Poetry

words.words.words

All poetry unless otherwise noted was written by me and has a sealed ‘pm copyright’. I’ll have some posts that I specify as my “Favourite Poems” so there will be no confusion about the fact that those I did not write.

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Words can affect me.

Like vast volumes of emotion unleashed
familiar soft hands caressing my soul.

Words can be physical.

Cut into me with pain like a knife
or cause me to tremble uncontrollably
in the best ways possible.

Words can be liberating or enslave me.

The need to hear something from her so badly I ache
then the knowing again from her lips that “I am wanted”.

Words can give pleasure and pain simultaneously.

One whisper at the right moment, soft persuasion
deep lashes applied verbally.

Funny isn’t it though how I’ll choose her words… every-time.

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I ache of my own accord, always the same
mental stabbings by my own inner sword.

I interrogate myself once and again self reproached
for past wrongs by which there is no amends

I curse my memory when I remember your cry trying
desperately to hide from all the not so pretty little lies.

How I long to bid time return, go back to the day from which
I carry this guilt so fully but I cannot change the past
or that for a day I was the worst kind of bully.

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must be aliens

engulfed..

wondering in the deepest reaches of my mind
does she know me, who i am, what’s in my heart
her low whisper fulfilling a need
by touching me in ways so unimaginable
my mind begins to plead.

instinctively..

knowing yet never having felt it that her touch
must alone commands all to hush and listen to
her reverberating sound like the sun’s warm kiss
against the cold winter ground

acute..

awareness shoots through every inch of my mind
with little effort a voice inside me asking
don’t I know you? an invasion of inquisition
making rhyme and reason hard to find.

penetrating..

the best kind of mental fuck
so emotional, it becomes physical
soon to be unable to think
my will accepting its fate
how could i possibly want to escape?

permeate..

in and through me you’ll see me even before i ever
look into your eyes, feeling your stare welcome me home
like there was ever any doubt or surprise

the silence before the invasion is always so powerful

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self slayer

i ventured to the outside world today
my un-beating heart feeling quite untamed
truly it’s a wonder that i didn’t
burst into flames

i wonder how long will it burn
before i can stop this self-denial
ashes away ending all tribulations and trials

it’s so hard to remember a calmer time when
the stake at my heart wasn’t so firmly pressed
and the voice in my mind wasn’t choking on the anger
of how you left me so repressed

yet often of late, with my darkest secrets kept
i wonder can i truly go on or has your absence
become my slayer from within making this daylight
all that’s left

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will it come again?

leaves rustle past me
the wind slaps at my skin
i hear and feel something
then it is gone from me
i wonder, will it come again?

i turn around and around
searching madly
for the touch of the wind
again and again i spin
i wonder, will it come again?

in the darkness i feel it
in a crowded room i hear it
distinctly, clearly, through the din
and surely as always i reach for it
falling short to grab only air
and i once again, cold and alone
with my freshly slapped face
i wonder, will it come again.

and if it does ever come again
will i be able to grab hold and soar
or shall i remain so very teased
as always wanting more?

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it’s raining..

    today when i awoke

i heard it raining

    outside my door

        but this time

           there is no soft mist

there’s no need to strain to listen

                         as the street is well used

                  over and over

           again and again

                 like unmerciful tires

                         creating a multitude

                              of indentions

                               against earth’s

                    very grain

                       i close my eyes

                     once again

                                 acute

                            but today

                                  there is

                                      no hiss

                               only the sounds

                                           of slapping

                                 against the wetness

                          and i imagined

                     each drop

                        falling individually

                                yet joining together

                                           in a type of unison

                                                     lashing against

                                          a hard surface

                                                   repeatedly

                                       makes it pliant

                                                 so surely the rain

                                    is a master at re-molding

                                              the hardest of surfaces

                                   today when i awoke

                                              i heard the rain

                             and i finally understood

                                               all the sounds of

                                                              it’s refrain.

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grain by grain…

i had a dream last night
and in my dream
i was an island
and You were
the waves
crashing against me
completely
soaking my shores
with your spray
biding my beaches
to yield to your
powerful
ebb and flow

then suddenly
came your high tide
engulfing my every grain
i knew it had to be
so in celebration
of you
the trees
of my island
moaned out
your name

then as quick
as you rolled in
again you
were gone
leaving
only mist, foam
and a promise
to return before
too long

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worse. breakup. ever.

+uno+

i arrive home finally
i barely make it through the door
i become the weight of my soul
my body falls to the floor.

let me crawl into this ground
let me bury all this pain
let me undo knowing you
let me begin again
or let me die
where i lie.

i move but with
no mind in the motion
no sweet sounds
to drowned out
my inner din
can’t someone
whip up a tonic
a pill or potion
to cease my auton-like
nothingness and
free my heart
so tin.

oh let me stop
the movement of my life
let me halt
this bitter pretense
of living yet being
so very dead inside
let me give you
happiness
rather than strife
in the absence
of my presence
in your life.

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worse. breakup. ever.

+dos+

let them drill holes in my head
i’m totally game if it makes
the knowledge of you
leak out of my brain

and while they’re at it
have my blood replaced
with the kind of blood
that won’t pump your name
throughout my veins

let them cut out my tongue
from within
i’m ready and willing
if it keeps me
from begging
to see you again

in fact, just let them reach in
and take my very breath away
because it’s truly wasted
without your name to say

better yet let them tear out my eyes
without any delay
i’m more than able to bear the pain
if it keeps me from seeing you
look past me over and over again.

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time for me to exit
to the left of the ride
go ahead
call me chicken-hearted
if you so desire
but my saying this
in no way indicates
lack or loss of
my passion or fire
it’s just that today
i have decided
i’m climbing down
off this roller coaster
taking my seat
on the pretty horsey
on the colorful nice
and slow-moving carousel

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tapestry

need can weave one’s perceptions
you reap it — you sow it
i’ve heard them say
although this time
my sowing
will be different

i want to “sow” a quilt
the threads will be strong
no loose ones that can’t be fixed
because the seams
were made incorrectly
from the start

i plan to use strong thread
it has to be
for moths eat through
weak thread
leaving nothing behind

today i start spinning my own wheel
weaving my own personal tapestry
so when she arrives
i’ll already be warmed
by the quilt i made
and be ready to share
all the warmth

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little boi new

It’s all so new to me.
And quite a surprise
Bursting through
That which is the
Dark alley of my mind

I see a smile
That shines on in
Reaching through and guiding
This boyish girl who is blind

I reach out to feel
Her sunshine on my face
I hear the laughter
And bask in the warmth
Of her rays

She tugs on this unknown
Part of me and in one
Fluid motion
Comforts, Listens,
Shares, Flirts, Smiles
And as she touches
The child inside
I feel Her calling
me outside to play

What a lovely combination
Of sun and shadows
As we flow back and forth
Sharing together
A fun inner pinch, poke, wink
and a much-needed pat on the head

I wonder inside am I dreaming
As She tells me
A story with a devious grin, a raised eyebrow
A quick slap to my tush
And sends me to bed.

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i thrust my finger
into the foamy fizz
watch it
retreat quickly
allowing me
to drink deeply
to quench my thirst

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Xena Poem: Nightmare of Fire

Intense heat
fire then screams
bathed in sweat
awakened again it seems.
Damn you Morpheus
why must you
curse my dreams?

To sleep
without dreaming,
to dream
without burning,
just one night
of peace
is for all I am
yearning.

The ashes
once my soul
now my rage
inflamed,
to the one
destroyer,
I lay
all the blame.

So here, now alert.
Eluded again by sleep.
For the sleep slayer
once again has struck
and in a distance I hear,
“It’s harvest time
my sweet,
soon you’ll sow
what you so long ago reaped”

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~cursed~

my mind goes
in and out of focus
thankfully, sleep finally comes
i struggle yet acquiesce
mostly out of relief
for tonight my tempest
came to me in a dream,
she came and stirred my soul
with dark humor and sparkling eyes
with sickle compass she came
if only to briefly
ensnare my attention
to create new haunted
waking dreams within me
of an ashen faced dark spark
of a goddess
alas again, as always
i pulled my hand back
away from the flame
when i wanted
to be burned alive
silence is not golden
it’s a curse

i am cursed.

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i’m not perfect
holding my tongue
sometimes
is like holding back
a speeding train
with just a toothpick
please don’t ask why
because if i open my mouth
a train wreck is GOING to happen today.

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..full circle..

sometimes growth
she is a bastard
sadistically germinating
like a sharp cut
ripping the heart
because at first sight
it’s only pain
until the thunder-clap
(the clue bat twap)

hits right after
you see the lightning
of reality
of what is now
versus
the old misconceptions
finally
all is revealed
and the me who i was
is better
older
wiser
and once again
rich
in a renewed
friendship
long missed

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