"uncracked" poems
The moon sways
down the sun’s half eye
for it every mo
is the elephant is in the room
before the sun zooms out
deep down from the pi.
Magic is uncracked within
that first light breaks out
dawns in the eternal night
is a shiny tear in the speechless
witness’ open eye,
on the tight lips, deep runner silent pi!
Men on the painstakingly polished circle
may have hewn out riveted eyes.
Up more is set free deep down the pi,
bottom in anew, in open paradise!
Feb 5, 2022
Feb 5, 2022 at 11:29 PM UTC
I think of you
A collapsing star
Your pain like the day the world began
So powerful
Your mind like
The day it will end
Scalding pure.
My heart is like a furnace tonight
Blue white
And my bones are full of rainwater
Cold now
But heating up
Shame
For all my shrieking
I am whole
Like an egg
Uncracked
I do not think anything
Grows
In here
But the shell
Is smooth
And that seems to count for something.
Still
I am buried
And the soil above me
Churns—
The skitterings of beetles
Something with wings that whir.
I grip the door frame
That dark mouth
And wonder if I am coming to life
Or leaving it
I am iron
A tea kettle starting to boil
It sings and screams
And hisses out a thread of steam.
The burns slide up my arms like little snakes.
And yet you are here
Still
Here like a sun
Calling the blood in my veins
And it answers
Pounding—
It would rather be with you than me.
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 3:13 AM UTC
Talent.
So so Far I've seen the talent-less and the talented
**** heads until their skulls cracked and we peered in
and saw a garden growing green leafy creativity
Gallantly trotting across the right brain like the breezy morning wind
And as we looked away and declared the winner had won
but cracked his skull on the stubborn brick wall
the talent-less had spun
out of hard jealousy and mortar crafted from their own lack of self discipline
The sun even sighed
died for a second
then came back alive only to find the talentless
still forrunning their forte
up every frigid full soul he found on his way
So the days saddened into rainy Saturdays
19 in a row
with the downpour too vicious to even kiss on the cheek as a pity way of putting across that
"you should really go"
the rain rained down boulder sized bouts of concentrated creative energies
only able to be ****** up by sponges with cracked skulls
and thus made into uncracked skulls
mended skulls
Talented unabridged uncensored skulls
that may drown out the talentless
just like the rain and storms tried to muster a try at
And by that we only see the talented come out walking with rain pouring Into their brains
getting ****** up by extracorpus veins
Not because they were born with contraptions
but because they avoided distractions
and gained traction in this multiverse where everything happens with struggle
and pain.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 12:54 AM UTC
head shoved in the bath
open eyes to see the porcelain
in stunning watercolour
counting
one mississippi
two Mississippi
to see the moments passing
against supposedly blurred off-white tub bottom
uncracked egg-shell backdrop of clock faces
tick mississippi tock mississippi
blinking short and long seconds
from twelve to twelve
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
“A woman needs to find a way of creating boundaries that is not a violation of her instinctual feeling of wholeness.”
daring like a ballerina
simple as a peach orchard
she loves me like a daughter
from the height of wonder
I look at her with innocence
like a mother
I teach her how to stare in the sun
to see flowers of light
the fragility of colours
and how stories happen in the dark
the hardest part is letting go of knowing
reinventing the smile
words stand there not pretending
tangible, waiting to be broken
here is everything letter by letter
cruel and demanding
like a song, like a perfume in autumn
“I lend you my fairies,
you lend me your arms”
silk embraces
uncracked choices
I follow her into laughter
She follows me into tenderness
little exchanges, attunement, failures
when to draw a line
when to plunge into circles
store fat miracles
a grasshopper is coming in
propelled by the infinite desire
“you don’t have wrinkles, mama”,
she laughs
a bird came to nest in your heart,
don’t frown, mama
let’s yell to scare baubau
"should I make it yellow?"
every day she’s mapping my honesty
giving me her burden of childhood
and we found ourselves raw and dreaming
in between hearts
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC
I was only the
girl of your dreams
because you were
dreaming of one,
taking a convenience sample
to find love.
"I just want you to know I'm not mad."
Well, I'd sure hope not,
insinuating I've done something bad
by knowing my soul and
feeling which way the wind blows.
I'll be no one's "mine,"
I'm not some thing to be had.
You will not be a proxy,
but a person to me.
Let me love you correctly
and set you free.
I am not your dream girl,
but a woman of the sea.
I fear love, so I'll have
daddy turn me into
a laurel tree.
I need to sleep alone,
swaddled in a manger,
patiently awaiting my
frankincense and myrrh.
I am an egg uncracked,
leave me be
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
The breeze isn't cool
The breeze is now cutting
It stings like a bee
It slices like a knife
This love isn't pure anymore
It's uncracked eggshells
Oysters that never opened
Expired dairy products
The air isn't filling anymore
There's no clarity
Just beautiful sunsets because of carbon emissions
And oceans full of waste
Friendship isn't real anymore
There's Facebook and Twitter and Instagram
I may have over 1,000 friends
I may have less than 5
Nothing is comprehensible anymore
There's only confusion and anguish
Scribbled notes and blurry polaroids
It's hopeless
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 12:32 AM UTC
If these fingers touched ink,
let what flows be
untainted and true;
unsmeared and sure.
If these hands mould clay,
let what is made be sturdy.
Be uncracked,
unblemished
and smooth like porcelain.
If this body pivots upon legs,
let it stand upright and tall.
So no wind could fell it down.
But should it topple,
let no earth will it shatter.
If this mind invites another,
let no thought nor idea
adulterate its own...
For its ways may wind
and meander,
but it is obstinate.
If this heart still beats,
no matter how faint...
Let its rhythm be steady
and unrelenting.
So it might echo
through long days
and moonless nights
to find others like it.
Then,
I may not feel so alone.
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 2:20 PM UTC
I woke up an uncracked knuckle
Left the house late
Arrived early
My coffee shop closed
For good this time
The new tenants tried to sell me
On Reggae Dancercise
They explained they’d still have coffee,
A small conciliation.
I saw my sister, sat with her child
He ate cupcakes & distrusted me
For my gluten intolerance.
She is unimpressed with poetry
My sister, she falls for a Friday
I sit on a street in NoLita
It is wind-swept, as am I.
Wondering at this moment
When the next time I will
Touch hearts with another will be...
Not on this street
If today.
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC
Help me
before I
fall apart
Help me
if I
fall apart
to pick
up the
pieces
Help me
before I
fall apart
Help me
if I
lose some
of me
to find
it again
Help me
before I
fall apart
Help me
stay whole
and uncracked
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 11:01 AM UTC
once a bell has pealed,
can it be unpealed?
once liberty is cracked,
can it be uncracked?
once one is loved,
can one be unloved?
once something breaks,
can it be unbroken?
once a light has been lit,
it can be unlit
then re-lit.
once a crack opens,
once a break occurs,
once love falls,
the Light gets in.
c. 2017 Roberta Compton Rainwater
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 3:05 PM UTC
O, Prescient Ewe
That knows where to stand
Avoids ambivalent hand
That bore this world
Of life’s command
To bear its high demand
O, Precocious Hen
Knows when not to lay
A life down in the hay
A babe unborn,
Uncracked, unraised
Unknown to her dismay
O, Prodigal Mare
Beware not to sprain
Or you will bear the strain
Though not for long
You’ll be for this plain
Where retired mounts are lain
O, Impassioned Pig
Whose fattening
Welcomes a fatter thing
Wash away
The amber glaze
Chase not the dangling
O, Prescient Ewe
Return to me
What is it you see?
Be sure it is
What’s to come
Not what you wish it be.
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 6:24 AM UTC
You scrub away the blood,
And wipe away the dirt,
And put on a clean, free expression,
Pretend you're unhurt,
You convince yourself relentlessly,
That you're okay, you're fine,
That you don't swallow your sobs,
You've got a smooth, uncracked design.
You don't cry yourself to sleep each night,
You're as happy as can be,
You're not yearning and pleading,
I wish I was anyone but me...
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 6:02 AM UTC
In morning, he is divided and pried from the dream
Confronted by the next plaster gray View-Master day.
He lingers on his traditional half of the bed, teetering
Then ventures across the deafening, empty apartment
Where the dust accumulates like hourglass sand
Blanketing, bit by bit, over sedimentary plans
And archeological troves of screaming bones
In a vast, derelict desert of vestigial space
Towards a wardrobe of aborted echoes.
There he peruses his potential noms du jour
The coats of people he could have been
Knowing most of them no longer fit.
He settles on his most generic pronoun.
He performs his penance to the Tao:
He is each domino just as it tips
He is becalmed
He is amid still waters
He is a ship without wind
He is a captain without a ship
He is a bouy on the waves
He is one last minute
Treading water
He is another last minute
He is the dragging current
He is the inflection of breath
He is the mooring of the moment
He is the stone in the coat pocket
He is the coveted numbness of now
In evening, he recoagulates and retires
Resigned to eat the tail that eats itself
Consummating one more centrifugal lap.
He remembers Sisyphus must be happy.
He watches through his dizzy window
A caterpillar spewing up a second womb.
It will be the last monarch butterfly
But he avoids the finality of the situation,
And in his mind, any ensuing hurricanes.
He buries himself in stale anticipation
Beneath slowly overflowing drawers
And trash bags piling up in hallways
Where he stores expiring fortune cookies
Whose pearly secrets he leaves uncracked
For want of a friendly sweet tooth
To bite the bullet for him
Because he can't today.
Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 8:48 PM UTC
You used to be the harbinger of disdain
I thank you deeply for unfurling my blemishes to all
Apprehension followed me around every bend
Doubting my own moral ambiguity
At war with all around
Now pushing to break me down
Persistence shall be my armor my confidant
Never become a token on that vile board
How cynical as the blemishes evaporate
I am no longer an ingrate
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
Thanks for putting me in this place,
I'm holding myself up between the walls
as the water rises
It's up to my waist
I'm up to here with your lack of effort
Yeah, I'm motioning to my head
Toss me a buoy, would you?
At least give me an explanation
I'm sick of being wrung-out,
searching for a reason
Just tell me why or what
or something about this,
you uncracked enigma
-cj
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
It's comic and tragic,
The cycles,
The ups and downs.
Sometimes the devil wins,
Sometimes I do
(But usually it's him).
I'm tired of these
Unnecessary spells of
Unceasing torture, they
Leave my
Body racked, and
Levy a terrible toll
On my mind.
"Crack!", they say.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
God I want a boring life. Nice Apartment in a big city. One cat. One dog. Big den, full bookshelves on every wall, comfy chair. A bottle of ***** a week, two bottles of tonic. A couple cigarettes, maybe a pipe, I tried one of those. The smell is better than the taste. Fireplace. Snow. My dream job that pays 80 thousand a year. enough to afford that faux quaint apartment and keep me in books. I'll get bored, I just know it. **** I've got no clue what I want.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 2:14 PM UTC