"telltale" poems
A pair of lily white wings
dangling in the dappled moonlight esprit;
hang entangled as silken spider web
draped in the sweet Magnolia tree
From beneath there was no way of knowing
why a pair of abandoned wings lodge mislaid
One could not help but wonder how high
one might fly with cherub wings
But these callused feet tread far below the treetops
too high up from roots to climb
No telltale tiptoe prints cavort to be the talebearer
No feathered traces scattered all around
A hearken say, tickle-footed as a ladybug,
hold forth in a breeze brushed ear
Not completely undoubtable heed spoken;
a language bestow from another ether
softly breathe a whisper'd sigh:
"Behold the wings of a fallen angel;
uplifted by love's amazing grace
Lost alone in a moonstruck blindness
an angel flying too close
to the ground
~
Jesse
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
The punitive silences,
the bad atmosphere they generate,
the mind-games they use to try to **** you in
are telltale signs of the toxic person.
It could be your in-laws, a parent, coworker, your boss or spouse,
a sibling, a roommate, boyfriend or girlfriend,
someone you want out of the house.
Toxic people want to make you miserable.
Especially if you're a decent sort, they hone in on you like a heat-seeking missile.
They spew their negativity and blame it on you.
They lie constantly, or twist the facts to suit their changing needs of the moment
and they never apologize (so don't expect an apology, ever).
With a toxic person there is no reciprocity.
They sprinkle their toxic dust on you. It makes them feel better.
Their ulterior goal is to demean you, to make you feel smaller.
They project their worst tendencies onto you,
find fault with you for traits you don't possess---
a shadow of the **** that lurks inside them.
They try to dictate the emotional atmosphere
through their attitude or twisted mood.
They drain you of your energy, bring you down,
They'll always find a reason why your good news isn't great news.
Their agenda is to cut you down to their size,
to manipulate and control
to **** you over while they play the injured party.
Confront the bully. Speak up to the manipulator, the trickster, the backstabber.
but beyond a certain point
there is no point in arguing with them.
Don't try to change the toxic person. You can't.
You'd have better luck changing an orangutan into **** sapiens.
Only a shrink could change them, and then only if they hit rock-bottom.
Don't try to justify yourself. It's a waste of time which would only draw you deeper into their net.
Set boundaries to keep their negativity in check.
Stop trying to please them.
Let that toxic somebody in your life know you're onto them
and they can't get away with it anymore.
Don't fall into their trap, don't get caught up in their life-dramas
or try to get them out of trouble. Don't let them instill guilt in you.
But try not to take their toxicity personally.
Remember, it's them, not you. You are not to blame
though they desperately want you to feel you've done something wrong.
If necessary (and if possible), delete the toxic person from your life and move on.
Know when enough is enough.
Saying good riddance doesn't necessarily mean you hate them, it means
your own well-being comes first.
Immunize yourself. Preserve your inner strength.
Set your own rules.
And, when possible, just walk away.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 2:23 AM UTC
Shut amid the swell of boredom
Hole in the nose, sparkling adornment
Dye in the hair....a blonde invention
Image altered......still bored
Plenty to do, still bored
Not whilst doing it.....always
But the longing for a bolt hole
Registers, raising its voice to be heard
Yet boredom creeps in, mud spattered steps
Flicking dirt here and there
Clinging sometimes leaving telltale tufts
Staining....can’t wash it out or hide it away
A rash of what you want lands perfectly
Creates a broad grin in anticipation
And no sooner it’s arrived ...well boredom
Rears up grabbing the lead role
You might say ‘be careful what you wish for’
And you might be right...how come...??
Wager the odds on r and r ...v...
Over exposure in the commitment arena
You’d think it would win out
So what’s going on here?
“Boredom”
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 8:19 AM UTC
We have our dreams,
My perfect stranger,
Though we never really met,
Perhaps; never shall meet.
Still, we amble along together,
Navigating the lamentable brook,
Unfulfilled promises, foaming,
Swirling around our bare feet,
The cold of reality numbing our toes,
Skipping over rocks of broken ideals,
Once cherished, but not here, no,
They are fractious and discarded.
Trickles of tormented sighs, tease,
While avoiding guiding ropes of life,
Which would snag our thoughts,
Straining against friction burns,
As they attempt to bind us tightly,
Holding us prisoner, when in truth,
We are capable of incarcerating ourselves.
Although, our minds are free, yes,
Living beneath the same impassive moon,
Bathing within its stolen light,
Stealing our own, moments of peace,
As in sleep, we slip away unnoticed,
To hold each other, so loving,
Above the clouds, sharing caresses,
Smooching around, and round,
Oblivious of telltale tears on our cheeks.
A shooting star arcs across the sky,
‘Shall we wish?’ You ask,
‘Nah,’ I reply; wishing is for fools,
Be content; acceptance is the key,
My perfect stranger,
We have our dreams.
© Paul M Chafer 2014
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 7:43 AM UTC
~~~^♡^~~~
a flash of red
in verdant trees
a cardinal!
bright
within its leaves!
the telltale call
and flirt of tail
announces love
in the plain
female!
gentle nature
touches the pair
to bless my
*heart
yes!
spring
is
HERE!!!*
~~~^♡^~~~
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
I wash the clothes
and fold them too.
I take the dishes
and load them up.
I look at closets
and organize jackets.
I do the chores
mom usually does.
Parents thank me
and smile at my work.
To them I'm getting better
and working to be better.
Little do they know
that when I do housework
my live is spiraling more
and all I am doing
is making things easier
for when I am gone.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
Together we swim,
Skin touching satin skin
Fingertips grazing knees and thighs
As my engine of a heart enters overdrive with glee
Her breath keeps me alive against the strain of our instincts
My breath catches and my body contorts
Until I am suddenly entangled with a hooded figure instead
His heavy limbs pin me against the wall and his hands greedily search through my home
I realize I am being robbed but
He's not a stranger
His lips warm my neck and I choke on his telltale cologne as his hands hastily break through the deepest closets that house my innocence, my treasures, and no matter how sternly I refuse, he shoves through the doors until he finds exactly what he wants
I thought it was hidden
I thought it was safe
I thought it was mine
He smiles and lavishly thrusts his hands into my special box
Thanking me,
Between heavy breaths,
for giving him access to my prized possession,
To my heart
But
when he asked for a taste
I refused. But
He insisted and
Kept pushing
Pushing
And pushing against the wooden door until it splintered and snapped and he could enter with
Or without
My permission
Once inside, I had no choice
but to let him manhandle my possessions,
I can never again close that door that He broke
To fulfill his needs and
To satisfy his craving
Although he leaves with satisfaction dripping from his palms
I know it won't last forever
His hunger will return again,
Stronger.
And no matter how much I invest in new locks
and thicker blockades around my special space
He has already stolen a taste of the core of my emotions that
That door served to protect
He will return again,
with a sense of entitlement to my insides
And I won't fight back
Because his sweaty palms and greasy skin have already leaked onto the pieces
Even those he had not yet touched
My pure and personal secret now leaves nothing but bitterness on my tongue and stains on my body
And now,
I still feel his hands, not hers
I hear his breathing
Feel his weight pressing against me,
His hands destroying my body
I become hysterical and
Tears burn my eyes and stain our sheets.
I see the panic in her eyes
She doesn't know
She doesn't know I'm ***** and broken
She doesn't know why
And I can't
stop
crying
She's scared.
I would be too
But I'm dead inside.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 4:25 PM UTC
I hadn’t spoken for so long
a tiny spider had moved in
at the corner of my mouth
eating my words
my tongue laying limp like a
slain dragon at the bottom of the cave
like a king who passed away right there
on his throne having given the last order
my arms almost as still as uncontested borders
only palms carry out maneuvers
and fingers patrol the manifestation of expressions
commanded by thought fibers
like puppet soldiers
and the lines in the sand are words
born of themselves
telltale heartstrings stalking now the realm
just outside the eye orbit
May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 7:09 AM UTC
~~°♡°~~
He had died upon a cross
Three days laid to rest
Women came unto His tomb
With a vision blessed
As they saw the stone was moved
An angel then appeared
*"Why is it you come to seek
A man who is not here?"*
They looked into the tomb and saw
The cavity was bare
The shroud was neatly folded
But Jesus wasn't there!
The joy they felt beatific
When Jesus did they see!
They obeyed His next command
To meet at Galilee
In amazement and some fear
The women ran to others
Proclaimed the news Christ was alive
To the waiting brothers!
And two of the disciples
Did walk to Emmaus
To find the Lord amongst them
Though their eyes they could not trust
When they could see, and found it He
Said, "Our hearts burned within us!"
Then Jesus came, good as His name
To folk who were to wait
He showed his scars, the telltale mars
Sat with them and ate!
He led them up to Bethany
Blessed them all around
They were amazed, with His hands raised
He was lifted from the ground!
Can you imagine trumpeting?
Can you hear the sound?
Could there be it's equal?
In glory to be found?
Jesus rose to heaven
*The clouds were then His
CROWN*
SøułSurvivør
(C) 4/16/2017
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 1:21 PM UTC
The Secret of Her Clothes
by Michael R. Burch
The secret of her clothes
is that they whisper a little mysteriously
of things unseen
in the language of nylon and cotton,
so that when she walks
to her amorous drawers
to rummage among the embroidered hearts
and rumors of pastel slips
for a white wisp of Victorian lace,
the delicate rustle of fabric on fabric,
the slightest whisper of telltale static,
electrifies me.
Published by Erosha, Velvet Avalanche (Anthology) and Poetry Life & Times
Keywords/Tags: clothes, lingerie, nylon, cotton, amorous, drawers, slips, lace, static, electricity, mystery, mysterious
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 5:16 AM UTC
Distraught,
Destroyed,
Dis,
embodied.
My halls,
The walls,
my wicked falls turn'd from stone,
dissolved to nary a diffid tone thrown by ******* bones.
An amorphous form born from the aimless mourning that now has no space to face and call my own.
Telltale swarms of which I myself did warn would come,
Once and again I crumble from what once which I would succumb.
Myself. Dear. Gone.
I am,
afloat in limbo forever struck with what,
I Left only to silence my mind until once again,
I would find the cut.
...
Page 2
My totality revised,
Scratched through like the words unworthy.
Smoothed over the rough draft,
Autobiography progressive,
Nary writing another day's pages.
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 4:31 PM UTC
If I could go back to the day we first met, I would have done something different that day.
I could have stayed home,and nursed back my voice. Remember things I hardly could say?.
My goals and my dreams would have stayed my main focus because I'd never left town.
By falling in love,the world I had known,changed me so much I have drowned.
The tears and the pain cut me so deep I thought my soul would curl up and die.
How could a love that I wanted so bad,make me question myself inside?
Was my love not enough? Didn't I give you all that I had,and more?
You were the one in my heart I felt held the most promise. We had forever in store.
The telltale signs that something was wrong,my gut told me you drifted away. Nothing was wrong,you said I worried too much. Your intentions towards me hadn't changed.
I can no longer ignore,or deny it, my love because you mean the world to me.
If I could go back to the day we first met, I'd take back that one day,you see.
If there is some reason, a lesson to be learned,I think that maybe its this;
love needs to be nurtured and cared for,not taken for granted like memories fading because they have no reason to exsist.
Randy McPeek
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 10:51 AM UTC
living a charmed existence in the
shade of the seaward palm tree
but a telltale whisperer in hearts depth
sends doubters and scaremongers
like skulking figure's into the late day shadows
something darkly this way comes
some nameless faceless thing stalks this heartland of light
few pondered the night
few thought about what lay out there in the deep
brazen the lighthouse keeper
stokes the fires and keeps the lamps burning
no rumor of night will lay darkness at this door
no faint echo of footfall shall haunt this hour
again and again the lighthouse keeper
treads the midnight cold path of stones
along the seawall checking that all is well
raising his lantern and peering with old eyes
at the crazed cracks in the ancient wall
but none gave sign of weakness
none gave sign of peril
far out in the deep of the wider world
for the love of money and the greed of gasoline
something set in motion
some terrible beast of steel
and just as the moon set
in the final hour before dawn it came
heaving and rattling with such horrendous sounds
with bone rattling force laid its terrible hand on the seawall
and smashed the stones like it was no more than sand castle
this terrible thing so darkly come
unforgiven of wretched creature misguided soul
come to harvest the land of light
breathed with heavy burnt oil
breathed with mechanical labors
pulling its weight onto the shore
toppled the lighthouse extinguishing its light
darkness fell upon the scene
and with dreadful night returned once again to this shore
the seaward palm tree wither and die
no charmed place safe
from savage of dark
morning light never to return
in the shade of metal and oil fires night
the savage of darkness
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
Behind a person's success is a sacrifice;
Would you love to know the tale behind?
Actors and actresses preparing their act,
But behind the curtains there's a hidden fact.
Heels and shoes are filled with shards of glass;
Behind dress and tuxedo's there's a hidden blast
— Withal on the lights, they genuinely smile.
Let's move on and see the richest person alive:
They lurk abaft the gallanting suits and tie;
No day their feet cannot step on bars of silvers and gold,
Constantly crediting the humanity's sliver of hope
— Supported by government for the economy's growth.
Do you know someone born to be Einstein's child?
—A person whose thought process is unbelievably wide,
“What are emotions?” They frequently asked;
“Are those things related to a logical fact?”
Feelings are hindrance towards a brighter side.
We all know the people whom we proclaimed as leaders—
Behind the tall, wide walls they silently titters:
“Citizens are corrupted with money and blind rights;
This nation will never survive in a war nor in childish fights.”
Some politicians bought their roles, drinking leisure on their seats.
And there's someone like me— a bit higher, on the top—
Words are magical, making an astonishing plot;
Thy pen bleeds thread, weaving a wondrous craft—
Who knows they withhold theirs and other people's life art,
They'll keep going as long as the threadmill continues to spin.
Their tales are narrated a bit later, a bit little;
But that was a telltale with lots of missing details,
Are you willing to share the secrets found in the middle?
Dec 21, 2020
Dec 21, 2020 at 5:41 PM UTC
Her lips scream
" KISS ME "
Then whisper
" kiss me now "
At once
a thousand nerve-ends wake
electricity
rampant beneath
tender
sweet
candyfloss skin
Anticipating contact
her inner rhythms quicken
from ‘ bump-n-grind ’
to ‘ swing-beat ’
Hearts play along
to the new tune now
She smiles with those eyes
the message of her mouth
Delight
I understand at once
Replying
without reaching for a word
No second thoughts invade
the privacy of spontaneity
I just move to accept
this luscious invite
In a flash
ecstatic urges awaken
erotica in our minds
as we close
our telltale eyes
a split second before
the precious
perfect impact
Seems magnetically
heads tilt
Moving closer
till our silently screaming
half-opened mouths
knowingly meet
in once vacant space
Intentions projected
instantly accepted
Mouths
express new feeling
Tongues
take on new meaning
Suggestions
of intensity requesting
passions
yet to be fulfilled
The warm silk
snake of temptation
reacts to vibration
Twisting
Rolling
Curling
*******
Chewing
Playfully biting
Unspoken promises
Exciting
She plays a sensual game
Active / Passive
Strong / Soft
Control / Yield
Secrets revealed
Releasing for a moment
our mesmeric communion
Poised in breathlessness
we stare
as we subtly swallow
the essence
of our watery endeavour
Eyes smile
that insatiable smile
Still thirsting
chemical reactions
conceived by our emotions
Speed of light sensations
send shivers down our spine
Time
sleeps for a moment
Lost
in a fragment of dreamscape
we too escape
“ Mmmmmmm ”
The gentle sigh
waves through the air
We lose contact
with our unwelcome surrounds
as once again we entwine
to re-enact
the passage of our bliss
A repeat
of erogenous stimulation
replays the symphony of desire
in a higher vibration
Mouths in motion
mirror dancing
Automatic reactions
assume control
Whilst my mind
Is with her mind
my Soul
is with her Soul
Her grip tightens
Wanting more
wanton more
Red-hot
lava in the veins
seeking to surface
in a fiery eruption
Our watery essence
Seems to feed the flames
Yearning
I hear her
Burning
I feel her
Softening
Stiffening
Pulsing
I'm in her.
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 3:49 PM UTC
It started with a hint upon the air,
the telltale heaviness of anticipation.
A few brave drops fall,
testing their reception on this earth.
Then the drops fall in earnest,
surging down on she who is uncloaked,
embracing the coolness on her skin,
each drop a sweet lingering kiss.
The thunder roars, both terrifying and exhilarating.
The lighting flashes, the wind picks up,
tangling her hair with earnest.
Yet still she stands, embolden by the chaos,
finding peace and comfort in it all.
Your love is a summer storm,
earth-shattering,
deafening,
irresistibly beautiful.
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
Filling up, wide eyed, breathing deep
Avoiding the spillage, the jerking motion
Rowers giving elbow grease to churn out sobs
Of substance, grandiose design to sorrow
Bold, emblazoned tears of texture, relay
Racing to the jawline finish, backup tissue
Business flourishing, mopping up the fast flow
Red eye fostering their talents with expertise
Glooping globules on rain dance alert, dancing
The tango, the rumba, the belly dance parade
Of unchained dam busting, snot ravaging
Sodden and damp, choking its route outta here
All cryed out, on empty, exhaustion reigns, eyelids
Closing the stop tap to the off position, rearranging
Priorities to sleep mode, sinking down into sprung
Heaven, resting heavy lashes to bed, curling up
To while away the hours, silencing the alarm
Of solitude and inner turmoil, resting the think
Tank, cells charmed habitat of hybernation
Booked and paid for, down payment secured
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 3:38 PM UTC
I shutter in the nights moon.
I hide my self way before noon.
I fear, I fear, night will drift me away.
Moon! I gasp! Do you see me,
turn your judging face from me.
I shutter in the moons glow.
I fear! Which way should I go.
I see the morn only in my mind.
Its solemnly burrow within the trees
like a spy. Yet the cannot escape
my keen eye.
Day light! Blasted day light!
Sneeks its glow upon me.
Yet, comforts like a blanket!
But though I shutter in the moon light
And yet, I welcome a
pleasantly new days sun,
Woot! Whoo! Comes my weak calls.
For by days sun I hunger no more.
I just peck lustfully blood from my
fluttering feathers, of nights telltale gore.
I am just a hungry owl,
Whoot! Whoot! I cry.
My beak shutters to softly croon
My calls fierce, again in nights moon,
Alass! Shouts of fear from the mice.
from chipmunks from the baby racoons.
Hide! Hide! Hide!
For I will stalk you in the night.
You shall be my dinner before
day light.
Comes now too, my endless fear.
I float over fierce brown deer
Its mighty weight, yet, of me
it does not flinch,
Yes, even with my nightly, whoot!
Whoot! Over it my eyes gauntlet glare
It just looks me over as if I am not there.
I flutter full, to appear stronger, but though
I am mighty to the new birthed young,
I am desolate to the ones more than I, so strong.
Whoot! Whoot! Whoot! I cry out.
I cry strong and brave,\.
Yet, not a small beast does not fear as it
shows its self to me
They scamper, Ha! Ha! I laugh.
Do they not realize their tiny legs will
not free them from my swooping outcome.
I swoop, Ha! Ha! Silently I am upon them.
I since their heart beats like a drum.
Soon it is over. Their will is no more, but mine.
As I perch way up in this tree
Shutter I do of beasts, but so do they.
For in the woods all too is fair play
For that is nature's contract
guaranteed, to all forest prey.
© Written by Linda Bates Terrell
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
In a world far removed from our own,
there lies a young girl,
days spent in a small house,
days spent in solitude.
A small house on a hill,
countryside as far as the eye can see,
warm weather,
alone and safe isn't exactly a perfect forever.
To stay forever in that little country cottage,
a dream come true,
grass so green,
and sky so blue.
One day she stood up and walked out,
never having left the warmth of the field,
she was lost,
she was sick of complacency,
whatever the cost.
She just kept walking,
losing sight of the familiar,
gaining vision as walked,
a new skyline.
Walking farther and farther.
the atmosphere changed,
warmth shed away into cold,
snow began to fall as she walked,
beneath her summer dress her skin began to bleed.
Snow on snowflakes,
frostbitten extremities,
and still she walks on,
thinking of how things ought to be.
When the young girl met wits end,
physical form begun to warp,
she came walking around the end of the bend,
a structure in sight.
Through enclosed walls,
to the open gate,
eyes agape,
a busy stream of people on their way.
A sight unfamiliar,
a song and a hum,
the journey worthwhile,
the solitude a sojourn.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
He led me down
To the confines of hell
And there I saw
I was no different than the rest
River Styx
Called me in
To swim its black waters
And I felt seaweed grab at my legs.
The sirens came
And they pull me down to the depths
I would breathe water in
Suffocating on the sea
Awaiting my turn to die
Waiting for eternity.
I saw the voices of a thousand fiendish angels
Take form in the air around me
As wars and battles and fights raged
And the clash of civilizations was among us once more.
Heroes and villains alike re-appeared and shouted noiselessly,
making the entire universe sound like the chaotic mess
that it once was and still is and will probably always be.
I followed Dante as he followed Virgil and we followed nobody down and down further into the depths.
Winged chariots came
And whisked me away
through the halls of fire
I crossed the bridge
Crumbling and tumbling down
To the caverns of stone
Rocks smashing
I’m falling and falling
Never to land.
The acrid smell of flesh burning
Fills my nostrils
the fires singe the hair off my body
and I burn in oblivion.
What deed hath I done
to earn the demons of Lady Macbeth?
Out, **** spot
Get me out
GET ME OUT
I will never breathe free air again.
The villainy you taught me, I executed
and now I am here with them and you.
I am a wanted, haunted man,
As my telltale heart beats louder and louder
Until I see the face of insanity
And realize it’s my own.
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 3:17 PM UTC
I followed him
watching my feet
following his,
evading puddles
of an early monsoon
I said, yey
He said, yey
And with that telltale
monosyllabic
guise
Our mutual
feelings
were acknowledged.
We like each other.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
To rivit and gaze abrrantly
Your visually sick behind retina
Processing on whimsical stammor
Docket’s of false telltale pouring from hundreds of mouths
All while one gamming sheray from your eyes says enough
Those worn graying-blued bags underneath;
They show a hard working bluff
Devised; let’s embellish our stares of evil on outward crowds
Let us pick out other bagged eye crevices, and not moving blabbers’
Nothing but the time they’ve gave; those wise ******* dabblers’
We glance the demon out for thrill
We are the visually ill.
Nov 21, 2010
Nov 21, 2010 at 8:37 AM UTC
Telltale signs of paranoia ***** at the hackles that run from head
(to heart)
down the spine
drown the mind
Psychotic neurotic autistic artistic
Imagination whirls like wind through the pines and
The hair along my spine
Is standing
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 9:29 PM UTC