Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"aquatinted" poems
Like this morning for instance Hot February and dry cracked skin of my shadow which sometimes seems to look at me and move w/out me and I, w/out it. Sometimes I see the flicker of a dark soul jeer; a savage dance, right in front of me, or in the corner of my eye when my head is tilted. The other day at my friend’s I felt like I was, briefly, in the sunflower courtyard of this ol’ dark underwater museum full of mirrors that float adrift. Angles that perpetually gyrate and shift….. I hear the sound of a whale submerged in a highway crying with striving despair at night and I'm sad because his lovers reply sounds so distant and it sounds as if it comes from a cavern w/in an ocean below a sun I hope he finds her and dies happy in the warmth of her flippers.... I miss the panther-warm wine & cream Was it worth it Is this worth it Cold violet city vacant warm lobbies at night desolate allies and dogs in such deep slumber they cant even wake to bark at impending footsteps The musty brown cars whose aura of mothballs and pipe smoke reminds you of a childhood irretrievable   I smiled back at the rocks that snickered Beside the fence which stood firm In caring vigilance Cold verdure within Misery mixed with Getting bored w/ absorbing it There’s a strange saloon w/ hotel attached at the center of Melancholy where flames are lit music is played bodies are slowly denuded and silver knives are thrown I can show you… (Long ago it seems I bit and kissed and became aquatinted w/ the bark of the root of delirium Recently even I’ve spoken to the heart of delirium itself from within w/ no reply but I can remember all my memories were hallucinations)
0
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 1:27 PM UTC
BLUISH GREENISH BLACKISH GOLD
Like this morning for instance Hot February and dry cracked skin of my shadow which sometimes seems to look at me and move w/out me and I, w/out it. Sometimes I see the flicker of a dark soul jeer; a savage dance, right in front of me, or in the corner of my eye when my head is tilted. The other day at my friend’s I felt like I was, briefly, in the sunflower courtyard of this ol’ dark underwater museum full of mirrors that float adrift. Angles that perpetually gyrate and shift….. I hear the sound of a whale submerged in a highway crying with striving despair at night and I'm sad because his lovers reply sounds so distant and it sounds as if it comes from a cavern w/in an ocean below a sun I hope he finds her and dies happy in the warmth of her flippers.... I miss the panther-warm wine & cream Was it worth it Is this worth it Cold violet city vacant warm lobbies at night desolate allies and dogs in such deep slumber they cant even wake to bark at impending footsteps The musty brown cars whose aura of mothballs and pipe smoke reminds you of a childhood irretrievable   I smiled back at the rocks that snickered Beside the fence which stood firm In caring vigilance Cold verdure within Misery mixed with Getting bored w/ absorbing it There’s a strange saloon w/ hotel attached at the center of Melancholy where flames are lit music is played bodies are slowly denuded and silver knives are thrown I can show you… (Long ago it seems I bit and kissed and became aquatinted w/ the bark of the root of delirium Recently even I’ve spoken to the heart of delirium itself from within w/ no reply but I can remember all my memories were hallucinations)
Continue reading...
67
I never fully understood the meaning of the  word “mourn” until this year - To truly feel the loss of another concentrated in its purest form. I never believed when others would say “I miss you more, in  each and every day” or “There’s not an hour goes by, without a thought of you on my mind” As if Loss is an unforgotten constant in the trails of the trivial, We are only human after all. But I was naive, through and through. Loss never leaves your side once you meet Loss is a friend for life. The kind that shows their face in the most unpredictable moments, Who never fades away or falls out, Becoming more aquatinted as we go through life. Loss is selfish, wanting our undivided attention, Expecting us to indulge in its deep dark thoughts with strong pretension. Loss is harsh, not hiding nor sugarcoating any enemy attack, Facing us with the reality of control and just how much we lack. Loss is bitter, Loss is unkind Loss is a thief, stealing our piece of mind. Loss is jealous, Loss is sly. Is it absent of Love, Or has Love left it’s side?
0
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:59 PM UTC
Mourn/Loss
wrap me in Your dark embrace pull me close kiss my neck my wrists my scars. make me fall for You when i've got the noose around my neck. people are scared of you but i don't fear you any more our late night meetings have got me aquatinted with you You're always there for me even in my shadows absence You overwhelm me take my breath away make my hear skip a beat or stop beating all together We have a date and i'm counting down the days until i finally meet you all the teasing taunting half meeting i will be with You we will be one. take me away with You forever my love let us live in our kingdom
0
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
Untitled
It was my pride and joy. When I picked it up and My lips kissed the cold metal I felt instantly at home. My fingers pressed the three pearled keys up and down as if getting re-aquatinted, always one being a rebel. The spit valve needed a new cork for it dripped like the tears of a loved one, longing to be held. And the gold paint was chipping, revealing an ugly shade of brown. But as your hand glided across the paper, the blemishes and imperfections disappeared. And the world now saw it through my eyes. It did not shine or glitter in the sunlight, but it hung, proudly in black and white. A masterpiece.
0
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 1:37 AM UTC
An Artist's Touch
i never told him now i felt not once had the intention of doing so because a part of me believed that unrequited love is much sweeter than the sour taste of once aquatinted love and not longer acquainted love; never as bitter as the love from a confession cut off at the stem and uprooted from the earth. perhaps it was my fear of my heart being laid out bare- torn apart and sliced to shreds only to fall short of the pan and into the trash instead. that last drop in the bottle no one bothers to get i was  never one for cooking but i can't seem to find step one and i don't think i have all the ingredients on how to make this thing called love. how long should i let it bake and how do i know when its ready to share?
0
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 3:51 AM UTC
a recipe for disaster
I have been aquatinted with the bad Wearing low cut shirts to show the world Short skirts, giving more than a stripper I have skipped school to steal hearts I have hurt many Only to pity myself I have tried to drown the pain I found myself at the bottom of every bottle and then some I have walked lonely halls trying to avoid the all knowing teachers eyes But I have let my self Become aquatinted with the bad
0
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
Bad
Your mind is a mountain i wish i could climb Your eyes are like water i wish i could drink Your soul is so pure No one set to taint it Im given the chance With pain I'm aquatinted You were so cool though I never thought id feel at home Being left alone to suffer Love was lost again Start looking for another To find that it is pointless Searching for the one Who puts you in the sky To blaze just like the sun You'll find your flame short-lived You'll find that you are falling Not deeper in love To dirt where bugs are crawling You hit the ground and live Get up and can't walk But still have love to give Sit with broken legs, or maybe get some pegs You'll have a better look For turning females heads Then you'll find the one Then you'll find your lover Just you your love and pegs Dissolving in each other
0
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC
Pegs
I don't know how to express love During the times when I can feel it Most of the time seems an emptiness undefined Embracing theologies that excuse my flaw Learning the lessons, love is not always a feeling Except when it is Curled up in my gut like a child in the womb I hold it tightly, tightly in Can't let people see the look I get on my face Or god forbid some tears But your books on the night stand As they are yours and yours alone I have such love for them And realize, looking at them, that I have even more, stronger love buried inside me But it rarely comes out And it makes me physically I'll Beingi it so deprived in my.heart I love my wife I don't know what I'd do without her But she doesn't know the half of it She can't extract it, stuck so firmly to my skeleton It's where it must be for now New emotions mixed with old Ancient love leftover from the day Mom left us behind She left us to lions and life that way Many years he Help us become less aquatinted Ain't it f'ed up? About 35 years and seven miles to cross Leaden lump of love and betrayal Keeps me where I am I have love in my heart But it's tainted It's bashful and too embarrassed Some gone bad, for sure, neglected Like bad food it makes me sick I've got to find the right person to give it to Even if it is a god I can't live with it in here anymore Takers please
0
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC
Love For Taking
The ache is old And deep-seated And cold And numbing And uncontrolled And heavy And bold. It hits as if Thor's hammer is Striking his enemies who have somehow Taken up residence In my heart. And he must obliterate them. I wish the doctors could find a way to fix this. But it seems they are as lost as I. So I greet this ache as I would Death: An old friend, Yet one I had hoped to be far less aquatinted with. This ache is old, As old as I. And it always will be.
0
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
Melanchol-ache
I used to be so aquatinted   to sleeping alone but then you came into my life and you felt like home Every morning I would wake with you by my side and I never once thought I would lose you but I did in the blink of an eye so now here I am back in my bed without anyone to hold without anyone for me to rest my head here I am sleeping alone in a place that will never feel like home j.h.
0
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 1:30 AM UTC
sleeping alone