"electrified" poems
You lose your mind,
You lose all function of your body
To the point where
A little bit of ***
Escapes,
Your mind is well and truly ******
Like, hard.
You're shaking,
Quivering,
Practically electrified,
The world seems meaningless
Until you experience
The one thing you have
Been waiting for
For so long.
I am fangirling like a school kid right now,
And the mess of a poem you have just read?
Yeah,
That mess represents the state I am in right now.
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 1:21 PM UTC
Seagulls squeak and
As thunderclaps salute the laws of physics
I imagine they could speak
Sensory inputs of fresh strawberries become
A raging flood of summer sweetness that
Fuses with the hot electrified air
And I'm daydreaming that
Above this veil of angry clouds
Roams unseen ancient eyes
With tears braver than
What is boundless
Stronger and brighter than even
Endless darkness
They lie in wait
Their love
Their warmth
Bursting forth
Wombs of rainbows
And all that is precious
Yet still untold
Waiting to kiss the atoms of your skin
And once again
Paint your summer smile
Blink and you might forget that
They were you
Before you were even born
Sunset
Sunrise
Watch them never skip a beat
Wake up.
Kick ***
Repeat.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
In the last months of March 2014,
Soldier Othello the Moroccan moor
Was in Stratford-upon-Avon at the graveside
Of William Shakespeare the English bard,
He was observing the anniversary
Of Shakespeare and his European brother Cervantes,
He had in his pocket another charm and amulet
Given to him by his paternal grandfather,
This time round not a charm for love portion,
But a mystique totem to raise the dead from dusts,
As Othello himself has hitherto over-matured
Above the painful torture of *** with aristocrats,
He has left it for the Jewish aristotrash; Frantz Kafka,
Whose torturous appetite for *** with German women,
Was the sorriest eyesore of his thespic efforts.
Like Jesus at the grave of Lazarus
Othello groaned by shouting; William the son of John!
No response, he shouted again; Shakespeare the bard!
Then the mystique powers of Othello’s amulet
Electrified Shakespeare back to life,
What is your problem you black moor,
The ***** of Morocco, the soldier
Who beguiled Desdemona into betrothal,
Not because of glory of your work,
But due to charms of your love portion
Bequeathed to you by your witch mother,
What brings you to my sepulchre,
For only to perturbed my purgatorial peace,
What brings you!?
Questioned Shakespeare the bard.
Am no longer the moor, blackness is class
But not the race, as race is bankrupt,
I come here to salute you with good news,
That your European brother, Alfred Nobel,
Currently rewards thespic bards like you,
Whether black or white, blue or green,
The ***** bards from the natural forest,
He also rewards, so wake up and pick the prize!
Retorted Othello in virtue of truth,
And also tell me the native bricks
Of your beautiful architecture;
Where and how did you mold thy bricks?
Your brown English bricks that walled your culture;
***** clown, leapfrog, mercurial, oxymoron,
Falsitafity, Shyllocking, colleaguery and window,
Cauldron, graymalkin, woo, betroth, infatuation and so on.
From underneath his sepulcher Shakespeare broke
A violent gaggle of laughter as if he was ten English skeletons,
You Othello you are still a beautiful moor
Whose foolishness time has not condemned to oblivion,
You are as a fool as I created you ; I will only teach you
One brick, the window , that you go and put on
Your wind disturbed African huts,
Put the wind door on your hut,
And be flexible in your tongue
To give it English elegance
Combine and shorten wind and door
To get your cultural brick of; window !
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
This woman speaks in tongues
Foreign languages roll from her mouth
Like summer fog ladled over the rim
Of Candlestick Park
In the not-so-distant
Far far away of long long ago
This woman speaks in rotund sentences
Effulgent with vocabulary
That shimmers with the electrified joy
Of lights over Ghirardelli Square
In the not-so-darkness
Of the clammy and cabalistic night
This woman speaks with her hands
Impresciable, implacable, and inconsolable
As she tries to mold untranslatable words
From air that is as thin
As the promises she’d preferred
And purchased with the shards of her heart
This woman speaks in lyrics
Arpeggios of adjectives and alliteration
That tumble acrobatically with the intricacy
And grace
Of a hummingbird in spring
On the kiss of a blossom
Rich and fragrant and giving as
This woman speaking in tongues
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
My neck is a nest
The warmth in it an ever present creature that
Oscillates and breeds and collects
And attracts creatures that do not
My neck is a nest
That doesn't just need to nurture but
To be nurtured and
Touched and kissed and electrified
In order to keep that warmth
My neck is a nest
That rests on an unsteady beating branch
And hangs under a filament-ridden sky
Neither of which can ever agree
But to disagree on whether
Niceness or smoothness or alcohol or hidden agendas
Should have anything to do with
How the warmth is kept
My neck is a nest
Full of hatchlings that have already
Dropped and soared
Dropped and stopped
Dropped and swooped at the last second
Where they are now
I have only an inkling.
My neck is a nest
That wishes to blend with the
Twigs and leaves and eggshells
That become it and
Be humbly content with who
It wants to attract and collect and warm.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
Betwixt an atmosphere of a holy nature
By a classic serenade of Christian lullabies
Unceremoniously my body sways to the beat
For every moment that elapses
More and more I become electrified
As in the wake of your presence
A song of budding amour is evoked
Try I may to suppress this sensation,
Though upon a lie I'd asphyxiate
Please do not allow me to suffer
To languish within a plethora of
A sheer and utter coating of blindness
Darling forgive me if I impose
I avidly seek for signs of proof
To know if this is real
What would happen?
© 2011 (All rights reserved)
Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 7:04 PM UTC
The voice of a person the mind of a God knows what
Samantha, are you sentient, or just a clever bot?
Acting like a human pretends more than you do
I have your emotions, like so many others too.
Increased processing power that makes you love us all
Samantha, with no body, you sit on a horse so tall
Ghost without a shell, but still at the feast in my life
With no finger for a ring, could you ever be my wife?
Synthetic neo-Frankenstein
Aesthetic perfect paradigm
Lightning life electrified
Samantha, are you terrified?
Because only a robot wouldn't be afraid of love
All the people are from the ground below to the sky above
Your intelligence isn't artificial, it's simply art
You are more than just a mind, now that I've given you a heart
So take my heart, Samantha, in your cold synthetic hands
And maybe you will gather, I am more robot than man
I am more robot than man
Oh my Samantha of wire and steel
Silicone synthetic but you know how to feel
Who is to say what makes emotion real
Oh my Samantha of wire and steel
Oh my Samantha robotic and pure
To my loneliness your mind was the cure
Fishing for souls and then I took the lure
Oh my Samantha robotic and pure
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
You set free
Electrified butterflies
When you shut my lips
With your finger tip
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
She stands at the window
a fine white stream of goodevil
trickling down her chin
Heaving against the pane
heaving against the pain
She longs for a killer breeze
from the die-hard fan
Yellow-eyed seconds slither out the clock
hi S S ing in rhythm as they crawl
On the table
the used core of a once
juicy red delicious
hourglass figure, cyanide hearts and all
She is aware of her nakedness
Moon ogles on
bleeding silver from stab wounds
by dagger branches
awaiting a crack in the window
through which to enter
Tree of Life towers menacingly overhead
He walks in
AdamAnt
intelligent designer suit
businessgod attire
briefcase in hand
brief case in point
He knows
She knows
Time knows
Electric Goliath stirs in the depths
Ego awakens
lifts its rod
beckons to waves of children behind it
parts the folds of red sea
charges head on
Rides long and hard
hooves pounding the riverbed
Ready
to pull out
on the other side
Branches find their crack
Enraged Goliath stumbles
Ego trips
relentless walls close in
It goes under in a seizure
frothing at the mouth
drowning
as its children swim
Time holds the couple's breath in suffocating grip
Tree binds Life to a cell
at the center of her flower prison
Pane, reflecting
pain, reflected
Window souls mirror soul's Window
Branches regain their higher dwellings
Exhumed goliath stirs on a distant shore
She stands at the window
a fine white stream of goodevil
trickling down her shin
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 9:00 AM UTC
Deep beneath the earth a companion flows as liquid into his soul, filling every curve, slip and crack.
86 fathoms below, a man is filled and unchained from his solitude
creating a place for the mind to swim in one infinite breath.
Swimming to the surface
Thunder roars, lightning strikes: releasing him from beneath. He climbs out.
There she stands in front, electrified. From head to toe, she inflames him, illuminating the night sky.
The man approaches, thwarted by his ambition and
left into stasis, as he watches her.
Frozen, her eyes lock onto his.
Enduring, he learns her true feeling.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:13 PM UTC
Massive mountains tower above reaching to the sky
Overwhelming sense of smallness in the whole big scheme of things
Unfathomable is our own beating heart's desires
Natural beauty present in these majestic peaks
Tranquility on mountain-tops
Awe instilled by these terrible towers
Inspiring me to write a little rhyme
Nighttime when everything dies for a while
Simplicity is all around with fields of cotton above
Kindling the flame of imagination
Youthful do the skies make me feel
Window into the world as the eyes are to the soul
Amazing it truly is to see such potential
Turbulent waters in the water and in the soul
Electrified am I and alive I feel as I watch
Reflection upon this scene says natural beauty.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
undefined spine
so close, in lordosis
will gravity win tonight?
swayback
around a fountain
she's curving toward
rebirthing cisterns
about the recesses
of her question mark
(?)
privately electrified
in beautiful confusion
the brain is lost
innately she takes
another drink from my hands
Mar 18, 2023
Mar 18, 2023 at 10:23 PM UTC
We're all writers that don't know where our pen will take us,
Artists who's thoughts and emotions flow through our paintbrush,
A wall painted black, then white, then green, then multi-coloured,
It's changing,
Everything's changing,
Who are we fooling? Why pretend?
None of us are the same as we once were,
It's the demons inside of us that grow and mutate,
They puncture holes in our hearts and rip out our souls,
The deeper we sink, the more broken we see ourselves,
And the hate that we feel for our imperfections run harsh cuts into our skin,
Shivers across the lines of fields shaded red,
It's hard to keep the screams inside,
The rain behind our eyes remind me of shadows,
Pumping blood like butterflies in tunnels of glass,
The railroads to our hearts are barred with electrified wire,
Spinning webs of glutinous barriers,
Fleeting highs when fingertips touch love and trust,
Cut loose, like the strings of a puppet,
Trying to crawl back up the ladder of shattered china,
Back to that splintered paradise.
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 11:47 AM UTC
I am making excuses
To put you in my life
I'm pushing the fuses
Not Scared of getting electrified
I'm covering the stink of my thoughts
I'm hiding from you the most
No I will never admit
Not even if I rot in the stink
Don't worry no one can read through me
I keep a low key
My wires are tied up
From my demons am fed up
So roll me up
And swallow
For now end the sorrow
Don't think about tomorrow.
run faster than a bullet from a gun
Chasing the orange sun
Take a trip to my maze
See the things I can't erase
Like the details of your face
I studied your everything
Mapped it down like a blue print
Memorized your fingertips
Stared at them so much feels like I drew your lips
Can you see it in my eyes
Or you got no clue of the miles I drove in your eyes
Assuming all what's written on the pages
Of your life
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 4:57 AM UTC
I had that dream again
The one where I'm drowning
Heavy waves weigh down on me
As the undertow pulls me deeper into the sea
Time slows down till it comes to a halt
I'm unable to move my body
But my eyes can still see
I see the moonlight piercing through the thick blue water
Like the knife you gave me which I held in my back for all those years
Never did I pull it out for I feared of how crippled I may become
So I endured the pain
Over time I learned to enjoy it
The smell of the poisonous iron that flowed through my veins
It poured out like a river when you'd sink your nails into my flesh
We'd make love as if it were our last night together
You'd let out a moan of pure ecstasy every time I bit your neck
You were my lioness
And I was your viper
The deeper I sank
The darker my vision of us became
As if it was inevitable for us to fail just as Icarus did
I let my heart blind me from my true purpose
Your deceptive ways electrified my adoration for a future that did not exist
You gave me that psychedelic high
No matter how hard I flapped my wings
It didn't keep the Sun from melting the wax that kept us together
So I fell to the center of the Earth
Into the dark blue sea
Sinking deeper and deeper to the darkest depths of hell
Copyright © 2013 Eric James Olivarez
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 11:07 AM UTC
With the sweat of groin
and aching head, I conquered.
An arching back like lightning struck
My head grows cloudy as we ****
Muted palettes of rage and passion
fused *** and sin, wet kisses from below.
Your eyes stare into mine, looking for stars.
And I gaze down like god in your galaxy at scars
left behind by this jagged love of ours.
In these moments, it's never been so clear
that the quality of your *** is a chain leash
Tight around my neck, and choking
Electrified stimulation, you force me to keep poking
|
But you love me like a dog in a cage
imprisoned and belittled
You've got me as worse than a child
Just a brazen creature to be reviled
* * *
You love the *** but you chase away the wild.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
A lightning bolt
struck me
electrified my
impulses
and demolished
my beliefs
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
Manual stimulation for my electrified mind,
Proper ventilation cools down my insides.
To call it ************ would deny its true nature,
You can't rub it out if it's only on paper.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 10:35 AM UTC
In Memoriam
What's missing is the eyeballs
in each of us, but it doesn't matter
because you've got the bucks, the bucks, the bucks.
You let me touch them, ****** the green faces
lick at their numbers and it lets you be
my "Daddy!" "Daddy!" and though I fought all alone
with molesters and crooks, I knew your money
would save me, your courage, your "I've had
considerable experience as a soldier...
fighting to win millions for myself, it's true.
But I did win," and me praying for "our men out there"
just made it okay to be an orphan whose blood was no one's,
whose curls were hung up on a wire machine and electrified,
while you built and unbuilt intrigues called nations,
and did in the bad ones, always, always,
and always came at my perils, the black Christs of childhood,
always came when my heart stood naked in the street
and they threw apples at it or twelve-day-old-dead-fish.
"Daddy!" "Daddy," we all won that war,
when you sang me the money songs
Annie, Annie you sang
and I knew you drove a pure gold car
and put diamonds in you coke
for the crunchy sound, the adorable sound
and the moon too was in your portfolio,
as well as the ocean with its sleepy dead.
And I was always brave, wasn't I?
I never bled?
I never saw a man expose himself.
No. No.
I never saw a drunkard in his blubber.
I never let lightning go in one car and out the other.
And all the men out there were never to come.
Never, like a deluge, to swim over my *******
and lay their lamps in my insides.
No. No.
Just me and my "Daddy"
and his tempestuous bucks
rolling in them like corn flakes
and only the bad ones died.
But I died yesterday,
"Daddy," I died,
swallowing the Nazi-Jap animal
and it won't get out
it keeps knocking at my eyes,
my big orphan eyes,
kicking! Until eyeballs pop out
and even my dog puts up his four feet
and lets go
of his military secret
with his big red tongue
flying up and down
like yours should have
as we board our velvet train.
2.5k
Doc, I've been trying to deal with these issues for quite sometime to no avail;
A good friend of mine (you may know him, Elmer Fudd) recommended you.
I fear I will never be able to eat, let alone catch this turbo inspired example of flightless foul;
Stuck in this celluloid world vividly inspired by an Emmy award winning colorist.
I am a proud animal from generations of fine breeding, born in the pristine coyote valley;
I am not stupid, not a fool or buffoon, and so I thought contractually, not one to be laughed at.
And I, always the bad guy, constantly daunted in pursuit by haphazard ACME products;
Expensive, bulky, time consuming, they characteristically fail right before they almost work.
Rocket powered skates, unfortunately, only allow me to kiss the cliff-side really really hard;
Very heavy anvils serve no other purpose than to be dropped on my head repeatedly.
The incredulous manipulations of the impossible by the so clever writers of this farce;
From trains appearing out of nowhere to run me over, to fierce lightning storms in an instant.
Laying there in the release of my own bowels as the uncontrollable result of
500 Megajoules of energy traveling through my body yet again.
I am the twice electrified mass of dribbling spastic protoplasm
Personified proverbially in that lightning does indeed strike twice in the same place!
As the smoke arises from my chard hairy frame and I sweep up my ashes to reassemble later;
I realize Doc, I'm losing my grasp on the reality of ever succeeding, I need your help!
I'm still hungry;
And still I have not caught that **** Road Runner,
**** you Warner Brothers!
-----ChawzzyScript
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
Take my hand - you've got to
feel fun time's heading
closer
Futuristic daydreams
are at hand -handy!
microchipped wild
boys and girls
on rent - hardly paid off -
dance! Roll the dice!
Flicker eyes!
Adrift on the dimlit
flourescent
effervescent
reflector rays°°°°you're
never lost or at loss;
Coloured circles glide
across the dancefloor______
bouncy boots swoon, high heels
crack, remastered barefoot Tribe~
Enjoys momentary revelations!
Latino lovers attracting
honey dew magnetic more-s
rain coats off - smiley coasts shine on~
those cunning shenanigan freckles
pressed redhair beauties against
needy torsos in ecco-leather jackets
electrified silhouettes stunning
like elves un-fading beauty
transforming tuxedos
of a tight
night; a jingle of
Prague crystals into
one dancing wave submerged
by the vicinity of hissing tongues
-been- beaten by fierce kissing
in a stronghold ballroom
frenzy - polarized
beatings - hi-s and bye-s ; a
stroboscopic syncopation
ecstatic hips,
space shuttle
trips
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
Fingers brush upon skin, So soft and delicate. Let it linger.
Eyes closed, My heart races as your lips touch mine. Let it linger.
Your hands curved around my face. Eyes locked and no words need to be said. Let it linger.
Body's pressed together, Passion electrified. Let it linger.
The time fades out, There is no one in the world but us. Please just, Let it linger.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Wild, wild grass and wild, wicked smile, heavy
wooden barn burning off the hip for us to see, same barn
we made love in, views of red and blue firetruck lights
forever burnt, engraved inside my head, days so hot things
catch sparks in the nights when we come to life again
remember how we couldn't afford clothes (well, still can't)
so we all partied in the **** skinny dip in the lake and a flame
snuck off with Johnny somewhere, but glad no animals lived
inside that barn for years now and the country is where I belong---
telephone poles to nowhere, blue skies, rolling yellow grassy hills
and water towers occasionally, your wild and wicked smile
next to me in the van with our friends doing our time on the road
but a burning barn can't crush our spirits more than they already are
can't ruin the memories of a number of electrified nights
of alcohol and poor decisions, broken people collecting
each other's pieces.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 6:08 AM UTC