"tethering" poems
Never what you were,
my retina dulled your rays.
Optics adrift in poetry, prose,
charity shop sweaters.
I spoke of dreamed ambition.
You nodded, morose.
Eyes chasing space.
Never what you were.
Bookshelves, potted plants, a bicycle bell ringing.
Coffee steam clawing New Zealand winds.
This and more flickered in our hazed tethering,
only snuffed when the tap of illusion ran cold.
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 7:38 PM UTC
AMBIGRAM VIII
Recto:
Yesterday was Christmas, and the days
already start to grow a little longer.
In our hand, the new year‘s fledgling, stronger
though more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow, its song a
a sad, repeated phrase among the blackened
trees along a river. So sit back and
raise your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And black and
white explode, a throng of rainbows—gaze!
You‘ll see it, wakened in the morning haze,
ascending as the tethering s tring is slackened:
Verso:
Yesterday was Christmas, and
the days already start to grow
a little longer. In our hand,
the new year‘s fledgling, stronger though
more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow,
its song a sad, repeated phrase
among the blackened trees along a
river. So sit back and raise
your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And
And black and white explode, a throng of
rainbows—gaze! You‘ll see it, wakened
in the morning haze, ascend-
ing as the tethering string is slackened.
AMBIGRAM
Recto:
Yesterday was Christmas, and the days
already start to grow a little longer.
In our hand, the new year‘s fledgling, stronger
though more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow, its song a
a sad, repeated phrase among the blackened
trees along a river. So sit back and
raise your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And black and
white explode, a throng of rainbows—gaze!
You‘ll see it, wakened in the morning haze,
ascending as the tethering s tring is slackened:
Verso:
Yesterday was Christmas, and
the days already start to grow
a little longer. In our hand,
the new year‘s fledgling, stronger though
more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow,
its song a sad, repeated phrase
among the blackened trees along a
river. So sit back and raise
your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And
And black and white explode, a throng of
rainbows—gaze! You‘ll see it, wakened
in the morning haze, ascend-
ing as the tethering string is slackened.
AMBIGRAM
Recto:
Yesterday was Christmas, and the days
already start to grow a little longer.
In our hand, the new year‘s fledgling, stronger
though more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow, its song a
a sad, repeated phrase among the blackened
trees along a river. So sit back and
raise your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And black and
white explode, a throng of rainbows—gaze!
You‘ll see it, wakened in the morning haze,
ascending as the tethering s tring is slackened:
Verso:
Yesterday was Christmas, and
the days already start to grow
a little longer. In our hand,
the new year‘s fledgling, stronger though
more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow,
its song a sad, repeated phrase
among the blackened trees along a
river. So sit back and raise
your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And
And black and white explode, a throng of
rainbows—gaze! You‘ll see it, wakened
in the morning haze, ascend-
ing as the tethering string is slackened.
AMBIGRAM
Recto:
Yesterday was Christmas, and the days
already start to grow a little longer.
In our hand, the new year‘s fledgling, stronger
though more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow, its song a
a sad, repeated phrase among the blackened
trees along a river. So sit back and
raise your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And black and
white explode, a throng of rainbows—gaze!
You‘ll see it, wakened in the morning haze,
ascending as the tethering s tring is slackened:
Verso:
Yesterday was Christmas, and
the days already start to grow
a little longer. In our hand,
the new year‘s fledgling, stronger though
more fragile too in many ways
than this bedraggled, aging crow,
its song a sad, repeated phrase
among the blackened trees along a
river. So sit back and raise
your glasses to it, do the conga,
auld lang syne, then hit the sack. And
And black and white explode, a throng of
rainbows—gaze! You‘ll see it, wakened
in the morning haze, ascend-
ing as the tethering string is slackened.
Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 3:26 PM UTC
*Don't make me laugh
Your not in love with me
Let me tell you why
It's just your fantasy
Cause this is not love
You surely are mistaken
You've never felt love
or anything close to it
Cause you never had
love to under stand
You were too busy with pleasing
Standing up to expectations
Trying to fit a larger than life figure
Chasing dreams that were impossible
You drove yourself harder
Hoping that somehow you'd make up for the affection you did not receive.
Your running on empty
And empty is all you can give.
Love is not keeping yourself bottled
And taking flight for the smallest threat.
To your grandiosity.
Love is not sending cryptic clues
Trying to gauge responses
Love is not in hiding
But in making itself felt
Love's presence is silent
Yet the warmth radiates.
So I have nothing to expect from you.
Your tethering is not astonishing
I can understand the see-saw you feel inside.
An emotional wave you fear to ride.
So it's best we let bygones be what they are meant to be.
Don't start the process all over.
Try not to kindle the spark
Cause the fires have blown over.
I've healed myself, of the emptiness you've left behind.
I am not turning back this time.
My resolve is deep, my mind made up.
I have promises made to myself.
To live a full life and always be content.
So, heads up I walk into my future
Closing the door of my past.
Letting go of the riddle of a relationship
And leaving the hurt behind.
You are now a closed chapter.
The book I could not complete.*
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 9:21 AM UTC
Shimmering sudden sanctioning
Surfaces right in front of me
Twisting tomorrow’s tongue-tied testimony
Leaving my heart soaked in surrender
Colossal comb tethering in the hair of my offender
I wallowed in things to come while my whole life was spinning undone
Soothe thyself day to day so I won’t fade away
Internal clock knocks on my heartthrob
I am slipping into each moment
Oh I won’t hold it
I let go and slowly slip, swallowing every drip
This is just the tip of all there is
Reawaken each moment in this
Love lapses through me and I collapse into infinity
Struck by my own understanding
Preparing for divinity’s landing
I fall for it again and again
My dreams melting madness motion me onward
Tangible tussles through thick throats turning toward tomorrow
Sorrow leaks and seeps into the eyes of the blind
While they wait in their own mind
Suckling savage frolics as mankind slips into grayness
And blue lips use so much to say so little
Breaking our fiddle over our knees
Longing for hope hitched pleads
As our craze bleeds onto eternity, spun up into me
Creeping carefully so as not to spill this drill yet again
Letting it crack through the incomplete
Flushes back into the see
Finally, once again we arrive and float away with the breeze
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 2:10 PM UTC
*stepping back into the west
chills reverberate up and down my spine
chiseling open obsolescent padlocks
dangling with dust
on ancient treasure chests
pallid colors in the attic release
a blossoming familiarity
faint hints of retrospections float on faded paper
granting me access to roads
where no map is needed
as i peruse the streets
my heart flows coalescing with the vicinity
caressing each detail i transform to fluid
and fuse with the past
through fresh strokes of watercolored memories
recollections flash before my eyes
revealing antiquated stories
though thought forgotten
an etched history endeavors to define me
renewing itself as i turn each corner
i shudder at some remembrances while encompassing others
through synchronicity realization hits
that I am all of it
yet none of it
at the same time
familiar faces paint meaning onto me
no longer do they know me
yet they airbrush vestiges of yesteryear
and coat me with connotations
i allow them to think i am whatever they imagine
i morph into their canvas temporarily
then break free in multi-dimensionality
they don't hear me with a new listening
no longer invested in their projections
once sharp triggers now appear in soft focus
an auspicious mist lies around the edges
of my former life
it is as if i never left
yet traces of the east lie sandpapered in me
a maturation commingles with my former self
flushing out on my skin
tethering newfound emotions
a gentle gratitude for home territory
nestles softly
inward
i listen to the clicks
of my scuffed cowboy boots
on acquainted yet somehow distant sidewalks
the echoes layering multiple impressions
glimmering with the utter beauty of this terrain
as I wander through the majestic rocky mountains
drinking in the quaking aspen's crimson edges
interfacing the evergreens
hushed whispers of autumn loftily rest
juxtaposed neatly against futures waiting to unfurl in the wind
an amalgamation of intimate sights and scents
dance in open wounds
dazzling
homesickness cured
a wholeness returned
as winter's crystal dawn blooms
i realize the depth of my growth
for in leaving here and returning
i cherish the west
my home
©2016 janetaylor
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 3:50 AM UTC
You breathe my name into
your chest, letting me settle
like dust into your bones.
Tethering me to this moment,
eyes fierce, burning as vibrant
as tiger lilies in a vengeful sun.
Your fingers burning holes in
our sheets, leaving remnants
of their disgust in my scars.
Even to this day I cannot stay
up for the sunrise, I find your
taste infused on my tongue.
And I'm still left to wonder if it
was Lucifer I saw in your eyes
or the gods that condemned me.
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
Untethered. Somehow,
once I become untethered
to the prison of this life,
I can see to focus more intently
on what is most important
if I pay attention to this inside,
what I am, instead of focusing on
the tether or what it’s tied to.
What would happen if
every single last one of us,
all the billions of souls,
human ones, alive,
all untethered
at the same time?
And what if we let our
untethered hearts
lead us to the destiny
we didn’t see
from all the chaffing from
the too tight tethering?
The vision I see is
something like a healthy,
humming, honey-bee hive
on our larger human scale.
Isn’t every working part
so individually, blissfully alive?
I suppose, if the goo is honey,
it's so much better than if it’s ****
or congealing blood.
That is, if we have to have goo, which
here on earth, yeah, I’m certain
it’s a universal law,
we really do need goo.
I questioned the Devi
and she only giggled.
I had to admit, she’s right.
Then, I accepted a goblet of
her sweet honey wine;
and it didn’t hurt all that much at all
growing the rest of my little wings.
Buzz, buzz, buzzing about
our wonderful beehive,
blissfully drunk on Mother’s
Divine Honey Wine.
Feb 4, 2022
Feb 4, 2022 at 8:24 PM UTC
Time: 1
Us: 0
Will it always be like this?
Swinging our racquets at Einstein's illusion.
Singing, singing, singing 'Stop
the World I Wanna Get Off
With You'
when nobody hears
over the relentless tick-tocks.
As
as
the clock's hands
push
push
pull us together,
apart.
Hey, you.
Are we lovers or are we opponents?
Let's look at the scoreboard.
Time: 1
Us: 0
In school, they taught us perseverance.
So we keep
dancing, dancing, dancing
around
the hands of the clock.
I'm on number 3 and
you face me.
What's it like on number 9?
What's it like to be on the edge of
the next hour,
the next day,
the next big thing?
You're on number 9, I'm on number 3.
I face you, you face me.
Are we lovers or are we opponents?
I face you,
you face me.
So easy for us to...
So easy for us to love, but
so easy for us to leave.
So easy to fight, to
wrap our hands
around
each other's throats
simultaneously.
So easy to embrace, so
easy to walk away
when you are the west and I am the east.
I'll ask you again:
Are we lovers or are we opponents?
Eyes flit up to the scoreboard,
even though
we don't want to look
away from each other.
Time: 1
Us: 0
The ball is in no one's court anymore.
No more back and forth,
stichomythia, repartee.
Nor round and
round
when it's all an illusion,
isn't it?
Don't look.
Don't bring it up.
Time: 1
Us: 0
The figures are getting bolder, louder
than the ticking.
Tell me, tell me, before
you move to 10
and our angles get skew,
tripping over the clock's hands,
because we forgot the steps of
our dance.
Tell me, tell me, what it's like
when you see me
all the way from number 9
while I'm on number 3.
The scoreboard's screeching
like a train ready to leave.
Time: 1
Us: 0
The audience is already beginning to clap.
They have loved us
and so have we.
We put on quite the show,
enough to rival Djokovic or Murray.
But neither of us will walk out with gold.
Not when we've lost to an abstraction
that can swallow us into
memories.
We get silver medals.
Around our necks, choking
but we clasp them tightly
so they can sparkle on our chests.
My silver beams to you,
your silver beams to me.
On and off,
a Morse code speech.
When we can't speak,
can't breathe,
that seems to suffice.
Here is a case of beautiful irony:
How did we meet?
Your eyes
saw in
my eyes
that silver gleam.
My eyes
saw in
your eyes
the very same thing.
Remember:
I face you, you face me.
Are we lovers or are we opponents?
The scoreboard screams:
Time: 1
Us: 0
I bought a watch today, why
did I do that?
I'm so smart but
I'm so stupid.
I face you, you face me.
It's not an illusion, is it?
Look at me.
Is it?
Time: 1
Us: 0
We're finished.
But then how could we have ever won
when neither of us knew how to play tennis?
We look at each other
so the scoreboard can dissolve
instead of us.
Like your eyes
in my eyes
a tethering glance,
could hold us in an eternal position.
Like a single look
could sustain us
stationary.
I face you, you
start to leave.
It doesn't matter now.
Everything's spilling out
on the loudspeaker.
(And for once, you don't wish to seek this one truth.)
Time: 1
Us: 0
It will always be like this.
Time: one.
Us: love.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 11:37 AM UTC
I remember when I started drinking
myself to excess and I thought of you
how you didn't deserve such a **** friend
who couldn't keep their life from spiraling
I protected you the only way I knew how
pushing you away hurt but it was right
though I felt like you were, at that moment,
the last string tethering me to existence itself
I knew I was no good for you the way I was
though I wanted to call or text dozens of times
tell you about getting in to school or how
I had both fallen in love (and lost them entirely)
it was easy to go back to friendship
we're both the same people
we both love and care about each other
I don't miss what we had, because it's still here
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 3:23 AM UTC
Fear.
For so long, I let it sink its tainted fangs into my neck, drawing blood that dripped to my ankles like something that could make angels tremble in the heavens.
It listened to me speak. I could see the hunched curvature of its spine in every corner of my imagination, watched it swallow the colors of my soul like leftover soup.
Consuming.
It surrounded me, an anchor tethering my heels to hollow ground.
But then I discovered poetry. I discovered the syllabic freedom of bleeding love into the spines of empty journals. I found out that poetry existed in glistening foreheads and moments spent trying to catch my breath again, in split ends and blotted lipstick stains.
I discovered that airplanes do not plummet into the Atlantic Ocean as often as I thought. I discovered that I can ride them without becoming another muted headline, a tragic statistic blaring into the white noise of late night television.
I discovered that my voice had meaning, that it deserved the embrace of a microphone, an eager audience, to be shouted and sung like lyrics to a revolution I had always been taught to silence.
I discovered that proving people wrong is fun.
To the boy who told me at age 13 that I would grow up and become someone’s biggest disappointment, this one is for you. To the despair that kept me wide awake until mornings I wished would be my last, this one is for you. To the same girl who doubted that she would make it, that her brain would ever stop screaming the same addictive chemicals that questioned her very fragile existence, this one is for you.
I made it.
I dyed my hair bright red because I am a fire that refuses to die out, my heartbeats fanning the flames of a life I have yet to conquer. I sing in the shower, with my car windows rolled down at fifty miles per hour, in my sleep. I have tasted tenderness in the form of a heart that beats for mine. I am loved, I am young, and I am burning fearlessness with every breath.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 10:24 PM UTC
At the bottom of the world,
There's an anchor tethering,
Us in place.
Ensuring that the moon,
Is always the right way up,
In that star studded sky,
For you to watch,
And me to smile at,
Knowing that you watch,
Is ALL.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 5:35 PM UTC
On a bleak and frosty night
Vexed and weary two travelers rode
Along the pathways-craggy and ragged
From Nazareth, trudging miles on end
Full pregnant, was she with child
Mary -the ****** suffused with Spirit Holy
Divinely ordained to bear the Godly Prince
Conceived before, she had known her spouse.
Abiding in Heaven’s Providence n’ care
They had rode past miles behind
Far too fatigued by the trip
Mary, now badly needed a place to rest.
Heading towards the blinking lights
Not far from the city’s guarded gate
Joseph sighted a tavern-small
Perched high on a tiny hill
A sense of relief beamed past
They have come at last to the journey’s end
Finally found a place to rest!
An interim home away from home
Tethering the donkey outside the gate
Joseph helped Mary alight the brute
In eager search, he hurried inside
With Mary, following with faltering steps.
But the couple, to their dismay found
Within the tavern, room, there was none
For many a man had gathered round
To halt there on that freezing night
Sundry folk from surrounding lands
Had reached Bethlehem for the yearly census
Tradesmen selling clothes and cheese
Nomads of varying clans and clime
Petulant camels, braying donkeys
The place was littered with man and beast.
The tavern small, so packed to full
Had no more space to harbor the crowd
Mary and Joseph, though dejected,
Were encamped within a manger- warm
With tender concern, Joseph joked,
To ease the strain on Mary’s face
“Gaze upon this palace of gold
Where a son shall soon be born to us”!
Mary smiled a gentle smile,
Humored by her husband’s jest
Under the gaze of tethered hosts
In veiled privacy of the midnight gloom
She gave birth to a radiant child,
The great Redeemer to all Mankind
The star studded sky suddenly glowed
With a rare brilliance never beheld
And a celestial voice trailed along
Delivering ‘tidings of joy’ to the globe around
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 7:11 AM UTC
... a lamentable natural disaster ―
no one really ever understood
the uncomfortable loneliness they read,
left unsaid, in the silence between the lines
Gathered words often revealed
an awkward vulnerability
a life tethering by a frayed thread
unable to shed the skin that enfolds
the dauntingly misunderstood laments
Suspended at friendless crossroads
melancholy days of malignant indifference
stifle the whispered thoughts,
"accepting an unfinished life"
evanescent as the faltering light,
musing many a sleepless night
It’s as if there was always some wordless reason
to never feel "good enough" to just be,
unworthy to discover elusive love,
cleave a labyrinth out of the darkness,
okay to just let go
It’s not a weakness to be human
"Tears are the heart’s traces" … he once wrote
"only eyes cleansed by teardrops see clearly"
heaven's rain unconditionally enlightened
by love and light.
Someone said a poet died
trying to make sense
out of all he thought he'd given
a word at a time was left behind
only abandoned words remain
orphaned in the drowning silence
harlon rivers ©
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 12:17 PM UTC
I'm afraid to slow down, as if loss of repetitiveness allows for sediments.
Mind races, paces.
Over works its self in the wake of new faces.
I'm begging for acceptance to follow this direction.
Harvesting all this love, gaining gems of affection
Scarred and torn my flesh is my own,
I'm grown.
Up, I climb further into danger's soothing catacombs.
The shells of un-fulfillment shed with precision.
I'm dreaming of blackouts with a blurred vision.
Steeping tea of poor decisions.
Wasted, wasting, weightless.
Repetitive, sediments, settling into broken dreams.
Filling the corners of my mind, spilling hope,
Tethering seams.
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 10:19 AM UTC
If being stripped of liberty,
We owe no responsibility
To tethering our ties
To a system of lies.
Insanity, defined,
If we choose to read,
Means working to thrive
Through ways we won't succeed.
The system is broken.
Turn off the machine.
If doubt has not awoken,
Ask yourself, please:
Do you question many things
That you hear spoken?
Do you admit your own views
May contain false notions?
Does our culture retain
Unnecessary devotions?
Is government improving,
Bringing peace across oceans?
Emancipate from demands
Of societal bands.
Renounce the commands
And requests that don't stand
The test of your ability
To reason with civility.
A question is a "quest I on"
Not a destination.
It leads to many places.
Go ahead. Try it on.
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 1:11 AM UTC
you take
refuge in your flight
on your pinions
you gracefully
adorn the
smudged
sky
while i?
i lie tethering
my ankles to the
ground
SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/21/2016
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 11:25 PM UTC
Out across the distance,
they'll be knotting up loose ends
and taking names from strangers
like suggestions, fading into
sunrise friendships
Waiting room.
A dreary day.
Silence couched
in thumb-smeared detail
What they found
was fresh enough
to stop the gap
between smudged-out Fridays
To remove their ceilings.
To rip off old, dead scabs.
Listen, now, I'm not angry,
I only need some air.
I've bloodied hands against these walls
and I'm done doing all of my dying here
So pick me up at 9.
Let me leak into the night
and help me saw through my tethering lines.
Here in this apartment,
sit and simmer in the dark
and bevel out the edges
of a batch of nights 'til this one's
dulled out, hand-safe.
Waiting room.
An Autumn night
swiftly rose
beyond these four walls.
All I've got
are window panes
to lean my arms
and glance out at rainfall.
As it falls asleep and
snow flakes drop like old scabs
Listen, pal, I'm just hungry;
d'ya wanna grab a beer?
I've made fast friends with these four walls
but I'm done doing all of my dying here
Let me out into the night,
where the weather can't decide--
--between cold rain
and lazy, half-assed snow.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
A no-strings-attached thing is easy to arrange
It sounds exciting too, seems very straightforward
But sometimes you get caught up in things you don’t expect
Before you know it, you start caring
You develop feelings
You learn things about the other person
Her middle name, her favourite music, food
Her pet peeves, ambitions
You learn her innermost thoughts
Her insecurities, her ****** proclivities,
The little birthmark just above her mons *****
The one that she says looks like a map of the Dominican Republic
You lie in bed with her all day
She teaches you how to swear in Farsi.
You **** her every day.
One day she sees you making out with this random ****** and she flips
You say, but we said no strings attached or did we not?
It’s not as simple as that though, it never is
But this girl, she believes in you
She’s a paragon of patience
She sits you down and tells you to listen to her carefully
She explains to you that now you are sleeping with her on the regular
Your body is somehow her body too, partly, and vice versa
Says she understands that you are not together officially
But intimacy usually comes with an implied exclusiveness.
You say, Ok, I've heard you. And I understand where you’re coming from.
Then you tell her to **** off.
Time passes
You begin to miss her.
But you’re pride won’t let you call her.
You have *** three times with two different girls in one weekend
One of those girls has a boyfriend, you **** her in a night club restroom.
The other one on the beach a day after
Then a few hours later in her bedroom.
In the morning her room is all sandy,
Going home you begin reflecting on things
You've learnt one thing for sure:
However much top-shelf ***** you get, it doesn't compare to the love of a good girl
So it doesn't matter how many lovers you have in this world
If none of them give you the world.
You swallow your pride and call her
She can’t make it, she says.
But she comes the next day in the evening.
You explain everything,
How it felt like she was tethering you to her
How you took it all too lightly.
You’re not too good at it, talking about your feelings
You say that what she’d told you that day had gone through one ear, out the other
So you had to learn it all by yourself, you had to go through it
Finally, you apologise.
You’re very sincere.
She asks you, so is this closure?
You don’t want it to be, but you don’t know if you actually deserve her
**** you don’t know if she’d even take you back.
If she does, you've still got a lot to prove.
You’ll be in luck, but you’ll be starting on nothing.
If she doesn't then you knew and blew a good thing.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
it’s the twelfth of can’t-remember
as i find myself marveling at the soft cadence of your affection
fluttering against my cheek in faint echoes of conjured memories,
and crafted illusions which bind me in turn,
to the hollow chambers of misfiring synapses
and daisy-chained coaxials tethering my lips
to this anvil-shaped heart.
the steam rises in wispy forms
from places where all is void
and memories are married with dreams
becoming those smiling faces
left in the picture frame i brought home from the store,
smudged by the cellophane,
and now conceived whole by the very absence
of a loving progeny to call my own -
pieces of me left to bloom amidst the shadows
exalting themselves sub rosa within the absence of light.
it is a moment to taste the waters
and wade out until my bristly chin
is beguiled by the ripples born
of *ulacia's stone finally reaching the bottom,
and cry out little pieces of nothingness
to bounce off of the shoreline,
if only to sate the grumbling deception
that my tears could float here without end or amen,
isolated within these painful shapes of you
to clot the cursive wounds
all the while imploring of elysium
that one day i shall awaken to a strange smell
and realize . . . that i am burning.
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 11:12 PM UTC
Such a playful synergy
Your heart strings and mine
Thrumming on our frequencies
Drawing fourth sacred energy
Running on light beams
Dipping our toes into notes
And hands wafting in melodies
Dizzying highs and resounding lows
Shattering boredom
Stepping on apathy
And plucking joy from the air
A glorious spiritual liturgy
How beautiful now since we've learned to pray
Drawing such sublime adventures
Going this way and that
Shuffling the order of truths and mystic mysteries
Coming full circle where withall
then bounding off again.
Such a lifting of feet
a symphony of etherial musings
The tethering of our minds eyes
innocent daydreams
Making a mockery of darkness
Shining in the glory light beams
Bloated with gladness
Soaring with hopes
Soul Edifying
And that's just the beginning
Of our poetry.
Oct 22, 2022
Oct 22, 2022 at 12:11 PM UTC
Sometimes I imagine that you could use a flat blade knife and separate parts of my body.
Like an anatomical model, an arm in half, a wrist entirely off.
An outmoded coloured wax model. Perhaps, a very old one. A decorated one with human or horse hair, closed eyelids and uncomfortable lips, and like those ancient roman ones, thinning sheens of paint on top.
The blade would slip through neatly, perhaps catching friction as it passes the block of soap texture, and leaves grimy residue on the knife.
You can see the vessels.
They are not clean.
Like my soul there are very nearly translucent scrapes and patches of liquid. Some days the liquid spills out.
Some days I just want to clean out. I want to purge, but I know I will just melt and the mistakes will be just as visible. You will see the marks that look like mouse's claws or pincers where I have pulled apart the skin trying to work out what went wrong. Doing some kind of surgery. Inside tying double sided sticky tape and chips of plastic, driving them in deep and forgetting about them.
When you say those things I can't be big anymore. If I'm tired you make me cry. Salt crisps up my intestines.
You make me imagine what it would be like to plunge a knife into my stomach.
I bet it would be satisfying like the braking of chocolate. Cracking of value bars.
But I have to remember that you are the organs thrown out at the end of the day, sloshing around in the bucket and I deserve to be preserved and anything that had been cried over or crafted is better than a remote controlled car. Stop telling me that it's not.
It's not as if I'm trying to be a petal or a fragment of netting fallen off a ballerina's skirt.
I've chosen to hover above the blades. I am nothing so frivolous. Feeling at home in a web of metal coated in paisley oven gloves. I am safe here. In fact I'm glad that thick haze separates us. You will never be able to find somewhere so tranquil. It makes me happy that there is no possibility that we can meet in the middle. It just makes it easier to keep the space, without the concern of some congealing platelets tethering to a surface which was never there.
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 8:56 AM UTC
Under the flowering moon
Your naked body lies
Bound to the lunars tendrils
Tethering to your skins ambiance
Fingeringly scalinging the motions of your body
Following your soulful extractions
Silver lights incarnate driven passion
O' woman, woman of the moon
Of the night, of darkness
Dance with me
Dance the dance of love,
Of the heart, of passion,
Of Desires stowed deep within the mind
Beneath the woven fabric of a feral night
Entwined within the stitches silver aura
These stars our only witness
As the darkness spreads it's clinching grasp
Plunging our passions into carnal chaos
Watching the heavy rise and fall of your chest
The echoes of your hearts breath in my mind
The chemical passion of our physical bodies
Consumes the desires of our flesh
Shadows contouring to the night
The sweet nectar of your lips
An everlasting enticement to mine
Darkly decadent sensations pressing on
Only as creatures within can conjure
Elegantly crafting and artistically formulated
These darkest nights memoirs
Sated with our own designs
Unrelenting and intoxicating
Addicting and compounding
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
Allowing the dust to settle
And the hovering mist to part
You can't live inside of my mind,
There's more space for you in my heart
I keep myself busy to stay aflame
While the world slowly turns
I'm sprinting through days that blur
And suffering through the burns
Toggling between elation and insecurity
Emotions aren't permanent, only temporary
Experience has taught me everyone goes eventually
Resilient to adversity shrouding me
In its tethering web of prickly hairs
Mourning the nascence of elation
And all of the splendor it bewares
A cocktail of hormones straight to the dome
Nostalgia hitting in waves
Dragging me back in time to those hopeless romantic days
Jun 24, 2023
Jun 24, 2023 at 6:39 PM UTC
Your voice is stuck inside my head
like an old song I'd heard a thousand times,
It's melody once comforting
now only leaves me cold.
as bittersweet nostalgia washes over me
my mind replays the sweet nothings you once whispered in my ear.
every word carrying its own tune
but never carrying any weight
each syllable fluctuating ever so slightly
just like your emotions did
One day your words like feathers forming mighty wings to lift me up
others your words crafting cement blocks tethering my heart down
sinking to the bottom of a dark sea
each threat crashing around me like waves
throwing by body from side to side
like your hands once did
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 1:55 AM UTC