"eudaimonia" poems
Of withering tempests screaming to the break of sunlight,
Of unrelenting wind and pounding rain, she stands
With her back to crashing waves and painful bellowing,
A weak induction of steady sighs and silent contemplation
Would perhaps bring a peaceful conclusion to the rage
And reproach of a Goddess stirring on the fringes of insanity.
But never would it have taken to fresh insanity,
The gentle swirling of confusion between glaring eyes and sunlight,
How she would wish never to part from the burning of rage
And leave a scorched shadow on the very place she stands.
Never did she desire for the learned art of contemplation
But instead found solace in a frozen lake of tears and bellowing.
At the end of such a night filled with harsh anxiety and frenzied bellowing,
She finds herself staring into the gleaming eyes of Insanity,
Who dwells in sweet and blissful contemplation
And harvests the piteous glow of sunlight
Such that any man would freeze and cease where he stands
And succumb to the urgings of exhilarating rage.
A chilling gust would release the embracing rage
And perhaps bring wishful silence to the obnoxious bellowing;
She feels her feet sinking through the sand and stands
out of reach from the tearing claws of Insanity.
Relief in the warmth of ethereal sunlight
Proves a worthy companion of contemplation.
Eudaimonia, she finds in her deep contemplation
Free of sorrow, empty and weary from her onslaught of rage,
She casts herself into the welcoming cracks of sunlight
And in Euphoria, she finds herself no longer bellowing,
The slow and steady pull of her chains toward Insanity
Break away and leave her where she stands.
In new light, she finds her strength and stands,
Embracing the drifting stream of wraithlike contemplation
Would send shivers and open wounds that might invite Insanity,
But turning around and gazing out into those waves might blind the Rage
And bring peaceful sighs to interrupt the senseless bellowing
Such that black clouds would give way to glorious sunlight.
To the death of Rage and the estrangement of Insanity,
The wistful bellowing banished in the silence of contemplation,
The Goddess stands with her back to the wind, tears dried by the warm sunlight.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 1:07 PM UTC
by: W. A. Marshall
There is one thing that will never change
regardless of ones tribal theology
or sociopolitical street-hood,
people are indifferent
to their own damaged beauty
and yet we are all fearful
of something down there -
we follow the tides like schools of fish
searching for water
They want solutions without pain
They want rebellion without revision
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
There are several truths that float here
Like leaves on winters infinite pool
And sometimes sink after hours, further,
Into the depth of my breakable mind.
I am almost always clothed to the body
Of an undetermined tomorrow,
Suffocating in the sleeves
Of any hopes shirt.
Keep you, I have been, for there
In the dirt road of my eyelids
You play with the riddled veins
Light cables unmet by reason.
It is not a tragedy, because
sideshow children were once living
And in their surrounds
Alive, beautiful people breathed.
I will be eluded by a string of pacifiers
A mobile above my head at night
But in-between lies of mystic creatures
And pearl planets, I will always be met by myself.
Sep 6, 2010
Sep 6, 2010 at 5:59 AM UTC
This lass, like many others, fair,
Her scent fragrant and sweet.
Her skin, exotic, is caramel toned.
Up North are her twin peaks.
Sweet rubies are my lover’s lips.
Sparkling diamonds are her eyes.
Yes my Lady is pleasing and rich,
She is both good and kind.
One hand explores my Lover’s curves
in search of the Divine.
as I vow to preserve and love
her for all of my time.
together we plumb her deepest depths
She shifts to meet my action.
Happiness is in the moment now;
then, later, satisfaction.
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 1:40 PM UTC
she stares at her reflection on the mirror
drunk in eudaimonia, she sways to the beat
there she has it, what others try to fight for
there she has it, what the hopeless badly needs
letting the song blast, she leans against the wall
eyes twinkling as hard as the stars in the sky
to both of her cheeks, a strawberry curve falls
cause in loving herself, she's found her own fire
regardless of who was there to hear, she cried
in happiness, in faith, in hope, and in love
regardless of who was there to see, she strived
with soul, with grit, with the freedom of a dove
and though there are scars that would never heal
she'll live and love to see what the world reveals
Apr 21, 2021
Apr 21, 2021 at 10:26 AM UTC
Wellbeing is an illness that plagues my mind
regardless of what others believe it to be.
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 4:27 PM UTC
The blindness in despair
The sorrow hidden from the heir
She threw herself in the outcast
She sought for something beyond the solace
Idealism is her weakness
Idealism is her strength
Idealism is the driven force
Idealism is the stepping stone
Idealism is for the optimist
Dream on, an idealist.
God, we speak about serenity
To You everyone remains sane
Love all the trouble we have sinned
For the allure and grace begin.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
unity makes security
happiness is my harmony
honesty means authenticity
vulnerability gives me serenity
contentment equals tranquility
upset any of these immaturely
with aggression or stupidity
will ruin our stability
Jul 7, 2018
Jul 7, 2018 at 7:24 AM UTC
I live at the ******* mall
And I’ve got that eternal beauty blues
for in the end eudaimonia
was all part of the clever ruse
The point of what? I ask of you
Cause there was nothing else to do
Its true
Sometimes I just wonder why that’s all
Flights of birds, bucolic minds
our Tortured, Analytic souls
The mind boggles as the heart dies
when the autumn brings the cold
as so the white dwarf shines
I just came for the free ride
On the Crest of That Beautiful wave
described in words that signify
all the wordless, senseless time
for bleached are the ones on the road, freshly paved
when the relationship is master and slave
Sublime is but profound confusion
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 2:10 AM UTC
Isn't she the righteous woman
Isn't she the living treasure
Isn't she the loveliest girl
That I've ever seen
I'd never thought that
I would fall for her
But now I did
and I don't want to
stop anymore.
She's my eudaimonia
In this world full of bad lucks
life is aisha
The meaning of
Her every smile
And her life
That I would say
She's the righteous woman
She's my living treasure
She is my favorite girl
She is the loveliest woman
That I would ever love.
Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 5:58 AM UTC
how did we start,
equating hope to silly?
the fallacy of optimism,
contrasted by the truth of pessimism,
confused as realism, facts
sent by a goal of ataraxia
(unachievable)
supported by leadership position
(unaccessible)
tinted of eudaimonia
(indefinible)
and the loss of getting ahead
at what cost?
do you tear down
others' hope
with your glance,
fuelled by your own
cowardly manner,
afraid of losing
what you never had,
walks around telling others they won't miss it?
Nov 14, 2020
Nov 14, 2020 at 8:28 PM UTC