Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kolour Fabriken Dec 2016
Loveliest thou art
Loveliest thou arc
Soaring, Vexing
Stare

Loveliest thy frame
Loveliest thy name
Sonorous, prideful
Glare

Loveliest thy peach
Loveliest thy seat
Savages, hiding
Leer

Loveliest thy shadow
Loveliest, my fauve
Sinews bounding
Free

Loveliest thy bump
Loveliest thy ****
Suppling platinum feels

Loveliest thy reverb
Loveliest thy pluck
Screaming sound and
Color

Loveliest thy Sunflower
Loveliest thy Star
As an Asteraceae
Loveliest by far
ThePoet May 2016
The dusk made up of darkness
The dawn contained of light
As you were the break of day
I was the shadow of night

The bad made up of blackness
The good contained of white
As I was everything wrong 
You were everything right
nova Jan 2019
i have spent far too much of my life
building towering walls with no arches, without windows
without any view to the outside world.
i would much rather have liked it if i would have built fences instead.
fences are moveable.
you can push the rows and rows of wire or wood a foot to the north
or a foot to the south
or make a curve in the line.
fences don't block everything out,
they don't keep everything in,
and they don't hurt as much when they fall.
walls, on the other hand,
crash
and burn
and take months and months to rebuild.
fences?
fences can be put up in a day or two
depending on how difficult you want it to be to get in/get out;
fences can be taken down in a day or two
depending on how easy you want it to be to get out/get in.
Ashley Chapman Jun 2018
We fall,
and hard,
and in the shadows,
***** ourselves on snags,
that tear our clothes;
grazed and cut,
we stagger on -
Impressions, ideas, fancies!
Of these have we been disabused.

But is this spring,
come again?

Lovely,
yesterday,
in the bright sunlight,
to see you,
felt green hat in among the photo clouds,
apple suedes on the gallery's dank floor.

Melvyn,  
and I,
merrily circling with you the light cloud images,
my nostrils full of pollen spikes.
The pictures:
wisps of trailing dreams churning in ‘scapes of infinite blue;
dark clouds,
in amongst them,
too.

Photographs in two time places
caught;
at once, all:
the other and t'other.

So excitement swells,
and everything besides us quells,
because the knowing of itself,
knows,
and dares beyond the frames;
to skirt knowingly the unsaid;
to want beyond the wounded past,
to pull things,
once again,
inside out.

In whimsy’s currents flow these thoughts,
these feelings,
these drives;
swirling in eddies,
so that as you sit,
on a summer’s day,
it moves,
a mirror to everything above.

The wavelets on the surface,
hammered into shape,
burn, bite and dazzle;
the sun’s flames leaping and dancing on ripples.

In the basement,
on the concrete,
your Y proneness shifts,
releasing knees on black-clad thighs;
two pendulums swinging,
brushing;
yawing metronomes in the cool,
coolness of my desultory thoughts.

Oh, what am I saying?
Feelings like reveries walk along these silver lips straying languorously.
These myths are too soon made,
carried one to the next,
one-on-one,
until contained no longer,
become new truths.
Visited an East End London picture gallery with a friend. Later, she texted me and said she had been called a *****, and I said, we're all that, too. Then I wanted to defend her by describing the intoxicting effect of her connection with me: her beauty.
Carter Ginter Oct 2012
Life is lonely when you learn to deal on your own.
A simple task becomes a challenge and a minute turns into an eternity.
When the world turns its nose, when there isn’t a friend to lean on;
When it becomes impossible to even pick up the phone.
Everything loses its potential in a fog of pain
The concept of trust holds no existence
Life becomes nothing and determination ceases.
Then control is lost over all the emotions contained.
L B Oct 2017
Andi Balise combined a half page of a short story, “Thanks Going Without Saying” by Liz Balise, with half a page of an essay by Klee, “On Modern Art”, from a book called Modern Artists on Art, 10 Unabridged Essays, edited by Robert L. Herbert. With some small edits and line-breaks comes this miracle of a poem:

Painting a Function Different

I peek out over the railing of reality’s magic
Beyond the porch-floor
Minerva hangs her wash
making the invisible visible
Eighty two and three quarters deaf
she doesn’t notice  
But this is, in fact, reality
Has always been this way—
Bent and bird-like existence  
Balanced on two twigs—always busy—

Her task, is the ******* of space  
Cutting coupons, crushing aluminum cans, ironing
The three phenomena which I must....

Things no one notices—
climbing on the abstract surface of a picture
Switching the curtains  
God! I wish from the infinity of space..she wouldn’t…!

It figures that—
Rusty, her cat, is weaving in fortune or misfortune  
I try to fix them—
Her ankles now
And she curses at accidental quality
from the corner of her mouth
which has only one form
Clothespin or cigarette?  
Long johns and animals and men in heaven
and bureau scarf and sheets—all, non-infinite deities
surround us translucent, contained
  
I decide what to get for her birthday—

We are good friends
through painting a function different

For me?
Predestined necessity.

Minerva?
forgets her manners
and eats like a survivor—

Thanks going without saying.
Thank you to my friend, Minerva for those years we shared living by the river.  And thanks, to my daughter, Andi, for seeing this poem in an academic assignment.

Art is what it is, imploring us to touch its experience.... It asks no approval.  It seldom gives reasons.
Pyrrha Jul 2018
I want
To fall in love with someones smile
To swoon under their gaze
To become dizzy with their touch

I want
To crave someone like an addiction
To nestle up to their warmth
To get an adrenaline rush from their scent

I want
To hold them and never let go
To tell them how much I love them everyday
To keep discovering them like it's my personal quest

I want
To give them my heart
To love them for all that they are
To keep them from the tainted world

I want
But what can I do with these contaminated hands?
How dare I try to hold them close with these hands of mine flowing thick with lies?
To tell them sweet nothings with my corrupted tongue?

My love
Is like a wildfire
Sudden, quick, and innocent
Without my permission my little spark turned into a flame
And consumed everything that contained a letter in your name

My love
Is like a wildfire
Untamed, ephemeral, and dangerous
It destroys all it touches,
Breaking barriers, burning bridges
It envelopes everyone in its warmth leaving no option but to run or turn to ash

Beware of my wildfire love
You cannot leave unscathed
I leave a scar

Beware of my wildfire, love
Because I'll burn enough for us both
I'll keep you warm on cold nights and dry on rainy days
I will set your heart ablaze and love you with all the force of my wildfire

Beware of my love,
It can't be forgotten nor replaced
This is the first time posting a poem on here as I am a new member, I hope whoever stumbles upon my work enjoys and relates!
Andrew Rueter May 2017
I see the rabbits feeding on the grass
My heart is filled with joy
Their life is precious
I see the vultures feeding on the rabbits
My heart is filled with joy
Their life is precious

That's what I never understood about coffins
Life is about expanding your prison cell as much as you can
There's no requirement to be contained once it's over
Our nutriance to the Earth
Is our nutrients into Earth
All creatures that die on this planet
Become a part of it
The Debt they paid to the future
The Debt that is always collected on
We travel nonchalantly on their corpses
Wishing they could appreciate
That each and every one of them
Was one step closer to sentience
This planet's passion project

Could the first single-celled organism
Comprehend my humiliation?
When the first creature walked on land
Was it anticipating my shame?
Did it sprout wings
To give me nightmares of dying in an airplane?
Did ancient Neanderthals dance around a fire
To reenact my adolescence?
Could mystic voodoo shaman
Cure my lack of agency?
Or did lost American tribesmen
Prophesize the complexities of my love?
I can feel all these ******* looking up at me from the ground
And it's just me
As I accidentally burn my notebook with a cigarette
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
https://www.amazon.com/Icy-Andrew-Rueter-ebook/dp/B07VDLZT9Y/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Icy+Andrew+Rueter&qid=1572980151&sr=8-1
Kolour Fabriken May 2018
through the thin fur of your forearm
i'll draw a zig-zag constellation
binding each freckle, one to the next
and trace an uncharted galaxy
contained on your skin

-

à travers la fine fourrure de votre avant-bras
Je vais dessiner une constellation en zig-zag
reliant chaque tache de rousseur, l'un à l'autre
et tracez une galaxie inexplorée
contenu sur votre peau
Dan Filcek Apr 2015
consciousness conceived as complex matrices
patterns contained within patterns.
magnetic anomaly brainwave synchronization
unrecognized vortex activity locations.
correlation amplification phenomena resonance.
measurable parameter brain wave activity
highly sensitive field fluctuations.
transducer low frequency geomagnetic pulsations
electromagnetic patterns: their associated chemical changes.
Weak intensity complex magnetic fields
generated earth hum technology affect
flux-gate sample collapsing fields
amplifier filter stages couples into analog digital converter.
experiments correlating local geophysical anomalies
earth's magnetic field changes consciousness.
single electromagnetic coupling mechanism
including spin-mediated neurons.
upsurge solar activity alters brain rhythms, hormonal levels
healing nature mystic experiences
anomalous cognition ******-physical phenomena.
internal model reality - subjective consciousness
addition computational capacity
existential status may need exotic physics
quantum entanglement and new forms of physical interaction
magnetic sensory cells induced meditative states
direct correlation shifts magnetic flux.
No active effort required.
Magnetic mineral aligned crystal chains
embedded biological membranes.
atomic sublattices of ferrimagnetic material
plausible theoretical mechanisms
mechanosensitive membrane ion gates
specific synergetic properties for transduction.
cuboctahedral morphology properties
jitterbugging vector equilibrium matrix basis tensegrity.
basic geometrical biological building blocks.
mystical red rock temples
Tracing disjunctive dislocations
Mother Earth speaks
Questions remain.
This year for Poetry Month, I decided to post a "found poem" every day. If writing a poem is like painting, a "found poem" is like sculpting. source - https://jcer.com/index.php/jcj/article/viewFile/318/343 - The Sedona Effect
P.
Beauty of my life
Sweetness of my heart
Reflection of my desires and lust
My soul and body can only do one thing when it comes to you
Adored, Adore and still Adoring
Every inch of you
Beauty in my eyes
keep on being this tenderness
Which warms the winter of my soul
Which lights the chimney of my body
You give me all that is good, peaceful and self-contained
You the reflection of my happiness
My white Spring Rose
My ocean is in your eyes
May this Love, be Love, Love, and a Lightening love
Kevarie O Leslie Feb 2016
Living in a blue expensive mansion
The richest man that ever lived
He was so rich and wise,
Not even king Solomon was as wise as him,
But for some reason he had two gardens
The first garden contained priceless flowers
Fair flowers that grew great blossoms,
And multiplied in there seasons
This beautiful garden was the rich man's joy.
The second garden contained cheap flowers
Gloomy flowers that bloomed no blossoms,
And never multiplied in there seasons
This homely garden was the rich man's sorrow
But the rich man had faith in the second garden,
And the gardener wonderful why
Then one day the rich man saw a tiny flower
A tiny flower growing in the midst of the garden
A tiny flower with humongous petals
Petals like unto the rainbow
Petals that dazzled in the sun
Then the rich man recognize the true purpose of life.
Andrew Rueter Jun 2017
I have a light under my concrete
For others
It is fatally luminous
So it must be contained
I relegate rays to the darkest depths
So no light may exit
But then you walked on my blacktop
And cracks started to form in my road
Light began to escape
You were fascinated
I was terrified
Because the more you traversed my pavement
The further my road split
Brilliant flashes with increasing frequency surfaced
Your curiosities were piqued
Mine were plagued
By what lies underneath
And when it would blind you

I tried to warn you from inside my cocoon
You said you'd purchase sunglasses
You never understood
This light
Shatters glass like Stone Cold Steve Austin
It's intensity is a stunner
It may be the Sun itself
But you insisted on continuing
To travel down this path

As models import wrinkles
Potholes become sinkholes
Fears were realized
Senses overwhelmed
Skin burned
Blackened
Into something unrecognizable
As all signs of life fade
I'm stranded on a crumbled road
With only sightless cadavers to lead me home
K Wolff Aug 2018
Here you are -
frozen in time.
Here i have captured
The warmth of your smile

Lines speak experience,
Framing ageless eyes.
Your infectious radiance
Tells me no lies.

No joy is contained,
No emotion forced.
There is no need for restraint -
No need for remorse.

This moment will survive,
Unspoiled by time and wear.
Even after death arrives,
You'll always be there.
Felt compelled to write something after flicking through the pictures on my phone. I have very few pictures of the important people of my life. I also realised that my favourite pictures were the worst ones.
Eva Rushton Jul 2019
With a suitcase
Of a past
Belonging to
Another of me

Strain keeps pulling
In steps already taken
Scanning the beauty ahead
Looking at the swamp behind

Earth flys with the release
As the baggage crashes
Splaying open
It’s contents no longer contained

Dust devils swirl
As torments fly upward
Upon clearing
Vision magnifies

Movement is smooth
Freedom lunges me
Freeing mind and heart
Allowing achievement

Written by E. M. Rushton
July 2019
Timothy Oct 2018
There is no comfort on the storm tossed sea,
Where haply death claims lives without a trace.
There in the froth, the gale, the waves that be,
Convulsed from clime to clime, and now embrace
What I just cannot fathom nor conceal,
The dark and boundless depths that now reveal—
The lives, long gone, a homeless corpse up churn'd
The shores that change but ne'er cease to recall
A rage that sank both sailour and the learn'd,
No knells, no coffins, graves, or ev'n headstones at all!

O, rolling ocean, ship's wreckage contained
Inside thy stomach deep and rotting be,
The slave, the free, the captain thou retained;—
Mere bones, that once were faces, they to me
Are nameless and unknown, they be not mine,
All wrapt in tangle, fathom deep in brine.
Somewhere someone adored and loved their form;
Yet now fore'er engulf'd in bub'ling foam,—
Still in the barnacles that are their dorm,
Old ship was matchless to the storm—hear thy last groan.

Yet standing on thy shores, heave to and fro,
No evidence of death that catch my eyes;
Thy waters glass, they sometime toss and go
Without impending gloom, no darken'd skies.
My love, ocean, rekindled all for thee,
Within my heart, within my soul, and see;—
Time changes not thy waves wherein I play'd
As childhood waned, adulthood now I find—
Both cheerful and the cheerless waters spray'd,
Thou givest hours of cheerfulness and death unkind.
( Dedicated to Tryst. )
© Timothy 20 January 2015
Next page