"aliviate" poems
Its gone
It's gone
It's all, gone..
The storm has once again, clouded out the Sun
In fear,
A vicious cycle full of many
Yet, I can't seem to find one..
One to vent
One to be my Heaven sent
One to find the beauty in my mess
One to aliviate the pain that dwells inside my chest
But I have waited..
Waited for that day
To come..
And when it does...
I will know
Like an Angel she will glow
They will awe at the beauty God bestowed, upon the earth
Frantically believing our Savior has returned
All will ponder, "Who is her?"
Thou shall say, "Her, is She."
A form
of the unknown
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
To my Turtledove in residense.(1)
The Almond Tree of my garden.
Hiding gently behind my hanging baskets,curious ,well aware
On this very fresh,pure and lucid morning,I guess you unaware
Was scouting around the blue sky,well perched quite proudly upon
The branches of my rich “Almond Tree”,loaded with fruits anon.
Gentle Turtledove, you and I are blessed to be sharing,in our bosoms
With pride and joy,this holy instant perfumed by the almond blossoms,
That feeling of bonding made me suddenly aware that we could all
Enjoy these moments of closeness with each of those around us all.
You would agree gentle Turtledove,that warmth is a skill,alike love,
For sure,and should be spread around and shared around with love.
Capacities for magic powers of tolerance,acceptance,understanding,
Are there,imbedded cautiously within our soul and heart,hearing
The multitude of suffrance,despair,and injustice,upon then we could
Move mountains,all obstacles against all odds.Lending a hand would
Aliviate pains and incertitutes,stretching our magic powers we could.
Thank you my Turtledove
Geneviève
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
We all know the cracks between them are temporary, from downing a handful of happy-candy and flowers with a swig of chamomile tea, how only closing their eyes softly and the paralyzation of their body, pulling them and their body down the rings of Saturn can aliviate the scent of their own fear fighting WW2 in their veins, and the sound of humming from the television with a shattered screen... or what we call the voices of people in a large, congested crowd.
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 10:06 PM UTC
Too jealous to justify
I earnestly belived I could capture
These ever passing moments in time
And as each one falls past my fingertips
As coarse words fall from my unkempt lips
I only find myself cursing
The lucky few, for whom words are never amiss
And am left still rehearsing
Searching for a way to capture bliss
Too depressive for my own good
And far too negative
Tortured? No
That might imply I can be understood
Lightweight?
That's a bit closer I suppose
I'd ask you to do it
If I thought you would
Overblown and borderline
Constantly finding ways to undermine
To my detriment
To retreat or to repent
Or keep going
Down this beaten path I did invent
Ages pass
Years fly by
Days crawl on till there's hardly any time
Finite and dwindling
Ever draining supply
I still can't find a way to aliviate what's on my mind.
Might as well keep writing down
The same thing
...
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 6:20 AM UTC