"tremoring" poems
As school comes to an end, I decide to
spend the summertime with my instrument.
I read music theory for two hours,
but my hands yearn for the touch of six strings.
Fingers position themselves to stroke bliss.
But my phone’s troubled with recurring rings.
**** it was mom telling me I have class!
I raced for my backpack, and I told her:
I will not slack. Papers grew so lonely
without their folder to cuddle them close.
I couldn’t care to organize them cause
usually, I’d lay in my seat repose.
Ionic bonds? What do they even mean?
And what the heck is “double replacement”?
Okay, I should start paying attention.
I grasp the pen. I notice the tension.
As soon as I write, my hands start to shake.
I start over. Now hands begin to ache.
What in the world is happening to me?
Two words: I scream. Head jerks, and my legs shake.
It has to be a dream. It has to be!
Don’t want to move, but I have to take notes.
Why are random words bursting out my throat?
I’ma be real. I need my mommy!
Class is over. I exclaim to mother:
my fingers refuse to stop tremoring.
And I’m getting these tics. What set it off?
First thing I do is reach for my guitar.
I can’t hold it. I can’t ******* grab it.
Eyes of terror stay written on my face.
The next day I was in a wheelchair.
I cannot look straight- straight up to the sky
or look in front and into people’s eyes.
My right-hand curves to the left. A tendon
sinks into my flesh, and my left fingers
cramp up from being intertwined like vines.
They are stiff. Hideous. These are not mine.
But it does get much better with some time.
I can walk again, talk again, and write.
But all good things come with downfalls, don’t they?
My brain disease will come at me with might.
And I refuse to give up on this fight.
There will be a time when I reach stage five.
And I know it won’t be a pretty sight.
I’m ready for what will happen to me.
Dearest guitar, please know you’re my heaven.
Why bother to fret? Cause’ when the time comes
I’ll see you again in a few seconds.
Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 4:46 PM UTC
The moon lays a long horn,
of light, on the sea.
Tremoring, ecstatic,
the grey-green unicorn.
The sky floats over the wind,
a huge flower of lotus.
(O you, walking alone,
in the last house of night!)
1.7k
Smile so haunting with devilish
or fiendish
or that of charming aesthetics,
the slender creature of a man
parched flesh of paper
would flick his eyes bright
and stir crazy as embers
about the stage,
his hair a mat of threads,
ancient and animalistic,
yet of thick wafting softness,
he appears so gentle,
so timid
child eyes brushed by his bangs
yet confident in that grin
cut so lightly across his face,
he would disarm your distrust,
carry you to his attractive gentleness
as he cloaks the stage about him
and then as the lights dim,
the audience edged on their seats,
your sheepish and sugar laced eyes
of curiosity linger at the heels of his lips,
as he slaughters your precious innocence,
with My words,
smile ever increasing
feasting on their fearful stares
my poem a muffled shotgun
at the back of the audiences head,
their tremoring bodies scream
as he constrains the straps constricting
their legs and limbs,
all the world’s a coroner’s table
he stoops so lovingly over them,
snow white raven of a boy,
his words of glinting blade dive,
their eyes a mess of soupy white and tangled red
surgical increments ripping their ribs and sternum wide,
they scream with blistered skin,
straps beginning to burrow and feast into their limbs,
the boy labors diligently,
effortlessly he worms his fingers about blood drenched organs
twists and plucks them free,
the victim’s body squirming,
skin wriggling,
as their eyes stare and gasp upon
their organs strewn next to them,
shock ripping through them,
crawling within their hollowed out body,
he laps up their gaping wound,
cut and carved from sternum to pelvis,
licking up blood soaked soul and kidney,
my demon of timid grin spills out the final phrases
his victims have long lost resilience,
they watch and lie as a mess of human,
half corpses on the table,
the audience a funeral procession,
the lights suffocated,
no one wishes to speak,
silence is the only reverie to my poems darkness
the boy or man,
demon or fiend
would softly grin
the audience just as cold and dead as him
Sep 22, 2011
Sep 22, 2011 at 12:59 AM UTC
So sensitive we are
Deeply sunk in our love
With it we keep each other afloat
Through this toxic river of life
Even though we both love another
And recognize the depth of our feelings together
We still experience tremoring fear
In the face of the other's other
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 7:59 PM UTC
it gave the impression: sudden aggressive
butterfly booming iridescent fluttering river
rainbow raw god rough glittering eye lids
hot tremoring air. constant blaring.
drown drown lovely staccato cacophony
beat swirling violence electric ***
rains off sudor soaked cotton skinned
burnished bodies ill-lucid contracting
senseless sensual pit decadent children
(in all this sticky love: truth is cleanly executed)
May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 12:31 PM UTC
I've been hunting
In the forest of dreams,
Getting drunk and
Listening to Jefferson Airplane
For the very first time.
It's a night for dreaming I suppose. I've just broken the barriers of love for a man I've known so long that I've nearly forgotten who he is. A piece of furniture in my strange little room.
I'll make a list
Of the things I see here
Apart from his lingering eyes:
A musc stand
A jewelry box
A chair
A dress - Not mine, though it was once
Young girls and their blues
Come to me from the feather in the meadow.
Listen for the ticking of my footsteps.
That's poetry.
God that's poetry.
Why can't I write like that?
It's like looking my enemy in those bright, tremoring eyes
And facing my envy with my ego and my ahmmer
That's beauty.
God she's beautiful.
Why can't I be beautiful like her?
Why can't I appreciate Jefferson Airplane like she does?
I've convinced myself that I hate her for her moral depravity.
For so liberally spreading her character and her legs.
I know I hate her because I hate myself.
And because everyone loves her, not me.
. Ad were I half the human being I portray, none of this would matter.
Understanding is a virtue hard to come by.
You could teach me how to love if you try.
My husband will sleep with his head all buried down and at the foot of his bead.
I'm certain I'll abuse him, emotionally at least
He'll have to be the hardest or softest poor ******* tht ever lived.
I tread on everyone's good emotional graces with my obtinance and determination in being obstinate.
It is, as it always will be, about my happiness.
I'd rather have my country die for me.
Stream of confidence:
Consciousness and the problem with it is that my mind moves faster han my hand can crsft
Door, bell, whistle, heart, ***** therapy, tea, love, mint, ice cream, mother, father, ring, matrimony, and there it ends.
Matters only of the heart.
I'll eventually ***** all of the rest of the things that I haven't wanted to say to anyone anyway.
I feel as though someone is in this room with me
Maybe that's just the distortion pedal talking.
Listen to those drums
Like a heartbeat
Like a war cry
I swear the Earth just moved from beneath my soul.
Once, I bet, I;ve had that kind of primal instinct
A hunter
After his dream game
A drunken huntsman never misses his mark
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 10:40 PM UTC
it is a REGAL RHAPSODY to my EAR
to hear
that you'll be GIVEN SEVEN years
for what you did to me
while you AIM your
prison darts at my face
tremoring with hate
eating POTATO in a TUBE
I'll be YAWNING in an OUTFIELD somewhere
doing YOGA and JUDO in the sun
I, hardly concealing my GLEE
will vacate this
EXECUTIVE state
the commonwealth of massachusetts
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 2:00 PM UTC
To me she is a name and an image,
the moral to my good intentions,
A face to a feeling of my own invention.
She's a lingering lie in the back of my mind.
Fingers and lips stand highlighted
as ghost-like etchings in my abbreviated memory.
Romanticised moments of your hip-bones tremoring
on Winter nights, alone and together in the dark.
Our long lasting days in-doors
played out like "the way things ought to be",
with the most perfect view of the movie
through faded strands of hair
These days, your girls make you up unfamiliar,
Indian ink applied over the original sketch,
the shivering girl brought down to match,
a floating feather dipped in black and
made part of a Hot Topic handbag.
And even now I wonder if the dripping wet girl
with the stiff shutter smile
ever even existed, at least,
the drunken emo kid staggering on the cobbles whispers rumours
she was mown down by telltale scripted kisses and silent exchanges.
So she remains a name and an image,
a memorial for better or worse,
an epitaph that eases the hurt,
the difficult first album of my heart
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 2:00 PM UTC
Somewhere between my subconscious and hypnotized reality
I sleepwalk down the memory lanes
Amidst the darkness of a lost cause
I move in circles searching for something I can't remember
Is it the perfection personified or just my memories of you
A soul so pure and a heart so warm
A beauty so rare and eyes so expressive
A touch so caressing and voice so soothing
A fragrance so sedating and a presense so completing
And in the shimmering lights of your glow
I move my tremoring hands just for a touch
For a belief I would trade my chance to be with thousand angels
That you are real
But it was just a shadow I was touching
You vanish like the ripples in the mirage of uncertainty
And I keep following you in circles till eternity
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
Threads of cotton
corkscrewing
through blankets,
blending flesh
with fabric.
Flicking rain
drops off the
surface
of window
panes,
penciling my
name over
your skin with
my teeth.
Tremoring fingers
tracing your
silhouette,
sensing your
rapture wrapped
in
apprehensive
heart beats,
hanging on the
fibers folding
over our
unstitched
bodies
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
Love me
with
your quivering eyes
crack my perception
dazzle my heart
O
Arabian beauty!
save me
save me
from my restless youth
with napping world
I look at everything
like a utopia
Now
your cute love
twisted
like a knife
rolling hills
sizzling sand dunes
bonding
into an Arabian night
O Jasmine my princess
silken tresses
bonfiring
furious fire
breathe in
keep kissing
don't stop
please show me crying eyes
crush my heart
torment me
give me all your burden
purely control me
no walls
let's try to fly
like a Cinderella love
I am finished with you
torque of love
so high
out of control
loaded gun
just try it
**** me
with your
self-delight
with
your naked eyes
jump off the roof
O jasmine! come back to me
into the heavens abode
and
torture my lies
unhinged me with truth
I don't want to be normal
free me
capture me
give
me
plethora of love
till the night candle burn
tremoring void
with your dew's drop
I sense complete roses,
though you carry
daggers in your heart
like an invisible belonging
mirroring me in a mirror
tired footsteps unreward
crying the burden of emptiness
fragile figure
what a void life
lost expectation
diminished potential
to live without you every day is a boring task
at last
A
shattering mirror
blade smiling
in your beautiful venomous peninsula
I am not in pain O dear!
comfort me with
your sweet
darkness
I have mocked my own path many times
Do you know?
you don't know
now I keep
running
running
running
away from reality
as if
death is incredible
but not as life
biting time
everyday
I wake up
and
going
into the quest
of nowhere
retrospecting
recollections
and a gulp of sorrows
I turned my own look back
ecstasy doesn't last
happiness lost
within a second
without her
and a
whispering
screams
river reverberating
my mind
over and over
life is nothing
I don't mean to her
hoping for the day
I will come out of my depression
without her
there is no one
nothing to me
red nails
long fingers
I said lightly to her
let's dive from sky high
and breathe out
diving from sky high
water is cold
depression kissing
bubbling
stop
...
into the heaven
I am looking at you in the mirror
the reality changed, so was I
like an unhinged wild shadows
a hollow soul
I elope
you remain
like a curious beauty
never identified by those who don't assume
cheers!!!
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 8:11 PM UTC
i.
moon bird,
fire song,
tremoring desire,
dreams of love
soft as a cloud
carrying the grey rain.
ii.
a gorgeous winter sky,
the deeps tattooed
with light,
the sea a soft
shanty waiting
for the summer
breeze.
iii.
sharp breath of air,
lips like soft petals
of rose,
legs loud with longing
carrying love
like a cloud carrying
rain, crazy in love
with your heart
i'm your shiny mistress
all gold like the weak
winter sun.
iv.
i melt with desire,
black rock and
sighing sky,
i ache in your arms
a storm cloud before
the blowsy wind.
v.
iron sea,
breaking waves
in a watery harbour
of light,
kisses and sighs,
slow dance,
loving you
like the blossoming
light, like the
sea sweeping down.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
The ravaging beasts of the folds of south
Once marred, Yaakov, the man out of them.
For his kinnor sang a thousand vibrant sonnets
And the muttering arachnids of the north
Once defied, Ingrid, the woman out of them.
For her visage was a thousand radiant sunsets
In the midst of the luscious green grasslands
Was their bleak prison of grey, still and stale
In that chasm, she was shrouded from the light
In that chasm, he was girdled taut by that light
Amidst their floundering souls, was an iron veil
‘Twas a bleak wall, seeking his absolution from them
I saw him ‘n her, in dreary and stale, weary and pale
But I felt their hands caressing me, the iron veil
Those ravaging beasts, brutishly, gnawed his fingers off him
In envy, those arachnids ravished her joy and youth from her.
The blood-red moon, wept rivers of lamentations, for him
In shame, the blue sun hid himself in light, far... away from her
Thirsting for his marrow, those beasts, foully, scourged him
In vain, those arachnids gnashed their sickening fangs over her
I stood there, as a frigid shoulder to rest on for them
In pain, I urged the skies, “Strike me down!” for them
As Ingrid searched for him, she held on to me
As Yaakov stumbled for her, he leaned on me
In silence, I heard their hearts pacifying the other
In shame, I saw their voice bleeding for the other
In sorrow, I saw their scars salving together
I saw the locks of her hair, yearning his kiss
I saw his weary spirits yearning her warmth
I saw their cinders yearning to become one.
Despite, me, the unfortunate accursed iron veil
I saw her palms drying Yaakov’s tears away
I saw his arms caressing Ingrid’s fears away
Despite, me, the unfortunate accursed iron veil
I saw the brightest light in their teary smile
I saw my prison, be the Eden for their love
The austere bricks in me have finally seen a crack
I see Yaakov’s Ingrid and Ingrid’s Yaakov beside me
Never had the air smelt sweeter in this grassy sea
I now see a waltz after four scores of… lamenting
I now see a solace from the pounding pulse in me
But for my absolution, I pray “Strike me down!”
Strike me down, O agents of the heavens above
Flood me down, O seas of this broken paradise.
Tear me asunder, O lamenting winds of the sky
Have you, all-righteous hosts gone to slumber?
Why do you hide yourself, the all-righteous sun,
When the filth rejoices, the paradise cries pain?
Ah, Daphne, do you see this unsettling… silence?
Despite my cries to unbind us from our torment?
Behind her wrinkled, pale, cold face was that radiant sun
Behind his tremoring strained voice was that sonnet sung
Unchain my heart and free us I implore you, righteous fires.
Unchain their love, even the distant stars heard their sorrow
Let there never be another harrowing and writhing adagio
Let there never be another Yaakov and Ingrid in torment
Let there never be arachnids, muttering in viscous vanity
Let there never be beasts, lusting their blood and marrow
Set me free, let me return to my eternal slumber in solace
Set us free, Strike me down for their love… my absolution
Oct 17, 2020
Oct 17, 2020 at 3:23 AM UTC
The woman, she was the catalyst,
She sat beside me and lured me in,
All concerned nods,
And a single, delectable cookie.
Anyway, it all started
When she asked the fatal question
"Are you all alone dear?"
"All alone in the world,"
I reply, voice tremoring,
"My family, they died
Just over a month ago."
"Oh dear," she
spluttered, clearly
disturbed.
I go on, inventing
blood baths,
poisonings,
diseases,
gruesome ends
that only come to mind
With youth.
After I was neatly done
killing off family members
One by one,
Or three in the case of my
imaginary aunt's
still born triplets,
I sighed.
"It's just so awfully hard.
I don't get very many treats at
my foster parents.
Could I perhaps try a piece
of your cookie?"
"Of course" she replies,
"Here, take it all."
thinking she was helping
another lost soul.
After scarfing it,
(it was delicious, absolutely perfect)
we reached our stop
I thanked her,
the kind, misguided soul,
I stepped off
Into my loving parents embrace.
"Don't you know,
I had the worst trip.
Sat next to this fussy old woman.
I could really use a treat."
So spun the next web.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 10:43 AM UTC
violent You are like a biggest sound
cloyingly honeyed on my mound of massed
and singing chords
(you are a rose most thorned and beautiful
i clutch idiosyncratically
strangled scarlet petals bursting
a foal i;ve nursed with tremoring pits of bold
gangling and accurate stench
violent you're a tedium
a lush and decaying growth
so lightly cancering my cell
and I breath your daily blood and i whimper first glowering fist
my hand to take that penitent shape
and i"ll whisper it
to their chins:
they who art most a mortal folly
as to wade in my
quaking presence
andi
'
;ll
sleeep them quickly rushing rushing
oBliviOn)
Dec 9, 2010
Dec 9, 2010 at 11:00 AM UTC
the broad back mountains of there is some dust of mellow light a failing day
milked and honey dewing the tremoring gardens. i tend them with my
mouth, are they well?and i ask the shop keeper what isle may i find some
cotton tubes. he seems a man slightly shocked ears crinkled in the veneer of youth chipped clean
an man oldly. am i odd here, and outside the lashes of air break on trees
the leaves muttering a basic pleasing sound
the light is angry in stark dress that is up and i see its nakedness on every
item languishing on the shelves. but here and there is some shadows, it
's not new. this place. like the man. it waits for silently some patrons who
might find it amongst the hills. cleanandwaiting. he walks it every day
sifting the echoes with some boots leather creaking. startling the empty
air with his generous presence. generally i walk about and look. and i
found them. "seven.25"
ok
Aug 25, 2010
Aug 25, 2010 at 3:39 PM UTC
You make me think in poetry
The world becomes a rhythm
A cadence
Ticking along to the beat of our
Synchronized hearts
My name is a song
When it comes from your
Tremoring lips
Every silence is full
Of comfortable emptiness
Nothing is ever void
When I'm tangled in you
I'm drunk off your
Presence
My head spins when you
Trace constellations
Across my collarbones
You play me like a piano
Touch my body like keys
And control every
Shaking breath
The world is a wonderful place
But it is poetry when I'm
With you
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:33 AM UTC
make for me a glimmering speck
in the folds of scarlet chambers bruised beating
capillaries splitting puddles of purple
writ on its sleeves; i it seems (and strangely iam)
oddly are. more different is the cool love of sun
for earth. his wife. whom he does pleasure every day
a tongue of infinite light wrapping her every
curve and sin. s
o
to is this how i shall love your delicate mechanism, every cog
placed lovingly in balance to bound deftly upon my eyes inall
your correctness; you piece of lightening affront death with
the majesty of tremoring ******* hot tingling fuzz shocking
my fingers: you are neatly piled blooms of ancient fruit
who doth etherise my sanity with the pushings of your sinew
Aug 18, 2010
Aug 18, 2010 at 2:49 PM UTC
you weren't doing well already. your skin was falling from your face in yellow-skinned sunken smiles and faint snores that used to roar as you napped. my tears were hidden behind my computer screen when i saw you lay down to rest. always scared it would turn worse.
and a year ago today, it did.
i was in biology and the boys in ihs when i got the text. i never expected it would be me. i never thought i would have the 'expected call' sort of life. it was the speed walk from biology that i remember. the people passing me who i had to ignore. the sob i tried to soften. the lump that made it impossible to smile or speak or recognize anything except for my siblings and the sun outside. of course it was sunny outside. of course nothing in this world led me to believe today could be a bad day.
and a year after that, it was the same.
i couldn't stop the tears from coming. back then i was emotional in different ways. the heart i never imagined to be broken i wore on my sleeve. the smile that dressed my face was sincere everytime i met eyes with a stranger. i was excited about things i didn't know, and my sadness was consistenly superficial. so the tears came quickly, easily, as if i was surprised by the news as i hid them behind our bronze suburban.
and a year ago today, i had been.
it was the uncertainty of the situation that had me breaking. it was the fact i had no knowledge of what was going to happen. it was the idea that the only moments we had had together had been paper thin hands holding mine and music that spoke to our souls at the twilight hour. i did not want to be there, as much as i felt i should. but the night time drive and frozen cookie dough calmed my tremoring hands.
and a year after that, they do the same.
a year ago today i lost some hope. i felt a dynamic shift in the way of our house. where eight o'clock pm the door would open with a flurry of excitement and dog nails scraping over our hardwood floors there was silence. a cold and sad emptiness to the home that had created the childish laughter stored in me.
and a year ago today, it is the same.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 12:09 AM UTC