"exulting" poems
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
22.7k
Schizoaffective bipolar type is hell’s disorder.
It is a whirlwind of the curious mind.
A fusion of emotions, brick by boring brick.
Thoughts askew and twisted like twigs.
Mania, depression, and psychosis sleep together.
Producing a break out of pandemonium.
Exulting energy, dejection, and voices taunt.
A battle within that seems to haunt.
Medication and therapy, tools of aid.
Will tackle hell’s disorder and put it in Pandora's box.
Be wary and do not open it no matter what.
Or the symptoms will crawl over every inch of your skin.
Put the pain in the past because you can still live your life.
You can work a 9 to 5, go on hikes, travel, and ride a bike.
What is something you look forward to? They always ask.
I sigh and answer: freedom.
Aug 24, 2022
Aug 24, 2022 at 1:23 PM UTC
I keep such music in my brain
No din this side of death can quell;
Glory exulting over pain,
And beauty, garlanded in hell.
My dreaming spirit will not heed
The roar of guns that would destroy
My life that on the gloom can read
Proud-surging melodies of joy.
To the world’s end I went, and found
Death in his carnival of glare;
But in my torment I was crowned,
And music dawned above despair.
2.7k
Through airy roads he wings his instant flight
To purer regions of celestial light;
Enlarg’d he sees unnumber’d systems roll,
Beneath him sees the universal whole,
Planets on planets run their destin’d round,
And circling wonders fill the vast profound.
Th’ ethereal now, and now th’ empyreal skies
With growing splendors strike his wond’ring eyes:
The angels view him with delight unknown,
Press his soft hand, and seat him on his throne;
Then smilling thus: “To this divine abode,
“The seat of saints, of seraphs, and of God,
“Thrice welcome thou.” The raptur’d babe replies,
“Thanks to my God, who snatch’d me to the skies,
“E’er vice triumphant had possess’d my heart,
“E’er yet the tempter had beguil d my heart,
“E’er yet on sin’s base actions I was bent,
“E’er yet I knew temptation’s dire intent;
“E’er yet the lash for horrid crimes I felt,
“E’er vanity had led my way to guilt,
“But, soon arriv’d at my celestial goal,
“Full glories rush on my expanding soul.”
Joyful he spoke: exulting cherubs round
Clapt their glad wings, the heav’nly vaults resound.
Say, parents, why this unavailing moan?
Why heave your pensive bosoms with the groan?
To Charles, the happy subject of my song,
A brighter world, and nobler strains belong.
Say would you tear him from the realms above
By thoughtless wishes, and prepost’rous love?
Doth his felicity increase your pain?
Or could you welcome to this world again
The heir of bliss? with a superior air
Methinks he answers with a smile severe,
“Thrones and dominions cannot tempt me there.”
But still you cry, “Can we the sigh borbear,
“And still and still must we not pour the tear?
“Our only hope, more dear than vital breath,
“Twelve moons revolv’d, becomes the prey of death;
“Delightful infant, nightly visions give
“Thee to our arms, and we with joy receive,
“We fain would clasp the Phantom to our breast,
“The Phantom flies, and leaves the soul unblest.”
To yon bright regions let your faith ascend,
Prepare to join your dearest infant friend
In pleasures without measure, without end.
2.5k
You, photo sharing
pop-up rhymester
a one-day glory
for a full-time jester?
is that all you’ve got?
exulting in adulation
of ‘up thumb’ display
painstaking toil
for a chirpy convey
much bother for naught
go away from that evil
a rectangular cage
a duality so curbing
too daunting to assuage
surely, not asking a lot!
banter a bit, out of the cage
break her reckless grind
a cursed double-life
no cage to hide behind!
it wasn’t what she thought!
mother’s day isn’t just a day
it is your lifetime, borrowed
moment by moment
nourished and hallowed
a vicarious life – don’t let it rot!
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 8:06 AM UTC
A disappointment I had a few
A setback or two has come around to me
But
When it comes to love
I am just two left feet in the wrong shoes
Falling stumbling just plain tongue tied
Leaving me……
Chasing pavement
Am I bound seeing thru these rose colored glasses
I persist no insist on wearing
Love being so exulting
Just leaves me exhausted
Falling in love I persist no insist on
Chasing pavement
I want to believe that hurt aint around the corner
But I am gonna believe
For now
Cause I am falling fast and hard I can love with a pure heart
This maybe a fresh start
Even if I get torn apart
I will enjoy this ride
Get all the chills have all the thrills
That your love offers me
Here I go all over again
Chasing pavement
Cut and bruised
From love’s gentle touch
Feeling abused
Sometimes used
I go ……chasing pavement
I have my arms open
To embrace it all
Eyes wide shut
Ready able no matter what
Yelling at the top of lungs
My declaration of devotion
For that rollercoaster ride
Called love
Chasing pavement with abandonment and joy
I am waiting
I have my many doubts
Well maybe just a few
Here I am
Falling
Flying
Feeling
My guards down and out
Chasing pavement
In love with………You
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
1.
Man rising to the doom that shall not err,--
Which hath most dread: the arouse of all or each;
All kindreds of all nations of all speech,
Or one by one of him and him and her?
While dust reanimate begins to stir
Here, there, beyond, beyond, reach beyond reach;
While every wave refashions on the beach
Alive or dead-in-life some seafarer.
Now meeting doth not join or parting part;
True meeting and true parting wait till then,
When whoso meet are joined for evermore,
Face answering face and heart at rest in heart:--
God bring us all rejoicing to the shore
Of happy Heaven, His sheep home to the pen.
2.
Blessed that flock safe penned in Paradise;
Blessed this flock which tramps in weary ways;
All form one flock, God's flock; all yield Him praise
By joy or pain, still tending toward the prize.
Joy speaks in praises there, and sings and flies
Where no night is, exulting all its days;
Here, pain finds solace, for, behold, it prays;
In both love lives the life that never dies.
Here life is the beginning of our death,
And death the starting-point whence life ensues;
Surely our life is death, our death is life:
Nor need we lay to heart our peace or strife,
But calm in faith and patience breathe the breath
God gave, to take again when He shall choose.
1.8k
Pearls bleed from the pores of my skin
sparks dance where your fingers touch
the ocean neath my lashes hides in ecstasy
the sun melts in the heat of our familiarity
the mist of my yearning deepens into a ravaging wave
your burning desire surmounts the effect of haoma
a delineation of this moment weakens my knees
I clasp the air and feel the hiemal wind chime
my mind bears a simulacrum of your perfection
exulting in the reminiscence of a beau ideal
when you whisper you will be back soon
my eyes close to annul our distance too defined
turning my heart jocund, my senses sublime.
Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 12:59 PM UTC
HE stood among a crowd at Dromahair;
His heart hung all upon a silken dress,
And he had known at last some tenderness,
Before earth took him to her stony care;
But when a man poured fish into a pile,
It Seemed they raised their little silver heads,
And sang what gold morning or evening sheds
Upon a woven world-forgotten isle
Where people love beside the ravelled seas;
That Time can never mar a lover's vows
Under that woven changeless roof of boughs:
The singing shook him out of his new ease.
He wandered by the sands of Lissadell;
His mind ran all on money cares and fears,
And he had known at last some prudent years
Before they heaped his grave under the hill;
But while he passed before a plashy place,
A lug-worm with its grey and muddy mouth
Sang that somewhere to north or west or south
There dwelt a gay, exulting, gentle race
Under the golden or the silver skies;
That if a dancer stayed his hungry foot
It seemed the sun and moon were in the fruit:
And at that singing he was no more wise.
He mused beside the well of Scanavin,
He mused upon his mockers: without fail
His sudden vengeance were a country tale,
When earthy night had drunk his body in;
But one small knot-grass growing by the pool
Sang where -- unnecessary cruel voice --
Old silence bids its chosen race rejoice,
Whatever ravelled waters rise and fall
Or stormy silver fret the gold of day,
And midnight there enfold them like a fleece
And lover there by lover be at peace.
The tale drove his fine angry mood away.
He slept under the hill of Lugnagall;
And might have known at last unhaunted sleep
Under that cold and vapour-turbaned steep,
Now that the earth had taken man and all:
Did not the worms that spired about his bones
proclaim with that unwearied, reedy cry
That God has laid His fingers on the sky,
That from those fingers glittering summer runs
Upon the dancer by the dreamless wave.
Why should those lovers that no lovers miss
Dream, until God burn Nature with a kiss?
The man has found no comfort in the grave.
1.7k
We trace the pow’r of Death from tomb to tomb,
And his are all the ages yet to come.
’Tis his to call the planets from on high,
To blacken Phoebus, and dissolve the sky;
His too, when all in his dark realms are hurl’d,
From its firm base to shake the solid world;
His fatal sceptre rules the spacious whole,
And trembling nature rocks from pole to pole.
Awful he moves, and wide his wings are spread:
Behold thy brother number’d with the dead!
From ******* freed, the exulting spirit flies
Beyond Olympus, and these starry skies.
Lost in our woe for thee, blest shade, we mourn
In vain; to earth thou never must return.
Thy sisters too, fair mourner, feel the dart
Of Death, and with fresh torture rend thine heart.
Weep not for them, and leave the world behind.
As a young plant by hurricanes up torn,
So near its parent lies the newly born—
But ’midst the bright ehtereal train behold
It shines superior on a throne of gold:
Then, mourner, cease; let hope thy tears restrain,
Smile on the tomb, and sooth the raging pain.
On yon blest regions fix thy longing view,
Mindless of sublunary scenes below;
Ascend the sacred mount, in thought arise,
And seek substantial and immortal joys;
Where hope receives, where faith to vision springs,
And raptur’d seraphs tune th’ immortal strings
To strains extatic. Thou the chorus join,
And to thy father tune the praise divine.
1.7k
Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
Their snow-white blossoms on my head,
With brightest sunshine round me spread
Of spring’s unclouded weather,
In this sequestered nook how sweet
To sit upon my orchard-seat!
And birds and flowers once more to greet,
My last year’s friends together.
One have I marked, the happiest guest
In all this covert of the blest:
Hail to Thee, far above the rest
In joy of voice and pinion!
Thou, Linnet! in thy green array,
Presiding Spirit here to-day,
Dost lead the revels of the May;
And this is thy dominion.
While birds, and butterflies, and flowers,
Make all one band of paramours,
Thou, ranging up and down the bowers,
Art sole in thy employment:
A Life, a Presence like the Air,
Scattering thy gladness without care,
Too blest with any one to pair;
Thyself thy own enjoyment.
Amid yon tuft of hazel trees,
That twinkle to the gusty breeze,
Behold him perched in ecstasies,
Yet seeming still to hover;
There! where the flutter of his wings
Upon his back and body flings
Shadows and sunny glimmerings,
That cover him all over.
My dazzled sight he oft deceives,
A brother of the dancing leaves;
Then flits, and from the cottage-eaves
Pours forth his song in gushes;
As if by that exulting strain
He mocked and treated with disdain
The voiceless Form he chose to feign,
While fluttering in the bushes.
1.6k
It is you whom I love today. I love you with all my loves.
Frida Kahlo
screaming gold and exulting light
I betrayed the sunset today
still life without promises the city
there comes that tone again
in the storehouses of flesh
where life dreams itself
you’ve colonized me
with hate and desire
unstable tempo
my eyes blind
like a storm without wind
I disfigured some light today
its unpretended beauty
no paradox
not even a surprise
I fall for these wounds, your burden
the taste of failure
the panic of not knowing
the trembling of your feet
no need for signifying something
for an ending or a touch
there is love without desire
desire without love
you can call me crazy
if this is all
you can say
at the end of the day
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
Your body was a sacred cell always,
A jewel that grew dull in garish light,
An opal which beneath my wondering gaze
Gleamed rarely, softly throbbing in the night.
I touched your flesh with reverential hands,
For you were sweet and timid like a flower
That blossoms out of barren tropic sands,
Shedding its perfume in one golden hour.
You yielded to my touch with gentle grace,
And though my passion was a mighty wave
That buried you beneath its strong embrace,
You were yet happy in the moment's grave.
Still more than passion consummate to me,
More than the nuptials immemorial sung,
Was the warm thrill that melted me to see
Your clean brown body, beautiful and young;
The joy in your maturity at length,
The peace that filled my soul like cooling wine,
When you responded to my tender strength,
And pressed your heart exulting into mine.
How shall I with such memories of you
In coarser forms of love fruition find?
No, I would rather like a ghost pursue
The fairy phantoms of my lonely mind.
1.5k
From the brake the Nightingale
Sings exulting to the Rose;
Though he sees her waxing pale
In her passionate repose,
While she triumphs waxing frail,
Fading even while she glows;
Though he knows
How it goes--
Knows of last year's Nightingale
Dead with last year's Rose.
Wise the enamoured Nightingale,
Wise the well-beloved Rose!
Love and life shall still prevail,
Nor the silence at the close
Break the magic of the tale
In the telling, though it shows--
Who but knows
How it goes!--
Life a last year's Nightingale,
Love a last year's Rose.
1.4k
She walked with me
Joined me in my laughter
Bowed with me in gratitude
Cried for the wanton desire
She romanced me
Torrid, exulting
She followed me
Slow, shadowy, bouncy too
My destiny
My birth-mate
Death
The only one who never left my side
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 2:59 AM UTC
O Madiba! My Madiba! by Walt Whitman (changing the word Captain for Madiba)
1
O Madiba! my Madiba! your fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize you sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Madiba lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
2
O Madiba! my Madiba! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Madiba! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
3
My Madiba does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Madiba lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Hi all and hope you are all well, haven't posted anything for a while but today I felt that this poem by the great Walt Whitman could pay tribute to one of my life long heroes Madiba or Nelson Mandela.
I hope Walt Whitman wont mind me substituting Madiba for Captain but his beautiful Poem which he wrote after the Death of his great hero of Abraham Lincoln just fits the occasion at least I think so!. Hope you all like it.
Best wishes to all Tom.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 9:07 AM UTC
Bliss.
A
chamber
orchestra
exulting -
with
football
results
coming
in
over
a
silent screen.
Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 7:13 PM UTC
Like valleys in a desolate wasteland bear the skeletons of water
and the tundra is envious of the desert that's regrettably hotter,
these scars show where blood used to flow
and remember the life in a cave leaking tears down below.
My veins are an ardent irrigation system
That try to forget that I ever missed him, kissed him, and dissed him
and wish that I had thrown a fist at him and ****** him off.
The life from my blood is putrid and lucid and trying to rid
itself of hidden embarrassment sleeping amid a bed of emotions about to burst.
Let it dampen your thirst and immerse itself in this sobbing flood.
I need a well to siphon all of my blood back into my veins
and to feel less insane and less hopefully vain,
you're the bane of my tears and the bane of my main fears.
Humanity is persisting with an impossible dream
that seems to tease me, tearing my seams and threatening the steams of my inner hot springs to bring this kingdom down into the ground remembering nothing.
Embezzling these dreams from the hopeless lovers and the luckless lovers and foolish and moronic and simple-minded lovers.
So wait with me for the monsoon of dust because I must not wait in solitude waiting for my crowded heart to spontaneously combust.
The darkness for once is a beacon, meek and a freakin' immature fawn
exulting in our fictitious devotion, crying from it's eyes
bathing in the tears crying from the skies,
and mourning through our veins and dreaming in the morning in pain.
I'm hosting a caucus for flirtation but you're the only one invited.
We're a landscape of brutal simplicity.
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 10:21 PM UTC
Gaze into a persons eyes,
far beyond the mask
and wonder at the questions
that you’re too afraid to ask.
Gloriously gazing
into depths of deep emotion,
currents running deep
within a cool and placid ocean.
Dive into the loving soul
of one who gives their all
and marvel at the feelings
that are waiting for the call.
Deliberately diving
into strong rolling waves
risking all you have to give
for a lover, to save.
Drift along on the gentle flow
of loves deep warming spring,
exulting at the warm embrace
that begs your soul to sing.
Dreamily drifting
in waters that refresh
you feel its teasing touch
upon your warm and tender flesh.
Swim far out to distant pools
and reach the hearts horizon,
wells of clear compassion
and a strength that’s so surprising.
Sensuously swimming
and content for evermore,
at peace with the heart and soul
of the one that you adore.
...
Melt into a soul-mates sweet
and tender smiling eyes,
never again will you feel the need
to wonder how or why.
All you see within those pools,
is all you could desire,
together let your souls fly free
and set the breeze on fire.
Let your hearts set the rhythm,
beating beneath the sun,
as songs of love and joy ring out,
new life has just begun.
*
Written by Darren Scanlon, 23rd June 2014.
Revised 11th August 2015.
©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 1:13 PM UTC
I never saw it coming
I never dreamt it would be like so
The day was like no other
Boring, mundane and so
But then you suddenly came
And barged through the metal doors of
My caged but fragile heart, being, and soul
I was taken aback and overwhelmed by it all
Your wit, intellect and exuding aura
Dragged me further in
Every moment with you was special
It made me feel ecstatic, cheerful, and exulting within.
I thought you were the one
The one who would finally see through me
See through this facade
That I would always put on replay
Days and nights you occupied my dreams
I thought I was falling for you
And I thought you the same way too
But then I realized
How can a person like you
Ever like someone like me?
By that time I was heartbroken
By a simple “happy crush”
I felt so foolish
I felt so naïve
I drowned myself in sorrow and tears
It killed me every time to know
That you were always there
But you never seemed to talk to me
Even if I was dying to talk to you
I know there is someone else
Inside that heart of yours
And that pained me even more
All that I could say to myself was
"You're not missing out on him.
For all you know, he's the one missing out on you".
But deep down I knew,
That wasn't true
And the worse part of it all –
This whole act the tore me apart
This entire drama that kills me every time inside
Was all unconsciously done
And for that, I say “bravo”
You Unsuspecting and Unconscious Murderer
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 4:44 AM UTC
Thy unimaginable wings,
Where dwells the breath of all persisting stars,
Come back to me.
Please.
You left me so suddenly
So soon…
Too soon.
Your exulting soul sank into mine with each embrace.
Forever imprinted will I be.
Forever scarred will I stay.
With all persisting stars,
You belong with me,
And forever I with thee.
[help with e.e.cummings]
Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 5:32 PM UTC
Spirituality sparks from within,
Love rejuvenates from depth,
Eyes drown and sink,
From beginning to end,
My heart yearns for you,
We connect through engaging eyes,
Your touch, Celeste and blazing,
Radiating and driving me crazy,
What is it about that touch?
It excites me so much,
My body experiences changes when you caress,
That touch so exulting that it leaves me wanting more.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 6:50 AM UTC
I have tried to give birth to a new and improved version of my vision
Exulting blips of exactitude and ambition
Flashes of pretension on a screen of pending dreams
Lacking mobility and projection
Inertia writhes
I'm mainly advertising trying to sell and intrigue
To those who have enough eloquence to persuade my predilection and schemes
Endorsing me providing lifelines and pure consciousness
Lacking the force of extorted themes and exulting worthiness
Cleansing my mind of the mocking bird's trash heap
Help me dissemble the falsified declarations and professions of fiends
I want to be pristine
I beg thee to teach and galvanize me
Endowing me with inexorable sight
Keeping me keen and full of bold might
I am willing to fight
Bring me to the surface of these turbulent seas
No need to mention my frailties and anxieties
All I ask is a breath from the surface of true realities
The urgency constrains my needs for rejuvenation and appreciations
For all those little beautiful things that once meant the world to me
Like pink carnations
Sleeplessness morphs into spells of insomnious hauntings
Stunting my contractions
It's completely and utterly exhausting
A labor deprived of true initiative and wanting
It may sound silly but everything is contradictory
It is these pains that leave me incomplete, ineffectual, and in paralyzing omission
Excluded and feeling great depths of oppression
Despairing and kept in solitary confinement
Suffering more than I'd like to profess
Distressing the matters that cave into my chest
An infiltration of insurmountable anguish
Abolished
Untouched by a shoulder or hand of accommodation
Is it selfish to push for this magnitude of isolation?
I crave cultivation
I want to grow into the Giant Sequoia
But the fires of self doubt leave my branches in ruins
Smoke signals sending sirens
A constant affliction
It's all my own doing
Contingency pleading for nourishment
Somehow knowing thee and ye could constitute for something of legends
Tell that to our reflections
Or maybe it's the fear of fire that terminates our pregnancy
Causing us to introvert instead of projecting
Withholding both you and I from mastery
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
Powdery blue
And beautiful too
Dramatically vast
Nature’s wishes last.
Cotton is in place
Moving at a steady pace
Creating shapes and visions
Imagination’s mission.
By day be serene
By night be exulting
Those sparkles so clear
Twinkle quite near
To that mother so bright
It’s a glorious sight.
Forever will it pass
It’s beauty’s sure to last
Every time it seems like new
When we see this navy blue.
By night by elation
By day by serenity
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 4:00 PM UTC