"emoting" poems
No legacy is as rich as honesty to leave behind
No asset is as great as honesty that enriches mind
No voice is as powerful as honesty,your heart to guide
No word is as meaningful as honesty to swell with pride.
One who adheres to principle and facts , is honest
One who loves for-what-than-who-you are , is honest
One who inspires to be fearless and upfront , is honest
One who dares to raise voice against injustice, is honest
In actions ,words and dealings -be clear and transparent
Corruption,bribery,flattery and nepotism-be always against
Greats endure pain to follow righteousness,however difficult
On life’s tight walk ,do not crave to strike rich without sweat.
Win over lies,deceit ,treachery with love,respect and fair play
Honesty is a jewel that shines-shines brighter,rest fades away
Honesty is a bitter pill to gulp,gulp you must to lead the way
Quality than Quantity of life matters most,at the end of the day.
A child should be taught to be honest at a very early age
Set an example by emoting honesty at every step and stage
Honesty instils compassion ,concern,credibility and courage
It is a virtue that differentiates between a devil and a sage.
Stakes may be high ,don’t ever compromise on values
A Right can never ever be Wrong ,however one views
Forever under HIS scanner,keep hands clean and heart true (HIS ...GOD)
Give best to the humanity the best will come back to you.
(C) Bhargavi Ravindra ...........B’lore
Dated : 09/05/2019
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 7:13 AM UTC
Nostradamus and sleeping prophet's One lost image of the singular Eye
Re(ad(d): No worry
To, Love Our Sun :).
Signs like Gemini is to air
Sagittarius is to fire a pair
in this crossing with Pisces
to water is Virgo for earth
too We are the mutable ones!!
Sunny is however we coin the calling spiraling too
EYE of the One generation transmutable souls of soil ARE
to earth; 'hues EYED like a butterfly, here to sample many flowers
connected within a Great Spirit invoked as in wilds if peopled or things'!!!
We do feel it within or without the actual considerations of the ultimate doings;
'letting go and taking the risk of trusting and depending on another'!!! One by one!!! :)
EYE of humus hued in spirit and love fused to the stone's twirling and of the ruse's tolling
So many of paths we traverse here as on earth the singular EYE knows out on the HORIZON
The great Eye is too glued on Sunny Sun's ever evolving viewing's as hued spirits cross EYE'S
Our blinded one eye's longing to Lyra's lyre, great musician Orpheus winging, whose W
music tamed wild beasts, caused rivers to stop flowing and enchanted even gates S
to the Lord of the Dead Hades, the softly lit fire singing inside linking heaven A
to earth viewed from outsider's hues waxing and waning of sleep wakened I N
so ode to the moon in the darkness of night gives but who takes her softer F USED
delight when One day halves by sun setting all ebbs in flowing as tides B I
to Great oceans moved like hearts breathe air to presence's emoting STAR'S
from magic to tragic we long of ecliptic traces cryptically erasing W
the blindness of memory and sight' majestic beast's floundering I
a forever crisscrossed from the One Eye here now to Knight's N
dear lost forbidden inner retreats from the East to God's lost 'S
children cast out to the land from blood pooling in spoils O
as easily uncovered as readily as new western lands had ~/ E \~ N
claim maddened ravaged savagely eagerly discovered ~(:YES :)~ G
fear still rocks this boat with hope still sailing onward (:FORGIVEN:). 'S
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
We treat our hearts like fighters,
12 rounds trapped in the fear cage inside.
Pride be our fuel, anger our lighters,
Our souls wastelands with nowhere to hide.
Ego hijacks our common sense,
Making shallow love our prize.
Emoting makes our minds go tense,
Until help screams out from our eyes.
The leaps and bounds we **** ourselves for,
Isn't enough to keep our hearts at bay.
Nothing will ever even the score,
There are no words they can simply say.
So why do we put ourselves through hell?
Why can't we just swallow our pride?
Because love is a feeling they just want to sell,
And in debt there's no place to hide.
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 5:28 PM UTC
For You- Butch my friend from Philippines ocean away to Cali U.S.A
FRIENDSHIP is like Red Rose in my Garden.
It is not the sum -total on how many it BLOOMED
but unfathomable beneath the ROOTS thriving & Sprouting.
Purview as Emoting little some Some,
little Bored,
little Depleted
little sad, or yielding to the Inevitable!
Languish to anguish perhaps from lack of vitamin 'ME"..Ahah!
Thereby stayed in touch, in Tuned
following the thread with ME.
My Friend so close yet Afar.
Truly Extraordinary,
wonderfully Smiling
and adamantly Affirms:
"You are D apple of my Eye!"
Every time WE see eye to eye in social networking called Facebook
Through Cyber Space
The abounding witty comments of "OMG's," "Ohhs "and 'AAhhs"
makes everyone amused with Awe of such silly antics we so accorded!
A blessing, a gift from God.
So unusual Diamonds so Alike
a rare atypical like it!
..so Uncommon
Not Phony friends out there to deceive & Decry..
Succumb unlikely in Waterloo!
But You definitely a Diamond to my passion!
As girl's BFF, a Buddy or a Sweet chum or Dude!
Not a Foe but Pal Forever.
And just to let You Know , my Friend,
You are like a Diamond so brilliant
Found like a rare gemstone from a dust
who is never be a mere coincidence to bring JOY & Delight
to the norm & Conform.
So for now.. priceless friend like You..is for me to treasure the friendship between Us.
Thank you, my Friend,
I will always be here & there for You as a Friend in Deed!
Aug 7, 2011
Aug 7, 2011 at 11:57 PM UTC
he steps forward to bless us with song
benediction’s serenade
binder clips and clothespins weaken wind
as sheet music tries to take flight
with each strum he was fighting it
emoting with sad lips and blue eyebrows
taking deep breaths let out with heavy sighs
but holding steady
singing and crying come from the same place
as he sang the sun sneaked out
shadows surrendered their stronghold
a moment of warmth shown upon our gathering
near the pine tree at our father’s grave
Terence’s ashes to be interred with dad
a musician, an artist, a writer of songs and poems
a technician, an electrician, a wood worker
his many gifts now only spoken of in past tense
a son to two, a brother to eight
an uncle to many
a father to one daughter
his passion relived in his writings and works
his essence reflected in her eyes
Sep 6, 2010
Sep 6, 2010 at 10:59 AM UTC
Sparkling, Still or Tap?
Water. A profound subject. Of which, we are all expert. Therefore, I permit myself to write upon it. Water. When I offer you Sparkling, Still or Tap, think carefully for the path to happiness is confusing, you can be mislaid, strayed, betrayed if you imbibe the wrong path.
The definition of each is not my responsibility. Like poetry,
drink what you will from each, but drink you must, pas de choix (which is sparkling for no choice).
Getting drunk on the wrong water is very bad. You have washed your system out, after flooding it. Give an engine the incorrect quality of oil, and it will grind itself willing, having been tricked, into emoting itself into gear lock suicide.
Now go back to the first line, and star(t) over, because you are no longer silly but afraid, and that is the proper way to be when first cog-nizant that this is an earnest subject and you are a fool.
So I ask, not again but for the first time,
Sparkling, Still or Tap?
You say. You are. Poor. Tap is the only option.
Save the environment from plastique explosives.
Clear as colorless water (another sujet, for another self important foolishness) you lie. Is Sparkling and Still not found naturally, while Tap is unnatural-now water transmogrified by rust pipes, fluorescent fluorides, that when drunken, tap you out and for which, You pay heavily when the water bill comes?
What am I?
Your cheek!
As a ****** passenger-reader-human unsurpassed. So typical.
My credentials?
I am human-reader-passenger-voyeur so ***** your impudence!
I am still, but underneath,
I am effervesceing, like the band,
whose goth I am too,
but don't be an idiot, for
all we know,
is tapped into us and out of us
from birth ~
until death/
Was there water in your mother 's body when she breast fed you, was there water in your formula? Was it organic (idiot), from a crystal spring from polluted China,
and isn't it tool ate (auto correct for too late) now anyway?
So I rescind the question,
for we are provisioned but poisoned long before we have adult cash or credit card bills to answer properly this waiter's question,
Sparkling, Still or Tap?
(Nonetheless, if you have progressed to this sad conclusion,
as I wait upon you and,)
Your Reply,
**Water is the clear space that surrounds the letters and words
We write, thus all words float to the surface on your unique percentage of body of water, that oils the brain.**
Ergo, Ip So Facto,
I, the waiter *** writer,
already know.
Now start from the top,
Again, yes,
And answer me,
Sparkling, Still or Tap?
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 9:48 AM UTC
~inspired by Lar Lubovitch,
gifted to Glenn Currier
who made my eyes water-dance this
morning ~
<>
raise the arms in preparation
for an articulated genteel waving
to keyboard,
an elegant slow descent,
fingers extending, splaying,
but in fine coordinated curvature
for they are 24 carat gold filled fingertips,
word & dance-art~infused
i king and expelling sounds of dancing words,
all over my body
some body part of me,
grasps that the cylinder of ink,
becomes a baton,
single instrument director,
an attaché,
an additive~lubricant,
for all my orifices,
firing rocket-in-the-air bomb bursts
while body in its entirety
motions,
shuckin’ and jivin’
in the prayer~poem first position,
a rock n’ roll motion,
back and forth,
to fro,
holy mesmerized
words run down my arms,
letters drop encased in salt drop capsules,
from the intuition in my eyes,
we see them forming words,
pooling,
without volition,
upon,
all my surfaces, but they
a mere conveyance,
bringing these expulsive explosive verbs
in an ordered fashion,
to your eyes,
intuitively,
asking you
to dance with me,
begging you
to envision me,
hearing the piano maintaining rhythm,
while a violin crys out in a overly long held notes,
concertinas bellowing,
all together quavering,
oscillating, emoting,
and you!
you are reading me perfectly
so we dance in unity
cheek to cheek,
to the song of
our poem,
our words, our tongues,
our entire entities,
rogue kissing
Dec 4, 2023
Dec 4, 2023 at 8:52 AM UTC
I am young but old
Not chasing the singing dragon out into the night
Dumping the dragging lull of liquor into my being
Like it will fill the cracks in my psyche
Thwart the emerging of my being like some slick spector in the recess of my mind
Gobbling up my intellect one atom at a time
Relevant only to the tantilzing beat of the bass
The ghetto melody making me elated to the fact that
A white hick hippy want-to-be can never be a ****
I am young
With the knowledge that time is in my favor
Wild wanton ways of youth touch my limbs with excitement
Too much drugs and drunkin dancing in the streets of small time city lights
Where I float on the blissful bubbling blunders of slurred words
And harmless touching that we all know means more than the numbing
Fuzzy fingers of inhibitors want us to believe
I am young
But I grow old
With the acheing feel of gritty mornings
Class time drool-drolling onward towards the final accumulation
Of my efforts
How the liberation of my mind feels fresh and shiney
But at once I feel a regress into old thoughts old beliefs and the worn out mentality of those older
I am old
In that my soul longs for the love that it is denied
Beaten down by the distance that holds it hostage
My tendancy to find rust and petinal signs of age beautiful
Long talks with my mother give me joy
I am old
In that I taste the test of time and see wonder in the generations past
Hoping for the sweet lull of a good nights sleep
Feeling and emoting a progressive approach to a dieing dicotomy
Loving
Hating
Saddended by things that will never change
I am growing receeding and more importantly changing
Looking to renew the implications of the word normal
But above all the old
The young, fresh and vibrant
I will forever more be
And always be me.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 2:45 PM UTC
Sadness never signalled us a sign from the cosmos,
left us to decipher the bones of history in quest of omens.
Unheeded, despair overflowed us like a desert sand storm,
buried us in credit ennui and economic laissez-faire.
World leaders formed escalating groups, G-5, G-12, G-20,
still the banks camouflaged in oppressor's language,
invented derivatives against all uncertainty, save their own,
till Wall Street acquired the stench of backed up urinals.
Only when the desperate sallied into the world's streets,
emoting songs that gushered from the wells of outrage,
did rolling blackouts of democracy unearth the buried cities,
freeing a wind that whispers ruin in uncompromising sunlight.
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 9:42 AM UTC
mounds of flesh
bouncing vigorously
off the eyeball
Crush
emoting cells
on impact
_Dame Nature_
If only you had a spirit form
we could ********** to
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 2:12 AM UTC
Adam!
turn me over and sing me a song of sixpence
hearing voices, not seeing faces ... with the radio on
it's just me myself and I
driving between towns emoting, gushing
*hurt me, break me, **** me!*
at the top of my lungs
finding bars buried in backyards
on back roads of insincerity
birch bitten and chewed
logs wet and rotten
and still, chords neatly stacked in ordered rows
can you stand me on my feet?
back home
brushing my teeth yellow
biting my nails turgid, hoping she will come with me to a show
my state is of a lower-class shambling
hoping for a renewal
or rebirth
sweating on the train repeating God's name
gasping for air making people nervous staring
at their phones wondering if I am going to keel over and die
it's just me myself and I
that's right, write it out in long hand first, then go back and edit
(wishing to write like Tarkovsky)
comparing father and son - an unchecked exception
they were buried in separate coffins
one in France the other, in a timber cask
but won't I be
too?
I wish I could say, "we have a saying in my country" or "scripture says" or
"I'm lost without you" (I am and now found).
In ruins at the end of a day
building pigeon flap (or come what may)
ascending a scale of notes in a mirror of songs
behold an image
in a scale of descending notes at dawn.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 2:25 AM UTC
Once untouched—so pure, so free,
A whispering breeze, light as the sea.
But with one soft push, I lost my ground,
No longer floating, drowning in emoting.
Chained in the shadows, longing to flee,
Trapped in love’s gallows, with no escape to be.
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 10:29 PM UTC
I should tell time by the words spoken
That way when death came knocking at least we would have conversation
Choose scheme carefully for it could mean one um to close to middle age
Two I loves you's from adulthood
Words would mean more than the method to maim
Slander the budding of free thinking mind
Or take light from a flicking candle
If time could be stunted by vocal notions
Glodal pops and humming lyrics
Then lovers would never die
And poets would fade into
The everyday mayhap the fickle trickle back into the ether
The quiet would be lovely
Emoting the stillness of nature birdsong would fill the silence as it was meant to
And the air would not be littered with the dank smell of spit and betrayal
You could ask me the weather by motion
Dance me into existence with the way your eyes spark and the grace of your smile
Such language would be peaceful
Dreaming a dream
So calming I might not
Wake
For there was nothing to curse me from it
The muted manner of being
May transcend the busy buzzing of the rat track motion
Squeeking out their horror and joy
Such silence
Such relief
If words could tell time
Forever in bliss I would be
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
A lake,
This day is placid, calm, at peace
But could be rippled, tossed, and chopped;
Submits to change, the winds increase,
From glass to wave white topped.
A quill,
Adrift, from wing’s one shake,
Will not soar, but float;
Reacting to emoting lake
To ride, perhaps to quote.
A pen,
From lake, to quill, to pen then ink
The quill’s flight afloat it scribes;
To find a cause, a purpose, a link
When in a poets hand ascribes.
©Michael S. Davis 2013
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 12:10 PM UTC
I’m determined to find joy
in the most unexpected places.
I hope to inspire more with my joy
than I have, so often, with my pain.
I’m not perpetually depressed
and bound to a broken spirit.
I'm just, quite often,
an expression of the emoting
of the broken who feel muted.
I do have consecutive days
of the light of grace shining
on me and on you in ways
that I can see clearly.
I do have months of risings and settings
with smiles if for no other reason
than because blindness enhances my being
so that I may become all sensing.
Yet, when blindness brings the days
of my binding to the lovers of my painful cries
and I'm too blind to even sense enhancement,
I remain determined.
There is joy all around us in places
that we never think to look until blindness
forces us to sense on all levels
the beauty that love placed around us
to diminish the sting of pain.
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 12:46 PM UTC
Laying in my emotion.
Espying you in my ocean.
Drowning in your lotion.
Singing your song… na na na… aana
That’s how you sang it.
Looking you in the mirror of memory,
all night goes in weeping dream.
You are a sleeve of my waking gleam,
Your voice still beams
in my emptiness.
I wondered silently, on shore
of misty stream, how will I paint
you tonight - Bold and bright red.
But I am scared that there is no you
except in my empty heart.
I wondered what it would be
like sitting beside you on couch and
reading you my heart’s bleed. But
internally I squeal like a child when
I behold the truth.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 7:24 AM UTC
Here
Is where I'm safe,
Writing
always safer,
Somehow my pen can’t,
stutter as my lips do,
Words get stuck in throats,
But never fingertips
Curses
instead of cursive,
We won’t stumble
across paper,
We save that for our
Unfolded rugs,
Here we won’t
fall off the edges,
Because even if we do
It has elegance,
Balance idly follows poise
That’s why we have
our guides,
Solid trails of blue lines
Form our foundation,
Making definite and clear,
our ideas, thoughts,
selves
Reading this, you can't tell I’m crying,
am i?
Reading this you can't tell me I’m wrong,
how can words be wrong?
Thoughts can
we catch them,
Like thieves in the night
Slipping
In between the cracks,
green eyed warriors with broken smiles,
broken promises
Thoughts becoming our subconscious bombs
underground, unheard,
We walk into no man’s land
without a cover,
stepping,
testing our grounds,
waiting for the blasts
So we write about our past,
romanticized
Our future,
anticipated
We write ourselves a map
because this time we’ll figure it out,
this time,
the words will make sense
One day
Words will whisper,
tell us what we might not know,
what we might not understand
Tell us our present
Can it be returned?
Writing makes things clear
our own words cannot hide the truth
Writing is real, raw, ridged
forever undisguised,
It can be whatever it wants
whatever we might need it to be,
Either a "yours truly",
or a "yours sincerely"
or maybe it was never really ours
Maybe it ends in
"best regards…"
Through written words alone
we can understand ourselves,
Open up closed doors,
heal the cracks left behind,
By our green eyed monsters
that we never seem to find
Emoting becomes a cure all,
end all,
of time,
of silent sufferings
We’re all born blind
we don’t see what we don’t understand,
what we never want to have to understand
Until we write it down
unhinge
We stare into broken mirrors
the reflection of our ideas, opinions,
Unable to detect the fractions of light
or the scars we like to keep covered
Words,
an honest to god friend
Guiding,
through those blue lines
the hidden crooked valleys
magnified by our storms
our moments
All the in-between white spaces
missing pieces
we look to fill with black,
Making us finally learn to analyze
to ask ourselves
About those white li(n)es
Opening ourselves,
Trusting our words,
to the unknown
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
*Deflated euphoria
Enveloped in the evening glow
The drone of the tooth
And nail battle to be
whirring down to silence
Beholding the glory
Of your hazels
Artificial gaiety
Awakens
Vicarious thrills
Emoting through you.*
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
I am birthed from an egg in the forbidden land,
standing proud I stretch my arms out wide.
I open my eyes and open my heart,
emoting memories pour into my cold mind.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames.
carry me out to the infinite stars of knowledge,
to where the Twin Goddesses of Truth
petition the serpent to deceive the future.
The barge of the Gone Forever sails past
and it bows its bows to the flail and the sceptre,
turquoise and gold with the face of millennia,
its image forever burnt into my countless lives.
I, Mighty One of Enchantment,
now fly from the shell that holds my long sleep
to the thirteenth direction of my smile.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames.
I beseech and invoke, with secret Words of Power,
the hidden wisdoms of the ancient spell.
I scribe, weighing words in their charm
to call forth the Magic of the Dark Night.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames
of he who abides throughout all time,
consume me with a thousand thousand names,
and make me the Lord of All Laws.
All Hail! to the girdle of the stars.
All Hail! to the secret glyphs.
Guide my journey through the eternal time
and take my Sphynx as your devoted sacrifice.
I, Mighty One of Enchantment,
now sail my boat of millions of years
to the thirteenth direction of my smile.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames.
Jun 4, 2024
Jun 4, 2024 at 8:06 AM UTC
I did sleep in House of Whispers
True storm, enormous proportion
Voices heard not of lispers
Things spoken had no distortion
Sleep wrecked by bent contortion
Her breath broke in, spitting damage
Window, door, shuttered madness
Hurricane Sandy rained so ravage
Spirits moaned wailing sea of sadness
The mate looked on with ever gladness
Garbled jumble, gelatinous formation
Distinctly mocking circumstances
Sandy spoke of men lost by nation
Poet reminded how nature dances
Lives, houses, relations, left to chances
She broke trees, lifted sharks ashore
House of Whispers stood, listened
Her warnings raised tides, emoting more
Matey's blue eyes spoke, glistened
Embraced evolved nature stiffened
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 11:05 AM UTC
Contagious emoting,
Prestigiously floating,
Committing to life
While time is unfolding.
Displaced trust-
Liars and lust,
Disappear with the wind
As the hinges rust.
Imprisoned in time,
Rushing to find,
The parts we lost
Along the ride.
Along the road.
No place called home.
Sway with trees-
Until the stars burn cold.
As grays recede,
Eyes don’t bleed,
For the burden of guilt
Has begun to flee.
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 2:22 PM UTC
Love you, mate.
Love your contagious tears
as they breach your ducts
and gloss your cheeks,
running free and reaching down
past the lump in your throat
to your vulnerable heart.
Love you, mate.
Love your resistance to temptation
to back hand compassion,
emoting with no hesitation,
never embarrassed
to tell the world
that no-one's too big to weep.
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 4:40 AM UTC
chaos dances dizzily within her head
grand plié, her countenance dips
spotting her lover, pursed lips
gracefully swirls 'cross the way, smile filled with dread
maintaining composure, her sentiment bled
eyes that hide a story, emoting only through her hips
chaos dances dizzily within her head
grand plié, her countenance dips
spotting her pirouettes, instead of tears shed
her mind wanders and reality slips
bold persona assumes her person, off the scripts
quasi-confident, the stage she tread
chaos dances dizzily within her head
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
wrote a note
to a row-boating goat
wearing a down filled coat
emoting about the broken tote
while doting on the potato
floating around the moat –
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
Fall, oh rain! why mock our pain?
suffocate and squirm with your laments
engulf this tortured earth and soothe its tantrums
we are nothing but obstacles in between
while you drift through turbulent times
we stomp and watch, anticipating your despair.
Cry for us again; we are parched
your tears, to sate; this anxious wait
seems eternal before the darkness,
the grey - saturating all light
paints your gloom; that's so like you,
still hiding the sun away.
Spying on the unaware, your amorphous eyes
glare and pinch a wail, unwelcome gale
like burst fire you ****** water; no more
at your mercy we scour your shadows
your breathless hue ignites the senses
blooming hope in defeated hearts
..and death in your wrathful art.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 8:52 AM UTC