"unreadable" poems
ME?
I am like a riddle
WRITTEN
but
UNREADABLE.
unless
you
know
that
ENDINGS
are
BEGINNINGS.
then
you
know me
as
{INFINITY}
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 4:42 PM UTC
I guess it's over.
Water has spilled all over our ink
and now our words are blurry.
Unreadable.
Unfixable.
But what do you care?
You were the one who tipped
the glass over.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 4:15 PM UTC
What day it is
what place is this
Answer is there
I can see
but cannot see
the book is open
unreadable
the seamless
more I know less
up to the point
I know what I want
till nothing to
wait for
the sour feeling
keeps coming
driving slow
not missing sun's glow
it is bright
like always
beating on its own
the little heart
from its start
many branches
of the root
all stretches
out
to find a better place
participating in
every race
further apart
from where I had started
no closer to the end
it is no better than
if I just stop
midstep
it is not money
not for this journey
all I do
is do it more
candle is melting
all the wax
how can I reform
myself
The structure
all that matters
is that it stands
no fall, no toll
it is not as simple
to make the life boat sail
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 12:46 PM UTC
You know it's time to talk
when the teapot empties
itself, forgotten steam
whistling in and out
our ears. Tell the truth, it's
all about the mist, crawling
in and out of our heads.
delicately painted china
empty of all but dregs
spilling out patterns
depicting surprises
unreadable to all but the blind
changing the addictions
to colorless schemes
of the bitter sweet taste
lingering on our tongues
uncurling to let out the truth.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
There are coffee stains on my notebook.
soft brown plots colonize the corners,
Smearing the ink into almost unreadable scratches.
I love my daily coffee so much that I let it ruin my note book.
And like my morning coffee you have become a staple in my life.
A part of my routine,
Coffee, class, and then you.
And I do not write love poems.
The words never fit into my mouth right,
talking about love always felt like tossing marbles in my mouth,
blurry and unbalanced.
They never came out how I wanted.
But for you I'm willing to try,
I will fight my own tongue until I can tell you what I mean.
Until I can say that I haven't gone a day without coffee since the sixth grade,
and that the idea of going a day without you makes me sick.
Until you know that I will hold your hand like the handle of my favorite mug,
that I'll love any chip or crack you have.
And if you ever feel bitter,
Please know that I will be right here,
because I take my coffee black
And I'm not scared of being burned
But like my morning coffee you’ve started to leave stains on my sleeves,
my hands are tinted from all the times I’ve held yours,
and when I look down and see the small blotches,
I smile,
Because I think of you.
Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 10:13 PM UTC
It is a dictionary in ice.
Pages frozen in place,
the words blurry and unreadable.
All cold and slippery.
I cannot grasp the concrete.
It is a blurry photo.
Unfocused, unmotivated,
unknown.
Discarded as soon as it is found.
It is the waking up
with a dull pounding.
A nap that did not refresh
An exhaustion that never ends
I cannot wake up
cannot end this dull ache
cannot focus
cannot grasp
cannot thaw
cannot do not know
Please wake me up
and clear my head.
Adjust the focus; twist it
and snap a clear picture.
Give me something concrete.
Press it to me
and close my fingers around it.
Then wrap around me
and help me hold on
so this does not slip away, too.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
When her eyes sparkle does it make mine seem dim
deep into your eyes I swim
deeper and deeper
trying to find a trace
a crack of weakness where you drop the armour and let me read your face
But you remain forevermore unreadable like a book in a language unknown to me,
for others girls to read and decode what you are thinking inside, the world that you see
So I take my thoughts from your eyes, take out my paper and pen..to try to solve the puzzle that is you but end up rhyming yet again.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 7:35 PM UTC
Behind these stone cold eyes of grey
Is a companion loyal come what may
Through the night and through day
Loyalty forbidden to go astray
Behind this unreadable ****** expression
Is a heart sculpted in unlikely fashion
Ready to love with blissful abandon
Ready to hate with gruesome passion
Behind this queer nonchalant flamboyance
Is a very well hidden calculative spirit
Very unwilling to leave life to chance
But very willing to cross the sky limit
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 1:26 PM UTC
lovers forgo their faces
defacing in the act
mammering their information to unreadable smudges
they slur in kinetic fluctuation
experimenting material forms fray
each the others face is vented away
betray being human
no separated being
and then...
to return in the tender moments following
a bumbling landfall
then they are athletes
enamoured and praising of the other
flushed and radiating
having rushed the life from their breath
they heave in its return
Later in a **** trip down to the night kitchen
they forgo they faces in a foxes forage
hers ; over-lit by the fridge light
face thrown into a mask by extreme shaddows
his ; beyond this light in the dark
they are bodies
sneak children
the raider and the lookout
after many years make the familiar relation
her face disappears into a hand mirror
and his is pulled out
into a middle distance beyond the dresser
durred in thought and waiting for 'go'
to the restaurant tonite
or that career social that neither wishes to attend
- fell shy of Eden
Sep 11, 2022
Sep 11, 2022 at 8:48 PM UTC
I feel happy
but all I want to do is cry
like I just saw the boogeyman
lurking in between my jackets
and grinning with his
sharpened teeth
With a child on a chain
the name on his collar is
scratched, unreadable
Who?
When I peer from my sheets
all that remains across the room
filled with summer’s breath
I lose my own
He’s gone
The child remains,
back to me,
shivering
but the boogeyman
He’s gone
Where?
Where?
What was I sayi –
Who?
Where?
…
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 6:23 PM UTC
I am feeling lower than ever before
In my head I hold leaden weights
Think I need professional help
Emotions ignored become hard to navigate
Push down pain a little longer
Numb wounds for awhile
Gulp lumps of uneasiness
Conceal misery with a phony smile
Heart broken and bleeding
Hidden from all who look
I have mastered the art of composure
Face an unreadable book
Quiet night is tense and dim
Begging me to sneak off and play
Think I might cave in this one time
I'm scared I won't be able to get away
Under covers I hide in bed
Hoping I will not be found
By weakness and uncertainty
I lay motionless without sound
Trying to sort my issues
Organization isn't really my thing
Prefer to shove difficult subjects in a box
Lock out of sight so I can avoid the sting
Discovered something dull inside me
I found a tool sharper for out
Condemned the skin once considered home
It is easier to not think about
I'm told intensity only worsens with time
A smile hideously glued
Energetic as dying muscles will allow
Wild heart now meek and subdued
Memories will not depart
Echoes of voices loved then lost
Brighter still, rotating faces
Seasons changing sunlight to frost
My head has become a dark dungeon
Trapped there with my dirtiest sins
Watching mistakes as they rattle rusted bars
Capturing worst thoughts caged within
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 7:38 AM UTC
my greatest fear
is mother and father
reading my journals
see through lines
deliberately unreadable
because i write the unthinkable
'i might not marry someday'
and the perverse
*'i wonder what's it like to **** this girl'*
and the abominable
*Amber is a woman trapped in the wrong body
and
she
is
suffocating.*
i choke on the silence
because it is woman's role
in Saturday sermons
because i cannot borrow my brother's slippers
i am not needed outdoors
because when i spoke for the trans waiter with the pained smile
they blamed my sociology
and not my compassion
mother and father, bless your souls
i'd rather not have you read this
and believe in the 'i love you's
because love is the greatest commandment
*but we spit on the ****
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
Your beautiful brown eyes leave me breathless.
When I look deep inside, I leave my world of care & stress.
Dark & moving, they make me gaze with wonder.
When they look at me, I feel upbeat & happy.
I long to discover what is hidden behind the unreadable & straight faced.
Warmth surrounding me, reminding me that I'm safe.
Brown eyes, you're beautiful & you're mine.
~C☆J~
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
17
untold horrors
Innumerable errors
Front of no worries
Inside of painful flurries
Fighting down the guilt
The pain
The fear
The anger
The hate
Of actions
Of the past
Present
Full of resent
Never being good enough
For self standards
3 times
3 full restarts
3 times failed
Sadness
Not being able to be
What is needed
Knowing those laid to rest
Would be ashamed
And Enflamed
Being a self
That is despicable
Unreadable
Disagreeable
Unchanging
Lacking the will
To change
And fulfill
All that is wanted
Knowing that self
Is broken
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 6:53 AM UTC
He showed up with flowers I didn't deserve.
My hair uncontrollable and my dress to short.
He said my name but it held no meaning in his mouth,
spit out without savouring.
I didn't know what to say when he expressed my beauty.
To much wine can make me bold.
Mouth has no filter,
cheeks flushed pink and my smile to free.
My laughter bursting brightly.
I began to notice his smile,
the silkiness of his voice.
He took my hand in his and there was no spark,
no strangled butterflies.
I fumbled awkwardly and he stared to hard.
Eyes unreadable and yet I already knew.
He asked to come in and it hit me,
that I was tired of dreaming of you at my window,
I'm always sitting on the edge of sorrow.
He kissed me so deeply that it's amazing he didn't steal my breath.
********** me with eager hands,
his lips lost on skin.
Eyes closed tightly,
I embrace the moment of letting someone in.
To rough and undeserving,
no emotion,
just need.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
You are that book I love to read...
the one that is unreadable-
no matter how hard I try...
I cant get my head wrapped around you
you are unreadable...
and it's driving me crazy,
because I m sure I am falling for someone
who has no interest in ever catching me...
but I'm not stopping now
id rather fall and get hurt by you...
to take the chance...
than to maybe someday live with the what-if's
and we cant hold hands...
we cant embrace...
there is no physicality involved...
it's lost somewhere in the thousands of miles that separate our hearts
but that doesn't stop me from listening to the saved voice-notes
and saving your photo as my wallpaper
because every time I look into those mystifying
,yet somewhat mocking brown eyes...
my heart skips a few thousand beats
Those bushy black eyebrow's ...
that cute button nose!!
it all makes me hope that someday...
all the goodbye's we text,
will turn into the goodnight's we whisper in each others ears...
but for now I'm fine with smiling at the screen....
for now I'm fine with crying when I play your voice-notes...
blushing when you flirt with me...
because...
for now...
I'm okay with listening to the harmony...
of two heartbeats in the distance
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 4:12 AM UTC
*
Her lips,
Red as blood,
Have a hint of mischief.
Her hair,
Dark as a moonless night,
Twirls gently in the proud breeze.
Her cheeks,
Pink as a baby,
Make the mirror jealous.
Her skin,
Smooth as silk,
Is a flawless canvas.
Her eyes,
Blue as an ocean,
Are treasures of her hidden emotions.
Her touch,
Soft as a mother’s,
Can make any pain go away.
Her voice,
Melodious as a nightingale's,
Will drift you into an oblivion.
Her smile,
Sweet as honey,
Could make Mona Lisa shy.
Her gaze,
Steady as an eagle’s,
Is unreadable.
She,
Bewildering as mother earth,
Is a rainbow of emotions.
*
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 6:44 AM UTC
Sprung, from beauteous filth,
The lies and gradation of the un wed saints
Hung, from gracious guilt,
The death and oration of the un sung and faint
Led, from grounded earth,
The soulless narration of the unloved taint
Believing is all when your all is a lie,
The smell of defeat in the blink of her eye,
The way you never fail to surprise the easily shockable,
Revealing that all was a lie of your life,
The decay of a scent from the skirt of the pile,
The path you never chose to really surmise the unreadable, uncollectable
Paid, to believe this girth,
The salt and salvation of unborn wealth,
Laid, the solution of all their faith,
The untouchable wrath and indignation of lifeless whelps,
Said, to ears that deceive all truth,
The unsinkable feeling you and your friends try not to avoid
Swaying in time to a common hope thief,
The guileless age and her sense of relief,
I thought i just told you to leave love at the door,
Poison and ruptured the stale old lies,
A night of betrayal and blood on these tiles,
Faithless, inauguration a purpose that you belie,
Lover, sweet mother, joker, and harpies with scales combine,
Hater, sweet undertaker, all is within, a touch to cold skin and a world you can't deny,
Believers, my underachievers, fornicate how to the march of the rain, a lifelong ambition that's driven in pain, a rusty disease that you spread with a knife, a guiltless decision made by his wife, a turning old format that withers and screams, a breathless recognition, we all fail to grin, just wait on the inkline to say what you want, I’m turning these covers and buying the bought, ******* the sweetness to boldly deny, that all these suspicions were aroused in the night, a turning, a quickening, a life on the rails, this one ****** mess i can't wash from my nails, so thorough, so clean, yet so impure it's not true, i tried to remake what i thought couldn't be you, but all indication now points to my spine, the tossing and yearning beneath valentine, i am the weather that spoils your day, please hold my ears as she screams my name.
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 4:48 PM UTC
Reaching my third year in college and still remembering the past easily really means that time spares no one or no memory. We could all grow out of our old skins to realize that our new shells are just as hollow as ever, deeming hopeless in life and its travesty. Nevertheless, that's what makes us so human, bleeding out our murderous thoughts and spilling it onto paper. The feeling of wanting to empty yourself to be a coreless vessel again, void of any emotions, unreadable to a living soul. Some of us get there faster with a pen, or even a blade, each of us digging deeper to our own little numb world, to ease the pain of conflict within or to put out the flames that are thirsty for oxygen, until the very wicker within us crumbles to dust. Back to where we started off. Fine as the dirt beneath our feet with no sign of life and no capsule of memory.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 10:52 AM UTC
Paper soulmates
Drawn together by fate
Glued into each other's lives persistently
As we are paper soulmates we are prone wear and tear
Torn paper is truly unfixable
You can only try to sellotape together what has been torn apart
Scrunched paper can't truly be smoothed out again,
there is still going to be evidence of past experience
Our story Inked onto the pages of our body
Stained by water, the ink smudges off of us
Our stories ??
unreadable
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 4:06 AM UTC
My dictation program has an accent
It types out the most unreadable things,
When I say something like " my bunion stings",
It types back to me about onion rings.
There have been embarrassing moments
When I was chatting along quite normally.
I found myself feeling very thankful
That I hadn't been chatting formally.
The conversation needn't be special,
Nor use any esoteric phrases.
But some of the crap this program prints
Astounds, stultifies and amazes.
It can't be brushed off as an accent thing;
My speech is quite non-dialectic.
Sometimes it seems that Apple, Inc
Wants to render me apoplectic.
But, the way it is I have no human beings
That I can focus my frustration on
When something that company sells at a store
Turns me into an unwitting pawn.
As it is it's an iPhone and I can't pity it
When I hit "send" too fast and seem an idiot.
It’s possible I am asking far too much
Of the current reach of technology.
Even though our phones seem part of us
They aren’t really part of our anatomy.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 1:49 AM UTC
Not many people understand me
And that's okay because
I don't want to be understood
I don't want to be a
Basic picture I want to be
A complex painting
I want to be unreadable,
Unpredictable
I want to be different
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
When I sit down in front of the mirror,
deal a hand,
(once for me, once for me)
I find my opponent’s face to be unreadable.
And I win,
(I do every time we play)
And I throw my cards down in front of me
taking back the chips I’d raised.
Again, I face the loser
surprised by the bitterness on their face
(though I really should expect it by now)
And this time I wonder:
is it worth winning
if you always lose?
Jan 21, 2021
Jan 21, 2021 at 8:44 AM UTC
Your shoes,
I saw them lying neatly
Side by side upon the bridge.
Laces untied; socks in a crumpled bundle inside
As if you had just stepped out of them,
As if you had just left them on somebody else's doorstep.
Gingerly, I picked them up.
In the air I let my questions hang.
At what point in your life
Did these blood-red sneakers turn almost white?
Since when did its crisp signature logo
Turn into an unreadable smudge?
Worn out and faded,
Tattered and almost unrecognizable,
I barely knew the thing I was holding in my hands…
Perhaps you were too busy running
To even notice its deteriorating condition?
Never mind the cracks on the surface,
The thinning soles already caked in mud,
As long as they take you away from the darkness
Which seems to follow you everywhere.
For the last time, these shoes have served you.
Brought you in this unlikely place, on this very bridge.
Where you left them lying neatly side by side
As you took the way out, barefoot.
Hoping someone would step into them,
Feel for answers with their own toes.
And finally understand that
There were no haunting shadows in your pursuit
Because all this time
The darkness has always been inside you.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 9:47 PM UTC
Two poems got away last night when I was dozing
bolted out the door
before I knew it
laughing like fools
Stole my last two beers
and they were gone
“Ya see, officer,
They didn't have their names yet
so they don't know themselves at all
or to answer if I call
They misbehaved and
Never learned there's rules out there
I'm a lousy poet parent, yeah,
I know
I shoulda been tougher on 'em
Half their words 'er scattered
twisted, misspelled, unreadable, inept
with rhythms all askew 'n weighted wrong
They will surely fall over their own lines
and into big shit-trouble
***** little scribbles!
sorta clumsy like their mother"
Meanwhile, the grammar cop is thinking,
“They do not pay me enough for this!
I'm looking for children of the village idiot and a *****
"...Across the yard and down the alley
They must've run
Hopin' they didn't figure out the stick
on the Toyota
I'll never see 'em again
Pretty sure they got my keys"
The cop is nodding, bored, polite
but I notice
He's written all this down
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 3:57 AM UTC