"truancy" poems
i tried to stay true to the unity
tuned to every opportunity
i found my ruins in the mutiny
loose stone of the community
such a crude and brutal fluency
the futile fruits of lunacy
the pulled roots of my truancy
grew away from my community
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC
Truancy is a ***** with ***** stamps and skunky hair
her constant need to blow smoke up the ***** of those trying to try
is inconvenient at best, irresponsible at worst,
maybe amusing in the eyes of the elders.
Been there, done that
she rolls her eyes and pouts
slits her wrists with carnival glass
so she bleeds the multi-dimensional colors imperceivable to human eyes,
an entirely different color spectrum,
ultraviolet, super violent,
tasty and warm.
This young lady is no lady at all
just a little girl,
vulnerable and scared
and a total ****** *****
grabbing her ankles and thumping in dumpsters,
pretty little thing,
with scabs and gin
and cute little *** stains.
Leave her be,
this street walking angel
she never learned her lesson,
too swag for education.
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 10:20 PM UTC
shakin like a bacon eater
takin down a bird feeder
cedar creatures rollin up a doobie
they be suing me for truancy
I shoo a flea from chewin me
a wrap of lettuce fed us
said us fellas sellin head amounts of coke
we oughtta **** a bowl of hope
my soap and rope fill up my closet
I deposit positively. Stop to mop it
cropping photos,potting soil,oil spotting
wrapping lettuce wraps and leftovers in foil
I'm American and spoiled
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 1:05 AM UTC
You leave me stranded like years made up of moments and vacuum hickeys and Asian milk toast mean nothing.
Train tracks remain on my timeline like a seam opening the spine of an old diary with nothing written over and over inside.
You say we will be playing scrabble on the floor of your living room someday when we are old, just as your mother does next to us with her friends listening to Adele as we plot out our lives together on a collage atop your dining room table.
You hurt me
We are dinosaurs
Strutting for the fist time in glory down seventh avenue as people wonder who we are and we think of fun to be had with friends to be met.
Park slope spread out before us paved yellow with fly paper.
Holding my heart in your hands as it is broken for the first time, i cry but know you will be there to turn those tears to glue for our friendship until you are not.
Years made up of your boyfriends that come and go and come and go and I miss you. And I want to strut down seventh avenue with you by my side feeling powerful and new again.
I want to feel fresh running down a beach of asphalt and trash; the whole world ahead gilded with possibility, and eternity resting gently on the horizon of city smoke and traffic lights. And I feel old now. But I suppose we always did.
I miss you
I still remember **** bought from boys with blonde hair and loving blue eyes hidden in camera cases, and smoked under thick trees that kept us safe from the turning of the earth. Elevators lifting us up to the 35th floor ticking like time bombs on days occupied by truth or dare marked red upon truancy calendars our parents would never find.
Why did you get so old? mature. I remember once together we vowed to remain silly and young and do all we could to smother the sound of the ticking clock removing our innocence, silencing our songs, and slowly turning us into those who we were made by.
My sister is grown. Where are you now?
Beautiful the world looked from a Brooklyn balcony at 16, the skyline smiles with the mirage of possibility and smirks with a wicked knowledge of things to come and years to pass. Would I go back to that balcony now, and stay there with you forever.
If I needed you would you come
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
My mother only had one son
But it ain’t enough
I’ve paid all my dues
It ain’t enough
Oh no
Rolling on to ruin
Gluing quarters to the roof
Make a dollar, it’s the rule
Used as a man, seen as a boy
This is all
Am I moving too slowly?
Does anything move?
Roaming over love until noon
Rapid rivers look brand new
Licking scabbed wounds
Overlook my truancy
As if you’ve never known
Looking for nonexistent proof
Looking over cratered moons
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC
you on my mind,
its been a while....
And i need to put my mind at ease
see all these thoughts
have been haunting me of recently
i need back that peace in me
my tranquility
my heart beats poetry
slow "paynefull" melody
looking at inspiration
on the pages of imaginaion.
see there was time it was just you and me.
your smile seemed
you laugh seemed
it all seemed you but not me
your heart took truancy
but life was schooling he
not the you but the he coz it changed from we internally
to he separately
he grew
could it be negatively
coz his heart was his
locked in a steel cage
she blossomed
Pride severed ties
All the hurt and lies.
Years passed
Random encounters
Like mountain showers
He found himself.
She lost her way.
A story a thousand times told
Reality wasnt really what reality was
If u journeyed into her heart she knew that all he could see
Was the wrong she did' nd broken promises
So late at night she dreamted of him.
Hoping the years had soothed the melody
He had found the wrong in him
So he did his best to be a better person
For god.
for him
For his family
For the person he hoped to meet.
For peace. . . . . . . . .
Sep 15, 2009
Sep 15, 2009 at 5:24 PM UTC
Dining on copious amounts of serotonin
Dopamine fiend
I get called a terrible teen
Lack of melotonin
Sleepless dreams
Of seizing opportunities
But I don't participate in life; truancy
I guess I'm nothing more than another one of heroin's machines
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
paris...
no american in sight, or how i just see utopia...
songs on the steps of sacré-cœur, kissing
an american girl, then cheese and wine
next to the Eiffel tower, laughing, joking, trailing
and tailing off with talk of nabokov,
the nightclub scene with ping-pong ecstasy dances,
youth, youth, youth,
of youth that congregated once in those places,
parisian girls congregating for a game french hushes
with the chinese whispers and anglo comic charades
learned from the conquering normans...
paris back then, what wouldn't i have given for it,
but i learned of starving north,
where lecture upon lecture repeated david hume,
and i said:
it's the 21st century after all!
make edinburgh the new paris!
oh paris, but paris stay intact,
with the eiffel tower in my palm,
where all love met no love
but love met love all the more fictive,
written with a million reincarnations
that once told a tale of warring fractions known
as factions,
and it was told so: paris of my past where
i walked the streets with the compass height
ordaining coordinates that the tower was
to thus learn:
in times of panicky sentencing est mort,
people congregate in hawkish gaze
at monuments of their bone and marrow
turned into cement and irons of scaffold,
and there they congregate to ogle a new hope
when encouraged by a new fascination
of those that are less amazed by the phonetic
simplicity of animals than those who keep them.
oh paris, how i too wished things would have
remained a truer you begging truancy
from international press coverage,
how that one summer i became embedded
in taking to sleep on rock that felt like
woollen napkins filled with duck quills.
and in the memoriam altar two boys played
this song: as entombed by the title.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC
I accost daylight, reviling in the promiscuity of the waken world
Come, be absent with me, enjoy the splendor of the famine
The only pleasure we’ll allow ourselves is that of a despondent heart
As we weaken the bonds that chain us, we’ll destroy ourselves
How can I rationalize my desires, their innocence shames me
To be reprehensible, oh such a glorious way to be
We ran through the streets encased in neon luminance
You, with your hope and rebellion
Me, in awe of you
This truancy, this desolate homage to backroads and swindled affairs
It leaves a longing to wear her fur coat, my makeup soiled beautifully
Those nights of dreams, and dreams, and dreams, resurrect disenchanted
As I lay aching, biting the the cold steel for the knowledge of ones price
The nullity welcomes a confusion, searching for a fragment of familiarity
Wanting and wishing back the stale taste of the endless mornings
I’ll bring with me the calm, the reassurance of futile worth
The length is calculated, the smirking clock relishing in his dismal pace
We trade the dampened moss as the stars scoff at our ignorance
They whisper, piercing the darkness with their reminder
three moons, alas three moons
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 5:46 PM UTC
Little, red, and a bit of a ****
The truancy officer visited grandma's hut,
Red has been fondling with the wood cutters wood,
And lost it, so she cut it off, as best she could.
She's now got a taste for it, her and the wolf,
So she lures all the young girls,and feeds them vermouth,
Then , when under the influence, they feel a bit woosie,
She'll cut off their heads, and eat their, ahem, excuse me!.
So don't go into the woods from now on,
Because Red and her Wolf are waiting til dawn,
With their axe that she stole from the wood cutter,
And, mr.Wolfman, with claws and teeth, hatching a plan!
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 5:30 AM UTC
Stone me on your Altar of Lies.
I am not scattered light upon the stair!
You're all stuffed mouths and hollow eyes,
Spun from whole cloth but left bare.
The ****** never stirred, but only watched me leave.
Where's the Watchmaker for his Meek?
Tell me, where's the freedom in your Mustard Seed?
How can this be the Love we're meant to seek?
*I am no Lamb!
I won't have your Love!
I couldn't give a ****
and you, sir, are no Dove!*
All seen equal, except those You exclude.
Let's not tout the best of us?!
I can see the cunning, you are shrewd.
But that still just leaves the rest of us.
'Cause what're we but broken people?
Empty lives and Original Sin!
Gird your ***** Guard your Steeple!
This is a club I won't belong in.
*Don't you preach to me
with ***** ******* hands
Holy love and His truancy.
You issue His commands.*
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 10:29 AM UTC
I haven't really laughed since 2009
He said,
He then divulged his struggles
As I did mine
We spoke of the mutual regret about not keeping in touch
But with conflicting schedules, relocations and studies
It is comprehensible we veered in opposite directions and lost contact
My estranged bestfriend
We reminiscenced about the time when we were school kids
In stiff shirts, massive floppy hats
And giant blazers we practically drowned in
How eager we were to go home
When the siren went off at 3:05pm
The shanenigans at the pavilion
In sixth form
When we were the lords of the academy
A strong grip on my giant mug as if it were the holy grail
Stirring my something that ends with cinno
Huddled in the corner of a cozy eatery
In his company once again
it felt as though I had arrived home where fire burns incessantly in the fire place
On a winter's night
With a soft blanket over my shoulders
We laughed about my truancy
And how he got kicked out of the ruby team on account of his rather lanky physique
He imitated our biology teacher and tears flowed down my cheeks
That kind of laughter
You feel in your core
And your whole body shakes
So captivated by the various discussions
We both forgot to sip on our steaming beverages
He narrated a few short stories about the events
that have taken place since we last conversed
I in turn narrated mine or lack thereof
He emphatically tilted his head to the side
God, I had missed those gestures of his
It all came flooding back
His mannerisms
The way he moves his hands when he speaks as if he is trying to literally hold the conversation
For what seemed like a lifetime Before saying goodbye
Dead-eyed
We stared into each other's eyes
Almost as if to telepathically say
Do you remember the time
When we were so alive.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 1:15 PM UTC
My love,
my sweet delirium,
my dopamine flower,
my nocturnal obsession,
my daylight thought procession,
how do I bare a split second of your truancy?
Your hair, your skin, your eyes, your spike heels, your leggy fluency,
are but a little tittle tally of your unnerving inventory :-)
Dec 29, 2010
Dec 29, 2010 at 6:47 PM UTC
She was the epoch of beauty;
As her silken hair cascaded,
Over the slender form of her shoulders
She was the epitome of purity;
As her gentle whispers dispersed,
The darkness from within his soul
She was the personification of heaven;
As her endless love entwined both,
Drawing them blissfully ever-skyward
She was the relief of weightlessness;
As her soul helped bear his grief,
The burden of sorrowed life extinguished
She was the extremity of destruction;
As she drifted from his presence,
The truancy leaving his soul condemned
She was the essence of life;
As he felt it drift from reach,
Her auburn eyes, fading from memory.
She was.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
Ms. Reznikova
Won't you come over
I'd like to show ya
A thing or two
You won't find in an English book.
Marking coursework's got you bogged down
Let's me and you paint the town
Take a night off
Play truancy with me
Ms. Come on over, I'll cook.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
I have a wound which
the eye cannot see.
Making riddles out of the obvious.
My heart yet not comprehend,
the impervious mischief of brokenness.
A splash of ennui amidst
the savoring intellect.
Listlessness and apathy
endures mortality.
My heart grew fond
of my own enmity.
Bitterness is truancy
that rivals denouement.
Oh my sweet lacksey-daisy heart,
where do I go from here?
Round and round in the roundabout.
River I kept swimming
head over heels.
I'm thinking of a thought
that I don't understand.
As soon as I admit
I'm alive, I am dead.
They say when you're lonely,
you think too deeply.
Maybe, but I don't care.
Should I go swimming?
Or should I be drowning?
I don't know the difference anymore.
White is black, black is white.
But there is no gray.
Oh my sweet lacksey-daisy heart,
do you believe me?
I don't care.
They say good things about me.
But what does it mean
to look beyond me?
I'm already in the middle,
right before I even started.
iamthe_avatar ©2017
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC
shed your gritty conflicts
brittle pain seeping in between the fragments
of your most important bones
give me your limbs
I will give you my movement
I will lay here numb
just to watch you dance
and see that bitterness leave
your ample solitude
burden laying in deep pits of hungry
monsters, moving through the desert
shattering the broken jawline
of everyday
truancy in lovers
anecdotes
telling small stories
with significant morals
branched off into the sun
by the greater worlds that
exsist within us
the first number
does not exsist here anymore
Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 8:10 AM UTC
.
*Sat there
and stroked her hand
while she slept.
And as I traced each wrinkle,
upon every knuckle,
each told me stories.
Stories of my growing up,
that I knew,
which I’d long forgotten.
They reminded me
of my childhood mischief,
truancy and nonchalance.
They spoke to me of wilfulness.
They struck me
with shame of the audacity
and the occasional disrespect.
But I’m no longer pursuing
childish fantasies.
And I no longer see
through adolescent eyes.
So as she laid there fast asleep,
I hoped hopelessly and silently,
for her to read my thoughts
and feel my love…
While I stroked her hand
and wept.*
.
Aug 2, 2023
Aug 2, 2023 at 9:40 AM UTC
Lack of balance.
The scales are tipped,
but to who's favor,
I cannot tell.
The energy and love I put out
has been matched by you
for the better part of six years.
Six years is a long time for any sort of relationship,
but more so for the likes of ours.
After six years the energy and love I put out
are not being matched by you.
It started off gradually
but i was too ****** up to notice.
Too many drugs and drinks
will do that.
But after a word from you,
and help from a friend,
and a few failed attempts
I kicked the monkey off my back.
I banished the demon OPIATES,
can you say the same of your demon.
And then I noticed.
Like a teacher looking up from his computer,
I noticed you were truant.
And i asked you about it,
I confronted you about it
and you said,
yes, I have grown distant, but I'm going to fix that.
And oh god, I've tried and i've tried and i've tried to fix it
but you are unwillingly to put forth any effort
and so I give up.
I want to give up,
I want to be happy about new friends
and sobriety
and that girl you told me was too good for me that I've been talking to.
I want to be happy about these things
but I can't
because the last thing I think about before I fall asleep is you
and the first thing I think about when I wake up is you
and god **** it, I am ******* terrified of losing you
and you don't care.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
Feed me! Feed me! Winter is here to stay and Believe me when I say it’s an icy cruel cold World out there no matter how giving Mother may seem. Still a barren boring desert out there, so collect what you can my fond familiar Enemy. Disguised as my only friend. Fetch fodder for the Pigs because we are starving—it’s going to be a slaughterhouse. scrambling, sweating, searching for anything I can find from the Fruits of Compromised concrete wastelands. Collect what you can. Look to the tree trunk Tops and climb and climb, and you will see colors. brilliant oranges, bleeding reds, burning yellow light shining onto the Last of what tree trunk Tops are reluctant to remain. Wildfires. Supreme ruler, I bow down, “May I kiss You? May I kiss You just this last one time and I swear I will go”. I have kissed God, and there is nothing more boundless than a kiss from God. Prisoner! Take the prisoner away! He is ****** to Eternity for his Temptation, truancy, and treason that has been committed against his own flesh and soul. regrettable Temptation, malicious self-harm—it’s going to be a slaughterhouse. Although this is the history of the world, and for all of existence we have come crying onto this Earth hungry like lions.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
She is sitting under her mango tree.
An empty plate and a half-finished cup of tea.
Her hazy sight gazed on the wall while a flock of flies ravage on the wet spot of spilt tea.
I extend my hand for a formal greeting but my presence is absent in her wondering mind.
"Hello granny"
My hand shakes her fragile body while her muscles quake like a shaked *** of half cooked sadza.
" ooh muzukuru Phidza!"
She responds in an almost dried up voice.
I smile though I know that is my brother's name.
She has been forgetting things and now my name is one of them.
"Your mother is right behind you isn't she?"
She asks the usual question.
"No granny but she will be home for Christmas."
I give her the same answer as on yesterday's visit.
Her offsprings had flown to the diaspora for greener pastures.
Leaving her under the custody of maids with neither any of her blood nor seed around.
"The baobab is falling, worms are devouring it from within." She whispers.
I clinch my hands around her in an emotional hug.
These were the hands that spanked me for taking my pants for the bathroom.
And a soft kiss on the fore head reminding me for all that beating for truancy.
So I smile as I am getting lost in the dense forest of my childhood episodes.
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 12:28 AM UTC
Undetermined destinies, and motivated double legacies, line the keg-obsessed university.
You’re sure to see some truancy where independence failed the student miserably, but lessons learned outside of class bring just as much intelligence.
New smiles and new eyes, lighting up the dorm room night. Restless minds cry and whine as bedtimes arise. But wait some time and the sun will rise like ocean tides as earths demise comes quicker with our fetal minds
still optimism rests in our bullet proof chests
our hearts detest that inspirations worth much more than all the checks, and accepting to digress means you’re accepting to be less. So ignore regret and reward ascent, and the world will live with good intent.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
To the boy who's more fine than any truancy ticket I ever received back then~
(I know, my puns are great, I'll be here all night, thank you.)
I called you perfection,
And you said I am life,
You've always been my best friend,
Hardly a hint of strife,
Through heaven and hell we've traveled,
Along with Earth, space, and time,
I love hearing your two cents,
And you're such a dime ;),
One day our only distance,
Will be showering alone,
But for now your face lives,
In the screen of my phone,
The past five years has been crazy,
That I won't deny,
But I've always found home in a boy,
Who loves vanilla chai,
We were so bad when we were kids,
Skipping and smoking in your mom's garage,
But I've always loved being,
A two man entourage,
If there's anyone I was meant to do life with,
In this big, weird world full of fuss,
It was the boy who shouted "YOUR MOM!",
In my face, on the bus,
Sometimes I'm still shocked,
That we're both now adults,
But this whole time you've loved me,
Despite all my faults,
I called you perfection,
And you said I am life,
I'll be ****** if one day,
I'm not your wife.
❤️
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 5:15 PM UTC
/ rivers pulse this house as if activity, predictable.
leave this body just like that.
and heave the emptiness from the thrum
of the streets just like that
the stars delineate an axis tilted by my means
to live under frail coruscations.
take this house, take the rivers
with you, all the more my body
anything other than my blunder.
take even, these tiny and immediate currents
as i hear this is how it is to be delivered from
grace and expanse.
you are what this truancy is trying to undo
as you were by mine before -- this is how
it feels to be moved and sidled again and again
this river that you carry me across and left with details none can supply. there
is resolve in this, even when I am taken aback,
which certain things are left crossed and wronged,
and how you keep the place guarded, possessed
by light -- how it wholly hurts, this invented
life all mine /
1
What is to break if not another word for
impossibility, or another phrase as palliative
for suffering each other
2
What is so sure of it to arrive
in the densest minute, say when if already
out of sight, I implore you to
unlearn my body
3
This and the deep and hollow end of it.
Visage voyeurs as if the past is just next door
sleeping with my woman, laughs and then cuts
open to free itself from a slammed door
and mosey on.
4
As statement to refute my coming into,
I am already accomplished. Turn this day opaque.
Lens to the world my found
imperative of what was given, a knife
to stalk a heart so difficult as if known to me
as a path home, or unearthed bus tickets
from Longos to Tabang. Say when it rains,
forgive me. I remember still.
5
To believe in touch and its memory is
obligation. The way I see this, a palimpsest.
I attempt to discover something, witnessing myself
pass mirrors, body found as if rivers do drift
me to the brink of a high noon wishing
to swing downstream the words I have
no use for, if not documents of haloed hours.
6
I passed by your house.
Silence annuls azure skies.
Balustrades gone. They took everything down
evenly to the last inch of paint,
balmy this oblivion only for me, catatonic is this
peace as my hands lift a piece of the soul
to shred. The day burns like a forest in my hand.
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 8:18 PM UTC
your songs are like dead weight
and living weight. a heavy truancy
that is always late
but never on time for completely gone.
you're always here. belonging to me
and never there.
a curl in the straight line
that leads to soft stones
and marsh.
you test my honest bravery.
you have lungs enough for jubilation
but your theories wane
as I wander... and we suffer the airless bliss
of a toy in the hands of a maker.
we break our spines to build
false houses on mole hills.
and there we manage
the serpentine
to crush the very dreams
we haven't.
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 12:11 AM UTC