"bespoken" poems
Time is fleeting
as the spring river runoff
that gushes out to sea
A heart trickles out
a moment,
minute by minute,
in a timeless ink drop;
unmeasurable expanse
immured in spilled ink ―
manifest in the lexicon of poetry
For only purged words
cannot quench this thirst
that is loneliness;
it's a hunger that gnaws
like an unsatisfiable ache ―
a starving emptiness
all hearts
do one day taste
Left in the sight
of doubt
and eyes that fail
to believe what they see
lain fallow in the silent
indifference
Lost in a lingering void
unburied all around,
bespoken out loud
alone in plain sight
a feigned understanding;
reticent letters shape
reluctant words
to hold forth
enunciated breathe
The only words
that still echo unstilted ―
uttered words
indelibly felt
from lips once sweet
as daybreak dew
upon musing tongue ―
tasting the only
voiceless truth
that ever broke my heart
a vanishing wave
that moved an ocean
deeply ...
Jesse Stillwater ... 06 6 2018
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
Black Key
My Body This
How could I Complain Against You
When I Have Loved You
And Ever Have
I Felt Your Flesh Upon My Waking
Offering In the Light
And I said Yes
Nothing More Be Set
The Appetites Came
Again, and Again
Fertility Invoking Rhythm
Pleasure Of the Speak
Glistening Initiation
Completion of this Beginning
Light, Your Touch
My Strings Played
Beloved
My Secret Ravi
No Mastery Greater
Have I ever Known
For this Beauty of Creation
That I Weep the Love of Singh
Your Hearts Pleasure
Seen Always as My Own
Soft Teardrop Now Risen
To the Certain Touch
Of Bespoken Marriage
Lights Caress Upon Your Forehead
Shatki
Beauty's Welcoming Horizon
Visions Mark
My Touch, Your Muse
Your Light, My Love
Our Understanding
Beauties Vision, One Life
I saw your Body Upon Mine
In the Privacy of the Light
A Single Photograph Given
Your Smile
My Eternal Life
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
Your eyes-
coal black fire
mirrors of my desire
Your mouth-
warm bath of oaths
bespoken for
Your *******
rouged red-bullet tipped
honeysuckled bliss
Those hips-my reins
move you the way
I need you most
and your kiss-
like a hiss from a dip
of a branding iron
burn me with your lips
and make me yours-
ride me into the abyss
-of sighs.
r ~ 9/25/14
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 3:09 PM UTC
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
perched atop a muddy graze
amongst the reefing centipede
does lady jade a’ponder days
from whence the eldest had decreed.
*"what's this a'fuss upon the breeze
that sings a song of fallen trees?"
**a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..***
was broadening—a shiver, swift—
bespoken of her crown to rest?
what way whereby these spirits lift
that hide should (of the head) contest?
*"what, unbeknownst, should overwhelm
this silv'ry shoat, what's felling elm?"
**a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..***
amidst a cruel cacophony,
the lady seed, she must concede
the razing of her progeny
beholden to appease a need.
*"what's this in want of dire good
that preys upon upholding wood?"
**a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..***
on arbor brawn does ardor dine
does earthen daughter march to meet
as tireless as the vile design
divesting mother's gen'rous teat.
*"what subtleties uproot the heart
as bodies from their souls depart?"
**a burnin' Birgham urn, aburn!
a'crack—a'whack—a'wish..***
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
There was a fog that seemed to hover thickly
over the perceived salience of his musings
It was as if there were a veiled mystique
that left hopeful understanding ,
ambiguously obscured ...
His soul's cadences fell beyond the pale ,
like a reverberant iron bell’s clamor ,
drowning acumen ;
albeit , unmistakabe crystal clear allusions ,
scanning inwardly, rhapsody in his mind's eye
Illusive accord ,
beclouded by seeming stigmas
borne of the flesh ;
delicately sensitive nuances ,
misunderstood imperfections ,
bespoken utterance weighed heavy upon heart ...
In the hush of pensive repose ,
flow of soul streamed forth from its retreat within ;
bequeathed as if darkness
was magnetically drawn towards light ,
purging muted understanding ...
Assuredly seeking all questions with verve ,
accepting , that all answers sought
are not meant to be understood
A realization of those who wish to speak yet abide unspoken ;
the unseen mark of those that wished they had been loved ,
befallen the music of a thundering heartbeat ,
understanding a circle is vulnerable ,
only makes it stronger ―
hence ,..
it had been written
in countless misunderstood ways ...
Knowing he resists an inner-voice to endure silently
for a fear of that which remains indelibly writ ,
tattooed on introspective walls
far removed from the afterglow of light ,
where depth of soul yearns to be freed ;
heart speak hushed , deft words avowed
in enigmatic tongues ― Vayu doth whisper
soul's prevailing tides ebb and flow
from unseen depths , permeating
deeply within inner realms
The spirit of soul once steeped his heart’s intone :
"Spell words that bind together passing strangers
*Coalesce thoughts to inspirit those whom often walk alone
Append the goodwill of poetry, aspiring to bond individual
hearts and minds with words of love and light.
Conjure written spells to bespeak sincerely ,
a faith in unabated love*"
and yet , he will write it again and again ,.. searching beyond words
…words grasped from emerging thoughts
drawn in to the light
searching for other adept words
to recite yet another way ,
sketch another word-scape ,
written with the relentless inexhaustibleness
of an unstoppable awakening ...
Another winter dawn imbues a new day come to light
he will write it again and again ,
... finding another way to be set free ...
Harlon Rivers
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
A daily disturbance
In the cloud cover
Outside bespoken walls
It comes with knives
Walks with noise
To claim its hostage
Listen...
The snow is falling
One syllable at a time
Upon fields of defenseless flowers
The day after it started
No one waved goodbye
The caroling of bells
Is a music we fear
Standing paralyzed
We wait for a sign
In a time of risk
Because soon is slipping away
Oct 17, 2022
Oct 17, 2022 at 11:28 AM UTC
Coyote’s mournful cries echo across
the bitter frozen wintry darkness
A deepening silence thrums as loudly
as the echoes the unanswered bays
Snowflakes mute the fading wails
coyote’s softly questioning appeals
An eerie answerless hush echoes
through the boughs,
writhing in the piercing frigid
wildwood blackness
The howling east wind gathers in
the throes of the lonely bespoken pleas
Carrying the weight borne a bone chilling
silent ache, beyond with the frozen autumn leaves
wild is the wind ... December 8th, 2016
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
8AM strikes like a *****
And romping the losing street -
The engineered reptile stalks the hound we are.
The soldiered army, oozing molten pride,
Spike me in the side with their knees
Lifted to caution, so-so below the chin
The cold, dead breath bullies like a child
Never been taught, never have they ought;
I give them pity like spit, the drool reared.
The glands of my sodden state are nucleic
They spark and fizz and pop at the slightest fix
And they mount the green turf as they say the things they say
They say them in spite
Their eyes to register a flat-line, the pulse of my eyelid
Froths staring into their granite granules, you call them eyes
I do despise, I do despise,
The heartless range of those hunter-deers,
The wet pathos that criminals invoke
And then, I woke, the rage, the rage!
A mountainous affair, cracked into your skin
You wished I were dead so you could be thin.
And when I am not hot,
Risen, aired by the microwaved Monday dawning,
I can almost laugh about the spaces between your eyes
The slight disgust, the frozen musk
Awns over me, little fist tight of pink
Ears rabbited off -- a sharp, twisted empale
And then, you are there--
Frozen and dominating, your coffin spooks to me
A spoken longing and then all we know wilts
A running red cloak of tartan regrets
Jades the illicit wail bespoken after the instrumental twist
The torture device you call your words is broken out
I ask for one thing, beg for it, screech it
To the solars like I am owed.
Knowing Death, if not heed, the spited greed--
Give me strength, for the thoughts
The thoughts, that blow through me
Windswept, gliding the dead human ash through my marsh
Do not upturn the limped greyed grass
And blow through, a harmless storm,
With nothing to say about how I carry my day.
Move on to your homeward-bound, your
Concentration plantation, reeling off dead spinners
Like your words, your cold ******* words.
You slimy ******* you ****
I have spoken, one million syllables,
For your satisfaction.
You lord it over me like a raw-meat hand
Of the disciples. Well, well, Judas, Judas --
I bite my tongue. I bite it so it jades.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
The veil is now unravelled,
the storm dust now blown,
when left with the calm after the storm
even deciduous time seems forlorn.
There is the perfunctory trial
of breathing air to sustain,
yet in the end, I revive what,
the beliefs I let go,
the conviction from which I abstain?
I then saw reason, in this miniscule delight
of finding a realm that is positively alight
with candour and supremacy,
they regale without caution,
and entertain as they must,
in words left unspoken,
they reveal more than just.
The truth though is bespoken,
within the confines of deceit,
while the soul hunts for absolution
the mind quakes in defeat.
Annihilation is the quest,
that brought me to this place,
the answer that will be found,
is am I in passing,
or here to stay?
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
The ancient way across this world lies like sunset over black pearls,
The treetops are marble-made that the riffler of wind deforms,
To know all mother tongues from the quarry of rough stones,
To speak everything at once, Bride of Unbecoming,
The moldering walls of lips, the kiss of vacant streets
And the quiet, wet solitude bespoken by back roads,
The whispered origami of the Forum, paper gods in folds,
Smothered in the false pillows of their own repose,
The wolf’s beard dipped in the fresh pant of dewfall,
While lovers have placed on the stones of the Appian Way
Their perfect hearts like votive candles, cupping the flames,
Looking down the swift arrow of loneliness, Sagittarius its same
Heaven-glow and besprinkled guidepost of a starlit Sacred Way.
Mother of Rome, your powdered face has been made ashen by those
Unreturned home, your far-off travels lead only to the graves of sons.
The ancient way across this world lies like sunset over black pearls.
Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 11:32 AM UTC
Some say he is wise
Some say simply hardened
A wizened, numb,
Impermeable ball
Of love mislaid
Trust betrayed.
A web
Of gritty layers
Interweaved,
Deceived ,
His heart is
Sewn and patched
Small puncture holes
(gasping, weeping, bleeding)
This heart
Pre-stitched and worn.
He gives tokens
Of self
Bespoken
By the body,
Giving and taking
Loving and hating.
Some say he is hard
Some say **** being easy.
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 4:48 PM UTC
[To Mary C.]
I've met again a violin and a piano in a cooperative anguish of a story.
To reminisce
(Or is it "recall"? "Reminisce" is only laced with joy)
Your love for that black and white ministry of music that I believe there is
And taste it together with notes of those honey strings before which I shiver delightfully instead
Make and made a prompt haste and nostalgic astrae longed to be left by a human's bed.
Just to let you know and sense,
I'm having and feeling you too on my thoughts and oh so unspoken words of laced understatements,
Right on that Rainy Song dúo.
I'm sure you're sleeping tight.
But no harm done.
It's better this way. Not binding you to your face, calling you without name or reason.
Really, hope my act doesn't creep or leave out, it's form and prolonging chaotic and loud
It is that "God-like" state who makes me a mute lovesick fool, a wannabe paramour to any of your kin, who wants to pepper kisses on each tear and stare in each other's eyes for hours with no matter bespoken.
I'll leave simply my note at the table,
Like one leaving the other in the bed before dawn.
No "I'll stay" nor "I'm leaving",
Tinted with tenerezza cazza.
No explaining, the void necessary for the sense of reason and authenticity bigger than the material the literal.
Don't get up, don't bother, sleep tight, don't rise.
Just be aware you were on my mind, may that make you rise.
Experience ya later, not see ya later,
In salty waters our stars I now fight to see in the dark at that signs of the clock without glasses on.
I wish to finally dispose of needs of my vessel for at least those few holy moments clad in ombré.
Have the dearest night,
Goodbye.
~
PS Don't look for sense, don't name it or trap it, just let it experience you, kiss you and have it. Dismantle, dismantle the logic together before it becomes a sicario forever.
Eyelids closing and ending
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 5:26 PM UTC
*You by whose sweet nature does rule this text,
As surely as I spell your name, your thoughts it reflects.
My longings my darling are nothing less than your desires,
Our combined cloudy pillar floating on high by our inner fires.
My second dream is but a forethought of your mind’s first wand
Parting my words and showing me your promised hand.
Who’s to say, in some very far off distant age,
They will say that I have exercised some sacred prophet's rage?
An unpeopling prayer within our combined diviner's themes,
Like we were young filled with vision and the old people's dreams!
To thee, my Love’s Savior, to thee my vows’ confess,
I am never satisfied with the time the world gives us in bliss.
Swift do those times pass, bespoken each timely romp, thy hips do proclaim,
These words, a stammering thought teaching me how to whisper thy name.*
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
There’s a little corner in my heart
Which is bespoken from the start
I used this corner on my own
For a little moment all alone
This corner was a precious bit
I let no one but myself sit
It was reserved for the cherished one
No one but me was that person
My love with me this corner saw
I could safely let me here thaw
Then one day my heart saw a rush
All around there was a gush
It’s beats reached up peaks really high
And Every inch let out a sigh
It was the day you entered here
Awed my heart you musketeer
You searched around for a living space
In that corner you found your place
An invasion I couldn’t stop
Your charm was making my heart throb
I tried to get you out of there
After all this was all my sphere
I heard a voice in the background run
Isn’t this space for the special one..??
I guess I loved you more than me
Coz in that corner I let you be
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC
I have my hand on a chain
I am pulled along and the drain is insane
I can't obstain or restrain the pain I feel as I am dragged alond the feild
But I won't let it go, I won't let you steal the way I feel
make a meal of me, and then say it wasn't a big deal
My body is battered and broken, and I am always beholden
I have more to do as my time is always bespoken
The chain is harder and harder to hold on
and way is harder and harder to forge on.
I am tiered and honestly, sometimes I don't feel as if I can go on
But I won't let go
Because i refuse to let the world know
That it has beaten me
I won't let that dept grow nor will I ever slow.
I will meet you blow for blow
from the tides of spring to winters snow
As the acorn falls and the rains do flow
And you will watch that oak tree grow
from a sapling as you and I are grappling
You won't understand what is happening.
You will think that I am a creature of some crazy fantacy.
Why do I go on, I couldn't tell you.
Death just seems more fun if only I knew how to
But this heart of mine just keeps beating
And I just continue living and my hand keeps on gripping
and I will be ****** if I just up and leave it.
I am a molded wreking ball
unhappy unless I am wrecking
For when I am not, I am only a ball
even the wrecking part of my name just falls
And whats the point of being just a ball
For when I was created I was called the wrecking ball
My pourpose is in my duty
My duty is in my pourpose
and whats worse, the course I am on
would be gone without this chain
So how can I complain even when I am in pain
Without this chain I would be plain
I would be a ball detached from the crain.
So go on, and I will hold on
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
I’m a castaway enjoying the rough winter seas
on the carrack of a late age ship.
Flotsam, flotsam, weighing back to a place
full of roiling stomachs and stubborn jaws.
Of waiting to fight and curling up under
a tale of adventure to escape the hurling words,
walking out to hide under stark snowy logs
fallen over, trespassing in frustration of
collected angers.
Pockmarked roads and rushed breath,
screaming in my head, lips ******* shut
wishing for the Shire to land
on my doorstep.
Stalking away, leaving behind,
My, maybe one time I’ll get there,
to rolling hills and bespoken not
against my nature.
“im human too,”
and my mother looks confused.
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 1:34 PM UTC
Light has a language
Share the wealth...
Worth is ours, for a quaint rage
Stick out your tongue, we sake health
Waged wars, stirring a shadow
Mete and future heat
Had for arbitrary whence, when owed
Is a clash with empathy, embarrassed to seat...?
An angel at the table of anarchy
Sweet fares, sweeter charity
Marvel with mine, a dead flower is happy
Tell tale harmony, of vivid disparity...
Ought the spare, the special
Lips of virtue, we will know
Water over the bridge, and a succinct smell
Of death playing, at an imagined blow...?
Of a friend, within an eyes shadow
See me, the ironic role of breath
With a moment to decide, a gladdened more
That has bespoken the world, in a day love has let...
Oct 25, 2024
Oct 25, 2024 at 1:50 PM UTC
The world is becoming
impossible to govern
Each person that island
Donne warned us about
All sense of belonging
in mirrors bespoken
The strength of shared values
—our vanity flouts
(Dreamsleep: February, 2023)
Feb 10, 2023
Feb 10, 2023 at 11:03 AM UTC
Each Day These Chains
I put upon Myself
For Time Escaped
This Unlocked Prison Cell
Left Empty By All
But For
Loyal Command
meant
To Thee Sweet Dove
I would Be Gone
This Prison
Once a Home
I Hear For Clear Escape
What means Shall I My Path
Now Take
Each Door Long Dead
The Faces Thru Them
Nothing More Than
Thoughts of Stealing
Made in Form
Barricade the Door
Clear Intention.
Perfect Good Your Greatest Ally
Return Full Moon
The Selves,
Only those of Trust
Life Breaths
Their Numbers Virtue
In every Stead
Make One of them to Speak
True Vision
For My Angel
Thought Thats Lives
Wisdom Shall Be Right Choice
Council. Yourself with Love's Balance
Those who are Friends first,
and Advisors Second.
Loyalty their Virtue
Support Their Bespoken Gift.
Be Prepared
Within The Light
We Stand.
Jul 23, 2016
Jul 23, 2016 at 2:08 AM UTC
I.
I know my time
Is well overdue,
But let me reach
The bespoken waves
Of the starless sea of dreams
Before time has gotten its way.
II.
I wish my world could be remade
Or saved
By the dreamers,
But I have given too much,
And flown the past the dust ,
Once too many.
So now I say,
Let the wisps of dreaming lights fall down,
And have the ashes fly up to the stars.
~Fin.
Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 3:56 PM UTC
seldom do i recall the vastness of the open—
your cold invitingly holds me to the unspoken;
beckons at me through that sylvan oaken
world beyond worlds, rising within me, bespoken
of that grandeur through the sky—floating
just beyond the edges of our emotion.
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 6:06 PM UTC