"conceiving" poems
*We are all painters
Holding a color palette
Conceiving a painting
It’s how we mix the colors
Depending on our imagination
Whether we paint happiness
Or scenes of saddened gray
Situations yield the paintings
Sometimes splashing all colors
Or else black colors gloom
Universe has mostly dark energy
Yet, we have found our colors
To paint our abode, we inhabit
No matter, colors of joy and sorrow
We celebrate all colors
We are all painters, wielding the brush
To create new colors of hope*
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
I have studied the tight curls on the back of your neck
moving away from me
beyond anger or failure
your face in the evening schools of longing
through mornings of wish and ripen
we were always saying goodbye
in the blood in the bone over coffee
before dashing for elevators going
in opposite directions
without goodbyes.
Do not remember me as a bridge nor a roof
as the maker of legends
nor as a trap
door to that world
where black and white clericals
hang on the edge of beauty in five oclock elevators
twitching their shoulders to avoid other flesh
and now
there is someone to speak for them
moving away from me into tomorrows
morning of wish and ripen
your goodbye is a promise of lightning
in the last angels hand
unwelcome and warning
the sands have run out against us
we were rewarded by journeys
into desire
into mornings alone
where excuse and endurance mingle
conceiving decision.
Do not remember me
as disaster
nor as the keeper of secrets
I am a fellow rider in the cattle cars
watching
you move slowly out of my bed
saying we cannot waste time
only ourselves.
7.9k
I had as lief be embraced by the portier of the hotel
As to get no more from the moonlight
Than your moist hand.
Be the voice of the night and Florida in my ear.
Use dasky words and dusky images.
Darken your speech.
Speak, even, as if I did not hear you speaking,
But spoke for you perfectly in my thoughts,
Conceiving words,
As the night conceives the sea-sound in silence,
And out of the droning sibilants makes
A serenade.
Say, puerile, that the buzzards crouch on the ridge-pole
and sleep with one eye watching the stars fall
Beyond Key West.
Say that the palms are clear in the total blue.
Are clear and are obscure; that it is night;
That the moon shines.
7.8k
(Rock Lake, Canada)
In this country there is neither measure nor balance
To redress the dominance of rocks and woods,
The passage, say, of these man-shaming clouds.
No gesture of yours or mine could catch their attention,
No word make them carry water or fire the kindling
Like local trolls in the spell of a superior being.
Well, one wearies of the Public Gardens: one wants a vacation
Where trees and clouds and animals pay no notice;
Away from the labeled elms, the tame tea-roses.
It took three days driving north to find a cloud
The polite skies over Boston couldn't possibly accommodate.
Here on the last frontier of the big, brash spirit
The horizons are too far off to be chummy as uncles;
The colors assert themselves with a sort of vengeance.
Each day concludes in a huge splurge of vermilions
And night arrives in one gigantic step.
It is comfortable, for a change, to mean so little.
These rocks offer no purchase to herbage or people:
They are conceiving a dynasty of perfect cold.
In a month we'll wonder what plates and forks are for.
I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here.
The Pilgrims and Indians might never have happened.
Planets pulse in the lake like bright amoebas;
The pines blot our voices up in their lightest sighs.
Around our tent the old simplicities sough
Sleepily as Lethe, trying to get in.
We'll wake blank-brained as water in the dawn.
3.8k
*Electric Dreams Of My Radioactive Ex,
Bio-Digital Jazz Tap Dancing Us Into ***
Lucid Infatuations Infused In Whiskey,
Cupid Fairytales Conceiving Frisky,
A Perpetual Beauty Smoldered In Ecstatic Bliss,
Sublime Sins Between Her Rosy Lips With Velvet Kiss,
Romantic Burns Galvanized In Her ****** Desires,
Seductive Stardust Enchanting My Feisty Fires,
Encoded Serenity In Her Decoded Virginity,
Recoding Obscenities Of Her Fragrant Sexuality,
Hazel Echoes Raining Intimate Bouquets,
Rekindling, Her Drug That Fondles In Her Moaning Glaze,
Enraptured Catalysts Animating In Her Cuddles,
Euphoric Elations Climaxing Into Her Satin Snuggles.
- 02:17AM -*
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
Right in the physics lecture
Mentally dreaming,
Thinking of a phenomenon
I am day dreaming,
In the front seat of the corner
And all the conceiving,
Thinking of a phenomenon
Cause I am day dreaming,
Sometimes the teacher gives a bang,
Mentions my name, and takes away my tang,
Little does he know that the lecture he’s singing
has a thinner bandwidth than mine.
So, right in this fellow’s lecture, mentally beaming,
thinking of a phenomenon, I am day dreaming.
Sometimes the future bike is back,
Other times, the actress who’s not black,
Sometimes the ex girlfriend whose new boyfriend,
for whom we say, “Hey he looks like a ***
Moreover, you think about the dating,
Was she pleased or was she just faking
Next date in café coffee day
Or the recessional snack corner away
So, right in the fellow’s lecture, you keep on dreaming
Think of your fond hope
And keep on day dreaming.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 8:53 AM UTC
I had as lief be embraced by the portier of the hotel
As to get no more from the moonlight
Than your moist hand.
Be the voice of the night and Florida in my ear.
Use dasky words and dusky images.
Darken your speech.
Speak, even, as if I did not hear you speaking,
But spoke for you perfectly in my thoughts,
Conceiving words,
As the night conceives the sea-sound in silence,
And out of the droning sibilants makes
A serenade.
Say, puerile, that the buzzards crouch on the ridge-pole
and sleep with one eye watching the stars fall
Beyond Key West.
Say that the palms are clear in the total blue.
Are clear and are obscure; that it is night;
That the moon shines.
3.1k
Confusion
Deception
Life's possessions
Breathing
Conceiving
Life's bleeding
Mindless
Spineless
Life's unkindness
Careful
Tearful
Life's doubtful
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
You wish for me to put in words
What I have to say
Like the answers that I've given
On their own
Could never relay
They come and go
Touch on fate
Dissipate and replicate
The disingenuous nature
That you frequently necessitate
Extend your olive branch
Then act like you feed me
When the branches are famished
Needy, condescending and deceiving Conceiving that I'm the villain
When I don't respond to how you react
Like you could perpetuate in me
The supposition for your tact
The fact that you lack any original clarity
Is the reason I'd never reach to you
Like I was Seraphim
The simple reason
That I'm writing all of this
Is simply just to prove to you
That I don't have to convince
I don't have to persist
Rehash, then reminisce
Like treading through faded memories with you
Will satiate my daily fix
I resist
Because I know exactly where I'm headed And you insist because that truth
Is what keeps us separate
Every second
You playcate on a pretense
When your intentions are crystal clear
And I can't provide that service
Or serve that purpose
While I'm standing here
To be perfectly honest
I never promised you anything
All I did was sigh and reply
To how your heart would so readily sing
Then you project your insecurities
Directly to my face
As if I was the one who gave them rise
Within the first place
Protecting your manipulations
While contemplating your motives
Are exactly the reasons we're done
Before we even started
I'm sick of being a punching bag
For someone acting devoted
And now it's been denoted
I've written you off, this story is done
This time you're in the subject line
Because you are truly NOT the one
Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 12:45 AM UTC
when no objective is best for our protection
protecting ourselves would be the best direction
directing ourselves toward a progressive connection
connecting our minds to make a collective correction
correcting the obsessions that infect our perception
perceiving ourselves as the essence of conception
conceiving a brand new perspective of reception
receiving the blessing that we call perfection
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
~
Underneath a crushing moonlit
Roses are dancing in a glow garden
Cram of comeliness whispering through my pensive
Applaud an agitating mind of dragging love
That submerging under a poetic passion
A wild **** of beauty wishing to crave a romance
Stressing on mind that makes
Bubbles of emotions simultaneously,
Touching and filling the empty dreams
That essence of heaven creating the melody of divine music
Passing through the poet's nose and nails
Deep ache popping at the heart and stone
There render of love conceiving to catch a **** of heaven
A tangible gaiety that creates so surprising illusion
The glimmer chords becoming to splash
The utmost inflames growing to outburst,
Bursts into the fire of gaiety--
Psyche pouring a fathomless passion till the twilight
Where there I am dancing alone with my shadow,
Ah! my Love--
Oh! my Love ----
What a Crushing Moonlit!!
~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
Blue-grayish waves lap summer's sun-drenched beaches,
eternal, soothing rhythm, an enduring melody, into the soul it reaches.
Neighboring celestial bodies, conductors of the tides, creating eon's symphony,
embracing, pacifying music: a choral harmony.
Placid, glistening lake with fall moon's luminescent splendor,
silvery, reflective mirror, still and serene, lying quietly in slumber.
Bright, streaming rays, upon the surface, become as two entwined eternally,
brilliantly flowing: a beacon of tranquility.
White, pristine snow upon the meadow on a winter's early morning,
softly sown, caressing Mother Earth, pure and alluring.
Sol's rays shimmering on crystal flakes, a mosaic luminosity,
sparkling diamond facets: a blanket of serenity.
Dew-covered fields patched with spring's wild flowers,
dazzling array, vibrant and alive, displaying rainbow's colors.
A zephyr stirs bouquets of aromatic splendor, emerging reality,
a living portrait masterpiece--a canvas of vitality.
Nature, an ageless composer, conceiving kaleidoscope showcases,
perennial seasons casting actors on scores of different stages.
Wise is it, from time to time, to pause in awe and humble reverence,
and view a master artist's majestic, grand performance.
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 5:32 PM UTC
A couple becomes comfy...comatose
Their coffins carved carefully
At the cost of the cuticles
That cut the cloth concealing the cause of calumny.
Cut with claws
Claus? Santa has no clue
But the paws with the claws came from Cope,
The coyote cub who clubbed with truth.
Calm,
Palms clasped on Aphrodite's coffee cup
Caffrodite, cups
Cups that carry potential - kinetic, energy,
Crash!
...Chaos conceived carelessly
A ****** tear
This is the C-Section
Confused?
No concern...know care
Because you are capable
Superman,
Cape-able
But soon the caffeine kicks in,
And the common carotid is cooked
Killer
Compare now, casualties to cows...
Not so different
Still, the crowd plays casual
Aloof
So dream of a connection concentrate in a container
And swig
Constrict the fists and relax
To be carried off into the cosmos
Consumed by clouds of gas...
Below are the circus clowns
Coughing, conceiving, creating.
Is it a crime? To be cut off from contemplation?
Akin to Galileo, craniums will roll
While eyes stay still completely
A quiet kiss to the clavicle of our collective cast
Soothes the commotion to
This clamoring performance
A hush to this cacophony
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
Important to be convinced before conceiving something new
Time has always remained important.
Important is the present moment in time;
important is the available time,
important because everything needs to be done within a stipulated time frame.
Every now and then there is always something to think of,
something new to think upon.
Every now and then there is something that goes on in the mind,
something different comes across the mind.
Important is that something that goes on in the mind
Important because it connects the past, present and also the future
Important is that moment in time when something concrete gets figured out in the mind with regards to the future.
Facts never need any conviction,
so does truth,
both of which never require any conviction.
Thoughts keep coming and going one after another
Positive attitude, positive mindset is what makes all the difference.
Think of past and present along the line of all that is going on in the mind keeping in mind an uncertain future.
The past will remain a thing of past while the future will get ascertained.
In any case,
at any point of time and at any stage,
it’s always important to have a conviction of own with regards to what needs to be done.
A convinced mind always knows the kind of efforts that are required and also puts in the same
A convinced mind knows the exact direction in which to move with regards to an aim that has been set, so as to refrain from all the negative thoughts and negative way of thinking.
Having a conviction of own makes all the difference,
a convinced mind can solve, resolve and settle everything and all that comes along it’s way,
if not by the way of it's thinking,
then by putting in the much needed extra effort,
which can also be the need of the hour.
So always have a conviction of own and then step ahead.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 5:12 AM UTC
What is the meaning of existence?
existing only by another's assistance
assisting you to go the distance
distancing you from life's persistence
what is the meaning of creation?
creating a life long vacation
vacationing in the land of starvation
starving to let go of temptation
what is the meaning of conception?
conceiving our own deception
deceptive practice of perception
percieving the meaning of our inception
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 8:50 AM UTC
It takes time to find the right words
Conceiving them so they may blossom
A construct of words, a piece of art
The perfectionist hidden inside a poets heart
Though impatient he is
Eager to find the most beautiful words
He's rushing it, he's writing too fast
A bad poem he wrote, he's seeing aghast
The impatient poet retries again
A simple relapse it won't happen once more
As he's rushing, he didn't learn from the past
Poetry needs time, he noticed at last
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 9:34 AM UTC
Silence Speaks to us
Whispers Creep across our beings
And dance through the pain of melancholy
That we have named
Quiet
It can strike a blow in our memories
And still land softly
In the weakness of our hearts
Holding it ever closer
It makes our heart and mind lie together
With passion
Forcing its way out and
Conceiving the very justice of emotions
That only moments
Of balance amongst chaos
Can hold together
It screams insecurities,
Pounding at the doors of madness
Our
Consciousness begs to escape be it by way of sleep or death
But we have escaped far too long
And our prison debt is far overdue
It must be paid in full before
The true silence
Welcomes us into its
Open arms
But it repeatedly coaxes on with siren song
Promising peace and refuge
WAIT!
Silence gently places the fortifications of tranquility
upon our back as we lie on our stomachs
trying to shake off the weight of the world.
Through the very din of silence,
listen carefully
and pick out the comforting words of voices
voices long lost in the chasm of a memory we still have no control over
This silence may yet succumb to you
Open up to you
As you have been exposed for long enough
Then those screams
Those howls
Bellows
Those shouts
Will recede to
Love songs and crackling fires
And it will be silent
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 12:48 PM UTC
A lifelong Michigander
I've endured my share of brutal winters
The ones that seem to thoroughly freeze you
Right into the cracks of your armor
You know, the toughness that you show the world
Deeper experiences than your skin, reaching past and
Down right to your bones
A woman seemingly designed for melancholy
I struggle and have to beware of making it my identity
For I am much more than that sorrow which has shaped me
I've endured my share of hardship and pain
You know, the kind that bandages cannot reach
And pain can feel like a gnawing within
Like the winters that penetrate you
Ones that reach your bones
And bone crushing, they do feel
But I'm no fool
And I use the pain
For in vain I won't let it become
For spring could not be so glorious, it seems
Without the show of its flip-side...a frozen reality
Joy would be meaningless to me
Without understanding the truth of
Disappointment, sorrow, hurt, loneliness...
gut-wrenching misery that all must face
At least once in their lives
Maybe it sounds cliche but....
The rain might seem dismal and unpleasant
But surely you bask in the green of its fulfillment
A birth might be agonizing for the mother
But surely the life brought into the world is the beautiful result
These are some of my thoughts, lately
The conceiving and jotting down of them
Help me to hold on when life doesn't seem right
Help me to grow beyond my comforts to reach up and beyond
Challenging me to stretch my faith into a bigger dimension
While getting through the tempests of life
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 11:40 AM UTC
Come…
Come taste
my dark side
come feel
the raw
my flaw
uneven
conceiving
i’m revealing
my secret
I don’t fear
you are near
i can hear
you
the breath
you take
i cannot fade
It is me
real
come feel
me
i got
nothing to hide
By: ZainaMusic
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
Every night before I rest my head
I strip myself down until I am bare;
What's mine is His
So with Him I share.
I lie myself down across the bed and prepare to implement my prayers so that we may be intimate.
He enters me, penetrating my entirety
He relies on me
I ride on His serenity
Until He releases all of the devil's ties incising me
He restrains my frame and forces me to refrain from dancing in the flame
Cast by my demons.
Like draining,
He empties me
Of all residual sin remaining within
He comes
Into the heart of my soul
And we console each other.
Whispers,
Heavy breathing,
Until Amen
We continue on conceiving
Until I am whole again.
He smothers my heaving chest
With His Love
His Love
He covers me, in the midst of
His love,
He puts me to rest.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 1:26 AM UTC
Your poetry holds picnics in the places
where some would say that words should never go;
there's strange delight in passing through those spaces
where nouns are tame and verbs are safe to know
to kingdoms where you colour past the lines,
where adjectives and adverbs long to tread—
the other side of “do not enter” signs
where rulers cannot reach the words you said.
Yet nothing's for the sake of mere transgression:
your words below, your metaphors above,
with every part of speech in your possession
together make a verbal kind of love;
conceiving thought anew, and giving birth
to cast and recreate the very earth.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 11:24 AM UTC
Mascara blood
Ash and ***
On the Rorschach sheets where we make love
**** the world **** straight malaise,
It may be just us who feel this way.
But don't ever doubt this, my steadfast conviction.
My love, you're the one I want to watch the ship go down with.
The future can't be real, I barely know how long a moment is.
we're naked getting high on the mattress
While the global market crashes.
As death fills the streets we're Conceiving life ,
Everything is doomed, and nothing will be spared
Don't they see the darkness rising?
Good luck figuring oblivion
We're getting out now while we can
I've brought my mother's depression
You've got your father's scorn and a wayward aunt's schizophrenia.
But everything is fine
Don't give into despair
Because I love you.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 4:59 PM UTC
My November comes conceiving sorrows
Despite layers over layers, the **** shows
Pregnant sorrows are like still borne children
And still borne children, the fiction of the unaware
Always stuck in that muddle of grief,
Not begun; yet not leaving
Out here, November Nights gain an hour
And, my sleeplessness too
Y'day night I woke up in three tunnels of time
As if, passing through some corridors and trapped
Somewhere; for a long time
I feel an envious abandon to
All those trees that felled their leaves
Through the trees and felled leaves
November gives me a cold lonely road
To tread, more backwards than ahead...
Mired lines mar the November vision
Can insinuations offer 'clarity on Intentions?'
Fall fells a lot, below the bare branches
Awaits a lot of leaves, crushed hopes and dreams
I lay bare, awaiting this November to turn over
@ all rights with Author
Nov 10, 2016
Nov 10, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
*reality abruptly removed the veil
realization mercifully provided the light
a binary being seeking his own level
attempting to rise to the surface of himself
if peaceful existence is based on choice
then personal dogma tablets need chiseling
if afterlife is fashioned from belief systems
then intimate mysteries need conceiving
dialogue of a dress rehearsal for an actual life
faithlessly hidden within lines of complexity
alliterated ambiguously, expressed equivocally
setting the stage for reincarnation's passion play*
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC