"fascinated" poems
*i always imagine you so very graceful
through the masochists ordeal
a god form of supplication
seeing your face
in love
fascinated by shimmering kisses
that hurt, yet please
wet lips and sharp teeth
glamors that excite
cold blade licks dragged across
tender bellies
naval
buttocks
and flexed toes
stinging
then radiating outwards
wounds become lilies
mouth *******
tremulous weeping kisses
ecstatic cruelties
blood glitter sacrifice
your supplication
love pangs
i'm shaking apart over you
your countenance
a cascading dream
moved to tears of adoration
your limitless
yielding
like surrenders caress
an infinite communion
with fragile limbs
silky wrapped spools
innerness of desire veiled in a shroud
a faltering star that glistens crimson
nymph of purgation
ash volcanic
cells en-flamed with tongues that bite
subsumed in scented vapors
a confection of **** and ***
waves embrace ineffable shores
passed the discontinuity of life
I have the most immense feeling of love for you
am i not
the saint death
quietly following you
through life's labyrinth
innocuous
waiting humbly in the wings
i am all ache for you
a vice of kisses
a brief encounter
that eats your sight and senses
ushering you to immortal freedom
a swooning garland of fire that enlivens
the body electric
a mist of molecules
your tears intoxicate
i am new life with in you
budding embryo
that consumes its mother for nourishment
and saturates like dew drops
as it echoes through oblivion*
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
The gods in the sky they quiver in fright,
because you're the most beautiful right here tonight.
They sit there in awe, in a fascinated state
while I hold you so closely knowing you are my date.
We stood there and danced to the songs that we knew,
while I told you so sweetly that I'll always love you.
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 2:14 AM UTC
when does the night become us?
at what moment is the soul raised to the sky?
death, say some
and some ask why
the stars are dead,
and because we watch them miles and miles from where they rest
we are still fascinated by
these flames that hang in shapes and forms that make up our night sky
but what if our night sky is really not made up of bones?
if the stars don’t dwell on our dead bodies or take pride in a corpse,
I would in fact believe that
the sky does make up your soul
I do believe your heart's the moon
and constellations map out your veins
so when they ask if our souls look down from above,
I'll say I'll ask when I see you again
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 9:39 AM UTC
We gaze at sunsets.
Fascinated by their beauty,
but we know they fade.
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 7:10 PM UTC
I am a mother, a wife
A friend, a teacher
I seek happiness
I love deep
Only souls not faces
Always loyal
I don't judge
I love to help
I see good in everyone
Which makes me naive at times
I am open to all
Hoping for a world
Where everyone fits
Labels don't exist
I latch to rules
Anxiety demands
I suffer from OCD
Always chasing order
Shackled by disinfection
I am comfortable in control
Leading the way
I seek to inspire
I believe in others
I am honest with my feelings
I value experience
And learn from them
I reflect on my day
Always trying to improve
I search for meaning in conversations
Enjoy learning new things daily
I play sports
Love music
Enjoy Art
Express myself in writes
Fascinated by abstracts
Reading words to gain insight
The grace in movement
The beauty in visual artistry
I love to re-discover nature
The acoustics of birds
Waterfalls and rain
Kissing falling snow
Connecting with our majestic sky
I love the stillness
Each morning brings
The dew sleeping in the emerald
The lacquered canvas
Of quiet lakes
Motionless
In something so vast
Yoga is my philosophy
A healthy
Body
Mind
And spirit
My destination is
The pursuit of enlightenment
In my life's pain
I am coming out of the spiral
Enjoying my journey
Seeing straight
Swimming the unalome
I feed my soul
Hoping IT can lead me
Leaving my ego in my wake
I remain unfinished
I continue to wear masks
Sometimes to hide
As I fear rejection
Still..
As happy as I seem
As lovely as I am
My soul has a shadow
Hidden inside
My essence traced
By shaded light
I am a survivor
Broken in places
Finally accepting my true self
Jl 2016
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC
To the niqab girl whom I met in Cagaya De Oro City
You were in front of me as we waited in line for hours
We smiled first politely and then we began to talk,
We Shared different insights in almost everything:
Your face veiling practice in Islam fascinated me
My headcovering as Christian piqued your curiosity
Conversations turned to fashion, extremism, and Filipinos,
You saw my face and I saw your beautiful eyes
Yet we never asked each other's names or Facebook accounts,
We were different yet somehow we mirrored each other;
Different religions yet linked by passion to serve God
Different ethnicity and language yet tied by nationality.
It's been weeks since the Marawi siege and I think of you
Hoping that every niqab girl I see in Iligan is you
We were strangers that rainy afternoon of June 2016
Yet I grieve for your loss - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Words are not enough to comfort you sister of the stars but
May your Allah guide and protect you in these times
May my Jesus cover you with His precious Holy blood,
To the niqab girl whom I met in Cagayan De Oro City
Perhaps we'll never see each other again in the future but
Thank you for letting me see the beauty of cultural diversity
And that coexistence is possible if we have open minds
And living in harmony is attainable if we open our hearts.
Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 6:04 AM UTC
i want you
in every way there is to want a person
from lazy rainy days
sitting around in underwear
wrapped up in the covers
enveloped in each other
to lustful late nights
high happy and in love
too absorbed with each other
to focus on anything else
i want you
and i see so much in you
that counting all your perfections
would be like counting the stars
there's too many to keep track of
and they just seem endless
i am utterly in love
with every inch of your being
every corner of your mind
and everything in between
i might not know what i believe
or where i'm going
or what i'm doing
but i do hope
you'll hold my hand
and wander blindly with me
because as long as i'm with you
i don't need a destination
you are the journey
i am simply enamored with your entity
captivated by your character
fascinated
infatuated
amorous
in love
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
My love for you is complicated.
Sometimes you make me so aggravated,
while other times I'm just fascinated.
You are always so close to me.
They make me wish we could just be free
and from this world, we flee.
It's as if you make me want to want you.
I have no clue
what to do.
Just you are my one and only
Even if you make me feel so lonely.
But is our love just phony?
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
*See the show is over, behind the red curtain you can't see me cutting up my fingers using my blood and tears to pick up what's left of my heart. We're done, been done…we were over before we could start. Some ***** you are....some ***** filthy, manipulative, sneaky, overbearing, cold hearted, insensitive, ***** of a ***** you are. Some ***** you are….some charming, loveable, selfless, funny, intelligent, creative, artistic, handsome, good **** slangin'……perfect man you are. Prince Charming, you used your sword, on the one you for swore, that you'd love me till and beyond the day that I'm dead. Unfortunate mistakings……burn me at the stake, but first it's off with my head. Charming and flirtatious, so easy to fall in love……but it's being so charming and flirtatious that's got me trying on OJ's gloves. I'm the witch and you're the townspeople secretly fascinated but you'll never say. I'm still in love with you, let's just swallow our pride and give each other's the time of day. I'm still your weakness, you believe I'm that gullible and I don't know at all……because I stuck my pin through your Voodoo corpse right in the heart, and then you gave me a call. I heard the sorrow in your voice and I know you sensed my tears, with the so unslick cracks in my voice and sniffles flooding your ears. I'm yours, and you're mine, last time I said it was the last time……but you're the love of my life and even if we're not together that'll last a lifetime.*
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
The right winter
for dope and ice
for walks along the river route
home
The right winter
for arctic pin-prick wind
holes in boots
turquoise dress coat
far too thin
for walks along the river
But The Merrimack couldn’t find her way
when fabric moguls migrated south
Fascinated by nylon nasties
they traded their silks and cottons
for those petro-polyesterdays
While she—
could no more manufacture life
than mint their money
So, they blamed her
Pronounced her—“Dead”
Decried her *****
Now—
She wanders sadly under bridges
stopping to eddy in an overhang of birches
In dank canals, I found her sleeping
angered only at the falls
Poor outcast!
with current edge she splinters light
from cities sadder still
retching her oily stench
past Plum Island
into the sea— into me
What’re a few warm tears
falling from someplace on a bridge
to the icy waters of the Merrimack?
Rivers get lost in the ocean don’t they?
Let them find each other there
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Mother nature would be pleased
At the way we cut her trees,
Fascinated with the way
We bring machines to her domain,
That's a shame,
We bring her to shame,
Leaving her in pain,
Why do you do that?
You can't survive in the wilderness alone anyway,
if you want some shelter tonight ,I'd advise you stay,
You can't survive in the wilderness alone anyway,
people don't wanna die alone nowadays,
Sometimes we can't replace
All the things we take away,
Replacing nerves but
Can't take away the pain,
Must be a game ,
To you,
Maybe to gain fame,
Making love ones feel the strain,
Why do you do that?
You can't survive in the wilderness alone anyway,
if you want some shelter tonight ,I'd advise you stay,
You can't survive in the wilderness alone anyway,
people don't wanna die alone nowadays.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
We're working on a job together
Actually, we're building a set
And yes, there's been many other times we've met
You weren't so nice to me, but since this job there's a gentler turn
I see it when you approach me, you show a softer side
And when the others leave, you approach me closer, with a quicker stride
Today I had no doubt, it was easy to read between the lines
You came in quietly, and I'll be honest, you weren't looking fine
As we talked, you seem so fascinated, I felt so watched
This was definitely being taken up a notch
So we arrived at a part of the set and you asked me if I liked the plan
I didn't particularly care for it, but honestly it didn't remind me of a man
You said, it's boxy, sharp corners, a masculine design
"Maybe you'd like it curvy," you say, and I'm looking at your sight line
They say you can tell where someone is looking from a hundred feet away
Well, this was much less feet than that today
I knew exactly where you were looking
I knew what that look meant
And yes, I liked it better curvy
So maybe your advice was heaven sent
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 3:01 AM UTC
I'm falling now
And I'm afraid of what's happening
I fear getting hurt
So I keep my heart under lock and key
I won't let myself want you
Because I know where that may lead
Heartbreaks and nostalgia, ****
How much worse can this be?
I won't leave my heart out anymore
Just so it can get broken
But I'm fascinated with the words you speak
Do you see my dilemma?
Should I just accept the pure possibility?
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
All the words he never said
Were written in the stars
Look at me,
They seemed to say.
I'm still here
Let me guide you through the night
All the nights we used to spend
Outside the garage.
His favorite constellations embedded in my mind.
Orion the Hunter.
It would never get old.
I was an image of my father,
And together we could stare at the stars all night long.
So people always ask me
Why I am fascinated with the stars
Why at nights I look up at the sky and smile
And I tell them,
He used to admire the stars as I do,
But now,
He is up there.
He is guiding me throughout this life.
My dad is my favorite constellation.
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 9:16 PM UTC
You bought the house with lavender
seeded in the front porch.
The scent flutters between the doorsill
and through the letterbox
like bills overdue and invoices outstanding. A postal aroma,
envelope glue smells like flowers to me.
I was never granted the privilege of rearranging flowers
You said, there was more to life than flora,
these emerald, sap dripping, saturated stems
Swelling petals fascinated under my untried eyes,
You said I must not even graze the things.
I longed for a taste of the forbidden flora.
Did buds taste like honey? Were they sour like you told me?
Would they poison these supple
and innocent lips, turn them pink to grey?
Could tastebuds kiss the perennial vines,
the posies, the spray of efflorescence
A taste of simple sweetness -
I remember when you ripped the front-porch-lavender.
The roots could not resist your claws.
You sweat to mutilate strained flowers,
You always work harder. Verdure spoiled.
Ravaged, ruptured, tanked soil.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
“Angelica arguta”,
He shows her his wildflowers
“Angelica Susannah”, he says.
And prodded further by her
His heart.
Lingers briefly with the night;
Her affection has power,
But not enough
To keep him
From marching off to fight.
Tristan, son of One Stab,
Brings wildness from the mountains.
Lovely woman from the East,
Fascinated by her,
His passion.
Revels in her bridal bower,
And stops her
Loving any other.
Alfred, eldest son of his father,
Full of rectitude and romance.
Angelica abandoned,
Adrift between the mountains
Becalmed far from the sea.
He takes advantage,
Snatches her soul with riches,
But never captures
Her longing heart.
Years pass and one son gone,
The other lost and mad.
Year of the red grass and
Happiness found
Is felt too soon.
Tristan loves young Isabel,
But Angelica is his doom.
Yet only he survives
The waves that lash her shore,
“Like water in the ice,
She breaks them.”
And in the Spring,
Is gone once more.
Angelica Susannah is buried
Above the box canyon in the meadow
Among the many dead.
Near Samuel’s heart,
The executed Isabel,
And others who follow soon.
Until only Tristan remains,
Left to hunt his nemesis,
The bear inside him.
And dream of one wife lost,
And a lover left behind:
Angelica Susannah
Beside whom he should lie.
He is slain by the bear in Sixty-three,
After forty years of solitude.
And laid to rest in the plot
Between two women he loved,
Isabel, his ingenuous wife
And Susannah, his tragic love.
Do their spirits meet at last
And wander the golden fields,
Or ride out to bathe in the hot springs,
Under the moon of the falling leaves?
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 10:37 AM UTC
The moon is out
At her usual time
Only the sky is bright
Blended in white clouds
A blue background
Kissed by the sun's rays
on the other side
As the moon enjoys
Her unexplored view
She is blown away
By all the natural colors
Vibrant and alive
I am,
Fascinated by this image
The sun and moon
Share the sky
In the spring
The love that radiates
In contrast
As they beam in unison
In circular beauty
A moment in the universe
That proves us
We are all connected
In some way
Our very own
yin-yang
On display to teach us
Significance of our existence
Jl 2016
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 10:31 PM UTC
In my backyard, the deep sauce
of sun-gold air swivels lazily,
stirred by the occasional bumblebee.
I’m entertained by the idea of anything beyond this.
No continents, no glitter-splashed ocean.
The softened world settles into itself,
transforming from its usual busyness.
Squash lounges in the garden and
preschool train operators maneuver Thomas
through his wooden kingdom.
They move trees and buildings around their set and we,
still fascinated with the cucumber in the garden,
don’t look up from skimming our fingers through grass,
changing our own soil kingdoms with the sweep of a hand.
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 10:33 PM UTC
On the prom, in chairs of similar design
actors, support artists and crew.
Chatted in between takes as the sun shone
around the The Cafe' television set.
In a seaside town they each came together
that day it was unsettled weather.
The atmosphere was friendly nobody left out
congenial conversation not forced.
That created the mood for a great shoot
as a new comedy series was made.
On the seafront with a train ride there
passers by were everywhere.
Actors were also rehearsing another scene
under a canopy while it rained.
Fascinated I watched and laughed as well
feeling part of that moment.
In this privileged spot to observe first hand
by the sea close to the sand.
The Foureyed Poet.
Jul 26, 2011
Jul 26, 2011 at 4:17 AM UTC
From behind your canvas
you peer up at me taking in the details of my body.
Your scientific eyes studying me
cold
with neither lust or disgust
as if I were a vase
or a basket of fruit.
Not long before this we embraced one another
in the throes of passion.
You've never been more into me.
The skillful motions of your lips and tongue,
throwing my body into religious convulsions
and praising your name.
It intrigues me how you can turn that off.
How you can refrain from smiling
as you draw the outline of my ******
How my naked body so near and ready
doesn’t cause that animal I’ve come to know so well
to overpower the artist in you.
I’m truly fascinated, filled with both admiration and jealousy
for that woman you are creating.
I know that In your mind,
we've never been closer
but you look so far away
hiding from me behind that easel
cheating on my body with your interpretation.
No doubt, she will be flawless,
and have none of my ugly imperfections.
She isn’t even finished being born and I hate her already.
Although, I’ll lie when you reveal her to me.
I’ll tell you that she’s beautiful
that I really like her.
Then, I’ll make love to you
right there on the floor.
Forcing her to watch.
Dec 20, 2009
Dec 20, 2009 at 5:46 AM UTC
I always made it my
business to touch the
parts of you even you
neglected, the webbing
between your fingers,
your eyebrows. I was
fascinated by your
eyelashes, I always
wanted to show you
I would not hurt
your eyes.
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
My darling.
How exquisite it is that we happen
To exist in the same dimension.
I suppose tonight is one where the emptiness
Has begun its gradual descent
Choosing to take my feelings with it.
How do I feel? Well, I certainly wish that
You could be lying next to me to comfort me
While I float to the endless bottom of this abyss.
I wish for a night with your presence
So close that I can see the graceful
Rise and fall of your chest signaling
The constant of life that we all know as breathing.
But when the trivial task is completed by you
The world in my eyes seems to play in slow motion.
Utterly fascinated by your inner workings and inhibitions.
What ethereal source have you successfully stolen,
To channel the charisma overflowing within your personality
I wonder if you’re aware of your prominent title as my inspiration.
You have a way with the universe that I crave to imitate.
Or perhaps just to steal for a temporary bliss.
If you were next to me, there would be no reason for my
Uncontrollable fear, your wisely crafted logic would leave it behind.
Perhaps the allure is found beyond the masquerade.
The night sky reflects the mystique of your appeal.
Here’s to a beautiful eternity, may it never fade.
May the forever’s be found in the way we feel.
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 2:42 AM UTC
Love is contrary to popular beliefs
The heart knows when it descends
to fill every corner with tranquility
Taking you to a higher realm
where you connect with another soul
There is no doubt in the mind
when eyes have met and got fascinated
Resolve of the soul is higher
to delve deeper into each other’s world
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 12:38 PM UTC
the eyes of the admirer
seldom seem understanding of atrocities
selfish, absorbing
fascinated with self-interest
ignorant to empathy
a closed office
a man, a man
face to face
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 12:12 PM UTC
you created us, humans, one after the other trying to perfect the creation you defined as imperfect. you thought of this as a way to show us that your power holds no limitations. flawed species; and alone, we have created a civilization. we live to create a more damaged environment for us to die in.
and i was destructive. an emptiness so vast took hold of my being and no one i encountered could rid me of it. no one could make me feel.
until i knew of her existence, or lack there of. and now every atom in my fragile body lusts over every cell her celestial figure withholds. i unconcsiously cannot stop wanting her, because my heart pumps desire into my system rather than blood and no ***** that makes me up can function without her.
i've always felt dead inside..i've always felt that my days were of no purpose, until i met her, and i could ask for no bigger purpose than to love her.
she awakened my soul; the soul that was burried so deep in that i misconceived dislocation with it's nonexistence.
i never was interested in astronomy but i've always loved the idea of everything that exists beyond this earth. i speak of her beauty, and god, i can't help but compare her to the galaxies. i know the stars don't hear me, but that doesn't limit me. sometimes i wonder if they do because everytime her name rolls off my tounge, i can see them flicker. i think it's because they're in awe. they never saw someone feel so much for someone else before, and they never heard of someone as beautiful as her; not in centuries past and definitely not for centuries to come. her eyes hold universes within them and i want to study her instead. i'm fascinated with every detail there's to her. i never held interest in anyone before her and no one after her could measure up. she's everything everyone wants to be, but nothing anyone can be; because she's the perfect you were aiming for. isn't she?
she taught my lungs how to breathe.
"and i'm so glad i held onto my life long enough for her to be in it. -@whorefrost" and although the weight of this life is heavy on my chest, it's worth it. loving her is worth it.
i've been asked to describe art, and every thought in my head screamed her name louder than the other wanting to be heard. but she's more than just art, she's reason.
she's my reason.
i see her, and i believe.
i believe in you.
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC