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Anderson M Jan 2014
She got star dust sprinkled evenly
Within the shorelines of her ravishing eyes
And stardust, pristine naïve look benignly
Creasing her soft supple aristocratic face no need to accessorize
Her posture upright and poised
Elegance, charm and grace effortlessly effused
By her, emotional hazards posed
By a presence so spell-binding, one will be amused
At the hypnotic effect experienced by
All and sundry
Though she turns a blind eye
A scathingly sultry
look suddenly evident on her sweet face turned sour
She undoubtedly is a toxic flower.
Ever been at a cool chill spot
then an angel of a lady passed by
and you'd forget your 'wares'
and steal a myriad stares
Meagan Moore Jan 2014
I saw hostile clearly
She was an ambling pear
She turned, and amber melt effused my person
I - her saccharine tome
turning pages in my minds eye
I heard her
dog-earring the notion I should remember most
And I felt mealy, and bruised.
Path Humble Jun 2014
****, here I am again

suffused by incoming sunlight floods,
blonde tresses decorative,
and a
refrigerator light dim surprising,
******* a future fest,
when in search of ordinary milk and coffee

cherries, grapes, watermelon,
cole slaw, caramelized walnuts,
Spanish Marcona almonds,
chicken defrosting, and wine,
a pink rose,
blushing like me,
at the amplitude of love and blessings
I have uncovered,
and that covers me,
while she sleeps,
I sip first coffee and
her love

and more than suffused,
I am effused,
unable to contain all this,
what I am feeling,
like my water broken,
pouring tears
and I wonder who is

this idiot

that forgets to say
thank you
for what he
has been given,
and who in return
can merely offer up
a pauvre writ,
a love poem,
of salt and sweet
2014
Anderson M Oct 2013
A river flowing against its course
As if to floss
Its rare peculiar uncanny ingenuity
A notable case study of ambiguity.

An estranged lover unceremoniously
Literally butchering his offspring mercilessly
In cold blood
For having been dragged through the mud.

The undercurrents of change overriding
Entrenched seemingly myopic tendencies which aren’t binding
Causing irrevocably reversible state of affairs
Care not to be caught in the crosshairs.

A hopelessly optimistic romantic
Head over heel in love with the mystique
Aura of eccentricity effortlessly effused by
Her, she indeed worth a try.

Myriad circumstantial conundrums
That is cause of the inevitable humdrum
So characteristic of life
Answers a trifle few and the lackluster enthusiasm rife.
Frantically chasing the wind
hoping against hope to catch it some day
will that day ever come
so that my chase is ended
and peace finally finds eternal abode in my heart.
Robert Watson Jul 2021
A monolithic sculpture stands upon a hill.
Ornate work of marble marks the artisan’s skill.
Clad as a knight of yore, with stony gaze held high.
Pilgrims travel from miles around to fall under his eye.

Epitome of courage, virtue, and respect
effused upon the villagers traits they should reflect.
Elements gnawed at the stone but failed to corrode
the manifold of lofty aims the knight would bestow.

Dark years beset the kingdom causing disarray-
Tyranny, vanity, and deceit led the people all astray.
Artisan's work above, a shining icon of probity.
A resolute bastion against the world’s impulsivity.

A day will come when the people reach distress;
crying out, they beseech the artisan’s redress,
but long has the craftsman been journeying far away
humbly allowing his handiwork, the message he conveys.
"Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer." - (Samwise) Peter Jackson.
LJ Jun 2016
You played my heart
When I didn't know
That you were a coward
An award of aloofness
One that you wore along
That robe you hang on to

You played my heart
When I gave my all
My sincerity and core
A naive genuineness
One that I wear on my soul
The one you rolled downhill

You played my heart
When emotions strangled
My struggles to balance
As I closed off from love
The chorus of bluntness
The song you taught me

You played my heart
When you needed a muse
A bold and beautiful image
To ****** your taxed brain
A goal to hear me fall hard
As I lost guard of my life and all

You played my heart
When I felt I was going crazy
Effused with pain and cold
Strained and stressed
Lost in a jungle of the lonely
Gifted with battles and concepts

You played my heart
Then made me learn hard
That I was stronger than I was
That I was unique and visioned
That I was a capable phenomena
Able to pass on the pressed alleyway
Nat Lipstadt Dec 2014
Our Verse into Psalm

"who massages our words
into a masterpiece,
our verse into psalm..."

sourced from a dialogue one year ago: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/548741/the-contriving-is-all-that-remains/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
humbling words,
just now discovered,
a reflection invitation,
commenced and ended,
an essay of simple facts

two topics theme,
revealing a man's evolution

a confession oft repeated,
he writes too much, (used to)
a readily apparent truth

but when the self-soul-peering
hits bottom,
forced to reflect
back and up, and around,
acknowledging self is a four letter word,
a poking from reviewing
a year ago gone prior scribbled response,
leads to a conclusion
to answer his puzzlement

easy acknowledges
he has prior peaked,
certified and certifiable,
his best words gone by,
bye and bye,
so how now antiquated,
this tiresome task
of endless interior internal examination,
once more
he asks of himself
the Psalmist's question (121:1)


"I lift my eyes up to the mountains:
From whence shall my help come?


from you,
y'all

my poems are now and will be
just stories told,
stories of you

of a lost wedding ring,
of a young woman's striving
to answer her most essential question,
reflections on being four years old,
on Eastern Seaboard geography
Thanksgiving Day air turbulence,
a young woman's sobriety celebrated,
her poetry, richer and health effused,
of lovers who cannot ever be,
of jobs lost and freedom gained,
physical pain that knows only
the optics of poetic relief to salve,
aching and unrequited awed and flawed love
that has no remedy defusing,
older schemers, puppy love rediscoverers,
of special young men
who see by their nature,
far better into
nature's window that answers the human soul,
children foreign born, here & passed,
whom I have never met, but,
who are poems
dearest in my breast,
as if, no,
as they are mine own...

and on and on

could travel and travail,
but the clickety clock says
bread to be earned,
wistfulness hour over,
all that's need is a conclusive,
one octave,
a summarizing single note,
a lady last rinsing of the soul

your stories are my psalms,
your heartache and triumphs
my masterpieces,
thy foibles are my filament,
your stories, my revelations

turned my eyes to the mountains,
seeing only my own mountains,
that engulf and surround,
hearing a single,
simple voice answering,
it is their mountains
that deserve written attention,
and therein and thereby
can you write humbly
and walk upright
^
^Psalm 37:37
Feel Oct 2015
My muse diffused
A love abused
The news infused
My dream refused.

Your life deduced
My life reduced
Our lives seduced
In the end confused.

Words effused
Our lines reused
My passion disused
Together, bemused.

Our game overused
Our emotions excused
Our love perused
But really misused.
a moment
a thrill
a flutter
it was you
inside me
revelation of
unknown love
unmatched and unconditional
I was afraid
ailing and exhausted
a shake
and I felt empty
without your weight on top of me
it was you
teared off from me
from your protected limbo
you
tiny and perfect
your scent
the first kiss
your hand close to mine
utmost and eternal union
an ancestral need
satisfied
your smiles
your first unsteady steps
the word mom
entrusted to the wind
a light  arrow
which pierced my soul
the first of the precious gifts
you give me every day
staring at you
discover shades of  life
being reborn
through your eyes
feeling the sensation
walking barefoot
on the fresh sand in the dawn
the pain
of suffering
the inadequacy
the insecurity
you fell
and you always
raised
the stubbornness
in your eyes
vigor
that marks you
a wild, pure and sensitive heart
proud
also of your weakness
and your mistakes
a great love
effused around you
to the people you love
simply
and shameless
you are a warrior
never stop fighting
listen to your heart
follow your dreams
willpower is the answer
you can get
on the highest peaks
the world is your
you just have to believe and to want
you were little and helpless
you are a man
imperious and fearless
I will observe and follow you
from my corner behind you
willing to let you fall
with a heavy heart
with an outstretched hand
ready to lift up you again
if you will want it
and always
my arms open
unavoidably
ready to welcome you
and give you
all my love
happy birthday honey.. I 'll always love you .... you are all my life ....
in a dead street
a cat owl bleeds
its mind effused
with images
of music
and the songs
that would alter
pocket thought
it  hears the echo
of a buckled sculptor
a blue and chromed car
that loots its understanding
leaves it warped
while autonomous ideas
flow in prophetic vision
as it moves between
life and death
a volitional freedom
PK Wakefield Jan 2012
from the delightful pinch of your waist
is effused the mauling senility of your
forgetting smell
(which like cudgels' dozing blows
wreak the apt obliteration
of my normally conscience
                )
and i'm a can'thelpit
but kiss dubiously
pressing down
the quake of
your
ecstatically
expecting stomach
(at when  reaches
the ultimate cusp
of your brimming
ecstasy pulpit
my deft oral precisely
                                      )
Sally Dec 2015
She was laving her insides with gin the night I met her.
She told me she had bullets embedded in her skin which sounded insane, but I still swore I could see them.

That night she only effused about ***
and gin
and her eyes were blue
and I wanted to drown,
to dwell in the sea beneath her eyelids.

She was untruthful.
She said she would be candid with my foreign face,
but all of my words drew tears from the sea I loved to laud.

We were very tired.
I swear she must have cleaned her wounds with ***** a thousand times that night before I could tend to them myself.
I know she was very tired.

Her eyes still blue, still stormy, made my throat close up.
I wanted to be more copious with my words.
To tell her that I wanted to be her gin
her ****
her everything in between,
but I couldn’t,
for she was the beauty I couldn’t grasp with my words but with my heart,
a heart that wouldn’t rightly align with hers.
PK Wakefield Oct 2012
the said girl most pain from deliberate comely lips
and there was almostsummer light minutely sprawled
in precisely slats of dark then undark (a how many
i can't recall, but) in just under wear(covers) she
two legs skinnyawkward eyes than greener forests
effused some small wetness

                                                         some little fragile
                                                         some frail shining
                                                         (and my coat scratched
                                                          my neck
                                                          was wool
                                                          and                                  )

                                                          whipped at my thigh
                                                          through suddenly door
                                                          swung shut escaping
                                                          almost its white vice
Vishal Gupta Dec 2017
To John...

Effused from an imagination.
Amorphic, vast as cosmos.
Invisible. not only for my heart.
You were around. always. everywhere.

Creation of a tender mind
a 10 or 12 years old innocent.
Living in solitude. unknown to its meaning.
also distant from the people around.

Trying to look for a friend
When everything was fading soon.
He himself added colours to it.
Painted you on his canvas.

From games to secrets unspoken.
From talking to shouting loud.
From fighting to re uniting.
Hadn't he found a perfect friend in you ?

You had cleared the crimson sky above.
Took all his blues away
mixed his blues. to the endless skies.
No wonder why sky became so bright then.

You were the beautiful bud.
that bloomed in autumn
to blossom round the year then.
and to add fragrance. to his life.

Hadn't you dissolved his wounds ?
Sipped it, gulped it. made it disappear.

Do you still remember days of yore ?
Or you've let them fade away ?
Though he hadn't let you fade away yet.
He's just stuck into things while growing up.

When at nights, he gazed the moon
remember how he used to take you
with him. for he was afraid of dark.
(Though he's still afraid of dark. one inside him)

And you remember how he
Often made you fool.
Saying that he knows language of moon.
And can make you learn the same.

He used to rant too much then.
And imagines you're listening to him.
It was so satisfying then.
Neither you complained nor he bothered about it.

You know, the diary he used to write.
In which he had written all the letters to you.
He threw it somewhere. In the river he still visit.
It's the only regret, which is holding him.

It's all written just to tell.
You still reside in his memories.
When everything else around turned rare
He bring out time to cherish moment. He care.

It's just a time game dear. don't worry.
Don't you feel He still miss you ? He do.

  
              From your only friend..
            (Sending you some memories wrapped up in love)
If you've read it till here, patiently. I want to let you know that the 'He' that has been used in the above poem is me(vishal) and the 'you' has been used for John(he use to be my imaginary friend. He still exist).
Well, this information must be sufficient for the readers :')
Instinct (and the candor it took)
Kiss me when the intentions are ripe
Longevity is a toothsome notion, as if a guiding music
Has the voice to carry, a welfare from here to sun's light

The seen sought, a voice with more than a lip
Of a marvel meant, and deemed a friend?
To the fate we stir, with all of a hosts extravagance, a wit
Of summary heed, to a lived example, praying to be lent

Caught in a hushed tone, the truth...?
Is for any who would listen, a stone of charisma...?
Caring but for the our of decision, we have let a youth
Become the notoriety of since, and a charity of weal to say:

I grow a fruit, with kindness in mind
Tense and awkward, a hope of sincerity's homage to choose
Between a holier water that laud has to rhyme
Or an earthen seclusion of devotions, if may is to be few

Blow and service to an ideal, a harrowed simplicity to vaunt
The gifts of are, a might the fate of all who came
Or is a wealth its own reward, the other opinion in a song?
With babbling lips, and an echo of hearts, the irony of same...

A course of decision, in the name of solidarity
Sent to effused, if not enthusiasm of coping with worth
As a herald of powers and judged same, as the doting charity
We made the privilege, of a prowess in cares, that is many certain

Heed a friend when they are somber, and justice will come
See a friends need becomes the letter of sigh's, and decency is a gift
Keep a friends shadow in reach, and they will know more than home
Heathen a friends smile, here and now a shared eye will lift

Totals of serendipity?
And the quasi focus, of life on knowledge
With a realm to its unction, the reality of another candid liberty
Has become us, the timid and guaranteed forth, of persuasion come of kinds tenuous age
Onyx Jan 2021
Fiery sparks blossom into magnificent blooms in the night sky as the New Year’s first hour dawns on the restless night crawlers, the colors that gave way to the booms of crackling noise reminiscent of the tumultuous beat of each heart.

Far from the mayhem, far from the cluster gathered to catch the joy effused in the air

Betraying the incessant gloom we were made to call our own yet bade it farewell with a sanguine heart hoping to enter and live the new days to come with the semblance of normalcy taken for granted but now long sought for.

Uncertain and bleak however it may have been, disparage and misery barely hidden by masks, one of the few many fortunate found something most unexpected in such times of strife.

Love.

A rose bud of the past now bloomed wondrously, the luscious depth of color in the darkest of red faithfully flaunts the trueness of its existence. One might wonder at the stubbornness of this bud despite being rejected or abused had persisted against the odds and blooms vibrantly. Be it winter or summer, it held onto itself truer as ever. Much like a heroic bloom had this Love come to fruition, and yet so far from being seized entirely.

Oceans apart, yet never a day passed to make the heart throb any less for the other. Hopeful for that day when touch may eliminate any need for words, conveying the warmth and desperation a longing heart suffers from indefinitely. Hopeful to walk hand in hand through the newness to come.

Here is a toast to the new year to enfold in the favour of love and fortune, here is a toast for the ones who have lost much to unite with a newness to fill that emptiness. Here is a toast to all the survivors of an uncertain time... A Happy New Year to You.

— The End —