
there was no excuse for letting the time tick?
Bomb and tock when I had the right shoe.
Even if I've got two left feet
I've gotta make it werk!
I'm lip synching for my life
annd whattt!
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
Love is a game
+ i’m sinking in score
i am weak in the knees
for my heart’s over-worn
but his smile moves the sea
and his teeth taste of Sun
he climbs losses in me
softly singing
_—i’ve won_
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 10:18 PM UTC
There oughta be another option,
A different route to take.
Alternate realities are limited,
The receptors are collapsing in.
Actors are computer generated,
Vocalists are lip synching,
Wood's not wood,
The bellfry is a facade,
And my chicken dinner didn't hatch.
My clothes are made of oil,
My veggies grow indoors,
I'm drinking chlorine and fluoride,
Bottled water isn't wet.
What I see's not what I get.
Yes or no simply won't do.
My tires aren't rubber, I'm laying slicks,
Shakespeare's off the curriculum.
That's not the face you had last week,
Nor the body you've long borne.
Gimme some old fashioned ice-cream.
They're laying oil lines,
Clear-cutting my life line,
Soon landing us on Mars.
Yes or no won't do.
***** a fence around our world,
We're living in a zoo.
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
And it was there I said I'd meet you.
Under the overpass, your eyes grasping for new ways to say I told you so. And that smokestack heart of mine piled up a few more miles of the most beautiful memories that could fit into my nap sack before the bus left:
When you remind me I'm lip-synching on our car rides to nowhere which is everywhere with you and how I hate telling you I'm wrong.
That smile- and how it wraps around my lips when I try and refuse that lighthouse from ushering me home.
The echoes your laughter makes across the empty dining room and how intentional you spin this sound so I can hear it from the bedroom.
Your left temple- tabernacle and all- leaning against the smoke. Every night. Not afraid of the fire.
And before I leave you remember that these trips are every bit as permanent as they are temporary. You tell me to hurry home and I remind you that I always am with you. You smile. The Sun screams, raising its voice across your face as we depart and you've never been as beautiful as when you said
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 6:13 PM UTC
Make no mistake make no excuse
It's not your fault they are obtuse
Serenely synching your tie
Air cut about to die
You are not theirs to abuse
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
I've always wondered what it would feel like
to be held while I cry.
Letting my tears seep into the other persons collar.
Synching my breathing with theirs.
Feeling their gentle caress up and down my back,
calming my swollen heart.
and the warmth.
Oh how comforting the warmth would be.
---
I've spent so many nights caressing my own back,
letting my pillow case soak up all my sorrows.
Blankets warming my emotional chills.
Ive learned to be my own shoulder to cry on.
But, its feels weak.
As if it can't hold anymore of my lonely tears.
I think its at capacity.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
i am
all that i see
_all the beauty is me_
the flowers, the Sun
& its dance upon leaves
of the trees that we breathe
that lead us to our dreams
there’s just no better scene
as the Light seems so close
like _it’s bursting from me_
i swear the Sun sings
of my warm melody
i watch as her glow
grows right out
of my seams
_i am all
that i
see_
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 3:08 AM UTC
This is not ordinary
I am used to falling
A few feet or so
But never the thousands of miles that now exist
You are so far
I reach out my hands and I cannot touch you
You are not there
Yet I pretend you are
Close my eyes
And imagine the rhythm of your breath
Syncing with mine
Picture your hands
Synching with mine
Our bodies
Poured together
A mess that we neglect to clean up
There is a certain comfort in the chaos
And I want to be in complete disarray
I want to empty myself into your arms
Want you to do the same
And together we will hold ourselves intact
But you are so far
I cannot pick up your pieces when they fall
My hands do not stretch the distance
And there is so much between us
But if I ever get the chance
If this space ever collapses
If it ever box-folds itself into disappearance
If we ever come close
And you want me to,
I will love you
And I will love you
Completely.
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC
I called out to the world
Distraught, frantic, searching.
Something awoken in you,
A resonant note,
Found deep in your core.
I called again, and the music
Stirred inside of you.
Responding to my vibrations,
You called back to me
With want.
A longing and determination
That was somewhat melancholic,
Teetering on the edge of desperation.
I kept my call constant
As you sang to me,
Both of us searching for the other
Trying to pinpoint our spirits
In the world's sound waves.
As we got closer
Our desperation began to rise
Like a boiling sun,
Burning us with desire.
We called out to each other
Faster, louder, synching our
Fragile loneliness
Until we found one another
Our souls, like two fishes
Swimming, dancing together
Twirling around in the air
Creating a beautiful melody.
Then we entered each other,
You absorbed me, and I you.
A harmonious collision,
That no power could sever
For our souls have always been
Tethered.
-SLuR
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
All things must come to an end,
they say.
This place already feels hollow
without you.
A hall of echoes.
I miss you,
even as you linger.
I am capsised,
by this primal urge,
Once abandoned,
nearly forgotten,
reborn in your irreverent grace.
I discover myself marooned.
Cast out.
A Castaway,
on this island you sacnctioned,.
It is only what I am owed,
The inevitability,
of my own privateering.
Machinations of unreliable pursuit...
My imagination,
as ever,
running away with itself.
You were a landfall,
of sorts.
Painting yourself an unlikely comrade,
silently synching oars,
navigating parallel waters.
Finding purchase (purpose?)
on the cruel waters
of this devious digital sea.
Would haves,
cresting as could haves,
breaking into should haves,
spilling,
anticlimactically,
onto indifferent shores.
A filmy release,
A ghost froth,
delivering its spent intention,
unto shifting sands,
etching itself but briefly,
before its memory is consumed,
and ferried off,
by the relentless gravitation of the tides,
by the eternal gravity of time.
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 10:30 AM UTC