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Mystic Ink Plus Aug 2018
When I was asked

Where is your home?
Who is your idol?
Anyone alike you?
What matters the most?
The hardest goodbye

I didn’t reply

But
For all
I remember
You
Genre: Experimental
Theme: The connection
A Dec 2018
but even the reverberating echo of the crowd
does not stop the ache of your chest
or fill the empty space of your arms at night
the flickering of the lamp on and off like the passing seasons
or the ringing of a phone that no one will pick up
can't quell the fact that you do not want to be alone tonight
or any night
so find the men in the corners of the room
the ones who need your company as much as you need theirs
and pray that you are not just a trophy to go on their shelf
a memory of the time they spent the night in your bed
hide the regret in your eyes behind all the remains of the lines of coke
and the empty glasses scattered on your table
please
do not forget
when you have everything
sometimes
you still do not have anyone
i wrote this in preparation for seeing bohemian rhapsody
Jon York Mar 13
I Love and
    I cherish every
         aspect of
the divine feminine
       that  stands
         before me.
            I feel
     her and I touch
        every part
            of her
      angelic body
        and to her
                 I
whisper the truths
    my heart holds.
         And she
  embraces the full  
     embodiment  
of  her soul's essence
  and  now the only
piece left to finish this
    exquisite mosaic
is the sacred union she
    shares with me,
her divine masculine,
     and notice how
she glows differently
    when loved right
               and
    treated  properly.                                       ­                  Jon York   2019
A W Bullen Mar 2017
Cold stoles the coast in geisha voiles
of pawned Atlantic mourning, where

The plangent skirl of larids
carry through the vast exquisite
plains of February emptiness.

Aloft on coronal ruin, she flew
in free form falling, between the spheres
she grew in brightness, and by her ******,
the moping shale, appeared , as if transformed.

She blessed the face of stained glass saints
hung loud on hallowed walls, From a
palisade of glinting brinks, she
hauled deserted chapels into
parishes of lambent wake
their majesties , reborn.
I am the flower of untouched perceptibility, the unique breed nobody could ever find in any imposing gardens. Do not chase to haunt me and the richness of my petals’ sap if you are not a holy breed of spirit as I might wither and get my seeds of knowledge scratched in your unjust volition. I am the pearl, the mermaid chain of blushing moon tides.
jane taylor May 2016
come hither
bring the next epiphany
tho’ it may be shrouded
in the darkest night of soul
‘tis too exquisite
not to know
the wisdom folded
within

©2016janetaylor
Bel B Apr 2018
It was effortlessly beautiful that night,
shining the brightest amongst all.
I've never seen it glowing radiantly,
such exquisite sight is rarely seen.
I ponder upon the beauty,
unlike any other day
where it was just a crescent
and sometimes faded.


It reminded me of someone,
someone whom I've lost
while i was busy searching for the star.
D Awanis Apr 2017
We were born in different shapes, colors, and size
Not a single embryo was able to decide their DNA or blood type
But that shouldn't make us less humans than the others
It's the diversity that makes us exquisite and beautiful

Break down the stereotype that beauty is fair skin,
that beauty is a skinny and blonde-haired lady
that beauty is wearing clothes with branded labels
that beauty is applying tons of foundation and mascara

Who are we to determine the standard of beauty, anyway?
While each of us is God's creativity,
authentically made by His hands

Who are we to judge God's taste in art, anyway?
While each of us is uniquely magnificent,
as His creations are never less than a masterpiece

Keep in mind that the real beauty lies within ourselves,
beneath our skin, between our thoughts, and inside our soul
Embrace your inner beauty
mariano aponte Feb 2016
Absence of malice
Her smile whispers
Eyes in agreement
with subtle grace
Indulged gestures
I prearrange
From the first place
am I caught in a haze
With the rate of exchange
and no charming phrase  
Exquisite delicacies seem ornamental
yet feels pretty real
her flirtatious displays
No harm
I can still be sentimental
As I take note to compose
then reappraise
Empirical proof
whether artful or not
Her passes are strickly incidental
Ashley Chapman Oct 2017
In Hornsey
      N8
          resting.
              From somewhere
                  a rising crescendo
                       'Ohhh, My God, yes.
                            That's so ******' good!'
                                On the walkway
                                      the plasticised soles
                                           of black pumps
                                                slap the pavement
                                                   obsce­nely,
                                                        I think.
                                                              Bu­t ...
                                                             ­     Hang on!
                                                            I hold
                                                      slowin­g
                                                 And
                                            look up.
                                      From a cherry tree
                                 an exquisite
                           pink blossom
                       releases herself
                  gliding
              closer
          &
     closer
.
Unfortunately, this poem hardly works on a mobile. It needs a wide screen to catch the visual effect.

I've seen the way some write here on HePo using the line breaks to punctuate and I wanted to try.
There are other techniques, too, visual puns,  that I love.

Anyway, when is a poem over? For me I tinker over days, through many hours, moving stuff around until I can't move anything any more because the effect of moving it jars with the intention. The intention? I don't know, it's intuitive. This poem for instance is problematic because what I really liked about it was the juxtaposition of a blossom and my own crabbiness, but that may not work for others, which would have meant that my love of the blossom would have been wasted.  Ahhh, perhaps, if that's the case, she'll come back to me in some other way; for my love of the blossom springs, of course, eternal ...
I had not told you of  this, not yet,
Until now, when it returns clearly,
Within the timelessness of interior life.
A month to the day and the memory,
Abides in its own identity, being itself.
                          
Into this now familiar unboundedness
Came a new and exquisite presence,
A force field tenderly embracing me -
Just along the edges of my seated form.
Unmistakably you. A quiet certainty.
How could I know? But I knew.
As it dissolved, a light of the palest green,
Took its place, glowing a blessing.
                        
Breathing became the intake of bliss
made into the finest substance, and
I was renewed, visited, complete.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
K Mae Sep 2016
You are
evolving mystery
exquisite vexing partner
exponential...
all potential
streams through you
and back through you returns

No matter the illusion
we dance with you
Mara W Kayh Mar 18
Bitterness is the taste of fiery love grown cold
On a lover's breath

Putrid is the smell of a well worn out fantasy
left hanging in your secret closet

Rancid is the look of unrequited love
On once vibrant lovers' lips

Hardened are the veins of a
desperate old fool
Longing for love

Cursed was the day I let you inside
The exquisite warmth
that is my beating heart
Getting more mileage out of that brief affair.. Because  it was preceded by an over decade long distance friendship , which I miss. Plus, I really really like the guy.. As in love like. . And I don't easily find myself so taken with anyone in that way.....
Tammy M Darby Feb 2017
Rest your weary body
Drink from my golden goblet
The most delicate and finest of wines
A potion of wild raspberries, bitterness and jeering contempt
Assault the light that dare not shine

It is the elixir of a dispassionate heart
If you possess no fear
Taste the confectionery of sadness call
Where love frightened evades approach
Upon remembrance of the long dark fall

Sip from the golden goblet
Taste the cruel sweetness of pain
Damnation to those who denounce the motive behind the actions
Until the bed of anguish you have lain

But these rare wines have no equal in quality
Defiled by evil and cursed with shame
The unquenchable thirst for blood taints the golden rim
As the murderous night slew the rising of the day

So lift high the golden goblet and drink  
An immortal taste of time
Accompany me into the world of melancholy
Where is served the most of exquisite wines
Come close now the hour when words become whispers
Demanding recompense for the crimes.

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Feb. 8. 2017
Written for the Monster
Lyrical Dream Dec 2018
Her dark pupils
were surrounded
by a raging silver flame
swallowed by a wave
of cerulean blue

It was as if each shade
swirled into one whirlpool
of exquisite beauty;

The soft petals
of a field of cornflowers,

The electric flash
of lightning during a storm,

The sparkling surface
of a star-stained river
rushing to join the sea

A sea that made it difficult to stay above the waves
King Panda Jul 2017
693
I wake up apart
and exquisite just
having slept nine hours.
there is a stout rain—
fallen, realized—water
on my mind in the
arms of the wind.
leafy is my yawn.
longing is my love.
and my hand rises
to rub my numb face
awake.
I am alive in this moment.
Sprung to the road
                   Had coffee in the moonlight

Her, photographing,
                              The strap pulling her hair in an exquisite way
                              On her knees like a tiny elf
                              Illuminated by yellow street candles,

It was a summer night and the wind was gentle.

It was an odd night
                 In the odd same city as always
                             Oddly comfortable.

The coffee left a bitter taste

Yet the car drove us sweet and joyful
                    Through the yellow painted night.
july 5, 2017
1:20 a.m.
aphotic blue Mar 2018
you
you are my sunshine in my darkest cloud
you made my heart flutter amongst the crowd
you are my rainbow after my melancholy's rain
you still made my eyes twinkling tho i'm in pain

you are my only hope my love in times of despair
those exquisite memories of ours, i planned with care
you are my undying love in this ruthless earth
love me forever for we're destined since birth
©AphoticBlue
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