"culminated" poems
tonight there will be a storm
listen to my pages raging
with all the anger
i've culminated inside
i will no longer be satisfied with silence.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
my eyes were never ready for a fleeting sunset
that shone into them with splendour and magic
then drifted away into a far horizon
leaving me with my sombre reflection
the water looked so dark, inky and bleak
and my hands after that were drenched in black ink
i had slammed the pen so hard on this cursed journal
i thought that maybe, everything in my head would collapse with it
you were pretty but it never stopped at that
my name may have tasted like honey but you got sick of it
you got sick of me
you had a way with words that left me weak
all the strength i had culminated through the years stood no chance
like porcelain with intricate designs, fragile, timeless
now who will accompany me in the night
to plant our memories in stars on the sky?
or did you find another one to remind you of the taste of honey
the taste of love
the taste of promise
leave me now with the reality of frowns and uncertainty
leave me with the dark inky waters of a night once spent accompanied
one day i will lay your indifference to rest
but for now
let me throw it out to the horizon, to the sky, to the earth
so it can swallow it to nothingness.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 10:58 AM UTC
I read a story today.
Like any good story it was layered upon the premise of the love between two perfect strangers.
Like any good story it was about romance that blossomed... and then flourished as quick as it was fierce.
Like any good story it spun a far-reaching web of hope and longing whilst still holding on to the uncompromising nature of responsibility to one's dreams.
Like any good story, there was a spot of intimacy. The gradual build up of physical and psychological attraction that culminated in the merging of two, was nothing less than tasteful.
Like any good story there was conflict.
But it was not the cliched garnish that involved oppressive parenting styles nor glaring racial differences.
It did not rope in the overused notion of "we're so different, we're two parts of a whole".
It was... a beautiful conflict.
One that does not allow the audience to choose sides.
In fact, it encourages you to think inward and root for both parties - be them together or apart.
If anything at all, it boils down to the pursuit of each individual's happiness.
Like any good modern day story, it ended with a breath held in a gasp. You hold it there for the longest moment and you have to close that breath with a heavy sigh of loss.
It also leaves you with ample room to deliberate the "what if" factor.
Happy endings last a while but sad ones... they rip a hole in you that almost never closes...
and you cannot help but go back to read it over and over again in the hopes of finding the elusive right answer or the best alternate ending.
Like any good story it was tailored in my fit. Because I envisioned myself in it. I got consumed by it. Overwhelmed by it, enough to almost break the pipes.
And like any good story, it's worth keeping...
In heart and in mind.
So I read a story today. And I didn't want it to end.
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 6:26 AM UTC
It is a quickened erosion of the spirit
culminated in bad habits
a crisscrossing lattice
over and under like a ferret
Its too small and quick to fight
this parrot is breaching thoughts with its well versed screech
Luring the cavalry into its cancerous reach
Benighted by several regiments of blight
Enticed by visions of a name spelled in the constellations
Do not forget you are a child of the stars
The strength within you contains quasars
A single mind, your mind, has the ability to illuminate a nation.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 10:29 AM UTC
nothing pushed my creativity
more than someone trying to
take my baby daughter from me
peaceful on the outside
kind
loving
focused
dedicated
to helping
I always wanted to save the world
now it is with unmatched
and inescapable vengeance
helping everyone
especially my students
with early childhood trauma
but deep down in my world of communication
expression
a whirlwind that no one really knows
but I must add
I now have absolutely no doubt
that the passion that has been
culminated in society
that I get to experience
comes from the shared experience
of children being taken into slavery
this is the destruction of the human origin
which we need to have a nice happy ending
we all come from Africa
not from slavery
and when I am a black man
all my lifetimes that have been
tortured and killed
for being accused of being angry
violent
******
by any means necessary
genocide of us
the only choice is creativity
and although this in itself
is also a threat
and will get me killed
atleast it does not satisfy
their lust for dismembering
my freedom
into their pickle jars
of liberty
for their children to save for their children
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 11:15 AM UTC
Every moment I stood here, in sandals
meant memories to last a life long…yes,
say that is all now: valued histories.
History is all that is now, then
existence being culminated by
the sum of only experiences. My
Sandals may be worn from wear, but my feet
Have only calloused. Ready, heat?
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 12:47 PM UTC
My ***** felt a feather heavier than iron
As I’d opted for anything other than rollover
Whilst puking up that, “nicer,” guy.
The drink’s a ghost. The scold’s a mixer,
Soured on the rocks, Shaken, not stirred,
Stirred, not shaken,
And without a sliver of, “he,” who’d opt
Accommodate or acquiesce.
Call it, “transcendence,” I guess?
Born a realization that this world’s,
“DOG-EAT-DOG,” or,
“GOD-EAT-GOD,” or,
“GOD-TEA-DOG,”
And should I not comprehend
This very simple reality,
I’d be a doormat unto my own grave.
So I fail, I’m frail, and all for one tail
Prior the act that’d ever invoke,
“Leave;” even atop the eve of beggary.
Resolute? I’d opt for the longer life, perhaps,
Not that I’d wanted to live to long anyway,
But I’d made a choice,
I’d arbitrated one cardinal direction – elliptical.
I’d acted, placated, satiated, intimidated,
Decimated, defecated, wiggled my right pinky
And culminated a prayer atop altars, “godless,”
To never knock upon that door again.
And so, but one question remains,
“Did I?”
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
Under the bridge, a once again
Tranced by the rhythm of a river
Chaos culminated to calm strains
Crucified and paraded in clarity
A push and I pushed deeper to sink
Your eyes lighted with a remedy
A redemption of persisting ache
A depth tucked and hidden in a mast
Unclaimed and reared, purely untainted
An essence delivered by a spirited past
Cocoon to a parameter of perception
A scent delicately brewed in aged truce
Under a bridge in a moment called now
Blocks scented with nitrogen spurred *****
A depart from the swan hypnotic dreams
A renegade of mottos, hollows of morrows
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 4:54 AM UTC
Darkness is plotting
Slyly lurking in a lackluster room
Paralyzed by fear
A tree branching its limbs
Clinging to the light like
Lingering liars who lose
Luminous truths
That breach our boundaries beyond boarders
Electricity fires through their veins
Epidermal inferno
But they are frozen
Still... life-less
Unforgiving truths that stab
Through the hearts of its audience
A fair show
Culminated by thieves
Nobody is safe, not even you!
Run.
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 11:37 AM UTC
**There was an old lady of England,
Who sowed a chicken's eggs in her land.**
But when they failed to grow,
For it culminated to sorrow
Thus declared to leave such a barren land!
#Limerick
Kikodinho Alexandros
Jumeira, Dubai
23rd November 2016
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 1:50 PM UTC
Time upholds his wonderful stride
He was born to win and ride
Sincerity was in blood to guide
Martyrdom was the essence of pride
On the edge of eternity to guard
The eternal life was gift of God
Valiant soldier was chosen by Lord
Time in itself became time barred
Total disregard for a while
Valiant son of the soil
Marched with soldiers mile to mile
Became role model in rank and file
Sword of honor kept the sword
Carrying call of duty aboard
Opted for himself that road
Which culminated above the board
The soldier proved his worth and mettle
With action of valor in the battle
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2013 Golden Glow
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 5:06 AM UTC
last night
while you were preparing your
ammunition, i felt you
tugging at the tips of my hair.
out of all the strings in all
the universes, ours shook with
the same vibration.
last night
while you were preparing your
self for death, i was talking
to eric (with a c) from
the suicide hotline in new
york city. he told me i am
bright and successful, i wish
he had said the same to you.
this morning
while i was swimming in trazedone
dreams of new york city, a
woman, not too far from there,
felt her womb close like a
wing. the energy and matter her
body lent to an extension of
her bloodline was returned into
the universe. it has become the
brightest star, it has bloomed from
a poppy flower bud on a rocky hillside.
this morning,
while i was deep inside the caves of
my soft synaptic clefts, a
woman risked her everything
for the breath of two young children.
somehow, in the deep wood of my
slumber, i finally forgave my vice
principle. i finally forgave the vices
of my father.
this mourning
did not begin at 9:40am, that is just
when it culminated. you cannot tell me that
you don't feel it too. the rocks falling from
the sky yesterday were an omen.
the transgendered youth taking their
own lives are an omen. the carbon becoming
the atmosphere, the oil engulfing
the salted seas, the corals dissolving
in acid baths are all a shouting omen.
when the mayans calculated
the cycle's ending, they gave us
the gift of the wheel. the nature of a
circle requires revolution, the presence of an
ending requires a beginning.
how do we honor the gift of the maya?
how do we create a cycle of light?
that pressure on your chest is a
fear that you cannot do this
alone, and i'm telling you
you can't. how lucky we are
to have each other. how lucky we are
to have a new moon, the universal connection
to all sentient beings, the snakes that
slide slowly down ancient aztec temples,
the star that rises without fail in
promise of new freedom.
how luck we are for the teachers
how lucky we are for the artists
how lucky we are for the martyrs
and murderers and storytellers
and the collective unconscious!
if every single hand picks up an ember
from this wreckage, the power of our muscles
will turn them into diamonds, the sparks
upon our fingertips will turn us into healers.
imagine what seven billion healers can cure.
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 4:33 PM UTC
eons before
puberty
set in
closer to
purity
light
years away
from sin
her name
was flame,
in the local
tongue
we were
eight, and
all she asked
me to do
was knot
up the left
shoulder
threads
of her
dress
it was
a quiet
childhood
moment
yet what
I felt then
was an
inkling
of love
probably
that hours
spent together
watching Tom
& Jerry on VHS
had culminated
to this sweet
little gesture
of innocence
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 11:53 AM UTC
I closed my eyes and all I could see was you walking in front of me.
Our feet stepped to the same rhythm and every time I stumbled over stray roots popping up from the soil I winced as my tempo no longer matched your steady drum beat.
As I struggled to keep up you slowed down, reaching for my hand, leading me further down the path. I didn't know where we were headed and I didn't care. Your smile planted daisies in my lungs that made it hard to breathe, yet every time I inhaled I could taste their sweet aroma.
Your hand in mine transferred your bright energy into my arms and made me feel safe and whole for the first time.
I opened my eyes and you were still there, staring at me. Your eyes were wild, looking at the new world before you.
Millions of years of natural selection culminated in the way you used one side of your mouth to smile.
I could feel pollen multiplying in my chest, making it difficult to open my mouth without flower petals escaping.
You took them and wove them in my hair like secrets but the wind tangled the words and now I'll never know what they are whispering to me in my sleep.
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
Found on Hollywood Boulevard,
these shining stars of the silver screen,
bigger and better than us normal types.
Flint Magnum, Clint Hudson, and
of course we'd be remiss to miss,
the star, Luke "The Gent" Gable.
A modern day Rat Pack were they,
in films, on shows, even on the radio,
they were all over the place, often together.
Flint Magnum was the leading man
of Deadly Picture, the horror classic,
and countless other scream-scenes.
Clint Hudson played the simple man
the every-man in every rom-com
your mind could ever fathom.
But The Gent was the biggest of them,
leading roles in dramas and thrillers,
and comedies, and even chillers.
Oscars and Tony's and even a few Annie's,
won this shining star. Critics adored him,
and the masses wanted to be him.
It can be said with a grain of truth,
that the pack was best when together.
Whenever they met, magic was made.
Their life's epic finally culminated,
in a 4-hour glory, of action and drama,
it won every award, with praise galore.
Fiery Flint and Careful Clint wrote the yarn,
and played their role fitting, while the Gent
directed and led this star-studded affair.
Citizen Kane could hardly compare,
to the grandeur and scope of this tome,
with it, their reputations forever sealed.
Clint, Flint, and the Gent who favored
a fine hat are the finest fellows of our
and maybe any era of film or culture.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 6:54 PM UTC
I did become cynical,
And I hit many lows
Each one deeper than the last.
It all culminated to the end
And the start of the next beginning.
I let the light from my life
Be beaten out of me and I saw only darkness
Everywhere.
But I overcame and persevered,
And I suppose it's true that even
The smallest of lights beats out the dark.
I sought out anything that could
Allow me to learn more about myself
And the world around me,
To grow deeper, but never to sink
And never drag me down.
If anything, it let me fly.
I now understand why people
Jump from bridges.
It isn't to escape the world.
It's to escape themselves.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 8:27 PM UTC
Mock war of words, aroused both,
rough and tumble fight-
shifted to bed,
sweet animosity culminated in blissful silence
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 9:30 AM UTC
Painfully the heart beats the chest,
Ember of lineal segregation will come out,
And the ripping blaze of fire will engulf,
Communal harmony consummating peaceful coexistence gulf,
Executing ethnicity, caste, creed and religion smithereens.
Patriot’s spirit yields serene backdrops,
Everyone permanently scribbling down the tales,
And if we don’t improve the stories,
Coming generations will be forced to clean up our mess,
Ending up in the question “what is peace?”
Peace is simply forgiveness,
End of hate, war or violence,
Abstinence of using violence to show our emotions,
Calming silence,
Endeavor to have unity in diversity.
Portrayal of Kenya’s flag is peace,
Entailing every magic spell of her climate, history and culture,
Appraised by her quick succession of seasons,
Culminated by the gentle sun and benign rain that softens the mind,
Endorsing peace naturally.
Wishing a peaceful 2017 General Elections in Kenya.
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 1:21 AM UTC
Did you pen this in a depleted moment
Indiscriminate to your heart waning desire.
Everything I did was for you, our life was
To be a unity of majestic significance.
Over again did I think about those syllables
Greeting my mind in a confused state.
Either I was yours or no one else's,
The tears that fell, like fake snow meaningless
Hearing you understand what we had to do
Every occasion we shared culminated in this
Real declaration of love, two shots and our hearts stopped.
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 4:21 AM UTC
As the morning anticipate the other day
A cool and straightforward sensation will display
Happy faces will sing for today
Heavenly clouds will make my way
All at ease as a light breeze
Every people becomes an angel's hiss
An apparent light straight from the heaven
Culminated until my mind whispered 'amen'
The rain water lapse until the flood is done
Hands are washed up until sins are gone
All the people ascent their faith
Dancing in the wind and everything looks great
No harm done, as the earth loses some balance
Keeping souls for the reserved great chance
The wine is poured equally and fair
Nothing to lose, nothing to compare
The sun comes up with a smile
Sweet praises are expected for a little while
It's a beautiful sunrise, it's a new genesis
How good this prayer brings us peace
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 8:29 PM UTC
As the walls of Troy
came crumbling down
I wonder where it was
that you ran
I keep a small faith
that something stole you
instead
wrenched you onto its ship
bedded you
I have words
which taste like venom
or a sinner’s eulogy
the way
that I can put them together
bringing rhapsodists to their knees
and you
have a self-conviction:
your words
are better than mine
my words
are merely the stink
which rises
from the suburban ******* tip
you forget that we speak
the same language
the same words
over and
over again
I wake up in May
there is dew on the sill of the window
culminated
from my ****** foulness
you climbed through it
said goodbye
with a dry mouth
and a steady voice
*every evening
is an odyssey for you*
I was the antagonist
I wanted to flood your ship
I wanted to drown your men
you are the wise man
the one
with the ideas
the one
who in the end
is meant to save us all
a different you – I know it’s you
you feel the same
same
strength in your knees
and same
self-conviction
returned to me
and to this archaic city
at the start of May
your words are different
and now
you have a kiss
like the world is ending
and I am your final prayer
we are always searching
for a way to disappear
indefinitely
inside each other
between the walls
of a timber stead
we have cycled
back to the beginning
begin again.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 1:29 AM UTC
crazy thing- that room is
still a florida room in february,
where we killed the last
spirit in the world.
brighter than a piece of pvc
during zombie winter.
everything that happened when
I was nine years
old culminated in severed
limbs, conspiracy theories.
the rosacea cleared up like
the doctor said it would.
imagine this- a herd of bison
on the sledding hill.
hard to climb,
even harder coaxing the angel down
and into having some hot fun:
hot like cauterized.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC
Ironically situated in the Ministry of Love, these dark, barren walls have rewritten the hope in my heart into verses of wishful demise. This heart is an icebox that has become numb to any whisper of faith. These tear ducts have forgotten the sense of sadness. I welcome the warmth of shackles pinching the skin of my feeble arms. The weeks of misery have culminated into this unspeakable agony. Welcome to Room 101.
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
Full bodied. A crimson blend.
Sugar and milk. Woah, transcends.
The sweetness over your toasty brew.
Years taken away. So was murky density.
Just sugar infused. Tis was culminated destiny.
Has elimination brought enhancement?
"Black. Just black"
Am I for real?
I embrace you for you. Smell. Taste. Feel.
Less for more. Will I soon drink an empty cup?
I'm appreciating nothing as everything anyway.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 12:28 PM UTC
There was a time I felt infinite.
Maybe it was the summer sun,
the laughter, or the innocence.
It could have been the quasi starry nights shared with the ocean.
Those times were momentary sips of grace.
Their beauty culminated into you.
You wouldn't know this,
but I never took the chance to tell you.
Time stood still,
You and I were infinite.
As I stand here under another quasi starry evening,
I no longer feel infinite.
But I can feel you linger,
In my mind, body, and soul.
Those stand still frames of infinity cannot be retraced,
But if that cannot be again my reality,
What would it take to get another sip of momentary grace?
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 12:22 PM UTC