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Glenn Currier Mar 23
The tongue wags with sudden impulse
swearing on myself what I’d never utter to another
a volcano of failure erupts like a reflex
gushing in a tide of crimson anger
making me wonder if my mind is master
or merely a servant of fleeting feelings.

I embarrass myself and subject those in earshot
to these small virile tsunamis of garbage
molesting and spoiling peaceful moments
while they silently love me
and cherish the molecules of purity
they see and summon in me.

It will take a higher power
to stem this tide
for my own devices have pitifully failed.

I call out to the heavens
mount me on eagles’ wings
bear me on the breath of dawn
change my mind
and pinch my tongue
between your finger and thumb.
Making a concerted effort to do better with this ***** vice I still court with too little forethought.
Chrissy Feb 5
Would you please tell me when your heart is trembling , ready to erupt in a volcano of emotions
so instead of fleeing for my life
I can stay and try to mend the damage ?
All I want you to do is talk to me
a midnight
let fly
a lubricious
crow that
Vesuvius threw
off her
mind and
made out
this harmony
and a
throng we
once said
was so
wild where
we met
in night
of ash
a state of mind
nick armbrister Feb 2018
This artistic and ancient civilisation settled on these fertile slopes a millennia ago,
in peace with the land they live in complete harmony for they are not a war-faring race.

They plant crops and grow grapes on the lower slopes of the huge towering volcano,
everyone ignores the billowing clouds of steam issuing forth, they know they’re safe just as their parents knew.

At midday the earth rocks and then the volcano explodes, sleeping mountain awakes with a massive roar. Fire and rocks fly forth in all directions and lava flows down the steep slopes.

Villagers run away scared but many are caught in the fall of hot ash and rock,
as the burning lava destroys their crops and town they know the end is near.
Falling ash covers everything and everyone so that they’ll be hidden for three thousand years, entombed to their end.
grace Sep 2017
i watched the smoke loom into the sky.
you and i, we don't pay it any mind.
the blood is rushing to my face—
vesuvius who?

a.d. sixty-two: an earthquake shook the ground.
that was seventeen years ago, and we are twenty now.
four days ago the shakes started again
but i don't mind the sound.

i close my eyes and i am gone
the room is full of heat
volcanic ash and tephra and gas—
forever, we're asleep.
Thomas Conlan Aug 2017
Man, the mountain tamer.
Explains to the erupted how their cores can be corrupted. Disaster avoided he can rejoice, until he hears another voice. Afraid of how their emotional erosion may cause the Earth's explosion. Lost, not just their home, but themselves.

Man, the mountain tamer.
Sweetly shouts serenades to the mounds who seek aid. Blissfully bringing back the molten from back before they knew when. Lava they've learned to live through now erupting from within you. The heart's fatal eruption will be their world's destruction.
Dawn of Lighten Nov 2016
The Artisan tongue and Linguistic,
Likes of the melted cheese upon the mouth,
And the gift of tamoto soup in winter tundra.

Those are the gift that I seek upon,
As an indentured servant looking upon the wonders of aurora boreal,
Or a spiritless soul seeking to quench the inner fiber meld with ether.

Dream seeker with nothing to stand,
A adventurer without a quest,
Or the rebel without a cause.

Those days are but a distant past,
Forgotten murmur of mythic dreams,
As radiance dawn from each breath.

Come upon the golden kingdom,
And seek prize upon the window of glory,
While never stand in comfort of being normalized.

The suburban curse of procrastination,
The comfort of daydream,
The arrogant silence of enact.

The desire to seek greatness entwined with destiny,
Perpetual confidence grasp the very breath of existence,
And one would crawl out from nothing.

I breathe to be something,
And seek everything,
To avoid being nothing.

For seekers desire,
And desire seek every essence of breath another day to be all things.
I can never stay full, nor can be happy stagnant, but dare to seek everything.
Steven Forrester May 2016
When things are stacking up
My mind is packing up
And I've had enough
Of a world that seems to hate me
Of a world where theres no one left to save me
The new one
The lost one
The young one
All of them in my head
I wish I were dead
For causing this turmoil
Which I dread
Bury me in the soil
Before my anger is fed
By a lost tease
A new crush
And a young love
Who knows where it'll lead
Now hush
And fly away my dove
It bulds up to pull me down
Until I'm underground
Until I cant hear the sound
Of three sweet voices in which I've drowned
In love with the lost
Lost with the young
And a young friendship with the new
A voice of reason is trapped behind a door
Because where you have one voice
I have six more
Reason
Is not what they speak
Treason
Is all that they reap
I've come to a new assumption
Drowning in an emotional eruption
(c) Steven Forrester- From Diary of an Ominous Mind
Ambika Jois May 2016
I wonder if you could tell me
What you saw in my eyes on day one
The day we met had a warm summer breeze
But what did you see under our setting sun?

I ponder until my sky has darkened
What you heard that you didn’t want to let go of
The night we sat in Aya with our eyes widened
But what did you hear through the music of love?

I squander my imagination out of reach
What you could’ve felt on our last embrace
Over the clouds, mourning mountains and seas
But what did you feel about the memories we couldn’t erase?

I surrender my thoughts and dream from yesteryear
What stopped us from erupting every single day?
Through our implosions, we’ve turned igneous and seared
But what good are we if we can’t make it through today?
I wonder, if the quiet and serene Aogashima were to break her silence from 1785 and throw her heat out, how would it appear?
This poem is based on one of my repressed emotions that I felt was connecting with the peaceful yet secretly building Aogashima.

For full intro, visit - https://ambikajois.wordpress.com/2016/04/27/aogashima/
I'm standing there with family near
With laughter loud and spirits high
When deep within a pain so full
And pressure strong begins to rise.

The power of this pressure builds
An ever rising, throbbing pang
From deep within my bitter heart
A fountain filled with burning death.

And then it comes; now breaking forth
Erupting down my face in streams
The wetness of my pain unbound
A violent, torrid, sobbing man.

A pause in time, a moments rest
And then explodes my soul again
In flowing streams of molten pain
And clouds of hate that darken me.

From where does all this pain now rise?
What purpose does it serve in me?
I cannot see the end in sight
Once more the pressure suffocates.

I cannot find one soul left here
Who knows the power of this pain
Who will at once come to my side
And hold me up until it's gone.
This poem is in a set. The second poem in this set is "This Progress."
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