"unreeling" poems
A noiseless patient spider,
I marked where on a promontory it stood isolated,
Marked how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launched forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be formed, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somwhere, O my soul.
4k
Frustrated; my mind unreeling
How my soul craves the feeling
My very blood rushes, coursing.
Flesh burning, crawling, scorching.
To be desired, felt, and held
Fingers whispering all words withheld
All before believed fictitious
Reality found between these kisses
The sweet peace of after thought
My breath gone; all of it you sought
My eyes only into yours, do stare
Even in my dreams, eternally, I swear
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC
I will write these words with all that I have, and I will beg for your sake and not mine to be let down time and time again, to fall forty feet and hit the concrete until it's dyed red. I am not a delicate human, I am not someone who can sit still, I will fill my lungs and body with fire and desire, I will **** the good to spite the bad and beg the good to come back,
baby come back.
I don't want to be like the one I hate, I don't want to hurt everything in the way of me, I don't want to be a selfish broken thing, I don't want to be this, but I am scared, and very few care to hear that because I've said it for years, and I know how exhausting it must be to try to heal me.
But I never ******* asked for your attempts.
It's exhausting to see the sun and acknowledge it's presence, how you wish it could make you feel. It's exhausting to feel your chest close off and your lungs collapse for minutes at a time because something isn't going right, it's exhausting to refuse love and induce yourself into a numb coma of emptiness and lies and black voids for words. Everything I say means nothing, for I am empty, I am empty until I get stung. I get stung and I am scared.
I am scared to feel, I am scared to love.
I am so ******* scared to love anyone.
I am scared to be left.
I am just scared.
I am so scared and it is nauseating.
I **** up,
I make mistakes,
I am unreeling and I am learning
and I am young
and I am exploding
and trying and wanting
and I am also so haunted.
I don't know how to fight off my demons unless it evolves unspeakable things, but I sure as hell know how to summon them too constantly, I sure as hell know how to play with them and make them love me, I know how to manipulate them to where they don't want to leave.
I'm scared they never will.
I don't want to be saved,
I want to drown, I want to fall, I want to escape.
I want to be resurrected by your hate.
I want to be love in a really ugly place.
I don't need this. I never did.
I am sorry for being this way but love,
I'm not sorry for being me.
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:47 PM UTC
Real lies, unreal thing
Light me up just take a puff
Then once more until you huff
And again with feeling
Feel your life unreeling
Unrelenting
**Real eyes
Disillusioned**
Lungs replete with cloud of one thousand burning trees
Avert your gaze, look beyond the haze
So you'll fail to notice I etched the stress as wrinkles in your face
and smothered your Eros, imbued void in its place
**Realize
Dissolution**
Whether its reward or solace you seek
Inhale me, the vapors of your saving grace
I am everything you've hated to love and loved to hate
Unrepenting
*Now exhale your pain
Oh exalted Soul
Pity I bring you no relief
Rather, wield a sword*
Now as I overwhelm
And pull you down under
You can take the helm
But your vessels asunder
Your heart and lungs are now black
I harbor plague, yet still you'll come back
Because your peace of mind rests with me
In these most tumultuous tides
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 4:02 AM UTC
I am
A daughter, a sister, a woman
A teenager, a deep thinker, an individual
A friend, a fighter, a protector
I am
A believer in justice
A ferocious warrior
A force to be reckoned with
I am
Strong, determined, stubborn
Loyal, trustworthy, steadfast
Powerful, seeing, undenied
I am
Hearing, consoling, knowing
Feeling, never kneeling
Unreeling, seething, seeking
I am
A wielder of justice
My blade is my tongue
Dripping with poison
Blazing with righteous wrath
- Jay M
September 7th, 2021
Oct 6, 2021
Oct 6, 2021 at 12:18 PM UTC
We have Exerted efforts, yet we got no recognition,
They showed no plans in their might’s.
Shining, yet discrimination bites off,
Your people cannot go full throttle in their flights.
Two years, I am only hiding,
though we are part of the unreeling circle as informed,
Which extends up to the core of our hungry heart,
looking for equality, to unlock the doors
waiting and waiting, to release this wicked feeling free,
We are castaways not until we seek as we hunt and flee,
as we dedicate and pursue one hundred percent,
but this Society cannot dedicate enough in return,
as we live in deep dark angst every time,
We are socially deprived and violated, oh ****** heart.
For a farewell bid will never be an issue
I am building my will, let us be, and we'll get through.
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 5:13 PM UTC
Why are others mouths inclined to draw the pictures I try to scribble out that form inside my mind?
A worthless, spineless creature- almost serpentine, wriggling on its belly baring cyanic, lachrymal eyes.
I want to squirm from this Stygian tomb, disenthrall my thoughts from the shadows swimming with me
inside this amniotic pool. I'm just a worthless fetus, a crumbling parasite and perhaps it becomes more
obvious when I try to keep it out of sight, like a stench you try to hide; Dulcify decomposition with a rain
of fragrant petals and slowly you'll come to find that magnolias smell of death, I can taste it
slightly on my breath and it whets their appetite, the demons that stink of ammonia that gather every
night orchestrating their symposia, their bellies full of laughter and drink while I'm full of minacious,
eternal thoughts that writhe through plumbless wrinkles and ichor, questioning motivation and what it
is I fight for. I can never find the right answers... My tongue won't grasp the words, they just slip back into
their couthy throat where they can't be ignored; Left to die upon the shore, as fuscous waves that stain
sand with rejection crash against my shattered form. My hands crack trying to flip the hourglass back
and my eyes are constantly attacked by depression's thalassic pulchritude, a multitude of pains swaying
to and fro in veins, begging for escape but trying to stay encased. Life nulls and denudes, my aptitude
for feeling- my natural ability to hold things close without unreeling heartstrings. Keep reading, there'll
be no eucatastrophe just endless pages of pointless animosity and tragedies accompanied by laugh
tracks, everyone loves a jester with a proper act and I act a proper klutz futzing around with letters and
spelling, trying to ensorcell any being to find my misery compelling.
-SLuR
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC
But then we cry with no tears
and we scream with no voice
How do we run with no space
and walk away while in the same place?
We hide in plain view
and choke while breathing
can our heart stop and keep beating
can the rain fall and never touch ground
can the cut burn with no bleeding
can we win without succeeding
will there ever be healing from pain unreeling?
The silence is so loud
the laughter so silent
the tear drop so resilient
to the happy smile shielding it
Will there be love and no hope
or faith with no rope
If the sun never rises
It'll never set over open horizons
so when the darkness is too bright
and the wrong seems right
and the good becomes bad
no more will we allow ourselves to be sad
happy are the few who see it
happy are the ones who defeat it
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 11:02 PM UTC
if you think these words are about you,
then you would be right
I want to say wrong things
because I want to fight
how childish of me
to pine for your attention
to watch from afar with some heated affection
I am terribly hung up on my feelings
I want you to be a part of my continuous unreeling
to burn my skin
with the trace of your fingertips
I want to make you shut up
with my mouth
I dislike and like you at the same time
and all that comes to fruition
is this jumbled,
jumpy,
jaded poem.
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
Chewing upon fingers rotten and curled
knowing everything makes sense in a senseless world
inglorious, bedridden, they hide behind trees -
serving up genocide, well-spoken and civilised
clawing at the insides of our sordid society
wearing TNT like it's the latest fashion
they smile politely and walk upon our streets -
brainwashed and stupefied, Dumb-hounds corrupted and paralysed
crawling down the path of a religion
birthed from self-righteousness and bomb-smoke
upon their jealousy, their juvenile blinding faith
we suffocate, gag and choke
visualising the world from eyes
of despotic marauders
selfish needs defeats the objective
desensitised clones bound to extremist orders
innocence green-eyed and bastardised
reciting prayers bound together with cyanide
they call upon a Lord that no longer cares
alas the tendril of insanity catches them unawares
for 'tis within the womb of bloated belief
that martyrs are bred,
sanity unreeling, dangerously unfeeling,
and willing to allow our streets run red.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
I wander down
Old Macon Road
The countless years unreeling
I love the taste
Of yesterday
Reliving every feeling
I wander by
The old home place
To gaze through cracked old panes
The laughing ghosts
Are looking back
As it begins to rain
A sudden storm unleashes
And the memories
Fade once more
Just a house
With falling clapboards
As winds blow off a door
I wander down
Old Macon Road
As I have done so often
Now back to sleep
Till Gabe’s ole horn
In my old rusty coffin
Jul 13, 2010
Jul 13, 2010 at 7:37 AM UTC
It was a place of force --
The wind gagging my mouth with my own blown hair,
Tearing off my voice, and the sea
Blinding me with its lights, the lives of the dead
Unreeling in it, spreading like oil.
I tasted the malignity of the gorse,
Its black spikes,
The extreme unction of its yellow candle-flowers.
They had an efficiency, a great beauty,
And were extravagant, like torture.
There was only one place to get to.
Simmering, perfumed,
The paths narrowed into the hollow.
And the snares almost effaced themselves --
Zeros, shutting on nothing,
Set close, like birth pangs.
The absence of shrieks
Made a hole in the hot day, a vacancy.
The glassy light was a clear wall,
The thickets quiet.
I felt a still busyness, an intent.
I felt hands round a tea mug, dull, blunt,
Ringing the white china.
How they awaited him, those little deaths!
They waited like sweethearts. They excited him.
And we, too, had a relationship --
Tight wires between us,
Pegs too deep to uproot, and a mind like a ring
Sliding shut on some quick thing,
The constriction killing me also.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
This is the day
And this is me breathing
I'm getting away
This is me leaving
So long, goodbye
I'm not saying either
I hope I don't die
My mind is on fire
Losing track of what I think
This is me keeping
My body and mind in synch
This is me leaving
An exchange of words in which the truth is left haunting
A circle of people with nothing to do
My soul is left wanting
Craving something new
I can't catch these fish
My mind is unreeling
Got to scratch that itch
I've got to be leaving
Colloquialisms
Predictable scripts
A lightness of being
That Grand March of Kitsch
This is me angry
This is me seething
No one will miss me
And so, I'm leaving
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 9:48 PM UTC
i love you
(the body way)
it how
of parting does
(my own self from
) by its.
and when
it arrives
with my mouth
your lips the
whole fracas
of inept manness
cleaves into
stupid parcels
of needing to destroy
(withlove)
the vambrace
of holding by loose cotton
chaste meadows of unreeling self–
where into will sojourn
the ***** promise of
each flensed second
of dying youth
(and make in there,
something living
(something vast ))
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC
You are as dull as you are mean
Rehearsed every word you said to me
I need to be clean
of the belief that what you took
was not stealing
If it wasn't, why am I still empty handed,
why are you still standing?
You mistake admiration for love
and left me in the dust,
worn out, unreeling years of cabinet feelings
I'm sorry I never brought them up,
you always put them on the back burner,
I got sick of being the chip on your shoulder
that night in October when *you said
I was the reason you hated who you'd become*
It wasn't me who forced you to stay,
but your insecurities that drove me away
each and every time you said my name
like the letters burned your mouth
as they left it,
then I left you.
I felt the same,
we did it mututally
As you left me I felt unxtinguished, yet fizzled out.
No spark or trace you left.
A pile of ashes once laid on the ground where the strongest trees live today.
I'll be okay.
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 4:57 PM UTC
Peter (my bf) flew away early this morning,
like Shakespeare’s eagle, “leaving no tracks.”
Now I lie here, as a leftover or Millais’ drowned ‘Ophelia’.
That’s an image ripped from adolescent, female visual culture.
Time‘s adversarial magic drags us ever future-wise,
eroding sweet moments we would cling to.
Shall we poetize?
I want a quiet afternoon,
on the bright side of the moon.
It’s an actual-factual place,
convenient, in close outer space,
like mythical Elysium, Shangri-La or Valhalla
where I’d still be intertwined with my fella,
like characters from literature or legend.
A place where “I’ll get to it tomorrow,”
is, alas, an everlasting pass,
because on the dusty, unreeling moon,
tomorrow never arrives,
our lovers never have to go,
and we can relax, ******** clothed,
simply enjoying the everlasting earthrise.
.
.
Songs for this:
To The Moon by Meghan Trainor
Moon River by Frank Ocean
Oct 6, 2024
Oct 6, 2024 at 3:50 PM UTC
When I die, I hope it is like my dreams.
In that way, death would not be so fearful,
A remedy for my thoughts when I sleep.
In return, I dream of my death by this
Stuff that so haunts my dreams. To be scorns of
Time and its aching length, calamity
Of so long life. Yet we so dread something
After death, a no-mans land from where no
One shall return – this makes us bear our ills.
We fight. We suffer. We are wounded, all.
So we are cowards that do fear our deaths,
For we fear the unknown, those we know not.
Instead we dream that dying is dreaming,
To sooth our conscience and minds from unreeling.
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 9:08 AM UTC
Feelings are fleeting,
and I won't pretend
that my thoughts aren't unreeling from a pole that will bend.
You broke me once -
it won't happen again.
Take that to the bank.
Go tell a friend.
There's a gap between where you begin and I end.
Fighters are fleeing,
but it's not so tough.
Can't see red until you give me enough.
You've given me nothing,
so what's this about?
A war over who gets this castle of clouds?
It's always been mine.
I'm kicking you out.
Servants are sweeping.
Seasons are seething.
Grumpy is Sneezing.
How's that for a painting?
Feelings are fleeting.
Anger and doubt.
Peace and serenity.
Go figure it out.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 11:49 PM UTC
DRIFTING ON CLOUDS OF THE DAY
Drifting on the clouds of the day far from unknown views, peering through a blemished lens
Warming up slowly with potential wavering ,pressures building while my mind is still left unreeling
Winds pushing or pulling lost in the breeze puts my soul at ease while it's softness is helping to cleanse
Mellow to my eyes flowing through the skies ,listless feelings lifted as the mind accepts more feeling
Protected by their puffiness soothing the edge of our roughness,the vastness makes us realize our insignificance
Abstract views leave unknown news ,while we are left gazing seeking some meaning
Thoughts of the day often get in the way of letting our mind out to play ,thinking to fast may leave us in a trance
Watching an evil wind blow across the way,remain distant or maybe stay to send our lives careening
Looking outward past obstacles wanting new vision, seeking answers from an unknown distance
Again lost watching some billowy beautiful blue bounty, grabbing a hold of that thick air blindly
Lost in a horizon preparing for twilight , sunset colors blending,waiting to find what new mission will be revealed with the dimness. R.C.
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 9:14 AM UTC
y o u
y for yearning
seeing your face and waiting for you to turn
the warm air before your lips reach mine
the feeling which went to my head like old wine
the taste of mint and bitter-sweetness
like the smell of you wafting over me
the pressure of your body on top of me
once it was comforting
it made me strong
then suddenly suffocating
like breath to a flame
you built me higher
then blew me out
yearning
the burning heat in my chest
the feeling of two bodies
inches apart
the strain to eliminate any distance
till you're so close
like atoms colliding
molecules combining
how long until we became an element of our own
unstable and erratic
incredible in concept
but unattainable in context
o for open road
paths that keep winding
sun streams that come in blinding
signs we keep ignoring
pretending not to mind the final destination
just keep making right turns
until our favorite song ends
we couldn't see what was creeping up behind us
i guess that's why they call it a blind-spot
open road
driving so fast it feels like we're racing the sun
driving home
listening to our song alone
learning new ways to get past that old spot
paying attention to every sign
ignoring that song, when it finally comes on
u for undoing
unwinding the memories
unreeling the spool of time
the ball of yarn we built up
layers of knotty yellow and red
untying the tether
that kept my heart hanging
when you broke the chain
connecting whats yours to mine
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 12:11 AM UTC
There you are
with your new guitar and bleached hair,
stood before
a torrent of chants that do not care
Do you sing a song of pity,
of self loathing and freedom?
Do you sing a song of lies,
of politics and deceiving?
There you stand
with shaking arms inside a designer shirt
gazing out with
a smile fastened so tight it hurts
skin unfeeling as the grand drapes start unreeling
exposing a mass of faces vile and cheating
Oh shall we lead these fans and followers,
like rats to the water?
Do we take their willing hands
and lead the lambs to the slaughter?
When humans digest so much emotion it boats their heads
'tis the seed of exploding bombs and streets that run red
infected with disillusioned beliefs and false prophets
oh what do we do when the paranoia rockets?
******* drugs and easy friends
writing songs and music, distracted messages that fail to send -
Do we sing a song of peace,
of fair equality and proprietary?
Or shall we sing a song of truth,
of gluttony, of the ***** stain that is our society?
Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 4:48 PM UTC