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In your eyes there is so much more
It goes beyond the deepest blue
Such beauty I’ve not seen before
In your eyes I see hope and the love I have for you.

Far beyond the white like freshly fallen snow
I see you heart pure as a dove
To explain the wondrous beauty the words I don’t know
All I can give is my own true love.

Flecks of green and yellow spark imagination and fire
A beauty rarely seen
No artist’s pallet could conspire
A picture so perfect and clean.

But far beyond the color, I see what makes you whole
If I look deep inside your eyes my dear, I see your soul.
© 2016 Christine Mulvihill
Read more at http://www.******-in-oncology.com
L B Jan 2017
If that night could remember
it would call him back
to our Chinese restaurant
to fried rice and steaming tea
to our winter refuge of tile and cushions
60s retro black and white
Chrome legs of lacquered tables
with its mural of
our Great Wall

...winding, distant, wonder

If the snow hadn't muffled all
but our voices
we would not be—

so alone

Only I
felt his arm take its chance
around my shoulder
Guiding warmth
as good excuse as any
to touch

Two miles on foot
An arc in time
In lace of white
to hide— what might....

Below my window
“Good Night”
not enough
for troubadour
singing, pleading, stumbling...

(I worry about his long way home)

...and hardly notice...

How gently Time joins Snow
as if they cannot bare
instead, conspire
Decide the crystals
Send the flakes to sift over him

This loss needs snow
to blur his face
to fade from view....

This— tender let-down from the sky
As only snow can do...

Cover with beauty

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6o6zMPLcXZ8
Lowell, Massachusetts, January, 1970... Love was lost in the storm of war politics, *****, drugs, and grief.  His brother was a priest and chaplain, killed in Vietnam.
janelflorendx Mar 2017
bury me with the shameful ashes of our past
drown me with your passionate kisses and whisper me that we'll last

take the one last innocent glance
before i drink the liquory glass

i'm on ceasefire
so ready to conspire
hold me tighter and
share me your drunkful desires
At which was the Christmas ******* we pull
And turn this ******* to a Holiday
The Cherriest Bang, makes the Heart blow full
And mix our Best Moments within the Fray
Only to reveal it was yours to keep
Since, anyway, was your Inheritance
And I the Steward; Borrowed for a Bleep
So my Value pays for your Insurance
Which gnaws the Solicitor of his time
With other Clients he in due fulfill
But since your Smile took the most of my Crime
Will conspire your Misexactions, still.
It was always Right, to sing for this Room
In our own Expense, you siphon the Gloom.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Matt Shaw Aug 2016
we conspire at night
how to divide the remains
i can feel it, i
wake up
and each day holds off just a little more
ConnectHook May 31
Empowered and impaired
they conspire to impeach.
Bad Orange-man, spared
still remains out of reach.

If impeachment was due,
now it rots in the the sun.
They're attempting a coup
when no wrong has been done.

Over-ripened, it's rotting
the maggots now fly . . .
unfruitful, their plotting:
a low-hanging lie.
Hey guys, we are really sorry that 45 won almost three years ago.
Are you ready to get over it yet?
(in time for the 2020 circus ☺)
Vierra Nov 2016
So I saw you on that day,
For the last time.
'I don't think I love you no more,
You have caused me enough trouble'
Is what she has exclaimed.
For the hardest part of me
Has silently dissolved,
And now I have found myself
In wanting but it might be in vain,
For there is another who tickles my fancy.
Already steady, I listen closely to those who will
Conspire against me and I have decided to
Believe those ever painful words,
react with the neglectful tendencies of a hardened man, and leave them to their vices.
I do not and will not respond to empty threats
and premeditated hatred because they can not maintain their required responsibilities.

Is it sucker-free wednesdays yet?
Stream of consciousness
Chris Saitta Jul 30
You who have never known the loveliness of love,
Gather your heads on the torn pillow’s edge of mud,
Under the wood-tar shadows of camphor-aided sleep,  
Where your low-flung groans are starvations of sound,
And the amputated clouds, insinuated with gangrene
And blood-stained woods, are still bound to the shooting
Stars that fell beside you and flung up hissing rays of grass.

Parents of the midnight sky, the stolen stars of your children
Open their broken mouths to the battlefield heart of trespass.
To their soldiers’ eyes, the floor of heaven is uncut grass,
Wet with rain and mold and the unlifted wings of Pegasus,
Whose unearthly hoof to unearthly earth scuffs the clod
Of the lunette for the cannons to divulge the great, stuttering
Coda of everything old, malformed of breath and bone.  

Some grass somewhere will now seem the hair of a sweetheart,
And those dead eyes will aways stare, too fond of love unknown.
So the dead soldier and grass and sky conspire to hold a woman,
So the soldier makes the truce between earth and sky,
Between man and the divine, though the chestnut trees    
In red human tongues, pay their deep-forested encomium to distance,
In misspilled gorgeousness like Apollo surveying his own tomb.
This is a Civil War poem that doesn’t pretend to examine causes or the sides, just the aspect of war and its toll.

“Lunette” is simply a crescent-shaped, earthen fortification that was used for cannon in the Civil War, with several well-preserved examples on the Chancellorsville battlefield.
I take from the rich
And I give
To the richer
Grow money trees
And then watch the world wither
I've slithered
In gardens of green
Dripping red
With a purity hood
Draping over my head
I have poisoned the fountain
Of youth
To retain
My control of this endless
Monopoly game
As my capital gains
A skyscraper a day
To the skyrocket stock market
Locke's do I pray
Upon all to be blessed
With a lavish excess
But succession of kings
My investment ******
To breed wealthier nations
Uncommon in man
Through unhealthier rations'
Invisible Hand
Do I muppet the mouths
And harp on the heartstrings
As I tug on the chains
Of the slaves
Freedom rings
And that fat ***** can sing
All she wants
I will cling
To this power
With eagle-lied,
Vulture talons
I devour
The will
And then **** the bills
Billing
Blood that I spill
With impunity
Robbery,
Poverty
Property
I am the law
There is no order stopping me
No cherry topping me
No master forces endorsed
Are out-shopping me
Spending spree
On the lost souls
Now to bending knee
Fall
And enthrall in the terror
Of my urban sprawl
Making maggots of masses'
Automaton dreams
Into my gilded ages'
New pyramid schemes
You can call me a liar
Truth is
No concern
To the one who reigns fire
With oil to burn
Down upon the deniers
Until they all learn
I'll recruit body bags
To preach life to the choir
And when the screen lags
Train these dogs to play dead,
Lay their own on a wire
In so doing shred
The carnage they desire
So I can play God
And with demons conspire
A masterful plan
To command the economy
Zombie hive mind
Get in line
For lobotomy
My progeny multiply to consume
And consume
And consume
'Till the ******* last fume
Dissipates into space
The good fortunes of Earth
All amounting to waste
With the mother who nurtured you
***** and disgraced
The four steeds of Apocalypse
Nothing but paste
For I win every time
It's you humans
At race
Matthew Sokolov Oct 2018
Poetry isn´t easy,
It makes my belly queasy!

But how oh how do I get inspired?
Is there a secret key in order to conspire?

Do I climb a tree?
Give things out for free?

Should I go into my basement?
Should I be in great amazement?

That is a question for all of us,
the answer is a big huge plus!
I wrote this poem while I was trying to think of a poem to write, so I just wrote one that expressed my feelings at that moment.
Luke Kerzich Dec 2018
The longer you linger on my mind
Resides louder the jarring thought: "hatred".
To think that similar synonyms
Could never have previously left my mouth
Was simply a mistake.
You were angelic, a muse at least,
But now the idea of you has turned into
A rusted tombstone littered with dust.
I have learned to despise rather than admire,
Turned from your eyes rather than inquire,
And, perhaps, may yearn to retry rather than conspire...
In a different timeline.
Ashley Chapman Mar 2018
Everyday caught
In the labyrinth of mind,
I am,
Where dreams,
And desires
And lust,
From nothing
Conspire something.

Destination: Canada Water.
The next station is Surrey Quays.
Doors will open on the right-hand side.
Exit here for Goldsmith's College.

In the cerebellum
Fragments flash cerebrum bright:
Wheels in tunnels burn,
A neural screech amplified deep,
As waves of electrons churn,
And in multiple places keep.

This stop:
- My birth -
Is in Westminster!

It’s time:

Do you love me?
DO YOU LOVE ME?
          Yes, No, Ohhh (the audience).

In the space-time continuum,
The labyrinth is forever,
Within a fourth dimension.

It’s time …

You love me, right?
YOU LOVE ME, RIGHT?
    Yes, No, Ohhh (the audience).

DO-MI-NA-TION
DEATH FREE
DO-MI-NA-TION
ASH FREE

Lost in the labyrinth: a journey to an exit.
The Overground train pulls!
And from floor to ceiling,
Between vertical orange pins,
A medley of languid listless limbs lulls,
       Seated hips,
       Angled legs,
       Dangling feet,
And neck-less heads,
Lost, ghoul-like,
The disconcerted move doggedly on,
Everywhere somewhere; but forever nowhere
Through London's hills and bogs.

From  STOP to STOP,
In the labyrinthine network,
In tubes splayed out on cubes,
Of bright brushed viscose comfort,
Overhead, the ads exhort:

       Top Up Your Soul,
       Fast Forward Your Escape
And
       uSwipe
       uSwitch
       uSave

Like these,
A hundred escalating messages,
Each more insistent than the last,
Compel, enough to distract,
So man’s desire enslaves his heart.

Its time…

         You love, right?
YOU LOVE, RIGHT?
    Yes, No, Ohhh (the audience).

DO-MI-NA-TION
DEATH FREE
DO-MI-NA-TION
ASH FREE

How? Why?
Has bacterial sludge,
Built these edifices of glass and steel.
This labyrinthian cage,
Whose walls race up at the speed of light,
While the inner commuter flame gutters,
Everywher, in multiverses,
Supernovas explode in showers.
And for a moment, in the moment, The Overground chromatic glows.

New Cross Gate, Canada Water, Southwark.

Lit and digital and LCD:
        
  ALL CHANGE, PLEASE.
  THIS TRAIN TERMINATES HERE

A few automated steps, and:
       Southwark,
       Green Park,
       Then Baker Street,
Appear, fade and disappear.

Now walking down Belsize Road,
On the evening of the
Super Gibbous Moon,
As it rises high over the Ziggurat dimensions of the Alexandra Estate,
And all is blood orange at dusk,
As I, a slinking silhouette,
Make for the event horizon of home,
For surely given, and taken,
A few more bends, another turn,

It’s time, again.

         Love, right?
         LOVE, RIGHT?
    Yes, No, Ohhh (the audience).

DO-MI-NA-TION
DEATH FREE
DO-MI-NA-TION
FREE ME.

To the event horizon of consciousness,
To that black hole at the core.
In death's star-like eye,
Embrace, pass through,
(Fear not),
On, through the labyrinth northward,
Entering and exiting,
We go awhile, a little longer.

Stars, my Stars,
Again, it's time.

You love me, right?
YOU LOVE ME, RIGHT?
Yes, No, Ohhh (the audience).

SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL
SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL
DEATH FREE.
LOVE!
BE,
WINGS FREE:

     SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL

One more stop:

       New Bond Street.

GET BEYOND
DESIRE,
BEYOND THE LABYRINTHEAN LIE,
CONSUMER, DIE!
BE
MATERIAL FREE.

Last stop:

       No-name, this one:

BE:

     SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL.

SAY IT:

     SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL
     SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL
     DEATH FREE.
     LOVE!
     BE,
     WINGS FREE:
    
     WE ARE:
     SU-PER-NA-TU-RAL
Dedicated to Steven Hawking, RIP, this poem is designed to be read to a live audience. To this effect, it was performed at the Hundred Year Gallery in Hoxton, London, and has been altered considerably ahead of being performed at The Mediterranean Cafe, Berwick Street, in Soho, London. All welcome, March 28th at 7pm.
You are my
Ensorcelled Elysium,
You are my
Eden Dream.

You cascade
Upon my Dreamscape,
Enshrine my slumber in
A flowered gale of aromatic petals
That envelop me, beckon me
To herald the rebirth
Of Days of Yore.

You vein
The Glistening Glade of Memories
With your
Brooks of Aqueous Emerald.

Tis' the
Phantasmagoric Plane
Where still
My wayworn spirit wanders, wearily
In search of the magic
To enfetter
The Hands of Fate
(For they conspire against us).

Swifter than your descent
Into my soul
(Five seconds still and flat)
By
The nexus of your affections,
You evanesced
Like vapor,
Yet
I shall not concede to
The Malevolent Matriarch of Destiny.

For you
O, Breath of Life,
Forsook me not
So I sublime all stains
Tarnishing my flesh
By cries to The Ethereal.

At midday
Awaiting the Twilight
I long for
The birth of The Womb of Aether’s
Progeny,
Starlit winds.

I muse
Swimmingly in Seas of Reminiscence,
Banished from that Blackened Bastion
Of Shadowed Heavens,
For when darkness shrouds
My dreams can be seen
Draping the skies.

I then fathom,
You must not be far off,
Wishing,
Hoping,
Believing
That perhaps
You too
Wonder upon stars
Longing to find that one
That entwines us anew.

You shall alight,
Upon me once more
As
August Sun’s Nimbus
(If only for a moment)
Is thwarted
By
Ebony Miasma
That drenches Cimmerian skies.

In search
Of Ardor’s Light abiding in
The Sylvan Shrine of Your Numinous Eyes
I plead that
The Crag oppress
The Coals of Tribulation,
Until my anguish is
A Diamond Heart.

The pilgrimage
I must bear,
Must be traveled by
The Adamantine alone.

Where have you gone,
Tree of Life?
Why have you withered,
Yggdrasil?

Do I possess
The Eradia of Souls,
By which you shall
Effloresce?

I would halt the cogs of time,
Relinquish my liberty,
To slumber for eternity
In crystal stasis
By your side.

Even in that crystalline quietude,
I would be eminent,
I would be exalted,
I would be ennobled,
In the knowingness that
Your
Stalwart Heart
Radiates
Just beside me.

I exhale Empyrean Winds
When rapt in reverie,
Yearning to be
Captive to your devotion,
Yours alone.

The Bliss of Your Most Holy Kiss
Would signet me
With the
Bounty of Your Name
Burnishing the skin
On my lips.

Though ephemeral,
Your presence divined,
Your presence
Was my anointing.

To be solaced
By the astral resonance emitted
By your touch
Sent the
Pulse of Nirvana
Surging, rippling,
Like a kaleidoscope tide,
Down my spine

You are
The Waters of Vitality
That floweth from
The Creeks of Eden,

You have been
Poured upon my palate
From the
Goblet of Redemption
That I may drinketh
Of
Supernal immortality.

When once again we meet,
Perhaps the tears you summoned
From my spirit
By your
Stirring caress
Shall have absolved me
Of the pangs
In loving a man
(And man alone).

Perhaps then,
The sentiments
I pine to profess,
Will resound.

A melody
Sung in legato,
A  mellifluous melisma,
Flawlessly delineated
And
Intonation in deiform
Or perhaps,
Flowering fioritura
Lacing airwaves,
By the Empress Coloratura.

Perhaps then, piety
Betwixt you and I,
Will waft the air
And I might then,
Permit my quaking body
To succumb to
You alone.

Until that morn,
I shall be vigilant,
Counting the Dawns,
Counting the Twilights,
Until
I can gaze
Into your forested eyes
If even for but a moment.

For even but a moment
Spent with you,
Will bleed a nostalgia
Across my mind's sky,
Painting clouds crimson with passion,
And
That I shall revere,
And
That shall last
And last
And,
Last… And
Last.

O, it will last,
To Elysian Infinity.


            I am a vestige,
               But I shall live once more,
                  In the light of memories
                       That blossom, are perennial,
                           And imbibe the dazed glory of the past
                       Until the past is vanquished
                 By a future that is fragrant
             With the mist of romance
          And eclipses the simulacrum,
       A fictitious sun of the infernal masquerade,
    The antithesis of the truest holy,
Then, rapture of life shall mystify no longer,
For the Numen of Truth,
  Shall cleanse creation without a drop of façade,
      His Providence shall emancipate the hollow,
             The Death of Dreams shall writhe
               In everlasting abeyance,
                 Absolving our wayward spirits,
                  The Winds of Change,
                  The Scourge of Pain,
               And
          The Loveless Wraiths
        That haunted our husks
      Shall be transcended for aeons,
  And tribulation made distant, made nebulous
As the Genesis of Time and Space itself
  For we embark on an exodus,
     Beseeching salvation to redeem us
        When the Requiem of Iniquity
           Is triumphed by everlasting cadence.

Be Valiant,
                 Be Sapient,
                             Be Love
                                       And
                                          By this
                                                You shall conquer the world
                                                           ∞
Hello my fellow comrades! This piece was originally written as a means of catharsis. I wanted to express the romantic sentiments begotten by an individual who deliquesced from my world as swiftly as they arrived. I hope you guys can glean virtues of humanity, poignancy, candor, and (an organic) transparency in this piece. I want to impress the density of reverence pulsing in my heart for the person who enraptured me by the thew of their tenderness and kindred spirit.

Hopefully the massive length of this piece does not deter from reading its contents. Holistically speaking, the volume of content in this piece is the metaphorical incarnation of the Ocean of Affection that ebbs and flows within my soul (for this individual). I would love to improve, so if you have any constructive feedback you'd like to convey I would be most grateful. Anyhow, I hope that on some level you can connect with the overtones of undying piety in love that deluge this piece. Thank you all for reading and God bless!
Madeline Harper Oct 2018
As these forlorn cadences await- unfold
To compose a disbanded vow
Yielding unto harrows of gates untold
Charms death to disdainful plow

Death is plowed to a forgiving halt
While silver moonlight and whiskey dances remain
Glittering gold in this crimson vault-
Feeble souls conjure grace as graceless minds abstain

Counterfeit conceits ravish this open cellar
As the night’s last dance ceases to a disgraceful plea
The dweller’s disdain is akin to my killer
And heaven yields blood to salt the earth for thee

Come away now with your anguishing defeats
Seek not a jagged spike as the heaven’s conspire and wake
Glory and gold may turn us black as deceit
But deception admonishes the dancers in their quake

Spellbound nuances of this reality await at every turn
Mourning and fighting the finality of this grave
Orchestrated knives are rosined like honey, beckoning our blood to burn
At last, a burning reckoning comes to ravage the brave

But refrain, oh killer- host of this crimson vault
Enlist a memoir for our sins
Recalling the pieties of our gracious faults,
Enough to make this blood go thin.
This poem was abstractly written to describe a scene of death among ballroom dance and the last dancer responsible for the tragedy.
It is a watching along
Advice determines voice
You can get to prepare one to say yes, one to say no
Crime gets into
The world is so big
Not everyone we know

I told my students
God does not conspire
The life I know

Do life alignments through employment
Don’t cut hands with a *****
When the accident happened
Every passerby got pleasure slapping the innocent man.

Dr Baljit Singh
Tuesday, 7th May 20109
Josh Vork Jan 16
Clarity
As if a rare flower
Found only in the depths
Of remote jungles
Eludes me

Searching
For that which cannot be found
The Loch Ness monster
Atlantis and focus
All are a myth

Fog
Ever present
Clouds cover my mind
Engulfing my thoughts
Choking their oxygen

Brain
Zig zags about
From one idea to the next
Like a wild horse
With no reigns

Stomach
Churns with anxiety
As I force these words
Onto a screen
For someone to read

Writing
Not a chore
Though today my love
Is work
Like any relationship

Fault
Lies with no one in particular
But all parties
Equally culpable
We struggle together

Together
We stay
I will not leave
Nor will you
So we press on

Perseverance
In the face of adversity
Like a bunny chased
By a hungry fox
I will not give up

Together
Mind, body, soul
We conspire to create
Somedays greatness
Others - just something
One can conspire
And become one
Against the one
Who began the brood,

One can aspire
To break the bond
Against the one
Who bought around
.

One can inspire
It's future progeny
To become similar
When time comes,

One can desire
To save the wrath
Against the ill
He plans to act
,

One can be assured
Nothing of the sort
No mercy for
conspirators
In the end,

Showing ignorance
Doesn't help either
Actions done on your
name are counted too
,

Make sure no one
uses one as tool
For one is responsible
For one's soul,

Hell and Heaven
Is both on Earth
One have to answer
All the questions here
,

When the time is good
Perform better deeds
When the time will come
Destiny will speak,

Deeds of past
Pay for the future .
Actions of today..
Decide Tomorrow
Better
Or
Worse

.

Sparkle In Wisdom
24 Jan 2019
Part of teaching series for young ones
Venus in Scorpio Oct 2018
She was tough

Just how I like them

Soft when I laid beside her

a companion

She made me laugh when I was drowning

Her eyes made me love her

She was a fabrication of my subconscious desire

How manipulative our minds conspire

They reel us in with lofty dreams of the life we ought to be living

And so we wake up grinning

then wishing and missing the feeling that was just there

The look in her eyes she didn’t mind If I stared

I stroked my fingers through her soft hair

over and over as we talked through the night

My best friend was there and she only comes to visit whenever I might lose it from the daily pressures of modern life

We talked about how our soul feels when we’re together

How we’ve just gotten lucky and nothing could sever us apart

But the sound of a phone alarm rings in the distance and it’s my time to go

I hope to see her again sometime soon

But for now her presence lingers in my heart

I still hear her laugh and see her smile

It brings me warmth accompanied by emptiness
Eryri Dec 2018
Acknowledge the knowledge:
Accept it is there.
Dissonance is ignorance:
Neither here nor there.
There it is, as plain as day:
It is not going away.
Demon drink
Taken you to the brink
But still you fail to grasp
That others aren't always to blame,
That circumstances don't conspire,
That fate doesn't deem it too late,
For if you can move to contemplation,
Then you could still resist temptation,
So, before your will is trampled,
Let's discuss the undiscussable:
The Elephant in your head.
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