Poetry: it’s the annihilation of discouragement
The projection of your inner self
It is my nourishment,
my self-expression,
My correlation of constellations between your sky and mine.
We thrive on its beat
Like the very air that we breathe.
it is what keeps us from defeat,
gives us the strength to stand on our feet.
It enlightens us!
With the beauty of a magnificent spark
With light through the dark!
It is the glisten in your eyes,
it is the glare of despise,
It is eternal hope in disguise,
Let it free!
Let it rise!
Let it see…
That this world…is much more than a prize
It is the beauty within our cries.
It is the beauty found in the skies
So don’t hide in disguise any longer!
Make the ties
intertwine your eyes with mine.
Hear the pleas, see the sighs.
For the sake of our world…
Describe poetry…
Inscribe poetry…
With your very own cries.
Make it yours,
just as it is...
mine.
Dec 2, 2010
Dec 2, 2010 at 10:03 PM UTC
Gaping eyes
breathing the night-cool air.
despite the dark night skies
there is no room for despair.
the time will come
the time when the sun rises
above, and mends the coldness
in your heart.
light will fill the gaping eyes,
to glisten the pupils
amidst the dark lonely night
in the skies
in the gaping eyes.
Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 10:16 PM UTC
Calming sounds of water droplets,
pounding on the floors.
Tiny water droplets running over people,
running over mountains.
Blizzards of powder
whitening the peaks of glorious mountains,
and slowly,
covering the tracks of this violent world.
The tides softening the cliffs up above
evenning the jagged edges.
The jagged edges of humanity
cannot be softened or overcome
unless we realize that united,
like water droplets flowing on the floor,
we can overcome whatever comes,
like the blizzards at the top of the world.
May 12, 2010
May 12, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
Freedom lives.
Freedom dies.
Freedom resides
In the hopeful eyes
Of the masses.
So blind,
So kind,
Its all a matter of time
Before we see
That freedom lies
Where we dare not set our eyes.
Indiscrete,
A ruckus so loud
It speaks before it sees,
It runs before it walks,
and so it falls.
All is in the hands of freedom,
Your life and mine.
Without it we lie
In a catatonic state
Waiting for the food
To land on the plate;
Not living,
Not free,
Loving the near-sighted views
In our eyes,
Knowing…
There is nothing more
To live for,
When freedom dies.
Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 7:26 PM UTC
Falling down the
Twisted fools, pools of them
Just waiting for more of them
Demanding attention, but you don’t
Realize it is pointless that
When in the pools of the fools
You become one of them
Denying the existence of lying
Denying the existence of crying
Erasing the existence of your brain
Not using it, leaving it
Just wasting it.
Destroying it, or letting it
Be controlled by the fools
In the pools…
We are all tools
Building the structure
Of a deceased infrastructure,
Without morals.
Quarrels over land
Designed to rid the world of those who follow,
Follow the cause no god can swallow
Death is rising,
Afraid…
Of losing its role in our lives
When we all just die,
by our own secular hands.
Apr 8, 2010
Apr 8, 2010 at 4:25 PM UTC
The whispering wind blowing in my ear,
bouncing off your voice, which I want to hear.
It distracts me like the cells on my brain discovering a new voice inside my head;
not letting me listen to your soft voice instead.
My eyes receiving the reflecting light
from the objects right in my sight
receiving the glistening light of your eyes,
unleashing an explosion of colors
that only compare to you and I.
The nose on my face gets a whiff of your scent
and like a hound dog on your trail, I find you
but the smells around don’t distract me
like the reflecting light
from your jewel-toned eyes.
Your taste has penetrated my tongue
and with it a satisfying sting
like the sting of an arrow
crusading through my heart,
and revolting the soldiers of love
so that they don’t care about anything else
but conquering your heart.
That’s the way you make me feel
but when I touch and feel
your warm soft skin,
it all seems irrelevant.
My senses don’t respond around you
they ignore me and just distort around you,
delivering a blow of abstract sensations
and giving me a hypnotic observation,
in which I get lost in your world.
My mind obliterated by your presence,
and when you wake me with your light,
our eyes get caught in an eternal dance
funneling my sight
into your eyes,
wondering…
"Why don't I do something?"
Apr 8, 2010
Apr 8, 2010 at 4:16 PM UTC
Your tendencies to feed us white lies make some feel safe.
You know that, but the truth is: no one is safe from you.
Indiscrete imperialist nations
taking over each other,
yet they are so discrete
dropping bombs on the innocent
and saying “bon apetite.”
**** your sugar-coated ideals
blind-folding the already ignorant eyes
distorting my views of human kind;
making me wish I wouldn’t be
a member of this primitive, violent race.
Beasts with the dangerous advantage
of intelligence; feeling superior to
all life on earth, even each other.
Beating each other over colors,
Beating each other over ideals,
Killing each other over pointless
emotions produced by chemicals in the brain.
Behind the curtain of our repetitive lives,
lies the world so easily hid under the glass,
but people turn away from the truth;
afraid to realize
that you are driving us to our Doom.
Dancing in the rain of freedom,
instead of drowning myself in
the priceless, suspending ocean.
In your perspective,
complete freedom is too much
to handle, but I sit here
writing my thoughts, delivering the truth
Of the freedom within ourselves;
while you think of ways to give us illusions
of choice and freedom
that prevent us from discovering
the truth within ourselves
and releasing the truth behind your masked self.
Shoving in our face free buttons
that say, “Freedom isn’t Free.”
War is a business!
So of course,
You want us to fight to be free.
Apr 8, 2010
Apr 8, 2010 at 4:14 PM UTC
The mist obscured my view,
I couldn’t see anything but my hands.
The air was breezy and cool
And I had goose bumps on my arms.
Although my sight was blurry,
I could see the EYES
of the woman with fury.
She stared at me, without eyes,
but I knew she was looking at me.
I could sense her sight.
She was hungry for them.
I could see why she was furious.
All this time she had been a part of them
And yet she had been starved.
Starved of the reality she couldn’t see
without the EYES.
Starved of the world
around her.
Stripped…
of the beauty…
within her.
Apr 6, 2010
Apr 6, 2010 at 8:54 PM UTC