Long Slurred Poems
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The day that followed . . .
Blossomed blue, bright . . . beautiful
Clouds towering into the heavens
Wheeling white, wonderful . . . wordless
The clouds danced in the expanse
Rolling on a sea of silence
Sailing soft, supple . . . serene
Saw nothing
Cared nothing
Floated away
Alone . . . . . blind . . . . . marvelous
mute!
The trees . . .
The trees reveled in their own wild
E m o t I o n s
Old Man Walnut – a true heart-wood
Big boned brooded black
Dark, dangerous, defiant
Lady oak took red at the edges
A deep striking flame-red
Her heart a luscious lively living green
A gentlewoman of a long experience
Patient, Peaceful, persistent and powerful
Elms burst yellow – effulgent
Cried for attention
Demanded attention
Wind whistled wantonly through her leaves
Tall, tenacious, testy, temerarious
Some of the maples slurred
A bright primary red
Like harlots laughing, listening, languishing
Showed interest but cared for nothing
The Sweetgums stood aloof
Star-shaped leaves
Like bruises oozing deep purple
At first draft
S N
T A
O K
O E
D D
Abused . . . abandoned . . .
alone
Crape Myrtles cluster together
Gossiping busy-bodies
Bursting orange with outrageous desire
Watching, wanting, waiting, wanton
Modest were the Aspens
Slender and graceful
Giggling trees
But where they were
They were so many
They could afford to be
Modest, monomorphic, musical, memorable
The Pines and firs
Raising forth green among the colors
Unchanging
Unwilling to change
Criticizing by their contrast
every other change
The Woods
The woods
The chaotic woods
The heartless forest
And the trees . . .
. . . . .The boughs, leafs, limbs, roots
That whole glorious community
Simply went about its
Natural business
Another day in creation.
Live and Love Generously
Disrespectful in so many ways, times where I almost wished that they knew, so I could
prove that I was just that good. Some guy friends I would let know and we would laugh,
talking that mess, but still on guard, cause my back I felt like they would stab. “Why”,
it was probably their girl I nabbed, old nasty, low down brother, facial glare just like a
glass. Transparent to the naked eye, being so clever, being so sly, corruption of the
easiest minds, almost like leaves blowing in a trail of wind that was flowing like a vine.
All connected in some way, if they all stopped and talked I probably would of been caught,
but man at that time it was a lot of fun at least I thought. Which ends the second stage
of being misguiding.
So destructive in my mentality, using and abusing everything I could get my hands on,
from the bottom of the jar, to the top of the jar. Most nights, were blurred vision,
slurred speech, new freaks, old freaks, dumb freaks, smart freaks, maybe caught an
occasional geek freak. Selfish, overpowering, but not in the sense of taking, persuasive,
so convincing, “hell“, sometimes I believed it myself. A fresh cut mold for everyone,
liven life just having fun, unknown to anyone. Then comes along someone that knows,
immediately throwing salt in the game and letting everyone know. Backtracking and
fabricating, seeming like the easiest why out, I was open like a book, that couldn’t be
closed, extremely exposed by the lies I had told. Defensive in nature is what I turned to,
quick to blame, but sure to lose but what an opportunity for them to prove what I had
really been up to. Naturally proud and confident in swag, I tried to stand strong, but
other players stood and laughed, cause they knew I was about to crash. And crash I did,
as hard as I could fall, face first, just like belly flopping in a pool, when your not in
control, I’ve been pushed. Starting to question myself, “Am I being true”, probably not to
myself or anyone else. I’ve been crumbling inside, far from being right, I might need a
moment in time to collect my thoughts. Convinced this is the end of my misguided thoughts
and the selfish ways, in which I used to walk and talk. Just the end of another bad chapter.
Written by: thegoldenpython aka. Wilfordjy
Before the mirror he stood and gazed, another soul sent to their grave, he needed time to
contemplate, at whose hand had they met their fate?
Is there an evil that in him thrives, urging that he takes more lives, he stands and looks
now at his face, reflecting back his own self hate.
The time had come for him to converse, with this inner demon for whom he worked, he takes
a breath, exhales slow, there's answers that he needs to know.
Determined now he starts to ask, the information that he lacked, how else could he get
through this night, but what if he's wrong, no demons fight?
What if the hand upon the blade, was his own hand that yielded pain, what if it was his
own intent, his mind tortured not by devilment, he knew he had to venture further, was he
truly capable of murder?
Seeking truth, accept no less, he asks his inner self to now confess,
"From the furthest corner bound to hell, upon the depths I cast this spell, I ask for
vision so I may see, the demon who posse-th me"
He stood transfixed upon the glass, as a voice answered back,
"My friend your doing very well, there's a place for you with me in hell, what questions
of me do you seek? come, come speak up, it's just you and me"
Unsettled by this demons words, his speech was shaky, somewhat slurred, he found the
courage to pursue, the answers that this demon knew.
"When in the midst of violent rage, you write the script upon my page, you control my
inner will, you push my desire for blood fuelled kills, do you admit to this no less,
speak to me demon, do you confess?"
Urgently he needed answers, this demon feeds upon him like a cancer,
"You would like that would'nt you, that it was me who killed, it was not you, to feel
relief, exoneration, escape the punishment of your own damnation,the truth you seek won't
set you free, the murderer was never me"
In a mist of temper he destroyed the mirror, as shards of glass dispersed and shimmered,
he took a blade whilst in this mist ,and in desperation,sliced his wrists,
as he fell upon the floor, he knew that he would Kill no more, the peace he sought he
found at last, from the cold slash of the broken glass,finally he was free from his sin,
as life left his body, and death moved in!
You know if the truth be really heard
Baby I did not mean to get you upset
I don't know why it suddenly occurred
Maybe last few days I have not slept
You know if the truth be really heard
it's like i did not want to walk away
but you always have the last word
Why could we not meet half way
You know if the truth be really heard
You are always turning those tables
Words left unspoken at times slurred
Now again telling one of your fables
You know if the truth be really told
I did come back round to apologise
Give a hug as you I so wanted to hold
I wanted so much to dry your eyes
You know If the truth be really told
I don't know what your feeling inside
As at times your blowing hot and cold
I go on home and then nurse my pride
You know If the truth be really told
It feels like were always competing
I choose silver though you still gold
Again history we're just repeating
I
================================================
THIS WAS A IDEA I HAD A GOOD FEW YEARS AGO THIS IS BASED
NOT JUST ON MY EX BUT ALSO CURENT FRIEND I AM SEEING
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AND BECAUSE RECENTLY GETTING INTOUTCH WITH EX OVER CHILD
HAS LEFT MY HEAD ALL OVER THE PLACE DONT KNOW WHERE I WAS
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GOING WITH THIS I GUESS INSPIERD BY CURENT AND PAST EVENTS BUT
ALSO PREVIOUS POEMS DEVIOUS HER NAME AND WEB OD=F DECIET
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WRITTEN BY MYSELF
DAVIDSCOTT JUNE JULY 2014
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TRUTH BE HEARD OR TRUTH BE TOLD
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
I watch as she sleeps,
the gentle rise and fall of her chest
making sure her breathing is rhythmic
Thoughts take me back years ago
when we were playmates ~sisters
separated by little more than a year.
A tear escapes my eyes. I wipe it away
for if she wakes and sees me crying,
her tears will flow again.
My sister, my best friend
Always vibrant and busy with life
Taking care of everyone
and putting her needs last.
As quickly as a breath was taken
she'd had a stroke
and when she woke
her life had been turned
upside down, mouth drooping
as if she were wearing a frown.
My heart grieves silently
Bleeding with pain I cannot show
for I'll not let her know my fears~
My tears hidden,
I replace them with a smile
and if she would look into my eyes,
she'd know. She'd know my anguish.
Her needs are many~
Slurred speech, limp left arm
Fran, who is gifted with empathy
for the plights of others.
Now, she fights to get her life back.
She sobs when friends call
and I have to say, "She's just emotional."
Damn it! I would be, too!
I tell her it's okay and smile~
Sometimes, she smiles back at me
Sometimes, she turns her head away
We talk about childhood days
and when a haze fills her eyes,
I talk about something silly~
desperate to give her hope.
A blood clot broke free from her brain
at least it had the decency
not to enter her heart.
Distraught, of course she is
but my sister is a fighter
and we work together, day and night
to help her hand grip mine tighter.
It's 4 am, and by the night light
I look at her face, wrinkle free
but only when she's asleep.
I pray to God while I weep,
"Please give her the life she knew."
There's little more I can do
except to be her big sister.
She'll get through this hard time
with help from family and friends
Those who love her as much
as she loves all of us.
We talk about it being another hurdle
she'll get over, but this one...
this one is physical, a literal mountain
that she must climb, but not alone.
There are goals to set and reach
and each step she takes strengthens her will
to be as independent as she used to be.
I sit here, watching her as she sleeps
and only then do I allow my tears to fall.
Every drop won't be enough
to bribe a heart that feels so much.
With every well dried to the bone
I forget your face and can't find home.
You warm my blood you'd be my crutch
Just take her place with care or such.
Like rubbing salt into a wound
I pour the fire from its tomb.
and now my chances just seem slim
As she watched this curse suck me right in
Your weightless lips pressed to my head.
pushed me closer to my edge.
You filled me up then drank me down.
Half full of hope for a second round.
Unscrew the skull to find your prize
Then squeeze my neck and hang me dry.
Confide your troubles in me my friend.
These walls will never speak again.
A sweetheart bittered by your taste.
Its all your fault but i won't waste.
You're loyalty to a trusted friend
who drags you to the rivers edge
then binds the boulder around your feet
and watches as you sink beneath.
To breathe your oath of self destruction
the light is bent, your in too deep.
So wield the sword you left behind
and cut the shackles, restraints, and binds.
To reach the surface and find your breath
this is not the way one should find death.
Drop the glass, for hell it sent
Or you'll drown in all that will ferment.
Soothe the fire on your tongue
or forever will your soul be numb.
Soothing are the notes you hear
when desperation's drawing near.
So strum a chord, or hum a tune
for music is what humbles you.
A racing mess, concealed in glass,
Impulsive thoughts on which we crash.
Intoxicate me, as sorrow drowns
You'll kneel before the melting crown.
That exploits your truth, feeling content
then chews your trust without consent.
Repulsive, wholesome, honest actions
multiplied by numerous factors.
Speaking without consideration
the vulnerable target for humiliation.
The symptoms sounding too cliche
ounce for ounce, it seems risque
but I accept your challenge, yet another day.
The road to freedom, faint and blurred
you ask for help, but your words are slurred.
I won't let you fool me friend.
I've fooled myself time and again.
No need to let her see me so.
Without you i would never know
what's its like to want or envy
you'll ruin all life puts before me.
I bid goodnight to an empty shelf
tomorrow anew, bring me my hell.
The Sounds of Silence
By: Simon & Garfunkle
Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a streetlamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
No one dare
Disturb the sound of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said “The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ciERzSFRwzk
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With a Little Salt and Lime
Hello Jose my old friend
I've come to guzzle you again
The party started before afternoon
I started sipping on you far too soon
My last SENTENCE I fear was slightly slurred
(Vision blurred)
Forgot to EEEET----my breakfast
They look with pity upon me
'Can't hold his liquor', they agree
Now I'm weaving when I try to walk
Senseless babble when I try to talk
Then I feel the NEEEED to flee to an old-oak-tree
(To heave and pee)
but cannot LOOOZE---- my breakfast
Did not like his tone at all
Got myself into a brawl
I quickly put him in his rightful place
Broke his knuckles with my pretty face
Shoulda’ had my OOOATS but didn't so alas!
(I kiss the grass)
and now my ASSSS----is breakfast
In the morning I awake
moaning with a bad headache
Bright-sun glaring through the window pane
I whine and whimper in my wretched pain
In the next room a TV-is-blaring
and screams in my pounding-ear
(No thank you dear)
Believe I'll PASS on----breakfast
*Moral of the story: Never drink before noon OR on an empty stomach...
In an irrevocable warp speed instant,
my head collided into the likeness of drying tar,
absorbing each horrid layer of concrete.
That pitch-black, tacky substance covered my body,
so that I was trapped, sightless, into immobility.
With pounding pain, like a full force baseball bat swing
to the skull, like a head cold amplified myriad times,
my brain screamed for release
inside walls of perpetual pressure,
with nerve spasms massively extending
beyond the central blow.
The stench of blood-covered latex gloves
and hand sanitizer attempting to halt disease,
had me guessing that I was in a medical facility.
I could taste metal, as if I was becoming part machine,
conforming to constant monitor beeps.
Morphine drips slipped me into hallucinations,
or maybe just distressing dreams.
My opaque mind tingled for air, breath gasping
like an incessant snore, mouth slightly ajar.
I imagined drools somewhere, but felt no dampness.
Numbness soon overcame most pain,
setting me into a panic of possible lost limbs,
lost neck, lost head.
Dread of the unknown
cast me into a guarded sensation of
always falling, anticipating the jarring end.
Unable to scratch intermittent itches
or ask for assistance, I twitched inwardly,
trapped in a corridor of horrors,
with siren flashes passing through the darkness,
running for a door or window to open,
or if locked, to kick vigorously
through this mind prison.
There are no doors. There are no windows.
Only echoed pounding of
familiar voices floating
surrounded me.
I could smell my wife's Tea Rose perfume
upon approach, accompanied by
my three mostly grown daughters
with their authentic scent of home.
Some named friends and acquaintances
came at arbitrary times.
Some offered slurred words in somber tones.
Some were simply saturated in silence.
All were drenched with unspeakable grief.
Each loved one's screaming drop of saline
made me cry inside, but I doubt it seeped outwardly.
I longed to reach out to wipe away their liquid sorrow,
but my muscles were limp, each limb
like a redwood tree branch in stagnant air.
Walking down the street
With a fast pace heart beat
Not knowing where I am going
Not knowing what path is ahead of me
Looking in all directions
Not knowing what I am looking for
Bam…it hits me like a brick wall
I turn my head and there is this girl standing about 5’6 tall
Her body glowing in the moonlight
As I look up to the stars and look back at her
She has a smile on her face that is ever so bright
Not knowing what to say
The beauty of this girl has left me speechless
I am like a little kid not knowing what to do at recess
Do I walk past her and say hi under my breathe
Do I give her a head nod so she knows I am looking at her
No no no
I finally build up my courage and approach her
Next thing I knew I woke up and everything was a great big blur
I asked myself
Was I dreaming?
I roll over to get out of bed and there’s a number
So I think why not give it a call
She answers and says hello
Shocked that its really her so my words come out slurred as if I was melting in snow
I ask if we can meet up to see if it’s really the girl of my dreams
She says yes with no hesitation
So as I arrive at this certain location
She comes out the corner
In awe I can’t believe it was really her beauty and all
My legs got weak as if I was about to fall
I took her to lunch and had a ball
Laughing and smiling
I couldn’t believe I was out with a girl of such stature
As we wrap up lunch and begin our sunset walk
My feelings for her are still in utter shock
I begin to open her door with all her feelings
But she slams it in my face
I am thinking to myself she has been hurt
But later she says “I got something to tell you”
Me having a good idea and a pretty good clue
She says she is taken
I replied no you must have me mistaken
You’re the girl of my dreams
Sadly that’s all she will ever be
Have you ever wanted someone in which you can’t touch but only see?
I am so foolish to think a girl like that would ever be into me
I slowly walk myself down to the local store
My feelings are hurt and my heart is heavy as I hit the cold floor
I should have known that there was already love behind her door
© Jeremy Fennell
Losing the Light
by Cheryl Higgins
UNSUPPORTED CODE - with a quote
from J.D.
McClatchy's
three-part poem
"Three Dreams of
Elizabeth
Bishop" UNSUPPORTED CODE
What sold me on the
architect's clever
evening tour
besides designer
lighting and too
many vodka bitters
wasn't this
relentless dawn
scraping every
skylight in
every room, but
chasing you into
this one
where the moon blued
your foot behind the
big chair
wet, still, from
testing the spa in
your cocktail gown.
When you snatched it
back from the pale
light
it was then I
thought I could live
here with you, all
folded against the
west wall and
listening to me
pretend to lose
interest and read
erotic sonnets aloud
to the moon.
Or was it finding a
corner of Cassiopia
from your pillow
unlike any other
from mine?
Did we live in this
place? With this
unsleepable light,
I’m working
before the paper
even hits the door.
Through the sliders
on the redwood deck,
a glass, still,
of ginwater gathers
gnats and acorns
from the last
one-night stand. My
robe wet on the
rail.
I'm wearing yours.
And why did I want
to hurt you one last
time?
When you left I said
leave it the robe's
mine, but it wasn't
not really or why
did I give up my own
to the
ONS and stalk naked,
moody, after I lost
that
first slurred slip
of your name
to the roaring tub.
Your belt trails me
and my coffee.
The robe's too long
for my tastes.
Alien, familiar, it
slides on my skin
not unlike
your more wakeful
nights in and out of
my dreams.
And I thought I had
something of yours
after all
from the pocket, a
letter to me or a
note
declarant or
confessional, either
would do.
What I found was
some acorn caps
and the architect's
designer card.
We'd called from a
pay phone that
night.
I said we'd
forgotten the price.
You said I never
asked.
What we forgot, I
heard a voice
behind me say, was
everything else.
Love will leave us
alone if we let it.
Say the price.
Out on the road,
love winds away in
the dark.
The moon strobes it
through the trees,
the night
follows its own
unlit way.