"thuds" poems
The thuds in my chest stopped being my heart a long time ago-
my feelings ceased,
and maybe me,
the initial person I was,
is knocking on my ribs
begging for freedom.
Throughout all the voices in my head,
his is the lowest,
getting tangled in with all the
killers that took him,
torturing him until he's nothing but a headstone.
You don't see it,
but I do,
how I open my mouth to speak,
and he's accepted I just won't accent my words the way he used to.
My disappointment tore up your eyes,
as you saw the person I was
formed by a web of lies I loved to string up,
and tried to pretend I wasn't struggling to
get out-
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 11:33 AM UTC
Sunshine,
Birdsong
And children drunk on
Lemonade
And laughter.
That Welsh picnic
Has lasted forty years
And will last forty more
In daydream
And nightmare.
The stream babbled
Over pebbles,
Fern fronds
Brushed our sun-browned shins
Till the dead sheep
Slugged us in the guts.
Bloated and bulbous,
The body dammed the stream,
Its lifeless eyes
Crawling with life.
Those pearly marbles were
A child’s looking glass into death.
The rocks we hurled at it
In reckless revulsion
Were the screams
Of violated youth,
And those empty dead sheep thuds
The dawning of our mortality.
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 3:20 AM UTC
I enter Auschwitz 1.
Apprehensive crunches with every step.
I stand in a gas chamber.
Fully clothed.
With oxygen flowing freely.
I stand on a spot where thousands have stood before me.
But I'm able to make an exit,
Yet I'm rooted to the floor,
Transfixed with horror.
I feel like the last remaining tree,
surrounded by a forest of death.
Deforestation makes me sick.
*
Birkenau has a secret
that it doesn't want to tell.
A broken ending stood still.
The arches.
The ruins.
The tracks.
Thuds of reality slapping my face.
Stood inside the bleak barracks,
our guide asks us
"Imagine what it would like to be here -
What you'd see,
smell,
hear."
My eyes widen open in a scream,
they sting, fighting back at the image conjured within my mind.
I take a sharp breath
and close my eyes.
I am scared.
Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 10:00 AM UTC
Have you considered being a *** worker?
You have a body.
I know you never sleep there,
spend less time breathing than associating with your own ribcage.
You're an actress
no script, just a character summary.
Limp, age 12, non-verbal marionette.
*Snaps her strings when forced to dance.
Clings to the ceiling tiles, like the shadows she hallucinates.
Let's the puppet fall numb under strangers.
Ragdoll to be used for kindling.*
When you play your part
You'll inherit enough money to afford a studio apartment
in Washington, or Las Vegas; anywhere with men paid large enough salary to afford your vacant body,
three phone plans,
a hotel room for you to stay awake in
Listening to dull thuds against your wrongfully warm corpse
Invited hoping the stinging could form tendons
adhere together like rubber bands
Snap you back into your skin.
You cling helpless to the ceiling tiles
Watch the ragdoll make mistakes.
*"Have you considered being a *** worker?"*
A homeless woman asked me,
*"Unoccupied bodies should start charging rent.
Let a man who can afford it pay for utilities.
You might be homeless
but you won't be wasted space".*
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 1:56 PM UTC
The blaze of the sun cut through their flesh
Sun kissed sweaty skin and dehydrated lungs
Knelled and cried for mercy
The heavens answered their prayers
Loud thuds were heard like a roaring lion
Lightning struck like a shooting star
Their quench was put off
Soil's aroma spread; it rained.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
In the heart of the city of peace, a sinful act occurs:
Blue bruises of love beautify my neck, just as hers;
Colouring this grey canvas of gloom with divine thuds,
It is then, when they rush into us: the filthy bloods.
Stain me with sins, and paint in white over me vigorously,
Let the gods who created us, design our hell rigorously,
Let knees rumble, red eyes tumble, and virtues stumble,
Stumble into a chaotic loss of heads: a loss humble.
Aug 28, 2021
Aug 28, 2021 at 7:39 AM UTC
Crickets that chirp all day and all night
Looking for love in their season
Overgrown fields rife with golden rod
The same as they are every year
Earlier sunsets we notice at mid-month
(Wonder where the summer went)
Cool mornings with fog
Still air with familiar scents
Bats from behind shutters
Pursue their flights at dusk
(If only we could fly with them)
Apples fall from trees, soft, little thuds,
Remind us of other late summers, and of gravity
Migrating birds eat honeysuckle berries
While a monarch spreads her wings
On white phlox
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 10:18 AM UTC
The feeling of butterflies in your stomach.
The feeling of losing your breath..
and stumbling to find words
feeling clumsy in every movement in their presence.
I'm my own person.
I'm not shy.
I don't get feelings.
I'm not short of words.
I don't get emotional.
I don't get feelings like this.
But feelings are like rain.
You can be in a drought and miss it like hell
..or..
you can forget what it's even like to have water.
But when it comes it floods.
You remember how beautiful the sound of rain is.
How it toys with your insides and makes you feel a roller coaster of emotions.
It makes you feel comforted and at peace
yet its dark and makes you feel alone.
It consumes your thoughts.
It has it's own intentions that you may never know,
it's mysterious and ever changing as it thuds on your rooftop so that all you can hear is its presence then within seconds disappears and when you look outside it's only evidence of existence is the puddle running down the road to disappear like it was never even there.
It is the feeling of love.
You can't control when it comes
you never know how long it will stay but god **** it it's all you can think about when it's here.
But this isn't my first storm.
While I should be dancing in the rain I never forgot the burn of the last storm.
The lightening struck and everything that was, never was the same.
Within a blink of my eye the rain was gone and I spent years trying to recover from the damage it left.
It ruined the curiosity of what each storm entails.
Instead of dancing in the rain I hide from it.
It's hard to let something overtake you when you don't know it's intentions or how long it will stay.
But you can't avoid rain forever.
It feeds and rejuvenates the world.
It gives life to the plants and makes them oh so vivid and colorful.
It washes away the past and gives light to the sun.
I just need to find the storm that always stays with me for the return of the sun.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 12:46 AM UTC
I wish I could spare you words like beautiful, babe, figure and thin.
I wish I could guarantee you a complete disregard for the size of your *******
Or the length of your legs.
I pray never to find you hunched over the toilet
Or hiding a sandwich under books in your bag.
What will the equivalent of cyberbullying be, in ten years time?
I will try, so very hard, to keep you safe.
Please, always talk to each other, and to me.
Share your heart’s bleedings
And I will help you staunch the flow.
I will find the courage to share my failings
And the confidence to pass on my successes,
Both were instrumental in my becoming the woman I am,
A woman I hope you will be proud of, and applaud.
It is hard to be a woman, in this world,
Urged, relentlessly to perfection,
Bombarded with it, drowned in it,
But perfection is a myth, and becomes imperfect with attainment,
It is the imperfections that will mesmerise,
Embrace them, love them, let them shine.
How long did it take me to learn these lessons?
Have I learned them, even now?
Sometimes I think I have, then I become overwhelmed
By anxiety and self-doubt.
This will happen to you too,
I cannot hope to save you from it
But I can provide some armour.
Think for yourselves,
Reject the babble and the screens, the illusion of celebrity
Twenty-first century addictions.
Do not become a slave to technology.
I can see how hard that will be,
But it must be done, if you are to remain people,
Retain your humanity.
I will help you; I will hold your hands.
You are tiny now, but I can see the strength within you both,
And I will nurture it, protect it,
Then it will protect you, out there.
I promise I will always be your tigress,
But you will not always be my little cubs
I will have to find a way to sheath my claws,
And let you stalk your own prey,
And evade the predators, just as I have done.
I watch you, playing happily together in the sun,
And wish you peace, and love, and joy.
Such simple things, yet so elusive.
I will not show you this poem.
But I will read it, frequently,
And try to keep my promises.
My heart thuds in my chest, each a double-beat
A constant repetition of your names,
Tattooed onto my soul.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
I am banging on the walls
Loud, angry thuds echo around me
I am screaming for you to see me
But you tell me you can’t
You can’t see through the walls,
The walls you claim that I have built
My legs tremble as I fall
The skin on my knees curl around the gravel
And I wonder
As you walk away
Why can’t you see me through these glass walls?
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 3:02 PM UTC
After the rain, came the heavy snow.
Falling with silent thuds through the trees,
the bush and below.
Muffled crunches of boot ensconced children
zipping up parkas against flakes by the million.
Stillness in my heart slipping through the broken parts,
dripping to the snow in colors of blue and vermillion.
The quiet flakes gently holding my confusion and loneliness.
Caressing my cheeks as a mother would to her child crying
in whispered tearfulness
A painful summer ambled slowly away leaving a far fairer autumn
but as winter and her snows knocked at my door, the mountain beckoned, and I lost him.
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 11:07 PM UTC
The fast tempo of hummingbirds in flower buds
Loud repetition of woodpecker thuds
Buzzing hum from hardworking bees
While robins sing in synchronized keys
All accompanied by the swishing of leaves in the trees
There is no better symphony
Than that of nature working in harmony
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 8:55 PM UTC
Under the blanket of slanted waters, streaming down,
Behind the silver linings of the distant thunderclouds
The eternal sun lies suffocating, sheathed by the storm.
The rain smears the gray heavens. The world
Drowns behind the endless battery of the downpour.
Each trickle, each moment, quickly falling. Fading
Into the cesspool of dirt and debris. The pit
Of emotions and forgotten truths, washed away.
The leaves twist and turn at every droplet's touch
Crying out in soft thuds on the heavy roofs above.
Like the tin roofs and the sun and the heavens
And like the leaves and the dirt and debris
I gently whisper my pleas to the deluge:
*Rain.
Purge me.
Douse the embers
of false passion and ire.
Absolve me.
Cleanse this melancholy.
Ease these memories.
Purify me.
Rinse away the guilt.
Sink these doubts.
Restore me.
Clarify my vision.
Refine my thoughts.
Heal me.
Replenish my soul.
Bring about forgiveness.
Rain.
Revitalize my roots.
Soothe my mind.
Soak my bones.
Calm my spirit.
With your perennial blessings,
Bathe me in your sacred waters
So that peace
May finally find me.*
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 12:35 AM UTC
At least three times a week
Thumps, bangs, a loud crash,
Doors slamming, metallic echoes,
Bumps, thuds, sharp edges, smash
I hear shouting, muffled, no words,
His voice booms and beats against the walls.
Hushed stillness after, as i wait to hear him slam out
Clattering feet on the stair to the street
Airless, exhausted relief as they fade.
Everything echoes in empty impersonal corridors
Magnolia walls, polished floors, plain blank doors.
The room behind one containing locked fear and silence.
I sense it there
Hear it breath through the walls
It enters my room, far more than the noise
A pounding, held in fear
So loud that it keeps me awake
As I listen, long after.
Next morning, so aware of silence,
When I hear a sound near my door
I jump, as alert as a hunted animal.
I hear her heart clench
So linked to this stranger by sounds
Though I have never imagined her face
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 7:37 AM UTC
I can tell I'm depressed
When I don't take the laundry
Out of the washer,
Where it has been cleansed of its sins
Of passion, or rage, of greasy fast food.
My filthy hands would ruin them.
So I wait for my roommate
To baptize his own spotless hands
With MY damp boxers.
The habitual thuds of my soggy clothes
Against the back of the dryer
Are a nice distraction.
My favorite flannel dances
With her tiny lost sock.
But 45 minutes isn't enough.
I don't want to end their fun,
So I leave them there
And hope that they'll fuse forever.
He tosses the clothes onto my floor,
Scattering them, wrinkling them, freeing them.
Corduroys atop henleys under crew socks and tees.
Folding them would be a waste
Of a catastrophic masterpiece.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 11:25 PM UTC
The train ground to a halt,
Reluctantly sighing from the fatigue
Of another aching dance along the tracks,
Stained by raindrops and gravel,
I am sorry to make you carry me.
The suitcase thuds against the Tarmac
As I step on to Platform 2,
I am surrounded by other travellers,
Some dressed in their suits and professional stature,
Others dressed in coats and jeans and relief,
I see a boy and girl embrace and kiss,
He takes her luggage and they walk off hand in hand,
Another woman hugs her sister,
Or even a friend
And laugh and kiss one another on the cheek,
I drag my suitcase behind me,
My head clouded with the sound of footprints
Against wet Tarmac,
Walking along the yellow line until I reach the stairs,
Down I go.
New Year's Eve,
Celebration and intoxication
Lingered in the freezing wintry dusk,
Fireworks and beer,
Singing and champagne,
I am a part of it.
I slide my ticket into the machine and it lets me pass
With no resistance,
He waits there in the exit,
Hands in his pocket,
A smile on his rosy face
That has been kissed by the cold,
We leave the station,
Happiness surging between us.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
I fall down, it's no longer bright
Land in a black hole, without light
Oh wait, it's a brown hole tonight
I am falling into your brown eyes
I hope they're authentic, no disguise
Because you truly are a delight
"Oh hey, you look nice"
**** it, you stole my line
"So do you" I weakly reply
My heart thuds and you smile
You lean in, I feel your teasing bite
My tender lips, more than alright
Feel pure pleasure, without fright
There's only excitement, this time
Spare me the misery, my divine
All of the rules have been defied
It's possible that you liked it
But next time you'll deny it
You'll deny my lips with a sigh
I'll deny your denial, what a crime
Better luck next time.
You tasted of... Vanilla, am I right?
You really know how to kiss a guy
Made it feel like my time to shine
Made me feel like I was liked
Pulled my hair, oh, what a life
Held my hands, pulled me in tight
And then a cheeky kiss goodnight
I had to wait for so long... Why?
I guess we've both always been shy
I guess we've both been far behind
But I guess now we would be fine
To hang out, maybe once or twice
With only us, just you and I
That is, if you wouldn't mind
I mean, it's always worth a try
Until then, vanilla lips,
Goodbye...
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
Dark clouds shadow my world as coldness seeps through my frame
Nervous energy blooms inside
intertwined with thoughts of shame
My hands shake and my breathing is fast
There is no reason, this has nothing to do with the past
Heavily burdened with a bell jar of thick fractured glass
I've found myself beaten down, having discovered this will not pass
I watch fatigued by it all
the colors and sounds
the landscape
the rise and fall
Placing my hands on the frosted barrier
searching for a leak of warmth
a possible carrier forth
My hands fall in defeat
I sink farther down and blackness I solemnly greet
I close my eyes waiting for it wash over me again and again
to crash on my shore then retreat
Moon tide controlled in my mind, incessantly forever beat
I wish with rapid fire desire for the fall of the bell jars empire
My heart thuds
blood rushing sound in my ears
I stare straight ahead filled with a commensurate of fears
Darkness descends and I am captured in my bell jar yet again.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:23 PM UTC
An underlying sense of counting down –
A rhythm deep: enteric thuds –
Each another year to fret and frown
About, wading in the claggy muds
Of trial – to here, the blackened life.
A glint of blade had caught a baggy eye,
Sparking thoughts to jump the fence.
Could I grasp the handle – was I shy
Of what I had to do and hence remain
Enshrined in overwhelming strife?
The metal winked at me again
To beg the possibility
Of halting once and all the pain
To relish an eternity
Of rested shoulders,
Peace of mind;
So here, my wrist
For ‘quick and kind.’
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 12:40 AM UTC
Listening to your heartbeat like it's a story that'll never be told again
listening to your heartbeat like it's the first edition vinyl
of my favourite song
and the only copy ever made
listening to your heartbeat
like the universe is sending me a message
through the whistles of the wind
listening to your heartbeat like science is trying to contact me
via the thuds of your *****
and justify the inexplicable
of how two astronomically unidentifiable catastrophes
clashed and become one planet
in a galaxy surrrounded by false stars
that actually turned out to be passing planes
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:51 PM UTC
Leather and Lace
It's a killer embrace
wrapped up in sin
a mischievous grin
lock the door
clothes on the floor
your eyes are on me
my heart beats wildly
pull me close
breathe my name
I've never been one for your
stupid
little
games
The bed is soft
your hands are rough
"God you're so beautiful"
I don't dare call your bluff
shallow breaths
and heaving chests
there's lust in your eyes
fingers caress my thighs
you smell of leather
as you pull down my lace
I snap my eyes shut
and drink in your taste
once I was cold
but now I am burning
burning and yearning
for more of that embrace
it's killer
it's wicked
and I can't get enough
my insides are stirring
my heart skips a beat
my mind is far gone
I realize you've won
but so what if you did
because in the moment
in that very
moment
I've never needed you more
The feel of your pulse
it races against mine
my heart thuds once more
and then I open my eyes
hooded stares
shaky limbs
I fall to your chest
and breathe in your skin
it warms and tingles my inner core
sending a shock wave until
I
can't
take
any
more
lust and love
I couldn't tell the difference
i just wanted you to stay
and hold me
and wash all of it away
the sorrow
the pain
the loss of innocence
the darkness beneath
and the lack of what once was
the feel of your body
it lingers against mine
as you reach for your leather
and I pull on my lace
I turn to your face
to see the emptiness still remains
You pull me in your arms
one last time
no words are spoken
and the silence echoes
Your arms fall to your side
and in one long stride
you unlock the door
The silence is broken
by the slam of the door
a mirror falls off the wall
and just like my world
it shatters
I'm alone again
and left to contemplate
is it even worth it anymore?
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
............................................... on the.................................................
moth eaten pages,
i pen
the discovery,
i dread
my existence
in this world.
in the abode of black men,
among the filth of mankind,
scattered in those dimly lighten ghettos
relaying an unforgivable legacy
i stood
as a moss covered relic
silhouetted against the light
a moppet,
born in this tabooed world
a scar upon my kins
who likely preferred a boy
biped,
standing alone in the moor
beheld a future
turned into debris
like flies ,
swarming around a glare
many a cold hapless eyes ,
i met
hovering over me
eyeing me - a hellion
and soon they drew my fate
every door
shut upon my face
forcing me
to creep in to corners
and live
under the shadows
to defy them proved grim
only to be hugged
often by heartless whips
or burnt by cigarette thuds
thus like a ****
amid st the bean stalk
they uprooted me
from their lives
and thawed my efforts
to seek the world
after all who am i
a girl
yes a girl
a taboo....
or a disgrace?
i was killed
murdered...in my mothers womb
my blood spilled
before i was born
before i could see
before i could breath
they choked me
to death
from life
from
me ....
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 10:02 AM UTC
I have been urged by earnest violins
And drunk their mellow sorrows to the slake
Of all my sorrows and my thirsting sins.
My heart has beaten for a brave drum's sake.
Huge chords have wrought me mighty: I have hurled
Thuds of gods' thunder. And with old winds pondered
Over the curse of this chaotic world,-
With low lost winds that maundered as they wandered.
I have been gay with trivial fifes that laugh;
And songs more sweet than possible things are sweet;
And gongs, and oboes. Yet I guessed not half
Life's symphony till I had made hearts beat,
And touched Love's body into trembling cries,
And blown my love's lips into laughs and sighs.
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The voices inside her head its where her demons hide
time is paralyzed and she catches her breath
where there is a flames someone’s bound to get hurt the
blade as the brush with slowly skimming on the canvas
the crimson paint will steadily dribble down the pale canvas
she has a story to her hazy existence and if she is to let her walls come
down, the inside wall be annihilated by shallowness and cruelty
in the past she was isolated so she covered her feelings with a tight
smile, she goes through life aching with eternal agonizing pain
there is no one to have faith in if one shall live on this sadistic earth
no one is there to be her superhero before the hour has come,
before it is too late, the spell must be broken
before it all scatters on the floor; before it goes boom; before
it drains out on the white floor; before the stool is pushed away; before it
thuds in the city lights; before it makes a splash in the navy pool of salt;
before those gray eyes shut completely, exiting the world
just before it is too late
but wait, are those five guys, running towards her? They are quite
unnoticeable, who can they be?
These boys saved her life before the time has come
they are her saviors, they understood the grief
for she is thankful and
they are in her heart, and she is in their hearts, engraved
forever
a.a
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
There was a time in former years—
While my roof-tree was his—
When I should have been distressed by fears
At such a night as this!
I should have murmured anxiously,
‘The prickling rain strikes cold;
His road is bare of hedge or tree,
And he is getting old.’
But now the fitful chimney-roar,
The drone of Thorncombe trees,
The Froom in flood upon the moor,
The mud of Mellstock Leaze,
The candle slanting sooty-wick’d,
The thuds upon the thatch,
The eaves drops on the window flicked,
The clanking garden-hatch,
And what they mean to wayfarers,
I scarcely heed or mind;
He has won that storm-tight roof of hers
Which Earth grants all her kind.
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