The roller left a wet
Textured topography
On the drywall
A fresh
Continent
Of liquid chalk
Under a steady
Unblinking gaze
The gloss begins to warp
The fumes carry
A quiet hum, a frequency
That unlatches the deadbolt of the mind
My eyes
Track
A single, rebellious drip
A slow-motion comet
Cutting through
A matte sky
In the five seconds
It takes
To drop an inch
I have built
A city
In my head
Lived a lifetime
Inside a song
I forgot the title of
And wondered
If the sky
Feels this heavy right before it rains
The perimeter is curing now
Turning dull
At the edges
By the time
This surface
Loses its shine
I will have traveled
Lightyears
And forgotten my way back
In half.
I left therapy with chewed up gum in my mouth, tastes like my own brain goop.
I took my luggage which was really the “not sorry,” in that room.
Jump started.
Brushing my teeth with that therapy gunk.
It tastes like the crust of what a bug spit out.
Those busted up words and tears.
In half.
And both halves are as alive as the inside of a planet lightyears away.
I left therapy and my jaw started tasting good as carrion-gum.
I left therapy.
With an alive secret.
Tangled sheets
Another night goes by,
Was the night even here?
Minutes jump to hours into lightyears.
Dreams turn to nightmares,
Taunting my troubles with skilled pleasure.
A cycle always repeated after a bad day
Or good.
My tangled sheets tangle my mind
Twisting the fabric of my thoughts
Trying to find the cold side where I could rest my head,
But the cold restlessness does not leave my tangled sheets.
Another hour
Another tear spent.
“Why can’t I sleep anymore?”
Without music my head is full of loud silence.
Constantly telling me that it is my fault.
My mind is like a machine,
Constantly thinking.
04:11 am.
I have tried reading, but it does not help anymore
Even worse when winter has arrived,
The cold giving you a cold.
Heck, I cannot even lie down otherwise I cannot breathe.
Always coughing.
Body aching.
Yet my sheets are still tangled,
Just like me with my responsibilities
They tell of the stars that burn,
beyond my gaze,
and all the galaxies
that churn on
paying no heed to me, and all my earthy plights.
But I don’t see
those blazing lights, for they shine beyond
my gaze, lightyears away.
For my problems are not weighted on
the scale that pertains to all of humanities issues,
but on my personal one, pertaining to the blip in time
I have experienced.
The whole point is that I don’t see every star,
the light pollution that is my years of life
is all i know
and know to feel.
In silent drumbeats of depression
throbs a fractal life of no "visualization".
dandelions fluffing in howling winds
fight with Halloween "hallucinations".
behind the dusk of a sealed doorway lies
a vast empty space of no sun-showers...
I need a spaceship
to take me to a place I have never been
many lightyears away to another planet.
Where timeline untangles and "dream" floats
treading "whimsy" paths by moonlight.
Where crystalline castles of "imagination"
build chimeras over craterous depths.
Where a wandering soul can escape
into "reverie" flights of a wishful heart.
Where in pure beauty of the still night
dazzles a chest of rubies in onyx eyes.
Coding messages in long forgotten songs
through rows of roses, Will I get my Mozart?
In foams of a sea, only sorrow and suffering,
Will my status quo change to a happy ending?
i listen to your voice
but you're not here
and may as well be
lightyears out in space
tonight the moon
feels much more present
as its allure sways me
to a most bewitching beat
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
The boomeranging echo
deafening to receive
retro rockets smoking with the effort to retrieve
What dignity affords
Approaching the singularity
Where mathematics misbehave
Infinitely distorted space and time discovers I am brave
For this the final frontiers inimitable calling to me softly astral plane
Rosie the robot
Taking on a life of her own
Worlds beyond comprehensive control boweavil seeking her home
54321 Houston we have lift off
Winging through the atmosphere this star dust studded loam
Made for growth this rootless vine ideal it seams to roam
Nomadic maiden trying to ignite fire with sodden sticks
In a van down at the river
Still up to your old tricks
This hardwired struggle release
Return oh Viking warrioress
You won this fight at birth
Now sail with pride this prairie schooner when you return in peace
Rest my sweet Rest
For you are lightyears or a softly spoken word away
Prepare for your reentry
at last
Your coming home
I did not think you knew what an azimuth was, I said to Guy.
“I am not a Neolithic,” he told me with a sniff, I know why…
Some people misjudge this brilliant child of two months past twelve.
His mind goes where others have never had the chance to delve.
What do you use it for? I asked, testing him just a bit.
“to install satellite dishes,” he said. He is a precocious little chit.
We were at the Wambuul river where the Casuarina trees grow.
Not an elegant place, but it suited us down to each toe.
Guy suggested knapping a bit of flint while we were here.
I had some of my tools so I said “of course, why not? where?”
His mind was lightyears away, for he had his brain in a book.
Reading about quasars, for his mind grabs knowledge like a hook.
lightyears away
you're the silence of the midnight air
piano notes still linger in my ear
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~LOVE BITS AND BITES~ 2023
AP: 3rd place 2022
I grew up with philosophers
and never realized
how grandiose those thinkers were
before my very eyes
Neither had a Ph.D.
or similar degrees
or authored books that often took
supreme intelligence to read
They had no claim to fortune or fame
but simply, lived life well
from day to day and throughout the years
though I could never tell
The depth of all their thoughts and dreams
and how they navigated
through mud slides and rising tides
all the while, I was elated
Not privy to their tribulations
and mountain peaks to climb
in all their pains and aggravations
their spirits always shined
Reminding me of Socrates
and Plato in some ways
always finding peace of mind
despite some dismal days
Giving until their final ends
all the beauty and truth sublime
until they bequeathed this world to me
I was living as if half blind
But now I see their philosophy
all these tears and lightyears later
my dad and mom sang one sweet song
to me and our Creator.
I just, seem to get an argument
Sometimes the breeze just calls my name again
But those curls aren't that hard enough
Sometimes I notice the moon looking at me
Desperately, falling in love every second
But when I tried to reach her, I fell to the ground
Thousands of kilometers away
Lightyears of distance, in just a few instants
Our memories became instances
And instead I cried my soul out, again
Now I'm whole, as I accepted the hole in my chest
Turns out it really was a bloody mess, misunderstood even by my meds
Sometimes I feel worse than a fed, the way my eyes are preaching to get a sight of what I need the most, what I love the most
That's my mom, obviously, but also somewhat ironic, maybe a love, I'm not plato neither my feelings are platonic
But I saw, that cute smile and my heart raced like sonic
Was in front of a mirror, this whole time
Whole thing was a mistake, except, how my heart grew and blossom even more
Throughout the drought and the pain it went
As the Prophets Come and Go
David J Walker
I
The streets are empty and
The empathy of stars blesses the night sky
With the context of a simple reality
Making us believe we are who we are
One person touched by one star
One holding the others hand
From a billion lightyears away
One turns to the night as
The other turns to the day
II
Halfway between the equinox and solstice
The earth seems undecided
as if it might change its mind about the season
as if the sun had given it reason to doubt
But then the first freeze sets in
As if on cue the winter claims the calendar
III
The thing about the gods is the
Fickleness of preference
You would think the issue would be
Some sort of proven reverence
Perhaps it is the inventiveness of our
Names and stories that change with
The passing centuries
Only a Prophet would know
But prophets come and go
IV
How is it that we hear silence
And see nothing
Is it a sort of death of our senses
An issue of depth perception?
Do we refuse to embrace
The face of defiant differences
That disagree with our perceived
Sensibilities?
Do we prefer self-imposed
disabilities?
Born and raised
In
Lonely
Solitude
Lightyears away now
Still keep the
Tally on the iron wall
The thousands and
Thousands of
Silver lines
Living
The same daily routine
Do you see
The same moon rising
And
The same sun setting
Together
In the horizon?
Are you breathing in
The same
Tequila sunrise as me?
Keeping count
Still keeping count
I know I
Can't ask you to stay
When I don't know
Where you're even heading
Or where you are
Can't ask you to say
When you don't even know
The words
To the song I want to sing
I know now
I know all about waiting
But I stay strong
They're out there
They'll be back
Someday
6/22/17
In and out of each town
I just love how all these beats sound
Feet to the ground
Even when I'm feeling overwhelmed, and completly beatdown
Regardless of if I want to sleep now
Or eat chow
I'll still put you six feet deep clowns
Taking you and the so called big cheese out
Before the chance of a rebound
Near and far from driveways throwing away a 'free couch'
We all got our own stories to tell
What the hell
I should've, could've made 2017 XXL
Oh well
I'm not going to dwell
Or hide in any shell
Just going to try to propel
And excel
Lightyears beyond what their trying to sell
Not quite parallel
Or in the same realm
Near and far from any ferns
Turns, curves , berms and curbs
I always yearn to learn
Always realizing their is a point of no return
I still burn some herb
And do my best to earn
While keeping my word
Through whatever occurred
Even if it ended up being a blur
What I recently heard
Was absurd
And almost left me disturbed
Because it sounded like a turd
And did not deserve
To be ever called superb
Do not think there is a day I do not want
Or a week, or even a year I repulse
Do not think I do rebuff
Any part that is you
If there is something I abhor it is the distance...
the distance that you put between us
In miles, lightyears and the length
Of your arm
In cold measurements of two cups water,
three cups ice, you dose our lives
You dispense your time
in small pills
The wild that we were so long ago
Turned tame and subdued
A gilded cage with
open door
Do not think there is a day I do not miss
Who we once were. I reject
Who we are now. I set
you free.
***
March 24, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.