"unmalleable" poems
Are we not so different?
An angel consorting with a heathen,
A heathen consorting with an angel?
Both traitors.
Both committing frequent treason.
Both doomed to remain as static entities.
Unchanging, Unmalleable.
Opposite extremities,
Yet still on the same spectrum.
So what makes us so different?
Perception?
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 4:21 AM UTC
" I was not looking for a cage
In which to mope in my old age." --- W H Auden
Turning sixty-five is not without its pleasures,
though the parameters of youth are rendered void.
You discover illusions are become a virtual reality,
a chimera you never outlived whose core is unmalleable.
So, one finds solace in their granddaughter,
who is unshackled by your paradoxes,
who presupposes only links to the obtainable.
And yet, she loves her "silly grandpa".
Old age is unexpected and doubt arises in the doctrine of wisdom,
a daily glass of prune juice becoming regiment.
Yet, granddaughters can connect the dots,
and, just maybe, afford us that second chance.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
She may find my
harsh tattoo
and unmalleable attitude
something that does not suit
her range of liking,
but I've changed
one, two, many times
to give a ****
if a dime minds my demeanor.
Steel Reserve, and steely nerves,
I don't even have an interior
just miles of walls.
Glass eyes don't blink at all
when her clothes fall
or her voice calls
my name.
This clay is fired
it's too late to
change.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:07 PM UTC
i can't help
thinking,
just maybe,
if i could force the sun to stay away,
to leave me just the stars in its bay
and if i could bend those stars to suit my whims,
to bathe me in light i felt comfortable in,
just maybe,
i could love him.
if i could run the oceans into defeat,
to sprint until they fell at my feet,
and if tide and time would turn for me,
giving me a solitary victory
just maybe,
i could forget you.
if i could lift the storms away from harm,
gathering thunder and lightning in arms
and if i could soothe the squalling of the gale,
softening the blows from marring hail.
just maybe,
i could find a safer way.
i can't help
thinking,
just maybe,
if i could mould the unmalleable
conquer what i thought infallible,
and if i could upend everything i held dear,
and find some way to force my eyes clear,
just maybe,
i could walk away from you.
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
Bubble
by Michael R. Burch
Love—
fragile, elusive—
if held too closely
cannot withstand
the inter ruption
of its bright,
unmalleable tension
and breaks, disintegrates,
at the touch of
an undiscerning
hand.
Originally published by Neovictorian/Cochlea. I believe this is my only "shape" or "shaped" poem. Keywords/Tags: Love, fragile, delicate, bubble, tension, held, breaks, pops, disintegrates, explodes, implodes, hand, touch, harsh, ungentle
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 3:44 AM UTC
Inquiring sons of daughters,
Equipt
Of a day, one day,
The unmalleable grounds
Of Untanga gardens
Will beget,
By far Richer.
Than today
Down to their own sons
Of a day, one day
Our land,
Agleam in lights of progress.
Surging nights
Bedeviled by the buzz of utopian youth
They, then also
Down to their sons
Of a day, one day
So on
And on...
Sep 20, 2020
Sep 20, 2020 at 10:55 AM UTC
exasperated, emasculated,
So the negative connotations
From life's ****** molestation,
**** from this Annotation
emphatic, tragic confirmation
That my formations deformed,
so be warned, u won't be warmed by hearing I've conformed
To be socially Reformed
Reborn, no Solubility of scorn
No Altruism, so Imprisoned
is peace's vision, Forlorn
****** but pleasure like ****
Isn't a focus, so like ****
I'm Unable to reject the amorous nature
Of what will take place
But I fail as I try to placate
Or humorously play hate
But that's like calling date ****
just an innocent play date
when we're ****** for pay day
Catching Freedom in an Infallible trap
Leaving memories, both enemies, and remedies, when flashing back
But without Omniscience, it seems
Only Predestination Is left
Wit bitter taste of self hate,accepting fate,
now only death
can stop the new Aversion to breath
Causing a Discrepancy to remain
Some say lifes a gift to contradict
all i insist is inhumane
A reality based on haste, hate,
A purgatory Where narcissists
Prove that ignorance is bliss,
cuz happy Usually r ignorant as ****
Or maybe there's no correlation
and I just **** at curation
Maybe pessimisms Pervasion
Has damaged me for the duration
Of life never to vacation
From rigid Dichotomies like
Believing in prophets or profits
Or what's legal and wuts right
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 3:06 AM UTC
**** you** are so tired.
Enmeshed in your
silk of lies and loved lovers loved while loving me.
How can you say a love shouldn’t be loved
How can you lie about your lover
Especially if you (n)ever loved me.
let it be
what even is "meant to be"
Not tired in the way
you can shut your eyes
and wake up
refreshed
to a new day
But tired in the way
you no longer
sulk and skulk.
just continuously
walk around
inconspicuously
hoping no one
asks
“How are you”
because your answer
has evolved to some effect of:
I am great!
I am good!
I am alright.
I am fine
I am
I exist
and you resist
speaking,
you just keep reading
because
you feel your smile
is not as misleading
as it used to be.
Everyone can see your
eyes are lost
consumed looking for
the reason
for you to lie and love lovers while loving me.
**** you** are so tired
tired in the way
your tenacious tensity
is palpable
unmalleable
unrelenting
to the point of exhaustion
at this point you are just venting
So ******* go away.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 12:56 PM UTC
"I was the only one who never tried to change you"
words from my Babushka from across the small kitchen
the smell of salt Baltic air and fresh baked goods from the shop down the quiet street filled with soviet style block apartments.
In my childhood and in my adolescence, there were those who said "that girl needs to be broken in"
shes too brash too uncompromising too unmalleable
I wrap my fingers around my mug of instant coffee, the acidity colliding with the sweetness of the cinnamon pastry still on my tongue
I thought how lucky am I to have just one person who took me simply as I am
Sep 1, 2024
Sep 1, 2024 at 11:26 PM UTC
Broken promises are like shattered glasses that aren't cleaned up.
Eventually there's nowhere left to walk without getting cut,
whether you broke them or not.
Broken hearts are like drying puddles in full sun of a desert.
Eventually they wither away and dry,
leaving only a cracked, unmalleable surface.
Broken souls are like colors faded to grays.
Though beautiful they have no luster and life they cannot sustain.
Broken promises
lead to broken hearts
and broken hearts
cause broken souls.
Only the truely strong can survive a real broken heart and not let it touch their soul.
Can you?
Can I?
I guess in time we'll know.
Dec 5, 2024
Dec 5, 2024 at 3:57 PM UTC