I told you how I felt,
but you'd twist it to arguments,
and now I wonder is it
worth speaking at all?
I stand here, weighing it up
respect and distance,
I've been matching what you give,
but when the lines blur,
I begin to pull away.
No one's coming to save me,
I've known that for a while.
But I thought you'd be there
to break my fall.
Am I wrong?
Your actions say so.
And now, I'm deciding if staying
is just me falling anyway.
Cold Fire
Bach over reaches
Arguments are won in dusk
Time brings to the brink
when you discover
tomorrow's sun
was blazoned in her shadow
legends crumbling
we succumb
to the languid legend
Noise
Noise is not anger.
Noise is not aggression.
Not like my father shouting
My sister crying and my mother.
Moaning and me begging
For the noise to stop
The rows to subside.
For peace to reign.
Noise can be satisfying.
Like a Ferrari exhaust.
A plane roaring down the runway
Best of all passion
And the purr of the cat.
Yet noise still affects me
A cold shower that shakes
A churn of the stomach
Noise. Be quiet!
Silence is golden,
David Cox 13/03/24
You complain like the more you speak the closer the problem is to being solved,
Your volume raises and it speaks volumes to everything you don't understand
But who am I to judge
I'm still learning to heal and process just as much as you...I just don't like to ride rollercoasters
So my emotions rarely reach peak heights
I hate heights
Can we please just come back down to earth
Anger never helped anyone fly, and revenge only clips wings
I see your emotions have blinded you from that which you stand on
A pedestal next to your high horse
Let's ride the wave of decency for once and act amicably
But brokenness is more important to you, healing isn't attractive so neither is your tone
I'm done playing this verbal tag
I rather chase peace and dreams
You can keep chasing that worthless two cents
But the things worth more than anything is free
I'm not going to keep paying for conversation circles
p.s. I've got places to be...
salient arguments
whirlwind across the floor
rugs of rolling hills
closets filled yet more
the ones we never speak of
portraits fleering
infinite mirrored reflections
walls of respective distances
dogs chasing their tales
mad electrons seeking rest
grabbing at foreign orbits
i turn to her
i have failed in suburbia
the great american dream
i am returning to the jungle
my hovel there is safe
i do not speak the language
streets bear names i have never heard
the poet held incommunicado
i always get left on corners screaming
you will be sorry
Lenin and Moscow
MacArthur and the Philippines
Houdini and Death
i shall return, corners are everywhere
waiting for a streetcar
"Desire"
i have come to realize
i will do this again
some men can only pine
i bury them in it
San Blas 90
A boss can The Vigorous retire
While the latter is still a live wire,
His arms still sinewy, his feet sound tires:
The one who vibrant kids sires...
A boss can send home his firm's tears' dryer:
Saver of company's cars from mire,
It doesn't have to die down: 'the fire'
Nor does it need to corrode 'the wire'.
Then, your arguments could hearers tire
And, dragged too long, make you little liar;
Ones clearly seeking a confused buyer,
Wherefore you could not but go that higher...
Bosses mostly retire The Tired
And when they do they have them just fired!
words erupt from an inner world
of subconscious fear
things said that cannot be unsaid
repercussions accusations
love at risk of being undone
crushing
unnecessary painful with stings
of hurt and projection
out of place and perspective
daggers unsheathed
pointed at the heart of all hearts
booze does not have a favourable impact
the little devil is vile and unpalatable
loosens the tongues and spits venom
apologies make for another day
retrieve most of the poison
and the learning curve is out there
all time for times to get better
18th December 2022
Let’s play charades!
No. Tic tac toe.
No Pictionary!
Okay, time for Cranium Cadoo.
A game that combines logic,
Chardes
Tic tac toe
and Pictionary!
New argument.
I want to be green!
No. I am green.
I am always green.
The babysitter gives up.
Not realizing when Mom is here
she is always green
I have another piece that's too long for the poetry section - so it's in "Short Stories."
It's called "arguments" - about my summer vacation between freshman & sophomore year (at university).
I know I could take things out - to make the piece shorter and fit here - but then it's not what I wanted to say *shrug*
Here's the link:
https://www.poetrysoup.com/short_stories/arguments_10600
I hope you like it!
I hate when you bring out
this version of me,
I fly like a bat
I sting like a bee.
Hissing at you with
a red, forked-tongue,
I can spit like a llama
I can kick away dung.
I hate when the worst of me
releases such venom,
The stench from our arguments
Burn ... STOP!
What's been said I can't take back
or ignore it away,
No the scars are revealed,
and then on display.
So apologize to me
instead of Writing the next verse,
It's too painful to live with you,
It feels like a curse.
I have yet to win a verbal spar
Or change a hard-headed opinion
A waste of energy to try, I think,
They are someone's solid minion.
written September 6, 2021
Hamain dramaybaz kehnay walo
Ham dramaybaz sahi tum batao tum kya ho?
Kya tum Auliya ho?
Kya tum malaika ho?
Kya tum pakbazi kay mujasmay ho?
Kya tum sadiq-o-ameen ho?
Kya tum hidayat ki talqeen ho?
Kya tum pholon ki mehak ho?
Kya tum kanton bhara chaman ho?
Kya tum shanti-o-aman ho?
Kya tum thark ki dukan ho?
Kya tum chaskon kay pehalwan ho?
Kya tum nafsaniyat ka tofan ho?
Kya tum bay hodgi ka imkan ho?
Tum munafiq ho ya musalman ho?
Hamain dramaybaz kehnay walo
Tum batao tum kya ho?
Note. Crows calling us black.
Sleepless nights struggled to untangle
Searching dreams of private wrangle.
Which has beaten back unravel partners,
Solve the riddle with investigators.
In angry purple bruised arguments,
She Scrawled, insisted on resentments.
Covering up the truths in how she feels,
she does not like what Truth reveals.
to ruin her influential institutions,
I will lose by making the right decisions.
But unhealthy living is not a moral duty,
But a decision upheld on appeal by penalty,
Forcing the reign of bad, behavior rage
To be drawn into the attention of this age.
I used to walk the playground during recess
Listening to the laughter
And saw the stars twinkled and glowed in their faces.
Running, jumping, climbing, swinging,
And sliding in the rain,
Wind, snow, and sunshine.
Always made my day cheerful and bright.
However,
There was much more going on, than just fun.
Some would have bad days,
Putting a smile was my job;
It would go a long way,
Hoping it was there
Until the end of the day.
Some
Accepted silence,
Others conversation.
Arguments and rants would start.
One didn't need to anticipate their behavior.
They always came as a ray of sunshine.
They knew when one cared,
They'd come around with trust and no fear.
Teaching them to settle disputes
By talking or just turning and walking away.
12/9/2019
Poetry Contest: If You Live by The Sword Then You Die by The Sword; 10 lines
Sponsored By: Silent One
Her touch leaves no evidence
of her passing
nor does the imperceptible tremor
of her tensioned ease
alert her prey.
Too late they feel
her closing breath
seizing theirs.
©8/30/2019
Silence Poetry Contest
Silent One - sponsor
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