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These summer times are what I crave;
Under an open ceiling, a place we can rave.
Those clear skies gave way to stars,
Around a campfire we take back what's ours.
We're out of the way, you'll never find us,
Reclaiming our hearts and souls
in the abandonment that surrounds us.
Just another generation to discover the profoundness.

Wake 'n bake's good to awake
but we don't sleep for dawn's sake.
Soft words linger in the swaying leaves,
Reminiscent of Medina's calm breeze.

This otherworldly stage set a silent scene
as fresh air whispers incantations to my being:
Azure haze of summer vibrancy.
Some daze inspiration takes me.

Comforted by Aer's eloquence.
Sam Hawkins Nov 2017
There's been no end to my exhale;
flowering emptiness filling me, infinitely.

Subsurface tides of me rush recede and on my surfaces
waters winds in beautiful tandem leap.

With in-breath I am remembering my birth,
with out-breath I practice dying.

When I am silent to the very bone,
beyond myself, my edges blurred and free

what choruses now, what string, what flute notes drum
who is it who sings to and through me?

When life and love breathed exactly into this world,
and I became here, was someone beside me then?

What face was my face
before I was conceived?
Isla Jan 22
to hate is all we know
it is safety  
but what fool mistakes strangulation for affection.

although you have surrendered your icy grip on my heart
in the early hours
cold fingers still pry my eyes open
so you can seep into the edge of my vision

when i dream, you sleep beside me
when I breathe, you are in my lungs
a whisper
a steady rhythm
a constant reminder
to be burdened is all we know
it is safety
  
but despite that
i exhale
and i let you go
guess who's still surviving ****
Jarel Allen Nov 12
Listen to your inner demons who cry out wanting to become souls that you can’t grow away from, not for long, but in the moment  encapsulating your mind and joy outside of free will. the price to pay is a life where days spent are just added to the rest of the collection of baggage you carry on a daily and they don’t seem to pickup the trash anymore. Listen to your heart, learning you lessons of self taking the first step into intuitive inception. Is your life not one to fight for? We all coexist on this earth, yet you would be willing to give your last breath to breathe, did you not know it was one of the first gifts given to you? Innate as a function it is your body’s first choice to live and never was yours to give away like passing out flyers on a Saturday morning. Stop wasting time to celebrate in this race you were never behind in, for you are the only one in your lane and can fill these shoes to make it to the finish line. There is hope at the end of the tunnel, just remember that you are the light who’s lost it’s spark. It’s never too late pick up where you left and start again, laying down ground you never knew could exist. The pivot of a mind is literally ground breaking, quaking solid foundations to set your paths straight. Stop resting, for you can’t enjoy life unless you’re awake. This is knowledge to gain in order to change your ways, inviting you to a new beginning.
Thoughts at 3AM.
Luis Valencia Feb 21
magnified
the power of love is magnified by those who receive it
yet some souls that I've talked to have been deprived of this love
each breath they take involves a wheeze
they cry and ponder life and wonder
if there is more than this empty feeling
the feeling of sinking and going under
holding their breath hoping for relief
wishing for the privilege that other people have
the privilege to exhale
without feeling every emotion spring up
without shaking and crying on the floor
without wishing for a way out
in life there are two kinds of people
those who can't exhale
and those who can
I wish we could exhale
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2014
Everything in quotations marks and italics was written by TS Eliot.

eyes knowing glossy men,
sheer women, creatures,
not all artists, but artists,
always thus,
centrifugal, simple

from their core,
emanate, resonate,
expand the exterior
with interior precision sculpting

to the interior delve,
via brush or limb,
pen or music,
the exposition, the exploration,
the reconstruction of composing
one's self, creation and destruction
of your own myths

movement of arms and legs,
sparseness of simplicity
subsidiaries of centricity,
tributaries of complexity,
oriented to their locality

the simple purpose of inhalation,
to exhale, after transformation,
the calculus of thought into emotion:

"the tongues of flame are in-folded
into the crowned knot of fire and
the fire and rose are one"


the dancers hear the music:

"so deeply that it is not heard at all,
but you are the music
while the music lasts."


**”Quick now, here, now always –
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well"
"Immature poets borrow, mature poets steal." T.S. Eliot (1888 - 1965)

Inspired this evening by the Martha Graham Company, the words and wisdom of TS Eliot, from whom she took inspiration in her choreography of modern dance
Pat Broadbent Oct 2018
Planes streak across the wide October sky–
The sun is setting–
Contrails stream behind them,
glowing scars of the evening.

The highest ones, they exhale the day’s gold,
pure and sharp
like fields of August wheat,
dusty and late-summer charred.

Redder and lower ones hug the skyline,
No cloud to catch them,
Fall like meteorites,
the slow burn of a dwarf star

Memories never print so vividly,
slow burn sees fast death,
Reds, golds and what's between,
A brain is all catch-and-release


So afterwards what should be left of this?
Not but an umbra,
Impressionist beauty,

A mere relief of its source?


Beauty’s slow fade is not the tragedy,
–rather the reverse–
That we fade to beauty,
To never hold it in full.
Beauty and whatnot
Pyrrha Jul 2018
Out of all these poems I've written of love and longing,
Out of all these years searching in the sea of people,
I still yet to understand how it's possible to have words without a muse

I often wonder what it would be like to have a muse without words
I believe it would feel suffocating
As you choke on all the words you long to exhale within your next breath
For a poet to be trapped by words is to be trapped by passion

Sometimes my heart swells up so big it walks across a sea of words and sinks into the deepness of the waters
Lost among the clearer beats on land
An abnormality pushed away from love like an ancient curse buried in my skin
One day i'll make it learn to swim rather than let it sink and bathe in sin

The question still remains
Would it be better to have a muse and feel like drowning,
Or to have the the words to accompany the lonely?
gracie Apr 2018
I see paradise
in his eyes

I see rainy day car rides
singing along to George Ezra
his voice sweet, low
dripping from his lips
like honey off a spoon

I see blanket forts
drifting asleep like a child
his chest safe, soft
rhythmically rising and falling
with every blue exhale

I see sunshine
loving in the morning
his kisses deep, warm
tousled hair upon the pillow
like a sleepy golden storm

but I see bitter tears
crying alone in the bathroom
my breath cold, hollow
aching in my throat
because he only loved my silhouette.
Aj Jan 2018
you are words.

you are crashing syllables that drip off of wilting rose petals and each letter is a star. you make up constellations while foreign galaxies drip from your lips. nebulae dance across your angel-shedded skin and particles of the sun hide under the freckles resting on your shoulders.

you are life.

the wonders of the cosmos that swirl in the pit of your lean and golden tummy, finding solace in the way you breathe in and exhale the energy of the universe that you created in the beating passage of my worn-out soul.

you are the universe's child.

and the stars that accumulate under your skin will explode. i'll inhale the stardust and debris, letting the particles of life that you emit pollute my bloodstream.
constellations dedicated to a lover who lost his way.
Jazmine Jul 2018
Inhale

I hear your breath in my ear

Exhale

I feel your lips in between my thighs

Heart beat

I hear you whisper in my ear

I close my eyes

I see your bliss when you're inside of me

I open my eyes

Back arched legs quiver, I release all my pressure

Touching my breast

I feel you pressed against me, in and out your essence fills me


Tossing in my dark room

I’m looking down on you as my hips move against you like waves on a shore

Wanting you

****** energy so strong, I fall in love the moment you touch me

Kiss me

So I can feel a connection that is otherwise lost when our clothes come back on
L B Nov 2017
Did I touch you as I left?
That night of beer and music
Almost tipsy,
laughing good-byes

Backing into blindly
I felt an arm... a moment
guide me
before I all but fall
against you
Knew that warmth
of mass was male

You exhale
I sense your being--
behind
Amused
By accidental intimacy
I come unglued
By your flirtatious
catch of eyes
in lowered light
By faint fragrance
of whatever it is
you've drunk or used
to put yourself together

Turning
guarded
Apologize
glancing down


Women always look, though
however briefly
Anyone ever been to this pub?  :D
Esther Sep 2018
inhale

be aware
of what is on your mind
all the worries
all the hate
know them
feel them
steering every movement
spinning your thoughts
into oblivion
so that you can't remember
the you you once were
now stop

exhale
abecedarian Sep 2017
he said/begged,
make love to me just like a woman!

kiss me toe to head, linger on my neck,
trace my waist, begin at my lips, pause at my hips,
quibbles intersperse, quips and licks on eyelids,
nibble me, near me, close and closer yet
unto the glorious victorious near death experience...

whisper me sweet everythings
before during after and over again,
when you must pause to exhale, blow all their warmth
upon thy fingers and bring that warmth inside

Columbus
me with tongue and eyes,
take me slow then again,
even slower, for thy pleasure,
than execute summary judgement upon me

falsely accept, then deny, deny, deny
my every appeal to
oh my god
for anyone's mercy!

adjudge me then guilty yet again,
and to the tower take me
to drown in mine own lashing lamentations,
thy incontrovertible evidence,
mine own uncensored revelations
execute me twice,
slowly, goodly with lengthy and lovely measures


she said,  and so I shall, eventually,
do what you beseech, what you most excellently seek

but you may recall, somewhat earlier, I called out
shotgun
so you must start my dear by following
all the precise driving instructions you just stated,
and bring your GPS^, and, oh yes,
I'm waiting...


too wit and sod this!
he gruffingly huffingly, hurrumphingly, replied,
all hell and damnation,
treat me like a woman just once pity-please!"

can't can't can't -
she be-witchingly cackled!

then sang to me the lyrical words of a
Nobel Prize winner!

"
You fake just like a woman
Yes you do, you make love like a woman
Yes you do, and then you ache just like a woman
But you break just like a little boy
"
^GPS is a permanently attached male guidance system.
The P does nots stand for Positioning.
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