"untame" poems
Every night I die in an airplane
Beads of sweat fall like rain
Every night I die in a plane crash
I wake up feeling like plain trash
Because every night my plane dives into the ocean
I can't believe the virtual reality of the motion
All my friends and family are there
I watch them drown
Leaving me marooned at sea
The river Styx of my dreams
I wake up marooned at bed
Swimming in a sea of sweat
None of my friends and family are there
And my adrenaline nightmares keep me scared
Because if I fall asleep
It's a nosedive I reap
Every night I die in an airplane
Why is this image so ingrained?
Every night I die in a plane crash
Pressure crushes me to plain ash
Because every night my plane flies into a mountain
The passenger's blood fills my eyes like fountains
All my friends and family are there
I watch them burn
Leaving me stranded in the hills of hell
Until I understand the pills too well
I wake up stranded in bed
Buried in an avalanche of sweat
None of my friends and family are there
And my reality has begun to tear
When I keep dying in my dreams
My mentality rips at the seams
Every night I die in an airplane
Why must my mind be so untame?
Every night I die in a plane crash
And my life becomes a plain flash
Because every night my plane flips upside down
As my useless body is tossed round and round
All my friends and family are there
I watch them get mangled
Leaving me to die at high speeds
With corpses that profusely bleed
I wake up dying in bed
Flipped face down in a pool of sweat
None of my friends and family are there
I begin to wonder if they even care
Because I watch them die every night
It makes me love them more
Because I watch them die every night
My life becomes a chore
But there's nothing for death to reclaim
When I'd just cross over to another plane
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 12:58 PM UTC
I Can Smile, But Not be happy
I Can Cry but because i am angry
being lonley,like im drowning slowly
hard to breathe as my heart rushes to catch up to my thoughts
i feel the cold rush down my neck
i can feel you creeping
all your eyes watching as i drag my feet and trip along the road i used to skip down.
the only place ive been hurt like this in this town.
the sneakers that squeak as mine are silent.
the clothes that still smell like the stores, mine the same as they were.
the same everything. i wake, i struggle, i push, i shed but one tear
and tear apart everyone else to protect myself from everyone.
i wish of the things i wish i had. of what i wish i was. of what i wish i wasnt
and whisper into the trees and grass how much i miss you and everyone else i have lost.
screaming at people who i never should have, loving people i know will hurt me.... unless i hurt them first,
so many first kisses and first girlfriends i have ruined...
so many inults that i said out of a place in my heart that is cold as ice and hard as stone. afraid everyone knows the lies ive told. to create this persona that makes me less of a lame, shame, untame dissapointment of everyone who is related to me....
Let me start over.
let me be the one who never lies.
let me be the one who didnt have to say that they hate someone.
let me love everyone including myself.
Look at me without shame Mom.
look apon me without disgust father.
for i am your baby girl. i am the baby you nurtured into the monster you call a daughter......
no mas no mas mother.....
i am not what you have raised
i am a near blemish in your imperfect yet perfect life.
as we stare each other down from across the table i see the dissapointment in your eyes...
the instructers see the lie they call potential...
i am just a shadow in the glory of the boy.... just a twinkle in the firework of YOUR life.
and as i begin to fall to my knees with pain and anger
i think of the people i hurt and wish they could watch me slowly fall into a deep pit of darkness and hate,...
i will sleep to the sounds of their giggles
since i danced to the sound of their crys.
Ill continue to disappoint those around me.
im sorry for the pain and stress mom.
Im sorry for the tears and fear mom.
this is me.
oh so terrible
unforgivable
broken
shaken
shattered
me.......
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 2:06 AM UTC
-something real. Something strong and sturdy, believable. I want to write words that are heavy with lightness and dark with their brightness, to draw on a page a life so unbelievably real, so inconceivably mine
in creation
I want to write
-not just love. Not a ***** with a couple of drink-mangled bugs. I want to write about that feeling of blood churning and the warmth of emotion not physical feeling, to put into words the unwordable joy of being in the presence of
not just anyone
Anyone. Like the not-platonic-non-romantic affection that Rudy would not fail to hint at, that so-wanted kiss that Liesel gave, it wasn't so much the action as the meaning behind it. Like that itch on Death's ear when Liesel he came near, not to take her yet, but to steal her story, to live through it. To feel the words dance in his void, non-niceness, the infinite meanings and the power of phonic combinations.
They allow even Death to live.
I want to write like Zusak, like Rowling, like me.
I want to write
-the philosophies. The thoughts and wishes and wonders of a minority. I want to write about those opinions of those whose voices are too small and their souls beautifully lit up but unseen, their ideologies so unmistakably right but also naive and innocent, to stage their feelings from transition to transition
their words to the wise
I want to write
-characters so flawed. Each with an inner splendor most radiant, but with their fields of starless black and heads that wander from this to that. I want to write lives and people so different, with not-so-good lives and not-so-normal features. People who, though lacking thereof, cliche the right things and believe
in the wrong
The wrong. Their thoughts and meanings about life and beyond, undesirable and judged but that is the human mentality, such as Hazel Grace felt about her casualties and Alaska Young wondered about the labyrinth's unending game. So standard at first, but then Gandalf came and Bilbo learned the differences between Hobbit and the untame. The reasons and purposes of life's grand living, through the eyes of those whose faces are shunned.
Hermione wasn't just a bibliosiac.
I want to write like Green, like Tolkien, like me.
Alas, the clock, a stained moon, it darkens, and the prejudice of people as well as the pride, unfortunately Austen couldn't lessen so much. Stereotypes triumphantly sit on the throne with their Mary-Sue maids catering from head to toe. I can't barge in, object to the crowning, because today I admit it: my writing is dying.
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
Only Angel
Don't you run away;
You're running from your only saviour
Don't you know you're looking into the eyes
Of the only angel on your road?
This is the only time;
You gotta find your light on your way
You're never, no, you're never...
Never gonna find another angel on your road.
Baby, don't you know you're turning away from the Light
You're never gonna have this chance no more
Don't you know you're looking into the eyes
Oh G-d, you gotta move that bad from your door!
Don't you turn away;
Don't you go on spitting
In the face of an angel
Never gonna find another angel in your road
Refrain (spoken):
May the Light shine in any dark corner of your heart
And banish all negative, weak thoughts.
May your steps still be ever-so gentle
On the sometimes tricky path of life.
Seek not always activity to stop the gaps
They are the breathing spaces meant for peace and inner dwelling.
Water your little flowers on the arid plain of Life
For I see them blossom in your eyes.
It's hard to fix a broken road
So step out and carve out a new way.
Feel. Really feel the pain and chase it not.
It is not the foe, just a momentary spot of too-bright light.
The real enemy sits in your midst
Lingers on your fears and blots out your sun.....
It is thought.
Too much of it can **** a man!
Mind you keep the untame drivel well clear of your heart
Lest you wish a choking visit.
Be real with yourself
And be kinder to your spirit.
Battle not too sore with the winds
As your silver light shows you the way to a purer, clearer life.
May the stars of tranquil dawn usher calm
And soothe your battered soul.
Ask not for obstacles to be removed
They are for learning and teaching; progress.
Pray instead for safety, health and dignity
And hang onto that necklace of peace.
True amity is such that having never yet met
We can embrace in kindred spirit.
Have the heart to welcome a stranded soul
And spare anyone lame excuses.
Lessons await you patiently
Neglect none; accept or pay dear.
Take time to discover yet....the REAL you.
Enlightenment is tough work!
Peace to you, dear friend.
(Dedicated to Esme Ruth)
By Star Toucher, 31 January 2013
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 10:46 AM UTC
I've seen the world and explored sacred places.
I've opened all my senses.
Seen its beauty and overwhelming glory.
These rose colored lenses.
I've read every book and heard every story.
Spared no expenses.
You might think I'd be happy and content.
Tonight I've realized.
There is one thing missing from my life.
One thing I'll never find with my hands nor buy with my sweat.
One thing impossible to manufacture or imitate.
I've found it before.
Dwelled in it for a moment.
I can't stay forever. But knowing you exist.
I'll be back for more.
It's everything I've adored.
Without i grow untame and bored.
It's what our connection is built on.
It's where our shared spirit was born.
You've shown me your raw nature.
It's pure form.
Your capacity to nurture.
Entwined spirits, our rough edges now smoothed and worn.
My shell you've broken to free me.
A welcomed moment of destruction.
We've tread through the shallow waters of superficiality.
Certainly we've made our introduction.
The soil beneath my feet shifts.
A stumble turned roll.
Down this mountain so steep.
Take me into you. And together
we'll roll in the deep.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
sunken eyes and an untame mind.
eyes grow pale with the sun,
the universe turns black all at once.
free fall into oblivion, lick the edge
and feel the pain. i can't stop the rain from
sinking down my face. this love is all
i had, now i just spin around in place,
wishing to be alone. it's just a phase, so
i say, but everything is dull. the wind
pulls through my throat speaking
words i've never known. my eyes won't
close, the brain says no. can't stop thinking.
the sun is devouring my irises, blinded
by the deafening silences. what's happening?
where's my mind? i can't keep passing by
with i'm fine.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 4:47 AM UTC
the world outside is a treacherous place,
where evil lurks in every race.
doubt threatens to **** the deepest belief,
and the pain of loss comes with no relief.
there is no refuge below or above,
with the exception of the refuge of love.
love is capable of amazing powers;
love with stay with you until late hours.
true love’s flame will never grow cold,
it keeps burning hot even when it grows old.
in the case of two lovers, starcrossed and secret,
they’re, sadly, oppressed and told they can’t keep it.
some don’t know what happens to a covered flame:
the flame becomes hotter, just as lovers grow untame.
but love stays with you through all the struggle;
love with not leave you in the times of trouble;
love makes dull life’s hardships, it numbs the pain;
love doesn’t care what you’ve done, even the insane;
love will not leave you, whether in the dark or the light;
love sticks with you through the day, it’s beside you at night.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 6:41 PM UTC
Battered back
what has been
what has affected like the wind defining the shapes of rocks
Silly laws
saying you can't even feel them
my back will never go back to the other color
will never even try to counter something angry
because it has steeled like an earth
unaware of the core and volcanoes in Challenger Deep, miles past bottoms of the ocean
unaware volcanic fire in the heavist water makes it way from the bottom
unaware the terrain is never flat
your back is the most violent answer
counters things like everything is silent
but god knows and does not get angry
he kneels, more than Buddha ever could
Buddha never stood very short
sitting very tall
knees with two corners and just repeating so much.
God sees and with his shoulders drops his ears and his back
no tension of countering
but large as an elephant he shows he also has untame terrain
but done by his feet of his heart
since he does not have sad Hell inside
and then it does not seem so bad
he is this way, especially where people don't treat him like he opens flat
I am this way, eyes such lids of living sport.
We are diagnoled with burning rocks
why the most melted *** of every signal of soul and doubt?
eyes printed in like footprints of a crazy lion
this way
the night creaking with the strength of us
how much we have elephanted the day closely because we are so expensive
we just heat and motion the ground and it gets bigger
because beings cannot be slow or dull
because there is no one but spirits crisscrossing time
no one like day
there is no one little as day
we are all kneeling like true kings at the big things
there is no one as near as day
we are all in the mail flipping around up in the solar system
and all the way down, the whole thing
with every sway scooping like there's air already in every rock
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 1:10 AM UTC
Dang he is cray cray ,
On my mind by the grey day.
he is a smile. I've waited a while...
He is untame aiming for lame,
more for the mean then for the green....
***** a ***** and a gold digga.
iz name austin ganey he give me a paney .
runnin from hugs nd cravin for drugs.
ill be tha dart & aim for yuhr heart
crazy lazzyy bee miii babyy ;P
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
when no man pursues
the truth,
the idea which contains all true ideas, aha
ideas are ideas, roses roses, names names
all true
evil ideas are in the set of true ideas as
sure as pi is in the set of true numbers,
i think
When the wicked rule the people mourn,
I think
How are all ideas equalible?
How is any idea equalible quant wise re
(long turbulent selah, lts)
questing
help, this is a talking point.
(lts)
okeh. for the future, I see.
we can make these faster with ideas pouring
into words flowing from gentled
untame-ible tongues,
----- untame-able is not
----- untame-ible, this may be an object
----- ifier lesson
-tension that re
l-eases
silent
darts, bullets(silent kind), missles, hymns'n'such
pointy grippy handles for cud
chawn story points upon
which any true story
idea must stand.
in spiritarian.
addinph
unitem
spirit and image of your father.
ohmygawd
Ambush
Clam slam shut, swoohoosh
pop
The infer
(implication layer upon layer,
thicker and thicker
naquering laquering query, could be dem pearl-ly gates,
early version o' Feynman's reversible tristatic NAND gates,
which work on ideas harnessed...)
see, there's the rub. one wee tetrahedral
trypointy foursidy sort of pearl maker
with words made
conversation
verses
versus insane unsane saners saved
by grace unmazing ungnostic
mumbling glosalialy
knot knox nor any o'them
puritans detected the
leaven in the game,
the periment
let out the
box,
"a republic, if you can keep it." unsaid went,
we cast all our cares to the gyre giver
guiding the great gulf river of pro
sperity providing us
our perspicacity.
Would that one might see one day,
the outcome of our American
experiment in leaven
in forming idle words mit ganz alte wahrheit
in dem Erste Zepto Planck Sec
just now. The idea that won was thought.
Good think you think.
We shall see.
Call your truth true.
Stand under knowing good and evil,
both, how and why, then chose,
knowing, my side won.
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 11:36 PM UTC
Your spirit has the smell of earth,
kissed by first rain,
effervescent with scent of promise,
Your spirit has the smell of the sea shore,
the breeze, sweet with the salty spray of power.
Your spirit has the smell of the mountain side, grassy meadow wild with fragrance of untame flowers
Your spirit has the smell of a monastery, mystic camphor serene thoughts of living.
Your spirit has the smell of the battle,
blood, gore, flesh and fight
Your spirit has the smell of a maiden
out from her scented bath,
sensual, drip dripping
Your spirit has the smell of forest,
wild sweaty, hot and humid.
Your spirit has the scent so honest,
of love pure tho rugged and rough
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 6:06 AM UTC
You're so soft
so smooth
your skin is like moonlight
and it pulls my heart like a moth to flame
how it hurts, only being able to reach
how it cuts me to pieces to long for you
your body is honey and clouds
and puts me in pain
you're so sweet
but your curves and creases could never be mine
your gentle lips kissing down my chest
the loving pain of nails against my back
we could never be untame
Your hot breath, your panting
your moans are my music
your hips are my rhythm
the love in your eyes is my sugar
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 6:19 PM UTC
In the night
I find myself
Insane, profane
Untame
As if bred
From flame
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
Bring back the wolves, nature's balance has gone astray
The ancient flowing water is carving a new way
Reds and Roes are rampant, stripping blade, stalk and leaf
Diversity is dwindling, the knife is in its sheath
Bring back the wolves, not those that shoot for "sport"
Untame mother nature with her sharpest retort
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 2:46 AM UTC
I like chocolate malt.
My life is at a halt.
I know who is at fault.
It's always the same who I blame.
She is lame.
Her sanity untame.
Her self shame.
You know her name.
You know her face.
It's an image you can't erase.
She put me & my child's life to waste.
She has selfish taste.
I wish her gone without a trace.
She slows down the pace.
She is always on my case.
Her feet are always bare.
She never brushes her hair.
She always judges & stares.
She never cares.
Turmoil daily she dares.
She's the world's biggest slob.
She does'nt have a thing to rob.
The only clothes she wears has holes, stains, & tears.
She never has any food.
In my business she always intrudes.
She is jealous, miserable, & rude.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
We were together, physically- my fingers leaving grimy trails in the lines of your body. You may have been that mountain we were laying on, with your strength and your valleys and our grounded unity. But there was a sickness, the earth thriving and the people dying. You shielded me from that force which claimed them all. In your frustration and anxiety you left to find a cure. I can feel your restless soul while you are gone. But the force has stopped. Only a few of us remain, and in four hundred years we have seen the earth overgrown- the return of prehistoric size. But we cannot rest, we cannot die. You are still gone, and I roam the life swamps in search of you. I finally find you. Your hands guide my feet on the earth and you are found. Rising from the muck. You have been moving, these four hundred years, through the earth, untame. You are peace and I can die again. We all can.
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 1:41 PM UTC
Separated
Alone in the dark
Hope?
A dying flame
Sanity and reality
Falling apart
Nightmares
Wild, untame
I'm just a player
In life's sick game
Breaking
Sinking
Finally floating
Floating with the pain
Swimming through fear
Drinking in tears
Consumed with notions
Of impossible possibilities
Never to be imagined again
The darkness is the key
To doors of insanity
Light?
The broken lock
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 2:47 PM UTC
she lays on the bed
in front of me.
bare skin all over.
i lift my shirt off
at the foot off her bed.
how little faith the night
has in me,
putting money on my exhaustion.
we pull the covers over us, my
face in her neck.
scratch, bite, pull, push.
my hair goes from unkept to untame
like a lion's mane in the dry heat
of the sun.
and like a lion, i feast on her
body.
the curves below and above her hips.
her shoulders,
the nape of her neck.
minutes turn to hours
and her breathing in my ear
reminds me of our pulses.
the most holy moment of my life
remakes itself almost every day
and night
and spills over into the morning
all over itself.
no patience.
but i keep it to a dull roar.
at the last moment, we find
ourselves breathless
and still wanting more.
Jan 17, 2011
Jan 17, 2011 at 3:00 PM UTC
Curtious Curiosity,
Coaxing me in,
Calling my name
Like a chivalrous hymn.
What is to blame
For what drives me insane
And calls me like fame
To unwind and untame.
Breathe in and breathe out
Get rid of all your doubts
Now find what life
Is truly about.
Smile bright, never doubt.
Jun 23, 2011
Jun 23, 2011 at 8:29 PM UTC
I want Neptune
to come out
of the Gulf
reining
pale
untame
charioted waves
I want his imprint
on the brined wash
and
I want to ask him questions.
Do mermaids dance?
(for example)
Are hippocamps?
(for another)
Are starfish fallen celestials, antic?
Is drowning frantic?
I want the vasty deep to erupt
into answers, synaptic explosions
connections
connecting
to
me
I seek myself in saltwater
Creation's alphabet soup
to swallow me
to disconnect the disconnection of me.
Come Neptune. Come from my primal self
into my Self and connect me to me
and me to you and us to them.
Push your wild beasts from the sea
and come into me.
c. Roberta Compton Rainwater 2014
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
The night was filled with a
severe tranquility.
Each pocket jingling and jangling
With emptiness.
Even the clouds were
Speechless.
Only holy silence of the untame.
Natural humility.
Clever disruption of all that
Which is frightening
And strange.
Unique, fresh
Perfect.
Boring.
The children began to smash things.
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
how to escape this thoughtful innocence
holding me behind bars of rightful insolence.
they say, "train your mind, lose sense of time,"
while i say, "why train the untame, isn't losing sense the wild's game?"
questions. answers. repeated. just dapper.
never enough you say? yes i feel that way,
often enough as if the work isn't done here,
so why stray far if the achievement is near?
sometimes roads bend and wind for days
only to cover the straight distance a foot away.
this, we call life, and we enjoy the strife,
for overcoming it brings jubilation
while the journey creates hesitation.
hold back and time passes your eyes,
jump in and time let's you fly.
what to do... what to do...
answers. questions. reiterated. human nature.
May 2, 2011
May 2, 2011 at 2:46 PM UTC
I used to wonder
Where I was going wrong
That I left the path
To hear the bluebird's song
I think I heard it
My mother scream my name
Yet it was but a whisper
To the forest most untame
It seems I'm lost
But I don't feel lost at all
I prefer to watch clouds
Than watch humanity fall.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 4:45 PM UTC
99 percent of the day
I have no idea of what to say
They all expect a response
To comprehend their complex wants
They set their claim
In ways found tame
But as soon as socially allowed
They suddenly become so proud
Of things they claimed untame
I watch them when I’m at the club
The sudden shift of their conscious sub
Their fundamentals seem to change
Their ways seem to rearrange
As soon as they go through that door
The Princess becomes a massive *****
A man with thoughts impure and perverted
Becomes one with those thoughts extroverted
As these people become untame
Not a second thought is spent
On wondering where it all went
The self-respect you used to hold
Before you entered this loud abode
What happened to personal space
That’s so important to our race
I too am a perverted *****
But I don’t pretend to be more
I accept that I am untame
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 5:15 AM UTC