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Mohannie Jan 29

She was a delilah
And sprouted from the ground
She came up to meet ya
And tell you you're found

She grew like a fire
Straight through the sky
And bloomed like a choir
As your tears begin to dry

She was a protector
And became your shield
As sweet as nectar
With her heart she has healed

Miss Delilah was strong
The day she broke through the earth
To sing you this song
And to show you your worth.

Hakiim Nov 2018
you made me feel like I made flowers bloom
a single beat like quarter
shutters open to reveal clear sky
clouds clear like Windex
me in mud a snail
you the salt in my warm water
on my skin
gargle and spit me out like blow darts
in my body burning like an acid
left to defend the fort
fallacies shot like arrows from serpent tongues
third dimension hidden like Little Finger
clarity of sight
reality seen only in two dimensional travel
bound a lip like Billy
let you be Winnie
let you be Judas
and I Job
b Apr 2018
i wanted to call this poem

"if this is fate than put a gun in my mouth"

feels a bit excessive
even for me.

and im the most extra ***** ive ever met.

i rarely have **** to say when i write.
ive rewritten the same feeling a thousand times.
i only know so many synonyms for heartbreak
and im running out.

the star of all this angsty literature
is far away for the moment.
across the country.
but ill be home soon
to watch her graduate (im still a kid and so is she)

i went very far away from home for a lot of reasons.
admittedly, she was one of them.
when i met her
she told me she'd never be able to afford to leave.

well good news.

next year she'll be an hour away.

i think i live in a chinese finger trap
or the ******* matrix.
the harder i pull
the faster the walls cave in.
the **** i try and leave behind
gets to where im going before i do.

i believe in love too much to ever **** it.
even if that means i have to watch it die slow in my hands
and listen to it shriek out in pain.

id rather die than give up on love
and from what i remember
thats what we call hamartia.

i could fall in love with a sword through my heart
if it was nice enough to me.
and maybe if she were holding it,
it wouldnt even hurt.

my highschool english teachers would be very proud of all the two greek terms i remembered
acacia Jul 2017
When we first met, I was almost in love.
I ogled your pink lips that were engulfed by a black beard.
My eyes bulged when I saw your handsome face.
I drooled over your tall athletic frame.
Your lips curled into a grin as you asked my name.

I’ve known of you to be the strongest man in Jerusalem --
is this true? What brought a gorgeous man like you to this village?
A man who killed villainous Philistines day and night.

The Scriptures never mentioned we had the deepest conversations
and laughed and kissed, how you completely fell for me,
and how you were my almost lover.

The trees were so much taller, the green was so much greener,
and sky was bluer because of you.
The birds were always singing, manna was
so much less, and milk and honey were so much more.

I was offered silver in trade for you.
I was offered silver to find out the secret
of where your might came from. The might and strength
that threatened the world, it’s power.
You were my sweetest downfall, almost lover.

At night, after we drank the third glass of red wine,
on the purple bed, you took another glass.
You curled my hair, your caressed my cheeks,
you giggled like a little boy.

I whispered as I begged for you to tell me
where your strength lies and where you get your might.
You tugged on my hair, and your mouth zippered up.
Your eyes rolled back into your head, and you slept on a blue silk pillow.
You never finished your fourth glass of wine.

I took my shears and cut it all off.
Loc after loc. Strand after strand.
To pretend it never happened,
I snuck away and traded your hair for the silver.
I rolled my eyes back into my head
and pretended it never happened.

Did the Scriptures mention that?
Or the guilt I felt? Or the talks we had?
Even once?

I got my money;
they captured you
but the Scriptures never mentioned my regret --
not even once.
In the quickened breeze,
My mind slips with ease
To a place of long ago,
Where little girls pranced
In a mystical dance
And stardust sprinkled like snow.

Little boys rushed to see
With what beauty and ease
Of grace that did keep them a-daze,
But none was the wiser
When the dance of Delilah
Sent their minds through a mystical maze.

To the spectators' delight
as she danced through the night
unaware of what spell she had cast,
Transfixed with a smile
They dazed all the while
As times' future had soon become past.

And hundred years of fixation
And a fine lad's dedication
To dance with his heart's delight,
Was now set at ease
As he bent to his knees
To kiss the hand of his dream goodnight.

His pulse beat slowly
And his heart felt lowly
Though this moment he knew soon had to end.
Would this dream have to cease?
Did his imagination increase
Just to allow his yearning heart to mend?

The mystery ends as it did begin
As I reflect on days then
Of a lad who danced with his love.
Like the leaves of trees
Dancing in the breeze
A silhouette in shadow to see,
The dance of Delilah and He.
Mollie Grant Apr 2016
The Elders took me to church
and planted me on the back row
to squirm and fidget
while they filled my head with stories
of women like Delilah,
          who seduced Sampson
          and used her body
          to weaken a warrior,
and Bathsheba,
          whose nakedness upon her own roof
          made David falter
          from king to killer,
but told me that I will lose
value after I grant a man
permission–should he even ask–
to lay his hands on me,
as if the priest and prosecutor
could preach purity
into my dry bones
and watch me rise up before them
without ever having realized
the power I possess
within my own rib cage.

*"And the serpent said unto the woman,
'You will surely not die."
Ricky Sep 2015
You are God sent

You are a walking church bell and every time you take a step you ring, and I swear even atheists stop what they're doing just to praise you

I look into your eyes and watch as the lamp of your body illuminates your soul and understand what Matthew meant when he said you were full of light

You speak the language of angels and the vibrations of your voice cause me to go so deep into meditation that it causes an imbalance in all 114 of my chakras, and you always wonder why I only speak to you telepathically

Every time our lips meet I go 6,000 years back in time and relive the moment Adam and Eve took a bite out of the forbidden fruit and the taboo taste never fails to be worth it

I know that you're God sent
because you have God's Scent

I know that you're God sent
because you ascend into the sky with wings as strong as Samson
before he was tricked and deceived by Delilah

I know that you're God sent*
because you're bound to betray just how they all betrayed our Messiah
AM Jul 2015
Oh my dear Samson
Please, save me
The wicked wizard had
put his black witchcraft
on my heavy heart
—it turned into stone
and drown me deep
into Bermuda Triangle
Roisin Sullivan Nov 2014
You know, I've never really thought about
The stories I heard my grandmother tell.
Something about Samson and Delilah
Something about unconditional love.

Never really mattered til now,
But, you see, I'm starting to learn.
The fog is beginning to clear.

I keep ******* up, I don't deserve you.
You have infinite wells of inner strength
And all I want is to make you human,
Come down and despair with us mere mortals.

Let me claim your strengths for my own.
Why not? Don't I deserve them too?
I'm selfish, I know.  Lord, I know.

If there comes a day where I'd get a chance,
I'd ******* shave your head; I'd nick your skin.
I want to stop having to reach for you.  
I need us to be on the same level.

Please, can we start over again?
Let's go back to the beginning,
No Samson and no Delilah.

Instead let's be Adam and Eve.
N23 Aug 2014
The first time that Delilah saw Samson
she said to herself,
“That man will be mine.”
she said,

He laughed when she first begged to bind him,
“I cannot be bound.” He declared,
“I have brought one thousand men to their knees.”
She replied, “So have I.”
and on her knees
she showed him how.

Their favorite game to play was Pagan,
he would act as sacrifice and she, the priest,
teaching him to worship
at her temple,
teaching him the best death
was deathless.

Long before she cut his hair,
she made him weak.
Long before they gouged his eyes,
he was blinded.
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