"astonishing" poems
People are just as lovely
as sunsets,
Beautiful hues of pink,
will seep from their pores.
Astonishing shades of orange,
may flow from their hands.
Purple and blues
slide from their eyes.
You just have to be watching
at all the right times.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC
See the thing with growing up with a single mother
I had to learn how to be a man by her and my older brother
But if I didn't have that strong woman
I don't know where I would be
Honestly,
She the one who pushed me to be me
The me that I wanted to be
Telling me I can do whatever
I dreamed
Yet still punishing me
A woman like that is an astonishing thing
Something you don't find often
But I got her
And I know she's a blessing
Because everybody don't have
A mother who cares
And a mother whose there
Even when I had nothing
Not even for my stomach
I had my mother
And she had more love for me
Than I could stomach
More advice than I could bother to hear
She could make any pain disappear
But she also got a side
That you never want to to hear
But she's my mom
So I always hold her near....
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
My parrot is emerald green,
His tail feathers, marine.
He bears an orange half-moon
Over his ivory beak.
He must be believed to be seen,
This bird from a Rousseau wood.
When the urge is on him to speak,
He becomes too true to be good.
He uses his beak like a hook
To lift himself up with or break
Open a sunflower seed,
And his eye, in a bold white ring,
Has a lapidary look.
What a most astonishing bird,
Whose voice when he chooses to sing
Must be believed to be heard.
That stuttered staccato scream
Must be believed not to seem
The shriek of a witch in the room.
But he murmurs some muffled words
(Like someone who talks through a dream)
When he sits in the window and sees
The to-and-fro wings of wild birds
In the leafless improbable trees.
12.7k
Two boys
and girls
unclothed each other
simply at a picnic
flush with wine
alongside
sun-flecked trees.
The girls,
easy as the
forest round,
burned,
delicious,
as the boys
eager and nervous
in unequal measure
partly gave up
concealing
their joys
at forgetting
or remembering
in flickers
their bare bodies.
It went on
over nettles
and half-hours
and clambered
trees and
photos taken
almost formally
(on film,
of course).
And boyish lust,
at first sinuous,
a darting tongue,
began to
soften against,
for instance,
the sheer,
unthinkable
texture
of the two
girls carved
now backward
over the bough
of a storm-felled elm.
And there
in the embers
of evening
they learned
to thrill originally
at the vast,
gorgeous
and astonishing
irrelevance
of what
might happen next.
Jan 26, 2011
Jan 26, 2011 at 7:05 AM UTC
A joker
A partner
A friend
A lover (?)
Suave
Too copacetic
For even you
To handle
Yet
When I am in your presence
I cannot help
But feel
The inferno
That radiates
Through our bodies
In astonishing harmony
So much so
That a single graze of your skin on mine
Sets the entirety of my figure
A blaze
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 5:22 PM UTC
Calamitous collapse of structure forged
With steel and concrete built for time,
Since Roman times a formula endured
With engineers additional design.
Why, then, did this structure fail,
Did mortar crack, did reinforcing strong,
Shear and plummet in an instants time
To crush and doom this bridges song.
In teeming rain a silence hung
Where watchers gaped in stunned awe,
A magnitude of devastation lay
Pulverized in valley floor.
Astonishing this expanse of space
Where seconds past, huge edifice,
Imbued with its’ charge of lives
Unknowingly to meet abyss.
Innocence has lost its’ life
Blame resounds around the room
Someone shall pay the price
For negligence in causing doom.
Truth be told it’s shared by all
For Italy has lagged behind
Cost cutting infrastructures’ purse
Because of economic bind.
Time to reassess the plan
Time to weep and bury dead,
Clear the rubble from the land
Rebuild well then forge ahead.
Blame not the engineer
Nor the man who drew design,
Blame not the hardhat
Who poured the concrete in the line.
Reassign the budget spend
To infrastructure, pay its share
For sentiment is running hot
To axe the fool who pares the fare.
M.
Storeman
Civil Infrastructure
Hamilton, NEW ZEALAND
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 10:41 PM UTC
Magnificent was the colour of the skies and the rain that danced on our bare skin.
Magnificent was the fingers that interlaced, like soft lips and soft bodies, soft eyes
Magnificent was the taste of her love and ecstasy brought with each touch tonight
Magnificent I felt, my hands all over her heart, her body, I did not know where to begin
Magnificent you were, melting under the heat through the cracks of my fingers, astonishing
How do I even describe, the burning feelings, the feeling that swallowed me whole drowning in the lies
Our dance, tempting and I cannot resist until the end of the song, until the end of time.
I know of its nature, I know it’s wrong but why do I still continue, still continue to sin?
Magnificent you were, drowning in my arms, feeling each and every moment fill you up
Magnificent was the night, the day, the afternoon. The sun sets and burns, the orange of the sky fills your room
Magnificent, magnificent, your voice will break if you continue on and whine like that
Magnificent was each touch, sensual and breathless, my hands trailing down her soul and into her mind, ready to corrupt
Magnificent was the smell of lust, the revival of each burning passion felt that will lead to my doom
Magnificent, Magnificent was she sitting in heaven alone, perhaps my heart isn’t good enough, just not good enough for that. -
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
Saw her first at cousin's weddinG,
She looked astonishing I knew where it was headinG
Escorting the bride she came in smilinG
My eyes got glued on her and my heart started poundinG.
Afraid of her brother but she agreed to meeT,
I got there first, where the buses fleeT,
Time and place was on her to fiX,
Excited, I reached before the clock tickS,
There I saw her waving at platform thirty siX.
Time freezed for a while,
Walking towards her a million thoughts ran through my mind,
Was that really her or someone else!?
But that same magical smile and my heart again melts.
Simple, yet pleasant I liked her stylE,
But the best thing was definitely her smilE,
I got lost , stammered in speech for a whilE,
She was confident and I got nervous blood profilE.
The place was new ,
None of us had any clue,
I was sweaty , the day seems hottest,
Perhaps the oddest in the whole August.
Black and white top and she blingS,
Leather sandals and those shiny earingS,
The watch was pink , hairs were perfect readY,
But **** her luggage was real heavY!
Got in a cab, and some comfy place to talK,
She was in a hurry, but i had all the clocK,
She was bold at the same time cooL,
And I was smiling for no reason like a fooL.
More time I wanted to spend,
But getting her home safe and sound was important in the end.
Got her a bus had to bid a good bye,
And my hopes of meeting her soon are sky high! :)
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
From far away a breeze in a rush comes;
From far away the sky breaks into crumbs.
A brightening purple lightning,
it is both enlightening and frightening.
In rhythm with my pulse flashes burst,
horripilated, in purple I am immersed.
With every heartbeat in my veins,
with every grain of sand in my hands,
I watch that ray of light on the edge of all my nerves,
how unpredictable it is, how it swerves.
First silent in a bare heavenly light
it strokes your skin, that godly shine.
Then loud, purple turns to night;
It brings forth hell from the most divine.
Tender lake, it does not wave, stars remain, above is calm;
Purple surrounds me, I’m in the middle of its palm.
Purple trembles the sand and lake, faster and faster,
without any pester, it just simply embraces all in fester.
Every breath like last I gasp;
I sit in awe, this is beyond any human’s grasp.
No reason, no choice, no need;
The most peaceful thing now I see, it is from it.
It does not decide, it just makes its own path;
Astonishing beauty I find in that purple, atop its wrath.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 8:16 PM UTC
What?
well don't be shocked,
it's genetic coded,
drilling for dimples
my parents did it
to me,
down the food chain,
for a millennium,
Baby Boomers, Millennials,
Gen X, Gen Y, Gen Z
it will be done forever,
auto-naturally
place the pointer finger
gently upon each cheek,
commence so soft
digging, twisting for
the oil of human smiles,
the reward, astonishing!
a shocking discovery
made this morn!
*you can do it too
"going up the stairs,"
to Grandmas, Nana's,
if you catch them,
and with extra care spent,
soft so soft when
they are
just waking up,
when their inner kid
is sleepy showing*
drill a dimple,
drill, baby, drill,
if your baby/is
six or sixty,
at any age,
kissing an
unexpected smile,
most worthwhile!
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
Persephone runs amok, her hair caught on tendrils of wind,
eyes lucid as emeralds; aware, alive.
Hope is sketched on her face as if drawn by whoever paints the sunset,
pulsating with the reflection of neon cities, rolling countryside,
the adrenaline-pumping moment before a rollercoaster’s descent.
She is high on happiness, running across her plane of existence
with only her converse sneakers and extraordinary ambitions.
Persephone knows she owes her unbridled youthfulness to Demeter.
Demeter, who is stern but unconditionally loving,
selfless, for when she hears her daughter’s plea for food she stops
her spoon midway through a bite.
When Persephone struggles with the perpetual torture of arithmetics,
Demeter’s sheer intelligence is astonishing, the iridescent reflection of
Persephone’s aspirations, for a problem to Demeter is merely
a hidden solution, a failure only a victory in waiting.
If only Demeter knew how her words are of the highest value,
her pleased smile the only affirmation to a job well done.
Her love cradled in the nook of Persephone memories,
every moment she is infinitely grateful to co-exist,
grateful for the Universe to award her the simple pleasure
of loving her parent with purity and stripped of conditions.
As Persephone runs, she glances back for a mere second,
in her smile is the mirror of her naivety,
she still believes that her Gods will save her from being a slave to
the inevitable corruption on Earth and Olympus,
for she is sure her untarnishable love for Demeter is her protector.
Yet, you know how the story goes.
In an instant, Persephone is falling into the Underworld, on the back of a beautiful monster into inescapable darkness.
But even then, she holds on to Demeter in thought and in prayer.
After adulthood, marriage, queenship, a childhood gone in a flash,
after her hands become worn with calluses, her face a series of rivers,
her mind expansive, her goals reached, Persephone knows she owes her unbridled youthfulness to the first person she ever loved.
I love you Dad, Happy Father’s Day.
Jun 23, 2020
Jun 23, 2020 at 10:45 AM UTC
If you burn a flower,
it happens slowly. (to you)
It may be astonishing
to watch and smell and feel,
but just look at what you've done
to the flower...
There are traces left;
the scent lingers,
but that flower will never be the same.
The colors are no longer vibrant.
The flower becomes stale and dried out.
It becomes so frail
that touching it
could wither the rest
of what is left behind.
The worst part is that
you have never been,
could never be a flower.
You don't know what it is
to be a flower, you don't know
what it feels like when it is burning.
You blindly take action against nature
not fearing the consequence.
Nature is there for you,
nature takes care of you.
Look at what you have done
to this beautiful flower that you
once held so dear?
Foolish little boy;
once you stop caring for your planet,
the planet no longer takes an interest in you.
It no longer respects you,
feels the need to protect and nurture you.
You have taken this flower,
this gift of the universe and damaged it.
When the rain stops falling and the gardens
cease growth, don't curse the skies and the soil.
Return to the empty flower-bed where you
found that brilliant flower standing,
firmly rooted in the earth and extending up
to you awaiting it's water and food.
Feeding you it's beloved oxygen.
That flower is gone,
it has moved on to a new life,
with new purpose.
Once you waste something away,
you cannot get it back.
The lesson is hard to learn,
but none the less, you have learned it.
It is a s h a m e ,
the earth loses flowers every day
for little boys to learn big lessons.
kd
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 6:48 AM UTC
Life is full of mischief and artful trickery
The way through never made easy for the foolhardy
Misleading gestures only employed to solely distract
Left up to you to decipher and hopefully extract
Experiences teach much, had you only been accepting and learning
That a dove could be made to appear; out of thin air, out of nothing
When the road ahead offers no more than mere misdirections
Altered trajectories stemming from convenient misinterpretations
Your cards may have been dealt revealing astonishing outcomes
"Not the hand you get but the game you play," said some
Depending on deft wrists and a flick of the wand
Overnight you'll wake to find that a new day had dawned
Only would happen if into the wind you hadn't spat
Hope would emerge like a hare out of a top hat
The play on light and shadow, nothing short of dramatic
You volunteer onstage, accompanied by apprehension and suspenseful music
Faced with an eager audience; you realise that alone you stand
Be not surprised to learn that love is life's sleight of hand...
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
We'd bound around
For golf downtown
Frisbees always in hand
"The students are coming!!”
Was a seasonal refrain
As we’d goofily gallivant
Mother’s Day shows
We‘re free, mother-suckers
For your kids, a show we grant
A CLOWN SHOW!
A DOWNTOWN SHOW!
THERE IS NOTHING WE CAN’T!
Rock their world with juggling
See the Doctor for what ails
Rudi and O in laundromat land
Jeanie, Splash, Allison, Donna,
Silly girls astonishing with
Leaps, jokes and handstands
Chewey, Steamboat and Grog
"Yeah-yeah! Yeah-yeah!”
Silly boys grandstanding
All hail Papa Gale! We
Funned with Cpt. Plunge
Leader of the band!
Sweet Georgia!
**** croquet!*
It was grand!
**** croquet was the official lawn game of the Sweet Georgia Brown Clowns during the summer 198x Trinity Country tour [wherein we masqueraded as a Norwegian Salmon Kissing team at a Moose Lodge Talent Show in Lewiston, CA* {true!}]: “Don’t forget your hat!”)
*(we won)
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
Compound eyes
Astonishing spectacles
Clairvoyant views from above
Wings glistening in the light of the sun
Buzzing long bodied mystical stories
Dragon's breath of spiritual eloquence
Releasing the bugs eating away at conscience
Skeletal spine of an egoless monk
whispering harmoniously the simple remedies
of cleansing thought
My snake doctor
Quick witted unmasker
your view 360 degrees
Focusing on the movement
and pesky mosquitos that feast
That leave us scratching our heads
I look on so enviously
at Lady Dragonfly
as she hovers angelically
In an eternal sky
It saddens me that the great one's lives are
always cut too short
but her legend lives on timelessly
Dating way back to Permian period
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 1:34 AM UTC
Isn't it astonishing,
The amount of hate
That humans have for
Each other?
If only that same effort
Was used to threaten
The crooked hand holding
Us captive.
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
Silent sorrow,
Cornered within the room built on the oceans very bottom,
Layers upon layers of darkness are a blanket to get used to, yet I am not alone; after all this world is filled with wonderful, various life.
Swarms of jellyfish, serene and clear shine off a little light through their glassy, slimy yet delicate bodies as they travel across my view,
In this world, the pressure is squeezingly tight, unforgiving and cruel,
But it amazes me to see, how little these animals mind about that,
The silence is cut by a distant cry, sounding awfully distorted to my poor little ears, which of course like the rest of my body, do not fit in.
On further notice, I gaze at the playful sight of a little whale and it's mother not far apart, their language, is astonishing yet so majestic,
Gathering the pieces of an old, dim dream I still cannot move out of my prison, yet my thoughts do not fade, the hope of being part of it.
After all, I am not human but, this world would roughly welcome me,
Never will I be able to return again, as a demon who was sealed away into this blue expanse of sea, I didn't belong to humanity anyway...
I can savely say, it is but a sea made of pure tranquility.
~ Umi
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
The mellifluous tones of his voice
Put my heart at ease
Lulled by the sound he makes,
I get lost in reverie
Is it the tenderness in his voice?
Or perhaps the words he utter?
Or his cloying expression?
I am not so sure
Whatever it may be,
My heart always sings with glee
Then I begin to cry
And express my deepest sentiment
How strange yet astonishing it is,
To feel everything at once
Just by hearing the sweet sound
Of the voice that enraptures me
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 3:00 PM UTC
It is astonishing
how so much can be said
in so few words.
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 8:41 AM UTC
As the sun reflex’s an immaculate glare.
Upon the flowers and as the honey bees acquire their nectar.
The breeze of wind from the west blows east as the young tribe sets to feast.
From the belly of the beast, from the ground and to the trees,
We were once sunflower seeds.
So small and so innocent, without a care in the world to say the least.
We should look back and acquire the imagination, as children it was amazing.
Astonishing that we could be
Anything we ever dreamed and desired.
Picking fruit from that apple tree, the juices sweetened just for me
So lovely a day it was, playing games with the neighbors across the street.
The feeling of being free is a virtue, a God given right not just for me, but for thee.
Back then summer time felt like a lifetime, never having to tip the hour glass over.
Man those were the days.
But we grow up not sunflower seeds, yet sunflowers.
You see, the sun still shining but a little brighter on me.
Because my path is different, and I’m not just a ****
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 6:31 PM UTC
I am common.
seemingly feminine
but shoulders strong
as barbed-wire.
like a chicken I am
underdeveloped—my wings
weak and unable to
lift me into the air.
I am preoccupied
in self-identified war
with the 875 square foot
apartment and the pasta
that refuses to boil.
on my knees, I
crawl
reconciling rhyme
and reason for
suffering.
the world has gone awry,
I say to myself on an
afternoon bike ride
through wooded
pain, my face
a perfect plane for
scathing branches.
quick and easy blood
am I.
wretched and astonishing
is the rhetoric I
find in the hollow of
my rib.
I am common
but not so when
written by hand.
Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 4:14 PM UTC
Now I'd like to tell you of a liquid
And a beverage clearly divine
It matches the holiest spirit
And most blessed communion wine
But it's not to be found at the altar
Of the temple, the mosque or the church
You'll see it in glasses lined up on the bar
Wherever the pensioners perch
Oh Gin, Gin, fabulous Gin
Finest concoction there ever has bin
A knee to the crotch and a kick in the shin
To him that speaks ill of that heavenly Gin
I had a great aunty called Floris
Each morning she'd sternly arise
With a fire in the pit of her stomach
And a merciless scowl in her eyes
But thanks to a magical fluid
By the end she was quite the reverse
And her face was serene and so tranquil
As they bundled her into the hearse
Oh Gin, Gin, glorious Gin
Remover of troubles and varnish and skin
There's many a baby that wouldn't have bin
If not for a bottle of beautiful Gin
Edith was crippled with cramp of the back
And terrible gout of the thighs
Her walk was askew and her bottom had swelled
To a rather astonishing size
But with Gin in the morning, the noon and night
She was right as proverbial rain
She still couldn't walk but now couldn't talk
So no one could hear her complain
Oh Gin, Gin, medicinal Gin
Bracing your face with a permanent grin
Cleans up the silver but tarnishes tin
Joyous the juice of the juniper, Gin
Tis a regular modern elixir
And a kick in the liver to boot
It's companion for many a mixer
To the tonic or blending of fruit
Instilling a mighty contentment
And removing all traces of rage
Though it's mainly imbibed by ladies
Those of a particular age...
Oh Gin, Gin, magnificent Gin
Clean as a whistle and sharp as a pin
Puts hairs on the ears, the chest and chin
Of nannies and grannies all guzzling Gin
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 6:14 PM UTC