"encounter" poems
#*It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search
for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security,
freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence—
out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden—
that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves.
Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise,
taking away our fear and shame and isolation.
We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there.
We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it,
and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter.
He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells
to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us.
Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep
aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods.
When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated,
for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally
make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds,
and once again we are left to feel naked but without fig leaves to cover us.
It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out,
that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate
fullness and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is
everything we have been so desperately wanting.
It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight
of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally
begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them,
pleading with Him to come and capture us,
crying out to Him to possess us fully.*#
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:58 PM UTC
*i always imagine you so very graceful
through the masochists ordeal
a god form of supplication
seeing your face
in love
fascinated by shimmering kisses
that hurt, yet please
wet lips and sharp teeth
glamors that excite
cold blade licks dragged across
tender bellies
naval
buttocks
and flexed toes
stinging
then radiating outwards
wounds become lilies
mouth *******
tremulous weeping kisses
ecstatic cruelties
blood glitter sacrifice
your supplication
love pangs
i'm shaking apart over you
your countenance
a cascading dream
moved to tears of adoration
your limitless
yielding
like surrenders caress
an infinite communion
with fragile limbs
silky wrapped spools
innerness of desire veiled in a shroud
a faltering star that glistens crimson
nymph of purgation
ash volcanic
cells en-flamed with tongues that bite
subsumed in scented vapors
a confection of **** and ***
waves embrace ineffable shores
passed the discontinuity of life
I have the most immense feeling of love for you
am i not
the saint death
quietly following you
through life's labyrinth
innocuous
waiting humbly in the wings
i am all ache for you
a vice of kisses
a brief encounter
that eats your sight and senses
ushering you to immortal freedom
a swooning garland of fire that enlivens
the body electric
a mist of molecules
your tears intoxicate
i am new life with in you
budding embryo
that consumes its mother for nourishment
and saturates like dew drops
as it echoes through oblivion*
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
#*It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search
for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security,
freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence—
out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden—
that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves.
Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise,
taking away our fear and shame and isolation.
We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there.
We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it,
and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter.
He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells
to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us.
Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep
aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods.
When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated,
for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally
make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds,
and once again we are left to feel naked but without fig leaves to cover us.
It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out,
that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate fullness
and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is everything
we have been so desperately wanting.
It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight
of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally
begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them,
pleading with Him to come and capture us,
crying out to Him to possess us fully.*#
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
“When an injured athlete urge a comeback to field for love of game, his vulnerability toward previous muscle wound hinder his mental ability to go on with a full swing. Though, same rule implicate for people who hold bleeding pen to draw alphabetic emotions”
Yesterday I met one of those fragile birds. She carry fractured pen fingers under her beautiful skin, has curious eyes with strange shyness and a touched heart. The pursue of selflove somehow quelled her creative charm. I never expected to encounter someone so likeminded. She put away her pen to avoid emotions, identically similar reason made me quit this so-called ability which once lured bunch of close friends and many others who never knew the face behind these emotionally colored pages...
Wish I could feel her feathers and let her touch my scars, but her shivering Fragile Soul stopped me to become a...
‘Bad Boy She Craves For...’
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 3:35 PM UTC
To love Jesus is to long with Him
But that longing is not enough
There is a need
*To structure our lives *
Around spending time with Him.
To desire also means to be disciplined
And then, we found ourselves
Delighting in the Lord.
It captures the essence
Of what it takes
To develop a consistent devotional life.
You can be motivated with great desire,
But without discipline
You will never get there
Discipline positions us
To receive grace;
Discipline is not grace
It is the submission of our heart
To encounter the grace of God.
It is not about whether God loves us —
His love is sure
Whether we are disciplined or not —
But it is our wholehearted response
To Him that allows us to find Him.
One must delight in the Lord
And shear every misfitting
And earthly delights.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
A lifetime ago, I was younger like you,
before my dreams faded and life was still new.
I wish I knew then, all that I know now,
I wanted our life but didn’t know how.
I settled for less and tried the right things,
and cashed in my soul for all that it brings.
I’ve made my mistakes, like others before,
forgiveness more fleeting, ‘til you closed the door.
Waiting for answers, I went into shock,
you left me no choice but to turn back the clock.
I walk this new path while finding myself,
forgetting our past is best for my health.
As I move along, a decade removed,
my body more fit now to go with my mood.
I realize by now we could have had more,
alone I will see what life has in store.
I so miss the comfort of you every night,
kindness from others, brings love at first sight.
Each new encounter, just gives me a shove,
reminding myself not to fall back in love.
When, where and who will be the right one?
I’ve so much to give, just let it be done.
I may never take them, to become my wife,
but I need embraces to sustain my life.
Addiction exists with drugs and affection,
I’m itching for love at each intersection.
How long must I wait to rip out the sutures?
Pleasure Delayer, indefinite future.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 5:48 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Its surprisingly amazingly,
Bad enough that I don't give two ***** about the human race,
But when you encounter,
A delusional crazy dumb ***** that listens to ghost call her name,
You wonder,
Man!!!
She is a lyar,
***** you should burn in fire,
Along with all those ghost,
And when I try to help you,
***** I swear you're doing the most,
So **** you.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC
Dear Soulmate
I'm pretty sure we've crossed paths before, just unassured of the spot
But I know you've already forgotten
How I look or how my name sounds like
Just another wallflower within your area of sight
Dear Soulmate
It's pretty weird for me to have you here as well
A bit restless, I don't know if you can tell
After being spun around the other way
By you who caught me in his arms and let me stay
Dear Soulmate
It almost feels like I have a debt to pay
Only to be fixed by paying attention to you
One burden I don't find myself to be in dismay
For I know that somehow, you carry the same load too
Dear Soulmate,
I am not in love with you, let's make that clear
I have learned not to after all these years
From many a chance encounter broken by this mere
Emotional "commitment" shrouded in unvoiced fear
See, I can not be caught in the teeth of romance
For it has bitten me once, let's not give it another chance
to ruin something good, I know you'd understand
So let me keep my distance now, before it catches me with its glance
Dear Soulmate,
I hope you feel the same
As I write to you, it may sound insane
Let me explain, before things turn twisted
Why I can't let you be one of them in the end
The problem is when my soul finds a mate, it ***** it dry
leaving it dependent for it to thrive
I see yours basking in freedom, a wonderful light
So I won't say goodbye, but rather, goodnight.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
Mysterious and unseen
A master of the dark and light
And all in-between
When she looks into your soul
Hers is enough to burn it to the ground
But also ****** it to the very core
She is a force of nature
An unstoppable wave of chaos and purity
that’ll throw you so off course
you’ll forget what it was ever like
to not have her in your life
She will read your mind
with the power to take every last bit
of strength you have
until you regret ever standing in her path
Do not ever lie to her
For she does not handle deceit lightly
Vengeance is her first, middle and last name
And her type of revenge is an evil noone
would wish to encounter
A queen of manipulation at her finest
she will see into your soul
long before you catch a glimpse
and change the way you think
to mend what she craves and the
desire that she seeks
She is a Scorpio,
And if you think you can escape her
You've already lost.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 8:11 AM UTC
I want you to be entirely distracted by my surface
the sunlight above me
I want you
I want you content with my forecast of calm waves
each encounter
Follow my subtle guidelines
Behaving as a good mother I"ll command you out of the ocean
if you swim too far from shore
Or if you dare plunge your head under me
Sexually
Remain floating on my surface layer this is where the
honey moon stage lasts
Do not stare into the eyes of a hurricane
storms in me churning off the coast of "you had no clue"
will leave you washed up on Island Nowhere
Absolutely no swimming after sunset
I don't care if you hear the waves sigh all night
In this situation I am God knowing whats best for you
saving you from drowning in my cycle
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 9:49 PM UTC
Strong winds may uproot you
Unsettle your stoic resignation
You will be shaken and stirred
Lot of ponderings and doubts
In the middle of nowhere
When gravity does not give hope
Become a fearless traveler
Encounter the strong winds
No matter where you settle
Continue to spread your roots, deeper
Your soul is still with you
Nothing can stop you from reliving
Every unsettling episode
Will teach you to be more resilient
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
Beloved,
In what other lives or lands
Have I known your lips
Your Hands
Your Laughter brave
Irreverent.
Those sweet excesses that
I do adore.
What surety is there
That we will meet again,
On other worlds some
Future time undated.
I defy my body's haste.
Without the promise
Of one more sweet encounter
I will not deign to die.
15.1k
Hell's demons are everywhere
If I could only convince you to see
Drinking gin and tonic with style
Sipping haughtily on lemon and tea
Their distorted evil frightening faces
Are masked from human sight
As they pass you with indifference
Grinning and nodding
Moving left to right
However
Without warning
As their vicious appetites call
Growing hungry for souls
In the silence of the night
They gobble up foolish sinners they encounter
That disappear forever from sight
So the next time you have the desire to dine in the evening
Take a moment or a second or two
Remember faces are not all they seem
A demon may be sipping a martini,
While smiling and sitting right next to you
This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
I listen to them as they mouth your name;
and I see
how deluded,
how hypnotic,
how enchanted and consumed
they talk of your ways and,
how the stars in their pupils beam with a radiance of such pure awe.
Your words hang loose off the tops of their tounges and their lips drool in your glaze.
Your lazy features, your so electric but so infuriating charm -
sends them mindless, locks them in your illusion.
So it’s then
I try to burn every
sheet of paper which ink prints your presence,
inside these desperate shelves which fold upon each heartstring.
My ears attempt to block it out.
Instead they replay every song
that has ever left your lips.
And my eyes deceive me as they scatter
a particle of you on every surface of life I encounter.
My mind echoes every laugh you created in my streams.
Then I paint every colour you ever erupted within me,
in thick black.
As they mouth your name,
every trace of you with anyone but me,
causes my hands to pull through my gut,
and hammer down any of these ******* deceptive daydreams
that you have me trapped me in.
And then so easily, one by one,
debris of my heart crumble like rain
down your window,
down each vein.
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
Axes
After whose stroke the wood rings,
And the echoes!
Echoes traveling
Off from the center like horses.
The sap
Wells like tears, like the
Water striving
To re-establish its mirror
Over the rock
That drops and turns,
A white skull,
Eaten by weedy greens.
Years later I
Encounter them on the road----
Words dry and riderless,
The indefatigable hoof-taps.
While
From the bottom of the pool, fixed stars
Govern a life.
13.2k
I still remember you
I lost you because non-commitment was all I could give.
Now I wake with my sheets soaked with the residue from my nightmares, suffocating me.
I long for those days when the sun was setting and hand in hand we'd sit, in silence.
You'd pull me closer to share your excitement with me; grab a fist full of my hair to allow you to enter into matrimony with my lips.
I long to have your presence next to me; to see the rise and fall of your chest reminding me that that is where my home is.
To have you wake me in the morning with your arms protectively caressing me, rhythmically and suggestively moving along my body...
To have you send shivers down my spine with your hot breath as I feel you smile into my neck
I remember your lips became the metaphor for our young hasty affair:
your lips often grazing every crevice on my body, arousing feelings in me I never thought existed and exciting this dormant precious place between my thighs.
My thighs, which are now the empty hallways you used to roam with so much passion and ferocity used to release waterfalls that cascaded down in a pleasurable release,
long for one more body trembling exhilarating encounter.
But most of all I long to be loved again.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
running
deliquescing into nature
i am engulfed in stillness
i encounter a deer as i round a corner
its chestnut eyes intensely sense
something wild within me
transfixed
we meld palpably
whispering our essence
myopic views warp into acute focus
golden flowers stretch and arch
and yawning into the sun
swell with bursts of luster
whilst violets polka dot the path
with lilac luminescence
dead tree trunks
mutating into masterpieces
yearn for new life
drawing in the squirrels
yellow-bellied birds
hover
sensing my motions
whilst woodland winds undulate
pine scented waves of sea salt oceans
my ears enchantingly enhanced
by bristling leaves caressing trees
as scintillating amber butterflies
dance in synch
with the clock tower’s
ancient chiming
a gust of wind
catches a patch of sand
and sends it quivering
fusing high in summer air
then falling soft as feathers
hidden fairies prance about
answering unheard questions
problems dissolve in emerald meadows
without a hint of striving
essays write themselves
upon my mind
poetry flows through me
wings of meadowlarks
trace my face with nuances
interlaced with connotations
rushing home
i write it down
then bowing i take credit
for what was etched upon my soul
by a sunbeam in the forest
©2016janetaylor
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 10:09 PM UTC
Sunrise.
Soft tendrils of illumination
Caress my already
Sunkissed cheek;
The delicate arch of my back
Is warmed by this lover’s awakening.
Sunrise.
The fingertips of him
Leave no part of me untouched
Bathing me in the balmy radiance
Until my body,
my form,
my very being
is surrounded by an ethereal glow.
Sunrise.
Where each dawning
Brings this
Kismet encounter
Between myself
And Apollo’s rebirth,
Leaving me yearning and
Aching for more.
Sunrise.
The troubles and tribulations
Of yesterday’s woes
Are forgotten---
Left behind
In the twilight;
In the shadows where
This beacon
Dares not tread.
Sunrise.
As I
Stretch my arms
And
Reach for the heavens
I am reminded that
This delicate and alluring daybreak
Is short-lived,
Replaced with haste
By the rose-tinted splendor
Of morning.
Sunrise.
Aug 5, 2011
Aug 5, 2011 at 2:30 PM UTC
A blank page waits for words that it will never see
Created from the head of someone writing a story
Characters, plot, setting, theme, are central to the tale
Without them every narrative is simply guaranteed to fail
Stakes and consequences must exist for someone to pursue
Whether treacherous of heart, or noble, brave, and true
And if these traits stand not alone but mixed in with the rest
That simply adds more intrigue to the outcome of the test
Will he get the girl? Will she rise above her station?
Can a rags-to-riches fable captivate the nation?
Who done it, where and why? Are three questions most effective
But often ****** requires the help of a detective
These may seem like idle, fragmented bits of a much larger whole
But actually they’re not; every type plays a role
For you see, “someone” mentioned above is not a professional writer
But an individual on a journey, and we all must face it like a fighter
Characters are those you know and love, plot is what you choose to do
Setting is where you live, theme defines what is important to you
So why a fighter you may ask, someone who faces pain and strife?
Because we encounter both good and ill as we write our book of life
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
You choose to ask me about me, you choose to want to know me. You speak words out my vocabulary! You speak of your world so fine. You lure me into your mind. You try speak the truth while talking lies. You tell me about beauty and brains combined. You tell me I look fine and my poetry is in line. You tell me you'd want to know if I'm woman enough. If I can really play tough with whips and cuffs! I ask you how? Cause this is my body? What more can a woman define being a woman? I then realise the misconception. Try give you direction, but your minds path is too narrow, filled with ***** ***** and lubes! Reluctant to teach a head with no backbone, I smile:) you then begin again. You tell me that that smile you have, is worth a million rands, you tell me my curves don't lie, that could handle me right? you tell me about the bed, the floor, the kitchen counter, you define me by how many rounds I can encounter! This is my body..how dare you try you undress me? How dare you define my womanhood out of desperate needs?
You terminate my soul and don't bother to ask more. You say thanx like I did a good job. For watering your ego and moaning your insecurities away. Respect my body sir. Then ill Salute you.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 7:17 AM UTC
*The flowers bloom momentarily
Winds carrying their delicate aroma
Swiftly guiding me towards them
As the petals have spread their beauty
Spreading happiness all around
A brief encounter leaves sweet memories*
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 9:49 AM UTC
Her lips constant at the utterance
Of sweet and serene words filled
With adoration, praising him,
He who made endless hearts
do cartwheels and somersaults
Of multiple, millions nigh and far
their hearts loving
As long as he’s living
Nonetheless, changing courses
Of history was what she excelled
One glance, one encounter turned
Her lips managing
to do none but stutter
To his shielded heart
no one managed to flutter
His deer like eyes observing
With admiration, eyes sparkling
every look, crook, nook
Of her smile that shook
The worlds and heavens
Devout in his heart and mind
His earth's plates shifting
His massive planets orbiting
He witnessed it all in one being
The gravity of the universe on her
Shoulders heavy from responsibility
The heavens challenging her capability
Her hardships conveyed as she blinked
their dilated orbs communicating
language barriers unstoppable
To what her eyes held
He understood his needs
To care, to cherish, to love,
Feeling his heart pumping blood
Faster, quicker than light
Travelling the dark domains
Undiscovered, just like her soul
That he felt the need to explore
As his heart finally fluttered
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 2:46 AM UTC
It’s weird how one vaguely remembers important days,
Like a friend’s birthday.
But I’ll remember one day,
And no, it wasn’t my friend’s birthday,
But actually, it was mother’s day.
I’ll always remember it,
Because you said you were cooking for your mom
And I remember thinking:
“What a gentleman!”
I’ll remember it because you were at church that day,
And I laughed because the idea of you being at church,
Made me believe for a while that you were actually a “Good boy”- a gentleman.
Most of all though,
I’ll remember that day,
Because you practically asked me If I liked you.
I remember saying to myself: “He’s a genius!”
Because you twisted it up,
But to be frank, I would have done the same thing too.
Instead of saying : “Do you like me ?” – (like a normal being);
You asked : “Is there a boy that you currently like?”
I also remember thinking ,
“How awkward”
Because my feelings for you were as clear as the sea,
But here you are asking, if I liked you.
I’ll remember that day, because I imagined how misty the smoke would look as it forced its way out of your lungs,
After a deep inhalation of the one you called: “Marie”
I’ll remember creating scenes in the desert of my mind
Of how it would feel to meet you for the first time –
if you’d hug me and smile,
Like a gentle man.
I’ll remember that day because I kept wondering:
“What if our first encounter was bad? “
“What if he doesn’t like what he sees?” –
I remember laughing because thought it was funny.
I’ll remember thinking that I should stop building feelings for you so fast.
I’ll remember it because I made my imaginations get the better of me –
I imagined us in the place where my only use for that place is to sleep.
I’ll remember that day because trying to get you off my mind failed once more-
Because when I fell asleep you were at the forefront of my mind
And when I woke up,
You still were.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
We've had a turbulent journey together
And as he pushed the bike, slowly did his hand release me
Riding the crashing waves I admit my struggle
And my childish naivety gave passage to worser threats
Yet still he stands there, waving me on my way
Even to this day, despite questionable confidences, I still turn
And still he stands there
A rebel I didn't mean to be, but I am cursed with escalating emotions
Or maybe he would say a blessing, to empathize and find strength
As memories haunt me at night, teaming with those of ill will
The sensitivity he passed on to me prevails, Innocently I am slowed
But my wheels continue turning, and my heart stays true
Though my eyes and ears remain obstructed, my heart makes a turn
And yes, he still stands there
His presence unpurposefully commands attention
And his knowledge, he gives without catch
I understand the wars he must encounter, and yet he stays calm
Giving peace to the tide, he offers nothing, but gives everything
I unconditionally love him
I honestly hold respect for him,
He indirectly teaches me
And fuels me with his love
In this moment, I turn back, not for fear of falling,
But to wave back to the man who let me go
He is no longer there, standing firm in his spot
No
My friend, my father, he rides by my side.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC