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Alyssa Underwood Jul 2016
It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search
for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security,
freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence—
out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden—
that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves.

Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise,
taking away our fear and shame and isolation.
We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there.
We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it,
and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter.
He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells
to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us.

Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep
aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods.
When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated,
for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally
make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds,
and once again we are left to feel ***** but without fig leaves to cover us.

It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out,
that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate
fullness and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is
everything we have been so desperately wanting.
It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight
of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally
begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them,
pleading with Him to come and capture us,
crying out to Him to possess us fully.
~~~
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search
for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security,
freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence—
out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden—
that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves.

Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise,
taking away our fear and shame and isolation.
We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there.
We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it,
and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter.
He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells
to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us.

Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep
aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods.
When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated,
for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally
make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds,
and once again we are left to feel ***** but without fig leaves to cover us.

It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out,
that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate fullness
and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is everything
we have been so desperately wanting.
It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight
of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally
begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them,
pleading with Him to come and capture us,
crying out to Him to possess us fully.
~~~
Lizzy Jan 2015
Her thick brow,
Is only her choice.
A stance against norms.
2. Ribbons and flowers,
All tangled in her hair.
A decorative crown,
But beauty is not defined here.
3. She had many lovers,
Of many kinds.
But promiscuity,
Does not define worth.
4. Drink more than the men.
To dance with a love,
They can never have.
5. Politics are unimportant,
Only the ideas in your mind.
Of equality and charity,
But it will leave somebody dead.
6. Be bold and smart.
Follow your own direction,
Maybe dress like a man
7. When a trolley crashes,
Leaving you wishing for death,
Draw on your bandage.
Don’t let your broken column
Break your strength.
8. Don’t fall in love with artists,
They drink too much,
Cheat too much.
And will break your heart
9. Fall in love with artists,
A musician, maybe a painter.
You’ll never be bored,
You’ll always be drunk.
10. Just don’t let them break you,
Don’t stop painting because you’re hurt.
Don’t give them the satisfaction,
Of breaking your wings.
11. You don’t need anyone,
When you have wigs to fly.
Don’t need feet,
Or anyone else.
12. You probably feel like a freak,
Like the weirdest person you’ve ever known.
But as long as you’re weird with me,
You’ll never be weird alone.
13. Make friends with the past,
With people you’ve never known.
It’ll always be a source of security,
No one can leave that’s already gone.

I look at Frida through her paint, through her words, through the story of her life she has taught me not to be afraid.
janelflorendx Mar 2017
I will love you until the day the moon will vanish into its dark vast space
Until the stars slowly untwinkle as you close your eyes during the night.

And until i see the morning sun rising reflected upon your brown eyes


I will unconditionally love you until  our universe will inevitably explode into the void

Just as how defeaning our world crashes and collides,
Is just as perfectly how i would want to loudly speak your name and yell how solemnly am deeply inlove with you
Palmer Feb 2018
I want to listen more
Be conscious and uber aware of what I make and feel as I make it
And hear it
Engage in the valuable conversations that surrounds this art and all arts
Reflect on the journey that each creator takes
What does the content mean
Where does ones awareness take there pen or brush
When it crashes through the fog of our societal cocoons
Into new growth spiralling from our cyclical existence
There I want to find
To experience often
The moment of cohesion
When the spark in our soul
Sets aflame
The genesis of artistic creativity
Jordan Rowan Aug 2015
Let's get some sunlight
Let's start a bar fight
We'll take our problems and forget we have to solve them
Let's take two tabs
Let's start a **** lab
We'll cover up insecurity with promiscuity

Let's sleep 'til Sunday
It's only Monday
I have to work at 2 but I think I have the bird flu
Let's call the drug store
Ask for a couple more
Insignificant reality crashes into banality  

Let's make a hash pipe
Out of Brite Lites
We'll quote Pulp Fiction with Ezekiel's conviction
Let's start a fight club
Where we can make love
Punch me in the ear and then I'll disappear

Let's start a new life
But after midnight
There's a whole universe waiting to be uncovered first
Let's make a difference
Let's make new friends
Let's go where the wind blows but first I have to put on clothes
Derek Leavitt Aug 2016
When she's around... time slows down... almost to the point of complete nothingness... I look at her and think, is there truly anything more gorgeous?..

When She's around, I feel safe and that anywhere could be called home. Her eyes; a curious stare... my hand twitches, longing to touch her curlicious hair.

Our gaze's meet, and I find myself drifting... closer and closer to her feet. Her lips just within a leanings reach. Her dimples nearly touching my cheek... Her sent... 'Heavenly'.

I run my hand through her hair, and I hear her gasp, a sudden rush and a cool breeze changes the whole atmosphere. Her legs grab my waist and I stare into the pupils. She leans in, our eyes drift shut but our lips finally meet and I feel the grip of her legs tighten around my waist...

I walk forward until her chest presses against mine and her back makes love with the wall. I wrench her hair and kiss down her chest, real slow.

I mumble sweet nothingness into her ear whilst I caress her bare *******... Her legs decend and wrap around mine and I hear her begin to beg. The second my tongue makes contact with the nape of her neck her hips grind tight against mine.

This is not routine, she is trembling. Brewing like a steam pipe, compressed, ready to burst. I slip my tongue into her mouth and open it as I **** the air clean from her lungs.

It is at this point her legs curls inward and rips me back, causing me to fall and back crashes against the floor and she lands right on my lap. I grab her waist as she grips onto me.

The night is young, and ready to be explored. Our quest into each other will bring us beyond the star systems to a plane uncharted and unlike any other, ventured before. The night sky will bear witness to our event and the stars will weep out of sheer awe from beauty. Life, being made in a single dance of love and our moans, and wails and cries of ecstasy and desire, passion and Love...

and when it was all over.. we held one another.. and peeped into each others soul. It was love... Love.. Love of the Titans.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Remembering the pain on that cold dark winter’s day,
being turned out at your door while snow around me lay.
Without a word of comfort just a hug and cheap goodbye,
I agonized to figure what had gone so wrong and why.

Losing all I was that day, I cried for years to come.
Why did you betray your friend, your joy, your love?
All consuming was the freedom that so quickly pulled me in,
while it ****** the breath from me as I struggled in my skin.

Looking back on the road that has brought me here today,
Remembering the magic and the crashes on life’s way.
Recalling all the love and pain, I would not turn away,
from all the joy I would have missed along love’s blinding way.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Lizzie Nov 2017
Silence... Violent... Deffening... Destructive...
Silence is, dreadful... Desolate...
Yet all at once, silence is, the rain pouring down,
ricocheting off this small towns beating heart...
Silence is, the sun, blinding... Beautiful... Bright... Just like you...
A reminder that there's light in the night...
Though it may come as a bite... Full of disasters, could I ask her?
The weight of it crashes down on me, silencing my pleas...
When can I be free?
Wrote this earlier today, it *****, I know, but that's okay.
CK Baker Nov 2018
Covenant park central
parallel, east-side west
waiting on the
print defender
(and Lichaten queen)
he appears randomly
and distorted
(with a broken smile)
shuffling down
the Smithright trail
in his Mac Tack
and cinnamon shades
(sun bags and thrift ware
stacked three high
on a rusted rat trap)

An open ended
panel van
crashes the curb
as a long-boarder
dodges the tail
and kicks up some dirt ~
the plumb tree
and sunbeam double wide
hold steady in the fish eye
as the warehouse carny
and tire-less 510
shine brilliantly
on the dull
dripping scene
Madelynn Nieves Jun 2017
My conscience is loud
yet my voice never comes,
It's disarming what dependency can do, altering your character,
until you are simply a character,
weaving falsities into strands of fools gold, until you're living in an armor
of the emperors new clothes.

I swore to myself,
that I would never again be this person, the one with my finger
on the self destruct button,
but sliding down the hill
comes much easier than climbing.

And at the bottom,
numbness awaits me,
making me fearless.

I feel the cold wash over me,
goosebumps all throughout my being,
as the waves begin to rise.  

She covers me,
salty yet sweet,
and everything makes sense.

The meaning of life in a pretty peach casing.

I am Invincible.

I am Oblivious.

She peaks and soon crashes,
repeatedly against me,
making me feel like the world could end and I wouldn't even think to care.

But what at first seemed exhilarating, wears on me to no end,
the buildup and constant let down.

She's lost her novelty,
and with that,
the numbness fades.

Sobering up for long enough to realize,
I am the definition of insanity.

Inviting you back in so often,
I no longer have defenses against you.
You snuck into my priorities without me ever noticing.
Like that song you hate so much but can't help to sing.

Will I ever get rid of your tune in my head?

Will I ever be able to say no when you call?
Daisy Marrow Nov 2017
I'll give you the sky
if you give me a minute.
Just lay down on the grass
and grow with the flowers.
Learn to love the sun
that you barricade out from your window
because one day you'll get lost in the dark,
and beg for its guidance.
Clean your soul and be in love with your life, every detail.
All I want is to see you smile.
All I want is to be with you and guide you through the winters.
Take all that you know and learn more from there.
All I want is to lay in a field
surrounded by flowers and soak in the rays
and alone we'll be until the night crashes through.
So run with me through this crazy dream of mine
that you and I are the only two left.
Every morning we'll taste the sweet dew
and every night we'll sing the sun to sleep.
EveOfWhat Oct 2018
Even millions of years after a star crashes into oblivion,
It's light will shine far away.
Flowing, spreading, glistening on moons,
Its light will travel far.
Running, unstoppable, until it touches the edge of forever.
Weary, complete, fulfilled, it leaves...

I'm a human, made of stardust, burning inside.
Perhaps I'll shine too.
Iska Oct 2018
When I was younger I used to think
that when a falling star crashes into the earth,
it shattered into stardust
and from there grows a forest.
Marigolds Fever Sep 2018
The Stream
Carries the mighty twig along
Through its winding turns
Gets stuck under a rock
But not for long
When the fisherman comes
And pushes it to the dock
There it hangs out
For awhile
Making new Friends
Near the wet branch pile
Some are thick
Some are thin
Some are cracked
And some are its twin
A sudden big splash
The kids have jumped in
Off the twig goes
Where it ends up
It does not know
Entwining with another twig
Around each lily pad
Like perfectly aligned dancing feet
That must have been meant to meet
Together they move swiftly through the water
Stuck underneath some large kelp
Its liked friend is there to help
Over the mini waterfalls they flow
Never really know which will let go
Eventually it starts to pour
And a wave crashes them to a shore
Together they are not no more
One transcends to a useful walking stick along the ridge
The other becomes part sandcastle bridge
Stopped serving their purpose
They did not
At midnight they are tossed back in
Rough waters ahead
They start to spin
Mighty twigs gave it their best shot
And then they began to slowly rot
the good things in life seem to stay;
like the color yellow, or a warm summer's day
waking up early, running barefoot in grass
feeling the morning dew brush past

hearing the twinkle of an ice cream truck
if you go, you'll catch it, with luck
eating a popsicle as the sun beats down
riding a bike through a small playground

when dusk comes, once again
we're swimming at night and playing with friends
lighting sparklers that shine brighter than stars
popping cap guns you could hear from afar

running barefoot right down the street
giving the neighborhood dog a treat
taking polaroids like the pictures will stay
but lost them then, by the next summer day

watching as fog rolls slowly ahead
the sun goes down, so time for bed
excitement and thrill, time for a sleepover
the day, for now, will never be over!

karaoke on beds at the ***** midnight
crashes of thunder, scary stories, and fright!
still, pretty soon,  we get used to it
or in the summer, it all happens quick

never sleeping, don't want it to end
even though there's the weekdays and weekend
glowing lights hang above the bed
sleepy eyes remind us dumb things said

summer, now, doesn't last forever
even if we must change the weather
we must savor it, you and me
and kiss summer hello thrillfully!
i'm so ready for summer! this is just a little peak how most of my summers go!
Lily Jan 18
My hand touches yours against my will,
And your soft touch sends fireworks through my body.
My elbow just habitually knocks into you
When we’re laughing together,
And I don’t know how to make it stop.
I’ve stared at you enough,
My eyes blocking out every other person in the room,
To know your mannerisms,
The way you glance at your watch frequently,
The way you tap your foot when you’re nervous,
The way you run your hand through your hair.
My whole insides jump when you say my name,
And every time we lock eyes I have to remind myself to breathe.
But I’m scared that my love for you is too great.
What if I’m coming on too strong?
I feel like you should be terrified of my love,
Because sometimes it crashes like tsunamis,
And sometimes it howls like a sandstorm.
It can sink ships,
And destroy dynasties.
It could destroy us.
I just want you to be aware of that so if
I do come on too strong
You know I’m just terrified of losing you.
I think this is kind of cliche, but sometimes us poets have to be cliche before we can find our voice.
Logan Robertson Oct 2017
We're out at a bar splitting a good night of cheers
Drinks and laughter flowing among peers
Double shots dance around the table
Tonight's the moment, tomorrow's a fable

We garnish the laughter with Halloween
What's your costume, how do you swing
A chorus of "I'll dress up as a cowboy"
Is met by a few rolling eyes, "I'll address their convoy"

Not to be excluded is the *** guy in back that chimes in
And competes with the rolling eyes, cowboys are mine
Laughter of reveries spills faster than the drinks
A 80's song, When Doves Cry, continues to play over the links

A women crashes the party and exhorts the group
Come on guys put your wings on, fly the coup
Halloween's around the corner, make a splash, make waves
Find your muse with a costume that stands up, and raves

Look out to the horizon, the rarefied air, and trick for treats
Find my tunnel of love with a costume that beats
After a pause, a coy smile surface on rolling eye's lip
Oh Melville come with me, come with me, and take a dip

Double shots dance around the table

Logan Robertson

10/19/17
Near four weeks later, moby **** (Melville)  left the stage with 80 views and no comments. Thank you for nothing. The writer purposely veiled this poem as not to spoon feed your intelligence with a play on words. Think again about a costume that would make a splash and evoke rolling eyes to take a dip. The last line refers to the doves, friends, figuring out the riddle, their eyes (double take/shot) taking furtive glances at each other. A planned sequel to this poem was canceled.
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