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"envious" poems
It terrifies me that we only get a limited amount of time with people. And that some people get more time than others who should have. I’m forever envious of those who’ve gotten more time with you than I have. That I may never get to be with you as long as they have. That our time is running out. And I miss you already. And I never want to say goodbye. At first it was slow, late nights in your car and afternoons in my bedroom. But now it feels like it’s happening all at once, like you’re doing a snow angel on my heart and it keeps getting bigger and bigger. Kissing on the sidewalk, holding hands in your coat pocket because I forgot to bring gloves. Wandering around museums and having hard conversations on your couch that make me love you even more; even when the air becomes glass, I can’t stop thinking about how lucky I feel to know you. That there’s no one else like you. My heart aches in your arms and aches when we’re apart. And I just want to be as close to you as possible, for as long as possible, because you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, and I love who I am when I’m with you.
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
midnight journal
A ceramic cup pressed to my lips Hot tea steaming below my tounge A breath of warm summer air fills my lungs soon followed by green tea The season is joyous The cicadas sing And the lightning bugs mate But my throat is tight I grip my tea and take another sip Three months of relaxation by the pool Yet the only thing I can worry about is the looming fall 68, 67, 66, 65... And the numbers continually drop with every sunset Fall draws closer everyday But instead of the warm welcome of school time once more The changing of the seasons also changes my life Senior I sip my tea as the anxiety grows College college college That's all I can think of All of my friends will leave but it's alright My cup is empty He's leaving. I have to face real world problems alone and worry about what his school will bring at the same time He's changing for his own good. He's following his dreams I'm happy and envious of him But I cry because it's all too much It's summer and I can't even enjoy the night sky He's going to find someone else It's okay I tell myself It's okay he tells me What will happen will happen But memories of all the good times shared burn my mind And the tears stream down my cheeks It's okay he says We can make it he says Part of me wants to believe it, he and I have talked everything out But another part of me says to break it off now. Why risk getting hurt when he leaves you for someone else? No other college relationship works, you're just a stupid high school girlfriend My conscious fights over this endlessly but he still tells me it's okay I just want the anxiety to end The lightning bugs fade And the cicadas go silent Tortured sleep comes to me once more under the beautiful night sky
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Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
Autumn
A ceramic cup pressed to my lips Hot tea steaming below my tounge A breath of warm summer air fills my lungs soon followed by green tea The season is joyous The cicadas sing And the lightning bugs mate But my throat is tight I grip my tea and take another sip Three months of relaxation by the pool Yet the only thing I can worry about is the looming fall 68, 67, 66, 65... And the numbers continually drop with every sunset Fall draws closer everyday But instead of the warm welcome of school time once more The changing of the seasons also changes my life Senior I sip my tea as the anxiety grows College college college That's all I can think of All of my friends will leave but it's alright My cup is empty He's leaving. I have to face real world problems alone and worry about what his school will bring at the same time He's changing for his own good. He's following his dreams I'm happy and envious of him But I cry because it's all too much It's summer and I can't even enjoy the night sky He's going to find someone else It's okay I tell myself It's okay he tells me What will happen will happen But memories of all the good times shared burn my mind And the tears stream down my cheeks It's okay he says We can make it he says Part of me wants to believe it, he and I have talked everything out But another part of me says to break it off now. Why risk getting hurt when he leaves you for someone else? No other college relationship works, you're just a stupid high school girlfriend My conscious fights over this endlessly but he still tells me it's okay I just want the anxiety to end The lightning bugs fade And the cicadas go silent Tortured sleep comes to me once more under the beautiful night sky
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43
Our  own meeting has no end , no outer shell, it does not float. It only searches within its depths to find a bottom to pitch its anchor and looses itself within the  colours of an ever changing earth. Without air it gets carried away and shines like a fire, unquenched and remote from evil tongues and envious eyes. Ostracizing dark thoughts and delighting within its womb. It remembers from always and lives on  forever and within the moonlit dust it travels upon wings. An aura which is immaterial and wonders intoxicated it sings you an icy lullaby..
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Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
OUR MEETING
Crawling, slowly, firmly, effortless towards me. Billowing from sea over hills, the blue sky is envious of its charm. What can it offer but a backdrop of blue? Its ever morphing silhouette captures our gaze and fascinates. Not to be revisited, once witnessed, suddenly changed. Forever, only in memory it plays. Lie back, enjoy it's visions, for it is past, as quickly as it came.
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
Clouds
A sudden jealousy a envious eye. A voiceless pattern within this head of mine. A vigilant figure, watchful eye. A masked emotion on a blazing red sky. I don't dare voice my thoughts because they are of scorn, my inside twist scary storms. A feeling, a urge to should, a voice so broken to see her stripped but to me she does not belong so i numb this pain till i see it rain away.
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Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 2:00 AM UTC
X. Jealousy
She was wild like skinny dipping at midnight, stars watching overhead and falling in love with moonlight. The way it lay upon her skin made the ocean envious of her depths within and sometimes between us. She was my sister, not in blood but in orbit. A Venus to my Earth, forged from the same collapsing star and if the universe was in fact to be infinite then this moment would happen again, and again, and again an immeasurable number of times. I found comfort in this thought, knowing though our existence was meaningless, it was still full of feeling, and this feeling, right now, it insisted on existing forever.
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Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
She Was Wild
*A coarse, yellow coat with dark spot aplenty Lean as a greyhound with limb long and lengthy, Faster than hare from a cold standing start Impossibly glimpsed in tall grasses that part. Crystaline jewels in two huge hazel eyes With the svelt of a feline’s cold killing surprise, Explosively quick with an elegant gait And a murderous jaw full of canines that wait For a fleeing gazelle or a springbok at speed Then a launch that would emulate bullet, when freed. Incredibly smooth with a fast loping stride That would tax any racehorse an envious ride, Snapping manouvers to left and to right That mirror a quarry’s evasions of flight. A blur in a frantic explosion of dust Then the life blood erupts, splashing red as the rust. Heaving great flanks after thrill of the chase Wide open muzzle and gore on the face, Guarding the game till the kittens locate Then the spoils of the chase will make portions dictate.* Marshalg Serengetti Plain Central Africa 30 November 2012
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 5:46 PM UTC
Cheetah
We are young, but much older We are loved, though only by a few of us We remain restless We watch out of our windows envious at success stories Those who have written chapters of promise and wealth We are the world's forgotten children-who once played in the backyard of our land and kingdom and who swam in oceans of eternal youth Strangers rob us blind-and we know it We try to convince ourselves that we are strong, but we shiver clothesless We know what is wrong, but we do it anyway School failed us Society has ***** and stolen our identities And we watch our neighbors die without saying goodbye Our friends have long left us The church we grew up in is now just a cold, abandoned house; the ghosts never leave They lived in another lifetime, but we all stay here for safety   So carry me in your arms and hold me tight Let us take what is yours- you are little mice and we prey on you like hawks We want what was ours We love the excitement at the expense of others We become our own victims and kidnap our freewill. We learn, though, and see our shadows in the dark The silhouettes fool others into believing we are bigger than what we are We leave them painted on the walls so we are always remembered The goal is to stain something so deep onto the world that we immortalize ourselves, thus we are not vanished along with our bodies
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Apr 14, 2012
Apr 14, 2012 at 3:31 PM UTC
The Happy, Sad, and Unemployed
I've written about the wind More than countless times. I've always been so envious Of it's freedom. But now more than ever The jealousy burns me The air How it moves and turns It's free And it can touch you. It gets to brush those lips I miss, And swirl around in your lungs. It's ubiquitous limbs Brush up against your arms And weave between those fingers it can hold your hands like I used to it can do everything I can't. but what I'm most covetous of how it can watch you and rest it's head against you how it can twist in between the cracks in your smile. the wind is my enemy she is the temptress that mocks me she laughs while I cry because she lives in your lips and you have no idea
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Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
Wind envy
Love  be not selfish Love be not jealous Love be not envious Love be not rude Love be not idle Love be an emotion Love be faithful Love be forgiving Love be a want Love be a hope Love be a need Love be joy Love be selfless Love be true Love be kind Love be patient Love be righteous Love be respectful Love be trusting Love be a home filled with children's laughter. Love is greeting a stranger with a sincere smile. Love is treating others with care, taking a small moment in all our activities to consider the next person. Looking at our world, if love was a species, surely it it would be a protected species. So Is love still alive ? I'm sure yes God created us in his image God is love So Love was Our species (the human) Love should be me Love should be you Love should be a nation Love should be our race What have we become?
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Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 12:55 AM UTC
Love
I speak in praise of the ******** yes, and as a male, I decline to be clandestine about this. The reason I so admire the ******** is that it's the female's key to being multiply ******** and frankly, I'm in awe of this. You see, the male ***** can't compare because, of course, it has a dual purpose.   It wasn't put there just for bliss, which is the only purpose of the ******** Males must just resign themselves to their dangling ganglia, the **** which is so easy to malign compared to the delicate paradigm of the **** and its remarkable economy of design. Now I realize that females may be suspicious of my focus on their ******** but actually, I think it’s ingenious.   My own discovery of this was serendipitous and propitious. You see? Really, I’m envious of the ******** because it's indefatigable and delectable, (I think she likes a little nibble), and anyway, there’s not much point in trying to distinguish between *********** and the ******** So there's my poem to the little **** with admiration and respect. I speak in praise of the ******** Truly. A gift for all of us.
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Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 4:47 PM UTC
Ode to the ********
Alone I stand, Forgotten how to trust, A title I am brand, For the knife in my back ****** In envious lust, A pack once thought, Once united as one, A battle together once fought. Till our pack shrivelled down to none, Now alone, In haunting silence, No pacts just on my own, In daunting defiance, Forgotten, With all the loyalties won in wars, My trust wilted and rotten, Torn by deceits hateful claws, A Wounded wolf still raw, A lone wolf forever will I be, A wounded wolf with scars I wore, A lone wolf for everyone to see.
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Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 1:24 PM UTC
Lone Wolf
critical thinking as you call it; that which I seem to lack. need to improve upon. and I agree in ways. you said, it is observing the situation, the pieces, I have at hand, and deducing the best possible way in my knowledge to make them fit together. sounds quite simple - common sense. simple, if my mind ran as smoothly as your own. a trait of yours I admire greatly. a trait of others I am envious of. but critical thinking is different when my mode of thinking is not the same I do not see my surroundings; my life, my reality, as cogs and gears that progress this existence. I admire the way you, and others pick up on the little small hidden artifacts that allow yourself to discover the best possible way to proceed. if I were to say, you noticed the overlooked and finer details, I would say I notice- no- I experience awareness of it's entirety. how it feels to me and how I feel about it. if our individual thought processes were placed in an ever changing river, whose currents vary and are unpredictable? yours would be picking up the driftwood the sticks, and objects in grasp. and as the current carries it, it would be constructing a raft to stay afloat: safe and in the most comfortable way, so it could eventually construct something suitable and sturdy to rest upon, and relax with content, while enjoying the splashes and warm sunlight from a safe spot. instead of deducing the situation as yours did, my thought process would drift along the same river, letting the current take it under - if that is where it felt like going. finding logs and debris to hang on to when the current became too much and it needed a break. yours may be high and dry, but mine has felt the pebbles along the bottom of this river - the depth and pressure almost frightening, but the experience in itself always beautiful. mine floats upon it's back, like an otter, enjoying the sunlight as yours does, experiencing this journey through the rivers path. and maybe, if the current gets rough, if mine is struggling, it will find the hand of yours lifting it up to keep it safe until the rocky waters have passed. I experience as I feel, which may not be the best approach all of the time. but with this, I am able to feel what I believe is the best choice, based on my experience of the whole. you make me feel and want to try new ways of thinking, new ways that may help. you are always pushing pushing me to do more to be more; which is just one of the many reasons why I love you.
0
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 3:49 AM UTC
CRITICAL THINKING
critical thinking as you call it; that which I seem to lack. need to improve upon. and I agree in ways. you said, it is observing the situation, the pieces, I have at hand, and deducing the best possible way in my knowledge to make them fit together. sounds quite simple - common sense. simple, if my mind ran as smoothly as your own. a trait of yours I admire greatly. a trait of others I am envious of. but critical thinking is different when my mode of thinking is not the same I do not see my surroundings; my life, my reality, as cogs and gears that progress this existence. I admire the way you, and others pick up on the little small hidden artifacts that allow yourself to discover the best possible way to proceed. if I were to say, you noticed the overlooked and finer details, I would say I notice- no- I experience awareness of it's entirety. how it feels to me and how I feel about it. if our individual thought processes were placed in an ever changing river, whose currents vary and are unpredictable? yours would be picking up the driftwood the sticks, and objects in grasp. and as the current carries it, it would be constructing a raft to stay afloat: safe and in the most comfortable way, so it could eventually construct something suitable and sturdy to rest upon, and relax with content, while enjoying the splashes and warm sunlight from a safe spot. instead of deducing the situation as yours did, my thought process would drift along the same river, letting the current take it under - if that is where it felt like going. finding logs and debris to hang on to when the current became too much and it needed a break. yours may be high and dry, but mine has felt the pebbles along the bottom of this river - the depth and pressure almost frightening, but the experience in itself always beautiful. mine floats upon it's back, like an otter, enjoying the sunlight as yours does, experiencing this journey through the rivers path. and maybe, if the current gets rough, if mine is struggling, it will find the hand of yours lifting it up to keep it safe until the rocky waters have passed. I experience as I feel, which may not be the best approach all of the time. but with this, I am able to feel what I believe is the best choice, based on my experience of the whole. you make me feel and want to try new ways of thinking, new ways that may help. you are always pushing pushing me to do more to be more; which is just one of the many reasons why I love you.
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166
i watched you dance in the middle of the neon lit room and as much as i loved you i could not help but feel envious. there was jealousy i could have sworn would **** me jealousy for the way you could move your body to the beats of youthfulness jealousy for the way you could smile and laugh with slightly drunken people you didn't even know jealousy for your confidence in the restless crowds jealousy for the way you acted so carelessly on friday nights the way i wish i could
0
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 12:19 PM UTC
friday jealousy
You are my soulmate.  Everyday You keep me sane. You teach me how to be a better person. Everything you are is what i lack and desire to be. I'm envious of your loyalty to your word and to the people that you care about, your kindness and compassion for everyone around you , your integrity to think everything through and make sure everything you do is/was the right decision, and your honesty to yourself. And even though you are moving on to your next chapter in your life soon, what has kept our friendship so strong and what will keep us close for a long time is always being able to have one an other and truly know and understand each other and accept each other for everything that we are, and having that equal balance of give it take, and knowing that no matter what we are there for each other and would do anything for one an other. And Even though you won't be able to have the people you love in your next chapter, I know for a fact that you will be right at home in Utah, it will feel right and you'll be happy. But I can also guarantee you that there'll be bumps in the road but I know with everything in me that you will be ok and will get through them because you always make the right decisions for yourself and because you have a good head on your shoulder and you know yourself more than anyone else.  And no matter what pulls us apart, our friendship and our memories will keep us together.
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 9:16 PM UTC
Soulmate
My 2 Cents “the advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.” Let me start by mentioning that I don’t usually get involved with political matters, but in this case, I’d say it’s more of a basic human rights matter. I’m a man, and I’m a feminist. I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with three women; my mother and two older sisters. Growing up with them gave me an enormous amount of respect for women, (even though I may have lost a certain amount of socially expected masculinity along the way), and their current lives continue to increase my respect for the opposite gender. My oldest sister is leaving to study abroad at Oxford in less than a week to major in philosophy. Philosophy. She also graduated high school with a 4.0 and was involved in power lifting competitions and is enlisted in ROTC. Simply put, she’s an animal. She’s worked hard her entire life and I’d hate to see a world that put that hard work to waste. My other sister is working three jobs to pay her way through college and is planning to major in psychology. I’m always envious of her work ethic and level of commitment to not only her education, but to her friends and family as well. My mother has been my backbone since I was a child. She was always the one I turned to in times of trouble, and continues to be. She works hard everyday, while going through mentally straining marriage problems, and comes home and still asks me about my day. She has given me nothing but unconditional love for my entire existence. For these reasons, it boggles my mind why anyone would ever be anti-feminism. I am genuinely confused as to why, because their bodies are different, women get less privileges, respect, opportunities, and even money. I just don’t get it. I am also disgusted that women are seen by most men as walking ****** organs. l will admit genuine guilt to using the number scale to “rate” women. It’s something I grew up with, but now it sickens me. Assigning a number to a woman based on your misguided views on how she should look, whether you would **** her, is something I find repulsive. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the opposite *** but no one gives a **** about your stupid opinion, especially the woman. I hope someday if I ever have a daughter that she will have the privilege of living in a country of gender equality, tolerance, and open-mindedness. Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in. I am a man. I am a feminist. Peace.
0
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
My Two Cents
My 2 Cents “the advocacy of women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.” Let me start by mentioning that I don’t usually get involved with political matters, but in this case, I’d say it’s more of a basic human rights matter. I’m a man, and I’m a feminist. I was lucky enough to grow up in a home with three women; my mother and two older sisters. Growing up with them gave me an enormous amount of respect for women, (even though I may have lost a certain amount of socially expected masculinity along the way), and their current lives continue to increase my respect for the opposite gender. My oldest sister is leaving to study abroad at Oxford in less than a week to major in philosophy. Philosophy. She also graduated high school with a 4.0 and was involved in power lifting competitions and is enlisted in ROTC. Simply put, she’s an animal. She’s worked hard her entire life and I’d hate to see a world that put that hard work to waste. My other sister is working three jobs to pay her way through college and is planning to major in psychology. I’m always envious of her work ethic and level of commitment to not only her education, but to her friends and family as well. My mother has been my backbone since I was a child. She was always the one I turned to in times of trouble, and continues to be. She works hard everyday, while going through mentally straining marriage problems, and comes home and still asks me about my day. She has given me nothing but unconditional love for my entire existence. For these reasons, it boggles my mind why anyone would ever be anti-feminism. I am genuinely confused as to why, because their bodies are different, women get less privileges, respect, opportunities, and even money. I just don’t get it. I am also disgusted that women are seen by most men as walking ****** organs. l will admit genuine guilt to using the number scale to “rate” women. It’s something I grew up with, but now it sickens me. Assigning a number to a woman based on your misguided views on how she should look, whether you would **** her, is something I find repulsive. There’s nothing wrong with admiring the opposite *** but no one gives a **** about your stupid opinion, especially the woman. I hope someday if I ever have a daughter that she will have the privilege of living in a country of gender equality, tolerance, and open-mindedness. Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in. I am a man. I am a feminist. Peace.
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15
darling girl, why do you cry yourself to sleep every night praying for someone to come along and give you love, to stay up with you till three in the morning and listen attentively as you list off all of your passions, worries, burdens to be envious of your attention to kiss your forehead and hold you without judgement to be there for you when you feel alone to assure you everything will be okay and remind you that every sunrise and crashing wave is a chance to make things right when I’m right here waiting for you with open arms, ready to replenish every empty space in your heart because although you’re imperfect and you hate the way your front tooth is slightly crooked I see you perfectly darling girl, why haven’t you opened your eyes to realize that I’ve been here for you all along
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Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 12:48 PM UTC
love, Jesus
In a time, when men were the superheroes, born in an unconventional location, a young girl, unknown to the future she was destined to, was born with a uniqueness unfound in all people, a superpower of empathy and as she grew, the world knew she was imbued as a living embodiment of legends: Athena's wisdom, beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite, conversational skills that made Hermes envious, and strength that Hercules could never attain. As she approached an age, when her parents would trust her to be guardian, her powers manifested. This incredible child was now a woman. With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge poison that had afflicted a person, even their hearts, a God-given gift for those most sacred; her correspondences exponentially developed, able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature, this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity. Now, fully grown, this super-no- This Wonder Woman had retired her duties to save the world, not forsake it, but, to train Wonder Girl, her daughter, to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her. She still looks up at the Higher Power and realizes her duty to provide the world justice is not over but only beginning. Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged and was gifted a bulletproof bracelet, forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction of all that is wise and healing. Given to her to wear so that nothing could halt her as she continues her fate to provide the world a humanity that could only come from an intrinsically true dear heart.
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May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Ode to Mama
In a time, when men were the superheroes, born in an unconventional location, a young girl, unknown to the future she was destined to, was born with a uniqueness unfound in all people, a superpower of empathy and as she grew, the world knew she was imbued as a living embodiment of legends: Athena's wisdom, beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite, conversational skills that made Hermes envious, and strength that Hercules could never attain. As she approached an age, when her parents would trust her to be guardian, her powers manifested. This incredible child was now a woman. With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge poison that had afflicted a person, even their hearts, a God-given gift for those most sacred; her correspondences exponentially developed, able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature, this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity. Now, fully grown, this super-no- This Wonder Woman had retired her duties to save the world, not forsake it, but, to train Wonder Girl, her daughter, to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her. She still looks up at the Higher Power and realizes her duty to provide the world justice is not over but only beginning. Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged and was gifted a bulletproof bracelet, forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction of all that is wise and healing. Given to her to wear so that nothing could halt her as she continues her fate to provide the world a humanity that could only come from an intrinsically true dear heart.
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49
open field, ***** hands, chewed-down nails I stood at my door and had a fine breakfast: warm breeze over-easy on a gravel-bagel, a side of spiced bird calls tasted envious, baked humidity that I ate with my feet, O, to be a head chef of intention.
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Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 6:50 PM UTC
Head Chef of Intention
for those who are concerned; I dispersed within the vastness of outer space. My body, once caged all the stars, are finally in its resting place. Maybe here, I am finally seen by those who romanticize the deathly night. I am at a tranquil state, where all the planets are aligned just right. No deaths, no violence, no wars, no fights. No existential pain or crisis to plague a human's state of mind. I am bound within the molecules of space and time, dancing on asteroids, I am entwined. Finally, my body is free from the darkest of pains that had wallowed in my rib cage. All the bottled emotions that had forever kept me enraged. I have exploded into a beautiful mess, now the size of silica. I am in motion, twinkling for those bellow in such a sorrowful world, as they paint me in Starry Night replicas. They'll be envious to hear that I am conversing with Van Gogh himself. We are in the cloudless night, a painting in a museum, and history within books on a bookshelf. We're sprinkled in the dark like a beautiful combustion. All the answers written in the stars for what we once questioned. He tells me "be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high." And that was enough for me to just get by. I am a galaxy, freed in the vastness of the universe. Into this new life of neighboring planets and meteors, my body will immerse. I am the stars you see on your lonely nights. And this time, please take your time to analyze my light. I know I'm a mess, but I can make it beautiful. For what it's worth, I once took the form of a dying artist, whom was so mutable.
0
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 7:55 PM UTC
When An Artist Dies.
for those who are concerned; I dispersed within the vastness of outer space. My body, once caged all the stars, are finally in its resting place. Maybe here, I am finally seen by those who romanticize the deathly night. I am at a tranquil state, where all the planets are aligned just right. No deaths, no violence, no wars, no fights. No existential pain or crisis to plague a human's state of mind. I am bound within the molecules of space and time, dancing on asteroids, I am entwined. Finally, my body is free from the darkest of pains that had wallowed in my rib cage. All the bottled emotions that had forever kept me enraged. I have exploded into a beautiful mess, now the size of silica. I am in motion, twinkling for those bellow in such a sorrowful world, as they paint me in Starry Night replicas. They'll be envious to hear that I am conversing with Van Gogh himself. We are in the cloudless night, a painting in a museum, and history within books on a bookshelf. We're sprinkled in the dark like a beautiful combustion. All the answers written in the stars for what we once questioned. He tells me "be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high." And that was enough for me to just get by. I am a galaxy, freed in the vastness of the universe. Into this new life of neighboring planets and meteors, my body will immerse. I am the stars you see on your lonely nights. And this time, please take your time to analyze my light. I know I'm a mess, but I can make it beautiful. For what it's worth, I once took the form of a dying artist, whom was so mutable.
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23
If poisonous minerals, and if that tree Whose fruit threw death on else immortal us, If lecherous goats, if serpents envious Cannot be damn'd, alas, why should I be? Why should intent or reason, born in me, Make sins, else equal, in me more heinous? And mercy being easy, and glorious To God, in his stern wrath why threatens he? But who am I, that dare dispute with thee, O God? Oh, of thine only worthy blood And my tears, make a heavenly Lethean flood, And drown in it my sins' black memory. That thou remember them, some claim as debt; I think it mercy, if thou wilt forget.
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Holy Sonnets: If poisonous minerals, and if that tree
People take the world as they see it themselves some see black some see white many see grey as for me? I see it for what it is....technicolored.                                                                                                   Life is far to wonderful and bright too see it as simple black                                        it is too deep and mysterious to be only white it is too exciting and amazing to be described as grey There's a reason that there is color present everywhere. If the world were colorless, so life would be.                                                                                                    But the autumn leaves are crimson and gold and apricot The halls in which we walk are of light saphron and amber                                                        The city streets in which we trod are spurted with shades of periwinkle and magenta The meadows through which we stroll have flowers of violet and buds of rose                                                         The trees with which we have our yuletide celebration are the solemn green   Life is as we see it dont be strapped down to bland colors like                                          grey                     white                              black Life is color Furious Scarlet                             Dejected Sapphire                                                                  Joyful Fuscia                                                                                               Envious Sage                                                                                                                                     Playful Yellow Even as you look in the mirror, colors are shown to you. I see eyes of chocolate                                     cheeks of mauve                                                                          teeth of pearl                                                                                                             lips of ruby                                                                                                                                            skin of gold Even my soul is multicolored in all its numerous facets                                                        Dont let yourself be barred into the cell of neutrality                                                                                                    See life for the rainbow that it truly is.
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Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 3:27 AM UTC
Rose Colored Glasses
People take the world as they see it themselves some see black some see white many see grey as for me? I see it for what it is....technicolored.                                                                                                   Life is far to wonderful and bright too see it as simple black                                        it is too deep and mysterious to be only white it is too exciting and amazing to be described as grey There's a reason that there is color present everywhere. If the world were colorless, so life would be.                                                                                                    But the autumn leaves are crimson and gold and apricot The halls in which we walk are of light saphron and amber                                                        The city streets in which we trod are spurted with shades of periwinkle and magenta The meadows through which we stroll have flowers of violet and buds of rose                                                         The trees with which we have our yuletide celebration are the solemn green   Life is as we see it dont be strapped down to bland colors like                                          grey                     white                              black Life is color Furious Scarlet                             Dejected Sapphire                                                                  Joyful Fuscia                                                                                               Envious Sage                                                                                                                                     Playful Yellow Even as you look in the mirror, colors are shown to you. I see eyes of chocolate                                     cheeks of mauve                                                                          teeth of pearl                                                                                                             lips of ruby                                                                                                                                            skin of gold Even my soul is multicolored in all its numerous facets                                                        Dont let yourself be barred into the cell of neutrality                                                                                                    See life for the rainbow that it truly is.
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35
This is how far it goes Now that your smile causes me pain How you walk past me makes me envious. Hope my throat won’t suffer from goiter Since saliva can’t flow like it used to You surely know how to hurt me Without even a single touch Modeling in my face without even a simple wave It’s the same place we live But different lifestyles Am high on memories, of that one day When you said the words I keep recycling in my brain
0
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 7:54 AM UTC
COLD HEARTED
I wish to disambiguate to explicate; expanciate: I do not begrudge polyamory, and whatever Love entails to any particular person, for I once was polyamorous; I understand some of the ways in which polyamory can work. Usually when single, or otherwise in an open relationship. I also do not begrudge sluttiness; everyone needs some and some can't resist. Besides, it is noble to work such charity. Who am I, who once sought such charity, to demonize it? I, who have lusts and desires? I do, however, take grievous offense to One in a relationship who tells their partner they're soulmates and who, instead of agreeing to end the monogamous relationship, goes and sleeps around and cheats on their "soulmate", moreover if over and over. It's hard to cope with such deep hurt, and I wish to convey my apologies for my rash hybridized expressions of Anger, Frustration and Hubris. Perhaps it perturbs me so simply because it reminds me of who I once could be and was. Perhaps it irks me so because I'm envious. Again; Polyamory is not a Sin; but before you just go **** someone at least be single or in an open relationship; it isn't only you who is affected by your choices, and I know that's hard to see when you are so young. Don't hold back who you really are, but please; don't cheat others in the process. Not only is Karma a ***** but so can Retribution be; you never know what One scorned is capable of; the next time you cheat someone they may not fall back on mere words; A few more years in this World may teach you that such Anarchy doth go both ways, my dear; Vigilante Justice knows few bounds: Don't take too many chances when it comes to who you **** nor when it comes to who you **** over.
0
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 7:39 PM UTC
Polyamory is not a Sin
I wish to disambiguate to explicate; expanciate: I do not begrudge polyamory, and whatever Love entails to any particular person, for I once was polyamorous; I understand some of the ways in which polyamory can work. Usually when single, or otherwise in an open relationship. I also do not begrudge sluttiness; everyone needs some and some can't resist. Besides, it is noble to work such charity. Who am I, who once sought such charity, to demonize it? I, who have lusts and desires? I do, however, take grievous offense to One in a relationship who tells their partner they're soulmates and who, instead of agreeing to end the monogamous relationship, goes and sleeps around and cheats on their "soulmate", moreover if over and over. It's hard to cope with such deep hurt, and I wish to convey my apologies for my rash hybridized expressions of Anger, Frustration and Hubris. Perhaps it perturbs me so simply because it reminds me of who I once could be and was. Perhaps it irks me so because I'm envious. Again; Polyamory is not a Sin; but before you just go **** someone at least be single or in an open relationship; it isn't only you who is affected by your choices, and I know that's hard to see when you are so young. Don't hold back who you really are, but please; don't cheat others in the process. Not only is Karma a ***** but so can Retribution be; you never know what One scorned is capable of; the next time you cheat someone they may not fall back on mere words; A few more years in this World may teach you that such Anarchy doth go both ways, my dear; Vigilante Justice knows few bounds: Don't take too many chances when it comes to who you **** nor when it comes to who you **** over.
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78
They enter the café just as some sappy pop song is playing They order then immediately hug Embrace Swaying to one side, together, like the wind Encircling the leaning tower of Pisa Then teetering to the other solstice Foot to foot, smile to smile, hand round skirted waist Forearm resting on his tall  blazered shoulders This is forgivable in the young Those teeny-boppers with defiant hair-cuts and posters However, he has peppered hair She, though voluptuous and tanned, Must be in her 30s. “Affair.” My cynical devil snickers, between sips But I sit mesmerized, and for the first time ever Envious. The chairs and the tables somehow seem more distant The song  now sounds as if it’s funneled through some crackling phonograph The very light disentangles itself from stones It’s as if a sky has opened up in my chest Flying high overhead,  one lone raven, Its slow shadow Gliding across my heart Oh, how I miss you 5 states away I see your smile on magazine covers I vaguely sniff your scent on passing women Yet you remain elusive - immaterial, haunting,   While this visceral assault Leaves me bewildered - empty An echo in a chiaroscuro cavern   Fading for thee
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Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
Letters from N.M.