"tussling" poems
Towns are shimmering,
gleaming like Christmas lights,
illuminating the midnight sky.
Kerosene and oxygen, Congratulations
for an excellent performance
on the roofs, windows and walls.
Parties were thrown to celebrate life
by destroying everything that was venerable.
Tussling with each other
on whose new growth to enforce.
It was then, when **** hit the fan
that the people finally gave a ****
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 2:36 AM UTC
*Though, should I
or have I begun?*
To feel the tussling
Of blurring bodies.
Transforming and dancing,
Through these very halls.
Where aching is thick,
and a embrace is a release.
*Should I begin?
How should I begin?*
Swallow the dagger,
stabbing from behind.
Let it sit deep in my stomach.
Push it further, where it can’t cut.
*Where will it end?
How will I begin?*
Under lock and key,
Just where I left it .
It escapes as it did just now,
conjuring a puncture to bone.
Blood flows,
Rushes out into the world.
*Is this a release?
How can I heal?*
Pouring out,
It tastes salty on the cheek
The color is dark,
cold to the touch.
Purging the night,
that stained blood black.
Sifting the chill,
of steel from bone.
Ringing out whats left of gore and fluid,
down the drain.
*I can begin now.
This is the end.*
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 11:13 AM UTC
Addiction's innocent cousin ***** needling into my veins
infected me seasons ago
the ache I once felt still strong as mast's girth
From wind to wind sea to sea we internally roamed
in my mind the map was a treasure trove for exploration
i never was bound to lake shore
wind whipping tide tussling rousing mornings and dusky
nights
My mistresses my pleasure gliding goddess
drift lazily and let me sing praise with shouts "Boom"
but coy or not I coil spry
aged not with time
but lessons learned
The youngest have yet to grow
knowledge of the mystery fables tell
of beautiful passings
Land's unreachable without proper direction
rudderless a hair's breadth magnified out of reach
cool autumn leaves fall on my skiff
She tugs at my heart and at your golden hemp locks
they have all my love stolen from your deck your bow
your stern your timber your core
but let us sail evermore
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
It was a night of music softly playing, listlessly upon the bed I was laying,
Lying awake with toss and turns without subtle hints of a snore…
And whilst this time my eyes did wander, avoiding the lids they should be under,
Suddenly as I was under, under the spell of consciousness I could not ignore…
“No, this cannot be,” I whispered, “this insomnia I cannot ignore;
Awake I lied, sleeping never more.
The clock soon read the 30th minute of two, and it was now that I knew
As I stares bleakly to the scuffled patterns of my feet on the carpet floor,
I tried to rise up from bed in hopes to gain; fatigue made that attempt in vain.
My eyes wrought forth tears from burning pain, the nightly air made them sore…
The darkness of the night air now silent but dry has left them burning sore,
Craving the sleep that comes never more.
My blanket held the rustling of my body so violently tussling
In anger—such anger that the blanket had suddenly tore;
And so now I laid there, with fluff of stuffing my blanket was ‘bleeding’,
“I fear that this must be the sleep I’ll crave, yet ignore,
For it seems odd this craving my body would so deviously ignore."
Still awake I lied, craving sleep ever more.
Restless I turned to my side, when then my eyes grew joyously wide,
“I had forgotten,” said I. “Cure for restless sleep, this bottle does implore";
Unfortunately, I took some previously- the limit to such an aid is a pity,
And the clock had struck three, three hours I am forced to ignore,
"Oh, the sleep that I needed…” I mourned softly on the time I had to ignore.
“I want sleep and nothing more!”
All the time I laid staring, the darkness faded, the sun now glaring;
Forcing a retreat of the darkness covering the scuffled patterns on the carpet floor.
A dawn’s glow shined with brilliance, against my eyes so red and resilient,
The sleep, once again a night of rest I craved for my body, so weary and sore,
For the sake of my eyesight now the sun’s gleam had made ever so sore
“Sigh, ‘tis another fortnight I sleep never more.”
© 2011
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
Blank canvases that inhale and exhale
with motives to live.
That's all we are
painted by Biology
a gamble in the darkness of who wins the lottery of appeal.
Sometimes we are created
using the best paint brushes
a stunning color palette
other times we are thrown together
extemporaneous products of failure
slapped on with crippled fingers
that lack inspiration
deprived of just the right shade of beauty.
I am a sculpture of proof
a hurried project
nose recklessly placed on the center of my face
cheeks not rosy enough in the frigid winter
disadvantaged with an artist who must have mistaken pink for blue.
My body is an accident
worn with tears after erasing and retracing
time and time again.
My past is scattered with ugly ripe bruises
maybe from tussling too roughly with life.
My soul
is the only thing
that is not of Biology's creation.
Soul is something I have dug deep into
with two frantic hands
before pulling out a heart beating gold
swollen with optimism
warm with love
spilling with kindness
stronger than beauty.
I am perfect
because my soul
is louder than my body.
I am beautiful
because never mind Biology's snide remarks
I am flawless
because despite my luck
I am a work of art.
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
Trials and Tribulations.
Miles and Hesitations got me struggling and tussling to hold on to you.
It's like I have to convince you that love is worth fighting for and money is nothing but dead gluttonous men that we can spend or save. Let's not spend but save up to get up and out. I want up and out of this town full of memories of you but lacking the subject of my subjected poetry.
Our future can be picturesque. We are just being put to the test cuz God has a plan for me and you. We have been tried and turned out true.
Sad and blue your eyes weep while I smile faintly in the distant memory of your cerebral time capsule. Time is moving Slow Slow Slowly down the river banks and ports of seas that part us with waves and waves of salt and Poison.
Water got me feeling heavy so I break down the levy with my sonnets and rhymes, trying to plead for time to speed up so we can grow up and get out. Grow up and bust out to any place with a name that is far from that which we came, where nothing is the same and we can just be together in the metaphors of a summer's breeze.
I'll put your mind at ease with the calming flow of poetry and the strum strum humming of my guitar as I lull you to sleep and watch your face so serene and at peace. And I kiss your soft lips goodnight as i hang up our phone call and place my head adjacent to my pillow and meet you in my dreams.
Apr 18, 2010
Apr 18, 2010 at 3:35 PM UTC
If I could send you a song
I'd send you the rain
Because hunny I'm pouring my heart out
The thunder rolling gently in the distance is me whispering your name
And the gentle shower like kisses on your face
My passion is a storm
Cause I'm sending you
The brazen caress of strong winds and strong hands
The crack of hot white lightning up your spine
As I touch you where you like
Every drop sliding down your skin my kiss
The thunder booms out my desire
As the howling wind tussling your hair gives away our pleasure
Do you feel me there?
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 5:59 PM UTC
Your lips, soft like clouds
Melt into my own
Despite the contact
I want to be closer
There's hunger in this
The craving runs deep
Together we are electricity
With energy born in a simple stare
We move like the ocean
In currents and waves
A secret choreography
Only our bodies know
Teasing and tussling
My teeth close on your skin
Painting you purple and red
I leave imprints of me all over you
To remind you that you're mine
The marks are emotions personified
I want you to know how I feel
I like you and I love your company
And a week always feels too long
I could drown in the depths of your eyes
They're mysterious and blue like the sea
Our souls meet in these moments
As I am entirely entranced by you
I want to hold you close
And I want to keep you safe
I want to hear your hurts
As well as all your dreams
I am grateful to be in your life
And that you're a part of mine
Nov 25, 2021
Nov 25, 2021 at 3:15 AM UTC
*O a perfume of invite kissed her skin!
Vigorously invoking a need for his touch,
Parched tongue now flowed over her naked self,
Circling her navel, tussling with her braided hair.
Torn hems of fabrics gashed her,
To only ooze a teasing drop of red,
Which so selflessly satisfied his ravishing thirst.
In tandem with the waves of her hair,
Did his moans waver and shimmy,
To only tinge and fire with virile.
A silence slowly arrived with the dawn,
Witnessing a wilderness around the mute sheets,
While the night portrayed a naughty smile.*
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 7:26 AM UTC
Stood lonesome beneath the old floodlight
Sweetest embrace, the Gods shone down
Forging great dramas in steel slabs
and returning home with a picture of Hollywood
I, sad-eyed fool, asked after you, and heard nothing
Though, in Benzedrine dreams I was gifted your scent
and awoke to the stench of ********** ***** and the powder dissolved
Ah, I have heard your voice
Yet you ignore mine
The great whale twisted in the alley, with biceps bulging
and tussling with hoodlums we were sent packing,
Awaiting us were the sterile walls of some grande hospital
Lined with officers, their pads and pens at the ready
Beds spinning, squinting under neon, docile
and confused
Bars and bars, from one t' other, flicking roaches into the gutter as we went
and howling at the harlots stood 'neath street lights, flickering
Poisoned in body, poisoned in mind, the spirit on it's way
Brick lanes and paddy wagons, urchins and knock-a-door run
The unshaven dealers, passing poor product to the children
and they, still in uniform, bleary eyed, satchels and sandwiches
We, tied, cuffed, stranded and free
Flags! The flags were a sight, satirical and stupefying
Patriotism always made me chuckle, it being so absurd
Yet her majesty still reigns supreme, have we no shame?
Oh justifiable mockery, tainted our streets, the names we know
How can one free one's country if one is but one person,
and how could one simultaneous be one million?
But even here in this mournful cell that layeth ten feet below, I am free, I may not know it yet, but I am...
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
with my
tick
to your
tock
in a seesaw of turbulent
tug-
of-
war
tussling sheets in beds we just
made
inflicting identical
***
for
tats
bell curves
in
bell jars
cupboards
open
&
shut
on rusted hinges
light a candle?
blow it out
sun
chases
moon
moon
chases
sun
on an endless meridian of a
hamster wheel
Sophia
&
Hermes
straddling white picket fences
of here and now
cause an
effect for an
affect
cycling on
stationary bicycles
through cyclones
popping cycloserine
just stop
the clock
the saw
the rope
the bed
the tide
the wheel
the bike
and
stand
still.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
The air in my bedroom is blue,
I float through it, a stark vessel
tussling against the dark hue
desperate to nestle into sheets,
or clouds,
or weary dreams filled
with a dark street,
a slammed foot,
and a hair's breadth
from turning a deer into dead meat,
resulting in a crash,
leaving a dead me;
Only to awake shaken,
recollecting a statement
from my grandma's dementia ridden mind
"I always see it with you,
it's always right behind..."
then I sit up with a sigh
and a shrug,
and open up to the blue air,
at least whatever it is
will always be there,
will always...
care
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 3:09 AM UTC
This teetotaler turns to tea
torquing temptation
towards tippling
thankfully, though
that tremendous tugging
teasing tendency thirst *******
thru teaching this totally tubular
toothless titular Texan thuggish tyrant
(titled Tsar Terry Troutman)
transcendental theology
tenets taught transferring
torpedoing, taming threatening
titanic tsunami tempest
tastefully tickling temperance
testing trying taut tenacity
together teaming (troika)
triumvirate torchbearers
*********** therapist
(Tony the tiger)
tough trailblazer theoretician
toady treacly Tory
(Tommy Two Tone),
thence thirdly Theodore
"Tornado" Tornetta)
themselves trained to tamp
twerking tremens triggers,
their tripartite treatment told
tattooing thorny transforming
took this then truant teenage turtle
through time traveling
to those truant tumultuous tragic,
toxic, tipsy twitchy, touchy, tetchy
typhoon terrible two times two
times two times two tantrum
throwing, thieving, threatening
taxing textured teen tinder times -
tossing, tilting, taking tankful tolled
throaty, thoroughly,
thickly telltale temblor
toured terrible tournament
testing taupe tumbling termagant (Thaddeus)
tangling (Tangoing) tiny Timothy,
the treacherous tarantula
tying tussling travail – tata!
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 6:31 PM UTC
It's time to sleep my little buddy, The day is done and you've had your fun.
You have built great fortresses and battled the unending hordes, but now it's time to rest my little warrior. The battles won and the day is saved and it's time for you to hit the hay. I know you feel it's o so unfair, "going to bed now, but I'm a big boy I am three" I shake my head and sigh with the experience of age, I already know the lie. "I'm not even tired you'll say" but it will be chased by a yawn and a rub if the eye and I'll know that my hunch of a feeling was on the bulls-eye. Tussling your hair and tucking you in tight I'll tell you how much I love you and turn out the light. I'm sure you will think as you lay in that bed all alone that Daddy has left you all alone. But fear not my son because even though I am not beside you, you are always on my mind. I will be near ready to spring into action no matter the fear. I love you my son and I shall never leave you unprotected, so rest now my son and have no fear.
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 1:19 PM UTC
Remore _Distant, Remorse_
_Distante Amor, Amore_
There's not even one hour of the day,
one cold morning,
or one warm sunny evening
that I don't miss your raspy voice,
your coloquial laughing eyes
and your soft hands caressing mine,
tussling with my arms, my legs, and my hair.
There's not a moment when I do not feel you near....
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 1:47 PM UTC
like a tree alone at night
my father sits in our garden
the lone star in the sky showers him with radiance
and apart from the wind tussling around with his parchment
the furious scribble of his pen
he is silent
stoic
and solitary
he is eternities away
lost in his mind space with no suit
and I can no longer recognize him
until suddenly
he jumps
taking a graceful swan dive into the untold
with no mission control relaying actions
just his mind
before he emerges with the sun
steadily walking towards my mother as she stands on our patio
the sky behind her as if it were painted by Van Gogh himself
turbulent and swimming with passion
I can see him again through the parted clouds
he is different, yet the same
as he turns towards my window
giving me the wink he always has
I realize:
no matter how far he travels
and how long he stays away
my father is still my father
and there is nothing that can make me feel any other way
Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 10:56 PM UTC
The mongrel lays stow in drowse
In her wooden colorless doghouse,
With five half-blooded pups;
Tussling softly and loose-limbed,
Ringroundabout at her breast -
The rain has surged at last,
This world is now grey yet beautiful,
This drizzle of cloudburst
Gushes and rushes like a nosebleed -
The unapproachable splendor
of the empyrean coming undone
(Bababadalgharaghtakamminarronn-
konnbronntonnerronntuonnthunnt-
rovarrhounawnskawntoohoo-
hoordenenthurnuk)
Oh what a chocolate-box day
For five-tuplet pups , black as coal,
White as a swan and brown as oak
to be tussling softly in.
- Jamie F. Nugent
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 11:31 AM UTC
The warm wind tugs at my heart like a lover returning
But in this sorrow is a neon joy shining brighter than everything I’ve ever seen
It reminds me of you
Tussling my hair
Moving toward my destination
Hoping I’ll return to its embrace
How lovely the wind feels, curling in the spaces my fingers make
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 2:16 PM UTC
Do you ever wonder why,
leaves are most beautiful ,
when they're about to die?
Scortched red like fireflies,
they sail delicately across
the sullen sky.
But tussling against the whirlwind,
each little leaf dwindles.
Now breathless and wilted.
Disfigured and shriveled,
they kiss the grass and taste the soil.
Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC
last night was exciting, tussling through the covers. i remember the covers moving smoothly over my body as i gently play on my kitten.
soft touches i began to moan i realize that this is better fun then with someone it seems that i can really get the cat to purr.
my favorite music in the background cheering me on thinking i'm not stopping ill have to play another slow jam as the beat speeds up i move my hand faster i'm in the zone.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
Filtered my soul t
Tussling with life
The tension
It’s dense
Obstructed light
It’s tense
Washed up
seeking a potential rinse
A spiritual cleanse
Weakened knees
The last leg
Finished
Requested permission
souls beg
Pains you can’t see
That traverse the head
A quick whiff of character
Negative voice
Alternate the narrative
Stay grounded
What’s underneath
Same old discoveries
Massive hide and seek
What’s founded
None hark
As the soul speaks
Deflated
As the hurt leaks
Emotional bagged
Lurks deep
Read between
With articles
Of clothing
Disguised what
Lies Beneath
One tear
Is a luggage
Of truth
The pillow seeps
Rooted in honesty
Every cry
Layers shed
souls filter
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
I dreamed a class of history
When I was riding on my bike.
A giant man was tussling a fierce lion
The one wins, eats the other-
Shortest tale of Darwin's theory;
The one fits, survives.
Group of men killing the other under the crowns of kings
Winning flag slaves the losing flag
Dirtiest game of thrones;
The one wins, rules.
I winked-
Emaciated begging hands are stretched along the roads
On which I have been travelling;
I have been riding over corpses of people starved to death.
I am scared now:
What kinda dream my daughter gets
About me and about us?
Are you too scared, now?
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 9:53 AM UTC
Skimming down the road,
Fingers embraced by the passing wind,
Trying to race to the western promises.
Passing into lands previously untravelled,
Towards the glow emenating from those golden opportunities,
Almost as if taking flight towards the stark blue horizon.
Not long to go,
Just a push and a plunge,
A great fall to the left on the map.
In search of a better future,
As great plains are traversed,
The beacon of answers to great questions lay ahead.
Skimming down the road,
Fingers embraced by the passing wind,
Trying to outrace the eastern storm.
Lessons in the trunk,
A case of tenacity in the passenger seat,
Goals hogging the back seat.
The wind tussling hair as it passes,
A gentle greeting as the countryside opens up,
The air clearer with every mile.
Everything seeming sharper,
Like a previously unknown haze being pulled from the eyes,
Colors vibrant and new.
Skimming down the road,
Fingers embraced by the passing wind,
Chasing the setting sun and running from the night.
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
Here I lay, gazing at the ceiling,
doubting myself,
cringing deep within the pain & failure time has caused,
counting my pulses to break free from the torment,
shielding from the scorn towards life.
Skirmishing to sustain, tussling to see the light on the other side,
just another day, just another night,
screamed the fortitude within,
only for the qualm to ante-up the very next moment.
“I can’t think straight”, declared the mind,
“It hurts”, voiced the heart,
“We are tired”, blared the heart & mind in unison
It’s exhausting that every breath I take is burdened with tangled thoughts,
every attempt to make things better turns fraught.
Should I give up?
Should I put an end to the whole discord?
Will then everything be alright? asked the failed clout.
As the fight within grew tougher,
the tenacity to quash negativity became firmer.
As I crawl through each day to reconcile with my happiness,
my credulity to beat the beast within revived.
I know it isn’t going to be easy,
I know I don’t feel the warmth of a sound mind yet,
I know I don’t feel the shelter of a calm heart yet,
Nevertheless,
there’s a shining hope within that it’s going to be okay.
I am not alone,
I am good enough,
I am strong enough,
I am brave enough,
I am stubborn enough to not give up, not yet,
I can wait one more day, one more night,
start all over again, and again
until I can finally feel at ease to be real and not perfect.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 6:43 PM UTC