"ferociously" poems
*Blue clouds gaze the wrapped sun
frozen kisses in my blood
travelling a thousand miles
to meet up with you.
There is none else walking
down this path where memories
wake up and dance
inside my armored heart.
I peeled off each kisses embrace
out of my parched lips.
I shook off the tree,
where your scent had blossomed.*
***Every step down this scarcely trodden path saw...
Each peel fall with helpless, damsel-like grace.
Brown leaves shone amber touched by fingers of the sun
Invasion of warmth through my greyed bony carapace.
Gentle tremors reverberate within with subtle anguish.
Sweet scented portal that took me back,
To the illusion of time where we once were...
In drunken stupor...laying under a star strewn canvas of black.
Senses that spoke of a great fantastical tale.
You are still here... In this cloying void with no one around...
Only that scent...your scent tugging on my core
Invisible tendrils berthing my feet back on ground.***
*Alone and wanting don't want to be anymore.
I want to feast my lungs on your skin once more.
I want to vibrate under your touch again,
In anguished anticipation and sweet pain.
I hurl your name to the echoing wind,
Blowing ferociously over the closed passage.
Only to find that I'm but elongating
the distance between our fading wishful stars.*
***Fading far only to find that I'm lost yet again,
Still harvesting a basket full of ripened hope.
Traversing planes with warped, slanted doorways,
Frantically seeking purchase on knobs with fevered gropes.
Heavy layered breaths inhaled too shallow...
Tracing missteps to decipher what it all meant.
When all is moot...weary, weathered and futile,
Forever I'll be bathing in the familiarity of your soothing, nectarous scent...***
Dajena M
ryn
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
Anxiety is an animal
Anxiety is a carnivorous beast
Anxiety grips onto you and doesn’t let go, digging its fangs in
Anxiety has painful fangs
Anxiety has claws (retractable)
Anxiety sits on the edge of a table, meowing morosely
Anxiety digs its claws in when it doesn’t want to do something
Anxiety reminds you it needs feeding
Anxiety hisses, bites and scratches
Anxiety eats ferociously, draining you.
Anxiety gives you disdainful looks
Anxiety reminds you it needs feeding
Anxiety has tiny fangs
Anxiety reminds you again it needs feeding
Anxiety looks down at you with its hairy body from the top shelf
Anxiety will sit with you, out of spite
Anxiety is only doing so to remind you he needs feeding
Anxiety might fall asleep
Anxiety might bite your hand while you fall asleep, he needs food
Anxiety is fed
Anxiety might possibly maybe if you-are-really-very-nice allow you to pet him.
Anxiety falls asleep
You fall asleep
Anxiety reminds you he needs feeding, loudly.
Oct 12, 2020
Oct 12, 2020 at 11:38 AM UTC
You-
you have a lot on your plate
and me-
I am just pushed in next to the others
that weigh you down while you're trying to carry
a thanksgiving meal of responsibility
and at the same time not be crushed by it-
You don't like it when your food touches.
So there I am waiting at the edge of all the chaos
trying not to step over boundaries or cross the line
I am just another thing thrown onto your plate
of responsibilities.
I am a shadow.
A walking disaster.
And I try to avoid all the things
that are so ferociously trying to bring you back down-
but all I do is end up making it worse
making all your **** end up touching
so it becomes a mountain upon your shoulders
that eventually turns into a chip upon it-
you have gone concave-
you became acute when you were once so obtuse
so full of life
so 180 degrees out of everyone else's ******* box
and I closed you in.
Made you realize what you needed to make yourself small
so you could eventually fit the plate just right on your shoulders.
I try to take the weight-
try to pick it all up myself and do something to help you get through
but I just end up touching everything-
You don't like it when your food touches.
You-
you are concave in my convex world
always looking inside yourself-
always hiding away inside of the parts of yourself
I will never see because I'm too busy looking outward
to find something I can do for you.
We are trigonometry-
which is the only type of math I was ever good at in school
but I can't seem to find the right angle anymore
you are too scalene and not enough isosceles
there's no symmetry in the way you look at me-
there's too many different sides to you.
I'd like to think I've seen them all
I'd like to think I've solved what degree
every angle you feed me turns out to be-
but it seems that the angles aren't what I should be finding.
You're just a circle-
I can find your radius
but I don't have enough of you anymore
to find your circumference.
We will always be abstract.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
awakening with the gradual rise
of the subdued heather hued sun
a palpable spectral silence permeated the air
the anticipation of celebration intercepted
by an enveloping phantom black malaise
hiding in obscure shadows
the terror of the twin towers final doom
elucidated quivers of melancholic nuances
rippling through the greying vicinity
my birthday september 11th a tuesday
my night to sing at abravanel hall
with the utah symphony
unable to serenade death
our voices remained indubitably silenced
in hushed wistful reverence
ensuing 9/11s channel somber sentiments
cloaked with annihilation while
dark visions occupy smudged iphone screens
this anniversary i will dissipate despair
transmuting dark despondency
splashing all with lucent petals of delight
i’ll live this day with passionate intensity
and those subsequent with equal ardor
ferociously painting back the light
i will raise my voice with effervescence
and sing in wild abandon
for my precious brothers that were lost
demonstrating devotion through a refusal
to be silenced by fear bestowing honor
with a conspicuous message that love wins
©2016janetaylor
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
My neighbour is heartbroken.
She had her heart torn into pieces by a poet,a writer, a painter and a singer.
Her silent cries are thought to be hidden through her thick walls.
But I hear them.
She spends her nights screaming and rummaging the pain silently away.
But loud enough for me.
I hear her sharp razor tickle through her skin creating a flawless crisscross pattern.
I see the blood explode from her vein running down her no longer smooth skin dripping on the tiles forming a puddle.
I hear the loud crack from her throat that shows me the tears that desperately escapes from her eyes,running down her cheeks searching for a way out.
She covers her mouth,closes her eyes and huddles, hoping she's tricking her heart to believe she's being cuddled,
But her mind and I know what's real.
Her blood's escaping vigorously,
Her hearts beating ferociously,
Her mind is wandering off into darkness tremendously.
My neighbour is heartbroken and I don't know what to do.
I cannot save her.
She believes that I am like him.
Because I am a poet.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 11:01 AM UTC
They're feverish with desire
Eclipsed in love
Raging like a black smoke fire
****** scents rising above
The pheromones they release
Must be smelled miles away
They've missed this, the tease
And liquid glances, it's been days
Since, either have touched the other
But they still feel that ****** tension
On every inch of their skin
When they're finally away from prying eyes
Their lips mesh, his hands move to her thighs
And hers slide up through his hair
Gripping on tight
They could be spotted, but neither cares
He pushes her hard against the wall
Bringing her legs around his hips
She thanks heaven she wore a skirt
And quiets a moan by devouring his lips
He quickly, fervently unzips his jeans
Releasing himself and promptly
Entering her sweet, wet heat
He groans as he swallows her scream
Then pounds in hard, fast, ferociously
She rocks her hips with a delicious little motion
Squeezing her core tight, biting his lips
Coming almost instantly when he growls with delight
He thrusts harder, incessantly feeling her getting tight
Moving her ankles to rest on his shoulders
He delves his shaft as deep inside as he can reach
She scratches scars along his back
And they kiss so deep like it's the final feast
She throbs in her core as another wave hits at full force
Starts going weak as she comes once more
Feeling her liquid pour, brings him to the edge
He grips her ankles stretching the limits of her flexibility
Then roars into her sweet mouth as he comes, vigorously
He lets her legs go, but holds her upright
They both sigh knowing it's the beginning of the night,
And that was just a quickie
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
A lioness roars ferociously
in my feline heart
She claws up my throat,
and tears open my mouth
Then jumps out,
and slinks across the plains
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC
The needle-tip,
a bee sting
giving rise to a hive.
A sickening delirium
coursing mercurial under eyelids,
tapeworms and tendrils
weaving wildly:
teeming, churning tides breaking over
greedy teeth (a needy mouth
flaying flesh ferociously,
a fevered wolverine
whipping through a petting zoo).
Each agonizing second
slowly sliding by,
tacky molasses on cloth
covering a table in an innocuous
American home
bruises on mother's face
fade (eggplant to jaundice
to the crimson of the setting sun
dying behind the horizon
line {chopped across a counter-top
like a broken promise...}).
All the lives we compromise
trying to cage a swarm.
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 11:52 PM UTC
The smell of shadow clung to our clothes like white to chandeliers,
but we walked…
we walked hand in hand, skin to skin, bone to bone.
We walked a world where our indifferent sides
were painted a shade darker than our dark sides,
a world where we spent time
as time mutually spent us,
a world
where every touch of toe upon earth
felt like the devil rearranging hell
just to accommodate our arrival.
But how could death swim in our chests
when we held forests in our hands?
So we washed our shadows in our tears
& hang them up on clothing lines,
Then with all the end in our lungs…
We run into the embrace of the sun,
Ferociously… we run.
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 3:12 PM UTC
Picture it: a lie were blue if the truth were red.
A lie is always cool, and the truth is always
Angry.
Compare it as well to ****** fluids: lies spew from our oral cavities like saliva,
when blood, the banality of our existence,
courses ferociously through the veins of every woman, child and man.
Both blood and saliva encompass being on levels past the physical and certainly beyond the secular.
But,
Sexuality is truth is red is anger.
Angry men are ****** men are truthful,
men.
Consider it, for
to be happy is to be
the epitome
of virginity.
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 12:39 AM UTC
Uniformed in creative black
Marlboro scented
Wonderstruck
Deliberately
Deliberate
Random
Pixie haired
Angel eyed
& brave
Daring herself to be
Enchantingly urbane
Zeitgeisty
Considerably
Considered
Aware
Pale skinned
Quaintly styled
& risky
A portfolio perfectionist
Absorbing influences
Ferociously
Delicate
Delicately
Persuasive
Scarlet lipped
Crystal tipped
& scared
Feb 17, 2011
Feb 17, 2011 at 6:43 AM UTC
There's something about water that fascinates the mind,
Hypnotic in its passive dancing,
Wheeling in panicked turns to the tune of an inaudible waltz.
The way it ripples with each drop of rain in the cold,
Resonates with me,
As though the water itself is speaking to me,
Desperately wanting to be heard,
It's voice crying in every motion.
Stop!
What is it saying?
Stop! Stop!
I don't know
Please! Stop!
It's too quiet
You're not listening!
All I know is how I feel when I see the way it glistens in the moonlight,
The way it reflects the beauty of a cityscape as dusk falls,
When the day is done water's true beauty is found,
It sparkles below me,
Pinpricks of street lights streak across its surface,
They seem to spread ferociously as my eyes are filled with tears,
Pinpricks becoming blazing stars.
The air whispers to me,
telling me what I need to hear.
Exactly what I need.
Water is pure beauty,
Eternally entrancing my closed-off mind,
Drawing me in,
Because sometimes
Water is more than beauty,
It becomes a perfect friend,
With no capacity to judge,
No way to hate,
Only to fill.
An empty
Heart
Drop
by
Drop
It becomes
Escape
*My legs fold beneath me,
my body goes limp,
I fall.*
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
I'm easy to fall in love with.
(I shouldn't be)
I'm not easy to love.
(My God I wish I was)
I'm the kind of lover
that will waltz the streets at 2 a.m
just to see you.
The kind of lover
that will write you poetry
from across the seas.
The kind of lover
that sheds a tear
as my fingertips graze your skin.
I'm the kind of lover
that loves fiercely.
I'm the kind of lover
that hates ferociously.
I'm the kind of lover
that will pour fuel on your jealously
to feel the heat of your love.
The kind of lover
that can turn to ice
and freeze your heart with one touch.
The kind of lover
that at any instant
can become no lover at all.
I'm the kind of lover
you don't want to love.
I'll elate you and destroy you.
I'll give you the stars
and make you watch as they collapse.
I'll gift you roses
and watch the thorns bleed you.
I'm the kind of lover
you love to love.
I'll drive a thousand miles away
and walk back home to you.
I'll burn every poem I wrote you
and hand write every one again.
I'll push you down
and bear the sky to stand you up.
I'll destroy you and rebirth you.
I'm not easy to love,
and my God I wish I was.
One day, I know, I will be.
My psychiatrist said so.
Just you wait.
I promise,
I'm worth the wait.
Jan 13, 2017
Jan 13, 2017 at 9:56 PM UTC
I find safety in the darkness of the crowd
The cumulative hum is deafening until
My ears ring with incompetence for the sound
My hips are going in between the claps
And my legs burn from dancing too ferociously
Only flashes of light reveal my expression
Beaming with a misplaced innocence
I try to focus on his face only to find myself
Staring down black pupils like barrels of a gun
It’s been a long day, I’m clean out of epinephrine
It feels good to have your shoulder in my throat
To put my weight on something else and forget gravity
I’ve made an escape, the result of a good night
I find consolation in a repeated tomorrow
I catch a free ride and stumble into the city
By night I’m so much further than where I arose
Drifting unintentionally and forgetting all the rules
Always late to arrive and early to leave,
I’m never where you need me to be
Just a mind finite and floating
But if I lived as just a heart
As just a shrine for my soul to breathe
Then, I would be perfect.
It’s this bag of flesh that slows me down
Like an expiration date.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 2:39 AM UTC
I am a mother
Although I’ve never carried a child in my womb
Or pushed life out of me
I am a mother,
Although I’ve never had any children who came from my blood
Or called me mom
I am a mother,
To the cat I care for so tenderly I would lay my life to save his
Or the little bugs and spiders I let out into the garden after
Storms have brought them in
I am a mother
To my parents, who needed me to grow up and be strong enough
That I could take care of them, and provide a safe place for them to regrow
I am a mother
To my family when they've needed a shoulder to cry on, or a hug
during times where life only seemed to hurt
I am a mother
To the team, I listen to and support when they have nowhere else to go
I am a mother
To the stranger that only needs to see a smile as we cross paths
I am a mother
To the lover that never had one
I am a mother
To the sister, I ferociously protect and will forever do so
I am a mother
To the boss who needs to know he’s is doing a good job
I am a mother
To the community that needs a voice to stand alongside them
I am a mother
To the friends who know I will always be there
I am a mother
To nature as I thank her for the beauty she is
I am a mother
To the world, who might never notice me but who I will love regardless
I am a mother
Although I’ve never carried a child in my womb
Or pushed life out of me,
I am a mother.
Mar 29, 2021
Mar 29, 2021 at 6:33 AM UTC
*From above, the skydiver's eyes scan the verdant landscape-
rushing towards him, but she can't see that, he regrets,
though she too jumps, sitting in his heart, the quiet dove
dreaming immortality being his habit, he is in yogic trance as he land,
rushes to see her, as in here and now, is his foot hold as a householder
awaiting him for long, she kisses him ferociously on his mouth
"I can't wait anymore to roll in our bed"she warmed it for this moment,
If one is incapable of imagining the the higher reaches of particle state,
immortalities hug, after quietly going back, enjoy the sojourn here
It's a cycle, there isn't no two; Dive down from the air craft
over the clouds smiling, hear the whisper of the winds in both ears.
Live dangerously, raise to the sublime, before touching eternity.*
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 1:18 PM UTC
You often subside from my mind,
Like spring tide;
Ferociously in, suddenly out,
Resistant to the crooning of the moon,
Sheltered in your own lunacy-
Stepping to your own tune.
I long to love you evermore,
But your grasp is not tepid,
Simple motions don’t shelter I
From splitting in the storm.
You seize safety-
But like the tide, you subside.
I feel as if the glow meant
To reside resonates somewhere far,
In two meeting once again-
The sleepy kiss from a listless lover.
We are the waves crushing one another.
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
i'm a straight curve. burning cool **** and nothing opened breathtaking shutters peaceably. i flexed shattered notions and crepitus crept sundripping ****** a feminine spark ferociously naked. between her ******* i'm god.h!
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 12:47 PM UTC
Winds whipping certainties into,
Tiny hurricanes,
Spinning around every drop of thought she
Disowns, discounts.
This turmoil, the only survival she's ever known,
Keeps her in the air, suspended, ambiguous, beautiful or terrifying?
So she shakes and cries in fear,
Of the day she stops spinning.
Surrounded by biting cold fronts,
Pushed around by sparks of warm relief,
She's a hot mess, sticky, humid, and alive with electric charge.
Her pleas bellowed into thunder,
Static shock breaking her voice,
Into something massively engulfing.
The kind of sound that makes a grown man feel small.
You can feel her coming from miles away.
She knows the weight of her presence better than anyone.
So lonely and heavy is her grief,
So bright and menacing is her capability.
Ironically, just the right balance of
Hot,
And cold,
Positivity,
And negativity,
Swiftly reacting, turning, changing her,
Into this rain ridden,
Angst swollen,
Ferociously complex storm system,
Stealing the heat she can,
Clinging to any energy she once drew on.
Never releasing her festerings.
Standing above a world she cannot touch,
Without destroying.
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
A cigarette after ***
gets old
when it's the only thing
burning
in your world.
When Netflix feels like
family,
you wonder where
everyone went.
************ feels like
a cry for help--
So help you God.
Missing your home
is second
to missing who
you once were.
Eastern philosophy,
Karl Marx, Rawls--
We don't know
any ******* thing,
really.
Pretending to be more.
Pretending to be smarter
than we really are.
May holes in our sides
let others see
that we're beating, too--
just not as ferociously
or as honestly.
May we vanish
into the darkness
that best suits us.
If the light is our night,
may we follow it.
Follow it...
Follow it...
Rebel from our frame.
May God grant us
to be more
than losers.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 12:31 AM UTC
I am a golden being king
of all beasts sent by God,
to keep on searching for
all of truth.
Shinning fleeces glazing, almost
lazy, soaking up the sun.
My eyes held above the crowd
I sit back looking and looking.
Golden manes flowing with winds
keep on blowing. Yellow flames
keep on bellowing as the truth
keeps on coming.
I hear the sound of armies fleeing
as all my openness becomes
my strength.
My life an open book spreading
miles across facebook nothing
hidden all in view.
My honesty more brazen and bolder
than the Roman Empire.
As the world steps back I am unfolding
12 foot tall keep on growing.
Golden nuggets once hidden
now shinning.
I rattle the enemy to the core with
my dark ROAR the recesses of my
being turning over like an engine.
As there is not a part of my being
I have not seen all shadows disappear
with my seeing.
I turn the world upside down inside out
as all dark hidden corners become
white shinning teeth.
Ferociously I tackle the world
with a fearless truth.
Roaring into battle my open heart
devours all lies and untruth.
Let us charge
let us charge
Let the
fires burn
fires burn
As all is unified in this battle
for the streams of Gold and silver
For with no sacrifice there can be
nothing gained.
Driven forward and lifted up an
honor deep inside carries us
into battle.
So tonight my friend take me on
let us fight
be my brother
For now is a good time to die.
For the truth shall **** us all
but in the same way save us.
So my friend my brother
let us fight together
as we serve the golden King
Wear his crest upon our chest.
As all men fall within the limits
of their own lies let us hold the flag
of truth above us.
Let us die in the lies we beat to the
ground to be reborn within the truth
we hold above our head.
Living life with the glorious
King of beasts
the Golden Lion King.
Holding truth above our
own being we may proudly
bring love and dignity
to all of GODS Kingdom.
As all order is maintained
while he sits upon his throne.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 5:03 PM UTC
You're ******* on oysters
I guess I've been opening them for you for a long while now
But you're getting greedier and greedier
You're not waiting for my cold white hands
To crack open the oyster shells
So you leave me there
With aching and bleeding hands
And you crawl deeper and deeper into the ocean
Until you disappear from my eyes
And it's not you who's eating the oysters
It's the ocean that ferociously swallows you
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
I'm not a perfect picture, I'm not always an inspiration I don't have perfect pitch, but I'm close because I try.
as I'm ferociously attacking the windmills
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
Cramped, lost, and crying in my own exhausted body,
tired of spending all my money like I'm overly gaudy.
Short is this pain but long is the ornament,
until I see the path to winning this life-long tournament.
No longer numb am I, yet still caught in a gasp.
New knowledge instilled that ferociously connected the dots, and at long last filled in the gaps.
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 6:16 PM UTC