"conquers" poems
A lone voice calls out
Never reaching the stars
Left floating in frigid space
On a blind, infinite journey
Rejection
Nearby are others
Insults are constant gifts
Thrown like red meteorites
And suffocating nebulas
Rejection
Even the cruel pain
Ripping mercilessly
A black hole ******* souls in
Ruthless strength conquers everything
Rejection
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 4:36 AM UTC
I apologize for my thoughts and my actions
But you must understand that I am what they call a man.
And no matter how perfect any woman thinks iam,
I might as well be nonexistent.
For women are the most alluring, sinful ,angelic animals on earth.
I am simply bewitched by your existence.
I can not resist directing an ****** daydream,
Every seven minuets.
The being of your facts,
Makes me want to fall to my death beneath your feet
Something about those hills
That makes my teeth want to sink into my lips.
That voice makes me want to do one thing:
Hear it moaning.
No matter how hard I attempt to be an angel,
My devil enduringly conquers.
We refuse to admit that a
woman is stronger than a man.
We could easily succeed
in having a human being develop
Inside of us and painfully ****** it out of a diminutive hole
Nine physically and emotionally draining months later.
“We could probably do it better than you can.”
We just act ignorant and
Heedlessly assume what is logical;
However, in the reaction center,
that every man denies,
lives the manifest verity that:
Women.
Are.
Stronger.
To be born into a stormy emotional spectrum
With color and darkness
Alone shelters the truth for you.
Fact: A man does use his small head much more often then
His actual head, simply, because men don’t know how to use it.
How convenient it is to be born with two heads.
let its roots anchor into your minds and consume your conscious.
-Arizona
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 8:42 AM UTC
- Listening doesn't always mean understanding
- Listening could mean getting lost in your own thought of tranquility
- Or even your own devastational whir
- Listening doesn't have to be with your ears
- Just the exhaustion of emptiness that outlines your skull;
- Or even the numbness that conquers every length from spine to external excellence of your mind;
- Gliding from one emotion to another could be the loudest transaction without making a single clamor;
- Listening doesn't always mean understanding
- But the utter perplexity of ones thoughts drowning in the sound of nothingness.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
its unmistakable
not just another caravan of faces
not just another passing year
under a strange sky
iv reached the edge of the world
nothing but open sea to my back
as far as the mind can see
and i'm riding a west wind on a quickness breeze
on a middle of the night skiff
to the the small island
where she waits for me
where she sleeps tonight
the bold song gone soft an slow
the guarded smile relaxed into a champion of joy
and conquers all her sadness
with a single tilt at the windmills
like a knight in shining armor
nothing but deep sea
nothing but night salt and sea
and as i draw near
she sings from her soul to mine
come to me lover
laugh
yes cry out loud with all your joys
laugh pure and easy
i'm the mood for you boy
i'm in the mood for your hand in mine
dance in my heart
its a warm night in the tropics
and we got the world to ourselfs
so may i have this dance
spin
dip
ballroom of sand
laugh with me
run with me
we are free
all our lives people have tried to put us away
keep us down
now look at
dancing in the stars
look at us free and easy
dance with me baby
make love with me honey
on this ballroom of sand
laugh pure and true
with simple joy
here by salt and sea
be young with me
tonight on this ballroom of sand
come home to me
warm me with your touch
comfort me with your eyes
iv waited so long come home to me
nothing but open sea at my back
and i feel so alive
i feel so free
and my lover is near iv never been so alive
running a western quickness breeze
on a skiff heading home
to her
jezebel
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 6:00 AM UTC
"Let us have love and more love, a love that melts all opposition, a love that conquers all foes, a love that sweeps away all barriers, a love that aboundeth in charity, large-heartedness, tolerance, and noble-striving, a love that triumphs over all obstacles, a boundless, resistless, sweeping love. Ah me!
Each one must be a sign of love, a sea of love, a centre of love, a sun of love, a star of love, a haven of love, a pearl of love, a palace of love, a mountain of love, a world of love, a universe of love.
Hast thou love? Then thy power is irresistible.
Hast thou sympathy? Then all the stars will sing thy praise!"
~ 'Abdu'l-Baha, Star of the West, VII:17, 19 January 1917, page 171
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 11:48 PM UTC
The handcuff bites my wrist
as teeth sink, searing flesh.
A breath, a scent too familiar to forget.
Blind.
Massive palms, razor point
carving canyons down my spine,
blood is the wine.
The burn of beard
feigning consent.
Fistfuls of hair conquering words.
A corpse to rob me of life,
the press of perversity against satin.
Fighting, writhing
satisfaction.
Pain swells in every limb
the wet swell reveal my sin.
Slaps stinging awake
every fiber of clothing still keeping me safe.
The drive of possession
splitting secrets wide,
fingers around throat clenching tight.
Sweat running red,
the rising growls growls resonate in my head.
The raw force bruising
like claiming a slave,
body & mind consuming.
Ferocity leads to frenzy,
my senses rage against me,
The thickness rips,
devours,
conquers my body for paradise.
And I scream in the ecstasy taken.
A clenching incites eruptions,
the pulsing beast flooding.
My purpose awakened.
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
A huge kinda toothy smile...
A smile that fills her eyes with light
-a light that shines through everyone around her.
A smile that says,
*"I live my life shamelessly
-unapologetically."*
A smile that says,
*"You can throw anything in my way, but you'll never beat down my
optimistic flare."*
A smile that says,
*"I appreciate all that I have
& do not dwell on what I don't."*
It's that real, honest
kinda genuine smile
that does not conceal her problems...
It conquers them.
A smile that blames no one for its frowns.
A smile that makes us all smile
just thinking about it.
A smile that always stays with me
even now that its gone to a better place...
A more deserving home.
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
Make up, on silk clothes
And those crazy one stand offs
And the times of soggy sandwhiches
And the years in our hair,
Could have been the tears from our tongues
The thing that conquers me the most
Is the things we cannot achieve,
The notches in and under our sleeves
The nights we conceive, the things we never need
The winds and the trees,
Its time to remember, nights like these
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 7:06 AM UTC
the night they wed,
cinderella slits the prince’s throat.
she won’t trade her prison
for a pretty cage.
the beast conquers nations,
but beauty’s the one telling him how.
aurora wakes herself.
she’ll spend centuries guarding
a city that never stirs,
and she never questions
her duty to people long gone.
rapunzel burns the tower.
ariel rules the sea.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
I am worth being valued for existing
Not only in the moments
That I become relevant, necessary, or useful
For lustful, celebratory or inspirational insanity
I am not a lollipop or an exotic destination
Stop exploring me *************
Because you salivate over this Hispaniola
Beautiful island desecrated and decimated
How many beautiful spirits will you make savages
How many pure rivers will you **** blood on
How many conquests will you claim a stake in
How much balance will you disturb and subjugate
to the trauma of your transitory exploration
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who taste, plunder, disguise disapproval in their apologies and move on
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who pick and choose who's worth
Of validation, when, & how
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who play with men and women
Hierarchize their prey
But fail to acknowledge
Their man-child whitewashed
Hidden agendas & rigged market values
Conquerors haunted by the trauma they've caused
Will not be absolved by the revolution
Neither will the revolution be the breast
That heals conquers who are traumatized
By the realization of their own fuckery
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 5:29 AM UTC
Heroic in dignity and glory,
Poise and posture,
No potion and spell,
She conquers the world.
That ; only mothers could do.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC
They say love conquers all,
Even the most broken of men.
They say love fills your soul,
Even the most soulless of all.
They say love makes you whole,
But what of the broken?
What of the ones who fell in too deep?
The ones who gave their all,
Every day of the week?
What of the ones who feel so deep?
What of the ones who had been betrayed?
They never tell you what love does after it's gone.
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 5:18 AM UTC
Science
*This is instant messaging in the smallest scale.
Two (or more) particles are separated in space.
An action performed on one is repeated by the other.
Once entwined, they are fundamentally connected.*
Romance
Two lovers that were torn apart
by fate, against them from the start.
They kept a secret close to heart,
a way to stay connected -- how smart!
*Wherever you and I may be
the stars are there for us to see.*
And so the lovers could agree:
to share the heavens, they were free.
Day or Night matters not,
it changes neither script nor plot.
A love that cannot be forgot
conquers any rational thought.
But as the days went by
fear gripped her.
She thought,
*It scares me that we'll never know
if one of us has stopped looking up.*
He knew this day would come,
and had responded in advance.
She could hear him say,
*If you look up, so will I.
If you stop, I will too.
It's spooky how we'll know,
but we will.
Fear not the coming of that day.
It may not even come, who can say?
Two souls entwined, though far away
are never truly led astray.*
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
**** this coffee's really sour
I've been drinking it for half an hour
Wanna hear a poem
Wanna hear a poem
Wanna hear a poem about a cauliflower
[Cauliflower's foolish
It doesn't fit the theme
I'm sick of all your nonsense
I'm tired of your memes]
Woman selling knickknacks
I'm not eating tic-tacs™
Your words were put in brackets
Check out my rhyming tactics
I see that you're not one for fun
Your a cloudy day, I'm the shining sun
My absurdity
Is the key
To happy for eternity
[You're clearly deeply broken
And only you can cure
Your fundamental problems
But really I'm not sure
The only one who conquers
Is one who really tries
So stop with the gorillas
Since everything will die]
Maybe you don't understand
My foolishness goes hand in hand
With making things that are the best
Like giant squids and turnip fests
Order, chaos, streets and bogs
Them, White, Color, Talking Frog
Odd on top but clear below
From ash and fire life will grow
Then again I see it's true
I am right and so are you
Maybe we both have a claim
In this crazy poet game
**
Okay]
That didn't rhyme!
[It doesn't have to]
I love you
[Mmm hmm]
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC
Candid smiles radiate waves of happiness,
And the promise of foreboding tenderness.
Pupils dilate at the sight of chaste skin
Your body position enumerates control, we’re ready to begin.
Vibrant red rose petals sprinkled on expensive white lace
As I lay pressed against you, I hear your strong heart race.
Your eyes undress me, while your mouth seems to grasp for words unknown to individuals,
But known to every pair of souls entwined across the earth, who feel pure love, not strictly ******
Scratch marks on your back, the air is heavy and intense.
We move together, our senses heightened, slowly building suspense.
Loud screams and moans, a lovely and true symphony of feelings, then we’re through.
You lay back down, your breathing is rapid, I climb in your arms and kiss you.
Love is a verb, a doing word,
Love conquers all, undeterred.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
I cradle the thought of my soul deferring from my body, as if death were a newborn to be adored. as my efforts towards nurturing this ideal reach expiration, a broad emptiness conquers my internal being; and I fear I will drift through time unchanged. hear me, propellers are necessary in the water and legs on land- but I'm no ship, and I have ropes tying my born given feet to my hands.
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
Her hands tremble
As the temptation conquers her mind
She grabbed anything sharp
That she could find
Go, do it.
Said the voices in her head
She listens and cuts
Wishing she was dead
Blood stained wrist
Blood stained sheets
Are all she sees
But now her mind is at ease
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 6:22 AM UTC
The expansions of space
the matrix we learn to re-create
lucid dreaming conquers the mind
lust drains the mind rendering it blind
past issues fade like clouds
pedestrians pass in the confusion of time
inner thoughts expressed aloud
surrounded atmosphere all around
limitations is what keeps humanity underground
infinity: a number of fantasy
kept up like gasses and when the bubble pops acid drops
slipping into the abyss till gravity stops
amid the ashes is where life crashes
so long as it stays concealed in darkness
everything comes out to light
in such sparkling moments
in energy in rebirth
the fallen jaguar rises taking the form of night
chosen by the stars
given divine right
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 9:48 PM UTC
We proposed for Witches Abroad on Broadway, a costume.
As a lure to students, orange and black candy.
Dancing at the prom, cell phones caught the ghouls.
This stretch of road was full of cool cats.
Unlucky ones were left on the side as skeletons.
We swept them clear with our broomsticks.
Our guns were not as brutal as broomsticks.
Bristles hid the ******* end, as if in costume,
No flesh, just skeleton.
Like bags of orange and black candy,
They were left, full of calico cat.
Our familiars, our friends, dinner for a ghoul.
They pulled at the ghoul,
In the hands of a witch, danger came by broomstick,
When ghouls snacked on cat,
In their orange and black fur costume,
Tasting sweet, like candy.
They beat them up and down, but they find another skeleton.
Them ghouls come faster, giving birth to others, another skeleton.
Vocalizing desire for black and white, red and yellow make orange, a ghoul,
Howls for student flavored candy.
A witch lays out one, then another with her broomstick,
Removing the face mask and costume.
Them that can, holler their outrage in cat.
Your *** was revealed in orange and black on a calico cat.
Females cooled themselves of *** unwilling mates to a skeleton.
Once alive, copulating loudly, now in a death costume.
Walking upright, a neighborhood was destroyed by a ghoul.
Neighbors watched, a witch patrolled on a broomstick.
Your students were seen as human candy.
One wife beater had a juicy rind, sweet and soured candy.
At the dance, hors d’oeuvres were made of cat.
Shot forward, it can create a hole, can a broomstick.
Where stomachs used to be, a skeleton,
Death conquers all, no more ghoul.
One, now many properly attired for the Danse Macabre in costume.
I found an orange, as broomsticks cleaned Broadway of cat candy.
In my student costume and human face mask, my path is crossed by a cat.
It disappeared as if it never was, visible only to Death, a skeleton made by ghoul.
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
You are a gerund.
I am a verb.
Talking behind their backs
Will not solve our problems.
I opened the door and spoke.
I asked them to be quiet.
Standing behind me,
Like the mouse you are,
You pretended to want action.
I am action.
You are a gerund.
I am a verb.
Action leaps out of me
Like a plastic snake
On a loaded spring.
You were talking about a solution.
I wrote, I spoke,
I developed a plan.
Thinking about action,
Wishing and praying
For a conclusion was all
You came close to.
But stories are not written
Through inaction.
One well placed verb
Conquers a dozen nouns
And completes the sentence,
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 10:00 AM UTC
An airplane crashes into an uncharted island and hundreds of people die in the burning debris, and somewhere a group of boys and girls are taking selfies as they stand next to a burning office building.
Thousands of teenagers sit on the couch and eat ice cream until the buttons on their pants explode off.
Kids light themselves on fires as if they were monks from the Tiananmen Square, trying to gain acceptance, their dreams of stardom translated through a series of YouTube comments.
We can't afford books for college because the tuition is ridiculous, but these glossy tabloid magazines are only a few bucks; pick one to set the course of your life.
Middle-aged people spend their lives indoors, away from the thirsty, hungry, withering children, and check how many likes did their photos receive on their smartphones.
Pornographic images in front of our tired faces, our eyes locked to the screen and we do not blink as our memories become embedded with objectification.
So we don't look up and see the chaos transpiring.
Cat memes and colorful gifs hold our attention while our parents slave away at their boomerang-shaped desks, trapped in clustered cubicles.
I saw a post on Facebook of a girl who was sexually assaulted at a house party and now her name was being hashtagged and kids were posing in photographs, laying on the floor, legs and arms sprawled out, left and right, trying to mimic the injustice.
We swipe right to find our future hookups, but what if our future husbands and wives were on the left?
Society spends millions of dollars on drinks to numb our conscience, until our brain cells are wretched like the homeless guy on the street corner drinking liquor from a coffee mug.
Israel and Palestine battle each other day after day while our generation gossips about Solange Knowles beating up Jay-Z with her patent leather purse as if that news conquers every other bit of information out there.
The world will always be corrupt, but it suffers more from the apathy that belongs to us.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
My father was famous for
noticing endings
admitting defeats
accepting declines
moving along
being a good, end-of-game sport.
Sometimes
he’d spark a surprise
come back—
an evening of the score.
“*The folks are as good
as the people*” he’d declare.
But as life
invariably turns out,
the folks are
rarely
as good
as the people
the pitcher as the batter
the husband as the wife
the striker as the goalie
the salesman as the prospect
the child as the parent
the ying as the yang.
In competitions someone
always conquers, even if just a bit;
the other
always loses, even if just surface wounds—
death always comes
natural or quick.
Then you
know:
“*It’s all over
but the crying.*”
Dad,
I’ve been crying,
but when will I know
“it’s over?”
And, since some “folks” aren’t
so good after all, please tell:
How victorious is victory?
Who is defeated in defeat?
What is the final score?
Who won again?
The true score for when it’s over is
perhaps how
we make sense of the endings,
beginnings,
and
rebeginnings
of life
shared and solitary.
So where is that game clock
that tally board, that ledger to
release my game
announce my endings
settle my scores
so I can do my crying
and
prepare
for next season?
18.i.11
Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 3:14 PM UTC
I was standing at the door,
My thoughts as scattered as the stars,
So excited to meet you,
And to call a moment “ours”.
I take a great deep breath,
And stroll right through the door,
I see many many people,
And several many more.
I search the crowds for you,
And call you on your phone,
I sit down on the lonely bench,
As it buzzes out the busy tone.
I sigh quite loud and give up,
Think that this is all a mess,
How stupid of me to try,
Quite stupid I confess.
But my hope isn’t all gone,
I stay as positive can be,
I know that love conquers all,
When I see you come up to me.
I get up and look at you,
And run to you quite fast,
I jump into your arms,
And let the moment last.
How I have missed you all this time,
These months have turned to years,
So many moments alone,
Spent with silence, nerves, and tears.
I come back to this moment,
And feel the warmth of your embrace,
This moment is our own,
And one I cannot replace.
As I retire to my room,
I begin to close my eyes,
I remember the great times,
And refuse to kiss goodbyes.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
तीम्रो हृदय बोल्छ
आँखाले खोज्छ
तीम्रो मनमा
दुनिया कुरा खेल्छ
कैले काई
तीमीलाई
भयले जितछ
सुंदर ओठ तीम्रो
बांध्या छः
अहंको पट्टीले
मेरो प्रेम
तिमी भित्रै
निस्सास्या छः
Your heart speaks
Your eye seeks
your heart yearns
Thoughts bubble up
In the world of your mind
Fear conquers
Your Beautiful lips
Tied
With an ego bar
My love
In you
Tries to breathe for life
Sobbingsoul
Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 2:27 PM UTC