"aridity" poems
Unburdens the dusky river
*dreams of flow dead in the bog of hyacinth
harvest burnt in the scorch of aridity
ripples robbed by the silt of dogma
sunbeam denied by the **** of creed*
**I was meant to reach the sea,
now I would never make it.**
I pick the river's shattered pieces
with my own from the wintry dusk.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 9:13 AM UTC
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 8:30 AM UTC
dwarfed and obscure,
sit neatly arranged for all to adore.
Parched from the aridity, neglected by the sun,
I the bonsai never truly begun.
Cast in the shadows, growing off to the side,
never fully ***** always wanting to hide.
I the bonsai have the capacity to grow,
a little warmth and attention is all I need you know.
Oct 12, 2019
Oct 12, 2019 at 6:40 AM UTC
It's hard to fall in love again
Because after all that I've been through
I very strongly believe that the only ones who can ever truly love you back
Are your parents and your dog
It's hard to fall in love again
Because I was born and brought up in a culture which said that all that matters is the outside
And the inside can just go **** off
It's hard to fall in love again
Because it is shown that being fair is the only way you can be lovely
That all matrimonials ever wanted was a slim and b'ful lady
If this was an MCQ, I'll be the none of these
It's hard to fall in love again
Because I'm scared all men just want the body with curves and face like an angel
That the only things that should be big are your **** and your ***
Because who gives a **** about a big heart
It's hard to fall in love again
Because the words that he said in the past still haunt me, telling me that I'm not good enough
Pretty enough, **** enough, anything enough to be loved
It's hard to fall in love again
Because eventhough I read quotes on how beauty comes from within, it's proved wrong with every single encounter
Which leads to be believe that all that movies and books ever taught us about romance is absolute ********
That the only reason Jack ever loved Rose was because, well, she was ******* hot
It's hard to fall in love again
Because people don't see that you're born with the skin but it takes effort to build the soul
Because the skin will form wrinkles and sag with time
But the soul and the mind won't
It's hard to fall in love again
Because I don't want to add more to my list of insecurities and brokenness which scar me forever
Because I don't want to dive down and down and down into my worn out self esteem
It's so ******* hard to fall in love again
So I laugh it off and joke around
But everytime I see you
I really, really want to fall in love again
But I'm scared that you'll do the same and break whatever is left of me
That you'll turn me inside out and rub my imperfections till they burn
That you'll laugh with your friends and say
Where did that ***** even gather the guts from to come up to me and say, "Hey man, I like you"
Like that's the worst thing anyone could ever say to you?
They say
Love is a drug
But I think I'm in rehab
They say
Don't be cynical about love because in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
It is as perennial as the grass
But I think I'm better off in a barren land
A place that can accept me for who I am
So the next time you ask,
"Are you dating someone?"
And I reply with a snort and say, "Huh, look at me. No one would want to be with me."
And you say, "No, looks don't matter and the personality-"
I'll punch you in the ******* face
Because to hell with all your crap
You won't want to be me even for a single day
You won't want to be the ugly girl standing in the corner of the hallway
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 7:03 AM UTC
It is raining outside,
Everything wet,
Soil, tree, terrace, flower *** gate, wall,,,,
But aridity stifles inside,
Head, heart, hand.....
Like the fruits of silk cotton tree,
Cutlery ruptures thought
Humanist is slaughters on the street.....
But slayer forget that
In extreme dryness
When fruits of dry Cotton silk tree explode
It’s diffuse
Germinate in wet soil
and grow everywhere,
Humanist will emit all over again!
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
*Reading poems today on Hello Poetry
This is what came to me as the Love
Mete with so much needs of ALL!!!*
Desiderata
***Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.***
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
Master builder of hanging audio of the hearts,
Tapping and mapping
a
kind of music through the vocabulary of arts,
in
conducting the harmonious sound of unique violin orchestra
a crowd of fiddlesticks rima …
up… and only ups…
never downs.
Audio
Audio…
I will go…true or false.
That’s what you ask for it. If you ask me to stay, I would never say no.
Have you ever seen me on the occasion of disobeying you?
Neither yes, nor no…
Thirsty and aridity,
Words dance glamorously in the silence of the mud of bricks
You will construct the magic towers of the world gust (crust).
On the apex
Trapper of heights
you
Shaking hand for all ant size human shape creatures
In down.
I’am member among.
Time flies and melts in icy doom of the word “why”… burning agitatedly on the white eyes.
Don’t look at me.
Whatever had been shaped, like thunder of emotional burst digs …digs in insomnia of rapid nightmares
of mine.
O' liberty…
Don’t be dubious of what you are going to do, Master architecture of heavenly domes of long treatise of eloquence and good sounds.
Hissing….sooozzzing….biippping ….buzzzing….moooppping….murmers….
Claps and shouts.
Ant shaped creatures gather under the grand dome and waiting for miraculous mesmerize.
No more I am among.
Master builder of raw materials
in vivid shape of “new oregano (m).”
Time runs and I am not “going to catch a falling star.”
Time of demise.
Heavy lock on mouths. Death of both of us in constructing the luxurious roads never ended in dead end of not being honest and neither being wise.
Master designer of unique arches…domes…abstruse stairs…
Audio…audio. I will go…for you and ours.
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 12:36 AM UTC
The dream state number one
The caught artist within the vortex
A drowned state and lost soul
As the eyes swirl and look up
And look up until they drop
A strange aridity covers the flesh
Gauze revealing the idea
Leaving enough hidden.
The final trip - californication?
The restaurants’ in New York
Blatantly bare. Now Iconography
Undersigned scarcely unmade up
The deep eyes plundering a life
Through an eye for art maybe
Taken from the mesh.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 6:31 AM UTC
There is a quality to desolation
that I have never seen.
I have been in a desert, touched
the aridity of it’s soil, and its
air like hot feathers
on my breath;
I have seen the sea far out
with only a blue smudge on
the horizon
to mark our return.
But I have never felt that terror,
that awe and loneliness
that has been spoken of,
and said by the poets
and deliverers,
to bring ones face
to God.
Do not misunderstand me.
I have felt these things;
at the end of a trail
leading nowhere,
on a slope
with loose stones
for footholds.
I have been in places of terror
and beauty,
and been overthrown.
But not wholly.
Perhaps
I have not been still
enough, have not lingered
in those part-wild places
that have seen the summit
of my fear, my longing.
Perhaps even they, even
they, have what I seek.
Perhaps
I have not been still
enough.
Nov 5, 2021
Nov 5, 2021 at 11:57 AM UTC
Feeling your touch distantly,
calling out your name in whispers unsaid.
Playing hard to get isn't fun
if your not playing too,
simply - your
hard to hold on to,
I've already tried catching you.
Dancing, moving, flowing,
like a ribbon in the sky....
broken free from loose strands......
caught the smiles,
the shy looks, the hand holding.
So long Oh so so so very long now
I've knew & known those strong hands
holding me.
we've configured our bodies,
embraced- the soft silky smooth texture of skin,
golden perfectly formed muscles ,
holding me tight up against your chiseled chest
as we merge- twist swing push pull spin
again again again & again.
spinning round around round & around
songs mingled melodies spark causing us to get closer,
closer closer & even closer...
I'm trapped luxuriously- your mmm unreal
intoxication- like webs of stars
caught on my dream catcher.
hips pressed close legs mingle
as we twist this and that way.
hand on the swell of my backside,
Squeeze turn pause- dipping low lower,
dip me again - magnetize my alluring persona.
Alleviate this unknown aridity that leaves
me dry mouthed
longing for your touch once more.
Songs ending it's last call
Butterfly's catch in the pit of my stomach,
after seeing you with her
seeing you shyly smile up
at her while you forget.
the touch of our hands,
the smell of our scent & sweat mingled as one
like lover for the very first time
the floor was our bed
our playground until the music
drifted
softly slowly away & she came into
focus....
stepping back i look from you to her
holding my breath when you truned my way,
You bowed over my hand kissed it lovingly.
Causing longing, craving & hot flashes
for hours until now- mingled with sweaty palms
as you walk past me back to her side.
am i playing the wrong game?
Every weekend with you it's almost the same.
You find me- stalk me until i relentlessly give in,
dancing, swaying,
bodies so close causing us to forget ,
forget it all.......
Dance floor becoming our bedroom,
so many times so many hours
swaying- flowing bodies intertwined,
meshed together again & again.
spinning around & round.
With me me me & you oh you you you
your dipping me .
your hands always mmm always on
my lower back,
music loudly sweetly drumming
like our heart beats
becoming our Tantra Taboo(s).....
she smiles at me then looks up- smiling
gleefully in your eyes
as you both walk out the dance hall....
**** I shouldn't of expected a **** thang-
Oh well that's what happens more often than not- to me
on a
Friday Night(s)
Always Me Ayeshah
Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 4:59 AM UTC
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 12:11 AM UTC
Magic oftentimes
Come from the sickest minds
And poetry
Born from the aches
Of loneliness
Write...
And make some lemonades
Out of the aridity
Of this life.
Jun 12, 2021
Jun 12, 2021 at 7:34 AM UTC
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
- Max Ehrmann
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 8:56 PM UTC
Unburdens the dusky river
dreams of flow dead in the bog of hyacinth
harvest burnt in the scorch of aridity
ripples robbed by the silt of dogma
sunbeam denied by the **** of creed
I was meant to reach the sea,
now I would never make it.
I pick the river's shattered pieces
with my own from the wintry dusk.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
It is generally supposed we come to this place
As a just reward for treachery and traitorousness.
Indeed, nothing could be farther from the truth;
Most of my compatriots her have blindly hitched their fortunes
To some flag, some shining dogma, our fates sealed
Through an unwillingness to be sufficiently self-interested,
The refusal to abandon ship once it became apparent
That the experience upon the rocks
Would be neither enabling nor ennobling.
My own case is illustrative of the rule;
My father, noble sovereign ascending to the throne
Via parlor tricks and the rustic embrace of folk legend,
(The fornication resulting in my birth brushed aside
As some accident of mistaken identity or enchantment)
Is celebrated, beatified really, in song and legend,
Yet I, who pulled myself up by my own bootstraps as it were,
Winning his queen’s hand and defeating him on the field,
Am consigned to this unhappy place in perpetuity,
Suffering demons who hiss ******* Usurper!*
As they put me through my paces
(One takes their rebukes with a grain of salt;
They are all mad, the likely result of dealing with this glut of madmen.)
As I noted, the presence of myself and my brethren in this place
Serve as a testament to the merits of fidelity,
Which we commemorate daily, some days several times
(I confess it seems more than a touch silly,
But the necessity of creating distractions
Trumps other concerns in a locale such as this)
By staging caucus races, each participant addressing
The ******* in front of him directly,
Paying it fealty--My liege! My liege!--which is answered in turn
By a cannonade of noxious farting
(We assume the smells to be offensive,
As the atmosphere here is somewhat deleterious at all times)
All to the great amusement of those sprites
Who observe our machinations,
They in turn guffawing madly and urinating downward upon us
While we, as the acidic waste corrodes us, also cackle like lunatics,
Fairly shouting Ah, the gentle rain of Heaven--thank you, Lord!
Though, oddly enough, our laughter at times
(Most likely due to the aridity of the atmosphere around us)
Seems to catch a bit in the throat.
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC
We pair of home-comers
built from painful baggage a water-tight dream,
we painted an idyll of walled delight.
A bright corner where care could cover old scars.
Oh that happy hand-in-glove fit of regenerative
pleasure which we dared to admit
into the picture of autumnal love.
Such easy laughter sparked need to spend more
new-found treasure in glad togetherness.
Fresh as youth the stream we dug from aridity.
Your tenderness stoked heat
in forgotten feelings, blazed pathways to places
I had never been
and seared heaven into every greeting.
So gentle our mountain
of unleashed freedom that time gave us
chances to climb to new heights.
I thrived in sweet air of acceptability.
You re-sculpted sallow existence, blushed my
palid future, accessed the girl inside
and unfastened this
latched-up former conformist.
You let loose love's abandon and I did not refuse.
Beautiful man your breath
warmed every fold of compatible essence, toned
any slack in my short-sighted outlook
and de-misted
smeared myopic signals.
Duo-passion soon oiled and honed rarely used
adaptability so we could reach bliss.
Our joinings were something greater than flesh
and that better otherness I shall
always remember.
No ocean of parting can break devotion's deep
integrity and I know for certain
we shall meet again.
Oh unforgettable man
you stole into destiny, captured my soul
and now you hold it forever.
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 9:53 AM UTC
Here in a sleepy hamlet
in the shadow of Top Hill
amid barren aridity
I am hiding.
A runaway
from my family, friends,
familiar faces,
and also
from myself!
Why I call them friends?
My family
who cares coz I earn,
friends
all fair weather,
familiar faces
that breed only contempt,
and the most deadly myself,
the untiring aspirer
in home, office, deals,
the macabre face on the mirror,
sartorially correct
refined manners
polished etiquette
but inside a greedy *****
ever ready to sell his soul
at the sight of a penny!
Here no one can find me
and I’ve to work hard
to turn my inside out
carry it atop Top Hill
for the sun to bake
the rains to wash
and the moon to bathe
my reincarnate!
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 7:58 AM UTC
I am the oasis I seek,
because Source is there
to quench my thirst and shade my brow.
I rest my weariness in Its bowering Love.
I renew myself in Its gentle breath.
The way before me no longer leads me into mental aridity, but
into soulful moistness and earthy imagination.
I and my Source are soulmates and lovers.
c. 2014
Roberta Compton Rainwater
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 12:00 PM UTC
we write now past anger,
but nearer to the closing
…
the period of our lives, here,
at the end of this poem
and with every day,
every word, every look,
i·so·la·tion
is now redefined as:
des·o·la·tion
(a state of complete emptiness or destruction barrenness bleakness starkness misery melancholy gloom bareness dismalness grimness aridity sterility wildness anguished misery loneliness despondency despair distress)
now, it too is redefined as:
we can no longer look at our children faces...
Jul 31, 2020
Jul 31, 2020 at 11:22 AM UTC
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others,
even to the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 9:28 AM UTC
The relentless clock ticks
like a pseudo heartbeat,
prattling platitudes
of sententious pity.
Two decades summons pragmatism:
a mouth to kiss,
a place to eat, to ****
and shove like lambing ewe.
Set it in stone at twenty-five;
a diamond glares from Facebook,
a Gorgon eye, a quick click analgesic.
Marry overborne bricks
and surrender nature’s piquancy
to kitchens where flies ****
on all the dinners not savoured.
Probe for passion in drains,
Tupperware, between stale sheets.
Aridity resists fornication
in a ***** for absent frisson;
a stretch across oceans,
portenous as premature world-weary yawns,
Three syllables ought to roll easily
yet sear acidic, two tongues curtailed
and bourne back into silence.
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 5:20 AM UTC
Flowers fight flowers
To aridity
In my chest
Such is a penance
Must paid
For your distant benevolence
A liveliness so ecstatic
It slays and slays
All bits
Of melancholy peace
I’ve known
Lust you,
I lust you to war
Lust you, I lust you on
Nothing purer dare I claim
Lest the Sirens
Whirling
Within your gaze
Question the chastity
I have so well known
There is a desolation
Beneath this devouring tide
And you do not get me
You do not understand
I have always
Loved bleakness
Have always loved
A piece or two
Of you
And here
Bees fight bees
And the carnage
Weaves you a golden dirge
Soft as satin and softer still
Will you not hear—
Will you not?
I sink and sink
with the fair maidens
Who lured me to stillness
And not a note
Not a tune stirs its gentle wings
Your mute Muses
They know not a taste
Of hues
And I lure myself
Into you
Still
How awfully beautiful
Is our dance
How bleak—
Jul 2, 2021
Jul 2, 2021 at 3:07 PM UTC
If only I knew how to mold bricks out of lone
I’d build you a house
And paint it with flowers
That mimic the colourless
hues of your gaze
Leaves, I’d tie to stooping fingers
Of our barren talks
Fruits with moonlight in their stout tummies
your chapped lips
They envy the sweetness of
Do you know?
(Too bold a flattery, you say—
Dare me then; dare you)
Gentle I’d go
Show them the tree
And they’d make their nests
In its laden boughs
A crown on your head
Weaved out of patience
I’d softly place
If only I knew a way past this barricade
That together we built
A thousand years ago
I’d be a flock of wild geese
Guiding you out
Oh, my fluttering wings
Calmed in the sky’s blue embrace
I’d soar around in winters cruel
I’d watch and watch
The edges of our land
A bed I’d carve
Out of roses and dawns
Hang up my rivers
By the glass windows shivering in our storm
Oh, there is a kingdom
I would like to save
A bunch of bluebirds, and a quiet queen
The slender moon far, far away
If only I knew
A melody strong enough
To cure this aching rebellion
Oh, if I did! If I—
I watched, and watched the shores
Of our land
No ships came with their armours ready
Your own bluebirds,
They fight now the flowers
They ravage the fruits
If only I had a drop of divinity
Sulking somewhere inside me
I’d banish their light souls
Out of their bodies
But bluebirds,
Are pretty
And so is the mayhem
And so is silence,
And you aridity
Lurk at a distance,
I know not
What to build out of this lone
Jul 13, 2021
Jul 13, 2021 at 3:08 PM UTC
please allow arability of friendship
and hoop fully this acquiescence
can render an accord shared
via exchanging calumet peace pipe
initially invoked qua
piercing, gouging, digging...from hooked aquilinity
upon awareness miss applying the squaw aridity
mine swallowing capacity as pins pricking
a voodoo likeness doll (of me),
though this claim could steeped
in utter contrived artificiality
fusing flagrant faulty aromaticity
asininity admitting absent attentiveness
as ska walking a fine line
betwixt asexuality behooves
rectification allowing solution Wiccan agree
upon linking assimilability, assignability, assiduity
implicating with asperity ***** err roan
nee huss rubble word choice prompting asperity
inducing me to cast the first stone
of apology, and self awareness
totally tubularly offer thyself as human sacrifice
redeeming conceding unalterable venal tone
role of squawking chief fowl ling at the end zone
regarding, where associatively properly went
assumability, anonymity of the internet vent
ting modality adopting immunity,
viz virtual community tent
revival meeting adumbrating atypicality, attainability
avoidance of audiological atrocity, sans atonality sent
to ear rate, the autoimmunity authority,
authenticity, austerity, audacity, co rent
ting availability, automaticity, accessibility
asper automobility to scale tenement, pent
house, or pre faux ying bing avascularity,
avidity, avuncularity avers automatically tall lent
aim to amble along xy feigning tubby
with minimal audibility clark kent
information superhighway
axiality grid via galavanting gent
can be activated swimmingly
with less overt axe said dent.
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 7:34 PM UTC
5:14 am. Window sill. Sun is rising to light a new day.
Last cigarette. Coffee cup. I’m lost and alone.
I don’t sleep at all and the lack of the sun is just killing me.
And I can clearly say: I’m not happy. And I don’t blame myself.
I just have to learn how to trust.
I realize that nothing’s gonna change in a while.
And I have no idea how I’m gonna handle it.
And that aridity is just killing me.
I have that feeling that you weren’t here for a long time.
Actually I feel like I’ve never met you.
It shouldn’t be that way but you gave me no choice.
I have to learn how to be indifferent.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC