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Best Poems Written by Satya Tabachnick

Below are the all-time best Satya Tabachnick poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Satya Tabachnick Poem

Just Trying...

So here’s the deal:
I’m completely pissed off, but not really-
Really I’m heartbroken and just trying to breathe through the ache in my chest,
But that really has nothing to do with what’s going on does it. 
This is ridiculous.  I hate it. It’s not something I can just fix.
If I could make him forget just by kissing him stupid I would.
However, this is a bit too raw for that.  
It’s like when your fave song comes on and you’re voice begins to break near the end
 because you’re holding back tears.
Nothing really detracts from that feeling of complete abandon.  That’s true for love on both 
ends. 
Passion when you’re together, battering desperate aching when you’re not.

Now, I enjoy pain. I enjoy the sharp, sweet edge. 
I don’t enjoy this mind numbing pounding.  Like my body is being pulled inside out. 
There is no tearing, no ripping, no cutting, no sharp.  Just dull, stretching emptiness.
There is no joy in that. 
Only the true masochist in me finds something in this.
I don’t like dwelling on that part of me.
I’d rather be sharp. Like when you’re cut by a knife so sharp that it takes a minute for your 
body to register it as pain. 
Sharp. Sweet. Sinfully simple. 
Love.

This isn’t what I signed up for. But then, what is?
I love you.
That doesn’t really matter.
Does it.

Details | Satya Tabachnick Poem

Frozen

As I walk through the city
in the dead of winter,

(on the way home she is giddy
for the world has taken her)

The ice and the snow and the sleet and the hail
cling to my skin, but I cannot care.

(all that you see is an angel of ice,
her hair covered in snow, you try rolling the dice)

A boy walks towards me, but I barely see.
He starts to talk, I just take out my key.

(She offers a piece of lavender sweet,
then she turns away going on down the street)

He may not understand the gift that I've given him.
I don't know why, it's not worth much...my light is so dim.

(As the snow swirls around her you hear a small sound,
you blink and she's gone, never to be found)

I left him my heart and my soul, so frozen,
now I will return when the earth is golden.
The winter of my life will someday end,
but until that happens, I do have a friend.

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Cancer

Caring
Antagonizing
Naturally provoking insanity
Creatively tieing people in knots
Eagerly searching for luck and loves
Randomly laughing at butterflys and bees

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Bleeding Addiction

I speak......the silence unmaking my words,

for here the shade of broken time does dwell.

I scream and fight to make cuts with these cords

that bind me closer than the ghosts to hell.


From Concrete illusions, soft Escape,

the edge of pain sharpening my Pleasure,

my joy Reality did shake,

Shattering......that glass glazed Measure,

my life-like dreams within its shape.


For what can make this place of joy, of deathly terror end?

The silky cuts, the bloody scrapes, the temp'ring torture bends

this sweet fulfilling agony...the sorrow of my soul,

does taunt my honor heedlessly, but tell me Not, I Know.


For only with this torture can my body freely breathe,

only this enticing pain can make my spirit free.

So tell me not that this is wrong for how can it not be?

this Loving Torment of my soul will Never let me be.

Details | Satya Tabachnick Poem

Summers In Ashland

ever feel you're falling,
falling through the sky?
it's like flying but faster, less controlled.
how do you fight the accelerating, 
excruciating, 
exclaiming 
excitement?

it's water on parched land in the middle of summer.
it's the heat so dry that it caresses you, enveloping you in its dizzying embrace.
it's the grass- brown and dry but soft as the hint of a breathe against your face.
the mountains holding you as part of the earth, grounding your sensuality in strength not just 
passion.
this is the sensation of falling-

into the land
into the sky...

how can you fight this?

it's home.

it's the place of the first kiss, 
and the second, 
and the third.

it's the place of life-giving, life-sharing.


Immersed in taste and touch and tranquil,
furiously amazing life I laugh.
For this is summer in all its quiet power
and here I heal for a season of change to come.

Details | Satya Tabachnick Poem

Illusions

Light, that sweetest of metaphors,
Given to the pain of life when times are fallen,
To stem the bleeding.

Dark, the place of stone and steel,
Giving nothing, taking nothing,
Chaos is near.

Guilt, the bane of my existence,
Not my guilt, but that place where love goes to starve,
Drifting through the Mind. (a petal in the darkness)

Joy, gifting all with its merest Grace,
Living tall, writing life,
Filling bodies.

Damnation, 
The word that describes,
I love you. (I Hate You)

Cliché, sickeningly sappy,
Yet still integral,
To living.

Truth.

Details | Satya Tabachnick Poem

Slowly Shaking, Quaking, Making...

As I look up, I wake up,
I hear sudden sound
The voices they call me
When no one’s around

I stand here and listen
As softly they speak
For everyone’s laughing 
At something unique

I don’t quite know
As I restlessly gape
How you can take it
That cruel stricken face

I love you it says
As we wait undisturbed
I miss you and hate you
And fake you it serves

What do you do when love comes unaware?
What can you do except tremble with...
Why do you quake?
Fear or excitement, breath or flame?

Here is the door
Here are the people
Open my heart
And see how it… 
Bleeds, Burns, Craves, Yearns.

Life.
Hope.
Honor.
Lust.
Licking blood, as our fate turns to dust.

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Please

What happens when you can't think,
and you're constantly in a fog? 
You know the world is spinning, 
but without you 'cause you're lost.

Life flys by and the reason escapes you.
What can one do when confusion abounds?
Letting go gets you no where and nothing to do.
While you try to hide that you're alone in the crowd.

What do you think when the world's untranslateable?

"Please let me out of this box."

That is all I want to say when my brain slows down,
and I don't understand what I'm saying.
Let me out, I scream, I just want to see
what everyone keeps on portraying.

What do I articulate when my memory and logic are gone?
All I can do is create this poem as a plea, to someone,
to tell me what's wrong. 

"Please let me out of this box."

Details | Satya Tabachnick Poem

Free Fall

I don't know why i always manage to hurt myself on nights like this 
The pain lacks thought and doubt perhaps that's it
(and people don't think i'm a massachist)
it's dull and aching, sharp and tight
it lets me fall asleep at night
 
how do i fall so frequently?
like painting, strokes of crimson
steal my breath
even as i try to leave the line between numb and emotionally dead
 
just please explain to me
how words and touch seem linked by need
how striking stark innocent blood leaves not my wrists 
only my heart
 
sometimes it's all i can do to run towards touch
an anchor
a gateway 
keeping me from tripping across the lines 
 
no fear, just pain, joy, love, heart ripping grief
most of it not mine but always with that piece of me that longs to live extremes
scream for the joy of life and song,
cut to the quick of my being with sharpest knife of pain.
 
too bad i'm not there.
it only drowns me on late nights with too much thought and not enough emotion
i start going numb
so stop it from spreading
this is how

Details | Satya Tabachnick Poem

Not Quite Free

This is what you mean to me

My horrifying agony

I try to let you leave me be

But all I see is Liberty



In face and name you look the part

Beautiful and cold as thought

Though how your heat you do explain

I know not, for here I’m sane



The heaviness of lying here

beplagued by doubts (too close, too near)

Has left me able to do naught

But stare at all that I have lost



For the thing that only we two know

Gives my solitude and snow

That thing that figures me a fool

For loving that which kills my soul



So now I run to save my faith

In beauty of a shining place

As the partner to my love

Chances flying, wings the dove.



But now i dare not follow you

The one who killed to see me true

if only now to conquer me

and steal from me my honesty