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My brain ticks with a different kind of vigor
My brain licks at time, tasting new flavor
My brain thirsts for what isn't mine, nor my neighbours
My brain bursts at the dreams by a prickly Jailor.

Hail her, she mounts the mountains in attempts to see thee.
Completely unphased by the fountains that writhe beneath me.
I turn my back in revenge, revenge that bleeds me,
Dry of my vigor, dry of my fire for I am clay. See?

Mould me she said, with eyes deeper than gold strewn caverns in the beyond.
They perplex me, so, oh, so greatly they vex me, they stress me of concern.
I burn, nay, I am clay, so I yearn for this. Fair lady may I ask for one last kiss?
In my stead she kissed a statue instead, and left a mark, a deep copper red.

Goodbye she said, and she left the statue be, till the earth caved in, and so did the sea.
I cannot tell you how, or even of when. Or of when, or even of how can I not tell you?
Wow, I can tell you I saw a sky blue.
Or black, after Jailor's attack. Halt!

Stop dreaming! Oh please, do stop it henceforth!
I am mightily weary, must make trip to the north.
Lonely I have been, for you have not been.
So wake up and walk with that lop-sided grin.
Oh, what a tiresome companion you are,
Since I have made haste to journey thus far,
With you left behind after I had begun,
So pick up those feet, and away wierdy one.

Off we went, with my dreams in tow.
Whether I will have chance to taste them, I do not know...
But I know one thing, a something so grand.
When I next feel weary and dreary of hand,
I shall await to journey, that dreamer's land.
I wrote this on February 23rd, of 2011.

Five years, eh?

Yeah... five years.
Somehow, I'm learning to be a poet all over again.
Jeez.

LOL
This love was an answer,
a resolution in the blackest night,
a shrieking of delight,
a temperance of fear,
the death of disillusionment.

Indeed, love is many things.
It is a whisper of perfection,
beckoning the emotions to supernova,
to hold the reigns and throw them,
into the abyss of pleasure,
shouting into the void,
"Take my control!"
so that we languish in security,
sipping the knot of kinship.

Love is a smooth, soft, brush,
upon the lips, tickling away,
bruises of bitterness,
fortresses of fear,
agreements of anger,
lists of loss,
pits of pettiness;
Yes, yes, yes,
love is a cure.

It is injected into the heart,
of a soul reaching for purity,
a soul reaching for hope,
warmth, and good weather.

Love is that white sanded beach.
It awaits outside your window.
The gulls beckon, flying patterns,
across the shimmering sky.
Clouds form all your favorite shapes.
The water is warm,
"Come in," love says.

I walk that shore sometimes.
I write to you from that shore.
Walk with me.
Guess what mood I'm in, LOL!

No, no; there's no woman involved right now, but, who says you can't feel love on your own? :)

Enjoy!
We are of the sea, she and I.
Like the oyster and the pearl,
She is the mother of our passion.
Goddess of the tumultuous ocean.
I can taste the salt on her skin.
Remnants from the pearls of sweat,
That bubbled from her vista.

I imagine she is a mermaid;
Her tail threshing,
Her hair, tentacles in the current.
Her body, glistening reflections of the sky.
Smooth skin, under my furling tongue,
The delicate scales on her skin,
Balancing the fervent desires I withhold.

Only a moment too late,
The fire dies, but again,
We’re swept away in a wave of emotion
That sends us careening towards,
Another plateau of ecstasy.
Once again, a tide of change,
Carries us, to a world anew.

We are of another world she and I.
We speak of the masks we play in life.
Like the lunar seasons, crescent and full.
How malleable our voices are, from day to day.
Yet we speak the same language.
No alien words do we trade,
When our tongues meet on battleground.

All is fair here, where love and war take flight.
Where sounds ne'er carry into the night,
Orbiting the earth at the whim of lust.
Our hands trade a different sort of trust,
When gestures are the only words we know.
We see the canvas of the earth.
The colors that personify life in full bloom.

We can paint the world in our image.
Clouds will spiral into tender lips,
And kiss the winds across the heavens.
The fields of the earth, shall burst forth,
Bouquets of flowers,
As peace shall be wed with humanity.
These are the dreams we share; she and I.
I wrote this back in September of 2010.

This came hot off the heels of my college romance that ended on civil terms, but lit a corrosive fire in my heart that took years to diminish.

I really loved her. Every thought was beholden to her in the wake of the relationship, even into the next year.
It's a shame. That's all.
Membis Okorie Feb 2016
I watch the ****** river flow
As spotlights glow
Far away the sun shines bright
But not to my path
Under the moon am not covered
Trees die in sight of me
The world has turned void
All me without anothers breath

From town to town
Year to year
I wander
In search of hope of life
Far lost and never can be found

My life lies in your hands alone
For never can I continue
To wander all my days away.
Give me hope to live on by following me.
I pushed on by instinct,
As far back as I can think,
I walked into a new world,
On my way back home,
I found a pearl.
Whispers of some exotic girl,
Sound like lies when you're alone.

Stop, haunting me.
Stop, haunting me.
Stop, haunting me.

I left home for some adventure,
And of what I found I wasn't sure.
Seems like she was more alive than dead,
With this madness I will lay my bed.
You always think you won't be harmed,
By what doesn't exist (not in this life).
When you're far away from love,
It's all you've ever missed.

That love!
That love!
It came from above.
There's no other love.
When you're pushed off, the brink,
You will only find, what wasn't extinct.
She may not be what you wanted
Some days when you think you're haunted,
It's her... it's love...

Going back to where I found the pearl,
Surprised to see she is a different girl,
A new love to pave the way,
These really are better days,
For God there is only one praise.

It all seems like it's going to be kosher,
That shows you never really did know her,
When she stabs you, you see the light,
You're filled with unstoppable fright,
Because she's the one that ended up dead.
How could you be tricked by a bed?

That love!
That love!
It came from above.
There's no other love.
When you're pushed off, the brink,
You will only find, what wasn't extinct.
She may not be what you wanted
Some days when you think you're haunted,
It's her... it's love...

You feel like you've nothing left to loose,
Your tears as bitter as the *****,
This may just be the end you deserved,
That should be the part where you swerved.
Crashing into olden days,
You see that love is the craze,
Your broken heart's disease burns.
The sickness of a twisted love,
Haunts you like a sticky glove,
Just check out where you checked in.
Leave your heart where you'll leave your sin.

This love!
This love!
It came from above.
There's no other love.
When you're pushed off, the brink,
God will find you, when you're extinct.
It may not be what you thought you wanted
Some days when you think you're haunted,
Just pray... it's love...
Alright, soo... You may have realized these are lyrics.

The thing is though, I think they go hand in hand: poetry and lyrics.
I've been trying to write lyrics "in a sense" before I tried writing poetry... not true technically, but also "technically" yes.

I woke up today with this song in my head. I imagined it being performed by one of my favorite bands: The Fray.
I have the guitar riffs, the bass, the piano, some electronics, even violin in my head. On days like this, I wish I studied music.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.
I hope you understand it, too.
If you don't, just ask :)
Jayanta Feb 2016
There was a miscall
When called back
Only weeping was there  
then it was end!

There was a miscall
When called back
Only anguish was uttered
then switch off!

There was a miscall
When called back
Only hilarity was overt
then it was disconnect!

There was a miscall
When called back
Divinity replied
“good time is approaching towards you”
Suddenly call was dropped!

Try to call again and again
but line remains busy!

So, waiting for the miscall!
I've been around the world.
Yes, I've been around the world.
A vast garden of trees and lakes.
A tender yet mighty beauty unfurled.

The only thing that makes sense,
To my eyes of pruning; whence,
Did I desire a thing with petals?
A thing with all love's contents?

I do know the world,
Yes, I know the world,
But what I imagine I know not,
Something called a girl?

I'll tinker here and also there,
A little dirt, air and my hair,
What grows here in my garden.
Will soon be everywhere!

I've tried to imagine this,
A passionate, soft kiss.
Manufactured by my power,
It'll be here by the hour.

Yet what I grew from dirt,
Hair, air, and a water squirt,
Seems to be a pile of mud,
With this I can't even flirt!

Oh, can't I have a dream?
Not the milk, but the cream?
There can't be a secret more,
To my new and legendary chore!

I feel alone and spiteful,
This garden's no longer "full",
My hair falls out like petals,
Or how I imagine they would fall...

I look over my failed creation,
And I give it condemnation,
A tear travels to nose's crook,
It falls upon my aberration.

Pow! Like this. Pow! Like that.
Sparks fly and I don't eat my hat,
because what happens before me,
I simply can't not stare at!

Her delicious curves, radiant hair,
Eyes like my garden, a loving stare,
I can't believe what I have done,
Because she is not just anyone!

She is my love, this I can tell,
My heart is healed and I am swell,
Now I can say that I did find,
The flower of my garden.
Thinking about it now, this makes me think of,
"Frankenstein's Bride," haha!
I hope to watch that soon, now that I think about it.
I remember reading Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein", when
I was fourteen.
It was beautiful... but it was terrifying.
I was laying in a "hospital" (sick bay at boarding school),
And I may have had bronchitis. I often got flu-like stuff at that school, "Yuck."

Anyway, we're all created. There is a grand design.
We sometimes get in the way of that.
The character in poem got in his own way.
He "lusted" after her, when the truth is, instead of lust, sorrow is more appropriate for finding a mate. Not depression, "sorrow".
Pining. Genuine desire.
It's not much of a lesson, but that's all I got now.

Also, we do create our mates. They appear when we've built the right circumstances and our character, but we also spend a lot of time building each other up.

What's unfortunate is when we spend time tearing each other down.
Love can turn into hate quickly and it starts with bitterness.

Anyway, take care :)
Nigel Finn Dec 2015
I can fall in love with your words,
Without ever meeting the person behind them.
I could be infatuated by what you have to say,
Without ever hearing a moments speech from your lips,
Feel touched without the need for physical embrace,
Because every emotion shared is a kind of kiss.

It's certainly not romantical (although it offers no barriers to such),
No, this is something far more real,
Transcending the animal need for the flesh to intertwine,
So much more than the roundabout hellos and goodbyes,
Beating even the are you OKs and I feel that way toos.

It's the simple "I am here. This is me."
So glorious in its simplicity that it could break a heart,
Or mend it, depending on the reciever,
Although I suppose the point is there is no reciever,
Like the triumphant cry of the lone mountaineer,
Or the screams of a mother who's lost her child,
Only far more composed in their release.

I sometimes feel like I'm reading words not meant for my eyes,
(And, in a sense, I suppose they're not).
They are far more beautiful than words that need to be read,
These are words that were meant to be written.

I find myself hating humanity to its very core,
Although each individual has traits I love endearingly-
Every last one- (even ****** created works of beauty),
But you, who have encapsulated a piece of divinity,
Within such common things as words - I love you more.
An open thank you note to every storyteller, past, present, and future, who has, and will have made me laugh, cry, get angry, calm down, and feel a whole plethora of emotions with the simplistic beauty of their words.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2015
( Song )

Every culture of the world, they speak of,
Tell the tale of a great flood,
I feel the weather is changing, pouring hot
And getting ready to spill.
    I don't know what it was like before,
    'think now is like before the flood.

And so I welcome the rain from the sky,
It is only the tears of the earth,
As a young woman who cries,
Showing beauty along with the hurt,
In future days woes of our lives,
Will be cleansed by the tears of the earth.

I read the story of Noah and his ark,
'say that he was a righteous man,
I look for truth but I can't see clear it's dark,
And all the animals are scarce.
    I feel the end of an age is come,
    Inequity is the day, O Lord!

And so I welcome the rain from the sky,
It is only the tears of the earth,
As a young woman who cries,
Showing beauty along with the hurt,
In future days woes of our lives,
Will be cleansed by the tears of the earth.
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