"exuberating" poems
You look at the sky.
You see a vast open mirage cascaded in a warm royal blanket,
with silver clouds that linger above your every thought.
I see something different.
I see a beautiful visual distinction of everyone's plausible possibilities.
The single flap of a budding bird, taking off into life's flight.
The sensational physical reaction of a rain droplet exuberating onto skin.
A natural epiphany.
The unyielding bolts of light hammering from up above,
turning specks of sand into timeless memories.
I see a never ending scape of clarity.
An omnipotent place of livability that stretches to the heavens,
just a piece of what might be in store.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
Today we frolicked through a flowering field
Daisies and Dandelions
Laughter and joy preceded
Happy and Bright
No clouds, no dust, no strife or worries
Calm and Relaxing
And so we made daisy chains with green petals
White and Yellow
And we held hands in the clear sun
Exuberating and exhilarating
And then you looked me in the eyes and said
"You have to die"
Serious and Grave
And I nodded my head and gathered dandelions
Heady and Dense
And I wove them into a noose
Tight and Strong
And you hung me upon a blossoming branch
Flowery and Scented
I smiled a farewell smile and waved a purple hand
Coloured and Dying
And you blew me a kiss and laid a hand across my eyes
Dark and Quiet
So I could not see you walk away and leave me to fade
Sad and Depressing
So that I could not see Death itself take me
So that I could not see myself take my own life
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 11:07 PM UTC
He sits next to you on the train.
Your heart flushes as he smiles your way.
There's something about him that draws you in,
maybe it's his dreamy hair,
that seems to shine in the morning sun,
or maybe it's the book he was reading,
or maybe it was his hollow eyes,
the ones with the rings under them that makes him
look like he's three weeks past bedtime.
His four patches on his blue, denim jacket,
each with sassy comments on them, stating his hatred for Trump,
or his place as a Feminist?
The colourless rainbow tattoo on his wrist,
next to a heart.
It has her name on it.
And you sit and wonder...
Am I her?
You aren't.
You're not his tattoo,
the one that sits on his wrist.
A name that is passed carelessly throughout the carriages,
The name that stops at the platform.
You are a gentle thought,
unravelled in the minds of others,
growing and nurturing,
exuberating kindness as you do so.
You are not his tattoo,
but a garden,
soon to flourish and grow stronger,
toughening through harsh winters.
You are not his.
You are an evergreen mass,
you were born to live
and you thrive as you do so.
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 7:22 PM UTC
I once fell asleep,
to pleasantries of sound.
As the ribbon slides,
it painted color vibrance.
An emotional luminance, that made,
the soulless whole,
and the blind blissful.
Sleeping to strings,
felt like death.
Not the regretful kind.
It felt as if laying,
in the field,
staring at the bountiful sky,
as seasons pass eternity.
A melody of,
exuberating melancholy,
was infectious.
As if my body,
gave into sickness.
Now its still,
in joyous null.
Let breath subside,
slowing to a faint whisper.
Sink into a nothingness mind,
drain all to slumber.
And listen to Prélude.
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 10:53 AM UTC
Saluting a happy spirit like you
Ever exuberating a joyous hue,
Changing any monotonous gloom
Into a boisterous croon;
Expanding boundaries,being inclusive
Making every close one feel exclusive
Going that extra mile,
Re-installing faith,reinforcing smiles;
You are an exemplary inspiration
To a self made "beautiful human" rendition.
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 11:38 AM UTC
They tease and compel
Devouring into my ill eyes
Lurking beneath the wilting yellow
Murky black blends in with the night
She taunts in the lightness of the day
This bed dips a bit lower every day
In disturbed curiosity and jealousy
Goading a reaction of plea
Staring in unadulterated penance
Wellness improving with each interaction
Greedy to drink in the color
Eyes feast upon them
Dancing slyly in sync
Dripping in need and want
One waits to dance in my head
These chains are finally unlocked
Feet find purchase of the cold flat floor
Only exuberating the ugly drug
To tear the flesh of yellow off her skin
All the while, in a manic spree of glee
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 2:24 AM UTC
Gun bang
Lue kang kicked
Dah ***** licked
The master told the dog to sic
The grim reapers sickle slit
Duets made a hit
While a duo took a hit
Many lost in the song they sang along with
The rafters got lost out into the abyss
An exuberating sirens hiss.
The past are lessons that we cannot miss
A bomb on doomsday
Dudes slang
Right on the road ways
Were two slaves
Men lost in the trending lust craves
Brought about in repeating historic crusades
Who dat who dat?
Tonic getting poured
Cause were bored
Herb clouds speaking loud
Encore
Wondering how
I am still spellbound
Life goes on
Insecurities
Made from
The mind
Of man
We're slaves of
Ourselves and the sons of Sams.
Who roam hell.
One day we'll all work hard to get paid top dollar.
So every day is not about.
Huh??
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 2:53 PM UTC
I used to think...
Uncertainty
Was exciting.
Exuberating,
"The thrill of the unknown"
Some may say.
The thrill of your unknown.
Was addicting.
Like a sudden high,
From a dangerously addictive drug.
You know the ones.
That made you into a monster.
The ones that turned that my thrill of you,
Into a "please get me off this ride".
Into a "I'm going to throw up if I have to go through another loop".
The amusement park.
All fun and games for you,
Had some flaws in the design.
And I didn't want to put my hands in the air as I took another drop.
No, I put my hands in the air to surrender.
Because uncertainty
Is not thrilling
When my heart is a slippery piece of glass,
And you've let it fall far too many times.
The broken pieces can be put back together,
But the scars will always remain.
You say you'll hold on tighter next time,
Yet you never do.
If I have learned anything,
I have learned that your unpredictability
Romanticized by my naive heart,
Has deprived me of my own strength.
I have learned to take my glass heart
Out of your dubious care,
And childish amusement playground.
It is not a toy to be carelessly tossed around,
Picked up only for your entertainment.
But rather set upon a throne
Of admiration and dedication.
As long as these selfish games of yours continue,
Then there are two things that I know to be true:
I will always be certain of myself,
And always uncertain of you.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 12:47 AM UTC