"conspires" poems
if you wish to be a warrior prepare to be broken.
if you wish to be a explorer prepare to get lost, and if you wish to be a lover prepare to be both.
to be a lover meaning you possess a feeling, a spell or desire.
that irresistible urge to be with someone.
that heavenly union, that destiny conspires.
to be a lover takes strength like a warrior. such as loving a person, even when they gave you a thousand reasons not to. to be a lover takes some exploring. a mere attachment, or infatuation. a bond or a yearning? getting lost on what loves really means.
to be a lover we sometimes seek what it means when all its about is, the intermingling of 2 souls, come together to form a whole. we look to deeply to decipher love to code the way in which the caged creature works,
we learn, get hurt, grow love, repeat.
to ever extract its true essence is tough...
Are you ready to be a lover?
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 6:18 AM UTC
Winds from far foreign climes beats upon the Lizard rocks
Gulls driven towards the blackest of crags, yet pass over safely inland
In the darkest skies they wheel and spin as if torn by some giant’s hand
White horses gallop crests of waves as they rush towards tiny harbours
There to crash savagely and rend cut stones from their secured places
Men work to save their boats, fighting the storm which mothers sent
Nature conspires to take their very lives as they struggle with her might
Rocks gnash their teeth and boats not safe yet, pass near their faces
Hoping for the safety of their port, men’s white faces line their gunwales
Black, white, red, blue and yellow, boats colours lost within the spray
These same boats that forge the men they carry out upon the sea’s wrath
But now just seek to bring them safely home to their worried wives
Their women stand upon the quay or stare worried from their windows
Churchyards on the hills above seaside villages filled with headstones
Men’s deaths caused by storms in past times of fishing for their living
Leaving spouses, their children to carry on their traditions and religion
Headstones cut from the very granite of the weather worn Lizard cliffs
Menfolk deep beneath the Cornish loam, there to rest for all eternity
Whilst below in the thrashing storm, the families fight once again
Then as quickly as it came, the storm blows out, waters return to placid
Men stretch their aching backs, those hidden from storm turn out
The seaman’s mission helps as it can the fractured families
And church maybe rings for those lost out to sea, never to be seen again
There will be time to mourn, and the village will then lament together
And those who are left, they return to their sacred craft of netting fish
Return to shining calm, to ply their trade, to bring food to this isles shore
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
lovers are burning.] balsamic ****** gallops from shame
into the overwild wetness of labial volcanoes, caramelized in musk. by love's labor.
laid bare, their bodies origami inhibition...[ lovers are burning. ]
and surrender is victorious !
Eros is speechless. maidens howl into cumulus goose-down, chewing carnal haikus
with swayed backs.... hips wide and wanton. masculine wands plow oyster beds, unmade.
they joust pearls... and [ lovers are burning ]
.... a damp conflagration; tongue stoked and windswept, conspires.
monotony is slain !
puritan harps are plucked and thrummed ! lewd harmonies anoint the perfect pitch
and a chorus moans. the ghost of sylvia plath, straddles Apollo; and he earns his wreath
surging besotted. [ lovers are burning ] and laurels forgotten.
lotharios charge the seldom road; the starfish door to Saturn's parlor.
pumping unbridled, that glistening, cloven moon. her riding crop insists !
his urgency must do.
satyrs sup salaciously and summon staves to dip in brine. they grin and grind
their sutras, stripping karma gears with silk scarves. ankles to a post, well spread...
cushions crush. flowers press... stamen fed.
nymphs clutch their serpent stones
to drain what nectar slips the slit. they ***** and throat.
they peck and pinch their quivers; knock their arrows to the purpose, half spent.
[ lovers are burning ]
eyes ablaze. nostrils fetch randy fumes of consent. mouths seek.
a pouty swamp with Spanish moss.... finds a matador
and a bull, a china shop.
lovers are burning the rough sketch of a lost god
and their angels are voyeurs
with unclean thoughts
for gospels.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 3:14 PM UTC
Aspirations ,prayers,wishes and more,
When it is right ,it's definitely right!
The universe conspires to create miracles and one such miracle is you !
The smell of a familiar me ,connected with cords ,cut but uncut long after they are only to hold you in my arms now connected through heartbeats and love growing strong.
The tiny , soft fingers bound around tightly ,
The twinkle seen through half closed eyes.
Tender skin as soft as snow , whats
there to ask for more ?
A bundle of joy and happiness came fore !
So they say when the time is right , it of course is !
In my hearts core I knew long before,
God choose to give me the best .
Thee! extraordinary from the rest .
A tessellation of wishes came to surface in a matter of time and test .
Your addition to my life brought in a sense of peace ,pride and profoundness.
Rearing to take on the world gearing to accept responsibility.
Surviving every obstacle , a Lioness closely guards and protects her cub , to see him grow into thee "King of the Jungle "
©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 8:13 AM UTC
It's a confusing puzzle,
But still holds true:
You can't live with me;
I can't live without you.
Life is but a journey,
I chose to go through with you;
But now that you won't have me,
It's hard for me to continue.
Fate is a bitter cruel harpy,
With her sisters she conspires
For the death of my Love,
As your Love for me transpires!
Hope is a painful therapy,
It burns while nursing Time's stabs;
But the scars strengthen Experience,
As it assists to keep Reason's tabs.
Love and Reason are antithesis,
That can't co-exist;
But their affinity is such
That to be together they persist.
Perfection in Love is when
There is room for Reason;
But when Reason and Logic court,
Love calls it Treason!
Love is unfair and immature,
And still as pure as a dove;
But there's no use of Reason,
With the death of Love.
This poem is an analogy:
Which in life stands true;
It's no use of me loving you,
If there's no hope for you to love me too.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Do, re, tiring me.
Fa, So, Latte sounds good.
A sale on tea?
Do ti la "So, how are your scales going?"
My teacher calls; he wants to know.
"FAr from REady." I admit.
I tried to practice steady,
but store had a sale today, so I quit.
"You'll never make the grade like that;
Devote every hour" He says with a glower.
"Go practice your bow. Coffee can wait."
He's right of course, but I still take the bait.
How's a someone like me
expected to practice enthusiastically?
What's a musician without caffeine to keep his lights turned to "go"?
When the coffee shop conspires to take all my hard earned DOugh?
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 9:11 PM UTC
I plucked my soul out of its secret place,
And held it to the mirror of my eye,
To see it like a star against the sky,
A twitching body quivering in space,
A spark of passion shining on my face.
And I explored it to determine why
This awful key to my infinity
Conspires to rob me of sweet joy and grace.
And if the sign may not be fully read,
If I can comprehend but not control,
I need not gloom my days with futile dread,
Because I see a part and not the whole.
Contemplating the strange, I'm comforted
By this narcotic thought: I know my soul.
2.3k
Dance for me this one last time,
Tease me naked, sweet pantomime,
Slip-slide your dress but stay your shoes,
Swing-sway your hips, my gorgeous muse.
Wrap round your arms, a prisoner’s chains,
Make me confess and make me strain,
Offer, tempt me, tease me, sting,
Dance for me and my nomad queen.
Twitter tongues, all kiss no tell,
Secrets, whispers, rumours swell ,
Lies ignite, sparks lust to fire,
Dance for me til death conspires.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 12:57 PM UTC
I feel the world at
times conspires to make true my
basic discontent.
May 8, 2025
May 8, 2025 at 2:42 AM UTC
Effortless dust conspires with the ephemeral wind's devious desires
Lucid time transpires, while the illusion of life prevails then expires
When I need you, you're elusive, fleeting and distant
When I have you, you're abusive, cheating and resistant
When I leave you, you're reclusive, retreating, and nonexistent
When I bereave you, you're conclusive, defeating, and insistent
I rely on you to pass, mend and heal all my wounds, and cleanse the stain
I admire you in class, am reminded on full moons, and lose you in the rain
Blatant slaps in the face, blessed with you to waste, then we ask what you're worth
Silent gaps lost in space, stressed with a virgin's chaste, been by her side since birth
Eat the scraps fall from grace, obsessed with the taste, so many hungry facing dearth
Burned maps without a trace, pressed to make haste, as you tick down upon the earth
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 12:11 AM UTC
I feel as if, the world conspires against me. Wondering day by day just how it is going to get in my way. Gone it seems has the flavor that colored my actions with interest. Left only with the barest of actions that inspire the desire and thirst for life. I feel as if I labor in vain like Sisyphus cursed to push my ambitions up the hill of my toil just to have them rolled back to where I began. I grow weary of this existence, tire easily at this fate. My mind finds an escape to wonder blissfully of paths never taken of how good life could have easily been. And so I begin to question my self as I sit alone on this abysmal shelf with nothing more than my thoughts to keep me company. What is the point of this seemingly pointless journey. Why do I toil like a simple servant advancing the goals of others while mine own sit there neglected. It is a question that I on many a occasion have reflected, as I stood time and time again bereft of any goal or ideal. Is it merely character that is being built, others will tell me that I build morals that will serve me in my future. Still others commend me for the sacrifice I show, and for a time I grow content with that. But in the end I find that I have not moved, have not progressed in anyway that I can see. So I go on to deep myself worthless, and my mind and body dull from their lack of use. I have ambition more than I can handle. What I seem to continually lack is the resource then the resolve to see it to completion. I see the ones who have climbed to the heavens to dine with God himself and I ask myself. What do I miss? What don't I know? What has escaped me such that I cannot seem to soar higher than this meager place. And yet an answer does not show it's self to me. And so I stay and ponder these things. Where the answer will come I do not know. Where I will go, I have nothing but the question mark as an answer to show. But somehow I know that someday I shall move past this blocked way. And there lies the hope I hold closely that in the end my work and my toil will not be wasted. Not be put under the tag of useless. I hold that hope and that is the way I continue to press my way through this world.
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 5:31 PM UTC
hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life
times are tough
more than ever;
bills come at the speed of bullets
taxes gather like summer flies
and debts ricochet against our walls;
the banks want more and more
but there's just air in our pockets
hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life
the jobs dry up and
the dollars dwindle into cents;
permanent becomes temp
and temp becomes non-existent;
full-time goes into part-time
and part-time into casual
and casual into zilch
hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life
nature conspires with the economy,
sweetheart:
she sends rains and fire and landslides;
she claws sands off the beaches and
all we have left are
government ******** and *******
who care a hoot about our fish and chips
hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life
time's not on our side either, sweetheart;
mind you, with mighty puffed cheeks
he blows H1N1 flu round the globe
and so sends people and customers away
and those who remain turn cheap and nasty
and all these pigs want are discounts and freebies
hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life
the collection agencies are knocking, dear -
it sounds much like the knock of death
in Beethoven's ninth;
the mortgage barbarians are on their horses
and they send writs and auction threats
and re-possessions
hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life
O hang on, sweetheart,
hang on tight:
many will fall, many will bleed
but those who hang on tight
and those who can love
those who can dream together
they will ride the nights out into clear day
hang on tight, baby -
keep your senses wide
for we're going on a roller-coaster ride;
scream as much
but just hang on tight, baby -
hang on for dear life
Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 8:30 PM UTC
Things aren't going in my favour..
It's like the universe conspires against me
May be I don't deserve her,
May be I am not good enough
What happened? Where did I go wrong?
There is a wall between me and my abilities
I let them down... I let myself down. I don't know what to do
Why?
Why can't I just do this, this one thing?
I don't feel like going out.. I don't want them to see my weakness
I don't want to be happy, because this important thing has become the centre of my universe, and my inability to do this is ruining my self worth
Can I ever be happy?
Can I take this load off my mind, these shackles that make it hard to breathe?
The weight of the world and its responsibilities is slowly killing me
I'll fix it, I'll try and fix it.. Its been three weeks, I know I am late, but I will fix it, even though there are a hundred others things I can get done
I know I can do this, I have done it before.. and yet, there is a lurking fog in my mind that is not letting me think clearly
I wish I could just give everything up
*I don't want to be with them, I don't want to be the worthless piece of **** in the room, in any room. I don't deserve them anyways*
I happened to land the job my chance, I don't know if I am good enough for it
Would she ever notice me? .. why would she ever love someone like me?
I think I don't love myself. I don't know how
The night is good.. no people. No one to deal with, no one to remind me of how incompetent I am at life. Escaping
Let me take a nap, I think it'll help sort my thoughts out
... I'll do it later. I'm not in the mood right now, not feeling it
I am scared. I am lonely
I wonder how much easier everyone's life would be, if I just died, or never existed..
Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 5:36 PM UTC
Didn’t I hear you say the lawn I would mow?
Sundays come and Sundays go.
Grasses are taller so are the ****
Season is going where’s the flower seed?
Words aren’t taxed you use them free
Said this Sunday you would clean the chimney.
Wash the toilet scrub clean the commode
Sundays come piles up workload.
Lot of things to mend lots to replace
Why Sundays trudge in leisurely pace?
Why the bed conspires the morn breathes chill
Why must I lie back to get the Sunday feel?
Why Sunday is one day and not a whole week
Comes up the Monday devilish and bleak!
Sundays will come and Sundays will go
As for my work only a poem or two to show!
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 6:12 AM UTC
It's hard to change any cult
More so the jealous from the occult
Faculty of the melting mold of mind
Zealous of inflicting conflicts of all kind
To the just and graceful among mankind.
Brazenly different from vogue dears
conspires to inspire its rogue peers
To smear even slur on godly seers.
Constantly configures to figure out,
Anything, by any means to spy out
The faintest attribute of the virtuous
Contributes to trigger the rash jealous
To fling out and pierce the gall
to gush out to spread and stall
The arteries, nerves to blood-en
the face and the cheeks to redden
Nose and the chin to harden
Ear lobs to burn and burden.
The jealous is well known
Yet the cause is unknown
Why does it vent its ire
Dent and impair the fair
Engage in freelance
To abuse in parlance
In parliaments of vanity fair
The evil avail many a company
Of gluttons, covetous avaricious
sloth, sensuous pride and many
Engage merely to rage in ferocious
Fire, the fuel of the evil in the savage dark ages
obsessed in rampage and carnage
All celebrations become aberrations
Of the essence of celestial presence
The din dares to dampen the spiritual
Asphyx the specifics in fad rituals
It is difficult to change the cult
of the stinky melting mold
of the evil minds that find
new felony ways to inflict conflicts
To the just and graceful lives
of the peace loving among mankind.
Dec 14, 2018
Dec 14, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
(RDD-BBA)
~~~~
The universe conspires as mirror to mine soul's eye,
I see myself as best friend
Or worst enemy.
I feel and see thy painted canvas in mine sky,
turning blue, with clouds
of white, trees of green.
Treasure map on hand.
And lullaby in mind's eye
Thine courage wisdom, grace my true north compass is.
First time I ever saw thee
Mine lovers face !
The poetess in me began
in poem to trace it's magic.
The friend in my mirror,
I now see is also thee.
And in thy mirror
yee too can see me.
Confidant, I love thee.
I sow myself in mirror clearly
and I learned to love
myself in thine eyes poetry.
Thine wild bird of paradise
I too in word paint.
The best poetry we devour
and share fully, roots
from our own hearts,
Forever in love.
~~~~~~
Karijinbba- rdd/bba
at Mr and Mrs Andrews.
Jul 19, 2021
Jul 19, 2021 at 4:18 PM UTC
the survivors of Auschwitz
put god on trial in absentia
and sentenced him to death.
a fitting end
for a supposedly
omnipotent deity
that couldn’t be bothered
to lift a finger.
if the cross was god’s
critique of power
then why is fascism
on the rise once more?
if Jesus died
for the lost sheep,
then why are politicians
evoking his name
while banishing refugees?
where was the love of god
when our cluster-bombs fell
on kids playing soccer
in Palestine
and U.S. drone strikes
stole the lives
of a wedding party
in Yemen?
if god is not surely dead
then he was never real
in the first place.
Stendhal had it right all along:
god's only excuse
is that he does not exist.
but i met a girl
who so loved the world
that she’d give her life
for a stranger in an instant.
her name means “helper.”
she is fragile as bone
and sturdy as ancient oak.
she is the only tangible reality
in a world henceforth
without gods or masters.
and i’m watching her wither away.
so i petition
the nebulae
watching over
this pale blue dot
not to avert their eyes.
this heroine of mine,
made in the heart
of a dying star,
would sacrifice her life
for the least of these.
but i am selfish.
i want her to stay,
to stand up and fight,
poison-free.
and if the universe conspires
to take her life, then i will find
the tomb of god and bring
him back from the dead
just to strangle him again.
stay with me, always,
through the long night.
help me heal this silent planet.
if god will not love this earth,
then we will.
heal us of our war, our hate,
our addiction.
i cannot abide a world without you.
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 6:05 AM UTC
Anesthesia seeps into me and settles
like plaque into my arteries
where it converses with my blood.
I let its ugly yellow fingers swagger through,
waving their malicious banners
proclaiming my surrender.
My lungs breathe chafing dust
that conspires
and leaves me suffocating
under the silent sands of guilt
that build up into graceful dunes.
My mind loves the desert in my lungs
despite the lifeless contours;
it is far away, removed and sees
a sweeping landscape, patterned
by the winds, my rattling breath.
But my heart lives next door
to that forsaken terrain.
It feels the pain of the parched *****
gone unacknowledged by my mind.
It feels the lecherous caress
of the ugly yellow fingers
that violate my blood,
stroking, disgustingly, inside my veins.
Still my mind remains
Doorless
Windowless
Refusing to see.
Serenely smooth, impenetrable Reason.
My heart has no hands
to hold a hammer or a sword.
Yet Your tongue is a sword,
Your words a hammer of consciousness,
Your expression the oil to reignite
shimmering embers buried under ashes.
My mind’s shield becomes an eggshell—
it shatters, flinging shards away,
letting the newly lit inferno roar
through every capillary, burning away
the ugly yellow fingers.
Winds from within gust through my lungs,
force the desert from my chest.
The sand rends my throat and lips
in its storm of escape,
and the blissful tears that rain from my eyes
quench my arid lungs.
The fire recedes into my heart, where it burns
white-hot and pure—
My eternal sun that gleams within,
to You, I surrender.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 12:19 AM UTC
Let me love you
Love you tender
I'll hold it above you
You'll always remember
Let me kiss you
Lips of fire
My burn won't miss you
My soul conspires
Let me feel you
**** sedation
Hook and reel you
Primal predation
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
From out of space my love re appeared
and fast I ran away disbelieving.
while hunted by webs
of predators in greed modes
trashing impeccable character
inborn parenthood trait
courage, heart skill grace,
as weapons eluding chase
avating jealousy outface.
Each grotesque stunt
trampled me to fall in pain.
losing all crops of my hard labour scenarious so turbulent to depict.
in any story poetry or book
My love spark within outlived
travesty and misery sent in.
From an ancient love spell
propelled a new lovers aim
following me with grace
deep as space, honor truth
understanding patience
Twin loss, twin dreams
Experiences base the glue.
Large as the cosmos we both
Phathom, thirst, crave and love.
Synchronicity in telepathy;
the cosmos conspires offering
cards to read virtual modes
to explore our receptiveness.
Our loving is a Deja-VU indeed.
An ancient powerhouse,
with outworldly, genetic legacies
We both share in our weave.
a hybrid mutant Adam and Eve.
Who's my mystic
beloved?A brightest star
over Jaipur! Intergalactic,
art at heart.
Poet verse, he's honey bee.
His aim is firm as his name
He is me I am him within!
similar avatar in the outside
We tingle a double mystic smile.
A magnetic vortex keep us both
In one LOVEz voyage loop,
through space.🐝🐝🛸.
His vessel his gates his hands
His mind,heart, soul is my own.
Nothing and no one can pull us
apart, we call HP our
time machine to beyond
Alpha Century bound.
Thus, a billion stars cinthilate
with gentle beams of hope
Antimatter lovers lane
And our heart Rd-Ad
our home.🦋🦋.
~~~~
By: Karijinbba.
Inspired by- Good better best MOI.
Aug 5, 2021
Aug 5, 2021 at 11:33 AM UTC
For too long I loved you dear.
I fear no evil I destroy it.
Wake up, don't think of death.
A new graceful soul invites me,
for a walk in his forest land;
into his wooded lands.
Peacocks mate nearby there
RD's awesome pink city skies.
His secret Island shores divine.
I love that RD's name resounds,
with yours dear ancient Rich.
He is identical to your inner matrix.
His loving art soul treats and likes.
I share our love in his cradle gates.
your Rod and staff did comfort me.
Thank you my guardian Angel.
From that road to this loverz
grass needing wear, I love him,
in his own golden light.
I see you Rick inside RD's soul.
He's mine to love and cherish.
I'm exlussive to RD.
Mind vessel art and soul.
Rd is darest purest
to my heart, I'm not his chore.
The wise universe conspires
we are doing just fine
alone no more.
~~~~
By Karijinbba.
Aug 9, 2021
Aug 9, 2021 at 4:56 PM UTC