"unhooking" poems - Hello Poetry

If you tell me I'm meaningful Then **** you The loyalty fades When her zipper starts unhooking And you hum to her smile Leaving no thoughts for our flickers

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Jan 17, 2014

Jan 17, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC

moon-child

Grapefruit

If you tell me I'm meaningful Then **** you The loyalty fades When her zipper starts unhooking And you hum to her smile Leaving no thoughts for our flickers

6

... that's HUGE. my little dog got a dew claw hooked in her bottom eyelid. don't ask me how. i had a heck of a time keeping her still... she was struggling. when the claw was finally extracted (i spent 5 minuets praying. calming her) i found that i had not pulled it up and out (unhooking it so to speak) IT HAD BROKEN OFF SAVING HER EYE. i pray for protection for this beautiful little creature. GOD HEARD ME. and answered. ♥ Catherine

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Jul 16, 2015

Jul 16, 2015 at 4:52 PM UTC

SoulSurvivor

a small miracle...

... that's HUGE. my little dog got a dew claw hooked in her bottom eyelid. don't ask me how. i had a heck of a time keeping her still... she was struggling. when the claw was finally extracted (i spent 5 minuets praying. calming her) i found that i had not pulled it up and out (unhooking it so to speak) IT HAD BROKEN OFF SAVING HER EYE. i pray for protection for this beautiful little creature. GOD HEARD ME. and answered. ♥ Catherine

18

Opening up to Monday I unwrapped myself from the duvet Pasted my limbs to the floor Slippers winked at me Invitingly, I settled my feet into their snugness As I stood, I was thankful that today Is Monday, wonderful Monday Free as a song bird to create My own melody, a chorus of hurrah I caught up with the shower On hot house temperature Scorching...I fumbled for the cool Climate, turning it sufficiently to Bathe and recycle myself As I stroked the cat meowing A feline opera, making her presence known The outside world had a dismal feel The window onto the day told me so Yet, blue escorted the clouds Pushing the doubting rain packages To another realm Introducing the blue yonder that Had won the day We all gathered up into the aroma Of a new week, stretched our Arms towards one another I joined the links for a few hours Tattooing their conversation into my Subconscious indelibly Unhooking ourselves we separated Turning towards the duties of the day Swiftly we deposited out parting gifts Hugs Kisses Our best Our loving wishes

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Feb 2, 2013

Feb 2, 2013 at 6:39 PM UTC

laura-susan-smith

Thank Goodness it's Monday

Opening up to Monday I unwrapped myself from the duvet Pasted my limbs to the floor Slippers winked at me Invitingly, I settled my feet into their snugness As I stood, I was thankful that today Is Monday, wonderful Monday Free as a song bird to create My own melody, a chorus of hurrah I caught up with the shower On hot house temperature Scorching...I fumbled for the cool Climate, turning it sufficiently to Bathe and recycle myself As I stroked the cat meowing A feline opera, making her presence known The outside world had a dismal feel The window onto the day told me so Yet, blue escorted the clouds Pushing the doubting rain packages To another realm Introducing the blue yonder that Had won the day We all gathered up into the aroma Of a new week, stretched our Arms towards one another I joined the links for a few hours Tattooing their conversation into my Subconscious indelibly Unhooking ourselves we separated Turning towards the duties of the day Swiftly we deposited out parting gifts Hugs Kisses Our best Our loving wishes

36

You can never skip an opportunity to call yourself that Because you’re your ma’s son: Didn’t get caught up in the tool shed Got spiked through with the hooked art of repeating yourself instead Should I feel insulted then That these cracked, digited fringes These rejects of your diminutive anatomy Are how you love me? You love me with the unvoiced, unexplained idiocy Of fingers that make Mexican waves To one particular song And lure mine to come dancing too You love me with the whorls where you keep your DNA Counting the concaves in my skeleton: Explore them, soothe them Wonder if you made them And I think you fear that If you ceased to trace me as I grew – A carpenter sifting through the age rings in my spine – I’d only feel the dislocating vagueness Of an absence too menial to be mourned. “Cack-handed” But I remember different: I remember your hands like leather, All heated and scratchy from your pockets, Unhooking the problems from my mouth. And how the weather’d teethed on them, Gnawed away chunks down around the cuticles Until they were dry and scarred like February – February getting lost in its own bleak cavernousness They stir the rag in the shoe polish, And the burnt spoon in the bean tin. I used to try to pinch them But my nails were too soft And your palms too crusted But when they tell me “thick-skinned” I shake my head and think “No, beautifully cack-handed”

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Apr 12, 2016

Apr 12, 2016 at 3:03 AM UTC

merecat

“Cack-handed”

You can never skip an opportunity to call yourself that Because you’re your ma’s son: Didn’t get caught up in the tool shed Got spiked through with the hooked art of repeating yourself instead Should I feel insulted then That these cracked, digited fringes These rejects of your diminutive anatomy Are how you love me? You love me with the unvoiced, unexplained idiocy Of fingers that make Mexican waves To one particular song And lure mine to come dancing too You love me with the whorls where you keep your DNA Counting the concaves in my skeleton: Explore them, soothe them Wonder if you made them And I think you fear that If you ceased to trace me as I grew – A carpenter sifting through the age rings in my spine – I’d only feel the dislocating vagueness Of an absence too menial to be mourned. “Cack-handed” But I remember different: I remember your hands like leather, All heated and scratchy from your pockets, Unhooking the problems from my mouth. And how the weather’d teethed on them, Gnawed away chunks down around the cuticles Until they were dry and scarred like February – February getting lost in its own bleak cavernousness They stir the rag in the shoe polish, And the burnt spoon in the bean tin. I used to try to pinch them But my nails were too soft And your palms too crusted But when they tell me “thick-skinned” I shake my head and think “No, beautifully cack-handed”

38

i miss our soft touch my smooth fingertips grazing your shoulder blades unhooking your bra kissing your neck our soft skin melting together plush **** gone

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Apr 3, 2018

Apr 3, 2018 at 3:48 AM UTC

scarfish

missing

i miss our soft touch my smooth fingertips grazing your shoulder blades unhooking your bra kissing your neck our soft skin melting together plush **** gone

8

Redolent rain steel train streak of blue racing through night lands rainy window sallow moon glow no reservation nor hesitation time to travel some things to unravel go looking unhooking my mind drift into peace float in my seat high in the sky sweet sighs to feel again finally understand there is no plan only a dream within a dream to feel a life time so surreal.

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Apr 18, 2015

Apr 18, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC

ca-guilfoyle

Traveling at night

Redolent rain steel train streak of blue racing through night lands rainy window sallow moon glow no reservation nor hesitation time to travel some things to unravel go looking unhooking my mind drift into peace float in my seat high in the sky sweet sighs to feel again finally understand there is no plan only a dream within a dream to feel a life time so surreal.

31

Masks and fiction we wear as protection To keep us safe from vulnerable situations Make-up we plaster as our happiness The mentality of only you... no trespassing, Because self-inflicted hurt is less agonizing Than others getting to close to our truths. Covering the life lessons with a layer of skin, Cautioning any soul we begin to let in, Keeping our mindless thoughts ever-dwelling. This life promised happiness, tragedy, forgiveness. But, in adulthood, it doesn't provide protection. Rather, it hands us elders and guardians That remind us vulnerability is unhooking your Body from the steel-anchor of problems. That the winds may knock you off your feet, but We'll fly again as the water flows along the breeze.

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Jul 26, 2016

Jul 26, 2016 at 1:39 AM UTC

songsonpedestals

The Idea of Protection

Masks and fiction we wear as protection To keep us safe from vulnerable situations Make-up we plaster as our happiness The mentality of only you... no trespassing, Because self-inflicted hurt is less agonizing Than others getting to close to our truths. Covering the life lessons with a layer of skin, Cautioning any soul we begin to let in, Keeping our mindless thoughts ever-dwelling. This life promised happiness, tragedy, forgiveness. But, in adulthood, it doesn't provide protection. Rather, it hands us elders and guardians That remind us vulnerability is unhooking your Body from the steel-anchor of problems. That the winds may knock you off your feet, but We'll fly again as the water flows along the breeze.

16

Queued Right From The start Snake like Cloth Barriers Slid Through Going Under Unhooking Running Straight Through Someone Shouted ‘Stop that’ Come to The front Just You, you And you No tick Box Selection On age Religion Gender Or view Just You, you And you Depart…. Queue Slows And Shuffles And Goes Back To the Start.

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Jul 6, 2016

Jul 6, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC

lynn-hamilton

Orderly Queue

Queued Right From The start Snake like Cloth Barriers Slid Through Going Under Unhooking Running Straight Through Someone Shouted ‘Stop that’ Come to The front Just You, you And you No tick Box Selection On age Religion Gender Or view Just You, you And you Depart…. Queue Slows And Shuffles And Goes Back To the Start.

43

His hands on my body Were cold, cold, Cold hands on warm flesh Like when you open The back of the bra On a cold winter day Cold hands on warm flesh I can feel them again Goosebumps run down My back and I double over Like I didn't then Cold hands on warm flesh That make you want to Run away from your own fingers Only those weren't my fingers And I wasn't the one Unhooking my bra.

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Apr 27, 2014

Apr 27, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC

hello-friends

Cold hands

His hands on my body Were cold, cold, Cold hands on warm flesh Like when you open The back of the bra On a cold winter day Cold hands on warm flesh I can feel them again Goosebumps run down My back and I double over Like I didn't then Cold hands on warm flesh That make you want to Run away from your own fingers Only those weren't my fingers And I wasn't the one Unhooking my bra.

17