"endevour" poems
Endless laughs & smiles
That were shared together
With a feeling so profound
It always felt like summer weather
& a future planed to grow
On your exciting life adventure
**** It couldn't get no better
This feeling is too big to measure
Now you're consumed with butterflies
It sends shivers down your spine
U feel the warmth just taking over
Every time she passes by
Like a new world u have discovered
Loosing yourself within her eyes
Asking yourself if this is real
Or have u been dreaming this hole time
Cuz you've never visualized
A chemistry so divine
She becomes your one & only
A star placed right by your side
& her gourgous magnitude
Always lifting u up into the sky
Thankful life blessed u this way
The day paths had intertwined
Deep within a love
u get to know her story
Of how she once loved another
With a passion but then turned stormy
He left her on her own
Broken hearted & feeling lonely
That wasn't the outcome
She was expecting in this journey
Filled with blue emotion
Wondering where it all went wrong
& how the **** she lost his devotion
But with time she grew back strong
Gracefully flowing just like the ocean
Determined to move on
She found herself feeling unbroken
& so she carried on
That's when life brought u together
Instant attraction from the start
U both embarked a new endevour
Giving this feeling a fair shot
But now the time is rather worrying
U feel she's drifted off
Your future seems quite unclear
You're mind's consumed with fearfull thoughts
That this storm will never clear
& you'll both just grow apart
-Abraham Avalos
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 8:47 AM UTC
As the time that went sour,
And all the wet pillows
that were dried on The Sun,
As all the times my heart broke,
were never cured,
even by the close ones, And
All the ones that wanted
me to change no matter what,
Never happened, And they feared,
The time it happens, None
I will be able to perceive.
I didn't endevour change, as
my fear for it was undoubted.
Ow God, What have you done,
It happened, What I always
feared about, has happened,
This Pisces fish has turned
to sail a different way,
to never come back,
As the rumour say.
The good in me is now dead,
And the worse, now prevails,
As the ones who killed it,
are the ones, for whom
I, at last, did change.....
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 2:22 PM UTC
i have an ongoing
love affair
with words
that roll around your
mouth
luscious, langourous
lilliputitian letters
sensual syllables
slick- sliding off
the tongue
ecstatic explosions,
erupting, erogenously
exciting, eager exclaimations,
of enraptured exualtations
organic, original orientations
of teeth and tongue
producing oodles,
of apogeic anomolies
my affair
accomplishes much
for little
it is you see
just a not so secret love
of letter, line, jot and tittle.
a casting eye upon a word
and i am set rushing
down a path
reserved for those
with terms, descriptive,
and names.
that in themselves,
decry
wordlove.
lexicographers and bibliophiles
phoneologists, linguists, polygots,
jonguluers, wordsmiths scribes
poets.
all possess this
heartstringed
tangled knot,
spiderwebbed
feeling,
for words.
which, we then,
endevour to spin,
into inkstained beauty,
to ensare
ourselves ...and others.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
she sat at 2B
Ljubljana to London Stanstead
straight and still
immaculately dressed
a lady of a certain age
intent to carry it with grace
hair so blonde
and inappropriately long
makeups filler
thickly clung to lines
of a life lived in simpler times
her fingers encrusted with jewels
decades of love adorned upon
now seated amongst
the business trough
here she was
beauty queen of her day
this is not to objectify
but differentiate
the greatest of all artistic endevour
to be respected
admired from afar
but above all
may it appreciate within
so take us back
some 30 years or more
to Yugoslavia
and talks of revolution
from this beauty queens
city retreat
let my whispered words
seep through the ages
for that you may feel
all that you are
then and now
with ferocious pride
let you love this beauty possessed
so that future mirrors
senses and memories
may to you never portray
the ravages of bitter time
now this flight
is destined to land
as the stewardess she calls its' time
you ask my assistance
to retrieve your case
thanking me through
a cracked half smile
two strangers their turn
to disembark
as now we must end
this inconsequential affair
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
At times I confess,
The follies that are part of me,
The bane of being human,
Force me to find recluse in solitude,
Away from the squabbles of mortal men,
Who fight for things immaterial,
Spurning things that they should endevour to have.
Alas, it shames me not,
That solitude at times,
Rejuvenates some hidden part of myself,
A resevoir refilled, replenished.
I spend my time alone,
Listening to the solitary wind,
Or to the beats of some bard’s song,
Uncovering meaning in both.
But I must admit there are times,
When I watch lovers entwined in a casual embrace,
Or a child’s loving gaze at his parent,
And realization strikes me.
Although I like being alone at times,
The wine of loneliness bitters my withered soul.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 7:26 AM UTC
Last nights phrases,
The points were impressive,
They stuck out like sore thumbs,
It helped push up a lot of my daises.
Large was the pawn I held,
It fell and broke into pieces.
I picked every part up
When it was fixed,
It was half missing!
I asked you for an hour, you gave me a quarter,
Full of your patter.
It did not matter.
I do love your chatter.
Searching for the inner matter,
I thought of your gift of never,
I certainly no longer felt clever.
However, I endevour to be your
Friend forever
We loved all weather
When we were together
Have you forgotten?
You can be really rotten
Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 2:14 PM UTC
**The ever optimistic fool sits with sapphire teals rolling frantically from eyes which see too much
The heart that has been torn, tread upon and dragged in the dust can not bare the burden
So it rips apart,spilling it's ragged contents Into the gutter
There is nowhere left to run and your not really sure there's a need to leave
But a return back from this pessimism would be a delightful notion
As thoughts twist and turn
Like a never ending last spin on your noisy washer
Faster, more fragmented, frantic and free
The land has been freshly ploughed
The arguments are over
You have used your voice so as not to be seen as invisible
You may have spilled it all and god knows where we go from here
But it's certain that we will take not a step backwards in our endevour to be heard
Scratch an itch and it will get bigger
Keep picking at my scars and I will not be able to give you my free thinking happy mask that I manage to wear so well
So well indeed that I truly forgot this part of me ever existed
To stand upon the highest hill in the middle of a storm that could match my own
To meet my match in natures force
This alone will help me sleep
The dreams are so haunting
And I'm drowning in the neglectful thoughtlessness of clowns**
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
Cult is not a religion that could
allow diversity of thoughts and belief.
It demands conformity and exerts control
over the thought of its subjects.
Any deviation is punished severely.
All dictatorships are harmful but religious dictatorship is the worst of all.
All political doctrines,
whether leftist or rightist,
once proven false, are abandoned,
but religious fallacies endure,
coz they're believed to be from God and therefore infallible.
" The heaven and earth can pass but the
word of God won't."
Rational people are willing to accept its
irrationality and philosophers
endevour to rationalize and legitimize them for intellectuals' consumption.
But lies are lies, no matter
how elaborated they're and how
long they have survived.
General acceptance of a lie, does not
make it truth, nor universal rejection of truth would eclipse it's
splendor....
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 4:36 AM UTC
to the stones,
i poured their water ration,
but they seemed to,
be imitating ducks
and off their backs,
it rolled.
i spoke loudly,
to the clouds,
that hovered,
overhead
but they just scowled
and turned their
faces to the sun.
so, my next endevour,
is to re-arrange,
the sand dunes.
i think, that will be fun.
so set off i must,
with my bucket
and *****
for it will
only ever get
finished,
once i
have begun.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
sometimes when i
contemplate the art
of grocery shopping
i yearn for much simpler
days
when butter was just butter
and no one knew the harm
that it could do..
those days when you did n't
worry about milk
simply because it was
delivered in clinking glass
bottles right to your door
when you knew the butcher
who cut up the cow
and you knew that the pork
sausages came from the pig.
and when your mum
sent you to get the fish
she sent you with a clean
pottery dish
those day of yore
when fifty cents would
buy a coke some chips
a sherbet bomb and more.
but those day are long gone
and i must move on
so again when i shop
tommorrow
i will stand in front of the
twenty brands of margerine
spreads and butter
and endevour not to mutter
about the fact
that butter is still, just butter.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC
Night yields to love alone,
light shines on the room unknown.
Flirting eyes sets tonight's tone,
bodies start moving like they're not their own.
Dance by yourself when you see him there,
seductive imagination and rotation for her to bare.
Neo romance sparks their intuition,
Sprint a little faster and take your position.
Anxious smile meet her blue gaze,
teasing flowing whirling spinning prism.
Burning hands touch her fiery dance maze,
body language starts to decor the rainbow rhythm.
Stopping cold when the sound breaks the illusion,
a new embrace becomes their revolution.
Charmed lips close in as a kiss is born,
a new blissful love has been sworn!
"My heart feels really bright", she said
he smiled back as away with her, he led.
"Be my girl, this night", he said
as from the floor they swiftly fled.
Moonlight adorns the pretty weather,
magic scene of them holding hands like a tether.
Secrets give way to a fresh endevour
that will make them be together forever.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
What is the subject matter?
That's a matter of Creative Problem Solving
on the part of the Artist:
Does poetry have to be emotionally rooted?
No!
Does it work really well for emotional release?
**** yeah!
Can it be an enriching endevour into Logic and Philosophy?
Of course!
Does that get old?
..
I plead the Fifth.
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 1:13 PM UTC
My eyes plead for sleep, for sleep
But night entreats me to creep, to creep
Out in the black so deep, so deep
And follow the fence so neat, so neat
Up the hill so steep, so steep
Where light shines so meek, so meek
In a cold breeze so weak, so weak
Under a tree that's sharp, not bleak
And do the wild dance for dreams
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
Poet is the weaver of words
With every verse, a thread
The pen a needle
To craft most beatiful attire a quest
Of songs, poems and hymns
Muscian brings poetry to life
The words dance to the beat of drums
Ears serenated by dulcet tones
That spring forth from a beatiful voice
Warrior is the bringer of war
Weapon in hand, death in his eyes
His foes defeated, the land crimson
His craft is to bring death, until death bites back.
Widow is the one who lost it all
To the neverending tones of wars
The blood shed paid in tears
And the space never to be filled.
Poets gain inspiration
The deeds of conquerors assured
If the lands don´t remember their names
Our poems will forevermore
The muscian take the poem
And turns into song
Their names celebrated in taverns
And cheered all night long
The warrior will follow to drums
The neverending beats of war
To fight for conquerors a endevour most noble
Relish the carnage, bathe in the blood
And widows will be on their knees
Not singing songs or reciting hymns
Tears on her eyes, cursed name on their lips
Wondering how will she feed herself until next spring
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 7:40 PM UTC
NAPO WRIMO
Next month is Poetry Month
Why not, endevour to write
a poem a day from provided prompt
Stretch yourself, find new sources of creativity.
Discover new poets, new resources,
Celebrate yourself and other poets
Check out the website:
http://www.napowrimo.net/
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 2:13 AM UTC
Dark and stormy weather
Nothing's better
Than the feeling of the mist in the air
Not a thought of despair
Looms in the air
Dark clouds bring the feeling of sadness
Is it madness
That it feels so right
Dim lights set the mood
For what we're about to do
Wisk away in the rain
Helping keep you sane
Can't you see
This is how it's supposed to be
A kind of free
You and I forever
Throughout this endevour
Not a soul can severe
These bonds we've made
Under the gray blue clouds
As we fall under the shroud
-Cnk
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 3:06 AM UTC
I sit here in my humble abode
Wondering the meaning of my life
Twiddling the facts of reality
Drawing on my past experiences
How can I love so inexplicably
Why is it so hard to find the same
To love ones weirdness. All their flaws
I found that with you.
Yet unrequited those terms and conditions are
I who love you no matter.
Never once considering looking back
You're perfect in all the stunning beauty you glow
But myself put so high on a pedestal
Could not meet your expectations
And here I am fallen aback
Questioning my choices to be an open book for you
Nevertheless I press forward
Pursuing the partnership I desire with you
Building my self, my confidence, my love,
My future, my home, my life.
Am I alone in this endevour?
Or have I found a partner who will walk hand in hand.
Dec 16, 2017
Dec 16, 2017 at 3:17 PM UTC
From deep below your throat
It would seem your words appear
Provoking more than pain
with a tinge more of fear
It seems every time you open your mouth
All those words broken
Cut me like razor blades
Every sharpened word spoken
But listen on
this torture I must endevour
Unlike my fresh wounds
These scars will last forever
And as every piercing word
echos through and destroys my mind
every shred of hope, respect
and confidence I may ever find
But know you what you say
is for yourself protect
Not realizing that your words
will give me nights of sleeplessness
And even though we are foolish
and still rather young
For the toxic things you say to me
I hope you choke on your own tongue
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 10:00 AM UTC
as he changed his words, the pictures changed.
a new meaning , a new endevour. i still think of him.
things move slowly steadily as snails in the garden,
yet, as i watched the fire, felt the heat, we started moving
toward america.
sbm
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC