Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"extravagantly" poems
Who believes what we’ve heard and seen?     Who would have thought God’s saving power would look like this? The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling,     a scrubby plant in a parched field. There was nothing attractive about him,     nothing to cause us to take a second look. He was looked down on and passed over,     a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand. One look at him and people turned away.     We looked down on him, thought he was **** But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—     our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us. We thought he brought it on himself,     that God was punishing him for his own failures. But it was our sins that did that to him,     that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins! He took the punishment, and that made us whole.     Through his bruises we get healed. We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost.     We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way. And God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong,     on him, on him. He was beaten, he was tortured,     but he didn’t say a word. Like a lamb taken to be slaughtered     and like a sheep being sheared,     he took it all in silence. Justice miscarried, and he was led off—     and did anyone really know what was happening? He died without a thought for his own welfare,     beaten ****** for the sins of my people. They buried him with the wicked,     threw him in a grave with a rich man, Even though he’d never hurt a soul     or said one word that wasn’t true. Still, it’s what God had in mind all along,     to crush him with pain. The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin     so that he’d see life come from it—life, life, and more life.     And God’s plan will deeply prosper through him. Out of that terrible travail of soul,     he’ll see that it’s worth it and be glad he did it. Through what he experienced, my righteous one, my servant,     will make many “righteous ones,”     as he himself carries the burden of their sins. Therefore I’ll reward him extravagantly—     the best of everything, the highest honors— Because he looked death in the face and didn’t flinch,     because he embraced the company of the lowest. He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many,     he took up the cause of all the black sheep. ~ Eugene Peterson
0
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC
Isaiah 53 (from The Message)
Who believes what we’ve heard and seen?     Who would have thought God’s saving power would look like this? The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling,     a scrubby plant in a parched field. There was nothing attractive about him,     nothing to cause us to take a second look. He was looked down on and passed over,     a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand. One look at him and people turned away.     We looked down on him, thought he was **** But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—     our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us. We thought he brought it on himself,     that God was punishing him for his own failures. But it was our sins that did that to him,     that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins! He took the punishment, and that made us whole.     Through his bruises we get healed. We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost.     We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way. And God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong,     on him, on him. He was beaten, he was tortured,     but he didn’t say a word. Like a lamb taken to be slaughtered     and like a sheep being sheared,     he took it all in silence. Justice miscarried, and he was led off—     and did anyone really know what was happening? He died without a thought for his own welfare,     beaten ****** for the sins of my people. They buried him with the wicked,     threw him in a grave with a rich man, Even though he’d never hurt a soul     or said one word that wasn’t true. Still, it’s what God had in mind all along,     to crush him with pain. The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin     so that he’d see life come from it—life, life, and more life.     And God’s plan will deeply prosper through him. Out of that terrible travail of soul,     he’ll see that it’s worth it and be glad he did it. Through what he experienced, my righteous one, my servant,     will make many “righteous ones,”     as he himself carries the burden of their sins. Therefore I’ll reward him extravagantly—     the best of everything, the highest honors— Because he looked death in the face and didn’t flinch,     because he embraced the company of the lowest. He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many,     he took up the cause of all the black sheep. ~ Eugene Peterson
Continue reading...
52
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion Straight up forever ontology on high Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice Orotund sonorous diction obliquitous Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics Guidon gyration excursion integration Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics   Chaos charisma objectified tribulation Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis Exude emote surrogate extrapolation Astral projection littoral hypotaxis Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra Intensely cogitational abstract mantra Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
0
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 6:16 AM UTC
Asylum
I can't stop writing this poetry, Because all I think of is poetry. Phrases repeat temselves spontaniously. Like trains coming continuously Rhyme and metre extravagantly Burst into flames explosively. Twas I who consulted psychiatry. OCD he said repeatedly. OCD I thought repeatedly. Then I broke free From Rhyme and.  Metre And any rules really!!! **** it? Flower Sunshine in the rain Relax bro Be open and throw **** all over the place                     But do it with grace.
0
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 10:43 AM UTC
OCD Poetry
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
Midnight high sheep thinking of lions
I give to charity. Some people out there need food. The charities send me messages begging for money. The messages seem to be getting more extravagantly made. It seems to me that the charities are getter richer. They are begging more and more. I give to charity. Sometimes I don't.
0
Jan 27, 2011
Jan 27, 2011 at 7:46 AM UTC
Charity
I wish It were Christmas  Because I love the frenzy And excuses it brings. It's a beautiful  Excuse to not do  The ******* things  In life that we spend  Our lives doing. The fairy lights  Entwined in the trees Cross continents  With the buzz of electricity. I wish it were  Christmas because It brings the beautiful  Excuse to love Extravagantly.  Just as we love The icy daisies Of spring I love The warm branches  Of bare Christmas Trees I wish it were Christmas Because I want to  Hang the rosewood Baubles round  And see the glitter of sequin Bunting strung happily About the bedrooms. I love the beautiful  Excuses brought In the gifts bought  And how love is sieved  Through in the snow.
0
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
Christmas excuses
Many thousand glittering motes Crowd forward greedily together In trembling circles. Extravagantly carousing away For a whole hour rapidly vanishing, They rave, delirious, a shrill whir, Shivering with joy against death. While kingdoms, sunk into ruin, Whose thrones, heavy with gold, instantly scattered Into night and legend, without leaving a trace, Have never known so fierce a dancing.
0
3.3k
A Swarm Of Gnats
It is useless To put a love worth more than fire In the vicinity of a child. Small hands catching embers Like snowflakes. Feet powdered with ashes Will only ruin his mother's dress. No one can keep two eyes On their brother's treasure Without dreaming of islands. White sand outlining The future of the red hands. A future lived extravagantly In an empty beach house. Unfair, To a world filled with hypocrisy, For lovers to live like angles. Cynical souls will never grasp A hand as beautiful as yours. Company, confused in confession, Lost in self-loathing, Cannot behold eyes of the Darkest forest green. Skin subsides for saber teeth, Not worthy enough for your lips. It is unfair to the world That you are mine. I found a lone pearl in a grave Of broken glass.
0
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 2:29 AM UTC
Unfair
Purifying bath Katmandu Nepal Yes come to these purifying waters join these ladies it will not perform the greater spiritual cleansing But it provides a picture of glory with her lying on her back she is just slightly submerged in this grey Clear water her face is beaming her shoulders are bare her hair flows around her neck on one side one Arm is freely laid over her chest the other extends upward as a friend holds her by the wrist we all know The bliss that water enriches us with her brown skin is truly purified and her personnel glory again Beams with such peace soon the elements will converge to change her thoughts and feelings but they Will not touch the conciseness that was altered in the river Baghmati during Reshi Panchmi a purifying And Atonement day for women they bare extra burdens in foreign lands how great to see them Experience such joy countless burdens are washed away at least momentarily water the friend and Blessed comfort to matrons it provides one of the most picture perfect sights of a soul in repose you lie Without care a dear friend holds you by the wrist they bottled water if only they could capture this Special reality and provide it on demand there is nothing stopping anyone from acting this out it would Change your day your whole perspective it would truly reenergize body and soul I thought I would just Share a place in time a rite that provides concepts that ever so briefly will take you out of time fill you With rapture make you devoid of care allow you to play in the courts of the extravagantly rich with out Price or responsibility they say nothing is free it doesn’t get any more free or freeing than this I guess it Cost nature the clouds way up in the Himalayas release the moist weight it falls as abundant rain the River swells and flows gravity pulls it down to the lower valley and when you enter you luxuriate in Water’s gift tell the tale Katmandu alone is renown but it has even greater layers of reward than the normal expectations hope you enjoyed a refreshing
0
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 6:41 PM UTC
Purifying bath Katmandu Nepal
Purifying bath Katmandu Nepal Yes come to these purifying waters join these ladies it will not perform the greater spiritual cleansing But it provides a picture of glory with her lying on her back she is just slightly submerged in this grey Clear water her face is beaming her shoulders are bare her hair flows around her neck on one side one Arm is freely laid over her chest the other extends upward as a friend holds her by the wrist we all know The bliss that water enriches us with her brown skin is truly purified and her personnel glory again Beams with such peace soon the elements will converge to change her thoughts and feelings but they Will not touch the conciseness that was altered in the river Baghmati during Reshi Panchmi a purifying And Atonement day for women they bare extra burdens in foreign lands how great to see them Experience such joy countless burdens are washed away at least momentarily water the friend and Blessed comfort to matrons it provides one of the most picture perfect sights of a soul in repose you lie Without care a dear friend holds you by the wrist they bottled water if only they could capture this Special reality and provide it on demand there is nothing stopping anyone from acting this out it would Change your day your whole perspective it would truly reenergize body and soul I thought I would just Share a place in time a rite that provides concepts that ever so briefly will take you out of time fill you With rapture make you devoid of care allow you to play in the courts of the extravagantly rich with out Price or responsibility they say nothing is free it doesn’t get any more free or freeing than this I guess it Cost nature the clouds way up in the Himalayas release the moist weight it falls as abundant rain the River swells and flows gravity pulls it down to the lower valley and when you enter you luxuriate in Water’s gift tell the tale Katmandu alone is renown but it has even greater layers of reward than the normal expectations hope you enjoyed a refreshing
Continue reading...
21
Purifying bath Katmandu Nepal Yes come to these purifying waters join these ladies it will not perform the greater spiritual cleansing But it provides a picture of glory with her lying on her back she is just slightly submerged in this grey Clear water her face is beaming her shoulders are bare her hair flows around her neck on one side one Arm is freely laid over her chest the other extends upward as a friend holds her by the wrist we all know The bliss that water enriches us with her brown skin is truly purified and her personnel glory again Beams with such peace soon the elements will converge to change her thoughts and feelings but they Will not touch the conciseness that was altered in the river Baghmati during Reshi Panchmi a purifying And Atonement day for women they bare extra burdens in foreign lands how great to see them Experience such joy countless burdens are washed away at least momentarily water the friend and Blessed comfort to matrons it provides one of the most picture perfect sights of a soul in repose you lie Without care a dear friend holds you by the wrist they bottled water if only they could capture this Special reality and provide it on demand there is nothing stopping anyone from acting this out it would Change your day your whole perspective it would truly reenergize body and soul I thought I would just Share a place in time a rite that provides concepts that ever so briefly will take you out of time fill you With rapture make you devoid of care allow you to play in the courts of the extravagantly rich with out Price or responsibility they say nothing is free it doesn’t get any more free or freeing than this I guess it Cost nature the clouds way up in the Himalayas release the moist weight it falls as abundant rain the River swells and flows gravity pulls it down to the lower valley and when you enter you luxuriate in Water’s gift tell the tale Katmandu alone is renown but it has even greater layers of reward than the normal expectations hope you enjoyed a refreshing
0
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 6:41 PM UTC
Purifying bath Katmandu Nepal
Purifying bath Katmandu Nepal Yes come to these purifying waters join these ladies it will not perform the greater spiritual cleansing But it provides a picture of glory with her lying on her back she is just slightly submerged in this grey Clear water her face is beaming her shoulders are bare her hair flows around her neck on one side one Arm is freely laid over her chest the other extends upward as a friend holds her by the wrist we all know The bliss that water enriches us with her brown skin is truly purified and her personnel glory again Beams with such peace soon the elements will converge to change her thoughts and feelings but they Will not touch the conciseness that was altered in the river Baghmati during Reshi Panchmi a purifying And Atonement day for women they bare extra burdens in foreign lands how great to see them Experience such joy countless burdens are washed away at least momentarily water the friend and Blessed comfort to matrons it provides one of the most picture perfect sights of a soul in repose you lie Without care a dear friend holds you by the wrist they bottled water if only they could capture this Special reality and provide it on demand there is nothing stopping anyone from acting this out it would Change your day your whole perspective it would truly reenergize body and soul I thought I would just Share a place in time a rite that provides concepts that ever so briefly will take you out of time fill you With rapture make you devoid of care allow you to play in the courts of the extravagantly rich with out Price or responsibility they say nothing is free it doesn’t get any more free or freeing than this I guess it Cost nature the clouds way up in the Himalayas release the moist weight it falls as abundant rain the River swells and flows gravity pulls it down to the lower valley and when you enter you luxuriate in Water’s gift tell the tale Katmandu alone is renown but it has even greater layers of reward than the normal expectations hope you enjoyed a refreshing
Continue reading...
21
I could tell you how to write a poem Playful phrasing, not too quick, not too strong, Be graphic and persuasive, appealing to us all, The want for supposed meaning and a silver tongue Is the truth beneath our fall Heartfelt sentiment, articulation, Let’s entice some Pharisees to avoid any tribulation For the bouts and shouts of living out And extravagantly exhibiting oneself to all and everyone— Clichéd, now it may be, There’s truth in that I see Can we find apparent happiness All appearance and accreditation, Let’s be certain we’re (clandestinely) drudging for recognition, Yet, I can never tell you what is true in writing, The slow path? That’s what I long for, Or profess, in the world of colorful mosaics, I am the truth! The way and the light! I’ll set you free! The God of Wonders! Can’t you see? I’m God, I’ve always meant to be! *Heaven help me, I didn’t mean to pretend But I believed beyond What even I could comprehend.. I’m not God, this I know, But is this— The way I'll go?* It is my end…
0
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
Worst Poem (Greed)
sort-of falls in line with a certain sense of humour; a certain need for extravagantly epic Music; Truest of Metal is an extension, an expression, of the disciplines of: Practice, Patience, and Study in the realm of Music as well as whatever Instrument; some of it is, indeed, simply noise but, then again, Music is but ordered noise, is it not? I see little separation from Classical and Metal; though Classical came first Metal learned what works and why from what came before; a sort-of Musical evolution a sort-of Cognitive evolution a sort-of inspiration; Metal music has great potential, Metal is akin to Blues and Jazz Metal is akin to Spanish Classical Guitar Metal is akin to Baroque styles Metal is akin to Gregorian chants as well as rhythmic elements derived from the Music of various Cultures and Tribes worldwide. Metal is a moderately tongue in cheek melting *** for lots of styles, and, honestly, lots of Drugs, such as :alcohol and nicotine and high-energy Music; Truest of Metal is an Art and a Science, and, to some, even a Religion.
0
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
Metal
conversational   tones too often tumble into sloppiness, leaving my words marked with fumble -d caresses and stuttering half-t -houghts. i don't leave you with my leftovers on purpose, they d -ropped  into my purse when i c -ame to see you today. a lot of th -ings drop into  my mind when i see you. but it's mostly  your wo -rds. perhaps my only love affair was with the   letters you placed under my name. i never wanted to be beautiful until you wrote o -f it with a ball point pen;  never dreamt of living extravagantly u -ntil you dusted me in spices and sparks with flecks of ink and the marks of your fingers. you crafte -d everything you loved about m -e. you are the only reason i am e -xtravagantly in love  with the fle -cks and sparks under my skin. y -ou planted whispers beneath my eyes and called them  dangerous. but only you      were  dangerous to                                                 me
0
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 6:17 PM UTC
tumbling
Collaboration's implicit excitations explicate expectations Unity's myriad augurs geomancy's indications Demagoguery's ostensibly intuitive impetus coordinations Extravagantly exorbitant panaceas appreciate exaggerations Prolifically profuse profundity's autonomous gestations Empirically emulate epistemology's exogamous creations Intrigue's imperative promulgation's quantum fecundations   Fealty's ephemeral enunciation's explicit complications Hypercritically exponential prophylaxis protocol's interpretations Sacrosanct unary's preternatural predilection's extrications Eventuation's evocative illuminism avant garde's ostentations Corrupt costume counselor's indicative explications Assimilation's synthetic synthesis' ascensional implications Ominous phenomenon portrayal detinue's integrations Umbrage ultraism's penumbral platitude's objectifications Futurity's spontaneous flamboyance's apotropaic expiations
0
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 7:53 PM UTC
Synergy
Igor found himself producing the hot new reality podcast about the first [known] father-son transgender family; he only produced the pilot then left the States in disgrace after homophobic thugs attacked the set & beat down the cast & crew in a ****** riot captured live on multiple hi-def cameras from the multiple angles already set up for the extravagantly over budgeted podcast [his master footage recorded                                       on multiple flashdrives hidden all over his person - the podcast project went ahead w/out him backed              by lucrative corporate funding, Igor editing                   the original material into his next feature; Eli lowered the tinted window & passed Igor the Cuban, Igor lighting it on his way around to the passenger side; YA ne mogu ostat'sya v Rossii, he says; why's that?     asks Eli, lighting his own cigar & driving off; Boleye poloviny prestupnikov - gey; Eto stanet khorosho izvestno; Eli waswatching the street, scouting for new talent; u can't worry about that kind of **** Igor. u showed people what those ******** are really about - - a bunch of angry ****                           w/ shaved heads, who knew; opening the sun roof,          Eli blew the Cuban's smoke towards the Saint Petersburg sky;       Igor reclining the leather seat, [         ] [               ],          [             ]                                    [                ], [          ] ,           [         ] [             ]                     [              ], [                ]              [               ],                                    filling his head w/ night
0
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 4:34 AM UTC
paren', ty dolzhen zabrat' menya v aeroportu.
Igor found himself producing the hot new reality podcast about the first [known] father-son transgender family; he only produced the pilot then left the States in disgrace after homophobic thugs attacked the set & beat down the cast & crew in a ****** riot captured live on multiple hi-def cameras from the multiple angles already set up for the extravagantly over budgeted podcast [his master footage recorded                                       on multiple flashdrives hidden all over his person - the podcast project went ahead w/out him backed              by lucrative corporate funding, Igor editing                   the original material into his next feature; Eli lowered the tinted window & passed Igor the Cuban, Igor lighting it on his way around to the passenger side; YA ne mogu ostat'sya v Rossii, he says; why's that?     asks Eli, lighting his own cigar & driving off; Boleye poloviny prestupnikov - gey; Eto stanet khorosho izvestno; Eli waswatching the street, scouting for new talent; u can't worry about that kind of **** Igor. u showed people what those ******** are really about - - a bunch of angry ****                           w/ shaved heads, who knew; opening the sun roof,          Eli blew the Cuban's smoke towards the Saint Petersburg sky;       Igor reclining the leather seat, [         ] [               ],          [             ]                                    [                ], [          ] ,           [         ] [             ]                     [              ], [                ]              [               ],                                    filling his head w/ night
Continue reading...
31
Diastolic memory fills mind with blood Heart purges other unforgettable serum Gushing in and out; valediction, invasion Scent left on bed sheets binomial theorem Calculus, physics computing mnemonics us Trust not sum of it, exponents baying flux Participles and components abject humbling Stumbling bio discourse create sedentary crux Stupefying brain surgeons, those of heart too Call in mathematicians, astronomers as well No making sense of it, linguistic doctorates few To tell of this push-pull sensory denoting hell Not much time to live after lungs dispensed Entrenched questions remain to be adoring Extravagantly historians exploring Unanswerable examining of this imploring Must breathe the linens till all dissipation Your essence in the ether of our resting Place turned into mad languid laboratory Conjuring back moments I am requesting
0
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 9:30 AM UTC
Memory Does Not Fail
Tempests escort trust Right out the door In rudest manner. Blustery, with an icy chill That breathes nausea into my soul, Fear has ******* trust for far too long. This is not The Way. This is not what He designed, Nor paid so dearly for. He could not be more clear: “You will have trouble- But take heart, I have overcome the world, I am with you always,” Cast your cares on me, Consider the lilies of the field, I’ve numbered the hairs on your head.” It’s time I get ruthless, Toss fear and worry out, And bar the door with trust. Start a fire of gratitude in the hearth, And cook a celebratory feast. When darkness descends And trouble comes in waves, When I see things gone wrong, With no redeeming bent, I will wait. I will clutch His hand and wait. I will look around in this moment, And ask, “Father, what would you have?” I lack understanding, And there is nothing good in me, But I belong to One who Loves extravagantly, Strengthens repeatedly, Forgives freely, Rules in humility, And is jealous for my trust. I’m beginning to think It is an all or nothing proposition. Clarity may not come, Not in this shady realm. But confident expectation surely can. Do I or don’t I? Will I or won’t I? Trepidation and trust Just a heartbeat apart, these two. It’s time for ruthless trust.
0
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 1:49 PM UTC
Ruthless Trust
Lean on my chest, gentle one, let's sit holding hands, mountain breeze whispers Shanti mantras, let's repeat it, may tranquil be our souls, we aren't weary yet, but the ardor of the climb ends here; from this vintage point we are, distant heaven and beloved earth, look deceptively equidistant, rest your eyes on mine, let me see eternity flashing it's light. Don't even say a word, what your heart beat says is to my heart, the view from this peak is what we dreamt always,remember? an incredible leap of the souls, now we feel, is the reward of the trek we are equanimous, yet the  tears in your doe eyes, I can't bear, we are mortals, pain is a mongrel, our faithful companion to the end. Let's sit here, till the gold dust, the passing sun extravagantly sprinkles, that tells stories of galaxies dying down and new ones taking birth- finally settles, and the anesthetic of darkness gently descends. Look! the hidden envious eyes of the night, from afar peep at us, on the journey back, we'll fly beyond limits and vanquish the big dark.
0
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 11:22 AM UTC
Sonata for the day on the green peak
Shall we pluck intensity from the air   and perhaps coil it soundly and extravagantly into a petal-soft bed of rarely seen dreaming, where sheets of silk make textured messages into sequinned bliss with rainbowed moonbeams ? Shall we take flight, you and I ? Untried dimensions wait to take us far, to make morning metaphors, and catch sight of bliss made for our breakfasting bed. Let us capture euphoria to feel more elation, and when glorious sun enters, rapturous untamed passion shall paint light on the face of our embrace leading to ecstasy. Shall we make haste then to taste eternity ?
0
Oct 26, 2010
Oct 26, 2010 at 9:51 AM UTC
Untried Dimensions.
Sitting there in a mist I was lookin at the turning, Holding onto what the heart was yearning, 50 percent was it about u concerning, 50 percent fr the nasty end determining. Cold was the blood from the brain returning, Soul was chilled but the body was burning. Body was in a trauma, its insides churning, And the soul inside that body just kept mourning. She was there in front of me, Questions raising in mind lyk a hue. It was lyk we were meeting, Somewhere out of the blue. Her eyes brown and cold, Like those prepared to hold, Clenching my heart with her softest touch, She was Silent but extravagantly bold.. Hair was like the flowing river, Ears covered with small rings of gold. Her Lips were saying something, Eyes depicting back the love which was once sold. We'd been so beautiful together, But then u smashed and made it all fall, Then I went on walking aimlessly, About the world, I hardly cared at all. What did u think I was made of, Body of wood And heart wid abstract walls?, And then the gasoline u took by, Spilled it, lit it and made it burn all. Now u come again to see the burnt ashes, And wid those lips, to this, love u call. U'd been so enormous to me, Now u r the same but u look so small. The only fear that now concerns me, Is if u ask for forgiveness I vl forget it all. Sitting there in a mist I was lookin at the turning, Holding onto what the heart was yearning, 50 percent was it about u concerning, 50 percent fr the nasty end determining. Cold was the blood from the brain returning, Soul was chilled but the body was burning. Body was in a trauma, its insides churning, And the soul inside that body just kept mourning. COPYRIGHT 2013 © MAHESH HEGDE. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
0
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
An Ode To The gONE
Sitting there in a mist I was lookin at the turning, Holding onto what the heart was yearning, 50 percent was it about u concerning, 50 percent fr the nasty end determining. Cold was the blood from the brain returning, Soul was chilled but the body was burning. Body was in a trauma, its insides churning, And the soul inside that body just kept mourning. She was there in front of me, Questions raising in mind lyk a hue. It was lyk we were meeting, Somewhere out of the blue. Her eyes brown and cold, Like those prepared to hold, Clenching my heart with her softest touch, She was Silent but extravagantly bold.. Hair was like the flowing river, Ears covered with small rings of gold. Her Lips were saying something, Eyes depicting back the love which was once sold. We'd been so beautiful together, But then u smashed and made it all fall, Then I went on walking aimlessly, About the world, I hardly cared at all. What did u think I was made of, Body of wood And heart wid abstract walls?, And then the gasoline u took by, Spilled it, lit it and made it burn all. Now u come again to see the burnt ashes, And wid those lips, to this, love u call. U'd been so enormous to me, Now u r the same but u look so small. The only fear that now concerns me, Is if u ask for forgiveness I vl forget it all. Sitting there in a mist I was lookin at the turning, Holding onto what the heart was yearning, 50 percent was it about u concerning, 50 percent fr the nasty end determining. Cold was the blood from the brain returning, Soul was chilled but the body was burning. Body was in a trauma, its insides churning, And the soul inside that body just kept mourning. COPYRIGHT 2013 © MAHESH HEGDE. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Continue reading...
43
I travelled the Mediterranean coast when I was young Such a beautiful landscape Carefully carved from stone Castles and cathedrals Extravagantly designed The marriage of man and divinity In a Jubilee ancient time Unfortunately The ghost of my ethnicity No long prevails If there’s no forest or rivers I call that hell I’ll take the winter I’ll wait for the season to change Find me not in any city Nor any kind of desert terrain Out here is where I’ll stay!
0
Jul 14, 2024
Jul 14, 2024 at 12:57 PM UTC
Genealogically Unconnected
Perhaps everything that has ever existed will exist forever in the psychic clarity of God.  Retrospectively retroactive's omniscient ubiquity.  Objectified manifest's infinite possibilities exponentially extemporaneous eidetic prospectus perpetrates incorporeity ideology's perfectible ontology.     Imagination's immaturities would seem to purvey that these things are irrefragably inevitable in the light of noumenal sentience's semantic regalia.  Astral projection's distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness to clairaudience clairvoyance existential extremity.   Spatiotemporal telemetry tactician's trajectory extant is totally tangential.  Extravagantly exorbitant's flirtatious flamboyance to flippantly flighty flit-ness.  Down here at the bizarre  bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugue-ness estranged ensemble orchestrations and all.  Some of us are even into the various assorted forms of related stranger weirdness, similar states of analogous collusion and ancillary subordinateness.  Laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tedium, excruciating exacerbations of autonomous avarice.   I'd like to think that these arguments have leverage on the reconnaissance reconnoiter.  Mentality's osteopathic prescience is an empirical substance.  Psychokinesis is an art.  Eclectic synectics's social contiguities zoomorphic zoolatry to demagoguery could raise us all to new heights of enigmatism and leave our corporeally preternatural finiteness endowed with a fidelity that exceeds itself, foreshadowing life's mysteries.  No more dour droll dreary ochlocracy of an oligarchy.  Stolid stoic bailiff's rake-ness rails, vicarious recalcitrance for all!
0
Jan 25, 2025
Jan 25, 2025 at 12:34 PM UTC
Fulgurous fulcrum's fulham
Perhaps everything that has ever existed will exist forever in the psychic clarity of God.  Retrospectively retroactive's omniscient ubiquity.  Objectified manifest's infinite possibilities exponentially extemporaneous eidetic prospectus perpetrates incorporeity ideology's perfectible ontology.     Imagination's immaturities would seem to purvey that these things are irrefragably inevitable in the light of noumenal sentience's semantic regalia.  Astral projection's distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness to clairaudience clairvoyance existential extremity.   Spatiotemporal telemetry tactician's trajectory extant is totally tangential.  Extravagantly exorbitant's flirtatious flamboyance to flippantly flighty flit-ness.  Down here at the bizarre  bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugue-ness estranged ensemble orchestrations and all.  Some of us are even into the various assorted forms of related stranger weirdness, similar states of analogous collusion and ancillary subordinateness.  Laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tedium, excruciating exacerbations of autonomous avarice.   I'd like to think that these arguments have leverage on the reconnaissance reconnoiter.  Mentality's osteopathic prescience is an empirical substance.  Psychokinesis is an art.  Eclectic synectics's social contiguities zoomorphic zoolatry to demagoguery could raise us all to new heights of enigmatism and leave our corporeally preternatural finiteness endowed with a fidelity that exceeds itself, foreshadowing life's mysteries.  No more dour droll dreary ochlocracy of an oligarchy.  Stolid stoic bailiff's rake-ness rails, vicarious recalcitrance for all!
Continue reading...
5
Dance                                             For    with                                             our                                            Despite   me.                                         gorgeous                                      this                                              curtain                                    expeditious Despite                                call,                                                    expansion this vast                                             For the                     which void                                       prelude                     separates us apart between                            of a brighter      us                                 prospect             Let you lift the veils of  my                                                               kaleidoscopic nebulae     and touch                                                            my blazing heart lies underneath Splash of                                              in the way i caress yours     while the   Shining crystal                    two of them melt down, fuse together                                                                     unleash hives of fireflies              Amongst the crowd                            of  endlessly                                                      our course                                         straying strangers                       come across Would i care        pouring lifetime collection                                                         Garnet    of my astro       toss all of them    extravagantly      billions of millions of them                                             Diamond      in exchange        of crossing          your wings with mine                      Amythest                                                                    Aquamarine                        Lit up                                                                   Fire Opal             the magnificent                                   our   symphany                                                     curtain call                                                                    and the prelude Drawing                                                  of an upcoming curves of                            brighter prospect new horizon Dance with me
0
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 12:25 PM UTC
Galactic Collision
Dance                                             For    with                                             our                                            Despite   me.                                         gorgeous                                      this                                              curtain                                    expeditious Despite                                call,                                                    expansion this vast                                             For the                     which void                                       prelude                     separates us apart between                            of a brighter      us                                 prospect             Let you lift the veils of  my                                                               kaleidoscopic nebulae     and touch                                                            my blazing heart lies underneath Splash of                                              in the way i caress yours     while the   Shining crystal                    two of them melt down, fuse together                                                                     unleash hives of fireflies              Amongst the crowd                            of  endlessly                                                      our course                                         straying strangers                       come across Would i care        pouring lifetime collection                                                         Garnet    of my astro       toss all of them    extravagantly      billions of millions of them                                             Diamond      in exchange        of crossing          your wings with mine                      Amythest                                                                    Aquamarine                        Lit up                                                                   Fire Opal             the magnificent                                   our   symphany                                                     curtain call                                                                    and the prelude Drawing                                                  of an upcoming curves of                            brighter prospect new horizon Dance with me
Continue reading...
32
Everybody adores you You are worth so much more than a torrent of tears She will be saved If I don't mop it up for you Lick off your sweat You are the only one who deserves laughter Every time, There is utility in donning it for me Never, Do I wish to forget you and how you partially appear No one will ever forget your silence Losing countless memories of you You cannot feel hate, death could sadly stand still If you would extravagantly appear Here                      Here     Here.
0
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC
If You Would Appear