"tinglings" poems
Lovely mornings, evenings, nights our hearts took flight
Laughing ceased as sighs increased.
Wafts of sensual sweet smells rose.
Bodies, curved in writhing poses glowed.
Cares lost in arousing touch, lingering fingers longed for
Secrets, shared in sacred sighs and wanton lies.
Arching union quivered and quaked.
I whispered then and will again
Stilettos are not made for walking,
Their soul purpose, freeing our rising desires,
Feeding rapturous tinglings of sensual ecstasy.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
Strawberries
*that tumble off grocery stands
of dusty wood-colored plastic
wiped clean with rank rags dripping ***** water
and a hint of bleach
to **** germs.*
Covered in dripping red
*gooey sweet syrup
that resembles sour sauce
of lo mein Chinese restaurants,
but encapsulates all feelings
to nerve tinglings
and lick chops to swallow drowned.*
Atop a table
*tuckered in the corner
next to borrowed chairs
that mismatch from three to one
and darkened grain and pale wheat
with a broken leg
that will one day topple to the floor.*
Retching from inhalation
*as breath stops short
lungs rejecting air
from the path of recycle-ment
like tossing used paper bowls
into foundations for isla de debris.*
Enlightenment of the general mood
*from stumbled laughter
into an inception loop
of spinning tops and trading card games
into a never ending bubble stream
like a train braking
and go to rest.*
Dead like a corpse
*as in sleep like the departed
where nothing can be bothered
except the alarm for tomorrow.*
Because I am scared,
for the shadow of despair,
that will rise as a lion's roar,
to claim the title "king,"
and rain down sorrow,
before the lamed warrior can raise a piece,
or a scholar a pipe,
to ward away evil,
and purify with ceremonious smoke.
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 1:57 AM UTC
There are too many times where I’ve destroyed my body
In order to destroy my thoughts.
Too many times where I’ve added hard problems to my long term life
Just to subtract myself from the quick moment.
I’m talking about drug, alcohol, and cigarette usage.
I’m talking about those days where I want my mind to stop working so badly
That I personally picked a poison to start destroying it.
I’m talking about those times where I hated my reality so much
I swallowed down a pill in hopes that it would distort it
Momma told me that smoking kills
So I bought a carton of cigarettes to test if she really does speak truth or lies
No matter what substance I turn to life will always get more ruthless
Satan is always five steps ahead me
Whenever I even glimpse at the road to recovery
In order to find that slight view of happy
I pop another pill in hopes that this time the effects will last
I pop it in hopes that I never have to pop in another one again
I pop it knowing in the back of my head
This could be my destruction
Codeine is not known for curing mental illnesses
Yet I’ve convinced myself that it’s my only prescription.
And I drink until I can’t feel even the slightest of tinglings
Make sure to take my medicines with a hard shot of whiskey.
Because the longest suicide attempt takes form in addictions.
It takes the form of needles and unmarked orange containers;
It floats around in the smoke that your lungs bathe in;
And it fills up the empty liquors bottles that you keep on leaving.
You don’t have to cut up your body in order to **** it
All you have to do is poison the **** out of it
A cigarette a day keeps the your sanity at bay
Another liquor bottle meeting your lips helps get you closer to the apocalypse
The more you snort up your nose helps your body decompose
We don’t pop bullets in our heads
We pop pills into our immune systems
We somehow thought that a long, painful death
Was more appealing than a quick
We aren’t exploding our brains
We are slowly murdering them
Tiptoeing into the inside
And taking the nerves out one shot at a time.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 12:30 AM UTC
Sitting on my own but not necessarily alone
My mind roams and eats me down to blood and bones.
With eyes watery and wet though no tears have fallen yet
I set my jaw against the first tinglings of regret.
If I am hurting it will fade, without assistance from a blade
Box the guilt carefully away and place it back from where it came.
If I am unsteady I will find balance without a plea
And rely on no one but myself to help right me.
Sitting with memories and regrets and possibilities
Sitting with the jealousy and shame and the whole of me.
Making temporary peace with the little things if only to sleep
In full awareness that they still creep where my thoughts run deep.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 1:19 AM UTC
Feelings in the shadow
Don't look down
There's an empty between what you may see
Darkness prevails so I'm blinded
But not from the tinglings you may feel
I'd go numb to forget
But nah, I love the feeling
But the feelings are intertwined with darkness
The shadows may be an illusion
What to do, I'm burnt
Between a mountain to conquer
But when conquered do the fallen rise again?
Do they feel within the shadows?
I'll just shine the light from my heart
Give thy life in my breath
To bring me back to life
To feel again what the butterflies once showed me
I'll embrace rather than shy away
In a land far far away
Happily eve after way, I'll tread
Atlast, I can see
I can see the light at the tunnel
Through your eyes
Through your heart
Your soul
Through your every touch..
Oct 3, 2019
Oct 3, 2019 at 6:50 PM UTC