"ethereally" poems
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance.
Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique.
What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion.
Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression.
We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms.
There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all.
We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural.
Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate.
Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success.
The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race.
How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’.
So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for.
Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism.
It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism.
Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights.
This is mandate.
The republic for which we stand.
Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
once in my sanctuary
it came in a loud gallop
followed by a wallop
my sorrowful lumbar
detaching the fear
of a clumsy blunder
shifted away from
the law of physics
an emptied vessel unmoved
like a sealed vacuum
certain a final curtain
pin drop in code of silence
light time alliances
whooshing me into
ethereal plains
a sublime hemisphere
of infinitesimal space, time
an indescribable beyond
gentle breezes
feathery light teases
soon a star-gazing eyes
darted through a
zero gravity galaxy of an
endless empyrean expanse
a’turnin spherical sight
orange white stripes
rosely red spot
churning roiling clouds
speckled dusty rings
what beauteous it shrouds
why am I here
a knowing voice appeared
melodically close but I
can only behold afar
of an ethereally existential
interstellar manifold
questioning mind
told of convoluted ways
as seen and heard
the rhymes and seasons but
for one and the only reason
mankind's whisper'd words
entrance to the portal
as did my dawned immortal
met a peaceful assembly
I lay in days, this rapturous gifts
what divine effulgence of
a truly cosmic lift
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance
Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique
What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion
Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression
We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms
There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all
We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural
Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate
Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success
The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race
How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’
So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for
Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism
It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism
Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights
This is mandate
The republic for which we stand
Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 7:25 AM UTC
a toast to the gods of self preservation
twenty one with plenty coming
allowing to pound sounds within
the crown aroused voided a founders of it’s bruises
spells hold the fold, I’m coasting with the best
resting in the east so I sleep with blinds low
the comfort zone is far from solitude
my molecules have aptitude to channel Jupiter
seatbelts are useless wastes of matter, excuse me
just a minute so you can miss me with that individuality
your calloused grip on reality impairs the singularity
old school, gold noose, silver lined diamonds
Jesus pieces reaped the seeds that teach your blind lids
came back with scabbed knuckled and heart scars
hustled the portal of pretension ever so ethereally
inner synthesis purged the day the plague hit
on the courts or the graves, you name the slaves
the game slayed the day the chains changed hands
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 2:20 PM UTC
The scene:
http://beautyineverything.com/5064159807
Here, in the meadow,
we as children,
(even me)
romp and frolic,
in happy dreams.
Care free, here,
all of us together,
jumping and playing
in the wildflowers,
weeds and sprigs of heather.
Ethereally, I ponder,
(the only way i can)
these sweetest of wishes,
these most daring of dreams,
here inside my heart of good-bye kisses.
It's all that's left,
(of me, you see)
just such brief snapshots,
of sweet wishes lost,
and daring dreams soon to be
forgot...
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 7:14 AM UTC
You keep me up with thoughts of you
like any other nights
When I think of how your eyes
would wrinkle up to the sides of your face
as you let out a genuine smile
With my fingers evident with smudged lead,
and words flow on paper
of how ethereally beautiful you are
How your existence would surpass tenfold
the radiance of the passing cars
of the busy midnight streets
Oh I just wish to spend a night awake in your arms,
with my fingers in between yours
under the covers of my sheets
The bed doesn't make me want to sleep
They couldn't give me comfort
unlike your smile
that can bring the sun rays to shame
You could not compare to thousand starlights
Your eyes surrender to sleep
And your feeble yawn—
Let us call it the night
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 7:52 AM UTC
Prerogative presumptive judicature, cantankerous cantilever capacity. Paradoxical dichotomy greaves, gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts, asymmetrical symmetry. Objectified manifest's dimensional delineation, intrinsic endemic innate opaque opulence. Protractive analyses accidence ambience acoustics. Spatiotemporal telemetry tactician's trajectory extant.
Prophylaxis protocol annex annul. Kinesiology kleptomaniac extraversion embezzlement euthanasia extortion, embark embargo extradition. Aura roan's rainbow mare's nimbus nimiety exorcism. Corporeally preternatural's existential exigence exodus. Cerebral cortex's ****** matrix's carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma, apex axis crux, exponentially extemporaneous manumission. Categorical imperative hubris, hectic duty deontological probity.
Astral projection's clairaudience clairvoyance. Tenets and principles, maxims and axioms, and doctrinal mandates. Exserted protuberance's edifice ******** Exotically ****** ethereally sublime xylem Xanadu sails. Erotica erectile errantry.
Fulham nuance ***** Formidable foundry of a foyer fracas. Harpy harsh hast, atrium attrition seditious. Oak tree ****** nails swarthy ******** swath swizzles and unicorn railway sails. Anchor pin tachometer troll wood harlotry's root clod rudiments, lightning bow hat pick. Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist. Transpicuous translucence alluvium aloof impunity.
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 10:07 PM UTC
if poets ruled the world
i shall be at peace
for no amount of pain
will evolve into bullets
just petals, some wilted
but never not fragrant
watch men and women
and everyone in between
ignite chasms with sparks
then joy will be served
in generous servings
but never ignorant
the angst you give
will be crystals until
forgiveness cradles you
for tears will be valid
the triumphs kiss the sky
but never arrogant
if poets ruled the world
everything will turn
from beautiful to ethereal
wrecks, clouds, smiles,
hearts, storms, bees,
dreams, humanity, havoc.
if poets ruled the world -
watch the world burn
ethereally.
and like a phoenix -
watch it resurrect.
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 2:28 AM UTC
Transcendentally existential in-extremis extremity nuance. Vicinity victual vigilante villain. Propinquity habitation harbinger harangued. Clairaudience clairvoyance agilely dexterous acuity, tactile coordination. Feral phrenic frenzied **** Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma. 29th Psalm some holy spirit, the angel was a vision of resplendent beauty as it hovered in mid air above the knoll. Apex axis crux and citadel pinnacle's peak. And yet I would distance traveled time spent like to mitigate this of in to you. What then is the essence of metaphysical mystique. I say lets ethereally sublime be mesmerically enrapturing. Ecstatically euphoric and climactically ******** Let your vicarious recalcitrance revel in the prolific profuseness of my profundity as we lavish in our wanton abandon. Though paw flaw laws are to claws aimed craw, horsefeathers are more proficient and surreal on the salaciously seductive.
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 1:50 AM UTC
All of us are travelers lost,
out tickets arranged at cost
unknown but beyond our means.
This odd itinerary of scenes
- enigmatic, strange, unreal -
leaves us unsure how to feel.
No postmortem journey is rife
with more mystery than life.
Tremulous skeins of destiny
flutter so ethereally
around me - but then I feel
its embrace is that of steel.
On the road that I taken,
one day, walking, I awaken,
amazed to see where I have come,
where I'm going, where I'm from.
This is not the path I thought.
This is not the place I sought.
This is not the dream I bought,
just a fever of fate I've caught.
I'll change highways in a while,
at the crossroads, one more mile.
My path is lit by my own fire.
I'm going only where I desire.
On the road that I have taken,
one day, walking, I awaken.
One Day, walking, I awaken,
on the road that I have taken.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance
Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique
What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion
Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression
We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms
There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all
We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural
Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate
Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success
The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race
How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’
So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for
Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism
It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism
Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights
This is mandate
The republic for which we stand
Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
Star-speckled cheeks,
eyes deep as space,
smile bright like the moon,
waves like the sun,
shimmer ethereally in the light—
but I’ll always be eclipsed.
You’re Saturn,
and I’m stuck in your orbit,
just another stupid moon.
I’ll stretch to infinity to reach you,
but we’ll never touch,
’cause we’re on
completely different wavelengths—
always been fated
never to align
and always will be.
You’ll never tell me,
“Love you to the moon and back,”
yet every night I fall asleep
thinking of a star-speckled sky.
Sep 25, 2025
Sep 25, 2025 at 4:23 PM UTC
In nights when
a crisp humidity
wraps its
cocoon-
Jolts within me
suddenly
thoughts of a cove
where as a
child,
scattered clandestine
words-
burrowed on their
own
into the pallid sand
who soaked herself
with salty sea,
then pledged confidentiality...
until I grew,
and could take
it.
So
Burn
Inverness.
Let the whispered
die
and with you
firefly
ethereally toward night.
One can merely
hope
not a single soul
will catch
one
here nor
there...
though what's
there
to fear?
Only that which is
deeply known:
I was,
I am,
a child still-
never grown.
Red sky,
hide
stowaway embers;
remains
fallen from youthful lips.
Let ride away on
bobbing crests.
At low tide,
an even lower
soul
walks the shallows.
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 4:17 AM UTC
Soaked in the silver light of your love,
I want to linger a while,
and love to tell my heart:
here is a rare work of art,
by an artist, whom I adore.
As my eyes meet yours,
a tenderness, moves my heart,
different from what I ever felt.
You too are full of light,
your eyes brim with words magical,
that needs no voice.
There are limits, yes, I should admit,
to how close two hearts could get.
But we could still remember
in spite of fog, that obscures our path,
that we are beings limitless.
We clearly see the light,
in which our hearts melt and fuse.
There is nothing that would stop us,
from being ethereally united.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 8:40 AM UTC
*Hey over there you gods of the earth and other planets
Your creature like I, a human mold suffices knowledge not,
As you mightly rove all over the sphere and share domains amongtst thyself
To reign over the whitenes, Jewry, negritude, sinotude plus yakeetude of mankind,
Enjoying your ethereally eyeview onto the earth at your creations,
Permit me to shoot up a guestion to you over there in your deitly realm
Be you jehova of the jews or amadioha of the igbos,god of the english or anything dogmatic,
What happened to your clay mud and tools pertinent in trade of human ****** creation,
So that you of late on umpteenth scale have created men who are women
And beautiful women who are aggressive mefolk and then ubuguitous earthwise ?
What has gone heywire with your human architecture ,when *** organs and feelings
Are center stage beckoning for their traditional orientation ?
Is homoeroticality your new creation technology ?
Or it is man recreating himself ?
Don’t you have enough clay ?
If material matters do you honourable deities
Come to Africa , chief Mugabe bob will guide you to copper-belts
Of chimurenga fields were clay is beyond any control,
In such quests you will go back to goldenly old
Human ****** creation topography
That will glorify your deitiness
In the old manner of hetereoeroticality.*
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
The luminescent stars
Grace the inky firmament
Diamonds glistening in the night
And Quiet flows the River
Broad and mighty
A Boudicae, wounded in a million wars
And yet beauteous and kind
Gently flows She.
Her sacred touch rejuvenates
Graceful as Diana
She meanders amidst pain and strife
And flows ethereally
Oh Ganga, thy beauty is divine
The Baul sings
Oh Giver of life! Bless me eternally
And Silently flows She.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 10:36 AM UTC
If I was to read for you, My queen that glow,
A poem of beauty, as only few words could show.
Like Picasso as a writer, let me paint your body,
A whisper of grace and elegance, without noise of gaudy.
You posses a twin of eyes, an immaculate glitter of beauty,
From which life receives its absolute lenity.
To glow in such light of orchestration, Like a crown on the head of time,
Whence bliss takes its origin and befitting prime.
Your alluring smile, a linger of unstinted comfort,
To the stars in tender darkness of the universe, glumming in discomfort.
Each of which humbles at your engrossing presence,
And glows in congruence to the light of your radiance.
Your arms like shields,protective armoury that gets soul lifted,
Touch of your fingers, ten cradle of breath taking sweetness, heavenly gifted.
Each a perfect blend of liniment and mystic power,such,
To impel dead heart to once last beat at thy touch.
your smooth bottled neck, over your soft shoulders,
Holds a face of coherent beauty, eyed in all beholders.
A beauty indescribable by far, as only few words could tell,
How ethereally lovely it can be ; perpetually graced with the touch of angel.
Your walk of indefinable class, a lucid rawness of orchestrated elegance,
So much elegance that the angels gasp in the wake of your presence.
To dance into ecstasy,from which heaven's purity is formed,
In but of your light of all light, they all are conformed.
Those smooth long legs spread like the wings of a flyer,
Inner thighs speak a truth that would mute a liar.
And drip sweet smelling nectar that excites a man's desires,
Like an addictive drug, that makes him only want to get higher.
Beautiful seasoned lips even angels could not grace,
Like two ***** of icing sugar, leaves me breathless each time our lips come in embrace.
And the pressure they do impart,
Have the power to break the devil's heart.
Your two cupped breast,stretch the stitches of your blouse,
As if swollen with milk and honey, my flame only its water could douse.
The most tender of all cleavage,had touched my palms with finesse,
Which contact makes me frozen; a sweet emblem dancing to impress.
If I was to read for you, My queen that glow,
A poem of beauty, as only few words could show.
Like Picasso as a writer, let me paint your body,
A whisper of grace and elegance, without noise of gaudy.
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 3:33 AM UTC
the white coat lords,
the army of nurses, the aides, didn't think
he understood their language
nor did they know
he had been a warrior in his homeland
and bore scars, inside, out
they paid little attention,
as he buffed lackadaisical linoleum, scrubbed porcelain *******
making them ethereally white
though the amputees,
the hobbled, the battle burned, would wake
to the sound of his labors:
his broom swaying to and fro,
a softer metronome for their ringing ears
a cadence of condolences
for their beating hearts
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
dust leaps from a cracked sill
a suicide leap
it falls
from a ferris wheel
spinning ethereally in a ray of antique light
he complains of filth again
but I don’t notice
I only see ellipticals
riveting in wood grain
as stairs crack in explosive silence
he tells me go up there
says he knew I would anyway
so I run
when russet reverberations
become stained with blood
I find her upstairs
face flushed
swollen
with eyes dripping of humiliation
she tells me he meant everything
tells me about the dust
that it wasn’t a suicide leap
but a leap of faith
she said they danced
eyes blinded by the sun
fingertips pressed to the window
outlining shapes in glass fog
to imagine a life outside
Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 12:44 AM UTC
laying in that eternal white void i wonder
how the oceans flow,
the forests grow,
the skies arose,
the earth upholds,
as the universe chose
and my energetic field’s connection to it all
will my veins run as deep
as the river networks?
my lungs branch out full of freedom as the trees,
the print of my touch agree with the stump of nature,
my eyes glow ethereally as the galaxies,
the tides sing to the ebbs and flow of my blood,
if the death of a star
reads to the birth of thy cells,
then who is i?
then propagating that eternal white void
they sing♬ :
“O you who have reached the end,
enter into the paradise that envelops
all, join this great choir of organic matter
and feast~ listen to the billions upon
billions of cosmos holding you in their
embrace, harvesting thy gem of soul
from within moons.”
alas, nothing runs unknown anymore
for i who breathed life into the heavens
my soul shall erupt,
a luminous stellar explosion of love,
o supernova named after oneself
as you birth gods and monsters
alike,
let’s whisper once more,
“for we life, are everything and
everywhere all at once”
Aug 14, 2025
Aug 14, 2025 at 9:50 PM UTC
I will defy the movement of language
With syllables soft before the snow
For Autumn in the fewest chosen words
Along lines of simple alphabets
In the palm of my listening
I will observe you walk as a poem
Skips across ethereally this earth
With colors and bodies of Christmas
An instantaneous impression of beauty
I will sing a lullaby to the irreproachable sky
And kiss the poem-greeting letters
That dissolve as a soul among the trees
And the centre of music
That is a living expression of the times
Today the sun comes out in your poem
And I listen for the poem I will write in reply
I will be a hero of a recluse today, again
With an inner smile of jewel-pointed clarity
That the imagination is a universal thing
The night’s sheerness of black gardens
A voice from which religions spring
Spiritual movement completes itself
In an intuitive release of meaning
A letting go of the sadness of having come
And gone, like death, poetry takes me there
As a river of music, entering my blood
Chilling me with a serotonin symphony
The joy of being here, the glances and reflections
Of existence, mirroring poetry
Between silence and music
The snow and sun, men and women
The rain and drums stalk my fantasies.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
Nothing nears perfection like your smile; it is believed to be the make- up worn by angels,
Your face; ethereally lovely; perpetually graced with the touches of angels.
Your breath- taking beauty walled the template of my thought; enough not to forget how Heaven glows in your radiance,
Life in its erratic form makes perfect sense in the ambiance of your presence.
You are such that the planet is created around your meticulous tenderness,
Waxing strong at your ambiance; such to believe in its ineffable gift of weakness.
When you talk, no bird sings in the planet; every living entity stops to pay attention,
The earth rotates in congruence to the luxuriant wave of your voice; dancing to its sublime perfection.
Your laughter reverberate in such a melodic tune that the angels dance to its rhythm,
Joyfully bonded in congruence with its flow; adoring every tune of its appealing beat like the psalmist hymn.
Your lips deposits sweetness like pollen on stamens and pistils of my lips,
Enough sweetness to inundate my worries and fears at a glimpse.
You look at me with your serene but yet decipherable eyes and mitigates the stillness of loneliness in my opaque heart,
As a lady, you are an ideal sample of perfection; as a human, you are the integral part of Gods finest art.
I just can’t get enough of you; your love blooms with such sweetness like a long fermented wine,
I can drink and drown in its taste of breathtaking sweetness; get tipsy and still feel absolutely fine.
Your allure is offbeat; as indefinable as the coefficient of your inexhaustible beauty,
You are attention calling, extremely attractive to the dense bones of my cardiac cavity.
I love you and every unspoken word that you’ve ever thought of and every inch of flesh that is yours,
Your kiss is life to my cells; no such lips multiply cells in a single touch like yours.
My love for you is as indefinite as the sea; as vast as the galaxy of existence,
My love for you continues to grow just like root of plant grows beneath the soil with sublime resilience.
Like a Heron on fire; like a creeping mountain magma; my love blaze with such realness and sincerity,
And can never seize to end; be conquered by life’s challenges or drown in the depth of eternity.
Am stuck on you forever; forever bonded and inseparable like the Siamese twin for real,
Because baby; my love is forever; always have; and always will be.
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
Looking through black glass.
Upon eclipsed sunsets.
Light is dimming.
Darkness draws close.
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
I see, different, my children as a ghost Eyes trapped behind slow motion, windows.
Light is dimming.
Darkness draws close.
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
Time is slow, slowing, still, Stiller.
The minds life, still, Carry's on.
But. I'm already gone.
Light is dimming.
Darkness draws close.
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
I'm haunting, haunted, slipping a-way, a viewer.
No part of this world.
Half in, the next, time.
Subconscious collisions.
Light is dimming.
Darkness draws close.
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
Ethereally dissattached.
Ghostly spectator.
Already gone.
Light is dimming.
Darkness draws close.
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
Life seen as a flicker film.
A solitary viewer.
Light is dimming. Click.
Darkness. Gone.
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 6:00 PM UTC
Take me up in your arm,
let me sigh in that secluded dawn.
You are my serene shelter,
ethereally cozy,
and entwined with warmth.
I meltdown to your aura,
I meltdown to your caresses.
The broken unstable puzzles of me
fall right on the place.
Thousands of voices echoing,
old scars of ripped heart,
broken melodies of hazy eyes,
and the agonies of falling apart.
Your embrace knows them all,
like I have always belonged here.
Take me up in your arm.
let me sigh in that secluded dawn.
Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 1:16 AM UTC