"wimper" poems
romeo is bleeding but not so as you'd notice
he's over on 18hh street as usual
lookin' so hard
against the hood of his car
and puttin' out a cigarette in his hand
and for all the pachucos at the pumps
at romeros paint and body
they all seein' how far they can spit
well it was just another night
but how they're huddled in the brake lights
of a 58 belair
and listenin' to how romeo killed a sherrif his knife
and they all jump when they hear the sirens
but romeo just laughs
and says all the racket in the world
ain't never gonna save that coppers ***
he'll never see another summertime
for gunnin' down my brother
and leavin' him like a dog beneath a car without his knife
and romeo says hey man gimme a cigarette
and they all reach for their pack
and frankie lights it for him
and pats him on the back
and throws bottle at a milk truck
and as it breaks he grabs his nuts
and they all know they could be just like romeo
if they only had the guts
but romeo is bleeding
but nobody can tell
and he sings along with the radio with a bullet in his chest
and he combs back his fenders and they all agree its clear
that every thing is cool now that romeos here
but romeo is bleeding and he winces now and then
and he leans against the car doors
and feels the blood in his shoes
and someones crying in the phone booth at the 5 points by the store
romeo starts his engine and wipes the blood off the door
and he brodys through the signal
with the radio full blast
leavin' the boys there hikin' up there chinos
and they all try to stand like romeo
beneath the moon cut like a sickle
and they're talkin' now in spanish about there hero
but romeo is bleeding
as he gives the man his ticket
and he climbs to the balcony at the movies
and he'll die without a wimper
like every heros dream
just like an angel with a bullet
and cagney on the screen
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
My heart beat stopped with a wimper
like a cry swallowed by the night. Stifled
by the
prettiest
little
monster.
Hair like Hell-fire licking the sides of
her face tracing cheeks like lips in the dark.
Fangs hidden behind smiles and honeyed words
that put me at ease as easy as a lullaby.
I am the perfect victim and she is
the prettiest little monster.
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 8:11 PM UTC
What memories am I allowed to keep?
When will I dream again in my sleep?
Secretly, effortlessly, evermore,
More and more seem to slip through my pores.
Forget is a monster who waits in dark,
Snatching up tidbits without remark.
Harmless at first, but it is bound to grow,
Until I'm unsure of what I know.
I can not remember the words to speak,
Sentences shiver, wimper and creak.
Have I not seen you sometime, once before?
Lately, it seems,
I can't be sure.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
He glanced over at the counter,
Knowing exactly what was there,
This is the only way,
It made sense.
“No...”
The thought circled--
the voice;
"yes, do it baby, nothing is as sweet, everything will be better."
Euphoria.
A deep breath
and another
and another
fury engulfed his being
knuckles hit wall
again
again
again
blood flushed through the newly opened skin
****
Shaking
The urge was strong
Disabling
He was weak
No match for this devil.
On his feet, he walked to the counter
Reached behind the plywood
His prized casing.
Simple, silver.
Cold.
Freedom.
His hand throbbed
His mind paid no attention
I have you now
You are worthless.
You are mine.
What am I waiting for..
Trembling hands
Another breath.
Concentrate.
These were his best friends
They knew him better than he knew himself
The blades.
Exhale.
Careful.
He lifted one out
Thin
Long
Sharp
Perfect
Freedom
Twirling it in his fingers
Smiling ear to ear
DO IT
He positioned the blade
Held it steady
Pushed
Let it sink into his skin
He threw his head back
A small yelp of pain
No. This is what you wanted, remember
It will make everything okay again
The tip disappeared
The blood gushed
Steady
He dragged it
Slowly
Enjoying every second
destroying himself
bit by bit
Freedom
Almost halfway
Good. It’s deep
He dragged.
Index finger balanced on the side
His thumb grazing his skin
The blade disappeared
Given time
It would become him
right across.
his eyes shut.
The were no tears
He sat in silence
Feeling the blood swim
Instantly.
Dripping down his arm
Onto the floor
AGAIN
the taunt continued
There wasn’t anything left in him
You aren’t worth my time.
Use some of that fat energy, and finish the job
What will they think?
Nobody will miss you
Nobody cares
They’ll be glad to see you’re gone.
The blood didn’t stop
It wouldn’t
This would be the last time.
He picked up the blade.
Again.
It sunk into his flesh like butter
This is for the best
I just can’t
Push
Drag
This wasn’t about self control
This was the end.
Freedom.
A wimper
"Are you happy?"
"Are you?"
A constant battle
Dizziness.
He stood up.
Turned the taps on to hot.
Starred into his own eyes.
The ones he hated so much
The very reason he couldn’t go on
His legs gave out
It seemed like a dream
Crashing.
He hit the floor.
It was over.
Freedom.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
Sometimes I find that I am thinking of you
and my eyes drift towards my senses dissapating and
evaporating
in the air like little
wisps
of
smoke
and I can almost catch them in the palms of my hands-
but they instead snuggle around the tips of my fingers and vanish
in the air.
Then I go mad with questions, questions for which I don't know how to answer but by memories,
memories which are countered and argued by speculations.
Did you ever love me?
You said
Yes.
But why, then, did you let me go? Was it because you thought I was already gone,
gone like the little
wisps
of
smoke
that became of my senses?
That I left you?
I did.
I had already bought the coffin for my memories to be buried in with our love.
But you do not control your heart with your mind.
Do you?
No, you do not. You cannot.
Did I ever love you?
I said
Yes.
And I do.
And be mine forever, never let me leave you.
But you did, you bought my ticket and paid the cab.
You hurt me.
But I still long for you.
And just like that my strength vanishes
evaporating
like the little
wisps
of
smoke.
And I wimper like a lost child.
I am a lost child,
find me again, before I elude you
like my fingertips were by the gentle wisps.
Catch me before I fall.
Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 2:08 AM UTC
...the Word of God.
(sonnet #MMMMMCMLXXII)
Oh yes. I wimper still oer Mum. Care thence
In silence as ne words assuage nor bail
My soul, except the LORD's in sheer betrayl.
Orange kisses treetops, yellow nestles hence
In sidewalk cracks and dips, vines paint a sense
Of scarlet through the copse no phlox detail
Now, and lo, I submit a sonnet they'll
Not choose, remembring Mum last year--and whence?
I swear, the Word of God my home as twere,
Replies as through a parched land we ensue.
Grey hours rain drips oer, deep blue heavns we were
So fond of seeing twixt yellow Maples--do
Not have my ticket anymore. In poor
Scuse I watch Pride and Prejdice. Where are you?
16Oct16b
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 9:47 PM UTC
as i walk amongst you pitiful humans, i chuckle and stare in amazement
at the way you carry yourself
is your rightousness so dominat in your mind that you cant tell
who you are, were you came from
the shattered pieces of your ego are hazards on the path i walk
the wimper of your wailing crys that know your self absorbing
senses are fading, brings a smile to me
your trueness, you finally realize, makes you weak, when its
your turn to bear the burden ot the wrong you have done
and then you expect me to resolve it all, ah but i think i have better
things to do, perhaps i can finally teach love and the understanding
that i preach so much, to the next and perhaps final generation
if i so desire.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 3:31 AM UTC
suddenly i begin to feel very cold. the hairs on my arms stand up and i feel someone standing behind me. i ignore it and keep sweeping up the glass until i feel an ice cold breath upon my neck. my eyes widen and i turn around very cautiously, it's her. she is very pail and has the sadest blue eyes i've ever seen. she looks so fragile and lost. i back away quickly as she slowly walks toarge me. "where am i?" she asks tilting her head in confusion. i am completly and utterly terrified. "i want to go home... i'm very afraid" she continues. my stomache starts to turn and my eyes fill up with tears, i can feel her sadness and it is overwhelming. i slamb the broom down and run as fast as i can. "charlotte, whats wrong?" my mother jumps. "where are you going?" i don't anwser her i just keep running. i don't think that she would understand if i told her that there was a dead woman in our kitchen asking me where she was. that's highly unlikely. our dog ottis begins to bark and wimper, the sound of his barking and my mother and fathers questions dround out all of the thoughts in my head as i run out of the door. i gasp for air and look back at the house, and the little old woman is standing there with my parents looking at me curiously. i blink and there is charlie sitting up in the old oak tree, looking down at me sadly. i run down the street, my father and mother calling after me. this is a nightmare. all of the neighbors watch me from there porches and windows. some look sympatheticly, others with disguist. i shake it off and keep running, unfortunantly, i've become used to this.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 4:09 PM UTC
May you sleep in your final resting place
May it wash the tired from your face
May your eyes grow back their light, rid you of your wrongs overnight
And spare you
Spare you of that horrid sight
May you resist the urge to scratch
Shrug off the cringing as you look back
Back at the laughs you won't get back
And the trail of fabric you have yet to patch
Picking
At
Your
Scabs
Only
Make
Scars last
This I've learned from the things I lack
"One cannot run from their past"
You were,
Infected
And doomed to roam the Earth
With the horrid sight on repeat
Tortured souls
Placed gracefully
On tempered coals
"Don't sqeal, don't wimper, don't say a word"
They whisper
Because they can't stand the sound of their own indecency
..and ancient echoes ring through
"May you find freedom somewhere else
Fried through each and every cell
Into you , countless angels fell
But for now FOCUS...
Now, I know this place resembles hell
One day they too will perish
When that day comes
They will hear the screams of tortured souls
You my child, will see waving hands and windchimes
"So, for this glistening moment in human history
FOCUS .. on something bigger than yourself
Don't shrudder
Dont Shreik
Simply lay there lovely as ever
And burn."
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
Will I have any grace after tonight.
Will the intrigue of the day get me by.
Can I stand up for what I feel is right.
Can I let go of all the pain and scars.
For I know, each and every day without you.
Keeps tearing at my most grateful heart.
For I know, that no matter what I go through.
Living without you has been the hardest part.
Will I find the grace to leave without a wimper or snear.
Will the magic you've left me materialize.
Can the day be greeted with sweet cheer.
Can my heart be softened, more like I can recognize.
Or just left out like before.
Saying they can't accept what's been placed.
Open hole, cover up the floor.
Just where the unnameable are placed...
Let me find the grace.
T L H Joyner 9/17
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 9:41 PM UTC
All of those love songs make a different noise.
Each background cello note vibrates on my panel of heartstrings, snapping them one by one.
Each minor note sung by broken hearted lyricists swells in my lungs and scratches upward into a mournful wimper.
Even the upeat drums thud hollow and muffled in comparison to my souls echoing cries.
Music can not be music when the one my heart sings for ripped himself away, not bothering to finish our chorus.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC
Hello Despair, my constant companion,
threatening my stride, corrupting any confidence,
insulting my intelligence, forbidding me to improve,
denouncing me as unworthy, I recognize you.
I'll not let you win, even when you bear more strength,
fighting till the death, mine or yours.
I resist your name for me,
old age coming, colorless shape,
forgotten something,
needless.
Under your heavy core that masses like lead,
I'll wimper with a finale breath,
even when there is no one left to believe, remember, or hear,
I will fight against you.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC