"embodies" poems
.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
be found.
It's a book shelved high that wants to
be read.
It's the freest of all birds caged but
unbound...
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
colours.
It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
translate its thoughts.
But it can see through the eyes of
painters...
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
of musical harmony.
It doesn't follow the conventions of
genres.
But it sings its voice loud without
restrictions of melody...
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
It's an exploding universe, that merges
back into galaxies.
It's a sought after painting, that boasts
of unfathomable beauty.
It's an everlasting song, that echoes
within the poet that embodies...
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 10:54 AM UTC
The distant source of light
Brings out the shadow of you-
A Reflection of you
Following you everywhere
A replica of your inner self
Brought out by the light
Which embodies the soul
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 10:34 AM UTC
The river forks at big stone eddy
rending currents meandering course,
its silence speaks not with forked tongue
as kismet's swirling eddies abide
as if time immemorial;
a river naturally cleaved
in two separate distinct directions
befallen destiny without a choice
Spinning round and round in big stone eddy,
time just drifting by in the throes
of doubt — high water rising
beyond the bounds of earth
taking drowning souls up to the sky
Choking on a mouthful of unanswered questions,
suffocating on the parting words left unsaid;
distilling life into poetry hew from being —
trickling out like the spilled out sky —
taken down to the empty riverbed
leave lay' til it's all washed away,
in the music of the pourin' down rain
Freedom embodies metaphysical incarnations
riding the prevailing currents it can't control
Gravity-gathered down to the shoreline,
manifest reclamation after the deluge,
from somewhere far above the high-water mark
Swallowed by all the darkness woe betides,
thinking you carry such a weight to hold...
It seems all got a handful of sand to toss
up into the wind to seed the clouds
The totality of eclipsing silence grows
that rent the stillness of a dream
of peace on an eroding shoreline
In an Eddy of Expectations & Disappointment
dark waters will ebb and flow,
imponderable as drowning hope,
leaving it all out there to dry after the rain
believing in your heart —
the best is yet to come
Jesse Stillwater ... November 2018
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
Twists, rips, knots, love-filled locks.
Hair that embodies personality;
Wild, untamed, unkempt, yet beautiful.
Hair that embodies nature;
Disobedient, ever changing, free.
I will never regret these tree root locks.
They have taught me patience,
They have taught me to love even that which is not beautiful to everyone.
They have taught me that we are like the earth, we grow, and we die, and we blossom.
I never intended my snake locks to be for fashion, I wanted nature to teach me what it will.
And if no other lesson ever stays with me this one will:
Nature can never be tamed.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
She embodies a
yellow-backed salamander,
only violet.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
Tempestuous longings from behind the screen of life’s moving picture
You stare back at me, in a glimmering, shimmering afterthought
Laid low by foregoing passion
In a moment’s torrid glimpse from our hollow reflections
Fragrant evenings during seasons of filming
Solemnly captured and revised then experienced
The all encompassing struggle with context and setting
Abides a steely night, in the rustle of autumn branches
Requiem for an unremitting beloved!
Sung in the valley between piercing peaks of sorrow
She floats through the scene as distinct aura and vague essence
An embrace from the trail of vapors and misspent gestures
All emanating from a glass of cider beneath nostrils
Gracefully, you embank on the wind of time’s shadow
And nudge my cheek with impetus and vigor
Lashing out at my skin in ambivalent revelry
As if my follicles were vacuous caverns
Catching the callous moments which flutter the ***** of hillside tents
The unearthly gusts of banality extinguish the projector’s gleam
While nature embodies your beauty furthermore
Toward the end of the pathway
And the credits of the film
And the allegro of the score
And the solitude of eternity
And the rustling of the branches
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 12:09 AM UTC
Not only am I drowning
but so many are going down
along with me--
our hopes, our dreams, our ideals
are being swept out to sea
the man who claims victory
is more than just a man
he embodies evil and greed
like no other in this land--
he cares nothing for AMERICA
unless it brings profit his way
and he will stop at nothing
to rule forever and a day...
So don't bother to save me
as I am falling beneath the sea,
I cannot tread water
for he is determined to drown me
and so many others
who only want what's best
for our beloved U.S.A.
and oh my god
this test
is far too much
and I kneel down and pray
and ask the gods above
to watch over the entire globe
for beware, I see it coming
this man in charge
has not much of a frontal lobe
and we are doomed
not just as a united country
but as a human kind
for we've elected an official
who has literally lost his mind...
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 7:16 PM UTC
Donald Trump's presidency
Is one of the greatest achievements in art I have ever experienced
And Trump is a true artist
He takes words from the page
Like corruption, disenfranchisement, xenophobia
And brings them to life
Highlighting fear and paranoia so clearly
Contrasting the blacks and whites
Emphasizing anger
While reminding us we're mere infants
In the digital age
And warning us of our seniority
And capitalism's
We all like to think life has meaning
Until we hit an animal with our car
Then that's just the way things are
And I'm staring at an absurdist painting
Of a child driving a car
Through a herd of sheep
As I watch a heist film
Where the robbers turn their guns over
To the mentally unstable guy in the group
Trump is a national artist
Placing riots on the map
And drawing infernos on the Internet
His art forces an opinion
Everybody has something to say about him
And it's all true
Even the pages he ripped from his own cabinet
Tried to villainize him in their script
But he was already an anti-hero
The humor is that the mud slung onto him
Is dirt kicked up from his own tires
I guess if you surround yourself with hateful people
You're surrounding yourself with people who probably hate you
Trump's art is deeply conflicting
He reminds me of the people who want me to live in shame
Yet he embodies the individuality that separates me from that shame
His insecurities remind me of myself
High school is the White House in the eyes of a kid
And I had secrets I wanted to share
But felt I couldn't
I learned things
That changed my entire perspective
And didn't think people would understand
Afraid of being assaulted for my indiscretions
I hid behind a boisterous personality
And a nonchalant attitude
Trump's art evokes sympathy and hatred that feels so strong
When he holds a mirror defining our worst qualities
To a man viscerally opposed to his own reflection
The confliction of emotions
Is the hallmark of great art
We are all artists
The lines we write or the strokes we brush
Are in our actions
And Trump's canvas displays
A life filled with accomplishment
Inspiring me to live my own life
But I still wake up in cold sweats
From the American dream
That anybody can be president
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 6:39 AM UTC
*Soft underbellies of corruption, impropriety and moral decay
Blatantly masquerade as societal bulwarks to aggression and disintegration
Minions fine-tuned to dance to the tune
Of godfather functionaries champion
Progressively retrogressive causes that follow
The course of destruction.
Is there light at the end of the tunnel?
Reason and logic persuade otherwise
It’s thus “safe” to conclude that
A compassion filled individual
Quintessentially embodies a positively radicalized individual
Wielding immense unbridled power
To impact society in ways unfathomable
Whilst in complete understanding of the fact that
“Absolute power corrupts absolutely”
Are you that compassion filled individual??*
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 11:06 AM UTC
the zombie has opinions about nutrition
but lives off of tasty urban debris
the zombie is standing on the beach
whipped by grey
watching the waves roll in high
the zombie is on the computer again--
where nobody knows he's a zombie
the zombie seems to be listening but is looking at his phone
the zombie is not a joiner, so don't be uncool and ask
though he might join and then drop out, which just proves
joining was pointless in the first place
oh definitely the zombie likes to go down
the zombie bites the hand that feeds him
the zombie does not mind poison if it means saving money
the zombie is against bad things.
the zombie is not a sheep.
the zombie is dying of loneliness but can't ever seem to connect.
the zombie is spreading deserts
and drowning deltas.
the zombie is standing up for what's right, on facebook.
the zombie knows that *** is safer than alcohol
and it makes him safer
the zombie feels guilty sometimes but ultimately
not personally responsible.
the zombie is tired--not enough sleep, not enough brains.
the zombie doesn't need you,
he just wants you,
when he sees you.
ahem: the zombie wants you for your mind.
the zombie is free.
the zombie embodies Csikszentmihalyi's state of "Flow."
the zombie may have made you one of his kind,
you will never know because
zombies don't know they're
zombies.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 8:29 AM UTC
I grew into you like vines, delicately covering a brutalist form with a love I only know. My heart is submerged in a little ocean, its depth grew in me as I carried the weight upon my soul. The waves painted me blue, reminding me of all my sad lullabies.
Your name is a possession and embodies all that you are (it's the only way to keep you.) If I got the chance to love you, maybe I'd be much more than a supernova, devouring its life until the very end, traversing the boundless space, and it would leave traces in a thousand years; my love for you would still resonate, like the haunting interludes played by a piano in the epilogue of a song.
Feb 11, 2024
Feb 11, 2024 at 2:55 AM UTC
Well my mind is a cage enclosed with fragments of my soul
drifting away into the infinite amount of nothingness
that flows through my bloodstream and
embodies my mind and soul.
Her freedom had yet to be discovered.
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 6:19 PM UTC
It was always a dream of mine
to capture the tincture that embodies
your sound; the voice that
wakes me from myself.
Words empower, words enslave; your
words gave succinctness to the
days. Periphrastic for show and
glamor, otherwise, it was always one to another.
"I" is for me, as you see fit.
"Love" is for us, as we dream it.
"You" is a sound that reverberates
off caged testimonies.
Sweet to me for sure; good to
you you claim. Please
pour forth that music. Love,
the chords of my harp-heart.
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 3:53 PM UTC
I want the kind of love
That's quiet
Quiet like tea and a blanket in the morning
I want a love that's soft
That's honest and deep and true
That's always there
Love that's not for show
Or for power
But love simply because love is felt
I want a love that accepts and encourages
I want a love that embodies peace
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
What can I confess? I love her and that will never change.
I've tried. Nothing works. There is no way to push it out.
It will not be defeated. It is an unbeatable love. An immovable force.
It will not be controlled, it cannot be told where to go.
It simply is, and will never cease to be.
Rest cannot be obtained by mere sleep.
Refuge is a distant memory.
Your steps become nothing more than the distance between you and her.
Everything is her. Nothing is not about her.
Laughter is only a reminder of the type of innocent happiness you feel
When she's standing next to you.
Smiling faces are always a prelude to the glowing memory of hers.
No thought is had that isn't in some way connected to her.
The sun seems dim in comparison to the fire this love embodies.
It is otherworldly. It is unfathomable.
It is that brightness which cannot be perceived with the eyes or
Conceived in the body, but merely felt with the soul.
You see it more clearly through the amplification of tears,
Behind the cracks of the heart.
You work. You play. You sleep. You eat.
And nothing fulfills. Nothing satisfies the soul.
Your future is behind you.
And she stands there, grinning, waiting on you to remember her, reminding you to forget.
But I will not give up on her. It is not in me to let go of this love.
Our destiny is written in the stars. Our happy ending imprinted in my heart.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
If corporate Dems tell me about how 'We all do better when we all do better'...
Or about how 'It's not about class, it's about coming out for Dems'...
Or about how, 'No one identifies with the working class' or 'nobody wants to identify with the working poor'...
I say to you, WE ARE THE WORKING POOR.
Look at the stains on their clothes, listen to their words, look at the rugged callous of their hands, who amongst us can last a job loss, or wage cut, or a car blow out?
None of us, cept the 1%.
We are the precariat class, the proletarian class.
I say to you, the working poor and homeless are the 'emarginati', the literal marginal ones, the ones at the edges of society.
But who, honestly, isn't at the edge???
The Democratic gubernatorial candidate turned carpet-bagging Congressional goon, Bank of America executive turned-state-CFO Alex Sink embodies the centrist-right neoliberal dogma of 'business-rules', who cares about immigrants besides those who 'clean our hotels and do our landscaping'.
Brand-imaging, quaffed corporate Dems are why the two-party system in broken.
Both parties are sell-outs to capital, and they think we don't know.
We know, and we remember.
Neoliberal capitalism of 'Washington Consensus' imposed on the rest of humanity will fall.
I just hope we wise up as a republic in the mean time.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
Raindrops,
falling on water
that was still.
Creating sweet unbalance
at one with natures will.
Timeless moment,
wanting nothing from the world.
I listen to its whispers
to see what I might learn.
And the mallard,
his cheeky little eyes
are throwing me a knowing look
as he glides on by.
I watch it now in motion.
I wonder bout his world.
All that he embodies,
with no one to serve.
A sense of truth
a sense freedom,
which seems out of human reach.
I watch the world around me
to seek what it may teach.
There's anger in the bracken
and anger in the grass.
It sweeps down from the valley
and kicks me in the ****
It plays with my emotions,
as sometimes anger can,
and then it asks me questions
about the fruitless quests of men.
It leads me to an ancient ruin
where time has took its toll,
there's anger in the mortor,
and anger in the stone.
It wraps itself around me
with a promise to let go,
if I can live a truer life
if I can learn to grow.
It leaves me with an energy,
yet tired on the sand,
it told me it may still return
for anger is unplanned.
It leaves me with a message,
as only anger can.
Yes anger is an energy,
an energy unplanned.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 6:36 AM UTC
for all I know, she is a woman.
her beauty might leave you speechless
she is special, not the only one of her species,
and yet, she is uniqueness.
the wind whistles through her hair,
as she walks in elegance,
but it’s nothing like arrogance.
she embodies love and protection,
her heart is strong and golden.
and she is a lover of perfection.
she still remembers
the chances she didn’t take.
the wounds, the heart aches
and the days without breaks.
she has fallen many times,
but sure knows how to arise.
her strength has never let her down
and she still carries her crown.
for all I know,
she is a queen without king.
she always knew how to fight
and how to spread out her wings.
she protects her infants
even from a distance.
her love is persistent,
she is brave and resistent.
for all I know,
her heart is in the right place,
it carries compassion and grace.
and she will always make sure,
that I am safe.
for all I know, she must be a mother.
and gracefully I smiled,
when I realised,
that I am her child.
- gio
Nov 2, 2022
Nov 2, 2022 at 6:23 AM UTC
Inhale deeply, and a two, three, four.
Exhale, let it fill your soul once more.
The ultimate drug of choice, immersed.
Intoxication takes over, unquenched thirst.
Ceasing to end, and an endless beat.
The kind of tune to make you tap your feet.
It's the swing in your step, the song in your heart.
It's the soulful rhythm in a world torn apart.
Embodies everything in one swift ephemeral plea.
A beautiful song carried out in perfect harmony.
It runs through our veins, innate and entwined.
Music is a language for all of mankind.
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
LOVE
resonates
perpetuates
proliferates
aura embodies
reign cloud shines
I'll offer you my hand
A humbling breeze
Earthquakes shake the land
expand beneath the sand
waves rolling, sunshine
raw pure and unclear
dissolving fear
pouring light
fruiting delight
tears of nectar
sweet perfection
ormus affection
candlelight reflection sprouting seeds of our intention
laughter infection- spreading heading towards my heart
tickles as it parts ----- fleeting dogma counterparts
I believe in the moment. what it shows to me
mama earth writing poems to me, streams trees thrones to me
barefeet crush dry leaves, as fear flees these trees
teach so lovingly----- so humbling
Love Vibrations
love lifts altruist
light guides
inspired minds
so shine
restruct time
align oscillating vibes
fractal benign
loveshine
/
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
The morning star defied the godly beam of divinity:
The star feeding the vines of evil embracing bodies,
Saying “no” since the grand affliction, to the trinity,
It is Morningstar; the devil - Courage he embodies.
Nameless angels envied the free one of the chain,
Light and of light they were, yet the opposite beats -
Beats in their hearts - jealousy and wrath remain,
In the servants with no will in their celestial meats.
An upholstery of fragile sins to test the son was.
He stood for the fire, and O! Flames hurled upon,
Banished and loner, the voice of every lost cause,
In the streets, skins and days that cease to go on.
How shall we and he defend not the selves created,
With a consciousness ideal and stark, by the almighty?
The almighty himself, who selfishness in us dictated,
We, makers of evil, goodness and charming Aphrodite?
He fell, greeting the stars, wavering a throne above,
And shedding a ****** tear for a sin in the creation.
A sin with no faulty one committing - the sin of love,
Self love, the “sin” Morningstar fought for its liberation.
Dec 25, 2021
Dec 25, 2021 at 6:02 PM UTC
In my life I have come to find that opportunity always wears a mask
A hidden door or path that we could walk and find adventure
or through the chance to perform a heroic task
Opportunity is not the girl who gives in too easy
Opportunity plays harder to get than that girl you have chased after for so long
In the footrace of life we are in constant motion
Looking for opportunities to ask Opportunity for an opportunity
Love, success, failure or risk
Broken hearts are just doors left cracked open
Illuminated by the light within showing the inside to possibility
Opportunity takes a broken heart, an open door, a creaky floor
And can send that person who will seal the cracks
An angel that can pass a wand or use some weird dust
to heal the scars other may have left when they ripped open your chest
On the way out, they didn’t bother slamming to door
They left it open for the world to see you crying on the floor
As their steps fade away and the creaks stop in silence
Opportunity has a chance to whisper peace to your soul
In the emptiness and solitude of a dim and dusty heart
Opportunity often sends a person to clean the mess and turn you into the very best
Puzzles are great for the challenge each piece embodies
Once in the sum you lose sight of that one that drove you to the edge of sanity
So take the chances that Opportunity gives you
When they come a piece at a time, put it in your pocket and hold on
Like a lovers sacred locket, the pictures emulate what we define as fate
Eternity is made one moment at a time
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 10:45 PM UTC
she acts as if music is her entire world
her only survival mechanism
her only escape from the hateful world around her
and when she plays her music, she plays with the force of her entire heart
truthfully and genuinely
so much care is put into every note
so much precision and thought and meticulous attention to detail
she embodies the attributes of her music
she is beautiful, powerful, fierce, loving, passionate
when she plays her music, she blocks everything around her
focusing solely on forming a dramatic symphony of wonder and delight
not giving attention to her anxious wandering mind
she closes her eyes to take everything around her in
the beautiful feeling of her fingers sliding along the keys
the wood smell of her reed atop her instrument
the exquisite attachment she feels towards her silver plated beauty
the passion she feels in the deepest part of her heart when she lets her emotions flow through her horn
she plays her music seemingly effortlessly
although so much effort is put into her meticulous practice
she believes her purpose is to form chords and tones of delight,
because its all she has ever loved doing
music is her one true and deep passion
her one true love
she wears her emotions on her sleeve and everyone thinks they understand her
but she is far too complex to see straight through
nobody knows the pain she has been through
nobody knows the despair that has passed her
nobody knows the hell she has suffered
she finds that it is not very hard for others to tear her apart,
but music mends the holes inflicted on her soul
when she feels like she is drowning, music saves her
when she feels like she is falling, music picks her up
she uses her emotions to strengthen her music
to show her deepest hidden wounds and to free herself from the sorrow that has been inflicted upon her
her entire story is too complex to fully comprehend,
but music allows her to let her feelings out in a comprehensive way
music heals her heart and soul
it saves her from any pain that may arise
music is her everything
her life, her passion, her utmost talent, her world
her personal purpose at this time
her coping mechanism to fight the cruel world surrounding her
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 7:55 PM UTC
Untouched, by human hands
it grows strongly.
Uncultivated, by human means
it exists freely.
Untainted, by human instruments
it lives purely.
To its very core,
it embodies originality.
To its deepest roots,
it remains unrestrained.
To its brightest petals,
it emanates splendor.
Untouched, by social influence,
she grows strongly.
Uncultivated, by social expectations,
she exists freely.
Untainted, by social conformity,
she lives purely.
To her very core,
she seizes independence.
To her deepest roots,
she wanders uncontrolled.
To her brightest petals,
she radiates beauty.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 9:43 PM UTC
The city of fog
Just outside a city of smog
I don't want to be here
Not after an afternoon in the sun
The cool breeze and
Clean air from big trees
I could finally breathe again
No pressure
No anxiety
No haunting memories
Just myself and the universe
Running across the snow covered rocks
I could easily slip at any moment
But I felt no fear
I felt nothing but free
Yet here I am again
Trapped in an industrial city
Surrounded by death and capitalism
Sure there's some parks
Some controlled spaces of nature
But it's not the same
It's maintained and constructed intentionally
It is not free
It cannot thrive and grow without scrutiny
Take me back to the hills and trees
The rock formations unfazed by human contact
You can feel the energy within it
Even the broken trees lining the ground have life
But not here
It's all dead
Nothing is natural
We think it's beautiful because it's shaped that way
But real nature is beautiful
Simply because it exists as it is
It embodies it's own existence
And nothing compares to that
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 3:38 AM UTC