"wonderlust" poems
I CAN BE WRONG AND STILL BE RIGHT
IS THE REAL PARADOX TO HEIGHT
A LONELY PILGRIM LOSES SIGHT
OF ANSWERS THAT COULD BRING HIM MIGHT
AND YET TO SEED THE ANSWERS CALL
THE STALLION IS IN ITS STALL
HE’S NOT PREPARED TO TAKE THE FALL
FOR WHAT COULD BE IS CLEAR TO ALL
THE ENDLESS PARADOX IN SIGHT
THE TRUTH OF RIGHTEOUSNESS TO KNIGHT
I FEAR TO SEAL MUST FLY HIS KITE
AND PRAY SURREAL COMES OUT TIGHT
ACROSS THE ANCIENT CASTLE WALLS
THE DEMURE TAINTED SHADOWS CRAWL
TO FORM THE MORNING’S CLEARING CALL
EFFUSIVE ALLUSIONS , IRRELEVANCE FALL
THE ECHOS FROM THE GROTTO SWELL
LIKE MEMORIES OF ANCIENT HELL
THAT COMMAND THE OCEANS TO RESEND
THE LOWLY FORCE WITH WHICH THEY’D BEND
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 4:07 AM UTC
The cactus ate the moon;
a cosmic starflower;
a cyanide razorblade.
You ate your way through the mouse droppings
in the cereal bowl
and look at me through lens-less everythings.
The sun took the moon
to his midnight hideaway
and she was absent that night.
Beneath the artificial breeze
blowing noisily, raucous;
birds in a tree eating acorns like squirrels do.
I never gave you hope;
I never gave you nothing;
I never gave you what you deserved.
Senseless, mindless, wandering wanderlust
wonderlust
you're keeping yourself company tonight.
Ha! playing with yourself again, I see.
Picking your nose and rubbing your toes
in the sandy sandy dandy boy beaches.
Friendly, never ceasing.
Repeating repeating repeating lines
repeating repeating repeating signs
repeating repeating relocating lies
Nice to just let go
no reality
no gravity.
But I'm not defying, no
nor scrying, oh
but lying, go.
She gave me her hand
and expected me to restitch the fibres
as if I were ever so good a tailor.
Surgeon.
Nevermind.
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 7:44 PM UTC
I can be wrong and still be right
Is the real paradox to height
A lonely pilgrim looses sight
Of answers that could bring him might
And yet to seed the answers call
The stallion is in its stall
He's not prepared to take the fall
For what could be is clear to all
The endless paradox in sight
The truth of righteousness to knight
I fear to seal must fly his kite
And pray surreal comes out tight
Across the ancient castle walls
The demure tainted shadows crawl
To form the morning's clearing call
Effusive allusions, irrelevance fall
The echoes from the grotto swell
Like memories of ancient hells
That command the oceans to rescind
The lowly force with which they'd bend
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
glitter mist and clouds of dust
tiger fur and wonderlust
hills and flowers and brand new land
feet of stone and sturdy hand
marchway path and headway cliff
eyes of purity and open myth
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 8:52 PM UTC
Imagination
A gift, such a sensual
Wonderful toy!
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
Seas swallow me as I rock
Walking on the walls I can't feel a thing
As the ceiling flies away from me
Your body is too big to hold
The trees swarm around me menacingly
Like wooden legs on Nazi's
As the aliens spiral down from the stars
I look for you, I'm crying now
Your eyeballs float away from my sobbing hands
I can't wake up
Wake me up
I'm not really here can you tell?
The hickeys don't make me wince this is a dream
After all
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
When the summer of our youth has passed
and the bane of winter draws near,
we sit alone in opaque rooms
and crack ourselves a beer.
To the north we look with glossy eyes
yet to the south our mind wanders freer
we laugh and smile and grimace and weep
and crack ourselves a beer.
We think of days of wonderlust,
of scenes of timeless cheer
of children playing in the rain
-and then we crack ourselves a beer.
What happened to the upbeat muses?
did they take and destroy their lyre?
we wonder where the bluebird went
as we sit and crack a beer.
We haven't seen him for a time
and because of this we fear.
The gourds of innocence broke and leaked
and so we cracked ourselves a beer.
And with them chipped
we quaffed long and deep and into lands we steered
destined for hate and war and poverty
and so we cracked ourselves a beer.
Instead of honeysuckles and wafers
we feasted on bloodied deer
and watched our parents fight and die
as we cracked ourselves a beer.
Trees of mighty oak that hoisted forts
have fallen in the clear
as have the mounds of Geronimo
while we cracked ourselves a beer.
And so our friends have left us
our lovers are nowhere near
last seen flying away with the bluebird
because we cracked ourselves a beer.
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 10:31 AM UTC
Accepting brute fact would permit
a sad
self-induced
mental castration.
Feb 13, 2012
Feb 13, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
Lavander sweet, butterfly breezes
Love in the dusty yellow sunshine
Mason jars filled to the brim with liquid amber and honey
Fragrant daffodils, flourishing tall as trees
And
Darling panseys and daisys
Who dance like suthern bells
Bees take flight and the nights are filled with wonderlust
and longing
Starlight grazing the slightest lullaby
As is grows like thunder
And threatens to tear the unconciousness from your eyes
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
Lips and finger
tips send hips
on trips and some
sink ships. My ship
slips and trickles
down a rabbit's hole
I thought you were
a queen. Red cup of
liquid gold with dreams
about caterpillars choking on
smokestacks and fungi.
“Who are you?”
Even the Mad Hatter
would call that fiction
--------------------------------------------
Those blender-chipped
lips I kissed, that left welts
on my skin. Those Cheshire
choppers that could ****
a cat. You were no queen,
you had a heart of black
You twiddle-dumb
**** with wonderlust
thighs. Drunken eyes
and heavy lids that bid on
empty shot glasses. This
ship has done sailed.
Jabberwocky babies shoot out of your bandersnatch
“Off with their ******* heads”
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
I always thought it was brave of Wendy, to love a boy who refused to grow. To get caught up in his wonderlust, to fly and mock the crow.
She let him sweep her off her feet, with dust that shined so bright. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and they fled into the night.
Love is a curse in Neverland, unbroken by gypsy magic of old. Peter has a reputation though, tales among the campfire told.
The crocodile turned its clock back, to synchronize with Wendy's furious cries. The lost boys lined up with tissues, to sob their last goodbyes.
Maybe Wendy fell apart when she returned home, emotion finally giving to tears. Only in dreams will she remember him now, as her Neverland disappears.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 11:34 AM UTC
The morning was blue
And the world was endless,
The moon and skies watched from their fiery oblivion
And I sat on a porch drinking lemonade in the sun
The walls were blue
Claustrophobia and comfort
Tumbling into each other
Blurred and slurred
Forced serenity, forced to reminisce the sky
And fairy lights for stars in the dark
His eyes were blue
Filled with wonderlust and the heart beat of a hummingbirds wing
Ethereal sunlight hiding the smirk
Deception and beauty
Satisfied, spoiled and bored
The song was blue
A hopeful sadness too obscure for me to know
Marking the moment
Gathering the seconds among the staves
Those bluest of halcyon moments
Made up the darkest day
Whist the unsuspected turbulence
Lay offshore
As a storm at sea
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 8:33 PM UTC
Oh the world I want to see
Anything and everything
All the adventures out there to be had...
The desires in my heart...
They clash
I want to travel the world
But not without you
Could we make it?
Would you try?
Help me make my dreams collide
Ireland, Italy, Spain, France
England, Australia, Austria, Japan
All over England, then wherever calls to us
So many places
Such a short life...
But...
I'd give it all up to keep you by my side
I want a family too...
Kids of our own
We can show them the world too
After we've had our fun
Oh the adventures, Oh the laughs
Places to discover, People to meet
Mountains, Oceans, Trees
So much to do...
So much to see...
I have one question ,
Will you come with me?
I make such big plans
Create enormous ideas in my mind
But I'm really bad at following through
I can't live up to my own expectations
Say? Do you think you could help me make my dreams a reality?
I want to see the world so bad
Write about all the experiences I have
In the end there is only one thing to ask,
Would you like to experience it together, cause oh won't it be better
With you by my side
My incredible lover for all of time
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC
We sat at the end of the stairway
Outside your house past your garden’s gate
Our lips moved whilst exchanging words
Our gaze was vast beyond what ears are heard
My outlines remained shivering and unstill
We talked and talked draining our hearts once filled
Our lips ran dry, craving for water’s bliss
You then took my empty heart and leaned in for a kiss
You parted, leaving me immensely wanting for more
I held your hand and it pricked me like a thousand thorns
Blood started pumping through and past my veins
Into your chest, into your heart infected with pain
I didn’t let go to you holding on
Your lips stopped moving, your words drifted, it was done
I touched you once more, pressing mouth against mouth
Severing heart, this hurt more than our lips filling in the drought
You pulled closer; it struck harder, slashing past before my skin
I took hold of you, trying to stay stronger, mouth deeper than sin
Hand in hand, it was sinking in; I’m falling down the rabbit hole again
The stairway was gone, the gate, the roses, you were still there but I’ve lost a friend
The garden gnome, he held the clock, time was slowly ticking away
Bodies side by side, our hearts then stopped, it had almost seemed like it’s been days
She and I, once innocent, now bare, with no more dignity to hide
She whispered “come on Alice, don’t give up, we’re got our hearts to find”
Scourged skin, torn dresses, unpredictably she smiled
She said “I haven’t been this scared in a long time; it’s been quite a while”
Our footsteps grew distant yet the clock continued to tick
She lifted two roses obliviously, her eyes followed to the one I picked
She held it close to her lips, sliding the stem past before her skin
Blood started streaming down, there’s more than there has ever been
Wounds started to unstitch, scars started reopening
And with the greyest of eyes and the rose between her mouth, it slowly started unfurling
She gave me the slightest smirk and approached me with an embrace
I felt her warm touch draining inside me, the rose pricking me through
And the was the last time, I ever saw her face
n.j.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
They want me
They want my skin, dark as chocolate to melt on their tongue
They want to taste my sweetness over and over
Yet they do not want to know the history of my cocoa
Nor of how it got this sweet after years of being labelled "bitter woman"
And when I speak of that history I suddenly become less wanted
Less sweet
I return to the "bitter woman" always complaining they say
So they want me to accept their compliments
Answer when they call me "chocolate queen"
But never fully claim the title "queen"
For my chocolate although sweet is only good for a few moments as though I am an addicts dream and all I am is a fix
They want the story of my cocoa to remain untold
The story of how I was whipped beaten and almost broken
The story of how the sun scorched my bare back and the mud swallowed my tired feet
The story of how despite it all my cocoa still thrived and produced wonderlust fruit
They do not want to hear such a story, yet they lick their lips in anticipation of my fruit
My cocoa still tells its story despite this and there are those waiting with patient ears
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 9:55 PM UTC
Let's start off with this: I miss you.
Let's add: every day.
Let's keep in mind: we broke up 2 years ago and I have a new boyfriend.
Let's do this: get each other's numbers and make plans.
Rewind.
I have not been able to get you out of my head.
I have splinters in my heart.
I can still hear your voice, can still hear you saying my name.
I still get goosebumps at the thought of you.
What have I done?
How could I let you go?
Pause.
We were good.
I was filled with giddiness.
You filled my heart with wonderlust that was uncontrollable.
You made my soul yearn for freedom.
I had never experienced that before.
I don't now.
Play.
My mom said that what we had was simply
"puppy love"
Oh, if only she could understand...
If only she could see my heart.
If only you could.
Pause.
I want to show you my heart.
I have changed.
I am different; no longer afraid.
Let me open up my heart and show you the cracks I have left in it.
Fast forward.
My new boyfriend made me happy.
But he does not fill that void.
I am currently unhappily in a relationship with him.
But I won't break his heart.
I won't break another one.
I know I broke yours.
What is my punishment?
I have done this to myself -
I am breaking my own heart because I broke yours.
I am breaking my own heart so that I can avoid
Breaking his.
But wait.
I still need you back.
I still need you back.
Please don't shut me out.
Please...
Take me back...
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
Every time we talk, this cherry child has me hypnotized
Empty eyes and beautiful voice has my mind tingling
Itching like my palms.
Every time she comes in the room, the air gets colder
Leopard-skin lover with a pompous soul and a vicious need for attention
I am her mediator, showing the love she desires and cutting through previous facades
Calming like my kisses.
Every time we lock eyes, this being of wonder gets me star-struck
Woman of wonderlust, being of beauty with hips so vibrant as to cause movement
Dancing like my footfalls.
Sensuous beauty with the world on her back and a lot on her mind
Sitting on child swings like kindergarteners and just thinking of her past lives
I place my hands over yours as I guide you through the air with each push
Swinging like my fingertips.
Crazy as it is I’ve made no choices, as the loves I’ve felt were real
But there’s something about helping a person who is down
Deep conversation turned theory on love turned burden upon burden’s release
And when all is said and all is done, there’s nothing left to do but listen to the music of us two.
Sitting on the swings listening to the rhythm of the air, my love, I must choose you.
For no other can offer the sweet satisfaction of watching a young bird soar through the skies and be her wings, no other can offer the kiss of one who’s done it least, no other can show such truth.
So I’ll always cherish those talks on the swing-set and the problems uncovered as we chatted the day to dusk.
Steady pushing you higher and higher, letting you escape the hell and tears and lifting you.
Ever Swinging like my fingertips
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
Left lost after love's deep virulence,
Leaving me in deep need of a metaphysical therapist.
Her heart harder than the blindness of erebus,
But the relationship was based off of panic trusts,
So forever until never it was, a manic driven worldless wonderlust.
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
there was a time,
when dresses were taboo
and shorts stowed away in my closet,
afraid to expose myself.
i used to die in agony,
on a hot summer day,
just to keep covered and
away from prying eyes.
intentionally, sand would
cake my legs and arms,
while others laid in the vast openness
of the beach, begging for the sun
to touch their skin.
there were times i almost felt okay,
to show without barriers,
until i saw the eyes of my love
looking.
and for a split second, i saw
the sadness i caused and the
shifting eyes, wondering if anyone else
can see.
but you kiss each scar, you ask questions,
and you have a wonderlust to
dance over my past and to understand
my journey.
and now, skirts are my favorite things,
and i tell my story in hopes of shaping the lives
of those who have once been in my shoes.
and i'm no longer afraid, to wear my stripes.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 10:19 PM UTC
Can we just hop on a train and go somewhere where we don't know the end destination? Right now, this very moment. No thoughts, no second-guessing, no packing, no questions asked. Let's just go and go and go and go. Late nights, early mornings, and long afternoons with no plans—just the blissful taste of random, spontaneous life. Life without responsibilities and reliability. Without lifelong goals, dreams, and expectations. Life without bills and internships to get to that job, to get to that job, to get to that job. Life without insurance. Life without the question of life without.
Let's just hop on a train, right here, right now, this very moment. Don't question me, because if you do, I'll back out immediately—I know it.
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 7:31 PM UTC
We made
memories tonight.
as we danced like
snakes. on. stilts
and Sinatra floated in the air,
a one of a kind Polaroid printed in my memories.
Smiled pollute these exuberant seconds,
and although not one photo or video was taken,
and I can't remember every detail
I'll never forget the feeling.
a feeling of purity.
Oh! one of true living that I haven't felt since.............
oh. I don't know.
Life presents meaning in many ways, and priorities are made constantly...
but being with you felt purposeful.
step, one-two,
losing count because your mixed laughter with mine
makes me forget everything except how life is wonderful.
A quick kiss on your soft brown hair as you drive away with the Blonde Haired Boy......
i don't know if it's the over-caffination this late, or the residue of giggles left on my brain, but I walk to the door and step in
with a new found wonderlust for life
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC
The whole world
is washed out,
the drunks ramble on
far past the point of preminiscence,
to the reaches of ignorance.
We hold on so tight to our jobs,
our jobs,
our jobs,
our humanity is gone,
and I can't mourn.
When the sun sets
on a Saturday,
we crest and valley,
we return and serve,
we hold tight to our own souls
like we feel the skin of the dancer's hips,
in our fingertips,
everything is not really ours,
and yet we believe we can never be wrong
about anything.
The bouncer bounced out all of them
at 2 am.
Even the incoherent,
even the lost,
even the hopeless,
even the wonderlust of a brilliant night
peppered by sodium stars
and ignited moons,
and wonderful galaxies,
and incomparable distances,
it was all not enough.
Why is it never enough,
what bluff are we standing on,
camping out on?
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
Grass and leaf
A gross relief
Passive release
Never to cease
The herbivore, is such a bore
Covered in gore, decay mi amore
Aimless wanderlust
Aimless wonderlust
To live, to eat
To procreate
Wander over yonder
Never stop to ponder
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 3:34 AM UTC
i can feel you,
i can feel you running through my veins
intoxicating every blood cell in it
feeding me with pitiful lies
and cringing cries
making me drown into your self loathing wonderlust
because i thought you were,
i thought you were, life, to me ,
you made me breath fresh air,
every time i inhaled,
but soon, you became the reason
why i count my breaths and
hoping for the last breath
to come along,
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
Life has its small moments
commonplace beliefs that have become significant
But your heart aches with wonderlust
to escape reality for a moment
and embark on countless journeys,
cathartic and empowering.
So what happens when someone falls for you?
I am no longer able to be who I used to be
See, I’m fixated on the next step
I’m that someone who’s into you
And I’ll linger on the small moments
and reminisce the fleeting glances
in the hopes that there is something bigger
something much better
waiting in the hazy lazy days of the future.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC