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Chicken Feb 22
Little ****
I'll pull you up
to my face
and
eat you.

Make you into
something else
It's painful
but
you knew.

Every atom
Every speck
transforms time
and
time again.

If air is the chorus
then you
are the choir
singing
despite pain.
Everything has a sound, a frequency, no matter what state it is in.

We live in an endless structure of sound, of song, the multitude of the verses.

Why do you like music so much?
Nathalie Feb 13
Tiptoeing across a shaded room
I stop momentarily …
As I catch a glimpse of you sitting…
Peacefully…in mediation and prayer…
…Your aura is aglow…
As the most entrancing of suns…
The energy of the room shifts
To match the rising frequency…
A smile flirts upon my lips…
I can feel the love emanating
From you… Being…
Harmonizing with the serenity
That you breathe…I continue my journey
Leaving you at one in your inner sanctuary…
Carrying with me, the imaging
Splendour that has been imprinted on
My heart…

~Nathalie
Mary Shanti Feb 1
Everything I say
You whisper condolences
On my soul
On my spirit
On the very essence of who I am
Where I have been
You wait
Like pigeons
For that moment
I feed you the scraps
Tiny morsels
Of my being
Sit on the window sill of your life
Waiting
For patience
Promises unkept
That swept
Up and up
From cranberry filled faucets of life
Where we sat in
Now you
Pull the drain
And Swish swish
Where one you were my voiceless
Power *****
Now you are editing the very frequency of my being
I must now turn up the volume
Shout it loud
Leave this room of our lives
Leave the stereo at 10
Listen to my voice
On the headset
And walk the **** out
Amoy Feb 2018
Is self  the vessel that holds our souls?
or is  the soul our true self?
should we look to our outer appearance  and the world to define ourselves,
do we search for the love of self through what people see and say about us?
someone once said "self cant help self"  what did he mean?
if self cant help self then who can?.. after all.. our self is the only
true companion we have in this world. here is one thing I've have learn.
when  we love our self for who we truly are inside,we defines our essences  and it is our essence that define us.
StarBloom Nov 2018
We know each other as History,
Yet we play in the unknown as Mystery.

Alone and along the path,
we are not apart.

The familiar essence in the sense of you,
yet such freshness of the forest as
I See You.

I can smell the stories of our past,
ancient eyes as I look at you through the void in vast.

Our spirits have dancing long before we knew how,
for our sacred meeting forms us to sway to the music that beckons the miracle shining our way.

This tune we know,
for this truth is ingrained in our soul.

Accelerating demons and angels of our dance,
Let’s let our creatures out as we enhance,
our movement motion,
depths of devotion.

Raising,
rising,
the frequency,
fractalising.

What began with a swaying,
melted into our praying

A sacred pray to the gods for our journey of togetherness.

Breathing between,
we meet as the eternal embracing,
exploring spacing.

Resonance, Reflection, Remembrance
Shared
Tasting the vibrant vitality in the air.

electrifying, energising, eternalising,
weaving ourselves through the many strings of our worlds,
Meeting as darkness and light makes love to sight.

The full spectrum plectrum,
Strum me baby,
For we are roaming in a field of dragon daisies...
And i can hear our Song.
A Doubles Oct 2018
I've been afloat,
Captain a boat.
Control the motion in the ocean 'til I'm getting soaked.
In a skull,
Cross bones
One eyed pirate and the sea men found the treasure trove.
Drop the anchor on a beach,
In a cove,
Burying it so deep
Dig a hole.
I can't let nobody see,
Telescope.
*** the spot,
Exit marks and leave the dock.
Replace 'a' with 'her' When said with a Birmingham accent, they sound the same.
Harley Hucof Aug 2018
I resonate
Smiling down from my room
Expectations kills reality
Just as reality kills fantasies

Are they my friends ?

I see the enemy in front of me
He is fearful and he is mocking me

Whispers and looks
Dishonest insects trying to be the center of attention in the room

I am aware of them
Their masks and uniforms
Their scent and their many forms

It is easy to be seduced
But not anymore
I will not be used

There are still many shapes for me to become
Wisdom is the opposite of freedom

I see the enemy in front of me
He is laughing and he is looking at me

I want to end this but he is not letting me

I see the enemy in front of me
Suddenly everything is clearer
I am looking at myself in the mirror

I can't feel anything

But i resonate

Words Of Harfouchism
I am my own enemy and my ego is stopping me from being happy
Ivan Brooks Sr Jul 2018
Love has its own frequency
Which sadly has no accuracy.
So you can cry me a river,
Fry for me some tender liver,
Promise to love me forever,
Or try to do whatever...
But if the timing isn't right,
And my romantic game isn't tight...
Even though you're very awesome,
The flower of love just won't blossom.

Love-frequency is a sad reality
Love or hate the contrasting duality.
So you can treat me like a king,
Dance for me and try to even sing.
You can have quality time with me,
Try your best to ignite the flame.
You can grill for me chicken wings,
Roll your lovely eyes until it swings...
If my heart isn't in the right place,
Your efforts will be a fruitless chase.

#IvanBrooksPoetry©
  7/27/2018
Love has its own frequency.
Apollo Hayden Mar 2018
Within turbulent reflections the sun can still be seen by an altered perception; the storm has already ceased.
In the mist we calmly drift to higher frequencies.


-Apollo Hayden
Could you imagine someone that made you shiver with excitement?
I never thought I could until I met him
He is so normal but so extraordinary
I yearn to know his thoughts
I yearn to know him
All these questions in my head An get overwhelming
Sometimes I'm afraid I'm too forward.. too open
It worries me how quickly I latch onto a frequency...
Frequencies have the potential to change but I'm risky
Im going to jump with no shame
His voice is calming
His touch is soothing
In his presence I feel safe
Even though I have no idea what I'm doing
Poem 3— Muffin
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