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The pains of reality justify the
Deep seated sorrow of man.

The vulture encircles me
Events surrounded by mystery
Enveloped in insanity
The human race is
Captivated by mystery
Doomed to repeat history

Collusion to bestow unmitigated
Sorrow upon my being

Simply put, I am
Damaged goods

Speak softly now
And choose your next thoughts
Carefully,
For the devil has called
My soul to dance

Reckless, unmitigated
Abandonment
Of mind, body, and soul
Fruitless searches
Forever numb
Longing to feel whole

Deep beneath the rolling waves
Lies serenity
Amongst sunken slaves
Deep inside my brain
The labyrinth of my mind
Memories that
I've left behind
Gone with the breeze
Above arid land
Somewhere lost in the desert
Where only shamans understand
Somewhere locked in the innocence
Of childhood frailty
Misplaced in the universe
Perpetuating reality
Walking alongside
All the gods of the ages
Bounding across time
In history's pages
Vacated with the morals
Of man
Lost in the seams of
Our lives
In the absence of the infinite
Shared hallucinogenic cries
Gone with the limbs of
The serpent
Ignored individuality dies
The reflection of man tainted,
For it is where the devil hides
Looming in the shadows
Of irresistible allure
No acquittal of our sins
A race ****** to remain
Impure
Violence surrounding our
Unequivocal, dastardly instincts
Perched in the forefront of our
Perceived selves
Selfish, devilish
Acts of kindness
The misfortune of the fortunate
Given all the amenities
Of a king's meal
Without the sensation of
Taste
Washed away with our
Dreams of betterment
Laying upon the chests
Of mythological beasts
Souls left rotting
Souring with ferment

Supreme consciousness
Arouses the senses
Invent my future with the
Myths of the past

You're stuck in a state of
Imaginary grace
Dream myself into
New bounds of transparency

Cryptic writings
Things left unsaid
Unsure of the real
Or the surreal
Life's slipping away
Once again
Paper in hand
Palms begin to sweat
Indulging into reality
Memories
I long to forget

It seems forever
Since I've been home
Trying to balance
This chemical imbalance
But always, I'm left here
Alone
Believing my dreams real
Realizing my world's surreal
Living with uncertainty
Imagining reality

Where do I go
To hide the pain?
Dual existence?
Acute psychosis?
Trapped inside my own
Brain
There's a place in my mind
I like to hide
Where all of my secrets
I do confide
There's a place I go
To bury the pain
A papered existence
Conducive synopsis,
Abstained

I begin to sweat
My heart screaming
From my chest
Let the feeling pass
Delve into the kingdom
Inability to
Repress
Take me away
To that far off place
Abscond into surreality
Amongst things I dare not
Confess

Drinking in divinity
Affixed on mortality
Will I die in this place?
Unable to resurface
Back in reality

Stuck running in circles
On a surface-less plane
Can't escape the shadows
Can't remove the pain
Simple design
Made up of
Over thought complexity
A universe separated
Removed from the modern mind
Inexorably

Amputation of
The mutation
That is the
Human race
Segregation of this
Charred realm
From other wordly
Space
We live
We die
And death begins it
Reinvent our minds
Ignite our passions

Drowning in a gene pool
Of degenerates
Souls thrashing
Wildly, forlorn
Plunged into unmitigated
Evil
Of a race that destroys
The unborn

Lachrymose gaze
Upon the living dead
A thin film of separation
Through which lies
Are fed
Understanding the weakness
Into which we are
******
For shed blood
Forces cries
Ripping from mother's eyes
Witnessing her own demise
As a piece of her
Slowly dies
For father's impenitent
Fantasies once dreamed
Torn away from aching
Fingers
Left ravaged,
Impotent

Gazing at you
Under the cloak of
Intrigue
Watching you struggle
In the tangled lies
You weave

Commanding the head
Of the serpent
Lilith forcing man's
Non-repent
Imposed upon our being
Righteous punishments
Such ramifications
Deemed astringent

Incomprehensible
Allure
Masochists of
Everything pure

Watch the world die
From afar
Irrevocable despair
Promising allegiance
To a life I cannot
Bear

Killing myself with
Indecision
On the perimeter
Of sanity
In the psychotropic prison
And psychotic affliction

Here it comes again
The voices, getting louder
It doesn't feel good anymore
How do I escape
Escaping?
Where do I go when my sanctum
Has been compromised?
Unable to quiet
The insurgents afoot
Incurable, incalculable
Indecision
Lost, finding my way home
Left in between existence
Alongside myself
Alone

The cold, inhuman ability
To sacrifice one's own mind
Hanging onto the coat tails
Of free thought
Journey we now,
Into the nightmare
Ignoring loss of
Comprehension
Vacated laws of
Apprehension
Arming latent illness
Plotting revenge
Beneath the surface

Here it comes again
I hear it getting louder
It doesn't feel good anymore
Who will save the lifeguard
When he's about to drown?

Can you see me?
Can you hear my cry out?
He looks to find
There's no one around

Searching indefinitely
For myself
Lost in another
Under the guise of
Someone else
Why does it matter?
Seemingly insignificant
In a moment of clarity
Just breathe for a moment
Shoved back in reality
"Am I dreaming," he asked
His reflection replied
The answer profound
Unknowingly died

I sold my soul to get here
On the periphery of realization
Stuck on the perimeter of reality
Reentry revoked
Forced to sit idly
As my life passes
Before my eyes

This is my letter
Unable to deliver
This is my life
Unable to decipher
This is my nightmare
That I've never dreamed before

Trapped in the prison
I've constructed on my own
Locked myself in four walls
Of uncertainty
Built in the center of being
Unnoticed by the proprietor
Frailty prevalent
Implosion of the mind
Leading to the ******* of
The insanity
I've come to find

Death looms at the end
Of the candlestick
Walk hand in hand
With me
Fellow traveler of
Uncharted paths
My fellow affliction
With the unknown
Unable to save myself
From the pain I know
Awaits me

Here it comes again
Inescapable, maniacal laughter
It doesn't feel good anymore
And all I ever wanted
Was your guiding hand
Complacent in lies
Forcing deafening cries,
For there will be
No reprise
As my soul flutters
And dies

Death for sale
Ten will take you away
Consumed by the thought of it
No more worry
No more being suppressed
This other kingdom
Unknowingly repressed
Delve deeper into the nightmare
We lie together
Naked
Unashamed
Open to the probing
Fingertips
Of the world
Unable to speak
Sleep paralysis,
Yet this is no dream
Wide eyed
Searching
Unable to scream

Incommunicable desires
No longer latent
Unsuppressed is the disease
Of your discontent
Insufferable, forcible pain
Towards the ones loved most
Catatonic, embryonic
Feeble mind
Please save me from myself

Forgive me, father
For I know not what I do
Forgive me, mother
For I do not blame you

Plastic state of being
Suspended in the viscous
Coagulant of stolen thought
And free will
Drowning in my
Own enjoyment
Of self suffering

How will you remember me?
A trembling voice
To read my eulogy?

Forget the things I should have said
This demoness I've brought to bed
Speaking in riddles
Bewilderment of the senses
Deeper appreciation
For the subjugation of man

War criminals in suits
Pretentious, cowardly vestiges of man
Surrounded by an air of
Undeserved arrogance
Getting fat on young girls
Sending their children to war
Safeguarded by a desk
And the allure of change
Obscene, disgusting animals
Consuming their weight daily
In the profit of drugs and
Devised disease
Profiteers of death
Politicians work the corners

And I fall,
Too weak to carry on
Can't escape my own
Lonely, cold, loveless
Gaze
Black holes in my head
Leading into the depths of
My soul
Emptiness pervading
Madness running rampant
Destroying who I once was
Tearing to pieces
My uniqueness
Stripped of self
Thrown back to march
Within the masses
Towards impending demise

Staring into the eyes
Of the serpent
Turned to stone
Numb to emotion
Numb to pain
I cry out for substance
I miss the person
I used to be
The person you loved
Before you met me

Relieve me now of sin
Unto re-birthing, begin
Relieve me now of this burden
Knowledge and shame
Relieve me now of myself
And self inflicted pain

There it goes again
Making me feel dour
It doesn't feel good anymore
Purge me of this dependency
Ancient, carnal need
Necessity of loathing the infinitesimal

I've met the devil in my dreams
She looked a lot like you
Dreaming in wakefulness
Awakened desire in dreams
What is my intention?

Do I provide a function
Or functionally provide?
Are you living in a nightmare?
Have you gone to sleep and died?

Synesthesia upon awakening
My sensory perceptions
The permutation of the
Infinite

Children of the wilderness
Remove us from the
Impurities of societal disorder
Relieve us of the blandishment
Of media driven fallacies
As the masses are hoarded,
Spoon fed their own flesh,
And directed onward
By the pusillanimous grave robbers
Awarded with the title of
Government official
Given diplomatic immunity
And free reign over
The direction of our lives

There lies a serenity
Beneath the quiet surface
Of the ocean
The ocean floor is vast,
Uninhabited promise

I have developed an acute prescience
For what will come

Man unknowingly conspires
Against himself,
For the good of man
Cannot overcome
The evils of mankind
Conquering in the name of
Worthless ideals
And fruitless endeavors

Conforming to nonconformity
You're only fooling yourself

Wandering about in a dreamy state
With unexplained expectations
For some sort of happy outcome
Welcome to my nightmare
My inescapable kismet
Defend me from myself
I have become
My own worst enemy
Just a hyena looking for
A lions share
More animalistic than
A starving predator

Morally ambivalent
Acting upon
Inconclusive notions
There is no stability
In this loose earth
Sinking ever deeper
Into life unbeknownst
To me
Quicksand enveloping
Sanity and conscience
Leaving behind
Only memories of
What we ought to have
Become

Been suppressing emotion
For so long
Seems like forever
Since I've gone
Numb to the heartache
Blind to the happiness
Rediscovered childhood
At the end of my life

The words become a
Flowing river
My pen cannot dance
Quickly enough
To capture my
Escaping tongue

Discovering escape
Through self sufficiency

Sanity is nomadic
Traveling from
Person to person
Mind to mind
At any given moment
We are all insane
Began as a stream of consciousness and developed into a monster.
Never, never again?
Not on nights filled with quivering stars,
or during dawn's maiden brightness
or afternoons of sacrifice?

Or at the edge of a pale path
that encircles the farmlands,
or upon the rim of a trembling fountain,
whitened by a shimmering moon?

Or beneath the forest's
luxuriant, raveled tresses
where, calling his name,
I was overtaken by the night?
Not in the grotto that returns
the echo of my cry?

Oh no. To see him again --
it would not matter where --
in heaven's deadwater
or inside the boiling vortex,
under serene moons or in bloodless fright!

To be with him...
every springtime and winter,
united in one anguished knot
around his ****** neck!
Andre Baez Aug 2013
Everyone Has a Story… Here’s Five.


Part I: Cousin

I remember
That daze I felt those days
Those days that were fixtures
In my life at the time
But like all good stories
They come to an end
Sometimes abruptly

I was on the island,
At the very top,
Looking down from our mountain,
It was night time,
And the lights shined clearly,
Little holes from the bottom of heaven were penetrating the world,
As they did so I peered on,
Never truly understand what heaven was,
This was my element,
The curiosity which was placed in me,
Since the birth of my being,
Has never been one for being quenched,
Even if my parents tried to beat it out of me,
After a time they kind of hit a fork in the road and decided to go right,
But at the last second I side stepped and ran my behind to the left,
Because the right side isn't always the right way to go,
I felt that their minds died some time ago,
But I was a kid, in the hoods of Puerto Rico,
Only visiting, never witnessing,
The day to day realities,
That came from living so rapidly.

I met my cousin for the second time the days before that night,
He took me under his wing almost immediately and I was happy to follow,
He was a tall man, tattooed from head to toe,
I thought the second I laid eyes on him, that this was my role model
As a lover of Hip-Hop I thought this was how everyone should look,
He would cuss, and spit, and drink, and have several women on deck,
While rolling a couple of joints,
This was the MAN!

However, this view didn't last for very long,
Because on that night,
I witnessed the devil for the first time,
I crawled from beneath my covers,
That my mother had so carefully put into place,
As a safeguard against the realities of the world,
That would come true in my childish fantasies of the boogie man,
The only bad I knew was what was told to me by the news,
People falling left and right cause of wars and other endless fights,
But in my mind they could be brought back to life by the Dragon *****,
Unfortunately Goku wasn't here this night,
I snuck through the house silently,
As the noise would be drowned out by the singing of coquis,
My bare feet hit the humid pavement following the rush down the stairs,
I only wanted to see my view,
The view of heavens holes peering through the vast and dark sky,
It was located at the edge of a cliff that looked over a ravine and then the wilderness,
At the precise moment I stopped to realize my will,
My dream was disrupted by a voice,
Followed by a sound that sliced through my mind and deflated my childish intuition,
A sound that penetrates my adult mind and echoes in the silence to this day,
Muffled screams echoed out after I heard the gunshots ring,
Beneath the sounds of the forests singing,
My heart was pounding slowly,
I was strangely calm rather than panicky and fearful,
Not that I was a brave child, but I remained curious,
Until I saw the blood…
It was then that I saw the dimly lit lamp beneath the moon light,
Resulting in the two bodies casting elongated shadows against the dank Earth,
Followed by a larger body standing over them,
One body was completely still,
While the other one was rocking back and forth,
The terror that took me was shear and raw,
The only other time that I had witnessed such a fear,
Was through the appearance in a pig’s eye,
As my grandfather drove a machete through its heart,
I heard the second shot ring out,
In the same amount of time that it took me to blink,
The other man had been murdered just the same,
And before I knew it the gun was pointed at me,
I stared back and started shaking,
This had to be pure fiction,
But no, this was reality,
I turned to run, but stopped when I realized who it was,
Looking up at me as he exited the thicket and the shadows,
Was my cousin, my role model,
He cocked his head up and looked at me with concern,
But said nothing,
As I ran home breathlessly,
Under the holes into heaven,
That had been put there by bullets,
My childhood was finished…

And I'd never see him again.


Part II: Brother

I remember
That daze I felt those days
Those days that were fixtures
In my life at the time
But like all good stories
They come to an end
Sometimes abruptly

As a child,
I thoroughly enjoyed,
Playing around outside,
I enjoyed getting into play fights,
I loved feeling like I could overwhelm any opponent, but I couldn't.
My brother was way stronger than me,
He had the height advantage,
And best believe he had the weight advantage,
But still, I thought I could manage,
It never really crossed my mind that my brother was a bit off,
To me he was a big kid,
A quiet companion,
My best friend,
My heart.

That was more than enough,
Until one day I went too far,
See my brother had one toy that he loved,
It was string; he'd tear up clothes to make string,
He'd cry up storms at department stores if he didn't get his string,
He'd hit my mother and punch my father if he didn't get string,
I just always thought the exception was me,
I was his play mate, he smiled at me,
Something quite rare for my big brother to do as a result of his condition,
And the medication he was taking,
You see when a child has autism they kind of want to do their own thing,
They want to be on their own,
Enjoying whatever it is they enjoy doing on their time,
But I had a child's mind and a child's ego,
His toys were mine too,
Share with me,
Play with me,
Look at me,
ME, ME, ME!
So he punched me right across the face,
I went flying into a sliding paneled glass door and began crying,
When my mother entered the room,
She asked what was going on and tried to calm me down,
I wouldn't listen so she told me shut up before the neighbors called police,
And we were both taken away,
Being that my mother was a single parent, I believed her,
With that being the case, I closed my eyes and didn't look at my arm,
Nor the blood slowly dripping down it onto my fingertips,
Down to the floor below,
I didn't play much anymore after that,
I was too childish to blame myself,
So the fault was his.

The fault would end up being mine,
As this action being a culmination of things done by my brother,
Led my father and my mother to do what I thought was unthinkable,
They chose to let him go,
Giving him to a group home,
My young mind couldn't even begin to comprehend the pain they felt,
But to me all I could see was two adults giving up on their son,
I saw love and hope dissipate right in front of my eyes,
He was playing with his string in the back seat of the car,
While I sat beside him just watching him,
Saving every movement of his,
And his joy into my memory banks,
To be left to gather dust; because the pain was too much to harness,
But with respect I chose to re-open the chest,
And hold my brother in my arms once again,
Before he was ripped away from me,
And given away to the monstrous people,
That wouldn't let him hug his mother nor me,
I didn't care if this is what was needed to be,
I was losing my brother!
My blood!
My playmate!
My best friend!
My only friend!
My HEART!
It didn't matter that he hit me,
It don't matter if he hit my mother or father,
Because the beating my heart was taking was too much,
For my slim frame and still developing body to handle,
As such my growth was stunted and I gained heart problems,
On top of the asthma,
Autism meant nothing to me,
He was everything!

But it ended with me sleeping alone,
At home he was gone.


Part III: Father

I remember
That daze I felt those days
Those days that were fixtures
In my life at the time
But like all good stories
They come to an end
Sometimes abruptly

I never felt much towards you,
I was taught to love my mother solely,
As she was the one always there to heal my bumps and bruises,
The only memories I have of you from my childhood,
Are of you feeding me God awful food and teaching me to ride a bike,
But I forgot how to ride a bike,
And I could cook what you cooked on my own,
Burnt hotdogs, and pasta, and cereal never really fazed me,
Every other memory is a blur,
Your love was like a line or two painted upon a Mona Lisa of love,
That I had gathered from the various sources of inspiration in my life,
I could always gain appreciation for them,
But not for you.


As I entered my adult years,
You tried to make up for it,
I knew you had pent up guilt inside from not seeing me,
Yet you bought presents and rose up the seeds of another tree,
Seeds that I don't blame,
I only wanted to smell the same flowers that you gave them,
So you were trying to give them to me while I could still smell them,
But that sense was long gone along with my sense of sight,
Literally my vision was fading, but my mind was expanding,
As I was witnessing the world around me quite clearly, and the soul within me,
Just wouldn't release me, from the overwhelming feeling of needing you,
A father figure I could depend on,
A monument for what a man should be, and truly believe in,
As it comes to issues of morality, love, and loyalty,
Up until this point you had only taught me resentment,
Resentment leading to hate,
But I wanted to honor you in place,
So I hide the parts of me that you don't care to see,
I hide my relationships,
I hide my true feelings,
I hide my poetry,
Because if you found those things,
I would no longer be free,
And I refuse to submerge my soul into slavery,
Just for you to feel like you rose up the brightest son,
When truly the darkness is where I was brought up and where I belong,
Moonlight is the only thing I can touch with my pen,
As I compose the paintings residing in my head,
Of wordsmiths and demons battling,
Because words are my angels,
And they have always been there in every instance,
Whenever I've needed a piece of wisdom,
Or a calming presence that would come from the essence,
And recollections of stories of glory,
Stories that helped me forget you,
I love you, and hope our relationship can bloom,
But I no longer wish to speak on you.


Part IV: Mother

I remember
That daze I felt those days
Those days that were fixtures
In my life at the time
But like all good stories
They come to an end
Sometimes abruptly

I was taught to feel love towards you,
And it still remains as strong as ever,
From when I was a child,
Your sacrifice made my life exactly what it is,
Exactly what I needed it to be in order to grow and explore my soul,
To reach for my dreams,
You have always given to me,
Even on your last two cents,
Both would be for me,
You were my mother goose,
Even if I seemed like a young rooster,
Because we were always so different,
You always wanted to mold me into your vision of me,
While you instilled in me many things which cling tightly to me,
You've made someone completely different from what you expected,
I hold different views and truths that are separate from you,
Which is fine, but for a time it would keep me from being who I desired to be,
Because you could never cut the umbilical cord.

In fact, it was wrapped around my neck,
The death of me was coming slowly,
Due to the inhibitions of my creativity,
You loved that I would write, but you hated what I was writing,
Hip-Hop, home to me, was looked at as purgatory,
You couldn't see why I would want to listen to these stories,
Stories of struggling and hustling and juggling jobs, drugs, women, and friendships,
These ships were all sailing gallantly through my mind; the wordplay was so sublime,
And the fact that the words blended with their worlds were so unkind,
Appealed to me, but you were blind,
This changed my perspective,
However what really taught me to be a man,
Was when you began pushing opposing women out of my life,
I would be deep in love, buy-a-ring love,
But one thing would be enough to trigger a string of insults,
And a manikin-like regard for the person of whom I adored,
This was too much for me, you were systematically ending my dreams,
I thank you for your love and for everything that you continue to do for me,
But the cataclysm that was forming in this poets mind,
Was becoming too much to bridge,
If this feeling was to be ongoing,
So as a desperate act of love and care,
I left you behind,
But the love is forever there,
I'm a man because of you,
Your heart will forever reside with me on my journey,
You’ve no need to be frightened,
I’ve got you, I’ve got us,
My senses have been heightened.


Part V: Lover

I remember
That daze I felt those days
Those days that were fixtures
In my life at the time
But like all good stories
They come to an end
Sometimes abruptly

We met after a string of accidents,
Accidents that nearly cost me my life,
These were love losses, blood losses,
Things I’d never thought I could recover from,
The experiences had me going numb,
Until you found me… or did I find you?
It's hard to tell it just seemed like we were two lost souls,
Looking to quell our young hunger for the opposite ***,
Each and every day was spent together,
First on the stoop in front of your sister’s house,
The place where I first kissed your mouth,
Second on the park benches,
This is where hours flourished from minutes,
Third was along the streets of the world,
You were my diamonds and my pearls,
Indestructible and irreplaceable,
Once you met the paper you were there forever,
With that ink blood that flows through your veins,
A fellow poet whose love would stain my mental,
Instrumental in gifting my simple world with a new understanding,
It wasn’t how I imagined, but God laughs at notions of planning,
I finally found out what it meant to be in love,
I never had two people show me what it was,
Honestly the many descriptions of hate,
Is what would be seen at the gate of my consciousness,
As such, I believed this same fate would await me,
It was once the singular feeling with which I could relate,
But the euphoric hands you laid on me,
Made me lose an awake thought process,
As I was in a lake filled with your waters,
That would flow to rivers,
Followed by seas of your loving,
Seas consummating your body,
As I laid on the beach,
Believing it to be a dream.

But it wasn't, and it shouldn’t have ended,
In reality, love has ways of being reprimanded,
I was so lucid, and the picture was candid,
It was the simplest of pleasures that I'd ever been handed,
I learned right away the right things to do,
To flow from my heart and work my way into you,
To take care of my lips,
A rough kiss can't ******,
Nor find proper pleasure,
Along a woman's surface,
You’d allow me to peruse your mind,
Sending shivers up your spine,
As I embarked on my conquest,
Explorations of lustful aspirations,
Symbolizing and synthesizing,
Each and every stroke,
Representing a new letter,
In the alphabet of love,
Allowing our tale to unwind,
To combine the breathlessness of our exploits,
With our hearts desire for choice,
Which declined to lend voice,
To the greater work to be done,
The acquisition of newer positions,
Are symptoms of the journey,
Keep going, never surrender,
Be tender and conquer,
Mental foreplay is stronger,
Than any physical touch.

Love of a poet both bold and stoic,
Is a simplistic view of unfolded vibes and rhythms from the inside,
This could never subside to anything less than genuine spirit of heart and signs,
Among the winds, trees, stars, because you are the art,
You are Moses parting the red sea of my subconscious,
You are the dark sphere which encircles me,
You are the light that penetrates me,
You are harmonic melodies and sweet remedies,
You are rude symmetries and cool symphonies,
You are a lesson learned and an angel untouched,
With exception of me,
Hushed whispers or high pitched screams,
Mean nothing, without the mind following the body to finality,
The fluidity of our ****** motion,
Is a reflection of our mental state,
I seek not to pass through you,
I seek to become one with you.

That's how I feel about poetry,
That's also how I feel about ***,
That's how I feel about you,
You showed me the way,
You are my soul mate,
One with the words I write,
And the memories that I seek the convey,
You are the sun pouring through with the rain,
You are my miracle, one year my junior,
Fifty years older under the skin,
Deep within, your soul, my solar,
Not an eclipse, but a shimmering glow,
Always for my love and never for show.

I fall in love with people's honesty.
Their smile.
Funny jokes.
Tears.
Scars.
Passions.
Eyes.
Dreams.
Their spirit.

Word to Marley Soul.

Five steps in my growth,
Five indispensable cogs of my sou
Daniel Hunt Jan 2015
You are my fire
My titanic ocean
Your Love burns
Right through my
Very soul
Your love can purify me
Make me whole.
The wind of nature
Is like your Love
It's like no other
I've been thinking of
It Encircles me
Dynamically
Breathing upon my heart
Today
That I may inherit it's
Power
And I hear you say
"Come, Fill this vacuum
that your Love
Enslaves me
Cease this emptiness
That fills my soul
Only your love
Can save me
Give me life
Make me whole".
Please speak to
My heart today
Encourage my Love
Please don't delay.
Clear the vagueness
Which impedes me
Come enlighten my
Mind, Body and Soul
And the truth will only
Lead us
To the love that makes
Us whole.....
This is my Soulmate
traces of being Mar 2016
~ Moon Fire ~

de Luna climbs up
majestic fir brows
one rung at a time

to feel the shiver
of winter breeze
tickle higher
                         than treetops reach
.                                                          ­­                                            
where moonbeams
know the meaning
the shadows cast
upon the open palms
of nature’s hands

her halo encircles
a shapeless luster
beyond        
the faint whispers
in northern skies

wishing on
the nearest stars,
set ablaze
a smoldering heart
grown cold

as ...

the last winter moon
full and bright



wild is the wind © 2.22.2016
Fuego de Luna ~ Moon Fire
is a moment framed,
looking out my bedroom window
into the forest,
the final full moon rise
of winter
mesmerizing with a dreamful verve
percolating mercilessly within insomnia
paper boats May 2014
Starry night
Dark blissful sky
Flows from your fingertips
Encircles my words
Shaping them into pictures of you
Imprints my soul
Leads me into a beautiful trance
Whispering my name
And mesmerized
*I find solace in the moon.
From you have I been absent in the spring.....
Searching Apr 2011
Twisted reeds sway gently in the wind as black seabirds slice the sky overhead.
Waves rolling one by one crash with increasing ferocity on to the rocky beach,
And I watch the red sun set fire to the spray while  the tide encircles me.
Tugging at my feet, pulling me forward, it beckons for my consent. I give in,
And all is quiet even in such chaos. All is nightmarish and beautiful all the more.

The blood red horizon seers my retinas; freshly unleashed tears take to the sea.
These waves, such enormous swells, crash in on me; an unseen war is waging.
They press  me down and back, and then drag me further into the endless blue.
Over and over again, repetition loses count, my outcries die prematurely.
Only seawater and air manage to sputter from my lips, cracked and worn.

Not a whisper can be heard out here in such a true state of despair, but not all
Castaways are without faith. The past I once cherished has been lost to the depths,
Yet a knowing tingle in my gut keeps me searching for a message hidden merely
'Neath the surface. Drifting deeper into my pain, I notice a curious thing:  
The force of the waves lessening as I gracelessly surrender to Sorrow and the sea.

My feet torn by jagged rocks no longer felt, my eyelids blistered by the red
Eternal sunset, a few waves push me under before the siege of the sea falters and
I learn to ride the surf, taking each afront as it comes, whether predicted or
Suddenly upon me. My pain ebbs away slowly with the passing of each episode,
And with each wave I acknowledge my loss, relinquishing my burden.

Like so many desparinging hearts before me shipwrecked in the sea of tears,
I forcefully remind myself that one day the lush, inviting green shores of the
Other side of the sea will appear in my line of vision. Yet, for now, I let myself
Drift through the grief of grieving you, often unsure of whether I'm meant to float
Or should let myself sink toward the blackest crags of my mind. Here alone.
Copyright © 2011 Searching. All Rights Reserved.
Brendan Thomas Feb 2014
Darkness encircles my soul deep in Hell
Cut down on the battlefield, I died where I fell

Swirls of color and light, appeared when I passed
I was back at the battle, but now as a guest

Farther back still, we went through my past
Saw my mistakes, my pains, and my laughs

Now I know how I ended up here
I lived as a heathen and never knew fear.
Fahredin Shehu Apr 2012
Black
Empty cans
No liquid evaporated
In the air full of pride
Polluted grains of soul
Lost their consistency
Pure fluids of light
Erupts as marshmallow bombs
Death squad penetrates deeply
Aiming to meet Anubis
A Tsunami whirled its wish
Passion and glutton declared independence
The dream of becoming a parallel nation
To co-habit with leukemia of creativity
A *** drive 4×4 retired
A crippled veteran of passion
Bags for the mercy of soulless utilitarian army of human entity
Better said plankton a ****-plankton of miserable creatures
Even worms and larva are disgusted by our hatred
*****, a skunk of fear
An eclipse of love that spans for ages
From birth to death
A spectrum displays its ripeness
******* liberty as blast
A dazzling dance of shaped and amoeboid forms of manifestation
Truth
Bitter the honey with suffer
Powder a chamomile with royal jelly and ginseng
All of sudden a wind blows
Spores of the old pines
White
The soul of parallel nation of Angeloid
Is striving pleasure of life?
Lives now
Perpetually woofs a rainbow muslin with
the divine light
Inter-woofed dress
Newborn immaculate fellows
Perfuming
Oh those smell of paradise
Mint, Neroli, Oakmoss, Amber
A bouquet of divine pleasure
And Acacia kissed by a queen bee
Yes the queen of Enneagram
Of course
The work produces sweet essences
Oh Sarmouni of our Millennia
Melt the cataract-ic lance so they may see the beauty
Heal the flu so they may smell fresh ozone
A charged circle of light and love
Overwhelm
Remove the pulp from the reed
So may divine tune perform light?
Tao
May be your torchbearer
In the dark valley and by then you may
see a spectrum
That encircles an infant fear
For an eternal life
Yet I kiss that that time sequence
Where Jin and Jang harmoniously co-habit
I a Feng Shui of Love
Defragmenter of hate’s files
Zipper of dark matrixes
Arranger
So you may know they do exists
So you try them in order to enjoy the sweetness
of life’s honey
In this porcelain valley
Where goodness and mischief
Hand in hand are gliding furiously
Alas pure the morning with dew of love
Oxidize hate with apple vinegar
Sing to celebrate both solstices and have a cup of vine
That swoon you
That filters all starry
Cells of brain and ganglia
Perfume her navel with rosewater and kiss, kiss, kiss
Do a divine Tantra
With all visible and invisible and semi-visible spirits
Kiss topaz of her eyes
Kiss ruby of her heart
Kiss diamond of her nail
Kiss cooper of her feet ankle
Kiss jade of her bones
Kiss sapphire of her cells
And a flame-y waterfall of hair
And a silky *****…
Oh…kiss and kiss and kiss whatever belongs to her
Make her a necklace
With your purest and noblest spermatozoids
Then call her as you wish
Wisdom, Hikkmah, Sophia
Or simply Goddess that makes you Angeloid.
—-
Arabic for wisdom, we disregard language we are concentrated
on substance on quint essence
Greek for wisdom
Trevor Gates Jan 2013
It’s good to see you again.

We’ve been expecting you
Please
Sit.

Now…

Lights!
Orchestra!
Curtains!


Bringing forth nighttime lore, the charming chamberlain of Libertine plays
Summoning forth demonic myths, the illustrious weaver of unspoken entities
Dancing on memories, the enchanting fairy of skeletal trees
Sizzling behind magenta curtains, the voluptuous seductress of throbbing blood
Laughing at the potluck, the swollen headmaster of flab
Killing in the alleys, the inscrutable Ripper of Jack
Fornicating in the wild in the dragon’s keep, the ***** of Babylon

Swell the strings!
Blast the horns!
The cast is assembled

The symphony of sensational voyeurism
Yes, you in delight
Don’t deny your
Sacred rite
That’s right



Join my dear

Don’t be shy

Ascend the stairs

And come on stage



Good



Take my hand and venture now through the broken mirror of Assyria
The dunes of sands
Mounded and layered beneath the crisp blue sky

Not a single cloud
Not a single soul

Except for us

My dear
Feel the sand

It’s cool to the touch

The wind encircles your lush hair

The air feels and smells like the breeze of the sea

Where Athenian, white houses line the shores of this desert-sea world


Look up into the blue sky

Witness the open dome in the center

Above our head


Past the blues sky dome is the space between spaces.

Orange silk stars and red trimmed planets
Violet smeared nebulae and green morphing galaxy clusters

Float up to the top of the open space dome in the center of the sky

Reach out and extend your hand

As you touch, the area between this world and the next, ripples spread out from the imagery of the universe.

You touch water in the form of visual, ethereal paradise

The ripples of time expand like the vibrations of sound across the sky

Painting a new canvas of dripping oils and melting clocks



Close your eyes.

Your body hovers in the air

Far from the ground

And far from the person everybody knows


No matter how much a person perceives to know about another, there will be a part us that no one will ever comprehend.



Because to completely absorb the entirety of another life

memories

personality

thought process

dreams

Soul



Is incomprehensible

Inconceivable

Futile



A new world attrition
Through masturbatory perdition

A raging, unquenchable and suffering desire that plagues

The bold

The young

The old

The naive

The smart

The swift

The innocent

The ******

The addicts

The self-proclaimed purists

The self-proclaimed “good people”

“innocent people”

“trusted people”



We are all what we live for: a lie

A lie that consumes the norm

With invisible abnormalities

We are the blind

The deaf

The mute

The chained

The ignored

The punished

The poor

The dumb

The frightened

The dead



The end





Thank you for being here once again.  None of this couldn’t be possible without: Clive Barker, Iron Maiden, headphones, batman, duplexes, Salvador Dali, The hour of the Wolf, folding chairs, wool blankets, Silicone *******, chocolate icing, Bruce Campbell, 28 Days Later, true love, true grit, The seventh seal, black widow spiders, Vishnu and anyone else I forgot to mention.



Please come again.
Yes, yes I know you are probably asking, "How many of these entries are there?" . I couldn't say really, but hey stick around and found out. Let's see what my mind has to offer.  Probably not much, but is it quality or quantity that should out weigh each other? Boing! Hey look, Pizza.

No need to fret, protesters outside my window, this is now a declaration of war to your lives (or is it?), just a free verse/form writing exercise.  Till we meet again my Peeps, minions and droogs.
A deadly combination
Of lust, of passion, of love.
Deadly, poisonous, treacherous.
Worst of all, stupidly contagious.
Compassion for another because of another can’t exist,
suffocated by gyrating passion.
Passion serves one, not both…
Selfish, passion encircles the one consumed, feeding the addiction.
Addicts chase the high because for a little while the world is as it should be
In the eyes of the beholder.

Love sighs as the well runs dry.
Throw down the bucket as you may,
the water will not appear.
Acceptance is the hardest thing.
Giving up? Not at all.
Only people with nothing to gain can
Give up.
Accepting, letting go, moving forward.
The steps of progress in self-realization.
Leave behind the fire of love that
consumes the heart and ravages the mind,
preoccupies the body.
Chase that fire which refines.
I await to wake from this comatose state.
And so what if a merciless vapor encircles its fingers around me?
Your fingers are bright and can tear through the night and on that I am counting

An angel's rapport can give nothing more than being a counter
And so for you I will wait, a more timelier date, my dear yellow lantern

For though courage I lack, it's patience I have and your voice will keep me
Afloat and aloft, a beautiful face, so pristine and lovely
Seated beside you in a bicycle rickshaw,
eventide of your last New Delhi day
gathering itself all around us.

Silk from my sari encircles my head,
shoulders warmed by a winter shawl.
Your heavy beige mantle and dhoti,
frame a man as tall as a tree, at least to me.

There is no need for words.

I may have been singing a bhajan to you,
just quietly, as shop lights came on
in the deepening blue.

Perfection finds us in the briefest of moments.

Wherever you are now, timelessness
governs friendships formed
in the Land of the Veda.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
alles het verander
    my hart klop
       soos 'n arend
           wat hoog oor
                die see hang

haar vlerke uitgestrek
haar oog op haar prooi
         elke dag met
                   dankbaarheid
         vir alles wat
              die lewe omtrek

everything has changed
     my heart beats
         like an eagle
             that hangs high
                 over the sea

her wings outstretched
    her eye on her prey
            everyday with
                 thankfulness
            for everything
                 that encircles life
© jeannine davidoff 2011
written in afrikaans
Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary
Of lofty contemplation left to Time
By buried centuries of pomp and power!
At length—at length—after so many days
Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst,
(Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie,)
I kneel, an altered and an humble man,
Amid thy shadows, and so drink within
My very soul thy grandeur, gloom, and glory!

Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld!
Silence! and Desolation! and dim Night!
I feel ye now—I feel ye in your strength—
O spells more sure than e’er Judaean king
Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane!
O charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee
Ever drew down from out the quiet stars!

Here, where a hero fell, a column falls!
Here, where the mimic eagle glared in gold,
A midnight vigil holds the swarthy bat!
Here, where the dames of Rome their gilded hair
Waved to the wind, now wave the reed and thistle!
Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled,
Glides, spectre-like, unto his marble home,
Lit by the wan light of the horned moon,
The swift and silent lizard of the stones!

But stay! these walls—these ivy-clad arcades—
These mouldering plinths—these sad and blackened shafts—
These vague entablatures—this crumbling frieze—
These shattered cornices—this wreck—this ruin—
These stones—alas! these gray stones—are they all—
All of the famed, and the colossal left
By the corrosive Hours to Fate and me?

“Not all”—the Echoes answer me—”not all!
Prophetic sounds and loud, arise forever
From us, and from all Ruin, unto the wise,
As melody from Memnon to the Sun.
We rule the hearts of mightiest men—we rule
With a despotic sway all giant minds.
We are not impotent—we pallid stones.
Not all our power is gone—not all our fame—
Not all the magic of our high renown—
Not all the wonder that encircles us—
Not all the mysteries that in us lie—
Not all the memories that hang upon
And cling around about us as a garment,
Clothing us in a robe of more than glory.”
Pride Ed Nov 2014
Baby-dolled eyes,
and glamor velvet
encircles
with a cruel femininity;

the darkest pin-up
of your
diamond-dazzled
dreams always takes
it up a notch!

It’s all burlesque
and whispers
when you come into her
world of mirrored
desire that
plays just behind
her lips;

that dances just behind
her rhinestone mask.

The vampiress of
merlot, cigarettes,
and lace
always remembers
her prey;
a black-widow’s
striptease, cold
and calculated.

Again, she delights
in the fact
that she has broken
another man
she invited
in to her ruthless
masquerade.
For another prompt at allpoetry.
Ana Kruscic Oct 2012
Let me humbly introduce to you Lee,
A Mortal servant with much to see,
Yes that's right, Mr.Hegsten knew it all:
The risk of rising before the fall;
How the Light's mask brought a yawn,
One to applaud for prior to dawn.

The six o'clock spring P.M, jolly celebration for a true king
But who of course? None other than Lee's most desired, Lapwing.
Seph waves his wand, the desk beneath him trembles a victory
The shadow of his picture, believes it is contradictory,
To the one lost love, to the frozen life of long ago...
But the mid hour does not recall his callous beau.
Because she now remains, as his traitor, his foe.

The feathers flitter and the sound escapes,
And in the distance, you could see the shapes
Of the Wind turning and the leaves changing,
Leist' face and the lines nearly aging,
From deep-rooted stubborness, no one could persuay
Gehen to attend his dreams, and leave the light of day.

"Y. Step away from that baton and come give me your hand.
We can spend the day inside, sure it's small and crammed,
but we have each other, look, we can turn on the gramophone
and dance alone in my living room, all without a chaperone!"
The words still whisper in the birds narrow wind,
but each time reaching Kejodin's ear, very much thinned.

"But I have gotten off track", says the mighty Redshank,
as she encircles the swelling of the pure white cloudbanks.
Lee lets down his pen, and closes his well-rehearsed book,
The notes firmly pressed in Hegston's shiny round hook.
"Do not answer to the call of a yawn,
Each downward head is a moment gone!
Without the Moon's curse, our lives-doubled
and our immortality, is left almost untroubled!"
With three taps on his music stand,
Commencement for the falling sand.

Thunder in the air-- no wait, it's a brass bark
Opening lines performed by most esteemed: Skylark.
The audience, is one in total behind Lieg Stehen's back
She stands behind him, silent in the harmonious black.
The last Soprano sounds a dark whistle through a rusty pipe,
Stehen motions the break of silence from gusty Madame Snipe.
With an inviting warm brown eye, Lieg beckons the timpani
With one echoing stroke, he concludes time-defying Sephany.

"It was you, you the conductor,
You stood between two crowds,
And you chose one to impress the other.
But now you've seen the clouds,
Is there anything left to discover?
Except the cloth of your shrouds?
These notes cannot warmly cover."  

"I've lived far longer than you,
Many an itcus I've come to cue,
My heart and mind remains stronger
No one can say that they have lived longer,
I'm sorry Tes, but I've prospered over you
the happy one loved was not worth the Coo
Over the words that to you were Adieu.
I've lived with half a soul and it was right,
Because unlike you, life has taught me to fight."

Madame Lenhige Stood over Y.'s spirit,
and she grew aware to openly fear it,
because Mr.Kejodin left behind his key,
the only item he swears set him free,
She knew he had not left her forever,
because you see, it did not matter, where ever
though the night did not solve, his child's mother
she and him belonged solely to one another.
Ghazal Oct 2012
The fortress is soundproof no more,
And the voices I had once blocked out,
Are creeping in, seeping in, towering over me,
They accuse me, they shout.

Peaceful silence marred by vengeful shrieks,
Blissful ignorance quelled by demanding questions,
Pristine air darkened by black tears,
And surrounded by all, I stand in the centre.

A spotlight of love-turned-ugly encircles me,
And for the first time, I feel insecure, alone.
I take my hand and place it on my chest,
Trying to feel, in vain, my heart of stone.

Silent  heart.
Pulselessness.
Vacant chest.
Airlessness.

Such a curse- this emotionless machine
that swells up on others’ despair!
The robotic pump that never breaks down,
That’s never needed any healing or repair.

I hear the frantic beats of all the hearts
I stomped upon, nonchalantly broke.
Then, smothered by the darkness of my own being,
I gasp and wheeze, I choke.

When will my veins distend with passion?
When will my heart spout unhindered blood,
And add into my lifeless existence-
Fire and pleasure, pain and love?

I’ll unlock now, these strong iron gates,
And stand outside into the hot, harsh light,
I’ve been huddled up in the dark all my life,
I’ll expose my soul now, to set my wrongs right.

And for the one-
Who’ll unfold, unfurl, enter, penetrate,
And my stony abrasiveness, slowly grate-
I’ll tear open my chest, and silently wait.
Elaenor Aisling Nov 2021
TW: Rpe, Sucide
.
.
.
.

Dionysus wipes his hands
With a wine dark-cloth,
His bar the confessional booth, for gods and mortals.
The absinthe green of his eyes loosens tongues
until their sins fall from their mouths like snakes and stones,
clattering onto the tarnished marble bar.
The stinking incense of each dog-eared dollar,
sustains him in its foul smoke,
the muttered prayers over empty glasses
chants and cries and pains and joys
Falling over each other like drunken feet,
Weaving themselves into stories
He recounts to Ariadne in the morning
As she folds laundry, and he does the dishes.
The threads of small mortal lives hanging around them untethered.
His patrons check their best at the door, he knows this,
Welcomes it,
He still has the best wine in the city
Even if they ***** it into the storm drain outside.

Asclepius stops in after his 12 hour shift
Eyes haggard
The blood of an attempted suicide on his scrubs,
the pull of a thousand witnessed deaths curled around his hip flexors,
Trying to drag him down with every step.
Still, he moves like a snake through sand,
The soundless strength of his movements
Ripple a wake of quietness, hallowed calm
On the floor they call him gentle giant
Always ask him to work full moons.
Artemis never did like him,
But the mortals are stilled
Under his hands.
Cracked and dry from over-washing
His knuckles bleed when he reaches for his glass.
At home Epione will take them in hers,
Rub lotion into the palms with the pad of her thumb, working her way in concentric circles all the way out, tenderest on the backs of his hands and their maze of scales and interstices,
The strong cherry-tang scent of almonds rising from their fingers.
At work sometimes he will feel the ghost of her touch
Crave it, as the sanitizer and soap smart against his skin,
This is an old intimacy they have always shared—the meeting of fingers, the firm pull of her thumb against palm,
And sometimes the way she traces the faded green lines of the serpent tattoos that twine around his forearms,
The slow caress of her index finger, the tiny scrape of her nail
Until her hand encircles his neck, cradles the serpent’s head
And she leans in to kiss him.
He will go home to her in an hour
When he is warm from the whiskey
And his mind is a little softer,
Some of the blood washed away.
He sighs,
Men are curing men
But they always find new ways to **** others
and themselves.

Athena’s seat is in the back, near the fire escape,
Where the shattered vinyl of the seat
Scrapes her thighs like desert sand.
Steel eyes to the door,
She gulps ***** neat.
After her second deployment, it’s the only thing that stills her hands.
Her pearled teeth gnaw the end of a burned cigarette—
If she chews hard enough,
the tobacco replaces the taste of her staff sergeant’s tongue, his breath, his blood.
Bodies in the dark, the vice-gripped wrists,
She bit, she clawed, she kicked,  
the muscles weakened by so few prayers
the dim fire in her eyes could not muster a single flash,
a flintlock in rain,
and she was another nymph, another Cassandra—
No one believed,
no one believed.
She can still feel Cassandra’s arms locked around her calves,
hear Ajax’s guttural grunts,
she understands now.
But for her there was no temple, no statue,
She tries to cling to herself,
But falls away to dust,
The guttural grunts of the staff sergeant echo as
The memories drag her, screaming, across her bedroom floor
Poseidon cannot drown them,
Only ***** can
And no one believes,
No one
believes.
Goal was to write a modern interpretation of Greek gods and goddesses. Title drawn from Niel Anderson's album/song.
Sawyer Gowans Jul 2013
Young, strong, And eager. The stallion drinks of the blue green waters. Ripples of tranquility lapping over him. He drinks in this new place, so fond of feelings that coarse through him. So fond of the peace that encircles this land.

Young, beautiful, And pure. The rider slides from atop her stallion. She lands softly, her feet sticking, catching her as they have countless times before. She ties her stallion to the old post and kneels drinking of the mesmerizing waters herself. She stands and fades off, exploring the beauty of the place.

Old, tired, And lonesome. A dusty scene materializes. A dried up waterhole left battered by the prying hands of time. Buzzards sit picking apart the final remains of a frail skeleton, still shackled to the old post he once knew well. The last drop of murky grey water sits beside a pair of one way tracks, laid down years ago.

Beauty comes and beauty grows but in time the dust will always blow.
Janette Aug 2012
When the moon winks behind the bare branches of winter, reaching for snowflakes with its tongue,
Shadows smile in dark shatters, quietly invading the fluttering of dream;
A stain of crushed rose petals....a sigh, pure as baby skin…innocent as ivory, encircles,
And I feel his breeze, undress me as clouds reveal a waning moon, the red mantra of January, opens this rose to shadow,
My heart, an empty bell, hushes the pause that keeps my pulse caged to his eyes...





Dreams still heavy, flow upon ebon, a whisper-kiss breathing desire;
In the hush of shadows he stirs, ******* destiny, where the shine parts my lips, finger-touching the moon within my soul;
Seducing my skin with his whispered sigh, reaching out, caressing phantom songs, dancing skycircles, shaking midnight from my hair;
Eyes that sparkle-ache wildness in me, while I lay naked in his arms, wrapped around the warmth of kiss,
My crushed lips gasping softly...




  
Gentle breezes buffet bare flesh, wandering the lines of a smile, breathing silver-whispered pleas,
"Show me heaven tonight"
Bleeding my silk into a  whisper of rapture, stilled in hues of emerald hush;
As fingertips reach, tenderly into the palette of my soul, beyond the shadowed eclipse, where essence lingers in the perfume of delicate winds,
Swaying me gentle, slender into the deep of ache, trickling from that sacred place; quickening the shiver-burn.
The fire of his lips on mine, pink with full moon dilation...





Fingers like clouds, shroud my milky spires, wind-swept aches pound my soul, tantric rhythms, fly to destiny;
As breath is caught in arcs of awakening, where I fold, surrendered beneath inferno;
Errant whispers tattoo my heartbeat, under his skin;
And whimpers pare curves as yearning quakes the ground beneath us, and we dance a language; arabesque on tongues,
His lips trace my *******, my thighs teased, open, waiting for the touch of his kiss on swollen desire,
Where his mouth dances warm, moist...and my legs stretch; yielding...consumed, on fire, under fire....





I have crossed into him, merging the hot-melt of seam, woven on the threshold of silence,
Love transcending  flesh as it falls; tumbling , fluttering, beating the air to shift my sighs,
I whisper soft, twining his moan, tasting infinite sweetness, in his spill;
Lost in him, where I will always be.. never questioning why or how,
Just relishing the beauty, delighting in the mystery of US........
Touch me deep...feel the soft slick glide of my skin against your own...... press body to body in shadows of moan...reach for me with hands that leave soft ribbons of desire....your breath painting longing in swirls of need over the soft curves of my flesh...spinning me out of control....and watch me....... melt like golden-brown honey in the palm of your hand..... J
Hannah Franke Mar 2012
Where are the prisoners?
Where are the guards?
Watching. Ever watching.

Light floods this cubicle, and
Shadows entangle themselves in my sheets, while
The omnipresent and intangible eye gazes.

Devoid of visibility, only
The gloom confides in me.
The power of perfection entrapped in a hoop.

Our ring encircles the guardian, who
Is invariably stalking.  Plagued
Are the confined and deserted lepers.

But what of the locks?
Locks?  The tower is our bolt.
The eye will find the madman.

Madness is also our disease,
Guilt triumphs over futile attempts, the
Belief is our ideology.

Indisputable solidity becomes imaginary, while
The goal is communal. We must,
Survive in a personal Panopticon.
Jayantee Khare Nov 2018
a lamp lit for sweet memories
a lamp for golden dreams
a lamp for high hopes
a lamp for loving bonds

forget not to lit a lamp
for divine blessings
the lamp must for
diwali celebrations

sparkling life pure hearts
full of health and wealth
abundance showers
harmony empowers

one lamp for this world
one lamp for our mother land
may this series of lamp encircles all
may the lamp enlightens all
MikeTheVike Nov 2017
...

Set   Fire   to   the   beach!

T h e  c r u e l  s u n  c r i e d.

While the edge of the earth

licked it's rays with the tide

his skin like a paper; it peels and curls and cracks
the heat like a vapor; it seals and swirls and traps
                     i t s e l f    i n s i d e    h i s    c e l l s                          
                                     ­    

   a virus encircles above                    
                
                                               ­       just a seaside paloma        

                 i m p r e g n a t i n g  skin                                              
          ­                                  
                              ­                      with malignant melanoma        
                                  

his doctor like a butcher; with hands he chops and stains
his pain like a structure; it stands and burns and caves
i n      o n      i t s e l f

Set   fire   to   his   cells!

The   cruel   chemo   cried

while the wicked bag of morphine

dripped drops at his side


...
© Mike Mortensen
Ben Jan 2014
a halo of expanding hopes, dreams, and life

a crimson teardrop, tribute to the fallen one's strife

encircles the head of an angel without wings

a splash of color to these dark streets it brings



porcelain skin, cold as the night's bitter kiss

spiderwebbed with cracks, seeping cool mist

this angel was once a most beautiful thing

bright cut emerald eyes, hair black like raven's wing



the angel in past had lived, loved, and laughed

how tragic this scene, that it could not last

for the angel dreamed flying, to touch the moon

but these dreams awoke jealousy, plotting, and doom



you see, in the city where this angel did live
i
t was mechanical, heartless, and did not forgive

run by the hateful human machine who could not fly

confined to the earth in a rage it would cry



"who is this angel to be different from us?!"

hate did consume it like mechanical rust

it sought a way to grind her into the gears of the machine

"since she is not like us, we'll **** her will to dream"



with that they commenced to wicked dark things

captured the angel and cut off her wings

broken and torn, they left the angel to the dust

content to proclaim "she is now just like us"



but the angel could never assume human form

unable to fly, she could not weather this storm

the moon in the night sky, silver and fair

taunted her mind, dreams turned to nightmare



confined to the ground, humanity rotted her mind

great beauty now gone, with decay left behind

lost to the madness, driven to the edge

the angel, a mere shadow, stepped to the ledge



porcelain skin, cold as the night's bitter kiss

spiderwebbed with cracks, seeping cool mist

the angel looked to the moon, once loved, in the sky

stepped forth, and though wingless, for a moment could fly



for though the hateful human machine

had taken her will to live, love, and dream

it could never break her call to be free

the angel found an escape from this cruel place to be
William A Poppen Dec 2012
Metal softly clinks on ceramic.
Fingers joggle embossed grip,
elevate blades toward moistened hide.

Darkness covers the corner
opposite antique coaster bed
disheveled by fitful sleepers.  

Her hair, twirled into tangles
flows on the pillow, nasal noises
mask the music of his movements.

Any light might arouse her,
awakening her to revive
last night's squabble.

Their endless feud
over contentions long forgotten  
encircles their days.

Blades glide over chin and cheeks.  
Shaving quietly in darkness
avoids anger in the morning.
Strong critique encouraged
Poetic T Nov 2014
I turn each off looking behind
For with each light extinguished
The darkness spreads forth
Obscured
Blackness
Dimness
Between the realms, one retreating
The other Greedily filling in,
I walk up the stairs, feeling its
Presence,
Imprint,
Impression
I feel it upon my back
For the light in front Darkness climbing,
Feeling its essence ascending
As it grasps my shoulders, to take me back,
But with a each chiselling upon me
There is just a feeling of presence
Faster I walk,
Cushioned
In
Light,
But as I turn the last essence of white,
Darkness encircles me as I lay quietly
Serenity,
Stillness,
Tranquillity,
I lay motionless, my heartbeat is the
Only presence of sound, my eyes perceiving
All around, and the final darkness I see
Is when my eyes close, and I fully embrace
The darkness, and all was consumed by the **night.
Laokos Oct 2019
the closeness of
my soul is
upon me
with the
right music

the body eats
and eats
and
eats - i can't
help but
feed it

the heart cries
and sings
between each
stranger it lets
in

madness encircles me
like a kettle
of raptors

my spirit reeks
of death
and
the genesis birthed
from it

the greatest
opportunity to
develop and
grow beyond
my tired limitations

i am not
done yet . . .
Found on the date of nine – two – three – two – oh – one – seven -
Barely more than one month after the grand eclipse of heaven
The revised twelve stars of Leo crown the head of the ******.
In her land of milk and honey, her labors merge in.

Jupiter encircles the womb while within the Holiest of gastronomes.
Mercury, Mars and Venus conjoined with Leo’s nine making the dozen.
Seventy-five days prior the New City’s Trumpet has merged with Put In
Calling for Levant’s retribution which will divide ancient Ebian within.

The ******’s head newly crowned with the temporal twelve stars of Leo,
At her feet quiver the sun and moon awaiting the arrival of Palladio.
She being with child cries in the pain to deliver.
The earth quickens the mystery in perfected position, as both quiver.

Nine months prior the consummation completed by NATO’s resolution
Casting out the promised land – this is real – this is not the imagination.
Jubilee last appeared on the eave of the six day war
Marked by half centuries, Jubilee returns this year once more.

The revelations of tribulation are set by a single star that does always appear
Every two thousand years and four thousand years ago it founded Israel.
Two thousand years ago this same star led the three kings to the king of all kings.
This star is visible for two years and appeared in September two thousand and fifteen.

And yet another sign appears in the heavens: behold a great fiery Red Kachina
Having seven followers and ten outcasts with seven headbands in the arena.
The Red Kachina drawing in a third of the stars, hurling them toward the earth.
This Kachina standing at the ******’s feet waiting for her to give up the birth.

The Red Kacina’s vile evilness waiting to consume Jupiter’s birth failing
To devour the newborn who is to lead all nations with a rod of iron.
But the child remains in the heavens with it’s mother to feed grazed
By the Red Kachina for one thousand two hundred and twenty six days.
Do you believe in prophecy. I'm not sure that I do. All I can tell you is that I have these dreams. I get up and try to write them down. I've decided to share some of them. You can find many of the words in this piece in Revelation in the Bible if you care to take the time to look them up and read them.
Ashen hair encircles her head,
And a face that could do with a wash.
Yet above the chipped teeth and the grimy brown hands,
Sits, throned, a crown of gold.

A waltzing skirt, trimmed with ribbons of dust,
A bruise of an amethyst hue,
She mutters the stories to ***** grey walls,
The girl with a crown of gold.

The peasants awake, splitting heads, withered throats,
From their bedbugs and blankets and beer.
The princess stands firm, she will not be moved
From her crack-mirrored bathroom seat.

The peasants are worse than usual this morn,
But you have to expect that from them.

The mirror reflects, in its own shattered way
The torn, crushed crown of gold.

There once was a prince, in this faery land.
A baby too brave for his good,
A trip away, up the silent back stairs.
                             -
They can't batter his new crown of gold.

The streets try to drag her back into the world,
But she only sees carpets of red.
In a fairytale land where no evil is seen,
Sometimes paper's more precious than gold.
what is this unholy distress
that even words
seem unable to soothe?
instead it inflames them;
poisons them -
turns my ideas into a malicious brood
that commands
every ounce of my attention today
i would
if i could
pluck out this bitter vine
that encircles me sinuously
growing within me
as if born from a mystery seed.
unhindered it occupies every crevice in my brain
finding its way
into every sense, every act
every thought.

but then I think
a complete life
cannot be all sweet.

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   30.01.2013
   Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
I am escaping by boat
and eradicating the ropes
that kept me bound to your suffering
in limbo she waits for her heart to be recognized
tired of this drawn out sequence
all she wants to do is rest
pushed beyond the edge of exhaustion
she knows she can’t go on like this indefinitely
will she swallow her pride and admit her tiredness
or will she yield to the pressure of her mind
and push blindly on against her body’s better judgement
what a presumptuous question
the stolen answers are ubiquitous
sleep confounds you
surrounds you like a blanket
i am awake
waiting for my release into the ethers
ethereal tears stream down your face
i say grace and drift upon clouds of memory
and fragments of emotion
what a mystery how we escape the most fragile feelings
only to return to childhood memories
that linger on our tongues like the taste of cotton candy
sand and sweat fill the space of your nightmares
share them with your neighbor
and become the avant-garde artist you always dreamed about becoming
what’s more important to you anyway
faith or family

sandpaper or cigarettes
do you persist in coming clean
or would you prefer to lounge on lawn chairs and living room furniture
the carpets were just steamed
and so were these greens
with spines and volumes of identifying marks
strike the match and let the spark illuminate the darkness of our misconceptions
no exceptions to love
only lovers crying out for hungry minds
the fire encircles us
turns us purple
love is merging through the haze
stage 1 begin to undress
stage 2 do it all again

serpents painting along the corridors of our houses
sound and flowers persecute the daughters
who waited too long for you to grow up
alone in empty basements
a passionate silhouette among the flowers and field mice
streams of tears cascading like waterfalls down their rocky faces
spraying wind and wave
staying cool yet safe
all our hearts are standing still
on the edge of a needle
billions of beings dance in turmoil
strolling through volcanoes on a windy afternoon
monsoon weather equals heaven’s idea of a joke

shake me till i bleed
bleed me till i come to a boil
i’ll follow the diagonal road
under crossroad’s formidable abode
swift like the lion on the savannah
i’ll trade you a banana for a band of gypsies
simply delirious she spent her allowance on tea and ornaments
the scent of cattle
a magic rattle made from bone and pebbles
the shells were held at right angles
and lined their faces like the frame around a picture
the pages in the book were yellowed by time’s ***** fingerprints
a hint of irony
a humorous blunder
some people stare while others are perplexed by their own wonder

i speak volumes in my thirties
a missile of connection and yes i am planning to get *****
and women come for miles to hear these words of beauty
they taste the herbs inside them and dance within their nighties
a flute in the woods called you back home
and sent you on a journey through thorn and bramble
we stumbled into each others arms and made haste for the carriage that would take us safely beyond
Olivia M Jackson Jun 2010
The only place I feel safe
When the world has become cold
When all else has failed me
You're the only one that still stands
When wondering this earth alone with not a place to call my own
Not a friend with a shoulder to cry
Not a place with a solace to seek
It is you that finds me
Embraces my soul within
Comforts the turmoil that encircles my existence
Providing your assurance
Your assurance to never deposit more on me than I can bear
Enveloping me as I realize I am naught but mortal man
Cradling me as my essence cries out in affliction
Your peace takes hold of me
Ushering me into your perfect will
Breathing strength into the chambers of my heart
Holding me, I am constricted in your sight
Shielding me in the shadows of your wings
I hear angelic whispers as I lay lethargic
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me
Angel wings gently brush against my face
I awake to find all that I am is in all that you are
All of my burdens are cast upon you
My sorrows you have taken
Your serenity you have given
Freely upon me your love eternal now resting
© 2010 Olivia M. Jackson
Stephan Jul 2016
.

Looking on
this expanse that encircles me,
closing in during open hours,
unlocking doors I can’t seem to walk through
Stairways of rotted, termite eaten steps
each with my name painted on them,
creaking underfoot,
losing to the weight of
long lines at self serve counters
wrapping around as if
nothing is free but here
for some reason it is

And I stand right in the middle
alone in this ocean of faces,
polo shirts and penny loafers
staring at cell phone screens,
calling someone,
talking with their hands,
hands free?
Paying it forward,
coffee for the next guy in line,
but not me

For I am just here, anywhere,
somewhere like this,
a thing plopped down,
fallen from the sky,
splattering on the earth,
consumed by the soil,
muddied footprints and all
trudging through the wilderness,
carving a path of existence
breaking branches and
scattering bread crumbs

Still I am me,
standing tall among the taller,
enjoying the shade,
sipping lemonade and eating apple dumplings,
pushing, not pulling forward,
dreaming, (of course)
regardless of tire tracks and scars
or pointed fingers,
Pounding the pavement,
laying a foundation,
driven beyond

Parking lot base,
asphalt themed destinations,
a checkerboard of last rites and dead batteries,
yellow lines on the horizon,
handicapped up front
Looking out over the valley,
watching the world go by,
admiring the beauty,
loving life,
rejoicing in the fact
that it is all so immensely
vast . . .

as am I
Kyle Kulseth Mar 2015
From the top of the Terminal,
your size was splayed out,
a grey **** carpet for the Red River Valley.
And The Forks right beneath
                      our weary walkers' feet
was a thick drop setting up in the center
of your ash grey forehead.
Traced a thumb down Taché and St. Mary's
to the peak of your left cheek on Fermor.

Your traffic light glance blinked us
                    right to a stop
as blue bomb thoughts and temperatures dropped
at the base of our minds
and your wide, widow's peak sky
formed a cold iron bruise 40 minutes past 5.

I've held your muddy diamond eyes
in mine, how many times?
And you'd sigh, sometimes
         from your North End scar,
but the Assiniboine bends around Wellington Crescent,
a stifled, spiced laugh from the failed rebellion
of your Province's youth.
          And you know I'm no novice
to the uncouth barbs of the Winter,
'cuz you wrapped asphalt arms
                                       nice and tight
'round our shoulders.

Osborne & Morley for an A-frame embrace.
The face of a city, its wrinkles a sketch
of laugh line drives for donuts and coffee.
Crows' feet stretched through The Exchange.

We followed your grin
                from
corner to corner,
from Richardson Airport
to Transcona Yards; one earring a lifeline,
the other, steel bones.
From your St. Norbert chin,
to your twin St. Paul crown,
we would wander,
kiss your River East temple
                  then call it a night.

I have names for every smile you gave me:
Vi-Ann in the Village,
The Toad in the Hole,
St. Boniface Cathedral, that first time
in deep snow.
                 I want you to know,
               you frozen Great City,
your terrible beauty is written on me.

Each side-slanted grin I shared with your sidewalks
               encircles my history now,
                          even still.
Fill an eye with 5 years
                of joyous, drunk laughter
which seeds your purple sand sky with fog ghosts.

Still-frame your patchwork, frostbitten face--
the Perimeter Highway's a jaunt-angled toque;
                                           keeps you warm--
I still wear you
           when late Autumn light takes me back.
At first, I kinda thought this one was gonna ****. Now, I kinda like it. Though I never really *intended* it this way, it seems I've sort of ended up composing a series of pieces about/related to Winnipeg, MB, Canada and the people I know/experiences I've had there. I'd say it sort of began (I thiiiink?) with "Re: Bells, My Note," which I still think is the best thing I've ever written...At any rate, while I love writing these ones, I think this will probably be the last of its kind that I write (at least for the time being), as I think this one ties them all together nicely and I want to avoid getting entirely too trite with them. Cheers.
Hayley Anders Jan 2014
Raindrops running down the window at a quickened pace,
Like tears down a face
Thunderous roar of the wind,
Block out the cries,
Of  another girl who fell out of grace

Flashes of light brighten up the sky
Lighting up the face of a boy so shy
Clouds cover everything,
As darkness encircles
It hides all lies


The storm has pasted
Bringing light to an outcast
The sun shines,
With rainbow colors above all heads
But this storm won't be the last
Puffing from de chalice
I breathe the holy smoke
In JAH there is no malice
HE gives me only hope

I once was lost
Like an island boy at sea
I once was blind
But through HIM, I now do see

Yes, I was a bald head
Working for the man
But when my locks grew thick with dread
I saw the lord JAH's plan

HE set for me a holy task
and gave me herb to smoke
Within HIS holy light I bask
from HIS bush I ****

To spread HIS love across the earth
that is my only joy
and once HIS love encircles its girth
will I cry tears of soy.
Embrace JAH and he will embrace you. Embrace Babylon and find yourself cold and bald.
Slipping through the willow curtain
Easing among the leafy overhang
Green sheltering cloak that sways
With an invitation to be my guest

I pass through, broaden my peripheral vision
Turn my cheek and my eyes lock
Pulled toward fierce or friendly
Mottled door, camouflaged grey as a stone

I swivel to listen before leather soles
Respond and move me without guard
I feel fear, uncertain to obey my instinct
Ruining the scene for the ticket holder

The choice it seems is taken from me
Though temporal, the entrance hides...it is coy
The gatehouse of resistance clangs
Its repertoire stumbles but my vision

Knows its route....the pathway falls away
And unwillingness encircles me like a bear hug
I cannot turn or go back, the door makes way
To tumbling steps gaining their advantage

Driven pathway recedes and I stalk the
Shadowy shapes that spill out to paralyse
Locking me to the wall
Solid and comforting yet stalling

The dreaded moment of choice
Invites its gangsters to dine with me
The here and now overwhelming
Its clues forlorn and disadvantaged

Rounding the dark corner of courage
I strengthen my resolve, and
Claim the light I so desire
It throws open a vivid saffron

Vibrant colour penetrates, seeping into me
I wade through this maze of superb
Splendour and I am feathered to the ground.
Book in hand … I gaze toward the.....
                                                           Willow Curtain

— The End —