"untamable" poems
is just a word used
to describe me.
You don’t look
long enough at me to really
see though.
I didn’t laugh when I realized
what I was.
It wasn’t new, I knew
how my mind worked.
The word wasn’t new either.
Just the label of being a
psychopath.
The insanity of my sanity
has long since made me
comfortable relaxed amused by my
wild
untamable
uncaring traits.
Who I am
what I am-
it taunts me so dearly,
never leaving my mind.
Resting in the crooks
corners
nooks
that my mind has available.
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
Animals have an intuition about danger. Men have “gut feelings.” I should have listened to mine. The first time I saw her, I knew she was dangerous. I could feel it, and it excited me. She was a predator, a tigress, a seductress on the hunt, a wild, untamable savage woman who destroyed men. She would destroy me. I saw it in her eyes the first time I saw her. She was walking by with her girlfriends, laughing and giggling. She looked up, caught my gaze, and my world suddenly froze. A thousand feelings were expressed in the blink of her eyes. She told me I was prey. She told me I would die. She smiled, releasing my gaze. My world rushed back into focus with the abrupt harshness of a slap in the face. I was sweating. I was afraid. I was excited as I watched her disappear into the crowd. That was the first time I saw her. How could I forget.
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 2:25 PM UTC
i love me like this,
with the night in my eyes
and the cinnamon moon
that sits atop my nose.
i love me like this,
with my wild and untamable curls,
who only listen to the wind.
i love me like this,
with my skin that matches
the café con leche i love to drink.
i love me like this,
with my poetry and without her;
with the words i feel
and the words i’ve kept to myself.
i love me like this,
light and free;
because this is who i am,
this is who i was made to be.
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
must love rainy days
adventure
pumpkin carving
and unexpected kisses
must be tolerant
of jimmy stewart
and bob dylan
the other men in my life
no height
weight
or hair color requirement
but big hearted weirdos
who smile for no reason
are always welcome
no
racist
sexist
homophobic persons
or those who say baby
as a term
of endearment
i like my coffee bitter
and my men sweet
never
the other way around
lopsided grins and kind eyes can get you everywhere
if similar in tempermant style or appearance to
the doctor
david bowie
mickey mouse
or jesus
please contact immediately
must be accepting of
raucous laughter
black and white films
cold feet
and occasional insomnia
i am always late
rarely refined
and have almost no perception
of the volume of my own voice
in junior high i asked a girl to stop picking on another child
she told me to go fly a kite
it was not until much later that i realized she was insulting me
not offering ideas
for an enjoyable way
to spend the afternoon
my hair is an untamable beast
but when fashioned properly
can be wrapped about my face
to create a rather fetching beard
i enjoy being scared
and am not easily so
unless you are a bug
i talk in my sleep
never know what day it is
and cry while reading good books
i just want
to hold your hand
in a crowded theatre
while we wait for the scene
at the end of the credits
and to be able to tell you
i love you
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
I hate you when you catcall her
I feel the anger rise, tightly coiled in my stomach
Clench my fists and feel my blood pound,
Because I know what you do to her,
Reducing her to her body, just for your pleasure.
To you she is only a body, just another opportunity to prove
your manliness, your superiority.
Just another girl to humiliate.
I know this and my rage roars, a dragon, untamable
ready to tear into you the second you try it with me.
But then as I walk pass, the voices are silent.
No calls, no whistles,
I don't exist.
The dragon within me becomes confused,
am I really so ugly, so unwanted, so plain,
that the **** on the streets, the ******** who harass girls as they walk,
won't even look at me?
What's wrong with me?
The dragon fades and a new type of hate arises.
I hate myself, my stupid hair, my ******* up jaw, my plain appearance.
I should feel lucky for the blessed silence, the peaceful walk,
but instead I feel a nauseating sense of shame and hate for myself,
As I tuck my head down like a good girl and hurry home,
Trying not to cry.
Society has turned being harassed as a goal to reach for.
Keep telling us "it's a compliment"
And sooner or later we'll start to believe it.
But that doesn't make it true.
So I sit sharping my nails, not sure whose throat to rip out,
Yours? Or mine?
Because you've told me,
It's not ladylike for me to hate anyone,
Except myself.
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
My breathing becomes erratic and warm blood rushes to the tips of my ears as I remember you. You showed me the world from a clean, glass window. For a while, it was amazing. The view was impeccable and there wasn't a single flaw. But day after day of staring through that clean, glass window I began to panic. The window wouldn't let me break through, let me be free. You kept me under wraps and hid me from a world of untamable beauty and free spirited inhabitants. The clean, glass window was warped with your tainted perspective on a perfect world. I couldn't breathe around you, I was a fish out of water and you didn't mind. As I flailed around, you chuckled and said "it's okay." But it's not okay and you cause me nothing but heart murmurs and not the butterflies in my stomach type. The type that wretches my gut. You did nothing but hurt me when all I ever did was love you.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
Help!
I'm in here
Tangled beneath untamable vines of conformity
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
she wanted my soul
so I cut off a finger,
noting that this little pinky offering,
came from the same hand,
who, who went to the market
to buy her a love poem
all her own, because,
it was from the self same hand
that wrote:
*who, can cut a soul into pieces,
no one!
so one will still ask you,
who!
who will love you
in whole poems,
that are both past and future tensed
composite composted,
from words overly overused,
but still foolishly feeling brand new
when referencing you,
so you can believe with new fool-thinking,
this is your sole composition*
she wanted my heart,
applauded her determination,
gave her one eye to see me instead better,
so the visions she essays, to write,
like when I sit down to write
of women I’ve loved but!
they do not come from my heart pieces,
but from inside insight from of parts
that are blind to everything
but raucous untamable invisible desire
she asked me for all the world’s wisdom,
while standing on one legging,
I simply said, here I am,
telling you I’ll love you the way you requested,
if only to be loved in return
so with one eye and one leg,
you will observe, two is not more
than the sum of the parts of one love,
as I count to ten on my nine fingers
fingers that wrote of love not enough,
no matter how many he gave up
she wanted my brainiac left hemisphere,
said, sure,
the left side of me is where the baby poems
are created, and then angel-released when ready,
when needed, now that I
see you’re needy for pieces,
but still mistaken that pieces can be reconstructed into
a whole with spit and spirit
and an overarching imagination -
no!
the whole comes from only a holy place extracted
from the hole-in-one that is my entirety
give me then your utter essence,
the place of you
I, only I know exists, must exist,
but cannot touch to see
where you keep it hidden
from all the women who love you,
better than you even love yourself
if you want that, then collect it,
for it exists and lives on
in every woman that asked for nothing,
but was rewarded with more
than a thousand poems,
stored in stars, for her,
to be creamed and cleansed,
when she plucked them
from the night in the galaxy where exist
love poems, only
to she-one shone-shine
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 1:48 PM UTC
She’s so cute I wanna eat her face,
like I’m high on bath salts,
she’s vegan,
but takes my tongue like a cannibal,
eat your hearts out Haters,
cut my ear off and send it to her like Van Gogh,
ear off a part of the big picture,
or rather painting we’re painting she gets the first stroke,
we’re wild like animals untamable all in all the time,
into the deep end head first Geronimo cannonball,
Black Swan dive she’s gone alive,
the Pied Piper the Eyed Viper the venom & the antidote,
and I quote a quote I wrote myself,
“She’s the answer to my prayers”, the reason and the hope,
she’s the answer to my prayers,
and I don’t even pray,
okay actually on the low I do pray,
and I’ve seen a lot of amazing things but I’m still amazed,
I’m amazed,
and tomorrow isn’t promised today,
and tomorrow never comes,
but she comes and when she does she comes in waves,
I’m in a daze,
honey glazed and lovely crazed,
my bed’s a mess haven’t made it in days,
bed’s a mess but when we’re together we’ve got it made,
so perfectly misbehaved it’s insane,
lost myself then found my self all up in her maze,
and usually I’m not religious,
but she’s so delicious I must say,
thank you Lord or God Amen to her I give all thanks & praise,
and she’s so cute I wanna eat her face,
like I’m high on bath salts,
she’s vegan,
but takes my tongue like a cannibal…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Venice, California; 2018
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC
Infectious laugh,
Untamable anger,
Excitable stories,
Well-hidden anxiety.
Misdirected blame,
Unwarranted shame.
Blue eyes.
Brown hair, red hints; I wish I could have seen it with sun tints.
Smiling...
After work.
In the middle of the night.
In the mornings.
Saturday afternoons.
Rushed calls or
A day’s worth of together.
Nightmares as dreams,
Nights without sleep.
Coffee, drugs, caffeine.
Scars.
Hopelessness.
Grief.
Aspirations.
Full of life.
Childlike heart. Easily torn, but never taken apart.
An eye for nature’s beauty.
An eye for art.
One for me, occasionally.
Insecurity. Arrogance.
Compassion. Detachment.
Weak yet enduring.
Unmoving yet learning.
Intoxicating.
Aggravating.
A liar struggling to lie.
A suicide debating to die.
Lustful gaze.
Manipulative ways.
Who were you
And why couldn’t you stay?
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 4:06 PM UTC
Im the girl that will do two wrongs before she ever does a right
Forever with chipped fingernails and untamable hair
And maybe I talk a little fast and think a little slow,
but I never let my self be embarrassed by my short comings
Yes a little short
But I never let the courage that I carry like a back pack
Rest handedly at my side
I wear my unconditional love like a sleeve
And I'll pick the wrong guy 9 times out of ten
Or maybe 22
But I always bounce back
And I know myself a little to well
Or maybe not at all
And my obsession with the stars wavers on unhealthy
And I love the way the moon looks in the morning
And the way my sisters look at their spouses
And I fake confidence
Like black jack players biggest gamble
And I ramble
And I'm great at awkward moments
Like a 6th graders first open mouth kiss
I cry a little to often
And watch a little too much bad tv
But you won't find me judging your poor choices
Because I've made them too
Like 5000 knives my words can unravel you
But I try to place pressure
On the tiny hurts
Because sometimes that's the only way i know I'm alive
I identify with my gemini traits
Swimming from happy to miserable in 3 seconds flat
And I probably admire you
But would never say
Because rejection is a game I rarely ever play
And I would rather be singing with a 5 yr old
Then dealing with grown up stuff
Because I still see myself at 16
Sometimes insecure but never flat chested
And I'm never satisfied with ordinary
Because this world holds way to much beauty for ordinary to be trusted
And when I laugh I really mean it
And when I cry I mean that too
I hate being late
And the feeling of being left behind
And I surprise myself with internal motivation
Like running in knee deep water
Or lifting 500 lbs
But I always miss the people that mean the most
I almost never have good timing
But when the end is near
When all the songs have been sung
When all my dreams have been reached
When all my failures have been exposed
I will always always always
Stand arms outstretched waiting to embrace life's possibility
Cause that's not just the tight rope I walk on
That's just me.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
the coast, it is just as you promised.
elusive--
the white stones shifting beneath my feet,
this wind. this rain,
the way the steely sky
trickles down to kiss the sea,
the indistinct rumors / hints / echoes of mountains
where the mist has slept with the trees.
vast, inconsolable:
the cliffs whisper to me
of their endless
journey to the horizon,
and captured in this fragrant
brushstroke of balsam and pine
I feel the damp northwest morning
soak into my skin,
and suddenly there is
an itching of feathers
and salt in my veins.
{evergreen, wild}
for a second,
I bite into the marine chaos
of these dancing whitecaps,
and it is just as you promised.
untamable.
pacific.
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
Tomorrow was your birthday.
Love survives.
Are you vaster, out of body bounds?
Are you NOW ?
You remain deep in our soul.
Hearts thrashing weeping still,
You fast burning comet
irresistible untamable seeker
Thief of yourself.
Thief of my brother.
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 9:43 PM UTC
What to do when you’ve got the blues
Was it me or is it you
My plans are simple
To love life and be loved too
Their must be some kinds of deception
For you must love life and need one too
Or be one of
Billions of bricks in a grand pyramid scheme
But where in the mirror thee one on top
Is the one of thee ruse
Whom is under all
And who saves all fooled
Is there one among you who is more
Or less than precious you
Come on you’all
What would you be kidding me for
Like my lies to and about you
Like I could live without you
And rather forget or shout rat at ya
Have you scrounge through ******* that ye’
may you eat
or wire tie tire scraps to the souls of your feet
For we’ve come such a long way
To be here today
While it’s not been to long
Or far to go with squabble, plunder, resource **** and plow it under
That climates are for shifting
Seasons without reasons
Masses are off for the drifting
Our earth without our gratitude we sure aren’t 'a pleasin’
Thee oceanic cradle of conception 'tis sewer now
Like could I be without thee sky above me
Would thee auto or truck eat the one last bean
And every brick without a home
Not a hunting ground
Some tillable earth or seed to sow
Toxic fish in the untamable sea
And She will do as she wants
She will do as she needs
She’ll easily come and suddenly recede
Upon her eggshell basin we drill siphon pump poison and bleed
We blow holes in the ionosphere
Magnetic shifts and solar flairs
Does our wild kingdom wish us well
Or rather see us off into exile from our hells
Of dust bowls and Goodyear treads to save our souls
Journey on wayward ones
Is not a thing sacred not a one
Holy liars say anti-christ better hurry fast
So saviors come to condemn our past
And free us from, to us what’s been done
Seven say there is the Savior
And six are sick evil ones
And we can not agree of the one
Seven times to the nth degree is what we will need
Till our actions are thee savings grace
As Great Exemplars have professed
Each of us must overcome
And Holy Creature become
In the stregnth of forgiveness
We undo to thee and us done
We are the ones to feel to see
That Love is the fire
Which is pure bravery
You forge in the now
Without the forgetting
Tomorrows you desire
Where love will rise
And set as thee One in all
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 9:23 PM UTC
She should be sexier than my dreams,
Even more so should she be supportive,
Not selfish at all she should ideally be.
She should be kinder than even me,
Even more so should she be cooperative,
Unimaginably beautiful she would be.
She better be the inspiration I need,
Even for my poetry apart from my life,
Converting my blues to brighter hues.
She should have in beautiful pairs,
Even both of her eyes along with hands,
Untamable be her spirit in the night.
She should have her arms slender,
Even her waist should be such a ******
Above or under it will never matter.
She should learn awesome cooking,
Even singing will my mother be teaching,
Only that she has to be willing to learn.
She will have my company all the time,
Even dessert will be present in the bedroom,
Only I will love the two of her softies,
And she can grab my golf *****
As my pole goes in and out of her hole.
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
I have big hair
Hair that looks like medusa
Using loreal.
I have hair that is a
Short version of Merida
But isn't as firey as the mad hatter's
Hair but is
Big enough to be called that type
No I didn't stick my finger
In a light socket today
It's just my hair
My
Big
Poofy
Hair
That seems untamable at the very least
An accomplishment for anyone
I will never control it
And yet it is almost a super power
To have untamable
Hair
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 9:58 AM UTC
We are told to "make lemonade"
As we inhale the bitterness
Of wages and rent and hunger,
Student debt and job insecurity.
We are told to squeeze ourselves
Tighter and tighter
Until we are made of bones
That crack like whips to the time-stamp tune.
Flesh, they say, is the enemy.
It is weakness and untamable.
It does not fit neatly, and so must be destroyed.
It belongs in our beds, not the workplace.
They give us lemons so **** they burn,
And tell us that we're lucky to receive them.
They say it is the natural order of man and machine.
But the fruit of our labor is a lie!
Today I learned that lemons are not fruit.
They are not found in nature;
They have not fallen from heaven for us.
They are engineered by a snake in the garden.
Lemons are like wages and rent and hunger.
They are like markets and stocks and *******
A human invention we are told is better for us
Than the Apple we once killed ourselves for.
Today I realized lemonade is the enemy!
It's not the cost of bread or the breaking of backs;
It is the dismal comforts we construct
To tell ourselves that we are free.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 2:19 AM UTC
From the door inside your mind that opens on today,
on over to the bend in the road that was unforeseen,
is the greatest, most joyful adventure ever,
and it is all happening here within you!
Find yourself in the territory of untamable goodness,
And the freedom of that exquisite sweetness on your tongue!
*Never be afraid, ever again, to write down your deepest heart,
To speak your most illumined, unbounded mind!*
Every color, every sound, every kiss, every cry, every life,
All of everything is here to be honored, for just what it is!
*Hug your own heart as no one else can, until or unless
Someone comes along to do it better, but just keep writing!*
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
Love hides like a tiny insect,
Sometimes it flies analogously,
Then it finds a corner, just perfect,
For it to sit down and ponder,
Over all the people heartlessly rushing hither, thither, yonder.
Their hearts are fragile like glass,
So small, so brittle.
Hopes, both large and little
Reside amidst jungles of desires.
Everything is such a beautifully perplexing chaos,
That Life stares blankly, and admires.
The Beauty
The Beast
The unyielding Duty
Of Being, at least.
Look at me rant ceaselessly,
As my heart pounds harder than my chest can take.
You come here and leave immediately,
And the illusion dissolves; is all this just fake?
How wonderful I feel,
No matter what I write.
The world will never give me a seal,
Whether wrong, or contemptuously right.
Music rushes into my ears, flooding my canal.
Words and words, I think and think, but nothing seems final.
Appropriate is what they appreciate.
Everything else is just another reason to depreciate.
You have taught me all the ways in which I am not great.
Yet show me how to stop, and your temples will cringe with fret,
With regret.
Sing unto my untamable spirit, tales of clipping wings,
Or the melody of how a ruffled feather sings,
And I will break it down for you,
All the nuances,
Of our last rendezvous.
Dare to look into my eyes.
Even if you find nothing but empty sighs.
I am not made for your poetry.
I am drained now, reduced to nothing but grocery.
My earth derailed from its dreams,
Crashes against mirrors, stiflingly decorated with cuts molded against seams.
Fabrics, Feelings and Fragrances, all laced up.
Pour me some of that whiskey.
I have no glass, just a small, pointless cup.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 2:27 AM UTC
Anxiety is a loaded gun. Once provoked, you **** the gun.
Your emotions crescendo as you pace the floor with your finger on the trigger.
You anticipate the moment you have the chance to pull it.
As pressure builds the tension rises, building and gathering.
POP!
A flash of light as your anger is released.
Your stress has reached its ******
That split second can influence the rest of your life.
The trigger has been pulled.
You feel a sense of exhilaration.
Energy is finally released.
The ammo hurdles out at untamable speeds, obliterating everything in its path.
The damage is done, and can’t be taken back.
Hurting yourself is the least of your worries as you start to see the pain you've inflicted on others.
The recoil leaves you tender and vulnerable, Open to the repercussions.
Even after all has calmed the smoke will linger on as a horrific memory of an unforgettable scene of mayhem.
As you try to fix the wounds of others you notice yours start to weaken and worsen.
How could you let such a doltish petty thing effect the life of you and the lives of others?
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 12:42 PM UTC
She is like the ocean
Wild
Untamable
Beautiful
Free
yet so lonely
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:04 AM UTC
The season of beauty
Has finally come to stay,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’
Never has nature begotten
Such a pure sense of
An African beauty,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’,
Questioning thy true beauty
Has placed me on the known,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’,
Show me all
That thou can,
So I can perceive
And conceive thy
True seasonal countenance,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’
Oh no, the days of
My love life is
Blinking on a fast
Lane for thy taste,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’,
Is the length of my
Dying days untamable by
Thy faithful jewels?
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’
Ah! The glorious sensitivity in
The moon-like eyeballs
Of thee, has imprisoned
My reasoning power,
But he wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’
I hope thou may fall
On my waiting lips,
Though I cannot have thee,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’,
My heart is bleeding in pain,
For posterity may not live to
Behold thy true beauty,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’
I do remember thy
Precious name very well,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’
Accepting the sophistry
Of thy symbolic hips
Under the Kente cloth
Has been an axiom,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Don’t mention names’
Now I know, that
The echoes of the Gods
Do not tremble
Over thy beauty alone,
But the wise sparrow
Said to me,
‘Achimota’.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: [email protected]
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:51 AM UTC
As the winds break into small feathered kisses
and idly burden the heart this May day
I lament for all the long withered wishes
once whose petals bloomed on my way.
A begone time love feeling unfailingly true
a touch that left a long hovering trail
on the probing soul fertile they grew
before cruel days wore them frail.
Aspirations soared on sun blazed wings
they had to be have on awakened nights
the innocent's hunts for the most precious things
haloed in passions of untamable sights.
On feathered winds were they drifted and gone
notions of love and visions to build high
but by their fire made me a man
leaving imprints as the years went by.
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 4:57 AM UTC
Foxy natured creature,
An untamable animal,
Kumiho has nine tails.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 1:12 AM UTC