"dazing" poems
On a green leaf
For frogs
Illuminated by the surface under
There she sits on
A part
A piece I looked as a picture
Dazing wondrously and scouring with pairs
My sandals my feet my hands
All my fingers and nails
My ears
My toes of ten
and legs
Knees and my shoulders
The missing piece
or so i thought under
The afterthought
Full of doubters
For the plants grew all tall
None could be any taller
Dazzling danglers
A field under the stars.
Girly willed as am I
Which could not seem possible
Acceptance aches
Belief breaks
Even the words I speak, write or sing,
(Shall I
Hear it...)
over there it only echos
against the busy chatter and travels back home
Clogs ********
Reminding me that a life can be extinguished with mere
disbelief.
Disbelief and ignorance another pair...
Girly willed as I am
Nodding behind books
Fiction, fiction, fiction
They neigh
So here I go...
Thankful prayer as it did happen to us..
And all of it did
That it was I who did it.
Fuels of her pair
by flying passion and wild innocence
Now...
A human being
Limitless like the others
Why don't they not see? The rest, the stops,
The same scene, there is exactly the same scene...of falls.
If they just went out and did it, for a stretch and a walk,
Just grow out of leaves, be the branches printed of feathery crease
Because I am girly willed
Golden meadows lost to become treasure.
Fearless of rags she is as I am,
Laying afloat of the clouds, linen skies, seas and drifting through the weightless sand
Fearless forever.
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC
me, you and Hennessy.
me, you this Hennessy.
three different people, one night...
this one night...
I swear this is about to turn into a piece about how we three came together with these trees, lit..
you, me ..this Hennessy talking to me baby and I've been thinking about you.
right now I'm about to let this henny talk , see I've been watching you tonight.. this night, stargazing ....you me, falling for the moon..the stars.. baby this is where we are, me in between your legs, thighs rubbing on my neck , warmth on my ears.. This is me, you and where we're meant to be...together us three..
me you this Hennessy lets get acquainted, the henny speaks to me and I to you, you could call henny the wing because once Richard got that whiff he's never been able to say no to nights with you. Richard got a whiff, his fix, the aroma.. my god, blaspheme i apologise , speaking in tongue, my tongue in your ear, mouth, neck, ******* naval back to your ******* Richard lost track of time he has got to dip but still he stands at attention...minutes gone by forgetting the whiff he once caught, slowly going down, tying his shoes looking up to you on one knee, that whiff, your ***** he has to dip but watching you drip ? the henny, the devil on his shoulder whispered to him " devour her, eat at her soul, speak in tongues , spell her name with your tongue, make her see stars because under the stars, that's where it all began.. us stargazing , stars gazing , you dazing... daisies. day in day out you , me and this Hennessy ...pure bliss.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
john cena is
amazing
his stare is
dazing
i type this while im
blazing
but no body can hear my scream
because its just all a dream
dream dream dream
dream team deam
it unnecessary to wear clothes
****
i forbote the pode
which blocks my hole
from being penetrated
sad
jew jew jew
holocaust holocaust holocaust
dead jew dead jew dead jew
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
I am
Drifting
Dazing deeply
Take me high in the sky
Firey, disk ablaze
As we hover towards the deep black sea in the sky
Light up the abyss, reflecting through eyes
Hypnotising through harmonic tones
Oh slowly breaking the atmosphere
As we go
Craft
O
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 2:23 AM UTC
I'm masterfully crafted
and tactfully wrath-fed.
I’m attractive in bed,
but not in your head.
I've tragically bled
and I've practically been dead.
My brain has painfully exploded;
I've basically imploded
a million times again,
a billion times in pain,
it has made me insane
and has made me less vain.
I've paid to be the same,
but I'm so full of shame
that I can't live again.
I've been trying to train
to figure out this brain
to not feel so ashamed
so I can live again
so I can love again
so I can feel again
anything but this pain,
so I can treat a man
as best as I can.
Caught between amazing and crazy,
could seem dazing and hazy;
could have been brazen, but I'm lazy.
I'm not phased, it's just me,
not all that I can be;
I'm just too unhappy
with my lack of identity.
I'm stacking up pity
for the ****** up activities;
all the ******* tragedies
that have happened to me,
that darkened me,
and hardened me.
It's not your ******* fault
so why do you get an assault
every time I get salt
in a wound, I attack;
afraid to go back,
I tend to lose track
of when my words turn black
and there's no going back;
if I let my voice leak
and accidentally speak
while upset and weak;
under pressure, I freak.
*What the **** does that mean?*
Am I not who I seemed?
Am I no longer a dream?
Sorry I break at the seams
because I'm sadly an empathic
and I know it’s pathetic,
it doesn’t fit the aesthetic;
I guess it’s genetic,
but madness is poetic.
My chaos is magnetic
yet I’m not apologetic
because I’ve done my time
just read this rhyme
and you will find
this deranged mind
is a product of the grind
of falling behind,
because I was pushed down
instead of helped up
now I’m trying to come around.
fighting against my genes
to accomplish my dreams
and stop the screams
that are behind the scenes
that flow and stream
glisten and gleam
as if soaked in blood.
They come in floods
and do not scud
they’re thick like mud
and hold me hostage
and are essentially caustic.
I know I’ll find my way
through the pain one day
then I’ll be able to say
that I can stay
instead of running away
and do I ever pray
that later on you may
forgive my crazy play
and I will continue to pay
for the mistakes I’ve made
that will forever weigh
on my conscious, it’ll lay
like a cloud, dark grey.
God help me, some way.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
In one dreadful winter night
I awoke and found the Truth
The self in me died
And the duality melt
To synchronize
To become
The I.
Now I am the Absolute
The really Real
Earlier...
I was a 'being'
A myopic over-bent
A creature of false crisis
Of Hamletian dilemmas
Of Ramusian dualism
Caught up in the concentric circles
I was one....
Spirited into myriad forms
Of love and lust,
Of desire and appetite.
A pilgrim sojourning into the endless night
Purblind by the dazing mirages.
I lost my way
In the eternity of illusion
Materiality held me
Time bound me
At the dead-end of my experience
In the flash-back of my awareness
I delved into the I
And found myself in the Edenic Garden
Rejoicing in the celestial music.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
People dazing off in despair
You can feel tiredness in the air
You just want to go back to bed
So you put down your head
You just want to get some good sleep
Lying there in a disheveled heap.
Then it comes to the test
You don't know what's on it
But you'll do your best
You stayed up late last night
Trying to do all your homework right
Now you're just sitting in first hour
Wishing that you were in the shower.
You want to sleep but you want an A
Your sleepy self will have to conquer the day.
This whole process isn't a blast,
But these last few years of Hugh School are your last.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
I can't look at glossy things
The Sun is the purest star
Triste
Twisted
The Sun is blazing
Dazing and Gazing upon the lack of man
Oh, how I love the lack of man
I am a kaleidoscope, ever-changing
My mood goes from blue to red, blue to red
I flicker constantly among the only constant
Triste
Dazing and Fazing upon the lack of man,
Oh, how I miss the abundance of man
Music pours across the room,
Vibrating off the walls
I have a caged body, I long for something great, to make my life
a poetry book across wild and mild pages
Will this ever be?
When my kaleidoscope changes and flickers with each drop of rain
The black dog running after me,
I am half happiness, half a slope
Triste
Don't let it break your heart/Let it break your heart.
Giving up is the hardest part.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 11:07 PM UTC
These old memories that stick like glue
Bonded like some impossible atoms
Are flowing in some unstoppable rain
That never leaves but tends to stain.
These old songs I hear again
The ones I skipped on 'shuffle'
Are playing and I hear it now
The lyrics haven't changed the style.
These pictures that I throw away
Old pictures that bare your face
Are ones I cannot bare to see
In these pictures I don't see me.
These old shirts I've come to hate
Shirts that held one special date
Are rotting in the trash bag now
Your memory just makes me smile.
These old memories- I remember them
I realize now I'm free at last
I don't have to just live them anymore
These memories- well- they make me bored.
This wasn't a love song, no, not today
I'm better off without you, babe,
'Bestfriend? Sister!' Oh, such a lie
I hope one day you will realize.
You'll see me soon, out there, famous
And you'll be stuck in the clouds, dazing
Remember that when you miss me, dear,
Those memories are all that'll be here.
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
Standing in
The grocery store
Dazing through
Colored produce
Her hands
Tangled
In her hair
Looking past
The people
Passing
Your ring
On her finger
A little lose
Wires
Of her hair
Clutching
Its turquoise
Edges
Looking
Like she
Is looking
For you
Like She never
Got the phone call
Like an answer
Never came
Like you only hid
In the tall grass
With a small
And laughing
Smile
Like if I shook
Her
I would be
The first
To tell her
Where are her words
I wonder
Falling
From her lips
From her
Mangled mind
Scattered and
Silently pleading
For rearrangement
For a callback
To say
It was all
A miscommunication
They didn’t need
Her daughter
For the role
To hear
It was just
A mistake
The store
Could make
A refund
Because this
Isn’t
What she bought
Standing there
I stare
At her
Staring
Almost blankly
Almost apathetic
Almost just barely
Uneasy
Contemplating:
If she pressed
Hard enough
Into her temples
Wrapping
Her fingers
Deep into
Her hair
If she
Could get it
To become
So quiet
No one around
Remained
Maybe
Time
Could pause
A moment
To breathe
A deep
Breath
Opening a door
For understanding
Overcome
With relief
Maybe then
She could
Press harder
Releasing
The reel
Of time
Letting it
Roll backward
I almost
Don’t want
To interrupt
Though I know
Her mind
Is not quiet
I place
My hand
On her
Shoulder
Softly
As if
To wake
A sleeping
Baby
I almost
Expect her
To turn
To me
Not knowing
Who I am
To tilt
Her head
Back
Her mouth
Falling open
And her face
To become
Wrought and
Wet
With distress
It doesn’t
She looks
At me
As if removed
From some place
Far from where
We stand
She says
She thought
She saw me
Walk in
I see
Your eyes
In her eyes
She sees
Your memories
In mine
We exchange
Words
Both
Looking
For you
I realize
She thought
She almost
Found you
Until turning
To see only
My face
The hurt
It carries
To her
Placing it
Back
Into the
Front seat
Of her
Memory
Though she
Had been
Far
From forgetting
Standing
Like two
Lovers left
By the same
Lady
An awkward
Almost drunken
Daze
Her heart
More broken
Than mine
It didn’t matter
How much
Either
Of us
Loved
Our lover
Left us
It grows
Silent
I tell her,
I need to go and return my mushrooms
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC
I am yours, but only in moments
Intense and startling like flash bulbs
Blinding and dazing
Leaving the dark blacker than before
Like laughing at carnivals
Never entirely wholesome
Over-saturated like cotton *****
So sweet it sickens in delight
Onslaught. ****** Overmuch
It is the opposite of life
Drab and drooling
Enter the delirium
Which you crave. It is ****
Unadorned, unlike dreams
Which detour you from love
In its absolute form. Click.
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 7:32 PM UTC
Can't break the pretense
it's what keeps me straying
Can't really help but keep it
to spill will fill nothing but hatred
holding the act just a little bit
just maybe someone may see it
not from you but maybe
just a little and maybe you...
laughing and squealing our heart out
I almost asked it, almost say it
what was it, where did it began?
always dazing, that was me fallin'
what are "we" really?
maybe there ain't we
just me and you
nothing more than two.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
desperate to diverge
from this desolate domain.
dazing,
dreaming of my damsel
in dainty dress.
dozing,
dreading the days
of imminent duress.
tomorrow we depart.
tomorrow I deteriorate.
the drugs,
the drinks;
debauchery turns to
doubting & deriding these desires.
death;
the only deliverance
from my displeasure.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
my pencil taps like a metronome against the wood that is my desk
each second being counted by my mind longing for the sound of the blaring bell
to indicate it's time to move on, I play the waiting game all day
sitting alone in the corner of the room, every couple minutes dazing out the window into the scenery
all the kids in the classroom mindlessly talking away, my ears focusing in and out of conversations
not because I want to hear but instead because I'm forced, their mouths blaring like sirens off a firetruck
I sit here, thoughts eating me away like always waiting for the day to come to an end,
waiting for the time I get to myself to lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling for seemingly no reason at all
I feel more lonely than ever, the feeling that no body cares or has any genuine interest in me anymore,
the feeling that my friends hate me and even if they say they don't I won't believe them
the feeling that I just want to lay here and wait for the day to come where I go to sleep and don't wake up
but I want to live, I want to see the next day and hope that something happens, something of a miracle
maybe everything will come together one day, and that's what I'm hoping for
but until then, here in my bed I will lay pondering of what good things may come
I just hope they come soon
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
Outside,
It’s another crisp,
September day.
Afraid to trust you say,
So both our steps
Are cautious, guided.
Still, it’s in the little gestures,
The intimate silences,
That I can see
(We could be care-free).
Remember when we
Cupped our ears to
That crowned shell?
We heard different things.
You heard the ocean breeze,
I heard the sea.
And I guess that I’m caught
Between the physical trappings
Of your moon, and its
Gravitational pull.
So I swim:
Under your sleeves,
Inside your jeans.
In and out, with the tide,
We continue to sway.
Dazing away this lazy
Sunday afternoon
Between the sheets.
Gently, I pull my left arm,
Which is wrapped
Around the elegant,
Dark curls of your hair,
And move you closer -
Hoping to ensure
More secure Z’s.
With your sleeping head
Upon my chest, and the steady
Rise and fall of your breath,
Your sleeping beauty
Radiates trust, and volumes
Of a colorful world, eclipsed
By the shadows surrounding
Your waking words.
“Can you move over a little, please?”
You didn’t seem to notice my adjustment,
And something about this minor detail
Shakes my mind from its lethargic ease.
After a minute or two, you’re back to sleep.
And I begin to imagine -
What thoughts are drifting around in
The gray areas of your resting head?
Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 1:47 AM UTC
theres always
Tomorrow
procrastinating
day a wastin'
contemplating
incubating
fat *** waiting
tee vee baiting
big mouth craving
fuel for raving
dazing
Blazing....
Mar 23, 2012
Mar 23, 2012 at 9:47 PM UTC
The door, half-open, the sound
Of piano keys one by one
Accelerating, rushing,
Then, softly and gently
Fingertips only
On your neck
And my hair;
The doormat, greasy,
White stains on black,
White stains on white,
White saints above,
And below — white Snow.
Hands jump
From one place to another,
Passionate, yet thoughtful,
Albeit slightly nervous;
A black bough
With a little cloud atop,
Red on white,
White on black
And white on white again.
A lucid view
Through an opaque surface,
Chills mixed with warmth
Within and around;
Muted soft sound
Goes on for a while,
Numbs the senses,
Then, suddenly, a couple
Of accurate and precise
Touches make such
Clear and dazing notes,
That you just sit there
Overwhelmed.
The drum, slow and steady
And swingy and lazy,
As the body trembles,
Bends slightly, freezes
And goes crazy;
Translucent wings
Flutter over white
And black and gold,
The bird serenades
In the dim, shivering light.
He puts
his hands
Around her body
And a calming, warm,
Quiet sound
Of a pulsating heart
Blurs and blends
All the colours:
White on gold,
Gold on black,
Black on white,
White on hazel
And so on
And so forth;
An upright bent
Of the bent upright;
Hold on,
Forever.
The end.
May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 9:31 AM UTC
I wish to know the secrets and desires of what pleases the opposite *** I wish I understood what is it to please a man.
A small piece of sacrifice I give, to fall victim of the phallocentric gaze. What is it to please a man? Is it a dazing smile with crystal white teeth or the tiny waist and nice hips?
A woman with lips so effortlessly pink and pumped? Now I find myself looking at the mirror, holding and breathing in, trying to figure out why I haven’t got that figure 8.
Again, falling victim of the phallocentric gaze.
But a gaze never lasts, it’s a simple glance.
But it’s a thrill, a deception I wear like skin
I talk to myself, I talk to mirrors, I ask mirror, mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all?
Because mirror I am by far not the fairest,
my beauty still sleeps in the mist of the unknown.
However, I am not the conventional woman and what man desires only man knows.
The covert obscurity is too blinding for my eyes, I cannot know.
I’m a lost soul and to find him, I have to find myself.
For I am just a rotten beauty trying find hope.
A crooked smile type beauty, skin filled with scars, got me still searching for my original pigment
Human pleasures, worldly pleasures, what is to please a man?
A poem with couple of beautiful rhymes or a conversation about politics and how society stole our dreams and visions.
An obedient woman, would that please a man?
Perhaps a hyper-sexual woman, a voulez vous coucher avec moi but not ce soir my darling, I got my **** to get together.
For half these brothers are not worth the sin.
Half of these brothers aren't willing to fall into the hell of heartache for a woman. For half of these brothers can only offer me a quick message saying, “come see me”, and as an obedient ***** for me to follow. Laying with him to see how good the nature of man feels. For our skin to touch and our bodies mesh, bring our warmth to feel electric.
I need saving from myself and my desires shouldn’t be to please a man, but to please me. My heart shouldn’t skip a beat because my beauty or character was judged by a man, but my heart circulation continues due to the excellence that was given to me. So falling victim of the phallocentric gaze is no longer my issue but being something greater is my goal. So what is to please a man, I shall never know. But what is to please me?
- Cheyanne Ntangu
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 4:14 PM UTC
'I'm leaving the country.'
You muttered in spur,
Leaving me in stun.
Splashing cold water,
With a cold shoulder.
'Goodbye.'
Your gaze was freezing,
Never ending snow.
Dazing out of space,
Was where you left me.
'......'
Silence overtook,
No anger nor feels.
Never did I chase,
Over impossible.
'......'
Describing in words,
Was never enough.
Hollowness in depth,
Oblivion was near.
'......'
Decades was what took,
Strucking and ruining.
Squeezing me inside,
Scrunching me outside.
***Motions in slow,
the tears came rolling down.***
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
I am a lover of all things dark and brooding
the somber ambiance, for me, is quite soothing
don't get me wrong, it's not all black and white;
my opinions and clothes alike.
I've actually come to like mustard yellow
And would totally rock a look that's pastel and mellow.
But this section of the spectrum
That will never have my affection
Is the color orange;
I cant even rhyme it with anything.
Red and yellow looked daunting at first;
Each color, the embodiment of an ouburst.
Wearing these colors that are so luminscent
To appear as though my soul is effervescent,
To appear as though i am an image of thrill;
Faking it 'til I make it, if you will.
Contrastingly, its combination's thrill and effervescence
Is rather shrill and of terrible essence
There's not much that I can compare it to
Other than your tangerine-scented shampoo
And falling leaves in autumn:
Like how I fall when you hum.
Seemingly soft sincerities
Have become dazing disparities.
What was once easy on my eyes
Now is a hue that I despise.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 3:54 AM UTC
concrete emotion
part water, part sand,
stiff and retrodden
imprinted by hand
unbroken dazing
obsessive addiction
weathered disfigurement
stolen ambition
frozen with purpose
externally veined
denied all surrender
exhausted terrain
captured in burden
expressionless pain
mindless estrangement
decisively plain
distantly suffering
obsessive beliefs
helpless remorse
escaping relief
painful receding
numbless appeasement
gone now, the bleeding
here, quiet, the easement
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC
gentle, slow, soft breathing
tugging at my focus lines
dazing & hypnotizing wide eyes
reaching far into my mind
laughing- what a paradox
imagination splinters into understanding
my conscious and subconscious matter are two
i merely wish to realign my chemicals;
i'd rather work as one.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 2:30 PM UTC
I’ll carve your face on the Moon,
while I climb a ladder of stars.
Past the satellites with the blinking lights
to meet you for a picnic on Mars.
Tread the crystalline ice,
play in the cold till we’re chilled,
then dance across the Asteroid Belt seeking cheap thrills.
We reminisced our vacation where we soaked up the rays
lazing and dazing, last week on Mercury.
A day-trip to Jupiter reminds me what I’d do for her;
shelter her from every storm.
And in turn, as we’re on Saturn,
her love outshines the planets iridescent form.
You’ll laugh at my attempts
to compare your eyes with the diamonds of Uranus.
Then, I’ll playfully splash you
While we skinny dip on Neptune
We lay to rest on Pluto and sleep for a hundred and fifty-three hours or so.
Then, when the day breaks I’ll watch your face as the sun and your smile creeps awake.
We make it back to Earth by noon.
We say we'll see each other soon.
But we both know that there’s no place, other than in space
Where we can make ‘us’ work.
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
My creeping life started a new
Yet something was plainly missing
Like a penetrating cut with no sharp pain
Yet I felt a horned pain
A pain I could not control
Tiny somber soldiers surrounding my tender heart
Swords drawn to an unpleasant point
One intense robust beat
I am struck with blazing burn
I thought of no sheer cure
For this dense lifeless plague
Is munching on my concealed emotions
But then I met her
And she brought her rich golden army
I felt saved
Her tiny vivid soldiers of dazing beauty
Broke through my debilitated defense
Strengthening my forceful offense
Bringing to this once stone face
An enduring bright smile
The skies rained supple kindness
The grounds shot up to feel
Making my sheltered heart
Fight back with pure emotion
All it took was this nice pleasant girl
Combining her mind with mine
Linking two hearts to help heal each other
Together we made one truthful army
Toned by friendship and much more
I found what I was missing
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 5:36 AM UTC