"unexpecting" poems
beyond Montana’s yellow lines
there is a field
~a field of painted soles
and laces rubber tread
~a field of ****** curls
and fallen headlights
where kaleidoscope lenses
look onto twisted frames like origami halos
where teddy bears hug stop signs like pickets
fringed in anger
runaway childhoods sleep cautionary tales
beyond Montana’s blushing acne
there are red cup melodies
blasting from blacked out tints
weaving blues notes through Rock & Rap
distant cries are drowned by Bass
or maybe Bud (light)
a haze of teenage eyes
they might as well be ghost riders
whip game copped from GTA
these pubescents are a Vice to their City
blooming sidewalk sloths
like flowerbeds
beyond Montana
is a country of bar stools
where bar tenders play therapists
and therapists play coroners
precedents are shots of whiskey - taken to the head
and reflected in flooded eyes
beyond Montana
is a country of MADD mothers and SADD students
beyond Montana
is a country of unexpecting pedestrians
beyond Montana
is a field
~a field of wing-clipped snow angels
That field is Mariah's home now
and she challenges you to change
yourself
your friends
your country
she challenges you to
STOP DRUNK DRIVING
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
**@@@
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** |||| **
XXXX |||| XXXX
XXXXXX |||| XXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
ON THE UNEXPECTING
A BOMB IS SET IN
WAIT • IT CAN
SHATTER ANYONE
RICH • POOR • SMALL
OR GREAT • THERE IS
METHOD TO ITS EVIL
THERE IS FALLOUT IN
ITS WAKE • THERE IS
|NO RECIPROCATION|
THERE IS NO GIVE "N
TAKE • THERE IS ONLY
SELF-OBSESSION THE
BOMB OF POISON KIND
IT'LL MESS 'ROUND IN
OUR BODY IT'LL MESS
AROUND WITHIN THE
MIND • HAVE A FUNNY
FEELING CRAZY BUT IT
|BE TRUE • THE LOVE|
BOMB DROPPED IS A
NARCISSIST AND
GROUND 0 IS
YOU**
SoulSurvivor
(C) 7/20/2016
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 11:22 AM UTC
She was like a loaf of bread
Unexpecting and unafraid
She didn't expect him to cut into her
Severing her from the feeling of being whole
She also didn't expect for him
To plaster her with sweet honey and jam
He filled her with so much sugar,
But his sweetness was a simple distraction
How could she have known he would consume
The delicious treat he made of her
Only to tire of the taste
And allow the rest to go to waste ?
Though there is such tragedy do not fret,
There is still beauty there in every crumb
He may have taken her apart
But now her next love will have room to overflow
She is the most desired pastry of all
She turns her crumbs into cake
The delicious treat she makes of herself
Will never go to waste
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 11:12 PM UTC
There's a peculiar feeling about emptiness.
Like hundreds of misshapen rocks
Have all been carelessly dumped
Into the cavity which should hold
My red, pulsing heart.
It's not obnoxious
Or tangible,
But it lurks somewhere right beyond
I love you
And I miss you
And I don't care.
Like termites slowly devouring
An old pewter coffee table
Left on the corner in front of a tall
Decaying townhouse.
The legs slowly deteriorate,
Revealing their soft fleshy wooden insides.
There's no warning sign for this kind of
Isolation.
No tell tale symptoms
Or home made remedies
Of honey and camomile.
Flashing neon lights
Flicker and fade into the
Heavy night.
And symmetrical posters
Don't illuminate the pathway to loneliness like they should.
Instead,
It just creeps up on you when you're least expecting it,
Between casual conversations
And vulnerable moments of passion.
You can't stop it,
Or push it into a corner
The way you can with guilt
And premeditated promises.
It's too disfigured to be shut away in a symmetrical closet
Or empty dining room.
It's the absence of understanding,
The congested feeling in your lungs
And heart
And stomach,
That comes when you suddenly realize
No one understands.
It's unpredictable in that way,
The sudden realization,
There's no telling when it will spring upon an unexpecting moment,
And devour the innocence of longing.
But when it happens,
When your whole world feels frozen,
Stagnant and stuck between the cracks of reality,
And covered with a thin veil of dust
And failure,
When your throat is dry and chalky,
Full of almost there sentences
That dance in the chaos of your desperation,
You'll know.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 11:57 AM UTC
A small slow creak and a shadow peeks,
Behind an unexpecting corner.
You close your eyes, but to your surprise when you open,
The shadow is gone,
But a presence you can sence around every turn,
The conditions right in the dead of night with a
fierce howling wind,
And soon you realize through sloppy tears the danger is swiftly drawing closer!
Creak.. Creak... Creak!
The lump in your gut, seemed to force you out of your frozen rut.
The edrenelin took over then!
Relying on touch for your eyes were usless from crying too much.
The beat of your heart stretched from your ears to your feet.
Your arms flailed and your feet flew,
But still you felt the hot breath on your neck it was
the end you just knew.
A nervous tremor in your leg threw you forward right onto your back.
Instantly your eyes traveled to the onyx bulbs of death that stared you down,
Cloaked completely in black.
As he reached a boney hand around your throat,
It didn't matter you couldn't breath either way,
Just when you could see the light of savior...
It spoke...
The most sinister slither slid out of his covered lips "I'll see you in hell." A small smile was then visible through his mask.
From sheer fright I gasped my last breath of air, and out of the strangest things to cross my mind all I could think is 'goodnight.'
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 10:08 PM UTC
Jump and glide across moon-still open waters,
Pass with ease through mind-made vacuous quarters,
Electrocute the most unexpecting still seas,
Ignore all pre-learned rules, erase all sensibilities.
Do not cease to migrate from thought
Unless your life is lost, forever stretched, forever taut,
Dance together, forever floating higher,
Drive you like a sober high from which you never tire.
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 4:20 PM UTC
1917
1920
1930
1940
1950
1960
1970
1980
1990
2000
2013
short life
to make an impact
on this trivial human existence
long enough
to pull rivers of tears
from my unexpecting eyes
Waarom zijn je huilen?
Ik weet het niet.
Ik hou van jou.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
With just a few words
you crush me to smithereens
taking and taking without giving
anything in return
Even as something in my chest
collapses
Even as I feel my walls crumble
nothing can halt the sting of hurt
that follows you
You handle words like a double-edged
blade
a prodigy in the art of inflicting
pain
Spitting acid into the air between
it collects beneath my flesh and
eats away at me from within
So I summon shields of wintery smiles
and icy eyes
in the futile hope it will ensconce
bandaged bruises
I make myself stand tall before you
unflinching
unrelenting
and unexpecting.
-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 11:04 AM UTC
He hit her.
Fist to face, he hit her.
She bit the taste of blood from her tongue and inner cheek
And stared at the freak who beat her
A man she once loved enough to consider vows
The father of her child, once her protector now she can't be protected from him.
He hit her.
When she wasn't looking he balled a fist in his fit and swung the **** directly at her lower lip.
What is she to do when the very man who took her hand and placed a ring on her left finger, is the cause of the sting lingering on her face.
Should she tell, yell, or scream
Wake up from this dream or realize that
He hit her.
He really did but the problem is he doesn't care.
His bare balled hand to her unexpecting mouth as she sat there on the couch.
His eyes blazed with fury, her eyes glazed with tears and fear of this man who stands before her.
Sorrow surrounds her as her heart pounds and tears drown her.
Mourning is she, for the man who she thought would be her everything for eternity but...
He hit her.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
I hold these thoughts as I hold onto my infested pupils
my hands open like that of an infant in sleep
curved fingers, innocent and unexpecting of what is to come
the life
the street corners
the slum hearts
the filthy
all the ends and all the starts
the loved ones who will depart
the torn bed sheets
and the opening of evil flowers
in the dirt of small drunken conversations
the murders and the beauty
of the old burnt down houses
the strongest agonies that derive
from the simple things that once
made hearts dance in the wind
when love bathed in the sun
with its blue veins
I forget everything
to be brought back to this state
I know noting of these things
I look at life with innocent eyes
and I feel like a child again
Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 5:25 AM UTC
**You can replace me,
I'm expendable, I'm replaceable
I was a moment, you were a scene
In a movie that we developed
Of an unexpecting dream.**
The one that came with the kiss on the forehead goodnight
The one that came with the ability to calmly sleep at night
I remember...(laughing) I remember these moments
& at times I know you do too.. I know you still feel my hands in yours...I know...nothing. I can't think this through...
I know when I breath this cold air, my lungs start to freeze, but how can you convince a scared mind to tell the heart to truly see what it wants to see? Me. I know when I look up at the stars, my heart starts to beat..I knew when I heard the door open...that was you ready to leave.
I have to stop! I have to take my palms and close them into non aggressive fist, I have to stop holdin on to hope and let go of this. You told me my words were magic..Yet, I can't form a sentence to convince you of our old bliss..
(Closed eyes flashback)
"please! don't! Don't give me one last kiss." Sadly I remember this.
The horror of the knife digging deep inside me, the scar I forever walk with.
I can't live like this! and continue to survive on your leftover venom, your seduction through your captivating eyes, your temptation from the shape of your denim.
Soaked spots on the page,I know my days may get better..I just hope one day this gets to your heart, my eventually heals, I just hope you get this letter.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 12:14 AM UTC
In meditation it happens
quite often
abstract
bliss
finding its way
into an
unconscious smile.
Smiling in my sleep
begins with you
and your
lovely kindness
finding me somewhere
in my unexpecting
grateful day.
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
Lips are made for kissing, she said.
But these lips have never been kissed with the love of a savior on these dark nights
Hands are made for holding, she said.
But these hands have never been held aside from the afraid little girl sitting next to her
Hearts are made for missing, she said.
But no heart has so much as missed a beat looking for her love
Promises are made to be broken
And all of the unspoken promises hurt the most when they come shattering down like broken mirrors
So I asked her
If lips were made for kissing
And hands were made for holding
And hearts were made for missing
And promises were made to be broken
Then why do harsh words spill from my lips like scalding soup onto the feet of unexpecting victims
And why do my hands make these cuts on my very own skin as if im cutting a cake that bleeds blood as red as my sins
And why does my heart lock itself into a cage as if its a prisoner in its own mind, chain itself to my soul in an inexcapable cell
Please, tell me why the promise of pure anger, pain and suffering is left inside of me with no escape. can you tell me that.
She looked at the ground and smiled
Your lips, Your hands, Your heart and Your promises
Are those of a survivor
Cherish them, for they hold beauty unbeknownst to those who have not felt pain
But still, you were made for the purposes stated above and you must believe it.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 10:18 PM UTC
Bring to me the sweet sound and echoes of the piano
Which ring about the stands
Quietly they await the song
I start out slowly, a bit shaky at first
And I grow with power I grow with strength
With the sweet adrenaline running through my veins and my heart thump thump thumps
The beautiful sounds ringing threw unexpecting lips
And when I sing out the last word
They crowd erupts in a glorious applause
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
Morning's at my door
so I boarded up the windows
to hide in the dark light
and wait for the moon light
morning, I know she's there
I can feel it in the clean air
light a cigarette for an idea you can't protect
regret
for not kissing morning at her awake
as a stranger attend the wake
just watching her gasp for her last breath
as that sunsets
in my mind, thoughts unkind
mountains of mourning
meet in the valleys
and dance in the warm light
a desert of wondering
an ocean of drowning
the calendar has built a wall of insanity
not striving for popularity
a birthday and funeral for everyday
and somehow that's okay
Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 2:00 AM UTC
Born by the feet of the godness ,
I loved her and protect her,
Cursed I am called
Born by the head of my mother ,
He got her bénédiction and left her ,
Blessed he is said
...
Sithai , no word could describe ,
I brought her to my cavern to get her love ,
Yet her Heart yearned for him
I promised everything she might desire
the Sky ,the Moon , the Earth
She wanted him back
.
.
.
She prayed , devote , loving , peacful ,
She asked for him , nothing else
I watched and marveled
Uncorrruptible , unexpecting , faithful love
I wanted her as mine , not her body , Heart , that pure and loving one,
I wished to be the one to call it my home
I wished to print on this beautiful soul a part of mine , I wish to be hers , I just wish ....
.
.
.
Oh , here he is , judging and doubtful ,
Questioning her purity and virginity ,
He refuse to see her tears or the bleeding heart
****** fate , spiteful existence am I ?Hoping for a unfuitful love
Desiring a forbidden fruit
Love
Shall be it , destiny or mighty smither,
Do
or
Bring your mighty thunder
I will receive with open arms
But , I shall leave my mark ,
Her Mind ,
with a chaste kiss on her head
Balade on my heart , trying to take my love for her , to late Ram , I already left my mark
Ravanan must die , so be it , a blade shan't take it , heart , burning for Sithai is it ,
Ten , Thousand , Infinite need it
Oh , why cry , shedding tears for ravanan , we both don't deserve you ,
Nobody does , fadding , my time is near
...
I am sorry , I shouldn't have taken you against your will , male stupidity , I wish .... , No , I am happy enough ...
Sithai may remember me , she could think about this ravanan , so selfish to the end as males are ...
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 4:02 AM UTC
Somewhere in the deep ocean
there is a tremor, a shake,
the initiation of something
intensely destructive and cruel.
The waves move away from him in giant
ripples from where the underwater plates
crash and collide with his dark body,
sparking up and exploding
away from him, from each other.
He holds the earth together
until the shaking strain
corrupts his limbs
and he shudders, sending jagged
shockwaves through the earth
and into the inky water
surrounding him, out
towards the unexpecting land.
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 3:22 AM UTC
In present times the world is filled up,
Like a crazy cartoon with characters that build up,
A new hope for an inadequate concieved pup,
Be wary of the real undead whose hearts that still pump,
They live and breathe and talk in their pin ups,
Like the crimson they seek to fill up
Their stomachs of ego will still thump,
Unto the light of the unexpecting machine clump,
Running on programs of unending ****
That is, what they think, for they forgot the time that they believe is up,
They too are humans that are machine dumps.
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
Isn’t it funny how fate works? You think you have it all planned out--no problems--no quirks.
Isn’t it funny how fate works? One moment in time can cause either the joy or pain of a lifetime.
Isn’t it funny how fate works?
Can’t fathom how it happened or why? Fate is funny that way---sometimes keeping out of the view of the naked eye. Isn’t it funny how fate works? A stranger or maybe someone you have always known--can bring you the happiness you never had, but wanted so, so bad-everyday living your life with sadness--not to include the other mental madness. Isn’t it funny how fate works? It can be Karma’s good twin. The twin that will always let you win. That can show you how to let happiness and love in again. Isn’t it funny how fate works?
It pokes at you. Or, it might just smack your face. It shows you things that you have been blinded to. Things that you tried to pay no mind to.
Isn’t it funny….fate, the dealer of life’s deck of cards. You--the unexpecting gambler who normally doesn’t take chances.
But, you take that chance and allow fate to let the cards fall where they may. Fate will faithfully guide you to your proper place---where your destiny lies. Where happiness is a daily thing---all sadness fades away.
Where you can become the person you have always wanted to be. The person who let fate and destiny lead the way.
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 8:45 AM UTC
What's next? She asked
A wicked smile sliding into place
She was a viper
A wild thing
Bright eyes alert
Sinking fangs into sinking hearts
Her victims unexpecting
A (black) widow by choice
Devouring men for breakfast
What's next? She asked
Ready to strike
She had alterior motives
A variety of self serving angles
Oh, she's a killer
She's destructive in nature
Skilled at creating chaos
An unnatural disaster,
Why can't you look away?
She's your saving grace
When you're hanging from a cliff
Oh, how she loves to watch them fall!
Who's next? She pleaded
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 8:30 PM UTC
I love the way you put your stupid
hipster glasses on the collar of your
band t-shirts to fix your straight yet
messy brown hair that you haven't
washed in a week with a thick black
hair tie that you hate to wear on your
wrist when you don't need it because
it's so bulky so you put it in your front
pocket next to two strips of emergency
gum and a can of altiods which you
finish in a day and replace at night
I love when you air guitar in the
middle of Froyo Joe's most likely to a
song on The Front Bottoms CD you're
playing on your Walkman you got at
that one thrift store and everyone
stares at you then stares at me staring
at you, smiling and laughing so much.
And I love how you bow in the most
exaggerated way that anyone could
ever possibly bow because you air
guitared so impressively (you should
definitely start yourself a band) that
the unexpecting audience applauded
you for that marvelous performance
which definitely made their evening
And I love the way you look at me in
the train car when you're dragging me
to the next town because you finally
have enough money to go to the little
store that has the same name as that
one author you love and buy the
vintage coat that smells like moths and
depression because you want to wear
it and feel like a 1923 troubled rich
woman during an early midlife crisis.
I love when you tell me the things you
love about me at 3 a.m. in this diner
after you read to me that God-awful
poem about a woman who hates
shampoo and listens to blue grass
during all her classes and we're sitting
in this diner where all the food tastes
horribly like canola oil and salt and
I am immensely in love with you
Dec 26, 2017
Dec 26, 2017 at 7:29 PM UTC
In the crisp of morning, does edge of rest approach. For in the tents of great men do the warriors awaken in preparation for battle.
Sharpening their swords, fortifying their shields, girding their spears and dawning their armours - a crest for honour. Though amid the steadiness, do they await the word of their beloved monach.
"Sar-Shalom!" be the cries heard, echoeing upon the voices of the wind. Reaching even beyond the battlefields. The name of the monach, adored by the great men, anticipating the words to come.
Alas, wisdom comes on the voice of the wind: "In the vallies, will you victories come". Bewildered they stood, asking themselves "why?" But, their monach adorned in their love does their loyalty stand.
So, to the vallies do they march. Upon the word do they stand, anticipation honoured by their trust. For a hard battle will they fight, yet a grand victory will they know - a relief from their beloved.
From the peaks do they descend, and to the vallies do they arrive. The battlefield marked for honour by their seeing eyes;
Unsheathing are they ready, for the accusers come - but unexpecting are they, for the assurance declared in the meeting of blades.
The divines surrounding their accusers, is the battle endorsed for the victors. As they cut down even their final Goliaths. In the praises given up on the voices of the wind, does Sar-Shalom hear the chants - His great men, now the victories of Eden.
Now the journey do they cherish, in returning to their home. The tents of great men, now victories on the heights. What more shall be done? But to sing in glee. For the enemies borders are lost in the restoring victory.
Their wounds shall heal, and bruises shall fade, but the songs of glee shall ring out through time, eternal;
Oh, the voices of the winds chant forever "Victory in the Vallies!"
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 8:36 PM UTC
You found me last night all exposed and vulnerable, swollen.
Almost a year to the hour you found me.
I never imagined it would be you to come looking.
You found me last night
so much the same. All defenseless and unexpecting.
Strange how your subtleties led to desire again, when at first all those months ago you were neither here nor there. That telephone number I didn't recognize, that poem I forgot I wrote.
You found me last night
with a hook in my mouth
and now with slender fingers
are yanking it so as to pull
my cheek out of my head.
You found me last night.
Dec 12, 2012
Dec 12, 2012 at 7:54 PM UTC
I hold these thoughts as I hold onto my infested pupils
my hands open like that of an infant in sleep
curved fingers, innocent and unexpecting of what is to come
the life
the street corners
the slum hearts
and the filthy
all the ends and all the starts
the loved ones who will depart
the torn bed sheets
and the opening of evil flowers
in the dirt of small drunken conversations
the murders and the beauty
of the old burnt down houses
I forget everything
only to be brought back to this state
feeling like a child.
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 3:42 PM UTC