"tacenda" poems
She was nyctophilia;
In the darkness,
The moon and stars was her Nakama;
She could hear the stars whispering,
And the moon comforting her.
As she licked her wounds and drowns in her own sobs.
In the darkness,
Her room becomes her hermetic fantasy world;
One where her cries sound mellifluous,
One where her wounds look ethereal
Her pain was considered tacenda,
But in that little Universe, she built,
She was rebirth – with each heartbreak.
She is a philocalist - a Lunar Pisces
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 8:36 AM UTC
Year after year
--at daylight savings--
he kept moving his clock backward,
but never forward,
until he wound-up in the wrong century.
He then slept in masks,
his dreams repeatedly
disbanding and reforming,
as if in someone else's show,
but it was his hallucinating set-list, for sure.
He lived at the call of the void,
feeding off peppermint sticks
and clusters of chokeberry,
to help ease the pressure.
One phantom summer,
he read The Joy of Euthanasia
from cover-to-cover, over and over,
until he could recite death.
He poured his heart
into his new work
as an artist of tacenda,
--yes, he kept a lid on it.
And when the pretty young bees
buzzed about underneath
their brazen parasols,
he'd smile up at the sun
for her complicit glow:
the warmest days
always drew them out to him,
like honey on the tongue.
Now naysayers may keep
him out of Canton,
but one day, like most serial killers,
they will name a school after him
and his hijinks.
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 2:21 PM UTC
My wanderlust is for now sustained;
I have a tendency for vagary,
A solivagant nature in my blood.
I hope my last departure is final,
But I have much more adventure in me.
For now, tacenda is my hearts' content.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
You were, you are, you always will be my chimerical vision.
For a while, I had always thought things should be tacenda, but then I realized how stupid of a thought that was. I mean you came into my life and became my dépayśe. I was completely taken out of my comfort zone and put in some place unknown; some place near you, yet so far away. I have this wish where you and I find the light together, but I think I always knew it was a velleity. You're so soigné, and I'm just homely. When I close my eyes, I picture that first mamilapinatapai and wonder why I couldn't have just spoken up. I've become a mad man over this serendipity which lasted a short time only to last forever. It was just a halcyon, those few moments we awed over, and I was just to sick with evasion to ever light a spark. Now, all I can do it drown in this chimerical vision alone.
(j.a.r.)
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
I surrender my heart,
for it has a goal,
to feel what's real,
pure, and whole.
The palace is clean,
and calling my colours.
& A rainbow will be,
in each corner of me.
For I, For You.
For Once, For Truth.
I will put ALL of me in my Kiss.
Orenda rests in the crystal mist.
& I will delve into the lips,
Of vulnerable places.
Letting go of me.
New water is invasive.
With the levels so deep,
Resting between,
Your forever speech,
And crystalline,
Bridge of Senses.
We're on the fence of,
Time and Space.
& I move through your Kiss, yes,
Tacenda rests on your lips.
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
You know that feeling
Where you just wanna crumple up
and die in a hole
That feeling inside you that just eats you up
and swallows you whole
Was it what I said?
Well, it wasn't my intention
Came out wrong, I dont even wanna mention
People make mistakes even the ones we love
But making them is something I'm really tired of
It feels like I'm hanging on a piece of thread
Because some things are better left unsaid
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC
*I can't help but wonder
if you think I feel
like bird bones in your hands.*
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC
would he love me
with a bounty on
my head, with two
six shooters and the
audacity to leave
would he love me
with scars scribbled
down my back, the
tacit agenda of every
one before, every thing
ever said,
would he love me
would he love me
with a bounty
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 8:01 PM UTC
you’re getting married
in less than twenty-four hours
yet, here you are --
saying hello on my doorstep,
rocking on the ***** of your heels,
nervously clutching your floral skirt
like the way you did
when you're still on
first dates and first bases
sipping ***** instead
of swallowing the shots down
you talk about the towns
that you had driven through
the past two hours --
just so you could see me
but I don't
think,
that you're here
just to say hello
and talk about
the towns you've
driven by
we sit, on the flagstone
mezzanine, idle talks
flowing through pretentious lips
but always dancing, always skirting
past the things we both
know we want to talk about
but we never mention
them out loud
we eat the gravel and grit
and ashes of burnt-out loves
fill our mouths
we are both dying
to say,
what we are both dying
to hear.
it's already late,
later than I would have
allowed myself to
let you stay,
but we open a few more
bottles of beer
you still swirl your
drink in your cup,
let it slosh before you sip
on it -- you still
like to pretend it's *****
when it's just cheap beer
when the moon finally shines
over the ridge of Sierra del Fuego,
an orange coin someone
had hung in the midst
of a blackberry sky,
it beckons you to leave
for home, and you heed
the call
I wish that you hadn't,
because as much as much
as I want you for myself I,
also wish for you to be happy,
and I want you to be free
of me, of what I am -- a liability,
a constant reminder
that you must be responsible
for whatever consequence we
might bring to each other
so I remain silent,
let myself choke on the words
I would have wanted
you to hear, and I
wath you as you
drive away in a Ford,
dust exploding in a
flurry of clouds behind your tires
as it tears through the
gravel pathway that traverses
in front of my house
for the northern highway
where the thorn bush
with the pink flowers
had managed
to bloom, despite the harshness
of the soil that reside there
oh, I watch as the sun
as it travels back to the east
where it belongs!
without words, without
that grandiose score
that cues the end of the world
and the start of the apocalypse,
the world still turns and turns,
heedless of a petty heart breaking
Silence.
and the sound is loudest
when it is not heard.
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 7:52 PM UTC
“A solider wandering alone
Around people in masks
Like an innocent soul surrounded by evil spirits
No longer alone just merits in lockets”
In the back of my notebook
I'm writing letters of sorrow
Not sure what to call unavoided Tacenda
Help me escape this hysteric agenda
As the ink bleeds out of my pen
And the tears run into pages undone
The fear of forgetting and being forgotton
It's the race I’ll never out run
For the plot of your life isn't your choice
Questioning desires and is it really your voice
Directions you take make no sense
Is it truly there only for suspense
By: Zoulaikha
Nov 3, 2024
Nov 3, 2024 at 5:33 AM UTC
this is not the time
or the place,
but, **** happens anyway.
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 1:32 PM UTC
You keep saying you won't let me go, you keep saying what I've heard before.
Feb 18, 2021
Feb 18, 2021 at 8:30 AM UTC
(n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence
Often, the thought of him will cloud her head,
the what if’s
and often enough, the thought of maybe she wasn’t good enough
will take it’s turn,
tugging on her brain.
She could recall the exact moment she caught herself
falling for him,
a thought that never seemed scary to her before,
but in the moment,
she was the most terrified that she’d ever been.
You see,
love was never a thing that she saw for herself
especially when it came to him.
Romance was the last thing on her mind when he
was around.
She could remember all the rose golds and
hearts around Valentine’s Day,
her favorite heart shaped candies
that boys would give out,
a simple “be mine” that changed a girl’s life.
A flavor that wasn’t ever nice to eat,
but somehow,
the fact that is was given by a boy
made all the difference
of how chalky it really tasted.
So when he walked in with his deep
brown hair,
she imagined herself swimming in the pools of
chocolate that occupied
his manipulative eye sockets.
Eyes that had stared into her soul a
million times before,
but for some reason,
this time felt different
and she couldn’t quite tell why,
but it had to do with the fact she had seen
what those eyes really look like,
when you’re alone in the dark
and there’s no one around,
left to impress.
She felt shivers,
and she knew that with every bat of an eyelash,
he was slowly
throwing aside her shirt once more,
and leaving her vulnerable once again.
A manipulation that she’s sure other girls have witnessed,
because she knows she wasn’t the first,
and she certainly wouldn’t be the last
to rest her head upon his pillow,
and moan out in pleasure.
The walls seemed to cave in around them
and she could feel her body go lifeless,
trying to get deeper
and feel every possible warmth
from the boy who swore he loved her.
And she said she loved him too,
even with knowing the true risks of getting involved with him,
but one thing she never thought
she’d witness from him,
heartbreak.
Because after all,
most things are better when you keep them
to yourself,
especially telling a boy you love him too,
when he never said “I love you.”
Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 2:57 PM UTC
A great gloom has crept into the home...
A dark, sinister menace roams in the air unknown!
The baby in the cradle plays unaware...
Of the time left for it to know what it were!
Sep 25, 2020
Sep 25, 2020 at 11:32 AM UTC