"aqueous" poems
She had waves of hair
cascading down her back
And waves of thought
running through her brain
Waves of sweet melody
dripping from her tongue
The waves were strong
and couldn't be tamed
The aqueous flame
in her heart was the same
Her waves were of a fiery essence
And left them in need
of her shallow and deep
For when they, the people, were in her presence
She was the only source of life they could see
Human beings are constantly in need of water
And she was water of the best purity
So how could they deny themselves
A taste of the natural salty sea?
A sea that was blissful, wild and free.
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
She laughed like a Furbie
With broken voice box
Somehow digital and shrill
(Low bitrate ***** )
All discreet ones and zeros(um) game
I know how to fix her with
Aqueous solution seed
Fry her circuits like LSD
Bring down Skynet
With my ****
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
I fear.
I fission.
I flow.
like a sponge,
I become aqueous
when wiping blood or saliva.
like a finger, I lose myself in rings of prints.
I am the ography
of space loosely tied to the
end of a carrot. detach me from
ice and I float to the other side of the island.
I wave at ships passing night or day, captains
drunk or sober, buoys clean or covered in mucky ****
save me.
I am losing my
mind on these stairs
crawling the ceiling, these
riches made of paper, these children
using liters of glue to stick themselves to
each other.
everyone is stuck.
everyone is covered in barnacles.
everyone is design on my pine tree’s needled hooves.
a horse gallops four at a time. they name it “power” for the dreams it has of stormy women.
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 9:13 AM UTC
**via woodland trail, along deciduous dale
amid a rocky terrain, through geographic chicane
meandrous no longer, smoky waters beleaguered
upwelling they burble, in deep tracts they gurgle
hypnotic they swirl, then turgidly whorl
the rivers egress, from caverns sub-aqueous
bereft of surrender, outpours now in splendour
the Wharfe expelled from the strid.
... ... ...**
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 12:26 PM UTC
with well worked hands
he pulls on the sea
like the hem of a pale skirt dancing 'round his lovers hips
it's what she loves about him most
the way that the tide ebbs and flows
with the rise and fall of his sun-stained chest
seashells
and gull feathers
and bits of fishing net
woven into his hair
like the threads of canvas sails
aqueous thunder-head eyes
look like they've seen the fall of every empire
and soon
they'll witness the fall of ours
he smells of salt-cured wood and the sun
and it's the kind of smell you'll never forget
nor properly describe
he moves like magic
like waves
lapping at the shoreline in the calm of dusk
with an anxious tongue
and an appetite that's never satisfied
he licks the wounds of any heart
he's strong enough to bare the weight of any burden
of any trash barge or sea ferry
ear pressed to his chest
like a conch-shaped vessle
the labor of his heart valves plays like sailor songs
in an empty cabaret
nerve-wrackingly beautiful
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 2:34 PM UTC
Enveloped in a haze of sullen clouds
Woebegone is the sky as it laments
Rain falls to ground in an aqueous shroud
Pooling its bleak anguish on the cement
All that is living drowns in the sorrow
Fearing long hours of the cold and despair
Hoping for warmth of a new tomorrow
No more melancholy could we ever bear
We mourn the sun's imminent exodus
As rain fall begins its sojourn of woe
And the joy of the sun's warmth leaves from us
To us the onus of grief it bestows
But with rain's end comes the tender sunlight
Ending the bemoaning war and sorrow's fight.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 5:39 PM UTC
nothing's instantaneous
temperance a requirement
change forever targeted
til self becomes fragmented
heart an aqueous soluble
erstwhile deliquescent
puddled into pulp
taken out like trash
fitting for an adversary
malicious and malevolent
destructive to the starling
plucked and plunged to sea
so drown to suffocation
laudable attempts at termination
inundate your consciousness
using barrages of indifference
convinced affection's unattainable
death deserted and companionless
auspicious in my loneliness
asphyxiate to expiration
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 4:28 PM UTC
Poseidon reared his unkempt head
Above the waves today
An ocean monster dripped in dread
Chest to chest with the bay
“Today, or any day at all!”
The shore-side heard his plea
Salt shucked shoulders tall as islands small
“No being shall ever challenge me!”
One gull omitted a thoughtful word
Which sounded much like “Rak!”
One offended brow raised at what he heard
Poseidon countered with a slap
Five foul fingers touched the sky
And fell upon the sea
A wave as great as mountains high
Sighed upon the beaches knee
With a drunken beat of lazy wing
The gull escaped his perch
Finding another on which to cling
Without a moment’s search
Fists clenched around the shallows
Poseidon was enraged
With urchin riddled lips pursed he bellowed
And blew the beach away
Up went beachgoers along the coast
Into the sandy storm
Sun chapped mums beginning to roast
Castling children, One man named Norm
Gull glided softly on the wind
Providing a flap or two
And to the defeated Poseidon's chagrin
Let out a cantankerous coo
In one last fit of aqueous rage
Posiedon surfaced to land
And in a briny blind rampage
Grabbed the gull with swole hands
Gull in hand Poseidon yelled
“What dare you mean sly poultry?
My kingdom is unparalleled,
All pilgrims seek my choultry”
But the oily gull slipped through his grip
And flew quite far away
And as he watched it dive and dip
He came to see the bay
Debris was strewn across the sand
His subjects were in ruin
Disaster spread across the land
And it was all his doin’
A desperate shade turned Poseidon
As he returned to the great deep
“What use am I as a mighty king
If protection I cannot keep?”
That is how a seagull won
Against The God of Sea
Who forgot about his job, just one,
To keep the big blue world carefree
Dec 26, 2020
Dec 26, 2020 at 9:17 PM UTC
*You deluge my eyes
In aqueous bombs
Because you love me
In ways that defy existentiality,
That hallow my spirit,
That quake terraqueous Gaia,
Exhale me as a Cosmos
―Of the Cosmo-Plexus of the Wildest Love.
Consecrate me O Niveous Dove,
With thine pearlescent eyes
For love
(Ineffably tender)
Is your Gender.
Pain is my golden raiment,
Dirge and piety
For you
Stir in my soul
By the thew of your
Beauteous, Tempestuous Affections.
Create in me
An intemerate heart;
Impregnable,
For then I will know
That the Silver Wings of Dreams
Are impregnable.
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 7:55 AM UTC
***sadden'd violin strings
wreak havoc
in the torrid rain
pouring out flutter of hearts
within melodic aqueous bliss
whispering unto raven's breath
dancing upon fire 'tween
the dewdrop'd baubles
splashing in spirits of darkly
relentless melancholy echoes***
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
long before light graced
beyond my sealed lids,
a gray lady sat sewing
squares, "for foundation."
her accent was like the
magenta strips with
which she bordered:
a boy needs foundation,
boundaries to teach him
his boundlessness, dirt
in which to sink his feet.
and unlike my foundational
quilt, linked so firmly to the earth,
she faded
first to rose, and then
to silver pink before
dissipating
into dusted petal wither.
i'll meet her on the next go around.
my sixteenth was bitter-themed
and my parents gave me
a mexican blanket,
colored like mother,
aqueous aquamarine
and patterned like father,
those angular and triangular
movements;
woven just like theirs,
to give me rest and
haven on the roads
of my inevitable adventures.
and when i am eighteen
the women of my family
will meet with needles
and spools, and wool
to click-clack and chit-chat
over my adulthood -
and when it is done,
i will behold azure
like the heavens
entangled with warm tones
and spun prayers
to cocoon
in the chill of
carolina's coast
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
Yesterday
in the cotton folds of the black eye
a startled sentience exploded with atomicity
building up in power and decimating the dust lanes beside
as we lay in the comforts of our littlest cores
and spraying its jets across the galaxies
touching the oldest star lights beyond
crimson and aqueous in all amber echoes
crushing down our systems of eternal purity
pulling together and dissipating
for millenia distances meet by vibrations
conflicts of heart and the love of joy
rearing their ugly colours in brevity
but shattering consciousness for moments––––––––
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 12:44 AM UTC
There's one small thing I wish the infinite horizon that lies there
To see
When you're standing here there's nothing greater to contemplate
With me
To feel that brilliant abyss across splendid land and sea
Shining out
As within those eyes I used nothing more and simply grand
To know
Chief grandiose and simplicity those eyes I loved so
To know
Beauty aqueous and of earth are feelings of my heart's abyss
Shining out
Thoughts so constant- effortlessly you stand close inadvertently
With me
Be the infinite horizon I want I wish too many small things
To see
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 7:48 PM UTC
The suit in question
Is grey. Pin-striped white.
Double-breasted. Three piece.
Blue tie, grey hatching.
An absolute nightmare to change into.
I drop my jeans
In the monastery stall,
Shed my shoes.
Old friends.
The trousers, slacks,
Rise morning fog
And sleep in the stratus
Of my waist.
I really wonder how
The men of the then
Could have worn them.
So much taller.
So much grander.
So much straighter.
White shirt with
The butterfly tracks,
Make-up stains
From a billion ancestors.
Dead relatives that don’t
Respond to the call.
I take their places
Without a single
Crumb of guilt,
O feel the guilt.
The vest. Easy enough.
Yeast but grey and it
Rises horizontally.
I’ve just noticed pockets
Sewn into maddening teases.
The barest suggestion
Of an opening.
It holds like the bowl of the moon.
The coat. The great monarch.
Organizer with a clipboard
Ensuring the quality
Of a burlesque of silk.
So strange.
So other.
So queer.
In a minute or two, the
Hyperhydrosis.
It really is my only hope
Of describing my true temperature.
I will ignite in a biological
Soliloquy that can
Pronounce all those tricky
Thoughts I’ve given up
For the stage.
Gentle gravity,
Cruel crushing backhand.
Burst my complexion,
Steal my aqueous words.
Again, this suit.
How many Lomans,
Bankers, adjudicators,
Businessmen and Babbits
Have lived out their deaths
In you?
Brave rain cloud,
Where is your lining?
I feel the quip swelling
And project it to the back wall:
Only the costume knows true reincarnation.
Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 1:21 PM UTC
-
i couldn’t call you smoke, gaseous,
(though you are organic by definition)
for you [(we)re] mostly the milky ringlets
of ethanol drops in water, aqueous
always reacting
breaking bonds
without combustion
burning tight-rope bridges
you could barely balance
with the released chemical
energy and unknown power
of your lips sepa/r/ating
to smi(rk?)le
so(me)one pruned your boughs back
so coldly
your flower dreams grayed
to sustain your verdancy
aren’t you tired?
-
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 12:29 PM UTC
Unpolished weathered wood plays on my palms,
I pull and reach and pull an even beat
Attending algae'd oars aqueous psalm
Altered by the tangled grass I meet,
in counterpoint small waves percuss the prow
Accentuating the pause before I cull,
Mellifluous zephyrs bowing across my brow
Enhance the exposition of the gulls,
Above the hem of heaven's dress the bright
Cerulean bodice trilled with Cirrus lace
Beguiles regard, but maddeningly polite
She smooths her skirt across the score of space
Eclipsing a poet's want to read the ruse,
This lady only lingers to amuse.
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 3:32 PM UTC
In this rare natural preserve,
cardinals cheer from nests in tree towers
sheltered by veils of plush green leaves
as frisky herds of baby deer
hop, skip and dance
with the grace of ballerinas
on the grassy knoll below.
The keen ear discerns
the whisper of streams
spilling over shallow beds
of igneous rocks
spearing through the translucence
of aqueous purity
not yet muddied by elements
destructive to the green movement.
Far removed from the huff and puff of industry,
where a breath of fresh air
is a luxury long forgotten,
and wheezing lungs abound,
the natural preserve
takes us to higher ground
where the scenes and sounds
of natural synergies
touch the heart,
cleanse the spirit,
and soothe the soul.
~ P (#Pablo#hg)
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 11:43 AM UTC
From within the convoluted mass,
under the thatched dome
and behind the aqueous lights;
across untraceable connections,
through routes bridged
and those bridged out;
madly scavenging backyards—
secret lattice stairs leading to
three stage subterranean cellars;
retracing swale worn steps
through made-up rooms, and
higher still,
to the cobweb dormer attic,
grabbing. Thumping. Tossing.
Disgorging the till and tailings
until the exasperation mounts
like the minds bulk, to locate
a single word— not the perfect word,
but the only word,
which, tongue bowed and harped,
will cavort delightedly with its neighbors.
Jan 7, 2011
Jan 7, 2011 at 5:55 PM UTC
Phyyt phoo, two aqueous lenses peeling through, the oxygen layers.
Pupils turn as they unfold, hungrier for light behind burnt sand barriers.
The switchboard like a carnivorous plant field independently moves points
And compacted, segmented panels respond like exoskeletal joints
There come the staccato screams of steam one at a time, puff, lining the door
Capsule, contaminated with air, is cleaned when the beetles wing lifts the floor
The boy I was, offers a raised thumb from the ground, science disciple
With Helium fission equations on a sheet hanging from a bible.
My eyes behind a visor open slowly, it’s time to take control
Still tears slowly lift from my face like a violin bow rising to sing low
Now in a place where time means nothing I can’t regret a thing
I just wish this clinical empty cold on all, to take the warmth that lies bring
With Creaking myofibril strings so imperfect in this black vacuum dream
I shake the hand of god; with polystyrene gloves as his work is so unclean.
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 7:27 PM UTC
when i think about you
i think about how my heart tried to hit the brakes
throw my anatomy into neutral
calm
contained
but you crashed me into a meadow
where dandelions rest upon my collarbones
and roses grow inside my atria
i think about how i would use the ash from your cigarette
and trace the veins on your arms
trying to make a map
so i’d never go off track
so my fingers could run marathons on your ribs
so my fingers could tie your heartstrings in knots
in hopes the feeling would never leave
i think about how when you say you love me
my mind grows heavy with ‘what-ifs’
‘for how long’
and ‘what about him’
but when i look into your eyes
and i see us
diving in and out of your aqueous humor
ripping the retina from the walls and making our own colors
i know who i am
i know who i need to be
i think about how making love with you
turns my body into a wave
frequency high enough to shatter the chandeliers
the chandeliers that reflect you back to me
the chandeliers that sway with each breath we take
when i think about you
i think about the best parts of this world
the love and the hope
and how i wish to experience all of these
with you
hand in hand
driving past the meadow
refusing to step on the brakes
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
Funny how our tears contain Aqueous Humor.
Ironic how your tears are meant to provoke a linguistic laugh
To whomever made the substance up, thank you
Because every time I cry, I'll crack up at my pathetic life
Laughter and tears will go hand in hand
Like ******* and gruyère.
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 1:40 AM UTC
math equations do their part
but how did existence find its start?
galaxies spin in aqueous tornadoes
twirling and swirling and on it goes
so elegant, perfected like Ballet Russus
yet furious with gravity's selfish pulls
like clutching claws of greedy fools
your unending motion, such loyal devotion
despite no praise from the silent darkness
births and deaths of stars alike
Fibonacci directs the nature's psyche
to form and destruct,
gain and deduct
my conscience results of the conscious
and conscious results from existence
is it the code of science,
or the laws of a Godly alliance?
this never ending bafflement
results in my soul's temperament.
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 3:43 PM UTC
As the fire burns me alive, it feasts upon my skin
greedily ******* the oxygen from my lungs
I can feel the heat licking at my body
It started at my feet
But it won't stop there...
I can feel the Smoke filling me
With every gasp my weak body forces me to take
I'm given no choice
As the Smoke saunters into my airways
Slithers down my lungs
Down to the very last alveolus.
As the endless coughing begins, I ponder my actions
I think of what I did to deserve this
I know what I did
I sinned
An unpardonable sin
I was me
The flames continue, though I ignore them
Although the trepidation inside me burns just as badly.
I will not regret.
Why would I regret doing the only thing I was ever good at?
I was me.
I cannot beg for mercy
But I can stare into their eyes
Into their judgmental souls
I see what they do not:
They are not them.
Not a single person among them is true to self.
I smile
I breath in this staunch air, heavier than the blanket
of breathlessness that I've been enveloped in
for days now
Maybe years even
I'm sure
I think
A single tear tries to offer me one last aqueous solace
Before it withers in the heat
I still can't believe it all had to go this far
I cannot beg for mercy
I won't pretend I'm sorry
I won't let myself down
It's my turn now.
I will light the way.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC