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eva Oct 2016
The world is a massive and untouchable beast, its rolling hills and sharp jutting mountains expand ever tauntingly against the vision of our eyes. Knowing full well we cannot truly explore the vastness and strange diversity of this blue pearl. So when compared to the unfathomably Godlike terrain of the universe we all stare in awe wondering what beauty and destructive natures it holds. Comparable our own gem twinkles in the sky ever fleeting next to millions upon millions of dancing stones and raging suns, even our own Sol is dwarfed, even made insect like to that of greater gasses throwing tendrils of blood red flames in all directions. We are but a speck, a stranger curiosity to the universe than the universe is as strange a curiosity to us. And beyond all this, all these dancing stones and despite our size our pirouettes and twirling lines of silk send the vast nothingness into a daze. For the universe is great and unfathomable and impossible we too are impossible. For we carry…

And that in itself is special enough to warrant wonder and amazement, but just like the ever expanding size of the universe the earth digs even deeper to the unthinkable. Seven billion men and women walk on these paths of man made concrete and Earth’s dazzling dirt and harsh ruddy mud and sand, all spread across the four corners of our home. We have made beautiful concepts such as honour, curiosity, family and love, we have raised buildings and amazing structures to honour these concepts and their brilliance. We harnessed the beauty of earth and shaped it into something even the universe cannot hope to recreate without our help.

I still can’t understand something. I can grasp what many cannot - which I should think of as a illuminative and enriching gift - but i still cannot understand one thing; a strange being born from the universe somehow more amazing and diverse than our mother Earth.

And that's you. You are something that I absolutely cannot grasp, you in my eyes overshadow the infinite universe, and I am mad because I cannot for the life of me figure it out. Maybe it's because of your personality; your swings from happy to sad and everything in between, not unlike the diversity of earth, your beauty mimicking the glistening diamond seas, meadow fields and sunlit jungles that blaze with heat. The way you speak is like chirping birds and the wind rolling against fluttering bronze whistles. When you walk into a room it seems in a couth way everything seems to revolve around you, as if - and pardon my pun you were the Sol of the room and only i could see it. Maybe it's because just like Earth you have the potential to carry life and create something that just like Earth can never be replicated, your individuality and that of your possible child sends me into a crazed wonder of whether that's even fair to other women. Maybe it's because despite all the dancers in the world when you dance to me you are the most elegant even if it's not objectively true. But maybe it’s because you just seem too impossible, too great to be true. The physical embodiment of all the qualities that make Earth - Earth.

But maybe it's not even that. I think after assessing it I may know why I can’t understand the most amazing thing that floats around you taunting my vision and heart.

It’s that in defiance of the fact that you are an ungraspable demigod I still managed to steal you from seven billion people. From the earth, even from the universe itself. Against the wishes of millions it is I - a lowly man - that claimed your heart. I think it dazzles me so that I could grasp you from when I thought of you as ungraspable, I think it dazzles me how a being as small as you can still stand fast against floating entities of amazement like the Earth. I think it dazzles me how you laugh and sing, how you’ve mastered your own voice and the four stringed instrument that in my opinion should be named string full sound pan, but instead is dubbed ukulele. I think it dazzles me anytime you say you love me and just accept that my manhood can sometimes be too fragile to say it back. I think it dazzles me how you laugh at all my jokes - even the ones that in all respect don't even deserve a reaction. I think it dazzles me how you always listen and always remember when compared to me i'm always distracted and have the memory of an elegant goldfish. I think it dazzles me that in this world that is so cold and so unforgiving in which I sometimes find hard to grasp and instead turn apathetic too you still manage to dazzle me.

You dazzle me and it's the most annoying and frustrating thing in the world. You confuse me and make me question absolutely everything, there is no peace when you're around. You always have me on my feet and you always challenge me with your love. So please…

Never stop dazzling me.
My boyfriend wrote this for me. He doesn't have an account but I desperately wanted to share it. I am so helplessly in love.
a miracle child
born to a mortal mother
the creator pretends
to be the created

stealing butter,
breaking pots,
teasing girls,
Gokulam’s naughtiest child

and then one day
the friends complain
“Mother Yashoda, your little one
is eating mud from the Yamuna banks”

worried she rushes
to her darling boy
her anxiety disguised as anger
he smiles - the sly little blue-eyed boy

in his musical voice he cries-
“I did not eat mud, sweet mother, the boys lie!
come look within
and see with your own eyes!”

poor Mother Yashoda
not knowing she stared
into that little mouth
and lost herself in what was there

he lifted swiftly the
veil of maaya
the truth shone forth
with a blinding light!

                                                  * त्वमेव माता च पिता त्वमेव ।
                                                   त्वमेव बन्धुश्च सखा त्वमेव ।
                                                   त्वमेव विद्या द्रविणम् त्वमेव ।
                                                   त्वमेव सर्वम् मम देव देव ॥

she saw herself
and her dear little boy
the whole of Gokulam
within his jaws lay!

and the whole earth
and the universe
galaxies and multiple worlds
was her little boy cursed?

her fear mounted as she saw
the entire cosmos
the boundaries blurred
time - a non-entity

the past, present and future
only a tiny river
she saw the vast expanse
of his creation

he made these worlds
held them like puppets on a string
and then morphing
he became death!

and unable to take more
she swooned
when the Creator, the Preserver and the Destroyer
merged to become-her adored little one!

You are my mother, and my father
                                                     You are my relative and my friend
                                                     You are knowledge, You are prosperity
                                                     You are my everything, My God of Gods*

and then he looked at her
with an infinite compassion
he’d shown her
what she needed to see

now it was time
for her to forget, to become
his doting mother again
he kisses her with innocent love and toothy grin

once more
maaya takes hold
the illusion more beautiful
more irresistible to behold!

- Vijayalakshmi Harish

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
This poem describes an incident from Lord Krishna's life when he was a child. His friends complain to his mother Yashoda, that he has been eating mud. When she looks into his mouth he reveals his divinity for a short while, before becoming her baby again.
English Jam Apr 2018
Each time a dark thought to sin gleefully entered me
Every one of those days blurred into one another that were tinged with blue
All those nights insomnia took hold, and I wished to end my life
Well, I'm glad I didn't

I'm glad because I was waiting for the day
The day the sun bursts into a kaleidoscope of light
The day the sky quickly parts itself, making a path
The day the clouds willingly sacrifice themselves to hold a gleaming white horse
And on the horse's back, sits The King
Holding a sword that shines magnificently
Wearing a crown that dazzles for all to see
I can't wait to see Jesus
Still I wait for that day
Still I wait
Kingafroninjaa Feb 2012
In his barren room of eternal darkness, you will find her suspended alone in space.
The silhouette that continues to haunt her soul have returned to reveal its obscure face.
Its eyes dazzles with the pure optimism for the uncertainty of what secrets the future has in store,
But her dimly brown stained eyes are plagued by the sadistic knocks of death at her door.

The seemingly gullible and naive entity clings onto an orb that has an effervescent shine,
This radiant glow, beckons for my soul to remember, to remember that it was once mine.
What is the reason for my once pure light to turn into the blacken, tainted soul that lies within me?
Is it waiting for the completion of my quest to find my hidden euphoria to be finally be set free?

Its voice sings to my inner demons, tugging at my existence like a synchronized team.
But the painful reality of life has taught me that happiness is nothing but a just forgotten dream.
Trying out rhyme scheme. o.O
The energy emanating from your beauty dazzles
My love dangle and dance with but real pleasure
In complete darkness just burn so many candles
I feel overjoyed just with this wonderful treasure

When I sneak through your *****'s knot to see
Spring comes in bloom to show me many flowers
You may not find what the state of pleasure be
Beauty suddenly spreads just with all love showers

Light is all around and I am in the center of light
I feel your whispers in my ear to listen, celebrate
I do not want to see anything when you are in sight
I feel myself fortunate my fortune sprout from fate

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
"Hark! Lakshman! Hark, again that cry!
                 It is, — it is my husband's voice!
             Oh hasten, to his succour fly,
                 No more hast thou, dear friend, a choice.
             He calls on thee, perhaps his foes
                 Environ him on all sides round,
            That wail, — it means death's final throes!
                 Why standest thou, as magic-bound?

             "Is this a time for thought, — oh gird
               Thy bright sword on, and take thy bow!
           He heeds not, hears not any word,
               Evil hangs over us, I know!
           Swift in decision, prompt in deed,
               Brave unto rashness, can this be,
           The man to whom all looked at need?
               Is it my brother that I see!

           "Oh no, and I must run alone,
               For further here I cannot stay;
           Art thou transformed to blind dumb stone!
               Wherefore this impious, strange delay!
           That cry, — that cry, — it seems to ring
               Still in my ears, — I cannot bear
           Suspense; if help we fail to bring
               His death at least we both can share"

          "Oh calm thyself, Videhan Queen,
               No cause is there for any fear,
           Hast thou his prowess never seen?
               Wipe off for shame that dastard tear!
           What being of demonian birth
               Could ever brave his mighty arm?
           Is there a creature on earth
               That dares to work our hero harm?

           "The lion and the grisly bear
               Cower when they see his royal look,
           Sun-staring eagles of the air
               His glance of anger cannot brook,
           Pythons and cobras at his tread
               To their most secret coverts glide,
           Bowed to the dust each serpent head
               ***** before in hooded pride.

           "Rakshasas, Danavs, demons, ghosts,
               Acknowledge in their hearts his might,
           And slink to their remotest coasts,
               In terror at his very sight.
           Evil to him! Oh fear it not,
               Whatever foes against him rise!
           Banish for aye the foolish thought,
               And be thyself, — bold, great, and wise.

           "He call for help! Canst thou believe
               He like a child would shriek for aid
           Or pray for respite or reprieve —
               Not of such metal is he made!
           Delusive was that piercing cry, —
               Some trick of magic by the foe;
           He has a work, — he cannot die,
               Beseech me not from hence to go.

           For here beside thee, as a guard
               'Twas he commanded me to stay,
           And dangers with my life to ward
               If they should come across thy way.
           Send me not hence, for in this wood
               Bands scattered of the giants lurk,
           Who on their wrongs and vengeance brood,
               And wait the hour their will to work."

           "Oh shame! and canst thou make my weal
               A plea for lingering! Now I know
           What thou art, Lakshman! And I feel
               Far better were an open foe.
           Art thou a coward? I have seen
               Thy bearing in the battle-fray
           Where flew the death-fraught arrows keen,
               Else had I judged thee so today.

           "But then thy leader stood beside!
               Dazzles the cloud when shines the sun,
           Reft of his radiance, see it glide
               A shapeless mass of vapours dun;
           So of thy courage, — or if not,
               The matter is far darker dyed,
           What makes thee loth to leave this spot?
               Is there a motive thou wouldst hide?

           "He perishes — well, let him die!
               His wife henceforth shall be mine own!
           Can that thought deep imbedded lie
               Within thy heart's most secret zone!
           Search well and see! one brother takes
               His kingdom, — one would take his wife!
           A fair partition! — But it makes
               Me shudder, and abhor my life.

           "Art thou in secret league with those
               Who from his hope the kingdom rent?
           A spy from his ignoble foes
               To track him in his banishment?
           And wouldst thou at his death rejoice?
               I know thou wouldst, or sure ere now
           When first thou heardst that well known voice
               Thou shouldst have run to aid, I trow.

           "Learn this, — whatever comes may come,
               But I shall not survive my Love,
           Of all my thoughts here is the sum!
            Witness it gods in heaven above.
         If fire can burn, or water drown,
             I follow him: — choose what thou wilt
         Truth with its everlasting crown,
             Or falsehood, treachery, and guilt.

         "Remain here with a vain pretence
             Of shielding me from wrong and shame,
         Or go and die in his defence
             And leave behind a noble name.
         Choose what thou wilt, — I urge no more,
             My pathway lies before me clear,
         I did not know thy mind before,
             I know thee now, — and have no fear."

         She said and proudly from him turned, —
             Was this the gentle Sita? No.
         Flames from her eyes shot forth and burned,
             The tears therein had ceased to flow.
         "Hear me, O Queen, ere I depart,
             No longer can I bear thy words,
         They lacerate my inmost heart
             And torture me, like poisoned swords.

         "Have I deserved this at thine hand?
             Of lifelong loyalty and truth
         Is this the meed? I understand
             Thy feelings, Sita, and in sooth
         I blame thee not, — but thou mightst be
             Less rash in judgement, Look! I go,
         Little I care what comes to me
             Wert thou but safe, — God keep thee so!

         "In going hence I disregard
             The plainest orders of my chief,
         A deed for me, — a soldier, — hard
             And deeply painful, but thy grief
         And language, wild and wrong, allow
             No other course. Mine be the crime,
         And mine alone. — but oh, do thou
             Think better of me from this time.

         "Here with an arrow, lo, I trace
             A magic circle ere I leave,
         No evil thing within this space
             May come to harm thee or to grieve.
         Step not, for aught, across the line,
             Whatever thou mayst see or hear,
         So shalt thou balk the bad design
             Of every enemy I fear.

         "And now farewell! What thou hast said,
             Though it has broken quite my heart,
         So that I wish I were dead —
             I would before, O Queen, we part,
         Freely forgive, for well I know
             That grief and fear have made thee wild,
         We part as friends, — is it not so?"
             And speaking thus he sadly smiled.

         "And oh ye sylvan gods that dwell
             Among these dim and sombre shades,
         Whose voices in the breezes swell
             And blend with noises of cascades,
         Watch over Sita, whom alone
             I leave, and keep her safe fr
I can hear you speak, even in your silence
Blending forever into the way I feel
Until all my thoughts burn into eternity
Within a flickering picture I hold
That dazzles my senses
And my heart steals

I will tell you where the radiance shines
To make all the clouds disappear
When I feel the warmth of tomorrow’s dawn
Tie a string of silk around my heart
Because I know you can see
Me standing here

I need not speak as you can see me tremble
At every turn your silence takes
I will tell you where the radiance shines
When I once again see the hope
That dazzles my senses
And my day makes
Copyright *Neva Flores @2011
CapsLock Jan 2015
Like a fog that blinds,
her smile dazzles you.
Like a chain that binds
her eyes imprison you.

She's a work of art.
She's such a hard worker.
She could break my heart
and she's mine all mine.

The longest dark hair
and her curvy features.
Plus two small hands
that make cute gestures.

She's a work of art.
She's such a hard worker.
She could break my heart
and she's mine all mine.
Elena Clair May 2014
Your love is like an ocean
It never ends
From the surface, it dazzles
It is wide, but calm
It reflects light and warmth
A frightening and exciting adventure
Which is ever-changing
It is deep, filled with so many mysteries
Yet left for me to discover
It is eternal, from the day the world began
to the day it ends
Just like the ebb and flow
Of the waves

So let your waters inspire me, envelop me
Let me swim deeper into the depths
And learn to find your secret places
And on the day I have to leave this world
Let me drown, content and at peace
In the wonders of your incredible love
Natalie Allen Feb 2011
Waking up early with a stretch and a yawn
The sun dazzles my eyes as i adjust to the picture
outside my window:
fresh snow
has covered the earth in a thick blanket...
my blanket still reflects the sunshine of memories in my mind
that dazzles me when I look at it.
The reflections make me wonder if the fresh white snow
is really as innocent as I once thought it to be
Just as I know my blanket holds secrets
that haven't yet
melted away.
vircapio gale Jul 2012
exude the moment;
you are a transformative fulcrum

of intersubject's rent and awe:
anthropomythic ecolaw

the dream cascades into words,
birds fly little crisps of meaning
into morning light. last night's
snow leaves a crystalline spark
of you subdued, become a finer point
of tantric sight, gazing rose-blue pulsar
lashing through a cosmic garden,
delicious fruit of spacious letting be.
i'm grasping for that pleasure,
vermillion moan of lifestring vibrance,
but the wind carries on outside,
swirling pieces of the mind in
flux of upturned joy~
our heartbreeze summoned,
now whispersssoulsounds to come
and earthly darkness grips the future frost,
thaw, break and steam as it wills;
the churning ground sings to us
of bear-sleep and jackal-howl,
of seasons transpiring,
one lost sled of memories
leaves us empty, pressing crystal sky:
my aching ideality trounced in bliss-meanders
!stunning revelation! you! You! yOu!
bringing all to be a second time,
as it was.. in me.. now new,
sweet novelty of union,
this gathering of nervure self,
gliding insights, sudden soundsss.

like a node of forest-echo swirls
it dazzles: unseen colors for my inner eye;
ancient tones of fog ripple
off something you are,
creaking center easing of my sidling,
spirit drop and wavelet growth:
as if you were a branching greenery
of my own once lost other-self,
last gasping there as what i pictured 'you'~
swayingss.. sun-spikes speaking,
sky-gaze and soaking barky iris sssuck,
moulding into me the wisdom of our past leavings,
those raspy kites of sap-filled yearnings
shadow sunshower evening.
i would be a tree with you and
let you pierce our foundations
with roots of gaiasight slipping though
our primal urgings, concrete deference
under sun arch, spin of moon. let
ignorant insistence on fetishized divides~
slipping past my grounded darkness
still unknown, remain
my underself unleashed
my silent trunk-swilling soothed,
stable chaos-other, self regiven,
life renewed in leaf,
the touch of you imbued.

the whole vision lost
but for that glimmer~
it finds me writhing unknown spirals:
ringing wonderment in a seed,
or dormant sporocarpic lineage of life,
the vast hyphae-humming cups of death-born
nethergenesis of cycled hyle me.
a womb that never knew of pain
or being evertorn in dessicated spectre-sea.

the burning desert-storms helixify our rain,
a heaving hiss-like suncry
from that dark, sandy baobabic throat.
the earth consumes in shifts,
and blossoms toward the alterbliss of you, too,
an expanse of solar flare
its beautific reach engulfing terribly,
nepho-logos spanning all the air.

ssssunlit boughs of winds' remembrance
grow soft across this window,
then shift with forest breath,
their snowlace puffed before
an azure true expanse,
the burdened greens stirring a needlish depth
of metawinter, all-too-human
starfields constellate in hiding
far behind my starshine there a curtain blue,
whose prismatic humor lights more
than scenic treescape, frigid dust.
hair, nose, glass enframed by sapless wood
of window cut to square my void revision of the world.

the colors whirl into mindflow,
inter-material upsurge-undulate,
abyssal cauldron seething passions stilled by
comic symbols of a secular mystic;
dancing eddies convey my sense of sight
just thought, then lost into a wider dance
of tensions eased and drawn,
of geometric visions seemly here and gone,
inner, outer: conveyed by stroke of
spinal eidos, its rhythm set
before my time, its tone the vital,
draping earthverse
recited in my veins, the sinews of my
life in other lives,
the song of us expressive in my gaze~
one blink()a single point of beauty
fades into another haze,
lighted icedrift iridescing evanesce.
anthropos (religion, Gnosticism) Man. (From Ancient Greek) [cf. Anthropogenesis, (an thro po jen’ e sis) n. Study of the development and origin of man]

myth·os/'miTHos/ Noun: A myth or mythology. (in literature) A traditional or recurrent narrative theme or plot structure.

*derew(o)- Indo-European root meaning "tree" or "wood"

Tantra, "weave, loom, warp"; or "principle, system, doctrine", from the two root words tanoti "stretch, extend, expand", and trayati "liberation"

Sporocarp (in fungi, known as fruiting body or fruit body): a multicellular structure in certain algae, lichens, and fungi on which spore-producing structures are borne.

Hypha · (plural hyphae). (mycology) Any of the long, threadlike filaments that form the mycelium of a fungus. The hyphae are used for reproduction and nutrient gathering.

hyle, In philosophy, refers to matter or stuff [fr. Gk "ulh" (üleh, where the ü is as in German or "lune"]

baobab, A short tree with an enormously thick trunk and large edible fruit. Other common names include boab, boaboa, bottle tree, upside-down tree, and monkey bread tree.

ne·phol·o·gy. n. The branch of meteorology that deals with clouds. [Greek nephos, cloud; see nebh- in Indo-European roots + -logy.]

logos, multivalent term fr. the Gk verb legein (soft g - modern greek lego ) "to say, speak" and also "to gather and lay down" ;  traditionally meaning "word, thought, principle, or speech"; also ratio (latin for reason), pre-linguistic language (phil.), the principle governing the cosmos, the source of this principle, or human reasoning about the cosmos. origin of  "(o)-logy." the active, material, rational principle of the cosmos; nous.  logos is marked by two main distinctions - the first dealing with human reason (the rationality in the human mind which seeks to attain universal understanding and harmony), the second with universal intelligence (the universal ruling force governing and revealing through the cosmos to humankind)

eidos, a term used by Plato for the abstract forms or ideas. fr. the Indo-European root *weid-, "see" is determinative of a substance; it is the key aspect expressed in the thing's definition as the essence or whatness of the thing. also (anthropology) the distinctive expression of the cognitive or intellectual character of a culture or a social group.
Amitav Radiance Sep 2014
The walk along the streets of fame
Streetlights illuminating the night
Dazzles are but fleeting moments
Adulation of the crowds will wane
Looking through the dark glasses
To fend off the bright camera flashes
Offered the spotlight by bright lights
They will switch off during the day
Temporary embellishments will disappear
With ease walk the streets
Where fame is just not a stereotype
Nightingale74 Oct 2015
A thin, jagged line
Of blinding light,
Cuts through the sky.
Pure electricity—
Quick as lightning—
It’s there, and then it’s gone.
It dazzles the dark sky
Like a deadly firework.
It lights up the gloomy world—
Just in time to disappear—
And plunge back into darkness.
the dead re-materialise by the side of the roadside
they are visible as though seen through a spotlight
it is a brutally interrogative light
that magnifies these corpses
makes them resemble the fragments
of suicidal terracotta pots
it magnifies them as symbolic equivalents
of their real image
its beam dazzles broken glass on the pavement
the breakage an impersonation of their cataclysm
causing the edges of seeing to hurt
and hearing to submerge itself
in a turquoise blue aquarium in fear
as speech sounds a primitive retreat
in its atavistic echoes of inveterate distraction
there is a disorder of blood stains on the road
where all emotional impulse is volatilised
causing a wild distillation of programmed anxiety
which in a different vocabulary becomes
a figment of somebody else's imagination
causing a sinister, stuporous, stagnancy of sound
in palpitations, dropped heartbeats, nausea, headaches
and a foul change in bowel function
there is a darkness
that the silver song
of soft illusion lights
in symbolic equivalents
of images real
it is a light
brutally interrogative
magnifying with dazzling rays
the breakage
at the jagged edges of the world
and lays hostage to impersonation
that resembles fragments
of smashed oval shaped mirrors
reflecting pieces of broken
brown terracotta soldiers
and causes the eyes to hurt
with a watched inner holocaust
of disturbing coloured detonations,
implosively autonomous
given to a deceived departure
a departure from reality
given by the advocacy
of ideological rationalism  
that sees three kings
with blood on their crowns
in amplified convulsions
call mustre for
disturbance, disorder, destruction
and death
as blood stains the Balkan streets
and all emotional impulse
is volatilized
and a sinister, stuporous, stagnancy
stalks the land
where sustaining minds
are subject to a brutal insensitivity
that dazzles on the edge of a spiral vertigo
it is a light
brutally interrogative
magnifying with dazzling rays
a vocabulary of incoherence
like the rancid stains of *****
that inhabit the jagged edges of the world
Arise, my soul, on wings enraptur’d, rise
To praise the monarch of the earth and skies,
Whose goodness and benificence appear
As round its centre moves the rolling year,
Or when the morning glows with rosy charms,
Or the sun slumbers in the ocean’s arms:
Of light divine be a rich portion lent
To guide my soul, and favour my intend.
Celestial muse, my arduous flight sustain
And raise my mind to a seraphic strain!
  Ador’d for ever be the God unseen,
Which round the sun revolves this vast machine,
Though to his eye its mass a point appears:
Ador’d the God that whirls surrounding spheres,
Which first ordain’d that mighty Sol should reign
The peerless monarch of th’ ethereal train:
Of miles twice forty millions is his height,
And yet his radiance dazzles mortal sight
So far beneath—from him th’ extended earth
Vigour derives, and ev’ry flow’ry birth:
Vast through her orb she moves with easy grace
Around her Phoebus in unbounded space;
True to her course th’ impetuous storm derides,
Triumphant o’er the winds, and surging tides.
  Almighty, in these wond’rous works of thine,
What Pow’r, what Wisdom, and what Goodness shine!
And are thy wonders, Lord, by men explor’d,
And yet creating glory unador’d!
  Creation smiles in various beauty gay,
While day to night, and night succeeds to day:
That Wisdom, which attends Jehovah’s ways,
Shines most conspicuous in the solar rays:
Without them, destitute of heat and light,
This world would be the reign of endless night:
In their excess how would our race complain,
Abhorring life! how hate its length’ned chain!
From air adust what num’rous ills would rise?
What dire contagion taint the burning skies?
What pestilential vapours, fraught with death,
Would rise, and overspread the lands beneath?
  Hail, smiling morn, that from the orient main
Ascending dost adorn the heav’nly plain!
So rich, so various are thy beauteous dies,
That spread through all the circuit of the skies,
That, full of thee, my soul in rapture soars,
And thy great God, the cause of all adores.
  O’er beings infinite his love extends,
His Wisdom rules them, and his Pow’r defends.
When tasks diurnal tire the human frame,
The spirits faint, and dim the vital flame,
Then too that ever active bounty shines,
Which not infinity of space confines.
The sable veil, that Night in silence draws,
Conceals effects, but shows th’ Almighty Cause,
Night seals in sleep the wide creation fair,
And all is peaceful but the brow of care.
Again, gay Phoebus, as the day before,
Wakes ev’ry eye, but what shall wake no more;
Again the face of nature is renew’d,
Which still appears harmonious, fair, and good.
May grateful strains salute the smiling morn,
Before its beams the eastern hills adorn!
  Shall day to day, and night to night conspire
To show the goodness of the Almighty Sire?
This mental voice shall man regardless hear,
And never, never raise the filial pray’r?
To-day, O hearken, nor your folly mourn
For time mispent, that never will return.
     But see the sons of vegetation rise,
And spread their leafy banners to the skies.
All-wise Almighty Providence we trace
In trees, and plants, and all the flow’ry race;
As clear as in the nobler frame of man,
All lovely copies of the Maker’s plan.
The pow’r the same that forms a ray of light,
That call d creation from eternal night.
“Let there be light,” he said: from his profound
Old Chaos heard, and trembled at the sound:
Swift as the word, inspir’d by pow’r divine,
Behold the light around its Maker shine,
The first fair product of th’ omnific God,
And now through all his works diffus’d abroad.
     As reason’s pow’rs by day our God disclose,
So we may trace him in the night’s repose:
Say what is sleep? and dreams how passing strange!
When action ceases, and ideas range
Licentious and unbounded o’er the plains,
Where Fancy’s queen in giddy triumph reigns.
Hear in soft strains the dreaming lover sigh
To a kind fair, or rave in jealousy;
On pleasure now, and now on vengeance bent,
The lab’ring passions struggle for a vent.
What pow’r, O man! thy reason then restores,
So long suspended in nocturnal hours?
What secret hand returns the mental train,
And gives improv’d thine active pow’rs again?
From thee, O man, what gratitude should rise!
And, when from balmy sleep thou op’st thine eyes,
Let thy first thoughts be praises to the skies.
How merciful our God who thus imparts
O’erflowing tides of joy to human hearts,
When wants and woes might be our righteous lot,
Our God forgetting, by our God forgot!
  Among the mental pow’rs a question rose,
“What most the image of th’ Eternal shows?”
When thus to Reason (so let Fancy rove)
Her great companion spoke immortal Love.
  “Say, mighty pow’r, how long shall strife prevail,
“And with its murmurs load the whisp’ring gale?
“Refer the cause to Recollection’s shrine,
“Who loud proclaims my origin divine,
“The cause whence heav’n and earth began to be,
“And is not man immortaliz’d by me?
“Reason let this most causeless strife subside.”
Thus Love pronounc’d, and Reason thus reply’d.
  “Thy birth, coelestial queen! ’tis mine to own,
“In thee resplendent is the Godhead shown;
“Thy words persuade, my soul enraptur’d feels
“Resistless beauty which thy smile reveals.”
Ardent she spoke, and, kindling at her charms,
She clasp’d the blooming goddess in her arms.
  Infinite Love where’er we turn our eyes
Appears: this ev’ry creature’s wants supplies;
This most is heard in Nature’s constant voice,
This makes the morn, and this the eve rejoice;
This bids the fost’ring rains and dews descend
To nourish all, to serve one gen’ral end,
The good of man: yet man ungrateful pays
But little homage, and but little praise.
To him, whose works arry’d with mercy shine,
What songs should rise, how constant, how divine!
Harrison W Jun 2013
It's an addiction
It can't be understood
In its exterior it is simplistic
In its interior it is complex

It is something that can't be understood
By those outside it
Because they don't know the highs
Or where it does take you
All those outside it can only see
Just how it will break you

But they can't see
They can't see how good it feels
The stages are easy to know
When you can follow me

Stage 1: The first date
Always the best part
The nerves
The preparation
The mystery
The first time that I touch her hand
A rush
I feel high again

Stage 2: The first kiss
Always a favorite
Because I mastered it
I take her to the perfect place
She loves it
An overlook
A stream
Nature surrounding
The kiss happens
It's perfect to her
She loves it
As do I
I feel that rush again

Stage 3: The convincing
The dating
The kissing
The sensations
All are easy to see why it's sensational
The feeling of her skin against mine
The listening to her perfect breath move her chest
In and out
In and out
I tell her I love her
She isn't sure at first
But I try harder
As we continue
And I succeed
I feel the euphoria coming in

Step 4: The love
That comfort
That security
That feeling of serenity
It cloaks me
Wraps me around
Its sky blue blanket
And lays me in
A green field
She's there too
Next to me
Feeling the same earth
Beneath us
I turn to her
Eyes whatever color
It nonetheless dazzles me
It fills me with something dangerous
That rush is gliding me through

Stage 5: The loss
Parents get in the way
She loses that feeling
I'm a *******
But either way
That feeling
That was once with her
Is gone
She walks the thin line
Performing a balancing act
Trying to find reason to be together but can't
She calls me up on the phone
Tells me how everything is wrong
I don't see it
I can't see it
Our love was perfect!
We both made it!
And now you're killing it!
We meet up
I beg but she's stands her ground
She walks up
I'm alone
Left to sob
Get angry
That adrenaline rush from the high rises

Stage 6: The hate
The pacing
The change of thoughts
I still love her one day
I despise her the next
I feel anxiety kick in
Try my best to hold it
But can't
I call her up
Yell at her
Scream at her
Tell her that
She threw something great away
She hangs up
Blocks me
Never speaks to me again
I still keep pacing
Feeling more often guilty
Than angry
Sometimes I still feel that hope
But it's fading
Fades fast
It's all over

My high is going down
I need to go back
And cook some more

She moves on quickly
I got her addicted too
She feels that addiction too
It draws us both in
And we can't imagine
What it would be like to leave
It is the cycle
That helps make us
And the cycle
That can break us
AmeriMav Oct 2018
It’s like a garden full of jasmine when the sun is going down
It’s like a rainbow, or a gentle rain, or an ocean’s rolling sound

It can’t be bought with precious jewels, or silver, or with gold
It can’t be stored, or bottled up, no strong man’s grip could hold

It can’t be forced, it must simply flow, it loses all value if faked
It shines, and dazzles, and wildly glows, especially for a loved one’s sake

It’s like a sunrise from a mountain top, or a relaxing tropic isle
It’s special, lovely, and unique, my darling, it’s your smile
As evening falls,
The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls
Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving,
Moving like music, secret and rich and warm.
How shall we live to-night, where shall we turn?
To what new light or darkness yearn?
A thousand winding stairs lead down before us;
And one by one in myriads we descend
By lamplit flowered walls, long balustrades,
Through half-lit halls which reach no end. . . .

Take my arm, then, you or you or you,
And let us walk abroad on the solid air:
Look how the organist's head, in silhouette,
Leans to the lamplit music's orange square! . . .
The dim-globed lamps illumine rows of faces,
Rows of hands and arms and hungry eyes,
They have hurried down from a myriad secret places,
From windy chambers next to the skies. . . .
The music comes upon us. . . it shakes the darkness,
It shakes the darkness in our minds. . . .
And brilliant figures suddenly fill the darkness,
Down the white shaft of light they run through darkness,
And in our hearts a dazzling dream unwinds . . .

Take my hand, then, walk with me
By the slow soundless crashings of a sea
Down miles on miles of glistening mirrorlike sand,--
Take my hand
And walk with me once more by crumbling walls;
Up mouldering stairs where grey-stemmed ivy clings,
To hear forgotten bells, as evening falls,
Rippling above us invisibly their slowly widening rings. . . .
Did you once love me?  Did you bear a name?
Did you once stand before me without shame? . . .
Take my hand: your face is one I know,
I loved you, long ago:
You are like music, long forgotten, suddenly come to mind;
You are like spring returned through snow.
Once, I know, I walked with you in starlight,
And many nights I slept and dreamed of you;
Come, let us climb once more these stairs of starlight,
This midnight stream of cloud-flung blue! . . .
Music murmurs beneath us like a sea,
And faints to a ghostly whisper . . . Come with me.

Are you still doubtful of me--hesitant still,
Fearful, perhaps, that I may yet remember
What you would gladly, if you could, forget?
You were unfaithful once, you met your lover;
Still in your heart you bear that red-eyed ember;
And I was silent,--you remember my silence yet . . .
You knew, as well as I, I could not **** him,
Nor touch him with hot hands, nor yet with hate.
No, and it was not you I saw with anger.
Instead, I rose and beat at steel-walled fate,
Cried till I lay exhausted, sick, unfriended,
That life, so seeming sure, and love, so certain,
Should loose such tricks, be so abruptly ended,
Ring down so suddenly an unlooked-for curtain.

How could I find it in my heart to hurt you,
You, whom this love could hurt much more than I?
No, you were pitiful, and I gave you pity;
And only hated you when I saw you cry.
We were two dupes; if I could give forgiveness,--
Had I the right,--I should forgive you now . . .
We were two dupes . . . Come, let us walk in starlight,
And feed our griefs: we do not break, but bow.

Take my hand, then, come with me
By the white shadowy crashings of a sea . . .
Look how the long volutes of foam unfold
To spread their mottled shimmer along the sand! . . .
Take my hand,
Do not remember how these depths are cold,
Nor how, when you are dead,
Green leagues of sea will glimmer above your head.
You lean your face upon your hands and cry,
The blown sand whispers about your feet,
Terrible seems it now to die,--
Terrible now, with life so incomplete,
To turn away from the balconies and the music,
The sunlit afternoons,
To hear behind you there a far-off laughter
Lost in a stirring of sand among dry dunes . . .
Die not sadly, you whom life has beaten!
Lift your face up, laughing, die like a queen!
Take cold flowers of foam in your warm white fingers!
Death's but a change of sky from blue to green . . .

As evening falls,
The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls
Tremble and glow . . . the music breathes upon us,
The rayed white shaft plays over our heads like magic,
And to and fro we move and lean and change . . .
You, in a world grown strange,
Laugh at a darkness, clench your hands despairing,
Smash your glass on a floor, no longer caring,
Sink suddenly down and cry . . .
You hear the applause that greets your latest rival,
You are forgotten: your rival--who knows?--is I . . .
I laugh in the warm bright light of answering laughter,
I am inspired and young . . . and though I see
You sitting alone there, dark, with shut eyes crying,
I bask in the light, and in your hate of me . . .
Failure . . . well, the time comes soon or later . . .
The night must come . . . and I'll be one who clings,
Desperately, to hold the applause, one instant,--
To keep some youngster waiting in the wings.

The music changes tone . . . a room is darkened,
Someone is moving . . . the crack of white light widens,
And all is dark again; till suddenly falls
A wandering disk of light on floor and walls,
Winks out, returns again, climbs and descends,
Gleams on a clock, a glass, shrinks back to darkness;
And then at last, in the chaos of that place,
Dazzles like frozen fire on your clear face.
Well, I have found you.  We have met at last.
Now you shall not escape me: in your eyes
I see the horrible huddlings of your past,--
All you remember blackens, utters cries,
Reaches far hands and faint.  I hold the light
Close to your cheek, watch the pained pupils shrink,--
Watch the vile ghosts of all you vilely think . . .
Now all the hatreds of my life have met
To hold high carnival . . . we do not speak,
My fingers find the well-loved throat they seek,
And press, and fling you down . . . and then forget.

Who plays for me?  What sudden drums keep time
To the ecstatic rhythm of my crime?
What flute shrills out as moonlight strikes the floor? . .
What violin so faintly cries
Seeing how strangely in the moon he lies? . . .
The room grows dark once more,
The crack of white light narrows around the door,
And all is silent, except a slow complaining
Of flutes and violins, like music waning.

Take my hand, then, walk with me
By the slow soundless crashings of a sea . . .
Look, how white these shells are, on this sand!
Take my hand,
And watch the waves run inward from the sky
Line upon foaming line to plunge and die.
The music that bound our lives is lost behind us,
Paltry it seems . . . here in this wind-swung place
Motionless under the sky's vast vault of azure
We stand in a terror of beauty, face to face.
The dry grass creaks in the wind, the blown sand whispers,

The soft sand seethes on the dunes, the clear grains glisten,
Once they were rock . . . a chaos of golden boulders . . .
Now they are blown by the wind . . . we stand and listen
To the sliding of grain upon timeless grain
And feel our lives go past like a whisper of pain.
Have I not seen you, have we not met before
Here on this sun-and-sea-wrecked shore?
You shade your sea-gray eyes with a sunlit hand
And peer at me . . . far sea-gulls, in your eyes,
Flash in the sun, go down . . . I hear slow sand,
And shrink to nothing beneath blue brilliant skies . . .

     *     *     *     *     *

The music ends.  The screen grows dark.  We hurry
To go our devious secret ways, forgetting
Those many lives . . .  We loved, we laughed, we killed,
We danced in fire, we drowned in a whirl of sea-waves.
The flutes are stilled, and a thousand dreams are stilled.

Whose body have I found beside dark waters,
The cold white body, garlanded with sea-****?
Staring with wide eyes at the sky?
I bent my head above it, and cried in silence.
Only the things I dreamed of heard my cry.

Once I loved, and she I loved was darkened.
Again I loved, and love itself was darkened.
Vainly we follow the circle of shadowy days.
The screen at last grows dark, the flutes are silent.
The doors of night are closed.  We go our ways.
Keith Wilson Apr 2017
There is a truly magical valley
Up to the north part of the Lakes District
As you pass through
Each side seems to have individual mountains
As the sun filters and dazzles
With swirling mists
That move around in ghostly fashion
Perhaps we could call it
The  valley of a thousand Hills
Keith  Wilson.  Windermere. UK  2017.
douglas chesa Feb 2012
The rain splutters at me in foreign tongue
As my mind hurdles under a mushroom
Shelter from the pelting lashes
Of nostalgic memory
Such vulnerable home from woes
Like a rodent hole in flooding summer

They tell me I am a finicky rat
That will not survive outside Sakubva
Oh but how true!
Each day I walk out in the morning
Come evening I pick every footprint I left
Back home
Prompted by need to use my footprints
Once more

Take care!
The radio blares
Save save save save
The television frowns
Wise up
Recycle is the trick in these hard times
Discarded beliefs, discarded memories, discarded tastes
Can be recycled
Recycled dreams, recycled husband, recycled wife...
I scrap my bottom in amazement
After all there is always a grain of virtue left
In what we discard -
O how I love the scent
God has made it that way
That each time you ****
Before you go
You save a nostalgic glance at your ****
Suppressing a sense of loss
For a part of you left behind

Like kites tied to strings we are
We regale in our false splendour
At time's mercy
The fruits of mental *******
Deflowered by new ****** worlds
Of lewd dreams in striking G-Strings
Gyrating ***** of fantastic insanity
That lure us
Into the heavy -bosomed clouds
Pregnant with cultural retribution
For the anarchy coursing our veins
Like the burning pain on my back
Each evening when I bend double
To pick up and bag my footprints
I left in the morning

This is not madness
When I tell you to let your beak
Of tolerance peck and peck
On your *******...
What difference is there
Between **** in your belly and
**** steaming betwixt your legs?
What difference is home
When you are young and when old?

Riding on the back of butterfly dreams
When I am a newborn macho
In the bullring of entrepreneurship
Or O such cosmopolitan hunk
In the realm of fashion and modelling...
Sounds like sheltering under a mushroom
That springs and dazzles but a day
Hope I will hurtle back
Hope sweet home, home sweet home
I am a finical rat
That won't live away from home.

preservationman Mar 2014
So many people into soft drinks think soda is soda
It’s a general subtle to that order
However, there is a feud going on between Sprite and Coke
It may sound like a joke
You might even choke
But to Sprite they have appeal
Then there’s Coke who feel they are for real
Pull out your straws and open a bottle of Coke and Sprite
Let the soda challenge begin
The texture of Sprite in the see thru glass with its lemon and lime
The Coke having its own ingredients with assorted flavor combined
However with every pour
It is the every soda fizz that is galore
Sprite says, “They have the taste that dazzles the mind”
Well Coke responds with, “We have been around since time”
The Coke’s story centered around some Poplar Bears
Well Sprite in that instance can’t compare
Sprite is determined to have the customer obey their thirst
That’s all that matters when doing it first
Well this challenge is really hard to say
But to this poet that is ok
Sprite and Coke both have good taste
Surely I am not going to spend time and make waste
So what if Sprite is clear and Coke is dark
Both have been around and made their mark
This soda challenge is done
It was a matter in thinking soft drink fun.
J Oct 2015
The strange and unusual feeling you get,
When you see her, you won't get upset.
She makes your heart jet set,
The smile you would never forget.
The eyes that dazzles like the night sky,
The one that makes you feel shy,
Hoping your conversation goes on all night.
Never ending with a goodbye.
The voice that keeps you sane,
Puts your heart beat on the fast lane,
Ends all the suffering and pain.
The one that makes everyday not so plain.
The one that you'd give the world for,
Just because she's someone you really adore.
Never puts you in a bore,
Helps to ensure happiness in you restores.


Even though how much you love that girl,
You'll only be bothersome in her world,
You would only do more harm than good,
Her feelings you would've never understood,
It felt like it was fate,
You met your soulmate.
But she didn't
That was a fact that's imprint.
What's stopping you from all this.
Is how you make her ******.
You know she deserves better,
Someone to make her happier.
You know you can't fulfil that,
You're the reason's she's mad at.
I serve you not, if you I follow,
Shadow-like, o'er hill and hollow,
And bend my fancy to your leading,
All too nimble for my treading.
When the pilgrimage is done,
And we've the landscape overrun,
I am bitter, vacant, thwarted,
And your heart is unsupported.
Vainly valiant, you have missed
The manhood that should yours resist,
Its complement; but if I could
In severe or cordial mood
Lead you rightly to my altar,
Where the wisest muses falter,
And worship that world-warning spark
Which dazzles me in midnight dark,
Equalizing small and large,
While the soul it doth surcharge,
That the poor is wealthy grown,
And the hermit never alone,
The traveller and the road seem one
With the errand to be done;—
That were a man's and lover's part,
That were Freedom's whitest chart.
david mungoshi Apr 2016
Of all known phenomena
Birth is the most wondrous
And the most miraculous
In the assortment of life’s stunners
So you always are a miracle
One readily celebrated each year
As the sparkle of your smile
Dazzles the world
Like sunshine after a dark tunnel
And the fire in your eyes is a smelter
To melt iced hearts and smelt rock faces
So dance maestro dance
And never once forget the choreography
Of the poetry in your fervent heart
Where hopes and dreams are a lovely duet
Happy birthday mover of the spirit
You who creates joy in moments of magic
When configurations of rainbow futures coax your heart
To beat intricate rhythms from life’s score sheet
Happy birthday to you, child from eternal vistas
Let your dreams carry you forward to fruition
Till life is oozing and dripping with honeyed dew
And each early morning walk is capped with shower bliss
And that promise of tomorrow and the day after the feat
Of never giving up on the business of living, no matter what
Happy birthday  to you; you of stardust and moon glow
revised and enhanced into the final version
Lavina Akari Mar 2016
January 24th

I have dragged my body through the first lunar cycle
on my hands and knees, pathetically crawling to my last days on Earth.
The illuminating moonlight bleeds through the clouds and covers the shell that I call a body like a blanket.

It's face is a wolf, prideful and strong and courageous
and I am so jealous of the power it has.

The silver light dazzles on my skin, warms me, clothes me
kisses every inch of me.
I feel its energy in my veins swimming in my blood as the wolf howls and its voice floods my ears
and I shine and everyone turns to admire my beauty.

The moon cannot shine without help from the sun,
and now I will shine upon them
Shanijua Dec 2014
That blonde hair dazzles me from afar,
Moments escape and minutes tick by
Stealing my precious heart beats,
Each a new beat for my blonde

My eyes gaze from afar,
Over his gray sweater
To the perfectly fit khakis at his
Waist and down to his brown
Suede shoes.
Oh, how I wish to feel the
Cotton at his neck, but only
Am I permitted to admire
From afar.
Moments Before Oct 2012
Serpents coal slither fire dance around sun's corona
halo vapor buzzing helix spirals
Plants and vines grow concur shrine's pearls
webs reap bubbles dormant into the Earth
Butterflies flutter on my crown gather rustle
all fly away leave the rye of golden hair  
Koi dazzles in a haze clairsentient at the dawn of shade
shell galaxy brushed a sandy lily
Black cat stills the crescent moon maduras pray
a daunting tune veil birth of death yet soon
Pandora heart slave must leave the pale fragments of rebirth
for chemistry chimes to the sound of organs Poem inspired by the works of this artist. :) Mostly the Materia series.
Liz Apr 2014
November dazzles
In its mundanity.
The month between the
Russet autumn and blue winter.
Skeletal leaves
on the lyre are strung
In azure frosts
in emerald forests
and encrusted with rubies.
Novembers reclines in its throne.
In a minute,
a minute or so
It will slip to salt
and December's long
bequeathed chorus will begin
And so I will savour
these few shining seconds
a little longer.
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2013
Grace Before Meals
Sunday afternoon, a year ago.

Early but late afternoon, end of July sun still high enough
to provide a loving and kind warmth through fractus clouds,
But doing double duty and
Supplying continuous eye candy via
riots of razzle-dazzles glistenings upon the prima facie of
my friend, my boon companion,
my bay.

Sitting on a weathered Adirondack chair,
grayed like me, a solitary outpost,
our third Musketeer,
it so belongs where I find it, in the corner of the yard,
hard by a white picket fence and footed by
an out cropping,    
a patch of wild grass uncarpeted, we are aligned,
the chair and I, in so many ways,
we accompany each other
beach-facing, one unit,
designed by man but
nature-made of, and signed by her in a cursive, gentle script as follows:

Quiet, please, for this is
a place of our mutual
quiet contemplation.

These regal chairs are tinged with green moss stains,
as I am tinged with silver streaks
so we laugh at each other
and we laugh together,
delighted to share
the grandeur of the pleasure of
the exactness of this precise moment.

The bay claps its waves
in honor of the symmetry
of the trinity of man, wood and water,
a more perfect union

My woman calls to me,
supper is ready and
I smell the onions and the raisins
and the love that singes our shared salted air

With deep regrets and promises solemn,
Adieu, Adieu my friends, bay and chair, sunlight extraordinaire,
wait for me!
This poem but my R.S.V.P.
an oath of return sworn,
for I am man, placed here only
to sing the praises of my earthly delights,
my truest friends,
I sing of thy grace,
Grace Before A Meal
Daylight 4U2C May 2014
The stars do not just whisper,
they cry and yell and beg.
we are ill,
from this horror show we cannot unsee."
The land was filled with gas,
the stars,
too high to cleanse.
The stars are begging,
put this horror to an end."

Though on the other side.
The one that plugs their ears,
clipped noses,
zipped mouths,
and the society alive,
we say nothing to the stars,
instead we simply watch them cry.

I know we let you drop the shine,
and dazzles of tears
to our revolt and vandalized land.
I'm sorry we cannot let go,
and give you all demand,
but society has this image,
and it may not go away.

I'm sorry crying, yelling stars,
but no.
Not today.
Jordan Jun 2013
Share the love like wine, get drunk with the divine, spread your kindness like kisses on your lovers behind.
Put on your magic coat, get lost with princes as frogs croak. Be beautiful and stop time, your lovers hand is yours and mine.
Pretty little girl lets take it for a whirl, back eddies of galactic swirls, your heart dazzles as mine twirls.
Shining lights so bright, making moves on the moon's night. Here in good company, our hearts echo like an orchestrated symphony. Staying put in the lime light, keeping time cause our moods right.
Jumpin Jack goes over the hill, Jill tumbles as our hearts spill, kiss me girl, lets seal the deal. Making loves like magic, you just have to know how it feels.
Waverly Nov 2011
Today there were two
people talking too much
and too loud
in the library.

Guy says,
looking down
nose moving with his eyes
over the Times New Roman legs
of a book.

"He broke up with her because
her ***** smelled like ****."

The girl across from him
has tiny fingers with no knuckles,
fingers that make tacking noises
on her Macbook.

She smiles,
in aquamarine
as the screen dazzles her pale

"She probably had a yeast infection,
or something."

There are too many people talking,
but what rights do I have?

The right to laugh with them,
to be a part of it,
to be a comrade
to be mad because they're talking
while I'm pretending not to listen
and agree?

I broke up with a girl
because her ***** smelled like
an *******.

There are too many people
full of double-entendres
and irony.
Colin Kohlsmith Feb 2010
Flitting around
Feelings abound
Opinions change
There is no ground
It all unravels
And it dazzles
As it spins and spins
And the soul travels
Toward the light
The truth that’s bright
Buffeted by thoughts
Wounded by slights
And it weans
And moves free and lean
Away from its home
It’s seventeen!
And the dices
And spices
Fill the air
With chance
At prices
Running storm clouds
Lifting all shrouds
Finding out
And wondering aloud
Amid confusion
And intrusion
Sorting out
Ideas’ illusions
And the heart stops
And the shoe drops
Pains infuses
Where the ball hops
Changing, flexing
Bursting, connecting
The chrysalis emerges
Cocoon dissecting
Liz Apr 2014
Vivid forget me nots feign sleep,
their tired eyes tinged pink.
The soap and chlorine
at Lyme Regis bay
doth stand to make me think

About the way the rushes grow
and what lurks amount the reeds,
what gently dazzles
behind closed doors
and what we doth concede.

Is the laurel leaf unfathomable?
Is nature that way too?
For I feel that I don't understand
what every body seems to.

The humbled bumbles rumbled buzz
Satin saints upon our door
We wonder what was here,  
And what was there before.

The streaming stained glass
waterfalls, were they always there?
The sickled moon stands amorous,
clotted clouds about his hair.

Stately sit the beaded stars
in a wash of sky,

And still I sit, Still I sit,
Sit and wonder why.
Amitav Radiance May 2015
Interior world seems distant
As we focus far ahead into oblivion
We lose custody of the key
To open the deepest secrets
World of fabrications dazzles
Eyes blinded by the flashes of lights
Move away from the inner world
Finally, we feel ourselves, orphaned
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2013
Winged caterpillar
That frees my soul,
Sets my mind to dreaming,
How the hand of man
Out plays the God,
Makes love
To its master.
With fondled fingers, you paint
A dumb firmament, the way
Light dazzles as it breaks
Or how the itching rain
Taps a teasing melody as it falls
To the lover ground.

Beloved of Orpheus
Whose wove you coiled in-
Vents a garment of bird song loom,
Content my breath
The way that water wells
And lolls into puddles
Nesting not before the hot,
Harpy steam.

O melodious pool,
Undulating lake, frame
To emotive vapours, without
Ship you ply in wakes.
The oarsman plucks the main,
Your body is the sail,
Drunkard winds and warblers,
Blow hard, but fail my ears,
Atone as well, the wretched sounds of day
For they are sour spells, and but a fools
Trash canned movements, in a state
So needy of weeding,
Mere sound is soiled
The way you rake.

Evolution spreads,
As stones do,
When moves the river bed,
Grace, in violence,
Sparkles as it blooms,
Like an ears creation—
Rose on the tomb.
Simon Clark Aug 2012
No Limits

Anything passes,
Let the sins of mankind roam,
They have no limits.

2. To The Barrier Breaker

Heard he had a dream,
Unite the segregated,
Changed the way we live.

3. Dusk

Evening now enters,
The sun still colours the land,
Distorted shadows.

4. Dawn

A twilight moment,
The sun hasn’t reared its head,
Horizons soft light.

5. Depression

Plunge lower than low,
Mental design of anguish,
Dark beast locks the door.

6. Swallow The Pill

Damaged by habit,
Addiction of the worst kind,
Pop to help forget.

7. Inject The Juice

Doesn’t like himself,
Takes needles to ease the pain,
In and out of life.

8. Voices At Night

I hide from their eyes,
Overhear malicious words,
Knives stabbed in my back.

9. The Piano Player

On her wooden stool,
Her hands; perfect emotion,
Ivory rhythms.

10. The Performer

Commands crowds of fans,
Confidence masks the weakness,
Bowing with élan.

11. The Spotlight

Light blinds and dazzles,
As a monologue is read,
Star; celebrity.

12. Learning Lines

Armchair, coffee, script,
Read over, over again,
Recall; osmosis.

13. Applause

Don’t let it finish,
Continue, I’ll ride the wave,
Excitement and drive.

14. Their Laughter

Deliver a line,
Chuckle to aisle rolling,
Feeling of delight.

15. Dancing

Music in my blood,
The blood begins my movement,
Dance ‘til I collapse.

16. Rehearse The Scene

Practise lines and moves,
Again, again ‘til it’s learnt,
Sections of the play.

17. Backstage

Actress waits backstage,
Breath trapped in her throat; focus,
Nerves; then she enters.

18. Rehearsal For Life

Hope this is a try,
Just a run-through of my life,
Must change decisions.

19. My Gift To You

Enjoy these pages,
Words from somewhere in my mind,
Passionate haikus.

20. Thank You…

…for reading this book,
…for trying to read between,
Thank you and goodbye.
written in 2010
Karen Hamilton Nov 2015
The sweetest smile can fill a room
It shines for miles and dazzles you,
Some try to hide but still consume
It's splendor as it spreads on through

Their inner core, seeps through their bones
Where she bore her strength, no one knows
Works its magic dished out on loan,
Lifting spirits of all of those

Who cross her path and catch a glimpse
Of beauty earthed on sweet pure lips,
A sight so scarce it leaves a print
Within all hearts it firmly grips

But eyes don't lie and few might see
Through the disguise such sweet smiles leave,
With silent cries she makes her plea
In search for light, silently grieves

Those times you find you're swept away
By selfless smiles, another's grace
Spellbound by joy her face portrays,
Seek truths behind her hiding place

The chance is high she needs a friend
To sit beside and hold her hand,
Reminding her that she'll soon mend
And find her dreams within this land.

© Karen L Hamilton, 2015
"The girl who seemed unbreakable, broke.
The girl who seemed strong, crumbled.
The girl who always laughed, cried.
The girl who never stopped trying, finally gave up.
She dropped a fake smile as a tear rolled down her cheek and whispered to herself, I can't do this anymore. "

-- Unknown

— The End —