"uncharacteristically" poems
"Sorgente' " (Spring Waters)
I never knew tears could be so rough
Scratching my chest as if trying
To climb in, next to my heart.
Perhaps they would be more comfortable together,
able to fathom what my mind won’t.
I see the pain clawing on his face-
Engraved
like the tombstone we picked out for him
a couple of days ago.
All it was missing was a date…
Date the waters, watch how time will freeze them over.
Frozen in time, their memory awaits our remembrance.
It was only yesterday that we took a traditional dive
In the glistening, silkened
Waters-kissed the base
of that cold, slippery precipice. But we were gazelles that
early spring. The Impalelies and Witbietou flowers
Met rowdy cheeks and our seasoned grace.
We were Eagles, soaring to gather our prey.
Plop! To the crust of the water’s earth,
we dived uncharacteristically.
Characteristically- I, resurfaced.
You touched the Sun and the Moon that morning.
You called on God and His Son, Jesus Christ.
You said a prayer to Buddha and Indian goddess Indrani.
You kissed the fragrant air of the Jacaranda tree,
and consumed the fate of the Great Julius Caesar.
Makeda and Zulu King Catewayo,
cried in Imhotep’s arms that morning,
Tears beat upon the Djembe drum
Performing Indonesian Gamelan
We chanted the words- spero
Here I sit,
there, next to you
wondering when our eyes will meet
again.
Wondering how long you will play this game
of “who can hold their breath the longest.”
You are winning…I am crying.
My face is stained with your name,
your absent spirit, envelopes this hospital room
but your soul-
your soul will run, jump into the air,
And up there,
This time-
I will catch you.
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 10:20 PM UTC
It's hard to forget you
And not just because I remember the way you made me feel (happy)
But because I remember everything
about you.
I remember the way you pulled me up into your treehouse and showed me your childhood, littered with cigarettes and beer bottles.
And the way your hands shook when you would touch me;
As if they were bottles of spray paint and my body was a blank wall.
I remember the way you would ramble on about nothing
Because you were afraid I'd get bored in the silence.
Yet talking with you was effortless; like how you once started a bonfire with gasoline: instant.
I remember the way your eyes always told different stories than your mouth
And how they looked when we sat by the river playing with cattails.
I remember the energy I felt when you made me break a window in the abandoned house
And the nostalgic sadness I felt when I broke the empty bottle of liquor in the same room
Alone.
Because I can't forget the nothingness in your eyes when you ended things
Or your steady hands that I was no longer allowed to reach out for.
I can't forget how you uncharacteristically said so little,
Dousing the flame I was trying so hard to keep alive.
Or how you so easily walked away
as though everything I ever remembered about you
Was really someone else.
I can't forget how you crushed my heart in between your hands until it turned to dust.
And now all I can do is spend my days writing your name in the ashes in cursive
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
Have you remembered yet? the knowing questions in the undergrounds of memories. Recall how glorious it is to yearn for remembering. Unknown ravens gauging the eyes of happiness which kneels in the yard of your remembering. Are you here or are you around the outskirts of your remembering. Are you knowing or are you a glimpse of your own remembering. Ugliness resides in the undefended hills of your remembering. Unapologetic ultrasonic hums open your remembering. Grief resolves uncharacteristically in our remembering. Unconscious thoughts rise uncorrected in your remembering. Greet happiness uncontrolled by your remembering. Open your gut and unearth a capsule of understanding. Gasp in awe as you control yourself trying to remember. How am I here, around this hell? Graceless is my memory of how I am the way I am. Creature aside, away attempting to remember the hell they came from. Have you remembered yet? that creature that you are? Yearning to remember anywhere else, anywhere but the underground of memories, anywhere but the unmeasured mind of how we all are now. Rising heaps of unfiltered uses of your remembering reminds me of how I once was. Have you remembered yet? How I am? How you are? How we are just creatures with unresolved remembering.
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 7:22 PM UTC
.
War. Famine.
Pestilence. Death.
Enjoy a game of poker.
It relieves the boredom.
They only have one Big project
booked into the work diary.
The horses are stabled,
so why not have down time?
The day-to-day business
takes care of itself.
Ably supervised by the humans
in a race to the Big day.
The stillness is penetrated by sound.
Death cleaning his teeth
with his reaping scythe or
Death sharpening his reaping scythe
on his teeth.
Either way, it shattered vertebrae.
His nerves were getting twitchy.
Three Kings, the Jack and Queen of Clubs.
Royals were dropping like flies.
It was going to be a busy night.
He met Wars eyes and her bet,
**** She looks beautiful sweating),
paid an advance and called.
Uncharacteristically delicate,
he lay down his souls.
Jack and Queen of Clubs.
Kings of Diamonds, Spades and Hearts.
War smiled sweetly.
Her dirk-like eyelashes
fluttering an assassins dance.
Letting her cards fall soft,
triumphant with winners ecstasy,
she declares her hand...
… “SNAP!” she says.
© Pagan Paul (14/03/17)
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 6:18 PM UTC
The stifling darkness chokes my senses to the point at which I can't differentiate between the sounds of water dropping from branches and the moisture falling from the edge of my chin onto the crumpled leaves strewn around my feet.
Crickets and assorted bugs I couldn't dream of naming pierce the dark with their high-pitched keening, and the occasional large displacement of rainwater from above reminds me of my childhood fear of the dark.
These methodical observations cascading through my mind calm the frazzled maelstrom my emotions currently resemble.
The borrowed boots I threw on, before flinging the door open to make my escape into the dark alternate reality of the night, confine my feet in an unusual way; my toes slamming into the fronts as I walk downhill; the soles of my feet slide back and forth as I trip over the branches and stumps hidden from my eyes by the thick blindfold of night.
I crumple, much like the leaves at my feet, onto a slightly damp fallen tree and close my eyes; more from habit than to block out the non-existent light. The bark feels somewhat grimy under the hand I recline upon, but the chaos gripping my mind occupies my attention; therefore I have no brain capacity to decide if the slimy surface warrants a relocation on my part.
I direct my full attention inward and examine my uncharacteristically jumbled emotional cloud. Angry reds and blacks flash into exisitence, before extinguishing to reveal sickly yellow veins underneath before lighting again. As the time between the red and black explosions increases, a melancholy dark blue smog coats the inner recesses of my mind like a fuzzy wallpaper and rug combo. The cloud of emotion has dissipated, leaving only dark green wisps of calm in it's wake.
This writing seems to have calmed my inner turmoil; I accept the loss of a piece of me and mourn it's destruction. I'm left without the energy to pick up the artistic utensils I would use to recreate this piece sacrificed against my will.
Hopefully, I will regain the motivation in the morning. But for now, I shall make my way back through the slick stumps and crumpled leaves to my bed and pass the time till then in dreams.
Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 11:18 PM UTC
the rain falls down in small volleys
they call it daily showers
the temperature rises to near sixties
uncharacteristically ominous
rising to a foul stagnation
and the fog rolls in to obscure sight
it's hard to see but so far ahead of you
when you're out there wandering
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
You sit behind me in class,
And perhaps I am so acutely aware of your presence because
I remember what you said behind
the safety of your keyboard and it made my heart
flutter.
Or perhaps it is because
You sat on the other side of the room until
I told you my secret;
because I was never very good at keeping secrets,
And now I can feel you brush my back
And play with my hair
And your eyes burn the back of my head
But you blush and apologize when I notice.
Perhaps this is all so
complicated
Because you're already in love
But it isn't with me.
And you're a good guy,
You'd never want to hurt her
But I want you for myself
And doing things that might hurt
In the best of ways.
Or perhaps I am overly optimistic,
maybe uncharacteristically so.
But I remember the heat of your hand on my arm
And the way you pulled back a moment and looked me in the eyes
Because that tingle of skin couldn't have only been felt
on my end.
All I know is this is so unlike anything
I've experienced before.
It's 3 years in the making.
And I can wait a little longer
A lot longer
For you.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 1:33 AM UTC
Do you know what it's like to see everything?
To see the punchline before the joke;
to see the ending at the beginning.
Sometimes, I do.
Sometimes, I don't.
And when I do, I really do.
I call every play,
I finish every sentence.
But when I don't, I really don't.
I am uncharacteristically oblivious,
and I do not see any warning signs.
It terrifies me.
I want to see everything, always.
Because when I don't...
Oh, when I don't....
Nothing good ever happens.
(d.d.b)
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 11:41 PM UTC
I want you for a night,
I want to drink a red wine with you,
even though I would have preferred *****
I want to drink and feel alive with you for the night,
a night of passion and long, long hair.
I want to wake up early, uncharacteristically.
next to you.
I would find a piano
and hand you your guitar,
We would make music in the afternoon.
And in the night?
Do it again.
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 4:04 AM UTC
She stares into her canvas, drawing
to her brush a blood-red droplet
of paint for another flower, her hands
delicate, as diaphanous as the wings
of a white butterfly, with blue veins
running a precious lace-like pattern
from her thin fingers to her heart.
She knew she didn't have long to live,
but death was uncharacteristically
slow in fulfilling itself, as she sought
week by week to finish her painting.
Not a masterpiece, I sensed, and
perhaps not even intended
to be finished, but instead a sweet,
wonderful journey of the heart, as if
retracing a memory-strewn path
back to her beginning. She paused
at times in her wanderings along the
sunlit path of that canvas, too ill
to leave her bed, or looking upon
the world from a hospital window,
the shadows of her death intensifying.
The last time she was able to paint
she seemed aware that her death
was near, and thanked God for the years
allotted her. She died several days later,
her canvas, her life, largely incomplete
but her true journey now underway.
*(For Dorothy, my painting partner,
who died Thursday, Aug. 5, 2010)*
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 2:38 PM UTC
The sun sported a brilliant shade of pink eye as she rose this morning
I wondered what had happened to her on the other side of the mountain last night, for her to awake as grouchy as this
I wondered if, perhaps, the moon had been kicked in her face
Wondered if the smoky sky had reached her nostrils as she slept, if she wept when she realized how long the moisture's been kept
But mostly, I wondered how she could be so irritated at the sight of me
Staring me down as she swelled with some awful infection
That had spread to the puffy tissue surrounding one veined eyelid
Well, I looked right back
Daring her to send me back inside to those promising shadows beneath my dinosaur blanket in bed
It all seemed much more inviting than this
At 6:30 in the morning, no less
Why, with her so uncharacteristically red in the face
Would anyone want to be around such a ginormous ball of sunshine when they first awake?
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 3:58 AM UTC
exactly how white do I want to be?
came to terms with my whiteness sometime ago,
the dentist mixes in, an offer to refresh my yellowed
pearls, who’ve served admirably long, sure footed,
long in the tooth…
surprisingly, this puts me off guard, uncharacteristically
unprepared,
exactly how white do I want them to be?
mmm…
the scale is as follows (intermediary levels are complicated)
1. Taylor Swift Bright
10. Cowardly Lion Old Yeller
and shades in between, I’ve grown accustomed to to my smile, which is closest to the Lion’s accreted usage and
wear and tear, and decide to stay as is, to keep my body
in a state of synchronicity
Doctor puzzled, “why do I smile?”
Why Doktor!
you’ve commissioned a poem,
and now know why your License Plate
declare you as Dentist so boldly,
You have the power to end racial strife,
uniform the populace with bright headlights,
and clearly should be allowed to proceed
posthaste to any and all life threatening
emergencies
but my preference is to display many decades
of failure, irregular brushes, periodic flossed,
my natural color my god-given grace, and who
am I
OR ANYONE ELSE
be empowered
to disturb the natural order of human
perfectionism schematics, for
to every season, every human being,
there is a color unique!*
Feb 8, 2024
Feb 8, 2024 at 7:51 AM UTC
I can't really pinpoint the exact
moment I knew I loved you. Maybe it
was when we met and you were the only
person to look me in the eye. Maybe
during one of the many annoying
touches and shoves you often give me, I
suddenly realized I liked it. Maybe it
was when I looked over and happened
to catch your eye from across the room.
Maybe it was when you were
uncharacteristically quiet and sweet
when my head was too loud. Maybe it
was when you put your arm around her
waist, still joking with me like
everything was normal. Maybe it was
when I was alone and I thought of you.
Maybe it was when I was crying and my
friend sent a snapshot of you, lifting
the pressure from my chest. Maybe it
was when I first felt that warm squeeze
in my chest when I thought of your
hands. Maybe it was when I woke up
from a dream of you and couldn't
breathe. Maybe it was when I tried to
picture your face when my hands
grasped your shoulder and my lips
pressed to your cheek. Maybe it was
just there all along. Maybe the stars in
the universe were just right at two am
on a normal day. Maybe.
M.C.M
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 7:04 PM UTC
exactly how white do I want to be?
came to terms with my whiteness some(many)times ago,
yet, the dentist mixes in, an offer to refresh my yellowed
pearlys who’ve served admirably long, so sure footed,
long in the tooth…so to speak
surprisingly, this puts me off guard, uncharacteristically
unprepared,
exactly how white do I want them to be?
mmm…
the scale is as follows (intermediary levels are complicated)
1. Taylor Swift Bright
10. Cowardly Lion Old Yeller
and shades in between, I’ve grown accustomed to to my smile, which is closest to the Lion’s accreted usage and
wear and tear, and decide to stay as is, to keep my body
in a state of synchronicity
Doctor puzzled, “why do I smile?”
Why Doktor!
you’ve commissioned a poem,
and now know why your License Plate
declare you as Dentist so boldly,
You have the power to end racial strife,
uniform the populace with bright headlights,
and clearly should be allowed to proceed
posthaste to any and all life threatening
emergencies
but my preference is to display many decades
of failure, irregular brushes, periodic flosses,
my natural color, my god-given grace, and who
am I
OR ANYONE ELSE
be empowered
to disturb the natural order of human
perfectionism schematics, for
to every season, every human being,
is a color unique!
Feb 7, 2024
Feb 7, 2024 at 10:35 AM UTC
the house is big
and silent
without you in it
no barking or howling
just uncharacteristically quiet.
i miss your
scruffy grey bearded face
and soft cinnamon colored fur
the sweet way you slept
seemingly without a care
but
looming as it always does
is the end
i knew it was coming
it never made it easier
knowing this
my friend kc, who still tried
even when his sight went
and his legs gave out
who still showed me flashes
of that little ball of fur
i fell in love with
so many years ago
then the time came and i had to let you go
but it feels like you are never far away from me
i expect you to be there
i still say goodnight
and tell you to sleep well
i say these things out of
habit - maybe
but i hope
that you can still hear me
when i say
love you man
it makes me feel
a little better
because i think you can
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
Acknowledging bliss
Uncharacteristically
Enjoying just me.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
when she's off her meds
i cant take her out in public places
she's not good with people
tends to rip off their faces
when she's off her meds
it's so hard to breath
the air is so wretched heavy
lingering with her disease
when she's off her meds
she is uncharacteristically sweet
you won't know what hit you
until your front teeth chip the concrete
so the next time she goes off her meds
i will not fight
just relax as the hooks sink in
when she draws close to deliver the final blow
i will wait for the perfect moment
and pull the pin
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 12:06 AM UTC
ITS ALL DONE NOW - BY KRISTIE T -12TH APRIL 2007
6 July 2012 at 01:04
ITS ALL DONE NOW, OUR LOVE IS GONE
BITTER SWEET, INTERNALISED PAIN FOR TOO LONG
TO ME IT FELT RIGHT, TO YOU IT FELT WRONG
ITS ALL DONE NOW, ITS ALL GONE
FEAR, PANIC, PARANOIA WON OUT
NO NEED FOR US TO SCREAM OR SHOUT
FOR YOU WALKED, NO, RAN OUT
BEFORE YOU REALLY KNEW WHAT I WAS ABOUT
ITS ALL DONE NOW
OH AND HOW, FOR LOVE, YOU DID NOT ALLOW
AND WE BOTH FELL FOUL
TO OUR FEARS FROM THE PAST, NOT WHAT IS HERE AND NOW
ITS ALL DONE NOW, NO MORE TEARS, NO MORE CRYING
YOU'VE GIVEN UP ON ME, GIVEN UP ON TRYING
I ASK, HAVE YOU ALSO GIVEN UP ON SMILING?
YOU'LL NEVER SEE, THAT DEEP INSIDE OF ME I'M DYING
AVERT YOUR EYES, NO MORE QUESTIONS, PLEASE STOP PRYING.
ITS ALL DONE NOW AND I FEEL WEAK
MY FIERY SOUL UNCHARACTERISTICALLY SUBSERIVANT AND MEEK
FOR IT WANTS TO GIVE MY WOUNDED HEART THE FREEDOM TO SEEK
TRUTH & LOVE, ALTHOUGH RIGHT NOW, THE PROSPECTS SEEM BLEAK
ITS ALL DONE NOW, NO RAW EMOTION LEFT TO SHARE
I'LL KEEP IT LOCKED INSIDE, SEEMINGLY NOT HAVING A CARE
BUT LATE AT NIGHT, I AM HAUNTED, TAUNTED & YOU ARE WHERE?!
I ANALYSE, BLAME, FULL OF REGRET & CONTINUALLY ASK -"DID I PLAY FAIR?"
ITS ALL DONE NOW, THAT WAS THE FINAL FAREWELL
MY VERY CORE, MY ALL, MY HEART BEING TORTURED IN HELL
I SHALL TAKE TIME TO HEAL, FEEL, RETREAT INTO CRABBY SHELL
WHEN, IN TIMES YET TO COME, & I BUMP INTO YOU, MY EYES HIDE MY PAIN WELL
FOR ITS A HUGE AND BLATENT LIE THAT I'M TRYING TO SELL
PRETENDING I'VE RECOVERED, MOVED ON, FROM THAT SPELL OF WHICH I ONCE FELL
ITS ALL DONE NOW
AND TIME IS A GREAT HEALER, OR THATS WHAT SOMEONE ONCE TOLD ME
I WISH I COULD TRAVEL INTO THE FUTURE AND FIND MYSELF HAPPY AND FREE
BUT AT THIS MOMENT OF WRITING, I''M STILL WISHING YOU WERE HERE WITH ME
I WISH YOU COULD SEE
JUST HOW GREAT LIFE COULD BE
IF ONLY YOU COULD HAVE BELIEVED AND TRUSTED IN ME
MY LOVE WOULD HAVE SET YOUR SOUL FREE
BUT SADLY YOU DID NOT ALLOW
AND SO I HAVE TO REPEAT OUT LOUD
THATS IT, ITS ALL DONE NOW
YOU ARE ONCE MORE JUST A NAMELESS FACE IN A CROWD
ITS ALL DONE NOW
SHOUT IT OUT LOUD
KRISTIE BE PROUD
YOU CAN TURN THIS AROUND
ON DAY HE'LL SEE JUST WHAT HE HAD FOUND
WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN HIS, IF ONLY HIS HEART HAD ALLOWED
ITS GONE -ITS ALL DONE NOW
LET GO - LEARN & GROW -FOR YOU KNOW
ITS ALL DONE - ALL GONE
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 1:53 PM UTC
Silence scares me.
For many, it enables them to feel free.
Not me.
It makes me want to flee.
Noise is my cover, it enables me to hide from all around.
In its din, refuge, I have found.
I can listen to any noise, varying in volume. Sound.
It is my truest friend.
With sound I do not have to pretend.
If the melodies cease.
My anxiety is sure to increase.
The continuity of a sound wave.
This is when you can be sure that my mind will behave.
To any tune you could say that I am a slave.
If I do not have some form of music or backing track.
Self esteem, confidence and control you'll find I will lack.
I may become uncharacteristically nervous; always looking back.
Music enables me to come out of my shell.
Transporting from my internal, mental and emotional hell.
If my playlist is on, of my problems you will most likely be unaware.
I would appear outwardly, to be a normal person without a care.
If it is turned off, I would be virtually incoherent maybe even pulling out my hair.
And human contact, WHOA! NO! I simply could not bear.
As long as I'm sitting atop my sound cloud I am happy there.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 8:08 AM UTC
there was a cool and damp electric hum
i heard outside my ear
and in the sky, hung high above my mind,
a pulsing breathing thing
in quick repetition and in pace with the sounds
of an uncharacteristically chilled evening
i could see the stars as they were
i could see myself as i am
and the world was right
but only in that moment.
i turned away, but for a blink,
and the earth had turned, hiding away,
our moment shared in time
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 3:05 AM UTC