"unguarded" poems
I will regret this in the morning
but I will do it anyway
my impulsivity often overpowers my conscience
yet I am almost always fully aware
of the decisions I make
and their consequences
I am not exactly mentally stable
but I am sane enough
to know right from wrong
yesterday from today
love from lust
although sometimes I mix them up
I have a tendency to lunge at any pair of arms that open for me
my mind and body often disagree
my body saying yes to eager hands
my mind saying no
constantly looking towards my heart
thinking how stupid one must be
to fall repeatedly
get hurt every single time
and still manage to do the same
over
and over
again
I wonder
how many times I will have to hit the ground
in order to learn to stop falling face first?
I often say things
that should be left unsaid
I often do things
that should not be done
sleep in beds unfamiliar
make believe love to strangers
get to know people who will not remember me tomorrow
I am gone as quickly as the hangover
I can be washed off the tongue
just as quickly as the liquor
I often believe I am capable of inciting change
I kiss temporary lips with permanence
hoping that I can train them to stay
I love temporary people with permanence
hoping that I can train them not to leave
and when they do
I claim to have seen it coming
I am incapable of forgetting
a scrapbook memory of skin and heartbeat
of touch and moments
I know not to look directly into eyes
for they can be blinding
and I still
do it anyway
I know of the risks that shouldn't be taken
well aware of their consequences
and I still
take them anyway
you could say
it is my own fault
for the way that things continue to turn out
but I can make no promise of apology
instead
I will live momentarily
**** up intentionally
love recklessly
fall unguarded
break enough times to learn how to put myself back together
crash into concrete enough times to learn how to shift a crooked smile
into something worth seeing
I have been told that a life lived in fear
is hardly a life lived at all
so I intend to live every second
like it is the last one I will have
I will write each night as it happens
narrate my own stories
and hope they turn out okay
I will regret this in the morning
but I will do it anyway.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
Hazy outlines familiar faces
Echoes of familiar places
Captured moments long forgotten
Honesty in words unspoken
A fleeting smile unguarded eyes
Truth beneath the surface lies
Pause a moment the masquerade
Telling postures now displayed
Rueful smiles and tired eyes
A warm glance melts a mask of ice
And as the frame fades away
Smoke and mirrors back into play
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 2:24 PM UTC
Tonight I will fall down upon my knees
To pray before the goddess of enchanted ebony
Her divine rays of dark beauty I embrace
Bathing blissfully in her enigmatic grace
I enter the sanctum
Her sacred place of healing
Ecstasy consumes me
Enraptured by the feeling
When the Moon of the Black Goddess
Shines Her light upon me
Then the Love of the Black Goddess
Drowns the world around me
Tonight I worship at the Temple of Her Light
I sacrifice my flesh to the goddess shining bright
The fire in my soul erupts and sets aflame my mind
On holy nights like these when the cosmos re-aligns
I enter the sanctum
Her sacred place of healing
Ecstasy consumes me
Enraptured by the feeling
When the Moon of the Black Goddess
Shines Her light upon me
Then the Lust of the Black Goddess
Burns the world around me
I submit myself to Her, naked and unguarded
Prepared to be consumed and then possibly discarded
For in her presence, all the evil in our pale existence
Vanishes from memory in a single instant
I enter the sanctum
Her sacred place of healing
Ecstasy consumes me
Enraptured by the feeling
When the Moon of the Black Goddess
Shines Her light upon me
Then the Mists of the Black Goddess
Shroud the world around me
The Moon of the Black Goddess
Cast thy spell upon me
The Moon of the Black Goddess
Looming right above me
The Moon of the Black Goddess
I give my flesh to worship thee!
For the Moon of the Black Goddess
Is the only place
I can find peace!
When the Moon of the Black Goddess
Shines Her light into me
Then the Tune of the Black Goddess
Becomes the song to set me free!
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC
Our love could be like a Fairytale
Twisting, winding down brick trails
Full of mystery and wondrous spells
Unguarded hearts with happy tales
Endless room without fear to fail
Our love is exactly like a Fairytale
No matter how bad I want it, It's just not real.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
Unguarded fool! Know this,
Thy kind words and thy gifts
Had bought for thee a mortal bliss,
Yet never healed the rifts
Within; no love redacts
The balance unredressed,
Despite thy wanton saintly acts
Thy remnants lay unblessed
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
Sanctuary is here; hiding in plain sight
Bedimmed beings step into the light
Stumble upon you may; hear us you might
All is welcome; no guard dogs that bite
Step inside, matters not armed or unarmed
Come as you are; steady or alarmed
Sip and drink from our collective fountains
Rest your eyes on our self painted mountains
Come on close and meet us all
Under shady trees or beyond the knoll
Some of us don masks or hide behind names
Some come naked but we're all one and the same
See our lives, spun from heavy layered bales
Woven intricate telling fantastic tales
Weavings we let fly, to catch each other's fables and stories
We admire them for what they are and the seed each carries
Be aware... Should you not understand
We may bear similar signatures but wear different brands
We, the people, trade in euphemisms
Broken sentences and long forgotten idioms
We are weavers, dreamers and scribes
Pouring here the outside world we imbibe
We are unguarded hearts speaking in metaphoric tongues
We provide safe haven for bruised souls with punctured lungs
So welcome traveler, shed your load
You might like it here in our coveted abode
Revel in the monochromatic sights you see
Where freedom of thought is revered in this here Sanctuary...
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
Like an onion, I had layers.
And you peeled me away, one at a time.
One layer off.
You saw my favorites.
The food and drinks I crave for.
The wall paint I wanted for my room.
The perky dresses, nail polish, knee-high boots.
And the spot I always prefer to be- on the front seat.
One layer off.
You saw my hobbies.
The words I stitched together.
The stars that formed our zodiac sign.
The wallclimbing, badminton, volleyball.
And the guitar strings that strum our lullaby.
One layer off.
You saw my dreams.
The plane ticket to Paris.
The thrill of a bungee jump.
The candlelit dinner, fireworks, dancing fountain.
And the license as a medical physician.
One layer off.
You saw my strengths.
The smile behind the false judgements.
The tears I fought back with pride.
The temperance, confidence, adjustments.
And the self-love I have strongly magnified.
One layer off.
You saw my insecurities.
The missing dimple on my left cheek.
The pimples on my forehead.
The bitchface, fierce stare, strict walk.
And this prominently thin-but-tall body figure.
One layer off.
You saw my regrets.
The kisses I could have refused.
The friends I thought were true.
The false assumptions, unmet expectations.
And the trust I gave to the wrong person.
One layer off.
You saw my secrets.
The punches I had to take.
The bruises I covered with my sleeves.
The lies, frustrations, disappointments.
And the brokenness suppressed in my memory.
The last layer, off.
You saw through me.
The anxiousness escalating slowly.
The exposure feeling uneasy.
I felt stripped, explored, unguarded.
And in my nakedness - you had to choose:
To love or to leave me,
For who I really am.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 2:49 AM UTC
Let me do my work each day;
and if the darkened hours
of despair overcome me, may I
not forget the strength
that comforted me in the
desolation of other times. May I
still remember the bright
hours that found me walking
over the silent hills of my
childhood, or dreaming on the
margin of the quiet river,
when a light glowed within me,
and I promised my early God
to have courage amid the
tempests of the changing years.
Spare me the bitterness
and from sharp passions of
unguarded moments. May
I not forget that poverty and
riches are of the spirit.
Though the world may know me not,
may my thoughts and actions
be such as shall keep me friendly
with myself. Lift my eyes
from the earth, and let me not
forget the uses of the stars.
Forbid that I should judge others
lest I condemn myself.
Let me not follow the clamor of
the world, but walk calmly
in my path. Give me a few friends
who will love me for what
I am; and keep ever burning
before my vagrant steps
the kindly light of hope. And
though age and infirmity overtake
me, and I come not within
sight of the castle of my dreams,
teach me still to be thankful
for life, and for time's olden
memories that are good and
sweet; and may the evening's
twilight find me gentle still.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 9:33 PM UTC
If I ever happen to meet myself,
I'd sit graciously on silence's table,
And study my evolved, yet un-evolved self,
Undisturbed, unhurried, un-agitated,
By world's brightest gulf.
...and smile back, as I watch myself.
If I ever happen to meet myself,
I'd sit cozily on peace's table,
And watch my wounded, yet un-wounded self,
Un-agitated, un-deviated, unmoved,
By world's sorry self
...and smile back, as I watch myself.
If I ever happen to meet myself,
I'd sit calmly on agony's table,
And observe my painful, yet not too painful self,
Unmoved, undaunted, unleashed,
By world's weirdest self,
...and smile back, as I watch myself.
If I ever happen to meet myself,
I'd sit gladly on glee's table,
With my eyes smiling, and smiling at myself,
Unaffected, unguarded, unremitted,
By world's unrequited self.
...and grin back, at myself.
If I ever happen to meet myself,
Twill indeed be a blessed, contending miracle,
As that's when I could pat & greet myself,
In real, In real, In real!
And make this fact to myself perceivable,
That Our world may sure often demand struggles,
And our mere existence in it,
May just be negligible,
But we never gotta forget
To stay hopeful, smile and giggle at ourselves,
No matter how hard,
or harder are the struggles,
As that's the precious fuel,
That can truly cause miracles,
In a world,
Often so obsessed with struggles!
And then with a grin,
A sparkling hope within,
I'll bid myself,
A sweet, serene,
farewell.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 3:23 PM UTC
I stubbed a toe today
It brought back unwanted memories
Intense, unguarded, pain shot through me
Like a lightening bolt
A bolt from the blue.
Unpleasant sensory and emotional experience
Transferred themselves to a stubbed toe.
I withdrew my toe
I withdrew myself
I boxed up the pain again.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
"the Garbage Cans!.......
.....................covet the
Garbage Cans!!"
this was my father's
........... ...."grave advice"
and he was
.........................so right!
I
(moving stealthily!)
thru the rich neighborhoods
KNOWING THE BEST UNGUARDED GARBAGE CANS!
shall remain
.................................well fed and healthy
watching all you others
so simply
.........................die
Aug 12, 2010
Aug 12, 2010 at 10:10 AM UTC
by
rgpage
man has a desire for eternal life; a life in length compared to that
of the stars in the sky, forever lasting. not a lonely vigil as the stars
with their solemn silent watch in the dark void of space, but a life filled
with earthly human pleasures. the pleasures of the soft silk like touch of
a woman's flesh, and a faint whisper of ecstasy in an unguarded moment of the heart. if eternal bliss cannot be granted then let death overtake at the moment of ******
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 3:11 AM UTC
she served me iced tea
from her porch
the smell of heavenly magnolia lingered,
like her locked up emotions
she was delicately bruised
but I would not rush her
no canary could I let her be
recuperation would come in ones
unguarded moments.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
.
oOOo oOO OOo oOo
oOOOOo OOo Ooo OO oOo
OoOoO Oo
ooO •naked feet tread
with nonchalance•unafraid
of what receding tides might
bring•hardened heels soften
to sunlit reverence•children
frolick accompanied by
unguarded peals
that ring•towa-
rd the ocean
vast we halt
to face•we
look to the
horizon and
dream of un-
seen lands•we
lift one foot with
the other in place•
is this all we are...
just impressions
in the sand?•
.
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 7:07 AM UTC
Blind sighted was I as I traveled the darken roads,
walking within the confines of my mind.
Learning of the darker paths again,
trying to explore the things left unsaid.
Occasionally trailing off the path,
patching the wounds that still bled.
Such a fool to let your guard down,
Such a fool to leave the paths unguarded.
Such a fool to believe again
Such a fool to suffer in torment.
Only to learn of a new wound there,
close to the one left by authority figures.
Stepping closer to examine it and
wondering if it could honestly be true.
Poking at it to try and learn more,
finding it a wound that travels deep.
Such a fool to let your guard down,
Such a fool to leave the paths unguarded.
Such a fool to believe again
Such a fool to suffer in torment.
Morbid curiosity encouraging me further,
extending hand to learn of the depth it holds.
Finding it to be larger than my fist,
what a deep wound this doth be.
Such a fool to let your guard down,
Such a fool to leave the paths unguarded.
Such a fool to believe again
Such a fool to suffer in torment.
Pus and gross things spilling along side
of the blood that seeps out.
Deadly infection having set in,
where I thought healing had started.
Silly thing I have been when I thought it scabbed over,
and healing as it should've been..
Such a fool to bare this burden.
Such a fool to think it was gone.
Such a fool to believe in trust.
Such a fool deserves to suffer.
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 9:44 PM UTC
I cannot recall the precise moment of my arrival at Anhedonia
memories blindsided by a phantasmagoric comorbid collage of cant
precipitated by some newspaper reportage or holocaust story
some creepy instance that breached the precipice between simple sorrow and permanent melancholia
some fatal blow that cinched the deal
some horrid event that could not heal
some dejected disappointment that could not be resolved
some moment of unguarded clarity when integrity dissolved
nevertheless I have arrived at this mangled juncture
élan a mania not even Edison's medicine can extirpate
I was quite lighthearted before the inferno
before my brain broke
ennui now a turgid companion
feeding on gaiety, never sated, seeking famine
esurient unrelenting usurper of happiness
go away, leave me alone, relish some other soul's madness
gone is any exuberance, glee or mirth
miseries are mine, many the days since birth
better I was carried from the womb straight to the grave
a fatuous existence, clamoring and grasping in vain
it's as if I was born into a well
but these waters they burn
the bludgeoning alcohol a liquid hell
Oh florid loquacity, you are an impostor
your verse is an adversary
a foray of jagged rhythm justifying a storm
a sordid verbosity assuring no norm
a plaintive scratching guild of recriminative collaboration
some alliance of fulminating disquietude
the cost for the fare on the adventure to:
the stunning moment you too will visit Anhedonia
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
I'm a prisoner of love, in this unguarded cell,
The warden whistles my name you'd think it hell,
but she knows my case all too well,
Her piercing eyes as resolute as the Bastille,
Dodging Cupids arrows at will,
Across this broom is forever, I'm gone for a life long spell,
With Joy as my bars and happiness the rubber shower mats,
Blissful ecstasy is its escape deterrent traps,
I pass the time a whittling hearts and sharpening this rap.
See those chalk lines on the wall of my heart?
They record the memories of my days since the start,
Her smiles are more prized than jailhouse art.
At inspection and roll call in the morning,
The smirk under the cap then a whispering,
Keep careful watch on our "Prisoner Prince Charming",
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
Warm, sheltered frame, tender heart
Little girl delightedly arrive the world
Bright and joyful, safe and secure, she believed
As men bow down and pray to the She lord.
Her home filled with love and faith
Brilliantly safeguarded her wholeness
Curiously pondered on the world outside the home
Would be bright and joyful, safe and secure
As men bow down and pray to the She lord.
Stepped outside her blessed shield
Got entangled in the scary ropes
The beautiful world suddenly played a cruel role
Whenever she ran, many watched her go
Many minds, eyes, strength shackled her soul
Once the safe and the secure world
Became the unguarded, unheard, and unsaid hall
Still, men bow down and pray to the She Lord.
Many touched her and go
Play with her extant and throw
Bruised heart, wounded skin
She kept herself dragging, seeking her home
They failed to feel love, passion, and peace
Courage and devotion dwelling within
Still, men bow down and pray to the She Lord.
Men worship Lord Durga with the feel
but don’t succeed to see her essence in every being
Daughter, mother, wife, friend, colleague
Every girl carries Durga in their will
And men bow down and pray the idol She.
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 12:58 PM UTC
Caesar Has No Authority Over The Grammarians
(Caesar non supra grammaticos)
I am licensed to drive.
I am licensed to broke.
I am licensed to be birthed.
I am licensed to marry, divorce and someday I will be
coroner-permission"end" to die.
If I so choose, I can be state approved to cut your hair,
have my own business, weld, own a dog, panhandle, play tennis in Central Park, dance in my own cabaret, even commit suicide legally.
These United States were a refuge for my foreign born parents,
Bless you both for privileging me such,
you gifted me a country where my voice, clear and unashamedly,
unguarded can speak here unafraid, for our
Caesar has no authority over the grammarians.
Tho the IRS gonna come after me, and king phony Barack,
Gonna eavesdrop on my privacy,
As long as I can write my poetry free and clear, untaxed,
won't ever mortgage my soul to any government hack
I will carry my U.S. passport in my left pocket over my heart,
Till they take my freedom to speak away.
Then I will get a gun for free speech is worth dying for...
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 8:21 PM UTC
I stood outside watching the rain slowly melt from the clouds
My porch let me step onto its short pathway, for it knew my thoughts
I stood there and looked up at the sky, being guarded by the small roof above me
I watched as the rain fell silently to the streets and listened as it hit the bushes
I kept waiting for it to change
I kept waiting for it to change me
For it to wash away something deep inside me
I wanted it to wash away any hurt
Wash away the insecurities
Wash away the denial
Wash away the sins
Wash away the thinking of “You’ll never feel the touch of someone in love”
Wash away the scars
Wash away the memories
Wash away the impurities
Wash away
I stood waiting but the rain still poured on my outstretched hands
My hands opening to God asking,”Why me?”
The hands of a woman who has never felt the hands of a man in love
The hands that can make me whole once more
As I stood watching the lightening soar across the sky and the thunder gently hum
I wondered “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?”
I shivered and stood waiting for the rain’s response
None came; the only response was the silent tread of water heading toward a gutter
Funny, just like my life, always fighting against gravity to stay clear of the gutter
Shivering I stepped back inside and heard a small clink of a piece of broken glass
I held it, amazed, wondering if my life would end this way
In the hands of a tiny piece of melted sand
I looked at its tiny iceberg shape
I turned it and it suddenly transformed into a misshaped heart
A heart, like mine, so clear, so ready, so fragile
I tossed the tiny love into the air as lightening made its last hoorah
Hearing only the distinctive clink as it hit the sidewalk
The rain responded joyously as it picked up its pace
This was her response
Nothing may be real but the rain
In the end, sometimes, it’s all we can depend on to wash away our old selves
To stand, like an escape from Shawshank; free
This was my answer
That my tiny glass love lying patiently on the side of the road will someday be picked up and thrown wildly into the wind hoping that it shall find the fingers of a lovestruck current
This time instead of a slab of concrete, I shall be there to catch it as lightening strikes my heart
I looked up at the tiny roof guarding my head from the cold drops of reality
It was then that I decided it was time to take the roof off of my life, leaving me unguarded
I closed the door, shivering with a renewed sense of myself
I curled under the blanket asking again the same questions that haunted me,
“Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?”
The rain answered,
“Yes”.
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
There’s a dark grotto
Under the sea
With shelves and shelves
Of bottles
Clear, glass bottles
All of my secrets
A carefully watched castle
The middle of a concentric series of impassable walls
Surrounded by a forest of kelp
With razor-sharp teeth
And then the narwhals
The narwhal guards
Armed to the teeth with halibut-slicing knives
Their three-meter horns
Gleaming in the moonlight
Guarding
All of my secrets
Skeletons, trespassers of yore,
Strewn about the seafloor
Bones picked clean
By the scavenging *****
No one can enter
No one can leave
The grotto with the shelves
Shelves and shelves of clear, glass bottles
All of my secrets
But as for the *****
For the first time in centuries
The sunlight warms the waters
Melts the kelp
Kisses the narwhals
Buries the bones and torments the scavengers
Clearing away the darkness
A nonstop route through the castle
Protecting
All of my secrets
The tendrils of photons creep along
Wary
Ready for a fight
The grotto growls menacingly
Unguarded
For the first time in centuries
But upon the first touch -
Light meets stone -
The sea shudders
Ecstasy
And in repayment for salvation
Out come the bottles
Floating to the surface
Bathing in the light
All of my secrets
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 3:20 PM UTC
Promise is the hue of dawn
nothing forgotten
nothing forgone
Unfootprinted sand unveiled—unashamed
dusk’s child born of nocturnal tide’s wane
Sunrisen
first breaths
from the
safe womb of pale moon
plucked from
paired lovebirds’ earliest tune
Yet no blossom takes bloom
knowing how sweet nectar
can turn
facing a blushing sun’s
heat.
Bound to a timeworn past— each day
born anew
Mother Night slips
soothing sighs
Soft breath of light
upon This--
and
all
morning dew.
Let smiles wedge between sleepy red cheeks
while sunlight braids between lullaby lashes
know that fire of life is unguarded to seize
or to fade,
longing in a Sun's jaded ashes.
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 8:46 AM UTC
Let me do my work each day;
and if the darkened hours
of despair overcome me, may I
not forget the strength
that comforted me in the
desolation of other times. May I
still remember the bright
hours that found me walking
over the silent hills of my
childhood, or dreaming on the
margin of the quiet river,
when a light glowed within me,
and I promised my early God
to have courage amid the
tempests of the changing years.
Spare me the bitterness
and from sharp passions of
unguarded moments. May
I not forget that poverty and
riches are of the spirit.
Though the world may know me not,
may my thoughts and actions
be such as shall keep me friendly
with myself. Lift my eyes
from the earth, and let me not
forget the uses of the stars.
Forbid that I should judge others
lest I condemn myself.
Let me not follow the clamor of
the world, but walk calmly
in my path. Give me a few friends
who will love me for what
I am; and keep ever burning
before my vagrant steps
the kindly light of hope. And
though age and infirmity overtake
me, and I come not within
sight of the castle of my dreams,
teach me still to be thankful
for life, and for time's olden
memories that are good and
sweet; and may the evening's
twilight find me gentle still.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 3:41 PM UTC
I’m walking down a howling, windswept street;
an open avenue of untamed elements,
all icy scatter and driving push, pull,
forlorn crossed glances disguised at the last second
in a rush of slapping breeze,
pulled my face straight.
I’m walking down a street, peeking past corners,
wondering where you lead.
I walk and chase,
in the sharp, swollen bites of rain
rolling down my face and
pooling at my feet.
I’m walking down a street,
mind circling and picking over pieces of you.
In the furthest reaches, in the shade from awnings
of trampled, stampeded pavements,
I inch closer and escalate straight back.
I’m walking down a street, having an emotional affair with you;
my silky, sticky, sweetened crush;
a burn,
you make me cry.
You’re not a secret.
I’m stepping over city-clogged gutters and
***** grass;
having forays and majestic waking daydreams
with all those startling crisp images
of you and me
you
and
me
bundled together like twisted wires.
Using each other like immortal weeds.
I’m walking down a howling, windswept street,
where blue sky begins to play peek-a-boo
trying not to cry.
I leave myself unguarded and playing at wounds,
thinking of you again.
But walking down this street,
I know you are futile game,
a persevering sweat beneath the blankets at night.
I know you prove an attractive devil,
but these tears cool the heat, the lust.
And by being swept up in these winds with me,
maybe I’m your devil, in the end.
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
For I believe you to be a thief, my dear.
As I believe for all that come into my mind.
And perhaps, the thought of you still lingers,
As if to wistfully remind my bones,
That I must chase you,
To regain the part that you have so gracefully stolen.
Perhaps that is why you are so inescapable.
Because you have escaped,
And I lie, so desperately trying to avoid that realisation.
You have had such a grand heist on my heart,
And it is only in your wake that I have realised its absence.
How foolish of my indeed,
To leave it so unguarded.
Perhaps that is why my knees quiver when I hear of you,
Because I want to run,
To follow you.
Yet you are already so very far away.
And I fear, in the mist of the failures of distraction,
That I shall never make the distance.
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 11:56 AM UTC