"unmistakeable" poems
no more.
no more coming of age indie movies.
no more love stories, love songs.
no more wanting what I can't have.
there used to be a time,
when my doubts would come bursting into my life, loud and unmistakeable.
and now when I crawl into bed at night,
I sometimes notice them there;
sleeping soundly, because I'm not.
lying peaceful, dormant.
accepted and tucked in.
because I'm not.
I could embrace them.
and still be alone.
or I could kick them to the curb;
and disappear.
no more.
no more summer nights without a care.
no more night walks without a jacket.
no more comfort, no more rest.
my doubts will stay sleeping,
so long as I don't.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
The glint of a gold coin discarded and under a hedge.
The unmistakeable ***** and ****** of the shrapnel congregating at the bottom of my pocket.
I can find any combination of currency in a lovely jingle jangle of metallic discs.
The cashier slips me a note and some change on top which spills onto the counter.
A 10 pence piece tries an audacious spinning escape morphing into a ball.
The change rattles again as it all settles at the bottom of my pocket after dropping in the new recruits.
I slide the discoloured crinkled creased five pound note into my leather wallet nicely nestling next to a ten pound note.
I love the smell of ***** money!
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 3:14 AM UTC
Caught sight of me,
Sprinted towards me at full speed.
Left me disoriented at impact,
You knew, for you, I was the perfect catch.
Pretented to mend me,
While feeding me poison ever so sweetly.
Lifted me up and set me firmly
On a chair cemented to the ground- you were all I could see.
Every now and then
You illuminated my world with false light.
Your stone cold hands caressed me,
Created a fire only you could ignite.
Through time I grew accustomed,
With time came wisdom.
I was able to finally open my eyes, finally got my freedom.
It was unmistakeable, your malice,
I saw through you like cheap sunglasses.
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 10:07 PM UTC
She is the angry burn of alcohol.
The choking feeling when you've taken too many shots
in too little time.
She is the fire in your chest when brave little you took a hit bigger than the clouds in the Seattle sky.
She is the unmistakeable
unshakeable
fear
brought on by the bad acid trip.
The pinch,
poke,
& sting
of the needles in your arm.
She is the abused substances
and she is the abuse
that drove you to them.
She is twice as addictive
three times as dangerous
and there are no Twelve Steps
or support groups
or miraculous stories of survival.
You'll never be clean again.
s.mndi
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
My sports car’s bumper is redder than your pale lips,
And it’s Parrelies blacker than your silver flecked hair.
The TSW mags are genuine chrome, not only the lightly rooted tips,
And the smooth, glossy bonnet not wrinkled like your dial from care.
The seats are a plush tan, not a stark, unsightly white like you,
And the V12’s rev is an unmistakeable sound.
The speedometer reads 360, if ever beaten, only by a few,
And when I’m done it resides in splender, and not six foot underground.
The shatterproof windshield is clearer than your misty grey eyes,
And its model number reads 2004, not a dozen and three score more.
The Ferrari I own is the best that money buys,
And it makes me proud to say, “It’s mine!”, not a nuisance for 40years I’ve bore.
Now when Top Car says Ferrari 2005 I’ll need another,
But my love for you is timeless and can be filled by none other!
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 4:54 AM UTC
I know who you are
I know who I’d like to be.
You’re the reason I live
Will you spend life with me?
I make you smile
Every single day
But I’d love to be the reason
Your spirit never strays.
The rain was falling on my head
Now it’s disappeared
The leaves are crushed under my boots
The breeze is still.
We hold gloved hands
But I still feel your skin.
I memorised your laugh
Before it grew dim.
It’s time to gather around the tallest tree
And put aside our daydreams.
We’ll always be friends
But like the season, I fall for you.
Like remembering sunsets
Your words don’t fade.
They’re colours that burst
From a single shade.
Unmistakeable
Like a butterfly kiss.
You gravitate me
In moments like this.
The rain was falling on my head
Now it’s disappeared.
20th-21st June 2017
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 8:39 PM UTC
Memory Lane
can be lethal, you know;
it fills the cracks between your skin and
occupies the spaces between your fingers.
Trudging along its narrow path
can cause you to trip on everything behind you
without even trying to,
allowing the colours of every sky
to fill the depths of your beating heart
only to freeze it right in place.
A plague of some sort
bringing pangs and plunges of unmistakeable euphoria
and nostalgia
and realization of the drastic ephemeral nature
of anything and everything—amazement and wonder
lead by sorrow and loss.
Because Memory Lane is a traveller,
a nomad in this mind of yours,
unable to settle on specifics so it sets its net
on everything around it, bringing back sentiments of
every little thing
you thought you had forgotten.
It sets up camp in every crevice of your spine,
leading the way
but always waiting for
no one.
gd
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 9:43 PM UTC
This is my body.
You know it. You touch my teeth with your fingers, my imperfect teeth. The teeth I brought home from the Czech Republic after pulling off my braces with pliers, after not having a toothbrush or fluoridated water for half of a year, you tell me that you love me and my teeth. You know they make me so uncomfortable.
You lay beside me in bed. You put your right hand in my left hand, your right leg over my left leg, and you tell me that your boyfriend is only your boyfriend because he was the opposite of your ex. He's not the one you want to be with, he's the one you just happen to be with.
I tell you we shouldn't kiss until it's over between the two of you.
This is my body, it's driving the car you're in. I fill up the gas tank and ask you where you'd like to go. You say you'd like to go anywhere. I drive us through Chicago, we go up one street and then down the next. I drive us downtown on Lake Shore Drive, across the city on Grand Avenue and over to Ohio, then I put us on the highway and then I take us off. We take North Avenue from I-94 to Wells to Lincoln and then North again until the car runs out of gas again. I fill up the car with gas, again.
I look at your face, your hair, your hands and your legs, I love your legs, your face, your lips, and the words coming out of your mouth.
I didn't know I could be happy like this again. I didn't know I could be so attracted to someone's body and so attracted to someone's mind- at the same time. I tell you that you should break up with him before we kiss, even though I just want to kiss you now. I want to kiss you now and now and now and now, and we start making promises, we start telling each other that there are rules for how to live life by understanding it. You understand your life and you understand me in it. I understand you and trust everything you say. You're right, brave, brilliant, and beautiful. I love the sound of your voice and the words you choose to use.
I'm sure we've known each other for over a decade. This is my body. This is your body. We are perfect and animated towards one another, and I like it, I love it. And I'm so ******* lucky.
I never have been as brave nor as bold as you've shown me I can be. I could be so brave and full of grace and excitement, and enchanted immensely by every gesture and breath that comes from you. I had previously been riddled with immense insanity before we met. I was sworn towards unmistakeable insanity, and doomed to a life of solitude and sadness, I had lived in a wash of thick melancholy, and I knew, and my friends agreed that my body and I would never know happiness, pleasure, or awesomeness anymore.
You're driving me happily crazy. Fueled by unmistakeable excitement, and on the way towards a future of wildly enticing momentus togetherness.
You and your little dog too.
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 2:39 AM UTC
I've never been close to the holy father
He's never really been close to me either
We have a mutual kind of distance
Looking back i can see why honestly
I am no guardian angel or even angel
I am an undertaker of masses
I am the essence of genocide
I embody mindless ******
I am a Scarlett Angel
Bringing absolution
Bringing blood
I am here now
I am the end
A ****** one
An unmistakeable horror
I am not a fiend though
I am sent at the right time
To end the evil that plagues this world
I break backwards every one of the rapists joints
Like a horror story monster
I devour the mad scientist
I strangle the political dictator
I have no shape
I am here to end it all
I am the blood hound
I hunt evil
I am death
You will come kicking and screaming.
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 11:02 PM UTC
This house, it breathes,
Beneath brick and plaster board,
Within the confines of creaking
Floorboards and closed doors,
It exhales the dreams of sleeping
Souls,
It inhales the stars and the clouds,
The distant echoes of car alarms
And the unmistakeable bark
Of a dog that is carried by the wind,
I lay in bed,
Nestled in the sheets,
Head on the pillow,
I feel the earth move beneath me,
I feel the expanse of a brickwork
Ribcage,
I am calm, I am content.
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
You are not the roses' thorn
an overused trope in poetry
a metaphor beaten so close to death
that I'd be shocked to see it walk
You are not the sun's rays
beating down on me
constantly reminding me
of their presence
You are beyond words
You are beyond definition
How am I supposed to say with 26 letters
that which I couldn't say with a thousand
You are ethereal
You grace is unmistakeable
You are not of this world
therefore we could never be
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 2:10 AM UTC
The sweetest wine to be had
Withers untouched on the vine
Bound by time
Bound by these chains of lace
Unbreakable the crimson smile
Idle wild eyes
The spies unmistakeable
See secrets of my soul
Secrets and lies
Beautiful the scars dispised
That remember the fires of yesteryear
Apr 30, 2012
Apr 30, 2012 at 1:13 AM UTC
i want to paint a picture
the canvas stands in front of us
we're holding hands
the brushes in our others
staring at the canvas we begin to paint
a picture that we love and so many others hate
we paint OUR starry night.
a nightmare for van gogh but a dream that i know that
i want to last
no blending of colors in moments past
stars in the sky and the moon in a haze
we'ew barely breathing, comatose, but so awake
i could see the wind stirring the sky around and inside
as a torrential zephyrous blaze
so deep, so untameable, so true
and it flew.
into the page
as each stroke glints in your eye and in mine
i cry.
its so beautiful i cry
and the stars cry with me.
no color recreatable
no lie its unmistakeable.
our love is a masterpiece.
every masterpiece is incomplete.
let's paint for eternity.
Mar 8, 2012
Mar 8, 2012 at 7:03 PM UTC
inspecting momentarily
the visiting sulphur-crested cockatoos
leave our pine-tree for another, further down the hill
en masse, they fly towards and just above us,
their screeches, loud and unmistakeable
are full of enthusiasm and intent
some, slightly smaller in size, are silent
I wonder if they’re the understudies of the chorus
closely following flight-lines of their elder’s character and bravado
these beautiful creatures, so independently defined
raise a cacophony that exhilarates
every fibre of the soul and fills the heart with laughter
self-less, expanding and enraptured
I briefly lift to the massing of their flight:
a complete and joyful glimpse, of full participation
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
It’s only through a straw that we can view our perspective. I woke up in a haze, like always, it’s like I’ve never known clarity. The beauty of the world was unmistakeable from the general point of view. Anybody can look at the sunset on and clear day to truly believe in the importance of self-expression. These colors reflecting off the sun and energies of our world to transform our reality into a techno color dream that can melt any doubt of reason. But this wasn’t the case today. Today was cloudy. The dreams I woke up into were of fantasy and foe. I travel to a distant place of wild parallel universes, possibilities really. The dream tends to move and shape by my energy or my will. Active energy is what moves this cell. In cells are atoms and the wind is plasma. It is only well known that our conscious minds are in fact the reality that we exist in. That whole sentence can be seen as redundant. Transparently we open up in our own way. Everybody has their heart on their sleeve as a part of nature. Some fail to recognise it. We are still developing and growing. A beautiful transitioning stage in life and evolution. It is the biggest time of advancement in our conscious existence. Roses and flowers is what we are. We grow and bloom in the most beautiful and vibrant motion. Feel amazing, you were born to feel amazing. It is what draws us to life. Plans aren’t real, neither is time or a schedule. We move for existence naturally. You can believe that it’s not about working. You can challenge the reality you have by expressing you energy and activating your mind. The more you open your mind and digest information willingly without instant belief or doubt and concur on your truthful first person observations, you can achieve mental freedom and liberation. Not trying new things hurts you more. You control your survival level to an extent to choose to thrive. Adventure isn’t always risk it is growth. Growth comes from within. You chose to grow. Relaxing, disconnect for a while and fall into your imagination. It’s there for you to use at your free will. It is seemingly infinite. It is beauty in its own form, awaken. Freedom to eat and freedom to starve. Choose time, or choose money, one is freedom.
Cleanse the mind, cleanse the body, cleanse your energy, see clarity, gain perspective, shed layers and realize truth.
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC
Oh how this world spins fast,
Where a teenage life does barely last
As I remember events gone past
But for the future I seek
(Can I have a little peek?)
Some events I would like to occur
And to futuristic sight-seeing I will refer
I want to know if I am capable
Of something unmistakeable:
Love
I want to love again
Have another young love
Be truly free, the soaring dove
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
I have a poetic bone in my body, I swear; I've seemed to misplace it
I'll search inside the cabinets, within the threads of my bedsheets
maybe you've withheld it in your eyes
breaking it with your icy glare,
maybe you enjoyed hearing it crack and shatter into pieces,
was the dissonance music to your ears?
i thought i saw it the other day, chasing the hand you walked out on,
funny how it could've escaped my grasp
when I once held it so close like the proverbial hand of cards,
a treasured piece of myself.
I can hear it now, it reverberating through the forest like the drumbeat of your heart.
Toying with me, a little girl attached to the strings of a puppeteer
suspending itself among the wind chimes that whisper melodies to the wind
it hangs there, taunting me with gut wrenching lullabies, torturing my every-waking moment
with the unmistakeable clinging of its own remnants.
I don't know if it'll ever return to me; do i even want it to?
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
Death,
Broken hearts,
Black as night,
Red as blood,
The unmistakeable coldness,
Grief
Dec 26, 2010
Dec 26, 2010 at 11:26 PM UTC
Faith
is a funny thing to me.
The unmistakeable certainty
that things are the way the ought to be,
or will be one day, if you just believe,
and I've never been one to really see
the truth in that.
I've never believed in destiny,
but i'm not one to disagree
with feelings that people take to lead
their mind in positivity
It's a funny thing.
But I have always been certain
there are no blue prints.
And life is made up of a bunch of
decisions,
that you make day to day,
and the things that you say,
affect you in the long run.
I believe in action and reaction.
And every motion or potion, or
silly little notion,
every emotion and
all of your devotions have
consequence.
I believe in evidence.
Circumstance.
And the ability to change,
because everything cannot turn out the same
despite our decisions,
our brief intermissions,
cheap ammunition,
and limited provisions,
I have never had "faith" that things would be okay.
I just tried with every ounce of me to
make it that way.
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 5:35 PM UTC
Like teenagers in a bedroom
We giggle
As the record player
Spins
Ashes to ashes
Felicity lies sprawled
On the couch
In her pinkest bra
And *******
Funk to funky
One black stiletto
Is on the floor
The other freely
Swings from her toes
We know Major Tom’s..
She exhales the smoke
I drain the bottle
In my head, once more
The colours explode
A ******
The room holds
The unmistakeable sweet smell
Of ***
Two days of ***
Strung out in heaven’s…
Her eyes glaze over
I hate pink and yellow
She spits
Oh, and light blue
..High
I hate you, I lie
Then we ****
With anger, savage
As she has mocked the colours
Hitting an all-time..
The record player sticks
Stilettos and bottles
Litter the floor
Slowly I withdraw
..Low
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 4:42 PM UTC
it's pain
missing someone you know
you can never see again
but it's a special kind of torture
to miss the man sitting right
next to me
has he left yet?
an imminent departure that
looms ominously in the future
concrete and yet nebulous in
its heat-wrenching reality
but am i not already gone
departed from this bag of bones
the sack of flesh
that holds your hand
physically next to you but
miles away
lost
in the shadow world of
haze and fog
detached so that you can't
be ripped from my heart
or at least
i won't be able to feel it
like a ghost reaching for the
tenuous solidity of life
you slip right through my fingers
the last drops of water
in the barren wasteland of
famine and drought
sun scorched earth
desert land parched with
cracks running like
fault lines
and i'm waiting for the earthquake
the meteor impact
for a chasm to open up and
devour me
to take away my agency
so i won't have to die
by my own hand
but what else am i to do?
i am a rapidly swirling
hurricane
a typhoon of uncontrollable
emotion and thoughts
chained to the white matter
tethered to my brain
scratching away as a constant
reminder that you're leaving
and i'll once more be
abandoned
alone
nothing
but loneliness is a familiar friend
am i a monster?
or just a machine
trundling towards the
end of the tracks
the derailment of my
tenuous sanity
and i welcome the carnage
the shards of glass and
twisted metal that
harkens back to the
burdening truth inside that
i'm still here and the
pain is unbearable
and i'm broken
like a swallow's shattered wing
i try to fly but
that gelatinous appendage
can't bear me to the sky
so i fall and pass you
on the way down
and i never expected you to catch
me
you didn't
but your face
that blur registering only
as that unmistakeable longing
that soul crushing emotion that
settles in my heart and
clogs the arteries until
its furious beats are choked out
but i welcome death
because i live in those
tenuous moments between
the last heartbeat
and the cessation of neural firings
i'm drowning
i can't keep my head above water
but the burning in my lungs
can't distract me from
that ripping clawing terror
in my chest
and not even death can
erase the gaping
empty
vacuum
you leave in your wake.
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
It’s a sin, you know it is,
I know it too every time our eyes meet,
every time we touch hands or lay down
to have a coffee in pleasure’s covenant.
Every time we pray to hold on to that moment forever,
moaning indiscernible thoughts that only we can hear,
grunting, panting, we caress the dark abyss
of sinful unmistakeable delight.
Nirvana, so tactile in its abstract nature,
we can touch it, feel its energies pulsing through our veins,
racing up and down
between the tip of our feet and the crown of our cortex,
Your piece of raw flesh infusing my fingers
with a sensory overload,
my body trembling in powerless agony
against your onslaught of sensation.
It’s a sin, you know it is,
to hell and back I’ll go and take you with me
on this wild ride to feel the smoldering fire of your lips
burning me from the inside out.
And should we never return
from amongst the searing flames,
I know the chilling warmth of your loving gaze
would make me feel right at home.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 7:59 AM UTC
It's a yell
A shout
A scream
and it's unheard. Believe me, when I
say I am not what I seem to be
when I am smiling
when I am grimacing
and I am wishing that I could do it
"just like normal people do"
But the word "Anxious" is soaked
like a tattoo down to my bone, until
I feel so alone that I wish I could eat myself
Snake scales slowly sliding into place
As, with each new word, I slowly want
to trickle sand
and
erase my
embarrassment
All too aware of
harassment which doesn't exist
I can't even begin to give you a list
of the amount of ways I felt this
hole, this weight, this unmistakeable
slayer of my breath
make me feel bereft again of
society, and friendship,
and love,
My brain is constantly praying for that dove
with an olive branch
Just to take a stance over my head
and let me be led into freedom
But instead
My mentality lies in tatters
and what is left
wholesome is scattered
with fear on the wind,
gradually allowing itself to rescind
until it turns, reforms, and falls
again
I never know when it's going to strike
Usually it's when I start to like somebody new,
that it begins to brew up it's toxic mess
Friend, Other or Lover,
it will find a way to slither and make
less again,
So nuh-uh, no way, not again,
I refuse to look you in the eye,
because I'm scared I'll cry if I see my fear there,
I'm scared I'll see that you're aware, that my fear
is slowly drowning me, and crowning
me the Queen of
Isolation,
lost and uncertain
Wishing I could pull the curtain, but still
blindly hoping that audience will
come to, will see the tattoo
and not be disgusted.
I don't want to be distrusted, because every sorry
is laden with uncertainty and regret, that's it
not over yet, and the monster still holds
me by the throat,
I am bathed in mistrust's yolk
And I wish I could smell of something different.
But, I take a deep breath, and I let
another war begin.
Because every day I stare into another's
pupil, is
another day I kinda, sorta,
win.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
Let me tell you something about falling in lust before falling in love:
They say the first cut cuts the deepest,
the first kiss lasts the longest and
the first goodbye will always be the hardest.
But only now do I realize we were never really in love,
but rather in great—crazy great—unmistakeable lust.
Lust: hands in your hair, and yours travelling downwards
leaving a trail of fire in your path as it runs down my spine
and seeps through my skin to poison my heart.
By the end of it all my heart sat frozen in place,
unable to beat to anyone except you,
leaving it feeling cold and still
like the bottom of the ocean.
But if I was ice, Love, you were nothing but flames,
engulfing and suffocating.
Lust, sweet lust,
like a never-ending dream, so real but so temporary.
And when the sun is hidden by the clouds
and when the rain starts to pour
and when the wind picks up to the rhythm of our paces in sync
and so intertwined, well, there's nothing left but a catastrophe—
a sweet ephemeral tragedy.
See, Love, we may have been great
and crazy and frozen and burned
but rain washes that all away,
not even nice enough to leave any evidence behind.
The first lust doesn't cut . . . it stabs,
and it has just forced me to spill new blood on old pieces of paper.
gd
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
I know who you are
I know who I’d like to be.
You’re the reason I live
Will you spend life with me?
I make you smile
Every single day
But I’d love to be the reason
Your spirit never strays.
The rain was falling on my head
Now it’s disappeared
The leaves are crushed under my boots
The breeze is still.
It’s time to gather around the tallest tree
And put aside our daydreams.
We’ll always be friends
But like the season, I fall for you.
We hold gloved hands
But I still feel your skin.
I memorised your laugh
Before it grew dim.
The rain was falling on my head
Now it’s disappeared
The leaves are crushed under my boots
The breeze is still.
It’s time to gather around the tallest tree
And put aside our daydreams.
We’ll always be friends
But like the season, I fall for you.
(instrumental)
Like remembering sunsets
Your words don’t fade.
They’re colours that burst
From a single shade.
Unmistakeable
Like a butterfly kiss.
You gravitate me
In moments like this.
It’s time to gather around the tallest tree
And put aside our daydreams.
We’ll always be friends
But like the season, I fall for you.
The rain was falling on my head
Now it’s disappeared.
20th-21st June 2017
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC