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(...)
It is perhaps this association between birth and beginning each school year which led me to respect knowledge. The entire month of August tends to fly by, unnoticed, in anticipation of the day I see children forced back into ill-ventilated buildings to emulsify themselves in education, for knowledge. Knowledge, that Moloch of an idea! Hobbies, interests and Summertime activities were heaped on flaming tongues with words in order to illustrate their ultimate insignificance. We hoped to bring out the blessing of wisdom from its mouth. “What matters is the coming Winter, not the frivolous activities of undisciplined youths.” It is as if the leaves of every tree were humanity's hair, and August had pulled back every strand to blow the woodsy breath of Autumn smoke into life’s ear. "You won't be this way forever." I am yet seduced by Fall’s cryptic murmurings and led to believe in endless, Halcyon flight. With arms draped around us from behind, knowledge draws me into oblivion, with unlabeled memories and I throw my desires into Moloch’s mouth. Now that I am burning, my self is the voice of this demigod. My birth certificate is my body, holding a memory to be inscribed on some later form beside some other numbers. Life has only so many Decembers.
(...)
MMXII
This is a paragraph from a new project of mine.
It had an overwhelmingly poetic feel, so I'm posting it here.
SoulPapo Nov 2014
The desert
Is dry,
My thirst
Unsatisfied,
May the dew
From the thighs,
Of the motherland
Amplify.

When my lips
Reach to sip
& my tongue
Is fortified,

I cannot stop
Until nature ****
And our beings
Emulsify.

To the just Lord
She crys,
With
Sweet agony
In her eyes,

My mouth
I open wide,
To reclaim
What is rightfully
My prize.

Our hands
Clasped
&
Unified,

We give
Praise
Towards
The sky,

Once her
Convulsions
Turn
Petrified,

And I listen
To her bosoms
Beat
A Morris code
Lullaby,

My heart
Is
now on
High,

So this old soul
No longer needs to be
Spry,

For the flesh
Has had iT’s fill
And I now
Am ready to die…
I have no MO....
No particular methodology
I just dream things up
Add a sprinkle of psychology

Season with similis
Macerate with metaphors
Emulsify with emotion
Then get baked... Real high

Let the words cool
while my soul
starts to drool
then I present it
to the night.
Bona Sera, boa noite, bonne nuit
mûre  Apr 2014
Oil and Water
mûre Apr 2014
I quarantined myself in a still pool
tranquil and floating, waiting for the ice
to finally freeze my turbid heart
into a more peaceful *****.

On the shore you saw me
or I saw you
and perhaps I was a lighthouse
or perhaps you were a lifeboat,
gliding from the banks
you poured yourself in like hot oil.

As you slipped over my arms, legs, torso, face,
you breathed into my ear a steady stream of prophecy and promise
-It's not right for a woman like you to be alone. You are built to give.

And so I felt your mouth seal over mine
and allowed you to inhale the starry swirls of life
I had been conserving for winter.

As you pulled me far deeper with you
we could not emulsify
but we became inseparable.
Nirmal Riaz Aug 2014
I don't know about your convolutions
Neither you do about mine
But we came this far, we did
We conquered, we lost, we forgot
While reading Frankenstein
I built you in the snow, I drew you in the sand
We saw construction and destruction
Walk together, hand in hand
You think the wind moves on when it blows?
But when love blows and dies, where does it go?
Does it emulsify in my heart again?
I wouldn't ever know
Why not be grateful for this evolution?
For it brings just another poetic revolution
And you know you don't have to
Compliment
Compliment my ****** poetry anymore
Or my face that has vaccine scars
Or my hair with split ends
For we are split too now, like two dead stars
Things that make me sad: permeable curtains
The rusted hooks on my fairly old Brassiere, hair fall
Not using conditioner, slowly losing it all
Mike Bergeron Sep 2012
Let the teeth rot from my skull,
And drop like culls
From a rack that's too old,
The house is cold
So failing, full
Of mold,
Let me go
Please,
It's just one request,
Only one
Chance to
Emulsify my best
Efforts
And fill your glass
With inadequate
Drops
Of a hard rain
That's difficult
To swallow,
Follow me outside,
Let's walk among
The silhouetted
Sunset trees,
The storms
Of gnats
And mosquitoes
That hover
Over gravel
Paths,
And remark,
As if we don't know,
"Unmarked graves
Where flowers grow."
And watch
As ghosts of
Shuffled feet
Fill the air
With clouds of dust,
Still glistening
With the heat of the day,
Please,
Just please stay,
Stay with me, marionette,
Till the wolves come and play,
They'll hide as we seek
And whisper
While we speak
Of whiskey dreams
And the reasons
We have to keep
Digging in sand,
Scooping handfulls
Of teeth,
Filling the gaps
In between
With phosphene
Screams.
Quote credit to Arcade Fire
Olivia Kent  Sep 2013
Pennies!
Olivia Kent Sep 2013
Drop a penny in the wishing well.
Watch the ripples emanate.
If wishes were kisses I have but a few.
Those that I have.
Will share only with you!

The ripples will magnify.
In our minds eye.
Pour oil on water.
Somewhat troubled.
Watch colours on the shining surface emulsify.
Play silly boy and girlish games.
Episodic I-Spy.

Count the pennies in our ***.
To see how much we haven't got.
Money doesn't matter much.
Missing feeling is true cost.

Ride the rainbow.
Until she vacates.
Vanishes back from spectrum in grace.
At her base is a crock full of gold.
Hidden from lovers.
Two lovers hunting, afore they get old.
She vanishes rapidly.
Back into the mist.






By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
I'm doing silly writes today...profound walked away for today **
April Hapner  Mar 2016
Drift
April Hapner Mar 2016
light disappears
the eyes close and the view
draws black
the breeze comforts and chills
like the mind cant change the moment
the spring can seem to believe.
we all tend to daydream,
but mine, mine---
drifts

all the ambient,
the hums of lights
white roars of tires on the roads,
the chills from the breeze, and the animated notes of animals
all seem unknown.

no dreaming in the stasis,
just existence.
as light tries to peer in this darkroom.
this is my photo lab
no need to expose.
i will let the images develop on their own.
and the pictures it all creates...
seem to in the water
emulsify, then attempt to testify
to drift.
Just listening to the house.
And Guess Who Has Yet Another Headache...
Though aye haint no athlete, nor a cosmopolitan mwm,
this bloke dislikes capricious adrenaline rush
to prove without a doubt
at least to whomever announced
to display eye popping, mouth watering,

nose twitching a notch above chattering class,
I could never be find klieg lights shone on me,
cuz this baby boomer favor modesty,
and allow, enable and provide unconditional
acceptance and/or sir render if a verbal tete a

tete sparring rapport, quintessentially predicating,
predicting, presaging petsmart outstanding native
manhood lesson kooky, jousting insignificant, harmony,
gaiety, favorability, earnestly draws character,
basically badass and altruistic anatomical acer.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ah, I mean to narrow scope of poetic theme
so pardon ma roundabout circular modus operandi
shifting intent to discuss five overlapping rings
specifically, yet fern *** part tickler rhyme nor reason

those trademark circular strunk and white elements
of harried styled, swiftly tailored symbols
decreeing a fresh batch of Olympiads, ought
to be preceded via a topnotch Gumby like
rubbery sprite, who gets trotted out as a nimble

acrobat (gender impossible to determine based
upon Pygmy size physique performing her/his
balancing act (while avast crowd peers thru binoculars)
atop an equestrian (coincidentally
enough named Pokey), kooly juggling,

illustionistically hefty, generally fiery essentially
discobulous, cyclical, basically sans,
non verbal body language announcing
human fetes defying the laws of physics, which
global contest occurs every two years i.e. biennial

versus biannual, which means twice a year.
The rings are five interlocking rings, colored
blue, yellow, black, green and red on white field,
known as the "Olympic rings". The symbol
page number two:

originally designed in 1912 by Baron Pierre
de Coubertin, co-founder of modern
Olympic Games. Between subsequent meetups
held at metropolis when elected doth fast-track
this mission (rendering impossible much needed

infrastructure repairs, but vying to beautify a city
based on bids, or maybe drawing straws)
exerts priority, thus every laborer recruited
to emulsify, fortify, glorify...

whatever sainted urban jungle
testing physical mettle asper whatever sport
competitors vie to pit their burnished brawn, deft
flourish heaving jellied jambalaya limber muscles
opportunistically quite supremely ultimately

winning hearts and minds of spectators until
next candidate performs his/her slack jaw
jack draw, jumbo popcorn filled bowl dropping,
nonpareil, eye popping, routine,

and so on...an attempt for a ticket holder
to merely stand upright gets tripped with
mindscape filled to the point of saturation
with supra hue man dare devilish
whirling dervish performances.

Not one of these contenders for top prizes
can be modest, yet here such narcissism
expected, when the crème de la crème
of a well synchronized machine of finely tuned
glass shattering aria re: symphony for
skeletal system, musculature, and love of fitness

presents such a supremely sumptuously
striated squared specimen on the world
wide webbed stage. Aside from vicariously
exalting in the trials and errors of first one,
then the retinue of absolute breathtaking
delight, the ordinary conflicts (between

one warring internecine faction and another
mortal enemy) get suspended for duration
of these celebrations. A fanatic, generic,
heuristic, intrinsic kinetic potential

unleashed from a select body of youths,
young fluid adults athwart cusp and prime of life
who spent majority of their brief lives
(since most entrants seem to retain
a faint residue of childhood).
However many weeks encompasses
the planet agog with exemplars

pushing thee enveloped limitations
built or evolved (whatever your belief)
within **** Sapiens, a collective unified
adulation, vocalization wows loudly, thence echoing
like an Earthly explosive shot fired across beaming berth
divine expression qua visual fancy feast.

That infinitesimal fragment of time
(when laying down
of a bomb bin nub bull arms occurs) proves
smarmy, snooty, ******
abuse, brutality, cruelty...heaped

upon innocent creatures great lumbering sized
or microscopically small magically
able to mastering purposefulness,

analogous like idealistic storybook fable
diversity tis viable to adopt care and
concern for others. No matter this
blatant claim defies everyday gruesome,
horrible, intolerable jawboning,

knifing, mauling, naysaying, overtly
punishing, quivering ******, sodomizing,
terrorizing, undertaking vile waterboarding,
yielding zero, zilch, zip loosening restraint
despite the agonizingly beseeching,

cloyingly desperate, emphatically feeble,
gasping helplessly, indignantly jeered,
kicked, lambasted, molested, needled,
paddled, quickened recipe per

phlegm drum manic spewing, tasering,
ultimately violently whipped, which
contrary behavior vis a vis survival

of baseless, damndest, foremost, hated
jackal lashing, narcissistically, polluting
re: slaughtering until vilest wickedest
ignoble yearning zero sum throw win game crowned
most nasty beast that e'er walked this terra firmae.

— The End —