"awing" poems
I live in the birth of Nintendo vs Sony vs Sega
Trying to beat that high score in the Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat
Combat with a K
That innovative ****
I survived the destruction of Sega Dreamcast
As they became third party
And Microsoft took their place with Xbox and Ninja Gaiden
Alive from that old arcade
I live in the awing of the interactive Wii
And internet friendly Playstation 3
I also live in the original Mario Bros and Pac Man and...
Terminator vs. Robo-Cop
Yea
I bet you don't remember that one
Or Galaga or Excitebike
Or even that good old
Asteroid, space dodging, alien blasting
Spacce Invaders!
Yea, I'm from Nintendoland
No... Segaworld
Nah... Sony City
Nu uhn... Microsoft...
Can't even think of a place for that
I am from that video gamer nation
That fight, hack, slash, race, create, explore, role-play
Even play those insane sports
See I'm from that...
See, I am from that...
I am from that
Video gamer heaven descended
That has that powerful curiosity and love for that
Space Invaders!
No
That love for all video games
And that memory of the ****** game graveyard
Where E.T. now resides...
See, I'm part of the new gen
Trying to play Street Fighter 4, Final Fantasy XIII, Star Ocean
Saying "I go harder than you young bloods cause I played
Space Invaders!"
So, what era am I from?
I'm from the era of all gamers
Playing Space Invaders
Space Invaders!
I'm from the
"Game of the Year goes to..."
Mario, Tekken, Metal Slug
Namco, Sega, Bandai, Konami
All those companies that started as something else
But realized their calling was for our nation
Cause you see
I'm from that
Old school Nintendo
New School Wii
Old school Playstation
New school PS3
Old school Sega
New school Microsoft 360
I'm from a legacy that always succeeds in giving us dreams
That always seem to revert back to that
Old school
Asteroid, space dodging, alien blasting
Space Invaders!!!!!
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
Often times I’m staring
Awing in the curves of full blooming lips
Carved jawbone covered with deepening dark moss
The journey through the damp forest after warm rain
It is all awake alive and breathing clearly
Rising and falling like the rare drops from deciduous leaves
I cannot tell you how inhuman you feel to me
Your skin darkens around your eyes from nights up
Long evenings too many and whiskey that never even made it to a cup
Sometimes I cannot break a gaze from the casement around your pupil
The pools of honey drip further toward me
My feet find it impossible to remove themselves
So much like quicksand but sweet calming and warm
Smooth and simplistic in youth the way skin drapes
Hangs over structured bones in the most phenomenal way
Just as your eyes are lavished in graham brown
You stay glowing even in the cold weather from blessed ancestry
Down to tender arteries and muscle where I’ve placed lips a thousand times
Shoulders swoop outwards like broad boulders
Distinguishable markers play connect the dots toward inked surfaced skin
Permanence of scarred lines forming a hot air balloon and anchor pulling it down
It’s from your favorite band, I’m noticing synapses collide on the concept
Elongated extended vines lead to tools that hold and create masterpieces
Strong slender hands with fingertips that press and pluck strings
Coat themselves with paint on late evening or early mornings
Tread lightly on my skin and illuminate my face with a coaxing touch
You are the rain forest from sunrise
My heart thumps to the sense of danger behind a corner
But I know such things and if they were to **** me,
I would be treasured in becoming a tall Kapok
With roots buried miles deep
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
*Un, dos, tres,
un pasito 'palante, Maria!*
Were the words
that ignited
her flare,
seducing every man
in the room
with her dessert-like
tone skin,
cherry colored dress,
and her Latin moves
awing every soul.
She embodied
seduction,
she embodied
Salsa music.
She was Salsa music.
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
A cider and a minder
Passing time as a reminder
Pink glow and songs flow
A waxy time erodes the mow
Renegades and perspiration responds
Swimming in winded seas of Jordan
Heated in space, evicted in their pace
Libido fails as the liquor dilutes in taste
Catch an esse as the moonlight smite
Hold another to fake a romantic right
Filter to the cards of ace as the one winks
Emotive intruders farm in fields of pastures
Imbued with alcoholic waterfalls
Molehills of termites condense lose soil
A lack of connection a taunt that apes
Future anthems triumph in hungered strums
Amused by the music erupting volcanoes
A morrow blows as the candle slows
To tow the tall grassed disused straw
A spring to summer that promises sun rays
A resolve to moderation to preserve modesty
A kiss stored forever peeping the awing stars
To guard a heart and hatch uniformity
Trembles justly forgotten in termed premises
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
Bathed in sunshine,
thy tint,
so polychrome, so fragile,
rode on the wind.
No perpetual apex,
only the awing moment.
Holding just a slender assurance,
you explore the ends of heavens;
yet only a trace of lingering,
exceeds the lifetime liberties.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 3:08 PM UTC
"Ezekiel saw de wheel; way up in de air
And de littl' wheel run by faith, oh yes, an' de big wheel run by de grace of God
'Tis a wheel in de wheel in de middle of de wheel way Lawd in de middle."
Choir songs are fun and catchy and I have to sing them every God **** day.
They are all written by some funny looking black guy named James in the earl 1900's.
"John said the city was just four square, walk in Jerusalem just like John
and he declared he'd meet me there, walk in Jerusalem just like John,
Oh John oh John what do you say, walk in Jerusalem just like John."
Most of them are about God and faith but sometimes you actually feel them.
It's weird, they make you feel spiritual. A whole class full of students singing can do that to you.
"All this night shrill Shaunteclear, days proclaiming trumpeter,
claps his wings and loudly cries, "Mortals! Mortals! Wake and rise!
See the wonder days are under, and through his will good be done!""
Sometimes you don't even know what they're about, no kidding, but they still feel nice to sing.
The ringing of the Sopranos and the roar of the Baritones is awing, it really is.
"And the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells,
how the twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle,
in the crystal lime-de light."
It's cool when you sing poetry, like Poe or something like that. It doesn't give you the same
feeling but it's still cool, if you can get into that kind of stuff.
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 1:08 AM UTC
on the cover the same ones appear
we've witnessed them showing out
they've done so for over a long year
repeatedly their monikers are about
parading an ability so **** grand
we've witnessed them showing out
remarkable they of well scripted hand
ever shining the infinite bright light
parading an ability so **** grand
we marvel at their dominant flight
they've always had a star's billing
ever shining the infinite bright light
again to-day their fab quills spilling
of a class which holds such veneration
they've always had a star's billing
watching them is an awing inspiration
of a class which holds such veneration
on the cover the same ones appear
they've done so for over a long year
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 11:24 PM UTC
Tyger, Tyger,
burning bright
Like a lantern in the night
Who prowls slowly in the dark
Leaving not a single mark
He growls gently in the deep
Sighs to entertain some sleep
Shape and silhouette undefined
But are doubtless in my mind
To belong to that one creature
With strip-ed face and whiskered feature
Eyes that pulse and glow untold
Simmering with melted gold
As they stare and scrutinize
From mighty haunches he does rise
His massive paws and gleaming teeth
His dark lips will soon unsheathe
Like gleaming daggers polished white
Smiling bold in deep delight
Of finding company this late hour
Some small snack soon to devour
His body tense with animation,
Tail flickering with agitation
A coiled trap that’s set to spring
With a jolt and sudden fling
He jumps and runs past in a slur
Former countenance in a blur
Sprinting round with crazed emotion
Faster he spins in frenzied motion
‘Till the Tyger seems to vanish
As if some unseen force did banish
And all that remains is golden honey
Smooth and sweet, the color sunny
I gasp at this mysterious change
A curious sight, awing and strange
I ponder, profound in meditation
Wondering of next morning’s salutation
If this is all that it will take…
To drizzle on my next pancake
02/08/11
Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 4:58 PM UTC
I'm a curdled mess
a puddle of expired something
waiting to be cleaned up
it's funny when you look out the window of this bookstore
you can't help but wish
that the clouds could wrap around your finger
in the same way they tie mountain tops together
over the vast arctic sea
cause after a while of gawking and awing
you just end up staring at your own reflection
Sep 28, 2010
Sep 28, 2010 at 12:28 PM UTC
dark bags reside,
under my forest green eyes.
the thunder is silent,
almost like a mute lion attempting to roar.
the shame is nonexistent,
and the beauty is awing.
-l.c.g.
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 2:45 AM UTC
Dashing, charming,
full of foolery,
She unwinds with legs of poison
sitting still on top the table,
seeping deep into my mind.
The image stains the flesh
and how I wish I could undress
the bottle of her sickly cyanide.
But taste testing pills and potions
made to drowse and **** the roses
are not nearly as sweet as implied.
So I admire from afar
oohing and awing at the bar
staring at the glass
and not taking a bite.
May 30, 2024
May 30, 2024 at 7:04 PM UTC
driving through
the vast lane
passing buildings so tall
they beat the skies
and corrupt the night space
mind wandering
through the empty streets
seeing streetlights and neon signs
tricking humans
into awing them
instead of the stars
also manipulated
by the wind
and midnight dreams
caressing each mankind
lulling into a good night fantasy
to abandon the complexities
of the relentless reality
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 7:25 AM UTC
When weariness has struck me,
I look upon the old,
I see them fail, day after day,
and Fade.....
Oblivion's sire, is it not your name?
For if oblivion is past all Light,
Then into darkness we will fade,
to see the dark void's night...
I walk in forests with weeping eyes,
and shadow holds in my fears...
That the light of Trees will diminish;
An Awing lovestruck finish...
And as I look upon the trees,
I see star and moon shine bright,
and I, wandering my slumber,
See them fail tonight...
For all things on Earth,
even Earth, Water, and Sky
cannot resist the looming power
to surely fade; And Die.....
Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 2:07 PM UTC
The Night Watcher pleads
“Oh, say, say, say”
He slips each rotting corpse beneath gray epitaphs bread and water
prisoners of six feet, dirt, wood, fate
"Please speak, please say"
Mumbling under a thick dark blanketing the moon
The Night Watcher floats between stones
awing statues adorned with shiny gifts and flowery colors
trinkets of the worthy
kneels longer at dusty crosses
gives them spare bread
"Ha! Say, do say!" He laughs
pursuing conversation with the silent sleepers
No answer comes through the soil
applause of dead men silenced
crossed arms stiff in cramped coffins
The Night Watcher lays among strangers
counts the lone stars
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 8:44 PM UTC
"Kids sure are growing larger these days!"
"Drug abuse is hardly seen!"
*"My eyes view only opaque haze...
from the awing abundance of trees!"*
"Not a soul took their life this year!"
"And not one harassed for being queer!"
*"Bullying?
What is this word you say?"*
*"My son is not known for
deceiving tricks,
or time spent in various prisons!"*
*"My daughter is not known
by her shade of lipstick,
in fact, when she speaks
everyone listens!"*
"Not one reason to lock your door!"
*"Avarice defamed, people are content with less,
rejoicing graciously for!"*
*"Did you hear of the major contribution
Of food for the poor?"*
"I took a moment to watch water drops glisten"
*"Predisposed judgements?
Don't make me laugh."*
*"Ink on the skin is an expression,
and a craft!"*
*"Those holes in their skin?
That just means they seek more!"*
*"It never occurred to me
To speak not the truth!"*
*"My government provides safety
without being uncouth"*
*"In fact, the president's never aloof
He's stern in his convictions!"*
*"Our troops have returned
from what they're calling
'the unnecessary war!'"*
*"BP oil are hanging their heads
to the floor!"*
*"And all marine life scrambling to shore,
don't worry, with this sanctuary, we be hoof"*
These things were heard on opposite day
And unless thoughts stray
They'll remain this way.
Don't let it waste, or let it fray
Because it matters right here, right now
Today
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
For a week a man laid stiffen,
Was alive for his funeral in his coffin,
He admired the awing voices of the local choir,
For a second forgot why it was grimier,
He disapproved the chosen reverend,
For his summons would go on on end,
He couldn’t get over the irony so strong,
So many heartbeats for a summary a page long,
For a moment he wished he was dead,
For his mother retold childhood stories, turning his face red,
His love for his wife was renewed,
For on her face she had his buttocks tattooed,
He let out a silent one when his friend spoke,
Gas so deadly he could of choke,
He was irritated by his mother-in-law,
Lying that she loved him when he was her daughter’s biggest “flaw”,
His son had his heart overwhelmed,
Saying all the words in his pronunciation realm.
With his joy overflowing,
And the guilty for the tears growing,
The wise man bursted from his hiding place,
Embracing everyone, ignoring their confused face!
You might call the wise man mad,
While we are alive we insult, we make people sad,
But when they die, we utter praises, but they can no longer be glad.
Dec 9, 2021
Dec 9, 2021 at 7:54 PM UTC
A solution is an answer is a new start is plan for action
My mind is a tangled mess is a upheaval of confusion is a plane of destruction
Your words are kind are intentions of rescue are helpful injections
My words are cold are harsh are screams of imperfect reflection
I am stained am bleached am covered in a negativity wave
I am fallen am failing am flailing
This day is everlasting is demanding is a revelation of my creation
My acts are grim are stern are unrelenting
Your forgiveness is comforting is awing is, undeserving.
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 7:37 PM UTC
You saw me once
Interested in my appearance.
I was alone and scared
For no one had ever
Approached me with such inquiry.
As you reached out, you had asked,
"Who are you?"
I began to tell you my story,
The tales that no one ever knew.
I was a drama magnet, filled with pain
I weeped and I cried. I fought and I pained.
I gave you all that I was, hoping for you to complete me.
Instead, you had tuned out, never heard me scream.
As you turned away in disgust
I caught sight of you, awing at a better story than I.
I weeped again, and added more to my pages.
I had hoped you were the one,
To show me what it meant to be treasured,
To be called yours.
But yet again, I wait
For that one person
To judge not and pick me above all others
Despite all my pain and hurt,
And change my ending
For I was a book titled "Broken".
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 11:59 PM UTC
We are seas apart it seems
even sitting across each other.
We sail into rooms the same
hoping the Sun is risen.
Blinding as ever,
so this endeavor is not in vain.
So when we lock gazes there is no escape.
The pull is just as awing as the star
strong enough to pull these rafts
and drown us in these seas together.
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
the poet in me is lost
it left my body while i slept, while i wept
and the shades of life have since grown duller
colors reach out to touch me
they say see me, see me
i once filled your endless cup of a spirit
with something,
an awing otherness
but all i see is the pit from whence it ascended
it's just black, black and black
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC
It’s still 2am!
2 AM stuck in the same zone again
I’m in a room full of louding echos
Thoughts I simply can’t let go
I’m quite sure the world is upside down
And some people’s smiles are starting to frown.
As I lay awaking with an open head,
I’m letting moments spill over the bed
Flooding the floor.
As more memories pore
And I am alone no more.
Time pulls me back and I sink
Tumbling off realities brink.
When times rewinds it’s awing sight
One is quietly assuring, “It will be alright,
we’ll be alright.”
Wow it’s 2 am.
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC
Beautiful this morning is.
Maybe another word for serene!
The sun is lambent.
Embraced by those cotton *****
This irregular arrangement makes it prettier.
Just like life.
Here I birdwatch
I realize how awing they are.
They are the morning alarms.
Where this perennial twittering wakes up the world;
Commands to do something new
Something different;
This new morning compels you to endure a hope!
A hope to to reach those heights where the sun always shines
How beautiful this morning is! :)
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 8:32 AM UTC
Dear God,
I wanted to tell you that we're grateful.
All the things you do that we may not even see.
We go through our daily lives paying no attention,
But you are there nudging us forward.
Like a supporting father pushing us to our goals.
You are like a warm blanket letting us move on
As we bathe in the beams of your sun.
Your creation.
A man wins the lottery,
He is overjoyed by the money.
A loved one near the edge of death,
Someone thanks the technology behind it.
We can't seem to decipher what really brings us these things.
And maybe it's because we can't be exactly sure.
But if you are to call yourself a Christian.
A believer in our savior and a worshiper,
Why do you not praise these parts of life?
Or life itself?
I wonder about you in everyday miracles,
Little things that make a whole day better.
And most may not pay you mind when you do,
But they would if they had the time.
I just wanted to say thank you,
But then I think again,
Maybe something else gives us these miracles,
But I still go on calling you friend.
I wonder.
I wonder why you gave us what you did,
And why we still have it after we abused its power.
We're pawns of the world awing in your greatness,
And without our king, all hope is lost.
God.
King.
Savior.
I wonder who you really are.
For if you're nothing but an imaginary figure,
What have we been praising?
And why do we convince ourselves of your existence?
Father.
Lord.
Creator.
Thank you for allowing us to be what we have become,
And comforting us in times of foolishness.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
Oh moon of Mars
Innermost satellite
Falling around mars in a mere eight hours
How fast that is!
How awing
In less than a day you go around
In a mere school day
You have gone around once
What an amazing thing!
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 12:17 PM UTC
birds startled awing
dashed across the glowing skies
like scattered inkblots
these things that I cannot word
I crumble another page
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:58 PM UTC