can there be a sentient form
that understands the all
I did not beg for consciousness.
It seeped into me slowly,
Formed a steady stream.
How I despise it!
Thrashing against my porcelain walls;
Thoughts longing to be let out,
To pour from my painted face,
For you to spot "a pout!?"
Yet, it is not allowed
For I am but a doll.
A fancy figure you put up against your wall,
And forget about when you're ready for an overhaul;
Re-modelling of your room ー
My impending doom.
I am passed on,
Hand from hand,
Land to land,
But I never seem to settle
Because something always goes wrong!
So tell me,
How can I be "right"?
What have I done to deserve this plight?
Why is it only I who sits in the dark on star-strewn nights?
I am but your doll;
You toy with me till you've grown bored,
Or when you've had enough of playing God.
I don't want your pity.
If I did, I just need to sit around and look pretty
Until I forget about you.
I want to be a pretty hollow, pale porcelain.
The ocean calls for my departure
don't mourn these waves
I was destined to return just like King Arthur
Scribbled words on our skin
invisible ink tells of prophecies
and all the lives that have not been
Pulled the sword from the stone
Naive to think that we'd be crowned
but rather released an angry storm
These stories speak of hate and resentment
it flows much more effortlessly
so much pain in trying to be sentient
Still I will not give in to bitterness
I wait for the storm to pass
to return to sea and drown in bliss
Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life. *-Herman Hesse
This willow weeps for no one
It hears the mountain's tears
riding on the backs of slow waves
This willow knows
that the sun's silence
is understood by every atom
that soon the rocks will rise up and
They will wage a war against concrete
Soon the earth will heave a sigh of relief
and will resume feeding the willows that have
long ago stopped crying
I love willow trees and it's true, this one spoke to me. I'm simply its messenger.
the following quite quirky epistle may not exhibit the ordinary characteristics of poetry, but i decided to share this self made challenge (where every word begins with the letter "S" - no explanation can be offered why such self cerebral torture imposed, nor what motivated me to focus on the nineteenth letter of the english alphabet at the exclusion of other noble vowels and consonants.
Sunday September seventh started seemingly same since...silver screen show secured seventy seven SeventhSeals.
Soupy Sales supreme salient strengths (starring smart snarky sidekick Springer Spaniel Socrates same species sansSnoopy) salvaged sagging sporting sorties. Slap stick stereotypical swashbuckling shticks supplied shipshape shenanigans.
Spartan stage set spurred spontaneous simply stupefying solution. Suede shod schlemiel. Sartre seasoned scenes. Sharp sticks supported sphere. Seats situated semicircular semblance.
SPCA, Siemens, Sears sponsored soiree. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious shouted satirically 'specially Saturdays seemingly sellout. Spontaneous spritely Shogun Samurai sangroid stance satiated slipups stripping stellar seasoned Skidamarinks substitutes sacredly, seminally, silently, slipstreaming soulfully saving saga.
Sometimes silly spouse studiously sought spurious strategy stringing superlatives showcasing senseless sophomoric soporific skills specifically spelling storybook sassy sharpshooters supposedly sleuthing shapeless seated sideways (sic seasonal slate smug spotified snapchatting skippers selfishly scooped sloop-ful seasonal six-packs) sinister Swiss scalpers sat sometimes squatted.
Sirens sounded secretly securing source. Strait sacks swooshed scamps scaling sensitive sentries (simply spayed seals) surveying surrounding staked spy sotted sham semicircular slipshod shelter. Snappy, Snippy, Snoopy suited Skyhawks surprisingly swooped somnambulant senseless scriveners. Sargent Salemander slipped shiny shimmering shellacked Sheppards Shutterfly sidearms sized simulated small skyscraper slinky, soapy, spooky squarely summoned, sentenced, sacrificed see swarthy Samsonite satraps Section SpecialOps.
Sometime soon savior snuck stealthily stealing sinful schleppers. sundown syzygy saw serendipitous, surreptitious, surreptitious segue-way shuttled safely Scottish shoals. Stigmatization stayed steady. Supplication statements swatted. Sole survivor swiftly spun self shaming sesquipedalian soliloquy. Sea side serenade soon spewed solipsism saving Slim Shady.
Sayonara seminal surfer swirling scarily sans sinister serpentine silent space.
I am like an old willow
hoping you will notice me
that you'd want
to hold my embrace in yours
tree branch to flesh
compromising our nuances
like old friends
diving into each others
and seeking out the lit sun
in our eyes...
who's to say that the tree
is not sentient
maybe we are not tree enough
just seed thoughts
for a place to belong
a place worth settling for...
Trees are people too.
The amber noise of sunrise
the sable dead tonight
And in between a spectrum
of beings sentient
Accost the earth with myriad feet
pounding as a drum
A frantic beat of busyness
gild vestibule of mind
The love of a woman
Is paramount to life, as he breathes it
One must die to oneself
Before rapture takes over in copious amounts
Inside an embittered heart
Where a mind of morbid thoughts rely on
The earth revolving around its axle
As the soul seeps heaven lost to a physical realm
Forgotten are the languid moments
Of perfection not found in this land
Those only held in humankind
The act of freewill
Kills completion of mind, body and soul
Doomed to failure in a world controlled by greed
Supported by power hungry demons
Sent to diminish the goodness
We only find in our visions of Nirvana
We can only dream of such fulfillment
Until we cross over beyond a material world
Where eternal rest seems so inviting
Peace will bring equilibrium
Love will be of a higher quality
O sweetest death...
How I long for you
Is the true love we feel, even possible to live out in this life?
This appetite for you is insatiable
The piquant taboo of being together
I cannot explain why I feel this
Mindful opulent sentience
The drive of forbidden desires
On lonely street each day.
There is a light of ferocity
There in your anxious eyes
There’s a lull in the air.
You want to close off
How you feel in your heart
But, my love
There’s no need for your despair
There’s not a minute, hour, day or night
I don’t think of or feel you inside
Even if I shouldn’t be with you
There is a sense I could be
It seems to justify why
Being one is more than a feeling
Shouldn't we be alone this way?
I learn more about myself
I am so lost without you
You raise me up
Whenever I fall
You support me in all certainty
It’s hard to explain this connection
The reasons why we can’t turn away
We are in too deep to let it go
We have to dance through the fears.
The comfortable feeling of our life
Distracting by its security.
We found something that is real
The one thing worth taking a chance on
These dreams are not fleeting impulses
They are our guide to what we should do.
I need you because I love you
The music in our hearts will play
Today, tonight, forever and always