Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sana Feb 2015
Won't you dare
Step in the storm?
Won't you dare
Cup the hand of fate in yours?

Lead on the way
Amidst corridors of blazing sands
Won't you let the friction carve?
Your hands, your sight and heart?

Brushing against your face,
Peeling off your gentle fate
My friend; won't you dare?
And step in the roaring lair?

For ashes and dust
Is this greyish world
So burn the flame
And light in fumes

Hear the tapping of your feet
And feel your sole melt away
On strange wooden lands
Sprinkled with blazing sand

Catch the pebbles
Struck at you
Let it burden till you grieve,
Or build the castle of your dream

Set ablaze, set ablaze
Set yourself ablaze;
Let yourself combust and scarred
And become the blazing star
Connor Vibes Jul 2018
Blazing the sun,
Here I am living my life having fun.
The days go by in a world that never sleeps.

Despite my efforts in life of doing my best. Life to me feels like it is a test.
Sometimes I weep, I feel like I’m playing on a deck of cards.

Sometimes people ask, what’s the matter?
But my life’s just getting better.

My soul is like the ocean,
Strong, deep and wild.
Adventurous and creative to the core.

I find myself wanting more.

I’m surrounded in a world that’s just about vanity, but to me that’s just insanity.

Sometimes I feel down, I feel like a clown.
There are times I cry and die a little inside.

My head feels like it’s going to explode when I feel anxious, moments when my head feels like it’s on fire because I feel dire.

I walk alone because I’m wise. I avoid small minds.

Music and clarity are the only things that keep me away from insanity. They are the reflection of my aura. The definition of my life’s mission.
After all, I’ll always do what I can with my time just to be fine.
There’s no need to use my intuition.

A poem written by Connor Vibes.
(2018 - All rights reserved)
EAC Dec 2014
A sudden jealousy a envious eye.
A voiceless pattern within this head of mine.
A vigilant figure, watchful eye.
A masked emotion on a blazing red sky.
I don't dare voice my thoughts because they are of scorn, my inside twist in discord.
A feeling, a urge to should, a voice so broken to see her stripped away
Verse: I
Waleed Khalidi Dec 2014
Did you see the bliss
Shoot across the night sky?
Here then there so quickly
Like a blink could project its moment
Yet when crumbling
Into the quake of memory
It is the window's remaining rain
Trickling down so slowly after the storm
Until all that is left is its drying trail
Clear to see the tired clouds sink behind
A heart so weathered
Never truly sleeps. Never rests
The hallow beats manifest
Into the crippling visions of the night
Blanketed by such distress
Until the rising light does nothing
But awaken the regrets that were left on the nightstand
Like a book with one chapter
No where left to turn
Do you see the ache
Shining dim in the night sky?
Like a footprint in the moon's dust
As alone as one could ever walk
Do you see the shame?
Like forty dying stars
Their fiery, blazing eyes
Watching every paranoid jitter
Ashley Chapman Aug 2018
These days have ebbed
as Love's swell was checked:
the waters in some places
- all but dammed!

But now at last
I sense the rising tide
and thank Temese
for the current's turn;
now following that great writhing snake
to where its pulsing head will rake;
over the mucky soiled watery beds
of Woolwich
Greenwich
Limehouse
- and under -
Tower Bridge

     To that great gloating sight
                A crown of a billion lights
     Blazing day and night:
                And somewhere within
     In the slick oily warmth
                Our flood tides mesh,
     As over each other we wash.

Hard thrusts
wicked deep cuts
given and received
are recorded in that great mirror smoked!
where with a tug and a shove
on the banks
in the streets
through the loopy twists
everything prospers in the glow
as the decades decaying flow;
each ***** bud
red with new blood
one after t'other
flowers
before their purple petals scatter.

Let's on the luck o' the dice
(you 'n' me!)
ride out
on the flotsam and jetsom
that has carried us this far
and as pleases
merge.
London, a city with a rhythm, the Thames, which I sailed upon one Saturday morning - not a soul at this end of this magestic river, this city, in which I have lived for forty years...And love - a wonderful woman - and how I desire us to pull at each other as tides do, tugging at each other, two flows running over reeds and muddy shelves searching for each other in the cool green depth.
Cné Sep 2017
~
Rainbows in a sky of blue
with clouds of grey beyond,
Ripples lapping lilypads,
upon a golden pond,

Just above me and you
Blanketing our passion
As our loving ensues
The sky watches us on

A cool breeze on a summer's day,
my love within my arms,
Clouds that block the blazing sun,
a coyish smile that charms,

All these things and more I dream
when sleep mine eyes doth close,
But most of all, a peace within,
and love that always grows.

~
A collaboration with Palmer
Love struck a spark
when first our eyes
into each others gazed--
once kindled there,
pure passion flared
into a fiery blaze.

Love fiercer burns
each time we meet.
The dead cry it is sin:
these hearts alight,
twin torches bright,
blazing in the wind.
Prabhat Chhetri Feb 2017
city concrete crawling horizons

all preposterous blazing everywhere

THE GODS DOTH FEEL OF SUNSETS
like my wallet feels about emptiness

I am Mr neanderthal
flinting boring words
to light up one poem
to save myself from those nights that don't stop at the door

All I desire at this point is simple unchanging dullness
like drawing Tom with running shoes and Jerry with a Tom resistant suit


the streets are empty but the windows come alive
and the houses wake up
and there is light from the TV
and a child watching Disney Cartoons
and a parent ringing the doorbell
and dinner table conversations with the evening news on

and outside the dogs on the street chase every other vehicle that pass by

You don't even have a license.
c Apr 21
Tonight I burn with a reckless abandon
Both ends in embers
I am choking on my smoke
I’m sorry I’m blunt
I’m sorry I’m numb
I’m sorry I run away
From everything trying to help me
I cannot share my sadness with you.
King Panda Apr 2017
Only the strongest dark lines
cut the vision of your
profile. Your visage—a blazing ball
of gas—atoms emitting light in
every version day.
Sammie wells Mar 2014
...Dancing round
A Blazing fire
A tribe of humans
Like no other
Worship money
In suit and tie
Beating drums
Chanting greed

Sky stays dark

Dancing round
A Blazing fire
A tribe of humans
Like one another
Flow with the land
Dressed in paint
Beating drums
Chant with nature

Diamond's in the sky

Dancing round
A Blazing fire
Planet Earth
Beating drums
Chanting with
the universe...
Tammy M Darby Jul 2013
Happy Valentines Day

If Venus child
Come loves melody sing
I shall break the bow
And slash the string

If he dare to infect me
Trick my heart into desire
Seasoned on a spit he will be
Roasted in a blazing fire

Conniving
Whisper sweet nothings in my ear
Tear off his wings
Turn my eyes from his tears

Not by the all the gods decree
Will I commit my love to another
Binding his mischievous hands
Return him swiftly to his mother

My warnings are clear
Unheeded
Towards me he point the arrow
His last sweet breath
This cherub shall inhale
Never more see the morrow



This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base.  All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),
Tammy M. Darby
laura May 2018
she’s blazing ease
young summer, things
are kinda difficult
when i don’t know how to drive
says he likes my body
and i don’t know how to feel
when i don’t see my body
the same way he does

odd serendipities
the sun stupefying, thick grass
tangles beneath our thighs
and our ceiling is the sky
adrift in a reverie
but it feels so strange
sunday uncanny
playing around with odd satisfaction
Stephen E Yocum Jan 2014
What is this thing,
This change in me,
What is this feeling,
That is happening to me?
This possessing of my spirit.
This seemingly lack of control,
That was not always so.

That a concerto slow turn,
Played and heard,
Renders me weak in the knees,
A sweet moment of human joy,
Or actual real grief,
Even viewed on a movie screen
Can tug at my heart so.

So too, a child’s sweet song,
Though sung off key.
A blazing sunset,
Orange and red,
A thrilling thing to behold.
Nature always a motivator,
All of these and more,
Pluck cords of my emotions,
Like the strings of a harp,
So easily reduce me to tears.
Not body shaking sobs mind you,
Just a slow gentle stream,
Nothing my sleeve can't deal with.  

"Men don’t cry",
"Sensitivity is only for women",
Or so I have always been told.
Well it’s taken me a long time,
But I have concluded this bias,
Is a load of unadulterated *******!
‘Cause as it turns out,
I actually enjoy it.
And see no reason I shouldn't.

Not to mention,
It keeps my tear ducts open,
And free flowing.
In touch as I am with my feelings.
Strange the changes that occur in us, be they age induced or
a softening of the heart. Maybe they were always there and
we held them back.
Dimitris Sarris Apr 2018
A question carries me, scorching shores
in a blazing trail.
A question vexes me and provokes my
interest.
How do we come to know the unknownable?
Should our faculties prove enough or should we
push ourselves to venture further and further?
Into the deep unknown we travel
where a flicker of wild eyes lurk.
Should the story terrify me,
would my thought comfort me?
In moonlight's shadow the tale begins
on shores of gold my tale will end.
Kevin J Taylor Nov 2015
I remember. I remember
The flying leaves and floating leaves
Blazing yellow-orange-red

Until, wind-felled, their final embers
I remember to this day
This wet wool-gray, this end of day

Paris that November
.
Paris attacks, 13 November 2015.


.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry from common things.)
zebra Nov 2018
her happiness is everything
her pathos; be kind with cruelty

blood and tears, a royal jelly
merciless kisses like blazing pyres
she cries through a night prayer

my push pin princess;
a crimson petal
nerves edge;
jutting ******* seeking cleavers kiss

to serve
to serve
to serve

smiling for a relish of wasps
she knows she is loved
a loved red faced surprise
**** mouth, red chirping sparrow
wax teeth melting
succubus, **** flower

gratefully crushed under foot
toes like musical notes
little pearl ruins  
grave stones
whipped cream butter cookie in chains
stipule corridor
**** plume
serrations gush, a singing Dahlia
ripped rose, thorned and curt
plush flames
her skull a throat

her liturgy
weeping, licking gods bulging ****
wakes her inside
giving her religion
sacrificed on a crucifix of *****
**** of heaven
a burning church possessed

drooling supplications
lustrous saliva web drapes trembling downward thighs
a glutinous chandler
melts like silk around ankles
crystal silt on scorched heels

to serve
to serve
to serve

her happiness is everything
her pathos; be kind with cruelty
I love pervy pixie
Bison Jun 2016
I should care but I don't
You could dare but you won't
And I kept dreaming of snow
In the midst of blazing summer
Awake while you're burning slumber
Lover, you will never know
Of the death of our love
I never felt so rough
We'll sing of the sesh, our heads' song,
With cheering rousing bants,
As 'round a blazing joint we throng,
The starry heavens clothe us,
Impatient for thy coming line,
To shtall off tha morning's ****-light,
Hear our tchoons pulse thru the night,
We'll chant a sesh-head's song.

Sesh-heads are we
whose lives are pledged to sessioning,
People have come
to us from places all over,
Sworn to rave,
No more our ancient seshland
shall shelter the anti-craic of the state.
Tonight we house the gap of danger,
In session's cause, comedown or ****,
Bass cannon's roar as we dance,
We'll chant a session's song.
Sinne Fianna Seis,
atá faoi gheall ag Seisiún,
Daoine dár slua
thar ó áiteanna do ráinig chugainn,
Faoi mhóid bheith rave,
Seistír ár sinsear feasta
ní fhágfar faoin frith-chraic ar an stáit.
Anocht a teach sa bhearna baoil,
Le gean ar Seis, chun báis nó saoil,
Le balla de dord romhainn, agus muid ag damhsa,
Seo libh canaídh amhrán na tseisiún.
It no longer exists.

The wind; a passing gale sweeps
my laurels.
The desert is filled, too many
my voice.

Origin, a return to birth.
A sword of blazing fire, winged
halts me.

Where are you Eden?

I look and look,
the desert is filled with voices too many,
which is mine or do i have any?

The sun no weeps, I sing.
Myself, I find, thick of leaves
I carry, it sings no longer green.

Winged fire sword ablaze,
use I, leaves dry. Outstretched,
brown, my arms, fail to sky

afire. Feet my burns, I no walk longer.
Stiff, I root my tree to flower.
Fragrant white flowers, settle.

Pray I to you, of hope I joy.
Bring life to water, Frame of sky
Bring, Abba, Father.

(Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal - February 1, 2011)
I...I think of it as a prayer. Read it line by line, each line a pause at the end.
*Title renamed from 'Finding Eden' to' Garden: Eviction'
looking at you is like
looking at a car crash
because although it is over
the damage has been done
and i will never unsee you

looking at you is like
looking at a wildfire
it is uncontrolled and blazing
and the longer you stare at it
the more beautifully encapsulating it becomes.
Qweyku Aug 2018
This world is full of dreams
many are lost, found
& salvaged by others.

Some fade, starved of thirst;
ghosts haunting minds’ mirage.

But, there are those rare sparks;
shorn flashes of brilliance,
blazing through self-existence.

Yes. Our world full of dreams.


            
              © Qwey.ku
Next page