"unforetold" poems
I love too much, but not too often.
My heart gets broken, but I keep going.
I am transparent, iridescent like glass,
So when you strike with the force of a hammer you leave more than a crack.
My heart is fragile, a bird with a broken wing.
I thought you would fix it and make it continue to sing.
I stand tall and confident in all my feelings,
Something that’s scary to you who is not used to these dealings.
I feel shame for the way I am.
Feeling love and passion for you that I wish I could bury in the sand.
A treasure left for you to uncover,
Not something I should have exposed to you undiscovered.
I tend to frighten away the one my heart wants to hold,
Do you see me as crazy, uncontrolled, too bold?
I often take broken loves words and wear them as scars.
Reminders of lessons unlearned and love unforetold by the stars.
I try their words on as an outfit of choice.
If I can change who I am, maybe for once someone will appreciate my voice.
But often times it’s too late.'
My true self exposed in revelations of hate.
No matter how hard I try to mold and bend,
I can’t change who I am, I can’t please every man.
But for some reason I never stop trying.
I can never give up my mind and hearts constant fighting.
I literally drive myself insane for a chance at true love.
I let my mind run wild for an ecstasy that will never come.
Because if I am changing who I am to achieve what I was fooled to see as true,
I’m mistreating myself and I assault my love leaving it ****** and bruised.
It’s funny how the world can constantly build me high,
But it only took you to send me crashing through the sky.
And when I fell and hit the ground,
The armor I built was shattered around.
Underneath it all I could finally see,
The only thing that remained intact was the original me.
I, myself, am my greatest force of nature.
And when I try to change who I am I’m in immediate danger.
The second I wear a mask to fool someone I love,
Is the second that my love is broken, recanted, torn up.
It’s not love if I’m not myself.
It’s not true if I pretend to be someone else.
I’m done being a victim in your insecure schemes,
But I’m also done pretending I walked away perfectly clean.
Yes I am hurt, and yes I wanted our love to be,
But I won’t sacrifice myself for you I’d rather let you go free,
Because somewhere, out there, there’s someone who wants me.
All my imperfections and everything you made me see as faults,
I consider beautiful, rare, a gift to make someone’s world halt.
I’m not sorry for the way I express myself.
I’m just sorry it has to be for someone else.
I love too much, but not too often.
My heart gets broken, but I, I keep going.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 12:55 PM UTC
Gather up, all you roaming and innocent true eyed youths,
the bells that chime the maturing of years will dictate.
And our minds, even in dreaming, are flashing,overloading,constantly ON.
Burning ourselves back towards the sediment,
back towards the eve of light and the horizon’s sweet ascent,
the hope of the bettering of Man (Woman, Child, Subject, Dependent, Enemy, Statistic)
to be played out by actors unsure all over again,
Plot, attempt, market research, unlikely success, unforetold rapid decline
Walk on down that road.
Twenty-Three years of Searching and Bafflement
I still walk on down that road.
The air smelling of leaking chemicals of exported decorative garden plants
the odd fir tree to remind me of a progressive upheaval.
I’ve read about Everything, I’ve sought out Everything; I’ve tried Everything
And yet still unsatisfied.
And yet onward I trot....
Left with the only things I still enjoy doing
Reading, writing about reading and writing about life
listening to music (Both new and the old, same old...cycle ending cycle re-entering brainwaves)
Thinking about ******
and occasionally enjoying non-self centered ***
(Giving, once in a while, such unexpected joy, and who’d have thought?..)
And always at the back of my head
wondering how if I could get hooked on some supposed poisonous deity
Billfold notes stained ******* or some equally widely condemned non-popular pariah seal
And if I managed not to impoverish myself and become alienated from friends and family
And the moral majority
Then perhaps I could evolve to enjoy even that.
What is pleasure and its pursuit if not some guarantee of routine?
So I continue walking down that road.
Away, away, soon to return another day
Fresher (hardly) enlightened, the same...
and still I cannot recommend to myself
anything else but walking.
For to which valley the wise one goes, who knows, who knows......
Turn left, turn right, only the principles of geography can begin to decide fate.
(Though I would suggest bringing an umbrella, every now and again, just in case....)
To search for others, who would bring a chance of difference, on that self-same route
who share jokes about this one man...
Who was walking down that road.
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 9:15 AM UTC
A midnight ship with silver sails
And hoisted flags with scarlet tails
Is whisked by winds of golden gales
Descending from the skies above.
And though the decks are wet and soaken,
Still the hull is swift and oaken
So the course remains unbroken,
Trailing wakes of turtledoves.
With storm departed, then no sooner
Comes, unseen, a pirate schooner
Neath the nighttime, light and lunar,
Pouncing with a push and shove.
Though hope seems lost, a cyclone saves
Dispersing foes and other knaves
With frothy foamy ****** waves
Which strike like leaden leather gloves.
Secured, the ship has safely landed
- Left behind, the pirates stranded -
Passers-by are smiling candid,
Knowing not the worth thereof.
For hidden in the wooden hold
Is treasure bursting unforetold
- Far more than diamonds, thyme and gold -
It brings unbound a brother’s Love.
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 11:13 AM UTC
False heroism and modern mythology
Have constructed a malignant effigy
Of ourselves for our future
An unforeseen result, unforetold in scriptures
What is to come,
Will surely cause harm
All of our deeds
Will soon make this flesh bleed
Environmental neglect
Only does reflect
All these actions done by us to
Our own lives and future
What is said in all scriptures
But who's to care?
False patriotism and political plots
Dividing and devouring
All mankind and their morals
This is what man does in form of plural
Against nature they race with rifles
Sympathetic man is reduced
To extinction with his feelings induced
By hypocritical acts produced
In support of his wanton he's adduced
And his sorrows, overproduced.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
Though it's only been a short while I've never had a friend like you
But soon you will be leaving me
And I don't know what to do
Your love and understanding
Have brought me a new hope
I wish that I could keep you here
Tied to me with a rope
Why do you choose to leave me?
I ask with confusion and pain
Don't let me go back to feeling alone
When will I see you again?
The miles soon stretched between us
What will happen to this bond?
Will we reunite to find
That this special tie is gone?
So many questions I have
My heart filled with fear
Dreading you will leave me
And never shed a tear
Unlike this desperate aching
In my heart that won't let go
Which leads me now to tell you
Something you must know
The friendship you have given me
The joy you bring my soul
Has filled me with such strength
And love once unforetold
How can it be so short?
This time we've spent together
I thought you would remain here
And love me 'til forever
Sadly, wishful thinking
As I now have come to see
But remember please this thought
When you think of me
We may soon be separated
But I'll remember, just the same
Forever in my heart
Is where you will remain
I wish that when you leave
We'd remain the best of friends
You'll be in my thoughts
'Till I see you again
How can I say goodbye?
No words, but just tears fall
From my eyes and sobbing heart
That knows you after all
The hours spent together
Will soon dwindle down to few
Forcing me to let go
And start this year anew
Without you here to talk to
Searching for a friendly face
That knows all too well
They can never be replaced
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 10:06 AM UTC
Haunted by you, Keats
lost in my Autumn days' revel
I reach for '' dull'' rhymes
to chain my English with their wiles
wondering if you'd bow down
before the poets of performance & free verse
or else lament the passing of the days of old
the Seasons are still changing,
true weather is ever unforetold
few write of Greek myth now
& Chatterton is all but forgot
in this new England
where the spoken word is more favored
than the blessed page
& ever stranger tastes invade
& seize the poet's lyre
I, being but a traveller unto
this land can but aspire
to touch it with my verse
before you, Keats, I bow down
to your ' Eve of St Agnes', sonnets
to your ' Endymion'
I read you & am seized by song
Oh bright star of poets,
listen - may you ever reign!
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
A reproof of scarlet riviera
darken its seance that acclaim unforetold entrance
of lactose hence virtual lecture,
edifice with preponderance in guidance if hesitation
ready hinders them entertained by inordinate *** and
whether garish is gruesome for glutenesque and
intricately hard to maintain as their distraction is subliminal
that pain is debilitating and overwhelming in modern lifestyle.
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 7:41 AM UTC
[attempts at Shakespearean sonnet form]
If spring is daylight dawning on the night,
Then you are March's unforgiving snow;
When time of year has come for evenings bright,
You are the clouded sky which eastward blows.
With rolling thund’rous clouds you come to rest
Upon the blameless springtime of my heart;
And wither baby blossoms in my chest,
Unwelcomed winter snowing ‘gainst its part.
Caught in the wake of unforetold advance,
I’m naked and defenseless with you there;
Prepared for longer days of spring romance,
I'm burned by icy tempest of your air.
But snow knows not what time of year he falls,
It is but chance of when the weather calls.
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 4:07 PM UTC
The city offers me nothing
but mortal mortar and soulless stone.
Destiny summoned me here:
to Nature, my forgotten home.
We voted against a union
and were met with derision
For all whom had hailed
a vengeful decision.
Within the distant dreams
of a broken ghostly soul.
His cryptic mind's silver lining
Weaving a fable left unforetold.
My inner voice is translucent
with rays of light, shining through
like a silhouette over water.
Echoes over my hometown
A fleeting feeling amidst the cold.
You said something, but
Your words meant nothing.
Shadows over Leningrad
Shostakovich's theme.
Shadows over Sochi
A conservative dream.
"Thou shalt not give into the gimmicks."
"An urban fox as a metaphor for societal shunning."
"Commerica & Collaborative Chaos"
"A Friendly Fascist"
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC
When l inhale,
there is something inside me,
growing like a garden flower,
the sweet air l breath,
its spreading over the ribs,
the fresh air feels like Eden,
maybe its love ,
sprinkled from your inner heart to my being.
When i inhale,
there is a place l feel like l am in,
full of beautiful dreams and visions ,
cant u hear the lovely songs l feel ,
l have already started to walk ahead of my dreams,
giving pleasure to every lovely vision,
flying without win
maybe its your heart
a place of my imagination .
When l inhale,
l feel like you were there to gimme breath,
holding my ribs when l breath out,
feeling the soft touch of your hands,
and your kisses on my neck,
being my inhaler when l am suffocating,
making my dream complete,
thus you sitting on my lap to eternity.
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 4:15 AM UTC
i don't know yet
what is going to happen next
but right now
i would really love it
if someone would hold my hand
i would really love it
if someone would
- i daresay -
'complete' me
i cringe at that
and yet
i am finally at a place
where i do not hate everything
about myself
i am finally at a place where
i do not look in the mirror
and cry
i don't know
where i go from this place
but it would be great
if i could move forward
beside someone who cares
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 12:34 AM UTC
Slender fingers slide with a passion years had temporarily forgotten.
As they grow ****** they recall the wars they fought in.
Calluses of past battles:
The “Iron Man” they stood beside.
The “Smoke on the Water.”
How it all seemed like a “Rainbow in the Dark.”
Have faded.
Strings have grown dusty and settled.
But this will last no more.
Set this paper down and hold your hands out.
These fingers are cold.
They require the warmth of friction.
And they yearn for the dopamine filled embrace of inspiration.
Let these words be your temporary crutch.
When each letter entwines between your fingers,
Don’t fear it.
That feeling spreading through your chest right now,
Don’t lose it.
It may be something you’ve suppressed somehow,
But your rosy cheeks speak loudly.
Now,
Let the words speak to you and respond with your melodies.
Each word becomes a note,
Each note a riff,
Each riff a song,
Each song another
Way for you to shine like the galaxy you really are.
You will not burn out on my watch.
Rather I will watch as you burn ever brighter.
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC
Gold sun sets, its rays blindly flashing
The colors painted on a barren sky
Its beauty unforetold, nonexistent matching
Too magnificent for naked eye.
Horizon covering its art once clear
The sunset's melted away.
No matter what, do not fear
It will return another day.
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 12:47 AM UTC
Gods expectorant unfrocking priests
Heavens elixir epitomising the broken lamp of truth
Purging the liasing humours of bane angels
Enlightening deaths harbinger conjuring berevity
Under colour of nothingness as shadows birth
Unabated yonder the gate of unfoldenment
Billowing illuminous damnation as
Black as thunder unforetold expelling
Transgressions red-letter day, conquested
Deciduously in the teeth of the wind
Extinguishing hand over fist corrupt valedictorianism
Delving hell for levity eluding the copious
Breaking butterflies on the wheel
Of righteousness conspiring as sure as
God made little apples to show
The vale cloven hoof woe betide
The tope of man friday
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 8:12 PM UTC