#deepest
Sometimes the deepest love arrive without argument, without permission, without even making sense.
It enter quietly... and suddenly the whole season inside you changes.
6d ago
May 28, 2026 at 12:35 AM UTC
of the mind’s procreation of a birthing poem,
he crosses with no border guards attempting to
cease his stone skipping, mental skipping, poet,
he traverses in one fell swooping from state to state,
trying to keep upright upon the cloud breathing steed
he cannot control, from prone to full body grown he
hastens to scribble the words flying from his lobal
territories, putting + sputtering, too many fingerlings
wordbabies that an anonymous angel be spoon feeding him,
with nary losing any loosing notions to ether
disappearing, he scribbles with a singleton
fingertip to scribe the fluids aspilling from
his many extended eyes dripping, he begs
from his guiding engulfing inner spirited
muses loudly feuding, to allow the pace
of the onrushing race of the tidal waving
of jumbled tumbled alpha~infants all
bathing inside his steaming inconceiving,
slow down slowdown slowdown so
every creature be tethered into keeping,
but the pace so furious
with baited breaths still
streaming screaming while freshly still steaming,
his overhead overseers thinking into him;
too bad too bad you cannot
obtain a pardoning from this
red sea parting birthright of this
immaculate emasculating rushing fevered
over~heated messy sleep-dream-transcripting
realization you are in~living, leaping from your
uncon~trolled-we~trolled~innards
interweaving
this
this spasming creation from shouted
speaking, so poet falls back into the wetted
bed, rested and exhausted simultaneously,
ice skating from the firmaments unformed from
which he is now de-in-parts-party-ing, please please
show him
the aperture from which this cannotcannery to
escape, but master
god and his bemused ****** of muses laughing,
“you and all your possesses are ours, not yours!”
fool,
we take what we please from your vessel alisting,
now ours this embargoed cargo emptied, whispering
unto your inner ear quietly ringing,
we have what we wanted!
own what was yours! now ours!
from
you our new, old pet, and we say in unison of unity
this - this
human soulful excerpting exhumed,
now in our keeping,
this our newborn taken
and not dispatching
to you no backing,
No! No! no going to visit the
Desk of Un Rreturnable Shoplifted Presents,
with many ahumming hymn of many choruses
of
hallelujah amen amen and concluding selahs,
we lay you down naked body embalmed,
BUT your words to keep, now our exposition,
thefted-taking, and kiss your wide eyed lips to tight
shuddering shutting
closing; returning to you for the boring regularity
of 60 beats
of steadied breathing,
knowing
to you, we will be retuning upon
the morrow’s morning mourning mirroring
to take once more
without permission
again and a-gain,
your jumbling creative sparking,
as our rightful due of
gifted theiving, and with a final
shalom~adieu-bidaya~ alavida,
wipe your stat~of~slate into a recollection
of quiet
nothingness
we happy be returning whenever the master
says the timing is now, your creating, now ours,
until our next nexus of our re-forming re-turning…
finito
natty man,
what’s your is rightful ours,
and to your bed we now
you be returning
sans the comfort of
no words of
farewell we magic
disappearing
bye bye foolish person
but mannerly bid you
once more,
be seeing you again
very soon, swooning…
Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 2:50 AM UTC
She says she’s still here, but I feel the pause. Your body knows before your mind. She used to lean in – no thought, no fear. Now I’m aware of the distance before it’s even there, measuring the gap with my own worst nightmares.
I’ve been heavy lately. Hard to hold. I’ve been in a room with the curtains drawn, air heavy with tomorrow… Every sentence weighted by how tired I am waking myself up. A future shaped dread in every word.
I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t choose this either.
Someone who wakes up already tired for tomorrow. I worry I’m teaching her how to be sad… That loving me feels like carrying a storm that isn’t yours.
How hope desperately clings to my chest; that healing can be faster than leaving, that love will notice effort before it notices exhaustion
But I don’t blame her. I just want time; enough to remember how to be warm again, enough to prove that this version of me is not the only one that exists. And today, that hope – fragile, shaking – is what I hold onto so I don’t disappear before I get the chance to come back to myself.
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 10:31 AM UTC
victory within a moments reach
- each choice a path to take
ask the One who has your heart-
for love resides in your deepest wish.
Jan 13
Jan 13, 2026 at 10:05 AM UTC
Which is louder heart or head?
Why can I not ever decide?
Silence is my only answer
Solution I have yet to find
You create escape for yourself
Why did you not just say so?
Silence is the deepest cut
Worse than you letting me go
Feb 6, 2024
Feb 6, 2024 at 4:25 AM UTC
Love is not blind
Love has eyes
a face, heart and ability
to feel and touch
your deepest inner….
Accessible, not for everyone
like you, there is only one
i came, i saw nothing but i conquered
my fear phobia
mental inability
ego my person everything i do is ever
considered
i look in the mirror i am not there
can you tell me where i am
that i don't even know myself anymore?
My girl the name is Love
your sweetest place on earth
you know that like no other
it's worth the most to you
you travel in many countries
you have roamed everywhere on this globe
you will always find the same Country, i hope
My girl really doesn't know where that is?
take a look in the mirror
do you see that Country?
that Land is called Love
Love is not blind, has
a face, heart and ability
to know and know it
look longer in this mirror
you will see that Land rise
that Country where you stay in more often
than you ever expected
your deepest inner…..
©Sylvia Frances Chan
Jan 23, 2020
Jan 23, 2020 at 7:18 AM UTC
The Deepest Twist
<>
for my friends who know that when HP says this my 1300th
poem, it’s off the mark by hundreds; nonetheless
1300 is worthy number to celebrate your affections
nat
<>
***you return back my older children, fully grown,
my eldest word babies who never ever visit,
blessing them anew, lavishly, with special wishes
I,
take them,
with both hands, a reacquainting occurs,
the old words, deep twist, now hurtful hurt because
reimagining when and how easy they came to be birthed and
how the replication of that process is now a
practiced impossibility
how they burst forth, in purple majesty, wheat waving,
wholly formed, bathed in holy water, leaving no stretch marks,
only just an empty sac inside instantly needing,
needling me into auto-refilling right away
even the twenty four hour, hard deliveries,
long and arduous, were so easy created faust-fast,
that the errors of typography contained,
became lasting hall marks, iconic nomenclatures of
passionate loving-nonpareil
now, well past point of urgent addiction,
unlike then every glance, each sidewalk cracking,
lamppost shadow casting was
a sea story for a deep dive delving asap
I,
supplied answers for the internal badgering incessant
happy ****** need, mine, to go, spill the words,
cab or bus motion nursing them,
now they come slowly strolling,
semi-formed, needy, inconclusive, reused,
and feeling as trite as a cloth coat from an old thrift shop,
so wanting for tender loving care,
which is to provide when you are
four score
wondering how easy it was in prior times when inspiration
fell like a deciduous tree’s fall colorings gifts or
as little children’s nightly multitude variety of dream tales,
when whole worlds uncovered, nay, universes,
hidden between summers green grass blades,
or in unique snowflakes
the semi-forgot love affairs that parented poems
by the score of scarred orchestral scores,
now love circle-turn in holding patters in the
crowded skies above nyc,
awaiting for a trafficked man to give permissions
to “run-away”land that rarely is granted
once, poems in turbulent fluid born, noisy ripping of skin,
****** by the emitting of constant calming tenderous words,
wonderful drippings, so many multiple births in a moment,
even the OBGYN is complaining,
give other poets a chance at parenthood!
the awesome anger of human tragedy is now so shopworn
from over experience,
even god visits less and less, for it is written,
nothing new under the sun
though soon his annual visitors day approaches (Day of Atonement) and god will require new
words of human comforting,
a new poem acknowledging that being godlike
is god **** hard work,
for humans are annoyingly capable of incredulous kindness
how can one justify allowing unlacing acts of insane violence to tear
the hand stitched lacing fabric that’s ever ready
to bring us together in an instant elegiac joining
the truth is every one of todays poem are clawed,
shovel dug out from cavities and crevasses,
your new words of recognition of the oldies but goodies,
iron of irony, make it hard, hard, painful to write
without an epidural to numb the painful
dumbing down
when I am breaching my waters, I am hard to spot,
we ancient humpbacks live beneath the deep distanced,
cold waters for many more minutes
than we need surface for breathing,
the show-off fluking, less and less,
and when we birth,
every two years,
must bring the calf-poem to the surface instantly,
to breath, lest it die,
all the while repeating to ourselves:
what was miraculous writing is now nearly invisible,
to blinded fingers that arrhythmically cane tap,
words difficult to recall, recalculate, recalibrate
into a wholly poem
only the **** tears,
that same shameful violin permanent-accompaniment,
they laugh at me when now, they alone
come first quickest, all too easy,**
appearing nataurally,
without a formal
written
invitation
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 3:54 PM UTC
#
The most damaging and deceitful lies
are the ones we tell ourselves
#
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 2:51 PM UTC
her beauty
not to be captured,
nor lived,
but felt
in deepest devotion.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 4:56 PM UTC
I have tasted sweetness in this life;
Moments touching the deepest
Desires in my heart.
So intense I'd go through any knife
To dwell in such deep of a world
And know it is just the start.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
I fall into the deepest dream.
Hug by darkness, i give in.
Then by miracle i was torn
to be reborn.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 10:57 PM UTC
You call yourself ugly
But I would send you in ectasy so sky high
That'd you need life alert
Because you can't walk straight after our bonding
In the deepest hours of the night
Your muscles so tight
Don't let go
Let it flow
I want our closeness to grow
Don't be afraid to be vocal
It's paradise to me.
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 12:44 AM UTC
Lord, it is the deepest desire of my heart to be free from the sin of lust or, if not free, to be able to manage it so that I may better follow you, live for you, and love for you. I also pray that by doing this, I would be more receptive and aware and blessed ever more than you have so abundantly blessed me now. Please help me to be silent and at peace in my heart, mind, and soul so I can be open to your Holy Spirit and write what you speak to give glory to your name ad to build your kingdom here on Earth. Amen
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC
Your writing voice is the deepest possible reflection of who you are. The job of your voice is not to ****** or flatter or make well-shaped sentences. In your voice, your readers should be able to hear the contents of your mind, your heart, your soul.
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC
*The real question is not
“What will they do for me, once and when?”
But throughout the years
Throughout the struggle and the turmoil
Which is this human existence
I ask of you
“What instead have you been doing for them?”
To prepare yourself for this honest moment
In order to give something back
Instead of just having hallow words
To send and rescind
What then will you do?
When you finally understand?
And stand alongside this
The deepest realization known to man*
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 10:54 AM UTC
I used to find you sweet, cheeries and full of smiles.
But now you don't call me back even just the text, is it finally between us? like a foe, are we?
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 9:15 AM UTC
A
LOVE
SO
STRONG
THAT
PENETRATES
YOUR
VERY
SOUL,
REACHING
INTO
THE
DEEPEST
DARKEST
CORNERS
OF
YOUR
HEART
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 5:37 AM UTC
Into your mind
S h o w m e
Your deepest thoughts
F e e d m e
Your darkest lies
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 3:40 PM UTC
I’ve forgotten how the pine and spruce breathe the cold, crisp winter air with love, acceptance and lust fully and deeply into their being and send that very air into the needles of green, solid green, which shoot the cold out and shake off the snow only to bring new life.
I’ve forgotten how it feels to be among my friends from my home in the snow across the sea, all too far to be so close yet distant and welcoming.
I’ve forgotten the embraces outside in the cold winter air, the kisses beside roaring birch fires and the love beyond this loving world.
I’ve forgotten where you take me when all is melting, fading and changing away in an attempt to be more, more and more beautiful than that wonderful land is.
I’ve forgotten what a gift we have received; Peace and Love in Expanse; all we need, is it not? A place under the stars, in the grass, on a hill, in the North, away from the bustling busy bodies of the urbane. A place where time, matter stand still for eternity, and onwards. I miss such a place.
I’ve forgotten the warmth of our bodies, playing in the snow as the deer do leap and trot and briskly blunder through the woods of the deep, dark peace. We fall into each other’s arms and do not let go. The snow melts on our faces, mixing with sweat and tears.
I have forgotten the words, thank you, I adore you, I am so in love with you. Here they are. Said aloud for you. The ink bursts forth and declares them yours! til the end of infinity which is very far in the distance, perhaps never to be reached.
I have forgotten the deepest longing of my heart.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
My deepest fear isn't marriage, but the fear of marrying the wrong one. Hopes are high, heart beats a 100mph. Do I forget the lies, the cheating and all the betrayal? Do I pretend like the hurt never existed? Do I start over? Mind bobbled by so much. Please God show me a sign, or did I miss the sign? Have I been blinded all along? Questions are racing through my mind. Would it change after marriage? Would I have to go through the heartaches and pain? The lying and cheating? I'm supposed to be happy! I can't go into marriage like this. I need to clear mind, I need to get away. Let me think... is this what I really want?
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 2:03 AM UTC