"exceeds" poems
*erstwhile a halcyon extant universe incessantly ceaseless
cradled itself in hues of violet phosphorescence
laced with cobalt shimmering stars
perpetually whole it nonetheless
sought to know itself
encompassing all that is bubbling over in effervescent ebullience
intertwined with indescribable catastrophic splendor
it shattered into tens of millions of splinters
of eloquent efflorescent light
shining in the night
each splinter heretofore imbued with sempiternal felicity
began to conjure sumptuous dulcet elixirs
furtively seeking out savory emollients
to mollify the pique of separation
plummeting they fell
into monstrous competition seeking demesne they lost the purpose
of gaining awareness and intelligent consciousness
surreptitious estrangement overflowed
deluging them in excruciating agony
thus an epiphany was born
the carving of the beleaguered fragments inked with tremendous pain
created a transfiguration of splinters to crystals
hence enlightenment commenced as the gems
magnetized together constructing a world
where omnipotence shines
the ineffable beauty formed by the reintegration of crystals
far exceeds the original as they dazzle with universal light
bursting from diamonds etched in deep wisdom
flooding the firmament with kaleidoscopic
rainbow strobes cascading the sky
©2016janetaylor
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 1:23 PM UTC
Blessed are we all to live in a time
when the love of Craft beer exceeds that for wine.
Hops, malt and barley all now rule the day
When brewed up together in a nice I.P.A.
Who cares if some hipsters choose to babble away
about hints of oak in some obscure Chardonnay.
We are no longer limited to our father’s Budweiser.
The vast choice of beers would astound those old timers!
Cherry Wheat, pumpkin, and Oktoberfest
You’ll fall down on your face ere you’ve tried all the rest.
As Ben Franklin stated wittily and succinctly”
“Beer is the proof God meant man to be happy.”
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC
Piteous my rhyme is
What while I muse of love and pain,
Of love misspent, of love in vain,
Of love that is not loved again:
And is this all then?
As long as time is,
Love loveth. Time is but a span,
The dalliance space of dying man:
And is this all immortals can?
The gain were small then.
Love loves for ever,
And finds a sort of joy in pain,
And gives with nought to take again,
And loves too well to end in vain:
Is the gain small then?
Love laughs at "never",
Outlives our life, exceeds the span
Appointed to mere mortal man:
All which love is and does and can
Is all in all then.
8.1k
So I'm just sitting down
Beside a stranger
Playing his guitar beautifully,
Meditating on the idea of how we
As human beings can only go so far.
As far as you can go
Exceeds as far as you can see.
I'm physically near-sighted.
I'm not sure if it's because of that long ago accident
When a tsunami of gasoline soaked my eyes,
But everything far is a water color blur to me,
Is it in fact the same for you?
There are addicts on the curb,
Abandoned dogs without a home.
How did they get there?
I can guess and assume,
Without the slightest clue.
I'm as anxious as an alcoholic
In a state of withdrawal.
Did I fall from Heaven like Lucifer?
Slightly overweight
Then slightly anorexic.
I've thought of less lately,
Less of fate.
Struggled with labels,
"That kid is anti-social."
As soon as
Words *** like fertile *****
You regret the consequence's backlash.
Why am I even bringing up **** from the past?
Don't get me wrong,
My story is not a complete sob story.
Anything I hold back,
I will admit and confess and address,
Always.
Originally written 2/4/11
Revised 10/15/14
(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC
By Janis Ian
I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth...
And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say "come dance with me"
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems at seventeen...
A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
Whose name I never could pronounce
Said: "Pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve"
The rich relationed hometown queen
Marries into what she needs
With a guarantee of company
And haven for the elderly...
So remember those who win the game
Lose the love they sought to gain
In debitures of quality and dubious integrity
Their small-town eyes will gape at you
In dull surprise when payment due
Exceeds accounts received at seventeen...
To those of us who knew the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
the world was younger than today
when dreams were all they gave for free
to ugly duckling girls like me...
We all play the game, and when we dare
We cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say: "Come on, dance with me"
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me, at seventeen...
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 3:34 PM UTC
We were an explosion:
we mattered and filled the empty spaces out.
We drew constellations on our walls,
planned a future amongst those stars.
There's planets we dressed
and passionate nebulas we blessed.
But somewhere in between the crosshairs,
the distance exceeds us;
we kept adding anyway.
Time was a construct made for us to measure our existence but instead I count the seconds like decades. Your hands haven't reached for mine in eons.
Our Universe might have grown
but now we're galaxies apart.
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 9:36 AM UTC
I
Not once in all our days of poignant love,
Did I a single instant give to thee
My undivided being wholly free.
Not all thy potent passion could remove
The barrier that loomed between to prove
The full supreme surrendering of me.
Oh, I was beaten, helpless utterly
Against the shadow-fact with which I strove.
For when a cruel power forced me to face
The truth which poisoned our illicit wine,
That even I was faithless to my race
Bleeding beneath the iron hand of thine,
Our union seemed a monstrous thing and base!
I was an outcast from thy world and mine.
II
Adventure-seasoned and storm-buffeted,
I shun all signs of anchorage, because
The zest of life exceeds the bound of laws.
New gales of tropic fury round my head
Break lashing me through hours of soulful dread;
But when the terror thins and, spent, withdraws,
Leaving me wondering awhile, I pause--
But soon again the risky ways I tread!
No rigid road for me, no peace, no rest,
While molten elements run through my blood;
And beauty-burning bodies manifest
Their warm, heart-melting motions to be wooed;
And passion boldly rising in my breast,
Like rivers of the Spring, lets loose its flood.
4.6k
forgotten trifles
dust and pollen
tie the land and sea together
with a thicket of pine
white light shining through its crown
a bough once firmly rooted in heavy layers of strata
now aboveground it exceeds its breach
like a loaf of darkened bread
it lies (resting in the sand) stacked in rows
the sun and moon having melded its form
--- --- ---
the sky is a coronae of thorns coming down to greet me
running on the beach we see what looks like the torso of an elephant, I say its a wrecked ship, a storm has washed it ashore, you say it came from the Big Bang, we laugh and sit together on the end of an exposed epoch
it is dead
we are alive
thick with moments of compassion
fused with ignorance and neglect
how now are we communicating -- do you remember when you looked into my eyes and raised your arms triumphantly and proclaimed “ologemeide ... I tamed you!”?
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 7:47 PM UTC
Our wonderful ad
features full frontal nudes
of chin chiseled, eye pleasing,
ab sculptured dudes.
Our ad shows designs,
simply put: haute couture
You can find all that’s fine intertwined in brochures
that assure,
our ad is a true work of art!
Epic music composed to impose on the heart.
Cheeky infants that dance
in suggestive red glow.
Gargantuan ****
filmed up close and
S -- L -- O -- W -- M -- O
...
Our ad?
Well, by god! It’s a wonderful show!
Cinematic façade that will strike all with awe!
With a well-crafted subtext encoded within
“ALL HAIL PROSTITUTION!”
“ABORTION IS SIN!”
Action!
Gunfire!
Blood!
Severed limbs all around!
Shattered windows!
Kung-fu that exceeds speeds of sound!
Monumental achievement!
Our ad will start soon!
But before, just a word from our sponsor
Stay tuned…
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC
Humanity has no support to duty
Both contrary in dealing and punctuality:
Non-the-less deny each claims still their validity
Former needs emotional skip where later regularity!
Humanity is a thing roundly soul concern
Fancies of many idles, despotic and obligated.
Estimate not to beautify active approach return;
Deserve aid remarkable quiet pleasing black arts.
Duty declares the deed must accomplish statutable,
Gratitude, greed and gratification are sub-judice here-of:
A crazy caution compel to foil inapplicable
Yonker's pride, old hand cultivated doctrinal of.
Certain condition humanity plays role of pre-eminence
Duty looks wanting help out of heels,
Depending on probation passion of sincerity convince,
Rejecting deep binder satisfactorily set aside exceeds.
If stands duty and humanity both together,
Glorifies the spirit immortal as His name
And also deal showing clean impersonality further,
None appeal to mercy could not dare blame.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 4:14 AM UTC
Oh what of the demon cat
Foul tauntress in my sight
Whose reputation for ratting
Far exceeds her deeds this night
Far more likely she, to play
Than upon that one to pounce
She tolerates the evil rat
Within this very house
25Apr2002
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 3:50 PM UTC
I used to be unique.
Kool-Aid hair dye and all.
Boys wrote my name on bathrooms stalls.
I swore at teachers.
I drank ***** behind the bleachers.
I puked at football games on cheerleaders.
I had black eyes and cigarette burns and soccer thighs.
I used to wear my shirt undone.
I used to have fun.
Now I own a 6-room house,
a 4-door car,
a water-dispensing fridge,
bell jars.
Also, religion,
caffeine addiction,
magazine subscriptions,
diazepam prescriptions,
goldfish,
900 pairs of shoes,
PVA glue,
a self-inflicted curfew,
sexually transmitted virtue,
and many, many cats.
All this between walls painted in 6 muted shades of deja-vu
from whence I commence my pin-cushion voodoo.
I sleep in pajamas.
I set an alarm clock and my snooze allowance never exceeds 4 minutes.
I spend my mornings yawning
through thick oatmeal,
********** in the dark.
I work in a bank
in an office
on a phone,
making friends with dead ends.
I come home to wash, rinse, and repeat,
undress in the dark,
and brush away the question marks
of hair in the bathtub.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 7:49 AM UTC
If ever there was a time to stop breathing I chose a clearing at dawn.
A deer appeared right as the gleam of the sun touched the top of the forest line.
I heard a chipmunk scurrying across the oak roots rising from the ground.
A cardinal group begins to sing in the distance--as their sounds reaches me, I realized I have been distracted and turn my attention back to the fourteen point, white-tailed buck in the clearing.
I slowly lift my weapon.
I set my aim, positioning the cross (in the scope) at the shoulder of this magnificent creature, and I catch my breath.
The situation itself is far beyond a man simply taking the life of an animal--exceeds the thrill of a firing pin striking, creating an explosion that builds pressure, sending a six centimeter long, one and a half centimeter wide copper-coated bullet through the rifling pattern and into a target one hundred and fifty yards away.
I believe that Destiny brought us together based on the choices we both made.
I can only guess the animal's intentions (running away from a predator, looking for a mate, etc)
Myself? I am here because I argued with my wife of 25 years.
The deer drops to the ground.
We all make choices.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 9:53 AM UTC
You may have an idea
You may have a thought
But I'm like North Korea
Everything? I think not
You don't know my experience
You don't know my background
My story exceeds your intelligence
The mysteries while I'm not around
You don't know what people say
You don't know how people live
You hear something new everyday
And you have no intelligence to give
So back away from lives other that yours
And learn about yourself before taking tours
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
My heart is malfunctioning and sends blood to my pupils.
Now my heart lacks oxygen and all I see is pain.
And through these blood shot eyes I can’t see a thing.
If I ever love again, I won’t ever love the same.
Have you ever seen oxygen filled, blood red tears?
Have you ever felt pain run down your cheeks?
I cry blood; I cry pain, through all life’s jeers.
Not because I care and not because I’m weak.
I cry blood tears because the hurt is beyond control.
This pain exceeds pain and surpasses hurt.
No I’m not sad, I don’t need to be consoled.
I’m beyond, far far beyond the worst.
Cry cry cry; untill I have no tears left.
Hurt hurt hurt; until I feel no pain.
The water dries, and blood sweats.
I have nothing to lose and nothing to gain.
Heart break, my heart has no ache.
Heart broken, my heart has not been broken.
Heart destroyed, no heart left to shake.
It cannot be repaired, no longer is it open.
As blood tears continue to leak.
I lose all life, all feelings, and all patience.
They see me, but they do not seek.
I’m dead, and that’s an understatement.
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 2:45 PM UTC
There's a girl from Loyang in the door across the street,
She looks fifteen, she may be a little older.
...While her master rides his rapid horse with jade bit an bridle,
Her handmaid brings her cod-fish in a golden plate.
On her painted pavilions, facing red towers,
Cornices are pink and green with peach-bloom and with willow,
Canopies of silk awn her seven-scented chair,
And rare fans shade her, home to her nine-flowered curtains.
Her lord, with rank and wealth and in the bud of life,
Exceeds in munificence the richest men of old.
He favours this girl of lowly birth, he has her taught to dance;
And he gives away his coral-trees to almost anyone.
The wind of dawn just stirs when his nine soft lights go out,
Those nine soft lights like petals in a flying chain of flowers.
Between dances she has barely time for singing over the songs;
No sooner is she dressed again than incense burns before her.
Those she knows in town are only the rich and the lavish,
And day and night she is visiting the hosts of the gayest mansions.
...Who notices the girl from Yue with a face of white jade,
Humble, poor, alone, by the river, washing silk?
2.6k
fueled by alcohol
swollen emotions,
the age of consent
and mistakenly stuck doors
the mutual understanding that comes with a singular passion
singular desire
just one time
but when the clock chimes
1:45
and curfewed kisses are few
you take my hands and sing
"i want to know you"
my fingers weave along my glowing screen
praying your given digits will be well received
and when my phone buzzes
i sigh
for i had tried to not let doubt cloud my mind
but i did not know you yet
and it rarely happens like this
when the clock chimes
6:00 Am
my rosy cheeks wait in the cold mist
a note on the table excusing my absence
a pale faced taxi driver goes through the required motions
to take me to your warm lips
with two hours of sleep
your makeshift bed is the port in a storm
and your slight frame is the sort that initially misleads
but it is powerful and exceeds expectations
the sweet sharing of bad puns
disney songs
and the unexpected "i love you"
the "you have beautiful eyes"
and the mess that is my hair do
i wake you with a warm hand to the hip
and a quick kiss on the lip
reassures me it was the right thing to do
the twang of ukulele
and its warm wood brush over my breast
its hard form against my warm chest
you sing for me
and the poetry that traverses your lips is magic
though slight
you have no trouble maneuvering through my wide rivers
and hidden valleys
my small forests
you flip me with ease
a playful tease
tracing racing and running
soon warm water runs over our shadowy forms
because though forever may be spent in bed
the real world obligates us to move
to shower
in our travels we find ourselves caught in drizzly public transportation
making our way to the place of your occupation
though we are eating for two
you order three breakfasts
making up for the meal missed
replaced with loving
surrounded by kissing
you drink coffee
a quick pick-me-up
i drink a london fog
to remind me of the sleepy morning
and a quick peck to the lips reminds me of the rest
a test of my willpower
my power to resist taking you then and there
though that may have resulted in your termination
so i resist my considered temptation
i take a slight deviation
for every story must end
every sentence
no matter how much love
we must wait for blood
because every hook up,
every sentence
must end with a period.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
Realizing that my pain
that resulted from past failures
was only temporary because
forgetting that past knowing
that foregiveness does not change
what happened
I am finally able
to move on as the other half
of my heart comes
home.
It does let me take
the first step torward
growth and creation as each time
that one loves is the only time
and a difference of object
does not alter singleness of passion
but merely intensifies it.
I knew that her love
was the other half of my heart
on the day that she came to me
and said that she loved me
and I could feel that love
when she talked to me hearing it
in her voice like a tone
that only I could hear.
Knowing that I have loved her
in numerous forms, numerous times,
life after life, age after age forever
our final journey now begins
as I dip my feather into the inkwell
of the sunset and write about her
sending my love to the
treasure of her heart of which
my heart is now
a part.
I can not take for granted
our future knowing that we have
the love of each other
and more importantly
we have ourselves as we touch
and our hearts became whole
once more and our love
continues to grow
and we both know that our love
for each other exceeds
the need for each other. Jon York 2013
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 2:20 AM UTC
Capitalism is fair.
Though capitalists be well bred.
The poor can only care
That they should sometimes be fed.
The rent they pay to capital
Exceeds the nation's rate of growth.
People are mere collateral
When fortunes begin to bloat.
The masses may start to shout.
Though the rich intend to die out,
Inheritances never croak.
Inequality learns to cope.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 6:37 AM UTC
crashing
when you're gone
i can't land alright
nothing holding me back
gravity pushes me in agreeance
good riddance
i was never apart of the blueprint
there wasn't a plan
space out and decide to implode
your immaturity exceeds normalcy
crushed
Jun 13, 2021
Jun 13, 2021 at 8:13 PM UTC
Bathed in sunshine,
thy tint,
so polychrome, so fragile,
rode on the wind.
No perpetual apex,
only the awing moment.
Holding just a slender assurance,
you explore the ends of heavens;
yet only a trace of lingering,
exceeds the lifetime liberties.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 3:08 PM UTC
Peace? and to all the world? sure, One
And He the Prince of Peace, hath none.
He travels to be born, and then
Is born to travel more again.
Poor Galilee! thou canst not be
The place for His nativity.
His restless mother’s called away,
And not delivered till she pay.
A tax? ’tis so still! we can see
The church thrive in her misery;
And like her Head at Bethlem, rise
When she, oppressed with troubles, lies.
Rise? should all fall, we cannot be
In more extremities than He.
Great Type of passions! come what will,
Thy grief exceeds all copies still.
Thou cam’st from heaven to earth, that we
Might go from earth to heaven with Thee.
And though Thou foundest no welcome here,
Thou didst provide us mansions there.
A stable was Thy court, and when
Men turned to beasts, beasts would be men.
They were Thy courtiers, others none;
And their poor manger was Thy throne.
No swaddling silks Thy limbs did fold,
Though Thou couldst turn Thy rays to gold.
No rockers waited on Thy birth,
No cradles stirred, nor songs of mirth;
But her chaste lap and sacred breast
Which lodged Thee first did give Thee rest.
But stay: what light is that doth stream,
And drop here in a gilded beam?
It is Thy star runs page, and brings
Thy tributary Eastern kings.
Lord! grant some light to us, that we
May with them find the way to Thee.
Behold what mists eclipse the day:
How dark it is! shed down one ray
To guide us out of this sad night,
And say once more, “Let there be light.”
2.2k
She was independence
An importance
Born
Mostly from the highland
Her climate exceeds on the equator
Beauty beyond the Amazon Basin
Which no one can resist
A woman whom I loved
In the tropical rain forrest
Arousing so abundantly
Her sources superlative
But largely unexploited
An ethnic mixture
The vitality of her arts
Owes so much
The Samba we showcase
Thriving with crafty influence
Her language craving
To charm my heart
As time expired
A woman with cultural succession
Leaving her
But feeling breathless
My lady Brasilia
As I depart
From the lovely beaches
Of Rio de Janeiro
Her remembrance
Carving our Samba love
Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 10:13 PM UTC
The girl with the emerald eyes
Is the girl who can see through your lies
She is the girl who can unmask your disguise
And show you what you have yet to realize
Layer by layer she will peel and peel
Her beauty exceeds past the realm of unreal
Shy but strong
the girl with the emerald eyes can see past your wrong
With vision so perfect she is never blinded by love
Her heart searches for the knight in shining armor sent from above
To sweep her up and carry her to a castle
Somewhere fancy where the demask curtains have gold tassels
I hope she sees what I hide to say with my general lies
Just be careful you don't get lost in her emerald eyes
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 3:02 AM UTC
At night I sit and ponder
It leaves my mind only to wander
I miss you, how I miss you so
I don’t know where you went
Or where you’ve roamed
These days just don’t seem as bright
Without you by my side
Deep down I’m crying, dying
I miss you oh how I miss that smile
Time and space exceeds this place
Bless your troubled soul
I’m with you wherever you go
If you’re out there
I hope you can hear me
As the day’s fade on
Don’t worry
I won’t forget our wrongs
I'll always remember our rights
I won’t forget those alcohol-induced nights
Forever I'll remember the laughs we shared
I miss you, oh how I miss you so
How I wish I could make things right
I’m so sorry about that night
You never even knew
What it is you had coming to you
Your heart slowly stopped
And so graciously you went
I think a part of me died
When you left us here that night
I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you
I’m so sorry I couldn’t fix your strife
The world was just too much
For you to face
Each and every day
Oh how I wish I could see you
Just one last time
Always at odds
You couldn't handle all your flaws
Can you hear me? can you hear my calls?
I wish you didn’t have to go
So many things you've missed
Numerous memories I'll never know
We didn't get to celebrate
I'm finally an adult
I can order a drink and toast my love to you
I just know you'll be so proud
When you see me in my cap and gown
Don't you worry dear
You have nothing to fear
I hope you see Jerry and Jim
Both smirking with a devious grin
I miss you, oh how I miss you so
I'll keep you locked within my heart
Until the day I part
In loving memory of my wonderful cousin Josh
© 2012 Christina Jackson
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 10:43 AM UTC