#unstructured poem

[jaspie-oh]

Early Sunday morning thoughts

The slope and curve of your neck and shoulders

The slight, gentle rise and fall of your chest and back as you breathe

The little messy-cute upward curl of hair at the base of your neck

The softness of your skin against mine

The calm stillness and muted snore when you relax and slip back to sleep

The wonderful way that you pull me closer for cuddles

The half-asleep, tender kisses

Sighs, moans and mumbles into smiles of contentment

The natural fall and bounce of your unstyled hair

The way the light gleams off your skin and hair, even your beard.

These are the things

I don’t ever want to forget

Waking up with you in the morning

Reminds me that I found home again. <3

[gosshiku-hime-wa-yami-san]

one of those days, the world is fuzzy. it’s almost nice, this soft sort of sad, almost. when you say you have a mental illness, people without one always assume, assume every sadness is all encompassing, assume you may break down at any moment, assume your coping is you screaming for help. but that isn’t always the case is it? sadness is fluid, it can be all encompassing, or it can be soft. it can swallow you whole, or it can almost blanket you away from the world. not every sadness leads to a breakdown. not every breakdown stems from a sadness. the world is fuzzy, things seem muted and pastel, almost as if nothing is real or matters all that much, in this fake sort of calm sometimes i have to wonder if this is the closest i’ll get to the real thing. this false, pillowy blur on the world, always always tinted with sadness. but it’s a soft sort of sad.

Fuzzy by Beq (me)

[wordsfortheunwise-blog]

Unstructured Poems ( part three- On the road )

Air seeps out

in a robotic sigh

well we pull from a tunnelled

runway out into the well lit

ground worn city.

the side walks used by torn sneakers and

the dragging cuffs of jeans.

Brown and red brick amongst the

camouflage of leave-less trees and light golden wheat  

A Bright blue sky, half covered by a white sheet of 

cloud lets light stream through, floating

through the city and reflecting off of windows.

The streets flow with the vibration of cars.

It's beautifully dull

and these are my favourite scars.

[wordsfortheunwise-blog]

Unstructured Poems ( part two- Station waiting )

Fenced seats

and stained tile floors

background music you can't quite make out

the quiet buzzing of waiting

contrasts with the bustle of movement and questions.

The smell of over priced snacks

and the gingling of pocket change

classifieds that no one reads

by a lotto no one wins

it's a transition from coming and going

with a sense of limbo

if you stay stuck to long it will feel eerie

but if you stay for a while

it helps me think clearly

[wordsfortheunwise-blog]

Unstructured Poems ( part one- Midnight Drive )

A dark purple sky fades to light

on a black tree sketched horizon.

Lights pass over periodically

well shadows whisper to each other in the car

Black silhouettes in the front seats

softly speaking.

the headlights of cars behind

Gently line the head rest.

it's warm and when you look out

with glazed eyes all lights

look like

shooting stars