"unmended" poems
The time must come when
we put aside recipes untried,
socks unmended, old fabrics
too pretty to be used -when
the bottled nuts and bolts
-the springs, the locks
unused -waiting,
wait unused
-the memorabilia of hope,
the rusty steel of life.
The time must come when
cease to lie -lotions,
Elixirs de Leon -when we
fail our bite to the night-soak
and think not -care not, of that
breath that does not count anyhow
-when reason mirrors wrinkles
-undreams romance.
-hooked rugs of might-have-done,
school albums, what not become,
leather bottles, convalescing sun
-and the quieting ice.
When I read the Sports/
Society page, I ask myself -them,
'How will you go down?
-willingly? -with,
if not a Bang, a Whimper?
-if not with, without
the Apotheosis of Drug?
(-from http://www.condition.org/ )
Jun 9, 2010
Jun 9, 2010 at 5:05 PM UTC
I'm not too inclined to write.
Because my roots lie deep in soil
unmended
and highly offended by such
apathetic precipitation. Approximating that
any hint of hope
was barren.
So a love life-
one, call her wife.
She austerely abided by permanency
despite omnipresent strife.
There was simply no life.
Nothing.
Not an attempt to stick it out
past
imaginary doubt.
All when you were
all my life was about?
Days of
ferris wheels
and
tickled squeals
bring on such sweet strength.
But I can't say anything
blunted the light
more than your shadow.
I digress.
It's always been a battle
My blind past,
they say,
shows only decay.
If green is still visible,
on a day chemically dismal
remember
that still
I'm not inclined to write.
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
Kudos!
we reached the goal
Tightened the knot,
Sewed the hole
in the curtains
of life
And somehow
Hid the blot
that bothered
the people
rife
But what about
the tiny spot
still seen
in the midst
of white.
And
the glimmer
of long-lit
light
that peeps
through
the slightly
left,
unmended
hole of sin
into
the darkness
we shut
ourselves
in?
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 8:18 AM UTC
Here , origami flowers , folded willingly
While I touched only pleasure with my mind.
These hands moved under guidance of zen ecstacy
Fingers deftly flip over forms
Directed by shivers of Kali pointing out
My next act with ten thousand hands
this lotus encloses secret airs
That blew a glance turned gaze
from a plurality into a singularity
black body radiation gratifies our dieties
engrams exist in a black hole
all that matters in memory one
overdense point S)P)E)C)I)A)L)
an orb of delusion that i will attempt to
hold with nonattachment and gratitude.
Here, take this fragile piece of paper
time form energy used by me
now it is a flower
For all holidays
And broken promises unmended
take this flower
please accept it
and when you go home
and throw it away
don't tell me
you care
This lily is for that all the mistrust, miscommunication , lies , painful fights.
But you will never know that
I will just give you a flower
next time random time
we meet .
Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 1:53 AM UTC
As the crow drowns
Insidious profound friend
End of candor
End of the end
Rose roots and runic worm trails
Fail-safes left unattended
Unmended vain tatters
What matters?
What truly matters?
Dreams of red in ribbons
Seething bloodlust and dead intent
No rest for the wrested
Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 3:51 AM UTC
*Come brother let’s sit under memory’s canopy
Walk down olden times chatter childishly
Forgetting the ravaged mind the years’ tempest
Retrieve the tender moments in heart's youthful jest!
Come brother let’s hold hands like the days of yore
Walk down to find that house knock on its door
It must still be standing in the sun whitewashed clean
Waiting for us to go back dig out treasures within!
Come brother let’s go back to that half-lit classroom
Where the walls bear our scribbles the blackboard our gloom
The air still must breathe there our voice and hidden sigh
Unmended is the windowpane through which we stole the sky!
Come brother let’s go back to our childhood’s playground
Where small feet kicked dust at day end turned homebound
It craves our splashing touch contemplates the placid stream
The two that no more come remembered only in dream!
Come brother let’s once more take that precious ride
Tug each other’s heartstrings bring out the child inside
Forgetting the weathered skin the worry beaten face
Go hunting for the lost treasure of unshackled happiness!*
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 4:02 AM UTC
There are fireflies in the garden during the dawn
and the moon, till the day, stays
hung over shuttered windows like some
homeless
hopeless looking for love.
You turned my world onto its head
and brought me down in chains; now
bubbling the last of me in some
Chinese torture chamber of love
in a dark room of your mother's house
full of the horrors of your childhood
and your children.
You scar this skin like I can go out
wearing every verse that escaped your tongue
like a trophy fallen to dust:
gone sheen, glory and all.
Rivers are finally flowing backward
and I swear I saw pigs fly
in a sky as pink as the lips of you on your glass of venom.
Galleries of art are slipping into the street
because masterpieces were absolutely
nothing when it came to the abstracts
of brilliance and dark you could create
by the harrows of your mind.
I was no story teller and
I could never put you to sleep.
So you slip away from my bed, mind, heart and hand.
And it tastes like a broken marriage
too hot on the tongue
and too far gone to believe
it could become unmended.
Rain sometimes falls in numbers
one here, twice there.
On me
all at once, all the time.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
A sunflower that blooms without the sun
A silhouette that lingers along the walls
Without a figure, eavesdropping, wanting for more
A sense of taste without bitterness, sweetness nor contentment
A presence that stood still amongst the crowd
A lost soul forgotten by the bus
Another day, sulking in resentment
A scent that was never there, just a person with a lonely heart
Waiting for comfort, until the day, they finally fall apart
A smile left hanging by a thread
A goodbye less, a long lost hug from a friend
Another half to fill the empty space between two arms
Fingertips that caress unmended scars
Faded, torn, unintended, absent, belittled, irrelevant
Another breathing human less
Another life, crushed and torn into shreds
n.j.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
spring In Derbyshire
two hearts,
one person,
her lovelies,
ankles,
skipping on the streets,
carrying a woman's body,
healing winter-slow,
six pence better,
since December,
yet, still unmended
spring brings warmth and sun...
the farming of the
high gritstone moorlands,
so needy for these
things that are
the all~important.
Energy blessed to her,
selfless redistributed,
being used on the little ones...
Chasing rainbows and planting veg -
sweet peas, sunflowers, raspberries -
harvest the pumpkins,
some to take to the market,
a marker of her hopes
harvest her words,
a marker~market~maker,
anonymous woman~mother-poet
from the Derbyshire
of our hopes
March 24, 2014
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 5:42 AM UTC
Cradled in the dark, encompassed in lies.
Accompanied with the wonderment of despair.
A wooden effigy looms over me, an accusing stare.
A lock of hair, a piece of clothing, a drop of blood…
A creature carved delicately with a scalpel of hate.
Its shadow watching over me, crying in my heart.
Screaming in my head, a cacophony of silence.
A technicolor dreamscape painted over my eyes.
A horrified soliloquy my only respite.
Memoirs of innocence long forgotten.
Wherein lies my salvation?
Love dies, and I along with it.
Broken hope, shattered dreams, scars unmended.
Fields of pain harvested in my soul.
Catatonia takes precedence and I follow it.
May 1, 2010
May 1, 2010 at 7:35 AM UTC
you and me
once became we.
my lips against your skin,
your hands tangled in my hair
not until you went out without goodbyes
and i was left remembering your lies.
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 8:55 AM UTC
Were we split or shaken by qualms and quarrels,
Quaked from boughs in bushels no longer cherished;
Were we rocked from resting upon our laurels,
Laureates perished,
Sense would part from substance, go unattended,
Try to sense itself, but not sensing ever;
Substance lacking sense would be left unmended,
Parted forever:
Blue apart from sky, for the air was looted;
Red not rock nor flame nor a beating bloodline;
Grassless green, the sod and the seed uprooted;
Light without sunshine;
Heat without the sun's heavy tide of summer;
Sweet without a tongue nor a licking lapping;
Beat without the blow of the drum, nor drummer
Steadily clapping.
Could you bear to tear our ownselves asunder?
Rather, let us bend at the laurel lightly,
Quiver little to strain not the bough whereunder
Fasten us tightly.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
wander and Roam – traveling show
far and w i d e You will go.
At the end. I hope You find
Here i am every time.
Young and FREE, You don’t know any more than me
And i’m
lost and sometimes lonely,
but at the end. i know i’ll find
there You are every time.
roads that wind. eyes. closed.
people watch from miles away.
they talk, run their mouths all about You and me
trivial words - - calloused feet and unkept hair
I can’t bring myself to care.
Everywhere You go i want to be.
gone sometimes i know i’ll find You,
but at the end come back to me.
Patiently waiting bent over a scratched sheet
is where i’ll be.
crisp and clean. cotton.
only to be ripped to shreds.
Unmended then you’ll go.
Come back and you’ll find. they are as before-
The work of two can’t be done alone.
Take me away to fields of green.
Take me away to streets of gold.
Take me away to deserts of sand.
Take me away to a sea so vast.
Take me
take me never to return.
blue and blue and blue and green. all the world i want to see.
Your eyes, I think, they see it differently.
golden golden golden sand. must mean more if i can hold Your hand.
anywhere anywhere anywhere You are. there i am too.
whisper to me when You come HOME
I hope HOME is always with me.
Happy and fortunate I hope You live
Young and FREE I hope You stay.
Do what You must to go Your own way
be Your own, never sway.
Don’t look back, always ahead.
find me, find me in the end.
Oct 2, 2011
Oct 2, 2011 at 8:45 PM UTC
how many?
how many hearts have you broken?
how many people have you left unmended?
how many innocent people have you torn apart?
how much?
how much pain have you caused?
how much tear has been shed?
how much trust has been crushed?
how?
how can you sleep at night,
knowing you've hurt more than a fly?
how can you eat a lot,
knowing you made someone lose their appetite?
how can you still stand still,
knowing you never bothered catching anyone who fall?
how... how could you?
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
Note
Attaching honours
and dispatching lives;
So grins the new day
and greets the Great Flaw
Note
The Fusing :
Polarise
and apply
weapon to wound
(as the weatherman dictates)
Note
Taughtless and young
Fight your way from family
and take oath
with no protest:
A moral clumsiness
Note
We'll sort out that 'population problem'
and lunge out our burrowed lives
in saturation
of our unmended sorrows
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 10:22 PM UTC
I could stare at broken windows all day
And not once feel what it felt like
when I first realised I really didn't want to be put back together again
like dull crystals and melted snowflakes
I wish you would just notice me
I got suns inside me that would orbit you if you just as much as smiled at me
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 3:32 AM UTC
No Funeral.
No Wake.
Just get me down
to the Take’n’Bake.
When they’re done
sweep me into a bag or box
and scatter me wide.
Bits here and bits there
I don’t suppose I’ll really care
or notice where I am.
Places I’ve lived, loved and ventured.
Views that I might have seen
maybe from times when I’ve been
younger, fitter, when health was better.
No funeral means
No awkward reunions
between unmended siblings,
the kids, where a bit of a do
would spoil the day.
And, because it’s MY death,
and it would have been MY day
we’ll just leave it. It'll be better that way.
So none of those daring, glaring
or sympathetic looks.
The disappointment is well in the past.
Do what comes naturally
when I’m long gone. I hope it works
I want no part of it - nor ever did.
But obviously it irks!
But anyway that’s not the only reason
there should be no fuss.
Fuss to benefit not one of us.
I’ve been spiritual, but not religious.
I was parentally shoe-horned into church
but probably wouldn’t have bothered at all
if it’d been left up to me.
I'm happy to like one and all and,
if I got it back, that means I got it right
Being an atheist or agnostic
doesn’t mean you’re a bad person…
It just means you’ve thought it through
and come up with a different answer
than most of the Sunday shufflers,
those who might not question their motives
but just be in that groove. I say Live & Let Live.
What is it THEY say? Be nice to everyone you meet
on the way up… because you never know
who you might meet on the way down!
That about does it. Keep the info sparse.
Always leave them wanting more...
Hedge your bets, cover your ****
And the meek shall inherit the earth
If that's OK with the rest of you.
Me? - Ce’st la vie.
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 10:15 AM UTC
How the rain falls to and fro these dark muddy puddles,
How the waves break and yet there are still no answers,
How the trees wave in the wind with no question.
But why?
The moon shines but there is never a glisten,
The stars have begun to fall.
And so has the chamber
That has held on so long.
It will burst like all other man made connections.
It may fail. And still, man, as a whole will go on
Along with the universe.
But that one chamber will be left unmended
With rents and cracks unfixable by cement.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
when i was fifteen i was a lion-hearted girl
with strong bones and love for myself that crossed seas
i carried myself with sunshine and a smile too big
played melodies on the piano and loved people too much
when i was fifteen i was an ashtray
my warmth was used for kindling and my love to put out fires
my skin started turning black and my heart breaking into pieces
i was still wild-eyed and good
when i was fifteen i was a punching bag
fists touched my ribs most days and fingernails scraped away
chipping at my exterior and tearing my seams to bits
i became cold and unbearing and ruthless, with teeth like a tiger
when i was fifteen i became nothing
buried into soil and left not to grow but to be scavenged
bones broken and unmended, parched lips and stony feet
underground, beaten and crying, dead
(a.m.c.)
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
here
in between the day-dream filaments
and textured passings of seconds
the immovable you, shining
a rendezvous for blinking thoughts
and shadow-bubbles of sensation
slow-floating filters
shifting by
a curtained room
the weaving of sheets
a meeting unattended
and waiting
you were there all along
when light is bended
it changes color,
when it breaks it becomes them all.
it's all right to stay unmended,
embrace your weight
than let it fall.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
I shared a beer and sympathy with a gnarled, obsolete man
Whose wizened visage spoke of unwise choices.
He spoke wistfully (though apropos of nothing) of an abandoned diner
Near the terminus of a truncated and decommissioned road,
Its parking lot an unhappy armistice
Of cracked tarmac and scrub grasses,
The building still sporting caricatures of the proprietors
(The artist a devotee of the Bob’s Big Boy school)
Though time had robbed them of the odd eyeball,
And a shoulder or elbow had faded surreptitiously into the background.
Much of a large sign remained as well,
Appearing to be nothing less
Than some leviathan’s abandoned crossword puzzle,
Fairly shouting “THE B ST DA N STE K
BETW N SYR C SE AND OT T WAOR Y UR MON Y B CK!”
Nothing else remained, my companion intimated,
Save the odd abandoned farmhouse and vestigial fields,
With long unmended barbed-wire fences doing their level best
To contain the ghosts of bygone and unlamented cows.
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
you woke with a fright
to find you were not sleeping
the lies, you're lonely, it's filth
is seeping
into open wounds unmended
pack your bags
you're leaving
to where you do not know
but does it matter?
you say anywhere is more than this,
tell me you'll call when ready
call when you've found your own
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 10:54 PM UTC
.
erasing
he rubbed and grubbed himself out groinally
built up with huffs and gummings of dead skin
all over his body
in his mind mothy thoughts
became dust laden
and a glut of clay amassed in the gut
all this in tomb with his sole role and room
tut-tut he did it to himself
this is his wealth and his jury
peers back through time into the wound
kick started it all
with excessive candy consumption and aggressive firestarting
and compulsive theft and blendlessness and obliving
ever worried ever unmended
arc back through the heart
and refine the child
as unfeigning
and correctly naive
Dec 2, 2024
Dec 2, 2024 at 7:27 PM UTC
From which old, cattle ****
my dearest child, you've found
the tongue that cried a silent entreat
on perilous miles, those perilous miles
peeled out from under your feet
your soul unmended and worn... gone
never coming home to reconcile
What indifference has time gifted?
that empty score you left...
...for the old hearted man
deafening him, with its silence.
He sobs for you, my child, he sobs
with battered old scars, so gray
...as he dreams of you
the child from whom he ran away
Aug 5, 2020
Aug 5, 2020 at 8:38 PM UTC
He stands there in the trench
bullets flying overhead
shrapnel, shattered, lead poisoning
his chest.
Wounds unmended shine in
moonlight
day shifts into night
bleeding, pleading for the right
to stay alive.
Smell of dread and gunpowder
all around
present corpses replace past comrades
death, guts and dirt, splattered
sinking into the ground.
Yet he stands from the coffin
running like a rampant hound
with fury, glory, and a bang
a shot flew through the back of
his head.
The world's a battlefield
and he ended up on the wrong side
but stood, fought, and died
for what seemed right.
Soldiers are meant to carry
a burden on their shoulders
even if it's a boulder, the world,
or an ideal worth the cost.
And humans are defined by their
battles
even when they're lost.
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC