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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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 ))

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.

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.

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.

One of those ******* awful black days
When nothing is pleasing and everything that happens
is an excuse for anger
An outlet for emotions stockpiled, an arsenal, an armour
These are the days when I hate the world
Hate the rich, hate the happy, hate the complacent, the TV watchers,
beer drinkers, the satisfied ones
Because I know I can be all of those little hateful things
And then I hate myself for realising that
There is no preventative, directive or safe approach for living.
We each know our own fate
We know from our youth how to be treated,
how we'll be received and how we shall end
These things don't change.
You can change your clothes,
change your hairstyle, your friends, cities, continents
But sooner or later your own self will always catch up.
Always it waits in the wings.
Ideas swirl but don't stick,
They appear but then run off like rain on the windshield.
One of those rainy day car rides, my head implodes,
the atmosphere in this car a mirror of my skull
Wet, damp, windows dripping and misted with cold
Walls of grey
Nothing good on the radio
Not a thought in my head

Be safe

I know a place we can go where you'll fall in
love so hard that you'll wish you were dead.

Lets take life and slow it down incredibly slow
Frame by frame
With two minutes that take ten years to live out
Yeah, lets do that.

Telephone poles like praying mantis against the sky
Metal arms outstretched
So much land traveled, so little sense made of it
It doesn't mean a thing all this land laid out behind us
I'd like to take off into these woods and get good and lost for a while
I'm disgusted with petty concerns; parking tickets, breakfast specials
Does someone just have to carry this weight?
Abstract topography, methane covenant, linear gospel,
Nashville sales lady, Stygian emissary, torturous lice, mad Elizabeth

Chemotherapy *******.

The light within me shines like a diamond mine
Like an unarmed walrus
Like a dead man face down on the highway
Like a snake eating its own tail, steam turbine, frog pond,
too full a closet burst open in disarray
Soap bubbles in the sun, hospital death bed, red convertible,
shopping list, *******, deaths head, devils dancing,
bleached white buildings, memory, movements
The movie unpeeling, unreeling, about to begin

I've seen your hallway, you're a dark hallway
I hear your stairs creak
I can fix my mind on your yes, and on your no
I'll film your face today in the sparkling canals
All red, yellow, blue, green brilliance and silver Dutch reflection
Racing thoughts, racing thoughts
All too real, you're moving so fast now I cant hold your image
This image I have of your face by the window,
me standing beside you arm on your shoulder
A catalogue of images, flashing glimpses then gone again
I'm tethered to this post you've sunk in me
And every clear afternoon now I'll think of you up in the air twisting your heel,
Your knees up around me, my face in your hair
You scream so well, your smile so loud, still rings in my ears.

I know a place we can go where you'll fall in
love so hard that you'll wish you were dead

Inhibition,
Distant, tired of longing
Cleaning my teeth
Stay the course.
Hold the wheel
Steer on to freedom
Open all the boxes
Open all the boxes
Open all the boxes
Open all the boxes

Times Square midday
Newspaper buildings, news headlines going around
You watch as they go, and hope there's some good ones
Those tree shadows in the park they're all whispering shakes and leaves
Around six pm, shadows across the cobblestones
Girl in front of a bathroom mirror
she slow and careful paints her face green and mask like
Like Matisse' portrait
with green stripe
Long shot through apartment window, a monologue on top but no girl in shot
The light within me shines like a diamond mine
like an unarmed walrus
like a dead man face down on the highway
Like a snake eating its own tail
A steam turbine, frog pond, too full a closet burst open in disarray,
soap bubbles in the sun, hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list,
*******, deaths head, devils dancing,
bleached white buildings, memory, movements
The movie unreeling, about to begin

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.

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

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

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?

I am unreeling
And I know it

I'm Too ****
For my unspooling

I am livid
At the indifference

In finding myself
In this exploding sea

Of what the hell are you
Anyway

And you change
As you try to answer

Self uncertainty
Should be

Self abandonment
Due to

Self creation
Whew

I need a
miss direction

To right
My ship
Of foolishness
Vibe

Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

At the hospital listening
45 minutes non stop
95 year old
unreeling

I watch her eyes
as she talks
Will this guard against
My unraveling

These stories made me
She thinks they'll keep her
Says when I get home
She doesn't know yet

I know and smile
wonder how I'd
drag my unknowing feet
away on instinct

from oblivion
with recitation
of my stories
yeah this is me

I dare you to fade this