Tag: grip

Fragments of Meaning

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Take my visual fragments
And place them at the foot
Of an old chedi,
For I don’t want my queues
To scatter my own thoughts
Like a back alley
I’ve stood for too long admiring.

Take my meaning
And lessen it’s grip
For it crawls
And has not yet learned
The intricacies of
Falling and getting up,
Though these scuffed knees
Have surely tried
Against the pain.

Hold my hand and remember
That I’m not here for a long time,
This shall become dust
And my subscriptions shall expire
Like organics back to earth,
Like music into silence
For it is without question
That life surely begets death.

Fragments of Meaning by Ned Tobin

Grace (day 3037)

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Cash was at the bottom of the barrel
Wading through a misty mess
Growling at the moon.
Sunk my teeth into what became
Two giant hands, leathery skin,
Forcing me to hold onto
A metal bar that froze my grip
That I had only just begun
To listen to, inside voice
As bubbles floated
In infinite grace.

Grip (day 2891)

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I want to rain down
Like the Gods I’ve always admired
Spiral my madness
Deeper into Mortal Souls
And laugh as Time
Emits no stress on my psyche
And lays barren
No emotions I have once had
For it is my breath
That drives me forward
Undescribeably powerful
And taken by a grip.

Ribs Clutching Veins (day 2332)

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Love turned to ice
Torn from it’s cave
Ribs clutching veins
Cavernous thoughts
Soiled floor
No longer beating
Lay the heart
Of the North Sea Queen
Upon her nightstand
Of blackest of stones.

Alone she sat
Eyes to the heavens
An empty void
Collapsing around her
In a symphony
Of North Sea Wind
Finding hollows
Within the North Sea Castle
Reminding all lovers
To beware
Icy grips of torture
Lay upon the brow;
Deep winter’s birth.

One by one
Suitors came bundled
Inexperienced, undermanned,
Incapable of holding
Court with frost
Who all left lifeless,
Vague and soulless,
Unable to escape
That same grip
Which tore thy love
– Ribs clutching veins.

North Sea Queen V by Doreen Broers
North Sea Queen V by Doreen Broers (ig)

Tobacco Pipe Dreams (day 2141)

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I carried your tobacco pipe
Like a diamond on my mind,
Two puffs and a closed grip
Ricochet all security
Through the back door:
Creak creak.

And we pass it on
As night songs
From a holy tent with a view
That lisps night skies
Through dreams of a far off land
Whispering endlessly.

But hold me, hold on
Hold the flowers
Growing here so wild
In the palm of your hand
Until it stains your closed grip
The colour of my dream.

Tobacco Pipe Dreams by Ned Tobin

Licked Bones (day 1503)

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You clawed my earth with your sharpened talons,
Piercing skin and lapping this dripping blood.
I wasn’t a victim, no, I was the victor!
Not a gram spoiling as bones were licked like molasses;
Surviving and thriving. Delving.
Gripping tight, and expecting evermore.