"bea" poems
.
**•...mouth
wide op-
en, glis-
tening...
in the li-
ght•aw-
aiting to
swallow
this lone
piece of parch-
ment•on it i've scribbled
all my heart could write•bea-
ring sweet nothings, sure and si-
lent•now... take this scroll•down
your neck... it'll effortlessly slide...
•to the core of your very soul•my
message would follow your gui-
de•your opening i'd then gladly
seal •so your contents would...
remain guarded • time is now
to set adrift all i feel...•....now
ride the waves through jour-
ney uncharted•let the curr-
ents take you• let the tides
and winds be your friends
• ... my quiet well wishes
would see you through •
in hopes that you would
be received by my love's
deserving... and... open**
hands•
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
9 January 2014 02.21am
"We all have feelings for our girlfriends Bea, it doesn't mean we have to act on them.."
Silence filled the room
Two opposing forces
Love lust passion
Hate anger fear
What was once owned
Has now been taken
Walking towards her
Reaching out, hand movements
So slow and graceful
An aura so compelling, senses heightened
Bodies shifting as though
Magnetic forces were playing
A sultry dance acting out
Underneath the candelabra
Eyes locked mirroring feelings
Left unspoken, razor sharp tongue
Hips graze, music intensifies
An atmosphere fraught with
Tension, favoured to be cut by a knife
Hesitating lips part with a subtle urgency
Circulatory movements dancing feet
A lowly finger fondles an inner thigh
Ever so slightly withering, exuberant pleasure
Eyes connect, glistening from the light
A smile pacifying both women
Others gazes capture their movements
For now, they are the only ones
Whose love and light fills this room
Alone, unhinged, they kiss
At first tentatively, then feverishly
Drowning, they are both saved
The lovers bodies blend into one
Possessing one another
Nothing is lost in that moment
Desperately clinging to affection
Souls freed, emotions making miracles
Two lovers effortlessly become
One soul being.
© Sia Jane
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 12:17 PM UTC
I sat down to watch the radio
There was nothing on TV
I have two hundred channels
But there was sweet F.A for me
I could have watched one channel
And learned to fricasse
A chicken raised on wild grains
By a woman chef named Bea
I started checking channels
But I decided in mid flick
That I was getting tired
And I was also feeling sick
So I sat and watched the radio
Since there was nothing on TV
I have two hundred channels
But there was sweet F.A for me
I worked on through the listings
English, French and some bad ****
There were movies on one station
That were made 'fore I was born
Out of all the things I saw on there
The best show I could see
Was something shown in black and white
Made in nineteen sixty three
My TV s high definition
With cables left and right
But to find a show I'd like to watch
Was taking half the night
So I sat and watched the radio
Watching nothing happen fast
But as I sat there watching
I travelled bckwards to my past
Still flicking through the channels
Trying to find something to see
I thought I'd found a hockey game
But it was all in Punjabi
So, I listened to the music
Watched the radio, passing time
Then I thought, why do I have this?
With what I paid, it was a crime
eleven channels showed the same
times 8 networks made
at least eighty eight tv stations
That didn't make the grade
Twenty two were pay for view
The French networks were ten
Then the networks there in Real HD
And so, it started once again
Pay for **** was fourteen strong
New shows added two
Weather, sports and info shows
Now I was at one eighty two.
I could have bought alot of stuff
On informercials through the night
I could have bought Pro Active
But instead I watched the light
I turned back to the radio
With the station light in green
It was better than the tv set
And all the crap I'd seen
So, Tonight I watched the radio
There was nothing on TV
But as I sat there bathed in that green light
The music showed me all I need to see.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 11:03 AM UTC
The colors, they won't
Bright, bea t ful c l rs
Flash ng, exp nd ng, piercing
Red, green, blue
An ndless
CACOPHONY
Of meaningless
noise
The noise, it won't STOP.
Viol nt, grating w vef rms
Sq e king, screech ng, piercing
SINE, COSINE, TANGENT
Like play ng a ch lkboard on a t rntable
Like playing a KNIFE on a BREATHING RIBCAGE
n ndl ss
p m
Of m n ngl ss
Delete Her
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 4:33 PM UTC
____I'LL NEVER FORGET "THAT-NIGHT"___ It was 8;00PM, a Thunder and Lightening storm had just begun and what seemed like thousands of BB sized HAIL WERE PELTING the roof, making it Hard to Hear the Ringing Phone ! ! I Barked OUT a "HELLO",,,the tearful, hesitant voice on the OTHER END....CRIED OUT... " Come over quickly" She pleaded and continued with "IT'S LIKE DEMONS Have CONTROL OF HER ! ! ! ,and SHE KEEPS CRYING OUT .. AUNT BEA,,, Aunt Bea... Over and over"_______ . This was going to require a SPECIAL-EXORCISM I Stated... "I'm ON MY WAY" ! Upon my Arrival , I was greeted by a trembling,sobbing LaCretia,,claiming, "HURRY to the Library Room.,Rochelle is waiting ! !" The repeating AUNT BEAS were spoken as if Gargling... "WHAT are her Symptoms " I Queried ? IN A VERY-SLOW Determined Voice, LaCretia detailed the following,,,, "She has the BLUES, She has the BLAHS, She has BLEMISHES, She has BOWEL Constriction, She has been BLASPHEMING, She has BUTTOCKS Wrinkles, She has BREAST quivers and has been having BELCHING FITS "! ! ! I THREW MYSELF ON THE FLOOR IN PRAYER...Asking for the strength to DEAL-WITH these DEMONS..._____** A N D **____Here's what CAME-OUT of ROCHELLE,,,, *(#1)=BREEZEWAY-LIPS= when encountering these rascals ,it's highly suggested that WE BE UNDER Proper Cover.. (#2)= BISTRO-BREATH-LEADER= Demons that emit SPECIAL AROMATICS into the air ,that keep screaming ,,"IT'S TIME TO EAT"....(#3)=BEHEMOTH -TESTER= Demon assigned to see how BIG OF A MONSTER he can turn you in to ....*( #4)=BRAZEN-FELLOWS= Demon who attempts to Get "YOU" TO **** INTO EVERYBODYS BUSINESS, and ruin their whole day & night...! ! ! I THEN SHOUTED OUT TO **ROCHELLE ** " ARE there any more " B " DEMONS IN there ??" Rochelle, collapsed to the floor,, I promptly RUBBED-IN the BROWN SHOE POLISH into the soles and heels of feet,,*** FOREVER-BLOCKING ***__" B " DEMONS , the ONLY-ENTRANCE to our BODIES .._______ Rochelle ,with a new found strength, lifted herself from the floor, Gingerly grasped my hand, Pulled me "VERY-CLOSE" . KISSED me with a FERVOR , THAT I CAN "TASTE" TO THIS very-day... I bid LaCretia and Rochelle "GOOD-NIGHT",, AND FOUND MYSELF "WHISTLING" and "THINKING" as I walked to my Vehicle.... "The Demons are increasing their activity ! ! I MUST "BE-PREPARED" for the NEXT-CALL_____PERHAPS FROM * Y O U * ??___
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 9:06 AM UTC
“Who’s the lucky guy?” someone asks
“Their name’s Bea,” I reply
“I support that,” they hesitate
“You are so brave.” they add
I never saw their lips as a political statement
Nor did I think holding hands in the front seat
while a friend is puking by the side of the road
Was some kind of revolution
How romantic is it
That our story will be etched
Not in some Neruda poetry book
But a professor’s first textbook
Or a college student’s 2 am essay
When I said I was in love
You thought it meant I was hungry
Not for touch or for pleasure
But for justice and freedom
I didn’t know that
When I run my fingers down her neck
It would be tied to a long Twitter thread
I never saw my love as a battleground
A metaphysical exploration of sexuality
What’s Marxist about the way their eyes
disappear when they smile?
What’s so intersectional about
Our entanglement at the back seat
Or our hands holding in front
I never thought I would be so brave
At my most fragile state
So political
In my most dumbstruck ways
So woke
When I’m asleep in her embrace
May 5, 2021
May 5, 2021 at 6:54 PM UTC
I love it when you come to stay Bea -
with your night time t-shirt
that tells me
'tomorrow is a mystery'.
My internet history reads
Achica, free p and p,
and I have a box of barely touched
salted caramel tea.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 6:35 PM UTC
Shards of sail staple sky to sea as fingernail-thin boats lean in to the horizon.
The surge of surf converses constantly with the silent shore, urging its message upon the oblivious beach.
My children scramble on the man-made groyne, a facsimile of wild rock, in which they find caves 'with a proper rock on top' (Bea) and 'a hundred miles deep' (Willem).
We are here on bikes, salt wind in our hair, and my *** slowly absorbing moisture from the almost-dry sand as they unburden their youth upon the rocky playground.
And then come the treasures.
A flat shell the size of my palm and worn pearlescent smooth.
A fossil pebble of concentric ingrained ripples.
'Something amazing Mummy,' comes the cry. 'You have to see this stone; the colour of Coca Cola,' shouts my boy.
More treasures emerge and are grafted on to the sandy pile.
Quartz-like lumps and a mussel entangled with tiny seaweed strands and miniature white shells, like micro leaves and hints of feta in a fancy restaurant.
The boy wears welly boots, no socks, and a plastic medal around his neck. 'Batman, Batman, Batman,' comes the cry, while Bea determinedly scans heaven and Earth for jewels to stud her imagination.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
chains rattle and hiss
they slide and slither around my feet
poisonous serpents i cannot escape
twisting my steps into unknown paths
foiling my legs, movements truncated
falling to my knees, they climb
screaming, incoherent rage, wordless struggles
and they whisper
whisper
whisper
WHISPER
of codes and consequences
of right and wrong
breathless i scream in silent wrath
jaw distended, creaking
they wrap up my unsaid words
force their way down my throat
chaining tight my beating heart
beating
beating
beating
bea....
Peace.
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 12:30 AM UTC
From the dust of my memories I put you together,
I am trying to glean you from the sands of time that have separated us.
There is no poetry in me, nothing hidden or secret that I can say, just that
Though we had long known each other, we now simply
Know
Of
Each
Other
And this, to me, will always be the finest tragedy,
The coup de main of time
I watch you though the layers of lies that are Facebook
Instagram
I see your words dry up and sometimes flow
A stream few others love; the sweet cadence of the
Silent rhythms I have long loved
Your tribute to the bea(s)ts inside your heart
You always reminded me of silver,
The tarnished kind,
Sitting quietly in Colaba market
Waiting to be touched, loved, occasionally dropped,
But always retaining in yourself
The sleek splendor reserved for someone
Proud in the knowledge that
When the moonlight shines on her,
She would know how to shine right back.
Beloved,
You are married now,
And no words dance between us
I have listened to you on nights
With barbequed meats simmering
Moths fluttering
And laughter tinkling
The wind caressing your stray hair as if it knew
That you belonged to it all this while.
I will burn into the back of my otherwise undisturbed skull
The pictures of you in white,
I laugh.
Seeing your delight
In a dress
We never thought you’d slip yourself into
So evasive were you,
But nothing stopped you when your mind was made,
Falling in love with a man who could listen like the ocean
From the dust of my memories, I draw you out
Through the sands of time I see you,
Living in a world where
The stars dance for your joy alone.
Someday, somewhere beyond this life,
We will meet each other in the spaces
Between two others’ lonely fingers.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 4:47 AM UTC
IV
Diodati, e te’l diro con maraviglia,
Quel ritroso io ch’amor spreggiar solea
E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridea
Gia caddi, ov’huom dabben talhor s’impiglia.
Ne treccie d’oro, ne guancia vermiglia
M’ abbaglian si, ma sotto nova idea
Pellegrina bellezza che’l cuor bea,
Portamenti alti honesti, e nelle ciglia
Quel sereno fulgor d’ amabil nero,
Parole adorne di lingua piu d’una,
E’l cantar che di mezzo l’hemispero
Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna,
E degil occhi suoi auventa si gran fuoco
Che l ‘incerar gli oreechi mi fia poco.
1.4k
Sabi mo, walang magbabago
Pero ngayon, halos hindi na kita makilala
Hindi mo lang ako basta isinabay sa iba
Ipinagpalit mo pa ako
Hanggang sa tuluyan mo na akong kinalimutan
Sabi mo, walang magbabago
Pero ngayon, ibang-iba ka na
Minsan, tinatanong ko ang sarili ko
Katulad ng pagtanong ni Liza Soberano kay Enrique Gil
“Pangit ba ako?”
“Kapalit-palit ba ako?”
“Am I not enough?”
Dati, halos walang makapaghiwalay sa ating dalawa
Ang sabi mo pa, “Ikaw lang at wala nang iba pa”
Ako mismo ang naging kaagapay mo sa pagkilala mo sa kanila
Pero bakit ako mismo ngayon ang nawalan ng halaga?
Bakit ako mismo ngayon ang hindi mo na binibigyang pansin?
Nagpaka-layo-layo ka’t ibinaon ako sa limot
Ibinaon mo ako sa kahapon
Kung saan kasama ko ang mga iba mo pang itinapon
Pero tama na
Tama na ang pagiging Liza Soberano
Hindi na kita kukulitin at magtatanong ng isang milyong bakit
Hindi rin ako magiging si Piolo Pascual
Na hihingi ng explanation at acceptable reason
At lalong hindi rin ako magiging si Bea Alonzo
Na hihilingin na “sana ako na lang ulit”
Dahil tanggap ko na
Hindi ko na hihingin pang ako lang ang piliin mo
Magpaparaya ako’t papayag na isabay mo sa iba
Isa lang ang hihilingin ko
Na sana ‘wag mo akong tuluyang kalimutan
Na sana ‘wag mo hayaang tuluyan akong mawala sa buhay mo
Dahil gaano man kahabang panahon ang lumipas
At gaano man karami ang nagbago sa pagitan nating dalawa
Ako pa rin ang tunay na laging andito para sa’yo
Ako pa rin ang Wikang Filipino na kahit nagbago man, ay nandito pa rin at nananatili para sa’yo
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
This mask, the embodiment of humanity's edge; vvhere Poe resides
&& serial killers thrive.
They are my shadovv, cast upon concrete; I am their pulse:
BEA
TING
BEA
TING
BEA
TING
Not an X-ray can find
that loose thread to be pulled,
it can't be seen!
BUT:
I just knovv it's there; like the tickle in the depth of my lung,
setting boundaries:
to be broken,
break me:
like darkness; vvhere bone decays into new life.
Marry my depravity,
merry: my curiosity,
take me as I am;
leave me as you are.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 10:29 PM UTC
.
Beaut
iful Beauti
ful Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful
Beautiful Beautiful
Beautiful Bea utiful Beautiful
Beautiful B eautiful Beau
Beautiful Beautiful
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 7:25 AM UTC
.
Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast Be
Beast Beast Bea
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast
Beast Beast Beast Beast
Beast Beast Be ast Beast Beast
Beast Beast Beast Beast
Beast Beast
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
Love Wisteria
She is like my love wisteria with all her sensuality
Her tenderness is so sweet beautiful and great
To expand my conscious and make me totally free
Her sweet presence makes me good to elate
Dedication in love makes me eternally immortal
It is my good luck that provides me with opportunity
My love your beauty makes me to glow to sparkle
This is how love kisses ,embraces beauty to make unity
My sweetheart love wisteria is full of fragrant flowers
My heartfelt ambition is going to bea true reality
Its greatness of Creator who is Merciful and showers
All kindness on me is outcome of valid love plea
Colonel Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright July 2020 Love Remains
Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 1:24 PM UTC
While snapchatting about my newest cat fail video
my Instagram bea blew up my twitter feed
I was all, *** DM much…”
But she was already facebooking selfies.
I shot her a gif and invited her to follow me
On tumblr….
The whole time lamenting
Over my dead myspace account –
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 5:51 PM UTC
Photograph of your face full of suncream
Captures the memory of that last night
Happy and smiling you tag machine
You know everything is going to be alright
The presence of your company now suddenly gone
That yellow car game, now who will win?
Your beautiful heart was here for so long
Will miss your tales about the cat and the bin!
Watched a new love for you grow inside of me
Will water this garden, I promise
Just keep your head up my little bumble Bea
And use those wings to fly from the darkness.
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 1:08 PM UTC
I couldn't seem to see your face last night
in my dream.
Only the right side.
And when I tried searching for it
all I could find was
the reflection of my mothers smile.
The one she gives to all of her party guests.
I knew
you were gone.
But for a second there, I
didn't believe God
had taken you.
Now that I'm awake
all I want to do is cry.
I know I'm supposed to be strong but
I miss you,
all the time.
Your face keeps emerging
on strangers bodies.
I
wish you would stop playing tricks
on my mind
because the reminder
hurts.
It hurts not only me
but the people I love.
I can't seem to control
what comes out of my mouth when
you're near.
I wish
I could run
to the safety of your home
and
tell you all about how horrible being nineteen
really is.
I wish you would
wake chlo and I up
in the early morning to see if
we would join you on a run,
only to be let down
by the groans of
the language of sleep.
I wish I told you that
you mean the world to me,
and
you were more of a mother
than my own will ever be.
I'm scared that I'm forgetting.
I know it's not healthy to
live in the past
but I can't help
having the urge
to make you proud
of the person I'm becoming.
The one who leaves flowers
by the accident, and
who can't seem to
forgive that man for
swerving off the road
when,
I know I should.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 8:29 AM UTC
You say I don’t appreciate,
I need to meditate,
stop,
don’t drop.
“I need you”
“You’re beautiful, Bea.”
Am I?
“Don’t leave me.”
I wouldn’t dream of it,
but I need to,
you’re killing me.
“Mother know's best.”
Do you?
“You’re just like him, a washed up *** head.”
I just need an escape.
Don’t you see?
I’m scared.
“Everything’s okay”
I know it’s not, but I will keep pretending, because that’s all you know.
“The pills will just make you more ugly.”
I am no longer beautiful.
“You only want the easy way out, to be high.”
You’re right,
I do want to be high.
High enough so your words don’t register and you kick me out of the house instead of me choosing to leave on my own.
High enough so you leave me alone.
High enough so you hug me in desperation for me to stay one more night.
High enough so I see him again in my delusions.
I think you may have scared him off with the sound of your sobs.
It’s not my fault he’s gone.
“You create the world around you.”
Remember?
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 9:06 PM UTC
imperfect
she's witty
womanly
i love
milady
your calloused fingers, a heart you're
patient chivalrous, gallant, bold, alluring
leading bloody soldier stands ambitions
critical honest and cold amazing
thinking her dreams always
smart, dauntless, aiming
my dearest with
shotguns as arms.
Responsible shoulders
my lady my honey
charming handsome
black -eyed
black -faced
bea uty
you are,
our war
rior, rugged
indest ructable
gunslinger please call her
milady.
Nov 5, 2024
Nov 5, 2024 at 5:36 AM UTC
The gentle blue violets and gentle green grow
The cobble-brick parapet in mossy-rich stone:
While over by the arches bright,
In the rhythm of a skillful show,
A rock of orange flowers ride
To sing to me a livid woe:
"The lilac, the lilac, behind thee it heaves!
Abhor it! Abhor it! A nature by trees!"
Stood there a lilac by the painted blue bea';
Of doves the white flower, bright beacon by sea:
"O lilac, a lilac, sitting by the sands,
Why do you sit alone? Why grow roots in sand?"
And lilac replied back while turning its head:
"Young poet, some poet, where I should instead?
The grass steals the sun and boards its sunbeams,
The flowers that chat like seabirds that scream,
The earthly big worms that bite and all tear
And women and men whom touch and all stare!"
Why lilac! My lilac! You've turned off thy sense!
The big ocean breath will swallow thy stems!
The iron-grain sands to throttle your leaves,
The baby-born branches, the splinters that rend
In a frenzy to put your flower debris
And rip you into the wide ocean
Sea!
Ah poet, young poet, who perceives my unseen:
The tidal, the waves do rather seem mean;
Upwell my roots and leave me the trees:
Oh poet, my poet, how different you see.
Feb 7, 2021
Feb 7, 2021 at 5:21 PM UTC
After a long day of realizing she discovered that her arms had grown into a car.
The car drove about as fast as her legs could carry it and stopped only when she slept. It cornered like a cat and burned oil like a lemon. It got her where she needed to go only as long as she realized it could. It went nowhere fast and everywhere slow before the old steam engine ran out of coal. Her brother said it was a foolish dream to still have at 16 but she just ran him over. Day after day her arms grew tired of taking the abuse of holding her up. It took quite a while until she realized could call a better one up. So she smiled at the weeds until they turned roses and grinned at the bees till they drowned in honey and let her drink up the extra with a straw. She frowned at the bullies outside her house until lightning smoothed them into splatters of ash. She thought a bit more of how doing her chores really **** ****** what? Her mother would say? She just glowered at said Daddy more then you! And knew it to be true when she saw chores come to the door long after mom had gone for "Arron's". It took her a while to get back in her car and finally see her brother still stained the windshield with grow up. He was nine. Was being the term. I think that's what he would answer but no matter how big I smile at cancer or still whisks him away whispering he's mine Bea. Maybe if I could grow my chest into roses when boys look down at them for who knows what reason I can say smell away, and take one if you please. It won't be that hard to go all bizarre when I finally realized my arms were the doors to my cars.
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC