"embossing" poems - Hello Poetry

To be a lucky strand, Tangled, tethered to you Cloaking such beauty, To see the iris that glows Behind tinted amber pools Teeth that advise such clarity, Wrapped in velvet creased lips A protruding collar bone, Embossing ethereal skin With shoulders built To harbor the weight of the world Bronzed over flesh is spanning Across fickle and cold bones Constructing a case to hide A sunken Aquarius heart For as hollow as it is To a lover's knock, There is much to be Uncovered and desired Unspeakable curves will mold To accentuate a searing lust Justified by knowing what it means To be held to you Arms stretching to a locking embrace Warm to touch Every joint akin to the previous, Dialing down to finger tips, Breaking away in ten beautiful directions And there lies a gateway to symmetry, Almost unseen Where the make of your mother's breath, And the sum of your father's skill, Entwine to beget a graceful badge To where you constitute a conceivable home, Should you so choose A manger, suited to an heir Here is where your dress flows How many Michigan sunsets Have broke light beneath the fabric That adorns you How many Chicago winds Have flown that flag Such comfort to be a cloth, Draped in a silhouette To an ornate fashion The thousands of threads Spun and stitched to adhere A fixation of benevolent shape It's astir to every notch As you saunter past With tenor and a managed confidence Two feet with a steadfast passion And misplaced direction

0

Dec 18, 2013

Dec 18, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC

ddscott

Body (shape poem in notes)

To be a lucky strand, Tangled, tethered to you Cloaking such beauty, To see the iris that glows Behind tinted amber pools Teeth that advise such clarity, Wrapped in velvet creased lips A protruding collar bone, Embossing ethereal skin With shoulders built To harbor the weight of the world Bronzed over flesh is spanning Across fickle and cold bones Constructing a case to hide A sunken Aquarius heart For as hollow as it is To a lover's knock, There is much to be Uncovered and desired Unspeakable curves will mold To accentuate a searing lust Justified by knowing what it means To be held to you Arms stretching to a locking embrace Warm to touch Every joint akin to the previous, Dialing down to finger tips, Breaking away in ten beautiful directions And there lies a gateway to symmetry, Almost unseen Where the make of your mother's breath, And the sum of your father's skill, Entwine to beget a graceful badge To where you constitute a conceivable home, Should you so choose A manger, suited to an heir Here is where your dress flows How many Michigan sunsets Have broke light beneath the fabric That adorns you How many Chicago winds Have flown that flag Such comfort to be a cloth, Draped in a silhouette To an ornate fashion The thousands of threads Spun and stitched to adhere A fixation of benevolent shape It's astir to every notch As you saunter past With tenor and a managed confidence Two feet with a steadfast passion And misplaced direction

53

I'm traveling the whole world And I've seemed to miss South Caroline Wish I could go, but that's nothing but a dream You're in a sleepy state, but I guess I want to make up for the lost time we made Then trying to hide the lights and fame beneath the shade of your frame You'll make me a man, all the same, all the same You'll have me calling your name South Caroline, South Caroline.. You'll have me at the point of a blame I might look back into the night, but I'll never be ashamed You'll make me another man, all the same, all the same We're all hammered, who's even paying attention to the game? I can't do nothing for too long, not with your body singing me songs When every contour of your figure is embossing my wrongs I've been looking to the stars for advice but your ambient shine pollutes the sky I want to see the way, but the streets I follow are too **** unaligned Grab me here, grab me there Please don't leave me to my thoughts South Caroline I'm half passed cloud nine I've been grabbing your hair and your eyes are giving me a stare Like when you're alone you'd rather be here Like the city around you doesn't allow you to feel any fear You're giving me highway signs, I'm on my way to South Caroline

0

Jul 9, 2014

Jul 9, 2014 at 2:39 AM UTC

ZWS

South Caroline

I'm traveling the whole world And I've seemed to miss South Caroline Wish I could go, but that's nothing but a dream You're in a sleepy state, but I guess I want to make up for the lost time we made Then trying to hide the lights and fame beneath the shade of your frame You'll make me a man, all the same, all the same You'll have me calling your name South Caroline, South Caroline.. You'll have me at the point of a blame I might look back into the night, but I'll never be ashamed You'll make me another man, all the same, all the same We're all hammered, who's even paying attention to the game? I can't do nothing for too long, not with your body singing me songs When every contour of your figure is embossing my wrongs I've been looking to the stars for advice but your ambient shine pollutes the sky I want to see the way, but the streets I follow are too **** unaligned Grab me here, grab me there Please don't leave me to my thoughts South Caroline I'm half passed cloud nine I've been grabbing your hair and your eyes are giving me a stare Like when you're alone you'd rather be here Like the city around you doesn't allow you to feel any fear You're giving me highway signs, I'm on my way to South Caroline

22

in the morning i peel you from my eyelids like wet leaves. still breathing out cold smoke. clutching at an empty space under small light. yesterday’s lipstick creates footprints across a quest that deems me the villain, i am angrily embossing (could not press the pen hard enough) what does friends mean anyways, what does touch mean without ALL of you touching ALL of me, the invisible rope around my neck is a vindictive love letter explaining how much i do not need you but those words keep me open and pulsing for the day you will curl up in my hands like a sick bird. i will feed you curling ribbons of half chewed words while i curse the clock. our timing was always movie theater doomed, a sad fate tastes like blackberries, but when my empty bed becomes too much, memories of your wet eyes swell. what could have been, hurts, what could have been makes my dreams wet with tar, what could have been haunts your harsh hands. but please, keep them on me, eroding the illusion that you ever could have stayed could have loved (me)

0

Aug 5, 2013

Aug 5, 2013 at 1:34 AM UTC

sara-loving

prose, 1 (untitled)

in the morning i peel you from my eyelids like wet leaves. still breathing out cold smoke. clutching at an empty space under small light. yesterday’s lipstick creates footprints across a quest that deems me the villain, i am angrily embossing (could not press the pen hard enough) what does friends mean anyways, what does touch mean without ALL of you touching ALL of me, the invisible rope around my neck is a vindictive love letter explaining how much i do not need you but those words keep me open and pulsing for the day you will curl up in my hands like a sick bird. i will feed you curling ribbons of half chewed words while i curse the clock. our timing was always movie theater doomed, a sad fate tastes like blackberries, but when my empty bed becomes too much, memories of your wet eyes swell. what could have been, hurts, what could have been makes my dreams wet with tar, what could have been haunts your harsh hands. but please, keep them on me, eroding the illusion that you ever could have stayed could have loved (me)

7

Treading down the steps of your heart, A string of wire holds itself from breaking, A neck is forming in that string so dart, And this action of fate, my soul isnt taking. You came to me for a friend to seek I know, Now what can I do If, my soulmate inside you, your eyes show. And this is not at all **** what I am trying to say, Folded are my hands to almighty every night to pray. My mind counts numbers and alphabets to get some sleep, It does so to console my heart, wound embossing in it is so deep. Is it my fault that I have found true love in you..?? Yes I think its mine, cause you werent wrong, your feelings werent of deciet but of true. But what can I do now if I cannot live, without talking to you. If not love, would u give some minutes of your life.? please, only a few. So that I can show you, what I used to say were not just words, I want to marry you. Hey please dont pick up ear buds.! When I try to forget all the time I spent with you, this cruel heart starts to murmur you name, Oh **** I am unable to control myself, its such a shame. But I am not a bad guy and wish for you to live happily with the person you love. While Agony spreads from tip to toe and my heart gets freezed to see someone else with my dove.

0

Jan 19, 2014

Jan 19, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC

mahesh-hegde

Hey, Please Dont Go.

Treading down the steps of your heart, A string of wire holds itself from breaking, A neck is forming in that string so dart, And this action of fate, my soul isnt taking. You came to me for a friend to seek I know, Now what can I do If, my soulmate inside you, your eyes show. And this is not at all **** what I am trying to say, Folded are my hands to almighty every night to pray. My mind counts numbers and alphabets to get some sleep, It does so to console my heart, wound embossing in it is so deep. Is it my fault that I have found true love in you..?? Yes I think its mine, cause you werent wrong, your feelings werent of deciet but of true. But what can I do now if I cannot live, without talking to you. If not love, would u give some minutes of your life.? please, only a few. So that I can show you, what I used to say were not just words, I want to marry you. Hey please dont pick up ear buds.! When I try to forget all the time I spent with you, this cruel heart starts to murmur you name, Oh **** I am unable to control myself, its such a shame. But I am not a bad guy and wish for you to live happily with the person you love. While Agony spreads from tip to toe and my heart gets freezed to see someone else with my dove.

20

Things are getting bad again. Not to worry, I’m close to the end. I’m falling down, I’m off the track. One more step, I’m never going back. If I fell, would they see, That I’m not the one I used to be? That when they talk and scream and shout, They twist and mar and shut me out? Embossing feelings of sorrow and anguish Caused by yelling, leaving me to languish How can I find hope when I can’t see the wonder? There’s no way back, I’m going under. I wish there was a way to see. I know there’s good out there, waiting for me. But lack of sight is building pain. Pain so great It has sealed my fate. Things are getting bad again. I won’t worry, it is the end. I just fell down, right off the track. I took that step, I can’t go back.

0

Jun 29, 2019

Jun 29, 2019 at 11:50 PM UTC

Noctis

Never Going Back

Things are getting bad again. Not to worry, I’m close to the end. I’m falling down, I’m off the track. One more step, I’m never going back. If I fell, would they see, That I’m not the one I used to be? That when they talk and scream and shout, They twist and mar and shut me out? Embossing feelings of sorrow and anguish Caused by yelling, leaving me to languish How can I find hope when I can’t see the wonder? There’s no way back, I’m going under. I wish there was a way to see. I know there’s good out there, waiting for me. But lack of sight is building pain. Pain so great It has sealed my fate. Things are getting bad again. I won’t worry, it is the end. I just fell down, right off the track. I took that step, I can’t go back.

20

It became an addiction with every one came another another blood stain in my diary Another pill to swallow to subdue the pain of the next, another flame against my still raw flesh racing myself toward the finish line of my own life embossing my skin with a map of moments Little pink scars like the pink of the sunset the pink in his eyes I never liked pink or brown but in his eyes they were perfect But when that pink changed colour Green when he's angry Orange when he is someone he's not supposed to be A burnt reminder that old habits don't die Merely reborn as another I used to burn myself, The smell of burning flesh still puts me on edge Relapse loses all meaning Maybe it'll welcome me back like an old friend That friend I never wanted But still managed to have Didn't notice I was slowly killing myself poisoned stomach with diet pills Losing ten pounds a week 75 pounds at 5 foot 2 and still fat 'You're petite that's a good thing' he told me Swallowing handful after handful A month of force feeding by my family and I realized he was wrong, all it took was a heart break it all started again an new addiction hand to scalp in my sleep tearing out bits of hair and you wonder why I cut it a year later I began biting bite by Bit by bit by bite taking myself away Because once again there was too much Always too much But somehow I've never been enough for anyone else

0

May 7, 2014

May 7, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC

RogueSabotage

Addiction

It became an addiction with every one came another another blood stain in my diary Another pill to swallow to subdue the pain of the next, another flame against my still raw flesh racing myself toward the finish line of my own life embossing my skin with a map of moments Little pink scars like the pink of the sunset the pink in his eyes I never liked pink or brown but in his eyes they were perfect But when that pink changed colour Green when he's angry Orange when he is someone he's not supposed to be A burnt reminder that old habits don't die Merely reborn as another I used to burn myself, The smell of burning flesh still puts me on edge Relapse loses all meaning Maybe it'll welcome me back like an old friend That friend I never wanted But still managed to have Didn't notice I was slowly killing myself poisoned stomach with diet pills Losing ten pounds a week 75 pounds at 5 foot 2 and still fat 'You're petite that's a good thing' he told me Swallowing handful after handful A month of force feeding by my family and I realized he was wrong, all it took was a heart break it all started again an new addiction hand to scalp in my sleep tearing out bits of hair and you wonder why I cut it a year later I began biting bite by Bit by bit by bite taking myself away Because once again there was too much Always too much But somehow I've never been enough for anyone else

41

Restlessness Ruffles of green and tulips and mauve Chatters Whispers of giggles and clinks A forest of emotions Tuxedos and gowns And petunias Wine and whiskey And half eaten slices Embossing art

0

Mar 26, 2022

Mar 26, 2022 at 8:40 AM UTC

SuparnaNair

Locks and Bells

Restlessness Ruffles of green and tulips and mauve Chatters Whispers of giggles and clinks A forest of emotions Tuxedos and gowns And petunias Wine and whiskey And half eaten slices Embossing art

10

Camellias, winter shrubs, Their shallow roots grow beneath the spongy caribou moss, Robins egg blue. After writing a play with my gifted students program in 1991, I stopped spending all my free time writing short stories, But the caribou moss was still soft. In the cold Arctic of that town, The evergreen protected the camellias from the afternoon sun and storms. They branded hardy camellias with a brass molded embossing iron; I had paper and graphite for my pencils. After my ninth grade honors English teacher asked us to write poems in 1994, It began raining. We lived on an overhang. A vertical rise to the top of the rock. The rainstorm caused a metamorphic change in the snowpack, A wet snow avalanche drifted slowly down the moss covered rock, The snow already destabilized by exposure to the sunlight. The avalanche formed lakes, rock basins washed away with rainwater and melted snow, Streams dammed by the rocks. My pencils washed away in the avalanche, My clothes heavy and cold. I wove one side of each warp fiber through the eye of the needle and one side through each slot. Salves, ointments, serums and tinctures, I was mining for graphite, They were mining me, The only winch, the sound through the water. A steep staircase to the red Torii gates, I broke the chains with bells for vespers And chimes for schisms, And wove the weft across at right angles to the warp. On a rocky ledge at the end of winter, The pink moon, bitters and body butter, They tried to get me to want absinthe, Wormwood for bitterness and regret. Heat and pressure formed carbon for flakes of graphite. Heat and pressure, I made bitters, Brandy, grapefruit, chocolate, mandarin rind, tamarind and sugar. I grounded my feet in the pink moss, paper dried in one hand, and graphite for my pencils in the other.

0

May 19, 2021

May 19, 2021 at 12:57 AM UTC

MeenaMenon

Pink Graphite (May 18, 2021)

Camellias, winter shrubs, Their shallow roots grow beneath the spongy caribou moss, Robins egg blue. After writing a play with my gifted students program in 1991, I stopped spending all my free time writing short stories, But the caribou moss was still soft. In the cold Arctic of that town, The evergreen protected the camellias from the afternoon sun and storms. They branded hardy camellias with a brass molded embossing iron; I had paper and graphite for my pencils. After my ninth grade honors English teacher asked us to write poems in 1994, It began raining. We lived on an overhang. A vertical rise to the top of the rock. The rainstorm caused a metamorphic change in the snowpack, A wet snow avalanche drifted slowly down the moss covered rock, The snow already destabilized by exposure to the sunlight. The avalanche formed lakes, rock basins washed away with rainwater and melted snow, Streams dammed by the rocks. My pencils washed away in the avalanche, My clothes heavy and cold. I wove one side of each warp fiber through the eye of the needle and one side through each slot. Salves, ointments, serums and tinctures, I was mining for graphite, They were mining me, The only winch, the sound through the water. A steep staircase to the red Torii gates, I broke the chains with bells for vespers And chimes for schisms, And wove the weft across at right angles to the warp. On a rocky ledge at the end of winter, The pink moon, bitters and body butter, They tried to get me to want absinthe, Wormwood for bitterness and regret. Heat and pressure formed carbon for flakes of graphite. Heat and pressure, I made bitters, Brandy, grapefruit, chocolate, mandarin rind, tamarind and sugar. I grounded my feet in the pink moss, paper dried in one hand, and graphite for my pencils in the other.

42

It’s just sew embossing to put this imprint, butter goes. Sum tines it feels like my thoughts are just a slurries of malapropos. One right have to another. I never know what’s coming hexed out of my mouth. Do you heal me? I’m just slay’en. Bereave me, it’s twines like these I can’t strand to be a wound myself either. To parallel Virginia Wool, I need a loom of one zone To un-tango my thoughts and find dancers to these questions. Cod-Lamb-It-All-To-Health! Cheese-IS-RICE! Will this Rever-end?!

0

Nov 5, 2017

Nov 5, 2017 at 8:51 PM UTC

william-clifton

Sew Embossing

It’s just sew embossing to put this imprint, butter goes. Sum tines it feels like my thoughts are just a slurries of malapropos. One right have to another. I never know what’s coming hexed out of my mouth. Do you heal me? I’m just slay’en. Bereave me, it’s twines like these I can’t strand to be a wound myself either. To parallel Virginia Wool, I need a loom of one zone To un-tango my thoughts and find dancers to these questions. Cod-Lamb-It-All-To-Health! Cheese-IS-RICE! Will this Rever-end?!

10

I was so ******* done So **** exhausted So I locked up my memories In the sweet little chest With golden filigree And a burgundy base A bit of raised embossing And an engraving that read, "Do not open, For these are incapable of cherishment" I set it on the highest shelf Of the unused linen closet And I lit a candle Placed it on the shelf beneath And locked the door I walked away for an hour or so But the candle had died So in my fit of anger I ran to the furnace I opened the door And turned Every thermostat in the house Up to the highest point And just for good measure I lit a match And placed it under the door I went to sleep surrounded by flames To my demise the firemen came And when all that remained Was that **** laughing box They thought I might want to see Because they opened the box Unknowing of the horrors inside And once again Like an LSD addict Knowing the trip might be bad I threw another ******* match

0

Jul 31, 2016

Jul 31, 2016 at 1:08 AM UTC

hidingwithharley

I Threw The Match

I was so ******* done So **** exhausted So I locked up my memories In the sweet little chest With golden filigree And a burgundy base A bit of raised embossing And an engraving that read, "Do not open, For these are incapable of cherishment" I set it on the highest shelf Of the unused linen closet And I lit a candle Placed it on the shelf beneath And locked the door I walked away for an hour or so But the candle had died So in my fit of anger I ran to the furnace I opened the door And turned Every thermostat in the house Up to the highest point And just for good measure I lit a match And placed it under the door I went to sleep surrounded by flames To my demise the firemen came And when all that remained Was that **** laughing box They thought I might want to see Because they opened the box Unknowing of the horrors inside And once again Like an LSD addict Knowing the trip might be bad I threw another ******* match

37

solitude is usual , even welcomed. trips out reveal another state. the mind and all travelling excites, , i await silence. again. he asked me a question, then i replied. endlessly. it may be a gift? ash escapes the brain into air. days left, three voices rise, until just one is heard ** on reading of orchids have been meaning to tell what a lovely book you gave me so while the mopped floors dry i am marooned with the internet a while a good grasping size, embossing feels good to touch while one chapter at a time opens new ideas and brings fond memories of dorset country side solitude another time in life thank you

0

Mar 8, 2021

Mar 8, 2021 at 12:58 AM UTC

sonja

.28.ash.

solitude is usual , even welcomed. trips out reveal another state. the mind and all travelling excites, , i await silence. again. he asked me a question, then i replied. endlessly. it may be a gift? ash escapes the brain into air. days left, three voices rise, until just one is heard ** on reading of orchids have been meaning to tell what a lovely book you gave me so while the mopped floors dry i am marooned with the internet a while a good grasping size, embossing feels good to touch while one chapter at a time opens new ideas and brings fond memories of dorset country side solitude another time in life thank you

26

Here's a piece of paper with gold embossing. Go make something of yourself. Be what you want. Fulfill your wildest dreams! But not that.

0

Sep 21, 2015

Sep 21, 2015 at 9:48 PM UTC

anonymoose

Congrats!

Here's a piece of paper with gold embossing. Go make something of yourself. Be what you want. Fulfill your wildest dreams! But not that.

5

I think this has all been harder on you than me not your load of strife but the realizations accompanying our thing for me, it's all been validating an embossing seal stamping papers official I'd filled out and mailed in for processing already but you... you got a massive dose of holy truth even as you spouted ***** defeat that's a lot to swallow and I think it's not really me you're not ready to face it's all these paradigm-shifty mystical beliefs flitting in and out of inter-D challenging relationship history with faith in sacred things haunting ***** discordant pipes echoing up into your rafters sometimes I wish those things didn't come along with me maybe then we could be friends in 3D without it being so overwhelming

0

Jul 9, 2017

Jul 9, 2017 at 4:55 PM UTC

everlastingcherry

the F word

I think this has all been harder on you than me not your load of strife but the realizations accompanying our thing for me, it's all been validating an embossing seal stamping papers official I'd filled out and mailed in for processing already but you... you got a massive dose of holy truth even as you spouted ***** defeat that's a lot to swallow and I think it's not really me you're not ready to face it's all these paradigm-shifty mystical beliefs flitting in and out of inter-D challenging relationship history with faith in sacred things haunting ***** discordant pipes echoing up into your rafters sometimes I wish those things didn't come along with me maybe then we could be friends in 3D without it being so overwhelming

44