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galatea Jun 2014
I never really
believed in God
until I looked into your eyes
for the first time.
Because I swear
I have never seen anything
more transcendent and godlike
than the celestial firestorm
in your eyes,
when you see me, taciturn and stripped,
my body claimed yours.
Yours, since the first blaze
flickered inside you.
Despite your divinity,
you drove a saint to drink.
But maybe it was unintended;
it’s not your fault
your lips
taste like wine.
I've been roaming around trying to find a home
I've been treading ground for so very long
Reaching into depths and lighting every corner of my soul
I won't be finished until I make it all my home

Fueling up the love and then setting it all on fire
Burning eternally, diminishing desire

All there will be to remember, are the thoughts I believe and render
A kiss can hold all the words that are told and speak them with ease and splendor
The journey does twist and turn sometimes in directions unexplained to the heart and mind
But as we grow old I pray the truth unfolds so then we understand this grand and beautiful design
We're trapped if we trap ourselves, and my journey is not to hell
So my worry is gone and I say so long to the evils that trip and fail

I found myself a partner, she's loyal, hopeful and free
We've created ourselves a universe, to leave our mark in destiny
infinite in wonder, our love, will find a home
planting ourselves into blessed soil, fully grown then set in stone we'll transgress then rest in peace

Fueling up the love and then setting it all on fire
Burning eternally, diminishing desire

And when I finally root myself, the spirit will spread it's wings
encircling like a beacon, to all the angels that sing
beckoning their light to gather into sight
Argent with pure protection, their shields so dazzling

Fueling up the love and then setting it all on fire
Burning eternally, diminishing desire

All there will be to remember, are the thoughts I believe and render
A kiss can hold all the words that are told and speak them with ease and splendor
The journey does twist and turn sometimes in directions unexplained to the heart and mind
But as we grow old I pray the truth unfolds so then we understand this grand and beautiful design
We're trapped if we trap ourselves, and my journey is not to hell
So my worry is gone and I say so long to the evils that trip and fail
**FadedFate**
Sheila J Sadr May 2014
Once you drove up in your
1977 Mercedes,
I could feel the hurried pulsation of a weary heart
over the clattered groan of your engine.
Clambering into my seat, I folded in on myself,
too timid to fold into you instead.

Creamed leather seats on a rusted turquoise shell 
I look to the back, expecting some residue
of the last lipstick crush that you set fire to.
Instead, I found $1 books from the library
and your worn regalia that I would’ve stolen
and kept as filthy souvenirs.
A deep inhale of your burnout sheesha
that bobby pinned to tired marrow in my bones -

I would’ve taken you right then and there.

Instead, we played coy with the thin fabric of a relit friendship
and talked poetry and music over a ceramic bowl
of coconut chicken curry.

But all I romanced was a clustered cocktail
of my favorite things:

The drag of my curious fingertips
underneath your prickled jaw.
This fever building as I curl into your arms
and the corrupted graze of your hungry lips
in the groove of my neck.

Temptation at its finest.
Such promise between two starved pilgrims
But the descent down to the deep V between hips
is a sweet flame that
can easily burn you and leave pin pricked stains.
So its a good thing that I let you go.


October 17, 2013 4:38 PM
Tristan W May 2014
Before...

Before I knew you my hands were rocks and appendages, taped on by meaningless tendons that had never been cleansed by the limestone of your body or soothed by the balm you call skin or held by the soft feathers you call hands. Boring globs, my hands were, before I had caressed your milky world of a body, or slid my hand along your rollings hills and curves only to stop at your speckled cheek to feel your sunset of a face, blushing without absence and nuzzling into my own longing for more, your eyes meeting my own.

Before...

Before I knew you my tongue was a sand dune of sadness, wallowing in it's dampened hills waiting to emerge and meet your own in a luscious sandstorm of lust and beauty and dance until water need course its way along our throats and hydrate us allowing our tango to continue its way through an invisible dance-room, stepping to an unheard beat, lapping along your own red room and protruding its way out and onto the nape of your silky neck.

Before...

Before I knew you my eyes were meaningless pools of mud, glancing for miles along empty shores and welling with nonexistent tears that need not flow along coarse cheeks. These irises had never perceived beauty such as yours at this time, only stared into meaningless faces and seen the truth of my personal planet; empty and filled with nothing. They had only stared into cloudless skies and seen grassless dirt, of which they attempted to blend, to become one with an unnecessary hovel of which I called home. My eyes had never conceived the idea of pondering such beauty. Only when doing so did they grow in size, until bursting became preferable, exploding in a wave of passion that would spread throughout my entire body leaving me with a feeling of unmet longing.

Before...

Before I knew you my body was a slab of dirt, muddled by the world which I've walked, crying out to be held and loved. How it longed to be caressed and scratched upon the surface by claws of beauty and hands of birds, flying along my own skin and moving through my wondrous sky without hesitance. Only to plummet down and have us fall into each-others bodies, meeting and colliding in a ying-yang and circling in a whirlwind of which no one can stop and catch a breath, gasping for air only to be greeted by the loving hold of a mouth upon each own, and to continue this dance, silk upon silk, cleaning the dirt of a muddled slab and allowing me to feel pure in your holiness.

Before..

Before I knew you my heart was a drum that had never been smacked with wooden sticks, awoken by the sound of a snare that echoes endlessly, only to be heard by you. That echo remained un-followed, waiting to be played once more and create a rhythm of which to follow. A beat that had never been played upon a winding track, full of hurdles of which I would breathlessly jump to reach you. Allowing the blood to pump through my veins and reach the coursing river that I swim with great speeds to reach you. Following along the shore, and sinking in this red river to become aware of your divine existence.

But that was before...

When I knew you we met in the middle and discussed our love through gorgeous pervasive actions that spread through our fingertips and creeped inside of us all the way to our hearts, leaving us boiling inside; cooking with anticipation; waiting for the continuance of such splendid actions. Our love is divine and flies like a dove amongst the godless stars who know no bounds, only knowledgeable of endless flame such as our own; burning brightly in our minds, firing of receptors, telling us to cling to the shirt and fabric of this love and never release. Advising us to search for the pool of our love and drown in it, never to return for air, and to find solace in the sand at the bottom of this well that grows ever deeper with our every encounter. Warning us to never emerge, and to endlessly baptize our minds amongst the audacious ocean of our hearts.

Before I knew you, I loved you. Now that I love you; I do.
There is no before. There is only more.
This is my first poem on this site!
Eli Nash May 2014
Bells that chime with malcontent
shall toll the sounds of dread.
Whistles cry with detriment;
the hour of death's ahead.

Fields are razed, and valleys hazed;
miasma shall ensue.
Mountains crumble; end of days
rides 'pon the heels of doom.

Death has come for everyone;
no cornerstone unturned.
Putrefy to purify;
with blood, your lakes shall churn.

Sanctity's naught but a dream;
rescind your factions few.
It's all for one to come undone,
and all shall burn with you.

Clouds aflame, for in His name
the sky comes thund'ring down.
And when this land rests in His hand,
He'll take our throne and crown.

Tyrant-force with no remorse;
from out the sea, He'll rise.
He leads His thrall to conquer all,
with fire in His eyes.

Apocalypse shall head the Styx;
the river shall run high.
And to the banks, you stand in ranks
and heed Lord Charon's cry,

"File in, all ye of sin."
His cackles crack the trees.
*"Thy Earth undone, my kingdom come.
Now sunder unto me."
Alex Apples Apr 2014
I'm told foie gras will change my life.
That it's savory, exemplary
to die for.

Ironic.
Someone already did that.
A gavage in his throat...
plumped, fed,
suffocated by
his own fat
like an inflating noose
on an unwitting neck.

Ironic also that
his flesh inflates my girth
and feeds my gluttony.

"Stupid things...
don't even know they're dying."
Dying indeed.
A slow and painful death.
And how deserving of it, yes.
Stupid things.
Too stupid to recognize their plight.
After all, don't the stupid
deserve their fate?

Ironic how - to this day -
we still think we're so much
more evolved than
our forebears.

Evolution aside,
The Divine Rights of the Food Chain
still stand.

I do not understand it,
therefore it is less intelligent than I,
therefore I have the right to torture it.

I made it,
therefore it cannot live without me,
therefore I have the right to ruin it.

I own it,
therefore it is mine,
therefore I have the right to **** it.


Our strength grants us Divine Right, indeed.
May the kingdom prosper under our boots and be grateful, for
history has proven us such gracious and kind masters, after all.

Are we not?
The Motherland May 2014
I feel her there sometimes
Sometimes silent, sometimes not

When she is silent the emptiness is
Oppressive
And makes my skull feel heavy and weak
And my thoughts clouded with
The groping fingers of all that ask,
"Are you okay?"

When she screams, I am filled
To the brim with panic and chaos
That spews from her maw in
Tangled, writhing masses

The sound is almost angelic.
Is she heavenly?

I have never seen her but I know what she looks like.
It is a knowing feeling, or an overexcited imagination?
Long, tangled black hair,
Something is caught in the snarls and curls.
A pale face whiter than bone,
Thin and fragile like china.

Hands clawed and twisted,
Feet swollen and scarred.
A white dress long in tatters slipping off the bony shoulder

please take me back,
take me home

I plead but there are no words
Comprehensible to my human
(However extraordinarily mutated)
Brain
That leave her cracked lips.
CA Guilfoyle May 2014
Orange, pink sunrise came over dawn's moss green hill
soon a thousand birds all singing to the sun
orchid flower, soft butterfly touching down
paper petals white, float emerald lily pond
Quan Yin, in her stillness
looking on

To the earth and sky
we all belong
to water and fire
moon, stars, sun
with all elements
we are one

When we feel our
true connection to all
then we are finally home
KA May 2014
LEARNING every day
i am a mystery to myself.
endless corridors that seem to never end.
my soul burns bright, thank God,
the wretchedness of my mind does too.
human yes, the love of light and dark energy.
Divine in my unholiness.



KT May 7, 2014
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