"blazingly" poems
Feminity for me
was discovering you
when I took you for a ride
on my bajaj discover
Charming for me
was talking to you
when you would call me
and I would call you
and we would talk
till 3:00am in the morning
Love for me is you
when I get blazingly angry
almost raging like a mad bull
and you calm me down
with your patience and grace
~ avijeet musafir das
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 5:50 AM UTC
I want to be a writer.
I want to be a filmmaker.
I want to be invincible.
I want to see it all.
I want to look into your eyes and see something completely unexpected.
I want to dig my fingers through the dirt and discover some ancient secret.
I want to be famous.
I want to be completely unknown.
I want to be seen by you. Really seen.
I want to run my fingers across every inch of your naked body.
I want to run through every hill and valley.
I want to learn to live with the pain and in turn live with unfathomable grace.
I want to forgive.
I want to be forgiven.
I want to move forward with confidence and faith in all the uncertainty.
I want to look into the mirror and be at peace with what I see looking back at me.
I want to learn to live in the present.
I want to...
I want to take all these wants and forget them. I want to grab them and crush them with my bare hands. Let them ooze between my fingers and drip into a puddle on the cracked sidewalk. I want to watch these wants evaporate in the blazingly bright morning sun. Follow the frail ribbons of steam until they become undefined and indistinguishable from the puffs of white moving across the everything.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 8:52 PM UTC
Bright horizons rise up
Over the broad, soothing,
Pixelated mountains.
A parse in the code wakes
And shivers under the
Blazingly cold sun.
Drifting clouds, silvered with
Pixels, flowing like a
River of neon lights.
The data streams above,
Dreamy and nostalgic,
Like quiet afternoons
Inside, listening to the
Cool, pattering rain tap
Gently at the window.
Dark clouds outside, stirring
With a roll of thunder,
And a screen, the music
Chimes gently in your mind.
Hums, chords, thrums, and a quiet,
Beckoning warmth, waving
Back through the pixel clouds
Under the pixel sun.
The colours blend with
The sweet taste of cola.
Salty crisps, shaken, bagged
And popped open at lunch.
Fresh tuna sandwiches,
The click of a cassette tape.
Unwrapped magazines.
Old smells mingle on your
Cool tongue. Lavender oil,
Peppermints in Winter,
Strawberries and cream. You
Feel the pixels in your
Pockets, like loose change.
Those soft chimes return still
To the old windowsill
In the light breeze. Each leaf
Its own story, washed in
Streams of pixels, flowing
Timid through the sky.
A bird tweets. The dreams stir
And fade into the clouds.
Softly lit, glowing sun,
Bathed in warm nostalgia.
Nobody really goes
To Earth, anymore.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 2:57 AM UTC
It was early sunday morning
The sun was shining blazingly in the sky
As I saw you passing by
You gave me butterflies, I won’t lie
Your impeccable innate beauty and your courteous smile made me shy
After a while, by chance
We swapped a glance
I could neither think nor blink
But just wonder, how pretty you glimpsed in pink!
Aug 8, 2020
Aug 8, 2020 at 10:37 AM UTC
In a beautiful land,
Where there is meant to be verdant plains,
Anointed with blossoming bird cherries and daisies,
Remarkably fertile and lush,
Tainted with venom stains,
Leaving her soil sterile and depleted.
Beyond the plethora of satin valleys,
Below the large mound,
Lies a lithe serpent,
Supinely resting above two boulders,
Plaguing what should be a tenderly elegant land.
Legends speak of a panacea,
In the form of a magical elixir,
Created by a majestic fairy,
Powerful enough to make the rocky terrain,
Morph into a gentle and fecund prairie.
Prayers to the Goddesses are chanted,
Yet no answers are given,
No growth has been noticed,
From the hundreds of seeds that have been planted.
The inhabitants of the land,
Grow jaded,
As the beauty of the area has faded,
So the potion of a witch is implemented,
As the words are muttered of ancient spells,
To save the land where the serpent dwells.
The rough and jagged edges begin,
To transform into softness and beautiful curves,
And it seems the land has been stripped of its sin,
Yet the Spell could not vanquish the serpent,
The acrid taste of venom lingers,
Disgracing the sacred valley.
The land's beauty returns,
Exuding an alluring aroma,
Enticing the humans to once again reside,
Within her realm,
As eye-opening conviction blazingly burns,
But no potion is artful enough,
To purge the prairie of the serpent's presence,
Nor its pride!
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
Windy is the day and cordial are clouds
Drifting through the sky in the month of May
The sun hides behind the dark shroud
Blazingly hot been the noon but as
Crawls it away the blues of heaven
Dimmed and wind plays like a carefree lass
Soft summer skies send their showers
****** the rain-drops dance and drizzle
Pitter patter, plip plop songs of the hour
Freshen the heavens awash all dust and heat
Soon the sun gold-drenched smiles and winks
Gentle like a kiss the air blows nippy and sweet
Me with myself swaying with summer zephyr
Sleepy thoughts drift away with woolly packs
Inner desires replenished by Mother Nature
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
Compared to the universe full of stardust,
How small the spark is that lights a fire?
That keeps me up at night, that keeps us
Alive,
Keeps us burning bright.
Kindling for a kinship, a friendship, a bond more
Infinitesimal than we are
Little ants,
More chemical, more toxic in smaller doses,
More blazingly erratic,
More universal than the stardust
That is us.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
•
*Your loving embrace,
Is the beatific sunshine,
That gleam blazingly,
After lachrymose dark times,
You've given me hope.
It is my refuge,
In moments of turbulence,
That gives me console,
When I tremble in great fear,
Your embrace provides safety.
It's a euphony,
A sweet calming resonance,
That wraps all over,
Caressing my soul with bliss,
Dressing me with perfect peace.
It's crème de la crème,
Lullaby for my slumber,
Warmth when I shiver,
A guidance to my lost trail,
Pure intimacy of love.*
with love <3
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 8:14 AM UTC
and i say the sun is callous
for nothing ever shall be
so
beautiful
as the delicate fronds splayed unerringly
before my hands. and i do place my vestige
in its thrall and as it is i am nothing compared
to the softness of its belly. so lay inlaid with
rouge splendor and indelible.
beneath and
under and my tongue
is the sprouted clavicles
an orchard of pleasure in verdance
blazingly dim in the moon puddles
writhing the muscles of implacable sensation. go to the tiny hall
and whisper
with Venus. she is grace and smooth and the sea muttering
with the loose wind. fashioned from naked blood.
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 11:30 AM UTC
My birth was an infinite hazard slowly
suddenly sparked by a singularity, dense,
blazingly intense, warm womb of everything
to be to become, pitch black smaller than a pea
induced to expand, quantum fluctuations,
give to acquire space, to grow, foreshadow my
future existence, forbearing the libertine conduct
of particles wooing, playing games of attraction
abiding by laws elegantly unwritten, striving
to unite yet at moments repelled, by forces
unfathomable, a dynamic courtship unaware,
unconscious drive of conscienceless creations.
When, an endless labour of spinning behaviour
engenders rarity, beguiling perfection, where,
a molten sphere dances around a fiery young star
at a demure distance to lose heat and hoard
water, become a sphere of stone, a cosmic
delivery room yielding conceptions, billions of species
born, lived and extinguished, primordial ancestors
evolving I was brought into existence. Who am I?
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 6:48 AM UTC
There are moments.
Moments for those of us who care to look.
moments where
a piece of light hits a tree in a way
that
makes
you
realize
everything is going to be ok.
that
everything is in its right place.
There are times in life
when a torn leaf
scraping against the moon spit concrete
powered by nothing but the invisible breeze
can
give
you
hope
that
tomorrow will be blazingly bright.
Hope that someone else will see and hear these tiny things
and know in their bones what they are:
they are god.
plain
and
simple.
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
Time was when
the glorious sun
was blazingly
hovering over
our horizon,
shooting harvest
in booming guns
into
the festive skies,
roaring
ferocious thunder
into
the clapping seas
of
beatific glory.
Time was when
ballards
of wailing virgins
drenched us with
ravishing love,
with heaven choruses
in unison and earth
felicitating in
revelvery
Now the sky is sky dry
Wet sky come to dry
away this dry dry sky
Our hope and help
will not be forlorn as
we drive through hail
and snow, halcyon
bountiful days of
harvest'll come from
our Helper, the LORD.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 9:24 PM UTC
I've always loved the sunset
Just as I've always loved the day we first met
It could have been nicer
If we would be able to spend time with each other
I would not mind if the universe conspires
To make us cross our paths again and make me feel blazingly, once again inspired
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 6:02 AM UTC