"elevating" poems
"INTROVERT GIRL" [Part 1]
That introvert girl who loves solitude,
Simple girl that have a nice attitude.
A genuine person with a gratitude,
Just like an angel, elevating on altitude
She's one of the girls in high school
Different from those fool
At first glance she's cool
But she's stronger than a bull.
That introvert girl full of mystery
It's hard to understand her story
A riddle always brings misery
Need to answer to leads you on victory
It's hard to know an introvert person
She's always on her comfort zone
Its easier for her to talk on phone
That introvert girl love's to be alone.
INTROVERT GIRL [Part 2]
That introvert girl
who likes to be alone
You might think shes cold
But shes a nice person
Shes so Beautiful
Like a morning light
Shes so kind
Like a silent night
She's not telling a joke
But she makes me laugh
She's not my ideal type
But she makes me fall in love.
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 10:31 AM UTC
BY Arcassin Burnham
when they came tumbling,
in my mind very troubling,
lungs and feeling of dumping,
but i'm so done with everything,
eyes changing , and my age elevating,
red skies , i cant see the radiating,
of the walls.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
Games between Earth and another space world
But it’s Level 2 through 5 in swirl
Various games testing your ability to win
‘It’s all levels calling the stops at the very end
The wrong Earth message sent to unknown space
It’s the Earth from the outer world of space who wants to erase
It’s the video games of commerce and the Earth responding in defense
Strategy with a theory of game perfection
Knowledge with the power in how one will win
It’s was all the past thinking comprising from then
Level’s up and talent of one’s hands
Video movement and watching with keen control commands
Making elevating scores being a caravan
Earth being on an objective move
The other world with wizardry in fool on the top of being cruel
Professional video game players becoming their own challenge in saving the world
The outer world being defeated and their resources depleted
A delete on the outer world terms
Think positive in knowing you have achieved and the welcomed honor to proceed
Video games being one’s pure success, but those who can conquer are the masters who are the best.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
Illustrative disregard is creating
Nervousness which controls my limbs
Fragmentary is the heart
Infected by a broken promise
Disrespect stings me
Elevating my pain
Loyalty has been compromised
Intrusion has enraged me
Trust slips into abandonment
Yielding to uncertainty
© Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 9:37 AM UTC
Who knew that getting a Starbucks gift card would turn out so harmful and mean.
When pleasant, harmless, innocent me fell for the spell of treacherous caffeine.
Like a hype with a spike
doing harm to his arm
I was hooked.
Leaped before I looked,
goose was cooked.
Now I'm here to play the blame game.
Innocent me, walking in free, joyfully,
just getting a coffee.
Then wham!
or should I say bam!
It hit me.
I walked out a quivering, craving, slobbering creature...
maybe not literally but like I said it was done treacherously, maliciously, instantaneously, I was a caffeine *****
So here are some of the reasons why I'm unhappy with Starbucks:
--- Starbucks caffeine influenced my body by elevating my heart rate (I'm not sure why I expected anything different).
--- Starbucks crafty, subtley and slyly habitualized me ( Oh god, I'm a creature of habit!)
--- Starbucks (If possible) is too friendly
--- Starbucks manipulated my accommodating nature (I just wanted to be friends, but now they feel more like, dare I say it... family).
--- Starbucks slandered me ( by assuming I'm lazy. "Sit, relax, make yourself at home, stay as long as you like").
--- Starbucks exposed my weaknesses ( l feel naked to coffees influence).
--- Starbucks made coffee hip and cool (I'm going to go ahead and count that as a bad thing).
--- Starbucks crippled my will power (my will power walks with a limp now).
--- Starbucks blew up the sun!
--- And the final reason I'm unhappy with Starbucks...because they're probably going to sue my *** for writing this!
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 4:44 PM UTC
.*i guess a loss of subscriptions is, somehow, a badge of honor, namely? i somehow managed to attach a screwdriver to my words... why? read below... English women consider motherhood to be a job... how ******* demeaning! gone are the days of womanhood attaining the stature of god, in the Christian methodology of encompassing the pivot of lady Madonna... perhaps a too high peddle-stool? i guess so... i'm not usurping the female status, but elevating a female stature, deeming motherhood an UNESCO status? seems it's too much... for some people... who make it necessary to befriend their shadow, and travel to the hinterlands.*
just your atypical pedantry,
a translator's subscript comment -
who's richard rojcewicz's...
regarding what?
heidegger...
das volk,
and the three derivatives -
volkhaft (populist),
volklich (communal)
und?
völkisch (folkish) -
i'm starting to suspect that
i'm tapping in the all things folk....
unconsciously, favoring folk
music...
see, us central europeans,
we bunch together and share
the most odd similarities -
i never thought that the song
herr mannelig could be translated
from Swedish - as it was
translated into German...
then again... Vikings founded Kiev...
and all these loan-words
of Germanic origin in Polish...
the only Anglo loan-word
that i know of, is, weekend...
hence, das volk, people -
by the way... German has "too many"
definite articles,
and only one ein - or eine -
is that the same rule as in Ęnglish?
i.e. N
in an example,
rather than in a counter example?
two vowels adjacent in separate
word, sitting across from the grand
chasm of... a spacing itch?
but look at German, i never get it...
DAS DIE DER...
is there an aesthetic difference,
and only an aesthetic difference
to mind?
bewildering...
if there is such a thing as a western
civilization...
that sometime
pompous obnoxiousness,
fair enough... no problem:
but learn to hide it,
feel it, rather then feed it...
it's not a question of a civilization,
but more...
an answer to what is less
civilization, and more... a chore...
just like western women,
notably the english women
call motherhood a, "job"...
it's a... wait... a job?
doubt was big in classic philosophy
of the Cartesian schematic...
so no one knows that
the French existentialists
brought in negation,
as the driving force to replace
doubt?
who the hell sees doubt
these days?
either the know it alles -
or the hush-hush crowd...
motherhood is a... job?
well... then i guess, being a man...
western civilization,
by that standard of logic...
can't be anything more...
than a.... ******* chore!
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
The gift of a loving and a platonic relationship.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The gift of a loving and platonic relationship
Having sorted the Philanderer or attractive
Elope if you will , be together in Gretna Green
****** lover ,being kept by a woman of means
Introduce a love potion or Philtre if you’ve one
Feast upon love if you have the energy for it.
The gift of a loving and platonic relationship
Oh too much ? I have heard , is so ******
Friends without any love making is platonic
And Platonic is OK but never satisfying
Love needs to be total never half-way
Oh the differences between loving n platonic?
Virtually all virgins are best to keep pure.
In that the longer you can stay that way is fine
Never try to keep pace with your peers
Goading and teasing you saying you’re queer
As first you really have to love yourself
Narcissism is acceptable at an early age.
Don’t you see ? Look in the mirror. Handsome !
Ask yourself a question.Am I not a fine beauty
Platonic is a name of a friend you couldn’t kiss
********** would be out of the question
Alive to the perils of the merging of the two
Torch songs of unrequited love over the radio
On an enamoured night of drinking red wine
Narcissism comes into play so frequently.
I saw it in my younger days. With pretty girls.
Collectively all trying to look the prettiest
Reality dawns upon the real responsibility .
Elevating your passion to the highest level
Let me take out the College girl every time
And talk about the meaning of life and poetry
To me the platonic relationships sustained one
In that *** never got in the way.
Only once the whole truth is established.
Necking and a cuddle in the back seat enough
*** later in life became a wonderful gift.
Having had so many platonic friends around
I think it gave me an insight to what life was.
Personally given my time over I would repeat...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip
November 15th 2018.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 7:36 AM UTC
You were the architect of the nation
And loved it with great passion
You flew the eternal dove
For your inimitable greatness I bow
You were the true disciple of Bapuji
And dearly called chachaji
You were an Arjuna
In the war of independence
You loved the dear kids
And treated them as tender buds
You wore a rose in your button hole
Elevating India is your noble goal
We fulfill your beautiful dream
And follow your spiritual cream
We love our children
As they are our true vision
Dec 25, 2010
Dec 25, 2010 at 4:39 AM UTC
The drummer of my heart
Pumps me into being
My very blood dances to the beat
The drummer of my heart
Turns the silence into music
As my essence glides across those sticks
The drummer of my heart
Keeps time with my joy
Happily beating fear into submission
The drummer of my heart
Makes me race in excitement
Accelerating and elevating my love
The drummer of my heart
Plays the stars as his drum set
And is the very rhythm of my soul
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 7:10 AM UTC
Many a notion I'd lay in indelible ink.
How the morning sun would harvest the contours of your face.
Accentuating...
Elevating...
Revealing...
Your majestic beauty.
Reminiscent of a different time and place.
Many a thought I'd pen in indelible ink.
When your breath meets with mine,
they'd hold their own conversation.
Deeply entranced,
In an everlasting dance
that would last forever.
Exchanging gaits of grandeur,
great longing and pine.
Many an inkling I'd etch in indelible ink.
The way my moon never gets eaten.
It'll balloon to its fullest...
Beaming it's brightest.
Seeping from its edges,
gushes forming rivers...
Bathing my earth in heavenly silver.
Calming the thundering hooves...
In my heart with rhyme and reason.
There are but three words...
Words so sacred I dare not utter in vain.
Proclamation so heavy my chest could hardly
hold in rein.
I've immortalised them here...
But in invisible ink...
Because no one would understand...
Of emotions so grand.
No one would have a clue...
That...
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
My tires went over the cracks in the road
As I drove by people standing on the sidewalk
Exchanging words, emotions, dreams
I passed them on my way to the cul-de-sac
To exchange money, drugs, humanity
The pedestrians penetrated me
With piercing eyes of persecution
They thought they hated me for being there
But their hatred is what led me there
They injected hatred into my life
The way I injected ****** into my arm
They injected banality into my life
The way I injected ****** into my brain
They injected austerity into my life
The way I injected ****** into my heart
They prayed that my sedation was of a more permanent nature
Before that they prayed for the permanent sedation
of my ****** nature
Wanting me to be fully awake
But not fully alive
They snuck into my mind
And exchanged emotions with emptiness
I snuck into their house
And exchanged furniture with emptiness
They exchanged words with the police
Who exchanged my freedom
For everyone else's peace of mind
But the exchange between the excommunicated
Exacerbated my exiled existence
The steel bars placed before me
Paled in comparison
To the bars that surrounded my heart
And faded from memory
When the Xanax bars entered my system
Until I couldn't walk anymore
Making me Professor X
Hiding out with the other mutants
Trying to lecture the world
That zombies turn to demons
If the exchange isn't examined
When they exit their enclosure
Sidewalk standers turn to explanations more elementary
Eliminating empathy
While elevating themselves above us
This is the epitome of our exchange
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 3:55 AM UTC
NOT AN IVY LEAGUE UNIVERSITY
IT’S A UNIVERSITY BELOW THE NORM
A POWER OF DETERMINED EDUCATION
THE WORDS THAT CREATE KNOWLEDGE
BACK THEN BEING A DANGEROUS JOURNEY TO WHAT EDUCATION IS ABOUT
THE FOES DIDN’T WANT CLASSES OF COLOR TO BECOME INTELLECT
BUT IT BECOMES A GAMBLE LIKE A FORTUNE OF BET
DETERMINATION IS NOT HAVING TO REGRET
JUSTIFICATION WITH A REASON TO ACHIEVE
EDUCATION THAT LEAD TO THE TRUE EXCELL
CLASS IS IN SESSION WITH THE SOUNDING OF THE BELL
BOUNDARIES WILL NOT HOLD ONE BACK
KEEPING THE MIND SHARP AND LETTING KNOWLEDGE BE THAT TRACK
NOW FOES, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT?
UNDERGROUND U TO STEP OUT
KNOWLEDGE IN SOLUTIONS BEING THE SHOUT
AN OLD MAN ONCE SAID, “ACHIEVEMENT COMES FROM WITHIN, AND ONLY STOPPING ON WHEN, BUT OPPORTUNITY SAYS ONE CAN, HOWEVER, ONE MUST FINISH EDUCATION THROUGHOUT UNTIL THE END”
YET KNOWLEDGE IS ABOUT ALWAYS ESTABLISHING
EDUCATION IS ABOUT KEEP ELEVATING
VITAL WORDS IN UNDERGROUND U
DON’T TAKE THE U-TURN, BUT STRIVE ON WHAT YOU LEARN
THE GIVEN RIGHT, BUT NO NEED TO BE POLITE
THE U BEING THE UNITY WITHIN
EDUCATION DOESN’T STOP, BUT CONTINUOUS UNTIL WHEN
SHALL BEING FULFILLING AND EVERLASTING WITH THE AGENDA OF ENCOURAGEMENT TO SUCCEED
LATER FOLLOWS PROCCEED AFTER PROCCEED
THE UNDERGROUND U ESTABLISED EDUCATION, BUT ACHIEVING KNOWLEDGE IN WHAT YOU READ AND COMPREHEND.
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 10:11 AM UTC
Stepping into the pristine, gentle atmosphere; truth hanging from the intricate crystal chandelier full of endless glow and luster - mischievously placed structure conspicuously elevating wonder
Full of flashing, coruscating shimmer enthusiastically engaging the convivial space; evoking a spontaneous internal unfolding mirroring the perpetual suffering connected to the chosen impeding of spirit’s copious interweaving.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 11:23 AM UTC
is this craft
that chose you,
not defined by millimeters,
precision absolute,
curvatures, so eye pleasing
they demonstrate
no tolerance
for tolerance
of the
ordinary
the skill of words,
too, cut so fine,
find the
extraordinary within,
refine, refine, refine,
shave away the trite,
the reused, discard,
instant recognition,
unusable
cut new cuts,
thy spirit tolling,
thy soul trolling
anew
is thy
toolings earth sourced
from and of the
ever better,
ever closer,
always newer
make thy own designs,
faithfully execute
the new born original,
by elevating,
with the tools
in you, provide us,
by illuminating
no thing machined,
can ever be as fine
as the originality
that requires
soft spoken definition
in new ways,
heart and hand
guild crafted
when God designed the Connecticut
autumnal leaves,
overriding the summers's single green, good
but not miraculous, insufficient,
when contrasted with the
shades of red, yellow,
purple, black, orange, pink,
magenta, blue and brown
of newly fallen
words and worlds
in the season of change
write me a tool
so elegant, so complex,
so refined and yet so simple,
that its point will force no choice,
but engrave gasps of pleasure upon
my faltering eyes,
my slowing heart,
my exhausted limbs,
and make me
live again
through your
finest creativity
heat heat heat
burn to look beyond
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
Scared, to let the words die, he hid, amid the languid luxuries of solitary structuring, lavished of the jaded and anguished lines, for lines melodrama, of the deviled days, of state, of mind, in fate, in kind, of the nether commas, devoid in honest ignorance of written words, dying on the caterpillars, cocooned, in all that's assumed, lost, in metamorphosis, never knowing this, is a dream, within a dream, of hope, clinging with stinging fingertips, ears ringing in the ripplits of a synesthesic pulse of visual signals, subliminally sounding the sirens, of solidarity, in the silent screams, of the sun rising, writhing in wanton seduction of my functions laying the heartened words of dead birds, falling from the sky, hardened in sloven cries, to justify, the means, tapping out on the screens, of a misnomer, a loner, in a coma, phoning you from the corner to warn ya, of the storm, in words prone to patience, in imaginit immaculance of the limitless limits, of livid lovers loving each-others lullabies, lolly-gagging in the illegibility, of our lucidity in the pity of leveled lofts, lovely-ly, levitating in elevating thought, fraught with passionate poetry, of ghostly words, blurred in the debilitating reasoning of reasonable reason, seasonally.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 2:14 AM UTC
Foxy pumps
Visually inviting
Stimulus
Leather jeans
Objectively elevating
Yield
Indie jazz
Naturally circuits
Relish
Vivid suspense
Intellectually appeasing
Mar 17, 2012
Mar 17, 2012 at 9:41 AM UTC
I think I see the mighty hills of Darjeeling.
What magnificence, it is that they bring!
Bold as a King, so high its peak.
Where the oaks grow densely and so do teak.
I think I hear a whistling of Toy Train,
Elevating the twisted track, so slow they gain.
As small as an ant climbing up the King’s feet,
Singing and moving while sounding so sweet.
I think I observe a little streak of falling tear,
Fall from the eyes of Darjeeling, the valiant emperor.
I looked amazingly at the hills of Darjeeling.
All hail Darjeeling! Our benevolent King!
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC
The sound of your voice,
linguistic forte
digital portrait combined,
reads lyrical, like Joyce,
the use of imagery -
elevating the plebeian,
resplendent -
the imposition sublime.
Pellucid prose, tête-à-tête
immersed in esoteric allusion
spoken with au fait.
Liberating my pedestrian
inhibition,
premise of surrender -
adrift, desultory,
delicious ambiguity.
Seduction begins in
the mind,
assets of imagination,
intellectual property;
side by side: lying supine
didactic invitation,
in assertions of diversion;
a chance to find
euphoria within our reach.
Linear alliteration;
fulgent flowing Fumé
Blanc,
fire and wine
private beach,
rhymes of elucidation
two bodies align,
I will learn if you teach.
Sensual epistemology,
curvaceous
figure of speech,
the Orphic; woeful
lover’s plight,
a porous song recite
art professor, verse confessor
tutor me tonight.
©2010 & 2011 W.S Warner
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 11:03 AM UTC
I confessed my adoration declaring my undying affection along with my true intentions
You declined most gracefully (clear and concise)
Narrating you do not share the same sentiments, (it was a forgone conclusion)
Letting me down eventually yet elevating my spirits every time you smile;
If you reciprocated even a decimal point of devotion or a fraction of affinity I hold for you
Metaphorically speaking it would acquire the vast space that now occupy all the stars in the known cosmos
For my affection towards you ran across time through galaxies extending throughout the infinite interstellar, finally resonating to the heavens unsettling angels and almighty god
In space time is redundant; direction hold no relevance and gravity is absent
Similar to the romantic intentions you have for me – literally none existent
You will always occupy that pedestal you once accused me I have erroneously placed you on
I will always hold the candle for you, step off a bridge if you asked me to
I would rather deserve medals and not have them; than to have medals and not deserve them
Very much like you – case and point
Maybe you are like the sunset I only have the privilege of admiring its magnificence from a far
But never to retain it for myself I have to let go once the dusk disappear giving way to the stars
But I like to still envision; let my imagination run rampant; then contemplate in accordance to the “Many Worlds Theory” that somewhere in the unknown multiverse, vibrating in a different frequency, we co-exist ecstatically ; now living & sharing an apartment in New York city; enjoying Chinese takeaway drinking cheap wine while listening to all your favourite songs from the nineties. (Specially the Goo Goo Dolls, The Verve and Matchbox Twenty)
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 4:20 PM UTC
The colour of love is Red.
It's thick like blood,
**** powerful, sinister.
Once you get it you need it to survive.
The colour of love is Blue.
It's like the sky,
Gentle, smooth, enlightening.
Wide, it can't be contained,
It only contains.
The colour of love is Purple.
It's like a bandaid,
Fun, mysterious, bold.
Covers and helps the healing process,
But hurts you when it is removed.
The colour of love is Green.
It's like a tree,
Free-spirited, fresh, youthful.
It gives life, food, norishment,
It only survives if you feed it.
The colour of love is Pink.
It's like a pair of high heal shoes,
Girly, happy, funny.
Elevating, increasing, aching,
Tall enough to be notice and to be ignored.
The colour of love is Yellow.
It's like the sun,
Bright, beaming, it stands out.
The bigger it is the more you see it,
And the closer you get the more you get burnt.
The colour of love is Orange.
It's like a good laugh,
Surprising, uncontrolable, ugly.
Once you start it's hard to stop.
It's addictive you yern for the feeling.
The colour of love is White and Black.
It's like ying and yang,
Needs to be balanced in order to exist.
Impossible to be live without and equally impossible to live with.
It's not a colour, can't be described.
~Gabbriella with 2 b's~
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 6:55 PM UTC
The falling leaves of fallen hearts
We have greatness in what we feel
Time alone will reveal its presence
Time can also break a waiting heart
November is a passionate fellow
But passion isn't about crushing lips
And hugs and kisses, sensual feelings
Nor climaxing the zenith of soughs
Passion is a balance of what we feel
Don't feel and want to so eagerly feel
Did no one ever kiss you so tenderly
Don't press them so tightly
Make them moist and air free
Slow sweetness starts passion
Passion hurts when its rushed
Gush! My Sweet November
Great November victors passions
For it always ascends in elevating
Love is not a power struggle
Its more than mere kissing
Victory is sometimes found in surrender
The slower vengeance ripens
The sweeter when plucked
You're are my Sweet November
I love you from here to the moon and beyond
Really slowly
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 4:37 AM UTC
I heard term "Body of God"
I thought it was kind of odd
What is this "Body of God?"
Cells running around doing jobs
Perception is prone to deception..I've taken LSD
A mind can bend..see false reality
Is it far fetched that we all can be cells?
Constantly connecting creating our own hells
Hmm...I feel it in my bones
Communities thriving..Kings sitting on thrones
Are we created in the image of The Lord?
Minds refined sharp as a sword
Elevating becoming one with truth
Scars accumulated from wreckless youth
Some inside they don't display
Still they never go away
In death we rest in earth were sewn
Souls trapped in a heart of bone
Creates a garden full of Death's sod
Be the flowers that bloom from The Body of God..
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
elegant escapades
everglade excursion
elevating emotions
enchanted evenings
egrets and ermine –
elated elephants encircle
eucalyptus
entering estrus –
evangelical elders
each embedded
even the entrenched
earn ecstatic event entrees
eat and expand
enjoy
experience –
explorers explode
expanding energy
engraving
extra’s
expertly
eloquently –
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
I'm told knowledge is a virtue.
Knowledge leads to understanding.
Fulfillment.
Shrewd eyes perceive it as arrogance;
Self-elevating over others.
I must love believing I am better,
As so the snickering goes.
In reality, it's sadness.
The joy of sharing knowledge
Is shamed back into a pit,
For knowledge is the enemy of ignorance
And a protégé of wisdom.
Jul 4, 2021
Jul 4, 2021 at 10:10 PM UTC
Stick straight trees line hills, their arrangement phony
less than 5,000 feet in elevation but elevating humanity for over
sixty thousand.
For more than sixty thousand human beings,
think of fish stuck, are stampeded by shiny black
blocks of detonation.
Explosion for extraction, and teeny tiny port-o-potties
sit, enjoying relaxation where an ecosystem once
enjoyed rehabilitation after March.
We Marched on, up a gravel hill where wind
blew but we bolted our boots to the soil.
Sunglass-clad woman concealed her hurt eyes,
but her voice hurt enough to inspire a kind of
throat retching sensation.
***** up that black, ooey-gooey you old, weathered mountain top.
Explosives like a firm finger shoved down the throat
denote a rock spew; regurgitate and repeat a dozen times over.
Flatten and deform, never to reform
the water-giving, life-renewing, shady shelter, stable
stool, magic majesty of my mountain.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC