"exalts" poems
Drowning in a cesspool of wishes
Destiny swims no farther than fishes.
Diligence seduces the tide,
She elopes, makes her a bride.
The singing bird sings,
The humming bee stings.
Inactivity kills the sweet dreamer but
Also exalts not the lazy ****
Puff your blunt, roll up your sleeves
Kiss your tools, empty your sheaths
Pray your hands grind the right mill,
Your hustle will have you chill.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
*Man and woman, though different
Are equal in the eyes of God.
inexplicable though true but still
Unacceptable for some perhaps
Man is the highest of all creations
Woman is the most sublime of all Ideals.
God made for a man a throne,
for a woman an altar.
the throne exalts,
The altar sanctifies.
Man is the brain.
woman is the heart.
The brain fabricates light while
The heart produces love.
light fecunds,
Love resuscitates.
Man is the code.
Woman is the gospel.
The code corrects
As the gospel perfects.
Man is the genius while
Woman is the angel.
The genius is undefinable
And the angel is immeasurable.
Man is strong in reason
but woman is invincible in her tears.
Reason convinces the most stubborn
Just as tears soften the hardest of mortals.
Man is the ocean
And the woman is the lake.
The ocean has it's pearls that adorn;
The lake has its poems that dazzle.*
***Man stands where the earth ends;
And woman where heaven begins.***
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
Nobility divine fills gaps of transcendence,
Soars to and from the throne heavenly,
Exalts morals near the king of ascendance,
Patrolling the good, and sons of the seventy.
A duty forgotten, replaced with dependence,
On prayers rarely heard, and logic of a herd -
Divinity is far in absence; man in attendance,
The book is a third, and teachings are blurred.
Andeliviuan corruption supposedly erased:
The creation rotten of Sariel, wanders gaily.
The holy and fallen angel’s doing embraced,
By the clay beings caressing evil like a frailly.
By God not, who from heaven him displaced.
Yet, the legacy of the wrong stands humanly,
In Thailand, America, Palestine, and all graced -
A grace of sinfulness celestial and worldly.
Religion is the poor’s only ultimate truth,
the rich’s side hustle, and the rulers’ tool;
It is the loss of power that defiles the sooth,
The one the poor has not, but does the fool.
Robbers’ servants, bread crumbs consumers,
Toothless **** dogs, emaciated lost tramps,
Little blind pawns, vultures’ puppets, tumours,
And wrenches they are, the upper hand’s lambs.
If only Raguel’s judgements fall upon man,
Raphael’s punishment beautifies this existence,
Gabriel’s wrath makes not all humans ane,
And Michael saves us, the Sarahs, in assistance.
In the heart deepened with old repression,
That mounts with plenitude of filtered feels,
Resides a universe yearning for expression,
In a meat clay who feeds on calories of meals.
Man, in the genesis, in the light, in the dark,
In prosperity, in turmoil, triumphed with vices;
vileness, abuse, wreckage is our sole mark,
On this planet whose population is in slices.
Oct 21, 2022
Oct 21, 2022 at 5:18 AM UTC
This isn't your mother's dance.
The wooden clave
seduces the naive
into suave arms
of the night.
Quick quick slow
exalts wooden caderas
and untames silky locks.
Wrinkled hands
caress the caras
of clumsy coquetas.
In the name of the dance,
vestidos apretados
replace pants,
which men outgrow,
steeling blue eyes
in rusty miradas.
Mirandla.
*Mira la guera,
como se toca,
como se mueve,
comos se salta el vestido suyo.*
Mirandlo.
*Look at him,
how he touches me,
how he swings me,
how his feet mock me.*
Mirandnos
Ella me quiere.
We are JUST dancing.
Ayyy, como me pega.
We're close, but Salsa is intimate.
Oooh mami...
Does he think it's more than a dance?
quick quick slow,
quick quick slow,
quick quick slow,
quicK quiCK quICK qUICK QUICK...
...silence.
they shake hands,
and thank each other for the dance.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC
Clashing lights from the shadows;
Thundering in constant motion
Red swarms overtaking the blue nights,
A grand disturbance -
Raging through the cosmos
Shifting the course of this endless strife
(Wake up now,
We have misconstrued our fate)
Spiraling forth, into nebulous unknown
The force flows from within;
Embrace the cause -
To restore a balance lost aeons ago
Gears turning towards a lie
Deceived by peace
Crucial moments for the light;
Two tides collide
Detrimental,
Sacrifices,
Interstellar transmutation
Exiled till, the return of the progeny
Remnants of the order
Confined to, the corners of the galaxy
Strengthened, by the chosen one
Fallen hero;
Exalts into gradeur
Shining greater than the stars
Universal luminescence
Macrocosmic ~
As Above So Below
Frequencies resonating,
Constructing wretched Elysium
Eternal cataclysm,
Decimation
A massive surge of power;
Lost, following the stars of scripture
Kingdoms falling one by one ~
NOVUS ORDO
Symmetry unfolds
Visions pass
Fallacies expose
Divine excursion
Escape the stasis
Elevate, frame of mind
Amidst resistance;
Ignite lucidity
Harmony engulfs,
This fractured existence
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC
When we look deep inside,
Our hearts quaver, our soul
Shiver, our minds doubt,
Our spirit….uncertainty
Of which is which
One in all, all in one
We do not know.
When we worship,
He goes by the Gita,
She, by the Koran,
I… the Bible
All for one God,
Why the differences?
When we pray,
He praises Krisna,
She exalts Moha,
I pray Christ,
Avenues to one God.
When we die,
He re-incarnates,
She enters paradise
I awaits judgment
What injustice!
But …what if I were
To seek out the Unborn
And find the hidden balance?
Apr 8, 2011
Apr 8, 2011 at 4:14 PM UTC
SUMMER MARCHES IN
(Movement no. 1)
It comes crashing down
like doom.
A martial fanfare
begins a long conversation
questioning fate,
arguing for the human condition,
and for death's open invitation,
which we dare not deny.
WHAT THE MEADOW FLOWERS TELL ME
(Movement no. 2)
Their blooming voices
are oboes and lush violins.
The sun is surely brassy bright
in the sky above.
Radiant alpine flowers
and woodwinds
from deep within their burrows
make the case
for a music well tended
and serenely fed
by sweet springs emerging from the depths
here below.
WHAT THE CREATURES OF THE FOREST TELL ME
(Movement no. 3)
The life force
tends to run amok.
Yet things do not fall apart,
the center still holds.
And though it is mundane -
pedestrian, at times -
we cannot deny the joy in this life,
nor do we wish to.
But know, traveler,
that submerged in every caldron of joy
is a small *** of darkness.
And it will find you
or you will find it -
not only because it is fated,
but for the sake of your sanity.
WHAT MAN TELLS ME
(Movement no. 4)
Here darkness sings.
Again the plucked string.
O Mensch!
You tell the tale!
You take this story
back to the mountain.
A woeful tale you bring,
but it is gilded with joy.
A chorus exalts your condition.
Deep is its grief,
but joy is deeper still.
WHAT THE ANGELS TELL ME
(Movement no. 5)
Bimm Bamm
Bimm Bamm
the children's choir
sweetly intones.
And what, pray tell,
do Angels have to say to us?
I've heard about love
I've heard about emptiness
I've heard about absence
without presence,
about nothingness and the void.
But I have never heard such singing!
WHAT LOVE TELLS ME
(Movement no. 6)
Sweet the air we breathe.
Pleasant the sights before us.
Words are stilled,
anxious thoughts banished.
There is nothing on Earth
or in Heaven
that disputes this sweet resolution
all the parts made whole
Nothing that could possibly
speak against it
(though French Horns will have
their interests heard).
But here it is.
The end.
O Mensch
come to your last and best
resting place.
Also sprach Gustav Mahler.
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 9:19 PM UTC
1395
After all Birds have been investigated and laid aside—
Nature imparts the little Blue-Bird—assured
Her conscientious Voice will soar unmoved
Above ostensible Vicissitude.
First at the March—competing with the Wind—
Her panting note exalts us—like a friend—
Last to adhere when Summer cleaves away—
Elegy of Integrity.
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Beneath the cloak of the cosmic night's embrace,
He emerged, a reaper clad in shadows profound.
A silhouette of darkness, a harbinger of fate,
He, the reaper, destined to navigate.
With a cloak that whispered tales of the unknown,
He tread the realm where love and mystery were sown.
A wraith-like figure with a scythe of steel,
Yet within the shadows, a tender allure concealed.
From the garden of hearts, he plucked love's bloom,
A reaper entwined in the dance of impending doom.
His touch, a paradox of life and demise,
Yet in his presence, love found unforeseen ties.
Cloaked in midnight's velvet, a silhouette sublime,
He moved through realms, transcending space and time.
His eyes, the void where galaxies expire,
Yet within them, a spark, an unseen fire.
For my love, he was the reaper, a paradoxical guide,
Harvesting passions, where destinies coincide.
In the tapestry of love and shadows intertwined,
He wove a tale where mortality and eternity bind.
In the graveyard of dreams, where hopes lay to rest,
He walked beside me, an enigmatic guest.
A reaper for my love, a spectral dance,
We twirled through the twilight, in a fleeting trance.
In the embrace of darkness, where whispers unfold,
He spoke of love in a language untold.
A reaper's touch, gentle and severe,
As he harvested the echoes of love and fear.
He was a reaper for my love, an ethereal waltz,
In the twilight symphony where destiny exalts.
For in the shadows, where our love did thrive,
He, the reaper, kept our immortal love alive.
Dec 2, 2023
Dec 2, 2023 at 8:01 PM UTC
The palpable concern which I get and which is on its increment every day..
“YES ITZ MIE DAD”
The love preserved deep in heart and with an apt attitude towards life..
“YES ITZ MIE DAD”
The balanced and the devoted way towards his profession
“YES ITZ MIE DAD”
The curiosity and depth as if a techie in computer..
“YES ITZ MIE DAD”
The infallible way in which i always get my queries sorted out .
“YES ITZ MIE DAD”
The glance which exalts us every weekend..
“YES ITZ MIE DAD”
The person whom I accolade..
OH! YES ITZ MIE DAD..
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
ensconced in perpetual darkness, you sleep
restless dreams orbit your mind
yet comfort cannot be found
Pluto, the loneliest planet
not even the Sun can touch you
high school textbooks disregard you
the stars will never glimmer for you
Pluto, the loneliest planet
but have faith
dreamers and late night romantics understand you
god of the underworld exalts you, brother of darkness
New Horizons will arrive shortly, a friend for
Pluto, the loneliest planet
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 8:34 PM UTC
Its mystical fog rolls in and out like the tide;
calm and restful or merciless and destructive,
this sea can be a blessing to man,
but it has also hardened many hearts.
In this serene state I can comprehend how long the universe is,
the time involved in eternity,
and the grains of sand in a googolplex,
serenity unmatched.
The windswept countenance is breath taking,
a stepping stone to the heavens,
the exhilarating panorama exalts me,
then humbles me because of its magnificent beauty.
It demands reverence for it is glorious.
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 6:25 PM UTC
every poet the world deems great
has written an elegant legacy
dedicated to himself
tallying all his wisdom
as he glorifies in his shame
he decidedly exalts his ego
and spreads the infamy of his name
so my muse, accept my invocation
as I write myself into epic proportion
collecting the vast library of my life
I eagerly fold back the cover
of the first volume in mint condition
but as I open it I learn astonishment
every page shines in unblemished white
in my fearsome excitement
I **** each book carelessly off the shelf
tearing pages and breaking spines
as the discarded books crash to the floor
and when it is completed all I have
is a pile of broken futures
and only a slender volume represents
the object of my reckless search
this book now my chief treasure
I sit down at my cluttered desk
to incline my ear and listen
and discern what material is worthy
for inclusion in my great work of art
but I am shocked to discover
that the pages hold insufficient promise
except the whisper of future possiblilities
which I have just hurled into dust
in the grand tradition of yesterday
I must finish in the same way I began
every poet who has written
a heroic tale of self
has exausted all his wonder
and reduced his life to metred lines
the good things are all gone
and all that remains is bleak and empty
when seen in the light of dawn
May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 4:44 PM UTC
My spirit wants to do right, but the flesh is unwilling to comply. That's why it must die. Daily. Crucified. All the affections and lusts, crushed with the weight of his Spirit hear to comfort mine own until this mind disownes every thought that exalts itself against the one on the Throne. Adonai, El Shaddai, Elohim, thou most High, Prince of peace, never cease, to amaze, the Blood connected to the earth and awoke men out of graves/I refuse to be sinfully enslaved, hiding in dens and cavs like the ones his goodness tried to save...I understand you Paul, you did what you didn't want to and didn't do what you should have did, yet the Master forgives. I wanna live burden free, no hurt in me, I don't want to subconsciously hold on to the flair of dramatics, rejecting a life lived peacefully while repetitious requests prayed vainfully asking God to take the pain away yet rejecting his orders so the pain can stay. In a twisted way, some people depend on there own misery, no matter how much they complain about it. Because its either what they know best or all they know, and familiarity can be a mental, emotional and spiritual ******* that most...can't let go...well Lord im willing. I'm willing to let go of the past that you already have a long time ago. I'm willing to see myself through your eyes. I'm willing to allow you to turn this anger into joy, this easy irritability into long suffering, this pride into honor, false humility into the one we clothe in..im willing to allow all the pain the sting of rejection gave me over the years, to place shamelessly in your healing hands, im willing to give you the violin, that I've used to play the songs for every pity party thrown within, Upon personal request, while partly oblivious, to the world around me is dying in sin. Lord, continue to help me locate the man I was always suppose to be. Reveal him to me. Describe him to me. Develop me into him. He's been waiting for my embrace for too long. And I'm ready..to put away Childish things..
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 12:54 AM UTC
I don't own many dresses
or pairs of shoes
Just a few special dresses
that make me look pretty
and a pair or two, of shoes
*sandals for summer
sneakers in Winter*
ten times the amount
I could have spent
was spent on you
I troll around a second hand store
because I think I'm unique
because extra funds bring you hope
denying things are bleak
Food on the table
a roof over your head
the latest Xbox game
cable Internet
my birthday laptop
you're insulting me on
Foxtel
112 Channels
While you sit
under a feather blanket
as others in the world
have yet to be fed
Breakfast, Lunch or Dinner
What's that you said?
You don't care what I think?
I don't know what it's like?
I'm destroying your sense
of adventure?
Why don't you twist the knife?
Disrespected for my opinion
when you're green as new grass
Freedom most certainly is a right
but as all rights, it is earned
don't take what is not asked
I lost a most precious gift
because I could not comprehend
the lessons I was trying to teach
were so hard to defend
I'm not asking you to obey me
because I absolute rule your domain
I'm begging you to heed my wisdom
I have a right to remain
The absolute authority
on Life, an expert on how it unfolds
My body agrees by the strecthmarks
it holds,
My heart agrees in its tightness
to the breath it exhales
My soul exalts in its freedom
to breath trueness to its tales
I'm not just wanting to be a parent
I'm wanting to be a voice
a monument to mistakes made
a whisper of choice
A landmark in uncertain territory
a safe haven in a storm
If you defy Wisdom
from absolute tragedy
I become a useless memory
and I'm nothing but a receptacle
for you teenage angst
I'm am nothing
I am the norm
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 4:47 AM UTC
To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;
'Tis water makes the willow thrive,
And grace that feeds the soul.
The Lord's unsparing hand
Supplies the living stream;
It is not at our own command,
But still derived from Him.
Beware of Peter's word,
Nor confidently say,
"I never will deny Thee, Lord," --
But, -- "Grant I never may."
Man's wisdom is to seek
His strength in God alone;
And e'en an angel would be weak,
Who trusted in his own.
Retreat beneath his wings,
And in His gace confide!
This more exalts the King of kings
Than all your works beside.
In Jesus is our store,
Grace issues from His throne;
Whoever says, "I want no more,"
Confesses he has done.
1.2k
Suicide me again oh love
it hurts to be overwhelmed with your humiliating zealous lust
my genitals nimbus like a glowing golden peach
so ripe corruption is shadowing hungrily
At church I forget I am an animal
slowly poisoned by communion , candles , brochures , verses ,
beautiful music of the spheres exalts all singers absolved
Purity lends me a shackle and a guiltless time on my knees
**** this pain these senses
basic needs met and yet i fret
particulars stick in my eye
I can't see how horrible i am
when i watch csi
my dna can betray me with babies and jail time
God please bless the homeless and starving far far away
while i am starving for pleasure as my overfed ego takes the last
bite of icecream eaten to avoid feeling alone
I hate this commericial
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 9:15 PM UTC
Cast upon the falling sky of Astraea,
The vast star empire of Sindar exalts.
The moon and the Goddess blessed nature,
As roots and the forest caress upon the waterfall.
Where the stones carve the wooden furnishes,
As Mother Earth nurtures the soils and the vegetation.
With thunders clash upon the great sea,
As it ripples into a tsunami and hurricane.
As soft as a petal of roses bloom,
But as sharp as it's thorns she speaks in tongue.
The melody of sweet sweet nectar of the harp she speaks,
And the skies kneel before her tongue.
But vigilant to guard her will.
Such is the mystic aura of her allure,
Like a old folk song enchanted heart,
And silence worthy to hear our beats in chest.
The creature refined by age of time,
More precious than fine jewels of the night sky,
It is the unspeakable beauty eludes us all.
More majestic than the pearls of all of the seven seas,
With not the unicorn or rainbows match the *** of gold she stands,
And like the star she eclipse illumination in the night!
Astraea be blessed,
For we were gifted by her light,
The blessed light of the night.
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 9:57 PM UTC
A pair of eagles connect in the air
in that mysterious way that birds can.
Rats that gave up the sea and the sinking
ships for a soaring finger
with which to scratch the night sky until
the skin breaks.
Here, they retain that tenuous extension,
a spark of the sin,
that ****** aristocracy that exalts in
making masks out of vellum day
and glowering down from box seats at
the beginning of the descent.
Whether in the sea or fallen as a tree,
the sky is memory.
No one bites me quite the way you do
or locks me with that tenderness of fright.
I cannot see the way we fit as one
But I must fall with you to rocky white.
Feb 6, 2010
Feb 6, 2010 at 6:50 PM UTC
You don't really want me
Or know what I am
I'm more of a monster
Than I am a man
To learn what I've done
In the past, a nightmare
To see through my eyes
Is a sun-spotted glare
It would just leave you blind
With your tail in between
And your past in rewind
Up a flash-broken stream
Yet as it fast-forwards
It all passes by
You will feel like a God
All alone in the sky
Where your setting resembles
The beauty in pain
Born merely to die
While bound to this brain
As a feeling machine
With a lithium heart
Energized by emotional
Chemical art
As it flows from the brush,
Or the pen, or the sword
Machiavellian muses
Of severed accord
Couldn't stop the all-mighty
The father of time
The eternal high king
The most masterful mind
Who hears your exalts
As the crack of a whip
Because demons of freedom
Are my power trip
And I worship my maker
My change and my spark
With a riddle bit light
And a hint of the dark
You may follow the leader
Or challenge the tyrant
Regardless, the sheep
All submit to the lion
But I only hunger
For words to fulfill
My famished empire
Without the blood spill
Still I hold no claim
To this gilded cage feast
I wish only to tame
This industrial beast
End the ownership over
This name-branded earth
And slash the price tags
From the truth in the dirt
When I rise from the void
The undeadliest ghost
The half-life of the party
The first Sunday post
I am rare breeds of rebel
The blue-shaded red
I'm the hammer and sickle
The grim reaper's dread
My coup will be swift
Like a thief in the night
My reign will endure
Through the ages I write
My purge will emerge
In the surging of storms
My war will lay waste
To these spineless conforms
And from ashes of norms
And the freeing of slaves
I will build pyramids
Atop amber grain waves
I will cleanse atmos-fears
With metropolis trees
Deforested cities
Will fall to their knees
But I will uplift them
To share in my vision
As I keep the peace treaty
Sealed in this prism
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 4:17 AM UTC
It's not of how be the door,
But be of moments made by those sleepeth in depth,
One is said to have failed to sleep,
Christ, The Messiah.
Death now did mourn,
And mourning became first away from man,
To us, It comes so slender,
Sweeping breath out of bodies,
Souls lay hanging helpless of deed,
What's left of them is being Ghosts,
Be it to Earth remaining,
Or to Heaven ascending.
Words untold, Deeds shall speak,
The art of thine Legacy shall say for thee,
You are the littlest master of your past,
But be thee the significant creator of thy morrow.
Live before your light dies out,
Or yet die before your light burns you.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
Poetry conceals the meaning
But reveals the emotions.
It speaks of love,
But lies about the pain.
It shines bright as it exalts,
But shades the motives within.
Poetry cleanses the soul,
Yet releases the beasts within.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 9:49 PM UTC
Near the wavey waltz of beach
above are Gulls flocking by,
downward rays her beauty's peach
to carom and meet my eye.
Golden strands outshines the sands
and gazing pupils allure;
to deeply swim the ocean's hands
that cleanse lover's demure.
Winds ripple her amber dress
to homage summer's fashion
so lissom that I profess
her mine! Ashore of passion.
The hushing brine, splashes sighs
as to how her shimmer gleams
and none so ever arise
that'll match my lover's beams.
Let this diamond, kissed by sun
flow gently my love's decree
that she'll be mine, soon as one;
this rose's beauty will be.
With smile's high, and dripping eye
she exalts through salty air
"with love so vast, outdone the sky
of course! Now an eternal pair!"
In echo then, the seashells!
whom plush of Cupid's spree
foretells of ocean love spells
of her, me by lover's sea.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC