"enmeshed" poems
The spotlight is on the broken coastline
porous - like archers spilling arrows
into the vanquished hinterland.
In the ancient West Mercia
wooden bridges collapse
uproar, as the King's regiments
long disbanded , ghosts
into fading memory.
Our defenders, our loyal subjects
enmeshed into the wider fear
our citadels breached,
and where is the valour
the self reliance of our septic isle?
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 3:50 PM UTC
A futile battle enmeshed
Overpowering emotions struggle to stay afloat
Heaving a deep breath I sink in
Isolated in my despair
Sliced through bone and marrow
Pain wrenches my soul, vice in its hold
A fragrance wafts in
Electrifying my soul
Reverberating memories explode
Bursting to surface
Tender moments, the story of a heaped up soul
In every cell of my being I feel you
Emanating exuding your deep truth
Your touch like butterflies
Transcendental your love
Rewinding reel by reel
The story of an unsaid love
I see you close, though I bear you not
My heart lost inside your soul
Irreplaceable the magic
Weaved by those deep emerald embers
Wants each moment to unfold
I ease back and surrender once again
To the assurance of this bliss
Entrenched deeply in this moment
Serenity shrouds a warm blanket
Intense emotions lay calm, spent
My soul in glorious serenity elevates
You are undeniably a part of me
My paragon, my serenity
Issue forth bright light, vibrant colors
Adorn the deep dark night sky
Your love a painting a million hues
Panoramic and divine.
I LOVE YOU....
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
Ushered into the breathable
Strung on undefinable threads,
Life's atmospheric interlacing;
A weaving, hidden to opaque sight
Subtle ties, loosen and relax,
Chest enmeshed entirely,
Titillating summations of Earth's enthusiasm
Entwine in activities of the lungs and heart
Pumping action, energy, growth,
Air feeds fire, and power, and blood,
Burning from the inside, animated,
Billions of cellular suns, throbbing
Light in the garden of the body,
Alive with murmurs, and hums
Of love, all of time, and space,
Moved to produce this oscillation
Ecstatic the body expands in swells,
Ecstatic the body contracts in swells,
Ecstatic are the waves exchanging,
Ecstatic is the surge of breath
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 3:19 PM UTC
~
*Step into the moment
with bated breath,
There will come
the beguilement
and whispered shadows at play,
they seem to congeal around
conflagration of wills
and spirits considered outré.
And if it should rain
within these walls,
we'll advance south and sneak
under cover.
Fingers will find,
lips will linger and remind.
It will be a slow
recovery this time.
The places we travel go beyond
the arms reach,
they war for supremacy,
they alter and spasm,
they're random, but hover
between us in unity.
This dance we make
is an intimate ballet,
this push and pull
a blissful menagerie,
a wrinkle in time
we call ecstasy.
In kisses christened as luminaries,
appointing our own ceiling
— a mural painted in the keen
colors of craving.
The years of such sweet communion
have built this shelter, this nest,
and here together we rest.
And we are no less surrendering
to them than straddling the heavens
— the gauze of time,
timber and tranquility enmeshed,
and wishing it never ends.*
~
May 24, 2021
May 24, 2021 at 1:54 PM UTC
Echo, cricket,
Thump, stump.
The very loud things
Galloping through the silence.
The creaking of stairs like the breaking of bones
That snapped tin cap,
Clinging onto the prophesied labor of your last breath,
Oscillating through your liquefied ontology.
Ethanol overflown and embodied.
Cricket cricket,
The underlying intrinsic.
The empty tone of a distant voice.
The spaces of letters and words so magnified
So wide,
Expanding like an unstoppable void.
Oh my,
Here it comes,
Shadowed by your hissing tongue.
You are glittered,
Pinnacle bitter.
Cloaked in pure white.
Not a thread of disguise.
Twinkle, twinkle,
Buggy, rugged eye.
Those razor touched lines,
Translucent and caressed,
Reminiscent and enmeshed,
Like faded pale stripes,
Hugging the armor of canvas flesh.
Walking among these thin lines,
Head down, musky powdered stench,
Awaiting the inevitable rise and fall.
Of the intangible crux of a hollow memory,
Woven inside the synthetic fabric of the undelivered.
Oceanic cold shiver,
Piercing through our empty, untethered souls.
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 11:32 PM UTC
S is for Seduction, a vast verb saved for flesh,
But in her outer-worldly tune, my thoughts become enmeshed;
Like at the great Salamis, where strength sought strike the feeble,
Seduction marked our birth, their fall—an end without a sequel.
L heralds in some fifty lads, of whom mere five would pass,
Bugsy, Daphne, Sylvester, and Tazzy, above their peers compassed.
The tests were long, the trials were tough, from nothing we had fostered
A team of lucky, noble lads to fight these migrant monstærs.
A is the assault, outnumbered and outclassed,
Our heroes boldly braved their foes until their stalwart last.
Despite their lead by tyrants, such Nawt of Hispaniola,
Our foes were forced unto retreat, costing us Lady Lola.
M is for the ones who’ve fallen, for them mourn reminiscence,
For those who proudly placed their names for our petty subsistence.
The fight is done, the beasts beat back, denied all loot and hoarding,
And so a statue is ***** Honorum Mikael Iordan!
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
alone
cold November
looking ******* anonymously
serotonin depleted
hours go as myself -- why not?
pleasing things
used relationship -- wanted ***
desire
supreme union
*** is all
of life
enmeshed forms
penetrate ******
there is nothing
eyes entering one another
nothing more
everything
unable to cut off
so follows the ********
so-called unnatural containers
natural pervert
let it be simple
It's the world
no better
confusion
convoluted nonsense
shoulders of an older age
inhibit our natural blossom
there is work I have prepared
creature flesh and circuitry
pleasuring it's lights
like fireworks of ****** intent
vines creep thighs
apes grunt -- ****** into the jungle
tigers mount
stars operate strange new images
life beckons fungus
devouring bombs
skeletons locked in copulation
boys sit
park & touch
condense into infinite arousal
shadow history
confrontation nature
you may not my body
they not your history
I am not yourself
no words express truth
simple realization most difficult
dead myths
wipe *** on brick
bottle of wine
glass of beer
golden halo, dream, hat, shoe
a puddle of ***** on my belly
endless marijuana and diction
handfuls of disappearing money
born into the screaming hospital
in the grass of a carpet
nothing to do with it
a concept, an idea
a drunken slur
misplaced affection
a hand, a breast, a mouth
in a car, a bed, a bathroom
elaborate play
that's all
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
A life lived in black and white. No time for middle of the road. Lines drawn straight and narrow. Passion, only with rules. Love, only as stated. A heart filled with admiration, adoration, and caring. Nothing missing from the list of "supposed to". All boxes checked off. I's dotted and T's crossed. Perfect on paper, perfect to onlookers, perfect in bed. Never a thought of something missing. All boxes checked. Not able to settle into a life. Unable to blur the lines. Must be good, always good. Mistakes happen, but not on purpose. Not by choice.
Always the good one
Right is the only option
Mistakes...still happen
Before we fully become, life is full of confusion. Who we are and what we do are enmeshed within our surroundings, our perspective, our emotion, and our lives. Pulled together, yet fighting every step of the way. Beyond our understanding of purpose or passion. Afraid of everything we are as yet unable to understand. Trying to get through to the next phase without falling too hard.
Peers skew vision
Rules confine the innocent
Love hides unnoticed
Grown into a life of checks and balances. A nice life, a good life. Loved by many, yet alone. Always alone. Able to love, willing to love, believing love is what is being lived. Unseen circumstances. Friendships remembered. Longing, pulling toward one another. More than passion could ever be. More than who we thought we were. The need to be right, to do the right thing, is stomped unrecognizable by emotion. The past melts into the future. Is a life unfulfilled, yet loving, enough to maintain, or is love supposed to be so full of passion that it takes you outside the box?
The thought of a life
A love left unrealized
A world in a cage
A chance to live in happiness. Fires burn in body and mind. No sorrow, no regret. Pushed by one into another. Two hearts alone run to each other. Holding fast to all that is real. Yet casualties will line the road forever tainting all that could be good. Checks and balances. Pros and cons. Does one give up happiness to maintain the perfect facade, the perfect family, the "perfect" life? There is no perfect. There is only what is. The possibility of happiness could be short lived. Hearts broken and bridges burned. Broken families, broken lives. Happiness could be tangible. Happiness could be real. Pros and cons. What price shall be paid. When should love lose and happiness not be a goal? Choices, pain, there is no fairness. There is no black and white, there are no boxes in which to fit.
Straight and narrow life
Checklists, I's dotted, T's crossed
Thwarted by passion
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 10:51 PM UTC
it saws old rain in my skull
and your thoughts take a tour; wet and heavy
and quietly, the dirt shifts in the metal tracts
*you break me every single time
my internal spilling is entangled
hopelessly*
my summer-psyche enmeshed in your season
and forever swallows a few more ribs
don't wake the children of the light
for their feathers will burn beneath my nails
a storm hangs patiently on the wall
like a delighted painting made from frantic crystals
and I skitter from your towering moods
yet the moon dances in and out of every calm abyss
the lid is no more vacant than my veins cursed with
your silence
like algae, I slip on
my terror squeaks like a vehicle possessed
cheeks go ashen in my gay smiles
you will blush, in secret at what I will do
to you
sails lift on garlicky air in a port where ships don't wait
and my tongue loosens another melody only doubt hears
I'm completely in your hands
and willing for that crush
my acts for coins fall meaningless in embedded frustration
don't come to the table, then
keep the shades drawn
only the sense of phantoms
will be hanging in my smoke
intoxicating me to radiance
racing through to the ripples in your day
I'll keep lancing pebbles across the ocean's surface
they will never really reach the riverbed
frosty comes in agonising diamonds
a feast of distress sitting urgently
a shudder flutters through me, imperceptible
reduction of sweetness
a date with the cherubs from a netherworld
my nose feels the snows you carry
and I know you constrict still
my language falters and thinking shatters
and although slumped and vulnerable, it flourishes.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC
The sunrise burns the sky
A carefully coloured explosion
Blooded light flooding the low Kent fields that lie
Before Maidstone, excreting soundless motion:
Yellow carnation shards sway
With this violent advent of day.
In Hucking Estate diaphanous bluebells nestle
Beneath the groping canopy
Of Ash. Oak; the encroaching stinging nettle
Shields the frequent woodland scree
Covering with a verdant flush
Brooks that through the stones invisibly rush.
Within the hour, the Gorgon-headed sun
Sweeps aside the cloud-
The red into blue and orange has run
And in Lower Fullingpits Wood the increasingly loud
Shuffling of badger attacking vole, fox strangling rabbit,
All compounded into daily habit.
The Kent Downs rise and fall
Like resurrected earth-bound music from a time
When hill, wood and pool
Emerged from unfettered chalk and lime.
Before the Cantii hunted in ancient Wents Wood,
For deer and boar, spurred not by hunger but for the love of blood.
Above the sparrow-hawk attacks the sparrows
Claw enmeshed in feather,
Beak unravelling neck. The unalterable sorrows
Of nature and weather.
Cruelty never ceases, but just gets more efficient-
Kindness remains deficient.
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
mark of cain in my hemoglobin, i'm more open to repast on brains.
to dine on flesh enmeshed in baseball parks and homes restrained
by greed of the same. and the cry of the people takes great pains
to refine the message of a blank stare. a blemish, stark with catacombs
disarranged in harm honey. the ogre of pine. the amber pane
where we bleed. we name nameless, by the by,
to the finish.
but not
alone.
up your petticoat with my blind cleaver. my Occam razor to your stain.
a fine mess express in hateful art and boneless jade
we feed on the frame of our reference. skylarking harmonious curves dismayed
by their own mind. they confess it. at the statefair. replenished, they knish in falderal
disengaged from honesty. the poker blind. where the eye staid.
where we need. we need most ... tell ya why.....
to diminish
but not
atone.
and so it goes. i erode the continent. sneaky pete in the crease of all strange.
itchy feet. maimed in false lies of the ripple. made fake
to real love. unclaimed. a gangly part of broken promises made
we retreat at last. with our last mimes. we undress. with savoir faire. distinguished in our dashery
ill fated. calamity's bark. hard to define. where the mind misbehaved.
we're complete most where the hole resides...
to imprison
but not
hold.
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 10:29 AM UTC
It's long since, so I thought I will fly my home to you:
winged friend, you don't stop by anymore here on lissome nights?
Oh what air-traffic,
these jumbo cars with crane legs
that even hopping seem to crawl;
Two towers have crashed ahead and a vortex is rising in the desert:
Did you not receive my messages? I typed them in into the aether.
And space, oh this messy jumble
that is enmeshed with time,
will not warp now,
No easy looping through. No beaming past. And no word from you,
but Heavenly Times hasn't reported you missing, yet.
I have time on my hands. Let me check
for all those timelines where
I won't see you again.
I need a quill and papyrus. Soot I have, plenty to ink. Quill and
papyrus: Winged friend, a feather and some spring will do.
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
“She who has infused every minute of my day,
Hastens through titillating my endorphins.
Absconded hiding within myself,
As blue crystals glaring teeter in the sea,
As we sanction the reticence of ardor,
While the sea eradicates its perennial effigy,
As infinite cascades eradicate beneath us,
As the water stride procures to the sandy shore,
Where the waves shatter on unsettled rocks,
As once again the clear light bursts as sun sets,
Enmeshed in a fabric of palpable vibrant colors,
Portrayed as that of a burlesque plumeria of infinites,
The plumeria burst of aureoles immortal love,
Unyielding its pedals as the devouring sea rotates,
Will ephemeral demise procure in the deep blue sea?
Over its blue pedaled face an astringent frown,
We have embarked on a promenade of love my dear,
I now stand before you no longer with emptiness,
Only perennial affection that you are mine and I yours,
In our Aureoles of Plumeria”
By AG 03/10/2018 ©
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 6:52 PM UTC
A sated sigh and warm breath in my ear
Enveloped in the heat of you
Your heart beats within me
As we lie enmeshed and still
Basking in love's quintessence
Jul 13, 2010
Jul 13, 2010 at 11:26 PM UTC
I awaken this morning with you lingering
on the verge of my tongue, not your salty -
sweet sweat, but the unswallowable mention
of your name. I want desperately to consume
the mmmm's that flowed from my lips just
moments before the alarm jolts me to reality.
Try as I might, the aaaaahhhhh's won't digest either,
Nor the taaa taaa taaa's. I gasp.
It always starts this way when you are gone:
I curl into your invisible muscular arms, wrap legs
around firm nothingness and pretend that you are here.
I bury my face into your scent-laden pillow and inhale deeply.
The memory of our ********** is as implanted on ebony sheets
as it is in the cavernous walls of my mind. Your hands don't cease
to caress thighs and calves, nor your lips to flick ***** *******
just because you are away. This is how enmeshed we are.
Nov 21, 2010
Nov 21, 2010 at 4:04 PM UTC
tattoos on my neck but should be your lips instead
tattoos on my neck but should be your hands instead
I want every part of me, enmeshed in you
the sun kisses my back as she creeps up behind the hill
shedding light on the aftermath of drunken thrills
I miss the blaze of the blunt and the bass in the club
relinquish my demons as we are talking it up
do you like my eyes that's where they hide?
do you like my thighs wanna try them tonight?
because tattoos on my neck but should be your lips instead
Oct 31, 2021
Oct 31, 2021 at 8:23 PM UTC
I just wanted to be
your tugboat captain,
your name engraved
on the hull, my name
enmeshed with your
skull.
Dance around in your tutu,
yes, suspended on one toe,
yes, now slip it off &
crawl into the bath.
I just wanted to be
your tugboat captain,
your skin wrapped
around the mast, your
skeleton draped upon
the shaft.
Look up at me with blue eyes, yes,
open up your pink mouth, yes,
now steer with your feet &
take us to the mainland.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 7:40 PM UTC
No confusion wrinkles her forehead, eyes affixed first on his lips
until magnetically drawn to eyes blue as a mountain lake.
Comfort rests across her chest. Hips burn together and
her cheek brushes the ironclad hardness of his bicep.
They walk enmeshed. Traces of trepidation,
scars embedded in her mind from tragic romance, fade.
Residual fears fall to the trail among twigs and stones.
Rebirth of trust creeps into her heart.
Together their feet trample her qualms.
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC
As my illogic breaks, I'll robot make
to be this soul's chamber,
robbing a piecemeal joy from misfit toys
tossed out for fine tuning
by toddlers cheery mad to gorge on fads.
I'll take their T-Rex head,
with droopy lids that wink as if to drink
the world's wide-shallow stares,
plug its plastic prongs in torso of tin
while twin squeeze-box arms splay
to tie magnetic bows round pads below
gold, plush lion cub's legs.
This moppet of mixed breeds I'll learned feed
with animate cunning
to be ruled by charmed laws that give it pause
when whole-sum circumstance
tangles fuzzy circuits. Then a circus-
wire's unbalancing act
I'll paste from templed flesh to doll enmeshed
by transfuse rigging,
and as coil comes to slough, just as I'm off,
I'll flip that gilded switch,
implanting my spirit into a bit
of copper-hued country.
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 9:49 AM UTC
come escape these pictures with me, these photographs
sinuous and sinful, tenuous and tendrils creeping
i feel you slipping slow away
i wish i remembered the taste of your lips,
the crackle of sparks between us that first time
like the crunch of dried leaves underfoot that september
losing time
losing my summer spent
under telephone poles
and high voltage wires
loving you
losing light
daybreak won’t come tonight
and if i shout out loud
nobody will be listening
missing you
and if in our short embrace
we find hearts of gold enmeshed as one
we take the time and celebrate
sweaty, entangled in your bed
your mother in the room upstairs
try to be quiet, we cannot shout
this magic we’re creating
could not hold itself together
losing time,
losing my summer spent under
telephone poles, high voltage wires
loving you
losing light,
daybreak won’t come tonight
and if i shout out loud
no one will and no one can
be listening,
please be listening…
we’re comparing what we could have
to a dream that we have lost
frosted over outside like
dead
dead water in your swimming pool
in the dead of winter
dead and buried, dead and gone,
dead so long the worms have taken you
home
like the leaves that embraced you
the night it was all stolen away.
…
losing time,
losing my summer spent under
telephone poles
high voltage wires
loving you
losing light,
daybreak won’t come tonight,
no it won’t
and if i shout out loud
it won’t bring it back
…whatever we may
come to find
let it be right
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
Mark of Cain in my hemoglobin, i'm more open to repast on brains.
to dine on flesh enmeshed in baseball parks and homes restrained
by greed of the same. and the cry of the people takes great pains
to refine the message of a blank stare. a blemish, stark with catacombs
disarranged in harm honey. the ogre of pine. the amber pane
where we bleed. we name nameless, by the by,
to the finish.
but not
alone.
up your petticoat with my blind cleaver. my Occam razor to your stain.
a fine mess express in hateful art and boneless jade
we feed on the frame of our reference. skylarking harmonious curves dismayed
by their own mind. they confess it. at the statefair. replenished, they knish in falderal
disengaged from honesty. the poker blind. where the eye staid.
where we need. we need most ... tell ya why.....
to diminish
but not
atone.
and so it goes. i erode the continent. sneaky pete in the crease of all strange.
itchy feet. maimed in false lies of the ripple. made fake
to real love. unclaimed. a gangly part of broken promises made
we retreat at last. with our last mimes. we undress. with savoir faire. distinguished in our dashery
ill fated. calamity's bark. hard to define. where the mind misbehaved.
we're complete most where the hole resides...
to imprison
but not
hold.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
*Atoms once enmeshed,
Dispersed
The essence of void
It lingers on
Adoration of these
sublime bones you possess
With which I built a cathedral
Whichever soil
Those steady feet may tread now
My blood recognises you still*
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 4:48 PM UTC