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NuurSeraph Jun 2014
Raisin colored Island, how the waters pruned You too, lazy coconut day, climb with rope tied feet and lack the fear of heights. Such terrain as if every part of the world shared a piece to make you. I praise your autonomous solitude, rest assured amongst the South Pacific Blue.

Piecemeal makes much more simply than succeeded individuality. A Euro here, a Euro there, the Rail can take you everywhere....Well, Eastern rules are slightly stern, seems time stood still in terms of brood, but, betwix the contrast of the artistry it is hard to be angry with Tradition.

Goa, India I will never forget You, how could I, You raised me, my mother tongue was Konkoni, the shore side village was Home for me. Later in life coming back shaded a more solemn hue, it is my Heart that couldn't handle it, the Truck ride through....the major transit cities, those who have seen, you know what I mean. It did not help to have to leave my childhood memories and GodParents behind for the hundredth time. I miss you Madrina.
...Still Whirling around the World...
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2022
Sep 15 10:45am
Silver Beach, Peconic  Bay, Shelter Island

it is the day of the twixt and tween,
64°, stolid breeze on a bright sunshiny day,
but no question, we are well ensconced in
**** season, overlooking the shadowy, dry, speckled
blotchy, thirsty grass, and an empty bay, sails put aside

it’s a normal/semi-normal moment,
simultaneously secular and heaven blessed,
the stimuli of the quietude is the outlier,
it’s quantitude is overwhelming, it’s amplitude,
a wave of farewell humbled hushed rumblings of wind and
the drip of dropping leaves that fails to puncture
the total absence of noises, human et. al.

shirt off, chest wet & warmed, a light jacket,
my wrapper from the firm chill,
an undeniable temperate moment,
for this is an interlude day,
a goodbye and hello
shucked/unshucked poem,
the only semi-frisky item on the menu

even the animal kingdom respectful,
recognizing the sorrowful solitude
of this single intruder, so no cawing, honking,
even rabbits quietly chewing, their senses understand
this is a  remorseful write on a beauteous 1/365,
an adieu + au revoir script to
this island

but then the sign!

between Silver Beach and Noyac,
three heads a-bobbing,
white throats and white underbellies upright,
too far away to be heard,
but I swear I hear the purposeful porpoises saying:

“Adieu! Adieu!
until we see you and yours
once more,
for many more,
till then,
we await our mutual sheltering together,
in our shared waters”

<>

our summer palace,
where the sum of each newborn morn,
begins a life extending day, offsetting the aging of cells,
and softee smiles of children are botox injections,
directed to the soul’s lining,
an antigen antidote
to the toll time’s antibodies extract,
time units recorded and kept hid in the
the surround sound
of a special silence,
the sounds of rays twinkling
upon the waves,
reminders to everyone
that we are merely
betwixt and between
a plentiful heaven today
and a
plentiful heaven tomorrow
Tafuta Atarashī Feb 2016
I.


We are a young pair enjoying
An exchange of pleasantries
over aromatic tea and pita bread.
The ancient sun above has surely seen
Many times betwix youth, enamoured courting.
Beside our plates lemon halves are dripping
sour juices into the bright napery thread.
You've brought chocolate sweets,
Fruits for tasting, and sublte flirting to stir my chest.  
And I've packed wine bought cheap
Some dainties and humor
To cause peals of your laughter to reach
High up into the bright blue heavens.

II.

The sun is readying to rest
and I lay, head in your lap with
face shrouded in your curly hair
as you plant your sugary delights on my lips.

The nights distant bright lights
flare as you lean comfortably into my chest.
The only sounds, our beating hearts
and our soft smooth breaths.
Broken only by soft whispers
Of ardent words that settle and rest
In our souls and minds.
Desires exposed to the dark night
Until at last we must say goodbye.

III.

Late that night I
Recall ever detail, every moment,
From the sound of your laughs, to your coy flirting.
From the way you fed me, to the way you began kissing.
How my finger locked with yours.
And Your faint perfume rubbed into my pores
Leaving me  inhaling deeply for the scent.
I fall to sleep, ever nerve yearning for more
I sleep, desiring you once again.

IV.

An afternoon to remember,
And an evening to never forget.
For many a time like that we
In younger days spent.
Even now, that sweet distant memory
Remains ever pleasant.
Even now as my days increase
I remember our untainted
Enamored admiration.
Even now as I fall to time,
The one thing on my mind  is you.
I recall of that sweet youth.
Trying a new style. This actually adapted from a precious poem that I'll post later. Let me know what you think of it!
Klaus Baumgarten Jun 2014
Oh, this foul currency!
fevered up from the stewing *** of pride
for what I longed, betwix the empty spaces
the finish line now the gunshot
and what of the exchange rate?
how many angers is love worth?
when a passion-plays transfered to selfindulgence
there is some overlap, and a chopping block is needed
and the sharpness may pierce the skin and stain, your ingrain
when did that ever bother me anyway?
love for art or love of art?
it is a ****** that works the teller booth, with smooth words and clean rationalizations
minty
gross
a little too much of a bad thing that tastes good
can't get the taste outa my mouth...i think i cut my tongue
and now other flavors are flavorless, bland, unessential
if it comes from within and the insides are but a void
then what can come out?
and the perpetual turned shoulder fears a quick glance, but desires that knowing stare and smile
badgers, fierce and fluffy.
moose, strong and moosey.
the common line was in that connection
everything else is superfluous
hindsight is, eh, 20/20
foresight..well ****.. i knew what it was
the dark hand extended with warm vibes and false face
you could find it in anyone's hand
is there a case being plead?  perhaps.. or it's just the void talking
it was a redness, angry, tender, vile, beautiful, servile, dominating. perfect.
maybe it's on the road..a squirrel being struck by ****** drivers
maybe it is the road, long and thoughtful
maybe it's a bad poem
this one?
yes.
Butch Decatoria Aug 2016
Schrodinger's Cat neither waits
nor happenstance bothers to care
for whom so ever chances by
the box - betwix' the here and there now
nowhere / no one to bow
down, or dare say...
(it's a trap to make you mad)

the mind's eye now patiently indifferent,
only wonders
at the ripples of much ado's
(inside our snow globe of true blue,
of real world blunders
dans le'mer)...
The storms are our own burdens
because man can't pick up after themselves,
can't seem to even share...

And every turn of a passerby,
another student guide & gurl & guy
each unique in totality--each a world
unto themselves--curious will also die,
whether the answer is gleaned
in the blink of an eye
or enlightened gates may appear
the question still in flux,
flummox of empty airs
yet was always supposedly
within, divinely
pondering
"who am I now here?"

Not when or why or how
should we question or make belief
reality...
for the dreamer is a genie asking
for all the wishes
or one for himself
to make,

when the storm on the ocean waves
will ask in turn,
do you always prepare yourself
with lies and mistakes?
to seek the unknown with mind
un-awake??


If its a paradox to look beyond
and question time or God,
then it will be lightning for our own enlightening
which will strike unworthy mud,
back to whence it should
if you open a box which is known
to ****, our will, and could
even fearless men
have died and have never since
felt fulfillment
or some peace
of heaven ... (it's all good)

Because everyone mortal or matter
of flesh - of fact - of time - being less
bleeding thinking to outwit
the vastness of oceans
to claim the ultimate prize...
know now where you stand
since everyone dies

but who has truly lived
worthy of a sky, a moment
skipping a beat,
opens the eyes with awe
a heart feeling exuding heat...

Where is the wonder?
Wasting all time,
thought experiment--riddles and mimes
making of nothing
walls in our minds...

Ask no more stupid questions
you know the answers to
or answers no problems
to better the world
ill from all men do,

because I am
as you are
as we all are miraculously
here

I am both
We are One
Paradox and Perfection
in oceans of tears,
and so goes the question

"What's going on?
There's so much crap,
just stop the bull ...
or get out of the way"


Schrodinger and his cat
(can go **** themselves
in hell / in limbo
the exact moment the choice
is hypothetically made)

Why ask if ... or dare should say...

I'd rather look for Tomorrow
and no answers
but the brilliant Life,
for a better day.
Because I know (Love)
and believe in truth.

Peace. &. Namaste.

*(I bow to the divine in you)
Meggie D Jul 2013
The words
That slipped unguided, that flew
Into you ears
Unsupervised, that leapt outward from
My teeth, flailing
Unintentionally,
Those words were
Deeply rooted
betwix the life I lead &
The one
I merely
Dream of...
Those words were
Drunken
Whispers that clung to
My lips in an
Increasingly ravenous fashion the
More I carried on.
brought on by scented winds;
Their fragrance intoxicating
Any sense of inhibition
I once
Possessed, labeling me
Inadequate
In my
Present form.
Mikitara Jul 2013
pale paper wings penciled betwix brown shoulder blades
she was an angel in her notebook
but a failure in her mind
Apachi Ram Fatal Jun 2017
the night we stay with Satan\
shore cycles of Karma will swing\
true plink betwix auditorium plunk\
Kin deep wreaking frail grim reap\
Keeping the Peace maker horn\
charmer reborn slumber Sparrow\
swarm base oiling gladness churn\
long face wide zygomorphic burial\
laced golden silence relish relics daze\
tyrance maze efface miraculous Mayans\
fingere lunge literal transliterating Dunya\
          distill animation by God triangulate\
  Panagia onomatopoeia layman infiltratIon\
red writen circuit burnt innocence clipped\
insulant urn of the surgat son\
opening null locking sun in all dials\
primeval mercifulness\
primordial noteworthiness\
may be relieving points for taking\
and giving a flying shackle **** back\
one down pass it around another lie\

shoved down the throat again\
found in the bottomless pit awake it\
() thing worse than being lost when\
it's your Necessities that are looking\
Ain't that the truth although tainted\
Eluding absentmindedly words\
flow retroactively channeling\
purposeful jurisdiction thinking\
actuality is thee meant to be what\

consequently conceptualized where\
attitudes collect pealing aptitude\
manifests inception dictated in\
comforts own skin pretentious\
dictators impose upon Carthage Pillars\
irritatedly prioritizing Pagan fillers\
reflect surround sinners encroach\

exploring Asia Minor capacity inspect delve interest\
coach self linguist design intellect major retrospect\
outspand intrinsically extort distortion awaken\
infernal declarations transmogrify\
straight lines entwine utterance\
embrace praise Raise feathers halo\
  Altitude of the Almighty deity maker\
genuflect bare Manitou provocate heir bait\

albeit Iron Maiden answers prayers fate\
giveth and be not deceived receive\
A divinity Key degree Aleph hook creek\
handling sobbing grief debrief steam decree\
kneeling bleeding evaporate disguised healing\
trees spree free be guarded prophetic maven\
emancipate  to the seventh greet Phoenician Valhalla Heavens\
We haven't left the dark ages
here is hope wishing we will
Sin Jan 2016
Does not the love thou show
Quench my arid heart
To quell the fire that doth rage within
My heartless kingdom

For you say to me your king
That there is no other such that can feed
Your pitiful heart
How you speak false words of snakes
Yet hide me unto the shadow of the night

Did I not feed the urge betwix the milky thighs and not give you all that desire called for
Yet here you stand with dagger pressed against my breast waiting to cull

Amartia doth thy not see you king loves you
For your eye's do not belong to a blind hag
Yet you cannot see what the gods have blessed you with

Be still child and let the gods whisper
And the fire that salty tears have quelled
Shall no longer burn for my Amartia
Gr8Ryzyngz Jul 2018
Took my heart home
Smell of vanilla wax burning
What am I going to do with u
What did I do without u
Before you met the me
You thought you knew
The day I met you
Questionable ones and twos
Mic checking mother fauqaz
Don't got da dj'z klue
Trying to figure out what's going on Betwix me and you
Ain't never been Nobody's Business But our own
There is better to come
That claim to fame it will be better I will be better
Not the second time around  
The very first time I looked
In your eyes I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt
I could see nobody else
If by chance
This is too good to be true
You knew who you weren't
Before you knew I loved only YOU!
thick swirling clouds
of black and rotten thoughts
that plague me
how they cry
when I am weary
no soul should feel so
crowded
no heat should carry this
burden
when the song in me has died
and the glass slips
from betwix my fingers
warm and weary
the sand shall weep
and so shall you
for the  time is up
and the lights are off
no one is home
inside me
Butch Decatoria May 2020
It is said that even in the darkest of places, deepest pitch of spaces, betwix the stars and distances of dream or wasteland, even in sleep, the Light will gleam, a heart will beat—so life is scene —through eyes we’ve seen, the truth of dark places, Light is found. Sight is sound.

— The End —