"acquiescence" poems
The split personality which exists within us,
constantly battling for the spotlight of your mind,
feeding off your acquiescence to their imposing forces.
Beating like a drum at the sides of your skull.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
She sunk slowly southward, skimming my soul with sweet sighs,
Acutely aware of my amorous... appeal, I ached for her acquiescence,
Daring- Her; I- dazed: Delicately devouring my disheveled desire,
Leisurely lingering, her lips leaving lipstick licks and languor,
Yet it ended, and I yearned for you.
Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 5:56 PM UTC
"Run your pulse across my tongue
Pour your love into me
I thirst for you"......
Veils of gossamer silk
Spin in shades of night
Submissive acquiescence
Smoulders bare feet ...
Iridescence dances in captivated eyes,
Lips full
Releasing,
Breath
Licking the shimmer-gleam,
Anointing skin
Ravishing enchantment...
He trembles her heat
Scorching flesh wrapped bone;
Joining fantasies played against silky thighs
Arousing,
Capturing her allure;
Seductively
Manipulating the tenderness of her need ...
Night drips beauty from a silvern moon,
Nakedness meets
Open desire
Firm against softness
His lips seeking,
Tasting
Vanilla tears
Melting on his tongue like snowflakes
Touching passion's fire...
Fingertip moments
Pulsing rhythms;
Aching depths craving
Urgency
Sinking into moist folds
Undulating movements
Swollen, locked around a flowing pearl...
Mesmerising connections sparkle,
Thrusts
Gasp breathlessly,
Arching into body quivers;
Nails claw the spine
Symbolic...
She is
Weakness to his will........
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 4:18 PM UTC
Know this—I am well acquainted with the wolf,
Well versed in his ways, his demeanor,
His dispassionate relentlessness,
His pitiless focus on hunt and hunted,
His workaday disdain of pity.
There are those who would laud the mythical Spartan lad
Who hid the wolf beneath his cloak,
Affecting some gallant stoicism
As the beast consumed him without restraint,
But I say to you that is a mere romantic fallacy,
A wanton failure to apprehend the true moral.
I have learned that there is no accommodation,
No covenant to be reached with the wolf,
And any attempt to do so is merely to invite destruction,
And so I choose to engage him openly, without reservation,
Rolling tail-over-teacup in the streets,
Attempting to hold his jaws open with bare hands
While those who find such battle unseemly and uncouth
Jeer and hoot from porch and portico.
No matter, for I will continue to meet the cur on my terms,
For staid suffering in the hopes
Of reaching some accord with the beast
Is the not the act of the noble sage:
It is the mock heroics of the coward,
The sad acquiescence of the simpering fool.
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 2:02 PM UTC
After a great while the paper elephants march
In their sparse herd they lumber along
One by one, their thick legs slam into the earth
Like pennies on a timpani
Leaving slight imprints in the dust
No one is quite sure where they come from
All we know is they just are there
Some raise their children before witnessing the elephants
A lucky few will even see them a second time at the end of their lives
It is not uncommon for generations to pass without the paper elephants
Sometime the periods between their journeys are so long the elephants are dissolved into folktale
The paper elephants are bestowed an almost supernatural quality
The stories are birthed in secrecy between the lights of candles
In the ears of the men in the corner
From the hushed lips whispered in acquiescence.
Every story is different
Every story has the same ending
Every story has the same moral
You do not touch the paper elephants
Perhaps the stories have some truth
If anyone knows the validity they have been dead for quite some time
No matter, man’s superstitious nature will see to the protection of the elephants
The paper elephants are called “paper elephants” because it describes them quite nicely
From a distance they look just like normal elephants
Lumbering over from side to side
But their skin is like paper
Their essence is like paper
They travel together
Even the old and young
When it rains the young hide under the larger elephants
Lest they get wet and melt into the earth
It is not uncommon to find the soaked remains of an elder elephant
Crumpled by a sad consequence
It always serves as a reminder
The old exist to protect the young
Most likely the elephants can be found roaming through our graveyards
Here their pace noticeably slows down
Often enough, they can be found sitting next to a tombstone
Resting their trunks over the epitaphs
Strange things happen when the elephants are in the graveyards
Sometimes laughter can be heard
Sometimes sobbing
As the elephants rest the blue mist rises from the graves
The blue is the most reassuring shade
The misty fog rises and fills the entire yard
Until it is absorbed by the paper elephants
With a long sigh the elephants continue their journey
After many such stops
The elephants arrive at the tree
Gnarled and ancient, it welcomes the elephants with silence
As it has for years and years past
It is here the elephants have yearned to arrive
Under the knobs and strikes of its branches
They bend the knee
The young watch to learn
The adults look up to the sky
And release all that they carry
The hopes, dream, and memories of those long gone
Ascend to the heavens
The paper elephants collapse exhausted but content
And look upon their children one last time
They weep before leaving this world
Not for their children’s sorrow
But because there are no paper elephants to carry them to the next world
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC
The worst thing about abuse
is not so much the guilt
of feeling you're to blame
that you should never
have been so attractive
so irresistible, so seductive
though in all other contexts
you felt anything but,
were filled with doubt
and lacked self confidence
No, the worst thing of all
is the way that when
it's repeated enough times
you get used to it, inured
then in time there's a part
of you comes to welcome
that expected familiarity
need it even, participate,
share the other's pleasure
But the rest of you
rails against this
taking of your autonomy
this removal of consent
and that part wages war
upon the part that
gives it's acquiescence
and you are fractured
hating your complicity
despise that you made it
in any part your fault
Yet to have healing
requires you recognise
the part of you
that went along
was no more to blame
than the part that didn't
it was just a coping strategy
you needed to survive
after all what else
could you have done?
Cynthia Pauline Jones, 18/10/13
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 6:07 AM UTC
You weave your stories like the night,
stringing the moon with the stars;
the finest of pristine pearls,
threaded by twilight.
Weaving the finest Varanasi silk
with life as your celestial loom;
laying down gold- and silver-threaded brocade,
dormant gardens burst in bloom.
Your pen is the philosopher’s stone
turning lead hearts into gold;
manipulating structure in stunning stanzas,
inscribing on hearts in italics and bold.
Nodding in acquiescence
the sages of the ages,
will then add your magnum opus
to their papyraceous pages.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
Could you ever pretend to understand
living in a world that gave you no shelter
from the coarse wind of history
and the coarser rain of rhetoric?
The shambles of those walls offer no protection.
But, after all, they say
why do you need walls in the jungle?
No one has to tell you
out loud
that you were born
to be thrown away.
The ache of rotting teeth,
the feeble acquiescence
to raw sewage,
and the 400 dollar offer
to silence the poison in your veins.
They were loud enough.
I imagine there is a moment
between doorless stalls
and postless football fields,
where children, who grow like
wild daffodils,
see the other side of the bridge.
And then they know
until the end,
that it has always been
someone’s choice.
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 3:03 PM UTC
Anticipation
A gentle touch
A lingering kiss
Warm breath on skin
Growing excitement
Eager lips
An intimate caress
Acquiescence
Exhilaration
Heightened desire
Cloud nine
Seventh heaven
An arched back
A gasp
Pounding hearts
Sweaty bodies
Intoxicating pleasure
Blissful harmony
The pinnacle
Surrender
Satisfied
Exhausted
Sleepy
Jul 25, 2010
Jul 25, 2010 at 2:29 PM UTC
*
Collapse into the arms of destiny
Let them carry you wherever the wind blows
Do not resist, be pliant
Like the reed that sways
Trust that you will be guided
To that which is in season to your soul
Love speaks with one voice
Sometimes through the parting of different lips
Know that the displacement and nostalgia you feel
is but a memory and a foretelling of Home
Relief comes with surrender
The leaf knows this secret
it yields in acquiescence.
Take a moment and contemplate
the life of a leaf ~
Surrender is not defeat,
it traverses land far and wide
and arrives gently to its destination
Surrender is not weakness,
know your strength.
Your essence can move mountains
Transcend into a fragrance that casts its spell into the night
unbeknownst to the beholder from whence it comes
In your surrender is beauty
that draws you closer to the ultimate Beauty
and culminates in the ultimate Love
Love him, love her, and let your love permeate
like the scent of two roses, together in bloom
♥
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
649
Her Sweet turn to leave the Homestead
Came the Darker Way—
Carriages—Be Sure—and Guests—too—
But for Holiday
’Tis more pitiful Endeavor
Than did Loaded Sea
O’er the Curls attempt to caper
It had cast away—
Never Bride had such Assembling—
Never kinsmen kneeled
To salute so fair a Forehead—
Garland be indeed—
Fitter Feet—of Her before us—
Than whatever Brow
Art of Snow—or Trick of Lily
Possibly bestow
Of Her Father—Whoso ask Her—
He shall seek as high
As the Palm—that serve the Desert—
To obtain the Sky—
Distance—be Her only Motion—
If ’tis Nay—or Yes—
Acquiescence—or Demurral—
Whosoever guess—
He—must pass the Crystal Angle
That obscure Her face—
He—must have achieved in person
Equal Paradise—
2.4k
OH, TOLERANCE!
Imagine a world filled with various attributes of tolerance
The somewhat cheaply expensive substance
Exuding from the spirit of acceptance
Giving the assurance of living and interaction
Oh, tolerance!
Imagine the impending disaster or menace
Evidence of living in this world without tolerance
If we could reminisce the possible chaos of its absence
Then acknowledge the need to seek for its protection
Oh, tolerance!
Imagine a city filled with the fragrance of tolerance
The acquiescence of human coexistence
The aura of the essence of our existence
In a city of unity and strength
Oh, tolerance!
Remedy for our shortcomings and ignorance
Enhancing strength and resilience
Giving us evidence and endurance
To forge ahead and be hopeful that we can make progress
Oh, tolerance!
Antidote to our offences and weaknesses
Exuberance and mistakes
The consciousness that you are with us
Gives us reason to accommodate all and sundry
Oh, tolerance!
You romance our ego
Showing us reasons that we are not perfect
The remembrance of your tenets
Increases our stimulus for acceptance and coexistence
Oh, tolerance!
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 6:16 PM UTC
this isn't heartbreak,
no,
this is swollen
and there's a difference between the two
heartbreak is what you feel when
you get your heart broken
swollen is what happens when
you give too much of yourself away
and I do
too often
without thinking
I love
like everyone is dying
and my passion is the only thing that can save us
like the end of the world is coming
and all we have to save the human race
is my weakness
I care
like it is an alternative to breathing
and every available ounce of oxygen has gone missing
I give
like a one time supply
that thinks itself endless
like my limbs can regenerate without trying
like my lips are incapable of cracking
like my bones were made for splitting
I give
like if I were to empty out completely
I could still call myself whole
like I can auction off this body
and still refer to it as home
like I can hand out my vulnerability in pieces
and still have something for myself
this isn't heartbreak,
no,
nor is it swollen
this is a resignation
from my conscience
to my desperation
this is a reminder
for my own
to give all I have sparingly
and this is an apology
to my sanity
for when I don't listen
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
All my life
I was allowed to appreciate the world around me
But lacked the means to express how
I could speak of the fluttering of a starling’s wings
Lifting into the majesty of the sky
By stirring the air
But you would not understand
The loneliness they stir in me
I could describe the stature of the far-off mountain
The snow-ridden summit stark white
Vehement in its unyielding presence
But you would not see
The spark of vehemence I feel in its wake
I could illustrate the way the sun sinks behind the hills
Staining the clouds orange and pink
Causing a blanket of soft light to awaken the earth
But you would not recognize
The nostalgia it awakens in my tired soul
I could narrate your mannerisms with clarity
The gentle smiles and nervous fidgeting
Shyly nodding in mild acquiescence
But you would not notice
The utter joy that holds me under its sway
As you lull my heart with your words
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Oh to be courted.
It's somewhat like observing
The bird of paradise tidy up.
Immaculate his display, his stage.
He proceeds to dance.
Hopelessly invested. Commited
To his caper. To her acquiescence.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 6:33 AM UTC
I no longer try to impress
I digress
Hoping that what is left unspoken highlights significance
You could be completely faithless
I'd like to think there's some reason for my presence
You're far more simple than me
I foolishly try to win your appease
Even though I know you wish I'd praise on my knees
Your ego leaves you thinking you are godly
To me you reek of voluminous folly
I am left begging for acquiescence
Communications fail and lessen to flattery and Superficiality
I want you to love me
Though I cant be sure on my own behalf I'd implore the same
It doesn't feel like a game though I expect I am being played
I wont falter to your narcissistic ways
We fight until the passion leaves us in a haze
It makes me feel alive when I oppose you and gain such a stance
It beats watching the latest televised programs
If it came down to you or I
I'd surely die to save your life
That has to mean something
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 4:28 AM UTC
The yearning for Escape, a misinterpretation
Conception instigated from understanding
Unobtrusive acquiescence of unending comprehension
Thoughts explode in the blue and rain down
Lovely eruptions submerged in moonlight
Showering the spheres with a dazzling gleam
Deluging them with adoration and consideration
Illuminating the path to eternity
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
She was once a spirited soul
Trekking along all alone,
Many she crossed paths with;
Some left an impression on her
Some good some bad;
But no one stayed for long
But one friend or two,
Yet none of those that came and went
That walked away; crawled away
Or were kicked away,
Left without a searing pain in their body,
They felt the suffering of her loss
They would never forget this regret,
One day she found another
Who could not be chained down;
Who felt the ties but fought them;
Until even he fell but only on one knee,
He would walk alongside but not with her,
Because under her strong independence
Laid within a submissive acquiescence,
A heart longing to belong; and there was one
Who had the only key to her beating love,
And as she surrendered herself to him
The collector had finally been collected...
© okpoet
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 9:37 PM UTC
At times, the silence
feels as oppressive
as tar,
and just as dark.
When the family
members are gone,
be it to school or work
or wherever,
I take the opportunity
to let her out;
the little girl with
all the scars,
who lives inside…
of the walls,
in between the halls
of my very being.
She cautiously walks along,
quietly,
and finds her spot
among the shadows.
There, she can
taste her fears,
and cry her tears…
with no one the wiser,
no witness to be found,
except the very
walls and halls,
but they can hold
a secret,
or a confession,
with the utmost
discretion.
Standing at a distance,
I allow her her space…
space for expression,
respite from depression,
safety from oppression,
room for regression.
The clock keeps ticking;
it never slows or stops.
She knows the hour
will come for her to,
once again,
return to the place
in which only she
resides,
inside.
Holding on
(for dear life),
till the next chance
she’ll come out,
once again,
for an ever needed
escape
from the tempermental
holds of our
Reality.
-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 29 Jan 15
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
When one is in desperate need of sleep
With their minds churning out thoughts of upmost irrelevance
She is told, to simply count the sheep
If only the Sandman would possess such benevolence
I want only to collapse into a dreary heap
When one is desperate need of sleep
She is told, to simply count the sheep
In the waking hour of dawn, weary from Sandman's malevolence
Inexplicable panic begins to seep
With their minds churning out thoughts of upmost irrelevance
Sunshine caresses the houses steep
If only the Sandman would possess such benevolence
The neighborhood yawns, the birds begin to cheep
Night refuses an acquiescence
When one is in desperate need of sleep
I wish for once, Night and I will come to a complacence
Languid to the point where I will weep
She is told, to simply count the sheep
One wants a gloaming of reposing divulgence
With their minds churning out thoughts of upmost irrelevance
When one is in desperate need of sleep
She is told, to simply count the sheep.
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
It was taken without asking
Held without contempt
Moved by emotion
Stolen by a lover
It was abused in disguise
Bound tightly by fear
Rejected, unforgiven
Damaged by another
It was reclaimed at long last
Caged for its own safety
Clipped so it couldn't soar
Numbed by the experience
It was afraid to be free
Blindfolded by life
Relegated to dull existence
Content in acquiescence
It grew colder over time
Ignored and soon forgotten
Shriveled up and hard
Unnoticed and discarded
It was stumbled upon by grace
Warmed slowly by another
Held fast in times of trouble
Trying hard to be less guarded
Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 11:29 PM UTC
*My head swells,
with the words of wisdom,
implanted into my Cerebral Cortex.
Security Level:
Administrator.
The signal:
Never interrupted.
My hair;
my face;
my clothes.
My principal behaviour,
controlled.
My…
Volition;
Desire;
selection…
foretold,
by the scriptures of the box,
and the writings on the wall.
Ipods;
ipads;
mobile phones.
I need a new three piece suite,
so I’ve been told.
My head continues to swell,
to a monumental size,
and I feel my feet lift from the earth,
gently,
so gently…
lifting me to the skies.
As I float with acquiescence surrender,
over the roof tops of consumption,
I gaze at all the shadows;
their cadaverous minds.
Poor souls.
I continue on my journey;
my pilgrimage of enlightenment;
my odyssey of comprehension;
my voyage of realization.
Many miles pass,
and my head declines in size.
I start to lose altitude;
and I debark...
safe,
but with cleansed mind.
The view is humbling,
and as I look down,
I behold a flower.
I sit beside it.
I admire it.
A true example,
of Design.*
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 6:01 AM UTC
I’m in a relationship
with the man
working behind the counter
at the post office
though I have yet
to determine
the nature of our pairing
he asks me how I am
as if fumbling for words
on a first date
i reply quickly fine fine and you?
he nods disappointed by
my urgency
and half-hearted smile
moments pass in silence
as we chew on our respective entrees
he looks at me questioningly
i stare down at my phone
a slip of paper is issued
I sign it he counts out the money
I stare at his chest hair
instead of placing it on the
counter he carefully slips
the notes and coins
into my outstretched hand
for that singular tactile experience
before our time is up
his soft blue eyes
always expectant
impatiently drink of me
without my acquiescence until
I leave there
awkwardly drained
knowing that
he’s watching me go
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 11:13 AM UTC
Dark chocolate almond-covering
Red wine
Dark metaphors skybound hanging
Purple prose
Dark memories ephemerally teasing
White passion
Dark isolation stealthily choking
Blue acquiescence
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 4:06 PM UTC