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There is an image
Working to free my mind
From violent dawns
It probes at the backs of my eyes
It tells me I am prostituting myself
Here in my bedroom
In incestuous union with myself
I hallucinate and fantasise about
Doctors sons, butchers boys
Teenage thieves, deserters
Drug pushers, scandalous rent boys
Vagrants, pimps, prostitutes
And silk lingerie and don't care.
I sit destitute of thought
An insonce dissonance of macabre music
Playing out melodies of an image in my mind
BubbleZee Jun 2015
I want to know what kind of man you are beneath
the surface.
I want to understand what makes your heart beat faster
and what you love. What makes you mad, and why it has
that power over you.
I want to learn if your anger is hot and quick like mine, or
a lingering coldness that freezes those who invoke your
wrath. Do you forgive them when the red mist subsides,
or do you hold a grudge through all of eternity?
I wish I could know how you see me through those quiet
eyes of yours. I want you to tell me if you long to stroke
my hair as we drift off to sleep, or if it’s my curves that
your hands ache for. I wonder if you would message me
goodnight before bed, so that I would never close my eyes
without knowing that I was loved. Perhaps you would
expect my heart to know that already, simply by the way
your face lights up at the sight of mine.
What do you dream of when you close your eyes? Do you
sleep peacefully until the light dapples your skin through
the blinds, or do the tigers prowl around your head,
leaving you shivering in fear in the darkness?
When you are lonely, do you ever think about my smile, or
the way that I always know how to still the demons that
scream inside you? I wonder if I am still vivid in your
awareness, or a distant memory now; a spectre bathed in
the gentle lustre of nostalgia.
Do you chase sunsets or sunrises? I love both. Does the
promise of a shimmering new dawn appeal to you more
than the glow of another day closing in a riot of colour? I
wonder where peace finds you. Will you drink hot tea with
me as the sun blazes through the horizon, reminding us
of the fleeting nature of this life? I think I would like that.
I want to learn if you prefer the bright crackle of a
burning log fire, snuggled up in blankets against the cold,
or the way that the sun plays upon warm limbs, making
them glow golden in the afternoon light. Is it summer that
brings a smile to those lips I covet, or would you
rather turn your face up to taste the snowflakes as they
fall?
I watch to see if you curse the fact that you cannot get to
work in the snow, or if you roll up your sleeves joyfully to
build a snowman. And if you do, I notice whether you give
him a stone mouth so that he might smile upon the
children that wave as they pass him by.
Do you ever fantasise about losing yourself, out there, in
the world? Do you seek the quiet solitude of a wooden log
cabin on the edge of a lake, or do you prefer the lights
and glamour of cocktail dresses in a fancy room full of
raucous laughter?Where do you want to go? What do you
want to see?
Do you hear it when adventure calls out your name and
more importantly, do you answer?
I want to know where you hide, when the world becomes
too much to bear.
Where do you take your freedom?
Is there space for another in your haven, or can I follow
you only so far, then settle patiently to await your return
to me; the reunion all the sweeter for your absence.
See, I wanna know if you have hurt people. Did their tears
rain on your heart, each drop a sharp stinging torment? I
try to imagine if you wear a mask of hardness in the face
of another’s pain, or if you are gentle as you ask for
forgiveness. Do you bleed through another’s wounds?
Can you?
Tell me how you have broken someone you loved, and
whether you were able to fix them again. Did they love
you still when the pieces were put back together? What
horrors live in the bleakest corners of your soul? What do
you think about when you go there?
I want to know the very worst of you.
Share with me the music that plays in your heart, and
whether you dance to the beat of your own drum.
Show me the colour of your love. If you could splash its
brightness onto a waiting canvas, would it burn with
passionate reds and oranges, or would it run still and
strong in a cool turquoise calm?
Tell me if you kiss softly, your lips singing mine a gentle
lullaby, or whether they would rage intently,
scorching new pathways to my heart with a desire that
refuses be stilled. I want to feel it either way.
Show me if you want a sweet girl, or a ***** one. Or a
little of each. What makes you cry out in ecstasy? Is it a
woman that makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, or
one whose beauty takes your breath away with a single
look? Do you look for the quirky ones, perhaps? The ones
who are too easily overlooked, the hidden treasures?
Tell me, would you risk it all for love? Would you fight for
what you truly want, or would you let it slip away into
nothing, never knowing what might have been, because
you never told her that your heart beat only for her? Did
you ever realise she was waiting for you to fight for her?
Will you watch someone else love her because you were
too afraid to be vulnerable with her?
Will you settle for next best, the girl you could maybe
grow to love someday, instead of the one that haunts your
thoughts today? Is that enough for you? Maybe it is.
Could you live with yourself knowing that she got away?
Tell me about a time that you cried until you couldn’t
breathe anymore. Or where you lived through a day where
you prayed for the sweet release of death. Did you make
it through? I have been there. Has your heart been broken
into a million tiny pieces and, if it has, has it made you
hard? Or are you are still open to the beauty that the
world holds for you?
Show me your pain and I will show you mine. I hope it
does not scare you. It has helped me to grow.
I want to know if you talk to the glittering stars above us,
and which one is special to you. What do you think
happens when we die? Do we join their shining ranks in
heaven or is there nothing left for us? Are you afraid of
death? I am. Will you hold my hand if I leave you first? If
you whisper to me that love knows no boundaries, not
even death, will you mean it?
Tell me about your childhood. I want to know the way
your mother’s hair smelled when you crawled exhausted
into her lap, and the way your bedroom looked when you
were 10. Did your father cry when you curled a tiny fist
around his finger for the very first time? I bet he did. I
want to know all the people that you have loved
throughout your life, so that I might love them through
you and with you.
Do you write? Do you draw? I want to know whether you
ache to capture my face with your pencil, preserving the
wonder that lingers softly there. Do you like to express
yourself through words, or action best? Will your hands
illustrate your story as you speak and will I know that you
are lying from the way your lips tremble gently as the
words tumble guiltily from them?
What is your favourite book? Explain to me why it
enraptures you so. Please? It tells me a lot about you. I
love the way people cry when their favourite character
breaks their heart, as though they are an old friend to be
adored. Who is yours? I will seek them out and befriend
them to understand why they have moved you so much.
Lend me your secrets. I’ll keep them safe and I’ll return
them when my picture of you is complete. Whisper into
my ear so that only us two may share them. Do you
believe in magic? I do, now that I have met you.
Tell me your story, for it might well become part of my
story. Let me in. Let me see you. All of you.
I want to know you.*

-Jojo Roden
Snigdha Banerjee May 2016
Seventeen I Was ! Much  Stupid To Be Called Sane ! Yes like every other girl I too had a dream world where I was “Marzi Ki Mallika” the very thought of being matured haunted me & being a teenager you just can’t avoid the driving crazy adrenaline rush that you get when you fantasise stuff of being in love. My fantasies resulted in prettily adorable pieces of poems and bits of stories where A Boy fell in love with A Girl. I had dated my dreams since forever & it was amazing & what justifies this statement of mine is that they never disappoint ! talking to people knowing stories making new friends and sharing memories with old one’s that was indeed perfect to me ! I always tried to describe that perfectly adorable moment of falling in love in the best possible way I could fantasise ! Not too soon I realized that moment cannot be emphasised !

THAT MOMENT IS A CAPTURED MEMORY

Turned 23 Yay ! Loads Of Birthday Presents ! Wishes ! Hearty Felicitations ! etc etc 6 years passed since then & I remained the same still much stupid to be called sane ! Maa smiles while she still wakes me up in the morning saying Kobe Boro Hobi (when will you grow up). I giggle and hug her knowing not when !! I see the beautiful stock of my soft toys which helped me remain childish when suddenly my mirror reported about how messy my hair was ! OH GAWED maaa… my instant reaction was !

I was told love happens when matured ! I herd the same but fortunately dared not to believe ! Th0 I knowingly knew that dating a girl like me a guy will have to fall in love with my messed up stuff he needs to constantly date my love for 3a.m coffee & my craziness for maggi accompanied with coke ! My idiotic obsessions with vampire & songs of Nusrat & Kishore & perhaps tolerate the constant humming of those part of songs which I loved ! Questioned my self quiet frequently about will my love accompany me while I trek through the mighty mountains will he accompany me in my best moments of life will he even accept me the way I am !?? such questions did nothing but made me fall asleep which ended up in GOOD MORNINGS with Bournvita !

Usual mornings and unusual days thereafter ! mobile rings I ran to pick up the call it was none other than my beloved going to be husband AASHIQ

Good morning ! come lets plan out something crazy  ! Adrenaline rush  What About A Trek At Ladakh ! Readily agreeing to the proposal I said yes ! We drove together as I discovered his playlist matched mine ! with each passing moment I got the answers to much awaited stupid questions ! while I was unanswerable to his lone question why I had smiled while he drove ! We got down  amidst green surroundings   he picked up a piece of sugarcane and nervously began to chew on it as he was humming one of my favourite songs, He looked at me like I was the only **** thing that’ll ever matter to him looking constantly into my eyes he blurred out ILOVEYOU&WANTTOMARRYYOU;

I always valued crazy memories but this was the craziest one perhaps ! I started laughing unwantedly pointing at his face ! His front tooth had broken! He had been trying to be a stud only to impress me he tried to peel the sugarcane with his teeth & somehow ended up loosing the bottom part of his front incisor !

I Blushed later ! My face betrayed two expressions – Amusement & Shyness !

I Fell In Love Unknowingly Without A Parachute ! much madness was added when I couldn’t resist saying ILOVEYOU

His eyes met mine with a sparkle of mischief  AKHO AKHO ME PYAR HOGAYA

Committed !  Not Confused !

Start Of A New Journey Hands In Hands We Start Our Trek ! !
Bits Of Crazy Life
Ruthie Jun 2014
I swore to myself I wouldn't get too attached.
I promised myself I wouldn't fantasise about you.
I knew there were many many other beautiful girls.
But I didn't know you were so **** charming.
And now...
I think I may have fallen.
For that I am sorry.
See loving you is a mistake.
Letting you in was a mistake.
I made a mistake.
And for that I am sorry.

Because I can't stand the way you love her.
And her friends.
And me.
And my friends.

You can't love all those people because souls aren't made for groups. They're made for pairs.

And after you...

I don't think I can ever find someone else who I can wholly love that much ever again.
I want to say goodbye but I just don't know how
A story of Australian terms plants and wildlife. Ref 022
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An “Acrostic “poetic tribute to my darling girl
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip 4th October 2018.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A story of Australian terms plants and wildlife.

Six years in the making , it ended all too soon
Two oldies ,lost your husband I lost my wife
Oh you were so Australian n I a winging Pom
Reaching three score years and ten in life
You ‘d have to say “What were these guys on”

Oh it’s chemistry yes the chemistry was right
For t’was a no brainer , I knew I wasn’t wrong

A story of Australian terms plants and wild life
Under this Oz Angel,who tried to get me gone
Something clicked, I had to make her my wife.
That took a good six months to bring together
Racing up n down from Sydney to Melbourne
And we did the road trip up to Sydney to live
Loving the old Aussie towns on the route
In fact we had a year renting in Manley NSW
A story of Australian terms plants and wildlife
New words and phrases and broad humour

Terms like tucker and strine and wowser
Echidna ? that burrowing egg laying mammal
Ringtail possums sitting on the garden fences
Many ,varied and colourful birds in life abound
Some so vocal with a cacophony of sound.

Phil and Barbara born on different continents
Living seventy years on different continents.
And now coming together in a beautiful bond
Nothing to compare in a hundred n fifty years.
That’s the extent of our joint living years.
Segregated on two separate continents

An “ Acrostic” tribute to my darling girl.
Now having met by chance at a family party
Drawn together to form the ultimate affair

Would you not like to hear more about us?
I was scared to venture off the beaten track.
Like I am supposed to be talking nature
Dinkum is something genuinely honest
Love is honest , love is unconditional
I want to make this poem so very honest
Furphy gave rise to an unfounded rumour
Exactly ! Furphy was the early water carrier

An  “Acrostic “ tribute to my darling girl.
Now I know she deserves another tribute.

And I for sure will give it to my dearest one
Coolgardie safe for keeping food cool
Roo meat is tender if you keep it out the sun.
Ockers abound those matey unpolished males
Smoking away their lives in designated areas
These men are the salt of the earth,sociable
I would oft sit in the smoking area and blah
Conversations diverse But I don’t smoke.

Pavlova graces many a table covered in fruit
On the occasional meal out we may partake
Especially at our birthday anniversary treats
Those dates so special in our calendar
I remember June before last we made a trip
Coming over the beautiful Blue Mountains

The trip we made was to Bathurst in NSW
Reminiscing in the town of Barbara’s birth
I was enchanted by the fertile landscapes
Backblocks n outback. Remote country areas
Urgent that we found the ancient homestead
Then met Barbs cousin who still farms there
Even though  Seventy years had passed since

Turned out that he was orphaned as a child
Orphaned when his mother died in childbirth

My God, times were tough in those days.
Yet how I ramble? I should be teaching nature

Diligently I shall try to stick to the point.
A story of Australian terms plants and wildlife.
Ringtail possums possesses essential stoicism
Larrikin ? beware of that grog filled hooligan
It looks like a possum especially when drunk.
Now we were sometimes awakened by them.
Grog is the devils brew if VB is consumed

Grant me a moment of reflection to the finale
I got little to show for my poem of Nature
Rightly this is a tribute to my Darling girl
Let no man think I fantasise. This grief is real.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
Written by Philip. 4th. October 2018.
An Acrostic exercise
Sleepless K Aug 2013
I cant wait to speak to you now
To see your face
Your my home
Your what i know
And when i said i hated you
It wasnt true
But i do hate what youve done to me
I hate that i love you
A little bit
A lot
Now
Now when i feel crazy
And then actually
Then when i said i hated you, cos i was crazy, cos i love you, and thats what this love has done to me, made me crazy, an thats what i hate.
Oh and now
Because your away and i cant see you and feel you and make you laugh, i really want to make you laugh
And see your smile
And taste your lips
And make you ***
I fantasise daily
About how im gonna tie you up and make you *** the night you get back
In reality il probably be shy
But i have friends, i have hobbies, i have important **** to do for **** sake
But im sitting here, missing you
Writing this
Recording shows and films on the box for us to watch together when you get back
The notebook
We have to watch the notebook
And im fine
Dont get me wrong im fine, i get to sleep okay
And im chillin, seein people, might see matt this week, talking to didi an toe, seeing family
Im fine, please dont get a big ego
But im just not
Home
Im not tingly
Or excited
I cant explain it
I dont have you
I dont have you in my arms an sometimes that makes me sad
And then i start thinking about all the things that iv done wrong
And all these great things im gonna do when ur back
I am, im going to appreciate you more
And im going to play cool a bit more
Dont know how im gonna do both
But i am
Im gonna appreciate you because i want to,
Because i look back on this short time weve been together and so many things that you have done for me make me smile, make me so grateful and make me so happy. Like the cash machine one :) and staying at my house when i was at work, and being patient when i dont know what to wear(corfu and tims)
And all this makes me think, ****. What have i ever done for this boy
He is amazing and he loves me, **** knows why but he does and its insane
Oh and then im gonna play it cool, thats right
Im gonna play it cool because i dont want to ruin it
I dont want to show too much
Of my feelings of absolute passionate never-before-felt-like-this love!
And i dont want those nice things you do to stop
I dont want you to stop trying
Because its boring
Because you know youve got me
Got me ignoring other guys texts
Got me thinking about no one else but you
Got me absorbed in you
Got me missing you like crazy, writing stupid love notes at midnight, drinking rose on my own, when i havnt seen you for a mere two weeks
That kindov got me
Thats what you cant know
So im gonna miss you
But then im gonna see you
Soon
Soon im gonna wrap my whole body around yours like a vice
I wanna jump on you, i wanna run an jump when i see you like we used to do in the corridor of galbraith
Even tho i know im so heavy
You dont act like i am
And i wanna bury my head deep in your neck and kiss it
And now i cant write anymore
Cos its too much
So il watch kardashians
Take my mind of you
Not long now and il be home
I mean, you'll be home.
Not really a poem, more auto writing
Aria of Midnight May 2015
They wrap their arms
tightly around the other's
veined neck
clawing maniacally with
exposed teeth
and wild eyes.

a certificate;
their names as one,
ripped to shreds
but apparently
still valid.

and somehow,
when it's my turn,
I fantasise my arms
would lay limp
and his will, too.

But maybe
it's a glimmer of hope
of a candle in
interminable night--
wishful thinking.

Silly girl--
there is no romance
without menace.
Beinghonest Mar 2016
Sometimes,
I get cold as I lay in my bed -
And it hurts a lot...
Not being cold,
But the thoughts that my heart whispers to my mind.

Babe,
It's so lonely on those cold nights,
And I can't help but fantasise about wrapping my arms around your waist,
Whispering nonsensical confessions of love into your ear because my heart rate is too high, thus I can't sleep.
And resting my head on your shoulders and curling my body around yours when your warmth finally calms me down and your complaints ward off my attempts to irritate you.

Baby I wanna cuddle with you right now -
But it hurts having these thoughts,
Because you're not here
And well,
You're not mine...
And then I squeezed a pillow tightly and pretended it was her xD

-just being honest
Naomi Nov 2018
There are people who cannot speak without smiling.
There are people who cannot cry without blaming.
And there are songs I cannot sing without dancing.
And I sing you like a song I heard when I was young.
And I  love like I discovered the concept.
I want to teach you how.
How to feel...
How to sing...
The drizzle of rain hugs me.
The shadow of your eyes miss me...
I Want to sing you like a song I cannot dance to.
Oh my love, There are people who fantasise about freedom and then  slowly build the walls to their own prison.
lua May 2021
I like to fantasise
Romanticise
Every single part of my life
I like to walk through the streets
Wearing rose-tinted glasses
With little swirls of blue and gold
That engulfs each thing I touch and see
In rippling hues
Of pure fantasy and beauty
Even the trash along the sidewalks.
Amashi de Mel Sep 2015
As I pack my luggage
With posters, quotes of motivation
in my little black book of faith,
I tell myself I can.

Despite knowing that in no time
I embark on
Seclusion and loneliness-
On an ineffable ride of a Roller Coaster.

Taking my emotions for the longest ride
Through its loops, loops & loops
and it's ups and downs-
Making me sick. 

Sick with the thought of it being
Just only two weeks of a semester
With many more to complete,
Alone.

I fantasise daily, of when
life will stop controlling this and,
A day I could get out
And end this ride.
Dave Robertson Oct 2021
I rest in the quiet thoughts
that might involve tired arms
and unadorned hearts and faces

to fantasise boredom with you
is a new low/high to replace
my easy crippling everyday nowt

I currently know that
to fall asleep with you
unwashed and noisy tired
is all I think I need
We speak of living stars
of stars created by black holes
as if we correlate life such as ours
with theirs

we too come from stars
so why not let them be the creators
of the universe we know
for those that possibly exist outside our galaxy
are as yet to be discovered proved

we fantasise as we do those gods and devils
we fantasise other living parallel worlds to ours
out there beyond the reach of telescopes and flight
a million
no millions of millions of light years away

so far
that if we stretch our minds to understand  
our concentration falters
in the hedges of the labyrinth of our brains
this way of living we have made
gets in the way
beliefs and other odd ideas pollute the thoughts
we strain to see and yet we cannot see

Margaret Ann Waddicor 4th May 2016
Life is beautiful - and yet
life is strange
life is tantalising my mind
its elusive jumps and starts
give it an impetus
as I unwind from nature's wonderful excess
undress and offer myself - soon
not yet
I expect you're wondering
as I am too
what will happen if I do
we'll have to fantasise it
because - as yet - we haven't met

Margaret Ann Waddicor 19th January 2016
Wren Jun 2023
I will never be the same again.
But truly who ever was I?
The foundation never formed,
All there ever was – is mourning.
Died then revived.
Died and revived once again.
Continuously digging myself up from the grave.
A wraith amongst the dead,
I cannot rest because I have never truly lived.

Necromancy upon my soul,
A constant yearning to finally be whole.
A body covered in dirt and scars.
Yet I am determined to make it beautiful.
A heart full of spite, yet bursting with love.
An incautious desire to one day be enough.
I refuse to rest until I experience what real, safe human touch feels like.

Place a hand upon my sulphuric body.
I was once so afraid but now I am begging.
Please take it away, please tell me I am not *****.
I suppressed it all but now I'm overflowing.
I care not who you are, please just love me.
Lay me down amongst the green.
Put all your limbs on top of me.
Make imprints upon this rotten flesh,
until I can finally feel clean.

A body barren and hollow,
A body that only knows shame.
My bones are coated in it,
Words spewing it,
Tears pouring with it.
All I am is shame.

She used to smile so innocently when she was young.
With a laugh like a howling winds great bellow.
She would fantasise about her first love, I let her down.
Now I am screaming, snarling, spitting.
Resenting a world that I was foolish to trust.

Drive a stake through my heart,
I ask of you to wish me peaceful rest.
Hopefully this time I will not rise again.

Banished.
Heavy damange
Louise Apr 2014
I have the same questions
to my insignificant life
I allow myself to ask them
knowing they'll cut like a knife

Will they ever be answered?
I have so much doubt
most are the same questions
circling on a roundabout

These many cunning questions
are usually about those things
that often confuse me
and keep me questioning

Frequently they're ponderings
about things that 'just are'
many travel dangerously deep
the distance, too far

Apparently I'm not grounded enough
my Chakra tells me so
I drift off into fantasy
a world I'm not supposed to go

I need this precious place
to ponder many things
I like to fantasise
it's like having wonderful wings

To think about those questions
and the interferences in my life
wondering 'outside my bubble'
a space, like the dead of night

I can question my many thoughts
and my own troubled debates
or about my already written future
Do I trust too much in fate?

Who knows about these questions
they're as close as an annoying friend
I'll continue to spend my time questioning
until my days come to a questionable end
Ellie Elliott Mar 2019
she told me i should put my heart in a box and so i did
lined with alstroemerias and ever-closing eyelids
breeze rushing through hair thick with bleach and memories
blowing the dust of his handprints from the backs of my arms into the wind
first driving lesson dreaming of san diego sunshine
catch me outside in a year's time
lana del rey record playing in the 4x4
hand out the window california dreamin' eyes
ocean roaring far from my little 20 zone
i always did fantasise about being an optimist
never quite managed it
but she told me i should put my heart in a box and so i did
lined with alstroemerias and polaroid candids
and i still dream of sunshine and straight roads on a daily basis
even if i don't get to have all that i want and still get to be his
i've wasted too much of my life being bitter for me to feel the world's sweetness
but driving home under dusk could perhaps fix the rust while i'm sleeping
'cause on highways nothing's sad and nothing matters
even if the earth shatters, you just keep one eye on the dash and one in the sky
you can keep the speed, i'll keep the romance
rosy perfume surrounding me like a fortress
because she told me i should put my heart in a box and so i did
filled with old dreams filed under no longer relevant
and as much pain as i have felt i am lighter for it
can't help smiling as i reach for the coffee and start to pour it
I awaited naked on the bed
Waiting for the fireworks whilst
Fragrant jasmine clung to the air
My heartbeat hastened
Waiting for you to come
Chastened by my wanton ness
All the while awaiting you
Waiting to be cradled.

Elated by the night's promise
I sparkle in anticipation
Overstimulated I fantasise
Fireworks bang, clash and crash outside
Untranslated lust leave me and
The fireworks illustrated.

You, are finally here
My need to be consummated takes hold
You dominate my fire worked state of mind and nakedness
I shake and convulse like a sated rocket
Assassinated on the bed, we culminate
Wasted, elated
Blazoned lovers out animate
The fireworks.
© JLB
GM Oct 2015
There are so many ways to tell you I love you
but they have all been said before and the words less true.
Instead I'll tell you a story, an anecdote, if you will.
One in which I hope you will  find meaning.
Although the sentiment bears no embarrassment,
it may be a little revealing.
I've recently become obsessed with light.
I fantasise composition of sketches, I photograph flames contrasting their sinister shadows.
Oh, how light intrigues me!
A broad topic of fascination and awe, my thoughts scatter with wonder.
Yet, amidst this fantasy, I see you in every shade.
It's not that you are "the light of my life" or even "the light in the dark"; although I do see you in twinkles of a spark.
My love of light comes from a deep-rooted passion;
for finding combinations with enthusiasm.
How is it possible that light could affect mood?
Look at Rembrandt's etchings and you'll understand my point of view.
Light doesn't just enrich dark and vice versa.
Each subtle tone and shade compliment each other and reveal what another cannot.  
That is what you are,
you reveal the best light in me,
you are my favourite shade.
Arcassin B Jul 2016
By Arcassin B & Wendy


AB:  Spirits Are kind when you walk their way with virtue,
WS: Mysterious twinkles that ignite the soul within you,
AB: I tell myself time and time again to not stare directly
Right at you,
WS: Burning anothers heart with joy through and through,

WS:A depth transparency that trys so hard to hide your mysterious soul.
AB: I was afraid you'd show your face today , forever beautiful even
When your old.


/

AB:
As beautiful as the footsteps that Jesus takes turning Grass
Into gold,
I place my thoughts where they were,
Making memories as I crash through the barriers of
a corrupted Mind,
I use to fantasise about the color of her eyes,
Struggling to get attention from her God-fearing
Stature and appearance lacking of disfiguration
Turning all the heads of the football teams that
Practiced just to get a chance to impress her likeness
In a kind enough "I don't care as long as your a good
Person" type of attitude,
While still inside of my shell I just hope I find the
Exact words the stumble into her heart and her
Mind and her soul letting it behold in shiny colors
Bouncing off aluminum through my bold,
Moves,
Probably not worthy of her time,
Causing sins under the blue skies,
I got alot on my mind,
Don't want her alone like Caroline,
Just sending shivers down my spine,
Wanna pursue her with all ties,
You're thinking your cool , she will never go for that,
With those beautiful eyes.
©ABPoetry2016



http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/07/beautiful-eyes-3-ft-wendy-starryeyes.html
Culpoetry Nov 2013
Wasteful wallowing in a crumbling hollow dwelling
Obfuscating the obvious problems, scared from telling

A distracted dubious damnation,
I have craved temptation into
cramped every solitary sensation
and turned them to them sins, too.

So I fantasise, and rampantly
Agonise the logic in my mind
I dream of worlds without proportion
and engagements of moral absorption.
Til' I saturate my soul with images
of endless time and space.

In a stale solitary dimension
I weave tales of honorary mention
but forget their ascensions.

Broken wishes of impossible ambitions
With uncultural and isolated renditions
Of self-indulgent ordeals.

Brought upon by uncontrollable feels
and reeled beyond sense into the light
where my mind cannot be healed.
when we do meet
too nervous to embrace
we greet one another
with guarded eyes and
cleverly disguised emotion

we might have been lovers once
in reality we are old friends
with nothing in common
but the unacknowledged longing
that binds us close

at what cost, missed opportunity?
I can dream, I can fantasise
yet always, there is the uncertainty

if we had been lovers once
had lain naked in each others arms
what then?

would we be lovers still?
would we still be friends?
Ian Beckett Jan 2012
You lie in bed and close your eyes,
Your heart beats fast as you fantasise,
The restless feelings deep inside begin,
Hot as his fingers trace across your skin,
Over the hills and valleys his magic touch,
That exquisite burning fire you love so much,
Lips taste your passion wet musk perfume,
The urgent coaxing of the flower to bloom,
You lust on fire for him to take you over,
****** deep and bring you - oh so clever,
The thorns of pleasure - searing height,
As two are one and perfect is the night.
a Oct 2014
Recently,
i've noticed the way the sky dips itself into the trees at sundown
and the way the blue fades in with the anthracite so neatly
but so messily at the same time
and the way the backdrop refuses to be the same every day
because the clouds are always placed in different shapes
unlike the outlook of society
and the orange is then born, like magic as it blankets the earth
born out of red but there's always a bit of mustard to help
not pure blood, have some cheese
but then there's also those splashes of pinky-purple paint
or could it be squash, to help wash down the edam
foods that the popular despise
and it reflects so beautifully against the metallic of life
adding some colour to the regular plastic routine
that i admit to following
but that doesn't mean i don't conspire or want or fantasise or plan
about being the sky at sunset and succeeding, just more humane
i'm just much too cowardly to change
not only at sundown, at the day's end, but at sunrise, the wholly beginning
the sky has a fresh start everyday, a new meaning, a new reason
but i have none now
so, please, whoever controls me, whether it be me or a further omni-
allow to transform and become the early morning sky, or go to sleep and turn into that of the night
because no longer can i sit and watch the stunning backdrops
whilst so many people are falling further
the sky is new
Jiya Apr 2020
i dream about your lips...

...they look nice

pleasantly pink and supple
delectable even
i’m sure they’ll feel so wonderful
placed delicately upon mine

i indulge in the thought of your touch

(warm and safe)

curled up at your side
breathing you in
your scent unknown to me

something i’m eager to decipher

once i am released from this cage
i promise to devour you
every inch of your body
no secrets between our skin

and if you so choose


...no clothes either...


just pure ecstasy
produced by the entanglement
of unveiled bodies

and teen angst

i fantasise about love
and how we might make it
time and time again
beside the purest of touch

(a soft embrace)

never forgetting it began with a song
and grew with isolation
cultivating longing
strengthening our bond...

                                              

        ­                                                                 ­       ...good enough...




...until the day i can hold your hand
i haven't been very active on this site for a while until my emails started blowing up due to a poem I wrote way back in 2018 when i was 14! i hope now that i'm mere days away from 16 my poetry has improved and matured. i'm sure 14 year old me is giddy with excitement over the traction that poem has gotten over the past day or two.
Roo Feb 2017
(TW ****** abuse, suicide)

My body comes with a trigger warning,
to see me naked no longer
means the same thing.
I'm ugly. Scarred,
Both emotionally and physically.
I need help,
but I don't know how to reach out.
My voice has been silenced
by one too many men,
controlling, abusing, ruining.


Recently, the emotional pain I had been
rejecting when I remembered my ****
hit me all at once.
I couldn't breath, I couldn't see, I couldn't feel
anything except, well,
suddenly, the knot that never disappears from my chest
grew. Minutely at first, then it became more confident.
It knew it was taking over my body: my arms and legs and feet and fingers went paralytic, all I could hear was a ringing noise, raging in my ears.


Sometimes, I mix *** with death. Both seem like the ending to me. I'll fantasise about being dressed up for ***, I'll slide downstairs and seductively choose my lover. I'll debate over men, women and everyone else in between and outside, but I know from the beginning which I'll choose. I'll slink over to the knives and select the biggest and baddest I own. I won't shake, I won't back down. I can feel it sliding between the layers of my skin as we speak now, I can feel my body weakening.

I'm so tired, my friends. I've spent so many years fighting back and now all I want to do is sleep, forever.
Tyler Cobain Jun 2014
Well isn't this fun
Ain't it just a lot of fun?
Well ain't this fun to fantasise

I'm now a different person
In a melancholy instilling prison

Find me here I am!
Ambivalent as ever.

Should I stay or should I go
Insane?

Life is too short? Not short enough for some
I am broken, small and inconsequential
Like a long fortten crumb

The vision remains in my brain
The plague still tracks through my vain
**** it man I want to run and scream

Hello death and depression my partners in crime
Your berating words echo in my hollow chest
I try to give the world my best
But I've been killed by the sight of the rest
I'm in pain can't you see

Should I stay or should I go
Insane?

Aw **** it who am I kidding
I am the inane
Aw **** it who am I kidding
I am insane

The sad song follows me like a theme
I see pianos and violins convulse
In this true and hellish dream
Julie Grenness Sep 2015
Fantasies can be futile, but fun,
Better than fixations for some,
Fantasies are great for everyone,
When company at your side there's none,
Let's fantasise,
And visualise---
Impossible dreams my brain ran,
All over some intangible man,
Must believe in the invisible,
So not really credible,
But better than fixations for some,
Fantasies can be futile, but fun.
Bit of fun
Rhiannon Grace Aug 2015
I sit here
alone
I turn my music up louder
drown out the world
I go away
to the place inside my mind
let the world slip away
just for the moment
I'll entertain the idea
of a world without me
I'll fantasise
about the moment my life
slips into oblivion
for only a moment
I'll give everyone what they want

a world
without me.

— The End —