Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Liquids and lipids
North and south
Fatty and lean
Mouth-to-mouth
Resuscitation
Breathe
In and out
I think I need the Heimlich too
Compress my chest
Until I come to
 Jun 2015 PoETE Poet-Pete
Noah
spinning violently
the roaring rush dampened by
dark infinity
I've seen a better part
Of overwhelming emotion
It's strange
An ebb and flow
Of apathy and actually
Living
Feeling an emotion
Feeling a feeling
Feel
When your body
Is alive
And your mind is trying
To let it slide
Behind
I am fine
I am
Life is beautiful
he died in a second, and woke up for a lifetime
angel wings were made to fly away
death's rope was his only lifeline
lifting him up from the dues that he paid
perfect eyes are directed
directly at the ones affected
affection should be reflected
reflections shine toward the effected

effects of beams projected
projecting back at the ones connected
connections are to be expected
expectations of a love perfected
there's a final destination
but i have no plans
i'm a free-ranging, solitary, makeshift man

there's so many resting places
but i have to move
i have plenty to do and nothing to prove

there's a final destination
but within life's span
i'm a free-ranging, solitary, makeshift man
~~
Hands which have been cleaning hard edged stones since born
grew bruising on the palate,
after that mind grew the hardest,
compact

As the sediments on pressure, temperature
in course of time, a buried treasures   
even a drop of rain never drops on this soil,
a ****** barren field,
where growing crops is beyond dreams

If her soft hand ever touch that stony hands
he could not sense, but she can
that mind never write a poetry as for her soft mind's desire,
as the rain drops on the chest of desert,
where certainly the flowers bloom, the lonely birds sing

His hands will rise with fire harp
with voices of revolutionary poetry,
heart flows with that tunes, the melody of strangers quite ambiguous to her,
where she can't play known instruments ever

The hands of hammer of the spirit of the day and night
his love is burning fire of sand that tempest in desert,
That solid gold is made with fire
where the strings of love span for eternity
~~

@ Musfiq us shaleheen
~~
Don't get me wrong, darling
Because that's exactly, I do not know how to say
However, what goes out of the home
Rivers, Mountains, Sea
Or beyond the horizon, Any call

You don't make a mistake
I'll be back to whom
So, for a moment, don't misunderstand me
That exotic flute, distant Kans grasses
Even from far away:
From the seashore, I have heard the echoes of another time

So don't misunderstand me, darling
They have relationships with, and you are like me
They are not devoid of love
I give you, borrow from them

For a moment, don't misunderstand me
I bring your pearl beneath the sea,
From the mountains the ancient forms,
The original earthy flavour,
A chunk of drifted white clouds from the autumn sky as a little boat

So, you don't misunderstand me
Where 'll I come back
Where 'll sing their song
Where to lose my soul,
Or will not come
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
I dreamt an Angel came to me
With a grin and blood on his face.
Still, a tear was in his eye.
His head hung in disgrace.

He did not speak a word to me
Yet, I knew his mind.
I felt he was a part of me,
As I am, cruel; but kind.

He took me to a stair well
Leading up and down,
Splayed in e'er' direction,
As I gazed around.

Then, were lambs and goats
Battling in a field of fire,
And swine possessed of a madness;
To which I could not aspire.

The Angel pointed, with boney claw,
At the desert and the sea.
I could not choose between the two
Which one should I be.

His wisper was a fount
Of living, crystal clear
Water moving over me,
Flowing in my ear.

His fiery cloak embraced me.
It burned upon my skin.
He brought me to ground, turned me around.
The Mystery has no end.
This is the first poem I wrote that had ever been published. I was 26. I have always been really proud of it. It was lost in the bottom of my entries so I am reposting.
Next page