"alludes" poems
In your vision you are the only thing with bloodshot eyes.
You always wear a robe
that speaks seven languages... and a bank of fog is at your feet
nipping at your naked heel.
In your vision you remember how your arms feel in sunshine.
It is intense.
Your can-opener is hissing an etude
that alludes to wise men...
who bathe in miracles
and roam the world,
untarnished in Poverty.
Your can-opener whispers in hush tones
about barbarians at the gate. And they say
' they've come for the Linen ! '
You are not deceived.
In your vision you are the only thing that can backward engineer
a Universe.
On your way back to the homeland of your algebra
you hesitate. “ you may have left your keys in your Other Robe...”
The Robe that hallucinates constantly~ Carrying on about
' The dire consequences of leaving terrycloth alone with the keys '
and, afflicted with Prophesy Tourettes
the piteous tide of doom ' sayeth the robe '
you must suffer.
In your vision, you are the only one
looking for the keys.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 5:09 PM UTC
Ruler of beauty
Grace as a dove
Thy name Aphrodite
Goddess of love
Power to sway
Thy lustful mind
Ability to lure
Man of every kind
Appealing charm
Equal summers rose
Thou pleasant aroma
Could make all man doze
****** attraction
Alludes all thy wants
Goddess so elegant
Created thy flaunts
One defect slays
Aphrodite soul within
Profound jealousy for
Psyche thy alleged twin
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
…These men are worth your tears:
You are not worth their merriment.
-Wilfred Owen, “Apologia Pro Poemate Meo”
When that loudmouth on the wireless machine
Alludes to Western Civilization
What does he mean? Paradise Lost? Probably not
Nor Saint Paul speaking on the Field of Mars
The Kalevala, Hagia Sophia
With its pendentives lifting up our prayers
Horatius fighting to defend his bridge
And Wilfred Owen dying bravely on his
Lord Tennyson and Idylls of the King
Chapultepec, Henry V, Becket
The paratroops at Arnhem, Saint Thomas More,
His King’s loyal servant, but God’s first
The Stray Dog poets of Saint Petersburg
The brave last stand of Roland at Roncesvalles
Lewis and Tolkien and glasses of beer
Montcalm and Wolfe on the Plains of Abraham
Hildegard von Bingen, Siegfried and the Rhine
Magna Carta, HMS Hood, the Thames
The Grove of Daphne, “The Old Rugged Cross”
Beatrix Potter and her little pet rabbit
El Cid, Anne Frank, John Keats, Saint Benedict
“I Have a Dream,” Dostoyevsky, and Greene
Viktor Frankl, Dag Hammarkskjold, and Proust
Good Chaucer’s naughty pilgrims telling tales
The Gettysburg Address, Willie and Joe
Stern Saint Augustine of North Africa
Wodehouse writing a jolly bit of fun
Saint Corbinian and Bavaria
The ancient glories of Byzantium
Pius XII contra the bombs and lies
The 602nd TD Battalion
Saint Joan, the Prado, and Robert Frost
And far, far more.
When that loudmouth on the wireless machine
Alludes to Western Civilization
What does he mean?
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 4:06 PM UTC
We live in a society were the physical world shadows the metaphysical.
We live in a society were money precedes life.
Students are broke(n) like the loans that imprison them.
Death and taxes are inevitable, but it seems that taxes are more of a threat then death itself.
The greenback alludes us into becoming vicious consumers praying on the wealth of others.
We live in a society turned upside down. Broke(n).
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 6:06 PM UTC
I. Apply foundation in a tone more perfect than the one you're born with,
doubt that there's anything beautiful in the term "natural"
blot your lips with the cherries you deprive yourself of
and wonder, "What good is difference when it's not appreciated?"
stop reading this.
II. Forget how you were born;
every freckle,
every beauty mark,
every uneven line etched into your face are nothing to be celebrated.
Deprecate yourself, you are unwound and beg this world to shape you in its eyes.
skip this line.
Society speaks subjectively of happiness, but fill your head with lies
that we're all pretty if we can keep up our disguise.
The weight of this world upon your shoulders,
alludes to being big as too much to handle.
Curl into everyone's palm as if you're so fragile,
they have to pinch the skin on your bones with the thumb and index finger.
stop.
III. Draw on the perfectly plump pout, filled with nothing but
expectations of everyone else.
Your beauty is not a privilege for anyone,
but judgment that has defined your worth.
skip.
Emprises that market upon your insecurities,
admire that solemn face in the mirror
as the reflection discourages you
at the acknowledgement of any impurities
Start.
How To Be Beautiful Lifelong
Admire the history that lives within the heartlines of your palms,
how strong you've grown, once cradled in your mother's arms.
Disregard where it is you've come from, but how much further you've journeyed forward.
I. Apply the sincerity in your best friend's voice when
she calls the time you've spent together, beautiful.
Do not doubt the splendor that comes from wisdom.
II. Every wrinkle you've earned,
as time gives back to you from lessons learned.
Blot your lips during the release of laughter
as saliva mists through the air,
your joy so vigorous
the ghosts residing in the graves
regret no more.
You are as you should be,
a composite of everything that gives you life
and grants you purpose.
Begging for this world to love you,
there is no fault in this desire.
They speak of happiness as if
it's only a potential-oriented concept,
Do not let your heart surround the gossip
or it's golden armor become bronzed.
III. Draw on the canvas of existence
in the brightest of hues, in the purest of love.
Filled with nothing, but expecations for yourself
say farewell to the darkness
open the curtains to light.
Your beauty is magnificent
as your name will be transcendent.
In each day we decide to be ourselves,
the poise presents itself.
—V.H.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC
I am so proud to announce my new cookbook
The Four Seasons
Let's cook, lets sing and shout
have fun with each recipe no doubt
oh I so hungry I have went all out
oh my I hope there is no drought...
I need my herbs thats in my garden
so please I cry let it rain, don't let it harden
oh yes dear Lord give me a pardon
where my veggies can grow but not random .....
To make all our foods
so delicious that they include
the best tastes that concludes
our hearts and stomachs so happy to alludes.....
Debbie Brooks 2014
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
A live to every push and shove
B reathing each and every toxin
C aring not for those awake
D ead to insults from mankind
E lecting to run and hide
F rigid walls are formed
G uiding us to isolation
H umanity smells of lies
I nstinct guards our very souls
J ustice no longer exists
K indly acts evaporated
L iving in this city
M anages to make me numb
N early every feeling gone
O nly existing to revenge
P eople who have harmed me
Q uiet forever alludes
R ansacked dreams haunt me
S treaming lights and screams
T ake hold of my mind
U pon these crowded streets
V iolence becomes a way of life
W here can I go to die
X enophobic people in large numbers
Y oung and old alike
Z ero chance that I'll survive
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 7:57 PM UTC
You enter into the neighbor's room, clenching a knife cutting the morning light across the room. You are moving surreptitiously.
There is a colour on the knife. It's colour reflects an image of you upon it. You look down at your body, and notice the colour reflects there too.
You notice there are two people around you, a male and a female, and their colour is yours too.
You taste the colour of death on your tongue, you share the taste with the people in the room.
You share it with the knife, you share it with the floor, you share it with all the neighbor's next door.
You followed them home, to share the colour with them..
The colour alludes you, it brings you a high. You like how it tastes to die.
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 8:21 PM UTC
I draw my sword and brace my shield,
like a shining knight armored in the shining night,
I ascend the peaks of hearts.
Battling now only the weight that which I believe protects me,
I slowly shed myself to bear the journey that lies ahead..
One piece at time my armor falls to the ground,
risking abrasions and damage delt in future waging hearts.
I soon become naked of all but the plate that hides my chest..
As I search through the valleys,
deep in the crest,
I feel it's beating.
Warmth soon takes me, leading me to it.
With each hopeful stride of my double edged sword,
I find I'm only slaying shadows of demons that once dwelt within.
As each war's waged my heart becomes exposed and weary through what once protected it.
Soon I find myself faced at the entrance,
as I slowly descend down jagged and torn pieces,
I feel the raging heat of it's breath burning and searing flames engulfing me,
I feel it all around me.
I place my shield overhead, hoping it's truth protects me.
Then I lunge,
swinging right then left using the weight of the sword that once hindered,
striking only cavern walls, it seemingly alludes me.
Remembering stories of those before,
I begin to hold doubt and realize through past pains this dragon won't be slayed let alone captured,
I'm only battling myself.
As my journey comes to an end I turn,
I suddenly see it, staring directly into it,
I see it's no beast at all.
I know in that moment,
I'm nothing more than consumed by hopes of what already lives within,
and blinded by what was expected.
This dragon that I chase (love), has alredy slayed me.
Oct 13, 2011
Oct 13, 2011 at 10:06 PM UTC
with all wistfully whispered through the illusions
that reflect against one another to make this life
each breath exhaled alludes to confusion
we take what we get to build shields against strife
one step further is one step out
trapped in a world of backs and ins
we know not what we are but what we're taught
time not a straight line but cyclical beginnings and ends
wrapped in endless beginnings again
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
Let’s Carapace Ourselves
For William Gipson
William alluded to the dry bones of grammar
And I wondered why no one ever alludes
To the dry exoskeleton of anything -
Equal justice for all carapaces!
Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 8:21 PM UTC
normality isn’t the same as the chaos we evade.
The truth is, normality alludes us,
we are formed beyond our minds declination.
Somebody stole my freedom,
using outside of the box thinking,
in your mind and mind.
And I was minding my business,
just trying to take my own sweet time, again.
and deja vu came through the window, again.
the repetition of the rain
cool calm and collected,
the pain subsides,
when i lived in my hiding place
and the raindrops made the gutters flow.
obviously,
yet never expected;
is it you? is it true?
the juxtaposition of you.
but they stole our souls before they attacked the weakened body.
We didn’t hear them coming through the car crash TV;
Are you and I the zombies?
Is your mind in control,
do you mind if they take control,
or do you not mind at all?
When the mask falls the I hide behind isn’t alien in dreams.
not who i saw in the soul.
is it true, deja vu.
so benign in idyllic lies,
a million miles away.
tribes hide behind nothing but a little something to be unique,
maybe a little something else
to be discreet.
But other than that,
food and air,
and company.
there’s not much else we need.
Make up?
Make up your mind -
who decided who you needed to be
it certainly wasn’t you.
Lost in the illusion of choice,
like deja vu,
like Descartes knew,
in collusion with the muse of normality,
by what is true to you,
not actually the truth.
it’s the perfect ephiany in alliance with deja vu.
but what came first ?
my mind, or yours,
through closed doors of inspection;
deception - they let them tell them.
inception - they let them tell them
And I know this fact to be true,
because I’ve seen you in dreams before
and I couldn’t believe my eyes;
or change my view.
I couldn’t believe it was you,
deja vu,
deja vu.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 10:39 AM UTC
Happiness is not far; yet not too close
The wind whips by, like a chilling ghost
Every thought and every action stands idly by
Until the violent rupture stares me in the eye.
Happiness teases in the most displeasing way
It tricks and alludes in all the common ways
Although your eyes; they cannot see
For it deceives, both you and me
Happiness is a fallacy; this is all that is true
You cannot depend, on anyone but you
You mustn't cry at the alterations
Focus only on, your narration.
Oct 29, 2011
Oct 29, 2011 at 10:34 PM UTC
It plays with our eyes
It messes with our vision
It lies to our minds
It alludes to something....
....But becomes something else
It is our mental test, the optical illusion
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
My heart beats fast, in a cryptic time scale,
Shiva's hand drum that accompanies her speech,
she is a poet of handcrafted words, rough cut diamonds,
she alludes, suggests, gives vague hints, eludes from traps
oh! how so so exquisite, her veiled references!
She makes my soft center melt, it's now a chocolate fudge-
the color of blood, would she take it? I yearn so deep,
the art of concealment, attains a new life with her,
I am baffled, yet mighty pleased, the kids delighted,
She behaves the way nature does, in an intuitive flash-
I reach out to grab the key to the core of this union;
she is nature; quickly her cloudy sky clears,
with the peep of sunshine, she is pleased, then
in the afternoon, I see a sprinkling rain, magical!
with eyes filled with curious light, I watch her,
Now I understand her, learn to love her deep,
her gentle changing moods that walk with the moon,
not for nothing, I liken my only love to a dreamer,
not a poet, but rhapsody in her nature, pure rapture.
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 1:31 PM UTC
The language of Los Angeles
gets lost in translation.
Even the rain clouds
drop their contents
with an unfamiliar accent.
The peculiar way
she tilts her head,
the distinct way
she crosses her legs,
are every bit incorrect.
The uninvolved way
she sits, steps, speaks,
alludes to her lack
of the irrepressible nature
surrounding her day.
"The rest is rust
and stardust."
She is quite
American.
There is no turning of the shadow
under a European sun.
The silence of her heart,
the stillness in her limbs,
is barren, muted,
her leaves brittle.
In the breezy part
of the afternoon,
her core lay hollow
and unfelt,
regardless of...
He wakes her,
demurely she makes
an effort at soixante-neuf,
arbitrarily she bends for him.
"Her dream-gray gaze
never flinches."
She is quite
American.
Mar 23, 2020
Mar 23, 2020 at 4:35 PM UTC
(3 hours. 3 years. A lifetime.)
1. 'and the Doctor said, "are you saying you feel guilty unless you are hungry?"
Discuss, with reference to the roles of female c haracters in the American moderns, particularly to Plath's representation of Esther in The Bell Jar , the relevance of this quote to your adolescent development.
(10 marks)
2. Should a poet's work invariably utilise enjambment or read in sequence, allowing the poet freedom to let the poetry find it's own form?
(Candidates are encouraged to explore the source to which the question above alludes, and to formulate an original argument with an effective use of rhetorical devices to communicate it,)
(8 marks)
3. Elucidate your role as a daughter, then compare and contrast it with your role as a student. Use quotes directly taken from personal experiences and your own examples to clairfy your explanation.
(5 marks)
4. They are all looking at you and laughing at you. You are a joke. You are hallucinating and haven't slept in days. How does this make you/the reader feel and do you think this was a part of your plotline intended to elicit a particular response?
(5 marks)
5. Love is not unconditional. Discuss.
(10 marks.)
6. "To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering."
This famous quote by Nietzsche presents him as a nihilistic and misanthropic individual. Do you see him in this light or can you find hope in his hopeless stance? Use examples of your own suffering to corroborate your viewpoint.
(8 marks)
7. Is morality a prerequisite for appreciation of art? Are you? Are you appreciating/appreciated? Discuss.
(10 marks)
8. Calculate the 369th digit of pi as the fractal proxy to represent the infinite worlds contained witin each human being, and in doing so determine the contribution that you and the offspring you will most probably never have cannot contribute to the world shared between the infinite number of individuals posessing their own words, continuing on to deduct your own value from that of the mean value of the population considered in this infinite data set and draw up a graph to visually demonstrate the extent to which the world doesn't need you.
(15 marks)
9. Using the individual calculations formulated in question 8, derive the meaning of Y.
(5 marks)
10. Draw the shape of your sadness
(20 marks)
11. Don't you think you should have learnt by now?
(25 marks)
12. Explain what you are hoping for, and substantiate your hopes with empirical support.
(5 marks)
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
There is a primordial groove that eludes brevity and alludes to heavenly steps caught between breaths. It exudes an archaic depth and consumes in rhythmic hues of reds greens and blues, fours threes and twos. It’s measured in winters, and it springs and falls like the heartbeat during the strumming of heartstrings and empyrean elegance.
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 8:52 AM UTC
A model-
be efficient
A perfect engine
nigh omniscient
Neither claim nor hint
alludes to friction lost.
To wallow-
hex apparent
Vexed religion
oil derrick
Neither faith nor glint
reflected love at cost.
To follow-
mixed emotion
Pious signet
faux devotion
Saving grace and bliss
cold as the morning frost.
A sorrow-
manufactured
built conviction
savior fractured
Neither waste nor sins
do human creatures wash.
Apr 5, 2010
Apr 5, 2010 at 8:07 PM UTC
As the weather changes
So does my mind state
The colder it gets
The more I feel great
Fall is upon us
Winter is soon to follow
And during these months
I feel less hollow
Bundling up
And drinking hot tea
Makes for a calming day to day
Always feeling free
Scarf around my neck
Hoodie over my head
Nothing to do
Except cuddle in bed
Weather is powerful
It can change moods
I let it work its magic
Only hope it alludes
It's the time to reflect
During this time of year
On all we've been blessed with
With that, our purpose becomes clear
Only love, laughter, and joy
Cancel out the negative
Appreciate what surrounds you
And everything is positive
I can't quite express
What weather does
But it changes something in me
And I'm filled with love
Nature is a beautiful thing
Insanely under appreciated
But it's something I cherish
Because my peace it created
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 11:35 AM UTC
Courtship walks a perilous rope,
seduction and proposal.
The Rake that alludes to chivalry,
balances the act with sin.
Coincidental meetings.
At gatherings of their peers.
A dance asked with gallantry,
speculations run wild.
Carriage rides alone at night,
curtains pulled over windows.
No destination in mind,
except what the Lady allows.
And so the game has begun.
Take what is given, give nothing back.
Promise the moon, deliver promises.
Yet, the hazards of the heart rule.
Now, captivated by charms.
Caught unaware by hearts pull,
the Rogue must bow his head.
Concede to beauty and destiny
Dec 19, 2010
Dec 19, 2010 at 4:15 PM UTC
My consciousness seem to float away
With no effort of mine
It wants to think morbid thoughts
Like the snake
It doesn't want to awake
Rather it wants to stay in limbo
How does it know?
Where did it come from?
I feel things will never be so
I feel the pressures of being undone
I want to sprout skyward
Into the realm of the eagles
Peace and love alludes me
But I want to feel the peace like a warm breeze
And find true love like Mother Earth provides
How can we all get along when all we want is more?
More of everything. More materialistic than anything else
I want to search the heavens, touch the Stars
Maybe then my consciousness will come alive
And break free from all chaos
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 4:02 PM UTC
I returned to where i fit like a puzzle piece into the transparent rock and the crystalline water,
where the trees grew prehistoric palm fronds, wild grass with a view over islands and shades of blue
where the sand felt like silk
birds flashed by the water, visions of grey bodies, yellow legs and wings shaped like pterodactyls,
the waters reflective surface barely alludes to the cosmos beneath
a teeming reef with blue starfish, red starfish, all manners of little fish, parrot fish, shiny squid in hues of blue purple iridescent as I snorkel I see eye to eye with fishies
the coral how they move or don’t ,
their shapely curves in brain wave formations or flowers in perpetual bloom, perhaps akin to a large mushroom
So I breathe and let my fear go.
This is where showers are outside and doors open all night for the breeze to wash me as I sleep.
Where the sky is shifting all in sight,
miles away rain falls and I delight in the visual ecstasy
of the creative flow
the ease of the wind and the lap lap lap of waves
at tidal flows bubbling in, sloshing out -
No skyline disturbing “skyscrapers” but horizons are in vision and further further
inside and out as
I watched a stacked Cumulus mediocris cloud rain onto the ocean, progressively getting smaller and smaller top down,
I saw a lightning storm illuminate the rising sun behind as moon slice smiles
I saw the reason why the heavens are called heavens
the stars almost close enough to touch, an expansiveness of space
when I breathed
it came inside me and filled me
with the vibrancy of billions upon billions of alchemical workshops, working in conjunction with each other, some element created here, some element come together there.
I paused at the highest point of the rock hill a shooter slings on by
past condensed galaxy middles.
When I breathed the expansiveness of ocean and rocks, reefs and prehistoric vegetation I was filled with expansiveness
It was there that I felt the shadows held friends too
my heart beat slowly , quickly, round up down
until one morning I woke up, transparent too
vibrating so highly becoming nothing
even just for a moment
I felt in unison with the rocks and the waves and the sand
the being I currently am
made up of the same stuff and in there
Oneness
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 5:51 AM UTC
I feel like I don't belong here.
I can't place it--
Maybe too pure,
Maybe too evil,
Maybe too ill.
Its hard to say
When every word flung
Wildly around is a
Contradiction.
Too sensitive,
Too changeable.
The balance causes so
Much cognitive dissonance,
And the more I approach my heart,
The more it alludes me on the horizon.
Colorless,
These words ignite a
Flame
Stronger than any pigment.
I am worthless.
I am a treasure.
I am worthy.
I am pitiful.
I am beautiful.
I am a fool.
I am genius.
I am every word they say to me,
Yet I feel like
I am none.
Their icy words spoken with
Frozen hearts
Set my teeth chattering.
Nothing can protect me from this
Impeding cold.
The energy is inexhaustible.
Their ranks are numberless.
The fight goes on,
Teaching me the person I am
Is ought not to be.
Destroy the anguish
Mistaken as beauty.
They take my heart from me--
Brutally beating the bruises,
Formulaically tearing the
Gashes open with silver knives,
A gray harder than the
Silver of the moon--
Harder than the silver of my heart.
I am bruised,
Broken,
Wanting to be gone.
And they laugh at my pain.
They don't believe me when I say
I have nothing to live for.
All I need to do is to
Live up to the low bar they set,
But that's never good enough.
The words bleed out of me,
Yet they remain unsaid.
They would taunt more
If they knew their wickedness.
Sleep saves me from this endless cycle of
Torture.
Engulfed by
Vivid of imaginations of who I am,
I forget for a time
What they told me.
Meet me in this innocent state of existence,
Escaped from the pain.
I wish I knew how to
Avoid their toxic remedies
And the poisonous reminders
That they own me,
And will decide who I am.
But poets tend to exaggerate:
Tell me how it really is.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:25 AM UTC