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Paul Tito Jan 2017
The heart of one sublimates,
The solid love of youth,
It turns to air - thin and gone.
Reckless to refute.

All those years - turned away,
As if it never was.
The wasteful love, sublimates.
Gone as air but there.
I made this short poem during my chemistry class. We were discussing about sublimation and I got bored; so I made a poem to pass time. Hope you guys like it.
Jami Samson Sep 2013
Bleed before I eat,
I must make the carvings deep,
Then cram 'til they fade.
#33, sept.12.13
K Balachandran Feb 2015
Fire is in his eyes, in the pit of his belly and  *****,
a fire ball he is, zooming through the sky of desire,
the longing for her transforms in to a roaring fire
within him, it untiringly rages, slowly gets sublime

It warmed him, blood coursed in force through
the veins like a river full of molten lava, with a mind,
he was blazing his trail, with accelerating creative urge
lovers of beauty saw him as a firefly of high skies
brightening  vast expanses of inner sky, like none else did
she was the serendipitous spark lighted him thus
the fuel that propels, the 'anima' behind his phenomenal drive

He was burning to find a moment to commemorate,
this fire, his desire for her, not a bit less even after all these years
unexpectedly she appears, at the moment that thought occurred,
she smiled, it's radiance fell in to his psyche, froze as a golden idol,
Wasn't it what he desired? She getting etched as the spirit of a smile!
When I am most confused,
I can feel a profound sense of happiness,
Within debilitating sadness.
It is the sublimation of emotions.
Jodey Ross Oct 2014
My mind has been on a roller coaster of sublimation.
Turning to mush as I get called crazy.
Not doing any thing about it because I'm, quote, lazy.
Wishing I could turn back time.
Wishing they weren't so sublime.
Now I'm all alone in the nation.
Nothing left but sublimation.
leonard gorski Sep 2014
I paid homage to Beauty’s altar
Not conscious that is only skating-rink or…
“Downhill ecstasy.”
And still ignorant: how is possible,
Than good God leaving us at pray of Beauty,
Which paralyze those, who sacrifice own fate.
And I fell astonishment and grief
That life is a line of renunciation
Steady expose on suffering our tender senses.
Finally, punish that way: showing others suffering
Whereas ours are just sentimental tears…

Where is the Beauty
Which affect and same time sublimate ones?

Where is the place for
What fills our self
And leave deep inside emptiness …

Who’s going to judge this?

— The End —