"devotes" poems
Kimos, son of Menedoros, a young Greek-Italian,
devotes his life to amusing himself,
like most young men in Greater Greece
brought up in the lap of luxury.
But today, in spite of his nature,
he is preoccupied, dejected. Near the shore
he watched, deeply distressed, as they unload
ships with ***** taken from the Peloponnese.
G r e e k l o o t: b o o t y f r o m C o r i n t h.
Today certainly it is not right,
it is not possible for the young Greek-Italian
to want to amuse himself in any way.
3.5k
Its back again. The pain; Love.
She's not mine,
I guess she's his,
For now.
But he's most certainly not hers,
At least he doesn't act like it,
Many are his,
But he is nobody’s,
Selfish.
She deserves better,
Better than him,
Even better than me,
But if for that she'd settle I’d be in eternal glee,
She devotes her heart,
To him.
He doesn't even acknowledge.
My darling girl. She belongs with me,
I’ll treat her right,
I know could and I know I would.
I think this time it's worse,
I've fallen deeper,
It's more than love, it’s obsession,
From the way she moves, to how she talks, to things she finds funny,
Shes amazing, flawless, sweet like hunny,
And her eyes,
They glime in the light,
As if the rays of heaven have shown in my line of sight,
I could stay up till dawn staring at her,
Every seconds still as amazed with her as the last,
To her I beg come to me and leave him in the past.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 5:27 PM UTC
There is an old homonym used in this poem e.g. “habit”. Its usage in the opening lines is something I wrote on a napkin decades ago. It creates a pleasant ambiguity in the mix. Homonyms are words that are spelled and sound the same but have different meanings. The question is, it a nun’s habit or just a good/bad habit?
“The truth is that everyone is bored, and devotes himself to cultivating habits.” Albert Camus
Take a look at this old habit
I know it’s worn, I’ve had it for years
It’s tattered and torn in all the right places
Cost me a dime and a lifetime of tears
Transforming my soul it is worn with respect
Counting the memories it passes the test
Round the corner off the end of the bend
My shivering tears contend with the rain
Mentions of settlements wrought in pain
Never will I ever be here again
Deliver me now to the dragon’s lair
I don’t even care if it’s not really there
Made a hat to match from a well weathered mat
I tossed it aside to the place where it’s at
Never again will I tread on this time
“Buyer beware” of this train of thought
It could cost you a page
From your own weathered book so
Never forget when you came on this chance
And never believe you can get it all back
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 6:20 PM UTC
XVII
My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes
God set between his After and Before,
And strike up and strike off the general roar
Of the rushing worlds a melody that floats
In a serene air purely. Antidotes
Of medicated music, answering for
Mankind’s forlornest uses, thou canst pour
From thence into their ears. God’s will devotes
Thine to such ends, and mine to wait on thine.
How, Dearest, wilt thou have me for most use?
A hope, to sing by gladly? or a fine
Sad memory, with thy songs to interfuse?
A shade, in which to sing—of palm or pine?
A grave, on which to rest from singing? Choose.
1.3k
I've met so many people
In this one lifetime
Befriending faces and so many names
Often only for but brief, moments
A few will stick around for a while
Rarest are for a life time
All with qualities, short-comings
and vis-versa, but none closer to perfect
Devotion from one person to another
is a rare blessing to be had
But from mans' best friend it's a given
To a man that friend devotes all of his attention
Always ready and willing to lather on the affection
Happy with just the pat on his soft head, with it, he is in heaven
Will I ever know another soul like him?
One that will never purposely harm or mistreat me for no good reasons?
In my opinion that answer is a resounding NO
No, not man, not a woman, no human not ever
Because not a man alive could ever handle the heart of our dogs' burden
That of our best friends, of our k9 companions
Unselfish, and unquestioning devotion will never be a humans
No, our burden is simply the curse that we out live them
So that as they pass from where we know and love them,
Into the place that we can not simply look down and pat them
I pray that place has someone just as awesome waiting for them
Someone who makes them a world to live in and celebrates every second they share with them
Asking nothing back from them... And While we all just keep going on...
Heartbroken, but profoundly and fiercely proud to have ever known them.
We might hope and pray daily...
One day, when it's our day... Might just be when,
we look down and again
there we find that beloved friend... Right then,
and realize that heart has never forgotten...
Smiling at us... Tail wagging...
Because this time he knows we'll never separate from him.
As we both walk on as is destined.
When the hard work is done,...
Distractions of living are all gone...
Finally we can pay them their due attention.
And never be mean,.. nor take them again for granted...
Only believe in... nor be separated from them...
It'll be our time together in what surely must be heaven.
Dogs hearts will forever be the greatest love, this man will ever learn to miss so badly...
As I will. I will miss you so very badly Scrappy, and you too Toby. Good Doggies!... I'll only regret every day I must live with out them. Til my work too is finished boys... Till then enjoy your new friends.
your poppa...
Jack.
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 6:11 PM UTC
Gorging my eyes with the non-sense and the ******** of the internet.
Feeding my mind the comical lives of those on reality TV.
Is this really what the world has come to?
Our lives consumed with your lives,
consumed with their lives,
consumed with our lives.
Twitter ***** toast to tweeting.
Tweet your lives away you ******
Who thought that a piece of paper could be so powerful?
Who thought a piece of paper would dominate mans will?
Who thought a piece of paper could lead to our destruction?
Who thought a piece of paper could make a man ****
President painted on each paper.
"Look at all those Benjamins!" you shout.
I highly doubt,
that the founding fathers would want to be on a piece of paper,
a piece of corruption,
a piece of destruction.
We have destroyed what the founding fathers built.
A land of freedom, justice, and pride,
is now a kingdom to the modern day CEO's,
and the fame ridden ***** that patrol our TV's.
The average actor makes more in one movie than the year round shopkeeper.
A man who devotes his life to supplying the public with proper products and good service,
makes less than a man who does something that we don't even need.
We need food, water, and all the shopkeepers supplies.
But do we really need a movie?
I did not know entertainment was higher on Maslow's hierarchy of needs.
I would like to see you solely survive off of a movie.
I feel bad for my children.
The children of the future in general.
That is, if we live that long.
They are going to have it rougher than me.
And sadly,
I alone cannot make their future better for them.
Only we, as one, can make it better.
But,
that will never happen.
We are divided,
our will, divided,
our minds, divided,
our spirits, divided.
We will never be one again.
With that said and done,
I'm going to finish my dinner now.
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 10:05 PM UTC
He chose you. I hope you know how lucky you are. I tried so hard to be it for him -- hell, I wanted it to be him so badly -- but I just never was.
Don't worry, even though you have no reason to. I know my place, and so do you.
He loves intensely. Fully. As compelling as the moment you first saw him and it felt as if the stars finally aligned in your favor. As strong as the gush of wind whenever it storms. As overwhelming as holding his heart in your hands. As powerful as the waves that meet the shores. As hard as I stupidly fell for him. Am falling. But trying to let go of.
So when you doubt that love... Just don't.
Don't be bothered when he replies a few hours too late, just be glad that he makes time for you. Don't act affected when he puts his other responsibilities before you, it's just that he's always been an overachiever. He's so used to juggling everything on one hand that he forgets he has yours to hold through it all. Swallow your pride, and accept that he will always be occupied. Don't compare yourself to his past lovers, or the other girls, including I, who are so gone for him. You aren't competing with shadows anymore.
I wish I could call him mine, but he's all yours to adore. *It's you, and it will always ******* be you.*
And I hope you know he loves playing chess. Half the time he devotes to studying is actually spent playing that geeky game. Tease him about it because you love seeing him smile. He drinks ridiculously copious amounts of alcohol but he'll never admit to it. He eats food off the floor. He denies his crazy ways since he just wants to bicker with you about something. He says the quirkiest statements but appreciates it when you let out your peculiar side with him. He'll never let you open your door on your own. He'll wait for you. Always. He claims he's shy, but God knows he could charm anyone's pants off.
Do me a favor: don't be afraid of loving him, and the love he could give.
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC
The last time the caged bird sang,
So light, so shrill,
The memories rang,
To forget would ****
Her life was encaged,
Tightly bound,
She promised herself to never rage,
Her homes were compressed and never found.
Deterioration took place,
On the brink of hysteria,
Fragile as aged lace,
Life became a controlled area.
With her lovely wings,
She used to soar,
She only remembered the hard things
Ambitions leaked through the cracks on the floor.
Lies came into mind,
Revealing and bitter,
It was one of a kind,
How this hit her.
All she asks for is closure,
Of her torn heart,
The ways they still hold her,
It tears her further apart.
Living in this is driving her to conclusions,
She thought she would never meet.
Lying to herself, "It's just an illusion",
This is her defeat.
She had the confidence to break through it all,
The hope begins to lose their vibrant colors
Rock bottom broke her fast paced fall,
She lies there and devotes herself to wonders
So as the caged bird sang for the last time,
So light, so shrill,
The memories are ringing,
To remember kills.
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 2:30 PM UTC
Dear Child,
I hold so frail in my arms,
I look down and wish to protect you from all that harms,
But I know as the years grow more,
It will be harder on your choices to implore,
Your first few years will be a pleasant walk,
Where I teach and you don’t talk,
But as years go by,
A mother can only wonder what’s ahead will lie,
Soon it will be that “I don’t understand you”,
Even though I was a teenager too,
It’ll be that I am uncool,
You avoid me in public, especially at your school,
You will refuse my tender love,
I’ll be told “mom seriously that’s enough.”
We’ll disagree about boys,
Because you love him,
And I have no choice,
I’ll warn of things,
And you’ll just say “Whatever.”
As with every year my heart stings,
Because you think you’re more clever,
Dear child so small so frail,
Trust your mother and the boats she has set sail,
Trust your mother, whom upon you dotes,
She’s your mother, who to you her life devotes,
As time flies by,
So short as momentary as a sigh,
I watch her learn, I watch her grow,
As all who walk by in her soul do sow,
Will I ever be able to always protect my child?
Keep her sweet, young and undefiled,
I know her passion not mild,
Her streaks like mine is so to live wild,
But a good heart in her I did implore,
This young girl a mother does so adore,
A mother only wishes she could be there every step of the way,
And help a daughter understand,
She knows the exact games life tends to play.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 1:05 AM UTC
Feel the eyes traverse every curve of the body
as the gaze radiates the toes, calves, thighs with admiration
Feel the voice caress every need of the wants
as the breath vibrates the skin, hairs, ***** with fiery chills
Feel the thoughts quench every fantasy of the mind
as the images soak the sleep, dreams, sheets with heated moisture
Feel the words arouse every aspect of the senses
as the sound soothes the heat, desire, thirst core to the essence
Feel me, as the words become the sublime
Feel me, as the words invade the conscious
Feel me, as the thoughts shatter the stone walls
Feel me, as the thoughts comfort the concerns
Feel me, as the voice devotes the belief
Feel me, as the voice conquers the mistrust
Feel me, as I am more than just a man
Feel me, as I am now one with your soul.
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 12:18 AM UTC
Seemingly precise yet akimbo
Inflected glares bend windows
Directly begin kin in skin
We sin again.
Yours is mine redefined
More blessed so unaligned.
Sight delight our kindled spite
Adjourn loops and dash hopes
Love longs its wrong devotes.
A myriad making way
Unelectric secrete display
Rolling sheets tumbling say
Let fluid fly demon's prey.
Loping along
Coping strong
Moaning songs
Rejoicing our way
The way to Much.
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 7:29 PM UTC
Salvador devotes the rest of his life
praying to save the world from hunger and war
and pestilence.
He preaches to the beggars: *ignore
hunger, thank God for the beauty of this smog-
infested sky where the moon and the stars
and the fireflies succumb to the blasts of neon
lights and flares of profit.*
He preaches to the beggars: *endure
life as you sleep in pavements among blots
of bubble gum and dirt and spit and morsels
of pity. This hell tempers your faith.*
He preaches to the beggars: *learn
the ways of gadflies -- know with pinpoint precision
where to look for carcass to feast on.*
But the beggars gather away from Salvador’s
prayers. Cradled by their pus and grime
and lice and love of life; with their hard-bitten
fingers and sermon-broken eardrums and
bleeding hearts, they
heave the birthing of their own salvation.
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
I'm using this experience,
to become someone better,
a person who devotes more time to themselves,
and their own self pleasure,
I'm going to stop being 'me'
and start as someone else,
I'm going to tackle all my problems
and not leave them to cascade.
I will be the stronger person,
confidence will envelope me,
and I will rid self hate,
I will wear kaleidoscope colours,
and plait my wild hair,
I will light incense and candles,
and not give a ****
I will get good grades,
and work as hard as I can,
I am over all of this,
although tears have been shed,
I am good enough,
and I won't just hide away in bed.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 3:56 AM UTC
I chose you to be part of my life, engraved deep into my soul, blood assaulting my every vein unconscious from that revered dream, each morning to wake up haunted back by reality. Existence kills me as it devotes you, different worlds – what fate ordained us to be, still I try each day to be a life you’d notice one day.
Jul 22, 2011
Jul 22, 2011 at 10:46 AM UTC
Fragility is the membrane
As peace is the crux
Our constant search for the latter
Devotes our journey through flux
Keys do not build
Doors, signs or the floor
Keys only open doors
That we build to hide much more
Within these doors hold grounds
For scents and aromas beyond mankind
It merely is a part of our universe;
Finding resemblances is a game of our mind
Locking doors to banish our demons
From flowing, entering and ruling
Reminds us that we must unlock frequently
To invite our guardians patrolling
Without a crack or two
What light are we letting in?
The descent may be filled with darkness
But we are our torch, shining from deep within
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 9:40 AM UTC
A mother's love knows no limit
When she loves she truly loves
When she cares she devotes herself
her time, attention, love,
to her loved ones like no other
only a mother knows this kind of love...
so never hurt a mother's heart
if you call her ma...
when she is hurt... she hurts..
no matter how great love she has...
how loving care she gives
no matter how warm her heart is..
she also has a human heart....
not the same heart but extra ordinary
A mother’s love is patient and forgiving
even though the heart is breaking...
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 12:45 AM UTC
she's immersed with his voice.
as always, she listens to his songs
and continues to fall
in love with him
even though he's gone.
she's not hooked on to the static screen
like the others
but devotes her time
to listen to the
beautiful man sing and play his sitar.
she "loves you to"
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
to you
i hope you take me as seriously as i take you
there was a glimmer in your eye i swear i could see
and maybe after all of this time- this game of tug
of war we've had- our two lights could be joined
together- like a star birth so fantastic in the vastness
of the galaxy
i long for the day i can give you my undivided attention.
i know you appreciate me far more than i have been able
to appreciate you.
i fear if i took any more time to look fully at your naked soul
you may become my obsession.
-and I may realize life would be impossible to continue
without you by my side.
we'll probably never be together, truth be told.
but i envy the woman who fully devotes herself to your arms.
for she will know security without doubt, she will be drowned in the aftertaste of your sincerity- tingling from the warmth of your skin.
i forgot to wish you a happy birthday.
and I don't want to.
I want to be suspended in time every encounter we have- in a space where life does not weather our skins or tarnish our beautiful souls. i will remain young and still seemly, you aged in sparsity with a sophisticate air.
I believe God has a plan for us.
in this life or the next.
maybe in the heavens our souls will rest.
but for now I pretend I don't care about anything
or anyone.
it will hurt too much.
until next time, you perfect- but oh so familiar- stranger.
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 12:48 AM UTC
Shall I exalt your grace as season's bring?
In winter; you're a frosty glazed escape
upon the icy sculpts of harps and string,
then plays the autumn leaves, that oaks undrape.
The ochre glides as you cavort the green
till blossoms bow; to all your springlike glow,
amidst the roses we proclaim a queen!
A spring vernal upon us - you bestow.
When dew has dried by amber's master hue
and caroms off the sea the summer beams,
within akin; devotes my lovers view
that eyes azure could match the ocean's seams.
My many seasons you are in cascade!
This love shall bask in each - when one is made.
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 4:23 PM UTC
He devotes all of his time
he even dreams rhymes
he's pushing himself hard
and nothing but death can stop him
He's an obsessive lover of the art
a creature of light and dark
he prays daily for the strength
and he will go to any length
He's lost a few friends on the way
but that's their loss he does say
not one day does he not write
for him it's a religious fight
If you stand in his path
and dare to not let him pass
with all guns loaded
he will open a can of whoop ***
So don't think for one moment
not for you, them or anyone
that this creature of poetry
can ever be stopped
For his poetry is not just religion
but to this creature it is a crusade
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris
© 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 10:44 AM UTC
A man in a field walks through a storm.
Snowflakes on his eyelashes blur his vision.
A man in a study believes in snow,
believes in the truth of snow.
A man leaves traces as he walks.
His tracks ornament the field’s blank.
He meanders, doubles back, evading,
leaves imprints that the snow erases.
A man walks. The snow falls.
In a study, a man devotes himself to snow.
He reads from the book of snow.
He composes wintry axioms.
“Snow: Atmospheric water vapor frozen into ice crystals
that drop on a walking man’s eyelashes
or lie blank in an unwritten field.
“Snow is a conflict,
a confusion, a yearning.
Letters are desire.
Margins are melancholy.”
The storm disappears.
A man squints at blurred words,
Resumes writing,
Shaking snow from the page.
Apr 14, 2019
Apr 14, 2019 at 6:42 AM UTC
I picture her hands and
An image comes to mind.
Nails painted red and
Fingers wearing rings of every sort:
Sometimes gold, silver,
A diamond, and even sometimes
A turquoise stone.
Her hands,
Always pristine
Always giving
Somehow she always gives
Selflessly.
It's in her hands that she provides
And cares
And devotes
And yearns
And loves.
I will always remember her hands
Because they are the hands of someone who gave me life
If only my hands were so pure
So excellent
So impeccable and
Distinctly memorable.
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
Here is the Earth,
far from the Haven
where thee and my son
are sleeping soundly
I see but my son sleeps
still sleeps on my chest
I love him and he loves me too -
Here is the Earth
far from the Haven
where the lake and the hill
twist with each other
hill lies but the lake
sleeps on her chest
lake devotes on
and hill cherishes too
Here is the Earth
far from the Haven
there the moon shimmers
on my old window
where moon laughs and
my dreams are rising slowly
moon kisses my dreams
and dream kisses her too
There is the Haven
far from the Earth
here Earth kisses the haven
but Haven never
Here Earth is lonely
but there Haven is full
Earth missed the Haven
but Haven never
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
A boy trapped in a growing man's body.
Emotions uncontrollable
Environments unstable
Afraid of the past
Terrified of the future
Living only reluctantly in the now.
His history is a mess of abuse, negligence, heartbreak, and death. He forgets the first, pretends the second wasn't his fault, relives the third daily, and is so used to the fourth he just doesn't care.
Tragedy isn't tragic when it's the norm.
Misused by his father,
Mistreated by his peers,
Misunderstood by the world.
And yet, he tries.
His emotions get the best of him.
So he separates. Confronts. Analyzes.
Reinstates.
Stronger than ever, he tries again.
He no longer denies his emotions, and instead accepts them gladly.
Things are fine.
But he can feel them slipping.
So he devotes himself to his own, personal solution. He works day in, day out to understand just who he is and what he's feeling.
Acting isn't the right word, but it's the one people use.
He prefers "living."
Having done it on a daily basis for years, it only makes sense to continue to do so.
But this time, with a new goal. A new frame of mind.
He wants to be happy. happy with his past, happy with who he is, what he's done, where he's going. Just, happy.
Not that he isn't, now. Now, he's reflecting.
In his quest to trust himself, he loses the trust of others.
"You're an actor. I'm scared that I can't tell when you're being honest, or just pretending."
I'll ignore them saying that what I do on a daily basis is pretend, and just say, it still hurts.
It hurts more than everything up to that point and he begins to lose trust in himself.
The first time he hears it, doubt.
The second, fear.
The third, anger.
And as he writes and/or speaks it again, to taste the taunt on his tongue, for the eight thousand millionth time...
Vulnerability.
And this isn't his usual subject. usually he tries to change the lives of others, to write about something more than himself.
Right now, that isn't the case.
Right now, he's dropping his facade, one he'd forgotten he was wearing, and begging strangers who he can trust more than his loved ones to simply trust him.
It's hard. To try and make the world better. He's not a saint, or martyr, and he's not trying to be. He's human, and he's in more pain than he'll ever let on.
Except amidst a sea of faces and words and songs and writing and ideas he may never see again. Here, he finds comfort. Trust.
Peace.
Here he is more at home than in his mother's arms.
All he asks is for you to trust him, in kind.
He thanks you now, having finished reflecting, for doing so.
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 3:34 AM UTC
Candles burning
through the night
red wine, the
deeper burgundy
velvet shadow of
your hands
you falling
the orange
Jack
O' Lantern moon-
suspended in the
smoke filled
summer
sky
I'll watch your bottomless eyes
fill with me-
me, falling.
through the end, the passage of dark, radical
mysterious need and
desire
Where the moon can watch us until the stars
swim away, choose to stay,
play trapeze in the sky
or lose their blaze
Darling I need you to
demand me like
the moon, openhandedly,
devotes
to the sea.
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 2:51 AM UTC