Onerios13• Show poetry

Avoid the flourish. Do not be afraid to be weak. Do not be ashamed to be tired. You look good when you're tired. You look like you could go on forever. - Lenoard Cohen (Thanks to sleepysmiles3 for having that up on her page...)


A Special poem by my favorite DemonChilde and one of AP's Elite poets/favorites just rob (who wrote this amazing tribute in a comment...yeah, in a COMMENT...that's just how talented he really is!):

I remember -

colder than winter, no
rumor of spring
but somehow
the earthbound warbler
sings

later than midnight, too
early for mourning's
frost, the missing lark
is never really
lost

(Rob, Teresa told me she adored this...and tells me to say thank you...)


"The best poetry has its roots in the subconscious to a great degree. Youth, naivety, reliance on instinct more than learning and method, a sense of freedom and play, even trust in randomness, is necessary to the making of a poem." - Mary Swenson (Quote stolen from pania's page. This is what poetry is to me. )


This is from my darlin' Jane (vaseline)...and her words are all that needs to be said



To Women I Never Knew

We are too sensitive
like newborn babies
who could literally wilt
with a cold breeze.
Our skin is no longer leather,
especially mine.


I slap myself around
with the same brown gloves
you gave me years ago,
long before we met.
Its not impossible,
but I knew her,
I knew your cousin,
and soon enough
we will have cheese together,
and write impossible poetry
on the banks of Las Vegas.


It does nothing for me
nothing at all
i see my mother sitting in velvet moments
she looks like a child,
but she grew crooked
and her heart is like sand.
the feelings are in grains
but i am sure
i can patch it up
into clear glass.

he hurt you
and said words which were like
spit upon gods face
and fire upon Teresa's,
and like a broken clock
he is unable to complete the task.
i look towards him
for something exact
and i am received
with lies and chipped words.
they have cutting edges,
but so do we.
believe me when i say i love you
and believe me when i tell you
about cheese and poetry ma'am;
because i could never lie to you.

- Vaseline



I want to thank Gill (NurseChilly) for remembering and reminding me just how brilliant Teresa was. You are indeed a friend beyond compare and I hope everyone who reads my cousin's works will thank you as well...


And a HUGE thank you to -BlackKnight- for helping me resize and make possible for her beauty to be seen by all...you are a fresh barrel of peaches, sir!



THE BIG UGLY


The big ugly stares at me
blankly
there is no end
and what for I ask
even I know no answer
the big ugly smiles
I only wrestle up a mangy mother
and that’s all I have become these days.
I KNOW THE END IS NEAR
oh don’t we all.
The big ugly gives me breath.
I barely hold on.
Its like that wild ride and the roller coaster goes on and on.
I push on to the reality that is sinking to afirm me.
What have you to ask of me?
What I have to give you?
It all becomes between the lines.
It all becomes true instability.
And I am on the verge of letting go.

Teresa Kuykendall
2/17/04



DEAD MOUTH


Dead mouth
dead face
what you say truly has no relevance to me
what comes out pours fourth lies
hypocrisy
at its finest
I love to hear you laugh the chills
tingle my insides
I live to hear you smile
the scraping of my bones brings a tear to my eye
the suicidal thought gives me the pleasure I need to endure.
The ball of wretchedness keeps me alive.
You melt my pain
so well.
It has became automatic.
We are star crossed.
We are like lads.
And we know that in time it all goes away.

Teresa Kuykendall
2/05




Admission

when i have ripened
into the attained stage of my finale
i will have arrived.
i can then cease
to gnaw
at the unremitting bone.
these restless jaws
are grinding
at the calcified ruins-
and my hair is turning yellow
from the sickness.
my inward fury
maneuvers this misguided voyage.
‘This ship’s set sea!’
i am the habitual deck hand.
pieced
together
erratically.
that has become realism in its undeniable form.
i have perfected recognizing
this injustice.
it is interminable.
it is incapable
of loving me.
of trusting me.
i have flown into this plight
of deliberate ignorance.
who can bring me back?
i have searched the eyes
of the willing and the wanted.
i have returned disillusioned.
we have pushed through this gate
like escaping orphans
and we are running as though
the hot coals are incinerating our molten soles.
i have dreamed of fame.
i have sung all the songs
that foreordained my promised lovenest.
i discount the ways.
i have never laughed so hard
at the joke that i have become.
and the idea of existence
has never been so hard to keep.

Teresa Kuykendall
9/2004.




Babylon

I am addicted to life
I am addicted to death
I hold the answer in my hand
somewhere
the desire to be between lies
somewhere
to lie a thousand times is where I exist.
Lying among broken pieces and and being broken
like a harlot after the kill
knowing she used up her last favor
and I am no longer a clean thing.
I am between life and death.
And all the screams are the silent ones
rocking my head.
Aimless and motionless a delicate mess.
So betrayed yet so able to move for the sake of moving.
I fall into the habitual sleep
goodnight baby.

Teresa Kuykendall







Teresa Lillian Foung Kuykendall

1976 - 2005



...i still miss you...





Many thanks and many more hugs to Richard (MuddyKing) for being the best collab partner a hack poet like me could ever have.

Thank you so very much for being my hero and the father to my 'love-childrens'.










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