Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"conjoin" poems
*As the moon begins to rise As my devils too-- Start to conjoin, This is bad.*
0
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC
Devils Inside
One day, two incidents, one enemy; we’ll never forget, A day which changed map projection, Which apart the hearts, Extirpate many dreams, Floating bodies in the river, Conjoin pain and frighten memories, Memories which we would recall on 16th December, When we were recalling the memories of severance with Dhaka, Woe was in the breeze, But an enemy afar from all emotions, Bloodthirsty souls; Extirpate many dreams, Dreams of to become a pilot, doctor and a responsible citizen, One day, two incidents, one enemy; we’ll never forget, We’ll never forget, One enemy but two faces, First Dhaka than Peshawar, But they did not knew, Events of dolorous conjoined the nations! By: Nida Mahmoed
0
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
Dhaka to Peshawar
The curious activity of men/women makes me wonder precisely when both will learn how to conjoin with rabbits, geese, bull and lion. Talking incessantly like birds, roaring like lions. However absurd! snapping like crocodiles or habitually waiting in human files, torturing like cats water-boarding rats, rolling like logs snarling like dogs. snorting like pigs gobbling up figs In everyone an animal lurks whether saints or jerks!
0
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 5:31 AM UTC
RABBITS, GEESE, BULL, and LION
Osiris is not a viable option, The rays of him are toxic, One must err on the side of caution, One mustn't take in the toxins. Not with a serpents gaze of night , I am the gleam in their very eyes, The twilight of people's lives, The shine dwindling with time. Street lights conjoin with the void,   As loss and gain meet with choice, The old teach young about voice, Lack thereof and unspoken poise. Lines have gathered across the head, Along with emotions, swirling regrets, Primal fear creeps up ones neck, The remainder of memories to forget. I haven't slept for I have wept I Am No King I haven't sang for I have pain I Am No King I haven't laughed for I am ****** Keep On Looking I haven't smiled for I am vile You Won't Find Me For she dwells within me A potion within a vial Searching for answers, Answers that have long since forgotten the questions, As words have forgotten poems, Poems that have forgotten books, Books that have forgotten shelves, And you, who has forgotten me, Although you live here, my Isis. You do not have the mind, To know that I dream of you, With me, as one in the same, Glimmers of hope which make way, For back breaking pain, and disdain As you say, my name, I sob, I pray, You encounter the soul provider, Whom you alone, deserve. Deciphering the hieroglyphics, The depth of my chambers, Such an undertaking, Is only for those not wary, Of rude awakenings and laws, Forsaking the freedom of my bonds, Which hold my place, along the gate, Which controls my fate. Bonds of loathing and taunting Specters of faceless smiles Messages of nameless moans Titles and spiteful rivals, Bring cries of despair and tears, Which shatter the floor beneath, Uncovering layers of disgust, Skin deep, is the source of vanity. Vanity meaning fleeting importance, For it, death, life, joy, fear, hope, And melancholy; know nothing, As they are simply the effects, But not the causes of the ruckus, The frozen coating of ocean surface, Ignorant to the swelling below, Waiting for a chance to bring Diablo. I Am No King You Won't Find Me Strip Me Of My Crown And Bury Me My Queen
0
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 11:10 AM UTC
Isis
Osiris is not a viable option, The rays of him are toxic, One must err on the side of caution, One mustn't take in the toxins. Not with a serpents gaze of night , I am the gleam in their very eyes, The twilight of people's lives, The shine dwindling with time. Street lights conjoin with the void,   As loss and gain meet with choice, The old teach young about voice, Lack thereof and unspoken poise. Lines have gathered across the head, Along with emotions, swirling regrets, Primal fear creeps up ones neck, The remainder of memories to forget. I haven't slept for I have wept I Am No King I haven't sang for I have pain I Am No King I haven't laughed for I am ****** Keep On Looking I haven't smiled for I am vile You Won't Find Me For she dwells within me A potion within a vial Searching for answers, Answers that have long since forgotten the questions, As words have forgotten poems, Poems that have forgotten books, Books that have forgotten shelves, And you, who has forgotten me, Although you live here, my Isis. You do not have the mind, To know that I dream of you, With me, as one in the same, Glimmers of hope which make way, For back breaking pain, and disdain As you say, my name, I sob, I pray, You encounter the soul provider, Whom you alone, deserve. Deciphering the hieroglyphics, The depth of my chambers, Such an undertaking, Is only for those not wary, Of rude awakenings and laws, Forsaking the freedom of my bonds, Which hold my place, along the gate, Which controls my fate. Bonds of loathing and taunting Specters of faceless smiles Messages of nameless moans Titles and spiteful rivals, Bring cries of despair and tears, Which shatter the floor beneath, Uncovering layers of disgust, Skin deep, is the source of vanity. Vanity meaning fleeting importance, For it, death, life, joy, fear, hope, And melancholy; know nothing, As they are simply the effects, But not the causes of the ruckus, The frozen coating of ocean surface, Ignorant to the swelling below, Waiting for a chance to bring Diablo. I Am No King You Won't Find Me Strip Me Of My Crown And Bury Me My Queen
Continue reading...
94
*Blue is the color of the baby sky, fluffy clouds meandering the limitless heavens Blue is the smell of the salty salty ocean; the deep mystery alive with overflowing lost souls. Blue is the whimsical whisper of the ocean’s song, caressing the heart, pacifying the mind. Blue is where cerulean skies conjoin with caressing crisp breezes, as I listen to the roaring debris of the surf. Blue is the sight of purple waves crashing gently against each other, stretching afar with no limits, no boundaries. Soft fingers curl around jagged rocks, whispering traces of blue. Blue is the marvels of wondrous possibilities etched by the sea; It’s cascading waves marking time, washing emotions onto the shore. Blue is the feeling of eternal faith and fidelity; candor eyes speaking your soul, seeing blue. Wash me away, wash me away, for I have yet spilled my thoughts and then my mind, into the perpetual mystic heart of blue.*
0
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
Blue.
We live in the unlighted state of America Where what happens when we turn the lights off Is dealt with darkness And matters of delicate touch Are treated with sharpness When our only language Is to inflict anguish We cut connections in the bedroom To clear our cynical head room For contempt and judgement People looking for a feeling to fall into Or a reason to live Must face frigid climates When the public invades privacy And ill fated ****** exploits Pervade salacious tabloids Our ****** regrets Cut the deepest Society reaps them Sowing us together with resentment We provide each other with relief But not the relief we're looking for We give each other hours of relief Until those useless hours become days And those fruitless days become years That engender endless tears As it remains warm in our car But the winter outside freezes anything that breaks the plane And our air conditioning only helps so much When the spinning wheels are in our faces There is a national coverage in the media That presents a bleak picture of the ****** health of America I feel I sit somewhere in between *** offenders and a disgusted public When I observe the observers Who are too scared shitless to ever face their own emotions Judge those for overindulging in their emotions They lived their life in fear and safety So they could be the righteous ones To admonish the risk takers and mistake makers Yet they are of the least value to humanity They're the people who grade all your answers as incorrect Without providing their perfect alternatives While trying to erase the context Because of what the context has to say about society People feeling that they can never be emotionally vulnerable Until they experience sheer desperation And no dollar contract Can replace human contact Yet we give men so much money and power And ask them to feel fine in our cold shower Until we are soiled by their intention A nation committed to selling Stella Artois A nation full of Blanche DuBois Humanity folds in on itself When we attack with *** Humanity does itself a disservice By not trying to understand these attacks honestly We forsake forgiveness And embrace desperation Until we become unbearably desperate For attention For approval For ****** contact For money For validation And sometimes our desperate desires become tangled I'd like to think of that as love And not a meeting between two practical rapists That conjoin in the middle Yet somehow come out distorted on the other side
0
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 4:55 AM UTC
Blanche DuBois
We live in the unlighted state of America Where what happens when we turn the lights off Is dealt with darkness And matters of delicate touch Are treated with sharpness When our only language Is to inflict anguish We cut connections in the bedroom To clear our cynical head room For contempt and judgement People looking for a feeling to fall into Or a reason to live Must face frigid climates When the public invades privacy And ill fated ****** exploits Pervade salacious tabloids Our ****** regrets Cut the deepest Society reaps them Sowing us together with resentment We provide each other with relief But not the relief we're looking for We give each other hours of relief Until those useless hours become days And those fruitless days become years That engender endless tears As it remains warm in our car But the winter outside freezes anything that breaks the plane And our air conditioning only helps so much When the spinning wheels are in our faces There is a national coverage in the media That presents a bleak picture of the ****** health of America I feel I sit somewhere in between *** offenders and a disgusted public When I observe the observers Who are too scared shitless to ever face their own emotions Judge those for overindulging in their emotions They lived their life in fear and safety So they could be the righteous ones To admonish the risk takers and mistake makers Yet they are of the least value to humanity They're the people who grade all your answers as incorrect Without providing their perfect alternatives While trying to erase the context Because of what the context has to say about society People feeling that they can never be emotionally vulnerable Until they experience sheer desperation And no dollar contract Can replace human contact Yet we give men so much money and power And ask them to feel fine in our cold shower Until we are soiled by their intention A nation committed to selling Stella Artois A nation full of Blanche DuBois Humanity folds in on itself When we attack with *** Humanity does itself a disservice By not trying to understand these attacks honestly We forsake forgiveness And embrace desperation Until we become unbearably desperate For attention For approval For ****** contact For money For validation And sometimes our desperate desires become tangled I'd like to think of that as love And not a meeting between two practical rapists That conjoin in the middle Yet somehow come out distorted on the other side
Continue reading...
71
Freedom roams within A utopia where souls clash and conjoin for a small while Needles bend easily Kindred spirits on the house ! A thousand and one voices ring High end and low
0
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
With the homies
The universal therapy a common, household medicine crafted by collaborations of talents and celebrated by siblings far in distance, near in heart and mind. If ever a religion existed which all would embrace, a movement to seize the fires and conjoin hands to spread and span, If winds had a literal way to speak to our simple minds, if anything could drown us faster than the rising expanse of miles upon oceans and make irrelevant the laws of land, gravity and life...
0
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC
A Poem About Music
Life is but a single moment A flicker Each a glimmer of imperfection Because in that moment We share the moments of others And our imperfections conjoin To create tragedies and love stories So that Even in death Those moments echo on
0
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 3:29 PM UTC
We Live This Moment
Yes, she stole my thoughts devoured, digested and made her own in the shortest possible time one could imagine, made her imprint to make it a through job. all between a stuporous sleep of my unmaking after that frenzied mating instigated by her  cheating instinct at its acme. she did it quietly in the dim light of the zero watt bulb, after we slept together for the first time; it was eerie my romanticized thoughts were the first to get drawn out, a tree full of wild red blossoms, the name of which slipped from memory to oblivion, migratory birds of different feathers sitting on that tree chirping in love's sweet passion. i woke up when the thoughts circling like blood in my veins were touched, she was there prowling with the look of a witch, a happy one at that how victorious she looked! my angst has no place in her scheme of things after that, she coughed and spat and pretended ,IPR never was violated When you get bitten by the serpent called  lust, and two ***** conjoin, thoughts go down and hide, one become unreasonable and glide through moonlit sky, stars wink, thoughts wink back, and the stupor takes over. *yes, she stole my thoughts how could one complain? You need to be one or the other at a time.*
0
Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 1:05 PM UTC
intellectual theft during ****** stupor
The sun, passionate lover, persistently follows his beloved, gentle river, a demure maiden from the hills. Though  sparkles and glows on his attention, she loves to shelter more, within the woods, out of his reach. When she at last comes out in the open, to the planes, look! how much overjoyed the resplendent sun! With his million magical hands he embraces her she turns  crimson, in her intense desire then comes the subtle moment of ecstasy, in the ocean, they both conjoin, together they swim till nightfall, the story is enacted, in endless variations, between these lovers.
0
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 1:27 PM UTC
Sun the passionate lover ; comely river his coy sweetheart
You say that you are contentment while You warm yourself up tucked next to my heart and that I sleep largely peaceful, rarely snore, and that I do not toss and turn endlessly. But tonight , tonight for the first time, I talked in my sleep I was mumbling, leaning against your back You said, that it was rather beautiful The true, real me, the unconscious me the core of me that you love the magic essence of (my) being. In the morning You make coffee and hum in the bathroom. Our afternoons and our morning the string that conjoin them the light in the mist of life.
0
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 2:24 AM UTC
LOVE IS IN THE SMALL DETAILS
You, to me, run like clockwork. Which is to say: In sections , your insides spin at insidious speeds, whirring a blur of gold silver copper gold silver copper- In others, they crawl, wrestling, pushing, heaving, scraping and screeching. A cacophony of cogs, the crashes spark thoughts. Thoughts that think of everything, Thoughts that think your mate can sing Thoughts you thunk when you where drunk, Thoughts you think you thought you’d thunk, Thoughts that form into ideas, Thoughts that show eternal fears. Thoughts you thought you thought you’d thunk, Thoughts you think you thought you’d thought but nought comes to mind about the thought you thought you’d thought about thinking the thought you’d thunk, Thunk, Thunk , Clunk. These lighting shards that shatter and glow, They seem to know which way to go. Conjoin with fractured other parts, To hold together another heart. But all they see, is a calm face. That subtly shifts from day to night. So unaware of any fright. Tick, tick, tock. You are the all encompassing Incomprehensible complex A never ending clockwork Spinning deeper and deeper Swirling deeper, deeper Twirling, deeper, deeper, deeper Dirt and diamond and daisies and you, Contain all in life i know to be true. Clockwork you.
0
Jan 21, 2022
Jan 21, 2022 at 11:15 AM UTC
Clockwork you
Drifting.... waning, wandering away from myself....               electric pine and turquoise eyes unfold,        greeting me,     a jade leopard winks with those eyes, an inside joke in the new moon darkness lighting the room..... I watch myself levitate into conscious caverns   in my gray matter canyon wind tinkles and chimes ( ( ( ( v i b r a t i n g ) ) ) ) the moist,              fleshy rocks...           memories of sativa green Canada echo-- a family of strangers       humming, buzzzing & drumming rhythms tattooing heartbeat sigils onto each other             amidst a sonic amethyst campfire           moonbeam embers glow         indigo guitar strings sing hymns      swaying and swimming in cuddle puddles--    a new age baptism.                              My wings shimmer,                          visions simmer and chill              the darkness returns             left with myself again         I flight right into another lightbub storm      as trebble trouble words rain bows of colors atop white lilies reaching for stained-glass clouds. Distantly, native flutes flourish like rippling water rises slowly into incandescent tides... sweet, filagreed foam tickling- washing bubbles popping over pores. and I rejoice! a homecoming for an ocean's drop rejoined-- rejuvenated! berserk bongos bump 'n thump a raucous rumpus of blissful voices vicariously lift my visage into everyone at once! astral silhouette forms cajole and conjoin and we laugh ourselves into ****** And for a fleeting moment... I reminded of the celestial infinity that surrounds us, where time isn't measured in promises and trees aren't groomed to be currency. Here, I remember the why of my existence, only to momentarily forget, upon opening my eyes, until delicate deja vu echoes intermittently remind me once in a while.
0
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC
Releasing Myself From Myself
Drifting.... waning, wandering away from myself....               electric pine and turquoise eyes unfold,        greeting me,     a jade leopard winks with those eyes, an inside joke in the new moon darkness lighting the room..... I watch myself levitate into conscious caverns   in my gray matter canyon wind tinkles and chimes ( ( ( ( v i b r a t i n g ) ) ) ) the moist,              fleshy rocks...           memories of sativa green Canada echo-- a family of strangers       humming, buzzzing & drumming rhythms tattooing heartbeat sigils onto each other             amidst a sonic amethyst campfire           moonbeam embers glow         indigo guitar strings sing hymns      swaying and swimming in cuddle puddles--    a new age baptism.                              My wings shimmer,                          visions simmer and chill              the darkness returns             left with myself again         I flight right into another lightbub storm      as trebble trouble words rain bows of colors atop white lilies reaching for stained-glass clouds. Distantly, native flutes flourish like rippling water rises slowly into incandescent tides... sweet, filagreed foam tickling- washing bubbles popping over pores. and I rejoice! a homecoming for an ocean's drop rejoined-- rejuvenated! berserk bongos bump 'n thump a raucous rumpus of blissful voices vicariously lift my visage into everyone at once! astral silhouette forms cajole and conjoin and we laugh ourselves into ****** And for a fleeting moment... I reminded of the celestial infinity that surrounds us, where time isn't measured in promises and trees aren't groomed to be currency. Here, I remember the why of my existence, only to momentarily forget, upon opening my eyes, until delicate deja vu echoes intermittently remind me once in a while.
Continue reading...
53
where sea sings to sand in crashing surf melodies crisp scent of salt air seagulls screech, sand ***** burrow sky falls off the horizon blue on blue oceans conjoin cerulean skies far as eyes can see squinting slightly in hot sun warm smell of tanning lotions buoys bob in and out mesmerizing slow dances rocking with the wind gliding boat sails billowing golden crests reflect sunsets Del Maximo ©July 16, 2009
0
Jan 18, 2010
Jan 18, 2010 at 9:45 AM UTC
Beaches
In a desolate desert where peaches are scarce An oasis appears and a goddess prepares To ****** her next partner with apples and pairs And proposing a union she takes me upstairs Into the skyline and over the weather To a room in the clouds we inhabit together The book of life opens, she reads me my rites Informing my dreams for a thousand more nights Our foreplay, like Gospel, begins with a word Whispering wisdom and secrets unheard While waves of effulgence wash over my ears And unspeakable lightness conveys me to tears The courtship completed she lifts up her veil Undresses her figure and shows me her tail Her gown on the floor in a soft silky heap And we drift to the bedroom where cherubin sleep Melting like butter, collapsing before her Her miracle strength has me backed in a corner And so I surrender, no use to resist Beaten by Ishtar, I wait to be kissed She spreads herself open, unnaturally wide Receiving my body and spirit inside Inserting my tome like a book on her shelf We form an anthology, bound in one self No match for a goddess and giver of life And yet we conjoin as a husband and wife The muse and the poet are spun in one strand Just see how my pen is now firm in her hand With one leg in heaven and one in my bed I recline and receive her celestial head Arousing my mind and exchanging our dreams Through visions that swim in ethereal streams Perusing her volumes and rarely seen stacks A scholar who studies the shadows and cracks I reach out to ****** her wavydark hair Her substance reflecting like dust in the air I dip in her inkwell again and again In search of the words that will flow from my pen Receiving and giving, a cycle unending Eternal rewards from the muse I’m befriending
0
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 4:16 AM UTC
Ode to Ishtar, Dame of the Matrix
In a desolate desert where peaches are scarce An oasis appears and a goddess prepares To ****** her next partner with apples and pairs And proposing a union she takes me upstairs Into the skyline and over the weather To a room in the clouds we inhabit together The book of life opens, she reads me my rites Informing my dreams for a thousand more nights Our foreplay, like Gospel, begins with a word Whispering wisdom and secrets unheard While waves of effulgence wash over my ears And unspeakable lightness conveys me to tears The courtship completed she lifts up her veil Undresses her figure and shows me her tail Her gown on the floor in a soft silky heap And we drift to the bedroom where cherubin sleep Melting like butter, collapsing before her Her miracle strength has me backed in a corner And so I surrender, no use to resist Beaten by Ishtar, I wait to be kissed She spreads herself open, unnaturally wide Receiving my body and spirit inside Inserting my tome like a book on her shelf We form an anthology, bound in one self No match for a goddess and giver of life And yet we conjoin as a husband and wife The muse and the poet are spun in one strand Just see how my pen is now firm in her hand With one leg in heaven and one in my bed I recline and receive her celestial head Arousing my mind and exchanging our dreams Through visions that swim in ethereal streams Perusing her volumes and rarely seen stacks A scholar who studies the shadows and cracks I reach out to ****** her wavydark hair Her substance reflecting like dust in the air I dip in her inkwell again and again In search of the words that will flow from my pen Receiving and giving, a cycle unending Eternal rewards from the muse I’m befriending
Continue reading...
40
Ever untouched by prying eyes Your incandescence knows no price No quantity of gold could wager Your glimmering translucency For beauty sits through frosted glass It knows no mirror image In sunny spells it lights the way Just possible to distinguish At night it sits upon the lake Which ruminates inside your head To change you but remain unchanged To glow when couples wed You are the anthropomorphism Of waves on a summers day You are the moment two opposing Paths conjoin in harmony In the instance your cover’s blown Your reflection sits untampered For that instant your delicate soul Lies naked, conserved, unhampered For all of this I sit in awe As viscous silver streams Carve channels at your feet Ejecting precious molten metals Which ignite with scorching heat I find the strength to sit up Then rise up onto my knees Put out your hand and pull me up I feel so deeply of your beauty I cannot help but smile When I think of your gift to me It strikes me that time has passed Since the sun shone to illuminate Just how grateful I am to have an Opposing path through frosted glass A flower to my unkempt leaves.
0
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 9:00 AM UTC
Natural Painkiller
We all derive from the same paper that which is forcefully folded, patiently pressed and carefully creased. We all speak through the same pen that wishes for stencils, grimacing at unpracticed, crooked lines. We all take action with the same scissors, cutting away from the whole to create paper people holding hands. We all are constructed in the same accordion, snipping away the background that falls like snowflakes to create identity. We all fear severing the same sections that conjoin one being to another, waiting with knives in our hands, anticipating to cut. We all fall from the separation, slicing the connections that bind us, sacrificing our grip that suspends us in safety. We all meet at the bottom of the same paper shredder, lost in the screams of its blades, obsessing ourselves to be broken pieces of an individual, but forgetting that we paper people once all derived from the same paper.
0
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 12:38 AM UTC
"Paper People"
Can the skin of my lips touch again the soft suppleness of yours? I like the euphoria that races down my spine and spreads through me like fever; Weak and lightheaded, I am painfully vulnerable to its effect. Giddy like a child to know you feel it too as we linger pressed together. Can we meld again our faces and make our tongues dance? I crave the taste of the mint that still haunts your house; With eyes closed, I greet the endorphins with playful giggles. Your hands clasped in mine, we brace for the onslaught of our zeal. Can we again have our souls collide within the envelope of our breaths? I long for the dizzy heights aloft of my infinite love of you; Your arms around my neck forcing my head to meet yours with haste. My hands cradling your backside, drawing our bodies yet closer together. Can we repeat again the wordless speech, the slow mind coition? I fancy my heart a metronome escalating a beat in syncope with your own. A little nibble, a teasing bite, a nosh if you will, as if your silk lined set were food stuffs with gravy. I suckle the lower lip as if it were an areolar protuberance feeding my infantile psyche. Can I again passionately conjoin your mouth with mine, and hold you there in my thoughts? Can I dare evoke the feelings I so wholeheartedly embrace, and return them to you with fervor? Can we share each other in spontaneity as a hello or goodbye, again my love forever? Please...! Can I kiss you again? -----ChawzzyScript
0
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 4:49 AM UTC
Can I Kiss You Again
The images of your beating heart Fall trace inside your hazel eyes Remnants within, breaking apart Ripped apart, by another's lies Your torn-up heart beats to a different rhythm One in complete synchronicity to my own Your emotions have jumped, going out on a wim Now, no longer will you be left alone For my heart beats, in response, adoring your tempo My soul, in shock, gets lost in your intoxicating eyes My arms, get trapped, around your voluptuous waist And my lips, they steal, the most luscious of kisses To drown in your eyes, would be an end most fitting For one, like myself, who adores them finely so To harm them, would be a crime worth a beating I'll protect them with my life, no matter the show To press you against me, pulling at your waist Slender, and feminine, the most perfect of shapes Never to be apart, stuck together with paste Together forever, like one vine to two grapes Before leaning in for that one special moment When two lips conjoin, and become a whole If broken apart, I would write a lament To which, my life would be the eternal toll
0
Jan 19, 2010
Jan 19, 2010 at 10:00 PM UTC
A Tempo To Adore
Did you love me in a past life? Is that why you made a pact with me to conjoin this time in a karmic unraveling? What did you intend to learn from me? Our energetic ties implied we should have known how this would all end; I felt it in the beginning, that this might not be sustainable, but I persisted and so did you, dragging our feet into the trenches. Did you care what the end result would be? Was it satisfying enough to watch the soft shell surrounding us crack?
0
Jan 4, 2022
Jan 4, 2022 at 12:17 AM UTC
Ties
Clinging to comfort, fearing abandonment, Who dares the self-empowering act of separation? In what position do you conclude your Worthiness to reign supreme in such fertile moments? Rhetorical of course, for a physical battle is but absent, ‘Tis only a tacit exchange of venom between two souls. Always present, but selective with its encounters, I wait not for your presence, and sleep consciously eager. And that who equivocates tear drops with victories, You subsequently turn hand when we conjoin. When moments turn into years, I ask only for more. How audacious to criticize your offerings am I.
0
Nov 14, 2011
Nov 14, 2011 at 10:14 AM UTC
Time
she's gold on one side silver on the other heartened and free she runs like a car wreck racing at breakneck speed trudging through sand to conjoin two-fold into one. little passes by her that goes unnoticed. she drinks in every opportunity to swallow what ever happening will feed her today's lesson. equanimity hostility frivolity passivity. she knows the streets have taught her more than she will ever forget. and she can remember how it felt to taste ***** in her mouth when she looked in the mirror that mocked her every breath. she tries to back step and unmake a bed that she's told she made and must lie in for the rest of her life. she wants to call consignment and have it undelivered but they won't take bug ridden **** stained sprung and un-stuffed pieces of junk that carried peoples dreams in the dark. there's no worth, they say. so she's left carting around holes and dead air. melted glass and ***** cartridges. spent fits and broken tin. wondering what kind of legacy this is for a very pretty tousle haired girl that trusts her with unfeigned eyes and believes in super mom? she cries at night and tries in the morning being as tangible as they expect- but in that socketed place that holds spun sugar contemplation she buries herself. one two-fold parades all day playing puppet gurrl games. she lives in a land of pots of gold and rainbows clover and blue moons moving one step at a time towards what's expected because she knows nothing else. day in and day out running like a car wreck- gold on one side and silver on the other.
0
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 12:04 PM UTC
Silver and Gold
she's gold on one side silver on the other heartened and free she runs like a car wreck racing at breakneck speed trudging through sand to conjoin two-fold into one. little passes by her that goes unnoticed. she drinks in every opportunity to swallow what ever happening will feed her today's lesson. equanimity hostility frivolity passivity. she knows the streets have taught her more than she will ever forget. and she can remember how it felt to taste ***** in her mouth when she looked in the mirror that mocked her every breath. she tries to back step and unmake a bed that she's told she made and must lie in for the rest of her life. she wants to call consignment and have it undelivered but they won't take bug ridden **** stained sprung and un-stuffed pieces of junk that carried peoples dreams in the dark. there's no worth, they say. so she's left carting around holes and dead air. melted glass and ***** cartridges. spent fits and broken tin. wondering what kind of legacy this is for a very pretty tousle haired girl that trusts her with unfeigned eyes and believes in super mom? she cries at night and tries in the morning being as tangible as they expect- but in that socketed place that holds spun sugar contemplation she buries herself. one two-fold parades all day playing puppet gurrl games. she lives in a land of pots of gold and rainbows clover and blue moons moving one step at a time towards what's expected because she knows nothing else. day in and day out running like a car wreck- gold on one side and silver on the other.
Continue reading...
58
दिल मिल जाएँ लफ़्ज़ों में गुफ़्तगू हो नज़्मों में हो के शायरी के हिस्से आओ लिख दें दिल के किस्से In words, the hearts conjoin Communicate in rhyme Be the part of my poetry Let's together write the story
0
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 7:56 AM UTC
Poetry.....my love
Watch the sky, from light to dark, wait for the sound of rain, only to know your desire was in vain. Hold my hand, Such slender fingers, two shadows become one, two souls conjoin, only to deform. Our dream is but a crisis, death closes in, Screams gasp for air, your hand turns to a tight fist, two shadows become one, as one dies out in the light, your future is no longer so bright. A tree grows out of tear, each branch takes one more strand of hair, time catches up to everyone as you sit and watch the sky, the rain finally came, you meet death with a smile and a stare, in heaven two shadows become one forevermore
0
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 10:10 PM UTC
Shadow