"unremittingly" poems
Dancing,
Thrashing,
Cascading
Down the barren stone tower,
Through the craggy, coarse cliffs
Refining, polishing the necessary features
And streaming for the duration of my adventure,
One might wonder: Why?
Why! Oh what a question—
To purify what will soon be soiled in a moment’s time,
And yet, unremittingly,
Over, ad nauseam, again.
I cannot die.
No agony or desolation can destroy me.
Amaranthine, ceaseless, everlasting!
I hold steadfast, staunch, unrelenting.
I am a waterfall.
Nought can destroy me.
I am forever...
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC
Life or Death
I can see the blinding light surrounding me
in my broken hours, the deep rugged circles
under my shapeless eyes, featureless cheeks
floating along the wailing streams, the silent
screams stabbing my soul unremittingly all
through the night, chills sinking in the depths
of my flesh, darkness creeping in the shadows
cutting me deep, tormenting me constantly in
my sleep, crashing and burning, drifting and diminishing,
disintegrating and dying, slow startling thoughts
invading my landscape, every wall encompassing
my view spinning and intensifying across my sunken
dimension, slipping int a world of pain and anger,
blazing flames casting immense loneliness in my heart,
embracing the vicious freezing winds whirling in my direction,
imagination fading into depression, dreams vanishing into
broken bottles, as I gaze at the sharp steel blade facing me,
counting the ways to draw blood upon my existence, the crimson
flow suffocating my crying escape, peeling skin deteriorating into
gray ashes, feeling its smooth jagged edge pierce my skin to a slow
and brutal death.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
She stared at the roof beam,
The wood that was once a tree.
A tailless lizard came from
Behind the beam to look
At her for the umpteenth time.
Kitta kitta , said the lizard
She who had become 'it' stared
Unremittingly at the beam
That was once a forest tree.
The beam looked at the lizard.
The continuum flowed endl’ssly .
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 8:58 AM UTC
Pain is deep
It buries itself into the deepest corners of my mind
Pain is throbbing
It pounds through my head with every beating pulse
Pain is constant
It unremittingly reminds me of feelings I don’t want to find
Pain is dull
I can’t escape its dreary presence, it remains so close
Pain is burning
It brings fire to my eyes with each and every tear
Pain is sharp
It stabs my chest with every inhaling breathe I take
Pain is lightning like
It does not warn with sounds of thunder for me to hear
Pain is unique
Without pain, love would be fake
Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 9:00 PM UTC
For the past thirty years or so
I’ve heard Republican broad hints
That never quite come to pass.
They must think I am dense;
That I sit and watch my TV
And get all stoked to hear them
Promise they will set things right
But reality never comes near them.
They talk about our poverty gap
And how they will narrow it down
And how they will lower interest
And they will quit fooling around.
They go on about their opponents,
Even when they have good records,
And then the election comes and
The people fail to get it together.
So every eight years they vote,
These fools I must call my peers
And throw the good guy out.
Every freaking eight years.
An even once after just four
They told the good guy goodbye
Then put in a world class crook.
Can anyone really say why?
I’ve watched my fellow man
Go bonkers like this repeatedly
And vote in some twisted clown
That ******* us up completely.
Nixon looked like the creep he was;
A greasy, rude and stupid man.
Then Reagan was a liar and a looter
I never was that fool’s loyal fan.
In between we’d get someone
In the job who wanted things fixed.
He would work hard as he could
And pray things wouldn’t be nixed.
But the current bubble-headed villain
Said he’d take the country back;
All his predecessor was guilty of
Was of being unremittingly black.
So, what’s with these people here
Who can’t tell a good thing from bad?
Why can’t they recognize success
And good times we have had?
All indexes were up, things were fine
Things were not a bit bad that fall.
So why did the half bright-Americans
Choose a guy with no experience at all?
Surely they don’t think any guy
Who doesn’t give a **** about them
Would care about more than rich buddies.
Of course not! That would be just dim.
Yet they did it and proved that fools,
When they’re left to play with the adults,
Can ruin things when they’re going well.
Now we must live with the results.
Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 9:04 PM UTC
Relying on a response
By your hand
Holding my heart
So delicately it beats
Unremittingly of songs
And tears it weeps
For love of hope
Alone I cannot win
Your affection
Do I dare
Strive for more
Than what has been
Of late nights
I lay awake
Dreaming of dreams
Do not come true
Love will prevail
Selfishly, I want you
to be mine.
Egregiously, I err
on doubts.
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 4:15 AM UTC
Freedom's abode was where sun rose.
Her desirous eyes saw where sun goes.
Rumours were unremittingly echoed;
That sun's path leads to lavish abode.
Freedom decided to follow the sun.
Leaving kinship behind resolved to run.
Duping father, brother, husband and kins;
She bartered her veil for strong wings.
Freedom left her culture with no regrets.
She reached the place where sunsets.
Exchanged some clothes with new culture.
Rest lifted in the name of art by vultures.
Now she started finding new husband.
Sadly available were only Boyfriends.
Property bemocked her and ran away.
Morality bled and outstretched it lay.
Freedom now looks with longing eyes;
Place which she left, where sun rise.
Now her mistake she knows and attests.
In the Middle of East was abode to rest.
Disappeared all enthusiasm and zest.
Naked Freedom is lost in streets of west.
Within broken societies now she roams;
Where there are houses but no homes.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
As soon as you are gone, my body cries for you to begin again.
My bones remember your weight,
crushing bliss.
Half-spun moments free from thought or care or existing
I am lost, in you.
I am found.
Lover, I do not know whether you are spinning our tale
or unraveling it.
Never has love felt so fragile or unbreakable,
your skillful hands twisting my wishes into ribbons,
leaving them scattered on the floor
next to the denim husks of our discarded selves.
I fear this mistake.
I fear that we will not make it often enough.
Memorizing your outline, I make my provisions for your eventual leave-taking.
Everything must go.
I carry you with me,
escaping into the strange sweetness of your smile.
Poetry is your broad shoulders
turned away from me and feigning sleep.
I do not weep.
Perhaps this is the ending,
slowly fading, credits rolling, riddled with bloopers a casual audience will never see.
Maybe the sum-total of my love for you will be told
in bleary-eyed mornings, wordless hugs on my way out the door.
But Lover, you have forgotten the heart of the one who loves you,
one who knew your soul before your body.
I am gracelessly, unremittingly hopeful
and perhaps this is the darkness that falls just before the phoenix sings,
raising the dawn.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC