"eminate" poems
Morbid nights of endless past and future
A darkness i'd endured in unwavering solitude
A tormenting blight forged with evanascent hope
My identity had all but lost its face
A maiden forged from the scales of heaven
A twist of the warm dark waves of locke
A brown eyed hue of sparkly dews
Sculpted out a beauty divine
A never ending feast, crave my lifeless eyes
A smile is all, darkness be gone
Your laugh it strings every beat of my soul
A glow you eminate, i stray not away
A simple whisper, i waver not from your side
The nights of yore are long forgotten
Unblinking, blinding lights i endure
Hope has taken form, a beauty undiscovered
Deny this you may, an unmarked angel you are
forever mine to protect
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 8:24 AM UTC
Oh midnight muse of mine,
The clock ticks by, yet, seems frozen in time
Your gentle breath whispering thoughts of grand design
Pulsating softly, smoothly, and sanctuously in rhyme
"I think you can, I know you can, feel yourself shine
I think you can, I know you can, allow your dreams to align."
Just as the day's about to break my spiritual back
And I lay down to obsess about all that I lack,
We deeply connect through channels unknown
My inner self ignites, burning deep down to the bone
I feel a warmth entangle every inner part of me,
Those that said there is nothing I can have, do or be,
And when it grabs hold of these negativities,
They sieze and melt instantaneously.
What a wonder it is to watch your flame burn
Who knew, that by watching, I, too, would yearn
To fervently learn. A hunger for more begins to stir
Driving me, forcing me, inspiring these words.
Oh midnight muse of mine,
you release me from this box we call time
and, in this eternal and bliss-filled stasis,
Creativity, gratitude, and love are my basis
What a foundation to build upon, so strong and so true
On which I will build a bridge beaming towards you.
Though my eye lids flutter with ever increasing weight
I am gently pulled forward by the energy you eminate
Into a world where I am absolutely free
No shackles or lack pulls or binds this new me
Goodnight, midnight muse of mine
Shall we meet again? Same place? Same time?
I need not hear an answer for I feel it so loud
I will join you now behind this familiar dark shroud
My gentle breath whispering thoughts of grand design
Pulsating softly, smoothly, and sanctuously in rhyme
"I think I can, I know I can, feel myself shine
I think I can, I know I can, thanks to you, midnight muse of mine."
- BPW 12/24/2013
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
Feline.
Mystery.
Intelligent. Composed.
Detrrmined.
I have seen that face before. In the awarak
Cafe colored beauties of the carib.
I would dearly love to sit and listen to your spirit. Eminate.
You my dear captivate my senses.an oblique beauty exudes.
To write you out filtered through my mind.
Knowing your ki your novelty would be. Golden.
Your uniqueness is silky sand running through
The glass timer turned over.
But that would be
a washed up dritwood on the shore.
To wash away with the drag tide. To travel the oceans wide.
For another hunded years.
To see one like you again.
Unanounced. Sorry.
I am a man of many parts.
Diverse and stolid in one package.
Skin deep and well deep
Without and within.
What do those lovely cat's eyes see.
Pointed at me ?
A goodness I hope.
For that is what abides.
Lingers and bobbles on the tide.
Tell me please. What do those lovely feline senses feel
I am ruffled yet entranced.
Different.
Oblique.
Please speak.
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 9:15 PM UTC
some have souls that
eminate rays of light,
sunshine pours out by the handful.
other souls drag rain clouds
behind them, leaving puddles
that soak the earth.
maybe it's time you start
surrounding yourself
with both souls,
take a bit from each,
and plant a garden
of baby's breath
in your own.
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
Am at this edge
Looking down at beautiful clouds,
Tired of wondering,
How it feels to ,fly with my generations eagles,
How it feels to ,breath the top air,
How it feels to,stay full because am always hungry,
How it feels to ,have my hands for wings,
How it feels to ,use my dear friend fear to get me there,
Because fear is,my dear friend who drove me here.
I see this beautiful people, flying above me,
So beautiful,so bold,larger than life as they eminate love,
I hear voices, saying just jump,
Take this risk,Fly with us we will teach you,
For there are many who you will help, just jump,
Fear my driver,my friend,
Took a plunge I heard him squeal,
I don't see him flying though,
Neither did I hear him fall,
But I can feel him take control now,
Giving me excuses not to jump,
Offering a ride back,
To my comfort zone home
Thank you fear,
For driving me here,
I don't want a ride ,
I'll take the plunge,
I won't close my eyes,I'll keep them wide,
Stalling,like a bullet will rob my time,
I'm burning the brigdes by this, I don't care,
I'll hit the ground running,
Or spread this hands, coaxing the birds,
Fear my friend,some times my coward friend,
Hop on my back seat,
You've drove me forso long,It's my turn now,
Your my friend,I won't cast you aside,
So buckle up, collect the memories as I drive.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:18 AM UTC
I saw it there, in far off history
Before the ice grew
And covered the lush
Sun laden lands
I was stunned for a while
What I saw in that distant past
Was dark and inexplicable
Beyond my comprehensive limits
I looked as much as I could bear
And though I could not
Shape proper thoughts
Images entered my mind
A long fallen temple
With a single prisoner
Bound in eternal chains
And sunken below the ice
He of the dust
The title repeated
Over and over in my head
Instilling that name along side
The image of the captive
I knew nothing of the captive
But even in my vision
I could be an overwhelming
Empty presence eminate from him
For ten thousand years
Has he laid dormant
In the northern shelves
Of ice and snow
Yet now they receed
Heralding his return
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 1:47 AM UTC
I'm tired of falling asleep with Bill Gates watching my every snore,
YouTube, Hulu, Netflix gluing my eyes open to often persistent demons,
to a constant glow where media seems to live and eminate.
I'm tired of dreaming of lebron James being as good as Michael Jordan,
of being shoved onto a train when my knees ache at the spokes of a bike wheel that I've had since I was was 18,
of being force fed Tyson when prairie chickens used to roam freely across Tennessee.
I used to dream at night,
the blue light filter nonexistant in the glow of a soft yellow,
to crawl next to next to my cats who sleep next to me,
my throat and wrists free of the wires that connect me to a gigabyte speed ethernet port,
I used to not be nauseous when I would wake up.
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 9:36 PM UTC