"widens" poems
RIVERS MAKES ME QUIVER
Youthful mind left wandering just feeling the wetness from yards into the curbs
Ripples running curbside over toes, forming those first streams for a meandering mind
Clouds collecting power,mists collecting,forming Drop by drop rains flowing into their reserves
High mountain lakes reflecting their passion, partitioned by beavers to make their own pond
Broken into brooks flowing faster downward into streams,cool and clear their taste like sweet liqueurs
Beauty not confined to a torrent but gifted with greenery and wildlife ,flowers that make the forests more confident
Trickles forming into cascades downward making outpourings & overflows waterfalls forced through the fissures
Gravity needs spaces we watch as it heightens then widens,making it's way through the continent quickly becoming most prominent
Admire her beauty but reap her rewards,wet bounty to feed the fields, food for fishes ,generations receive her treasures
Canoeists,kayakers or legendary steamboat captains are fond of their flowing, boys wondering where she will go ,knowing our tears of joy will flow to the sea should be our greatest compliment. R.C.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 9:19 AM UTC
I'm like a bird, I want to fly away.
Wrapped in a billowing yellow silk scarf
which shines gold in the light of day.
Perched on a tree branch, face the horizon.
Hope and sunlight glimmer reflected in
each determined eye which widens.
Ruffled feathers are my warm, windswept hair.
I will leap into the sky, stretching high
To glide through the air if I dare.
Music from Cape Town, a bird's song my ears
spread their wings and feel the song's lift beneath
and sing sweet as the horizon nears.
I am a bird and as I fly away
wrapped in my billowing yellow silk scarf
I shine gold in the light of day.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 3:22 PM UTC
From whom are you wanderer?
The road on which you unravel,
Basking,
and on the brim of infinity
the body becomes nest for neighboring
critters
Ineffable, microscopic, macroscopic
And in the (in) between
on the peak of no where the whole widens,
the well wanes a wish deeper,
All the while
diamonds crest beneath aim
Gold, my galore...
of whom, are you
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 3:50 AM UTC
You've seen all my curves.
And yes I mean more than my smile.
You've seen every curve of my body.
Where it gets narrow.
And where it widens out.
You know where every crevice is.
And you've felt and kissed my sweet tender skin.
You kindly kissed my mind.
We'll someone came to mind.
Who ?
They say kiss her mind and her body will follow.
-elissette
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 3:22 PM UTC
Finishing off a hot brew @ 5am before jogging to the gym.
Better yet ...
easing awake slowly
breathing in your morning dew
tracing your curves slumbering
between soft white cotton layers
spurred by your dreamy smile
as your cheek slumbers
atop goose-down clouds,
shifting closer
warm fingers search
cold toes tangle
backs arch
hips align
quiet eyes
embrace
to slowly awaken
our quiet space,
lips speak
of softness
cool whispers
and
warm currents
as nerves tingle
and shift atop
our navel's view
as we fall deep
into our fold.
...
time flips
as we slide
to sip
our hot brew
for 2.
As our morning roasted scent
glistens in the sun
we skip and stumble
through the day
sipping its treats
its gifts of torrents
and waves of time
to taste your full body shine.
Your whole body blooms
as you smile bright
your petals expand
eyes swoon.
As your smile widens
lifting you off the ground
tendrils shiver
fingers flicker
slivers of light
reveal what’s found.
Our touch tightens
as we enter the night
a moonbeam smiles
winds drift blue
skipping into slumber,
your tired eyes float
smiles relax
your body slows
knowing it’s comfort
exploring our intimate space,
its unknown intensity
a deep hue blue
of letting go
and holding on.
...
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 2:08 AM UTC
Let my poised obedience
Tip the scales and quicken your pulse
Let my body be a smorgasbord
Feast for your hungry eyes to devour
Let my silence speak in volumes
Resonating ardent desire
While your smile widens
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 9:40 AM UTC
Built up tears,
A dam released,
Violent movements,
Punching bags.
And all at once,
It liberated itself
Of its confining chains.
Alone,
An empty house,
All that movement in still air,
Very much hoping to be heard.
And the irony
of not knowing how to explain.
Harsh tears,
Ripped heart,
A voice made coarse,
Anger,
Frustration,
Fused a total meltdown.
An agonising cry,
Desparate movements replay
On days when feelings numb down,
And a hole widens from deep within,
Projecting from an empty shell,
Onto a vastly absent world.
All the kicking,
The punching,
Sore knuckles,
Aching knees,
Swollen eyes,
Dripping sweat,
An utterly spent heart.
And a hot scalding bath later,
An hour or so,
When souls filled a place called home,
It was as though nothing ever happened,
Simply a day well spent,
Rather eventful.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC
my body is simply not conventional
to the clothes I wear
there are dips and hills plastered on my figure
hanes doesn't take into account
my weight or my height
so pulling up the waistband
drills the cotton into my skin
with no room to breathe
but I've gotten comfortable
my body is not conventional
to the clothes I wear
the hunch back of Notre Dame meets
a protruding belly that widens my waist
when I wear shirts
fabric strangles my hips
displaying my grotesque body
but I've gotten comfortable
my body is not conventional
to the clothes I wear
aged binders do their best
pools of skin are dipping out the sides
my ribs ache and it's hard to ignore
when my body wails a cracking chaos
pain and overstimulation have crept into dreams
but I've gotten comfortable
my body is not conventional
to the clothes I wear
my body is not conventional
but it doesn't bring despair
my body is not conventional
and you can't begin to understand it
because it's too crippling to bear
it's staggering to peep into a mirror
seeing my being labeled unpleasant
with the unnerving urge to rip my eyes out
and splatter my blood on the glass
why don't I just break down and sit there
it's heavy to carry my weight and be hyperaware
it's easy to not care and maybe I'd take that route
but I'm not conventional
so I'm taking another way downstairs
Aug 13, 2021
Aug 13, 2021 at 2:53 AM UTC
You wander down the hallway
Feeling something shiver inside of you
You wonder what this feeling might be
And suddenly an image of his face
Pierce your corneas
A second later
He is there
And when you pass in the hallway
He looks at you sideways
Widens his eyes.
You furrow your brow
Lift the corners of your lips
Tilt your head
You mention how you always see him in this hallway
He considers you. Then.
He says it is God’s will
You get the wind knocked out of you
You know that it shows on your face
He dismisses you
But not before you say that you agree
That it is God’s will
You take your casual leave
Calling him by his nickname
Stepping into the elevator
You remember he calls himself a liberal
You hug yourself
You wonder if he sees his God in you
You remember he was born on Palm Sunday
You chuckle to yourself
You walk past your roommates
You feel their eyes on your back
You sit down and eat your dinner
You stand at the window
You watch the buildings bleed onto the streets
Manhattan swirls underneath you
There are points of light on little moving objects
The cars and the people
The colors and the lights
The smoke and the sky
The city pulsates, the city snarls
Eager for you to take the streets
You gaze out your window
And so, you decide, it is
It is God’s will and just exactly who
Are you
To deny it?
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 1:34 AM UTC
duck face to fish gape
snap chatting **** pics
instagraming the ******
narcissism holds sway a nation –
apathetic selfie queens
scroll past Syria
to delve deeply
into the Minaj/ Swift debacle
shackled minds line mall walls
behind shines the toothy grin
of sinister consumer based
individualism..
a schism widens as the generational divide
resembles a large impressive Grand Canyon…
as opposed to the little crack in south Colorado –
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
Crushed up light bulbs,
inhaling glass
because **** man,
whatever gets you high.
Although often,
it just makes you low.
chop , tap
and
bang!
You're off to neverland,
for a few hours
days
weeks
'till all the pixie dust is used up
and you are just a
shaking sweating infant
waiting to be fed.
They say getting high,
doesn't make you trip,
it widens your vision,
and allows more information
and light
to enter your skull
Dilated pupils
it opens your
third eye
they say.
Maybe thats why
the world looks so much better
after a few lines
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 6:13 PM UTC
Genie wanders
Another lamp breaks
Then another
Then another
Genie wants dark
Genie longs pitch black
The street widens
No one sees walls
Genie smiles
Kills the clock
Genie's time's grave
Genie smiles
Genie doesn't blink
Genie doesn't breathe
Genie is a cat
Dies and dies and dies
And dies and dies
And dies and dies and dies;
Genie saves the best
For last
Another carrot on the plate
Mommy's going to be
Mad!
But Genie is a cat
Genie only eats meat
Genie can't be fooled
Genie is smart
Genie breaks another lamp
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
As we begin at the starting line we know who's going to win
There's the white rabbit
Obnoxious,Cocky,A *****
Fueled by red bulls an monsters
He can barley be contained
Fur coat at attention
Like there's electricity in the air
But we're drawn to things with a flair
In our eyes his white coat nothing could compare
It's special
Then there's the turtle
Passive,majestic,shy,common
The underdog
We only like them when there's a chance they might win
It takes each step gracefully
Carefully, trying not to impress
It's been counted out shunned for its slowness
As the race begins the rabbit dashes away
Down the trail reaching its peak on the straight away
Not looking back
His speed unforgiven
Giving it the illusion of hovering off the ground
Not a sound heard as it flies by
The turtle still at the starting line
It's progress unhealthily
It to makes no sound
It's footsteps stealthy
But it stills marches on
The rabbit far ahead
Looses his sights that this is a race
He knows the turtle pace
He begins to dash around trees
Running in circles
His momentum makes the ground begins to give
making a donut effect
So detracted he begins to chase leafs
Caught in the wind
So burned out he crashes
Falls into a trance like slumber
As the turtle still moseying along
Moving at a records pace two steps per minute
Begins to catch up
Soon enough it passes the rabbit
Flabbergasted hes asleep
Quietly it sneaks away down the trail
Pace still two steps per minuet
As the race progresses the turtle has the finish line in sight
Thinking this is its moment
To shock the world
But it ain't over yet
The sleeping rabbit awakes
Yawning an switches its nose
Starts running again
He sees the turtle in his sights
Confused how this happened
There's no way he's going to lose
But fate was not on his side
As he widens it stride
Trying to catch up the turtle just near the finish line
One step and it's all over
And just as the rabbit catches up
It's too late
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
Months burst with potential understanding
Thyroid, Childhood Cancer, Breast Cancer
And Autism - a landscape of perception
I knew little once
Before lived experiences carved pathways
Of comprehension
Hand flapping, repeated movie scenes
Specific sensory needs
Neurological landscapes diverse as humanity itself
From verbal to non-verbal
From sibling to parent
From self-discovery at 34
My perspective widens like a lens
Societal Echoes
The world whispers harsh narratives
"Discipline them"
"Fix them"
"Normalize"
But we are not broken
We are different
Intricate neural networks
Misunderstood symphonies
Digital age amplifies cruelty
Marginalization becomes performance
Awareness transforms to spectacle,
Unfolding Truth
Intricate neural pathways
Misread as discordant tunes
The digital age sharpens cruelty's edge
Marginalization dressed as entertainment
Awareness turned into spectacle,
A truth slowly unraveling
Hatred cloaked in the guise of compassion
Bigotry masquerading as care
April - a month of performative understanding
We see what others refuse to witness
Complexity beyond simple categorization
Humanity in all its beautiful, challenging variations
Spectrum wide as consciousness
Unbound by neurotypical constraints
Nov 18, 2024
Nov 18, 2024 at 9:06 PM UTC
he goes searching for love in the wrong ways
guided in directions by bedsheets and lost
by indulgence in the temporary
decadence and narcissism
-
a mapless journey lead in the retrospected
direction of peer fulfilled gratification,
met already past the point of no return
by a social gathering of perceptions
and conceptions towards a tangible
reason
-
the smell of sweat,
consecutive exhales and inhales
pinpoint reminders after the fact,
held tight by only bedsheets,
watching her get dressed
pulling what she wore out
that night over a coiffure
of tangled penitence
as it rises above the
neck of her shirt
-
sitting admit the marrow
of vision lies an exiting
woman, usually
brown hair, sometimes blonde,
behind the marrow lies thoughts
of penance that digs and widens
the crevice of perception
deeper and deeper
-
at times of stagnant intimacy,
intimacy that redefines ephemeral,
retrospected notions replay
and stain the mind of
women,
usually brown hair,
sometimes blonde
-
by this time
he rode the the wrinkles
on the bedsheets too far
destined to temporarily
subside the loneliness,
only to find out in the present
that the destination reached
has a population so nullified
that where he came from
was far better off.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 5:55 PM UTC
Sugar baby
plaything for daddy
showers her in money
she’s his honey
Fulfills her lifestyle
widens his smile
hugs and kisses
never his mrs.
he’s paying her college fees
she’s often on her knees
has a child to feed
gives her what she needs
Is it prostitution?
or business transaction
Is either getting hurt
is it all just sport
Sugar is nice
to life adds spice
but too much can be bad for you
I hope their actions they don’t rue
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
Kiss my solemn face
With your lacy ivory trim,
That widens my eyes
In a stunned awe.
Kiss my strands of lament,
That blind me evermore
From this wicked humanity
I thought I ought to seek.
Caress my golden cheek,
And lie upon my skin so tender.
Freeze my teardrop's entity
Into a beauty resembling you,
And together you can waltz,
Under yonder morning skies,
Into the blissful, chandelier castle
That has never been.
That mightn't be.
Let it be.
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 7:52 AM UTC
Don't tell me the pieces of us
fell from my careless hands.
As if I was the Medusa
who turned your veins bitter,
and your skin to stone.
Anxiously hunched shoulders
can only hold up a relationships for so long
before giving under the pressure
of resentful looks and strained silences.
It wasn't I that scattered
eggshells in our home,
ear posed for gentle cracking in the
unfaithful hours of the morning.
My hands spread wide still aren't
enough to cradle your expectations,
and here I am, struggling to hold on to the edge,
as the gap between reasonable and unattainable widens.
I won't be blamed for leaving.
Not when your eyes have held ghosts for far too long.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
I feel everything, and nothing at once.
Sadness: that others seem to always
Stand with their back to me, and
Sorrow: for the indifference
That lies in my heart.
Walk away,
And with each step that widens your gait,
Run.
Reach escapes velocity, and
Pull yourself from my gravity.
Like a white hole I repel
All good natures from my orbit.
A perpetually scarred surface, from
Periodic collisions.
The heavens send their vessels,
Like tears raining from the sky.
Only to be burned up in my atmosphere.
Feb 2, 2022
Feb 2, 2022 at 1:27 PM UTC
I feel you slipping away my love
when the night is cold and still.
When the years rush in and stand quietly by my bedroom door,
quiet and mute with sorrowful eyes with shoulders drooped in resignation.
I feel you slipping away my love as I sit here.
As the reality glimmers through and shines upon this page,
the silent rage now unspoken for want of reason or assignment.
Broken and wasted like a crystal vase with roses strewn across the floor.
I feel you slipping away my love as I grasp feebly at the strings of the beautiful bouquet
that rises just beyond comprehension and wafts gently on the summer night
to lite tattered and unwilling in far places unseen by our desires.
Embers softly glowing and now knowing the end has now begun.
Years upon years of clawing at our fears that this was not to be.
A blazing fire dowsed with strife and ire ,no air to stoke the flame.
No time to play the game. All work and no play makes Jill a dull girl.
I cry quietly in the glow of poor reason. I feel you slipping away my love.
I feel us slipping away now and forever. The shell does just as well to crumble.
A castaway sits on the sandy shore knowing full well that rescue will find
his molding husk frozen in time and empty in the continuum. His bones bleached past.
The grinning mask of irony and frozen regret.
My love our reach exceeded our grasp but youthful willfulness and hope was the rope.
The rope that we clung to and weathered the battering breezes as we closed our eyes
to reason after all love will find a way ?.Even love was not enough, but we knew deep down.
I feel you slipping now with eyes wide open.
We watch as the chasm widens and shrug our shoulders.
Calloused hands tired of trying now. Weary eyes dry from crying now.
willfully stuck and denying now. I feel you pull away.
I will wonder the desert parched with regret of this I have no doubt.
But deep down I knew this. Hoping against hope. still.
There will be no other to take your place. Who could?.
We gave hope it's chance.
Once we did dance.
Life became duty.
We fought off the wolves.
We turned. We forgot.
We grew apart while joined at the hip.
How funny.
How sad.
Duty bound as love unwound.
No us time.
I feel you slipping, slipping.
Goodbye.
My.
Love.
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 8:45 AM UTC
What makes you smile?
What makes you laugh?
I want to know
So I could do that
What makes you sad?
What makes you cry?
I wonder why
These tears fall down my face
Every time I think of you and him
I wonder how you've been
If you stayed strong
I'm thinking of you all night long
And my shoes will dance with you
My shoes will dance
As you sit here
Right by my side
I turn left
Then I turn back right
Can't stand a moment
Lost in your eyes
As I gaze
I realize some tears
Stream down my face
Because I'm thinking of you
I wonder how you've been
Will I wait long?
I'm suffocating with this song
But my shoes will dance with you
My shoes will dance
As the light turns to darkness
And the music drops dead~silence
My shoes will dance
As the dance floor now widens
And the gym's filled with romances
My shoes will dance
As the spotlight surrounds you
He takes you by the hand and holds you
My shoes will dance
As you look up to smile at him
I hope you do look down and see
That my shoes they dance
My shoes do dance
My shoes are dancing
With you
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 10:05 PM UTC
I was sitting on a park bench in December
Whence we met
Just watching my breath steam
In wisps and curls about my head
I sat there in silence for a time
Attempting to discover who this being was
I recognized her not
Though she was mine own age
Eventually, I knew her gaze
And I looked into her eyes
Just to see her intention
How her fate would affect mine
I recognized her now and spoke
But my voice filled with fear
And my heart filled with ice
But as time went on,
My resolve grew strong
And my head cleared of its eternal strife.
I bellowed aloud
Just so she would hear.
My voice deepened with anger
And I proclaimed,
“It’s not my time yet,
I must remain.
I have not known love,
Life’s great joy.
This is the reason I live,
I am but a lonely boy.
And I have found another
Whom I hold dear.
She widens my grin,
From ear to ear.
I would like my chance,
To make her happy.
To feel life’s greatest joy,
To be a daddy.
So give me some time,
And come back for me then,
I will greet you
Like a dear old friend.”
And so she rose,
What a beautiful sight,
All surrounded by gray and white.
I stood entranced
By beauty unmatched,
As she whirled about
And looked at me last.
She spoke not a word,
Let no sound free.
But the look in her eyes
Was one of understanding.
And slowly she left,
Absorbed entirely
By some great shadow
Nearby me.
On that gray-wintered day,
While I sat in the park,
A young girl as death
And I talked.
Though she spoke not a word,
She showed me my path.
I know what I want in life,
What I can have.
And so before she comes again,
If I do everything right,
I can live a just
And fulfilling life.
Death may come,
And death may go.
But never a footprint
Has she left in the gray-wintered snow.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
She lets me try it on.
I want it. But I don’t get presents like she does.
It’s beautiful. Bright with a white, fluffy trim. Zip and
poppers all the way up.
She widens her eyes. Twists her hands into claws
and she says “Little Red, come here and climb into bed…”
I laugh. Her wolf sounds just like Grandma.
Ma swings her arm back. I stop.
She turns to see what’s changed. It isn’t funny anymore.
I hear the thwack as Ma’s hand connects with her nose. It
was an accident.
Should’ve been the side of her head.
Now there’s blood.
She buries her face, wraps her arms round my waist.
A darker red blooms on the nylon.
She calms down but she’s shaking. We untangle and I help
her on with the coat.
I don’t want it.
We wait for a while in silence; shredding lollypop sticks,
peeling the top off an old lemonade-can.
She starts to cut neat, tiny crosses into her fingertips.
Not deep.
But I’ve seen enough. I feed the lollypop sticks and
lemonade-can to the cracks between the planks of the pier.
The hood covers her eyes completely. I think she’s stopped
crying.
“You look just like Little Red” I tell her.
She says “Maybe I am.”
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 4:40 PM UTC