"cedes" poems
"Poetry is confession, obsession, reflection.
Empathic minds, valentines, hope divined.
It's a kiss, whispered sweetly" (2)
who needs challenges, commissions.
kicks~in~le butte~
when heaven heaves rains, one downs tall orders in
short shot glass verses, which glossed over at its
first communion(cation,
come back
months later
to subtract - another
poem from where it lay dormant
on the doormat
of my sub~sub~terranes
of my diluted subconscious au natured dry & rugged terrain
a favored poet,
a secretive admirer,
whoa~whose~her truthful name, I've yet to uncover,
but whose one true soul inspires me repeatedly,
ana~lyrically licks me into
dredging from me
un begrudgingly
and yet,
another love poem,
she herself wrote when elixiring (commentating (3))
'pon one of mine,
a long long time ago
Alas! Alack!
unnaturally immodest,
one concedes,
when obviously a Super~Woman!-cedes,
seeds in three verses, what I could never unknot
nor uncover
so I requite & requote with
unlabored pleasure
miz patty m's
primary terse verse,
neither secondary & never tertiary,
her absolut perfect mixed drink
defining, summarizing,
the essences of love
*"(Love) Poetry is confession, obsession, reflection.
Empathic minds, valentines, hope divined.
It's a kiss, whispered sweetly"*
I concede, in deed,
and in writing,
I know nothing,
of writing
of only love poetry
and all the great predecessors,
elsewhere lyricized, named and tabulated,
by yet another women, (1)
I will take my weary words elsewhere,
and if
perhaps,
disguised as a woman,
(Natalie, Natasha, Natali
see note below)
perhaps my verbal herbal insides,
my turgid insights,
will be shorter, sweeter,
but never more completer
than those of,
who can syncopate it
in rhyme
and the naming of my
predilection,
by mid~initial,
will give a measuring
of solace, and
a kiss and hug from my mirrored selfie,
having been unsuccessful at
my one chosen endeavor,
only love poetry,
adieu,
I, due,
utter
Nevermore
M>
Sep 2, 2025
Sep 2, 2025 at 3:38 PM UTC
Night equals day equals night;
The march of hours pauses,
poised in tranquility
as the waning season cedes
to its successor -
with each passing day spinning
like a cosmic pirhouette
whirling about the solar axis.
The oracle of autumn
prophecies the coming snow and ice.
So we gather in our grain
and fire up a *** of tea
to share before the hearth.
The solstice descends upon us
as we burrow in with friends and kin.
But even as the frozen ground
crackles beneath our boots,
we trust the ever-whirling earth
to stretch the days once more
and raise spring flowers from their sleep.
October 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
By the end of this poem, those once vibrant
shall slough off in horizons of necrosis.
As I tap out completion,
their summer cedes to countless performances;
actors bow before the closing curtain of Autumn.
The maelstrom of summer-lovers lulls to a murmur
And the great Mevlana’s couplets and Khayyam’s quatrains
Float away on the formations of down-bound geese.
You’ll hear the Doppler shift of devotion’s goodbye
On the whines of the locomotive’s whistle.
By the end of this poem, the thistle fades
from heliotrope to gun metal gray.
The clandestine scent of “once-whens”
Wafts into a future of “now-agains.”
Yet, this new Fall is bittersweet.
Before another ********** of trees,
a red rose blushes in reminiscence.
By this poems end, I’ll be in love
with the chill of an approaching season
wearing the brightest flower in my garden of poetry
One last choke on the rising smoke
as the last painful stanza goes
Into the solemn procession
toward the sacred pyre of leaves.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
this will be an off the chest one,
a long one,
a crazy (and) derisive one for
we
who once were
i
are now foregone.
we sit here
writing -
startled by the addition of
LOUD
music(?) to my library;
not my taste -
pink floyd
leaks through my
head phones from
the coffee shop speakers.
tea scalded tongue,
she did
warn me,
did she...
- a break,
thats where we
find
ourselves and
wondering what will come
of the fu-
tu-
re
furthur out from
now?
we quiet now,
find ourselves
lulled through
into
another plane
of which -
break end.
this year -
bitter winds find
necessitation in
her
fixation -
as last year
as next year,
til time
cedes.
we write with open head
and fluid mental
projection,
a reality
created
from each of ours
and one into
the next;
'our universe is
vast'
some cry,
of course we
know
it is.
tea no longer
scalds
(
to burn
the flesh away
)
as twangy
guitar follows
snappy snare,
tap tap
tip
tap,
blues wail
away.
- - - to take a ****
to take a cigarette
to take a lover - - -
lover missed,
though
so did the
****
currents retain
fluidity.
we're done.
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 6:59 PM UTC
Cada vez que quizás me llamas
me desorganizas la vida.
Cuando ya creía hallar calma
de nuevo el corazón agitas.
Sé que todavía no entiendes
que sin querer causas dolor
porque lo que tú ahora sientes
es incomparable a mi amor.
Pretendes volver amistad
lo que fue profunda pasión,
mas yo aún no puedo cambiar
aquella tierna sensación
que tú persigues separar
de lo que es de cierto el amor,
justo entre mujer y varón.
Tú no cedes, y yo tampoco
tal que así seguirá la vida
y me traerás como loco
cada que me llames o escribas.
Jorge Gómez A.
Jun 22, 2012
Jun 22, 2012 at 7:17 AM UTC
A tale was told to me
Of an angry king of old
Whose kingdom fell to a bitter force,
To an anger he could not hold.
He was said to be an honest man,
Courteous and contrite
But widely known for fits of rage
Causing many to fear his might.
One such fit lingered long,
And the kingdom felt its looming
Like a shadow cast by the king's emotions
With seeds of unrest blooming.
On a stormy night, in the castle chambers
Where the king lied fast asleep,
A visitor came and in the king's chest
He plunged his naked steel deep.
"Why?" The king asked,
His dying voice soft and low.
The visitor answered the king,
His eyes with a somber glow,
"A man who crowns his anger king
Cedes the right to rule his life
And this is how your anger rules,
With the cold edge of a knife."
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
You've made your suffer very clear
In anguish's cutting headlights
You are a fragile deer
Glass organs pop under foot
Your psyche crumbles into dirt
Glass murks reading worse
Than it ever has
It ever has
In this one bedroom den, I'm the wolf
Once I was a scrapyard mongrel
Once you were my wide world
Presently avatar of indifference
You've become a cyclone fence
Every dawn sweet music cedes
Every dusk, must evade sleep
Evade sleep
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 3:44 PM UTC
Bird against the night,
White fingertip against
A negative held up to light.
Whisper, soft by definition,
Work your maledictions
So I have something to react to.
The way you talk it would seem
Those words have been
Asleep for years. I’d
Hardly want you to
Strain- sprain anything.
Spring it on me,
Show the Bruce Lee
Of your larynx. Strike
Me or smite me, bury
Your fist and pronounce
That solar syllable before-
Before the storm cedes.
We’ve all been waiting for
The blue flick, the
Clear blur, the handle
Toward your hand. Spit
It into the light. I don’t
Really care, I just need it out.
Cut around it anymore
And you might inadvertently
Break the clouds. It’s a cheap
Trick but it’s all I ever had
Over you.
Night bloodies the beach.
A moral goes unheard like
An ignored spectator.
Mar 20, 2010
Mar 20, 2010 at 10:04 AM UTC
if this line is last line
know it was a victory lap
rari, 'cedes AMG (ya brazy)
commercial life dream rabies
make fun of commercial rap
still want that mclaren,
yea you starin' baby
uhhh please, you broke
talkin' bout the red cross town limo (OCTran)
'po lika baby momma didn't even know
save me yuh (87 baseline yuh)
808 boom bap clap snap (sound here)
never joke bout straps (round here)
ace in my cap (down here)
never pretend to trap, white as **** (blind seer)
pass the puck without the ruckus
down the range with the shiv stuck us
gotta strong poker face tryna bluff yuss
knock wig back gut stuffin if you rushin us
boy i dust the rust off my metal alloy pen
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 10:35 PM UTC
Coming out of
A nearby hut of mud
A rose bud
Used to mix with
High school
Students’ flood.
On the street
With a bow
Her I used to greet.
Drawing close
And casting an
Affectionate glance
I used to say “Hi”
Often I never
Failed to utter
“Lovely!” “Cute one!” …
In her heart a cherished
Corner to buy.
Though she was shy
Her angelic face
Smiles used to aurify.
When she comes of age
I was sure to propose to her
Though age gap could
Put us asunder
“Does that she too wonder?”
I still ponder.
One sad Saturday morning
A funeral procession
Round the hut
Drew my attention.
To her parents & siblings
And , of course,
To my hidden grief
She opted to be brief
You see
She could not tolerate
“Detained!” on her
Grade 10 certificate.
Vexed
She found it hard
To reflect
A pitch dark night
Will certainly
Cedes place to
A broad day light.
Had she managed that
Dark moment to outgrow,
She could have
Long forgotten her sorrow.
Two decades later
Whenever I pass
By that place
I see her younger brother
With sadness stamped face!
“Suicide why?”
Is it not cruel
Inflicting
A harrowing pain
On those we
Will be survived by!
Is it not selfish
Taking our life
In to our hands
Our corporeal existence
To finish?
If we share our sorrow
Moral prop
From our confidants
We could borrow
This way
What is unbearable today
We may forget tomorrow.
Is it not better taking
The bull by the horn,
Circumventing challenges
To stand shoulder high
While many are born?///
(BY Alem Hailu G/Kristos)
Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 2:35 AM UTC
We bathe
in a different star and its light
One, forever
Our soul
endlessly cedes from Earth into space
and We
eternal
We few
ascend inside of this void bound flame
I offer you my organs
In this unnatural red rust rain
I’ll take this blade I’ll
I’ll take this pain I’ll
Welcome your weakness
with shattering teeth
and a smile
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 1:39 AM UTC
Flowing; not a flicker,
Just pure, flowing light.
Smooth; coming in thicker,
All rife with tranquil might.
Bright, filling up the sky
With tidal waves of glow,
Its dance in thickest night
Awash with graceful flow.
Burning, like a fire,
Pulsing blue and green.
Expanding its empire,
Yet most remains unseen.
Its high tide slowly cedes, at last,
And doesn't stain the sky
As star-strewn night time fields
Enter in the moon's bright eye.
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 10:31 AM UTC
This love is going to **** me,
Each remembered kiss, a slice
to my heart, drawing rivers of words,
to exsanguinate on pages upon pages
of never-ending, ending.
Love bleeds like a sorrowful spring
and yet I keep defending, defending.
Tonight is a night to embrace the lover
to rattle our shells from our ocean's echo
and stir like soul winds wound
in contrapposto... An inhale cedes
In a sigh sweet staccato.
Within the offset sheets of folded rose skin
cured as parchment, pages to be opened
A torch cast shadows on the hearts wall
The rose is illuminated by and all
born from the light of creation.
Impregnated by dew, grape swells to a drop
to burst and roll down the blade
of the vintner's sword into the goblet
O tiny red ocean, O fermentation
release me now, the ransom is paid.
He said I've plucked many roses
from countless bushes
Placed them in fine crystal vases.
But you are a garden
and I, to die,
have been placed within you,
In placeless places.
This one catches flight on another's breeze
so many cross winds to the sea
This one leather, that one caramel
to be brindle, to be softened
Kun faya koon, kun faya koon
Be, so it is to be.
Oh God, I hate this distance,
that keeps my mouth watering.
Watering for Thee.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
Like feathery pearls,
The snowflakes unfurl
And glow as they slowly float down
The snow - winter's seed,
It falls; never cedes
Builds up as it reaches the ground.
This curtain of white
Blows on through the night,
At dawn coming up to our knees.
It falls without sound
Though the wind sometimes howls
And doesn't forget not to cease
May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 6:41 AM UTC
Highways pass beneath the north shore structure moving in all directions
above the ancient growth in-cedes
and falls tangled softly at the foot of her bed
inside the building it is always the dull morning hours
clicking clocks rise and fall moving cars
waiting for the morning to rise
as i entered one morning i swear an arm of fog followed me inside
fluorescent glow smell of cleaner
she's having trouble
keeping food down
walking
her ****** prolapsed again
six years ago was six months
and six months ago was six weeks
a teddy bear too loved falling apart at the seams
the woman next door came into my bedroom last night
she had someone cut the key
i’m startled even though i know this is coming
she used to make blackberry jam in the summer time
and the juice stained everything it touched purple
but that word is foreign to her now
and she told me that she was a nurse on the beach at d-day
and even though i know she wasn't
she knows she was
the tea is nicely guided along its next sip
it's like you always said if you want water make water
if you want tea make tea
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
Touting about
To -democracy-
taking path
Many a psychopath
In the acid-test of integrity
Proves aberrant
Exuding a political stench
To development-and- democracy
Thirsty repugnant.
A phony politician
Has a double face
Which s/he changes from
Place to place
To sweet talk
Citizens sugar-coated
Ideals to embrace.
But monster's follies
Is sure own talks to efface.
Many a political monster
Wrecks his/her share of disaster
When reason to fantasy
Cedes place,
But soon
S/he will be
Stripped of grace.
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 8:53 AM UTC
there is a forecast
brewing over the weeping landscape
thunderous clouds pound the earth
and bruised the cerulean sky
into purple emphasis of pain
the electricity rages
and cracks the horizon
the rain pelts in a single exhale
as I ran away
wait until the affection cedes
then as the storm ascends
pump your arms
pull your lip over your teeth
shut your eyes tight tight tight
as the forecast will rage tonight
yes it will, it will rage
upon the terrains of your chest
that inner specialness
don't stop running,
run run run run
don't worry about the mascara
or the ends of your shirt
dig your fingernails
into the betrayed flesh
of your palms
run run run run
the storm raging upon you
don't let it catch you
never turn back
what the hell were you doing there
you know you are a ******
a creep, an unlabeled something
a someone with no one
don't worry about your shoes
they fall, they always fall
keep your head down
and run as fast as you can
bury the keys to your gates
drop it in a well
right now all you have to do
is to protect yourself
from those anguished memories
the almost encounters and doubts
the insecurities and fragmented hopes
keep my head down
right now,
just escape
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
waking up to birdsong
is lovely
but not always desired
yet our feathered friends
don’t care whether we
suffer from last night’s fun&games
or lay awake with troubles on our minds
or babies crying
they chirp their heart out
at the crack of dawn
to greet the still grey silhouette
of the day
soon to be cast in colorful relief
when light comes back again
and darkness cedes
they make us open our eyes
revealing to our sleepy gaze
half-hidden still
under heavy lids
the beauty of the earth
an awesome universe
and make us vaguely wonder
about the mysteries of our lives
* * *
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
Everything cedes to obscurity
eventually.
All the greats of history
will fade in the fading
of memory.
I'm wondering why
are we here just to live
only to die?
That's not quite true
because I know
that you and I
will never die
abstract?
possibly.
Time meets space
and your face is
unchanging,
I
persevere
and it is clear
that we are points on the compass
and true North becomes your
warm caress in the darkness.
A princess and her suitor
as long as shooting stars scoot by
we will never die.
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 12:26 PM UTC
The bistred day has fallen still,
A darkened mead hangs overhead;
The hush within the evening chill
Chants now the yore is gone to bed.
A gently breeze steals from the west
Cool along the shadowed lanes;
The sunburned broil, now at rest,
Its warmth has gone, though still remains.
The cold night air stands all alone
Anon the past is gone to sleep;
Daytime secrets tossed and blown,
The faithful night for ere to keep.
Secrets that the breeze fears speak,
Winnowing in the night-time swell;
Brushing eastward 'gainst your cheek
The whispered wind mayn't kiss-n-tell.
Evensong is served this eve
All around the moonlit shrine;
Absolution cedes when you believe,
The cool night air is sweet as wine.
Drink your fill in solemn thought,
Let your mind escape within;
Cleanse your conscience, ever fraught,
Save your soul! ~ confess your sin!
Here beneath a cloudless sky
You're not alone ~ you seldom are;
Within the dim nocturnals fly
As someone watches from afar.
So, mediate, your faith elate,
Ruminate, and yet beware;
Intoxicate your mindless state,
Drinking in the cool night air.
Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 11:05 AM UTC
(Incongruous as it may be
To those I reach with words o'er seas)
I'm yawning, though your day is dawning.
To awaiting slumber, cedes my weary shell.
But Insomnia awaits, and she, the unforgiving mistress of my mind, beckons me AWAKE!
So I write another line.
No, no, no.
Heavy lidded eyes remind me of the wiser course.
The shroud of fatigue covers me with a gentle ripple and I am lulled once more. From this distant shore I bid you,
Goodnight.
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 9:22 AM UTC
How many hero's/heroines
sacrificed and left too die
all the pain and suffering
who and what can qualify?
Stumbling over the distractions ahead
Craving for more, salivating to be fed
Improper desire for lust and love
Just as free as a flying white dove
We'll move past the bodies
abdications, cedes, and waives
saving, craving, all sensations
just trying to be
brave
But for not to be seen
Covered in red
From the human remains
The lost
The hero’s
The blood
Of the dead
Things that were
and were not
said
Still hearing the silent screams
The nightmares, the sweats
The constant reminder
The flashbacks
No way to forget, it seems
the scars the blood, and everything
like cracks and the unsealed seams
reality of, Avenger teams
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 8:10 AM UTC
Eyes, like estuaries,
droplets carry our weary emotions,
into a sea,
where needing cedes its frustrations,
the turbulent I,
let me run dry.
Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 9:37 PM UTC
He looks upon his beloved creation
invariable, inevitable self-destruction
a cycle of vainness and nihility.
He makes no mistakes,
no shots missed when
none are taken.
and on the eighth day,
He sighs...
Breathing life into a world
that cedes purely to death.
Nov 26, 2024
Nov 26, 2024 at 12:29 PM UTC