#incarnate
Introduction
_____________
some words
chase you around
infiltrating and winking,
in emails and poems to
your attention dispatched
undeniably messaging
a wanting to be
realized, completed,
teasingly speaking
you know
a poem newly birthing
in your left brain,
tender pleading,
love me already,
just write me
like you would
make love to a woman!"
messages from others employ
the self-same word r e p e a t e d l y,
you start to get the hint
very very v i g o r o u s l y
the rumbling,
the back-seat tumbling,
you're driving
bipedal composing,
guitar and piano
gas and brake
pedals to the mettle,
and the speed limit
was 15 mph under
where your brain is fermenting
all tuning you up to
meet the guild's
product quality standards,
yet unlike an automobile,
a poem, like a life,
has a unique DNA,
cannot just be
recalled,
for repair
and additional tinkering,
jes' because
once it is out there,
it has been outed
sure enough in my
my "started but *** file,
a lazy layabout,
overlooked and undercooked,
the poem below,
a dabble and a muddle,
so ignored, so berefted
for so long
it got this
special introduction
by way of an apology....
Incarnate
She is my poem incarnate
She is the carne of my body
She is the innate of my soul
She is my woman incarnate
she is all I need
in form realized and invisible imagined,
angel and thank god,
devil as well...
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 11:06 AM UTC
Incarnate
She is
She is the carne of my body
She is the innate of my soul
She is my woman incarnate
she is all I need
in form realized and invisible imagined,
angel and thank god,
devil as well...
June 2014
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
Pale Though Her Eyes
by Michael R. Burch
Pale though her eyes,
her lips are scarlet
from drinking fresh blood,
this child, this harlot;
born of the night
and her heart, of darkness;
evil incarnate,
to dance so reckless;
dreaming of blood,
her fangs—white—baring;
revealing her lust,
and her eyes, pale, staring . . .
Published by Scarlett Memories, Les Felines, Bloodcroft, Vampire Cats and performed on YouTube by G. M. Danielson. Keywords/Tags: vampire, blood, red, lips, child, harlot, night, darkness, evil, incarnate, fangs, lust, pale, eyes
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 11:13 PM UTC
I incarnate into my unconscious parts: In a destroyed body, the spirit and the soul are resting undisturbed, and shining freely - but whoever loses one part of the conscious and the unconsciously conscious of Being, loses all - and with the flaming breath of the heart and soul immortal - since your lover speaks the true pearls of his mourning on the earth - while his swoon-like Orpheus wanders through the catacombs of the underworld: Never again have his last first encounter!
Will an independent being, like the superior Self, consciously survive if memory is not trapped in Alzheimer's? Only the One, only the Chosen One, born as a handcuffed, love-hungry convict, was born forever trying like Prometheus - could he be happy, perfectly agreed?
Otherwise, if our memory becomes a holey sack, it will become a soulless consciousness - you are nothing and you will be! You are aware of the sense of responsibility, only in the minute, eternal-One, and indestructible, in eternal collision, in the orderly transformation of oneself
is also a solid One. Moments of apathy, little bagels disappear; details, little details
- The rushed Time, like a sponge, as a hermetically sealed state, is timeless floating above me! And what I hardly need is the reason to sift and select! - The One, the One, the Eternal, and the True are hiding somewhere in the depths of the breathing things, lying down and lying low in the sun: You yourself lie down and swim in a non-touching consciousness: Sensual - you know - word and deeds the same way can spur!
The magic bombards this extraterrestrial miracle, shocking its throbbing nerves, and tune the Universe with seduction - The profound depths of Being are shivering unconsciously in every sigh of conscious volcanoes. And immersed in one another, dipped - but not as convicted, orphaned spirits, but as two innocents
gently sinners, relying on conscious forgiveness, while listening to each other's throbbing heartbeats - more and more!
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 2:48 AM UTC
Once
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
Once when her kisses were fire incarnate
and left in their imprint bright lipstick, and flame,
when her breath rose and fell over smoldering dunes,
leaving me listlessly sighing her name . . .
Once when her ******* were as pale, as beguiling,
as wan rivers of sand shedding heat like a mist,
when her words would at times softly, mildly rebuke me
all the while as her lips did more wildly insist . . .
Once when the thought of her echoed and whispered
through vast wastelands of need like a Bedouin chant,
I ached for the touch of her lips with such longing
that I vowed all my former vows to recant . . .
Once, only once, something bloomed, of a desiccate seed—
this implausible blossom her wild rains of kisses decreed.
Published by The Lyric, Writer’s Journal, Grassroots Poetry, Tucumcari Literary Journal, Unlikely Stories, Poetry Life & Times. Keywords/Tags: kisses, fire, incarnate, lipstick, dunes, ******* heat, lips, breath, sighs, passion, desire, lust, *** bachelorhood, recanted
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 3:14 AM UTC
A cat is mischief incarnate
from claws to whiskered nose.
He spreads his form indiscriminately
whenever and wherever he goes.
19% in his tail;
the sweeping fluff of doom.
23% in the wailing cries
that wake you in nighttime gloom.
8% in the claws and teeth
which teach the unwise to take care.
31% in the legs; carrying him
from disasters- he caused- everywhere.
19% in the eyes that direct
these ongoing rebuffs of fate:
surveying all that smacks of horror
in the humans who are always too late.
Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 3:10 AM UTC
the vicious fingers of the handmade glass doorknob
the hieroglyphic eyes of the mirror on the wall
the curious shriek of the crystal goblet
scratch my arm by surprise
slice my solitude
slash my blue simulacrum
I sever my self away
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 12:54 AM UTC
The night is dark, and full of terrors
So much dark days
Even the lights seem to struggle.
I heard there is a beast now lurking around
Even lovers don't seem to cuddle.
Plenteous scarcity of good
Amidst the abundance of evil.
Some heard:
"Thou shalt not do evil."
Others only need a Simon,
to let em know:
"That there is no beast in these shadows
No,
It's only the King of the Flies perching around
Atop a filthy desire to create evil among their kind.
Alas, they'd better know tho'
That that incarnate resides in us all
We'd better Recognize!
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 4:56 AM UTC
My love you are glowing from inside and outside as well
Please give me some space in your beauty just to dwell
You beauty is so glorious and I am totally under the spell
You are the supreme beauty of universe just let me tell
How can I pay tribute I do not know and have no words
My innocent emotions are hovering around you like birds
Book is yet to be opened still I am going through forewords
After tasting your beauty I have left behind all drunkards
Let my love go on a love date to understand ,reciprocate
My love is always straight and your beauty is so great
My enlightened light my heart solace and my soulmate
You are in me like my life and our souls are to incarnate
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 2:16 AM UTC
Yes, I am the same God
that dwells among you
Grace incarnate
again and again
in times and among peoples
various as the stars
if that mighty being
beyond all description
but experience
ever begat anything
it is but me,
me, love and grace
wherever the heart shrinks
and tyranny reigns
and lust and greed
masquerade as law
into that parched desert
do I descend, when
Jordan baptizes the soul
Ichthys of God, I make twelve
the anglers of fisherfolk
who cast their nets wide
and catch me in their soul
so they can behold
Him, that I am,
no greater miracle than this
was ever made
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 7:09 AM UTC
Your body is the temple I worship at,
your soul is the river in which I bathe, uncovering of your flowering mind of wondering that delicately hide away. Glistening in it's cave,
your eyes are the windows
that open for me.
Teleporting on a fresh flowing breeze,
one minute I'm earthly plane incarnate and in the next,
out of body celestial sea.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 6:04 AM UTC
My menorah is three-branched:
three the lamps that light my firmament
one, ineffable, more ancient than time
the other immanent,
and the third, the Lamb, incarnate love.
I drank of the them in a drop
of the tears the autumn sky shed.
Yea, I held a camphor to the skies.
An eternal flame, that
burns in the chamber of the heart
where I stand anointing the beloved's
feet in perfumed oil. This crimson eve
when the shadows return,
I kneel lost in the light of his love.
A silken stream from the unknown
that gushes silent in the creeks
of the heart, where I sit in gratitude
feeling the warmth in my palms.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC