Fumbling Poems

You Can't Hide Your Lying Eyes

There it is again 
That coy, sheepish look
I've seen every deception 
Written down in your book

So clever, you think
You're alibi bound
But the expression you make
As your eyes dart around 

Searching and fumbling
You stutter your vowels
But the bile you'll spit
Will come straight from your bowels

So spin your dark lies
Go on and deceive
I'm packing my bags
Oh what a web you weave

Red Dog

Loyal, docile, obedient dog
Why did you leave me all alone?
Now I'm a sheep with red wool,
And maybe it's your fault.
Fumbling sheep calls your name in the dark,
Not the one beside you.
Only the sheep with red wool
Wants to be there with you.

Fumbling Sheep

I'm a really hungry wolf
One that’s never satiated.
Your heart isn't enough
I need your whole arm off

I'm a truly gentle wolf,
Feeding on your bounty.
Maybe flesh is all I need
Not the tears you cry with doubt

What a lucky sheep you are,
Well-fed, with plenty of wool
Yet your eyes are full of fear,
Fumbling blindly in the dark.

"I mean no harm,"
The wolf insists.
He has no claws to wound,
Just teeth sharp enough to cut.

Voracious Appetite

Around the kitchen
I was bumbling
with pots and pans
see me fumbling
for something yummy
with an empty tummy
it was rumbling
took a long hard look
and now I'm mumbling
as there's not a lot to cook
but bread crusts crumbling
long past their sell-by date
it's ever-so humbling
but there's no point at all
this late in grumbling
about standing the heat
or beating a retreat
but better yet than
simply stumbling
out of the frying pan
and into the fire tumbling

Sanctified in Sin

Calm entity
entered in disguise,
silence before the scream,
walked in flesh and clotted blood.

No empathy,
no sympathy—
only rage and a ticking bomb.

Each slay, barbaric despair.
Each pulse, a metronome of fate.
Each breath, a ticking alibi.
Invasion. Foul play.

Mind occupied,
inquiring around—
an art of silent prayers
no one understands.
Lucifer commands, all in delusion.
Garnished trophies to remember the names.
No fumbling, no rambling—
only mind-twisted monsters,
carved in bones and thirsty for more.

Breathe in fresh air,
roam through crowded spaces,
slow and calm,
wearing a veil of illusion.
Wearing gloves of blood,
just like you and me—
he vanishes into thin air.
He doesn’t chase,
doesn’t flee,
just the blade cutting through—
then smiles in your mirrors,
Whispers the satanic lullabies,
a cold-blooded monster 
burried in a coffin 
that nobody knows.

Ache

I am sick with want
a hand to touch 
a kiss to hold
an ache for something
old as time, but new and
blooming. 

To feel my teeth against 
teeth
To laugh at how simple
falling in love is

To love, stupid fumbling
love, unendingly
to open my heart

Identity Crisis

Long after midnight
in late December
woke one night in total fright
as where I was did not remember
but more importantly
couldn't see
the forest for the trees
and did not recall myself at all
or who exactly was this me
but when I could
it would feel so good
as then I'd be out of the woods
so instead of groping blind
did quite the obvious thing
which then did spring to mind
made my way across the floor
stumbling fumbling 'til I stood
before the full-length mirror
on the wall beside the door
and to behold the sight
with my sore and tired eyes
wisely switched on the light
illuminated lo there was I
in all my glory
I found myself
end of story

Samsara - May 7

Now quiet, settled, easy, leisurely
through life’s affairs,—say, couched in everyday—
and sipping being’s sweetest, freshest ray;
Sunshine!, Sunshine! ‘midst winter’s coldest glee! 

Now troubled, disjointed, uneasily
fumbling, scrambling through dumb frowning time.—Gray-
-haired night’s murk weighs down gay light’s mirth filled play...—
tumbling through summer’s scorching cruelty!

An inescapable alternation
of gloom and cheer,(to be—and—not to be),
wheeling circles and cycles—infernal,—
recur, relapse, return through all creation.;
Remember, though pain’s but temporary,
vacuous suffering is eternal.

:::::::Here with me:::::::

                        Lost
                     fumbling 
                   past Eden’s 
                 apple blossoms 
              winds swirl confetti 
            conjuring up blizzards 
         snow globes shake reality 
        awareness of a world in flux 
       supposition heaven may exist
      built by a deity nothing like me 

      life’s edgy I trip spontaneously 
       vector on without destination 
         or memories how it began 
           anyway there is no end 
             just chaotic tangents 
               cosmic quasi-ness 
                 and one perfect
                     innate flaw
                       that i’m 
                         here

I Write

I write because I am full
of feeling

Fumbling through the labyrinths of my soul,
A path only my blood could find
As it courses through the jungles 
Only my veins could breed

Truths my blood knows better than myself

As I delve into moments -
Made into lifetimes 
With each passing word

I write because
I never learned to swim

And I fear to drown
In the depths of passions
I can neither reason with 
Nor contain

I write because I know better

Than to let my blood wither
As a dried reed,
Or to watch it burst,
Devouring myself
And everyone else with it

BORN WITH HOME’S LIGHT

was born with the meaning of home running through my veins.-
Lauren Eden
Topic: Light

Suzette Prime: BORN WITH HOME’S LIGHT

A primal spark, a nascent gleam,
"Home" in the blood, a flowing
 stream.
From that deep well, a radiance 
springs,
A light that knowing instinct brings.
Each tendril born, a sunlit thread,
Where hearth and haven softly 
spread.
No searching gaze, no fumbling quest,
This inner dawn, supremely 
blessed.
It paints the world in hues so clear,
Dispelling doubt, erasing fear.
Suzette Prime, where light takes
 hold,
A story in the veins unfolds.

Moving Through

[]
Fiddle sticks
Yes, I missed
In all the fumbling madness
I tripped 

I rose to my feet
Proceeded with belief
To find 
A determinating measure
With all the facts recieved

Gathering that of need
Grazing , I began to feed
On all the tasty morsels 
Left behind 

From seed to dynasty
A branch a leaf a tree
Climbing upward
A spectacular view
Atlast received
[]
If lessons achieved without a slip to your knees you will proceed a higher realm on an enlightening trail

Backspace

I already understand that children  
grow inside two blinks,
as quickly as the novel Mayfly
comes to the surface to die. 

I'm pining for those first days again, 
of edentate smiles, milestones  
to fund future independence.  

Pineapple-sized hearts I cradled;
lulled, exchanged dank nappies for dry; 
ferried on uncrossed seas, 
your armada.  

Smoothed rough waters as if by divine speech  
because mothers can. I was thinking that I could always be your oxygen.  
I let you walk through me, under, right over.  

The rocking horse
brought for my bromelain angels 
winged you away - 
this blasted Pegasus ...
I miss you now.
How you rode away, 
ephemera of innocence!

So, what then?
Me, fumbling wild in the backspace you left.
Your flabbergasting key smash to freedom   
broke our finespun home, you left 
me to talk to your father, Child,
to renegotiate  
the bonds;  

reconstruct ancient code, 
deleted excess text - 
obfuscating precision and knowing -  
the tribal tongue of lovers  

unlearned, forgotten;
escaped alongside discarded baby bath suds,
strewn puddles of rubber duckies, 
tired breasts suckled  
by fresh management.

Winter’s Rumbling

glistening, gently tumbling
washing hearts pure, humbling
resounding lights, mumbling
glitter alive, flakes fumbling
snow glowing bright, as I’m stumbling
through the wonderful, grumbling
so each flake sails, escapes – bumbling
glistening, gently tumbling…

on the edge of the winter’s rumbling

Morning

• Back from a lengthy trip to the clinic
• Haven't taken my first injection
• My hands are constantly fumbling about
• Causing me to fail morning inspection
• Dad finds the hormones
• Exclaiming "what is this garbage?"
• Then he leaves me be
• My device is seen charging
•In its humble abode
• Can't use it while charging
• Else it would explode

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