Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#molten
I really truly don't know     why some things under the     sun and sky   attract and catch my     fancy   Quite queerly they     happen to be   hot melting smelting     solids   that melt into exquisite     liquids.   Take for instance heated     liquid gold   molten glass or molten     brass   and to watch magma     'neath the earth's fold   Ooh, I love just about any     melting mass.     With similar bizarre     ecstasy and fascination   I like to watch  onscreen molten lava   Gliding in serpentine     turns, oblivious of my     admiration   Ah, I just love all that     golden molten mass .  Liquidised metal, liquid fire I just never ever tire   Sometimes I even have     such an eccentric craving   to watch just any solid     beauty melting smelting   that I satisfy this craving     by simply imagining   the honey to be some     liquid fire gold glowing     in a crystal clear jar and     liken it to   metallic gold syrup in     the furnace burning   As if it were stagnant     mini-lava   right before me churning !     As for other mesmeric     things   that I find real eye-   catching   are those which     everybody else finds     ravishing.   And they are in all shine, in heavenly mould and cast,   magical celestial stardust   or glittery terrestrial gold     dust   or dazzling diamond dust, in mankind's metallic     materialistic lust.!   Btw I am allergic to earthly   dust!:)
0
Aug 12, 2023
Aug 12, 2023 at 6:33 AM UTC
Molten marvels mania
I really truly don't know     why some things under the     sun and sky   attract and catch my     fancy   Quite queerly they     happen to be   hot melting smelting     solids   that melt into exquisite     liquids.   Take for instance heated     liquid gold   molten glass or molten     brass   and to watch magma     'neath the earth's fold   Ooh, I love just about any     melting mass.     With similar bizarre     ecstasy and fascination   I like to watch  onscreen molten lava   Gliding in serpentine     turns, oblivious of my     admiration   Ah, I just love all that     golden molten mass .  Liquidised metal, liquid fire I just never ever tire   Sometimes I even have     such an eccentric craving   to watch just any solid     beauty melting smelting   that I satisfy this craving     by simply imagining   the honey to be some     liquid fire gold glowing     in a crystal clear jar and     liken it to   metallic gold syrup in     the furnace burning   As if it were stagnant     mini-lava   right before me churning !     As for other mesmeric     things   that I find real eye-   catching   are those which     everybody else finds     ravishing.   And they are in all shine, in heavenly mould and cast,   magical celestial stardust   or glittery terrestrial gold     dust   or dazzling diamond dust, in mankind's metallic     materialistic lust.!   Btw I am allergic to earthly   dust!:)
Continue reading...
63
And the knowledge of the hedgerow plant, I found embedded in leaf veins ... like in mine, etched along blue lines of a notebook. In the ripples on the remnants of water that pooled, before the mudflats claimed them are the striations of  ol'butot near  Naivasha. His stories tell of caves, a gleaming obsidian of a pre historic introspection. Do forty day fasts suffice to exorcise the springs of sulphur or the forced baptism of a flash flood washing six souls to Hades ? The sun glinted at me through a narrowness of fate, a gorge of interminable seconds and I marvelled at the strata of time in a warp, for it blurted out a moan. Love spoke in nuanced layers of molten flow that crawled to stillness. Can I not say that stone speaks? A couple of hundred years back in time, self titled discoverers  had seen land that had not been unseen by the thousands who lived for thousands until then. So yes, the strata spoke to me, like the striations in the leaves and the lines that were everywhere telling stories of interminable seconds. Time grooves like a death valley in an engraving, etched like a memory of that which has never been, ripples on sand, circles on water,
0
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 10:49 AM UTC
Lasting Ripples
~for Woody’s pilgrimage, his exodus to Egypt~ I’m the mother of your maidenhead. I’m the widow engorged in Ganges flames, seeded, raised, in the coal pit born we were, first mined, sent cross country by red rusted freight car to the birth sac where we came~conceived. simple, your beginning, is our end, they could not never cut this cord tween us with an instrument of hardened steel, cause it was god-birthed in a steel furnace in the three river city, where we were molten formed, fired woman, fired man, too-blackened. you say come worship me, but I cannot, we are too samed; the flesh of metal, the black blood of a mountain seam, if we were to worship in our own imagery, a sin, of ten commandment status, not a trifling, imagine, a golden calf, an idol of our own making, what glorious fury’d consequential if I bent knee to love an undulating woman, a violation of volition, between us, there can be never, the tangential of free will. 11:18pm Sat Jul 11
0
Jul 11, 2020
Jul 11, 2020 at 11:31 PM UTC
woman says come worship me
___Stick girl embering, Lollipop meandering, Molten toffee trail.___
0
Jun 23, 2020
Jun 23, 2020 at 10:53 PM UTC
Frames Per Second
Scented by amorous reflections of the past I do not dare to go closer Often i repent about keeping it still A bearer of dreary hues that imprisons the now and drains its mirth The sojourn of that drape is coming to an end..... There will be a time that we'll stand above and laugh for the molten strands of the past
0
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC
The drape of past
Changes and grows and bores - The seasons, as fall does spring, Wishing for adventure and fun When life is repetitive boring, Wishing for dull and familiar When life is fast unpredictable, Discontent with the old taken New is wished for, thus craving This will be the human heart - Always wanting, always depart Of contentment, and always it Finds change and changing, yet Stills for a time enough to rest Makes way for the new but does Forget not the old and rusted, It finds, it claims, it renews, and It outgrows, rots, buries for new, This will be its gifted curse living Until its last very beat breathing Fickle, want, and sentimental, Human hearts as molten metal As forever shifting unto death Accursed gift of everlasting unrest.
0
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 7:05 PM UTC
Content?
Oh, Darling. You can’t fix yourself by breaking someone else. No, perhaps I can’t Love, But when the heat rises up in me. Making my skin glow, Lining the holes in me with molten gold, Perhaps I can burn them down. Raze their structured beliefs Until there’s nothing but choking thick ash. If something survives it is beautiful. If something new grows in that new fertile ground Then it is precious.
0
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 3:41 AM UTC
Razing
I want to kiss you Under a streetlamp at midnight And suffocate in Your molten breath.
0
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 1:57 PM UTC
Midnight Breath