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"compel" poems
termites crawl in my stomach; you are my disarray, o soft and golden - take the curves of my feet, the freckle on my lip, and hang me on your wall, you compel my speechlessness. i'll keep guessing, guessing and unguessing. i am up all night over this.
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC
crush
My Heart and Mind had a discussion one day, About a man that they both knew quite well. The heated discussion continued for hours, Both with arguments meant to compel. A debate ensued between the two, With each taking a different perspective. The Heart believed the man to be true, And the Mind thought he was deceptive. Heart started the discussion with an obvious point, "He is sweet and gentle like no man before." Mind responded smugly, "That's great in the moment but how does he act after she's walked out the door?" Heart countered, already knowing the point being made. "Sure, he may not be able to write or call; He is busy with constant demands of his time. What he feels in his heart matters most of all." "I disagree," and Mind continued to say, "Actions mean far more than words alone. It is when words and actions are considered together that a man's true feelings are shown." "He has to compartmentalize to get through the day." Heart continued to defend his intentions, When they are together his feelings are real, but her insecurities span many dimensions." "It's funny you would mention compartmentalizing. Apparently your memory isn't as sharp as mine, He was once quoted as saying this was not his strength, proof that his statements don't always align." "You are cynical, suspicious and guarded." Heart was clearly tired of this dispute, "Those traits are clouding your judgement. He is genuine and telling the truth." "I think you are overlooking the obvious but I'll relax and stop doubting his intentions if he makes an effort to send a simple sign." Heart and Mind both wanting to prove their point and have the bragging rights of superiority. Mind sure that the man would disappoint her; Heart confident in his genuine sincerity. Both waited patiently for some type of gesture, Something to demonstrate that he really does care. Heart began to worry and whispered to herself, "Stay calm and trust that it's not just another affair." Patience prevailed and an email arrived, just as Heart had hoped and prayed. Mind, although disappointed by being proved wrong, was relieved and no longer afraid. Trust and calm filled her spirit when thinking of him, but it was both that won in the end. Maybe they were more than temporary lovers and could also be permanent friends.
0
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 10:45 AM UTC
Heart vs. Mind
My Heart and Mind had a discussion one day, About a man that they both knew quite well. The heated discussion continued for hours, Both with arguments meant to compel. A debate ensued between the two, With each taking a different perspective. The Heart believed the man to be true, And the Mind thought he was deceptive. Heart started the discussion with an obvious point, "He is sweet and gentle like no man before." Mind responded smugly, "That's great in the moment but how does he act after she's walked out the door?" Heart countered, already knowing the point being made. "Sure, he may not be able to write or call; He is busy with constant demands of his time. What he feels in his heart matters most of all." "I disagree," and Mind continued to say, "Actions mean far more than words alone. It is when words and actions are considered together that a man's true feelings are shown." "He has to compartmentalize to get through the day." Heart continued to defend his intentions, When they are together his feelings are real, but her insecurities span many dimensions." "It's funny you would mention compartmentalizing. Apparently your memory isn't as sharp as mine, He was once quoted as saying this was not his strength, proof that his statements don't always align." "You are cynical, suspicious and guarded." Heart was clearly tired of this dispute, "Those traits are clouding your judgement. He is genuine and telling the truth." "I think you are overlooking the obvious but I'll relax and stop doubting his intentions if he makes an effort to send a simple sign." Heart and Mind both wanting to prove their point and have the bragging rights of superiority. Mind sure that the man would disappoint her; Heart confident in his genuine sincerity. Both waited patiently for some type of gesture, Something to demonstrate that he really does care. Heart began to worry and whispered to herself, "Stay calm and trust that it's not just another affair." Patience prevailed and an email arrived, just as Heart had hoped and prayed. Mind, although disappointed by being proved wrong, was relieved and no longer afraid. Trust and calm filled her spirit when thinking of him, but it was both that won in the end. Maybe they were more than temporary lovers and could also be permanent friends.
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51
I want to compel, all the people to tell, of their travels, their hardships, b and times that went well. The love that was shared, and hate that was bared. Is a part of your life, if you truly cared. Twas fear that berated the souls of the earth. With pain contemplated, the flame lost its hearth. But when claims no one stated, begin to unearth. The stains we created, start losing their worth. For what is fear without worries to fuel it? Darkness may make it, but governments mule it. Realize, this fear isn't real, and misinformation, is all you've been fed. Then you'll start to ponder, is this life even real? Is there any legitimacy, in all the things that they've said? There is nothing hiding in your closet or bed. And there are less evil people, than in the news that you've read. This idea was created, so they wouldn't be blamed. But you won't be jaded, you cannot not be tamed. The people that faded, that still are unnamed. You fight for their memory, cause they'd do the same. You Stand for their ideals, And keep them all close. Feel all of the feels, cheerful or morose.
0
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 10:03 PM UTC
This Fear isn't real
Two fine films: The Lost City and Blood Diamond. I joined Blood Diamond during a village massacre and said to my wife A gun in every home. Those devils would think twice before razing the village and seizing the boys. A well-regulated militia. The local militia the most interesting moment in a strong film with motive (economic, emotional), action (chases,       fights) and a **** sexless love story. Use of violence by the local militia for a limited purpose: protect the       community, the young from the janjaweed. The crop from the **** Limited scope and defensive posture but armed and coordinated, cooperative, the men (and the women)       side by side. Warriors at the gate, you will not run, you will not bargain. Just violence = limited scope, defensive posture. Great music. Cuba, Africa. The Lost City, when the communists tell the club owner under threat       of violence No saxophones in the band. The saxophone! Invented by a Belgian--Look what the Belgians are doing in the       Congo! When the state's violence is turned against the citizenry for non-violent acts. This quiet neighborhood, July, undergirded by violence, force. That's a given-- any farmer, custodian, EMT will tell you that. Without just violence Gandhi's scope, and King's, might be vanishingly limited, negligible (but not non-existent)?                                                        Regarding King the matter is simple -- he was non-violent but dependent upon federal force to counter the South's violence. No doubt without the larger force, the non-violent would be       overwhelmed by southern violence. Here, non-violence was a tactic, not an ethic. Gandhi, however, had no violent partner to protect him from the       British. Or did he? 1. There was the potential violence of the population, which Gandhi     restrained but could release which the British feared, and 2. It was the restrained (limited scope) violence of the British that     allowed Gandhi to exist rather than be extinguished--this restraint     was a (British) cultural imperative (limited scope) as well as     emanating from Britain's view of India as a protectorate and     valued citizen of the United Kingdom (defensive posture). What about violence or threat of violence to compel compliance with       community as in mortgage foreclosure, driving without license, drug possession. Perhaps it is necessary violence to maintain orderly commerce, the       common space, and preempt bad behaviors associated with       otherwise neutral, private acts. The defensive posture is the common good; the limited scope is       forgoing deadly force. But the citizen, too, must maintain a disciplined, armed non-violence, in case the state (the janjaweed) engages in an unjust, autoimmune       violence. Hence, a gun in every home.
0
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
A Gun in Every Home
Two fine films: The Lost City and Blood Diamond. I joined Blood Diamond during a village massacre and said to my wife A gun in every home. Those devils would think twice before razing the village and seizing the boys. A well-regulated militia. The local militia the most interesting moment in a strong film with motive (economic, emotional), action (chases,       fights) and a **** sexless love story. Use of violence by the local militia for a limited purpose: protect the       community, the young from the janjaweed. The crop from the **** Limited scope and defensive posture but armed and coordinated, cooperative, the men (and the women)       side by side. Warriors at the gate, you will not run, you will not bargain. Just violence = limited scope, defensive posture. Great music. Cuba, Africa. The Lost City, when the communists tell the club owner under threat       of violence No saxophones in the band. The saxophone! Invented by a Belgian--Look what the Belgians are doing in the       Congo! When the state's violence is turned against the citizenry for non-violent acts. This quiet neighborhood, July, undergirded by violence, force. That's a given-- any farmer, custodian, EMT will tell you that. Without just violence Gandhi's scope, and King's, might be vanishingly limited, negligible (but not non-existent)?                                                        Regarding King the matter is simple -- he was non-violent but dependent upon federal force to counter the South's violence. No doubt without the larger force, the non-violent would be       overwhelmed by southern violence. Here, non-violence was a tactic, not an ethic. Gandhi, however, had no violent partner to protect him from the       British. Or did he? 1. There was the potential violence of the population, which Gandhi     restrained but could release which the British feared, and 2. It was the restrained (limited scope) violence of the British that     allowed Gandhi to exist rather than be extinguished--this restraint     was a (British) cultural imperative (limited scope) as well as     emanating from Britain's view of India as a protectorate and     valued citizen of the United Kingdom (defensive posture). What about violence or threat of violence to compel compliance with       community as in mortgage foreclosure, driving without license, drug possession. Perhaps it is necessary violence to maintain orderly commerce, the       common space, and preempt bad behaviors associated with       otherwise neutral, private acts. The defensive posture is the common good; the limited scope is       forgoing deadly force. But the citizen, too, must maintain a disciplined, armed non-violence, in case the state (the janjaweed) engages in an unjust, autoimmune       violence. Hence, a gun in every home.
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58
I am a supreme Light framed being Who leaves ferrari's In the dust I am sorry for your Jealousy as I am Totally terrific And love wearing My fabulous coat Fiercely independent I Imprint the air with My personal spots My proud individuality Nothing out of reach I wait for something to inspire As I hunt lightly Positioning intelligently And quickly Pads on fire I grab the ground As I grip the world With the sharpest claw As evolving and revolving Forces compel me with desire My vibrant cells flicker Waiting for the right trigger Spinning and twisting They collapse into air As I rush and rush chasing and chasing My focus still like stone Lands lightly like a feather As I am clear as Diamond or glass Empty of thoughts I am a tunnel The wind blows through As I run and run Soft and agile I can quickly change Direction or pace Perfect balance my Tail acts as a fulcrum It is as though a Silver thread was attached From high up in heaven Moving on an electric circuit I am lightning through the air Stretching like elastic Expanding into spaces I become a mile long Reaching and Reaching Into proud new places Slipping through the air As though someone Had oiled my hair I slide weightless Air born on ice skates As I catch my hare With her swiftness We find she lifts us With her fire we catch desire
0
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
CHEETAH
I feel at home in the liminal        in the space inbetween, between past, future, reality       fantasy, this, that.   In the liminal, the past and         future lap around me, demanding waves that climb      high and share their spray. The salt water clings to my          hair, stiffens it like straw and I stay, ungrowing in              the liminal. I live between thresholds             on the threshold and sometimes the tension          tugs and tears and rips my fingernails, my hair                my skin. Thresholds are supposed             to hurt, to push, to compel but it’s where I rest and               make my home. The liminal does not rip me apart as it should. It’s hollow in the liminal             a void that digs my insides out. It’s a cave in there                 walls of apathy and dread. My mind grows in on                   itself and I live in it, where it plays in the                    liminal. It cannot survive                          beyond the threshold so I stay in the house                   where the windows are clear and the doors                      are unlocked. Nothing is keeping me in but                        myself. I feel at home in                            the liminal, where the tensions hurt and erode                              but it’s safe here, or safe enough                               in the space inbetween. I fear the sea and the tides so I stay on the shore. It hurts but not as much as it should.
0
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 6:35 PM UTC
- then on the shore
I feel at home in the liminal        in the space inbetween, between past, future, reality       fantasy, this, that.   In the liminal, the past and         future lap around me, demanding waves that climb      high and share their spray. The salt water clings to my          hair, stiffens it like straw and I stay, ungrowing in              the liminal. I live between thresholds             on the threshold and sometimes the tension          tugs and tears and rips my fingernails, my hair                my skin. Thresholds are supposed             to hurt, to push, to compel but it’s where I rest and               make my home. The liminal does not rip me apart as it should. It’s hollow in the liminal             a void that digs my insides out. It’s a cave in there                 walls of apathy and dread. My mind grows in on                   itself and I live in it, where it plays in the                    liminal. It cannot survive                          beyond the threshold so I stay in the house                   where the windows are clear and the doors                      are unlocked. Nothing is keeping me in but                        myself. I feel at home in                            the liminal, where the tensions hurt and erode                              but it’s safe here, or safe enough                               in the space inbetween. I fear the sea and the tides so I stay on the shore. It hurts but not as much as it should.
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25
I like to stare listlessly At the night sky for long Durations of time, as if my Gaze will compel the stars To align to breathtaking ends. Alas, they stay put,budge they Don’t, a sneer streaks my Face as my pride’s hurt. And a tear droplet materializes On the corner of my eye. Maybe the moon prefers her Star friends to remain as they’re.
0
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 3:35 AM UTC
A star-spangled night sky.
all my life ive only thought of one thing YOU you are why i got an education why i tried so hard to make beautiful things with my hands why i got dressed up why i learned to sing and dance why i never stopped trying to make a living why i always went to the gym and worked out to be diamond hard why i was polite or inconsolable why i ran seven miles a day why i tried to be charming why i could never stop playing with myself why i got through james joyce why i learned conversational hypnosis neuro linguistics magick and witch craft to invoke a spell that would compel YOU to dance the wiggle wiggle naked from hot rhythms and slow melodic sways as i prayed burning blood red candles during the darkest moon for adorations with endless masturbations to your beautiful *** and feet for tender red lipped mercies kisses kisses kisses because you are beauty piqued from your golden angelic head soft silken hair to your sweet pink arched feet and twinkling painted toes magnetized to yank my eyes and be your **** boy *** toy my goddess glitter **** queen of heaven all paradise any man needs BUT sometimes i couldn't have YOU and it velvet crushed me taught me hopelessness broke my will gave me fear made me cry and shiver inside tore my heart to smithereens twisted my in-nerds like jagged metal melting me as i spiraled down into madness all burning veins of fire until inferiority dragged deep suffocating me shuddery like winters midnight freeze and howling winds through hollow desolations marrow-less bones
0
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
Vulnerable
all my life ive only thought of one thing YOU you are why i got an education why i tried so hard to make beautiful things with my hands why i got dressed up why i learned to sing and dance why i never stopped trying to make a living why i always went to the gym and worked out to be diamond hard why i was polite or inconsolable why i ran seven miles a day why i tried to be charming why i could never stop playing with myself why i got through james joyce why i learned conversational hypnosis neuro linguistics magick and witch craft to invoke a spell that would compel YOU to dance the wiggle wiggle naked from hot rhythms and slow melodic sways as i prayed burning blood red candles during the darkest moon for adorations with endless masturbations to your beautiful *** and feet for tender red lipped mercies kisses kisses kisses because you are beauty piqued from your golden angelic head soft silken hair to your sweet pink arched feet and twinkling painted toes magnetized to yank my eyes and be your **** boy *** toy my goddess glitter **** queen of heaven all paradise any man needs BUT sometimes i couldn't have YOU and it velvet crushed me taught me hopelessness broke my will gave me fear made me cry and shiver inside tore my heart to smithereens twisted my in-nerds like jagged metal melting me as i spiraled down into madness all burning veins of fire until inferiority dragged deep suffocating me shuddery like winters midnight freeze and howling winds through hollow desolations marrow-less bones
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83
I admit the Pressures you Three must pass Your own Barometres took quite a toll From Stubborn Demands your ****** Peers had Compel you to Shrink and keep on a Roll But there are VALUES; Those Trusted Elders In Humble Present their Words will sure Guide All you need is some Time for yourselves, Brothers Such that its Petals will unwrap for your Sight Kind and apt Admiral! May your Shoes fill Set their Braces to walk they know can Trust So even if Hooties make Milk-Thoughts spill A Shielding Light to soap their Dunged Shells, must. This is just an Advice. Again from a Friend Whose busy Torrents tries to Help does rend.
0
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - FOURTY-THREE - TOM DALEY
I was on the way to find out my destination, It was a rugged terrain without shed of trees on the road side, Burning Sun shine on the top of my head and Stony patches below my foot, On a junction of the two roads, You came out! With ….. “Generous green of forest in our face, Deepest blue of ocean in your eyes, Melodious wind of mountain valley on your hair and Splendid light of the don on your smile”, As if this new path after this junction going to lead me to the nature’s own womb. Conversely, when we face each other you asked ‘Who I am?’ and ‘where I am going to?’ I was surprised; no one poses such questions to me on this long walk, But I have already comes a crossed the Security man with gun in their hand, The Beggar with stony beggaring plate in their hand, The Food vendors with hot food in their basket, The Knowledge tycoon with bag of books on their shoulder, The Political guardian with embryonic power in their muscle, No one asked any thing! Not even look at me! Probably for them either ‘I was insignificant or invisible!’ But your questions, Compel me to think about my identity, I don’t have a search engine, to take help  from  the world wide web of identity, So, when observing you with sensors of Imagination, Emotion and Cognition, I found my lost identity in you, As your child everything rooted in you, Than I started to walk with you Just to get the aspiration of living planet and To protect you from the spite of ownerships, rationality, consumerism, and demonstrationist humanity. But after a while, Every one started to pose question, “Who I am?” “Why I am walking with you?” “How I get the right to do so?” Than I replied my scruples enlighten me to do so! No one understands ‘what I replied?’ Now the Political guardian of the society starts a campaign,   The knowledge baron prepared software for this operation, The beggar and food vendor distributing the literature with illustrative interpretation, That…..   “People like me are threat to the society”! “This is an evil force of our society”! Tomorrow….. The security man going to declare a ‘decree’ on Emotion, Conscience, Humanity and Love.  □□
0
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 8:10 AM UTC
On the cross road
I was on the way to find out my destination, It was a rugged terrain without shed of trees on the road side, Burning Sun shine on the top of my head and Stony patches below my foot, On a junction of the two roads, You came out! With ….. “Generous green of forest in our face, Deepest blue of ocean in your eyes, Melodious wind of mountain valley on your hair and Splendid light of the don on your smile”, As if this new path after this junction going to lead me to the nature’s own womb. Conversely, when we face each other you asked ‘Who I am?’ and ‘where I am going to?’ I was surprised; no one poses such questions to me on this long walk, But I have already comes a crossed the Security man with gun in their hand, The Beggar with stony beggaring plate in their hand, The Food vendors with hot food in their basket, The Knowledge tycoon with bag of books on their shoulder, The Political guardian with embryonic power in their muscle, No one asked any thing! Not even look at me! Probably for them either ‘I was insignificant or invisible!’ But your questions, Compel me to think about my identity, I don’t have a search engine, to take help  from  the world wide web of identity, So, when observing you with sensors of Imagination, Emotion and Cognition, I found my lost identity in you, As your child everything rooted in you, Than I started to walk with you Just to get the aspiration of living planet and To protect you from the spite of ownerships, rationality, consumerism, and demonstrationist humanity. But after a while, Every one started to pose question, “Who I am?” “Why I am walking with you?” “How I get the right to do so?” Than I replied my scruples enlighten me to do so! No one understands ‘what I replied?’ Now the Political guardian of the society starts a campaign,   The knowledge baron prepared software for this operation, The beggar and food vendor distributing the literature with illustrative interpretation, That…..   “People like me are threat to the society”! “This is an evil force of our society”! Tomorrow….. The security man going to declare a ‘decree’ on Emotion, Conscience, Humanity and Love.  □□
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51
I try to remain calm Simple conversation fuels curiosity My focus is acute I want to be reckless I attempt to seem distant I am hiding Like a predator circling prey I am waiting Leaping prematurely could be costly My hunger justifies risk I want to be reckless Outside influences Compel me to behave appropriately I am screaming Secrets disguised with lies I am hunting myself I want her exposed For I am exposed I am vindictive I want to pull and rip S+rip her of shame I am burning I want to take her in front of the world I want to be reckless © Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved
0
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 5:25 AM UTC
"Reckless"
In school I never understood No, I never could what the point of it was. What is the point? I learned about math and science; Good God, why am I so defiant? So call me lazy. Tell me my IQ is below average. Well here's an image: I'm actually smart I just hate being a slave to the system. I almost missed 'em. But they caught me and now they got me and all that I intended to defend is left on the side of the street. I'm rebelling while they're trying to compel me to stay put in my seat like a ******* robot. Well, I will not. I gotta break outta this prison but where's my bailsman? This is my decision and I've chosen not to be broken. My mind will escape unscathed while yours will continue to be lathed by those mechanical words that they feed to you like birds. And what's worse: Is that you eat it. You accept them. You swallow down that indiscretion. What a burden but I don't feel sorry for you tainted mind because you chose it when I warned you that they'd change you. And now you've become a slave to their holocaust and you're so lost. You can't even think your own thoughts. It's despicable. And it's not permissible. You're stuck in their Utopia and you're praising their allah. Well God knows, it's not right. So you gotta ignite all your original thoughts and morals cause honey they aren't your idols. They are so pretentious and utterly blinded. Stuck under their bibles but they aren't angels. Break free from the system come join my anthem. Let's start a rally and get more allies. Join me in my plea to be all that we can be. To stand for what we choose. I promise we will not loose.
0
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 3:49 PM UTC
Standing Up
In school I never understood No, I never could what the point of it was. What is the point? I learned about math and science; Good God, why am I so defiant? So call me lazy. Tell me my IQ is below average. Well here's an image: I'm actually smart I just hate being a slave to the system. I almost missed 'em. But they caught me and now they got me and all that I intended to defend is left on the side of the street. I'm rebelling while they're trying to compel me to stay put in my seat like a ******* robot. Well, I will not. I gotta break outta this prison but where's my bailsman? This is my decision and I've chosen not to be broken. My mind will escape unscathed while yours will continue to be lathed by those mechanical words that they feed to you like birds. And what's worse: Is that you eat it. You accept them. You swallow down that indiscretion. What a burden but I don't feel sorry for you tainted mind because you chose it when I warned you that they'd change you. And now you've become a slave to their holocaust and you're so lost. You can't even think your own thoughts. It's despicable. And it's not permissible. You're stuck in their Utopia and you're praising their allah. Well God knows, it's not right. So you gotta ignite all your original thoughts and morals cause honey they aren't your idols. They are so pretentious and utterly blinded. Stuck under their bibles but they aren't angels. Break free from the system come join my anthem. Let's start a rally and get more allies. Join me in my plea to be all that we can be. To stand for what we choose. I promise we will not loose.
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64
There, somewhere, is a place so familiar, that you've forgotten and you didn't even know. In this place is a building, decrepit, with walls well worn, built with the least experienced of hands. These hands, now gone, showed a tenderness in their craftsmanship, a love now forlorn as the walls Walls held up with the determination of creeping moss that spreads through the corners of the halls. Halls so sprawling as to confuse those who dare to come in and seek the treasures within These treasures hidden, repressed and no longer precious, a sentinel to those left behind. And these treasures you found within these halls bound by these godforsaken walls built by those who know, knew, and would never have Reside in a building beyond all paths That calls to you and all that you believe To compel you in, so you'll never leave.
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Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 4:19 AM UTC
Determination
The cocktail dress split hope down the screen Letting that reoccurring dream compel me Into memories of you The clink of my cup Shattered sobriety with the pain of daybreak The ice looks like crystal but only something that will disappear and overflow your glass is standing at attention The bar stool cracked, empty and the faux leather ripped, and torn Cougars and MILFs strut down the bar top Scanning tonight’s bachelors I sit behind, for my dress is long and flannel Heavy, hot making me sweat and stink I run faster than a cheetah in my mind Tearing doors and bridges apart Speeding towards the sunrise Attempting for the *** of gold The cocktail drips from the table on to the floor A puddle I will eventually slip from Hair in my face My ankle sundress reaped with alcohol I stand up, look around Towel? But all I see is you Walking back slowly retreating to the door Leaving me to deal and regret the decisions I so poorly execute
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May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 5:29 PM UTC
The Cocktail Dress
As you ask I see your fear, your complexion turned pink. I wonder what you think, asking me to make it all easy. Foolish human with a request out of reach, I’ve watched you From the second you breathed, And this evil spewing from your heart is hard to believe. I’ve watched over the years, your smile has disappeared from ear to ear And flipped opposite like heaven and hell. I can feel your sense of disdain, and how you scurry for your shell. I’d compel you to find yourself, But that’s for you to seek. Not to be slaughtered like sheep. You are a foolish human, and your request for death is denied. I’ve decided against it. it’s not your time.
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Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 9:54 AM UTC
Request out of Reach ..
Law, say the gardeners, is the sun, Law is the one All gardeners obey To-morrow, yesterday, to-day. Law is the wisdom of the old, The impotent grandfathers feebly scold; The grandchildren put out a treble tongue, Law is the senses of the young. Law, says the priest with a priestly look, Expounding to an unpriestly people, Law is the words in my priestly book, Law is my pulpit and my steeple. Law, says the judge as he looks down his nose, Speaking clearly and most severely, Law is as I've told you before, Law is as you know I suppose, Law is but let me explain it once more, Law is The Law. Yet law-abiding scholars write: Law is neither wrong nor right, Law is only crimes Punished by places and by times, Law is the clothes men wear Anytime, anywhere, Law is Good morning and Good night. Others say, Law is our Fate; Others say, Law is our State; Others say, others say Law is no more, Law has gone away. And always the loud angry crowd, Very angry and very loud, Law is We, And always the soft idiot softly Me. If we, dear, know we know no more Than they about the Law, If I no more than you Know what we should and should not do Except that all agree Gladly or miserably That the Law is And that all know this If therefore thinking it absurd To identify Law with some other word, Unlike so many men I cannot say Law is again, No more than they can we suppress The universal wish to guess Or slip out of our own position Into an unconcerned condition. Although I can at least confine Your vanity and mine To stating timidly A timid similarity, We shall boast anyway: Like love I say. Like love we don't know where or why, Like love we can't compel or fly, Like love we often weep, Like love we seldom keep.
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Law Like Love
Law, say the gardeners, is the sun, Law is the one All gardeners obey To-morrow, yesterday, to-day. Law is the wisdom of the old, The impotent grandfathers feebly scold; The grandchildren put out a treble tongue, Law is the senses of the young. Law, says the priest with a priestly look, Expounding to an unpriestly people, Law is the words in my priestly book, Law is my pulpit and my steeple. Law, says the judge as he looks down his nose, Speaking clearly and most severely, Law is as I've told you before, Law is as you know I suppose, Law is but let me explain it once more, Law is The Law. Yet law-abiding scholars write: Law is neither wrong nor right, Law is only crimes Punished by places and by times, Law is the clothes men wear Anytime, anywhere, Law is Good morning and Good night. Others say, Law is our Fate; Others say, Law is our State; Others say, others say Law is no more, Law has gone away. And always the loud angry crowd, Very angry and very loud, Law is We, And always the soft idiot softly Me. If we, dear, know we know no more Than they about the Law, If I no more than you Know what we should and should not do Except that all agree Gladly or miserably That the Law is And that all know this If therefore thinking it absurd To identify Law with some other word, Unlike so many men I cannot say Law is again, No more than they can we suppress The universal wish to guess Or slip out of our own position Into an unconcerned condition. Although I can at least confine Your vanity and mine To stating timidly A timid similarity, We shall boast anyway: Like love I say. Like love we don't know where or why, Like love we can't compel or fly, Like love we often weep, Like love we seldom keep.
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Humanity has no support to duty Both contrary in dealing and punctuality: Non-the-less deny each claims still their validity Former needs emotional skip where later regularity! Humanity is a thing roundly soul concern Fancies of many idles, despotic and obligated. Estimate not to beautify active approach return; Deserve aid remarkable quiet pleasing black arts. Duty declares the deed must accomplish statutable, Gratitude, greed and gratification are sub-judice here-of: A crazy caution compel to foil inapplicable Yonker's pride, old hand cultivated doctrinal of. Certain condition humanity plays role of pre-eminence Duty looks wanting help out of heels, Depending on probation passion of sincerity convince, Rejecting deep binder satisfactorily set aside exceeds. If stands duty and humanity both together, Glorifies the spirit immortal as His name And also deal showing clean impersonality further, None appeal to mercy could not dare blame.
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Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 4:14 AM UTC
Duty And Humanity
procrastinating is my hobby, ask someone if you don't believe me , baby i lay around as i please & work at my own leisure, incredibly you fail to understand i am me and i love more then like the way that i am- gorgeous courageous coco golden skin, painfully i know you feel the threat of my momentous appeal keeps you you & yeah you -- mystified. guaranteed your days are filled with shock and frustration, haa haa hee how very exciting to me seeing your not as experienced as I, unlicensed to tame what i'd never give freely, repetitiously you've played the game, failure must be a sweet pill sallowed whole huh? adequately i compel my strengths -- my naivety makes my appeal that more interesting, call me uniquely imperfections rarely made in to what many can never comprehend, my life is my dialogue to my very own daily soap opera la di da da-- it's more then my sultry walk as i pass you on bye. in this corrupted jungle you have to win or be inhibited by what others may call taboos, whew weee your so serious, chasing prey only to tease-- lingering doubts? catch me-- i bet you can't. innocently the line's been crossed yet speak not of what should be! only-- this-- is what you'll know ; procrastinating is my hobby! I Am The Lioness! (some may be lost on what i wrote&say; but ok lol) Always Me Ayeshah
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Mar 24, 2010
Mar 24, 2010 at 8:38 PM UTC
I Am The Lioness (a true Leo)
Those envied places which do know her well, And are so scornful of this lonely place, Even now for once are emptied of her grace: Nowhere but here she is: and while Love’s spell From his predominant presence doth compel All alien hours, an outworn populace, The hours of Love fill full the echoing space With sweet confederate music favourable. Now many memories make solicitous The delicate love-lines of her mouth, till, lit With quivering fire, the words take wing from it; As here between our kisses we sit thus Speaking of things remembered, and so sit Speechless while things forgotten call to us.
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3.2k
A Day Of Love
Things in-between sometimes lost, Things not recognized at great cost... Things that compel, Things that make us swell, Things at times we fail to tell... Things we know, Things that flow, things we do not show… Things we wish we could control, An unrealized future an aspiring goal... Sometimes very real things are things Unseen, Without tangibility on any physical scale or scene... Nonetheless they still Impress, Realities beyond what we all may possess... However without these " Invisible things" would we really exist? Kid yourself not, please try not To insist… J.I.F.
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Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC
"INVISIBLE THINGS"
Bite of the lip and bedroom eyes, Craving this long tongue of mine, What do you desire, my Queen? I'll make you squirm in ecstasy. Your eyes are closed, the moans, the sighs, You sense my lips, the kisses, the bites, Clawing my skin, wanting more. Guide me with your hand, where you want me to be. Where will I kiss, where should I go next? The lip, the neck or maybe the breast? The possibilities are endless. Imagine the best, I'll be even better. I'll descend on you, Lower, lower, lower, I'll go a little slower. Savor the time we have together. I'm going to enjoy you. The inner thigh, closer and closer, Around and about, tongue brushing over, Your strong scent taking me over. In. I'll let it go wild, you feel the heat, Of my tongue going between the sheets, Licking the creases, the walls, the treat. I won't stop until you let go. You can take a guess. There's so many things I can do to you. There's so many things you want me to do. But there's no fun in that. I can't read minds. I am no psychic. But I can listen, I can take your order. So let me serve you. But you'll need to command me, Compel me to continue. So tell me what you want. I'll be your main dish. I'll make you full. I'll be your dessert. I'll make you come for more. I'll make you beg for it.
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
Command Me.
Fickle Done in mentioned light... Through and due the common, the still Notice of compliment, a comment of right None The more we save, from the proof of simplicity Story's and a sulking tree, the seldom of fun in the sun Turned to universality, with the eyes of anarchy Amend Sour and refined, refrain from the beauty of compel? The pout of another gift and the choice of feeling's substance Over the quiet since, that has become ours to weal... Things And the duty of a desire in worthing heaven, the hell of unity Given me, and the role of synchronicity a resolve, to sweeten Time is a daring host, to assure even the tiniest of needs, vicinity Arduous Threshold in the lime, the boding of every else, in the book Staid and remembering decorum, like a hell is every cause When we are the understanding home, to a willing look... Force Are we a stir of responsibility in the arms of voice, or its cope? Timid as we are, the calling of it all, is a wisdom's source? Look hard for a nature? when you can have a friend for it's love... Caring True to mellower stares, the throe of uncanny light Made from the none, are we to survive a decision, so faring The response of decency, that a swim with the devil, is also right... Liberty Loan the call, to me for a universe's song Trust is a walking might of the deed, asking the seldom, evil's Is it me, or the shade in a wishes stir, the tout we held all along?
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Oct 10, 2022
Oct 10, 2022 at 4:45 PM UTC
I Found James Dean, In A Bottle Of Milk...
HEAR YE! HEAR YE! SALUTATIONS TO ALL THOSE PRESENT! GREETINGS! HENCEFORTH AND FOREVER MORE ... JUNE THE TWELVE SHALL BE KNOWN AMONG ALL HERE AT HELLO POETRY (AND ALL POETS WORLDWIDE) AS "TEMPORAL FUGUE DAY" TO WIT: You will be compelled to go to McDonald's ... on this date and at any time. As you step to the counter to place your order you MUST speak only in rhyme! You can order salads ... a burger with cheese ... breakfast or filet-o-fish Choice of drink is surely yours ... order any and all that you wish! Just make certain that ALL that you say ... in the spirit of poets EVERYWHERE comes out in a rhyming way! Let's show them solidarity Tell the world that we are here ... with wisdom and harmony finding love and facing fear. I further compel you to your language you must translate ... this declaration so that all the poets in the world will know to do this on this date. Not just to show them our pride so fierce and that it isn't just any rumor. Let's show the world that poets are amazing and even have senses of humor! So ... Plot out your order and what you will say. Let's go and have fun with this. Let's make it OUR day! WE ARE HERE!
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Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 8:20 AM UTC
***HELLO POETRY WORLDWIDE FLASH MOB DECLARATION!***
He looked in all His wisdom from the throne Down on that humble boy who kept the sheep, And sent a dove; the dove returned alone: Youth liked the music, but soon fell asleep. But He had planned such future for the youth: Surely, His duty now was to compel. For later he would come to love the truth, And own his gratitude. His eagle fell. It did not work. His conversation bored The boy who yawned and whistled and made faces, And wriggled free from fatherly embraces; But with the eagle he was always willing To go where it suggested, and adored And learnt from it so many ways of killing.
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2.7k
Ganymede