Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"coalescing" poems
The shivering eyeglasses lazily coating the ground Break way to the budding of the season. To reincarnate is to live the anomaly, The evergreen boughs bend in the wind. Coalescing crystals form dew on our morn To leave a fresh taste, on lips, on tongue. The time is imminent, but the dawn is young, My white Orchid, born to the sun. Simply, optically, it's to weak to touch Unworthy digits, to blind to see. My scarlet levees, to right to feel. The ivory blossom, to right to be real. Under the canopies, the shimmering outline Moves closer until the mirror cracks And our reflections are polymorphicly one, Our hearts still polyamorously two. I yearn to dream of lucid lavender, The aroma surrounds the dream, still dreamed The scent so real, or so it seemed Encapsulating this moment in amber. Until we sleep, until we fly Together. Our wings open to embrace the quilted high. Our mouths embrace to fill the void, Unleash the magic, bathing us in light Bricks and mortar overlap my thoughts But time alone is not a wall. Time alone, it cannot fall And it still ticks with the beat of my pendulum. Oh flower, oh life, vitality aplenty. Your hideousness, a secret untold, Withers to your beauty, yet to unmold. Le voyage fantasme is here for me now. And now the grains slip between my toes. The sandcastles caress the glass of our hour. It's never too late, but always on time, So before the light fades, kiss me and say "I'll sleep tonight, I'll dream of you." Orchid, my Orchid, love, my love I'll dream with you forever.
0
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 7:39 PM UTC
Ballad of the White Orchid
The shivering eyeglasses lazily coating the ground Break way to the budding of the season. To reincarnate is to live the anomaly, The evergreen boughs bend in the wind. Coalescing crystals form dew on our morn To leave a fresh taste, on lips, on tongue. The time is imminent, but the dawn is young, My white Orchid, born to the sun. Simply, optically, it's to weak to touch Unworthy digits, to blind to see. My scarlet levees, to right to feel. The ivory blossom, to right to be real. Under the canopies, the shimmering outline Moves closer until the mirror cracks And our reflections are polymorphicly one, Our hearts still polyamorously two. I yearn to dream of lucid lavender, The aroma surrounds the dream, still dreamed The scent so real, or so it seemed Encapsulating this moment in amber. Until we sleep, until we fly Together. Our wings open to embrace the quilted high. Our mouths embrace to fill the void, Unleash the magic, bathing us in light Bricks and mortar overlap my thoughts But time alone is not a wall. Time alone, it cannot fall And it still ticks with the beat of my pendulum. Oh flower, oh life, vitality aplenty. Your hideousness, a secret untold, Withers to your beauty, yet to unmold. Le voyage fantasme is here for me now. And now the grains slip between my toes. The sandcastles caress the glass of our hour. It's never too late, but always on time, So before the light fades, kiss me and say "I'll sleep tonight, I'll dream of you." Orchid, my Orchid, love, my love I'll dream with you forever.
Continue reading...
40
Resplendent rose, luminous green, Lucid paradisaical palette, The jewel delivers It's dyed, distinctive sheen Graciously, unassumingly Casting a pink and emerald crewel Coalescing into traces, Cuisine for sunbeams Brushing nature's easel -- Bedecking the constellation lighting on earth, Realizing among tureens: Scalloped edge profusions offering The spoonbill waif Sweet adrenaline, Fueling it's sojourn in the atmosphere. Bird of prey, humming minstrel, Airy, iridescent meddler Between red blooms, Distant gem's sparkle Gracing redolent, languid afternoons Cloaked in shimmering velveteen, Beating velocious wings, remaining still.
0
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 9:11 AM UTC
Hummingbird
The impetus                      Of being Always on the run                Through pinwheel eyes                               Those standing by                                           The mystic roadway :    River Blues yet to be brushed                       or in blush                            Of evening chill's breathing a canvas like windows dreaming felt All mindful And chockfull O'                               Wonder Then ponder                 Yonder "window breaks"                          Past the wilderness' sleep Bone heavy wood                              Umber earth                              Past whoosh and rush of liquid Folding on itself / a soundtrack       Listen now       Pedestrian be Mindful of the cautionary whales                                                Old Ahab’s yell                                   Obsessions                            Fears                                    Or loathing. If one is drowning in one's sleep Look wildly                   widely                               Blithely                                     Down river   Or up there beyond finger's point                       Sidewinder snake journeys Until sky and below it All meet The distance         Now only a line                  Coalescing what is beyond                       Our ability to see Far and away     Evanescent          Effervescent                      Ever after                                    River.     Life. Here we are And proud      The free spirit is fluent            With the rapid rivers loud                             Always on the run Currents like a child's curiosity ... How then, When or why                         does it end ? Where do we go?                      Like most things existing,            Will lead to the high art / love's deep oceans...            We often forget to seek                               And mind                                      the sublimations/                                                             d¬¬rift wood. So then, Begin with a dot . A speck of dusk                      A burst of light                                         A starry sky, pieces to mastering                    Raging fragility of water Liquid undulations                       Folding itself in / volumes Or falling from on high        A droplet cry Then the lightning                    (crash or bloom) From the heavens                                  like electric rivers So brilliantly                    Festoons Where do we go (so low)        There and here / underfoot /                    Over north / southern sleep                                    To oceans twilight deep? Go wrapped or map-less Or no.             Up                 Way        Up yonder There up there                     Everywhere                     All without fear... My heart like the river yearns                  To go toward the sun                        A flow /                                      the beating drum Always on the run And      Yet             Still                     Here.
0
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 3:58 AM UTC
RIVER
The impetus                      Of being Always on the run                Through pinwheel eyes                               Those standing by                                           The mystic roadway :    River Blues yet to be brushed                       or in blush                            Of evening chill's breathing a canvas like windows dreaming felt All mindful And chockfull O'                               Wonder Then ponder                 Yonder "window breaks"                          Past the wilderness' sleep Bone heavy wood                              Umber earth                              Past whoosh and rush of liquid Folding on itself / a soundtrack       Listen now       Pedestrian be Mindful of the cautionary whales                                                Old Ahab’s yell                                   Obsessions                            Fears                                    Or loathing. If one is drowning in one's sleep Look wildly                   widely                               Blithely                                     Down river   Or up there beyond finger's point                       Sidewinder snake journeys Until sky and below it All meet The distance         Now only a line                  Coalescing what is beyond                       Our ability to see Far and away     Evanescent          Effervescent                      Ever after                                    River.     Life. Here we are And proud      The free spirit is fluent            With the rapid rivers loud                             Always on the run Currents like a child's curiosity ... How then, When or why                         does it end ? Where do we go?                      Like most things existing,            Will lead to the high art / love's deep oceans...            We often forget to seek                               And mind                                      the sublimations/                                                             d¬¬rift wood. So then, Begin with a dot . A speck of dusk                      A burst of light                                         A starry sky, pieces to mastering                    Raging fragility of water Liquid undulations                       Folding itself in / volumes Or falling from on high        A droplet cry Then the lightning                    (crash or bloom) From the heavens                                  like electric rivers So brilliantly                    Festoons Where do we go (so low)        There and here / underfoot /                    Over north / southern sleep                                    To oceans twilight deep? Go wrapped or map-less Or no.             Up                 Way        Up yonder There up there                     Everywhere                     All without fear... My heart like the river yearns                  To go toward the sun                        A flow /                                      the beating drum Always on the run And      Yet             Still                     Here.
Continue reading...
100
Broken chords Torn heartstrings Inspiring pain Numbness The wail of the electric guitar The slow pulse of the drums The monotony of the Bass The slow bleeding of the singer The music seeps out Coalescing Clashing Conflicting I see no end, only music Music that slows time Music that surrounds Music that traps A shared understanding An outlook on the universe A fear Sadness Poetic
0
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC
Music
Women of the ROK [South Korea] unite to protest the rash of digital camera up-skirting, hidden toilet cams & dressing room holes by an avant-garde subculture whose sole aim is to redefine beauty from  the bottom up; tearing down the old order    of mere very pretty faces for the surprise   the unseen; online ******* poets who wax romantically;  over South Korean women who wear the shortest skirts of any westernized Asian country; therefore, where the average woman is expected to be above average, what could be better than a possible *** or period stain; [        ], Rupi Koar laid the foundation [her soiled garments stinking of Canadian Desi BO; dreaming wistfully of the blossoming cherry-trees in the hidden grove, streams of crystalline blood threading through the golden grass; (dead as if she was [Sleeping Beauty (on the toilet)]) & w/ healthy [or unhealthy] doses of Baudelaire, Swinburne, Poe, Sade & Wilde; this new school of poets celebrating female underwear & bottoms & beyond; what could future generations make of various Internet pseudo-intellectual movements all coalescing into a monolithic computer culture driven by the embarrassment & shame of its female members & their ***** backsides & underwear; essentially odes on her laundry basket, odes on her farts, odes on her leavings, odes on her mother's droppings & leavings, &        her grandmothers' mothers leavings; South Korean women are the original race,                their intestine driven by pure lust [a South Korean woman's soul  is in her belly]
0
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 12:53 AM UTC
the new korean ******* poetry
Women of the ROK [South Korea] unite to protest the rash of digital camera up-skirting, hidden toilet cams & dressing room holes by an avant-garde subculture whose sole aim is to redefine beauty from  the bottom up; tearing down the old order    of mere very pretty faces for the surprise   the unseen; online ******* poets who wax romantically;  over South Korean women who wear the shortest skirts of any westernized Asian country; therefore, where the average woman is expected to be above average, what could be better than a possible *** or period stain; [        ], Rupi Koar laid the foundation [her soiled garments stinking of Canadian Desi BO; dreaming wistfully of the blossoming cherry-trees in the hidden grove, streams of crystalline blood threading through the golden grass; (dead as if she was [Sleeping Beauty (on the toilet)]) & w/ healthy [or unhealthy] doses of Baudelaire, Swinburne, Poe, Sade & Wilde; this new school of poets celebrating female underwear & bottoms & beyond; what could future generations make of various Internet pseudo-intellectual movements all coalescing into a monolithic computer culture driven by the embarrassment & shame of its female members & their ***** backsides & underwear; essentially odes on her laundry basket, odes on her farts, odes on her leavings, odes on her mother's droppings & leavings, &        her grandmothers' mothers leavings; South Korean women are the original race,                their intestine driven by pure lust [a South Korean woman's soul  is in her belly]
Continue reading...
32
<!> inspired by a conversation with Maira Kalman strap on a name, adopt a persona, let my fingers do the talking, place the instrumental sharp point tip upon the blankety blank paper, maestro baton raised, coordinating, the first sound, the vocal chords trembling,   the first thought, the ultrasound image, entrance of a first violin, coalescing into, into the initializing single primary phonation, the stinging geometry of chance at last, throwing  down the gauntlet, glove slapping, and the tendons tense, the mouth opens, release and indentation, a letter's curvature, a black and white downward stroking, a sign is televised, revealed and released a one way only sign time bends knee, gravity suspended, terror morphs to expelling rapid firefights of imagery needy for spacing, even pauses mid-word  leave just this: where is the in in intimate? are you the in in inmate, or the jailor at the gate? you swear never again until committing once more, a sentence commutation, by committing a first sentence, and the greater toll taken and paid for, and the in in in-nate, questions your sanity happily <•> 9/17/17 10:55pm
0
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 3:47 PM UTC
When I Sit Down to Write
To write a poem is a treasure hunt. Diving deep into the depths of your soul, searching through your minds twisted alleyways. Rummaging among flotsam and jetsam, for that one pure gem that outshines the rest, that starts out as a diamond in the rough. Poetry is akin to opening a chest. Spilling the jewels to flow over the page. Each reveal, the precious stones take on life. Mingling and coalescing into a crown to be worn with pride and majestic joy. Kaleidoscopic endeavor, offers up a piece of yourself, you share.
0
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 6:02 PM UTC
Pearls Of Wisdom
*stepping back into the west chills reverberate up and down my spine chiseling open obsolescent padlocks dangling with dust on ancient treasure chests pallid colors in the attic release a blossoming familiarity faint hints of retrospections float on faded paper granting me access to roads where no map is needed as i peruse the streets my heart flows coalescing with the vicinity caressing each detail i transform to fluid and fuse with the past through fresh strokes of watercolored memories recollections flash before my eyes revealing antiquated stories though thought forgotten an etched history endeavors to define me renewing itself as i turn each corner i shudder at some remembrances while encompassing others through synchronicity realization hits that I am all of it yet none of it at the same time familiar faces paint meaning onto me no longer do they know me yet they airbrush vestiges of yesteryear and coat me with connotations i allow them to think i am whatever they imagine i morph into their canvas temporarily then break free in multi-dimensionality they don't hear me with a new listening no longer invested in their projections once sharp triggers now appear in soft focus an auspicious mist lies around the edges of my former life it is as if i never left yet traces of the east lie sandpapered in me a maturation commingles with my former self flushing out on my skin tethering newfound emotions a gentle gratitude for home territory nestles softly inward i listen to the clicks of my scuffed cowboy boots on acquainted yet somehow distant sidewalks the echoes layering multiple impressions glimmering with the utter beauty of this terrain as I wander through the majestic rocky mountains drinking in the quaking aspen's crimson edges interfacing the evergreens hushed whispers of autumn loftily rest juxtaposed neatly against futures waiting to unfurl in the wind an amalgamation of intimate sights and scents dance in open wounds dazzling homesickness cured a wholeness returned as winter's crystal dawn blooms i realize the depth of my growth for in leaving here and returning i cherish the west my home ©2016 janetaylor
0
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 3:50 AM UTC
returning west
*stepping back into the west chills reverberate up and down my spine chiseling open obsolescent padlocks dangling with dust on ancient treasure chests pallid colors in the attic release a blossoming familiarity faint hints of retrospections float on faded paper granting me access to roads where no map is needed as i peruse the streets my heart flows coalescing with the vicinity caressing each detail i transform to fluid and fuse with the past through fresh strokes of watercolored memories recollections flash before my eyes revealing antiquated stories though thought forgotten an etched history endeavors to define me renewing itself as i turn each corner i shudder at some remembrances while encompassing others through synchronicity realization hits that I am all of it yet none of it at the same time familiar faces paint meaning onto me no longer do they know me yet they airbrush vestiges of yesteryear and coat me with connotations i allow them to think i am whatever they imagine i morph into their canvas temporarily then break free in multi-dimensionality they don't hear me with a new listening no longer invested in their projections once sharp triggers now appear in soft focus an auspicious mist lies around the edges of my former life it is as if i never left yet traces of the east lie sandpapered in me a maturation commingles with my former self flushing out on my skin tethering newfound emotions a gentle gratitude for home territory nestles softly inward i listen to the clicks of my scuffed cowboy boots on acquainted yet somehow distant sidewalks the echoes layering multiple impressions glimmering with the utter beauty of this terrain as I wander through the majestic rocky mountains drinking in the quaking aspen's crimson edges interfacing the evergreens hushed whispers of autumn loftily rest juxtaposed neatly against futures waiting to unfurl in the wind an amalgamation of intimate sights and scents dance in open wounds dazzling homesickness cured a wholeness returned as winter's crystal dawn blooms i realize the depth of my growth for in leaving here and returning i cherish the west my home ©2016 janetaylor
Continue reading...
66
A moment’s inspiration to grasp a building thought, A panicked, surged excitement, now achieved, where once was naught. In plucking crystal thought from the yonder crisp, blue air, And coalescing mishmash into meaningful repair. To seek a path of verbage realigning phrases bright And feel the resurrection of creative works this night. In pulling rich vocabulary from within the concrete hash Concocting circumspection in this brilliant verse from trash. Annunciating clarity and a purity of class To haul yourself, abruptly, to get off your lazy **** To burst forth in immaculate and spontaneous wordage clear And blithely blow away your critics on their loathsome, leering ear. Marshalg 11 September 2013
0
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
Resurrection
Wash          *Away the memories of how         We tangled together         Like the perfect sailor’s knot         An organized intricacy           Coalescing my jumpy nerves         With your easy laughter* Rinse *The weight of your fingers          Imprinted on my scalp          A heartbreaking muscle memory         Fingers that once ran through my hair         Run to another’s touch* Repeat *This sadistic cycle of erasure          Hoping one day forgetting          Won’t be a conscious thought          That shower shall set me free.*
0
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
Subliminal Shampoos
"How beautiful are your tents, O Jacob, Your dwelling places, O Israel!" Thy children gather, telescoping generations, O Jacob, what do thine eyes ascertain. what history do they memorize? Coalescing younger star clusters, disparate related families uniting, embedding as a single unity, a star cloud, shedding a new light, the astronomers awed, witnesses, a super-star cluster birthed. The beauty of thy tents, thy wealth, O Jacob, is their multiplicity, their construct and content. The web of thy tissue, bindings, linkages, what resides within thy tents, acknowledge, testify, that the strength of thy issue, are the Matriarchs, managers of thy destiny, mothers of thy dynasty, The Sarah's, Leah's, the Rachel's, the Fay's, the Ginger's, the Miriam's these jewels bedeck, beautify, brides and bridles of thy tents, master mistresses of thy dwellings, without them, O Jacob, you, but, just, another desert tribe.
0
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
How beautiful are your tents, O Jacob, Your dwelling places, O Israel!
Coalescing, cuddling life swimming inside. Cleansing, like a mother would a child, scrubs away collected  stains.   An attention to detail rinses, washes food, blessing it into our bellies with an aqua kiss.   A coolness douses the summer heat, A relief quenches thirst Of human and animal alike. A babbling sound, bubbling into a relaxing, lazy Sunday…
0
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 1:03 PM UTC
Water (calm)
I'd just fixed the echo of tears that                 grazed within me. Then coalescing before me,                             you smiled,                                 it was a hit & run. Thrown back in ruination as my emotions bled. You never even checked, you just proceeded, and I again                   was a broken seashell.
0
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 6:15 PM UTC
A Broken Seashell
© 2011 (Jim Sularz) I will walk through fields of chrysanthemums, with giant dragonflies in gloried hues. In a curved space-time continuum, I’ll stand in wonder, they’ll peer and zoom. I will reap, from deep treasures ploughed, when love’s full measure is weighed in me. Where far flung coalescing spirit clouds, conceive their stardust progeny. With bright candle lights, melt my waxen wings, rekindle my spirit shadow to set me free. Then, within my soul, I’ll rejoice and let the Heavens sing, that it be Earth, I’ve come back to see!
0
Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 5:04 PM UTC
Let The Heavens Sing
Deep sleeping delta breathing Breath of subtle water air Salivating in mid summer airs- Night view on the dark pavement. Hands on it feeling upward rising Warmth. Gazing up at the sun Red, Pink, Orange and Blue coalescing infinitely. The Sky Earth Action in my memories m e m o r i e s
0
Feb 17, 2021
Feb 17, 2021 at 11:47 PM UTC
Sunset Sauna
a moment refines least of all i, coarse subdivision of all second skies, stars, or nothing, minute from fall. or fallen already. asleep for hours. hope coiled helplessness around her wrist, caught my head. spent days in space. at least, most of them. can't help subduction any same, another algebra in stone. collapse like month's passage. hope won't speak, every theory is glowing. a year dissolves empty, replacing every field with stripmalls to mountains again. a century forgets regicide. an eternity later, we press against the wall like dust coalescing. hope strings us up, couple more embers in the sky.
0
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC
found lost
In nights of rest, rest assured I will see you in all sunny tomorrows So much solar power feeds the earth,   feeds the soul, incumbent in its given place, We sail-pirouette around it on a spherical hoop-dance So volatile, a combustion hydrogen-cosmic-lantern and a coalescing helium brew Lash out your heated tongues push flare waves to lick our living sphere, concentrates on heated brows and scatters atoms and molecules The upper push for earth-life and this mater Sun is but a conservador wearing its blinding cosmic-girth Made homage to, anthropomorphized in past primordial granduer, spot your ancient rays on earth's gyrating seasons, from dawn to dusk so much the sun...
0
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC
So much the Sun
I look up at the skylight Rain drops coalescing The reflection of a few drops Dancing on the wall In the breeze Which is more A gale Howling and loud Outside Destroying trees Somewhere A silvery strand of a cobweb Dances and shimmers In the pale sun Playing hide and seek The silence in my room So loud The thunder outside So far The daffodils on my windowsill Have died and dried Papery petals, a brilliant amber now Green stalks greedily still drinking While the petals thirst The tops of the trees Through my window Freshly showered Move like a woman Dancing for her lover Seducing Shimmying And yet I think of Delhi Desertlike and brown Hostile and cruel The dirt streaked faces The shining eyes Of the beggar children At crossings The eunuchs who bully The traffic, the fumes The noise that deafens The rich women who flaunt Diamonds and lovers The clubs for the haves The stares from the have-nots And I come back To the music of the rain On the skylight And the chirp of a bird Somewhere far away
0
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
Memories of Delhi, from far away...
Poetry lives, sleeps, deep, deep within, The words, waiting, waiting, waiting, Nurtured, soothed, lovingly cajoled, Given form and purpose, till they rise, Coming to life, unbidden, bursting free. They echo around the globe, touching, Slipping silkily into hearts and minds, Subtly connecting with new-born ideas, Mingling, coalescing, waiting, waiting, That’s where poetry come from, (yes), Poetry lives, sleeps, deep, deep within. ©Paul M Chafer 2016
0
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 11:29 AM UTC
Poetry
Wounds heal and memories fade But the price has already been paid Self image and esteem crippled Coalescing with your life it ripples Loneliness and disparity take hold Driving you further inward you fold The weight you carry feels like a boulder A gentle hand upon your shoulder Eyes at the ground you didn’t see the light above Your Father is there to show you His love Relinquishing prior understanding you fold To Your Lord, to whom you hold Coalescing with your life Jesus’ Love ripples Never again will you be crippled For your pain and price Jesus has paid Wounds heal and memories fade
0
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 12:03 AM UTC
Wounds heal and memories fade
I walk aimless, but alert, down moon washed streets In the twilight, I strain to tell patron from vagrant A coalescing of something at once ageless, but fading Like the stone of this courthouse; pillars of justice Cracked quietly by the steady chiseling of time On forgotten foundations In the air rests a stench of contempt, or neglect Like an oil stain, thickening turquoise waves To a sickening ooze, of endless, crashing degradation A nation of people, betrothed to suitors unknown The power of a dollar hedged against the weight of your soul Where pockets are plump, and virtue is sold
0
Aug 3, 2021
Aug 3, 2021 at 11:53 PM UTC
Thickening Air
The smoky smell of autumn leaves settles inside my mind, like a rose petal fossilizing inside a mountain In wintertime snowfall blankets the blemishes In springtime rosebuds seed the air with hope By summer the air is pregnant with passion But I fall more in love with each autumn day, her palette of colors coalescing to your hazel eyes
0
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 8:33 PM UTC
You Spring to Mind
Like water falling over a crest A swift rapid descent into a black hole The paradox known as my life Disguised as a pseudonym plunging Ever deeper into a swirling Of emotions into depths unknown Cascading over cliffs at ever greater speed Feeling out of control Coalescing into a bottomless pit The sheerness of the sides Ever sharper the deeper I fall Leaving no way out Holding my breath For the inevitable free fall Into a chasm of darkness Is this my destiny or fate Or just another nightmare among many That I will endure Until... Andreas Simic©
0
Jun 18, 2022
Jun 18, 2022 at 8:49 AM UTC
Falling
Something is coming. I can feel it on the wind A change is upon us A change is at hand The storm is coming I can feel it in the air A great change is coming You have to beware I can feel it coming People are getting Caught in the storm Caught in the first Winds and rains Anchor yourself Keep yourself Strong my friend There is still Along way to go Before we are fully Clear of the winds And the rains It has only Just begun We are in the Midst of a new Way of thinking A new storm of Ideas and thoughts All colliding at once Colliding and coalescing Into one great mass A mass of crazy mess And energy that is Driving us mad With its insanity People are getting Lost in the mess Lost in the storm Lost to the dark Allowing the Insanity to take Over their hearts Yet there are some Who are also reaching Higher heights New ways of thinking New ways of loving Creating higher Connections with Themselves and the Earth Creating more open And loving connections With every one around Spreading the love And getting deeper Flying higher Than they ever Have before You must get Yourself ready The storm is upon us The storm is here The storm is now We still have a long Way for the storm to stop But once it does We will see a calm A break in the storm In the clouds like We have never seen A new light A brand new Day A stronger Clearer Brighter Way of Thinking Than we ever Thought Possible Some people Will inevitably Get caught up In the initial storm Getting caught in The mess and The muck and mire But if you can stay Strong and survive You will sail above The storm Flying into Newer heights Than you ever Thought possible
0
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 1:11 AM UTC
Something
Something is coming. I can feel it on the wind A change is upon us A change is at hand The storm is coming I can feel it in the air A great change is coming You have to beware I can feel it coming People are getting Caught in the storm Caught in the first Winds and rains Anchor yourself Keep yourself Strong my friend There is still Along way to go Before we are fully Clear of the winds And the rains It has only Just begun We are in the Midst of a new Way of thinking A new storm of Ideas and thoughts All colliding at once Colliding and coalescing Into one great mass A mass of crazy mess And energy that is Driving us mad With its insanity People are getting Lost in the mess Lost in the storm Lost to the dark Allowing the Insanity to take Over their hearts Yet there are some Who are also reaching Higher heights New ways of thinking New ways of loving Creating higher Connections with Themselves and the Earth Creating more open And loving connections With every one around Spreading the love And getting deeper Flying higher Than they ever Have before You must get Yourself ready The storm is upon us The storm is here The storm is now We still have a long Way for the storm to stop But once it does We will see a calm A break in the storm In the clouds like We have never seen A new light A brand new Day A stronger Clearer Brighter Way of Thinking Than we ever Thought Possible Some people Will inevitably Get caught up In the initial storm Getting caught in The mess and The muck and mire But if you can stay Strong and survive You will sail above The storm Flying into Newer heights Than you ever Thought possible
Continue reading...
96
his eyes devour me as if, tasting scent of skin; licked in whispering heat kissing my *** tongue probing firmness, ******* pert as eyes cast mind's silent touch moans escape with each whispered thought, he hungers quietly shivering as tongue skims wetness eyes still devour as breathless shudders cascade breathing in sweet intoxication drenching us; each ****** of eyeful lust, coalescing my sensual need; thrusting imagination eyes gyrating hips; lips quiver as kiss sears flesh awakening senses to a creamy deluge cascading between lips yearn, as eyes gaze; frenzied, planting seed; pulsing to completion eyes harden member ready to explode, lips tease gaze still tasting soft skin in need; connecting bodies within curvature of us, taking our breath away giving in to my needs
0
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:29 PM UTC
Eyes Devour