"unwinded" poems
Now that time has unwinded
We're songs that are lost in the wind
And even though we're constantly reminded, we'll
Make our way back to them
So just take my hand, take my hand
I promise
That if you take my hand, take my hand we will
Find another land, no demands
I promise
That somehow we will be okay
We run through life with scratches and bruises
As our friends peel back their thin skin
The one who never tries is the one who loses
And even though we know it's there we can't begin again
So just take my hand, take my hand
I promise
That if you take my hand, take my hand we will
Find another land, another land
I promise you
That this is where we will begin
An empty casket lies upon the table
You look inside, there's nothing but a pen
And a single sheet of bright white paper
Left for you to write your memoirs to your best friend
But she has passed on, this is the song
You promised her
And it had better be worth every single word
But we're finally here, you are a dear
I promised you this
And we can fin'lly see eternity, my friend
We can fin'lly see eternity, my friend
Oh, we can fin'lly see eternity, my friend
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 5:41 PM UTC
If only times would change, the clock unwinded,
Giving time to relive the days gone past unnoticed,
If only we knew that men were made for purpose,
not simply watch the sun going down in the west coast,
touching the horizon, disappearing beyong the oceans,
we would then leave down our spades, voice our murmurs,
dancing in mud, hands on bricks, rain soaking wet our clothes.
Yet, we would think of the ones we've left,
and different letters we sent,
Seeing their smiles, ink reflecting our stories,
"how i wish i was there...dear laurette" only that
i had to press on so that no tears would fall
on the clean dry plates, and a white cloth.
If only we knew that our knees would be bruised,
lamentations going fourth for you,
It passed our eyes to see our dreams,
but only ours were for you to live,
nev'r been of flashy cars or brighter "blings"
we simply lived that, some day
when the day dawns and
our sight could no longer be restored
for we have seen all that we could about life,
we would then know that, bending our backs,
or days in the rain and mud were not in vain,
For by the hat of straw, you would then go down
the aisle and you would then have a hat of cloth,
with a little tail, and your coloured garment,
telling our days of smiling to the rain.
i would have known, that even though i didnt know,
in picking those greens and reds from the garden,
and the colours of the city i have nev'r known,
when you come home,
you will tell me all about them,
and i will see them too,
in your coloured garment.
(dedicated to african fathers, who have worked hard, been enslaved but never given up to see their children growing up better, getting to varsity)
Jun 19, 2012
Jun 19, 2012 at 4:14 PM UTC
For you,
i slowly
unwinded time
to hand you
a thread,
the labyrinth
where you
trustingly
unravel your heart.
For you,
i hush the spindle
in my empty hands
that will weave
no more,
the thread this whirl,
and i fade,
as i let
time rewind.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
I'm wearing your sweatshirt to sleep again
I'm under my own roof and it makes me feel more at home
I've bitten my nails until they bleed
But when I hold your hand, everything seems to heal
I can't undo the tangles in my hair
But you trace your fingers down my arm and every one of my thoughts becomes unwinded and untangled before you
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
I am settled in the arugula palace
Everybody in the same scattered image
Seeking reconstruction or construction of the mind
I write this for myself to be unwinded & unrolled
He's a shifting plane of bisecting geometries
Now a thin woman shuttling kids in a minivan
Smoking newport cigarettes & feeling mucous gather in the sore spot in her throat. Her husband who is overworked & penniless--a clown frozen in a shipping container underneath a hi-low. He is fetching up the scraps of industry from inside a concrete bottle. He is messing with the intersecting circles coming off the streetlights. He is stacking up assumptions, wishing to be freed. Wishing he could reach that frightened child-monkey loser in the parking lot. He is clawing @ sensations he will never be able to name. He is secretly wishing for a vision. Secretly wishing to be known. He is tied & tethered to the clean-up crew. They are silent pretenders nodding at the recycling bins--never emptied. There he is formatted. There his eyes go staring out. There a picture--but what's a picture now that it's all beyond control, no longer static, no longer a container or reminder but rather a cloud passing, a moment's pause, a temporary fascination? A posing, a posturing, a big a-Ha!--fuck you! Stranger. You are not a part of me. The danger is madness. The danger is control. There are no static images. No peaches. No penumbras. No mandalas, maps, organizations or rebuttals. There is only standing water in the basement. There is only diet pepsi car keys hanging on the edge of a golden cloudburst.
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 5:35 PM UTC
Cello cords snap, slice, fresh
Wounds bloom next to old scabs
Rosy slits puncture through cotton gloves
With thread and time, they say
We’ll mend.
Intertwining blows face a silent war
Unwinded by a cannon salute.
Across the battlefield
Conductors pick up their batons
Holding ready
Waiting
For you to throw
The opening note
Waiting
For me to throw
The first Molotov
Shatters.
The trumpet hook screeches
A familiar overture blares
Confetti glass garnishes our drinks
Gasoline reek, whiskey aftertaste
A night of dancing dares.
We fall back
Into a bed of thorns
Composed by sleepless fights
We have not learned to knit or sew
Our petals dangle from the receptacle
Swaying to the chorus.
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 10:49 AM UTC
unwinded
untwisted
undulated
like a
neon boa constrictor
the river
crawled
back
into
the
thick sleepy Delta
from
the
mouth of
the
yellow
bamboo river
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 10:57 AM UTC
Its 3 am, the witching hour
And my thoughts grow sour
Enduring the ache of my hollow heart
Its been a year since our part
Remembering the fun times we had
I can't help but feel sad
The soft brush of your kiss
Is one of the many things I truly miss
The nights grow longer and longer
As my mind continues to wander
At times a smile sneaks up on me
In your arms is where I wish to be
In Love's Bliss, lost in your magic
Our loss will forever be tragic
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
I don't mind where it takes me
As long as it takes me
Unwinded
Whip out
Wherever it takes me
As long as it's different
From drunk and driving
Or your brain hurting
From people draining your energy
I'm looking for stimulating
And a huge exhale
From the illusions
Breaking me
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC