"eternalize" poems
My vision of you,
Belied if tallied with stars in the night,
Like the moon lit blue.
Don’t tell me it’s true,
When I dare say you’re my sunlight,
If asked my vision of you.
Because there are so few,
Paintings that describe you right,
Your beauty like the moon lit blue.
Won’t you tell me a clue?
How do I eternalize this precious kite?
To keep my vision of you.
If only you knew,
You leave me breathless, gone my flight,
Tamed like the moon lit blue.
I pledge my true-blue
Forever be my pride, my delight, my side,
For my vision of you,
Is authentic like the moon lit blue.
Aug 7, 2023
Aug 7, 2023 at 11:47 AM UTC
when I sit in bed listening to the sounds of the city outside my window
I feel like I owe it a poem, creativity, something beautiful
to eternalize it's beauty in someway
the sounds of cars speeding through the bridge at 3:34am
souls repelled and pulled by the never-ending enigma that is the city
the heels of woman clacking across the cement, finding their ways home
the white noise in the rare moment that silence invades
this all silently screams to me, "paint me like a French girl"
I'm a muse, waiting to be picked upon
and nothing will ever be good enough
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
there is a poem lurking
in me tonight,
accompanying me from nighttime
into the muddled currents of the wee hours,
awaiting for an ending
of this, this vigil,
or perhaps,
ejection from the birth canal
where and whence, it irritangly demands, is
my commencement,
the origination of its peculiar species,
to eternalize it,
tattoo a unique number
upon its wrist
in a ledger of words
they sent me a message that the
DedPoet is in deed
dead, gone, cremated
but that is not the poem
stalking me
right now
for now
vanilla numbing of the heart,
sadness that this fellow runner
of my human-writing race
is no more upon the track
but that is not the poem
talking to me
right now
every flutter of eyelash
is a line,
a forgotten fragmented verse,
a lost and gone forever Clementine,
even before the thought completed
numerous sun ray titles flash
but few are caught,
though all glimpsed in dazzled shining glory
the hook, line and sinker,
themselves, yeoman poets all,
have nothing to show
oh woe is me,
oh woe is me
there is a poem lurking
in my chest
yearning to be free
by being created
I know it not yet
in any form recognizable,
so well as it knows me
from our shared womb,
now torn
5:08 am
Sept. 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 5:22 AM UTC
blinking constantly, the Morning Light shines behind her
Her glorious Sleepy Smile, My heavy lids like Camera Shutters
clicking for as many Saved Loves as possible
to cherish your softness and this moment Now
to eternalize it Forever
because there won't be many more Mornings quite like this one
i can't remember for the life of me what was groggily said
or if anything was said at all
i think that's because all my focus
left my Ears for my Eyes that were being blinded by
this beautiful and simple moment of Us
the Bright Light
the Warm Covers
the Tired Bodies that didn't want to move away from this Paradise
i hoped the Light of My Eyes were reflecting into Yours
the heart-felt Message that i felt swelling inside my Chest
prepared to Self Destruct
blinking constantly, the Morning Light shines behind her
Her glorious Morning Look, My Mind's Eyes will cherish forever
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 11:05 AM UTC
I wish I could have captured,
Your feelings,
The way I snap pictures,
And eternalize moments.
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 11:17 PM UTC
see how life flows
how time embraces
things pass, and the words we use
to justify things
to eternalize, to spiritualise
they trap us, do you observe;
beings pass, things lose their joints
bodies relinquish their hold;
and even space withdraws into itself
all things it brings forth
if you observe,
dear wayfarer, and friend
what appears before and what stays and what subsides;
not led in your mind
manacled by Thick Books and Principles
and The Book of Words and Light of Truths
if you put all things aside
(you need nothing in all worlds)
and you observe
you see all things glide
like the cloud that appears in the sky
dances with winds, not to please anyone
and then passes;
and so do you, so do all things pass;
and always there is the stillness that embraces
do you observe
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
But darling,
you eternalize
everything
good in this
world.
Sandoval
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 3:42 AM UTC
TLACAELEL
Great, gold-eyed Eagle, greet our messenger,
We offer his most precious fluid, Lord.
Bright Hummingbird, accept Thy rubied fruit.
In tawny plumes, Thou chaperonest the day.
[To worshipers] We are collaborators with the gods,
Performing our transcendent duty here.
For by this action lie the only means
To eternalize the circuits of the sun:
An aloe balm to all the sufferings
Of his interminable pilgrimage.
WORSHIPERS Blue Prince, may Thou incline Thy heart, that by Thy grace for yet a while may we see in dreams.
TLACAELEL
For we are God’s own chosen tribe, elect,
As kernels gleaned and winnowed from the chaff,
To side in cosmic struggle with the sun,
To side with goodness, vowed to ascertain
Its triumph over evil’s looming storm,
And to bestow to all humanity
The heavenwide profits of the victory
Of the resilient forces of the light
Over the gathering powers of the night.
Let us pray. Exit.
WORSHIPERS Huitzilopochtli, perform Thy office. Do Thy work. May I not reject Thee. May I not falter before Thee. May Thy heart desire whatsoever Thou mayest desire. This is all.
Trumpets, drum. All exit.
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 3:18 PM UTC
All I see are demons
in this apocalyptic season
when everyone with a grievance
pledges allegiance
to those in agreement
of fear of the opposition
deserving paranoid treatment
for a thing called collision.
I live in fear of their numbers
I fear the heights of their hunger
I fear they'll eternalize my slumber
not wanting to go under
I sit there and wonder
how to tear asunder
nightmarish hunters.
This thunderstick granted to me
for my John Wick fantasy
lays in my hands handily
fingers hugging the trigger
ignoring the touch of skin
it makes me feel bigger
than playing the violin.
I need guns because the other side has them
trading players like they're Udonis Haslem
feeling like the metallic version of Aslan
because of the armament in my safe
connecting me to my venom
protecting me from the other's ways
with a second **** in my denim.
I'm afraid of the angry mob
to which I've globbed on
pitchforks in hand
fingers hugging the trigger
of supply and demand
the rich get richer.
Jan 7, 2022
Jan 7, 2022 at 1:40 AM UTC
Leave me not,
Outsmart my walls,
Vanish my pain,
Eternalize our bond.
May 11, 2020
May 11, 2020 at 12:38 PM UTC