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"exhilarating" poems
They drove me across the country, from the busy city where we departed to intimate villages where they recessed, and spent a star filled, moonlit night singing songs, their bodies casting long, wavy shadows from campfires they huddled around. Just as I got too cold and my wheels couldn't turn anymore did they finally turn the spark plugs, revving and igniting my despair and sensitivity producing heat. Sometimes they pushed until I shoved and scraped my rubber on asphalt, on rocks, on sand, on boulders big and small, and I hit a flat-line; the air I could hold in no longer. They rode me into a forest whose undergrowth was as thick as a bears' fur during the winter, and redwood that spanned the horizon you thought it could pat the constellations. A forest teeming with life that one would react like Wendy from Peter Pan-- never wanting to leave Neverland. And I could see it in their soft faces and squinting eyes, bright and lit up with joy, every detail apparent as if I burst my headlights into high-beam, directly on them. It was there I ran out of gas and my engines parched for oil, from the endless adventure that was exhilarating and memorable. One could, as a result, easily forget responsibilities. There was no service or refill station nearby, so I was abandoned where I parked, flat tires, rusty hood, broken chassis, dilapidated suspension. I've proved my worth from when I was brought in and over time it wasn't enough. Only repairing, never maintaining.
0
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
xxxxx3
The Walking Engine
They drove me across the country, from the busy city where we departed to intimate villages where they recessed, and spent a star filled, moonlit night singing songs, their bodies casting long, wavy shadows from campfires they huddled around. Just as I got too cold and my wheels couldn't turn anymore did they finally turn the spark plugs, revving and igniting my despair and sensitivity producing heat. Sometimes they pushed until I shoved and scraped my rubber on asphalt, on rocks, on sand, on boulders big and small, and I hit a flat-line; the air I could hold in no longer. They rode me into a forest whose undergrowth was as thick as a bears' fur during the winter, and redwood that spanned the horizon you thought it could pat the constellations. A forest teeming with life that one would react like Wendy from Peter Pan-- never wanting to leave Neverland. And I could see it in their soft faces and squinting eyes, bright and lit up with joy, every detail apparent as if I burst my headlights into high-beam, directly on them. It was there I ran out of gas and my engines parched for oil, from the endless adventure that was exhilarating and memorable. One could, as a result, easily forget responsibilities. There was no service or refill station nearby, so I was abandoned where I parked, flat tires, rusty hood, broken chassis, dilapidated suspension. I've proved my worth from when I was brought in and over time it wasn't enough. Only repairing, never maintaining.
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52
I still remember you I lost you because non-commitment was all I could give. Now I wake with my sheets soaked with the residue from my nightmares, suffocating me. I long for those days when the sun was setting and hand in hand we'd sit, in silence. You'd pull me closer to share your excitement with me; grab a fist full of my hair to allow you to enter into matrimony with my lips. I long to have your presence next to me; to see the rise and fall of your chest reminding me that that is where my home is. To have you wake me in the morning with your arms protectively caressing  me, rhythmically and suggestively moving along my body... To have you send shivers down my spine with your hot breath as I feel you smile into my neck I remember your lips became the metaphor for our young hasty affair: your lips often grazing every crevice on my body, arousing feelings in me I never thought existed and exciting this dormant precious place between my thighs. My thighs, which are now the empty hallways you used to roam with so much passion and ferocity used to release waterfalls that cascaded down in a pleasurable release, long for one more body trembling exhilarating encounter. But most of all I long to be loved again.
0
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
Heartbeat_M
I still long for you
I still remember you I lost you because non-commitment was all I could give. Now I wake with my sheets soaked with the residue from my nightmares, suffocating me. I long for those days when the sun was setting and hand in hand we'd sit, in silence. You'd pull me closer to share your excitement with me; grab a fist full of my hair to allow you to enter into matrimony with my lips. I long to have your presence next to me; to see the rise and fall of your chest reminding me that that is where my home is. To have you wake me in the morning with your arms protectively caressing  me, rhythmically and suggestively moving along my body... To have you send shivers down my spine with your hot breath as I feel you smile into my neck I remember your lips became the metaphor for our young hasty affair: your lips often grazing every crevice on my body, arousing feelings in me I never thought existed and exciting this dormant precious place between my thighs. My thighs, which are now the empty hallways you used to roam with so much passion and ferocity used to release waterfalls that cascaded down in a pleasurable release, long for one more body trembling exhilarating encounter. But most of all I long to be loved again.
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13
The mountain lies in front of us; Beauitful and breathtaking, I was hot, but i did not fuss, And i was looking forward of when we would swim in the lake. We start the climb, I see a water bottle stand, That costs a dime. i go off the track to get the water, then i sit on the dry land. We continue up the rocky trail. I am more tired then ever, so my legs start to fail. But i will never stop, never; As the view is exhilarating. I see my town from far away, So breathtaking. I then see a flock of blue jays. After the hike, my desire for a nap is deep. I sludge to my room. I start to sleep. as i nap, the experience of hiking looms.
0
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
NutellaRox
Hiking
The mountain lies in front of us; Beauitful and breathtaking, I was hot, but i did not fuss, And i was looking forward of when we would swim in the lake. We start the climb, I see a water bottle stand, That costs a dime. i go off the track to get the water, then i sit on the dry land. We continue up the rocky trail. I am more tired then ever, so my legs start to fail. But i will never stop, never; As the view is exhilarating. I see my town from far away, So breathtaking. I then see a flock of blue jays. After the hike, my desire for a nap is deep. I sludge to my room. I start to sleep. as i nap, the experience of hiking looms.
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20
I thought that saying goodbye, would be the hardest thing to say to you. And in a way it was, but in another it wasn't. It felt sad; it felt exhilarating. I thought that love, all kinds, meant giving you're all to someone. But it doesn't, it means something more. It means that you give them a piece of yourself for them to cherish, and they do the same. But you can't give something away, that doesn't exist. I didn't understand at first, but now I do. I never loved myself, I loved you. I used to feel I would die with joy from being around you. *And then I woke up one morning, and I realized that I did die.* That the every miniscule piece of who I was, had ceased to exist. I realized that I was empty, and always had been. *So instead of killing myself for your love, I lived for my own.* And now I drive around, listening to Tom Petty, wearing red lipstick; lips wrapped around the back half of a cigarette.. And I am so happy. I feel free. I feel like I can conquer anything, because I escaped a painful death; a death by you. But then it was time to say "Hello again.." and it was harder than goodbye. It brang back the memories of sadness. Of lonliness. Of being afraid. Then the moment passed... And I still feel free.
0
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
two-parts-of-a-broken-heart
Hello Again.
I thought that saying goodbye, would be the hardest thing to say to you. And in a way it was, but in another it wasn't. It felt sad; it felt exhilarating. I thought that love, all kinds, meant giving you're all to someone. But it doesn't, it means something more. It means that you give them a piece of yourself for them to cherish, and they do the same. But you can't give something away, that doesn't exist. I didn't understand at first, but now I do. I never loved myself, I loved you. I used to feel I would die with joy from being around you. *And then I woke up one morning, and I realized that I did die.* That the every miniscule piece of who I was, had ceased to exist. I realized that I was empty, and always had been. *So instead of killing myself for your love, I lived for my own.* And now I drive around, listening to Tom Petty, wearing red lipstick; lips wrapped around the back half of a cigarette.. And I am so happy. I feel free. I feel like I can conquer anything, because I escaped a painful death; a death by you. But then it was time to say "Hello again.." and it was harder than goodbye. It brang back the memories of sadness. Of lonliness. Of being afraid. Then the moment passed... And I still feel free.
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43
As Stong as the An African Elephant Yet were are supple and elegant. We are persuasive talkers so our words are very Eloquent. Crafted From man's rib and An earthly element is How God made the first Wombman in the old testiment. During the worlds development We somehow begun to be irrelevant Forgetting that we were designed as a help mate who is heaven sent. We shed Bloods for days sometimes a months without dying. Raising our children to Be Ladies and gentlemen whom are edifying. In our wombs a human life we are able carry. We are informational like a human dictionary. We store resoureful pieces of data like a library. Created with brown sugar, warm honey, cocoa and Gold. Out spirits are Radiently Bold. Our bodies are temples that can't be bought or sold. We have a Story that must be hear and told. We are the beautiful flowers in the month of May That Springs up and blooms in middle of noons day. We flourish just as the fluorescent blue jay, Whose mood is Joyful and gay. Our Skin absorbs the sun's Incandescent. Ray. Some may say, Our hair is ***** but Actually, Our hair just happens to defy gravity So we wear it upon our head proudly like a Crown because Living in socitey's prospective of what you should look like will weigh you down. You will stay stuck on being lost when you already have been found. Be about your fathers business and know you are Heaven bound. We are run life's race with meaning and purpose in our pace Even our walk is embedded with grace Nature's beauty smiles upon our face As We Wear God's love like a Pure Gold necklace that's trimmed with lace. The Strength we've gain Turned us into warriors from living the through the most Excruciating pain Thats the Reason we humbly pray as we sing and dance in the middle of the storm's rain. Our humility will continue to remain. We are women of Virtue I wrote this to encourage you Never let no one break, hurt or discourage you know who you belong to. And who deserves a Woman of your statue. For Being black Is Exhilarating And being a woman is Breathtaking but Being a Black Woman is an Honorary Identity that is Legendary.
0
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
tashea-young
Dear Black Woman
As Stong as the An African Elephant Yet were are supple and elegant. We are persuasive talkers so our words are very Eloquent. Crafted From man's rib and An earthly element is How God made the first Wombman in the old testiment. During the worlds development We somehow begun to be irrelevant Forgetting that we were designed as a help mate who is heaven sent. We shed Bloods for days sometimes a months without dying. Raising our children to Be Ladies and gentlemen whom are edifying. In our wombs a human life we are able carry. We are informational like a human dictionary. We store resoureful pieces of data like a library. Created with brown sugar, warm honey, cocoa and Gold. Out spirits are Radiently Bold. Our bodies are temples that can't be bought or sold. We have a Story that must be hear and told. We are the beautiful flowers in the month of May That Springs up and blooms in middle of noons day. We flourish just as the fluorescent blue jay, Whose mood is Joyful and gay. Our Skin absorbs the sun's Incandescent. Ray. Some may say, Our hair is ***** but Actually, Our hair just happens to defy gravity So we wear it upon our head proudly like a Crown because Living in socitey's prospective of what you should look like will weigh you down. You will stay stuck on being lost when you already have been found. Be about your fathers business and know you are Heaven bound. We are run life's race with meaning and purpose in our pace Even our walk is embedded with grace Nature's beauty smiles upon our face As We Wear God's love like a Pure Gold necklace that's trimmed with lace. The Strength we've gain Turned us into warriors from living the through the most Excruciating pain Thats the Reason we humbly pray as we sing and dance in the middle of the storm's rain. Our humility will continue to remain. We are women of Virtue I wrote this to encourage you Never let no one break, hurt or discourage you know who you belong to. And who deserves a Woman of your statue. For Being black Is Exhilarating And being a woman is Breathtaking but Being a Black Woman is an Honorary Identity that is Legendary.
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38
A new start, something fresh. Friends look at you with wide eyes erasing all the previous times you had met with this new time, all from something simple. Something fresh. A haircut. Although going from long flowing wavy strawberry blond hair to dark pixie short brunette colored hair is quite the difference... but it's something fresh. Something new. Something great. Exhilarating. Exciting. Wonderful.
0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
violdegamboys
Haircut
A new start, something fresh. Friends look at you with wide eyes erasing all the previous times you had met with this new time, all from something simple. Something fresh. A haircut. Although going from long flowing wavy strawberry blond hair to dark pixie short brunette colored hair is quite the difference... but it's something fresh. Something new. Something great. Exhilarating. Exciting. Wonderful.
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22
Physics:                                                               Love:         It's not the fall that kills                          It's not falling in love that kills              The fall is actually                                          The fall is actually                  exhilarating                                                         thrilling                  invigorating                                                      intoxicating                    breathtaking                                                       vitalizing          it's when you've finally                                    it's when you've finally                hit the ground                                                  reached the end                 that kills you                                                     that kills you.
0
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 7:11 AM UTC
winter-silk
Physics, Love
Physics:                                                               Love:         It's not the fall that kills                          It's not falling in love that kills              The fall is actually                                          The fall is actually                  exhilarating                                                         thrilling                  invigorating                                                      intoxicating                    breathtaking                                                       vitalizing          it's when you've finally                                    it's when you've finally                hit the ground                                                  reached the end                 that kills you                                                     that kills you.
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9
up in the high country the wild horses run free they've done so for nigh on a century not a saddle upon their backs enabling them to gallop unchecked around its tract in the Guy Fawkes National park there is a harass of them trotting through its blue hued wends their days are numbered in the park park authorities want end to their spirited lark up in the high country the wild horses run free they've done so for nigh on a century not a saddle upon their backs enabling them to gallop unchecked around its tract to sight the wild horses in full cantering step is exhilarating and fills one's heart with miles of pep their hooves thundering and pelting along to the wind's strong liberating throng up in the high country the wild horses run free they've done so for nigh on a century not a saddle upon their backs enabling them to gallop unchecked around its tract down the steep ravines and o'er the hills they stride without the reins of a man holding their ranging pride the wild horses have need of open lands to caper and pace they are a breed which must be allowed to freely race up in the high country the wild horses run free they've done so for nigh on a century not a saddle upon their backs enabling them to gallop unchecked around its tract
0
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 9:10 PM UTC
ElizabethSquires
Wild Horses (Ballad Poem)
up in the high country the wild horses run free they've done so for nigh on a century not a saddle upon their backs enabling them to gallop unchecked around its tract in the Guy Fawkes National park there is a harass of them trotting through its blue hued wends their days are numbered in the park park authorities want end to their spirited lark up in the high country the wild horses run free they've done so for nigh on a century not a saddle upon their backs enabling them to gallop unchecked around its tract to sight the wild horses in full cantering step is exhilarating and fills one's heart with miles of pep their hooves thundering and pelting along to the wind's strong liberating throng up in the high country the wild horses run free they've done so for nigh on a century not a saddle upon their backs enabling them to gallop unchecked around its tract down the steep ravines and o'er the hills they stride without the reins of a man holding their ranging pride the wild horses have need of open lands to caper and pace they are a breed which must be allowed to freely race up in the high country the wild horses run free they've done so for nigh on a century not a saddle upon their backs enabling them to gallop unchecked around its tract
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28
Her body’s indications are indicating what she's anticipating. Something exhilarating and stimulating \ventilating.
0
Nov 11, 2023
Nov 11, 2023 at 10:43 PM UTC
Styles
Ventilating
Her body’s indications are indicating what she's anticipating. Something exhilarating and stimulating \ventilating.
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3
for what feels like   the first time (in a long time) i’ve met someone and   everything’s exciting it’s thrilling exhilarating       to just         be myself           around him and i want to do nice things for him i want to take off his shoes make him tea i want to draw ****** drawings of him with sharpies on napkins at parties and i long to bring him home go on long walks alone with him i wish to write songs in his name give him my earphones (when his break) and we’re an unlikely pair              and there’s                     something                         so infectious                                about that
0
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 9:05 AM UTC
pips
newness
for what feels like   the first time (in a long time) i’ve met someone and   everything’s exciting it’s thrilling exhilarating       to just         be myself           around him and i want to do nice things for him i want to take off his shoes make him tea i want to draw ****** drawings of him with sharpies on napkins at parties and i long to bring him home go on long walks alone with him i wish to write songs in his name give him my earphones (when his break) and we’re an unlikely pair              and there’s                     something                         so infectious                                about that
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32
*Your love is like skydiving,    an unnerving thought, breathless & intoxicating   elevations beyond exhilarating,   as it transforms life's panorama     nothing seemed ever the same,          after the thrill of the fall*
0
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
poetessa-diabolical
Love like skydiving
*Your love is like skydiving,    an unnerving thought, breathless & intoxicating   elevations beyond exhilarating,   as it transforms life's panorama     nothing seemed ever the same,          after the thrill of the fall*
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7
Death you are seen so repugnant. Death you are sensed so vile. Death you are deemed so untimely. “Death can’t you wait for a while?” But Death, aren’t you Life’s true redeemer? Making everyone think well of the dead. Death aren’t you Life’s other half? Death don’t you tuck us to bed? When our wanderlust has faded, your embrace remains unjaded. Death you are humble in your infamy; Life the glory claims. Yet sickness, accidents and war are all Life’s macabre games. That which kills you comes from Life. Life will push to make that sale; living organs mere currency. Cannibalistic Life - advertising as a fairy tale. Death you are left to clear the carnage. Death – the coloseum’s sand – innocently soaked in the blood of Life’s cruel hand. Death you are Life’s psychologist; motivating each step, each trial. Making us get up every morning to make each moment worthwhile. Death you employ Time’s creation to set a deadline to Life. Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring Death you are a scalpel; Life a butcher’s knife. Famine, plague, disease, beast, Without glorious survival, why feast? Death your work with Time is inspired, for we created it to understand your course. With Time we can learn Life’s seasons and record it’s length before it’s divorce from our fragile clay. Death you make us frugal with our Time, yet generous with our Love. For to each heartbeat’s rhythm and rhyme, we fervently dance to give. To make another grief-stricken Death. For if Life is filled with meaning, it is Death’s boon to us all. Life becomes exhilarating – A race before the fall! Death remains a wallflower to the very close. Death only wants to meet us; a gentle lover with a rose. Encouraging, yet terrifying. But if we fear the Darkness, it is Life we fear not Death. How often has a blinding Light been reported on a final breath?
0
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
stevie-crystal-biffen
An Ode to Death
Death you are seen so repugnant. Death you are sensed so vile. Death you are deemed so untimely. “Death can’t you wait for a while?” But Death, aren’t you Life’s true redeemer? Making everyone think well of the dead. Death aren’t you Life’s other half? Death don’t you tuck us to bed? When our wanderlust has faded, your embrace remains unjaded. Death you are humble in your infamy; Life the glory claims. Yet sickness, accidents and war are all Life’s macabre games. That which kills you comes from Life. Life will push to make that sale; living organs mere currency. Cannibalistic Life - advertising as a fairy tale. Death you are left to clear the carnage. Death – the coloseum’s sand – innocently soaked in the blood of Life’s cruel hand. Death you are Life’s psychologist; motivating each step, each trial. Making us get up every morning to make each moment worthwhile. Death you employ Time’s creation to set a deadline to Life. Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring Death you are a scalpel; Life a butcher’s knife. Famine, plague, disease, beast, Without glorious survival, why feast? Death your work with Time is inspired, for we created it to understand your course. With Time we can learn Life’s seasons and record it’s length before it’s divorce from our fragile clay. Death you make us frugal with our Time, yet generous with our Love. For to each heartbeat’s rhythm and rhyme, we fervently dance to give. To make another grief-stricken Death. For if Life is filled with meaning, it is Death’s boon to us all. Life becomes exhilarating – A race before the fall! Death remains a wallflower to the very close. Death only wants to meet us; a gentle lover with a rose. Encouraging, yet terrifying. But if we fear the Darkness, it is Life we fear not Death. How often has a blinding Light been reported on a final breath?
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51
And let it flow as the current streams from your lips as your words paint the magnificent your words branch into the images I see The images I see infect my dreams lingering into daydreams of places I wish to see mountain top huts to drink tea because the passion I feel to see and be stems from the singular thought that poured into a picture and when I reached to grasp I needed to be part of my steady wanderous day dream Like an addict I feign for the sights I haven't yet seen flowing heavily like the spring stream exhilarating the sense of exploration
0
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
meagan-castro
Stream of wanderlust daydreams
And let it flow as the current streams from your lips as your words paint the magnificent your words branch into the images I see The images I see infect my dreams lingering into daydreams of places I wish to see mountain top huts to drink tea because the passion I feel to see and be stems from the singular thought that poured into a picture and when I reached to grasp I needed to be part of my steady wanderous day dream Like an addict I feign for the sights I haven't yet seen flowing heavily like the spring stream exhilarating the sense of exploration
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15
Sailing through sheer jagged thoughts and cool running dreams The merciless curse of emotion overflowing the exhilarating streams Witnessing the chaotic times of the dark and ancient old when the mystifying warriors heart was branded honorable and bold ever drifting ever more in this sea without a shore through this land of legends and lore ever drifting evermore Floating ever aimlessly through translucent waters seeing the weak of mind from this plane exiling their sons and daughters While beasts of burden trudge from within the midsts of juxtaposing viking ships ships of war and plague and death that obliviously vanish within a breath ever drifting evermore in this sea without a shore through this land of legends and lore ever drifting evermore Sailing after those laden beasts that which so arrogantly stray you see those morbid souls of life so ominisqueskly carried away To the ***** delight and warmth of the strong and merciful earth Away from this unknown land Of legends miraculous birth ever drifting evermore in this sea without a shore Through this land of legends and lore ever drifting evermore © Crystal Erickson 1999
0
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 6:24 PM UTC
Cadmiumdreams
Land of Legends
Sailing through sheer jagged thoughts and cool running dreams The merciless curse of emotion overflowing the exhilarating streams Witnessing the chaotic times of the dark and ancient old when the mystifying warriors heart was branded honorable and bold ever drifting ever more in this sea without a shore through this land of legends and lore ever drifting evermore Floating ever aimlessly through translucent waters seeing the weak of mind from this plane exiling their sons and daughters While beasts of burden trudge from within the midsts of juxtaposing viking ships ships of war and plague and death that obliviously vanish within a breath ever drifting evermore in this sea without a shore through this land of legends and lore ever drifting evermore Sailing after those laden beasts that which so arrogantly stray you see those morbid souls of life so ominisqueskly carried away To the ***** delight and warmth of the strong and merciful earth Away from this unknown land Of legends miraculous birth ever drifting evermore in this sea without a shore Through this land of legends and lore ever drifting evermore © Crystal Erickson 1999
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37
Cricket is the only game which lures me so much; And then engrosses me so much. That craze would never drive out of me… My inspiration was ‘Yuvraj Singh’, Only then I arose to identify that King. Once Yuvi’s record of six sixes in six ***** The firmament was incredible for certain minutes: That was the first time I witnessed cricket, And India’s triumph provided me a mind-blowing buzz to watch cricket, Nevertheless continuing with ***** and wickets. I would turn crazy when Indian cricketers approach the ground, And that would certainly not halt lest they are made proud. This T20 shadowed by IPL, Made me to by stand that awe-inspiring sport. Chennai Super Kings-my favorite, Followed by Royal Challenges Bangalore … And lots more hilarious teams and cricketers. When Chris Gayle approaches… Tsunami warning must be lifted and “Gayle” (gale) warning must be given! That’s how cricket relocates… Most matches concluding in the closing over And some others in the finishing ball… The most exhilarating sport Read more →and the format- IPL is all fun for me… With cheer leaders and the draped studio; With cameras and videos And at last the much awaited IPL trophy- Cricket is all that it needs!!!
0
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
AbiramiArunachalam
T20 Too IPL
Cricket is the only game which lures me so much; And then engrosses me so much. That craze would never drive out of me… My inspiration was ‘Yuvraj Singh’, Only then I arose to identify that King. Once Yuvi’s record of six sixes in six ***** The firmament was incredible for certain minutes: That was the first time I witnessed cricket, And India’s triumph provided me a mind-blowing buzz to watch cricket, Nevertheless continuing with ***** and wickets. I would turn crazy when Indian cricketers approach the ground, And that would certainly not halt lest they are made proud. This T20 shadowed by IPL, Made me to by stand that awe-inspiring sport. Chennai Super Kings-my favorite, Followed by Royal Challenges Bangalore … And lots more hilarious teams and cricketers. When Chris Gayle approaches… Tsunami warning must be lifted and “Gayle” (gale) warning must be given! That’s how cricket relocates… Most matches concluding in the closing over And some others in the finishing ball… The most exhilarating sport Read more →and the format- IPL is all fun for me… With cheer leaders and the draped studio; With cameras and videos And at last the much awaited IPL trophy- Cricket is all that it needs!!!
Continue reading...
29
I prefer her Over the bucket list Her soft sweet voice Over the deafening roar The warmth of her unexpected touch To the sting of the frigid wind Hours waiting Over the free-fall The view into her blue eyes Better than all of God’s green Earth The relationship Dwarfs the experience Her smile followed by the laugh To the cackle of the fat man on my back Resting in peace facing the sun Instead of flying alone into the ground Sharing a drink full of germs To scraping the dirt when I land She is exhilarating But more trustworthy than the fabric and strings I prefer her
0
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
joshua-kirby
Skydiving
I prefer her Over the bucket list Her soft sweet voice Over the deafening roar The warmth of her unexpected touch To the sting of the frigid wind Hours waiting Over the free-fall The view into her blue eyes Better than all of God’s green Earth The relationship Dwarfs the experience Her smile followed by the laugh To the cackle of the fat man on my back Resting in peace facing the sun Instead of flying alone into the ground Sharing a drink full of germs To scraping the dirt when I land She is exhilarating But more trustworthy than the fabric and strings I prefer her
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21
Oh, how disgusting. All this disguising... To become somebody that’s worth existing. Oh, it's repulsing. Fully engulfing... Every truth, that ever found itself hiding. So join me... Hey let's play a lying game! And ***** ourselves, with something exciting! Deceiving, and heartless thieving... After all life is so dull without some bleeding. Such is life for a boring... Existence... Cause I’m a... Liar, liar! And only that is true! After all fire, fire... Is something I pursue! Just call out liar, liar! And I’ll infect you too... With the addictive taboo... Of bidding the truth adieu. Trust me! That’s a lie, such a lie, for a lie! You see, I can’t pry my own dyed scheming eyes. So please, forgive my falsified truthful lies. ...Truly... Lying! ‘Cause I’m a liar. Oh, how appalling. The lies are crawling... And covering every single little bit. Oh, how revolting. And full of loathing. It’s nauseating! Exhilarating, Isn’t it? Manipulating. Hardly pulsating... A heart like that, is the only one that’s free. Without emotion, Without devotion... It’s much easier to fake something happy. Much easier to fake yourself being happy... So, join me! Hey, let's play a lying game! And cover ourselves, with something inviting! Rewriting, and truly lying... Finally a story that wasn’t meant to end with painful feelings! Put on the masks, and let's have us a masquerade! Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed! A smiling, and crying, and lying charade... Such is life for a boring... Existence. 'Cause I’m a liar, liar, And only that is true! After all fire, fire, Is something I pursue! Just call out liar, liar! And I’ll infect you too... With the addictive taboo... Of bidding the truth adieu. 'Cause I’m a liar. Peek-a-peek-a-boo! Ha, ha, I found you! Hiding from the truth... Well it’s nothing new. Peek-a-peek-a-boo! I can see right through! Liars know liars... Like you know the back of your own hand. It’s bland. Such an existence... Where everything goes as planned. Wasteland... Is much more fun to navigate and understand. That’s why... I left it behind, my world is covered in lies. That’s why... It seems there’s no longer blue in my sky... So... Put on the masks, and let's have us one last masquerade! Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed! A smiling, and crying, and lying charade! Such is life for the boring existence... Of a liar. Am I a... liar? Liar? Does it seem that way to you? After all fire, fire... Is burning through the roof... 'Cause you’re all... liars, liars! And I don’t know what’s true! After all fire, fire... Has ravaged all I knew... I call out liar, liar! I cannot trust you! But the world has gone askew... And there’s nothing else to do... Except bid the truth adieu... Leave this, leave it behind, hide it in the back of your head! I’ve given up on all I knew, There is nothing, that is truly true. I’ve given up on all I knew, Because after they betrayed me, they’ve gone askew. I’ve given up on all I knew, Because life, people are so boring and dull, There is nothing for me here. I don’t see a point in living... That’s a lie..? Trust me! What’s a lie? Is it lies? Only lies! I can’t pry my blind eyes, while I cry... Please, forgive my blackened sky full of lies! Truly... Lying! Truly... Dying...
0
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:28 AM UTC
NateMate
Help me.
Oh, how disgusting. All this disguising... To become somebody that’s worth existing. Oh, it's repulsing. Fully engulfing... Every truth, that ever found itself hiding. So join me... Hey let's play a lying game! And ***** ourselves, with something exciting! Deceiving, and heartless thieving... After all life is so dull without some bleeding. Such is life for a boring... Existence... Cause I’m a... Liar, liar! And only that is true! After all fire, fire... Is something I pursue! Just call out liar, liar! And I’ll infect you too... With the addictive taboo... Of bidding the truth adieu. Trust me! That’s a lie, such a lie, for a lie! You see, I can’t pry my own dyed scheming eyes. So please, forgive my falsified truthful lies. ...Truly... Lying! ‘Cause I’m a liar. Oh, how appalling. The lies are crawling... And covering every single little bit. Oh, how revolting. And full of loathing. It’s nauseating! Exhilarating, Isn’t it? Manipulating. Hardly pulsating... A heart like that, is the only one that’s free. Without emotion, Without devotion... It’s much easier to fake something happy. Much easier to fake yourself being happy... So, join me! Hey, let's play a lying game! And cover ourselves, with something inviting! Rewriting, and truly lying... Finally a story that wasn’t meant to end with painful feelings! Put on the masks, and let's have us a masquerade! Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed! A smiling, and crying, and lying charade... Such is life for a boring... Existence. 'Cause I’m a liar, liar, And only that is true! After all fire, fire, Is something I pursue! Just call out liar, liar! And I’ll infect you too... With the addictive taboo... Of bidding the truth adieu. 'Cause I’m a liar. Peek-a-peek-a-boo! Ha, ha, I found you! Hiding from the truth... Well it’s nothing new. Peek-a-peek-a-boo! I can see right through! Liars know liars... Like you know the back of your own hand. It’s bland. Such an existence... Where everything goes as planned. Wasteland... Is much more fun to navigate and understand. That’s why... I left it behind, my world is covered in lies. That’s why... It seems there’s no longer blue in my sky... So... Put on the masks, and let's have us one last masquerade! Dancing senselessly, on the shadows of the betrayed! A smiling, and crying, and lying charade! Such is life for the boring existence... Of a liar. Am I a... liar? Liar? Does it seem that way to you? After all fire, fire... Is burning through the roof... 'Cause you’re all... liars, liars! And I don’t know what’s true! After all fire, fire... Has ravaged all I knew... I call out liar, liar! I cannot trust you! But the world has gone askew... And there’s nothing else to do... Except bid the truth adieu... Leave this, leave it behind, hide it in the back of your head! I’ve given up on all I knew, There is nothing, that is truly true. I’ve given up on all I knew, Because after they betrayed me, they’ve gone askew. I’ve given up on all I knew, Because life, people are so boring and dull, There is nothing for me here. I don’t see a point in living... That’s a lie..? Trust me! What’s a lie? Is it lies? Only lies! I can’t pry my blind eyes, while I cry... Please, forgive my blackened sky full of lies! Truly... Lying! Truly... Dying...
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113
Falling. they say that it’s exhilarating like a fast car at midnight cheeks aching from the grin that couldn’t be held back warm fingers laced between the imperfections forgotten and yourself found. But what if the car crashes and cheeks become tear stained cold hands holding your own head heavy with thought and memories lost and broken. I suppose I’m yet to find a fall that seems worth all the what if’s.
0
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 2:16 AM UTC
k8
Philophobia
Falling. they say that it’s exhilarating like a fast car at midnight cheeks aching from the grin that couldn’t be held back warm fingers laced between the imperfections forgotten and yourself found. But what if the car crashes and cheeks become tear stained cold hands holding your own head heavy with thought and memories lost and broken. I suppose I’m yet to find a fall that seems worth all the what if’s.
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24
Eggs, eggs, toss them high in the air Catch em, and gargle, and mash them, and swear Eat them with shells, eat them with sauce Eat them with bags, eat them with moss Eggs, eggs, between sandwich bread That's what the wise elderly miller had said Before came the bomb and he had dropped dead Before being poisoned by a surplus of lead And then came a centipede, long and sanguine And bit a small child, so recently weaned Off the protein derived from his mother's fine eggs So he had to start munching on his mother's fine legs "Be warned" said the Miller, his hair all askew While dousing his wounds with mountains of glue A tapeworm emerged, and looked toward the sky Feeling envy toward all the birds that could fly But the Miller was quicker, even in old age He smacked the worm soundly, in a manner enraged Bruised from the damage, and covered in glue The worm turned away from the sky that was blue Never with pelicans would he fly with delight Never with owls would he soar through the night For all Darwin's cruelty, an injustice rings Tapeworms simply have no need for wings So he bit the old Miller, and laid ten thousand eggs They hatched and devoured his liver and legs And as the man writhed, waiting to die He vomited upward, up toward the sky The tapeworm went flying, up toward the clouds The air felt exhilarating, the rushing wind loud For once in his life, he soared with the birds Then in came a swallow, and bit off a third His body, segmented, fell in parts to the ground Tears seeped from his eyes, his face in a frown From the ground he gazed up into the ominous fog Before being lapped up by an unlucky dog The End
0
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 1:20 AM UTC
inverse-zebra
A Pleasant Surprise
Eggs, eggs, toss them high in the air Catch em, and gargle, and mash them, and swear Eat them with shells, eat them with sauce Eat them with bags, eat them with moss Eggs, eggs, between sandwich bread That's what the wise elderly miller had said Before came the bomb and he had dropped dead Before being poisoned by a surplus of lead And then came a centipede, long and sanguine And bit a small child, so recently weaned Off the protein derived from his mother's fine eggs So he had to start munching on his mother's fine legs "Be warned" said the Miller, his hair all askew While dousing his wounds with mountains of glue A tapeworm emerged, and looked toward the sky Feeling envy toward all the birds that could fly But the Miller was quicker, even in old age He smacked the worm soundly, in a manner enraged Bruised from the damage, and covered in glue The worm turned away from the sky that was blue Never with pelicans would he fly with delight Never with owls would he soar through the night For all Darwin's cruelty, an injustice rings Tapeworms simply have no need for wings So he bit the old Miller, and laid ten thousand eggs They hatched and devoured his liver and legs And as the man writhed, waiting to die He vomited upward, up toward the sky The tapeworm went flying, up toward the clouds The air felt exhilarating, the rushing wind loud For once in his life, he soared with the birds Then in came a swallow, and bit off a third His body, segmented, fell in parts to the ground Tears seeped from his eyes, his face in a frown From the ground he gazed up into the ominous fog Before being lapped up by an unlucky dog The End
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37
The room is dark, filled with void. The only thing between us is the paint and brush. I turn your head up, lost deeply into your eyes. My masculine voice commands, I set you free, explore and investigate. My body is your canvas, let them be your tool where you get lost in your world. While I get lost in your lips and my hands explore your body. In paintings we shall ignite a fire, we shall get intimate. In paintings I rock your world, I dominate you. With my lips doing justice to your body while I drill you with vigor and passion. In paintings, we shall moan, groan and scream. Feeling your body covered up in this beautiful artwork, the pleasure is exhilarating. My touch soft enough to caress you, but strong enough to protect you. I feel you, I see the hips gyrating. In our world, I am your master and I will dominate you. Let the paint expression express the feelings that can't be expressed. Let the pain you feel move you and take you to another world. In painting, you shall be set free but still my slave. In painting, I shall drill you and your inner soul. The scream is inevitable, the pain is the one you enjoy. The very moment you fantasize. May the paintings make our body flow smoothly so our souls can talk in spirits. In painting, you, scream, moan and shout. In painting, I breathe and I smack you out. In painting, we get tired and pass out. In paintings, we *** hard and loud.
0
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 3:31 AM UTC
chuks712
In paintings , I come
The room is dark, filled with void. The only thing between us is the paint and brush. I turn your head up, lost deeply into your eyes. My masculine voice commands, I set you free, explore and investigate. My body is your canvas, let them be your tool where you get lost in your world. While I get lost in your lips and my hands explore your body. In paintings we shall ignite a fire, we shall get intimate. In paintings I rock your world, I dominate you. With my lips doing justice to your body while I drill you with vigor and passion. In paintings, we shall moan, groan and scream. Feeling your body covered up in this beautiful artwork, the pleasure is exhilarating. My touch soft enough to caress you, but strong enough to protect you. I feel you, I see the hips gyrating. In our world, I am your master and I will dominate you. Let the paint expression express the feelings that can't be expressed. Let the pain you feel move you and take you to another world. In painting, you shall be set free but still my slave. In painting, I shall drill you and your inner soul. The scream is inevitable, the pain is the one you enjoy. The very moment you fantasize. May the paintings make our body flow smoothly so our souls can talk in spirits. In painting, you, scream, moan and shout. In painting, I breathe and I smack you out. In painting, we get tired and pass out. In paintings, we *** hard and loud.
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26
the petrichor penetrating the heart's core from the earth crust When quenched, it's thirst blended in the gust of the summer breeze yes! it's summer rain! the petrichor, wish I could devour intangible invisible inaccessible yet i savour! the petrichor, released by the nature joyfully when the rain heals the burns, soothingly! the petrichor, intoxicating exhilarating reviving embracing me, like you???
0
Apr 14, 2019
Apr 14, 2019 at 4:59 AM UTC
jayantee
The petrichor
the petrichor penetrating the heart's core from the earth crust When quenched, it's thirst blended in the gust of the summer breeze yes! it's summer rain! the petrichor, wish I could devour intangible invisible inaccessible yet i savour! the petrichor, released by the nature joyfully when the rain heals the burns, soothingly! the petrichor, intoxicating exhilarating reviving embracing me, like you???
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22
He was pale as death, running down like an over-wound clock Beneath his eyes, dark signs of sleeplessness tumbled short of his dreams. The pale gold odor of his lips, Parted with a series of beginnings. He was confounded with wonder at her presence That voice held him most Swathed in rose and lavender silk The darker, well-kept expanse of his suppressed eagerness blazed with light. His eyes, a deep tropical burn, on fire like the World’s Fair remotely possessed by intense life like a trembling match stained with creative passion He searched for her night and day The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic rain a deathless song a faint flow of thunder he followed the sound of it into the thick folds of the sky. her well-loved eyes, smeared with tears, glistening drops smashed into pieces on the floor Standing in a puddle of mid-summer flowers Bright ecstatic smile on the edge of pouring rain Its fluctuating, feverish warmth, full of aching grieving beauty, told of unexpected joy Are you in love with me?
0
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 2:56 PM UTC
apomegranatesmemoir13
Smoking Rain
He was pale as death, running down like an over-wound clock Beneath his eyes, dark signs of sleeplessness tumbled short of his dreams. The pale gold odor of his lips, Parted with a series of beginnings. He was confounded with wonder at her presence That voice held him most Swathed in rose and lavender silk The darker, well-kept expanse of his suppressed eagerness blazed with light. His eyes, a deep tropical burn, on fire like the World’s Fair remotely possessed by intense life like a trembling match stained with creative passion He searched for her night and day The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic rain a deathless song a faint flow of thunder he followed the sound of it into the thick folds of the sky. her well-loved eyes, smeared with tears, glistening drops smashed into pieces on the floor Standing in a puddle of mid-summer flowers Bright ecstatic smile on the edge of pouring rain Its fluctuating, feverish warmth, full of aching grieving beauty, told of unexpected joy Are you in love with me?
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30
I'm tired It's to early How exhilarating Get up get moving Get exonerated of past jury's Long worries Till death I'm  exasperating Extravagantly emulating This feeling Feels like It doesn't come with emotion Not cold No hurry Not warm Don't scurry I will not promise that the murky waters ahead Won't let you tread Till you crystallize dead Then evaporate while your mind is sleep And your subconscious soaks the memory cup effervescent Then will you know that You will not come back Escape the elasticity With electric scissors And that's more then needed But it's this route you go Because the Harder you learn the more you will grow It's too bad this whole time you weren't sleeping It's time for work
0
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
Muegen1nk
Midnight high sheep thinking of lions
I'm tired It's to early How exhilarating Get up get moving Get exonerated of past jury's Long worries Till death I'm  exasperating Extravagantly emulating This feeling Feels like It doesn't come with emotion Not cold No hurry Not warm Don't scurry I will not promise that the murky waters ahead Won't let you tread Till you crystallize dead Then evaporate while your mind is sleep And your subconscious soaks the memory cup effervescent Then will you know that You will not come back Escape the elasticity With electric scissors And that's more then needed But it's this route you go Because the Harder you learn the more you will grow It's too bad this whole time you weren't sleeping It's time for work
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29
The arousing emotional fiber of first love An exhilarating love at first sight A bittersweet painful passion An overwhelmingly deep love Gentle as a summer gust Fierce and chilling as the ice cliffs That is the way your love is to me Universal as life itself
0
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
salil-jha
TRUE LOVE
The arousing emotional fiber of first love An exhilarating love at first sight A bittersweet painful passion An overwhelmingly deep love Gentle as a summer gust Fierce and chilling as the ice cliffs That is the way your love is to me Universal as life itself
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8
Her long fingers grasped the midnight blue pigmented stick of oil, pulling it across the sand coloured card as if nothing else existed. The way she focused on the piece of art she was creating-a piece of art much like herself, was exhilarating. On the card was variations of shapes, colours and shades- much like herself. She wore a prominent frown when she drew, shaking her head and muttering things to herself when she went outside the lines, making her hair fall into the middle of her shoulder blades. Just like her masterpiece, she was made up of shapes, colours and shades. Eyes a large oval shape her nose a  triangular sculpture against her soft features. The skin on her nose and against her cheeks were a darker shade of olive, compared to the rest of her imperfect countenance. Hair like black coffee cascading down her back, merely reaching her frail waist. A sense of nostalgia surrounded her small frame. The masterpieces she creates show sentimental meanings, hidden with oval shapes and midnight blue pigmented sticks of oil, much like herself.
0
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
harmony-thomas
Much Like Herself
Her long fingers grasped the midnight blue pigmented stick of oil, pulling it across the sand coloured card as if nothing else existed. The way she focused on the piece of art she was creating-a piece of art much like herself, was exhilarating. On the card was variations of shapes, colours and shades- much like herself. She wore a prominent frown when she drew, shaking her head and muttering things to herself when she went outside the lines, making her hair fall into the middle of her shoulder blades. Just like her masterpiece, she was made up of shapes, colours and shades. Eyes a large oval shape her nose a  triangular sculpture against her soft features. The skin on her nose and against her cheeks were a darker shade of olive, compared to the rest of her imperfect countenance. Hair like black coffee cascading down her back, merely reaching her frail waist. A sense of nostalgia surrounded her small frame. The masterpieces she creates show sentimental meanings, hidden with oval shapes and midnight blue pigmented sticks of oil, much like herself.
Continue reading...
27