ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel
  • »
  • Books, Literature, and Writing»
  • Poems & Poetry

Rip-Rip-Rip; We Create

Updated on June 19, 2013

Our Creation

Here, Feel My Arm.

Rip, rip and rip

Until there's nothing there
Close your eyes
Place your hand here, on my arm
Do you feel that?
Feel my hair raised

Rip, rip and rip,
Until there's nothing there
Goosebumps freckle my arms.

Rip, rip and rip until there's nothing there
My neck muscles tighten.

It must be those boys
Sandy hair falling in their eyes
Full of gleaming innocence

Rip, rip and rip,
Until there's nothing there.
Moist tongues peeking out.
Foreheads creased in concentration; they look about for inspiration.
My stomach tightens,
My torso forced forward,
Reject, reject, eject.
My strength is gone, I'm depleted.

Rip, rip and rip,
Until howls leave them gasping
I reach- wrap my fingers about your wrist
Here- feel this
Do you feel it? Goosebumps on my skin.
Hush- close your eyes-
Do you hear it?

Rip, rip and rip
Whose cries do we hear?
My neck muscles tighten

It's those boys
Kneeling over in concentration
Staring down in gleaming glory
At the growth of a molted puddle
Do you see it?

Open your eyes
Feathers drinking, turning, screaming of shadows
Wings scattered around them
Wings accounting for countless howls
Saturated darkness peeking through, dripping everywhere.

Rip, rip and rip
Until there's nothing there,
No more fight.
No more flight.
Rip, rip and rip
Until there's nothing there

Hush- do you hear it?
Reject, reject, eject.

Rip, rip and rip
Do you hear them howl?
It's those boys…gleaming cheeks; tears fall
With fists to eyes
For they have died.


    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • PHILLYDREAMER profile image

      Jose Velasquez 4 years ago from Lodi, New Jersey

      I am completely in the dark on this one. Help me out.

    • frankieonfire profile image

      frankieonfire 4 years ago from Eureka, CA

      You move me with your praise and observation. Yes you are absolutely right... every poet loves an audience.. someone to say; My how lovely is your voice; as macabre as it may be. Thanks so much for that. This poem is liberated by you as well as marked by the liberation of my writing style. I wrote this in '05 as I was letting go of venting poetry and creating something new to me experimenting with the more concrete, my voice just beginning to raise above the static of others so that even I could begin to hear it.

      Your energy brings me warm fuzziness as I flutter about the house getting ready for work.

      Friend- take care.. I will visit later the meanderings of thoughts you have left with me.

    • epigramman profile image

      epigramman 4 years ago

      I love 'liberating' new pieces which have sadly gone unnoticed by so many other readers. I strongly believe that every poem or written piece deserves a home and if it's just read by one other person it makes all of the difference in the world. Great writing doesen't have to be popular to the masses but every writer loves an audience of some kind and they love when their older pieces are discovered for the first time too.

      Here, my friend , you are doing something that I yearn and long to see in other writers and that is the ability to do something different with this sometimes tired and boring genre of poe-it-tree (lol) and be brave and daring enough to speak your very own language - that to be is the hallmark of a great writer; of which you are most definitely one.

      Sending good thoughts and energy from lake erie time canada 3:20pm