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jane taylor May 2016
the ring of fire
burnt my soul
to nothingness

just when
i thought…..

‘death’

a breath
drew me in
and spewed me out

not gone now
but pure essence

©2016janetaylor
Keith W Fletcher Aug 2018
This adventure we're on
through this space we Transit
where compassion seems
to be all shadow
And sadly non-essential
to this Garden of Life
we are growing
that is Bane of music
or sunshine
a treeless desert
Of lost hopes
or even any
realistic design
for any future
we would want
we will need
were hoped for
Nature has been threatened
by the whims of those men
who have no notion
of what will happen
if they allow the oceans
to rise up and dog our steps
into a future
into a world
that we will never  again
recognize
Today while I was at work I saw a little girl grab some candy from the shelf and shake it in front of her mom to make sure she didn't forget to buy it. As she inched closer to the counter where I was scanning all of the items all I could see were the little girls eyes and the hands that hung on to the edge of the counter. She was so tiny and was still holding the candy in her hand, so excited. Liberated.

I don’t know why that made me so nauseous but all I knew was that this little girl was given a handful of years on this earth just like me. In that instant all I really wanted to do was stop time for this little girl that I knew absolutely nothing about and give her that opportunity to enjoy her candy bar to the very last crumb and let her lick clean the left-over smudged chocolate on her small fingers and small corners of her mouth.

I hope it pleases you to know that she did enjoy it, I didn't need to stop time for her to manage that. As kids, we don’t really have that extreme perception of time and maybe that’s what so beautiful about childhood and also what’s so tragic about what comes after.

I thought this girls whole life in a matter of seconds and I grew to appreciate that little girl. But she will never know this,  she will never know who I am, nor will she ever think of me again. But by the time she left the store I found myself hoping her life is everything she wants it to be.
emeraldine087 Dec 2017
What is the essence of a woman?
Many a beauty pageant have asked.
And which, countless have tried to define
through responses better than the last.

I am not wise, bold or old enough
to pretend to know the right answer.
But with enough imagination,
this does not have to stay a puzzle.

A woman’s essence is found in you
who’s strong-willed, kind, smart, and who inspires.
And also in me, who’s persistent,
who pursues, dreams and humbly aspires.

Together, we’re what ev’ry woman
once was, still is and always shall be…
I, who strives to leave lasting marks here,
And you, who will always inspire me.

*(c) emeraldine087
As commissioned by Ms Joan Contawe
Damon Beckemeyer Aug 2018
The pizza took her place in bed. It slathered itself all over her.
The pizza objectified my body.
It slid between her *******, leaving traces of red sauce and strands of hot, almost liquid cheese in the nook of her cleavage.

It slowly dripped off of her ******* as she spread its residue across her *****.
From there, the succulent, almost watery juices rolled off of her teet and onto her folded legs as she knelt there in the store window.
Everyone could see her.
But as long as those who were most enthralled came inside to purchase a pie or two, no one seemed to care.
Amoy Feb 2018
Is self  the vessel that holds our souls?
or is  the soul our true self?
should we look to our outer appearance  and the world to define ourselves,
do we search for the love of self through what people see and say about us?
someone once said "self cant help self"  what did he mean?
if self cant help self then who can?.. after all.. our self is the only
true companion we have in this world. here is one thing I've have learn.
when  we love our self for who we truly are inside,we defines our essences  and it is our essence that define us.
s Jul 2018
the place I belong
is submerged in your essence;
found and deep within
safe and sound
Among the swaying elm trees,
are whispers from on high;
The words are slightly garbled,
but their sweetness flows in sighs.

Each lilac touches wayward hearts,
with deepest blue and velvet glow;
The daffodils sprout yellow wings,
reaching out to join the show.

And hummingbirds sip honeyed wine,
from the feeder hanging nearby;
We watch as the finches gather,
shining golden in the clearest sky.

The lawn seems warm and supple,
as breezes blow in forest green;
Inviting us all to lie and view,
this heavenly springtime scene.

But then the sun retreats behind,
a massive wealth of clouds;
Refreshing rain falls in our midst,
cool and soft as seaside's sounds.

Enchantment is with us every day,
its essence stirs yet calms our souls;
As Gods displays His natural wonders,
life-long gifts that will never grow old.
Welcoming the beauty and joy of Spring (if it ever arrives on the East coast) !!
K Balachandran Nov 2018
From beyond the clouds and stars,
For a voiceless clear call, I perk my ears.
The foam, froth and the very crux
An orchestra of a trillion pieces the universe,
You, me and the spirit binding it all,
Resonate to the pulses of an unflinching light.
Everything that is seen or invisible,
With all that are known or not at all,
Are tightly woven together as one!
Any awareness otherwise, a mere fallacy,
Let go, come be one with the pure essence!
ImpliedLines Feb 24
A few renditions are nothing at all
But if I copied their strife
Would you notice my fall
I love neither your smile
Nor your being charm
But every single piece of you
From top to bottom
Most of all the way you look at me.
#ThatIsWhatATrueLoveDoToAMan
#Poetry
jane taylor May 2016
precious innocent soul
skipping rocks
on cobblestone roads
vulnerable untarnished pure
no residue of earthly soil

return me to that naiveté
unburdened by layers
of fake masks
and perfect capped teeth
in narcissistic societies

but I shan’t grasp
at ethereal edges
of nebulousness
and ephemeral
innocence

i shall endure
what I abhor
a master’s soul
cannot be forged
in paradise

wisdom’s essence
‘tis not pristine white
hints of ivory
tinge the effervescence
of the sage’s breath

©2016janetaylor
Mugerwa Muzamil Mar 2018
All along my unconscious
has been consumed by your
beauty which is below
the threshold of my wakefulness

Yet I crave it

You're not of classical beauty
but such a timeless white Lily
whose pureness grasps the mind
And radiates Its light to the orbits

For its adoration, essence is not
in form but in the method
Your quirkiness captures
my infinite imagination

You keenly read the mapping
of my unrestrained tears
Your pureness lies in innocence
Mine in experience

A kind of beauty
K Balachandran Dec 2018
Sunlight sings to me!
A momentary pleasure?
That’s all in the end.
Cné Feb 2018
Much has been said
against me
however,
I will not be spiteful
or allow hatred,
the beast of darkness
that resides
in the black jungles
of arrogance
and ignorance,
to infect me;
for that is no reason
to give way to anger.
So I refuse to let anger
**** my heart;
for anger
is the scorpion’s poison
of peace
and love, it’s sunlight.
I choose light
contentment and happiness,
as poetry’s not a contest
of winners or losers;
it is the essence
of a poet’s soul.
Peace, love
and harmony
reigns over
anger, hate
and contention
Cné Aug 2015
Lairs twist life so it's tasty to the lazy
Powerful to the weak and crazy

Brilliant and seductive to the
ignorant youth
But even in pain, there is beauty in the truth

Even a tiny bit of deceit is dishonorable
For only cowards lie selfishly without preamble

As lies only strengthen a liar's defects
A liar's character, mind, & spirit gains no positive affects

The abuser of the truth paints with disappearing colors
Valuing the canvass at worthless dollars

For once the veil of the facade is lifted
Honesty, integrity and trust can never be re-gifted.

Unhappy are the takers
Or why else be fakers?

But to devastate the essence of the believer
Measures the cruelty of the deceiver

Inner peace with self deception
Is the doing of one's own soul's destruction

However if truth be told
When lies gradually unfold,

Is it better to be the believer
Or the deceiver?
sara Jun 2018
I'm transparent like a window
but I'm prone to keeping curtains closed
to cover up my youthful,
aching, ***** soul.

I used to be promiscuous;
my essence on my sleeve.
a charming laugh; a crystal glass
from which many a fool drew drink.

A chalice of life;
warm like cinnamon wine,
soft like angel's delight.
Beheld by every eye.

But it never felt right;
I was smoke off a fire,
yet still smouldering coal.
Just a young, beautiful

byproduct of desire.
There's no smoke without fire.
Although, I tried to fan it cool;
the flames ran only wilder.

But as the old wind blows, it seems
a withered tree still grows new leaves.
A dandelion spreads its seeds
but they lie far away from me.

Now, I move transcluently-
ultraviolet invisible ink-
I speak in soothing whispers;
they travel further than you'd think.
Iridescence is things seemingly changing colour on their own- I think we all have the power to grow and move away from our pasts.

I love how fire is a destructive yet cleansing force.
Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to it’s progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to it’s innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of it’s conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of it’s relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.  

As the relative complexity of it’s interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of it’s conjunction yet the totality of it’s ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .  

The organic morphology of biological ontogeny was a conceptually reflective derivative of functional physical mechanics yet it’s diversity exceeded it’s physical complexity , understanding evolved .  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeeded in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms .

Retrospectively speaking pragmatic practicality is a humanly rational possibility .  Rational logic can conceive of individually totalitarian structural forms , yet the implosive nature of their rational cohesiveness becomes a practical partiality due to the diversity of their definitive impetus .

Perhaps the essence of our being is the logical counterpart for the matrix of our subjectively conclusive social fragmentation , or perhaps we are evolutionally incapable of cumulatively rational correlation.  Problematic diversity could be perfectible on an individually infinite level or contrarily perhaps ubiquitous causality is the ultimate survivor.  

In any case it is beyond our subjugatively rational cohesive coercion to intercede en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit. Our conceptual abilities have been thwarted by the unmitigatably individual nature of our extraneous conclusiveness .
Re-post
Cné Jun 2018

paint me
with the wet tickle
of your tongue
lingering with affection
savoring my fervent flavor
in bold strokes
of your obsession

color my essence
in heated hues
sending shivers
down my spine
in anticipation
of your warm breath
against my flesh
with every blissful caress
to ensue painted petals
of animation

with your supple lips
gently blur the lines
of my curved hips
softly stroking
the subtle shadows
of warm depth,
blushing
quivering thighs
as I gasp
of breath

plunge in
a primer coated palette
dipping your stiff paintbrush
deep within
the folds of my blanket
manipulating
a trembling image
of your voracious ****.

craze me
again and again
in breathless
****** glow,
your sensual brushstrokes
gently murmuring
layer on layer
in alla prima flow

delve deep
into my eyes
paint splattering
the passion
of my soul
drizzling silken strands
of love
in their entirety,
polishing me whole

and then
in blissful backwash
admire
the tangled limbs
interposed
of your
completed masterpiece
in smiling
sated repose

Ilion gray Jul 2018
If the endless invoked me
”come”
I would leave these days
Without me
the solidarity of hidden deserts
Under unfounded skies
Will still be resting;
If I remain
Amidst the swaying morning
by earth
Inside your space
my hands
Dark as shadows cast
From holes burned
through walls
behind heaven
Eons dripping
billions all at once
Trying to keep every drop of you
In my hands
But you are a quasar
Even breaking atoms
collapsing everything
And lowering yourself
back to earth
Tonight
inches equal aeons
Here in this place
Where no one ever goes
I watch the universe
crush
In my palm
I witness
the strength of megallactic clouds
I am alive
Because I
snatched only the essence of the galaxies
bleeding
your skin is perfect
You having been born of tears
Of the endless face of God
Racing back
Down through
Darkness' unnamed
And unnumbered
Rushing down
Leaving every empty space
Stained with the fingers of your
Flames while you
escape heaven
I will reinforce
Every constellation
Else the ether
could never hold you
for a moment
Your skin was placed
superbly over
bones
and flesh
Veins endless
And all the tender entrails
in its time
Sat suspended
Remember my love Forget
all other things
But this
When your Hours finish
It wont be day
nor December
There won't be rain
And stars will not descend
From the space from which you came
you woke up in childhood
You have learned to dream in mirage of minutes
Be Silent in the shaken shadows
Of hours
just once you were called by the finite
But do not be afraid
My love
Because the caverns of my heart
were forged in the thickest charms
In darkness
Reclusive
In the unchanged
Spaces of gods thought
I'll tell you now
Spill everything
from your fury down
inside me
Because my emptiness can not be filled
when there was a real light
in the days of the day
I sat with the wicked
In kingdoms where light can not pass
In repentance

I will save a calm battle
Until every atomie of my skin has perished
I will rage against the black angels
In the clouds Behind your eyes
Until the ice
Until innocence
When they lay you in the empty space
soon you will be the bones
and the flesh unexcited
The unexpected veins of the earthstar
Your scent goes away from the moon
Your breath on my skin is gravity only you could be born once
as a single kind of dust
drifting with Silence
violently Bubbling
and Spinning-Recklessly
Endlessly
forever
Angela Liyanto Sep 2018
My vision was to create a new language for literature-
But now not only is every solution nonsense & every poem agonising,
I am a child reading too many of today’s poems realising I’ll also be writing long sentences with the purpose of deconstruction & decoration.

I rest in between my own letters of ‘a’ & ‘n’, where I can sit I peace.
Because when I’m doing that, even the spaces will become part of the essence of the work. Say, (if you calculate the movement of this earth on its axis you’ll see its beauty equates to something like the beauty in poems) It is in the essence, we have beauty in the first place.

You see: seeing patterns is the only way around this world. This idea is as flaky to me as a chocolate bar. I’m gonna write and drop my laptop two times before I get it right. I will fail but they take me as naive anyway so I'll laugh at myself because I want to be polite.

Take love, it takes many forms, but the essence remains the same.
Take books, it has variety of plots, but some meanings stay the same.
Take poetry, we can destroy form, rhyme, meter, but in its essence, the feeling remains the same.

We should write to construct a new language of unity, with a clearness to our imagination, and rely on the essence of the work to make its way to the heart.
Bryan Lunsford Apr 2018
Our love had the essence of such a poetic start,
As it’s now quiet with nothing but slow songs playing in the dark,
I hear the rhythm of a piano fused elegantly with a lonely harp,
Where I lie here placed in my bed with a broken heart,
I write my emotions down and turn my pain into an art,
As I cry page by page and continue to fall apart,
I analyze our beginning, our ending, every moment and part,
With our love that had the essence of such a poetic start
Cné Aug 2015
Silently I cry hoping no one hears
Secretly caring for another in love's affairs
Experiencing love's worst of weapons
Heartbreak ominously beckons

Silently tears fall as I lie alone
On the bathroom floor unbeknown
For there are no more words, no more lies
Only a silent tear that never dries

Silently I cry with images of his face
Dimpled cheeks, his kiss and warm embrace
Hopelessness ensues for the way he held me tight
Remembering he's with her tonight

I lay in bed at night beside the one I'm bound
Holding my breath as tears compound
Feeling the love I once gave and then knew
All the while he's with someone new

Silently shedding tears as my life takes its toll
Killing my very essence, my mind, body and soul
Hearing the words, feeling the crippling pain
A lover's secret inevitably ends in vain
Pink
Never was my favorite color

You were in pink
On the first appearance
Then, It happened

Feel your presence
In my first book
Canvas: Echoes And Reflection

Long live
Being eternal
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Colourful Vibes || Color Perception
yv Oct 2018
At times we crave for attention
at other times we crave for appreciation
but at the end of the day,
I think all we really want is for love.
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