#lukewarm
salt —
something that used to be so essential,
is now commonplace.
love —
breath in motion,
formed a love potion, now attributed to “posts”, t-shirts — underwhelming things caught in crevices.
Nov 3, 2025
Nov 3, 2025 at 2:34 PM UTC
Have you ever tasted bittersweet?
Have you ever felt broken, incomplete?
Has life ever not been fair blue skies?
Have you always seen through complacent eyes?
Sometimes, comforting the grieving soul
It isn't easy, but you don't know
Seeing tears, you're repulsed and unsure
You'd rather argue than console
Sympathy was made for thee
Apathy thy familiarest treat
For your lukewarm meals I pity thee
Your have never tasted bittersweet.
May 18, 2024
May 18, 2024 at 11:34 PM UTC
I'm not the better half,
I'm not the worst either.
Not that we are equal or same
You are just the best and the worst,
The first and the last.
I just lie between those two extremes,
Never to surpass my lower and upper limits.
Have you wondered what average feels like?
What insignificant or common tastes like?
Always being at the buffering state,
Neither acid nor base,
Neither hot nor cold,
Just lukewarm.
No distinct shape or colour
Not white or black,
Just grey.
This is my state of mind at the moment!
Not evil, not good.
Just there,
Lost in the shadows of time and space.
Weren't we all born special?
Aren't we all perculiar?
Is this just my speciality?
Never to be specially special but to be specially normal.
Counted as part the masses.
Never in the spotlight,
But the one behind the spotlight.
Do you care to think of me?
Jack of all trades they say,
Master at none
It seems hard to understand my plight;
Difficult to comprehend the sight.
You look down on me from that height
And you say, "YOU MUST BE ALITTLE ALIGNED TO THE LEFT OR RIGHT"
Sep 16, 2020
Sep 16, 2020 at 7:10 AM UTC
I am a beat, I am a clock,
I am a rhythm of some sort;
I’m a carrier on a mission;
The byproduct of an invention;
A battery that is being charged
And depleted low and large.
I am a ball, I am a cell,
I am the will of higher selves;
I’m a layer of the kernel,
Flying on seat "57L";
I’m a letter that was sent to mail,
Set outbound when rings the bell.
I am a curve, I am twirl,
I am sustained motion still unfurled;
I’m necessity in the system;
Of absorption I am the emblem;
I’m a branch of fractal downward;
Of struggles past I ain't no award.
I am a beast, I am a fork,
I am a breach through inert soil;
I’m a head of the hydra snake;
Consolation in all of mistakes;
I’m the blood of the wounded,
The brain of memories faded.
I am a blink, I am a cause,
I am the storm after the pause;
I’m the pity for the angered;
Whose duties have been tempered.
I'm the eye that's about to drool
And the tooth that's bound to fool.
I am silver when I am gold,
Yes I am pale when I grow bold,
Like an etching on a clean surface
I'll be sanded just to be varnished;
I'm the most certain of prediction,
Foreseeable beyond provision.
I am ludicrous, I am lukewarm,
I am commitment amidst cold wars;
I’m the frontier around the form
And the earth that drowns the worm;
Of victory I am some defeat,
Accomplishment left incomplete.
I am a meter, I am a yard,
I am pain that causes no harm;
I'm the scepter of the peasant,
The suffering in the pleasant;
I'm everything that's ever been said,
All that's forgotten once it's been read.
I am a sin, yes I am sought,
I am a child yet to be mourned;
I’m resistance to the inevitable,
Recurrence of the unstable;
I’m the distance of departures,
The first minutes of final hours.
I am a beat, I am a clock,
I am a rhythm of some sort;
I’m a carrier on a mission,
The byproduct of an invention;
A battery that is being charged
And depleted low and large.
Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 1:26 PM UTC
I am 2 persons in one body
I pray to God and I hate the church
I love myself and I hate my neighbor
I pray for the sick and I **** with my tongue
I am 2 persons in one body
I am a Christian and secret sin is my hobby
I work in the church and refuse duties at home
I respect the pastor and despise my parents
I am 2 persons in one body
different personalities I portray
you can summon the one you want
whenever you need it. Hot or Cold.
I am 2 in 1.
Rejibudu
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 11:47 AM UTC
lukewarm freckles berade my skin
like soldiers to the sea
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 11:35 AM UTC
I don’t feel too much,
of anything really.
I’m not really sad,
haven’t cried in a while.
I’m not really happy,
never getting excited.
Body and mind just living,
zoned out not focusing.
A human surviving,
but never enjoying life.
Not quite numb,
not yet anyways.
I don’t want that point to come,
but what can I do?
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
*I take occasional sips
from my favorite mug that
I've poured chamomile tea into.
It's strange how we
change through the years.
When I was younger I hated
chamomile tea, since my mum
made it when I was sick.
But now, it's one of my favorites.
I guess my soul is sickened of the
mundane world I live in,
and it needs something to
clam it down.*
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 3:13 AM UTC
Our eyes met
Like magnets
Drawn in from a distance.
The way the beam from a lighthouse
Draws the attention of sailors.
Your gaze was instantly familiar
Like waking up to the smell of coffee
Or coming home from a storm.
Simultaneously bringing bright flashes
Of welcoming warmth and excitement.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 1:53 AM UTC
Mild and right,
Just between 212 and 32 degrees Fahrenheit.
With temperate steam,
Giving off a little gleam.
Won't have you scalded,
Won't ever turn frigid.
Won't let you sink,
Will buoy you up when you're on the brink.
Although lukewarm,
Still the farthest thing from numb.
Never half-hearted;
Always spirited.
And I hope as you flow,
Your uniqueness, you won't forget to show.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 12:24 AM UTC
As my feelings for you blossom
Not into a warm sun-kissed flower of summer
But into a snowflake of cold and bitter winter
I see myself regretting, for you are a possum
An actor of sorts with a lukewarm feeling
A half-baked maniacal schemer
A specter conjured from hell yonder
And the person in which I had a one-sided loving
My hate for thee grows tenfold
It grows tenfold the times my love for you
It grows tenfold the tears I shed for you
It grows tenfold on every **** you told
And as my fire you left started to die
I will rise again as the ashes fly
I will move forward and not look back
I will swear onward and fight hate back
But...I see myself also in that lie
For this heart, no matter how shattered and dry
A paper thin husk of a once healthy guy
Deep inside it...my feelings for you won't die
No matter how hard I drench it with freezing water
No matter how long I submerge below a glacier
No matter how many girls and guys, I encounter
No matter how many flings and flirts, it's still a disaster
For no matter how lukewarm my feelings are for you
An actor of sorts like a lying possum
Inside the hollow echoing halls of my *****
It still and will not die out just for you
That little cinder, a tiny spark of hope
Keeping me warm enough to cope
That no matter how lukewarm it gets...
In this lonely winter, the warmth of you I'll never forget...
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 4:41 AM UTC
Brownout
A not too loud explosion pierced the quiet hours
..................immediately after......lights went out
Twelve midnight, and two minutes later
there gently blew, a whiff of cool air,
brushed past my cheeks and shoulders
but...that was it
Every hot, humid second of every burning minute
took too long to get out of my sweating body
the heat seemed stationary
in the stillness of this limited territory
Lukewarm water
flowed out of the shower
being wet.......was brief
it didn't bring much relief
It was cooler....out at the verandah
but mosquitoes are more active in the dark
the flickering candlelight
teased them all the more, this moonless night
This should be a good time
to ponder........to write
but my head feels limited...empty
swelling with something else, that is chilly
this silent.........uptight
uncomfortable summer night
...the hours, consumed with blight
a disappointment outright...
just waiting....for my eyes to give in
no longer defying,
but surrendering,
to the hot...humid
dark wee hours of the morning.
Sally
Copyright May 12, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
This dismal face softens
And flushes with just a touch
Of life.
Turmoil broke like a fever
And trickles of security
Bled through the cracks.
I lit a lamp instead of sitting
Here in the darkness I've become
So accustomed to.
Lukewarm light isn't much
But it's enough to go on.
My heart never stopped but now
It's beating with a purpose.
Not one of affection,
Not one of intimacy,
But for the pursuit of living
I've been putting off for so long.
Maybe I'm fine. Maybe everything's fine.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
I'm only lukewarm, marginally mediocre.
Not quite laid-back enough to be considered cool
Nor adequately exciting for red hot.
Just going by, average, as a rule.
I'm much too old to be reckless and immature,
Yet not as old as wisdom and a good war story.
Not so rich to live out luxurious abandon
but far too rich to be tragically sorry.
I'm unremarkable, uneventful, uninteresting,
Uncool and unattractive, unfit and unaware.
I assume I'm just not- I'm everything 'un' already,
A stale glass of water, gone oddly warm in stagnant air
I am lukewarm, at best.
Perhaps some day I'll be blast frozen
Or I had once been boiled hot.
For now though, there are no cubes of ice
That I can swallow and be more than not.
I am the everyday masses, lost in the throng,
The not-particularly-bright, non-slacker, no-name brands
That believe they're not good enough- or quite the sharpest prong.
We, the herd lost in the middle bench lands-
We're wild and we're sober,
Frightened and unafraid.
We're nothing like you, but we're just the same.
But we, the ones who spend our lives
In the middle bench,
will be alright.
We can persevere, we can.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
I am not drowning in fear or happiness,
rather sitting in a lukewarm bath
of tremendous want
that you drew for me.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
Eyes of glass, in the ocean, deep and blue.
Like fabric of white-
worn to grey.
No where in this world are there people to shiver,
yet the people, we live without day.
No morn' to see.
No rooster to crow.
No light to show our way,
yet we as humans',
lives continue,
while our mother's love makes us okay.
There be..
there be..
moonlight..
dear be..
lukewarm water,
so in which it sway.
If I may run,
I may yonder,
for I'm a mere symbol,
a minnow.
To which will force up ponder,
if rather or not,
the fishy is gay.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC