"exuberation" poems
The fury of time engulfs me
Gazing once more on its unabstracted velocity
Realize that time has no objective or subjective realization
Unexpectantly there is a shift of air that breezes about me
Like cool morning mist I allow it to cover me without expectation
A consequence of exuberation possesses my being
Like that of a vanquished dream
I crave its succulent softness
It surrounds me and hovers
Its pulse evaporating in my mind
Then in ecstatic euphoria pearlesque ribbons hit the wall
Melt on my hand dripping like silken spangles
Filling my room with antiquated resolution
Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 11:24 AM UTC
he, perched upon,
the swing's
seat.
like
a little bird, just,
waiting,
waiting,
for some-one to,
give him a gentle push.
and then he could arc,
back and forth,
by himself,
and
fly up into the clouds.
laughing in joyful
fear,
and exuberation.
but,
until then, he perched,
waiting,
waiting.
dreaming, of unfettered
flight.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 12:49 AM UTC
What was that?
Was it...
Frustration,
Infactuation,
Intimidation,
Humilation?
Complaints of misinformation,
Fever from inoculations,
Bully pulpit installations,
Social media revelations,
Orange crush situations,
Closed minded stagnation,
Radical simulations,
or that crazy armed insurrection.
It might be
a division of the population
Then it could be a
celebration,
an exuberation,
coronation,
an inauguration?
Complaints of tempation,
Riveted attempts of execution,
Attacks of verbal accusations,
Wall Street inflation,
Crossing the border examinations,
A presidental hibernation,
Constant constipation
or divisive communication?
In the end it was just
a very confused and crossed
democratic election!!!
Nov 17, 2024
Nov 17, 2024 at 2:28 PM UTC
What is love?
Love causes hate. Love ignites us to discriminate between dream and real. Make us feel like we ain’t worth **** Throw a fit. Get lit.
Love is resentful. Eventful. You fight only to make up but live through threat of break-up. You fight for love and love to fight. It helps everything feel right. Is that love? Don’t ask me. I can’t judge you and your story. But I can dream and I can feel.
What is love?
I ask, what isnt? Is it just me? Can it be, that my family is marching towards eternity while I evade and fade into the distance? Did I miss it? Am I uplifted?
My mind wanders while my head ponders and the thought never leaves.
You asked what is love? I said, what isn’t? It’s a tree in the distance. It’s a wedding ring on clearance. It’s big. It’s small; makes us fall head over heels. Makes us feel what’s real. Makes you think a different way. Makes you stay who you are. Not far from love but far from fear. What is love, my dear? Love is shared. Love is felt deeply, though the path treads steeply.
No rectification is beyond justification. If you feel exuberation, manipulation is beyond contemplation.
You get it?
You asked What is love? I told you what isn’t. Though underneath you, you never knew. The feelings felt were unexplainably true.
You asked What is love? You already knew. What, is love.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC