the sieve and the sand » pain

a rock and a hard place

Julio Chapluzki — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 18:37:54 +0000

when everything
piled together
becomes too much,
what is there to do
but to lock up one’s feelings,
to lock up one’s thoughts,
to do away with one’s humanity
and become something hard
that can’t feel the pain
of a lost love,
of a lost child,
of a lost friend,
gone for good,
for no good reason.

Confession of a habitual offender

Julio Chapluzki — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 00:24:56 +0000

haven’t I done this
many of times before
and yet I never learn,
never improve, instead
choosing to go down
the same old road,
over and over and over again
making a statement
in my selfishness and
watching the pain wash
over her contorting face
struggling to conquer the tears
and remain strong so as
not to be hurt anymore,
never again;
and so I harden a heart
by withholding my own.

No Longer Earthbound

Tucker J. Collins — Sat, 23 Aug 2008 01:52:20 +0000

O the height I wish to aspire to
Impossible unless I require two
To glide, to soar in thoughtful gyres
All land and sky in my empires

cricks are a pain in my kneck

Julio Chapluzki — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 15:16:55 +0000

not much is worse than a crick:
crickling its way all over,
cricking with every movement,
being a cricking pain.

Emptiness?

Tucker J. Collins — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 22:18:40 +0000

The hollow, the hole

The emptiness in my hallowed heart

Has spat out all internal emotion

Creating therefore a lack of incentive medium

To speak the way I feel inside

As I do not know the truth of what may be spoken

Why I hate running

Julio Chapluzki — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 20:37:36 +0000

Calves and Quads
burn with soreness
as I walk down stairs
wishing with each step
that I was in better shape
but not enough to keep running.

Hos-piss

Tucker J. Collins — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 03:24:40 +0000

Hospice
A word with all the powers of a magnet
Drawing things together
Somethings are shunned and wish to be repelled
But they always return
Others are accepted easily
But can never come back
Everything attracted has something in common
Power to express emotions
Love
Pain
Fear
Last wishes- like fire -are warm
But too much fire surrounding one self becomes
The source of more love
The source of more pain
The source of more fear
The smoke becomes a heavy blanket
Smothering its starter
To reduce the burden a stand must be made
One of courage where friends may be hurt
You can piss out the fire
But you cant piss out the pain
Great difficulty lies on the path where you try to be kind and loving
But sacrifices must be made
To live the rest of ones days with only the closest people to their heart.