Simply Poetic

Hello, Tumblr. My name is Sol. I'm just a person striving to better my writing where ever I am. This is my poetry blog. I write mainly Performance Poetry, so most of what you see here will have been written to be spoken. I do write other poems however, mostly freeform, prose, or occasionally a sonnet. If you want to contact me, feel free to send me a message. My main blog (Where I spam things I fancy) - ssaint.tumblr.com My personal blog - solbeingsol.tumblr.com

[meladoodle]

this is my favourite poem

[solspoetry]

This has grown old sir

I just wanted some closure

Not a cold shoulder, or to hold her.

Now shit just hurts,

Deserted no no call back

I will paint these walls black

Screaming how unfair was all that

Until my hands get so stained everybody will know it was me

Paranoia sets in like "it's because they hate me"

I'm breaking, too broken to see

Everyone I used to call friend run laps around me,

They're lives move too fast with the speed,

For me to catch up,

Or catch up with,

I'm fed up,

With being dismissed

Just because I used to be shit,

And maybe I still am

But goddamn

Don't I deserve friends?

After all that we've lived and been through

When we were just kids.

Never think of you as enemy,

But you're clearly not friendly.

[solspoetry]

I am walking a tightrope over someone elses anger, between not explaining something well enough, and over explaining. I've only ever made it two steps without falling.

[solspoetry]

I remember the time when I told you how scared I was, because I had always been too much, and it is the reason I've lost almost everybody in my life, and you told me I would never be too much.

[solspoetry]

Oh what greater hell is this: to love and be unloved in return

[solspoetry]

Evil? Runs in my blood like the drugs, Never been much for redemption and such. Never been big on forgiving for nothing, If you're looking forgiveness you'll get nothing much, I am neck deep in sin and in love with the stuff.

[solspoetry]

Every good story begins with loss

[solspoetry]

I'm a shitty writer.

[solspoetry]

At least you still have me

Sol

[iwanttolivedeliberately-blog]

I felt the pressure Of your hand on my arm Counted the beats of your heart Tasted the cherry of your lips The love in your breath Smelled your coconut hair But I saw the way you looked at him I think saw the way you looked at him Or maybe it was all a dream Maybe this is all a dream

[solspoetry]

Knever Knew You

I loved you since before we met and either of us ever even knew it.

I laid in bed and cried with you for what I thought was only no reason.

I felt and fell with ever falter in the fall of your footstep,

Knever knowing where those steps took place,

I know it came first.

I know you came first.

Even if it isn’t a race.

I fell in love with you well before we ever met.

Well before I ever knew you existed.

Staring out into snowfallen sky wishing I could die,

I knew there was someone else out there who wished it.

Even if I knever knew you by name.

I knew would day you’d come-

You came like a lighting strike into my dead battery

Restartled me from the jump,

I sprang up.

I knew you were the one I hadn’t known for far far too long.

I loved you before we ever knever knew what love is.

I knever knew was love was.

But now I know you.

Now I feel alive again.

Now I have enough.

Now I’ll knever say I knever knew exactly what love was.

Because I know what love is.

Love is more than enough.

[solspoetry]

Mayo

I had mayonnaise the other day and didn't mind it Still not my favorite But not bad. I hate mayonnaise again today. At 6 am. Without trying it. I wonder what that says about me.

[solspoetry]

Miss Demeanor | Lost at Sea

I don’t know if I only made friends with your ghost or if you had already died by the time I said “hello” But I don’t think I want to know. I know I miss you like a long lost relative; but I’ve been dead to my blood-bonds since I walked away from their crucifix. 
I know we share the same shade on ink-stain on our fingertips. Felt the same dull pain on our wrists. Heard the same shouted words, somber music, dead silence, rolled and spliced together until all three sounded exactly the same.
I know we both feel insane.
So I feel like I lost a sister I never had,
And when I read the words you write today,
I wish the world was less cruel.
That we could have known each other in more than chance greetings.
That we could have walked hand in hand through hand-grenades an hell-fire—
That we could have been friends. Instead,
I only felt the ink on the tips of your fingers as our hands brushed in passing,
I saw the scars on your wrists,
Heard the same trilogy of silences being sung and screamed at us both.
And then you were gone.
And I was left holding the hand of your ghost. But I suppose that's just the way it goes. -- So where do we go from here? I have asked myself that question so many times pacing in circles but never taking a single directed step, I know you feel the same so much of the time, I can feel we feel the same flavor of regret with the way we shunt being direct, To avoid feeling shunned feel neglect. Miss Demeanor of Demi-God, I am Misdirectionally Challenged. But I know we can both find our way, Even if we aren't facing the same lack of direction, I know our personal demons don't have their claws in the same place, Mine is digging in my mind I'm just trying to save face, You've got a something on your back and it's clawing at your grace, But we both have more days. We have time even if it isn't on our side, We have enough strength to fight Whether we win it over or beat it back. We are tethered and tied up by our heart strings, I know we've both been praying for a little slack, I've been praying to a demi-god to help me see what I lack, And goddamn you have the demeanor of him, It's why I look at you and see Friend, And I'm starting to think we don't need loose lips nor string to win this battle of tug of war with ourselves. We just need a little more strength. And OH, I've been told it comes with the changing of time the changing of tides. I've been changing alright, But I've still got an ocean of problems and my goal still isn't in sight, And I don't know if I've changed for the better, At least not all of the time, But I am not a shipwreck yet, We haven't hit that underwater rock bottom. Even if we've got splash-back in our lungs, We can still keep ourselves from drowning, Keep moving. My landing is in sight but my sails are full hot air, Are you with me on this voyage? I know we own different ships with different destinations, Both our masts bending under the pressure, I feel broken but we aren't breaking, We can master our natural disasters. I hear the seagulls cry, three times, Oh I know that means the end is near, But not near enough. I can still only see the salt water of this dead sea with its death-beds, But maybe I've just used my foresight as bait and came up empty-handed. There is life under the undercurrent, Even if we're blind to it. We're lost at sea right now it's true, But our landing is close even if it's a crash-course. And I'm gonna S.O.S. you towards the shore-line, Though I'm not sure which shore you're lined up towards. We'll get there, No matter the worm-wood in our boards, We might be moving blindly, but our ships are sea-worthy, So boldly, let's keep moving. In the meantime, (And yes it seems like this time might be the meanest) I'm gonna try to deep-sea fish my sight my life from the depths of the abyss I lost myself in, (I mean it.) If I fail, I'll take these sails and their hot air And try fly-fishing myself to the sky and soar, Balloon and basket made from rotten boat board. Just keep your head above water And you might just find it's not an ocean but the clouds. You're already flying that's why your feet can't find the ground. Look around. Find me, I'll find you, we'll find our way down, We'll find land even if we're crashing, Crashing just gets us there faster, We've just got to last a little longer. Find me, I'll find you, we'll find each other, I'll be fine, you'll be fine, we'll be fine even if we don't find ourselves together. Our journey's aren't always towards home but we'll always be each other's neighbor, Even separate we aren't alone. In any misdirection that we go, Find me, I'll find you, We'll be fine, We'll be fine, We'll be found. - Dedicated to Jackie J.

[solspoetry]

Fixed in Place

Worry like time Fourteen ticking clocks Shaking Hands Hung head on wall Gears ground Crash landed Fixed in place but broken Breaking balance Wobbling with spare seconds Wasted minutes Haunted hours. It started with seventeen clocks Grandfather Giants Taken to tidbits Rebuilt and lifted Time torn out disassembled sifted Put back in place fixed Placed on mounts Minus three Ticking o ff be a t Sloppy seconds later losing one another Another one lacking gear Or just frozen in fear Unable To keep up with time. Time like snapping spring Nerves breaking Hands scraping Sifted sand springs Cog of Machine Broken Hands Watched Time is lost Face twisted in anger or pain Wall listening to tick Twitching corpse Two more then Ten Now One. Alone Face-Lifted Aging All wrong Fixed in place But broken at moving Unable. Time is a m a ch i n e But Broken. Last second lost. Time stops. Fixed in Pl a ce.

[solspoetry]

There's a cat in the trees, Crawlin' like a caterpillar to peek at me from between the leaves. I act like I do not notice, But I fail miserably. When a smile forms with the curve of a long bow about to snap, With just as much tension in it's vanishing vocal chords, Always trying to disappear, And hell, sometimes it works. But there is a cat in the trees, The same ash and oak from the same woods where I gagged and choked, Passed through smoke and sunshine, Sting rays of brilliant white cast more dimly than I care for, fallen beneath the shade. It's been a long time coming, But I found the fork in my road and took everything it could stab me with, With a cat watching from a far, Holding sapphires in it's eyes and bronze bent around it's neck, Until it got as close to beheld as it possibly could get. There is a certain struggle in standing idly by. But you stood up for me, Even if in the shadows, Even if from afar, You stood when I had no strength to carry myself on my back, Much less all these broken dreams around my wrist, And you never carried me, But I never woulda let you, So the most you could do was show me how to live. And goddamnit, I tried to follow on your footsteps like a fish walking on land, Or a fish in the footsteps of a cat in the trees, And I was never the strongest swimmer, But it seems these days I can't even find air to breathe, Like maybe I was born from water, Or maybe I was just born to bleed, But if there is one promise I could ever keep you in, It'd be the one where you told me you'd never leave. But you didn't just leave me-- You left me spinning-standing-dancing in my feet. And I ain't saying it's evolution, But watch this fish fly from the trees, This is not treason. It's just another reason to leave. This isn't a goodbye letter, Just a few phrases I never got to speak. But let me speak my piece, Or at the very least hold it close until I die, So these days I care leas where my head falls, As long as not too much time goes by. Because cats are nocturnal, And I'm just trying to live up, Where it be from lying to standing, Or squirming to the trees, Like a fish outta water in the paws of a pacifist cat-- Please, I don't care what it is, Just take something away from me. -A Fried Fish

[solspoetry]

For The Elephant That Forgot - May 31, 2013

My body is no stranger to the icy waves of satisfaction.

But it seems something other than the moon can conjure up oceans to dance.

At least that's the tale I'd like to believe,

But I swear I've got so many more to tell,

That that one will have to wait for it's place.

Walking in on a life you haven't taken one backward glace toward in years can be powerful.

But I have played with God before.

So don't throw me in with that Lot,

I am no pillar of salt.

But there is a twister in my mouth,

Swing dancin' with my tongue,

There's a marathon in these fingertips,

And they're beggin' me to let them run.

Under street lights.

In the last happy autumn either one of us could remember,

Sifting through these memories like fairy dust,

But,

They were the only thing we had left-- That December.

I want to tell you I can still taste it,

In your words.

That I can smell it like nostalgia seeping through computer screen,

I want so badly to believe I left an impact,

Somewhere,

Somehow,

Be it through love or hate or sorrow or something completely unheard of before.

Especially in poems that were never meant to be shared.

The ones they forced into the spotlight with their ears.

But when I looked at your life with one-third curiosity and two years of memories,

I found nothing that kept my name in it's secret place.

The one with the lights down low but not off,

With nothing sexual about it.

Only words and learning and growing and oh so many cups of coffee.

I've found the only way I can find out a single goddamn thing about myself is by writing.

But I'm writing empty words, these days.

My shoes are a bit muddy now, babe.

But buy back those vowels you never quite got to say.

I no longer need I's or You's and I've completely forgotten how to love, so

If it's all the same to you (it isn't, I know),

I'll keep my ribcage latched inside my torso.

If you find a way to converse with me,

If you still got those famous sneakers worn down by something that seems a lot like the moon,

With the way,

Without try,

It seems to raise the waves of some sort of memory not seen,

Up,

And down,

My spine.

I miss you, old friend.

I hope one day we might meet again.

And I'm really hoping,

This time?

The past can finally pass away.

Because the only thing I've ever wanted from anything,

Was a really good ending.

(P.S. Everything Ends. But I suppose that just means that people do to. There's a whole new me. And there's something new about you, too.)

[solspoetry]

Some Ands, An End, And A But.

And I am in every word spoken.

And I find myself speechless in response.

And the dance continues.

And life moves on.

And I continue.

And I continue to return to the past.

And I continue holding no hopes that it might get better.

And I keep holding out that the present might give me something that proves it doesn't need to.

And I am still not happy.

And I am still not sad.

And...

And nothing that is said

And nothing that is withheld

And nothing at all

And all the nothings couldn't ever keep anything from ending.

But I was hoping they'd end up happy.