"welcomingly" poems
As the days grow cooler now,
I start to face the question, How?
It’s been so long that I can’t hear your voice,
But as the day draws near I'm left with little choice.
To tell you now just how it was,
That you took my heart and then hit pause.
You never knew and I don’t blame you for that,
But in misdirected anger I still hissed and spat.
On that day - so late in November,
The sights the smells - your smile I still remember.
Merry and Jovial we relaxed by the pool,
The evening breeze welcomingly cool.
As the sun set and the sky filled with stars,
I started to feel like I was heading for Mars.
The feeling was alien overwhelming me so,
A feeling of love …
I couldn't let that show!
And I’d never let it go!
It tore at my heart and split me in two,
Surely this could not have been all because of you?
It’s closer now the time we’ll meet again,
I know it won’t be easy - a meeting of pain.
I have my plans and I'm sure you have yours,
But I'm not going to force open those doors.
I’ll tell you my truth on the hold that you had,
It was not a craze or in passing a Fad.
It was what it was but I want to move on,
But that’s now not to say that I want you gone.
Understanding and Acceptance is part of us all,
It’s just how you cradle the rise and the fall.
It was never your fault it was me through and through,
I should have just come out and said it to you.
I loved him then and would have given my all,
But time and again I stood up just to fall.
I’ll never forget you I don’t think that I could,
But moving on is something I should.
I'm not looking for feet sweeping kisses and a lifetime together,
I just want you to know my life isn't over.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 3:23 AM UTC
The memory of her sits on a balcony ledge, cigarette in hand.
My green light at the end of a dock.
And this time I am reaching out
like many before,
in pages and poems past.
Macbeth’s face is a book.
Her body is an atlas
tracing a beautiful continent.
Follow the long tributaries that lead to shallow deltas.
This shore begins softly and forms into slender feet,
quiet but powerful when outstretched an angler waiting for prey.
Odysseus, only, can hear this Siren play.
Follow her legs, those tawny plains,
unbroken, guiding along welcomingly,
inviting curiosity and conscripting imagination.
An oasis.
And her torso is a valley from which
her laughter is ****** upward and resisted until uncontainable.
Dimples break and burst like earthquakes.
A ridgeline is all that awaits until we see her face.
She is the Americas from bottom to top.
Follow her decorated canyon mouth
but know it is merely a diversion.
Her eyes are icebergs, which shyly reveal themselves
to sink ships and drown lovers, for always.
Her hair is aurora borealis,
the northern lights,
dancing colorfully
to an unaccompanied waltz
heard by everyone but her.
As the memory of her sits the smoke billows around
like clouds traveling down a coastline
only to dissipate
and disappear.
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
Rolling a joint was his specialty
Smoking **** was his hobby
Being on top of rooftops was his favourite place to be
A **** is the one thing he always carries
And the lighter is the way he knew he could be away from reality
Even just for a little while
Buying a drink is his side job
Drinking is one of the things he likes doing
Only because it may be an excuse to do reckless things for one night and not being able to remember them the next day
And a hangover is a reminder of how much he had to drink
He does all this because of all the fun he's having
He may be a bad boy
But he brings good intentions
Because really he does all this to making his friends happy
To having fun with them
And of course have a little fun of his own too
Now you can't say he's bad when he's doing all the good deed he can do
Trust me there's more to him than smoking and drinking
He's got that killer smile
That'll make your heart melt
He's got all these witty stories
With a lot of rebellious and illegal things that was behind all of it
But he's got a kind heart
Someone who dearly loves his family
And the most protective brother he could be
The little things brings happiness into his eyes and I swear I think I've seen it twinkle a couple of times
He showed me chivalry still exist
And that there's nothing wrong with having fun just for a while
Even if it can be rebellious
Because he said that it'll be a story someday you'll laugh about
Pretty sure he's got more fire in him than a lighter and I wouldn't mind if I got burned
For he brings fireworks inside of me
Bursting into happiness
For that is what he has shown me
True genuine happiness
He said being sober was his biggest weakness
Not until he met me
Because apparently I make him go weak on his knees
And he says that's why he kneels down randomly for he's thanking God for bringing me into his life
He then said that I brighter than a lighter he would lit up to smoke
He said I am his sun who brought daylight back into his life
And every time he wakes up it's like breathing for fresh air
I bring this fire inside of him
That is filled with passion and compassion
Something he's been hiding all these years
For I have brought it back and gave him inspiration
Little does he know that he gives me inspiration too
The boy who lit it up for me and showed this whole other side of me
I've never been this happy
Right by his side
He said to me that in a long time he didn't mind being sober because I've helped him overcome his fears and he loved living in reality with me better than running away from everything
He'll always be the boy who welcomingly offered with a big smile to join him for a little fun get away
And gave and showed me happiness along the way
Always the lovely stoner
Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 2:52 AM UTC
It is with an emptiness in my throat,
a riptide in my stomach,
and needles in my heart
that I write this today.
I fear you might find out,
I fear you might realise,
I fear you might explode,
and I am terrified that you will leave.
If you happen to chance across this,
while actualising your thoughts into words.
Feelings and emotions I wished you share with me,
that you so easily convey to a machine.
If you could see through my eyes,
you would never feel insufficient again.
And so I beseech God to rid my mind of you;
a mind that is welcomingly plagued by your presence.
A mind that personifies hypocrisy;
as I read your writings about a boy,
wishing they were about me
but they are not.
And yet I still keep going back.
Hoping to find my name in your words one day.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 8:09 AM UTC
When he tells you he never wanted to you from the beginning
do not try to change who you are
to fit his liking
he does not deserve you
and he never will
when he gives you the
“it is not you it is me”
tell him
“you are **** right
I am a goddess
and I need no peasant”
When he tells you
“I think we should stop talking”
allow yourself to feel the pain
of losing a friend
but to not allow yourself to mourn
the loss of someone
who does not matter
When he bangs
on the fragile door of your heart
and demands to be let out
Open it welcomingly
Do not beg him to stay
When he tells you
“you should probably hit the gym
more often you know you’ve been getting a little chubby”
Block your ears with love for yourself and leave him with joy
When he makes you feel
you are hard to love
understand that puddle walkers
will never appreciate
The greatness of an ocean
When you find out
he has been sharing his love
with another that is not you
realize he is wasting time
Playing with stars
when he has the moon
realize you are that moon
And you deserve
nothing less than the sun
When he fills the blank space
in your mind
tear that page out
and throw it away
After all, he was a simple rough draft.
Understand you hold galaxies
in you
that your mind
is a universe
far too complex for his simplicity
You will someday learn
that you deserve the love
of 1000 burning suns
One mere candle will not do.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 9:55 PM UTC
He stands there with a passive regard.
The silence mirrors that of a graveyard.
In front of a lit door,
enters the wintry air.
Extends his arm, welcomingly unbarred.
Dec 15, 2019
Dec 15, 2019 at 4:09 PM UTC
She,
caugh ***** but at rest, posing fully attentive,
in her favored chair, a Mies van der Rohe of a
leathery chocolate color, which admittedly is most
accepting of the human frame most welcomingly
but She, gazes relaxedly & rigid, unflinching fixed,
upon on of our Friday flower self-giftations,
an array of eye filling pink and white peonies,
that have mesmerized, entranced and made
her rigidly relaxed, peaceful whimsy on her face
the seasons of life are short, the season of peonies,
is an abbreviation in human terms, perhaps a dot,
a single month a year, in truth overshadowed by
their competition, overly popularized cherry blossoms,
but these 5 P’s, are in her brief of, most pleasuring
pink peony prized possession, remarked upon
with always trace sadness throughout a diminished,
perma~lacking, imbalanced, rest-of-the year, with
sighs emanating from where her essence resides
minutes pass, I too, pass by, dithering to/fro other rooms,
but She, transfixed, breathing quietly, she neither notices,
or acknowledges my temporal interruptions in her moment
of possession by the robust busting opening of the flowers,
an eclectic, electric charging of amentia, for she is
enwrapped and entranced
in an emotional place only that She,
this woman,
shares with no one else, a Universe tiny but all encompassing,
her eyes winnowed and windowed upon the extravagance of
the beauty that comes so briefly…
May 6, 2024
May 6, 2024 at 12:06 PM UTC
there are leaves within the river
and anger floats alongside them
headed for its delta
to settle in the sea.
there are limits to your love
a hallway filled with doors
some locked, some not.
and you refuse to make the keys
there is a ******* word for you
but it is ice on the slope of a deadly hill
and my words are welcomingly warm
and foreign to spitting bitter things
there is a thorn between my toes
from the excursion i've embarked
but my barefoot needs to keep in contact
to know i'm not within a dream
so i will throb and bleed
and leave behind a path,
so red and wet atop the forrest floor
alongside these leaves within the river
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 9:43 PM UTC