"envision" poems
I’m strong, I can stand
against the buffeting winds
that try push me down.
(I’m weak, too easy I fall,
giving in to the pressure
that mounts from within.)
In the face of your discrimination,
I’m courageous
(I fear your abuse)
Yes, I am strong.
Though my gnarled hands
bend with age,
my roots…
(break, there is no
vigor left in me)
Sighing...my mind twists
that which should grow
into a solid foundation,
turning it into
(groans of pain,
mental anguish.
Weakness takes over)
A tired thought dances
through dim light,
bringing some joy
into the
(bleak. All I see are
shadows. Mocking shadows.)
Once I believed I had it,
an inner strength to deal
with anything.
(Like a mirage, my spirit
couldn’t grasp what it needed.)
Now I envision…
no, I see what I truly am.
My hands are wringing,
I’m cold...so cold.
I am
not
strong.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
Procrastination?
What is that I've never heard of such a thing.
But maybe because I'm to busy procrastinating to hear it,
I am mike,
I am not a poet, a leader, a storyteller, or an academic,
I am a dreamer, a gamer, a man of many things,
I would rather let life pass me by and sit in my game,
Than to deal with the drama of reality.
It is not that I don't like reality,
It is that reality is too busy,
With school and work
Facebook and friends
Learning and imagining
Are they even one in the same
I love my games because it allows my mind to run wild
From building empires in Minecraft to taming creatures in Pokemon
Games are a way I can re envision my world
They allow kids to show their creative side something education removed long ago.
So I stand before you asking,
What is procrastination,
I'd rather play my game and imagine.
My life seems to pass by but in my one life span I have lived dozens of others.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 7:53 AM UTC
When we look into today,
*Do our minds dial back to 16 June '76 to envision the torment
Our fallen heroes endured?
Is your vision blurred?
Mine isn't.
Their fight was just,
It was sacrificial
One by one they perished
But, even with blood and sweat slipping
Through their trembling fingers
They did not falter
They pushed boundaries
In order to create opportunities
They had a burning desire
For something greater,
For freedom
The freedom that we now bask in
Like it's just another day of leisure
"The youth of today are the leaders
of tomorrow", they say
Look in the mirror,
Are you really the leader of tomorrow?
Do you fit somewhere in that statement?
Me: No
Do we have the will to stand
Firm for what's right,
Against what's wrong
Or do we clam up, let the
Truth escape through broken doors?
We feed the stereotypes,
We fit perfectly into the stereotypes
We've been dubbed insubstantial,
Not layered, and one dimensional
What are we really after?
What are we doing to change that perspective?
No- what am I doing to change that??
Ask yourself, what would the
world have lost if you were not born?
Me: Nothing
But there are those who
understand that the meaning of "struggle"
Goes beyond the dictionary definition,
Those who look at the world
With crystal clear eyes
Those looking to make a difference
Those looking for a difference
We may be in freedom,
but we're not free at all
The chains are still bound to our
Wrists binding us from reaching
Out to the sun,
The chains are still tied to our
Feet hindering us from going further
We can stand united
Against the ****** government,
Against illiteracy,
Against poverty,
Against pointless wars,
Against abuse.
We can clench up our fists,
Ready to fight for what others
Led way for
I am, by no means, a beacon of
Hope (hypocrisy at it's best)
I'm uninformed, like they say
Ignorance is bliss
But I am not proud of it
We've come far since '94
We still can go further
"Together we can do more"*
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 10:28 AM UTC
This little man that I know with money in his sockets and routine in his pockets has self proclaimed that he is a tight *** When I envision a *** such as this, I imagine a bundle -- of securely aggregated, perfectly sharpened number two pencils. The businessman just shy of adulthood and too tired to remember –even the beginning of his of disclosure, denied his struggle to acclimate a multifarious lifestyle, appropriately suggested in the form of a triangle, and a circle, both of which embody polar opposing adaptations of humanistic routine.
The two shapes: The circle, denies the break in motion by imposing a constant cycle of diligent compression, there is no room for pause only steady flow and relentless drive. This influence of life impression slows down the heart, body, and soul while speeding up time. This particular commitment accommodates the dry colorless beings that embrace and accept boxed imprisonment.
Traditionally, the triangle denotes rhythmic patterns that elevate and drop to a point in which imposes a healthy reflective pause: progression, reflection, balance. As stated, as a provincial approach, a regular triangle flat on its base, peaking at the top represents a healthy, solid life routine. In contrast, the triangle can be flipped upside-down introducing an entirely new dynamic, composed of flat-lined monotony, tapered off to a regressed realm of destruction, regret and disorder. Despite the uniqueness of the standard triangle model to the man in question, it is important to compare the negative reflection, for it applies to the entirety of this investigation.
We used to be lovers, he and I. We shared my giant pillow-top that I bought on the black market for a meager two-hundred fifty. -- A mere steal at that rate.
We occasionally exchanged ideas, mainly about ethical concerns related to globalization and the environment.
I attempted to give him a cooking lesson once, but that failed, indefinitely. The bust was not my doing, but simply, a great disinterest on his part; or better yet an inability of not being better than me at something.
Everything has gotten so crowded.
Jan 18, 2010
Jan 18, 2010 at 1:17 AM UTC
Man of science,
Only sees what is there,
Wants to build the fence.
Man of religion,
Out of nothing sees everything,
Wants to envision the fence.
Man of philosophy,
Out of everything sees nothing,
Wants to sit on the fence.
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 1:06 PM UTC
close your eyes babe
what do you see?
a starry night or a porcelain sky?
is it the shade of navy you love?
i closed my eyes and i saw the world grabbing me gently, pulling me tight and close,
while it whispers sweet nothing in my ear
i envision a love that is endless,
a heart so large that it overflows,
and a passion that even fruits envy.
so tell me darling,
have you a dream to sell me?
Nov 10, 2019
Nov 10, 2019 at 8:48 PM UTC
Lord, she's so beautiful,
but she's still my friend
I've done everything I can
to keep her safe from other men
Which isn't saying much
because this girl's so smart,
but what I've tried to save
is the innocence of her heart
With every bad man in her life
I just try to remain the same
because I've worked so hard
to have such a good name
and be someone that's reliable,
someone that she can trust,
but on my side of the coin
it's more than just lust
I throw her off my scent
by mentioning other girls
Little does she know
that she encompasses my world
How can she not know
that she's what I envision
when I think of the perfect woman
and provide the description?
**** any girl alive
that doesn't think they're beautiful!
Their heads are in the clouds
and their world's in cubicles
One day very soon here
I'll help her open her eyes
and maybe she'll realize
she's known the perfect guy
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
I feel like a friend-- a true friend,
is more than a profile on a website.
And peace is more than a handshake agreement
brought by the outcome of a gruesome fight.
I know that self worth is more than someone's opinion,
and in no other dominion but mine own to foster and care for.
And I can see that happiness is more than having money, sure,
cause most of us laugh everyday here, and come on, we're dirt poor.
And I pray the human soul is more than Casper's counterpart,
somewhere between the heart and the pancreas.
And God, faith is so much more than cryin' and dyin'
over spilt milk between religions.
And in case you were confused, "I love you", is more than
pet names, bed games, and ***
Music is more than pimps, hoes, and MTV Shows, and T-Pain singin through a computer.
Believe that life is more than grades and degrees,
or drugs and disease,
or the 'ABCs' of success that some old man wrote a thousand years ago.
This poem has to be more than words strewn together
to voice my discontent at the status-quo..
Hell, the word "more" itself is more than a one-syllable statment
that what we lack in the present
is just a larger quantity of the **** "we already have",
and no!
The power of your silent agreement is more than that
of my voice alone, so...
What is "more"?
In many ways, "more" is the friend you never had.
More peace in the world would end all the mindless bloodshed.
More respect and selfworth would bring beauty back to youth,
especially to the women in the world,
that sell their unique souls to look like the cover of Cosmo.
More faith, that grants serenity in the times of hardship,
will be the soothing hand of an Angel on our shoulders as
we say, "I love you" to our enemies, martyrs for a better world.
More positive music will inspire us,
to be the change we want to see in the world, today,
instead of, "Waitin' on the World to Change "♫ ♪ ♫♪
So ladies and gentlemen, make a decision: if you want to be
critics and vipers,
war mongers and hope-snipers,
ignore my intention, and live with more division.
But, if any of you are artists starving for meaning and inspiration,
if you envision a world of more than... THIS...
Then let a word change a feeling,
change a thought, change a meaning,
change your mind...
And get more out of life.
Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 1:38 PM UTC
close your eyes…
let your light lids become heavy
like falling asleep in a bed of soft dreams.
quiet your mind with a deep inhale....
breathe with me, and hold for a simple moment
cleanse your mind with a firm exhale.
Focus purely on your breath. Breathe with me. (take three sets of deep breaths)
imagine no thoughts that bother you
ignore the noise that follows your foot steps,
the little buzzes of every day, like fruit flies orbiting succulent peaches
let the noise fly away like those flies, far away
Let go of those days where you find yourself worried…
there is nothing to hold onto that worries you.
you are a strong, magnificent, worry free energy,
clean and sparkling.
Relax,
Envision your mind as a porcelain sink,
and the drain in the center pulls all the noise away,
until there is nothingness, emptiness.
let the darkness behind your eyelids engulf you...
it is warm, it is inviting, it is loving
in this darkness...
there is light.
See and feel this ball of radiant light ripping through the black
that tickles your skin like pins and needles
the most beautiful light you’ve ever seen...
be humble...
this is your love
manifested into an image
that presents itself to you
to show you all the love that your heart holds
it beats into your blood,
your veins,
your energy,
every inch of your physical,
your mental,
your soul...
feel that smooooth, delicate love swim through every morsel of your being,
it gives us light... it gives us life.
...
Create an intention… what do you want most?
Or perhaps, what do you want to give?
What do you… as nobody else but yourself…
want to embody? (take a few moments to gather and intention)
take a deep inhale... (inhale)
upon exhaling, release this intention into the universe...
everything you give will come back.
Let this intention become an extension of yourself
this is you, and you are this.
Now this part of you, the gentle intention, is part of the universe.
and you…
are part of the universe.
thank the cosmos for caring about your mind, body, and spirit, and giving you
this galactic love as you release yours,
and the cycle continues on and on...
feel the warmth of love kiss you tenderly,
let it swallow you and hold you tightly, like a cosmic mother.
you’re an infant again... in the arms of something divine,
feeling pure bliss, like happiness is the only emotion that exists.
happiness becomes organic, it is the ultimate source of life...
happiness becomes the light, and combines itself with love,
making the most beautiful offspring of purity and salvation.
Inhale....
Exhale....
you are new, you are love
let it run like a tranquil river from every one of your pours
hear the liquid love follow the current of your mind’s creek..
hold your intention in your heart, and let it radiate
let yourself be light
let yourself be love.
inhale...
exhale...
© 2016 D.M.V
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 3:40 PM UTC
In the darkest umbra of a shadow
Where time and wraith like dimensions collide
Is the place you can find all man’s sorrows
And woman’s secrets they’ll never confide
In the obscurity of one’s dark gloom
In your contrasting reverse projection of self
You can envision your impending doom
Like a porcelain doll falling from the shelf
Trace the outline of your twisted dark shade
Chalking the ground where your body will be laid
Lying down, your shadow and you become one
While you lie dead under the blazing sun
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
There’s a strong urgency in ************
The longing for there to be another human body
pressed up against your own, so much so you envision
it vividly in your mind, painting hundreds of
thousands of scenarios until you find one just right
for your hand,
for your body.
It's not about pleasure, but about that momentary loss of place and time,
a further commitment to your imagination but
to your loneliness as well.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC
I see,
Your words speak louder than your actions.
Cause,
Opposites attract, I'm feeling your attractions
Lovely,
Are your eyes, how I miss them.
Beautiful,
Full lips, use to **** and kiss them.
Your,
*** taught me passion.
My,
Body's chemical reaction.
Our,
****** our satisfaction.
*******
Came, we didn't reach them.
Soul-mates,
Reacted, we didn't teach them.
Pain,
Over time, made us victim.
Memories,
won't leave my system.
Better,
Off with them.
Pleasures,
envision.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
I wanted to write a poem about the joys simple things. But I’ve lost the meaning of them since I’ve been away it seems. For many years I’ve served duty tours, it’s just the life that I have lived. So I write poems of war and of warriors and death; sometimes it’s all I have left to give.
I picked my brain for images of candlelight picnics on sandy beaches, but I opened the basket looking for ammo to load in my weapon breaches. Oiling my guns may not be romantic, or when I lace my boots up tight, but you can bet your **** it comes in handy when you’re caught in a fire fight.
I tried concentrating as hard as I could, trying to envision more peaceful things. Instead I was reminded of Black Hawks with M240-Bravos in weapon slings. It seems I can’t be normal or think like a normal human being, I’ve been battle hardened inside my soul and this is part of what it brings.
PTSD is what they call it, they say I need some aid, but it just feels like second nature, pulling the pins and throwing grenades. I’ll go home one day and I’ll look the same because my wife can’t see my scars, I’ve hid them all inside myself and that’s what makes this hard.
They tell me I’ve been lucky, I didn’t get a single injury. But the damage was done inside of me and that’s what they don’t see. So I’ll go home a “lucky one” and act like I am fine, and live my days pretending, while keeping this war trapped in my mind.
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 6:07 AM UTC
Skinny *** Poem
(8/11/2014)
Every kid wants to be something when they grow up.
They picture perfect future families with puppies and kittens,
but for me something was missing.
I just wanted to be happy.
Maybe my vision wasn't so great though,
because 'happy' looked like it had 6 letters to me, and spelled 'skinny.'
People used to throw bricks at my glass house.
Shouting that I’d be skinny enough to slip through cracks.
Cracks of life,
cracks of struggle and strife,
cracks of everything not nice.
They'd tease me and say I looked like I smoked crack,
when I'd lose weight,
I'd gain it all back,
in the form of their extra hate.
But I didn't feel skinny on the inside.
Although I had skinny bones and skinny skin,
brittle enough to break within.
Under the pain of that pang
as their bricks shattered my glass house.
Tell me, have you ever been afraid of words?
Thoughts can be terrifying but once turned to spoken word,
that in turn will turn to shouted word,
that in turn will turn to incoherent nonsense.
Which starts a sensation of ear drums ripping,
being sawed in half immediately,
no time spent ticking,
by shrill shrieks and violent vocalizations.
As if a sound wave could burst your body parts faster,
no, more efficiently than a barrage of fists.
Because it will know exactly where to strike,
in fact, it will sneak through your solid surface,
into every single crevice,
knowing where the best place to hurt is.
All it takes is a whisper strategically said in your ear,
'skinny.' 'skinny.' 'skinny.'
I could feel it float away from me,
carried off by the wind.
As if a sound wave could carry an army of statements,
piled up and armed with bayonets of every decibel level,
ready and willing to siege each individual joint crack and muscle ache,
being pushed under imposed stiffness.
It will ooze out your pores, as if your fat face was an instrument amplifier.
They thrived on the thrill listening to my shrill shriek.
As I stepped on shards from my shattered glass house,
And stared into the million fractures,
each a broken reflection of the million me’s I could be.
But none of them skinny... enough,
skinny for everybody else,
but never for me.
I’d envision each day, blood drops staining my glass carpet.
Each ounce of that luscious red,
each day left my body filled with an ounce less of dread.
An ounce less to fit into a size small shirt,
and 30 inch waist Skinny jean.
My body became my own private ****** machine.
Every kid wants to be something when they grow up.
I just wanted to be happy, I mean skinny.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 5:07 AM UTC
M4W - Seeking young **** 17 year old to objectify and kick out of high school prom - must have womanly figure but only be a teenager - fingertip length dresses are OK - must be a child but still able to make me envision having *** with you - will be on the balcony ogling my daughter's friends and high-fiving other dads with my ****
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
In the elevation of spirit, I am seperated;
Drawn apart from the land-dwellers,
I am propelled into the arms of clouds.
Eagerly embracing my new fate amongst stars,
I rewrite the patterns that form my destiny,
As a god amidst the heavens.
I fabricate new avenues as I venture,
Liberated from the fetters of ground,
I find freedom - escaping to new planes.
My sole duty to self,
Uplifting ego; regal in posture,
I am kept aloft of storms in my flight;
A seer, with third eye opening
To envision silver linings and goals.
And even in my solitude I am connected,
Solar energy soaring through veins,
Spreading wings to swallow sun,
I fly with Nut, drifting in meditation,
Each breath an inhalation of frequencies.
As subtle as Oshun,
I am deity as tranquil as stream,
Unbounded and infinite;
A soul of fire, air, ice and earth.
I am element, atom, and energy,
One with universe, a sound ensemble,
I am cosmic pneuma -
A human.
Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 8:50 AM UTC
I...am a man
No, I am a black man
One who walks around with this curse mark upon his hand
As he is drenched with this scorched abomination
Frowned upon by society as if his very existence is a sin
As if he asked to be born this way
Well newsflash for all naive buffoons in the world, he didn't
Now I'm a being who can envision himself soaking in his own blood
Always afraid to walk out his front door because if he does...
He becomes public enemy number one
Forcing him to duck behind cars
Trying to dodge the bullet he got beaming towards his head
I'm a dead man walking attempting to live a normal life
But according to society I can't
According to society I'm a foul beast who acts on impulses
And goes on a rampage because simply can't help it
So I must die before I'm even given a chance to prove myself
I...am a man
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 7:39 PM UTC
Life Coalesced
Envision the rest
Depressed or distressed
Worried less, I invest
May regress or finesse
Life's congruent mess
Mold your self, immaculate
Clear hate and evoke fate
Inspire, create and congratulate
Persevere when near,
Whilst you conquer fear
Happiness untamed
Dreams unattained
Mature and grow wise
In front of your eyes
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
When roaring sorrow
Uprooted me
I envision a lotus flower, staying gently a float upon the pond.
The sun's soothing, comforting light warmed my heart.
Breathing in.... Breathing, gently out.
Releasing both hands
Clasped in pain.
No need to leave
No need to go
The deep sorrow of my heart beating
Rivers of Love's tears upon the pond.
Yet the sunshine never failed.
I am floating gently - to that perfect spot
Within the pond.
I, Lotus flower
Send my tap root deep down below
Taking root, among the other lotus
Beautiful flowers anchored to the pond's murky floor.
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 3:49 PM UTC
With all of your mind, can you imagine…
living a sacred and a victorious Life,
whereby you become more like The Christ?
With all of your heart, can you believe…
that you’re covered by His righteousness
and an embodiment of God’s poetic finesse?
With all of your might, can you achieve…
the desires that He has purposed for you?
Can you envision His promises coming true
when daring to imagine, believe and trust Him?
Only your lack of Faith- can hold you back;
pray continually to fend off ungodly attacks
of evil, that originate within the darkness
of this world; know that you still possess
Salvation and have been… permanently blessed!
.
.
.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
1 John 5:4-5; 2 Cor 5:21; Rom 3:22, 6:23, 8:31-39;
Eph 2:8-10, 6:12; Isa 40:31; John 1:12; Prov 19:21
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC
train myself to write anywhere and at any time...
as commissioned by ms. melan
~'~'~'~'~
so I, being a being,
a poet who carries his mind scheming
with him:
drags along his body and soul,
just in case:
that his hands might feel the touch of
beauty, skin and beyond,
the exteriors of his interiors,
to feel, to feel, to feel
every one of his surfaces,
the reality of his peculiar real
his eyes so one can envision the unimaginable,
and thus, never be satisfied,
for all is
always new,
beyond original
that his ugly, ungainly ears,
may never miss the sound of his tripping & falling
head!over!heels with the realization,
he just might be foolishly
in love
the tastes of life's living that
make his pulse race,
crease his smiling face,
causing his blood pressure so high
he pleads to surrender,
just begging to let his tongue
survive
and smells that arouse,
producing & promising
words proud & profound,
that have yet to succeed
in capturing
the fullness
of the
special musk odor
that masks
allure of attraction
no, not a lot to ask for…
5:26am
SunSep13
two zero two five
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 5:35 AM UTC
And now, the sickness presents itself on my face.
It arrives in the form of two dark circles,
The color of a stranger’s shadow,
Which linger beneath eyes
That have seen too little of the world.
It arrives in the form of skin so sallow,
Of cheekbones so sunken,
Of a mouth too tired to open
And say all the words I wish held more meaning.
And I long for sleep,
I ache for sleep.
As the hours pass,
My limbs become as weak as my will.
If I only had an enemy lesser than consciousness,
I could have won by now.
But every time I envision the sweet escape
Of unconsciousness,
My broken-record-mind violently hurls me back
Into my abandoned realm of reality.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 8:23 PM UTC
Can I gently lure myself into your life?
Make you feel as you’re forever in my arms, when you’re alone in bed at night?
Whisper all the sweet words into your ear until I see you slowly and slowly fall into my deception and lies
Make all things that’s wrong feel ever so right
May I lead you into my home and gently place you on my bed
Look straight into your eyes and speak words of significant meaning
As if they wore worthless and dead
Can I bring comfort into your heart?
I’ll make you feel so loved and serene
I’ll disguise myself as being the man of your dreams
While I prey on my next victim to control and lead astray
In the same manner I lit up your light blue sky, I'll make em truly dark and gray
Can I drag you into my deceit, forcing you to make me the center of your life?
Can I pretend to love you and untruthfully envision you as my wife?
Portraying to be your blessing,
Disguising the hidden lesson
I‘ll make you fall so deeply in love with me
That you will have to pray with all of your might
For the Lord to bring you out of the darkness and make everything vivid and bright
Can I take you on pointless dates and sit through meaningless movies and earn my way between your legs?
Cognizant that this bond means loyalty and trust to you so I’ll take it slow and just **** you instead
Can I make you believe that I AM the man that can protect you from all the hurt that this world can bring?
Then I WILL up and leave you on a beautiful day without any logic reasoning
Why?
Because I seen a woman with more beautiful eyes.
I seen a lady that smelled as sweet as a rose.
I seen a gorgeous woman with a smaller nose.
I seen a lady with a beautiful body and attitude so fierce.
I seen a woman with a smile that'd burn the sun and hair flowing past her ears.
I tricked you into developing such love for me that, I took it from your mind to love yourself
I display myself as a perfect man, so you wouldn’t go and fall for someone else
Like a thief in the night I snuck in your life in the mist of you lying hopeless
I played your Knight in Shining Armor because I knew you were a Damsel in Distress
Your weaknesses, I feed on until I began to bore myself of fraud
When I seen that love was all you needed
I valuated my hand
Weighed my decisions
And I played my cards
Copy Right 2013
©Patty Ann
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:57 AM UTC
City lamps in clusters of concrete
On 18th and Sherman street
The cars pass by scanning me
Each unsound engine roaring
Darting pupils
I feel it on my externals
On my lips and phalanges
Intruding glances cascading over
my silhouette
Deja-vu-like resemblances,
strange
Sunken cheeks look bizarre
and blotchy as the socket drains
something toxic to the veins
that's permeated the future in an instant, like a comet,
encandescent and shimmering like a scale, the awareness fades
Like some dreary mirage
I remember those little band aids
Vintage carnival tickets
discarded on the scratchy ground..
Blue-violet bruises
The paradox of pleasure
A vague creature in
it's discomfort
sitting in defiance and
quivering my sentences
It reminded me of those
incandescent bugs that
smush into Chryslers
With a curled lip, bulging eyes
and ******* up tongue...
Antennaes intertwined like
Twizzlers
Making peace with all
that's stung as the
windshield wipers turn on
Some black tar-smack-oil-
******
My generation consists of
inheriting environmental
destruction and mal-parenting
Global warming. Animal extinction.
Polluting the oceans. Deforestation.
Biting shards off night-time to
suffice for the daily pangs
Shuffling the dregs of karma
to grow roots and vines all about the room
It's not Winter yet
Under this morning dew
I envision it in my mind
A crystal ball vision
contorting into smoke
I caught it in my breath
Catatonically hanging
A turtle with it's legs bending toward the sky
Searching for my tribe and a pulse
on this Earth in sentient souls
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC
You close your eyes and see my face
smiling, laughing, loving
A time when nothing is out of place
and all your fears are temporarily displaced
Envision the fantasy...
My touch of oblivion, of space
singing, ringing, tingling
As the moon rises across your lace
across your senses shooting stars race
Reaching you across an endless sea
Your tongue dances around your lips with grace
dreaming, thirsting, yearning
Hoping that I suddenly fill this space
to put my skin around your quivering embrace
To end this hungry misery
But when you wake, by a pillow I am replaced
plain, sane, vain
Lonely fear begins to creep from someplace
One phone call and I'll come running to embrace
Enlace my fingers around your heart, Lovely
Aug 2, 2011
Aug 2, 2011 at 3:28 PM UTC