#zest
Awake, O’ heart, with zest aflame,
Let zeal arise and call thy name!
Unfurl thy wings, defy the night,
Let passion roar, let courage fight!
The world bows down where fires reveal
The boundless power of zest and zeal!
May 12
May 12, 2026 at 11:56 PM UTC
Happiness is transitory. Time slipped away in the blink of an eye. The plans we made, the dreams we've chased and the world we've built for ourselves crushed by the unforeseen event yet somewhere down the line it was expected that nothing remains the same. What stays the same at the end of the day is how true we stay to ourselves. To live life with owning our truth and story even if it means to walk on a journey alone.
Jun 2, 2025
Jun 2, 2025 at 3:12 PM UTC
Midnight encroaches like a Lion.
As Darkness swallows the Light.
Temperatures soar to new Heights,
on a Cold and Wintry Night.
She treated Me to Her Velvet Kisses,
and traced Her Lipstick on My Chest.
Her lofty Passions kept pouring.
On My Body, that was full of Zest.
I speared Her, with My Desires,
as She impaled Me, with Her Lust.
She Moaned away My Whispers,
at the end of every Golden ******
We woke up at Dawn, next Morning.
As the Sun showed up it's Head.
The Sun, was a bit jealous of Me.
Coz at Night, I had the Moon in Bed.
Jan 14, 2023
Jan 14, 2023 at 10:36 AM UTC
I'm a bit over the weather, really.
And last year's me may well have been
Rather under the weather, and nearly
Submerged by the deluge when it was seen
That beyond the grey was nothing:
I did not see far enough, and if I
Have seen further, it is because I
Once stood on the shoulders of giants. Nothing
To say I can't do it again, even if the ascent
Is easier said than done. Rather than a further descent,
Rather than the blocking of my sun, a sun that I
Have a right to as much as any and all that live,
I will embrace all, and thank even the rain, for I
Am really a bit over the weather, and ready to forgive.
Apr 28, 2022
Apr 28, 2022 at 5:28 PM UTC
i hunger for the zest of life – life at its fullest
i thirst for liberty – spreading my wings
i want to lose myself to this impulsive world of opportunity;
feeling the electricity beneath my feet.
vivere memento
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 8:40 AM UTC
My mother made lemon curd.
You could say it was her party trick.
Every year she’d make an enormous batch, and you’d have to grab a jar pretty quick.
The flavour, it was amazing!
Woke you up with a zap and a zing.
Not slept well or feeling a bit off? Have a spoonful of this and you’d sing.
The colour was spectacular, like pure sunshine in a jar.
And what made it all the more special was the lives it touched near and far.
You see, when people were given a jar of this, it touched a place deep inside.
Their lives went from grey and gloomy into lives filled with colour and pride.
They’d have it on toast or on porridge, far better than honey or jam.
I loved it turned into ice-cream, especially after eggs, chips and ham.
My mother had done this for a long time, left quite the legacy you see. Her first batch was made aged 11, her last at 103.
When her curd making days were over, and it was time to put her spoon away,
we gathered together to say goodbye, on a dull, grey and dismal kind of day.
The church was packed to the rafters, people remembered and laughed. Especially the vicar who adored her curd. He sometimes even ate it in the bath.
They all sang ‘Bring me sunshine’ as a tribute to my Mum and her spread. So here’s to her lemony goodness on crumpets, muffins or bread.
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 10:30 AM UTC
Thud, Thud, Thud, Thud
He trudges forward feet soaked in mud
Eats your brains, lips glossed with your blood
Sorry, that's not how this poem goes
He no longer heard the chirping of birds
The smell of the sea meant nothing to him
The colors of the sunset were black and white
He stared dead in the eye if someone tried to fight
She no longer tasted the richness of chocolate
She couldn't care less for beliefs or fate
Emotions were foreign and love was alien
Suicidal thoughts were a daily companion
Motivational quotes and speeches made him scoff
Rosy smells and scented candles made him cough
Fancy razors replaced money in her purse
The stick and light now made her feel worse
One foot in front of the other, their subconscious said
Their organs were sentient and worked at will
Consciousness, however, was a different story
For though parts moved, their minds lay still
They spoke without zest, like programmed robots
They made love without passion, out of habit
There was nothing to live for, no raison d'etre
They were sleeper cells, zombies on a clock
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
Walk Let Deep
the even down
walk the let even
on earth stars feel the death
with zest! your presence! some rests!
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 10:17 PM UTC
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ'✿⊱╮
Ginger nuts, melted butter
crunchy, sweet base chills
Lemons squeezed, zest grated
sugar, cream cheese, whisk!
Pale gold cream on base
Drizzle curd
Mmmh!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
Even the leaf was once beautiful
Until it fell of from its tree,
It was once full of life and zest
But now it just lies on the ground
Shredding piece by piece
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 10:13 AM UTC
After the storm, when the clouds are spiteful and vengeance has been taken
Breaking character at play practice for a moment of pure ecstasy and humor
Catching colds, leaving an imprint of sickness and annoyance on one's face
Dodging the curious stares of ex lovers with a feeling of relief
Envious emotions towards the summer when you're left with chills and bare trees
Frozen faces in shock of the aftermath of that day back in September
Gracious arms stretched open wide by a Savior who has nothing to hide
Helplessness left on the man alone in the street with nothing to eat
Ignorance comes with the guy who thinks he knows it all (but really knows little at all)
Jokes are thrown left and right coming straight for the girl in the corner who's feeling depression
Kindness shared between two strangers hopeful that soon they'll be more than that
Lovers share a softened gaze and a touch of hands producing electricity
Moms crying for their kids first day of school, tears of joy
Nasty boys with shallow minds give over everything they have thinking they have real "love" for the night
Open-minded people uniting in the world to feel a sense of community
Pretentious celebrities showing a carefree attitude for the camera, but heartbreak behind
Quaint and quiet simple minded people read their simple books and live in a state of simple happiness
Red cheeks flushed brighter than a firework in July
Static on the radio playing really low, a tune really slow, with a sad tone
Tucked in crop tops, high waisted jeans, & converse lending a helping hand with nostalgia for the 80s
Under said phrases and over said words shouted on the rooftop with remorse and bitterness
Vertigo left her in a state of constant anxiousness
Watery eyes dried by pruned fingers in the salt water pool mixed with salt water tears
X marking the spot where she caught him with her
Yellow, stained pages and the peaceful smell of antique books
Zealousness for life shone in her eyes, almost like a musician when their fingers brush calmly and excitedly over their instrument
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
when you learn to love
the bitter, sweet, and the bland
then life finds its zest
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
Whenever I see the sun beams break through the clouds and falling through my window, I think of love and happiness. I think of a picnic far away in a sunflower field that never seems to end. I imagine the feeling of running down a three-leaf clover lined path, that flourishes with the best of luck and never ends. I miss swinging on a tire swing during weather like this, as I did in my childhood. My mind digs for memories and people that I miss and love. I want them back, but I am not sad. The sun brings life into my dark room, bouncing off my walls and reflecting off of mirrors and glass surfaces. The sun, I have learned, brings happiness in its purest essence to all those who let it perforate them. Sunshine is a gift, a very happy gift. I wish I could capture this beautiful day and this beautiful sun in a mason jar. I would keep it forever; whenever things seemed most certainly dark, or the sun never seemed to shine, I would grab my jar of sunshine and allow it to thrive through me and make me happy. Beautiful days like this make me feel truly happy.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC