"euphorically" poems
The tests say 98% neurotic.
The doctor says I'm just passionate.
My parents say I'm too sensitive.
Lovers say I'm too clingy.
I say I'm just ******* crazy.
I feel everything so deeply.
Love is so instense.
Fear is crippling.
Pain is paralyzing.
Joy is euphoria.
Maybe I'm too passionate,
Or emotional,
Or sensitive,
Or whatever.
But I know one thing,
That I'm deeply,
Madly,
Cripplingly,
And euphorically,
In love with you.
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
by
rgpage
outside the walls a cold wind howls
in the dark of a wintry night.
yet in their bed so soft and warm
a young couple's fancy takes flight.
fresh candle light flickers in challenge
to the outside winter's cold bluster.
yet safe in their place they lend a soft grace
to light up the lover's growing luster.
under warm blankets naked bodies entwine
she's backed in to outline his form.
his free hand parts her raven black hair
his lips track her neck....his breath warm.
her whole body shutters as his hand softly traces
her side from shoulder to knees.
his kiss' grow hot between shoulder and neck
for more her breath sweetly pleads.
his hand travels back and stops at her rear
caressing her flesh firm and slow.
her hips gently roll into every firm squeeze
starting nature's hot juices to flow.
again on the move his hand travels up
past tummy so soft to her *******
while each one he fondles and cupping its weight
his hips grinding soft in the quest.
outside the wind's howl has grown to a roar
yet inside the light slowly wanes.
with bodies so hot blankets kicked to the floor
wrapped up in love's rapture gains.
now facing each other they give to each other
their gentle and sweet surrender.
a play ground of lust yet filled with love's trust
and touching so firm yet so tender.
she reaches her hands out to stroke his desire
so hard yet so smooth to her touch.
and likewise he bends in to suckle her *******
hands rubbing her hips full and lush.
as is natures way there's time in love's play
when exploring and pleasure must grow.
spreading her limbs to let him pass in
she shudders with love's natural glow.
gentle and tender yet rhythmic his strokes
the room fills with sounds of their pleasure.
their hips rise and fall in love's intimate dance
this dance, love's most ultimate measure.
faster and harder they urge one another
as closer to ****** they gain.
kissing and rubbing expressing their love
'til euphorically numb they became.
out side the winter storm rages
a most punishing wind at play.
yet lying inside in each other's arms
our lovers drift off and away…
Dec 4, 2011
Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 2:02 PM UTC
As I contemplated the project of writing a persuasive essay I discovered that I would have to have a topic upon which to practice my persuasive techniques . After much cogitation and enumeration of my possibilities , pursued with such zeal that it soon resembled pedantic ostentation , I concluded that the most positive prospect I could pursue in this endeavor would be an attempt to prove irrefutably that I deserve a grade of A in this class ; if not for the undeniable excellence of my effort , then at least for the unadulterated audacity of my pretentious assertion .
In order to perform this feat first I must overwhelm your developing consternation , the frozen mastodon of your auspicious judition . To accomplish this I will cite my impeccable attendance ; which although not perfect was indeed a valiant effort in the face of public opinion whose abstinence approached epidemic proportions . I will expound on the effectual and pervasive inspirations of my in class commentary , which sparked many a heated argument or thoughtful conjecture ; and comment on the polished precision of my in class narration . I will reiterate the diversity and intrigue of my subject matter and the competence of my delivery .
Next , with all the dynamic aggression of a wind-up tyrannosaur , I will recapitulate and exemplify my arguments ; until the ramifications of my inductive collusions exceed the boundaries of your psychic phenomenon and you are forced to acquiesce into impunity .
Yes I will indeed proceed to exceed the parameters of your mind , until mesmerized by the multitudes of analogous content you find yourself , disguised as captain corpuscle , floating euphorically down stream in a think box mind gram dingy towards a sea of Colorado cool aid . Then as if all that were not enough to thoroughly torque your ringer , adamant and tenacious I will portray realms of intellectual austerity so intriguing you will be raised to new heights of enigmatism , and then I will leave you , enraptured with your own anonymity , at the edge of the new world freeway .
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
I shaved away the edges until there was nothing left, but a dream of what could have been, and so with frustration i accepted the jagged.
A common law of common flaws, as my face morphs into mask.
I still wonder, when it all will collide, building up inside ...
So much.
Too much.
Electrified in the the allure of my ruthless retorts, as i struggle in futile resistance to the inevitable.
The feeling is incredible, when you let all just go.
As it gently flows from the empathy into ecstasy, learning to love thy enemy, even as they are metaphorically stabbing me in the back.
Euphorically to react to the sensations in my lap when shes next to me.
Hexing me in a shellacking smack to my mannerisms
Her summer dress to address my cynicism, as it flows back from whence it came.
Detained in her image.
Restrained, in questioned worth.
Worth a thousand words.
Words never heard but seen in synesthesia.
Synesthesia saving my amnesia from forgotten verbs that be-heave us, in forgetful stumbling of the loving mumblings before the kiss.
The kiss dismissing the winded blue lips from the fumbled wits of love.
Love drown the fires ablaze as it spirals away.
Away from the journey.
Journey of the uninterrupted.
Uninterrupted in the hunting of my comforts.
Comfort in the squiggled lines.
Lines that pack a little comfort.
Comfort in the blinds, as i sacrifice my obedience for a little bit of expedience on the smile that awaits, this toothless face.
Bludgeoned stupid, as i pace at half mass, blinded in the tall grass of empty lands amassed in colors unseen with tunneled eyes that refuse to defy gravity.
Gravity in your roads chosen.
Chosen in the glow of abodes ablaze.
Amazed in starlit eyes.
Eyes to dream.
Dream of better ways.
Ways to clean the bad away.
Away with my wayward words.
Words observed in zero.
Zeros the point in which i met her, blinded in the blur, as im pulled to her.
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 6:08 PM UTC
If insanity is truly a blissful ignorance,
then take my mind so my heart can be free,
set it on fire and gift the ashes to the wind.
If I shall burn, then I burn like Icarus,
euphorically and foolishly in love.
Aug 5, 2021
Aug 5, 2021 at 8:13 PM UTC
It's stories above where the butterflies rustled,
Whirring between the lights in aeolian bustle.
I'm smiling spritely at a neon halo,
While my organs writhe in jacqueminot El Niño.
Wading the nightscape with a glitched simper,
I could not change nor attempt to tinker,
Just breaching the moments passing to linger.
Fingers, then palms, then lips, then black,
Then for a few seconds the world collapsed.
A breath, a sip, some wit, I'm back.
Shed the murky vision of captive cataracts.
And now,
The sylph saunters in epitomized elegance,
And I've buckled on the inside to the resonant reverence.
I follow the fragrance in her wake as paralyzed sedatives,
And anything I might say could only lack eloquence.
Then magnanimous mantras attract exact,
It seems way down the rabbit hole I've finally met my match.
There's a mesh of flesh, a smooth caress,
Then I wake and realize these were not visions yonder death.
Particles of my brain erupt,
I can't explain away the unfading elation of touch.
Every pose palatial down to the pixels,
I'd gaze deep in the sheen of her mind gleaming as crystals.
Her eyes open like daybreak in flashes,
Sunstreaks glint over the horizon of her lashes.
There's morning songbirds behind the taste of coffee,
I think she's figured I'm just a well decorated softy.
Unveiling my most human of contentions stripped to the eclipse of logic,
My former self laughs in tones pitched sardonic.
Euphorically strumming at gossamer heartstrings,
Etched in the fabric as sakura carvings.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 8:48 PM UTC
*Why can I only seem to create poetry at night?
Does the darkness inspire me more than the light?
The one that never fails to bright and warm up our lives...
Why did I still seem to love you euphorically
After your floating words that hurt me like knives?
Ones so sharp they blinded me and kept me from seeing all your lies
But now I seem to be understanding...
You were the darkness in my life that inspired me,
You were the darkness that got me writing
Using words so honest, they make me feel alive,
You are the memories that still get my heart going,
And despite the total lack of light and the pain you left in me
You are the only one who still has me on my feet, firmly and standing.
And as long as you linger in my heart, deep and close to my soul, I will be writing at night
Today and forever as I might...*
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 11:37 PM UTC
Referees mismanage oversight
incorrect calls lower credibility
faith in justice dissolves into the ice
agency is taken into padded hands
vigilantes slash and spear.
Hip check leads to cross check leads to fist check
malignant hostility boils over
leather armor is removed
interphalangeal joints meet mandible
type O negative paints a jersey
haymakers take bizarre trajectories
to avoid helmets and visors
the face is homebase to ingrain pain.
Violence subverts gamesmanship
players must be taken off ice
to be put on ice
otherwise brawls become overabundant
and destroy the integrity of the sport
yet each transfer of agony is euphorically satisfying
—considering the context—
so fist fairs continue for the foreseeable future
we organize an impenetrable perimeter
once we've acclimated to penalty kills.
Jan 11, 2021
Jan 11, 2021 at 4:01 PM UTC
The spout
Of the battle
Shouting
In inconsiderate
Babble about bling
While i'm saddling
My steeds
Manning the machines
And breathing easy
Before i speak
Clearly to your dreams
Interjecting the theme
Of the losing team
Cheering in victory
Snickering in mockery
I remarkably sing
In drowned out tones
And zings
And i'm gonna be
Everything you been
In a week
And its weak
That i win
And you grin
With your arms up
Hooray!!
But you lost today
Too dumb to know it
But showin it
To everybody
Rhyming
Isn't about money
Its about diction
Metered rhymes
And harmony
Arming the
Alarmingly
Disarming memes
Of scattagoried kings
Euphorically
Seized
In the lean
Of delivery
Creativity key
The breezy
Sleezinous
Sheened
In the has beens
Gassed up
Gin drunks
Grunting whats
In response to love
Callin bluffs
On the tuffs
Of your huffs
And shrugs
Whatever punk
I got a foot on you
And your ****
On my side
Talking over you
Until you shut
Out the light
With your mouth
Over your eyes
And your house
Of flies sized up
In tough love
And shoved off the shores
To the unexplored oceans
In the notions
Of severed portions
Aborted with a snorkel
In the cortex
Of Oxygenated
Brains showing you
A thing or two
So ******* vein
Watching you strain
To speak
To breathe
To think
When your ready
Il be brief
A pat on the back
And declaration of king
Before you bend over to be
Blessed by the best
In this contest
Im tested
Only of my patience
In the vagrancy
Of your empty words
Freshly matured
In manure
Skewered
In the lured
Obscurity
Muraling
The masterpieces
Stealing thesis-es
With the soul content
Of cheeseless pizzas
Sauceless in the lossless
Belligerence
And im tempted
To kiss
My fists
And commence
To smash out the comments
To astonished onlookers
Booking for Brooklyn
When im shooting
Blood across the pavement
With fury of a patient
To fairfax and back
To break the bones
Of your home
Set your soul apart
From the heart
That pumps lumps
Of ********
From the start
Of your every sentence
Ill take two seconds
To count on your blemishes
To settle this
In nubbish
*******
Stumbling
From a kid
Im only kidding
In my giving a single ****
Get with it
The mic is yours
And ill freely admit
To being bored
Here you go
....
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 4:44 AM UTC
As I contemplated the project of writing a persuasive essay I discovered that I would have to have a topic upon which to practice my persuasive techniques . After much cogitation and enumeration of my possibilities , pursued with such zeal that it soon resembled pedantic ostentation , I concluded that the most positive prospect I could pursue in this endeavor would be an attempt to prove irrefutably that I deserve a grade of A in this class ; if not for the undeniable excellence of my effort , then at least for the unadulterated audacity of my pretentious assertion .
In order to perform this feat first I must overwhelm your developing consternation , the frozen mastodon of your auspicious judition . To accomplish this I will cite my impeccable attendance ; which although not perfect was indeed a valiant effort in the face of public opinion whose abstinence approached epidemic proportions . I will expound on the effectual and pervasive inspirations of my in class commentary , which sparked many a heated argument or thoughtful conjecture ; and comment on the polished precision of my in class narration . I will reiterate the diversity and intrigue of my subject matter and the competence of my delivery .
Next , with all the dynamic aggression of a wind-up tyrannosaur , I will recapitulate and exemplify my arguments ; until the ramifications of my inductive collusions exceed the boundaries of your psychic phenomenon and you are forced to acquiesce into impunity .
Yes I will indeed proceed to exceed the parameters of your mind , until mesmerized by the multitudes of analogous content you find yourself , disguised as captain corpuscle , floating euphorically down stream in a think box mind gram dingy towards a sea of Colorado cool aid . Then as if all that were not enough to thoroughly torque your ringer , adamant and tenacious I will portray realms of intellectual austerity so intriguing you will be raised to new heights of enigmatism , and then I will leave you , enraptured with your own anonymity , at the edge, of the new world freeway .
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 12:36 PM UTC
Triumphant am I when I see you stumble
Impishly witnessing your short fall from grace
My ego is puffed up with your simple proof of humanity
Your hands flailing as your feet benignly betray you
Gathering my own importance close, I feed on your shame
I take frantic pleasure in your failure
My lungs inflated with harnessed laughter at your plight
I move closer-taking all of this in...my skin humming
My mind keenly focused on your suffering
I have no expendable sympathy for you
I register your cries-they dust my ears with echos
I won't offer you the help you so desperately need
Giddiness-crawling up; determined, hot in my throat
Tasting bitterly...suspiciously like the bile of my own flaws
Straining to recapture my ignorant bliss, my eyes root for you
Recognizing my self-reflection, I swat it away with a fervor
Swallowing, I clamp it there locked in place-I begin to choke
Questions of my own imperfections threaten to suffocate me
Who am I to relish in your demise, when I carry this stained heart
My hands tainted, anointed by the trembling of my secrets
With a wretched mind, denial forlornly guides my tongue
Flushing out the haphazard judgements I cast on you
As I stand here stricken by my will to desparage your choices
Am I not solely responsible for the poisonous kiss of my words
My shame mounts, my dignity absent in the wake of this purge
Standing exposed my arms in disconnect, legs lead and water
And then euphorically the words become less insistent, quieter
Slowly my throat releases, my gasping breaths regulate themselves
Realization settles in heavy but clear
Could it be when I am judging you, I'm truly critical of me
And if so, I am forced to wonder almost reverently...
Were you ever really here at all?
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 5:07 PM UTC
a creative entity,
kept far too busy,
unraveling the enigma,
unwrapping the riddle,
of the mystery novel,
that is living life....
euphorically, emphatically,
whilst furiously rowing,
in ever dwindling circles,
a slow-leaking dinghy,
on life's
idiosyncrasea....
that kind sir
just about sums up
the story of me....
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
happily, you decompose
releasing your woes
even as they drag away your laughter
euphorically, you dissolve
losing your resolve
to live, even as your fears leave you
elatedly, you decay
your skin turns ash-grey
and maggots dig into your flesh
passionately, you molder
your recently-cremated ashes smolder
the flame devoured you with all the ferocity of a lover
joyfully, you disintegrate
forget the cold burn of hate
and misplace the memory of love, too
blissfully, you rot
lose your affinity with thought
your mind a directionless searching
delightedly, you wither
there is no time to dither
no time, full sprint to oblivion
reverently, you splinter
welcome eternal winter
relegate warmth to your fleeing memories
earnestly, you break down
your will is to drown
all your issues are a rising sea
fervently, you fall apart
you thought you were so smart
with death comes release, no?
h.f.m.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
A vacancy has fallen
Upon the land of all want
So barren in hope
Stretching out a hand
To behold nothing but space
The destructive yearn
That pumps through this tired soul
Comes up empty with but an old photograph
Tainted and obscured by the burning light
Of imagination's failure
Where did it go?
The euphorically warm canopy
Of the ever-calming shade
The cool breeze of a lover's touch
To fade away all the sweating troubles
Now only heavy-eyed and slumping frame
With the weight of all that is missed
The triumph of the dark
Adding to its sadistic glory
Like lining its trophies
For the gradual taking of my soul
Which coming morning will it be?
When they have everything from me
That they could ever posses
And their victorious march
Will chant the word of my death
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
It is odd for one to wish
to have skin made of crystals in order to captivate your interest,
an aroma that fills the air and lingers, so that an opened door tilts the head back,
a hazy effect on the mind and thought processes that leaves the thinker in awe of his own self,
to know one's worth, how much per gram of soul
and to appreciate their craving and need for you to be in the palm of their hand, or rolled up and inhaled euphorically.
It is odd for a flower to wish she were a **** however, some gardens aren't meant to be watered, rather, they are destined to become forest fires.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 1:00 AM UTC
projects and projections from one mind one body one soul
painfully euphorically to the next in full-circle sunset
resting, waiting to be eaten up up and away into Oblivion
(give me an O, give me a B, give me an L, **** it, let’s get high)
not knowing – never knowing – couldn’t bear to know
within a cycle of parties and pills and pain
new philosophies would erupt from wrist and elbow
because we should have Let It Be
because we couldn’t have Let It Be
because because because because because of the wonderful things we’ve done
and the laws we’ve yet to break, the palms we’ve yet to trace
and the things we’ve yet to burn
but in exodus our torches lost their flame
so one by one we light our hands
****** burning flesh between the trees
and stumble toward the long-set sun
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 11:39 AM UTC
Oh, the way you inhabit me
I shudder, etched inside of me is the feeling of dying
Pulsing, your emanations
Consume me and I refuse to release you from my clutches
Struck breathless instantly
You offer little reason, but you return my robbed passion
I glimpse at your grave eyes
And I feel the tide of the sea within me start to part for you
You catalyze my stolen gaze
I almost feel you shudder and rush in my sodden esophagus
A soft pink suckle
I euphorically asphyxiate for you, on you – with you
Unuttered, my subconscious
Fabricates the smell and taste of your flesh using your words
My body is left ravenous
To the conjecture of your apparition as it levitates above me
Below you I kneel – impure
Please let your sensory invading of my aquatic mind cleanse me
I chant a plea to your figment
Imagining your tongue feeling the words move inside my mouth
My glistening incantations drip
And I feel your stirring when my lips part for evening prayer
I awaken an appetent beast
Rising to dominate the submission hibernating in my sharp bones
My locked jaw wants it all
I won’t release you, so let me taste your last watery breath
I shudder, etched inside of me is the feeling of dying
Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 8:21 AM UTC
I breathe in the life of this moment
And tightly hold it
I crawl inside one special memory
Then relive all the ones you had chosen
To be yourself with me, the times I felt the ease
Of all the times you took what I then labelled as broken
My most sacred pieces, you so unknowingly seized
And glued together, flawlessly
My love was stolen
With monologues and poems, though often unspoken
I read them in your eyes when you'd reflect them to me
We lay on the shores of an emerald ocean
Two hearts now beating in perfect symmetry
Repaired irreparably, we knew we were permanently
No longer allowing our own worst opponents
To direct how we reflected our deepest emotions
We said, now is a crucial time to be open
And since then we've been together
Euphorically frozen
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
The sweetest love is always the love that feels unattainable. The sweetest taste, with a bitter undertone. Euphorically stinging your tongue. A dark chocolate that settles like poison in your stomach, sickening your insides. A craving for a diseased confection that destroys the soul. You yearn for a stomachache, a heartache, a soul darkened in the purest way.
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 3:36 AM UTC
We locked eyes
and I knew then,
There was nothing
more beautiful
than the color of
tragedy. It’s like I
euphorically
traveled In time
and submerged
my soul in an aura
of different emotions
love, heartbreak,
loneliness, hope,
all at once. An
adrenaline of hues.
Don’t we all live for
these feelings of
inspiration? The
addictiveness
of its vibration..
Sandoval
Aug 25, 2020
Aug 25, 2020 at 2:49 AM UTC
As I contemplated the project of writing a persuasive essay I discovered that I would have to have a topic upon which to practice my persuasive techniques . After much cogitation and enumeration of my possibilities , pursued with such zeal that it soon resembled pedantic ostentation , I concluded that the most positive prospect I could pursue in this endeavor would be an attempt to prove irrefutably that I deserve a grade of A in this class ; if not for the undeniable excellence of my effort , then at least for the unadulterated audacity of my pretentious assertion .
In order to perform this feat first I must overwhelm your developing consternation , the frozen mastodon of your auspicious judition . To accomplish this I will cite my impeccable attendance ; which although not perfect was indeed a valiant effort in the face of public opinion whose abstinence approached epidemic proportions . I will expound on the effectual and pervasive inspirations of my in class commentary , which sparked many a heated argument or thoughtful conjecture ; and comment on the polished precision of my in class narration . I will reiterate the diversity and intrigue of my subject matter and the competence of my delivery .
Next , with all the dynamic aggression of a wind-up tyrannosaur , I will recapitulate and exemplify my arguments ; until the ramifications of my inductive collusions exceed the boundaries of your psychic phenomenon and you are forced to acquiesce into impunity .
Yes I will indeed proceed to exceed the parameters of your mind , until mesmerized by the multitudes of analogous content you find yourself , disguised as captain corpuscle , floating euphorically down stream in a think box mind gram dingy towards a sea of Colorado cool aid . Then as if all that were not enough to thoroughly torque your ringer , adamant and tenacious I will portray realms of intellectual austerity so intriguing you will be raised to new heights of enigmatism , and then I will leave you , enraptured with your own anonymity , at the edge, of the new world freeway .
Jun 26, 2021
Jun 26, 2021 at 2:56 PM UTC
*My only wish is to wake up
in the warm embrace that is your bare body,
covered in sheets as soft as a flowers petals.
Swimming in an endless ocean
of pretty things, you'd whisper
into ears, asleep, only to know,
I'd recite them in the morning,
like a perfectly structured poem,
that would soon enough wake you from slumber.
Because whispers are made to make us
listen*.
*I'm so glad I listened,
sleep well, and dream
euphorically*.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 9:06 PM UTC
"Hesitation equals Hell. If in doubt always grab, then you have what you did not have," she muses, vanishing quickly. I never know where. Through the always open door or up into the old wooden rafters in the ceiling?
I never actually see this sagacious ghost from the nether world of books, I have christened "Marya." But one time I thought I did. A regal, shining form of human outline fleeing across my vision like some splendorous goddess. Later I realized it was a trick of the sun glancing off the metal space heater in blinding refractions.
Another time, a blowy day was scratching tree branches against the windowpanes and I thought I saw her escaping in the bowed headlong rush of those branches.
Sometimes I want to call out to her, but laugh at that because only I know her name.
Yet some days I feel her real as my own two hands that open these books with such pure enthrallment and discovery. It is then I feel strangely at one with her, accept her capricious ways.
If I turn from a shelf in sudden wonder and inner riches, but am stuck with a nagging contextual query, I feel her jostle up beside me and take me off in a spin towards the rare book section where, like the answer to some hidden Grail, my nagging quandary resolves euphorically.
Down the aisles she is like my searching shadow trailing, whispering in my ear, "Take your time. I can wait. I will always wait for your treasured selections, my embattled, stalwart book lover!"
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC
mermaid
i was happy,
my soul intoxicated euphorically
i get to talk to you, get to see you smile
my mind
It etched portraits of us
every sadness in me,
my mind ostracised
just by seeing your tall figure.
that one fight, that one fault.
i regret it till this day,
nothing was the same after that,
i wish i could swim away from this,
make you forget,
a tale of mermaid being turned to bubbles,
that's what I imagined.
I hurt you, i disappointed you.
I should turn to sea bubbles, popped when being touched,
soft and harmless,
that way, i know
I won't hurt you,
because everytime i try to carress you,
smile definitely paints on your face
i disappear,
but with your smile
captured on my last glance.
- kimin
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 6:32 AM UTC