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Jim Davis Apr 2017
In the last
three decades,
after we became one,
I touched
amazingly beautiful things,
horribly ugly things,  
unbelievably wondrous things

I touched nature's majesty;
hued walls of the Grand Canyon,              
crusty bark of the
Redwoods and Sequoias,
live corals of the
Great Barrier Reef,
dreamlike sandstone of the Wave

I touched magical and strange;
platypus, koalas and
kangaroos Down Under,
underwater alkali flies and
lacustrine tufa at Mono Lake,
astral glowing worms
in the Kawiti caves

I touched holy places;
Christianity's oldest churches,
the Pope's home in the Vatican,
Hindu and Sikh temples and
Moslem mosques in India,
Anasazi's kivas of Chaco canyon,
Aboriginal rocks of Uluru and Kata Tjuta

I touched glimmers of civilization;
uncovered roads of Pompeii,
fighting arenas of Rome,
terra cotta armies of Xian,
sharp stone points of the Apache,
pottery shards from the Navajo,
petroglyphs by the Jornada Mogollon

I touched fantastical things;
winds blowing on the
steppes of Patagonia,,
playas and craters of Death Valley,  
high peaks of the Continental Divide,
blazing white sands of the  
Land of Enchantment

I touched icons of liberty
and freedom;
the defended Alamo,
a fissured Liberty Bell,
an embracing Statue of Liberty,
the harbor of Checkpoints
Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie

I touched glorious things
made by man;
the monstrous Hoover Dam,
an exquisite Eiffel tower,
a soaring St Louis Arch,
an Art deco Empire State Building,
the sublime Golden Gate Bridge

I touched sparks from history;
the running path of an
Olympic flame just off Bourbon,
the last steps of Mohandas Ghandi
at Birla House before Godse,
******'s Eagle's nest and the
grounds over Der Führerbunker

I touched walls of power;
enclosed rings of the Pentagon,
steep steps of the
Great Wall of China,
untried bastions of
Peter and Paul's fortress,
fitted boulders of Machu Picchu

I touched strong hands;
of those conquering
Rommel's and ******'s hordes,
of cold warriors of
Chosin Reservoir,  
of forgotten soldiers of Vietnam,
of terrorist killers of today

I touched memories of war;
the somber Vietnam memorial,
the glorious Iwo Jima statue,
the cold slabs at Arlington,
the buried tomb of USS Arizonians,
Volgograd's Mother Russia  

I touched ugly things;
shreds of light in
Port Arthur's prison,
horrible smelly dust
in the streets from 9/11,
ash impregnated dirt
in the pits at Auschwitz

I touched oppressed freedom;
open ****** plazas
of Tiananmen Square,
smooth pipe and concrete
of the Berlin Wall,  
tall red brick walls
of the Moscow Kremlin

I touched constrained freedom;
heavy ankle and
wrist slave chains
in the South,
little windows
in Berlin's Stasi prison,
haunted cells in Alcatraz  

I touched remnants of madness;
wire and ovens of Auschwitz,
stacked chimneys and
wooden bunks of Birkenau,        
Ravensbruck, and Dachau,
the tomb of Lenin,
toppled Stalins

I touched hands of survivors;
of Leningrad's siege,
of German POWs and
of Russian fighters
of Stalingrad's battle,
of Cancer's scourges  

I touched grand things;
deep waters of the Pacific and Atlantic,
blue hills of Appalachia,
towering peaks of the Rockies,
high falls of Yosemite Valley,
bursting geysers of Yellowstone,
crashing glaciers of Antarctica and Alaska    

I touched times of adventure;
abseiling and zipping in Costa Rica,
packing Pecos wilds and Padre isles,
flying nap of earth Hueys to Meridian,
breaking arms in JRTC's box,
fighting Abu Sayyaf, and Jemaah
Islami in Zamboanga City

I touched through you;
wet sand beaches of  Mexico and Jamaica,
mysterious energy of the monoliths of Stonehenge,
rarefied air in front of the
Louvre's Mona Lisa,
ancient wonders of Giza,
Egypt's tombs and pyramids

We shared soft touches;
drifting in Bora Bora's
surreal waters,
joining hands camel trekking the
Outback's dry sands,
strolling along Tasmania's
eucalyptus forest trails

basking in swinging hammocks
under Fiji's bright sun,
scrambling in
Las Vegas' glittering and
red rock canyons,
kissing under the
Taj Mahal's symphony of arches

We shared touching deep waters;
propelled in gondolas
through the city of canals,
Drifting atop Uru cat boats on Lake Titticaca,
Swooping in jet boats
up a wild river in Talkeetna

Racing in speed boats
around Sydney's great harbour,
skimming in pangas in Puerto Ayora,
paddling the Kennebec for
East's best petroglyphs,
cruising Salzbergwerk's underwater lake

We touched scrumptious things;
Beignets and chicory coffee at DuMonde's in the Big Easy,
Hot *** with sesame sauce
in the walled city of Xian,
Peking duck, dimsum, scorpions,
snake and starfish on Wangfujing Snack Street

We touched delicious things
Crawfish heads and tails at JuJu's shack
and ten years at Jeanette's,
Langoustine at Poinciana's, Fjöruborðinus and Galapagos,
Cream cheese and loch bagels
at Ess-a' s in the Big Apple

I touched your hand riding;
hang loose waves of Waikiki,
a big green bus in Denali's awesomeness,
clip clopping carriages of Vienna, Paris,
Prague, New Orleans, Krakow,
Quebec City, and Zakopane,
the acapella sugar train of St Kitts

We shared touching on paths;
the highway 1 of Big Sur,
the Road of the Great Ocean,
the bahn to Buda and Pest,
the path to the North of Maine,
the trail of the Hoh rainforest,
and time after time, the way home

Yet,
I could spend
the next three decades,
in simple bliss,
having need for
touching nothing,
other than you!

©  2016 Jim Davis
A poem I wrote last year for my wife!  Posted now since it matches the HP' theme for today - "Places"
island poet May 2018
“Moby ****,”  Herman Melville

<•>

~for the lost at sea~

after a year of saltwater absence and abstinence,
return to the island caught between two land forks
surrounded by river-heading flows
bound for the ocean great joining

the Atlantic welcomes the fresh water fools,
bringing with them hopefully, but hopeless gifts of obeisances,
peace-offerings endeavoring to keep their infinite souls

sea accepts them then drowns the
warm newcomers in the unaccustomed
deep cold salinity, which
sometimes erodes
sometimes preserving
their former freshwater cold originality

I’m called to depart my beach shoreline  unarmed,
no kayak, sunfish or glass bottomed boat needed,
walk on water and my toes, ten eyes to see the bottom,
no depth perception limitation,
reading the floor’s topography,
millions of minion’s stories infinite,
many Munch screaming

god’s foot, heavy upon my shoulders,
a daytime travel guide, hired for me,
not a friendly travel companion,  nope,
God a pusher showing off a drug called deep water salvation,
designated for the masses, can handle large parties

my in-camera brain  eyes,
record everything for playback -
the lost and unburied, bone crossword puzzles

walk shore to ship, on soles to souls,
is this my new-summer nature welcome back greeting?

puzzled at the awesomeness of vastness,
conclude this clarification for me of the occluded-deep,
is a stern reminder of my insignificant existence,
my requirement to walk humbly, spare my sin of vanity, and
forgive my trespasses upon the lives of others

perhaps then the infinite of my soul perchance restored,
older visions clarified and future poems
will write themselves
and sea to it my predecessors
be better remembered

Memorial Day 2018
Apollo, Apollo
The God of poetry
I'd also like to learn archery
And a song or two
On the lyre from you
XD lawl...
Sean Schaeffer Sep 2014
Words are Power
Power is Money
Money Is Pizza
Pizza Is God
So give me your words and no one gets hurt

Pizza is all that I believe in
Pizza is me
I am Pizza
And if I take you words
Then I take you power
And I get your money
And with that money I buy pizza

Pizza solves everything
Its fills the hole in my heart
And it fills the holes in my Arteries

Clearly Pizza is God
For Without it
How can we Live?

The mighty cheese Overlords
Watching us from their Oven thrones
Bathing us with the sweet smell
Of pepperoni happiness
All Hail Pizza
All Bow Down to pizza
Curtsy to Pizza
Perform Choreographed dance numbers for Pizza
Kiss the trays that they sit upon


In fact I fail to understand
Why you’re listening to this poem
And not eating Pizza
What is wrong with you?

Have you ever met a person
That hates pizza?
No!
No one hates pizza!


But if they do….
Don’t trust them
Don’t look at them
Don’t think about them
Don’t friend them on Facebook
Run away from this person
Do not trust this Pizza hater
For they do not deserve your love
Or your Pizza
For These cheesy pies of greatness
That comes in rectangular cubes of cardboard
Graciously land upon our doorsteps
And impart to us
The gift of happiness
It brings the whole family together
And makes everyday better

Pizza does not discriminate
No matter what you look like
Or what you like
Pizza will always be the same
Delicious
Pizza lives on in every country
And in every ones hearts
We should thank our pizza overlords
For the awesomeness that they have brought us

Instead of dropping bombs
We should drop pizza
End all Wars
And solve world hunger!
Instead of having Congress sit there and do nothing
Have them sit there and eat pizza
We should make Papa John our President
And have a large deep crust as a flag
Land of the brave and home of the Pepperoni
Everything would be perfect

Because
I like my pizza
Like I like my people
I don’t care what you look like
What you do
Or what you say
As long as you have
That gooey cheesy heart that makes everyone smile
I will love you forever
And I’m sure you taste delicious

………not that I'm advocating cannibalism
that would be crazy!

But….Imagine all the people tasting like pizza?

Befriending them
Getting to know them
Killing them
With a rolling pin or a frying pan
Sprinkling some cheese on them
Add some cilantro
Bake them in an oven on high at 450 degrees
Leave them in the oven for another ten minutes so they cool down
Sprinkle a little salt on top and some Tapatio
Slice them up and have them for movie night
I mean come on….
Imagine it!

Imagine how **** delicious some people would be!
I wrote this for a slam competition that i recently went to and I absolutley love reading this out loud and performing it.
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
Walking and saying
Things our wellbeing
The soul needing love possessions
Have absolutely no meaning

Playing and praying
Overstaying and Under-paying
Rising sun and Symphonic searching

" Is this the way it is?" Tis the season

But the tightness no business like
searching business
  She is combined and mixed like a song
fully lined both with keynotes somehow
we declined
The feeling that you cannot breathe
or  trust both of us
 we can  bearly **** it all in
My music playing just click my belt buckle
Will start to begin

The soul is not a crime or just a rhyme
I barely cannot breathe
I am in a chuckle, you see his
smile raising up his dimple

Ms. Thumbelina cobblestone
narrow-minded street your
in the tightrope symphonic beat

But its dark outside your ringlets
Waved him on got excitedly mesmerized
His Goblet of wine she curls up in
his body heat brilliantly dazzled
The sky to your dreams he is
reaching your
soft side skin
whats actually within
our souls

So  hooked into your ride not to slide
better grades and goals
The awesomeness symphonic hatter
Victorian divineness
Her paper cut out hearts as real
as they come
The Eastside Symphonic tip of his
Heavenly Bliss private Quarters
What becomes of the broken hearted
Heads or dimes not landing on her stone
Floor heart
The Duke of all trades of the hat he's smart

Cool running ******
Addictions to the mind so fanatic
What a good soul sometimes
He overexaggerates about
love and fate darkness drives him demonic
What are you kidding me
She doesn't rest her heart on his
soul for the burning desires of food
for thought
She keeps piling his poems like any sport
He's her everything she learns to be taught

Searching lips pricing
Red bloodshot eyes of crying onions
She is so fierce controlling
Musically like a Tiger roaring
He is like a design of graphics tattoo
The earring piecing the sweetest taboo

More soul searching
She's the snake purse
to his snake eyes fancy,
he took a ride
Upper-false teeth
The upper west side
have some prideThe dark side
became her thing
The wildflower not to stand to
bloom and bang like her band

Westside sounds came deep
his pride and joy like a parade
and wickedly dark his charade

It was  sneaking up on her backside
And the other side was just hiding
and smiling
She definitely saw the light lamp post how
the smells came stronger the darkness of desire
she was famished not to have vanished

Feeling like a *** roast love continued
She had a gift for her lover, not the
toast who would brag to boost
Two ****** British what
divine glasses at a cost
The symphonic soul
captured them like the
Dark-Knight of words
Symphonic sounds came
hearing names
soulful hummingbirds buzz-net

And there weren't any more
words there was silence
Eating shepherds pie table was set

Taking over another soul that's a lie
just like magic searching for a love
so long ago became tragic
You need more perseverance
Her true love gave her
an incredible sixth sense
of deliverance
The top seat at the concert
classical wicked taste of music
candescent erotically sonic

She had this certain quality
He was a symphonic love bounty
Her lips moved so fitting fantastically
The flower shops caught her eye
She couldn't sense what was real or a lie
The fast pace of the people all worked up.
What a soulful smell music sounds
she faintly known

To her ear wanted to hear only him shown

Besides the faintly illuminated
shapes evergreens were
heartily trimmed
She stood out bright as the ground
She was turning gray losing reality
not to be found or heard
So soulful her lips speak
she was walking with her head up
in the air fancy dancey
How those men could speak.
You could smell all the ethnic
flavors of foods
She felt the search for something
of a Saint, she was trying to
hard to be good
What a Haydn, his wife
was the mad hair driving

Miss Daisy soul of hers crazy curled
inside her book
She's the lady-like curler
How he played through her hair
Hunchback of Notre Dame who was to blame?
How his eyes wondered playing
and observing
But she was holding his stare

like a womanizer and his eyes flew
what a haunting moon
But Samatha the harp shady tree
He said, my fair lady,
He's stringing something together

What! creepypasta but sometimes her powers were weak
The symphonic love potent every other week

Some Gothic man symphonic music started
Playing Rossini Opera he could stand on his head.
She was pinned to his eyes
Pinterest such interest
she was all bloomed like a fly

By witches, flower came he passed her and he knew exactly who she was as is but wait not his?
The pleading the beg humbug far from her tunes of the ladybug

Razzamatazz all body of Jazz jitterbug
He winked she-devil
summoned him on
What a binding spell
She wiped the sweat off her face
She was beautiful with pale
porcelain skin
So alluring walking
with her parasol
This is my darkness of a read I hope you enjoy flowers even if they perk you up if they are the darkness stay alive to bloom there will always be a flower like you
Dead lover Jan 2016
Well before you know anything else about him,
I'm so happy right now, with my eyes filled upto brim,
Well yeah, it's about a special friend of mine,
Call him a friend, a daddy or a birdie, all are fine.

He's a down to Earth person, with no time to even show it!
Yet people call my birdie, insensitive!
I don't know what do they want to say,
And why as negative they want him to be portrayed.

He's not weird, just unique,
He's not being selective,just doing something for himself for the first time,
You can't call him Selfish.

He's not you, He's not me,
He's better support than us, you'll see!

He's an awesome person, with his awesomeness obscure,
That doesn't make him insecure!
He's no good around people you say,
But in reality, He's the same around all..

He's not fake, expressions he doesn't feel like he doesn't know how to make.
He's just too good the way he reacts,
'cause there's just one way he acts,
That's same,
And no adjective I know,
Could complete his name...

I call him a dad as of yet,
So that such an independent person of humanity,
I don't forget.

**Dad, Please stay
Stay my
Dad
Angel mccall Mar 2014
I am awesome you are poo
I don't care about anything I do
I always say giggity goo
I don't get good grades
So I do parades
Be AWSOME and you won't have to be poo!
Marleigh Poulson Apr 2010
Eve the dweeb and I are cool
But you is just a Fool
We are the crown jewel
You is just the crown
But do not frown
We are just in Sun Valley Town
You are a Clown
But don't frown
Eve and I are besties...
Angel R McCall Mar 2014
I am awesome you are poo
I don't care about anything you do
I always say giggity goo
i don't get good grades
so I go in a parade
be AWESOME and you won't have to be poo!!!!!!LOL
Sky May 2016
Oh, MythBusters!
I will be sad to see you go;
Your explosive awesomeness
and gut-busting science
has kept me laughing since my twelfth year

Fourteen seasons
of exploding pigs
and Adam screaming "Ouch!"
and theorizing
"Is Jamie a robot?"

Oh, MythBusters!
You will always remain in my heart
as one of my favorite shows
and I hope and pray
that the re-runs keep rolling
'till the end of my days.
One of my favorite shows, MythBusters, is ending after 14 incredible seasons
I just wanted to write an ode to the show :)
Awesomeness Feb 2015
roses are red violets blue i'm so awesome and you are to!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ;0
hope you like this poem
SassyJ Feb 2016
Mercies at  juxtapositional refinement
Abandoned constitutional confinement
Handshakes on the bridged ligaments

The sweet melodious serene dreams fleets
One after the other like peculiar inventions
The mellow scenes of frames realignments

Wonderful crafted words verses paradigm
Harmonic jazz awesomeness, decode freeness
Orchestral spontaneity drills pragmatic energy

Yet, as the gingered steams rise from the hot brew
The scented breeze of life vaticinates with a smile afar
Whispers of "no obligation, no expectations" reverbs..... on and on....on and on
If it has not been mentioned DO NOT READ AND ANALYSE THE IN BETWEEN! It is what it is ..... "PERIOD"!
Every single madness is in my soul,
and fires like t'ose of a tempestuous sea-
are but raging within me;
scratching and tearing
t'is faith of mine so badly
Behind t'ese livid; and torpid
Dull afternoon airs.
Ah, stupid reasons, please go away-
and stun thy own flimsy day
But leave every one of thy bright promise
about thee;
Oh, just here-yet eternally-
everything t'at is as superb
as t'is often-hated hysterical world.
But only th' ones with humbleness!
And before thou retreat-imbue my soul
with silky greatness once more;
As I shalt salute thy carelessness
No matter what shalt happen
But steal not my love out of me;
let him stay like t'at and sleep by me
Until our tales come and greet
Unmarred evenness
And I; dare to spread my sore heart lazily
Under yon distant umbrella
of our oblivious heavens.

I hath the volition to touch th' stars,
And perhaps dream, dream highly
all over again
Of regaining thy love,
and rolling suspiciously
about and into thy waiting arms,
under our liberated celestial blankets
of clouds and its surfaceless haze.
Which might now and then smirk at us;
But before our ignorance rigidly
retreat away; and vanish pallidly into
its own threads
of prim; but unforgivable vanity.
Ah! I shalt but forever dream again
of all yon awesomeness,
and insist on devouring th' tasteful
Ye' immortal madness of thy princedom.
I imagine thy touches-and t'ose feverish scents
of thy fingers, and lavish hands
Free of boredom, but tainted with wisdom
And being sunk deeply in thy justice
Which insofar as it hath been enabled-
been hovering deafeningly in and about me.
Ah! I shalt be th' first one, and maiden
Who maketh thy irresoluteness decisive,
and turneth thy doubtful precisions
once more submissive!
I shalt become thy torch, and lips,
and guiding star!
I shalt bear thy ******,
and be thy own earthly phantom;
Be with me shalt be thy candlelight;
which is as strong as envious daylight
and by whom I shalt remove thy fright
As far as my dreams go with th' night
And visit and fend for thee
In thy portrait
and thy invigorating dreams.
I shalt be thy surprise;
and be a companion to thy delight
As how I shalt seek
and glory in thy pleasure;
Be lost in thy pride
and feel merciful to be thy treasure
I shalt deprave thy greed of its life
and make to thy grave,
one most beloved, and conspicuous wife.
Ah, thou art too striking!
Thy stunning voice fills me with madness-
and shakes my spines from head to toe,
But kills my sorrow and burns my sadness,
cleanses up my sins and blesses me anew.
Thou befriendeth my pride;
and my atrocious passion;
thou listeneth to my heart
and rinseth tears off its horizon.

Ah! So no wonder now
My madness loses its pride-
Overriding pride, t'at at times
becomes pregnant with such arrogance
So t'at despised it is, even by divine spies
sent down to t'is earth by majestic Lord.
What a delight within me it is to see thee-
and watch another brimful
of thy laughter-ah; thou art as captivating
as a little red-cheeked boy
Who sanguinely greeted me
Down th' farms
With a flow of madly auburn hair,
and smiles as agreeable
as t'at morn's bashful sunny air.
Ah, thou, who art even more adorable
than t'is lurid poem of mine;
stained with th' red colour-as it is,
of my own madness-and a tenacious judgment
of my senses,
T'ese merry dreams of thee are but too vicious
As they make me sweet-unbearably sweet,
in th' entire course
Of yon upcoming flirtatious night;
and tease me most whenst I'm awake
with loving chills so painstakingly crafted
about my face.
O, my lover!
My equanimious, long-sought, and
Sagitarius lover!
Thy naive, but sweet-spirited soul,
is as cheerful and frank;
but troublesome and scanty still
And within one terrific; yet ubiquitous
blink of th' hungered eye
Thou shalt sweep and slay away again;
my rigid; whilst disconcerted, charms.
And so how is at heart I am dreamily-
ye' desperately dedicated to thee;
Though far I am from thee-
as how thou defiantly-from me;
And so never may we sing-or argue in unison;
To utter neither choruses; nor grouped ballads
of marriage;
Dreams are but our sole tower and maze;
And morns all over th' earth, our single haste.

And such! Such a gaze of thine
Is addictive to me like white whine
For 'tis forever my melancholy tyranny;
In my selfish world-full of picturesque indignation
And its dearest remorse
and tranquil superfluity.
Birds t'at never fly;
And lilies t'at might not die-
ah, so after all cautious,
but in every way immortal-like thee;
Snoring and aging in thy deathless foreverness;
In which there art profoundly thou and I-
And I with my repentant dead soul
Unfreed yet of its cherry-like buds
Reeking of fascinated; yet disheartened
Longings; and horrors t'at
Unrevealed love canst soullessly take
Out its mortal mouth and sunless tongue-
From which my dissatisfied spirit
ain't bound ever to jump and awake.

Ah, but after all-all t'is suffering
and disruptive madness,
My corrupted freedom all along
shalt find justice
And whole confidentiality
In thy soul;
So t'at let me feel lethargic on thy shoulder
And rest my dishevelled mind for a while.
Perhaps, thou could let me sing t'at silent song
Whilst our dear God fixes everything
t'at hath gone wrong;
and imaginations and joy
t'at have been thrown away
shalt find every single way back of theirs
Into th' secure cage of love, within our souls.
Ah, and betwixt thy indolence
Shalt I laugh again;
For th' at length victories and images
so startling,
and pictures I am thankful of;
for they were formed so adequately
by thy stupendous name.
Ah, and immortality-yes, so which
shalt always be thy name;
With such frame and glory
trapped so idly within whose frame-
Like an odd; but fruitful summer game;
Within which I shalt ever thrive,
and civilly flourish;
Just like in thy love I shalt grow and live
And to our very last breath, rejoice.
Tink Aug 2018
Watching the night sky
Amazed by the delight
Of passing meteors in our galaxy
Attracted by Earth's gravity
Falling dust as a shiny star
So near and yet so far
Fascinating young and old
To make a wish, we have been told
We complete our sheer delight
Witnessing awesomeness of a night
Star dust showering us from above
Evoking hope and wishes of love
We are dust, star dust from the galaxy
On Earth to shine as bright as we can be
Sourodeep Jun 2015
The stars though far apart in the sky
wink, talk to each other
such display of friendship above,
makes me shy.

Introduced by a friend,
brought together by destiny
at the instance we knew
we wouldn't want this to end.

Be it poor, be it witty
you crack jokes with so much variety
sharp brows, beaming eyes
you are a charming girl
with words so wise.

Up in the morning, we seven
treaded along the woods, in search of heaven
Ah ! so beautiful, in the nature's lap
trees, birds, the lake and us
reading each other like a fluent rap.

Things started making sense
knowing and telling each other
revealing our striking resemblance
despite words not being spoken,
so pleased we were, delightedly shaken.

Again at that friend's wedding,
we huddled, danced, got alive and kicking
watching you make people laugh till the end
so proud I am, to have such a gem of a friend

Awesomeness is stepping to the next year now
alas ! I have to finish this somehow
cherishing our moments in each way,
though being so far away,
my sweet friend, you truly made my day.

*wishing you a very very happy birthday
I wrote this for my friend Priya on her birthday, in the memory of all the sweet memories we had in this one year since we know each other.
Ariel Taverner Jun 2016
It's 01:42 in the morning.
If you're still up....tell me why
Ah, Immortal, canst I say no more anything about thee; though I have not to, nor I am allowed to.. For thy heart hath belonged, and shall perhaps belong only, to someone else, forever.. And upon which realisation, still-sadly I am not enabled, by any means, to procure anything; anything t'at ought to be satisfactory to thy love thirsts, and though superficial, hungers.. For I am just, within 'tis bitter reality, that despaired, lost daughter of nature; who, despite my distaste for roses, longest to be one of thine-and thine only, but who shall remainest as the last one-and thus eternal one, forever. Oh, I am cursed, I am cursed, ah-I am cursed too bitterly, my love! As shall I, dishearteningly-and gruesomely, never belongst to any other, any more! I hath been haughtily made redundant by love, and so shall I taste and drink of joy no more; for no marriage joy is not to be dazzling in my hand; and so am never I to be, having a man as more than a calm, soothing friend. Ah, and so not any other one indeed-for the rest of t'is paltry age ahead! And not even thee! But still, that abrupt sweet star is in thy eyes; and what an innocuous, irresistible delight to every pore of my lungs, and the very charms of my senses it is, to my being-yon sweet star which is equal to truth, knowledgeable causations, and delicate forgiveness. Ah, thee, for but to my eyes, thou art the long-sought forgiveness itself; and thy lips and cheeks and tongue makest everything perfect and becoming to the grace; grace-indeed, which is hasty, but mighty-like the thirst, and merriment of its salved undeniable passions. Ah, still-but why, why am I being tortured by these feelings? For I loved thee not, whenst I but streamed my gaze into thee-for the very first time; and for I felt enjoyment not-in our sweet occasional encounters, I felt no shyness, and nor perhaps, any predicaments of curiosity, as I fixed my very sight on thy evaluative eyes! Oh, for my heart but was lazy, unlike it was to thy precursors-and fate danced not at that time, in thy eyes-in those first months, with cold air and flakes of muted snow as rapid as the morning winds that inevitably appeared, after growing out of nowhere-just like a thoughtful apparition-as we sauntered about this morning, and greeted us with its superb, ye' monstrous iciness. Ah, t'is-which is so unfair, indeed! And oh; but why? Why, my sweet? And why is it just now, darling, that I am affectionately faltered, weakened, and turn feeble-at simply making out the notion of these invincible, ye' honourably-infatuated feelings? I, whose cheeks canst now threaten myself-and clumsily boil, 'fore thus turning red-at a very simple, unfearing thought of thee! Ah, unsweet, as itself shall remain ever be! But how I hate-I hate t'is feeling of loving thee-without ever being able to accomplish it. I heart it not-and thy voice, which is elegant with scrutiny, and careful examinations-of my private diligence, as we wandered and twitched and spoke more; for it invites me so, to the grandeur and wealth-of loving thee more and more, and steering myself into this all-too-burdening, though soft-passion; o, thou, who in t'is realness is, though outrageously, is based on every single effectuality of our beings, is worthy of all the forgiveness of presumptuousness, and overflowing emotions of our due spirituality. Ah, thee! Thou, who art the mere persona of my dramatic dreams; and the vitality of my poems; thou art gentler, sweeter, and tenderer than even poetry itself-as well the miracle, ingenious window, and the sole awesomeness which it willfully illustrates. O-love, and then thy soul is duly its obedient flattering mirror, which is forever unmad, sensible, and plentiful-to my questioning soul. Thou art my carved destiny-and the river that permits my blood to flood! Ah, thou art indeed so diligent, provoking, and altogether unbecoming, my sailor! O-And thee! The ever delicate fruit of my heavenly morning; whilst thy fate was-still is, and shall for eternity be treading, and about; o my darling. Thee! Whose fragrant breaths roar with such prettiness, and laughter-so handsome to my eyes, and are a rare, enticing spark of truth when all is but lies. Oh thee! My ever illuminous, equanimious, and on the very whole of thy being-a fulfillingly-delicious star; from whom shan't I be able, for ever and ever and evermore; to stay hidden, nor to stand firmly-though glisteningly, afar.
Joelle McCook Oct 2014
I'm wearing a straight jacket all over
As my fashion statement
My body got the memo early
That the world wouldn't be able to handle my movement
So it doesn't move...
Just so that the world doesn't explode from my
Awesomeness
Eyes are glued to me
Like gum to my wheelchair
Because I'm fiercer than Beyoncé

Some have the audacity to try to berate me
Thinking that I'm lesser because
I don't succumb to the filth of the floor
I won't descend to that level
My feet weren't made to stand on this world
God knew that only the best would do
This world isn't ready for my Heavenly struts
Rihanna ain't got nothing on me

I refuse to accept my situation as a prison sentence
My heavy skin isn't my prison warden
It's my accessory for my outfit
Even though I'm rolling here
I'll not only be walking,
I'll be soaring in Heaven

So you don't have to give me your discount pity
I take cash

You may call me a handicap
But I call myself a Princess
Who can only walk on golden roads.
I was just trying to think of how it would feel to be paralysed, but I didn't want to write anything depressing. I wanted to inspire someone to rise from their situation and to love life. Also to understand that God made you amazingly-beautiful, no matter your circumstances. You're fierce in God's eyes and mine.
:)
I love you all
Emeka Mokeme May 2018
Death is just the taking away
of the gross material that
enshrouds and hides
the life essence that is you,
setting you free from your
temporary cocoon that has become
your mortal prison.
In your freedom,
You will find there's no death.
Live your life fully with gladness.
Be aware of your awesomeness
and make a mark with your life.
Follow the path of righteousness.
Realise that you are nothing more
than a sojourner on earth.
Enter into each day with
joyful tenderness in your heart.
Take whatever comes to you,
either good or bad as it is
without much ado,
for they come to make up
the textures of your life.
Be strong and courageous
Remain calm in the face of adversities.
Be unshakable,
for all you encountered and achieved
is for a while and for a purpose,
to make your life a worthy one.
Do not for any reason cause anyone
to weep or go through an unnecessary harrowing experience because of you.
Live wherever life places you in harmony
with those in your sphere
knowing you are there to serve.
Be aware of what will be a source of
your future annoyance,
and with wisdom deal with it
or completely avoid it.
Remember who you are always.
Do the right things.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
jeffrey conyers Oct 2012
I see your awesomeness.
In all the things you do.
I'm impressed.
This I do confess.
To, how great you are?

My love.
God has created in you a qualities that others wishes for.
A caring heart that does more than possible.
Who upon this earth?
Could ask for anything more?
I must confess.
To,how great you are?

When I were lost and disconnected.
You were my savior.
Again, who could request for anything more?

You are great.
And deserves to be praised.
Poetic T May 2014
My fingers move, my arms in the air.
I cant play an instrument, but I am the
Best in the world with my air guitar.

Here me play with music loud, hands
Swinging in the air, I look like a mad
Man to friends, watching my fingers
Do the motions of different cords.

I'm the best at this instrument, I think
Crowds would go wild, paying to see
My awesomeness. I play with fingers
Swinging my arms slowly and fast
Playing what I do best the air guitar.
lorilynn Sep 2010
my world has many colors like the prism;
the blue hues of glistening waters of greece
against the white stucco adobes.
dancing tap shoes of flamencos
while visiting in spain.
autumn hues of russian reds, gold, cobalt, greens, oranges and black co-mingling.
asian tastes of polynesian spices in the philippines.
safaris in africa witnessing the awesomeness
of massive mammals.
sophistication from the streets of champ elysees, sipping cappuccino
and i will have some creme brulee please.
or perhaps go to italy and sit on the spanish steps
with a cup of expresso. i will take along a cannoli
and count the steps.
while back at home reminiscing over a cup of joe
with a friend in tucson arizona.
after exchanging our love for art
i will read my mail from friends afar;
the outback to talk about the love
pocketed in the kangaroo’s pouch and discover
new zealand, the unfamiliar territory.
we share our secrets who have been there.
reading beautiful poetry like never before.
all the while being reminded
i have been blessed by the HOLY ONE.
you see my friends, my world has forever changed
since i have met all of you.
getting up each day having my coffee
welcoming me to another day with my friends
from the east, west, north and south.
upon dusk we say so long, see you soon.~~by lorilynn

copyright*lorilynn 2010
Emeka Mokeme Aug 2018
I come before you Yehoshua
with my hands lifted up in holiness.
All I ever have is my faith in you.
You know my heart,
and my emptiness you know.
You understand my feelings,
and my follies you forgive.
I am renewed and recreated daily,
transmogrified into a new creation
like I've never existed before
because of you Yehoshua.
My weakness are before you,
my past you erased and forget.
I am nothing without you because
you are my strength Yehoshua.
Your presence is comforting
and reassuring for you are
my glory and my salvation.
All power belongs to you.
Everything fails when you
are not with me.
You are the breathe within breathe
for your Spirit dwells in me.
There's no joy within without
your presence.
Your touch restores all things,
and cause everything to heal.
We cannot fully worship you
when health fails,
restore our brokenness Yehoshua.
Your supremacy confounds the heart
of man for no one can challenge you.
You reign as King in the castle of
my heart where you dwell in Majesty.
The glorious beauty of your existence
transcend and pervades all things.
You transmute the gross material
from nothing into gold.
Every created things ever made
resonates to you.
All creatures above the earth,
in the earth and,
beneath the earth adores you
and sing of your glory.
Your awesomeness is a wonderful wonder.
Thank you for everything that you do.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Keerthi Kishor Feb 2018
I knew that our time together in this world was limited. I knew that sooner or later one of us had to say goodbye to each other. And yet your death took me by surprise, shocked me to the core and the truth is that I don't think I will be able to recover from this. Ever.
This was the first time ever, I understood what death really was, how painful it felt and that how different it is when the person you loved is no more on Earth. It took me all these days and an immense amount of courage to even think about writing this. But I had to do this, for my own sake.

I still remember the day I met you. You were this chubby little fur ball of awesomeness that lit up every room you enter with your innocent eyes and cutest mannerisms. We bonded quickly and you were an integral part of all the crazy stupid games that my sister and I used to play, back in the old days. I remember how you used to get jealous when we ignored you, but of course, we did that on purpose so as to hear you whine impatiently while doing all kinds of silly acts just to get our attention.

I don’t just remember you for all the fun we had. I remember you even for those bad days of my life. I remember hugging you and sitting next to you silently when everything was breaking apart. I remember crying next to you when there were days I just felt like giving up. I remember talking to you endlessly about how I wish our lives were simpler again. But of course, you never uttered a word. All you did was lean onto me, while slowly resting your head on my shoulder for me to stroke your head gently, soothing us both down.

I remember how I didn’t turn my back on you to say goodbye the day I left our home. I heard you screaming and crying at the top of your voice as if you were begging me to stay as you saw me walk away.  Nobody knows this, but one of the reasons I made silly excuses and kept coming back home was just to see you. There were countless times I peeked over the front gate, just to catch a glimpse of you every time I walked past our home. And sometimes all I could do was just hear your sound but that was more than enough for me simply because knowing you were okay made me feel okay.

A day never passed by where I haven’t thought of you. The five years we spent apart has given me endless opportunities to talk to every random person about you. And for the brief time I was home again, I really thought that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. But unfortunately, that didn’t quite work out. It killed me that I had to say goodbye to you again. I remember kissing your forehead before leaving home for the last time and you screaming and calling me back as I exited.

I just want to let you know how much you mean to me. For you weren’t just my baby, my best friend, my brother, my son, my playmate. You were and will always be my most precious childhood memory. Now that you are gone, I will try and hold your memory close. I miss you with every breath I take. I miss you, Jimmy. Every day, I get on social media, I see endless posts and videos about other dogs and it kills me inside. It kills me because you were the best dog ever. You were such a good boy and your existence has kept me happy since the day I met you. I couldn’t tell you that but I want you to know that.

I hope you have made new friends in heaven. Even if you haven’t it’s okay. I’ll join you there one day and together, we will make countless new memories each day.
Losing a best friend is like losing a part of you. A part of you that you never realized as something beyond of values, until it’s no more.
I had to write this for my own good. Hopefully, this will set me free.
To Jimmy,
05.07.2007 - 25.07.2017 but forever in my heart.
The day shook itself, sniffed the air and sprinkled sunlight on my face
I woke,washed,said grace and breakfasted on hand caught trout, which had rested in my summer house down by the lake.

I took a moment to spread my eyes and fell upon this freshly fried and salted feast I had made from scratch,as indeed I had made the thatch which kept the house cool in the middle of the noon.

Very soon, my roving mind opened up to find a trial to test and undertake,would I bake some bread for the later evening meal?
In my zeal I did not see the winter creeping up on me,before I passed two more full noons the moon had shed its happy mood and food was in a short supply.
I used to cry at this awesomeness that left me in an awful mess,
but I learnt to do and mend and tend what needed tending to and now the summer's through,my larders full of food enough to see me through the roughest stuff,that the season which is about,will throw at me.

I see an end,a beginning too,the stories we are told run through the central core,
we want ,then we must do much more
we need, and what is needing for? but to fill our fears with sand and stand alone with bellies full of stone,solid,stolid
in the thick of things that seasons change to bring we fend off everything that hurts the soul,
and in the maypole time when spring is feeling kind of fine and the larders bare,
Mother nature's there to fill it up again.
A bit more planning a bit less pain
less to lose and more to gain
the same each year as it has been
for ever.
It was a day. I got crowned and became her man. Love was so pink it made the ink of my pen run. The sheets were stained and we were blind. Blind in love. Giggles, smiles, blushing and connection. We had the whole world in our hands... And then the glance opened a chance for the entrance of that man who has the material romance. A glance inspired by the sparkling material things.

Oh how easy she smiles when he takes her for a ride. Oh how wide her thighs open when that paper is rolling. This rich image a prerequisite for controlling... And you're in the shade watching it all happen. She gets picked up and taken places you can only be an employee in. Never will you feel like a boy in a league of men. Men who are making it happen. Men who need not nag or trail for a simple "yes".

There's a truth you don't see and that is she is not yours truly. Oh you were programmed growing up that the woman you love will belong to you. Oh you were lied to by your role models growing up that there is a formulae to prevent a woman from cheating. Except they had huge ego's and that's where they lived. So you're in a state of utter shock and awe... How could she? How could he?

There is a deeper truth to face and it's not what you did or didn't do, It has always been what you can offer, how far you can take her. It's all about her, don't you get it. Her ego, her security. Her heart, her excessive needs. And all you were doing was filling the gaps in the reservoir. Turns out many were contributing to the self of she.

Love you said you felt, was it love for love's sake or love for her curves, pretty face and pleasure-cake. Love you said you felt, was it truly love or the image she created which gave you street credit. Was it the love for the security of your ego, making you look good. Or was it for the goodness of love.

It is a sad affair, and the lessons are in the tears shed. The sadness spreads in the abyss of her loneliness, convinced the price of gold will define her glamour some day...
It is a sad affair, when you thought you were the best it could ever get for her. That you were  her forever and she your Eve to even the flops and failures of the past.

Souls scrambling for their best form, trying to pair... Although in these relations souls constantly compare...
Who said she'd be your lover alone and that she cannot be shared?
Was it the norms defined by society, well search for more definitions to expand your vocabulary
Who said that she belonged to you?
And who said relationships were perfect? And aren't you irresponsible for not searching who the founders of the manufacturing of relationships are?

Watch and imagine as the one you love sings ******* to the one you despise
Watch as the fake image of awesomeness meets its demise
See that all the sleeping around is a result of absent fathers
Conceive that the game is in women's hands and that it's the twist of evolution
Surrender to your weaknesses and find strength in them
Believe in love and endure the pains and burns, for one day if you loved truly it will all come back to you certainly.


By: Nhlanhla Moment
The things material are merely metaphors for the things Ethereal...
Nat Lipstadt Jul 2023
The Show


I awake circa two AM to observe an Earth under siege.
Fearsome blasts of lighting lightening unceasing,
illuminate a sky that is divided into two; a grey white
boundary-less blob of cloud, bolt pricked in a steady
but random pattern for at the least the hour since I was
awakened and a blackened horizon lining defining the land of men.

I debate my choice of word; at some point I slip from the bed to
relieve myself for such is the age of burden I currently occupy;
but my fingers disobey wanting to write relive myself,
to assure myself, that I am, will be, a surviving witness to an awesome and terrifying spectacle, noting the appropriate dueling nature of “awesomeness” for it brings a joyous awe and a paralyzing fear with equal measure, but without any trace of forcible distributive equity.

The lightening is fulsome; sometimes well hid above in a
single whiteness that is the very definition of singularity,
without cue, but within, Z shape bolts of comic book proportionality.

Here’s the rub! All this demonstration is done in a complete,
comforter (!) of silence. The house periodically rumbles its
machinery, whether in fear, or because it must mechanically
do so in the same manner we breathe, or simply to alert me
that I frail human, am at the mercy of the skymaster above,
and the manmade array of pipes, compressors, big apparatuses pinstalled in the earth below to serve until they don’t, and then
we must service them.

The silence is amazing for it is total and domineering and absent thunder. The Show occurs in the largest venue available, the Bay,
but the well behaved audience makes no sound, not a whit,
no coughing, sneezing puncturing or punctuating (reader’s choice) the eerie quiet of a speechless world that cannot speak, as if its larynx was removed, but it’s eye were restored to the age of 20/20.

Well over an hour, closer to two, the demonstration is concluded
and we return to the supine, neutrally, even emotionless, for the gamut and gauntlet we have survived dry and in safety has
concluded and the thick picture window did its job admirably.

Wait Now, a pockmark of bursts in the absence of all light, the now blackness has replaced everything, except for a momentary pinprick of of cloud framed orange hue, a shell exploding far across the bay.

S. sleeps relatively unperturbed, until she does not; for a long minute she rattles the ship, kicking tantrum violently both legs, until the covers are disarrayed, only to fall back into a deep blue colored stage of sleep, and pulling the covers onto the custom fitted aperture neath the chin.

This secondary, receding lightening demonstration that has been taking place; as if a heavenly Lincoln~Stephens oratorical battle occurs over the nearby Atlantic of  nonstop proportion, leaving my my mind to dwell on this topic:

Resolved: This man, that pens this missive about sky missiles is a good writer, or even reasonably ok.

I am representing both sides (duh). and skip to the judges decision without further ado, for brevity is a skill I am profoundly lacking and appreciate, and the eloquence of the debaters is acutely not bad, as prideful acumen is the standard.

Sorry. Split decision, 3 -2, he is merely an ok writer.

Now past 4 AM, glance outside but once more, and there a slow slewing of dawn light emerging like springtime buds, the trees on the lawn are faintly distinguishable, outlined against a normalized, post-storm night sky full of debris EXCEPT in the not-faraway-enough-distance, a few straggler lighting bolts are yet appearing to remind me the night is indeed always awesome and full of terror, just like a good poem.

4:22 AM Jul 5 2023
I sit up there in the thin air where my focus is extended by eyes that feed on loneliness and lips that taste the awesomeness of pipe dreams in the sky,
A vision opens up to me, unreal, a trip out LSD, but no this is reality and here
in thin air flying free, the eagles seem to float as if on skis across a frozen sea.
I have abandoned all for self sufficiency, I want the eagle to be me and me to be the eagle, up here in the thin air where I grab at straws.

Two thousand floors down on the elevator to desperation in the nation of investigators they look for me, Up is not on their agenda or they'd send a scouting party to hunt me down.

In some era long before when I tore envelopes to lick my life and stuck them to the notice boards and no one cared, I cared more for stray dogs on the street than any one of ten or so of beggars that I met or those who came to meet the dawn with pleading looks, was it yesterday when my name, written in the book that details all? I began the fall that rose me to this place where I now sit, invisible but I am seen by clean air to be particle, to be this place without the trappings of a soiled humanity, I want to ski like eagles 'cross the frozen sea and for those who doubt me this was never LSD, this was the walking in and through a life that no one ever knew and a shout or two along the way,
In the thin air, I learn to grin, to remember what it feels like when you let the future in, some time ago I knelt to pray and being nearer to tomorrow than today. I'm sure that if someone watches over me, they'll set the skis, fire up the frozen seas and let me go.

I become my own General and watch over my army, but here in the thin air there is no one to harm me,
the eagles look on quizzically
floating by on skis.
Arlene Bozich Jul 2012
Every morning I see the sun rise.
Opulent, magnificent,
Color splashing on the renewed Earth,
Opalescent wonder reminding onlookers
That color is only a feast for the eyes.
Mountains of clouds break against the ocean ceiling,
Asking the onlookers to dive deeper into the
Depths of the endless, glorious sky.
A master painter could not compare in excellence
Opposed to this ephemeral masterpiece.
Such detail in grandeur,
Holy awesomeness in finesse,
No mark absently fashioned
No stroke of paint unadorned.
Yet beneath this wonder
My heart longs for a sunset with no sunrise.
Let me play my part in the morning’s scene
Rather than sit as the passive onlooker
Never to create such beauty.
A woman with a past, she’s forever making peace with it
Its pages written when the years were raging and wild
mellowed by time, they nurse pain in brittle folds
when I try to turn them, she breaks into tales untold.

Her heart is stone cold and yet she knows of love
How? she doesn’t know. How? I can’t begin to tell
She gives her all to me and retreats behind the stage,
when I press rewind, she slips into the act to cover-up her ache.

She tells me she wasn’t looking, and in her made-up now
she built a life whole and knit a yarn of awesomeness
I broke the many mirrors that mirrored her insta smile
She cowered and hugged me to escape her own guile

You don’t know my past, she tells with mock belief
I remind her we are both travellers having come this far
Our journeys writ on milestones dotting many a stay
We’re interesting stories we picked and lived on the way

She doubts the past won’t measure up to my idea of love
The night, I tell her, doesn’t care what you did with mornings
It just wants you to lose yourself, moor you to its dock
make it whole again, and stop looking at the clock.
Is past a curse or a collection of experiences? It’s like a chasm full of pebbles, each pebble a story, telling of a journey unique and interesting.
Impulzez Aug 2013
I sat to write to better your countenance
to uplift your spirit for you were moody
However I found myself professing my impulses
confessing my feelings
Your flame is for the lucky bulky ones
yet I'm blessed with your burning fire
To feel your well tanned beautiful,
so soft looking skin in silky slide would be volcanic
Your lips are for purple satin love
that only flows from royal *******
Your tan is as Angels in the Sun
Even Angels woo you
Your hidden priceless treasure deep beneath
rouses upon the blouse undone by macho and sapphic
innate peculiarities, best known over a length of time
Your awesomeness leaves many a dummies
pondering on your wonders of nature that glows
beyond this world
Your sexiness sweetens the aura around you
creating the hot halo feeling that envelopes you
Your attraction is spell bound
i couldn't help but be addicted to you
Words from your lips hypnotize my feet and thinking
giving me a better feeling
just like seeing an Angel in the Sun that you are.
GogoyMaster Jan 2015
Escape into a world of your own
An adventure to another dimension
Where might and courage must be shown
To be part of a group or a legion

Battling countless monsters and demons
To rescuing maidens in dungeons
Or going on quests
To a land of gold in chests

And after all this is done
And all fun seems to be gone
I log off back to real world
Where more awesomeness are behold
Anderson M Jul 2018
Does beauty transcend human subjectivity?
And what qualifies as pretty?

Timeless questions cast in stone
On the answers curtains drawn.

Hither and thither sprawled splendor
Inviting mind’s eye to wander.
Would you care to let your eyes wander
on the things that inspire wonder.
three 10w pieces
Sean Kassab Aug 2012
Instructions for Life-Lesson 1

How to be Awesome daily.

Step 1: Wake up each morning and say “I’m Awesome!”
Step 2: Go to closest mirror and visually confirm Awesomeness. (It’s there-trust me)
Step 3: Continue on with the rest of your day…being totally Awesome!

If followed regularly, these simple steps can change the one thing that differentiates the Awesome from the Non-Awesome, and that is belief in self.

Now get out there and have an Awesome day!

— The End —