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Spenser Bennett May 2016
In false light reflected we stare deeply into eyes the same.
Searching for Truth and finding ourselves shimmering cold over the still lake alone unflinching in the weight of eternity and her majestic indifference; blink.
A madness of heaven reaching through the water below to stir the silent sleeper of your soul, come forth from your depths and breathe the silk air you once knew.
All is glistening in the not so distant morning where the sun roars ancient and abysmal.
Where once Truth sighed heavy into shadow she will once more open like the lily seeking her sky born love.
Despair fades from eyes now clear blue like the sky and the rain washes away anger like dust from your kissed skin.
We blossom into light petals of ultra green and hyper white and dance as the joyous breeze allows.
Soon the darkness must fall again and we shall curl away to forgive the fallacious star that drowns out so many more.
False light will search us for the desperate Truth we hide.
A waking dream that danced on the edge of my eyes into the bright warmth of the sun.
With no argument I think most people agree
With the adage stating that, "you are what you eat"
But it's possible there's information not known
Having equal importance or maybe more so

All the nutrients eaten; We intake our food
It will travel through digestive tract once consumed
Same can also be said of our actions and thoughts
They're the building blocks making up all that we are

Brains are not like a rigid or fixed type machine
An old dog and new tricks go together it seems
Our plasticity will let us both change and shift
It makes pathways; New neural links over the rifts

These connections might possibly benefit us
But this same mechanism can also do stuff
With a negative scope, the outlook and belief
We might think we're no good; Our lives filled with much grief

If we're constantly saying things inside our heads
Like self-doubting, self-loathing and feelings of dread
Then our brain will re-wire to fit this outlook
Once ensconced in this spectrum; Not easily shook

The same way that a person engages with time
Like activity, also is true with the mind
A small change in the way that we look at ourselves
The new thoughts and beliefs in our mind start to meld

With the make-up within that each one of us holds
Self-beliefs and self-doubts from our birth till we're old
Like a painter with ink; Our brush never is dry
We are always creating what's in our mind's eye

So don't hinder yourself with a picture that's bleak
Just believe in yourself and go get what you seek
You are capable of so much more than you know
All it takes is belief and in time it will show
Written: November 20, 2018

All rights reserved.
[Anapestic Tetrameter format]
The uniVerse Jun 2018
Beauty lies bereft and bound
it cries for help but utters no sound
mascara kisses fade from your lips
etched by lovers worn fingertips
purple rings around sullen eyes
the broken skin it never lies
fists of thunder make not the man
nor the swift strike of back of hand
a thousand apologies can never repair
the displacement of a single hair
for she is not an object for you to own
she is a Queen that deserves a throne
and if she allows you to enter her chamber
it's also her decision if you should remain there.
her beauty is boundless
and cannot be tamed
all those who try
should be shamed

***** I have shared my poems on this website now since 2015 and this is my first daily, it has been a privilege and I appreciate all the lovely comments <3 *****

https://www.instagram.com/p/BpaxPgdFnQu/
v V v Jul 2018
I have been to where
the lonely go, and I’ve
seen their luring towers,
calling those who
have no hope, who come
from far away to see

if coming was a mistake.

Will we ever know
who doesn’t go?
and what of those that go
but remain unknown?
Perhaps they go at night.

The horror of it.

To not be able to see the end
but still it comes and quickly.
A silent floating moment
in a winter of regret,
a springtime of longing,
a summer of sunshine,
Or a fall to the end

of the world in 7 seconds.

A super cosmic collider of
meticulous destruction.

Whether we stay or go
its all the same,
multi-layered levels of
brokenness,
no one is immune.
No one is immune.

Some spend time putting
things back together,
the spacing in the levels allows it.
Others break over and over
and over again,
no space for repair

while the pull of the towers,
the flaming red towers and
the fog rolling down
from the west promise silence.

When I stood at the edge and looked over,
the noise was deafening.

The ones without space
cannot hear.
Un-Thrifting Essence, what of Loneliness
Allows the Hill across to bend and weep?
Who is to blame? Are you the Sorceress
Drawn to cast an Un-Witting Spell so deep?
These are all but Questions; If I may add
Failed on Writ, yet convenient to Subject
Here is the Adjective I thought I had
But the Spell did lie thus made to reject
My Immortal Covenant: To Keep you,
Dearest Talent; A Servant's Dud I make
Within a shadow shines a Brighter Hue,
A Promise I no longer will Forsake:
Though in Essence always revealed un-been
I am that Shadow never revealed un-seen.
#toniacouch
Jack Jenkins Jun 2016
"Hey, how are you you doing?"

"I'm doing okay..."

I'm okay because I cannot describe all the different ways I'm feeling apathetic.
And I give you that smile that hides all the hairline fractures in my heart.

Every wonderful longing is swallowed alive,
I'm transcending my emotional capacity to live and love.
All my cheer is shallow and without substance,
Naught more than a cooked marshmallow:
Sweet and crisp without any nourishment.

My wretched self allows me to suffer thus.
Isolated when never alone,
Alone when in true love,
Irreversibly broken,
Choking on my frozen dust.
//On anxiety//
Ezis Mar 2018
Social media
has ruined my life
my mom says it
was never like this
twenty-five years ago

You never saw
all your friends
hanging out without
you

Or the boy you like
be with someone else
or be caught in a lie

Social media lets lonely
people to act like they
aren’t lonely
and it allows people to
show off their lives
by hurting others

Show off your body
for all the old men
waiting behind a screen
instead of a tree in the park

Show off your friends
to the person you
left behind

Carry on all the
traditions that were
started way back
when they were
your friend

Watch your guy’s new girl
and see her photos with him
and imagine it was you

Social media
posting pictures
leaving comments
counting likes
has ruined more
friendships than
Instagram followers
I’ll ever have

It has ruined my life

And everyone allows it
Dan Hess Feb 2014
Happenstance to the melancholic gives leave the sin of pride.
Inbound reconnaissance tells not the bearer of influence.
Squeamish at first: a foreshadowing of calamitous bonding.

A space between the mark of corporeal and the ethereal; a stringent hiatus
That which rattles the concrete foundation of morality is scarcely a malleable recourse.
Regret stains the unfounded soul: an enigma of ephemeral perforations.

A separation of the unmitigated humanities; misandry topples the writhing snake.
Impact; a cleansing of the maker's flaws integrated solemnly.
Complacency arrests the administration of the abhorred; unbridled is the autonomy of a guru.  

Ambivalent giftedness burdens the reliant and haughty.
A flick of the tongue brings forth the cinema mortem.
Castaway: alone to wade in the sea of obscenities.

A temporal causality allows no mourning to abscond.
Negligence is not the enemy, but indulgent wrath.
Hesitant: a stroke of qualia begets the end of a maiden.
Landon Velasquez May 2014
I am not an old man
However
It is this body that is old
For I am as new as ever
As quick and as clever as my decomposing
mind allows me to be
"One lie weakens a thousand truths."

"Time heals, steals and reveals."

"Karma finishes what revenge neglects."

"The future is uncertain, but we play a part in its design."

"Help when you can, pray when you can't."

"If your life is out of focus, it's time to change the lens."

"Honesty is in the alcohol."

"The only thing better than a second chance is never needing one."

"Sometimes the most valuable company is yourself."

"Instincts over impulse, always."

"The greatest comeback is the one least expected."

"Fear is a light sleeper."

"You can't change the past, but it can change you."

"Some are born with a silver spoon, others with a pitchfork."

"Even the smallest of pebbles has its place in the sand."

"The humble voice resonates the loudest."

"Write your failures in pencil, your triumphs in ink."

"Scars speak every language."

"Two things you should always trust: your gut and your God."

"Every tear leaves something behind."

"Courage brings you to the fight, wisdom wins it."

"Relationships start and end, but the lucky ones get to begin again."

"The devil doubts. The angel accepts."

"Biggie makes you dance. Tupac makes you think."

"Justice is money green."

"The only thing better than good friends are lifelong ones."

"I'm in a fight with life and I'm losing on points."

"We are remembered for three things: the times we did good, the times we did bad and the times we did nothing."

"Every underdog wants to be top cat."

"Love never travels alone."

"Dreams reveal what thoughts conceal."

"The problem with the world is the wolves outnumber the sheep."

"You can't spell tragedy without rage."

"Focus on the valley and the hills will disappear."

"When you ignore pain, it ignores you."

"The past and future are distant cousins."

"Hope is always listening."

"Moonlight is for lovers and devils."

"Nothing will get you in better shape than a breakup."

"Time is a tattletale."

"Sometimes all that's left is a penny and a wish."

"There's a special place in heaven for those who suffer on earth."

"We are connected by smiles and tears."

"The mirror mimics what the mind imagines."

"If infidelity was a crime they would have to build more prisons."

"What the blind man sees, the sighted man seeks."

"The ego is a phony friend."

"Luck will take you as far as fate allows."

"Two things that never forget: elephants and broken hearts."

"My train of thought has no conductor."
Viridian Aug 2018
I like using fire as an analogy, a metaphor, the punchline for most of my poetry

I often describe the heart as if it were a hearth, while its beats were the heat it radiated

I see it—sometimes a roaring flame, often times a steady bonfire, other times a dying match.

It could scorch you if you aren't careful, but it also provides you warmth and light. A sort of clarity. Comfort.

It allows some of the toughest things on Earth to become malleable and mold itself into something new

It turns the bitter into sweet, the biting cold to teeth-sinking warm, the tasteless into delicious

It allows the spirit to soar with columns of smoke to the heavens while the body becomes fertilizer for daisies

It takes beauty, and burns it black and ash to the point of no recognition

Fire is so precious, and dangerous, and essential, and beautiful, and ****—just like this hearth of a heart

Tended and regulated well, it's the greatest discovery of mankind

Allowed to burn out quick, or spread out of control, then it's the accident that burned down London in 1666

I believe I should end this by saying: find someone who will tend to your hearth as if it were their last dying light, instead of a person who would simply roast marshmallows with forest fires
is this the part where i say that i'm a bit burnt out?
karin naude Nov 2013
a bad day does not mean a bad life
small insignificant victories by satan does not mean God is not present
look beyond the cracked window and see the glass is holding
God allows satan small victories to keeps us grounded on our knees
what amazing love, tough love to be correct

satan is a servant of his own ego
he hold no true power
except the power we give him over us
he has accomplished nothing, except a failed coo
we credit him
why do we not credit God alike?
betterdays Jun 20
miles mean nothing to a heart that is pure
words penned in grace, sent to ether
give heartease to the overstretched
sowing stiches of understanding
in tapestry threadbare

little suns and stars
shining bright in love and hope
from face unseen and adirondack chair
gives strength to one down, from down under
allows grief, the words needed the abilty to care
for these simple gifts, no payment required
from the heart open to care...
in response to a beautiful poem" the dirge of memory" gifted to me by Nat Lipstadt....one in a million..
sophia Aug 2018
and to you do i deem another one of these elongated rambles of words bowed down to us by gorgeous sundancers. dear true love, is it painful— that you fell from heaven carrying a satin piece of you coating me in your tempting warmth? i wish it weren’t; your response to pain is not what lavishes you to a perfect sunbeam but rather an all-knowing traveller. countless of letters have been shipped down from the bounty to your lost paradise; missing you, as if the clouds have taken you in the fastest they possibly could. now i would never understand how it feels to be held in close proximity again; with tenderness adjacent to a fairy’s whisper. but this open letter allows you to realise of the poetry living within your bones. that no matter how sturdy it takes for the fragility to break through, there will always be love residing. from me, in you. i’ll be waiting in mornings, holding the moon on my hand, standing on the wild grand on the universe that we’ll never compare to. but trust me, that’s what you are to me. you’re on top of everything else that comes to live and breathe.
Vicki Kralapp Jul 2013
I am dreaming of a love that allows me to be free,
to be myself and not be afraid of what life holds for me.
I've prayed for this so long, it seems I cannot quite recall
of a time when I was not alone and did not want it all.

I dreamt of a love to hold me close and stay through troubled times,
to make me feel like I was special and ease my troubled mind.
One who will make me feel secure despite advancing years,
a man who will hold a handkerchief and wipe away the tears.

It seems to me that this is not too much to ask one for,
to give me something that will last and not to look for more.
It cannot be that You have made me live this life alone,
for You have promised me another in life to make a home.

So please don't fail me now for my time is growing nigh.
For 'til now this life has given me just any plain old guy
Can You be called to give me a someone to give me hope
so that I can live my life with joy and love to help me cope?
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
If you cannot be outraged into disbelief
No matter how evil the matter reported
How can you believe in a Good God?
Do you not say to yourself what kind
Of a god allows this-Not Mine!  Does
A loving parent no matter how liberal
Ever knowingly allow his child to do
A grave injury to his fellow people?
I think not.  Freedom has its limits
That our true nature is grateful for.
Let me ask would you prefer that
There were no Holocaust deniers or
That there we no Holocaust.  I know
The Argument that we must Keep
Evil in our memory so as prevent it
Ever happening again.  How does
The saying go: No news is good news-
But it doesn't sell papers. I am not
Against fiction just glad that it is
Fiction.  But you say: What of the
Truth?  When Pilot asked Jesus
What is the the truth? Jesus made no
Answer except by His silence.  Yes
Silence is Golden. He did not answer
Neither should you or I.  I know this.
Bu we know in our hearts what Love
Would have  Be.  Thy Kingdom come
Thy will be done on Earth as in Heaven
That is Our prayers that it be so Forever
Oh God  Help Us to Lift up our hearts.


And When have we ever been prevented
From doing wrong by hearing about it
.its just
Plain wrong.
Cné Sep 2018

Each body part
sizzled in pure pleasure
in the blissed wake
of your oral efforts
brought forth the waves
of rapturous delight...

                                       Spurs poetic inspiration
                                        in equal liberation
                                        of desires to please.
                                        Bodies transpose
                                        in fluid motion
                                        as brazen eyes meet.

        Savor the voluptuous image before you.
        Indulge your eyes in my carnal halo
        before they roll to the back of your head.

On all fours
knees between your thighs
tips of swollen breast
caress your chest
tasting fresh honey
upon lips in a kiss.

                                        Ripples of ardor
                                         hover
                                         by wet trails
                                         of sensual kisses
                                         suckling towards
                                         the apex.

Breathe in
the slow motion pace
that pulsates eagerness
to the fore tumescing bulge
leaking with anticipation
of viscous lava.

        Tickles of silken hair
        against flesh edges closer.

Emerging subtle grumbles
in deep resonance
betray your impatience .
Hands tightly twine
in tangled hair
to maneuver
the treasure hunt.

                                         Licked lips pause
                                         at the sight of fire
                                         burning in
                                         glazed gazes
                                         before engulfing
                                         the throbbing member.

Plump ruby lips
greet velvety texture
in a slow deep dive.
Tongue curls around
the flavor
in a dulcet embrace.

                                         Moans release
                                         as grip tightens
                                         in my hair
                                         settles the
                                         rhythmic pace
                                         to taste in an
                                         oscillating dance.

        The masculine aroma of heady musk
        lingering there, arouses my appetite.

With my enthusiasm
attuned to
your preferred rhythm
suckling, slurping
surface and dive
in measured unison.

                                          Break of breath
                                          allows tongue
                                          freedom to roam below,
                                          licking, soft kissing
                                          the tender hammock
                                          of testicles.

        Tongue and lips escalate higher
        to mount another assaulting dive
        deeper in the depths
        of the cusp in cavity.

Wetted fingers
probe even lower
circling superficially
as gasp escapes
your heavy breath;
flaming eyes lock.

                                          Finger dips in
                                          with expert finesse
                                          gorging hardened growth
                                          within a wrapped hand.

Thighs tighten
with rocking grip.
Head thrusts onward,
drilling forward
in each dive.

        Salvia slips
        fingers grip
        lips dip

Engorged swell, flesh tightens in an intensity
of volcanic eruption ...

        HALTS
        assault

Pace retracts.
Loosened lips kiss tip.

“Soon sweetheart, your time will ***
inside me as we surrender to synergy."

Inspired by Multi Sumus' love...................................lust (act I) with my reciprocation in collaboration.

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2678968/lovelust-act-i/
Muted Jul 2018
i long for pleasant days.
days that feel like new beginnings,
days when i feel as if i am floating,
when each and every
fiber of my being
feels content with letting go,
tying loose ends,
shedding dead skin.
when my body no longer
feels unworthy of
occupying a space in this dimension,
when my brain no longer
allows toxicity to occupy a space
within it.
i long for moments of silence.
solace for my soul,
a place for the skeletons
in my closet to
rest their dust-covered heads.
i long for happy summers.
when i no longer fear
the thought of love.
when i no longer imagine love
as an **** ****,
devouring a flower bed.
when i no longer imagine you
resting in someone else's.
Corey Apr 2017
Religion has such power. It guides in a
certain direction while allowing the followers
to take on their own life. They are submissive
despite its controlling ways.

I worship you, and you worship the moon.

It has such control over you. It allows
your tides to rise and to fall. Yet, you are
not forced, you prefer to adhere
to it's gentle push and pull.

I have no religion but you.

Perhaps the moon is as unknowing of
its control over you, as you are unknowing
of your control over me. It is pleasant
to allow you control.

For you, I am tidal.
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