For a DTR from you I’m waiting,
and no more is it up for debating.
Quit bread-crumbing me,
or ghosted you’ll be
after ten years of off-and-on dating.
Categories:
crumbing, valentines day,
Form: Limerick
Fragments of crumbing emotions morph
into all the different shapes necessary;
to complete the puzzle of life.
My youth is a collage of missing bits and pieces,
fragmented memories of family;
haunting, faded
recollections.
I recall a few fleeting moments of happiness,
and yet, the veil of time shadows the rest.
I don't remember any suppressed stuff;
those old scars still mark my dreams as incomplete.
Can love compose a meaningful picture
from so many misshapen pieces;
find the castaway cut-outs,
and start shaping new ones?
Life is a puzzle;
and like all puzzles,
if you want to see the completed picture,
you need to fill in the pieces.
Categories:
crumbing, angst, anxiety, feelings, life,
Form: Verse
“ It's gonna fall….Hammer, you know, Hammer To Fall
While you're waiting for the Hammer To Fall
Give it to me one more time “ By Brian May of QUEEN
I listened to love for years still feeling the pain.
Pulling back the cover Crying out in vain.
Silenced, I feel the pressure on my heart.
The truth belongs to yesterday, I didn’t feel it start.
Breathing isn’t easy, I need to soar through the sky,
Bitter nights with burning heat I ask the reason why.
Ghostly images, crumbing palaces, flags fly, sun returns.
The memories of yesterday but the memory burns.
Reached rock bottom is it a dream, need to be free.
Is this man down here, the drunk in jail really me.
Need to get away.
To reach my yesterday.
This poem was inspired by 'Song of Yesterday' by Black Country Communion
Categories:
crumbing, passion,
Form: Rhyme
I hear it,
That symphony in my head,
Countless notes guiding my being into a new beginning, following the notes and each one creating the orchestra of my body.
But, my hands are frozen, my body frail to the well equip mind,
My band plays on broken down pans and splintered strings.
But a glimpse of well oiled bows, refined power in the hands of the mind.
The chords are close to being heard when the power is lost,
Crumbing in the path of the ashen plane.
Forgotten by the forged fire of the drums
The unbearable thunder in my chest from the outside world.
I’ll stay in my seat,
I’ll watch the destiny before me,
Because I could never go on that stand
And be something.
Categories:
crumbing, anxiety, music,
Form: Free verse