"uncollected" poems
Shadows creep over my skin
Like the empty touch of a lovers hand.
Slowly sliding, moving barely noticed
And yet felt.
One by one people disappear.
Left is the dark spot, the cold
Black hole where they stood.
The silence screams,
And bleeds my heart.
Four, three, two
Almost gone.
How long until none?
Quietly waiting for the last to leave.
Knowing, and yet knowing it cannot be prevented.
And yet hoping it won't happen...
What does one do alone?
I will cry.
Spotlighted on a lone stage.
Dread.
History always repeats itself.
And yet this time
There's nowhere to run.
Nowhere to hide
And yet no music to face.
Where do I go?
Sit in Limbo, uncollected, forgotten trash.
Words written on my hand:
fat, ugly, stupid, ***** **** stubborn, mean, hateful,
jealous, ******* ***** hysterical, loser, selfish.
The ugly side of me.
I can't hide from it longer,
Because with no one here, there's just me.
Oct 25, 2011
Oct 25, 2011 at 7:09 PM UTC
the garbage truck didn't turn up to-day
and the neighborhood trash stunk all day
a gross smell drifted across the street
it was akin to a rotting pile of peat
the council have heard the odd gripe
they've been told that the ******* is ripe
the residential area is no perfumery
our quarter acre blocks are so stinky
we'll be forced to vacate the neighborhood
as uncollected garbage is far from good
the air is heady with stale fish and curry
vegetable matter and an assortment of slurry
it is hoped that a truck can soon be found
as we'll be decamping the area's bounds
our noses have had a harrowing time
inhaling a stench which isn't sublime
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 7:42 PM UTC
The funny thing about life is
You try and try to be a good person
A good neighbor
In a good mood
With only good things to say
But then life intervenes
With the landlord screaming
About uncollected bills
That shouldn’t exist in the first place
Of bosses ranting
That you’re lucky to be working for them
When they’re running the company into the ground
And your only compensation is a poor paycheck
That you take home to your family
So that you can afford to stay under your roof
For another day longer
And put some food on the table
For another night longer
And let’s not forget about the conservatives
Screaming at the top of their lungs
That we’ve lost our way
And that only they can save us
By bringing us back to how it used to be
News flash grenade explosion
**We are the way we are
Because we were the way we were
For far too long**
And then the conservatives parading
Their hidden agendas like they’re liberals
Pay more taxes than the government is worth
A system that’s failing to support it’s own weight
Should have it’s leg kicked out from beneath it
To quicken the fall and rise of sovereignty
Every day is a new day
And it’s how you deal with the obstacles
Placed in front of you that matters
But the matter of banging your head
On the brick wall
Trying to placate the niceties that we were
Brought up to hold so dear to our hearts
Gets out of control
I’ll grab the sledgehammer
And bash the wall down
I’ll walk around the wall
And find my own path
The one least occupied
By the masses
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 5:53 PM UTC
“Adam Kieslowski, I want to punch your face in, with all due respect.”
“Dan! Don’t do it! Don’t go there!”
“I’m gonna, do it Megan.”
“Don’t! You’ll **** him!”
I was at the point of snapping
No man scared me
The blood was pumping
Through my fists.
Mike Tyson could have
Walked through the door,
******* Gargantua
I would have got froggy for
Megan.
Silly cow could never even love me
Back, but alas, tis the work
Of lust and ******* desire.
I am by no means a good fighter
But a ***** one,
A tactician,
Teeth an’ claws are no bounds for me
******* Oedipus him if you have to
I had a bellyful of beer-shits
And I was ticking over
Idling
Thinking, teasing
Working the jaw.
The door opened and I pounced
Throwing him to the floor
I could feel Megan pawing at
My back
But it was futile
When a man is pumped, even
The God’s can’t stop him.
I threw him back against
The floor
Gritting my teeth
His lip swelled like a melon
And tears filled his
Watery eyes
“Oh my...”
“What the **** did you say, buddy?”
“Dan please...”
“What the **** you messing Megan around for?”
He mumbled, blood oozed from
Every orifice and his mouth
“Answer me!”
With that, he did something
No man expects,
He burst into tears!
Floods of tears, not just a trickle
A ****** fountain.
We nearly had to call in Moses
To do his party trick with the
Red Sea.
I let him up, as Megan’s eyes
Burned my head.
With that he ran out of door
And drove off.
Puff.
Safe to say, I now had to get
Out the room
Without Megan killing me
Multiple ways.
I didn’t return for several days
Like one doesn’t return to
And aeroplane crash site.
I saw her one day, and she
Said nothing
She came up and
Kissed me on the cheek
And walked on.
I guess Adam never
Bothered her again.
I returned home
And continued to write
And drink beer.
I didn’t think
That situation was
Too bad for my
Soul.
Nov 12, 2011
Nov 12, 2011 at 10:23 AM UTC
Fly with me
let's ride the wind
away from reality
away from the sin
Life flies past me
time is unknown
feelings are forgotten
dreams become reality
Colors are mixed
hope is uneeded
memories vivid
spirits remain uncollected
Fly with me
let's ride the wind
lie with me
in the endless sky
nothing down there matters
nothing is wrong
I am free
free in my dreams
Fly with me
let's ride the the wind
away from reality
away from the sin
Jun 16, 2010
Jun 16, 2010 at 9:56 PM UTC
I feel past
his colourless eyes
and his chapped lips.
The faded glimmer of happy memories,
too obstructed by the scars of his story,
permanent.
It's a love with the power of a storm,
strong even in the absence of rain.
I read past his unspoken words and uncollected thoughts,
and see the incisive emotions he expresses through a fragile breath,
as his current expression is just an instance of the whole he completes.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
Obedient to instinct,
I sink my teeth into your neck,
and split your jugular,
soaking you off like a stubborn label.
You're a remarkable piece of shallowness.
I startled you and you startled me.
I'll set you down on a lap of lichen,
with your two black eyes that I couldn't see,
any more than you see a window.
I was stunned into stillness,
our eyes locked and someone threw away the key.
It emptied our lungs,
it felled the forest,
shook the field,
it drained the pond.
The world dismantled and tumbled
into that black hole set of eyes.
Uncollected and unconnected,
loose leaf and blown.
I missed my chance.
I should have gone for the throat.
Blood pulses in my gut,
through your jugular, as falling snow.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
Haters
They are everywhere
They are like a contagion
Infecting everything in their path:
And that is the worst of it.
It’s not the death of morality
But the slow dying
The crumbling of it.
This is what the human condition has become:
Good people
Eroded
Worn down
By **** boring people
Boring people populating the Earth.
It’s a two faced monster
Vain
Drunk
Horrible to look at
Feasting on good looking girls
And boys
But there will come a time
When even Death will wince
At the old hags
Before taking them.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 4:59 PM UTC
In any mirrored face
the homeless sees nothing shuffling
from his favorite stores
At night they feel their wild
canine teeth
Words surfacing
uncollected in fragments and scratches
besde underdeveloped manors
in the city's growing mold
and buildings separated by dust like a ream of books
on the trail to the open west
Noise clock, sharp chiming
and unbearable
soot blackness of perpetual rain
pulsing faintly in a palsied
flow of the oppressive
heats and sounds
My sister is a forgotten composer of rebellion
given only the courage
to think her words will merely be
a droning
cello's moans
and preludes unsettled
and old
Without authority
someone might hear her
centuries too late
when few will give her a wait or wax cylinder
of words no better than it's tremorless
indentations unseen by the eyes and ears
The days of crystalized quartz
and effeminate handshakes and kisses
vacant gestures and the beautiful
view of the destitue on a warm
spring morning in the park
Oct 20, 2011
Oct 20, 2011 at 1:23 PM UTC
Of lavender, golden meshes--discerning
Goddess gargantua.
Lamp of fig tree and Roman chorus...waves crest
in a moonlit white as to knit the sultry
gown of your being.
Never once did you recant the definitions of love
and beauty, they stay and fever...dally the same
breath to deliver.
Here and there, wedged in towering hearts
they sway and splay forked flames.
You are signaled blatantly, and in
secret as holds the tolerance of those
you madden.
Venus...crash landing, riveted Xs cringe
and ripple in anticipation--marked and
moving, your children pass the ardent
thorns of beauty...clump, swell and
spill ****** roses.
You'll always seem uncollected, unstable--
your constitution's chasmic rift
claims...those you've landed upon.
They mouth love and beauty, wound and
bisected, their livelong day thrashes
to unify that breath...just to
sigh as if to say they see you.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
I have figured out the lay of the land
I should be a god
This information is worth the price of gold
For those who know it
Are you ready?
It goes like this:
Lawus Soddus (that’s Latin) has your telephone ring
When you’re at maximum pleasure
Every fool in the neighbourhood rings
About insurance
About the cat
About you
But when you are alone
And in need of someone to talk
Will they call?
No
Not one.
Of the 6. Billion. *******
Nov 18, 2011
Nov 18, 2011 at 5:51 PM UTC
hear me now as i say
pilgrimed is the image
unloosen
yourself into the wind
as i *****
for some
sense of
placeness in this
vaudeville
no more are
the birds that
sing and way past us
already seconds
in waning
is the same permeable blue
tracking up
our curved spines
and when weakened
falling at
last
as multiple
cities do -
i see a line
for a stream uncollected,
as rain
over genuflected
hills will.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 12:48 AM UTC
It's silence where we
Learn the most about
Each other, about ourselves
Words unspoken are words thought,
More potent than the
Guts of storms
It is the pain and power of the
Sound after shattered glass
Strewn about the floor
Unspeaking
Stares
Necessity beckoning
Broken pieces into
Trash bins
Uncollected memories
Ignored bites of information
Transforming into
Ghosts and whispers
Self-willed inanimate
Matter
Creating and destroying
Us
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 1:03 AM UTC
Lifting my eyes from the book, from the tightly sequenced lines
to the full and perfect night:
Oh how like the stars my buried feelings break free,
as if a bouquet of wildflowers
had come untied:
The upswing of the light ones, the bowing sway of the heavy ones
and the delicate ones' timid curve.
Everywhere joy in relation and nowhere grasping;
world in abundance and earth enough.
Rainer Maria Rilke---Uncollected Poems
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 1:56 PM UTC
i want this I need it
I want this i need it no
I want this I need it not
(no)
i want this i need it now oh god i need it now please listen hear my
i want this-i need it now to breathe to feel to see to come and conquer
let my life be known and uncollected (travesty)
well everyone's higher i go lower
i run the race just a little bit slower
dance on and dance on and dance on
spiraling circle heed my witness now
dancing on to the night from dusk till dawn
everybody dances everybody does it why don't you why don't you just do this for once
tryittrytrytrydancing
you'll love it
circle wheel's broken mother
i can't fix it no
longer
but i try
so hard
dance on into the wind
how am i supposed to love this if the benefits don't come to me
i can not go to my own environment and expect this to come to be
for me for whatever i am stop everyone stop trying to tell me
i don't want to be in this race this environmental stimulation
(oh god hear my)
i no longer want to be labeled stamped thrown in a box and shipped
no matter how far away no matter how many tears
dance on dance on spinning circle
christ it is the little things that soothe or stab
(take a nab at it, eh boy?)
please
you just don't understand how no matter what
you will not understand
fightdancelovefightdancelove/circleroundsmile
i scream a silent scream in(two) the mist
eh boy
little boy
so much to learn
i am done being labeled)
little
boy
little
i was little....
once
please
hear my everything
i pine away i pine away i am most definitely pinning away
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
My cogitation suffers inside
Pleasured by neglected infections.
I will damage your insides
Leave you naked and misdirected
Naturally Im taught to take what's mine
Leave emotions uncollected.
Push aside honest lies, unfaithful dreams,
You die inside every time you fail to speak.
Im the darkness you love
The disaster you carelessly seek
The trouble you need,
The obsession that initiates your thoughts to bleed
Lets leave our fantasies to be teased
Beg for the sin of love on our knees.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 8:40 AM UTC
Expect no pity as you fall and fall
Weighed down by the medals you gave yourselves
Through your closed loops of self-congratulation
In your officers’ clubs and private planes
You led us from the sky and from the rear
Secure in air-conditioned bunkers sealed
Against pollution by heat and dust and rot
And the uncollected bodies of the dead
Expect no pity as you fall and fall
Weighed down by your accumulated wealth
Through your closed loops of self-congratulation
In boardrooms and governments and private planes
You sacrificed us for your resumes -
You’re out of single-malt; now go away
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC
It is June. Plaridel is in sepia, or leaden – whichever,
this is the leitmotif.
Soon clouds with jettison a plodding swathe of
water. You will wear the petrichor,
While a ramshackle of a passing tricycle
whelms a throbbing orchestra of junk.
Here is the hearth that rears no fire:
a mother, children in tow – a troika,
on a cart not even close to ease of
a hurtling thing. Trees naked in vulnerable
green – the verdigris carried by a
miniscule Maya.
Here comes again, the neighbor peering through
the nuisance, is alarmed, eyes like a fugitive,
curses my mother – I grab the nearest, sharpest
object available that was my own hand.
Ingrained deep within, a root – or a stone, among many
other stones in me, this salt-well, a savingslight of turning wave
that is almost an approximate oceanview in me.
Gnarled over the longest time. In here we soothe by
gin, passing out in front of our gated homes,
singing whatever was available, close to our pitch.
Somewhere, Windsor has lost the poem / critiqued by
a mirror fecundating a smeared image, a blot.
A Rorschach was it, or just a day dazed they did.
Somewhere, this is scattered. Uncollected. To make remnants
of as evidence, not to investigate if true.
The 6th body of this is what I am speaking of in glossolalia.
A requiem leaves it stark and cold in this consummate weather.
Another piercing salvage of metal cuts the humdrum town
and unlike the sturdy mango tree, this is a collective of secret
encrypted lasting more than a life.
It is June. Plaridel has ripened from the expired summer.
Perchance the exquisite promise is sweet, holding all the bitterness together,
ready to fall, at last.
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 10:22 PM UTC
When someone dies their thoughts
Die with them,
Their bones absorb their words-
After a summer others cease to remember,
We fade and then are gone.
Each person is replaced:
Vast cities shrink becoming grass-beaten mounds,
Shining cultures wither,
Their intricate palaces shatter,
Temples decay under interminable suns,
Religions flounder, sacrificed to time.
Philosophies expire like sunlight
When night falls, wise words unravel,
Tortured by inconsequence,
Decay dripping from each syllable
Like uncollected wind-driven *******
Running down a lonely street.
In the alley the dog howls,
Amongst the discarded boxes the
Raven sings.
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 5:58 AM UTC
Insecurities building up
Only 16
under pressure
uncollected and pessimistic
and halls of empty bodies
I resign from this life
please forgive me
goodbye.
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 2:13 AM UTC
It’s such a shame
When all people have to live off is loneliness
So often they are overlooked
By people in search of the grander
The prettier
The more popular.
Everyone wants to tell their story
Or speak to someone
But we’re not all getting equal
Show and tell time.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 4:35 PM UTC
I wish I could expell
This wild beast from my chest,
This bottomless well,
Merciless tempest.
.
It roars and screams
For things it can't get:
Insubstantial dreams,
Uncollected debt.
.
And it isn't fair
That efforts mean naught;
When all is laid bare -
Love can't be bought.
.
I long and I ache,
At the mercy of fate,
Its give and take,
The cruelest bait.
.
The suffocating need
To not be alone,
Unrelenting greed,
Scathing to the bone.
.
It rakes its claws deep
Through my ribcage,
Makes me weep,
Helpless with rage.
.
Its loathsome fury,
Feral with want,
My judge and jury,
Inescapable haunt.
.
And it makes me think
That it's you I'm missing,
But it's really that link,
That has me reminiscing.
.
And I tried with such ardor
To find it once more,
But it's getting harder,
And my soul is sore.
.
Tired of hoping
And letdowns, in vain,
Tired of coping
With this constant pain.
.
If I were not godless
Surely I would pray
To finally convalesce,
To just get away.
.
Apr 16, 2025
Apr 16, 2025 at 3:32 PM UTC
the droning image before me,
a wetted silhouette hushed in loincloth.
all are tiny currents with their immediacy;
confound careless grace for warmbound sweat
of the swollen world in the heat of an uncollected moment.
dartle I may in delight of frenzy, cold air nibbling
at my feet. river runs pale in the narrow grey-faced street.
knee-deep into the water of no rain, simply a dream
of wide hours. mind you in the **** of minutes
and fine-tune this machine infected with body english;
basking in the flood of midnight – this swirling fish
in the permeable navy: a nautical breath tender in its rasp;
a trifle on the things and their undulations. remember you
in that stolen night, face to face with walls their blackened meanings
faces pining away in transit – if the plenitude of voices
in the station would merge and form a whole new world,
are we to drown in the sound and emerge mute with wonder?
I squint at the city across the balustrade, its sibilant air
of disgust – I recognize mooned tapestries and see myself
as one of the lights, the appropriate tension of hands that
have their own silences held to themselves
like how I ***** you in light.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 11:53 PM UTC
in my side
of the Earth
I was not tilted,
realized and emptied
my eyes are spigots
my mother left open to thaw
the glaciers of
supper
zenith visits the Summer
most often than the
wind blowing through the
curtain of my eyes
where I always see the dead
smidgen flowers all over
the ricefields
this measure of
tomorrow – to have been incarcerated
in the past that bears
no arms to
this very Saturday afternoon
fish breathe now
in enigmatic means
pulses of rivers
tangle joys with
naked boys of brindled youth
see once they jackknife
into a memorized depth
pellucid like my memory
of
uncollected afternoons
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC