"aquarian" poems
Like the gold at the end of a rainbow
Lives an angel off the coast of San Diego
A dark skinned beauty with a sunshine halo
Found her in the water and just had to say hello
Her siren voice still echoes in my head
Whispering my name so gently
with her bated breath
Her blinding smile is still burned into my eyes
Even in the dark of night
or against the great blue sky
On a vacation escape from reality
I found her, or maybe she found me
We fell into an ocean of sensuality
Until we were lost at sea...
Aquarian Mermaid
I swam in her lust
and I drowned in her love
Nautical Erotica
Wishes granted
By the gods above
Dearly beloved seraph
Enchantress of the Sea
Sing your magic siren song
Heavenly, to me...
Angel of the Oceanborne,
Navigate me home
Across these waters treacherous
Everywhere I roam
Her siren voice still echoes in my head
Whispering my name so gently
with her bated breath
Her blinding smile is still burned into my eyes
Even in the dark of night
or against the great blue sky
Aquarian Mermaid
I swam in her lust
and I drowned in her love
Nautical Erotica
Wishes granted
By the gods above
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 11:32 PM UTC
Aquarius ♒️
~~~~~~~
Aquarius the symbolism for the water carrier.
Quite an important member of our community
Under spells by an association of the heart
Aquarian crystals are Garnets and Amethyst
Rainbow moonstone, Labradorite, Magnetite
I would buy thee Lithium Quartz ,Moss agate.
Under your care placing Crysoprase n Cryolite
Some Rainforest Jasper for love of this lady.
~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip
December 18th 2018.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 2:27 AM UTC
Last week we decided to just be friends
Even though I like you and you like me
It’s clear that now, friends is all we can be
Our union is something no one recommends.
We’re too polar, for even our own pretends
Your Aquarian audacity
Coupled with my religiosity
We just don’t mix well, there are no “depends”
As we share our brains through books and music
We also share philosophy on life
Though to be “together” would prelude strife
Our contrasting faiths may seem ironic
But such conflicts will bode cuts like a knife
'Guess I rather would keep this platonic.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:45 PM UTC
To us, the world can be painfully beautiful,
staring through the stolen glass eyes of an Aquarian child,
a vision, a sensitive vintage acid spell.
Overt transcendence beyond abstract universal turns into Bohme consciousness: Unorthodox awareness.
Cracking jokes about death, laughing off serious black-and-white situations,
find them an electric bridge between the Rainbow corner of the sky and home,
a thick, liquid existence illuminating yesteryear’s universal revolt.
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 4:07 PM UTC
Let's boogie
in the electric synaptic light show club
called "Us."
Jackhammer legs quake the place
as everyone hums to the rhythms of their synchronized eyelids
and lungs pumping out golden dolphin breath.
Together copacetic drinks are raised and clinked
echoing like a hummingbird's wings shimmering in the afternoon sun,
Great Spirit, the bartender serves up a round on the house
of midnight snow owl whisky
for those ruminating Rumi and Hafiz's poetry,
the ones already beaming crystal quartz incandescence
from their heart and minds being present in the swaying
space that is the sacred spiral grouse dance.
Some peeps puff tree in the maui wowie mahogany lounge,
the prairie dog smoke carves the air
as these folks reflect and stare at their streams of consciousness
like a blue heron waiting for that third eye fish
for dinner.
The mirrors reveal our inner higher self children
of the moonrise kingdom building the iridescent
bridge to the rainbow road.
When when it's last call
we shall tiptoe home like drunken mice
stumbling up the melting sphere clock
to rest upside down opossum comfortably
giggling giggling thunderous heyoka whispers
into each other's shoulders
until the aquarian dawn.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
A wind element never shows;
when they fall in love,
for they are never sure
on their own feeling.
They want to go deeper
and
it will never deep enough
but
when they reach there,
they can't stop loving you.
It is hard to understand an aquarian
for they are unreachable
but trust me,
you can trust them unconditionally.
You don't need to do lot of things
for these aquarians,
just a balanced respect for them
is always enough.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 10:56 PM UTC
the sun,
the moon,
the both of us.
portland to portland,
we are genocide: america.
we are teen murders & horror sitcoms.
globally tuneforked sacrifices,
with commercial breaks.
land of the plumed serpent.
built on the burial grounds of chieftains tall,
but dead men.
public access: watch the tallest towers fall.
in them, men of manifest.
a beast shook.
land of the war artifact.
our birth.
our thousand tongues.
our endless hovering demons/drones/droids of the bomb.
of the eye always watching.
destroyer.
a solar born son of aquarian blood.
prince of the death cult prestigious.
skull & ***** & throned with the boom-button ready.
aligned to die for great glory and bury the dragon one hundred thousand light-years into the dark rift.
heart of milky her.
history favors the bomb.
flavors the chip
dipped.
there was that death of the last cowboy.
his dreams returned to the stars.
his planet returned to chaos,
&/or love.
but both.
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 6:37 AM UTC
Hello fellow poets and artist Finding this site made me smile. I look forward to reading everyone's poems and art.
"Let tomorrow sleep and peacefulness will turn to you. Free yourself and go with your razor sharp emotions. Even the twisted flow is the proof that you're alive. I invite the tearfully-indulging sorrow."
Dreamer..made the best of being a misfit...I have a close bond with Emily Dickinson.. she speaks the most to me.. I'm an Aquarian.. I help people much as i can..
Sea salt and tentacle love letters scatter into my aromatic wind like snowfall in the Arctic. Prevalent. Soft, sweet layers of flowery smoke linger in my midnight lungs. Dark secrets revealed here. Passions unleashed.
To me the world is made of poetry spoken and unspoken
I apologize here and now for butchering your lovely language. Not my first
Doesn't Make Any Sense. Trying Hard To Be A Poet.
Under construction.
Don't stay too long, it's dark in here.
I'm not a good conversationalist, but feel free to message me still.
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 9:59 AM UTC
My mind is a work of art.
For the longest time,
it remained hidden in a cellar.
Away from the judging eyes of the world.
It's been put on display, but some pieces are missing.
Being restored and maintained properly.
To repair the effects of time and the elements.
So that it may be enjoyed forever.
It sits in a gallery for everyone to see.
Wanting to be understood by all those who breathe.
Most people stop, glance, and leave,
But a few people stop and do more than just see.
They feel.
They know. They understand.
Or at least try.
They look at the lines and try to see through.
"What is the artist trying to tell you?"
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 7:41 AM UTC
It was dark
Trembling whirlpools and waves lingered
We climbed for days
We climbed for weeks
We climbed to the highest peaks on the earth
But still, the flood rained down
We built great ships and sailed
Great monsters fought us from below
Just as the water-bearers struck from above
We wandered the waves , whipping
We sailed between the horses
We sailed between the C's
Was this the coming of a new age?
Was this the death of the fish?
What of the light?
What of the sun?
Housed by Aquarian demise,
We fought for each day
How long must we wait?
Can we blame the goat?
Zealaz, where are you?
When will your mountain appear?
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
my "insensitivity"
isn't stemmed from negativity,
but more so a desire
to think about it logically.
a life without stress
is when i do my best.
and don't take that as distance,
but my choice
to be sep ara te.
independant.
me, myself, and i
mind, body, and soul.
woven together underneath
the attachment of my surface layer.
hidden from most,
deemed "unreadable."
my "detachment"
a word often describing my
lack of attention-
is not a reflection
of my affection,
or a distraction
from my emotions,
but a reflection
taking place of a reaction.
my "cold heart"
is not the polar
to a warm heart.
it is simply the polar
to a fiery heart,
but it burns
just as fiercely.
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 1:59 PM UTC
*Now a flowing air wise signs on waters streaming,
pouring forth from the pitcher of wisdom anew,
ever full undrunk,instinctive of human absolutes all.
Gods,men,minds all uranian battling calm,now futile,
But knowing,caring, grasping,fathoming, conquering
tidings evil of powered souls unholy,uncaring deliberate.
Searing lightning flashes of intellects just,truly intuitive
burning stiff coffined conventions,dry dead rules of yore
melting old cold solid knowledge cruel of Draco obsolete
to humane rivers gently righteous, of merciful hearts
ripping away ways human sordid and corroded deep
repaving with light golden love those roads to hearts.
is it enough I wonder, have we become naturalized?*
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 8:25 AM UTC
Liquid gold,
The substance of purity filled with the testament to man's very genius.
Reliant on nothing but relied upon by all,
The very life force of Earth,
An infatuated Earth
with a love song dedicated
to the very existence of the sun,
For permeating its varied skin tone
Bringing it the moisture it desires.
What it deserves.
For what is taken for granted
is often the cause of great happiness.
Often unnoticed but never not present,
A commodity on this Earth but a long forgotten Godsend.
Believe it or not,
it’s water.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 5:51 AM UTC
Don't think that I've forgotten you
I haven't, and I never will
You haunt my dreams
In quiet moments
When the chaos subsides
Turning corners and rounding bends
As your name remains stuck in my throat
Like a spear dipped in poison
I still think of the good times
And rewrite the fairy tale
That ended before it ever began
Then, I go back to my place on the shelf
Of regrets and Charon's tokens spent
And whisper softly to into the thick, dusty, air
“Never again. I understand, I am a misfit.”
At least it's comfortable here
I've served my purpose
Stated my Creed
Planted seeds that have grown
Into unassailable thoughts and lucid dreams
That one day will bear fruit and give shade
To nourish and protect that sweet soul that I cherish
Should it remain, inside
The image of that beautiful, but crafty, Aquarian
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
It feels like thousands of needles are stabbing my body,
my soul my heart
when I think of
you and I
always being apart.
I miss you sister,
like I don't want to believe,
can't even come close to
percieving any reason
for you leaving.
How can this ever build me -
whenever it's done
breaking me down?
Flower petals scattered on the ground.
Your essence of effortless
pure beauty astounds.
The most Divine woman around.
Why !
Sister, will this catapult me
into action?
÷.÷
I bust windows
and run in through the flames,
as I endlessly scream out your name,
at the top of my cracked voice, swallowed by the chaotic noise
of
Our house -
on fire ,
the whole world
on fire,
burning,
and crumbling
splintering,
The pain numbing.
inconceivable destruction,
a vortex of melting wind,
& to what end?
What could stand after this storm,
for those who survive,
what all heroic wonders
will your memory inspire?
÷°÷
. My Aquarian angel,
if you believed
this is what it would take
to bring in the new age.
I know you would do it.
And you would Without any fear.
(Oh my darling!)
If only
I could
have met you on that pier,
if only
I could
have helped you
see crystal clear.
You are so perfect ,
you are so needed- HERE! !
angel,
every drop of advice
you ever gave me,
I promise to heed it.
How can i do this mission without you ?
how can anything be put right
when it has gone so incredibly, irreversibly wrong?
I'll miss you're voice in every song
I ever sing,
every Melody I ever bring
will be for you.
I pray to God you hear it too. .
. .
Every time, Magic Maya, this one's for you, every time.
Every single time.
I'll always miss you, please come through , I'll see you on the other side, Goddess Divine.
Hayleo Liz
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 5:51 PM UTC
It’s too comfortable to write
In light so bright my sarcasm wont bite
So I’d rather wax intellectual in the freezing cold
Let my icy lungs ****
In some tar and I’ll
Hold everything I say
As
True
If only we could compile clues
We’d see
All the bodies we buried to be moderately happy
But still I’ve done worse things
While eye’s rolled in the back of their heads
Averting your vision
Can be the only tactic in your book
Of smarmy one liners
That all seem to be blunt remarks about my size
Which is fine
Worse things have been said
During diner conversations
We counted off the ways in music how we’d be a bonnie and Clyde
And if the220 razor wires grins sewed of mouths off cheating friends
88 sharp teeth gleaming, of devilish plots we were scheming
52 white knuckles clenched over getaway cars, or benches in parks watching false stars
36 black stares something about face mauling and bears, but I didn’t care that we only had
7 seconds to make it out with the money
5 eye’s wide open to ceiling fans or a lack their of
1 reason to wake up
And in such a way we could be writing pings on sound recorders put it just goes silent with the senseless bashing of fists on porcelain/.
but in the end we can only hope it means nothing
or as empty as air
or as simple as breathing
-Kevin T
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 10:19 PM UTC
I’ve tasted your tears
Drank from you soul
Swam through the years
Of your woman hole
I’ve spoken to your skin
Named your body Yin
This is beyond thee original sin.
Come, take my hand
We’ll run away and expand
raise a child with the wolves
Steal this body of land
build a home out of this tree
Fill it with poetry and books
Exist in complete anarchy
We’ll be the towns rooks
Scream through the evening deserts
And summon the shooting stars.
Make love with the fire
Leave my body with scars.
Breathe in the wild
Let it run through our blood
Entertained like a child
Who romps in the mud
We shall live as starving artists
Yet enriched and wealthy from our great minds
Pray to the sun and bless the water
Keep the mountains young with our spellbinds
Bleed ink from our mouths of sonnets and runes
Kiss the dawn and bring her death
giving birth to Aquarian silver moons
-Arizona
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
And Jesus said, And you shall follow me through trials and through death; but now you cannot go where I will go, but you shall come.
And Jesus spoke again unto the eleven and said, Grieve not because I go away, for it is best that I should go away. If I go not the Comforter will not come to you.
These things I speak while with you in the flesh, but when the Holy Breath shall come in power, lo, she will teach you more and more, and bring to your remembrance all the words that I have said to you.
There are a multitude of things yet to be said; things that this age cannot receive, because it cannot comprehend.
But, lo, I say, Before the great day of the Lord shall come, the Holy Breath will make all mysteries known -
The mysteries of the soul, of life, of death, of immortality; the oneness of a man with every other man and with his God.
Then will the world be led to truth, and man will be the truth.
When she has come, the Comforter, she will convince the world of sin, and of the truth of what I speak, and of the rightness of the judgment of the just; and then the prince of carnal life will be cast out.
And when the Comforter shall come I need not intercede for you; for you will stand approved, and God will know you then as he knows me.
(162:3-11, The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ)
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
*Maculate Cheddar Moon nights o'er Aquarian countryside
Hinterland for young lovers , pathways for romance rediscovered
Shangri-La midnight glen , flaxen mane , astral beacons of
Smoke blue in concerto with Flame red
A reflection on a chosen star at curiosities unlatched gate
Traipsing rain washed , cool clover with strawberry tressed , porcelain 'Inamorata'
Ebony hour capitulation and seduction* ...
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
i'd love nothing more than to unhinge my jaws so i can
capsule your heart mid-beat between braces born of
steel and ownership. i don't write love songs, i can only
shriek about how confused i am that you are for keeping
they always scream at me for playing with the kids in
the sandbox next to mine. "you break it, you buy it!"
i'd take a poem as a pestle and an aquarian jar as mortar
variety is the spice of life and i want your veins in my soup
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 3:30 PM UTC
Swelling rage behind this Aquarian daze
How might I articulate all the ways you've marked me
With only this
simple
blank
page
I'll just keep telling myself this is nothing but a phase
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 5:08 PM UTC
They sit
on the riverbank
on rickety stool
or upturned buckets
elbows resting on knees
hand on rod or simple reel
they sit, they wait
they contemplate
and cogitate
hats on heads
with scrapes and muck and holes
old sandshoes
that have long forgotten
the words white and tennis
shorts or trousers
that sit comfortbably on the hips
and old threadbare shirts
they sit, they stare
into the bright river wake
they take breathes of air
they of the ambience intake
about them is a calm
a stillness, a balm
and tho flys hover
and create bother
there is grace
as they swat
and bat them off
their face
even when they hook
a catch, there is a rhythm
to the fight, of reel and splash
as the duel, to bring the hunted
to heel, be it snagged boot
or that night's meal
they sit, they stand
rod and reel in hand
and thake a punt
on the aquarian hunt
with net and esky
and can of bait
they sit, they wait
and the world
revolves slowly
to them, there is
something sacred
something holy
about the time spent
on the riverbank
catching fish
catching up to oneself
time given to repent
relinquish, replenish
to reinvent, a soul
they sit, they wait
they contemplate
they consecrate
simple things to holy
these old men who fish
on the riverbanks
an ol man river
watches and gently
smiles
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 10:02 PM UTC
Oh Aquarian
Have a gander
The moon's asleep
Her cloud blankets
Block out the light
Soft to the skin
Wet black air
Lessons, Questions,
Answers, Pensions
Rise and sink with
The puddles on the street
Reflections in the water
Are always shifting
Clarity equals deceit
A puddle cant be
Placid when it rains
A drop here or
There may be fate
Aquarian lets all in so
The puddle grows
Streetlights off, Sunlight on
Every drop is free
But the Aquarian weeps
He cannot see his puddle
Sun and evaporation
A puddle cease to be
Now, Aquarian's mind
Is not so soggy
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 4:56 AM UTC
'tween the writhing
desiring and feeling staying
in this realm I see
your body next to mine
and feel
like going totally emphatically
wild
its only love
doing its thing singing from
true nature promoting her desires
turn the heats up
as a new flame erupts
your smile turns me upside down
inside out
pheromones fill this scene
scents
burn like incense on winds
of Basque romance basking in darkness
wild and wrong its so right
reflecting in the shadows
beauty within us as we look
in this mirror
see if you know me
I am Aquarian.
you are Desamor.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC