"cherishing" poems
I'm explaining to the people of the world
What Fate of Ten stands for
And my persistent craving for books
Bur does it look as if they understand?
No
They don't
And that's the problem
Of the dark world I'm finding myself in
And that's the problem
Of a world full of people that doesn't read
Something I thought would've
Changed
When the things named 'e-books' arrived
Because everyone was crazy
That our world turned 'technological advanced'
And everyone turned a blind eye
From the comforts of the past
There was always this people
That said
'Technology will make your life so much better'
But now I've come to believe that
We act as if we're worshiping it
And cherishing the fact that
'Our life's made easier'
But rather
We are blinded
By the
Imminent
Torture
Of the
Future
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 4:02 AM UTC
Every blue patch on the sky keeps an eye,
cherishing clouds dancing, hovering over.
The songs of deep blue ride the heady air,
only to be stunned, all of a sudden,
at the first sight—
sung down on a perfectly placed mural.
The Queen of Sheba tiptoes this way;
King Solomon leans to the ground,
only to find seas of silent blooms
musing, dipping in sun-kissed dews—
on gently tilted roses that will not fall,
not from this picture-perfect, navel-high!
Velvety, the rose rises from the ground;
the forever-green Earth hangs low,
in the dew on the rose that will not fall.
Blossoming, eyeing an acute high,
evermore hopeful to scale upward,
toward the faraway, awaiting heaven's pool.
There, the spotlight does not move—
neither north nor south, nor up nor down—
until Queen Fathima, the Queen of Heaven,
steps on the "as above, so below" slope.
There, the newly resurrected Earth will be primed,
its minted atoms vibrating beyond bounds,
rising, for the first time, atop the navel-high.
Perfectly wrapped, the atom's circle finally turns on—
the stepping stone that holds no pi-decimal hole.
Pure Scientia hangs on the door of Paradise,
awaiting the numerically perfect Queen Fathima to step.
God willing, she will work in beauty:
the most sought-after, perfect works of art—
the lost masterpiece, not in translation,
but hidden within the pi-decimal abyss of Earth's depth.
Lo, the gleaning Sleeping Beauty peeps,
trailing the role model Queen.
Fathima—the first woman to enter Paradise—
walks the walk: perfect, straight, numerically precise.
As if she always knew, back from the Earth,
of the murals ahead, hanging on Paradise’s wall,
mathematically exact!
Mirrors of imagination, new wonders on Heaven’s way,
etched in the murals at the golden section, navel-high.
She zooms past the ever-spinning atom’s perfect span,
cemented at the entrance of Paradise.
Yet leaves no footprint—
for she never did, even on the sublunary Earth.
A new wonder blooms in the classic old eyes:
oh, Pi, still irrational, still pondering,
at the measured, eternal navel-high!
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
in complete melodies
the frequencies i hear
can not be contained by anything
love is drifting through the hills
and you are home to its trills
she dreams of light, the fire bright
and full of crystal skulls and eyeballs
dozens of monuments are built
just to mark the moments
when we could have said i'm sorry
merge with the mountains
find the source of fountains
shine the diamond compass
if that's what you are really here for
broken dams are our business
feed the swans their luminescent lunch-boxes
duck for cover, its a wonder that we are all together here
that's clearly redundant
the tendency to dream
is the most important human faculty
its a tragedy that the lack of nuclear power
showers the atomic world in rainbows
as forlorn teenagers in the ice-age of America
govern our equipment from their parent's basements
and carouse with comfort upon chairs, cushions and couches
a million times the victory
a million miles of rope to weave
a million are the paths to god
and a million more are the souls
who've learned to cope with tragedy
i come cherishing and bearing gifts
figures of speech are my playthings
i am furniture remodeled daily
and intuitively placed around your home
the finer things in life are free
so see me there upon your television set
i am electromagnetic static
within the black and white of advertisements
i am figures of forgotten speech
so record the unwatched programs
in your mind’s virtual memory
the hard drive of work and play
creates hundreds of new retirees each day
hundreds of haunted expatriates
knuckle-headed people
that couldn't tread lightly
even if they wanted to
so will you please untie me
and remove these binds and chains
it's time to free the lover from the psyche
for that is all she wrote
i am a silent p
i am a violet apogee
i am a cosmic minority
i am a message in your tea leaves
but if you stand too long in my shoes
you’ll likely drown in solitude
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 2:34 PM UTC
Breathing in your alluring scent
Enjoying the ride, as the wheels go round
Cherishing the times we have spent
Smiling to our 'question', an answer we have found
This romantic attraction
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Having simple meals together
Indulging in chucklesome little talks
Laughing cheekily, we teased each other
Ambling along the smooth sidewalks
This deep affection
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Fulfilling your heart's desire
Appreciating your genuine kindness
Seeing you smile from ear to ear
Bringing back the long lost happiness
This sweet satisfaction
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Cuddling in your loving arms
Holding back my tears
Embracing me with your hidden charms
Taking away all my fears
This perfect expression
So beautiful, truly spellbinding
An intimate connection...
That's what we are sharing
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 3:41 PM UTC
You are a sunset to me
With beauty emanating beyond my sight
And once you leave, the evening comes
Wrapping me in the depths of the night
I cannot do anything to stop you from setting
Nor bring you back once you leave
So I take every chance to see you
Cherishing the moments I could never retrieve
Sometimes I stare out the window
Looking at the orange sky
Wondering what makes a sunset so breathtaking
I guess I will never know why
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
Defeating the power of pain by resilience,
and defining themselves
by the number of times they
get back up ,
they are making a head towards
cherishing the every moment
they still have in their own life.
Mistaken for being numb,
They not even feel
the intensity of pain
that comes with life,
Socially detached ,
they feel nothing .
Oh but they do feel something ,
In fact they feel everything,
The feeling of loss ,
disappointments and regrets
with heavy heart .
But the power of resilience
does not let their pain to define them ,
Instead it defines their tenacity and strength !
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 8:12 AM UTC
You and I
A song that started clumsily, mid-stumble, then fell into a beautiful flurry of violins playing lithe.
It’s a Shakespearean epic draped in a cheap suit of modern conjectures that caught my eye.
You and I
It’s climbing up a mountain-side, daring & tempestuous -cherishing every moment, not just the peak, but the hike.
Even as you’re pushing so hard its hurts to breathe, the air so thin your gasps are overlapping fighting for air– you’ll die if you quit, having the time of your life.
You and I
Seeing sheet-music for your favorite tune, as an illiterate fool, but somehow feeling the rhythm and time.
It’s enticing & startling, it’s the smell of privet-hedge and pine –familiar, refreshing, & divine.
It’s you and I.
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
When I met you first , N i saw your cherishing smile … My heart Whispered to me that ,,
You are mine …
Every morning when the sun shines , it remind me
Your presence because,,
You are mine…
The good time we share , the promises we made , the stories we created , even a book is not enough for you to describe, bcz
You are mine…
The day I need you most , n you come , hold my hand and made me realise that,
whatever the situation will come but ,
You are mine…
I want you for my whole life , you are the one who know me more than anyone in this sphere,
It’s a relationship that i promise to you i never betray , want to hear the same with your so pure n melodious voice,.
Just get me a promise that,,,
You are forever mine…
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 3:57 AM UTC
*I have cut my feet
while walking with you,
I have lost all my sleep
while staying awake with you
but my friend, for you
all these are just sweet honeydew
which I will drink & sink my pain into,
as these precious moments
are only for few!*
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 6:15 AM UTC
By the music and it's heavenly way into a human's soul, through the harmony of the instruments
The rhythmic sound of music has the power to fill one's heart with a certain feeling that is endless
As all the notes come together, being played accompanied by the soft tune of her voice, it sank into my heart, reflected it, cherishing, wishing in bliss that such beauty, never should end
Coming in a clear pattern which leads me to ask;
Where shall it lead to, or where does this end, alike the night, my
hopes are for this to be undawning, so that it can fill me with joy.
Overflowing with emotions, more than I am able to convey with
words or any fitting expression, my eyes shed tears, of grief.
What is it that may has touched my spirit, is it the sound, or are
the instruments responsible for this sudden heartache ?
Of course, unable to find an answer, I consume the music until the
very last note has been played and the prayer which has been sung
comes to its border, its final point where it has no meaning to continue.
~ Umi
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 10:52 AM UTC
Do you see her
oh skies,
..where ever she may be,
these blessed fingers; hold fast,
swiftly they bring my curse;
once cherishing they're touch,
here they rip your heart from afar..
they run through your hair,
you've no need for a brush,
they divert your attention,
the moonlight used to
bring me news of
your brilliant reflections,
distance has loosened my grip
now im left to look above,
clouds....
darkness their covering;
i am all but left to play charades...
(...I wait for those darks clouds to one day turn white again...)
....
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
I know you will never be mine,
But still,
I close my eyes,
And dream about how beautiful it would be,
If our two souls become one,
In my dream,
The world seems to pause,
And everything feels right,
I dream about us walking hand in hand,
Sharing all our secrets under the stars,
And laughing without a care in the world,
Painting this master piece of a love so pure yet so tender,
But every dream is met with reality and I feel it tugging at my sleeve,
Reality kicks in reminding me of the boundaries that separate us,
So I try so hard to hold to these dreams,
Cherishing them as precious what ifs,
Knowing that some stories are meant to never be told,
And some loves are meant to linger,
In the silent corners of our hearts,
But how impossible it may seem,
I keep hoping that someday my dreams can come true.
May 29, 2024
May 29, 2024 at 12:18 AM UTC
some times I believe,
not think,
but believe,
that there are indeed little figures in the grass,
brushing my ankles with tickles and laughs
sometimes in mid of velvet black,
can see them waving their six fingered hands
in front of the lights across the bay,
for the twinkles are different, their winkles,
semaphoric, euphoric, random but patterned
every know and every then,
could they be inside me,
inciting riots, sugar sharp pains,
in places where pain has no place purposed,
feel them lifting my-back-of-the-neck hairs,
at scary movies, making an ear itchy, why?
these elusives
are fairie godmothers,
personal angels,
hobgoblins,
shoulder sitters,
amusing muses
ear whisperers,
of new poem titles
sock stealers,
shoelace knoters,
giggling self-amusers,
ever present, ever invisible,
hat hiders, wet spot slider installers
you say you know them too?
cousins perhaps, for my elusives,
could not be here and there,
for they are:
as I write,
as I speak,
this very second
fluttering my eyelids,
those rascals,
to lay me down to sleep,
in cherishing tenderness me to keep
for they know too well,
sleep,
is an elusive of a different kind,
like peace of mind,
but they do their best,
to distract me unto rest
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
In my late teens I would wonder
What is The Purpose of Life?
What should I Value?
What is truly Good?
But now at sixty six it seems so clear:
Life per se is what matters.
The wonderment
Of selves
That know they are selves.
Of sentience married with intelligence.
The miracle we call Life.
At nineteen I said
That the First Priority
Was Survival.
I wrote a thing called “The Bedrock”
To grow this theme.
And what was it that had to survive?
It was living beings
Nurtured by Mother Nature.
I am a “Lifist”
If you will:
Cherishing all that lives.
Humanist Plus
And more than Conservation.
Health and Wellbeing
For The Common Good.
A touch of Socialism
And Equal “Opps”.
I coined the word “Positivism”
To sum it all up.
Is this all poetry?
Maybe not.
But the greatest poem lies all around us:
The very world and universe
In which we live.
Paul Butters
© PB 18\2\2019.
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 5:09 AM UTC
Looking pigeons and free wishes
Clouds are wondering with chirping kisses
Looking thou art of sweet dreams!
Flawless garden and green eyes like icecream…
Oh, my Rainy!
Where shall I live, tell me thee
Oh, pure love! Calls me!
Truly in my dream
I feel free…
I don’t wake up
Because I will be in your dreams
Sailing across rivers and oceans…
To meet thee!
Infinitely till the silver lines shine your way and
make your happy forever as your stay!
Dark the wind and oceans breezes
Dark the sea and the clouds freezes
Everything I feel sometimes lament
Under the real drops of fearful tears…
Sometimes I change my gear
And listen to you in my heart
You’re more than a divine art
…
So don’t tell me to wake up
Don’t wake me up Dear
Let me live just a few more years…
Till I depart elsewhere in the vast universe
Kiss me softly
And become my free verse…
Let the vice versa happens in streams of dreams!
Oh my Rainy
Become my dream!
And I will pursue your dream
Under the dream…
We will cascade new love…
Let’s meet in inception…
With the speed of light, we will thrill our passion
Cherishing each other enthusiasm
.
..
…..
……..
…………
……………..
……..
…
.
Like waves…
We will wake…
Sin cosine
Oh my Rainy
If you wish
We will one day
transform imagination
Believe me
Till I live in your dreams
Under the impression of imagination
We will spark a new world
I guarantee
and dancing snow
Will be a new hut of enthusiasm
Supernatural earth…
Supernatural moon…
Under the supernatural universe…
We will live purely in the heart to heart natural..
Oh, my Rainy!
Come when the rain stops
Under the digital circuits
We will flip flop
Stop the watch…
With eyes to eyes…
We will dream more!
Amore and Amore!
Oh, my Rainy!
We will wish together…
And the clouds of love will remain all years…
Till we reach the next version of dreams!
We will live more than together…
Will you come in the dreams of my dreams?
If I truly wish in my wishes
Looking glass and mirror of the streams!
Oh, my Rainy!
Brew my heart
And drink it!
Brew my heart
Drink it!
Let me be yours completely
I am sincere truly
Cheers!
Oh, my Rainy!
Cheers!!
Oh, my Rainy!
Cheers!!!
**** me softly!
**** me softly!
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
Candle lights and a day long sigh
Gray evening tea resting by
the journal
which's last page I thought I'd pen today;
But I can't seem to narrate,
today's unfolding
about how the world I knew
Put off it’s last enchanting shred;
And I knew then
I needed a merciful blackout
before the ink of my pen
starts to fade by my fresh tears;
But I never knew when
my hands stopped to listen
And now, pieces of my favourite teacup
on the mosaic,
mirrored my heart, precisely broken;
But its quite strange,
how after seething fury and wounded heart
i still got up ,
buried my face in linen covered pillows
as this sudden tiredness consumed my limbs,
Maybe Lord of the heavens had mercy on me
and granted me this sudden dreamy trance
And made my heart do witchcraft, so intense,
It hypnotised me to immerse myself in the indulgence
of cherishing the unlived memory yet again;
Jun 15, 2022
Jun 15, 2022 at 6:53 AM UTC
Creating
that fallacious intimacy
wrapped
arm around arm
with a nameless
body.
It's easy to get
temporary satisfaction
from it.
Even though
you're chilled
and hollow inside.
The want
of not being lonely
can be too strong.
Keeping up
the exhausting task
of costant contact.
Never really
developing
a bond deeper
than physical sedation
can tire out.
It will ash away
as soon as you move
an inch
in that position
which is holding
unstably present.
Distance
would be the ruiner
of that
shallow fantasy.
But...
to be hundreds
of miles and moments
away from someone.
To be
alone and removed
from the one
who you have
a real, unrelenting
connection with.
To know
you are singular
in that very moment
but not unsupported.
Having them
somewhere you're not,
holding onto your
spiritual thread.
To achieve real
intimate foundation
in knowing the body
doesn't have to tie you
together.
That's an ember that,
when set to breathe,
engulfs you both.
Understanding
and feeling comfort
that when surrounded
by faces
and being unknown to them
is alright.
Since
that person
who lingers in your mind
Is a whisper
off your lips
and is there
in that place you
left them.
They've penetrated inside
that fortress of caution
and self-preservation and
they get you.
They are there,
hidden
and carried with you.
With their hands
cradling and cherishing
your heart
like the treasure
it is.
The enormous responsibility.
To be
the keeper of
warmth and familiarity
and home.
Even though
being separated
from one another
you are reminded of what
exists between you.
By
concentrating and honing
in on the weight
which lives
there.
That love
and loyalty
and equal respected commitment
to take care of what
the other is given.
The total
vulnerable
surrender of
yourself.
That is something
worth wanting.
That is something
to daydream for.
That...
is what we all
crave.
© NDHK
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 1:10 PM UTC
there is nothing quite like
the first bite of a carrot
grown in your own backyard
or the second bite…
or the third…
the first bite is the ecstasy one would find
in wholesomeness
a shock, really
of sweet paradise
from winter wind upon your cheeks in solitude
from petting a wild rabbit with its permission
an unusual high
a remarkable instant
the second bite is deeper
it is more familiar and significant
like the hug you’d give your lover at the airport
like baking cookies with your little cousins on Christmas Eve
when your own spirit is crowned
king or queen
but with an equality like the trees in the forest
rather than a superiority like the ***** in the castle
the third, fourth, fifth
(depending on how big your carrot is)
are mere appreciation and wonder
of life
of your life
cherishing salubrity, company, solace
and it seems when you’re done,
you’re not hungry anymore
and if you are,
all you want is another carrot.
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 9:01 PM UTC
It pains me to see
You in the arms of another
To see you bear happiness
in the comfort of your lover
If I could replace every moment
with a moment to be with you
Cherishing every second
A moment sweet and true
But in sorrow, they turned to memories
So Colorless and so pale
Your photograph, my only remedy
Still, my heart becomes frail
Oh, to see you again!
Immense joy it would bring.
Renewed in every moment
To each moment I would cling
But it still pains to see you
For me knowing the fact
You're still in the arms of another
With whom you made a pact
And it pains me to know
that I am a witness
of the love that was before me
and your lover's sweet caress
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
i come cherishing and bearing gifts
figures of speech are my playthings
like furniture i am remodeled daily
and intuitively placed around your home
the finer things in life are free
so see me there upon your TV screen
i am electromagnetic static
that illuminates your blankets
and i am the black and white of advertisements
i am figures of forgotten speech
so record the unwatched programs
in your mind’s virtual memory
the hard drive of work and play
creates hundreds of new retirees each day
hundreds of haunted expatriates
knuckle-headed people
that couldn't tread lightly
even if they wanted to
so will you please untie me
and remove these binds and chains
it's time to free the lover from the psyche
for that is all she ever wrote
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
Finding solace
tears to my eyes
joy
sorrow
in something so simple
as a cello or violin
emotions they hurt
but are so lovely
feeling, cherishing each one
for it means I am alive
overcome by it
whispering of trees
a smile
sweet dreams
every sight and sound
screaming its own emotion
hey you!
yes you
I am alive
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 11:35 AM UTC
I have been asked of how it may feel to be an Angel,
As I have been created from the soil I do not know,
But verily, I do believe it must be a life without woe
Praying would be amongst the greatest things
With innocence and all its blessings
Praising, chanting in delight, not disobeying
Only the Lord's pleasure they are displaying
They do not know of such as envy
They do not know of such as spite
They are happy, praising him with all his might
Cherishing each word which has been said (By God)
They would happily face death without being afraid,
As long as God is pleased with them,
Righteous, brilliant and with multiple wings
They don't need rest, they serve the king of the kings!
Without having made one single sin,
Shining from being made from light, deep within
Oh how much I wish I could be amongst those...
Take a look at the angels who carry the throne
Not moving an inch, not speaking a tone,
Yet they are proud, yet they wear a smile
Why ? Because it isn't their style, to be displeased with his decree
~ Umi
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 5:11 PM UTC
sand
cherry blossom
vintage clothing
poem
grass...
You Are These, My Love.
like a fairy
is like a dark-eyed Junco, twitter-pated in snowfall apocalypse
like a painter's palette, engrossed in the notion
of gone from me. like chocolate. a sun down
feathering our bed.
like water and thunder
blasting sand
through the blossom
of my cherished -
cherishing.
a
vintage
ache
clothing the naked risk
of my honest poesy.
like the grass roots of joy
fairly gaming the
opaque eye -
of some rara avis-
blinking outside Caravaggio
palette...
a
deep cocoa
of divine waters,
that flood the ludicrous
of your charms
like austerity
is plush
our heart's are vintage clothing
and we must.
what's a metaphor like ? do you simile -
the way I am a valentine ?
or do you
love
me
?
deluge
[ ? ]
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
When I was younger my mom had a cape.
I used to believe she was some superhero that came and saved us whenever we needed.
And I can’t tell you how many times she came to my rescue.
Through scraped knees, broken hearts, blistered fingers and life changing conflicts, she was there holding out her hand.
I used to think my mother owned the world.
She had a way to make it seem like it stopped spinning when she tucked us in at night.
Like we were the only things that mattered when the moon fell.
She battled Love, proper balance and belonging for years. But I couldn’t be more appreciative that we were the motive behind her struggles.
She was a wrecking ball labeled with dedication.
Destroying buildings full of poverty and mental *******
And she even helped clean up the debris.
I’ve never seen anyone stand so tall after being knocked down so many times. It makes me feel weightless in knowing I have such a gravity shifting role model.
So this Christmas I won’t wish for anything for myself.
I won’t ask for anything to help sort out my troubled thoughts or materialistic struggles.
And I certainly won’t entail anything that strays from you being the subject matter of today.
All I do ask is that you Love yourself as much as I Love you.
You are the strongest, most intelligent and most inspiring woman I will ever know and I’m so lucky to be able to call you my mother.
I am forever cherishing you bringing me into this world and raising me the way you have. I take lessons from you daily and I’ve ended up more than fine.
Thank you, for being you.
I Love you, mom.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
You help me and I'll help you
That's what best friends do
We help eachother on homework, love, and problems
You need some advice to talk to that guy
I'll give you some cute pick-up lines
Problems with your mom
Don't worry I'll be your shoulder to lay your head on (I kinda am since you make fun of my height -.-)
If I'm stuck in one of my situations
I know I can count on you to save me from them
If I'm having a bad day and is bogus to everyone including you
Some how you always meet me at my locker after school to say goodbye
I question sometimes on how you're able to put up with me
I guess this is a friendship worth cherishing for a life time
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC