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"eagerly" poems
~*for M. both a living one, and imagined, too*~ 10/5/25 just woke up and began to work; the muses are cofuse-ed they think when head hits pillow. it is there then the~moment to refill my head with verses glorious, alas, alack, into the sub-subconscious furnace they go to melt, meld or even die iron of ironies; 90% of these words, were adrift in my head when I to bed, "for to be repaired" last night, and only came to be recalled @ 2:34 am when them muses and you guru, woke me to 'get outta bed', and you    who bids me sleep, this clashing arousal, starts engine's cylinders to begin live~composing, stoking and stroking, to awake, create, reassemble and uncover the poetic notions trans~versing my head one-day, someday they will depart, for cleaner, greener Champs-Élysées, where reborn poets speak all languages with equal fluency, eagerly awaiting my spouting in Hindi (already ✅), in Hebrew and any/all dialecticals this god earth ever mothered And there you have it, my FPOTD, dear m., SUNday 10/5  & writ in the city where I am alive in the Den of Writing, where the muses like to hang out with their old companion, until such time they will come to inhabit a younger, well rested, equally restless, a not-my-mine mind <nml>
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Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 3:08 AM UTC
FPOTD: good mid-of night, my beautiful muses, living and imagined
The joyful heart is the buoyant heart— empowered to rise above its circumstances, unweighted, unburdened, unbound, tied only to that which would lift it higher, untethered from anything which would pull it down, pull it under or suffocate it. It's the free heart, quiet and at rest yet jubilant and uncontained, the celebrating heart, the praising heart, the thankful heart, the heart set on pilgrimage, bent on adventure, journey and romance. All the while it's a waiting heart because it's a yielded, led heart— a heart which doesn't run ahead of the LORD but willingly, quickly to the LORD— a heart that though eagerly anticipating each twisting turn, next horizon and changing path keeps its eyes fixed not on the scenery but forever on the Shepherd because it's a heart persuaded that He alone is the Great Reward for which it has always been looking. True joy is only ours when we find an endless source of satisfaction, and of these I know only One! The secret to all joy is to crave Him above all else. The joyful heart is the one addicted fully to Him, desperate for Him to the expense of all else, willing to sacrifice everything to have that craving satisfied. Joy and idols, I have learned, do not easily reside together in the same heart. So if I find that joy is chased away the most likely culprits are my own desires. What am I wanting more than Jesus? For if intimacy with Him is the supreme goal of my life then nothing can arise which I'm not enabled to bear with joy. There is, I suppose, nothing so reliable as suffering and loss to expose all of the hidden idols within me. It's surely those who have suffered the greatest and most frequent losses for Christ who are also most capable of knowing the deepest and most abiding joy. For it's when we've been stripped bare of everything else that we begin to know for certain that our joy is based not on the temporary blessings of our circumstances but only on the presence of the Eternal Blesser Himself. Sometimes He offers to us all that is in His right hand, but for any with eyes truly opened to see the most precious of times may be those when He offers to us only the intimacy of His right hand. Rivers of sadness can open up into wide gulfs of endless delight and are often the very courses needed to carry us there. When all is lost, we find to our amazement that, even so, we still have ALL and no one can rob us of it. When He takes everything from us He proves Himself to be EVERYTHING to us.
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Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 4:11 PM UTC
~ The Joyful Heart ~
The joyful heart is the buoyant heart— empowered to rise above its circumstances, unweighted, unburdened, unbound, tied only to that which would lift it higher, untethered from anything which would pull it down, pull it under or suffocate it. It's the free heart, quiet and at rest yet jubilant and uncontained, the celebrating heart, the praising heart, the thankful heart, the heart set on pilgrimage, bent on adventure, journey and romance. All the while it's a waiting heart because it's a yielded, led heart— a heart which doesn't run ahead of the LORD but willingly, quickly to the LORD— a heart that though eagerly anticipating each twisting turn, next horizon and changing path keeps its eyes fixed not on the scenery but forever on the Shepherd because it's a heart persuaded that He alone is the Great Reward for which it has always been looking. True joy is only ours when we find an endless source of satisfaction, and of these I know only One! The secret to all joy is to crave Him above all else. The joyful heart is the one addicted fully to Him, desperate for Him to the expense of all else, willing to sacrifice everything to have that craving satisfied. Joy and idols, I have learned, do not easily reside together in the same heart. So if I find that joy is chased away the most likely culprits are my own desires. What am I wanting more than Jesus? For if intimacy with Him is the supreme goal of my life then nothing can arise which I'm not enabled to bear with joy. There is, I suppose, nothing so reliable as suffering and loss to expose all of the hidden idols within me. It's surely those who have suffered the greatest and most frequent losses for Christ who are also most capable of knowing the deepest and most abiding joy. For it's when we've been stripped bare of everything else that we begin to know for certain that our joy is based not on the temporary blessings of our circumstances but only on the presence of the Eternal Blesser Himself. Sometimes He offers to us all that is in His right hand, but for any with eyes truly opened to see the most precious of times may be those when He offers to us only the intimacy of His right hand. Rivers of sadness can open up into wide gulfs of endless delight and are often the very courses needed to carry us there. When all is lost, we find to our amazement that, even so, we still have ALL and no one can rob us of it. When He takes everything from us He proves Himself to be EVERYTHING to us.
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56
I saw a carving from Bethlehem that you had given my Nan, She showed me a photograph of you, you were tall, with a golden tan. The carving it was inscribed, 'with love from your brother Tom', I knew my Nan had looked up to you, when all was said and done. My Nan she was a little girl, when you were called away, With her mother she waited eagerly for news, day, by day, by day. In her eyes you were a hero who had gone off to the war, Your smiling face, and uniform, were the last things that she saw. She dreamt of the day that you would come back, striding through the gate, she heard her mother pacing, though she didn't know your fate. She heard her mother weeping but didn't want to know the reason why, In her stomach she had a feeling that something was awry. Then her mother sat her down and told her you were dead, She told me she went dizzy, blood rushing to her head. She told me she cried out your name, her heart it was pure broken, The army sent a telegram, but it was really just a token. You were just a boy of eighteen years when you were forced away, I wonder how many mothers would cope if  their  sons left today. They couldn't give you a grave, there was nothing left to bury, You were blown to pieces in one hit, with bombs dropped in a flurry. You only lasted for three months in your short, tough, army life, My Nan died aged eighty-four, after a life of grief and strife, She pined for you throughout those years and missed you everyday, Her hero, her brother Tom, who left and went away. She worried that when you fought, you longed for her and home And worried that you were consumed with fear, and if that fear had grown. She wondered if you had called out "Mum" and if your blood was swept by the tide, how desperately she had wished, that she had been there, by your side. The reason I know of you today, is that girl who became my Nan, Who kept your memory alive as she always did back then, I tell my sons about you Tom,  I hope it's the right thing to do, And I hope that  they will love me as much, as my Nan had loved you.
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 2:11 PM UTC
Tribute to a soldier
I saw a carving from Bethlehem that you had given my Nan, She showed me a photograph of you, you were tall, with a golden tan. The carving it was inscribed, 'with love from your brother Tom', I knew my Nan had looked up to you, when all was said and done. My Nan she was a little girl, when you were called away, With her mother she waited eagerly for news, day, by day, by day. In her eyes you were a hero who had gone off to the war, Your smiling face, and uniform, were the last things that she saw. She dreamt of the day that you would come back, striding through the gate, she heard her mother pacing, though she didn't know your fate. She heard her mother weeping but didn't want to know the reason why, In her stomach she had a feeling that something was awry. Then her mother sat her down and told her you were dead, She told me she went dizzy, blood rushing to her head. She told me she cried out your name, her heart it was pure broken, The army sent a telegram, but it was really just a token. You were just a boy of eighteen years when you were forced away, I wonder how many mothers would cope if  their  sons left today. They couldn't give you a grave, there was nothing left to bury, You were blown to pieces in one hit, with bombs dropped in a flurry. You only lasted for three months in your short, tough, army life, My Nan died aged eighty-four, after a life of grief and strife, She pined for you throughout those years and missed you everyday, Her hero, her brother Tom, who left and went away. She worried that when you fought, you longed for her and home And worried that you were consumed with fear, and if that fear had grown. She wondered if you had called out "Mum" and if your blood was swept by the tide, how desperately she had wished, that she had been there, by your side. The reason I know of you today, is that girl who became my Nan, Who kept your memory alive as she always did back then, I tell my sons about you Tom,  I hope it's the right thing to do, And I hope that  they will love me as much, as my Nan had loved you.
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32
Patiently he untangles the net Standing calmly Brazing the breeze On the dancing boat With an oar on its side Which is cooled by the Waters of the river.. The sun will set in an hour or so And he has to finish his catch Before the dusk And back to his hut Where his wife will Waiting eagerly To make the dinner With the fresh catch Another day Another catch The river but Remains the same Greeting the fishermen Who roam the river With their boats
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Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 1:31 PM UTC
The fisherman and his boat
and this day it was Spring….us drew lewdly the murmurous minute clumsy smelloftheworld. We intricately alive,cleaving the luminous stammer of bodies (eagerly just not each other touch)seeking,some street which easily tickles a brittle fuss of fragile huge humanity…. Numb thoughts,kicking in the rivers of our blood,miss by how terrible inches speech—it made you a little dizzy did the world’s smell (but i was thinking why the girl-and-bird of you move….moves….and also,i’ll admit—) till,at the corner of Nothing and Something,we heard a handorgan in twilight playing like hell
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12.1k
And This Day It Was Spring....Us
We are living wonders. Our bodies, our minds, our souls, unfathomably intricate beyond all knowing. The true essence our being, a microcosm of unlimited possibility. Living in wonder. Behold the marvels of this vast universe. Consumed by the mysterious unknown, desperately we seek to understand it, eagerly trying to grasp all that is. Wondering why we live. What purpose is there for our existence. Many say this. Others say that. All answers become more questions. Forever we wonder. We are living wonders, Living in wonder, Wondering why we live.
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
Living Wonders
Hidden behind my desires. Fantasies of ecstasy frustrating me. My body tempting me sensually. Sexuality turning on me, arousing my entity. My fingers betraying me, ****** my body eagerly. Probing between my legs relentlessly, consuming my whole body; selfishly. Weakening my flesh; this tantalizing energy claiming the deepest depths of my ***** Scandalous imagery, mentally ravaging me, seducing me, teasing my lips, guiding my fingertips effortlessly, long fingers dip, disappearing; deep inside of me. My ***** tightens, the feelings heighten. Warm liquids drip, stone hard **** pulling and rubbing it. Wrist twist,palm grinding against my ***** legs clasp, my insides amass giving way, As I spray, my exhausted body collapses.
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
Temptress (Explicit)
You made your choice, our song is sung - I wont speak of your sins -   or the pull of your riptide tongue -    not of losses and wins -    I found religion in your eyes -   Prayed silently for love - Drank eagerly your liquored guise - been drunk for long enough.
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Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
Drunk
A part of me lives miles and minutes and moments away in an indefinite, dreamy place where clocks are not my enemy and I associate the word “distance" with travel, not longing My heart has sailed across the Atlantic, moved eagerly through the Indian Ocean, navigated using an atlas inked with butterflies and stars that gleam ardently (just as your rosemary eyes do, every once in a blue moon, when you’re able to sew together the disarrayed thoughts that dwell in your messy head) You are so, so far away However, if I avoid calendars and geography, it feels like you’re right here beside me In the afternoon, when the sun shines through my bedroom window and paints the world map on my wall with light, I shut my eyelids and run my thumb along the string that stretches across the parchment, connecting me to you I pretend that when I open my eyes, you will be here and that my aching fingers that are so desperately grasping the paper will be intertwined with yours
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Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 1:35 PM UTC
Australia
The snow leopard and the little fox were sound asleep. The leopard curled up around the young fox keeping them both warm in the cold weather. As the sun started to arise the leopard awoke from his slumber. He then softly pat his little young fox apprentice's head, "Wake up little one. A new day awaits us," he said with a smile as he stood on all fours and stretched out his back. The little fox grunted and yawned "It's too early," she whined as she curled up tighter, "The sun isn't even fully up in the sky yet" was her rebuttal to his awakening. The leopard took her by the scruff and softly tossed her into the snow covered field. "Ahhh!~Ooof." The little fox yelled as she tumbled into the snow. "You know what they say, the early bird catches the worm, the early cat catches the bird." The leopard laughed slightly as he spoke, watching the little fox stand up all covered in fresh snow from last nights fall. "Well what's that have to do with me?!?" the fox shouted slightly, being slightly agitated about him tossing her. The leopard smirked as he walked by her and pat her head again, dusting off the snow, "It has everything to do with you, it has everything to do with everyone. It means the sooner you wake the more you can do. The more time you have in the day to do what you want," the leopard exclaimed with pride and excitement in his voice, "Do you ever ask yourself why there is so much left you want to do by the end of the day but just didn't have enough time? Well this helps you get more done. It gives you more time." The little fox tilted her head slightly to he side and looked down a bit, "I guess you are right," she said softly. Not knowing what else to say, she stood up and shook the snow off of herself then rush over to the leopard. "So what lesson will I learn today?" she asked eagerly. The leopard smiled as they started walking, "Didn't you just learn something?" he said as he raised an eyebrow. The little fox giggled softly and started pouncing around him laughing happily and saying "Well yea. But I want to learn more." The leopard laughed and looked to her, "Slow and steady wins the race little one. Slow and steady. we will find something for me to teach you, or for us to learn, as time goes on." he said softly but wisely as they kept walking into the woods, away from the sunrise.
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May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
The Leopard and The Fox(Part 2)
The snow leopard and the little fox were sound asleep. The leopard curled up around the young fox keeping them both warm in the cold weather. As the sun started to arise the leopard awoke from his slumber. He then softly pat his little young fox apprentice's head, "Wake up little one. A new day awaits us," he said with a smile as he stood on all fours and stretched out his back. The little fox grunted and yawned "It's too early," she whined as she curled up tighter, "The sun isn't even fully up in the sky yet" was her rebuttal to his awakening. The leopard took her by the scruff and softly tossed her into the snow covered field. "Ahhh!~Ooof." The little fox yelled as she tumbled into the snow. "You know what they say, the early bird catches the worm, the early cat catches the bird." The leopard laughed slightly as he spoke, watching the little fox stand up all covered in fresh snow from last nights fall. "Well what's that have to do with me?!?" the fox shouted slightly, being slightly agitated about him tossing her. The leopard smirked as he walked by her and pat her head again, dusting off the snow, "It has everything to do with you, it has everything to do with everyone. It means the sooner you wake the more you can do. The more time you have in the day to do what you want," the leopard exclaimed with pride and excitement in his voice, "Do you ever ask yourself why there is so much left you want to do by the end of the day but just didn't have enough time? Well this helps you get more done. It gives you more time." The little fox tilted her head slightly to he side and looked down a bit, "I guess you are right," she said softly. Not knowing what else to say, she stood up and shook the snow off of herself then rush over to the leopard. "So what lesson will I learn today?" she asked eagerly. The leopard smiled as they started walking, "Didn't you just learn something?" he said as he raised an eyebrow. The little fox giggled softly and started pouncing around him laughing happily and saying "Well yea. But I want to learn more." The leopard laughed and looked to her, "Slow and steady wins the race little one. Slow and steady. we will find something for me to teach you, or for us to learn, as time goes on." he said softly but wisely as they kept walking into the woods, away from the sunrise.
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1
I go throughout my day longing for some sleep I look forward to seeing you again After the moon rises I eagerly get ready to sleep Because I will see you in my dreams The dream time seems at a slower pace As I go into my happy place I once again see your smiling face For a moment everything seems like it used to be Because I see you in my dreams The sun rises again I can hardly wait to see you my family and friends My love for you never ends Can see the love in my sleep filled eyes Is it wider than the sky as I meet you once again Because I meet you in my dreams I long for even just one hour more to spend with you I implore wait for me after a busy day I pray after I look at the moon That I will see you soon as I once more close my eyes No more tears sting my eyes because now is the time that I will see you in my dreams
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May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
I Will See you In My Dreams
If you are single do not stress it, mainly it's because you understand the complexity of the relationship recipe you're a child of destiny and a victim of intuition, morally gifted, respectfully lifted, GPS couldn't follow your mission, eagerly itching; but if they don't cut the standards you know how to dismiss 'em, If they're not sharp enough they have no place in your kitchen; not smart enough they don't deserve a compound sentence PERIOD
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Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
Single Sentence Paragraph
My thoughts now live in the cloud, My moments, wishes and hopes, Opinions, preferences, scopes Our loved ones live in the cloud, Their Voices are screaming out loud, “We hope you all make us proud”. Our Selves now live in the cloud. The future, present and past, A shadow we eagerly cast. The things we have renounced, So hard to claim it back There’s more than meets the eye, The Cloud is just a lie.
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May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 9:27 AM UTC
The Cloud
Twenty-first. Night. Monday. Silhouette of the capitol in darkness. Some good-for-nothing -- who knows why -- made up the tale that love exists on earth. People believe it, maybe from laziness or boredom, and live accordingly: they wait eagerly for meetings, fear parting, and when they sing, they sing about love. But the secret reveals itself to some, and on them silence settles down... I found this out by accident and now it seems I'm sick all the time.
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7.9k
Twenty-First. Night. Monday
Anxious Dull, a boy is he names he would not plea eyes like baby blue- lips a crimson hue Feelings like me and you Reclusive Outsiders he'd not choose In his mansions he bore luring himself- with enchanting lore's drifting away, loosing woes A Xenos Traveling in his hallways unknown, ominous a wretched life he portrays even in his heart, he'd say- "Loneliness, such a Cliché" Forsaken Befriended, unseen though he's not a devil -for I believe tortured, battered on thee delude by his mistress' skim He Left portals out from misery gone himself eagerly then comes back, with such -A Victory for now, a statured man is he Knights & Kings upon bended knees and everything he please from a man to a boy -in a dream A Castle, now he redeems
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Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
◦ A Boy and His Castle
It was an autumn day; a fresh aroma the air. Breathing in deeply, I was trapped in a snare. How was I loured into this dangerous trap, I just was not looking or even aware. There was a sweet sticky dew tasting like mead, This honey nectar turned my head to greed. Losing control I was going out of my mind, In a strange flower bed, I left my world behind. Now wondering in a deep psychedelic dream, I am floating eagerly down a rainbow stream. Tender fresh flesh standing bold and proud, Attracting prey with her bright coloured shroud. Giving in freely, about to be devoured. My censors telling me I was being deflowered. There were silky soft hairs all over my skin, Is a shocking end about to begin? If no one had noticed I was ensnared in this place, It may have all ended in humiliation and disgrace. Now in so deep I have lost all self control, It was as if a demon had stolen my soul. Just then a watchful serpent raised its head, Looking straight at me it hissed and said. “I can see you; you have had your fun, Now it is time to pay, or get out and run”. Shocked out of the dream, I saw my plight, What he said was true, I made my flight. Lucky to escape, my advice is here, If you see a Venus Flytrap, STAY CLEAR.
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Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 6:19 AM UTC
Venus Flytrap
Expected and wanted you waited eagerly 9 months of loving your tummy oh so tenderly Through sickness and pain you kept your cool Time passing you by for the moment of truth Then came blessed Reuben, a gift from above, your first born, your new hope to nurture and love
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Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 4:01 PM UTC
Gift
In a class, I'll sit and listen they'll explain that I have no rights as a member of the LGBTQ+ they'll say, with pride of their skin, black lives DON'T matter- all lives do. I'll sit here, OH YES, I'll sit and listen they'll talk about girls being ugly talking about how there are only two genders and I'll sit here relating women to paintings, weaving them into my poems, slightly pouting and confused with my lack of their said gender. Sighing, I will sit here and listen as they repeat the things I've heard my entire life and I'll bite my tongue, though not really a look will pass by, rage seeps through pores I'll leak liquid anger until the toxins correct their rotten brains I know I should say something, but there are tons of them and only micro-me. Weak. I'll sit here, and I will listen to them as we all eagerly await the bell Save us. we're far apart, so my mask is off now, but when it sounds, when it promises peace RING RING RING I will stand, turn, and Black Lives Matter will be almost as prominent as a tattoo on my face, the phrase will melt, it will stick, it will attach to my mouth and say scream sing the words that I cannot. and I'll keep Sydney's hoodie on as my bulletproof vest, her chain against my heart understanding that THIS IS NOT A CHOICE Why would I ever choose the pain I went through for this? only to go home, and hear more from my step-father, with the victimizing mother actings as if it never happens
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Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 4:31 PM UTC
The Usual.
The darkness inside of me waits, eagerly to get the revenge that i seek, to cure the emptiness you left inside of me, to better the spirit you abused, to make my life worth living once again, to **** off the evils that you have done, Patiently waiting for you to come to your senses, then crush you and knock you down, i will make you see who you are, you will know how sick you become, you will lead your life as a failure, i cannot find any words that describe you and your actions, i am angry, hurt, upset, i will seek my revenge, you will be destroyed, just like you destroyed me.
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Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:43 PM UTC
Revenge
When you absentmindedly laugh at me with such warmth It is then that I see your heart When you eagerly assume you'll read my most intimate words it is then that I feel the truth When you matter-of-factly believe I'm amazing it is then I realize I've always loved you
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Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
As Yet Unsaid
I ate hot meals, I brushed my teeth day and night, I spent long hours on the mobile with friends, I wore well laundered clothings, Not a single crease or a stain on them, Before motherhood. My home was ***** and span, No stumbling on scattered toys, No ***** window panes, No tiny hands holding my skirts, No one  eagerly waiting for me on the doorsteps, No spits,pukes, pees or poos to clean, No teared  eyes to wipe, No tiny bundle to hold in my arms, Getting love,warmth and satisfaction in return, Before motherhood. I was in control of myself, Of my mind and thoughts, Caretaker of my own body, Spending hours to enhance my beauty, To maintain grace and elegance, Before motherhood. Now I am a mum, I don't mind if my hair is disheveled, My house is a bit messy, I am exhausted, For the reward of a hug, a kiss and those endearing words,"I love you mum,you are the bestest." completes me.
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Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
Before Motherhood