"uncoil" poems
Strange strings of thought.
Thoughts of loyalty and love,
thoughts of friendship and of ambition
and my condition;
thoughts of submission of subtraction and addition.
Unravel the secret of the continent,
oh how you are persistent.
The road uncoils and I uncoil down the pavement.
Off i go.
Twisted days of golden glow.
Off I go, into the black hole
of the road.
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC
What they don’t tell you in school,
while you’re trying to remember
the difference between prophase and metaphase
chromosomes and chromatin
is that really
biology isn’t science
biology is life
See, divorce
divorce is like mitosis
slow to start, but quick to finish
Begins at prophase
when conflicts arise as your family’s nucleolus,
your family’s unity
disappears
Your carefree life, your chromatin,
coil and change
become tight, tense chromosomes
Outside forces, mitotic spindles,
residing in the cytoplasm
start creeping towards your parents
to separate their souls
Metaphase:
you’re all lined up
single file
ready for battle
Centrosomes, middles of each new life,
poised opposing each other
with their spindles latched onto you kinetochore, your middle,
like a dog with it’s leash
Anaphase:
everything separates,
your world’s torn apart
and you’re left silently
watching
alone
as your sister is torn from your life
Telophase:
the pain starts to lessen
as you uncoil
and your broken family’s nuclear membrane
begins to reform
Once the paper’s are signed
once the cell’s wall’s rebuilt
your old life is over
and the process
it’s finished
See, they don’t tell you
don’t think you need to know
that
divorce is simply biology
and
mitosis
well, it’s life
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
What am I?
Water of Love
A kiss Divine?
Each crystalline design
A shimmering Angel!
Dear heart, uncoil
Open my seeking, hungry soul
Reaching beyond the breath of freedom
To sooth weary pains.
Am I enough?
Clasping each frozen crystal.
Gently touching. Gently Soothing
Each fallen tear.
Gently touching. Gently Soothing
Clasping each frozen crystal.
I am enough!
To Sooth weary pains.
Reaching beyond the breath of freedom
Open my seeking, hungry soul
Dear heart uncoil
A shimmering Angel
Each Crystalline design
A kiss Divine
Water of Love
Am I.
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 4:39 PM UTC
Come to me,
come to me
with paper and pencil
and too much coffee.
Come to me
like the Sahara.
Come to me
like skyscrapers
and bandaged
clouds.
Come to me
in a whirl of flesh
vivid as oil
under a streetlight,
I will make a rainbow.
Come to me with optimism
or pessimism,
hope and death.
Come to me
like I came to you in the night,
when you were suicidal
and I had to hold you
away from your stash
of oxy's
like a knot
and uncoil myself
in the morning.
Come to me
when the fish run,
and the whales
scream
and the jellyfish
wash ashore
like glass hearts
solid and fracturing.
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 7:11 PM UTC
Traces of lassitude
Slow down to cruising,
Warmth of the whiskey
Ameliorates bruising.
Putting the feet up
Makes it inane,
That I'm subtly aroused
In mouthing your name.
Subtle arousal
In tracing the line
Of your thin cotton ******
With fingertip fine,
And watching the smile
Slide up to your eyes,
See the blend of your blushing
In murmured surprise.
Oh the glorious sunset
Streams in through the glass
And the shades refracted
Nicely contour your ***
And the whisky is mellow
The mood is sublime,
So the promise of evening
Improves with time.
With serpentine moves
And the grace of an snake,
You uncoil to your feet
And you make your escape.
Mouthing thin fabrications
And utter wee fibs,
You flee back to your hearth
And your husband and kids.
Solace alone Baby,
Solace alone,
With frustration and whisky
All the lonely way home.
As the penitent thoughts
Percolate through unseen,
My sad mind lingers
On what might have been.
Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
27 January 2010
Jan 27, 2010
Jan 27, 2010 at 12:08 AM UTC
Uncoil his fingers’ grasp
Exhibit this exceptional spoil
With a Magpie’s glinting eye;
Espy this rarest of rare stamp
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC
*What be more grandiose than poetry,
expound at your own discretion,
bottle sunshine, save it in a jar,
tie an affectionate knot, spread it around
flood desert mirages with flowing spirits,
speaks kindly and murderously about love,
can tempt winds to uncoil temptation's gist
****** upon or written asunder desperation
relentless in its seizing of human behavior,
magnifying moonbeams or star's decimation
perfumed magnolias to winter's cruelty,
call of the wild midst sweetness of fresh rhubarb pie,
infinitely vast in its incalculable grasp of predication,
beyond limitless infrastructures 'neath fancied significance*
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
Peter Pan stole my innocence,
and the hurricane claimed my name.
Exasperated replies conquered the dawn,
and a baking tin of foiled hate.
Forgetful days will come forth hence,
and sleepless nights will hold the blame.
As silent screams will whisper through cracks,
and driving motions continue straight.
To uncoil a watch too wound,
and overclock a piece.
Releasing the vine from being that was bound,
I think that would be nice.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 5:36 AM UTC
The dust of their coming and going
Sifts down through the years,
Their gravity once knotted fabric to flesh;
Even though they're near,
Just the ashes, are all can impress.
Since time snapped in two between their fingers,
They haven't aged much, except to uncoil,
Unwind branching strands;
Under satin recoil
Beneath brass sheaths, the body banal.
We walk upon the faces of kings, and sleep
High, on the ruined backs of strangers;
All unknowing, how the dust gets laid,
Unaware of the danger-
Every generation becomes the new day.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
I learned to hold my breath
the way leaves hold out for seasons change; continuously
relentlessly
bracingly -
both in anticipation of the storm
and caught beneath its savage gaze.
The piercing ditty,
melodious cries that uncoil us
springs forth like flashes of lightning -
fear that catapults towards another painful promise of sleepless nights and hope deferred yet held fast still.
Still
Still
I need only be still.
And I exhale
Your name on my breath
as I realise I’ve been holding air in my lungs, tighter than anxiety and fear clasped my heart causing the beats to come like torrential rain,
like tears of release, relief, remorse that fall, surrendering to the One who sees me.
I feel the load lift from my shoulders
boulder by boulder
9.12, 9.57, 11.26, 13.50, 16.10, 18.12
every confidence, horrifying utterance
weighed so heavy on my heart
absorbed into yours
piece for peace
Yahweh Yireh.
Still.
Still.
I need only be still.
Sep 15, 2025
Sep 15, 2025 at 5:46 PM UTC
*The vaulted door.
A secret to shatter your most treasured,
secured, and honored convictions.
The iron lock.
A revelation to unbound you, to uncoil
the creature concealing your true face.
The inflamed key.
A conclusion you never wanted,
yet were unable to seek otherwise.
Freedom.*
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 5:28 PM UTC
_I want to fall into myself - to leave should’s, must’s,
and need to be’s scattered inconsequentially in my wake.
I want to dive deeply - to loosen my shoulders,
relax my arms, and slacken my griping fingers.
I want to uncoil my imagination - to revel in a crystal night sky,
a cool breeze, and a pink moon rising.
I want to meet the nomad - solitary, suspended in a sky-borne
playa, and blazing a trail to infinity._
May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 6:06 PM UTC
wine stains on the shelf
a flash of irritation ended
coverless on the couch
separateness lingers into morning
politeness papers over open wounds
where repairs could have been made
memory wire refuses to uncoil
we'd overwound the pound-shop threads
of our connection
scraped each filament to fronds
that could part at any moment
but didn't
we argue our differences, forget
to celebrate our samenesses
sensing barriers
where none are
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 6:32 AM UTC
cat call in the backyard
bend your back, back so slender
*unveil that ****** tension*
*cut through it like a hot knife to butter*
Oh.. slide..
prayer knees in the front yard
keep looking at me
baby girl, baby girl
wake up, I've been dreamed
roll forked-tongue down river bends
five more minutes, please
rotate in
twisted serpent in my neck
uncoil so slowly
now
she's dreaming
how wet
oh
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
By Wednesday
I’m ready to
unhook
unhinge
unfold.
Peel this pale skin
right off these overtaxed bones
& let my soul sip
on all of the thoughts
I scolded myself
for thinking
while I walked
across the company parking lot.
I’m sure she would tell you
that those sipped thoughts—
they taste like slow jazz.
They envelop the tongue
without permission
& casually uncoil into
all of the beautiful,
tasteless language
that is able to seamlessly
twist and bewitch.
I’m sure she would tell you
that anything
worth a sip
is forbidden,
as she cups her palms
& presses them to your lips.
“Have a drink,” she’ll say,
“You need some color
in those cheeks.”
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
This is the Southern Range.
Roads up here,
they want you thrown.
They coil, uncoil,
black snakes
hugging the rock.
There are signs of course,
always are,
crude symbols, bee colored,
lining the road.
Their message is plain:
Up here, so near
heaven,
danger falls.
Cars get crushed.
And in the morning
there's steam, it's everywhere,
rising like crazy.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 2:49 PM UTC
My eyes glow and glitter in the night
hard and reflective like obsidian
Watching you cradle her voice in your phone
if her words were golden-plumed cage birds
I would uncoil in an instant, spring and rip
Their little wings off.
Her wail soars
hangs in the air between us;
bleeding other-woman-anguish it
drops like a dead swallow into my palms.
It’s her suicide bid, her Hail Mary.
Your eyes are knifed with remorse
my sigh floats a white feather in the cold air.
In the barren coldness of this
New Mexico night
my wine weeps the dregs of
the distance between us.
My hands squeeze tighter,
bones pop, nails crease skin
the moon grins the truth at me:
I am the other woman too.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
Let me be a child once more
as I uncoil this scratchy length of rope
and fashion it into the likeness of a lasso
that ensnares the necks of imaginary villains.
Allow me this one moment
of childhood as I scale this tree
reliving dusty memories
of skinned palms
and bad falls
placed in family storage.
Can we play make believe,
perched atop this mossy branch;
legs swinging beneath us?
I want to pretend
this is an execution.
It’s a struggle to fit the
loop over my head then
tighten the knot near my pulse.
I tie off the other end
***** black toothed smiles
grinning underneath my nails.
Do you have any last words?
Yes, but they will be written
and safety pinned to my shirt.
Deep breaths, steady nerves, steely guts.
The familiar lurch in my stomach
from free fall rises in my diaphragm.
A snap, an involuntary spasm
and then the rediscovery
of blissful, childish ignorance.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 4:09 AM UTC
your words
a wondrous pipe
a windy weapon
of pure persuasion
how they manage
to uncoil me
thoughtlessly
tantalized in your tune
moony-eyed fakir
you flout me
with your fairy flute
You think
I am only just
mesmerised
but when
I ****** my gaze
forward at you
I mean to ensnare
your soul
the way your silver tongue
has poisoned
mine.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 3:48 AM UTC
Ecstatic in the sea breeze,
a magnanimous moment of
interloper pride ******* the day.
Uncoil—my heart, my chin,
my unglamorous abstinence
enforced by fear.
This is no lapse, but fury
and fortitude forging me
in the crucible of love.
Yet again I am up against it—
the stage of floating eyes and
overcooked feelings pawing
at my attention like
squids in a pool.
Ink and jelly in a room temperature soup
swirling and sloshing under
the authority of a rented room.
By gods, this time I’ll make it work—
plant leaves and blunderbusses
leaning against teal paint,
the sun really is on a fishhook.
Stand apart from me then and
judge the waters for what they are—
a storm too small to surface
in a sky too big to swallow.
I’m sweating in it
and the alarm clock is going off.
*bleet
bleet
bleet*
Too deep to turn back.
Too tired to go on.
This is where the end begins,
in the middle of it
with no ground at all.
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 7:47 PM UTC
In boots without holes,
And a soul whole,
I’m ready to roll
Into an infinity of possibilities and eccentricities of simplicity.
I feel fit you see,
To dive head-on into a new song while the melody remains unwritten.
I’ll uncap, uncurl and uncoil into this scoreless spring of my existence,
Keeping an ear to the ground for hints from a distance,
Rejoice in my own valiance of overcoming that dark beast.
I am the animal, unleashed!
And I shall place my cautious paw in spaces where only good has strode before.
Short of saying more:
I feel set free, at ease and eager to please.
From my head to my knees I feel able to achieve dreams I am yet to conceive.
And all this from release!
Relinquish and re-grow!
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 7:19 PM UTC
Hades 12
Grrrr! I am the Nemosaur!
Nemosaur ************
Gonna eat you alive and **** the marrow from your bones.
I'll bight off your toes like munching sweets.
**** your brain outa your skull, slowly.
Bit by bit you cease to exist.
Eaten alive by the Nemosaur.
What bit next?
Vertebrae squash time till your two feet tall, a ****** dwarf meal.
All mine!
Nemosaur is hungry.
Slowly I cut into your fat belly and drink milky white fat.
Then I uncoil your intestines bit by bit, I can taste your last meal.
Yum!
Now the insides.
Jun 25, 2022
Jun 25, 2022 at 12:44 AM UTC
Jealousy.
I don’t like to say the word.
I dislike the shape of her.
The way she dips and curves—
she ends on a self-assured slant
as if to imply that you’ll be back for more.
Nothing sweet to offset her bitter bite
as her slimy saltiness rolls over your tongue.
She seeps into each and every open crevice.
To resist her is useless—
she’s designed to commandeer.
Your mouth will only produce words
soaked with her disdain.
It's no secret you're at her mercy
as you watch another’s fingers
run through his hair.
If you have teeth, grit them.
If you have fists, clench them.
Narrow your gaze until
her green vines uncoil and twist through
your arms, your legs.
A cartographer crafting
a brand new map of veins
pumping something stronger than blood.
Your misery is her victory,
and she makes no promise
to quiet her celebration.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 8:34 PM UTC
streets feel like (with youth crisp faces
dotting them and dainty hands splayed
round tea cups sitting 'neath umbrellas
or walking gently peels with abrupt
naked unlank thighs in Spring(thank
goodness for; who draws from tightly
foiled skin the needing for freshness
air and luminous colours))Girls who
on trim agile calves
awkwardly noble
uncoil languorous legions of flesh
Apr 21, 2012
Apr 21, 2012 at 7:55 PM UTC