Submissions by 3ampoems (Celine Belli)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Writer, Sound Engineer, Musician, Artist, Lover.
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
30th Sep 2014 11:02pm
30th Sep 2014 11:02pm
of patience, of urge
written before "these hands"
----------------------------
courage, take me where the deepest fears linger,
teach me to swim to shore.
there are eyes that glisten with the yearn
for hope,
and there are those that look
away from where the light refracts.
my days are towed,
heavy and testing on the pull of my shoulders,
bearing the weight of expired minds behind heavy duty locks.
there are tears flowing from a broken pipe
behind the wallpaper,
rust and pressure wearing it down;
it will not be long now
until...
----------------------------
courage, take me where the deepest fears linger,
teach me to swim to shore.
there are eyes that glisten with the yearn
for hope,
and there are those that look
away from where the light refracts.
my days are towed,
heavy and testing on the pull of my shoulders,
bearing the weight of expired minds behind heavy duty locks.
there are tears flowing from a broken pipe
behind the wallpaper,
rust and pressure wearing it down;
it will not be long now
until...
636 reads
3 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
29th Sep 2014 1:20am
29th Sep 2014 1:20am
these hands
there are changes in the weather
that lives in your eyes; we will experience
a high chance of storm
but still,
the sun will shine.
the sun will shine where you soul has hidden away from.
these hands were your shelter
delicate, but firm
the lines told you stories of all you could live for,
and you’d grown to learn them like the map of our universe.
now you have gone astray,
like a leaf amidst the wind, spiralling out of reach,
and i only hope you will not forget the contours of these fingers,
these cuticles that don’t quite fit...
that lives in your eyes; we will experience
a high chance of storm
but still,
the sun will shine.
the sun will shine where you soul has hidden away from.
these hands were your shelter
delicate, but firm
the lines told you stories of all you could live for,
and you’d grown to learn them like the map of our universe.
now you have gone astray,
like a leaf amidst the wind, spiralling out of reach,
and i only hope you will not forget the contours of these fingers,
these cuticles that don’t quite fit...
886 reads
9 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Sep 2014 9:06pm
14th Sep 2014 9:06pm
notes for the beaten
the dust settles,
in the stagnant veins of your soul
and soon the spiders will
leave their webs
to find new home - then what will be left of you?
on a night like this,
i stand with my feet buried in the moist brown of the earth
and embrace the logic
that quicksand is merely an aid for the people who have given up
to disappear is a very easy achievement.
i take a step forward
and break the hold binding me to the grasp of the ground,
to disappear is a very easy achievement,
but what do i really achieve,
if...
in the stagnant veins of your soul
and soon the spiders will
leave their webs
to find new home - then what will be left of you?
on a night like this,
i stand with my feet buried in the moist brown of the earth
and embrace the logic
that quicksand is merely an aid for the people who have given up
to disappear is a very easy achievement.
i take a step forward
and break the hold binding me to the grasp of the ground,
to disappear is a very easy achievement,
but what do i really achieve,
if...
766 reads
8 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
4th Jun 2014 00:13am
4th Jun 2014 00:13am
the rain won't touch you.
it is tender,
the traces of you that live in
the sheets, the door knobs,
the curve of my neck and
the sprinkle of sugar spilt
on the kitchen top
as you rushed to make a brew
because you have no time to waste
in your clockwork life.
some days i will find traces of you,
in the dent of our couch,
when all is still,
and you are in the moment,
with me,
caressing each second with
pure, aching gentleness.
on days when the sky is
a tad bit too grey, my heart will sink
with your mood,
and i find myself framing the...
the traces of you that live in
the sheets, the door knobs,
the curve of my neck and
the sprinkle of sugar spilt
on the kitchen top
as you rushed to make a brew
because you have no time to waste
in your clockwork life.
some days i will find traces of you,
in the dent of our couch,
when all is still,
and you are in the moment,
with me,
caressing each second with
pure, aching gentleness.
on days when the sky is
a tad bit too grey, my heart will sink
with your mood,
and i find myself framing the...
921 reads
16 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
26th May 2014 11:48pm
26th May 2014 11:48pm
evil never will.
i.
evil is lying face down
in a tired mess
ready to say my goodbyes
to everybody i momentarily forgot about
because of a poor excuse of a man
who loved with his hands
and the sharp of his knees
who truly cared, he promised,
under the wretched verbal torture.
evil is looking into a mother's eyes,
and seeing all the juxtapositions
of what she has taught me growing up
and what she truly sees
in the ugliness of her own world that she
plasters over reality
like wallpaper.
evil is the days of books...
evil is lying face down
in a tired mess
ready to say my goodbyes
to everybody i momentarily forgot about
because of a poor excuse of a man
who loved with his hands
and the sharp of his knees
who truly cared, he promised,
under the wretched verbal torture.
evil is looking into a mother's eyes,
and seeing all the juxtapositions
of what she has taught me growing up
and what she truly sees
in the ugliness of her own world that she
plasters over reality
like wallpaper.
evil is the days of books...
779 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
21st May 2014 2:20pm
21st May 2014 2:20pm
contours.
The dull ache pulsates in my rib
growing with sensate reminiscence
of a time when disillusion washed over
like chlorine on my mind,
and he was incomprehensibly perfect;
of a time when he loomed over me
like a storm, with lightning fists
and thunder words.
he was the twister of reality
a king of deceit,
his nectarine heart was in fact,
rotting with unsoot decay under the mask of red.
and i was his jester,
the fool who was forever enterprising
to his oppressive wants,
because i was afraid of...
growing with sensate reminiscence
of a time when disillusion washed over
like chlorine on my mind,
and he was incomprehensibly perfect;
of a time when he loomed over me
like a storm, with lightning fists
and thunder words.
he was the twister of reality
a king of deceit,
his nectarine heart was in fact,
rotting with unsoot decay under the mask of red.
and i was his jester,
the fool who was forever enterprising
to his oppressive wants,
because i was afraid of...
875 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
20th Apr 2014 9:03pm
20th Apr 2014 9:03pm
to a rock; you are diamond.
you used to be my hero.
maybe you still are,
when the days are violet and
i laugh at the way you used to dance
around the living room to Estrellida
and talk to the fishes; when the tears i drop
are not for you.
that is when you are still my hero.
it is appalling,
the way i have stopped
plucking out your grey hairs,
instead i cannot bear to look at them.
the way i have stopped getting your crude jokes
because the crude words have
sunken in and etched themselves
onto my skin when i was many times
their victim on the...
maybe you still are,
when the days are violet and
i laugh at the way you used to dance
around the living room to Estrellida
and talk to the fishes; when the tears i drop
are not for you.
that is when you are still my hero.
it is appalling,
the way i have stopped
plucking out your grey hairs,
instead i cannot bear to look at them.
the way i have stopped getting your crude jokes
because the crude words have
sunken in and etched themselves
onto my skin when i was many times
their victim on the...
904 reads
11 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
18th Apr 2014 7:15pm
18th Apr 2014 7:15pm
through the walls
it is a new kind of sadness
i carry with me,
like the overused plastic bags that have seen
enough runs to the shops i so adamantly try to keep;
it is not heavyweight or bulky
but crunched up and sharp, slowly expanding with
the weight i stretch it into each day.
it is a new kind of sadness
that finds me in bed, wide-eyed and struggling
with cold toes and incorrigible energies
sifting into the spaces of my centre,
catching me off guard.
it finds me calculating the meaning of happiness,
wondering where the equation...
i carry with me,
like the overused plastic bags that have seen
enough runs to the shops i so adamantly try to keep;
it is not heavyweight or bulky
but crunched up and sharp, slowly expanding with
the weight i stretch it into each day.
it is a new kind of sadness
that finds me in bed, wide-eyed and struggling
with cold toes and incorrigible energies
sifting into the spaces of my centre,
catching me off guard.
it finds me calculating the meaning of happiness,
wondering where the equation...
1005 reads
5 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
31st Mar 2014 00:36am
31st Mar 2014 00:36am
her day.
today, i miss you
not for your significance worth celebrating
but the outcome of today filled with
insignificance,
where you are hiding in the dark
and i cannot reach you.
i did not reach you,
and though there is a deliberate motif
in this new reluctance,
i refuse to feel guilty anymore
for being too exhausted to try
because no guilt or regret
can make the dim light surrounding you
shine any brighter.
but it does not stop the sadness from washing in.
it is a reality i have to learn
to come to terms with;
this...
not for your significance worth celebrating
but the outcome of today filled with
insignificance,
where you are hiding in the dark
and i cannot reach you.
i did not reach you,
and though there is a deliberate motif
in this new reluctance,
i refuse to feel guilty anymore
for being too exhausted to try
because no guilt or regret
can make the dim light surrounding you
shine any brighter.
but it does not stop the sadness from washing in.
it is a reality i have to learn
to come to terms with;
this...
805 reads
7 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
25th Mar 2014 2:21am
25th Mar 2014 2:21am
in eternal embrace
this dent is the result.
it is the effect from endless churning and
unmindful chaos in dark spaces of my choices.
it whispers to me the weight of the thoughts i aimed so
carelessly towards a particular point
in the core of my being,
now shaped to carry and sag;
it whispered so painfully i stopped
and finally listened.
the dent is the result of my self-betrayal
and urges me to push it
outwards
and release.
release.
there are many ways
to conquer fearlessly,
and bring up a shield against
the waning days...
it is the effect from endless churning and
unmindful chaos in dark spaces of my choices.
it whispers to me the weight of the thoughts i aimed so
carelessly towards a particular point
in the core of my being,
now shaped to carry and sag;
it whispered so painfully i stopped
and finally listened.
the dent is the result of my self-betrayal
and urges me to push it
outwards
and release.
release.
there are many ways
to conquer fearlessly,
and bring up a shield against
the waning days...
984 reads
6 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Feb 2014 2:00am
15th Feb 2014 2:00am
the bleakest of courage is still courage.
so i learn again, to not shed tears in front of the world
for the poorest part of my soul
because i should appreciate the sun
and watch it glow even though
it hurts my eyes, strain my neck and
burn the forefront of my thoughts that are striving to be seen
under the overpowering glare of the big star of hope.
the world is blind to what i have to offer
with my nothing and everything.
it is the beginning of something that i
spend days hiding under the covers from,
and now i watch it open slowly,
then rapidly, growing, ...
for the poorest part of my soul
because i should appreciate the sun
and watch it glow even though
it hurts my eyes, strain my neck and
burn the forefront of my thoughts that are striving to be seen
under the overpowering glare of the big star of hope.
the world is blind to what i have to offer
with my nothing and everything.
it is the beginning of something that i
spend days hiding under the covers from,
and now i watch it open slowly,
then rapidly, growing, ...
995 reads
10 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
12th Feb 2014 3:07am
12th Feb 2014 3:07am
alone with a blanket
another of my alone series
------------------------
nights like these,
thick and deserted, live eyes that are
wide, manic, desperate,
with hands in the pupils, clawing out for a salvation that is
sorely out of sight.
nights like these,
cold and disgraceful, live lips now parched,
lined with dried blood. nights like
these,
where skin off my face reside
dead beneath my frantically bitten nails.
nights like these,
impulsive and raw, lives I,
who lie on floors to etch closer to gravity’s
pull, yearning, pleading for...
------------------------
nights like these,
thick and deserted, live eyes that are
wide, manic, desperate,
with hands in the pupils, clawing out for a salvation that is
sorely out of sight.
nights like these,
cold and disgraceful, live lips now parched,
lined with dried blood. nights like
these,
where skin off my face reside
dead beneath my frantically bitten nails.
nights like these,
impulsive and raw, lives I,
who lie on floors to etch closer to gravity’s
pull, yearning, pleading for...
872 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by 3ampoems (Celine Belli)
