Draw.Freeze.Collapse.Breathe.Paper cuts thin out toDraw.Freeze.Collapse.Breathe.9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
those patheic excuse for a "Winning you back" lectures on those countless papers.
"Blahblahblah I want sympathy."
Was the loudest message received.
Nothings changed, I feel the same.
"Calculations must have gone wrong somewhere..."
Starts with a y--.
I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually.
This is Handguns vs Hands Down
Winter vs Water
Balance Beam vs Buckling Knees
Slow Down My Precious CargoToday I caught myself being daringSlow Down My Precious Cargo9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Leaning in dangerously too far
How I got the courage too....
So lets take this all the way
Or until we both freeze up
Glued, fixed in a dead on stare.
"You make me so nervous", it slipped right out i swear.
Lets see whos "beat" can win this race.
At the moment were both ahead of the tempo.
IDontKnowWhatThisIs-mylife-im sick of being friends with a ghost.IDontKnowWhatThisIs-mylife-8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
just give your words to me...
my hair is tied back, with a ribbon, so tight.
(to keep my brains in)
the bracelets choking my wrists.
(to keep my veins in)
(to keep me from breathing too deep)
i cant breathe you in.
i am the queen of dancing infront of the mirror
hairbrush in hand..
pretending i am someone, and im going somewhere.
can you take me somewhere?
whenever i drive in the car,
and we go through the puddles
i lift up my feet so they dont get wet.
but when im outside.
i jump in every puddle i see.
because i dont want to see my reflection.
its the saftey illusion, the windows rolled all the way up
so the gun man cant shoot us.
my mother is crying "dont shoot me"
its the last day of school.
im stuck in class, the gunman, the gunman.
hes running around
and im back in the mirror
(this is called a flashback, because my poetry has no rythm)
screaming to myself
something about leaving
Self-ImageDo you remember me for who I was?Self-Image2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Do you forget me for who I am?
I am the devil behind the curtain
and the insect under your heel
People see one or the other
because I give no other choice
Manhattan HufferIm the Manhattan Huffer,Manhattan Huffer9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
CO2 Inhaler 2006
Process through my esophagus.
How I crave my deadly air.
100,000 tiny crystals in formation.
They dance inside this needle.
Im going to convulse until these old lungs forget to function.
And since we all love bumper cars,
Lets dare to drink.
Lets dare to drive.
Isnt it exciting?
To be a threat to windshields and wood.
I bet its a thrill to examine them upclose.
(If you keep this up Kid,youll be examined upclose.Under microscopes and knives.)
Maybe if youre lucky, the glass wont hurt as bad.
Maybe if youre lucky, youll make it home alive.
Under that homeThere, I could write at phantoms.Under that home4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The eyes in which I reflected,
were a meaning to tie trying to.
When I believe that there is
only one, words all fail.
There, the bleeding of ink
was a shimmering. Something seen,
something to be consumed,
to prove myself corporeal.
swallowed by awaytaco bell bagsswallowed by away6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and half drunken
pad the floor
from breaking in time
while the sun
is delighting in the burst
that decorate the windshield
like some sort of
the aged iris
of this still-
a thousand copper gods
retired to the mire
in a slur
of the prayers
we never did send
to the sky.
if a tree falls in...a fenceless gardenif a tree falls in...3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
defenseless and unguarded
she watches you grow
we chose the tidewe were sick of the landwe chose the tide5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so we shed our limbs
for gills and fins,
we crawled to the sea
that was crawling for us
so we could swim,
swim the ocean wide.
open your mouth kid,
let in the tide.
we were just past the
the sea blurred with
ThrowAwayAnyPotentialYouHave.From birds eye view I could see you flying so low (Solo)ThrowAwayAnyPotentialYouHave.9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And the truth is your bodys shaking and...
I'm not listening or caring.
Is it nice to lose all feeling in your face?
(those lips will never let a word slip out after this)
"Your secrets safe Baby"
I'll swipe this smirk with a look of deep desperation.
Your backbone is persistant.
OscillationsGirl, I'd write you a poem.Oscillations5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'd write about your inflected accent
how it tickles my ossicles
with violent flutters
until the whole damn chamber
clutters with echoes
all the while
my heart's torm-
ented by the silent passion
in your eyes, and I
shrink away from you
like a Gorgon
from a mirror.
But words alone they mean but little,
and are fickle, and verbose;
and the Poem often withers
even faster than the Rose.
skywritingThey say that in the ancient daysskywriting5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
writing on sky was commonly done
And yet in these old modern times
we no longer write, but simply haze.
pale moonshine lustre lost in dullest grey
how I wish that we descendents
had still some beautiful words to say
to write within
the untouchable sky
EvolutionAn insect creepsEvolution5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the grooves of my palm.
Note the nonchalance
and lack of alarm.
How mechanic in its clockwork form,
it marches only.
The planets creep
on a milky arm.
In our snowglobe
we feel dim alarm.
Yet bloody battle standard torn
on newborn legs
man stumbles on.
The Galaxy twists
as billions of lights.
forming from mists
But in the veins of this
The fermentations of
paradise, and a parasite
that cries with each night,
and jumps in each
temperate fruitful day,
surmising the stars
for any passable way.
Which brings focus utterly
to us, or to we.
How we are all children
when we look on the sea
and faintly remember
what it is to crawl
across salted earth.
In that earlier squall
of our birth to rise
and see with new eyes-
an unfriendly Eden.
Poisonous and ripe.
The Witch's WoodThese woods hold darkly,The Witch's Wood6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
lost and asleep, the witch's heart.
These brambles walk slowly inertial,
like honey running through her veins.
The wind chilled spare rows run,
anhydrous and crawling with
an arrow filth and rhyme
deceased upon her pedestal, misplaced,
We walk through the quicksilver sands
and enter the desert, her deserted domain,
where the labyrinth runs for miles
beneath our echoes, and slipping to
A serenaded vertigo on through,
her mind, her heart, her mirrored eyes
trapping the soul into their gaze,
and lets us fall through, lets us hang on to
these cracks. drip.
a liquid identity, bramble struck and stolen,
in the light, in the light, or lack thereof,
and we are locked, lost and asleep,
within and as the witch's heart
to a feral prayer.
the truthIt's simple to be confused by every day.the truth9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
At the present time,
I am enthralled by everyone -
and no one.
I wear my heart on my sleeve,
but it doesn't compliment
on my shoulder.
I take each of these words
and try to wrap them up
only to come off
I will get taken at face value.
I will get taken advantage of.
I will eventually get taken away.
The only time I can remember
being in the subway
I was on my way
to see a building
full of memories
to the dead.
Somehow, that seems fitting.
suicide by all meansnicotine, tarssuicide by all means4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and poison smokes
commit distant self murder.
we sadly see sorry tales rise
in the smoldering wake.
he's awake, at his own prolonged wake;
so far, it lasts forever.
there's only one probable exit;
not yet - in time,
the when and how
will reveal themselves,
it shall be explained:
no one should grieve.
oh, they may be sad on departure,
yet a tad glad that,
as was late habit,
he did the right thing.
a hint will be spilled in his will,
does not ravage.
its endless life sentence sums worse,
even, than un-conceived cancer,
apt dancing far off in 'the future',
more likely 'the never',
if he has his way.
and, we all know,
he'll have his way,
so he thinks.
robbed by the random,
though paupers for always,
appear truly wealthy,
pride being the magical mask.
some claim all is false.
in this case truth crouches,
smilingLeaves are most beautiful on the treessmiling4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Autumn's fallen brilliance of dead reds
remind the primate eye
that show upon the tree
in its season of living green
In the season of dying
the forecast shadow of lack
our need fools us with colours of joy
It is a time of self-deceit
Smiling I dream of spring
endless endingswellendless endings6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the spark took a twist
scissor-spit from her lips
a subtle shift and infinite
is simply split into bits
you're spinning sick
sinking quick and unmissed
every cheap trick unveiled
now scratched from your list
but that itch
it still persists
perching there on your wrist
sits downsleeve from your heart
or what's left of it
and what's this?
love's laid to rest
without a proper obit
transmit to your wits
that demands you submit
is a doubt
the charred remains
of a fire once lit
mad hatterI took a bath in mercurymad hatter3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on the line of sun and shadow
And then I showered silvery
It was so cosmic
so amusing and so cool and hot
So after that
I sipped some tea
with all my bunny friends
We did billions of impossible things before dinner
and it was not just good but wonderful
I am so happy
and quite non-sane
open casketfrom the first time at age twelve,open casket3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when my dad had his final heart attack,
i've never looked closely at the departed.
it felt intrusive into his peace,
his final exposed defenselessness.
the struggle was over, the contest, the race,
to be accepted in dignity, and grace;
see it portrayed, upon the somnolent face.
each person's death, timely or not,
fulfills an obligation to the universe,
and to its endless random ricochets.
to play, is to someday lose;
or we might consider it as simply
an always anticipated culmination.
death feels personal, but is not;
the final nonzero sum outcome -
as life resounds
from beginning to end in echoes,
an endless cosmic resonance.
[we'd like to think, anyway]
llp - jan2012 - dA
the gift that keeps ungivingher dark artsthe gift that keeps ungiving4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and pale arms
lunar tics these
half-witted quips and
verbal cheap tricks my
seems she sees
this mess as
want to be
not the oft
un- or sub-
and dashed hopes
of dusk and
sparks & signs
of possible light
of passable life
of that one last
at getting it
To the Tarnished MuseThis poem is for you, precious one;To the Tarnished Muse4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
you who've witnessed poetry in your pain.
For you whose flesh is skin and bone,
for you who've sought and sought in vain
the path out of the labyrinth.
This poem is for you, mistress
of imperfect rhyme, sweeper of the floors
of desolation. For you who'd forsake 'mint'
for 'used', who flaunts each blemish on your dress.
For you who go down on all fours
to raise a child you never chose
yourself. For you who're thinking 'overdose',
for you who'll live to see these days renewed:
Precious one, this poem is for you.
an island retreatsturns out the termsan island retreats5 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
of our endearment
scrawled in letters
long & hollow
between the lines
toward an end
on the depth
of your descent
on the way we
we're our own
the flesh that
a shadow casts
each future moment
to a shrieking
these bodies are
but haunted oceans
to drown themselves
in an endless
sea of endings
in these self-