Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
From time alone is man defined
 As the diffused flash of a holy duality.
Brother to ripe olives, a likeness of reality,
 Lucid in face, yet mortally blind.

Ebbing spirit and cohorts around,
 Pluck these eyes with a degree of care.
For feeling your hands lays one bare—
 To know its touch is to know the mound.

Our embrace is a wicked aspect of fate—
 An animal breeze clouded as amity.
Some recoil at their light, at their brevity,
 Yet these ponderers fall ever straight.

What star beams to wilting lovers
 Who adjoin for this brief act and jest?
A way-lighting keeper for ease and rest,
 Or a gaze behind for what love uncovers?

What limb hangs and endures to bind
 This dream and moon-this eve entire?
When wind lofts slumbers' soothing lyre,
 Number it among the illusions of the mind.

What cruel earth cracks with greeting
 While swallowing our infant yearning?
O coming mass, O firmament ever-churning,
 Bound and seize us! We are fleeting!-

Fleeting into the dance of earthly gloom,
 Winding about—pining behind the flesh-
Reifying the world in gesture and thresh.
 What sum am I, branch—again in bloom?
"Continual awareness of all time and space, of the size and lifespan of the things around us. A grape seed in infinite space. A half twist of a corkscrew against eternity."
—Marcus Aurelius
Sorry that it took over a week for me to upload this after my last post; I've been sick lately and haven't found the energy for much of anything. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this one- it might look better if you turn your phone if you're on mobile.
Though I arc and swell and bloom,
And move replete with daylight, gifted-
A new shadow, melancholy in its fume,
Strongly pervades on this day now

Enkindle and sing, O dawn-awoken
Guide me through the salt and midnight!-
As above, a tide surfeit with unknowns
Is broken upon this reflecting man's sight!

Why covet my blisses, O familiar void?
And why those lazy eyes of envy, time?
Your long sleep and anemia I once
But here stands life, rushing and

And here stands the martyr and saint!
Affirmed and illuminated in cause!-
For all other passions and peaks have
  a taint
Where deep nothingness winds and

And why pray and descend, great nullity?
Why whisper and comfort and be at all?
The weak may come for your amity,
But death perfumes in your beckon
   and call!

When day betrays with days untold-
How the entropic rib impels us to be dust!
For day fools every pestled grain and
   ill old,
Curving and embracing them on a gust-

There! I have unmasked you, turning
Your enthralling gaze, your simple hold!
Here are your cowardly, apathetic ones-
In your hands does their low course

They fear when one is most visible-
Why fear afternoon, O friends of twilight?
Do you not find this loaded sky risible?
Why love only as ghosts and strange

Save longing and fully comprehend:
Life is the tug of the eternal and the swift-
You must move, you must love and bend-
And, like the others, you must be adrift!

He who is high and most abounding,
Has the least of false shades cast on him:
The shade of the feeble, idle yet sounding-
Do not deny yourself- you've only
   grown dim-

Night! Come night and friends dotted
I have taught well- burn amongst me
Bound muscle and growth and sun akin!
Here is nature— warm and without
This took a little over a month to make. I hope you all enjoy reading it. This will most likely be my last post for a bit as this took a lot of creative energy- I won't be gone too long. Special thank you to Mc6lm for early input.

I love you all
- Darrell
Natalie Apr 2018
In a day, there will be a ****** death.
A sorry mark of my womanness,

It comes like clockwork
To remind me of my waste.

I am a lukewarm pool
For leaves and tepid amity.

And this is just the monthly drain.
The condition sits well with me.

I am not ill, nor grossly deprived of love.
I am not drawn to that convention.
Nat Lipstadt Mar 24
-for Zukiswa Mvunguse~
and for
~ Jul,
who once again,
loved each line best~

having already deduced that:

“the unplanned is his plan,
it’s his faceted flaws
that refract his coloratura”^

the titled alliteration teases him into thinking
there, is more to be said,
more to be prayed,
the unplanned lesser lesson is as-of-the-yet unlearned,
and the sunburst of a full fledged
lying-in-bed born from a static spark of kinetic energy,
awaking in an unfamiliar bed
or a too familiar state of mind,
begs for birth and vainglorious death-by-anon/amity
of another poem  

I have written poems commissioned,
“write about suicide,” asked a friend,
“take this word and artfully knead it,” once, was once an oft request,
twisty manipulate your scheming resources into
finely assaying a field rock raw,
laboratory mind-mine it into an essay that delve dives
where you fear to treacherous tread,
resultant, an awkward prayer, now, a valued mineral

no poem is truly planned and no prayer ever truly answered,
but as you compose, pushing the last, next word
ever farther to the right,
you self-confess, expecting no absolution, that the poem,
this one as well,
and the next, and the next, and the next

has always been planned since your inception,
always a prayer asked, and in creation conception,
answered even if not directly answered,
in the bare minimum asking,
is the answering,
is the planning,
is the poem and the prayer,
is his owned
spontaneously born at 7:57am on
Sunday, March 24, 2019

read her poems.
Philipp K J Jan 16
If this vast azure emptiness can prove
An aghast endless vacuum measure
Take it for granted, research process sure
It will fuel your thought resources, true.

Mining specks and dots in deep space treasures
Boundless designs shine assigning pleasures
Unfurl within mind in gaseous beams
Overflowing the banks of conscious streams
Filling the utmost sanctum with soft skills
Milling vacuum with colorful quills
Calming the pulses with embracing lulls
Warming all lives with fundamental pulls
Creating a sense of duo, I and you
Love and dislikes and points of view.
Feeling satiety in charity
Finding synergy in activity.
Minting amity in society
keeps you young aged muddling in daring dreams
Deeply engage you cuddling realms supreme.

So what? if this vast thought mine be blanked out
Will the ghost mute vacuum follow suit?
If sense aides guide a slow downward exit
And mind bids the fairy lids to close it
Will the sun bewail, bemoan and eclipse?
Or will the same smile prevail on red-lips?
If souls sunset in seamless sea of mind
Will lights spill out; team up to stay behind?
To form anew a fresh long microwave
To indent a start with a soul suave
A new spectrum to perceive the forces
For the soul that constantly resources
That differently formats transceiver courses
The energy that cannot be destroyed
But that which can be candidly portrayed
On a vast emptiness fluidly stolid
On a continuum vividly solid
On a clean canvas without dimensions
In a brave new world that cannot mention
A name which is beyond comprehension
A frame that doesn't fall on known convention.
ashton Nov 2018
it's almost as if she were calling to me,
begging me to venture from the barren prairie
to the tantalizing surf,
to wholly submerge into her; to escape from my sorrows,
to inundate myself with the delicacy of her frigid surface.
i could hear her, muttering my name from across the meadow.
slowly, i was growing aware of how minute i had become,
standing in this immense field alone.
i felt the aching, and the longing for amity scrabble its way up my spine.
my legs begin to take strides, my entire body follows en suite.
my fingers shakily unbutton my blouse, tossing it somewhere within the paddock.
it was as if my body had a mind of its own, and was spellbound.
my boots are off before i can comprehend what is happening to me.
and suddenly, im unclothed,
my feet digging into the sand beneath me.
my ears ring as my brain swims and i can't focus;
all i hear are her exquisite murmurs, chanting my name
until it's no longer recognizable.
the ringing in my ears swells, roaring until my brain aches and my vision grows more and more white until im underwater,
covering my ears and screaming for the chaos to subside.
and it does. my **** body is submerged into her breathtaking sea.
never have i felt more at peace.
Hafza Awan Jul 27
Compassionate Heart and Sagacious grey
With fiery spirit not meant to play

Kindness from peer and amity of mother
Inside she holds the venom of others

By norms and rules, confined and restrain
She sings with air; she dances with rain.

Every time she fell, every time she stands
Nothing can move her from her lands

Dust of miles on the face, pain in her eyes
Life hasn’t dealt her well but still, she smiles

Her love wild, her love fierce
Loyalty her rule, veracity she endears

With spiritual soul and intimacy to God
She can ne’er be shaken protected by Lord

Fearless by blood, wanderess by Soul
She can neither be possessed nor be cajole

She is not ordinary, she is not fluff
Use and dump her? No Honey! She ain't that stuff
muteD Dec 2018
What do you want from me ?
Truly .
Each of you want a piece
of something
with substance .
A piece of me split each way .
A different sketch for each of you .
Everyone needs an altered piece of myself to
play with ,
A 'rag doll' as they call it .
To do whatever you please .
A character to play out in your story.
History ,
Her story
Everyone's story
Except mine .
My story ,
When does my story begin ?

sometimes I get tired of playing the role I was
cast in ,
I'm an actor in this tired excuse of a play .
Maybe that is my story .
My tale .
A nightmare is what it is .
A fairytale is what it used to called .
Some fiction mixed a litte truth
because all lies are based from fact .
Maybe all I'm meant to be
is a different flame
in every wildfire .
Meant to fuel your passions
And to inspire your dreams .
There's a different me
For everybody .
Every one of you ****** get
Or amour .
You get someone who would protect you
From every thorn
of pain in this existence called 'life' .
I'd sacrifice mine ,
to save you twice .
Recognizing your flaws for what they really are ,
Imperfect beauty marks
on the heart .
I care for you how only I can wish
You'd care for me .
And that's my issue .
I see your potential
All your pain , I feel .
Like a sponge , I soak up all your filth .
I polish you .
I always wipe your surface
even though my movements go unnoticed .
Time and time again ,
I'm the one who listens .
Starting but never finishing
like a slept on movie series.
you fall asleep on me before you even
understand me .
Snoozing as I portay
this idea of disarray .
I watch you ignore me
And all while asking ,
"Are you still watching?"
"I feel some type of way tbh and it really hurt my heart... [Is it] about me cause I feel like the shoe fit."-MO
"***. I relate to this one. Like I think this is one of my favorites. It's so f*cking true how you [can] give someone your all and they [will still] sleep on you. Like fr this one is golden."-L
Miko Jan 31
Take me to Gelena in the winter
where our lungs will be crowded with icicles
as our capillaries assemble on edge
each and every one aching just to quiver
like my bottom lip that I simply can't control
oblivious to the weather
though fueled by a shroud of eager anxiety
that covers and embraces my skin
like the quick and even breathes I'm taking
to stay awake
in something that predicts like a dream

Follow me close as I perceive this vividly
that the moment bookshelved between inhale
and exasperated exhale
is flooded with thoughts of you
that I would drown in it willingly
and all I can credit my thoughts to be
is to wonder if I am lucid dreaming or not
of your lips on mine
of your fingers earnestly entwined in my shaggy hair
as you pull me closer
and I can smell your warmth
and feel your passion through this possibility
that our our hands are locked
like the door of my bedroom
every night
in my empty apartment
because being safe
has taken me 21 years to understand
and even then the fear shamefully crawls its way into my spine
but it is in this ten seconds
I can finally sink into this fogless reality
of enjoyment and felicity

And in this accelerating sound of assurance
I will teach you the language I studied
in moments so short
that a staccato could fill two lungs tip top
and still be 100 yards behind this message
gawking at the starting line
and as the gun goes off
I am already there
lungs filled
wanting to do justice
with more than just an ***** in my chest
but with the treatment hidden inside skipping beats
and minds running and screaming so loudly
as I'm howling this adamant resonance from the top of the complex
to empty my mind until my throat is sore
until what follows are the neighbors voices escaping angrily open windows
bellowing at me to please turn it down
for the umpteenth time
but I want to remedy this disease
with the softness of your neck
I want to hold you close
with your head nestled in my shoulder
where scars beneath clothes usually sit dishonorably
but not now
because now they know a relentless forgiveness
and amity so authentic
that now I can exhale

— The End —