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"coals" poems
Science says that there's a mathematical equation that explains everything in life. But I say that not even physics bears an explanation for...the guidelines of attraction. Our primal reactions are multiplied in...the highlights of passion. These laws of love that linger like a lanterns lost illumination... Like the campfire light on a clear night, leaves coals of culmination. Sweat beads lead to bare threads and bare bodies. And oh my, how bare bodies lead to imaginations running wild. Cold winds inspire warm kisses and close skin. Sincere actions aren't sins. Bodies wound in union, formed by light and tightly bound. Together, these twisted vines penetrate the hardest ground... Together, harmonic souls produce passionate sounds. Yet, still somehow, love gets lost more than love gets found. This equation is unending...like numbers off lips that kiss the air. Body language spoken...Our physical bonds parallel eternity and pi squared. And you know that every moment that we share is nothing short of...molecular love for the masses... Now held captive by gravity and magnetism... See, the last full moon marked retrograde...and if the moon affects the tide of the ocean...and our bodies are roughly 75% water...can we assume that this is the only body powerful enough to keep ours apart? This gravity... This pull... It's pulling me apart...so let me pull you closer, stop pushing me away! Hold on tight, dont let these planets drift away into a dark rift of decay. Let your love lap upon this solid stone like a river riffles smooth sandbars into hills of higher ground. Because baby, without your water on my beach... I'm nothing but a desert, dry and deserted.
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Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 10:53 PM UTC
Physical physics
Science says that there's a mathematical equation that explains everything in life. But I say that not even physics bears an explanation for...the guidelines of attraction. Our primal reactions are multiplied in...the highlights of passion. These laws of love that linger like a lanterns lost illumination... Like the campfire light on a clear night, leaves coals of culmination. Sweat beads lead to bare threads and bare bodies. And oh my, how bare bodies lead to imaginations running wild. Cold winds inspire warm kisses and close skin. Sincere actions aren't sins. Bodies wound in union, formed by light and tightly bound. Together, these twisted vines penetrate the hardest ground... Together, harmonic souls produce passionate sounds. Yet, still somehow, love gets lost more than love gets found. This equation is unending...like numbers off lips that kiss the air. Body language spoken...Our physical bonds parallel eternity and pi squared. And you know that every moment that we share is nothing short of...molecular love for the masses... Now held captive by gravity and magnetism... See, the last full moon marked retrograde...and if the moon affects the tide of the ocean...and our bodies are roughly 75% water...can we assume that this is the only body powerful enough to keep ours apart? This gravity... This pull... It's pulling me apart...so let me pull you closer, stop pushing me away! Hold on tight, dont let these planets drift away into a dark rift of decay. Let your love lap upon this solid stone like a river riffles smooth sandbars into hills of higher ground. Because baby, without your water on my beach... I'm nothing but a desert, dry and deserted.
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25
Doom train hurtling along Through the fog in my mind Towing freight, rectangular and oblong Dim headlights, you're travelling blind Five carriages long, excluding engine and caboose Metal against metal, spitting sparks on steel Undetermined path, rails will choose Chugging along on dirt covered wheels In the cabin, I see the light Emanating from your furnace Swallowing up coals in your gaping bite Tongues of flames licking the surface Fire breathing, spewing thick black smoke Almost unseen, against the dark of night A long plumy arm as if extending to choke And plug the remaining sources of light Meandering precariously on tracks that weave Over uncharted, unfathomable terrain Your store, so reliably you heave Worming your way through my brain What's in that cargo of yours? What lies within those boxcars? What drives you to diligently run your course? What fuels you to travel near and far? Loads of self pity, self loathing and self reproach Snaking your way to an unknown destination Screeching brakes as if a stop you approach Herald the train of dubious intentions Light is upon you, dark will dissipate Your plumes starting to lessen from your stack The dawn breaking horizon you didn't anticipate To see another charging towards you on this very same track...
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:16 AM UTC
Doom Train (I)
* red - her lips tasted of wine and blood and all the pain she felt in her heart. she was driven by wild passion and survived solely on her intensity and strength. each breath she took was like fire; so absolute, so empowered. orange - her hair was crafted from the bright ashes of a phoenix, kindled with streaks of gold. she always seemed to be her own lick of flame from the embers that burned in her heart to the coals that touched her soul. yellow - her smile was light at your darkest hour, sunshine after a rainstorm. inspired by everything and nothing at all. she was the sun personified, the epitome of radiance. green - her eyes were so deep and magnificent and ethereal, while still lit with puerility. she could look at you with those eyes and show you that she cared so passionately for you, no matter your mistakes or your faults. blue - her skin drowned in an ocean of tears, storm after storm, each wave wracked her body. she trembled with heartrending sobs, each breath heavier than the last. her sorrow painted the depths of her, unseen to those who had not genuinely looked into her eyes. purple - her organs were stained an ugly shade by the darkness she consumed. her hunger was insatiable. she filled her mouth with poison and swallowed it with a smile on her face. the air traveled from her bruised lungs, through her macerated throat, and out her smiling, stained lips.
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
"how would you explain color to a blind man?"
. ***Ancient games tell tales of dust.  |||   A story drawn from the lips of two poets.*** ~~~~~ It's the wits that **** not Queens of ivory or ***ink. *** Charged with coal strokes, scraping up the lies. Pawns & Knights slip between the grasp of the sun, leaking into*   lion jaws of Leo. Shifting these granite plates, ignoring the Rooks common price of aslant. Here we have slain kin, crescent traitors that backstab the night and battlefield. Closed doors and trap floors, trade me a tie, swindling your tactic ruts. Reality never got the noose around our necks, check turned into manslaughter, and kingdoms ripped asunder by the roar of Jupiter Get up, get up, get away from these liars, they can't have your rank or your fire. Peak a notion, this match is spared by a luft. Toss away the pride buried 'neath your dusty skin, it don't matter no more if   death has you by the lips. Silence is a language too in our eyes of earth. Take my hand, knott your soul into this downfall, and brace yourself for the wreckage in our bones. The Sword of Sorrows will fall 'pon your shoulders, not to slay thee, but to dub thee a new day. The drums of war will knit the lyrics in the sky, singing: "The mighty sharpen their fangs, the weak sharpen their wisdom" ~~~~~ I'm tired of your wishbones, and golden scales, give me the hard-earned truth. Hot coals of honesty may you tread upon, shadow-bitten remorseful may you be, don't stray off the course of Ursa major. The North star isn't the one I follow It's the moon with all of it's phases, Eclipsing and crescent, tipping the sky with it's beauty. Now let this sink further than any soul has ever sunk, no man could ever *rule the moon. ~~~~~~ ***Shoot on command, C h           e c         k m a t       e*** ~~~~ You could drag me to hell and back and those words wouldn't mean anything. Let this downfall become a downfell, Because last I checked "Wolves worship the moon" and I have broke it's reflection in the water *Just by throwing s                     t           o          n                  e                               s                                        .* .
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Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
Playing Chess with Dragons
. ***Ancient games tell tales of dust.  |||   A story drawn from the lips of two poets.*** ~~~~~ It's the wits that **** not Queens of ivory or ***ink. *** Charged with coal strokes, scraping up the lies. Pawns & Knights slip between the grasp of the sun, leaking into*   lion jaws of Leo. Shifting these granite plates, ignoring the Rooks common price of aslant. Here we have slain kin, crescent traitors that backstab the night and battlefield. Closed doors and trap floors, trade me a tie, swindling your tactic ruts. Reality never got the noose around our necks, check turned into manslaughter, and kingdoms ripped asunder by the roar of Jupiter Get up, get up, get away from these liars, they can't have your rank or your fire. Peak a notion, this match is spared by a luft. Toss away the pride buried 'neath your dusty skin, it don't matter no more if   death has you by the lips. Silence is a language too in our eyes of earth. Take my hand, knott your soul into this downfall, and brace yourself for the wreckage in our bones. The Sword of Sorrows will fall 'pon your shoulders, not to slay thee, but to dub thee a new day. The drums of war will knit the lyrics in the sky, singing: "The mighty sharpen their fangs, the weak sharpen their wisdom" ~~~~~ I'm tired of your wishbones, and golden scales, give me the hard-earned truth. Hot coals of honesty may you tread upon, shadow-bitten remorseful may you be, don't stray off the course of Ursa major. The North star isn't the one I follow It's the moon with all of it's phases, Eclipsing and crescent, tipping the sky with it's beauty. Now let this sink further than any soul has ever sunk, no man could ever *rule the moon. ~~~~~~ ***Shoot on command, C h           e c         k m a t       e*** ~~~~ You could drag me to hell and back and those words wouldn't mean anything. Let this downfall become a downfell, Because last I checked "Wolves worship the moon" and I have broke it's reflection in the water *Just by throwing s                     t           o          n                  e                               s                                        .* .
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58
A view just before sunrise Resembles like a sunset But the difference is vast As it is fills with a hope of rays A view just before sunrise Is well felt deep inside When it starts to gleam With its sun rays A view just before sunrise Is a blooming sun of rays Which fill with bright lights And make beautiful sights A view just before sunrise Is a view of hopes Excited in full of vibes With its vibrant colours A view just before sunrise Is a one more chance Given to know the worth of lives To live with full of senses A view just before sunrise Is to be grateful to God’s grace To be a part of living miracles Especially in this competitive eras A view just before sunrise Is enjoyed well when it rises And when it rise to its bests It seems as smiling at us A view just before sunrise Is a smiley face of sun As of a blooming sunflower’s With its joyful pleasures A view just before sunrise Is the waiting periods To see the rising queen Reflecting as golden eyes A view just before sunrise Is hope of new days In its blessed paces For every faces A view just before sunrise Helps to plan in advance To utilise the opportunities With its best ways A view just before sunrise May bless us to rise With its immense cheers So all can have its leisures A view just before sunrise Is the stipulated time frames To harvest the best nuts From the life’s tests A view just before sunrise Is to raise yourselves To shine as jewel stones As a sun in yourselves A view just before sunrise Is to enjoy the glory of living vibes To make best diamond from coals So that it lustre in darks A view just before sunrise In nutshell, is a glorious shine As a diamond kept in caves To brighten the path of ways
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Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 8:04 PM UTC
VIEW JUST BEFORE SUNRISE
A view just before sunrise Resembles like a sunset But the difference is vast As it is fills with a hope of rays A view just before sunrise Is well felt deep inside When it starts to gleam With its sun rays A view just before sunrise Is a blooming sun of rays Which fill with bright lights And make beautiful sights A view just before sunrise Is a view of hopes Excited in full of vibes With its vibrant colours A view just before sunrise Is a one more chance Given to know the worth of lives To live with full of senses A view just before sunrise Is to be grateful to God’s grace To be a part of living miracles Especially in this competitive eras A view just before sunrise Is enjoyed well when it rises And when it rise to its bests It seems as smiling at us A view just before sunrise Is a smiley face of sun As of a blooming sunflower’s With its joyful pleasures A view just before sunrise Is the waiting periods To see the rising queen Reflecting as golden eyes A view just before sunrise Is hope of new days In its blessed paces For every faces A view just before sunrise Helps to plan in advance To utilise the opportunities With its best ways A view just before sunrise May bless us to rise With its immense cheers So all can have its leisures A view just before sunrise Is the stipulated time frames To harvest the best nuts From the life’s tests A view just before sunrise Is to raise yourselves To shine as jewel stones As a sun in yourselves A view just before sunrise Is to enjoy the glory of living vibes To make best diamond from coals So that it lustre in darks A view just before sunrise In nutshell, is a glorious shine As a diamond kept in caves To brighten the path of ways
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63
The next to empty train Roars through the mist of dawn As it passes the lakes and elves The dark and mystic pines -forests that once told of horrors To keep the ones like me From crossing the line- This box, this crate A testament of the modern man To whom which it serves It is somewhat of a time traveller When it breezes the land That years have made its own And yet there are scenes from my window That I know are proofs Of exceptions to the rule that reads, “time will take its toll” All the brooks and oaks And even more so Every bolder and stone Convinces my heart and soul That I need not be marred and scorned Broken and torn By the thistles and thorns And all the bourdons that the lions Of this glass world Convict me to ***** Since there is a side To the manic and indecisive puzzle that is I A side of realism and cynicism Thus I am well aware of my mortality And the scarcity of the time that is mine My existence is an indirect unwritten vow To never bend my back and bow To never fall in line And receive my share of coals To fuel this machine down the rusty tracks In a race against nature or God A race to prove one or the other Or even both wrong A race we’ve already lost
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Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 11:43 AM UTC
On A Train
The British anthropologist enjoyed rare tribesmen. But after seeing his article published in the prestigious Journal of Anthropological Research, he kept the poor man on the coals a little longer, thinking, "Well done, old chap."
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Apr 29, 2021
Apr 29, 2021 at 11:07 AM UTC
Rare Tribesmen
True friends can help us seek inside our souls For that which is true Retrace our steps looking into burning coals Of blazing fires, we left a smoldering When life went all-askew They help us see beyond our looking glass Under places where we hide Deep scars and wounds of days gone past From all those bitter tears That never dried A true friend can help us see a side of us We may not wish to see While holding our hand in gentle trust Even when We don’t agree The truest friend is the one who appears To help put those fires out cold Binds your wounds and dries your tears While holding the hand Of your soul
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Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 5:33 PM UTC
Hand of Your Soul
Everytime we touch, I get this sensation Running through me. It starts in the core And spreads. It's like the butterflies are biting And sending a surge through my body. It's starting a fire, That's setting my bones burning, Yearning, Craving you. How much is it to ask, That you satisfy this. That you turn the other way, And see the girl that's burning. Burning for the affection of you. How much would it cost, To put an end to this fire To let the coals cool, Turning them to ice. That with the ice, Time could be frozen And it would just be you and me Burning this world to the ground.
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Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 3:23 PM UTC
Burning
The end of Second Summer's day When rain and snow have ceased to be Will see the end of our delay And mark the death of our decree. *Elsewhere the despondent souls Of smoke-stacks rise up from the coals...* As plastic melts beneath the glare And long the Dream was dashed ashore, Then will smog-clouds light the air And cast the fires across the moor. *... Then, far beyond, the wand'ring mirth Will strike the land, and scorch the Earth...* Until the sky is raised in flame We'll walk the trail of frail regrets, And once the world glows hot with shame Shame will then our end beget. *... And so our doing will blaze the sky By MMXXVII*.
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Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 5:32 PM UTC
MMXXVII
My family is dead, I am the first Dunmer to return. My Crimson eyes tell stories, Of my emotions, My dreams. I am Iria, Daughter to the House of Telvani. My home is now Ash, And deserted. The Red mountains destruction, Left only coals to burn. As I journey, To the Frozen lands. I wonder what's in store, When I arrive in Skyrim...
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Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
Iria Of Raven Rock
My sisters and I jest That men never get over us. We have been named Muses, angels, succubi, leanan sidhe But we are les belles dames avec merci And that is their undoing. Our breath has left them gasping With unfilled lungs We never meant to be their oxygen But they drink us in like drowning men. We didn’t ask for this, But disarming, we are soft enough For them to float in Belly up, eyes to distant stars Singing the sirens song that stirs in our veins. Behind our teeth rests the love The world has failed to give them till now There are holds in the knowledge that our fingertips find the hollowed spaces, mother wounds, clefts where trust was carved out, And they clutch our palms to staunch the bleeding. We never asked for this, They cherish the brittle changelings of us until they are crushed in the coals of our eyes Eggshell ideals, fragile as egos. Blown by the sea wind in the strands of our hair they are scattered, undone. The distance drifts between, inevitable And full they turn away to starve We cut the mooring line After one too many storms, And search For safer Harbor.
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Sep 29, 2021
Sep 29, 2021 at 9:54 AM UTC
Weird Sisters
The night descended upon the day Inhaling the goodness Smothering Murderous Diseased and dark .Mankind swallowed down the perverse evil and sickened Desperate for the emotions once felt No longer remembered That will once more warm and quicken Dead jaded hearts, Rose from their bank's angry rivers Now rocky dry brooks The ocean overcame the land Islands sank to sea beds below The earth furious heaved and split The coals of the sleeping volcano's were lit Humanity shivered in moldy damp caves Counting their once thought endless days No longer gods of the earth Of green rich ground Or untouchable stars The world was falling apart 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 Oct. 8, 2014
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
The World was falling Apart
*When the heat from your hatred has burned out, what more will you have left; but coals?*
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Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 1:43 PM UTC
Hatred's fire.
Emotion is like a campfire You try to cover it with hard wood but true feeling is in the burning coals you cannot touch it so you try to cover it but it will only burn brighter
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Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 10:14 PM UTC
Like a Campfire
Coolers of alcohol Blueberry shisha Blazing bonfire I'm having fun Who are you to judge me? Empty beer cans Ashy coals Cigarillo butts I'm a little dizzy Who are you? Spilt ***** Tipped hookah ****** advances I can't move "Who..are..."
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
I'm Just Having Fun
I The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and the Tongs, They all took a drive in the Park, And they each sang a song, Ding-a-dong, Ding-a-dong, Before they went back in the dark. Mr. Poker he sate quite upright in the coach, Mr. Tongs made a clatter and clash, Miss Shovel was all dressed in black (with a brooch), Mrs. Broom was in blue (with a sash). Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! And they all sang a song! II 'O Shovel so lovely!' the Poker he sang, 'You have perfectly conquered my heart! 'Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! If you're pleased with my song, 'I will feed you with cold apple **** 'When you scrape up the coals with a delicate sound, 'You encapture my life with delight! 'Your nose is so shiny! your head is so round! 'And your shape is so slender and bright! 'Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! 'Ain't you pleased with my song?' III 'Alas! Mrs. Broom!' sighed the Tongs in his song, 'O is it because I'm so thin, 'And my legs are so long--Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! 'That you don't care about me a pin? 'Ah! fairest of creatures, when sweeping the room, 'Ah! why don't you heed my complaint! 'Must you needs be so cruel, you beautiful Broom, 'Because you are covered with paint? 'Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! 'You are certainly wrong!' IV Mrs. Broom and Miss Shovel together they sang, 'What nonsense you're singing to-day!' Said the Shovel, 'I'll certainly hit you a bang!' Said the Broom, 'And I'll sweep you away!' So the Coachman drove homeward as fast as he could, Perceiving their anger with pain; But they put on the kettle and little by little, They all became happy again. Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! There's an end of my song!
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4.2k
The Broom, The Shovel,The Poker, And The Tongs
I The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and the Tongs, They all took a drive in the Park, And they each sang a song, Ding-a-dong, Ding-a-dong, Before they went back in the dark. Mr. Poker he sate quite upright in the coach, Mr. Tongs made a clatter and clash, Miss Shovel was all dressed in black (with a brooch), Mrs. Broom was in blue (with a sash). Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! And they all sang a song! II 'O Shovel so lovely!' the Poker he sang, 'You have perfectly conquered my heart! 'Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! If you're pleased with my song, 'I will feed you with cold apple **** 'When you scrape up the coals with a delicate sound, 'You encapture my life with delight! 'Your nose is so shiny! your head is so round! 'And your shape is so slender and bright! 'Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! 'Ain't you pleased with my song?' III 'Alas! Mrs. Broom!' sighed the Tongs in his song, 'O is it because I'm so thin, 'And my legs are so long--Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! 'That you don't care about me a pin? 'Ah! fairest of creatures, when sweeping the room, 'Ah! why don't you heed my complaint! 'Must you needs be so cruel, you beautiful Broom, 'Because you are covered with paint? 'Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! 'You are certainly wrong!' IV Mrs. Broom and Miss Shovel together they sang, 'What nonsense you're singing to-day!' Said the Shovel, 'I'll certainly hit you a bang!' Said the Broom, 'And I'll sweep you away!' So the Coachman drove homeward as fast as he could, Perceiving their anger with pain; But they put on the kettle and little by little, They all became happy again. Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! There's an end of my song!
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44
This time I'm going to do the hermit thing right Inner-work and self-love from morning to night   Awareness of all my woes and insecurities   Connecting with universal flows and obscurities Going into my depths, no human interference Focusing on my soul, not my appearance Transmuting all my deep pain into sweet pleasure While turning these dark coals into beautiful treasure This focus and expansion is serving me well Returning to my inner heaven, away from this hell
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May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 10:58 PM UTC
The Path Of The Hermit
*take me to your serenity.. so you feel joy in the deserted .. give me a privilege  and a name .. in order to reign in your heart and in it excite plump body .. can't run and hide from the conscience  .. could not bear the will of passion flame .. the soul has long been frozen and can't be extinguished to felt .. i want to give a bear hug  to a small shoulder and  crushing the faithfully .. creeps passionate embrace your body with longing coals .. kissing  your thin lips deeply  until it burn your desire.. **** your tongue wild  until unsatisfied romance .. licking strong passion in your chest until bubbling subsided .. shake your wild fantasy to  spoiling you with endless fondling .. your night is ocean impression that never fade.. wading and paddling memories together .. beautiful, warm and whole in your arms..* ┈┈┈┈»̶·̵̭̌✽✽·̵̭̌«̶  ƦУ  »̶·̵̭̌✽✽·̵̭̌«̶┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ hadirkan aku dalam heningmu agar tenang engkau dalam sepi.. beri aku sebuah gelar dan nama.. agar dapat kubertahta dalam hatimu dan berkuasa dalam tubuhmu.. tak dapat nurani untuk berlari sembunyi.. tak sanggup kodrati diri memikul rasa.. lama jiwa itu membeku dan padam hingga tak sempat merasa.. inginku peluk hingga remuk pundak kecil kesetiaanmu.. mendekap gigil gairah tubuhmu dengan bara kerinduan.. melumat tuntas gelisah bibir tipismu hingga bergetar lunglai.. menghisap liar asmara lidahmu hingga terpuasi.. merengguk hasrat peluhmu yang berjatuhan hingga terpulasi.. menggagahi kencang gairah didadamu hingga membuncah surut.. menyetubuhi manjamu dengan cumbuan tak berkesudahan.. malammu adalah  samudra kesan tak berpudar.. mengarungi  kenangan dan mengayuh kebersamaan.. indah, hangat dan luruh dalam dekapan..
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Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 7:11 PM UTC
copulate with conscience
*take me to your serenity.. so you feel joy in the deserted .. give me a privilege  and a name .. in order to reign in your heart and in it excite plump body .. can't run and hide from the conscience  .. could not bear the will of passion flame .. the soul has long been frozen and can't be extinguished to felt .. i want to give a bear hug  to a small shoulder and  crushing the faithfully .. creeps passionate embrace your body with longing coals .. kissing  your thin lips deeply  until it burn your desire.. **** your tongue wild  until unsatisfied romance .. licking strong passion in your chest until bubbling subsided .. shake your wild fantasy to  spoiling you with endless fondling .. your night is ocean impression that never fade.. wading and paddling memories together .. beautiful, warm and whole in your arms..* ┈┈┈┈»̶·̵̭̌✽✽·̵̭̌«̶  ƦУ  »̶·̵̭̌✽✽·̵̭̌«̶┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ hadirkan aku dalam heningmu agar tenang engkau dalam sepi.. beri aku sebuah gelar dan nama.. agar dapat kubertahta dalam hatimu dan berkuasa dalam tubuhmu.. tak dapat nurani untuk berlari sembunyi.. tak sanggup kodrati diri memikul rasa.. lama jiwa itu membeku dan padam hingga tak sempat merasa.. inginku peluk hingga remuk pundak kecil kesetiaanmu.. mendekap gigil gairah tubuhmu dengan bara kerinduan.. melumat tuntas gelisah bibir tipismu hingga bergetar lunglai.. menghisap liar asmara lidahmu hingga terpuasi.. merengguk hasrat peluhmu yang berjatuhan hingga terpulasi.. menggagahi kencang gairah didadamu hingga membuncah surut.. menyetubuhi manjamu dengan cumbuan tak berkesudahan.. malammu adalah  samudra kesan tak berpudar.. mengarungi  kenangan dan mengayuh kebersamaan.. indah, hangat dan luruh dalam dekapan..
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34
On winter nights beside the nursery fire We read the fairy tale, while glowing coals Builded its pictures. There before our eyes We saw the vaulted hall of traceried stone Uprear itself, the distant ceiling hung With pendent stalactites like frozen vines; And all along the walls at intervals, Curled upwards into pillars, roses climbed, And ramped and were confined, and clustered leaves Divided where there peered a laughing face. The foliage seemed to rustle in the wind, A silent murmur, carved in still, gray stone. High pointed windows pierced the southern wall Whence proud escutcheons flung prismatic fires To stain the tessellated marble floor With pools of red, and quivering green, and blue; And in the shade beyond the further door, Its sober squares of black and white were hid Beneath a restless, shuffling, wide-eyed mob Of lackeys and retainers come to view The Christening. A sudden blare of trumpets, and the throng About the entrance parted as the guests Filed singly in with rare and precious gifts. Our eager fancies noted all they brought, The glorious, unattainable delights! But always there was one unbidden guest Who cursed the child and left it bitterness. The fire falls asunder, all is changed, I am no more a child, and what I see Is not a fairy tale, but life, my life. The gifts are there, the many pleasant things: Health, wealth, long-settled friendships, with a name Which honors all who bear it, and the power Of making words obedient. This is much; But overshadowing all is still the curse, That never shall I be fulfilled by love! Along the parching highroad of the world No other soul shall bear mine company. Always shall I be teased with semblances, With cruel impostures, which I trust awhile Then dash to pieces, as a careless boy Flings a kaleidoscope, which shattering Strews all the ground about with coloured shards. So I behold my visions on the ground No longer radiant, an ignoble heap Of broken, dusty glass. And so, unlit, Even by hope or faith, my dragging steps Force me forever through the passing days.
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3.8k
A Fairy Tale
On winter nights beside the nursery fire We read the fairy tale, while glowing coals Builded its pictures. There before our eyes We saw the vaulted hall of traceried stone Uprear itself, the distant ceiling hung With pendent stalactites like frozen vines; And all along the walls at intervals, Curled upwards into pillars, roses climbed, And ramped and were confined, and clustered leaves Divided where there peered a laughing face. The foliage seemed to rustle in the wind, A silent murmur, carved in still, gray stone. High pointed windows pierced the southern wall Whence proud escutcheons flung prismatic fires To stain the tessellated marble floor With pools of red, and quivering green, and blue; And in the shade beyond the further door, Its sober squares of black and white were hid Beneath a restless, shuffling, wide-eyed mob Of lackeys and retainers come to view The Christening. A sudden blare of trumpets, and the throng About the entrance parted as the guests Filed singly in with rare and precious gifts. Our eager fancies noted all they brought, The glorious, unattainable delights! But always there was one unbidden guest Who cursed the child and left it bitterness. The fire falls asunder, all is changed, I am no more a child, and what I see Is not a fairy tale, but life, my life. The gifts are there, the many pleasant things: Health, wealth, long-settled friendships, with a name Which honors all who bear it, and the power Of making words obedient. This is much; But overshadowing all is still the curse, That never shall I be fulfilled by love! Along the parching highroad of the world No other soul shall bear mine company. Always shall I be teased with semblances, With cruel impostures, which I trust awhile Then dash to pieces, as a careless boy Flings a kaleidoscope, which shattering Strews all the ground about with coloured shards. So I behold my visions on the ground No longer radiant, an ignoble heap Of broken, dusty glass. And so, unlit, Even by hope or faith, my dragging steps Force me forever through the passing days.
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I’m getting greys at an alarming rate, I already pulled at my hair. “It’s normal” he says I swear just to debate, cause he doesn’t seem to care. And I’m bleeding through my scar tissued skin, the layers only grew still I find a way in. I’m getting greys at an alarming rate, I’ll be down to the last strand. Check or fold the plays, the cards aren’t that great I’ll be down the my last hand. And I’m bleeding through my thick nice sweater. It’s a shame as it’s new and we’re reaching the cold weather. It will stain the soft fabric I may just grab the bleach, but I always made it a habit to always keep it just out of reach. I’m getting greys at an alarming rate pretty soon I’ll be bald. On hot coals she stays, though she shifts her weight and watches her soles scald. And I’m bleeding through my clogged and blocked pores, and the remaining few are becoming septic sores. I’ll shed another layer of a non-protective bubble, and my hair will continue to get greyer, I think I’m now in some trouble.
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Nov 8, 2024
Nov 8, 2024 at 10:35 AM UTC
Bleed Through
The cool winter air makes the grass sway like the ocean's waves. Makes the limbs of trees, both young and old, dance fancifully without care of who's watching. The brilliant sun, bold as it is, is shy this morn Only peaking over the icy mountain tops. The sky is as clear and beautiful as a newly forged glass sculpture. As I turn around, I see my home, The furnace still warm from yesterday's work sits quietly in the center The bellow, old with use waits impatiently for it's next push The anvil, stubborn with age tightens it's muscles, prepared for the torment of the day The mallet and hammer, young with ambition remember the creations so recently forged with creativity The ground is riddled with steel and coal The grass here is burnt and covered with the now stagnant embers of the furnace The walls are filled with the tools of my trade, all made in this very place. The day has begun. I act with repetition as I have so many days and nights prior. I lay fresh coals upon the furnace I push the bellow with all my strength The furnace begins to roar with vigor like a newly awoken bear I pull new, unworked steel from the bin Laying the steel upon the fire, I can see the color change and shift rapidly I prepare the hammer and mallet for use, and hear their excitement fill this place Pulling the steel from the fire, I lay it upon the grouchy anvil. Then I begin my work of creation. Hammer meets steel, sparks and embers fly, steel morphs it's shape, the day is now warm in this place. For hours, this process continues The furnace only grows warmer, The bellow only grows more worn, The anvil only tires with work, The mallet and hammer only become more ecstatic. Until the creation is complete. The day is complete. The wind has all but ceased. The grass now as still as all the sleeping creatures. The trees' festival is complete. The air is now freezing. The furnace is cooling again, The bellow is at peace again, The anvil is relaxed again, The mallet and hammer are quiet again. I sit here now, watching the sun retreat behind the lake. It's setting as colorful as a painting. My work today is done, My tools are silent, My creation is complete. I too, can now bask in the serenity of the night.
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:15 PM UTC
The Blacksmith
The cool winter air makes the grass sway like the ocean's waves. Makes the limbs of trees, both young and old, dance fancifully without care of who's watching. The brilliant sun, bold as it is, is shy this morn Only peaking over the icy mountain tops. The sky is as clear and beautiful as a newly forged glass sculpture. As I turn around, I see my home, The furnace still warm from yesterday's work sits quietly in the center The bellow, old with use waits impatiently for it's next push The anvil, stubborn with age tightens it's muscles, prepared for the torment of the day The mallet and hammer, young with ambition remember the creations so recently forged with creativity The ground is riddled with steel and coal The grass here is burnt and covered with the now stagnant embers of the furnace The walls are filled with the tools of my trade, all made in this very place. The day has begun. I act with repetition as I have so many days and nights prior. I lay fresh coals upon the furnace I push the bellow with all my strength The furnace begins to roar with vigor like a newly awoken bear I pull new, unworked steel from the bin Laying the steel upon the fire, I can see the color change and shift rapidly I prepare the hammer and mallet for use, and hear their excitement fill this place Pulling the steel from the fire, I lay it upon the grouchy anvil. Then I begin my work of creation. Hammer meets steel, sparks and embers fly, steel morphs it's shape, the day is now warm in this place. For hours, this process continues The furnace only grows warmer, The bellow only grows more worn, The anvil only tires with work, The mallet and hammer only become more ecstatic. Until the creation is complete. The day is complete. The wind has all but ceased. The grass now as still as all the sleeping creatures. The trees' festival is complete. The air is now freezing. The furnace is cooling again, The bellow is at peace again, The anvil is relaxed again, The mallet and hammer are quiet again. I sit here now, watching the sun retreat behind the lake. It's setting as colorful as a painting. My work today is done, My tools are silent, My creation is complete. I too, can now bask in the serenity of the night.
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54
I admit that in the past I was a nice guy But I think it's time I better make a switch So you'll find that nowadays I've changed all my ways! I've slaughtered, spilled their blood, oh yes a switch! Oh Yes! And I fortunately don't care about you It's a feeling that I do not posses Oh my fans, I think it's time To end them all just like those Limes* Of all the Trolls so the story can progress Poor Unfortunate Trolls! In Pain,In Need! D--> That one longing to be less Sweaty This one wwants to get the girl Should I help them? NOT AT ALL! Poor Unfortunate Trolls So sad, so true they come flocking to the fourth wall crying Please Hussie, Please! and do I help them? NO SIR E! Now it's happened once or twice I did something really nice but then next update I RACKED EM CROSS THE COALS! And I hear your sighs and complaints but I simply am a Saint! (I made them after all) To these Poor Unfortunate Trolls --- Every Troll in either Session will be Slaughtered! There's a lot of trolls to **** that's for sure. The Kids in either session may stay but I will **** them another day and if they die then they'll go god tier yawn bore Until you all adore you Huss say goodbye since Haitus, my dear fans In a sweep, and a song the story will move along and the pain, yes the pain will start again**! Come on you Poor Unfortunate Fans Go ahead hail your Huss! I'm the creator Their Maker and I've got Eternal life*** If you speak against me then boohoo You Poor Unfortunate Trolls Life ***** for you If you want to go adventuring then you have to pay the toll **** it up and get to dying for me since I'm in full control! And with my precious power, dear All their heads will roll! These POOR UNFORTUNATE TROLLS!~
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
Poor Unfortunate Trolls!
I admit that in the past I was a nice guy But I think it's time I better make a switch So you'll find that nowadays I've changed all my ways! I've slaughtered, spilled their blood, oh yes a switch! Oh Yes! And I fortunately don't care about you It's a feeling that I do not posses Oh my fans, I think it's time To end them all just like those Limes* Of all the Trolls so the story can progress Poor Unfortunate Trolls! In Pain,In Need! D--> That one longing to be less Sweaty This one wwants to get the girl Should I help them? NOT AT ALL! Poor Unfortunate Trolls So sad, so true they come flocking to the fourth wall crying Please Hussie, Please! and do I help them? NO SIR E! Now it's happened once or twice I did something really nice but then next update I RACKED EM CROSS THE COALS! And I hear your sighs and complaints but I simply am a Saint! (I made them after all) To these Poor Unfortunate Trolls --- Every Troll in either Session will be Slaughtered! There's a lot of trolls to **** that's for sure. The Kids in either session may stay but I will **** them another day and if they die then they'll go god tier yawn bore Until you all adore you Huss say goodbye since Haitus, my dear fans In a sweep, and a song the story will move along and the pain, yes the pain will start again**! Come on you Poor Unfortunate Fans Go ahead hail your Huss! I'm the creator Their Maker and I've got Eternal life*** If you speak against me then boohoo You Poor Unfortunate Trolls Life ***** for you If you want to go adventuring then you have to pay the toll **** it up and get to dying for me since I'm in full control! And with my precious power, dear All their heads will roll! These POOR UNFORTUNATE TROLLS!~
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