Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"fierceness" poems
you are the center, the sun in the sky warming, lighting, guiding those below you are the core, the hub in the wheel forming, maintaining, strengthening the circle you are the earth, the bedrock beneath supporting, stabilizing, reinforcing our lives you are the reason for our being, our births, our lives nurturing, nourishing, caring for our hopes, our dreams you gather, sort the fruits, roots harvested from the land tending, stoking, reviving embers smothering in the hearth your strength transcends your body, your mind, your heart from the first child, to the last, your love, affection is forever you cradle, caress, kiss, comforting the child reassuring, protecting, shooing monsters away you are the strong, tough, steady woman in our lives fierceness of a lioness, tender as a kitten, loving her child
0
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
strong tough steady woman
i would love to be skinny, pretty with a little bit of fierceness but why do i look as if i wasn’t good enough never the brainy nor the beauty i was always a second choice, chance, or even a lead in my life i never became my own because people kept being too good they kept stepping on what i do and they do better i was an average asian looking a little bit rosy tan with a hint of korean spice by my eyes who was envied by others but good-looking eyes didn’t stand out because makeup kept shattering the concept of natural beauty we were all being fake to the society full of hidden truths they showcased thin-ass bodies abused by strict diets and pressure full of greed.
0
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 5:41 AM UTC
i was a little bit outshined
whereas by dark really released,the modern flame of her indomitable body uses a careful fierceness. Her lips study my head gripping for a decision:burn the terrific fingers which grapple and joke on my passionate anatomy oh yes! Large legs pinch,toes choke— hair-thin strands of magic agony ….by day this lady in her limousine oozes in fashionable traffic,just a halfsmile (for society’s sweet sake) in the not too frail lips almost discussed; between her and ourselves a nearly-opaque perfume disinterestedly obscene.
0
5.9k
Whereas By Dark Really Released,The Modern
In the witching hour all is quiet except for the beating sound of two hearts entwined with passion and agony beating more angry by the minute. Blinded eyes try to pierce through the dark abyss to find sanity in a place of cold nothingness and desolation, as the tortured mind cloudy with regret slowly fades away.. nails claw at blinded eyes longing to see the clouds part and behold, his goddess is there basking in the pale yellowing aura of the moon, as he looks longingly upon her.. skin and curves of perfection soaking up the yellowing, becoming golden upon his slightest gaze. Knees become burning furnaces of pain and torment as he falls to kneel before her, begging with soundless words of an open mouth for release. Paralyzed, hungrily devouring as her sightless eyes fall upon her brooding brow trailing down to the blinding stars that become her eyes under the harvest moon. The wind blows fierce surrounding her in a halo of color plucked dead limbs, trailing off into oblivion. She gazed upon his visage, her fierceness burning his soul in eternal torment she smirks and glides toward effortlessly slowly, tantalizingly slow, causing him great anguish and letting her sadistic humor known to all.. he lashed out and traps her in his iron eyes transfixed  on lips so full and soft as crimson color them tricking down her body hungrily eating her perfect curves he kisses her hard throwing themselves down a bottom less pit entangled in passion he forces her legs apart he slams into her as she drips wet in anticipation.. She moans breathlessly in extract, her ***** like velvet greedily devours his hardened **** of stone repeatedly ****** her innocence, tired bodies continuously fall exhausted. She tried to flee, but his fires flamed inside hotly he takes her again. His embrace hard, intense his iron will dominating her. Breaking her wild spirit, she gasps as he unleashes a relentless force inside her driving her to the edge of sanity and back again. Her eyes close for the last time giving into his dominance she embraced him. Her wild flaming spirit shattered knowing that as he worships her it is she who is forever a slave of their passionate love, melding bodies together, as they fall endlessly in the abyss.
0
Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 9:04 PM UTC
Hex
In the witching hour all is quiet except for the beating sound of two hearts entwined with passion and agony beating more angry by the minute. Blinded eyes try to pierce through the dark abyss to find sanity in a place of cold nothingness and desolation, as the tortured mind cloudy with regret slowly fades away.. nails claw at blinded eyes longing to see the clouds part and behold, his goddess is there basking in the pale yellowing aura of the moon, as he looks longingly upon her.. skin and curves of perfection soaking up the yellowing, becoming golden upon his slightest gaze. Knees become burning furnaces of pain and torment as he falls to kneel before her, begging with soundless words of an open mouth for release. Paralyzed, hungrily devouring as her sightless eyes fall upon her brooding brow trailing down to the blinding stars that become her eyes under the harvest moon. The wind blows fierce surrounding her in a halo of color plucked dead limbs, trailing off into oblivion. She gazed upon his visage, her fierceness burning his soul in eternal torment she smirks and glides toward effortlessly slowly, tantalizingly slow, causing him great anguish and letting her sadistic humor known to all.. he lashed out and traps her in his iron eyes transfixed  on lips so full and soft as crimson color them tricking down her body hungrily eating her perfect curves he kisses her hard throwing themselves down a bottom less pit entangled in passion he forces her legs apart he slams into her as she drips wet in anticipation.. She moans breathlessly in extract, her ***** like velvet greedily devours his hardened **** of stone repeatedly ****** her innocence, tired bodies continuously fall exhausted. She tried to flee, but his fires flamed inside hotly he takes her again. His embrace hard, intense his iron will dominating her. Breaking her wild spirit, she gasps as he unleashes a relentless force inside her driving her to the edge of sanity and back again. Her eyes close for the last time giving into his dominance she embraced him. Her wild flaming spirit shattered knowing that as he worships her it is she who is forever a slave of their passionate love, melding bodies together, as they fall endlessly in the abyss.
Continue reading...
22
I walked into a sunset that did not belong to me, Its vivid colours burning across the Mediterranean Sea. In a fragile, elusive moment of composure I gazed at the choppy sea moving closer To the rugged, pebbly, rocky shore Where I stood alone against the Rock. The Rock of Gibraltar watched with a smile As the turbulent Med pulsating with life Scattered its waves against the strand, And the sapphire waters kissed the ancient land. The stormy sea embraced the coast With fierceness intangible as a ghost. The air vibrated with a taste of freedom, With barely audible words of wisdom That travelled across the centuries To fill the tangy air with memories. The voices from the past enveloped the Rock In an alluringly mythical, protective cloak. I gathered the strength I drew from the Rock; Fears discarded, the resolve growing strong, I walked the Med Steps to the very top Against a dazzlingly splendid backdrop Of the breathtaking views of the bay, Basking in the aura of fears thrown away. Intoxicated by the beauty, hungry for more, I was feeling elated to the very core. The fear of heights temporarily conquered, The contentment felt almost awkward. Suddenly, the world seemed a different place: Offering the nature's graceful embrace. As the starry night slowly descended, In my solitude, I felt protected By the mighty Rock standing tall and grand Guarding the ancient, immemorial land. Copyright: Nara Hodge 2018
0
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
Dream of Gibraltar
Things often collide within my mind my vision slurred your name circles my every thought Flashes of color words blurred and laughs echo, echo My shadow is not my own, it doubles into two you you it's always been you I fought but your moves are sly always always in the back of my mind I won't forget forget that your eyes say more than your mouth ever will Burned into my memory is the way you smile, with a smirk and underlying affections your fierceness your intricate complexion Things often collide within my mind I trust I trust   My body won't forget the sensation of your sway and touch, the way you make it a must your warmth and fingertips most of all your lips I trust my memory hope for no slips Stop, play, rewind time Things often collide within my mind Static static is all I hear your absence is my biggest fear you not being near Panic panic runs through my veins Stop, play, it's not the same Leo, lion pure nature of defiant I was stupid and foolish to try and obtain, knowing lions can never be tame Distance distance my mind screams but your beauty is intoxicating, you're asphyxiating I promise I swear I'll never not want to be there Adjectives and verbs, talking about you I never run out of words I'm saying too much now's the time to shut up Stop, play, rewind Thoughts of you always occupy my mind.
0
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
Love
I remember the first time that I was called pretty. I was eight years old. I remember feeling a bubble of insecurity hover around me, like an ant under a microscope. At eight years old, I had experienced my very first wave of expectations of women in a male dominated society. I had no idea that would be the first of many by the time I reached womanhood. I was just a child. I loved playing in the dirt, and capturing bull frogs. I was a girl who played like a boy. I never thought I was pretty, not because I had low self esteem, but because I was eight years old. I was to young to have pretty wrapped up in my identity. Fast forward eight more years. I am sixteen now. I am no longer playing in the dirt, or capturing bull frogs. I am painting my nails bright pink, and dying my hair every two weeks. I am trying to be pretty. I am no longer feeling the bubble of insecurity. I am living in it twenty four seven. I am always concerned with how I look, how I act, and what I say. I am a girl who is no longer a tomboy. I am just a girl. I no longer know who I am, because I am not allowed to be who I am. I am expected to sit quietly in the corner, straightening my hair, perfecting my makeup, so that a boy who loves my body can tell me he loves me, and make me his wife. Fast forward 4 more years. I am twenty now. I am numb to the insecurity. I am now expected to live in a suburb, raise three kids, clean the house, love my husband, and my white picket fence. I am just another girl who is seen as pretty. I am living a lifeless life. I am at a crossroads to either stay down under the weight of societies expectations, or burn my picket fence right down to the ground. I am remembering that tomboy I was before I was called pretty. I can either reconnect with her fierceness, or hide beyond a mask of beige concealer. I can either be a dove, or I can be a phoenix. I think the choice is obvious.
0
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 2:38 AM UTC
Tomboy
I remember the first time that I was called pretty. I was eight years old. I remember feeling a bubble of insecurity hover around me, like an ant under a microscope. At eight years old, I had experienced my very first wave of expectations of women in a male dominated society. I had no idea that would be the first of many by the time I reached womanhood. I was just a child. I loved playing in the dirt, and capturing bull frogs. I was a girl who played like a boy. I never thought I was pretty, not because I had low self esteem, but because I was eight years old. I was to young to have pretty wrapped up in my identity. Fast forward eight more years. I am sixteen now. I am no longer playing in the dirt, or capturing bull frogs. I am painting my nails bright pink, and dying my hair every two weeks. I am trying to be pretty. I am no longer feeling the bubble of insecurity. I am living in it twenty four seven. I am always concerned with how I look, how I act, and what I say. I am a girl who is no longer a tomboy. I am just a girl. I no longer know who I am, because I am not allowed to be who I am. I am expected to sit quietly in the corner, straightening my hair, perfecting my makeup, so that a boy who loves my body can tell me he loves me, and make me his wife. Fast forward 4 more years. I am twenty now. I am numb to the insecurity. I am now expected to live in a suburb, raise three kids, clean the house, love my husband, and my white picket fence. I am just another girl who is seen as pretty. I am living a lifeless life. I am at a crossroads to either stay down under the weight of societies expectations, or burn my picket fence right down to the ground. I am remembering that tomboy I was before I was called pretty. I can either reconnect with her fierceness, or hide beyond a mask of beige concealer. I can either be a dove, or I can be a phoenix. I think the choice is obvious.
Continue reading...
97
" Storms are beautiful Even though their fierceness   Shades their inner                 beauty   Astraphobia drives those               Who fear         To scramble for                  shelter          Ignoring the way        They shape the sky             To decorate it                                      From the common                                                 Sight of                           stars. "
0
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
#1 - STORMS
~and for Harlan, who loved this one best~ *"for tandem is the ever-changing, graying color of their fierce attached tenacity" waking/walking in careful pacing regular lock steps, like new cadets, counting cadence, in perfect silent, almost motionless, except for the minuscule quivering of slightly parted moving lips these two elders, still now plebes, freshmen but of a latter, graduated stage, demonstrating robustly the slow shuffle-along, a well practiced dance conjured 'in tandem' her arm, crooked in his, his other hand, in protective custody of a knight's armored chain glove encasing hers, he, shuffling just,   a precise, intended half-a-beat slower lest she ever think that she, ever be a drag upon him hair, his, threaded with daily, new arriving grays, proudly accepted as the privilege of graceful aging hers, disguised with periodic outings, outings for the hidings of life's bookmarks, conceding nothing ever to time's lunatic desire to separate them modest in dress, styling hints of  pasts' elegant, the man's hat defiant, daringly jaunty angled, a small scarf to handbag knotted, matching his Windsor knotted tie the passers-by, all smile,   the signal charm of an end game processional, thinking so sweet, yet mine eyes detect more, something hardy and radical a fierce, fierce fierceness, both fighters in the resistance, armed with tandem tenacity, ground given, but only inches surrendered, wounds resisted by scar skin toughened by the caress of ions bonding under the pressure of atomic level mutuality worn out, well past Purple Hearts, no capitulation feared, to the ever changing, enemies' new disguises, they, a two person platoon, each, having the other's back and I burst into tears on the street, a train of out loud moans, even groans emitted, like a string of perfect pearls breaking, clattering on an asphalt terrain weeping not from visions of the inevitable, sighing not from the certitude of a cycle's uptime ending* but jealous furious by this reminder delightful, angry at myself, for having lost so many wasted years, mine, the loss greatest, for absent was the fierce tenacity of tandem
0
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 8:41 PM UTC
Tandem: The Color of Their Tenacity
~and for Harlan, who loved this one best~ *"for tandem is the ever-changing, graying color of their fierce attached tenacity" waking/walking in careful pacing regular lock steps, like new cadets, counting cadence, in perfect silent, almost motionless, except for the minuscule quivering of slightly parted moving lips these two elders, still now plebes, freshmen but of a latter, graduated stage, demonstrating robustly the slow shuffle-along, a well practiced dance conjured 'in tandem' her arm, crooked in his, his other hand, in protective custody of a knight's armored chain glove encasing hers, he, shuffling just,   a precise, intended half-a-beat slower lest she ever think that she, ever be a drag upon him hair, his, threaded with daily, new arriving grays, proudly accepted as the privilege of graceful aging hers, disguised with periodic outings, outings for the hidings of life's bookmarks, conceding nothing ever to time's lunatic desire to separate them modest in dress, styling hints of  pasts' elegant, the man's hat defiant, daringly jaunty angled, a small scarf to handbag knotted, matching his Windsor knotted tie the passers-by, all smile,   the signal charm of an end game processional, thinking so sweet, yet mine eyes detect more, something hardy and radical a fierce, fierce fierceness, both fighters in the resistance, armed with tandem tenacity, ground given, but only inches surrendered, wounds resisted by scar skin toughened by the caress of ions bonding under the pressure of atomic level mutuality worn out, well past Purple Hearts, no capitulation feared, to the ever changing, enemies' new disguises, they, a two person platoon, each, having the other's back and I burst into tears on the street, a train of out loud moans, even groans emitted, like a string of perfect pearls breaking, clattering on an asphalt terrain weeping not from visions of the inevitable, sighing not from the certitude of a cycle's uptime ending* but jealous furious by this reminder delightful, angry at myself, for having lost so many wasted years, mine, the loss greatest, for absent was the fierce tenacity of tandem
Continue reading...
85
I was born on a Zodiac cusp on the 23rd of July 1997. I am Cancer, The crab. I am Leo, The Lion. Sometimes I feel small, prey to mighty predators. But I can hide and I have claws so please don't try to hurt me. I am brave, confident and proud. I roar with fierceness, but it is nothing, just a sound. I am strong and fast, I am the king of thousands. I am hard-shelled but fierce. I can hide or I can hunt. I can crawl or I can run. I seem small but I am big. I have a strong jaw and sharp claws I wear my crown proudly for I am the king of beasts but I am far from it.
0
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 6:05 PM UTC
Zodiac cusp (Leo & Cancer)
These two elements were enemies since dawn When they fought, the whole world would be warned As heat met cold, smoke would alight While they quarreled, the land stood in fright The Fire had a fierceness to her that the Water could not match The heat could paralyze you, even the smallest of a scratch But she would lose her temper whenever she talked The Water took advantage and would continue to mock The Water on the other hand was smart and full of wisdom Her power was so mighty that it could wash away kingdoms However, how clever she may be, her cowardice was known The heat burned her when it was shown Who lost? Who won? No one knows anymore But we know that they fought a thousand times in the lore It's a mystery when will they stop But one thing is final, While the Water runs cold, the Fire burns hot. -Grisha. S
0
Dec 15, 2020
Dec 15, 2020 at 3:10 PM UTC
WATER AND FIRE
She holds me with fierceness and fragility her veneer like old paint on a utility door so unsure with the internally rendered pain of a thousand failing days I will lightly sand those cruel flakes with smooth care expectant of improvement and reset the broken hinges she has been left to hang on, replacing the bolt and lock so she has full control of who she lets pass She holds me with fierceness and fragility longing for alterations not altercations different times of high hopes holding within her wearing frame and in that space you will find me with one ear open Soothing the doubts of a hundred internal put downs, that can no longer be
0
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 1:19 AM UTC
Fierceness and Fragility
Strong like a foundation Rock solid in every way Her skin is soft as velvet God built her this very way She hides most of her fears Wears all her hats like a boss She flows against the stream and is the calm in the chaos A beautiful mystery to unravel One layer at at time Only people close to her Know the thoughts of her mind Her eyes show compassion and fierceness just the same From the ashes she will rise again *and Woman is her name*
0
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 5:14 PM UTC
Woman Is Her Name
0
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC
Belongingness
do we know whose bold hand proffered the apple? both languished in paradise, wander and eat, making love their primary preoccupation... do we know who named the animals, the trees and birds and flowers? when stewardship became dominion.. do we know what knowledge means? recognizing your ****** seems a small price to pay for the world of emotion - lust's sharp intensity, the fierceness of anger or a kiss... do we know the humble serpent -God's creation- was to blame? curiosity perhaps, or boredom more likely, ensconced in a gorgeous garden living know-nothings their idle exploration of Eden. who wrote this story? who made these myths? what is now an ossified creed was then a nascent religion; many claiming the one Truth. beliefs in faith-based fact flourishing - all the debates on divinity. the Garden, The Woman, the Snake and the Tree this account survived, recorded and writ for ages a myth that may never have happened.. this ancient story lives on to confirm the sin and rattle the soul.
0
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 12:57 PM UTC
eden
did you know your hair was golden in the sun? you were the boy king, gentle as the summer air you found me frail and useless, when i was nothing yet you, in all your glory, made me something. your name echoed through all the kingdoms of Greece, you threatened yet were admired by the greatest of warriors you roused lustful dreams in the most tender and innocent of nymphs you were the mighty sentinel of the common stranger yet you were mine to hold in the dark of night. i still think about the way your leg dangled as your lyre lulled on, your languid trails of kisses and starlit whispers still haunt me the same way your unavoidable fate crept upon you through your noble triumphs. i have listened to your speeches like homilies of the faithful i have memorized the creases on your face of fierceness i have kissed your war wounds and cried for your pain and i have read the greatest of legends in the lines of your body. i could have sworn your battle cries were as melodious as your lyre songs and so beautiful they were that i still hear you sing in the tides of the Aegean seas you were destined for fame and wondrous glory to be a story to be told for all time to have people cheer your name and fall on their knees for you loss was a feeling foreign to you, yet the only thing you lost yourself to, in your pride, was love who knew love could be such a terror? golden haired triumphant prince running swift and beautiful with the ocean breeze nobody could ever catch up: i had always thought you and i would live forever.
0
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
The Lament of the Son of Menoetius
did you know your hair was golden in the sun? you were the boy king, gentle as the summer air you found me frail and useless, when i was nothing yet you, in all your glory, made me something. your name echoed through all the kingdoms of Greece, you threatened yet were admired by the greatest of warriors you roused lustful dreams in the most tender and innocent of nymphs you were the mighty sentinel of the common stranger yet you were mine to hold in the dark of night. i still think about the way your leg dangled as your lyre lulled on, your languid trails of kisses and starlit whispers still haunt me the same way your unavoidable fate crept upon you through your noble triumphs. i have listened to your speeches like homilies of the faithful i have memorized the creases on your face of fierceness i have kissed your war wounds and cried for your pain and i have read the greatest of legends in the lines of your body. i could have sworn your battle cries were as melodious as your lyre songs and so beautiful they were that i still hear you sing in the tides of the Aegean seas you were destined for fame and wondrous glory to be a story to be told for all time to have people cheer your name and fall on their knees for you loss was a feeling foreign to you, yet the only thing you lost yourself to, in your pride, was love who knew love could be such a terror? golden haired triumphant prince running swift and beautiful with the ocean breeze nobody could ever catch up: i had always thought you and i would live forever.
Continue reading...
31
You say you're happy when she smiles It brightens up your life It brings you endless comfort It gives you sense of peace She says she'll bet a dime That if she ever grinned You'd back away in fear Or hate her just the same And when she doesn't plan on fierceness It comes easily Not too aggressive, no motivations, Simply living in the moment When you say to be happy, You mean anti-suicide You mean anti-guilt on your part You mean anti-blame And when they fall for it And praise life And smile You walk away It's a big smear-campaign They love it when you're down The light shines stronger on them that way It's a subconscious conscious thing- A means for the tonsils to get unhinged You say do what you wish The sun will shine in time You say this with serenity Though it never reached your vocabulary You say just be yourself The world will come to understand But you say it with conviction Cause you've never tried it yourself Face the truth- From the outside looking in It's a whole lot better being optimistic When your soul isn't on the line Face the truth- In walking the outcast path You're not embraced Only scorned Face the truth- One who is one Knows they can't stray, Even if they choose Face the truth- If you were me and I were you And you were in my shoes, Would you smile?
0
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 9:32 PM UTC
Smile (Self-Pity)
Heart of pure gold and strongest steel Embodiment of love made real Both powerful and gentle are her hands Much like the feet on which her ground she always stands Tenderness she does possess Along with the fierceness of a lioness And you will never know the extent of her worth All the days you walk the Earth
0
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 6:08 PM UTC
She broke the mold
Goodbye Disgusting excuse of a friend A confidant I used to hold such confidence in, Now a sickly Pseudo relationship. You and I A Despicable desert dry Duo I can't spend another second At this pathetic pretending That you can offer anything to anyone But a narcissistic notion And a nerve-racking neuroses of the mind The universe is out to get you I curse my oblivious self I had forgotten you are the single Cohabiter on Earth Ah, yes You are undefeated At the blame game I've tried to hold honor in defeat But, I don't have an ounce of energy left For your egotistical world You unhinged Dark gate You let your steed of self-obsession Out to stampede the sincerest hearts You don't even see the ***** Destruction You deal out From your deprived reciprocity Alcohol, your only ailment Your **** filled words Tossed out lament and futile This is where we go our divided way I will not claim even a freckle on your face As a friend I will not look back Nostalgia is not necessary I will detach myself from your Leach like misery And I'll slowly build strength back A blood flow of enraged fierceness Has circulated through my core And it will be as if I never had any bit Of me Belonging to you Friend, now foe Farewell
0
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC
Falsetto Friend
You are something to miss the way your eyes say more than your mouth ever will the way you smile, with a smirk and underlying affections your fierceness your intricate complexion your sway and touch, the way you make it a must You are something to miss your warmth and fingertips most of all your lips your body around mine god you don't know how much how many times I've craved your touch You are something to miss and the way your eyes say more than your mouth ever will.
0
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 5:33 PM UTC
Intricate
You were born with thunder rumbling from between your lips. Your words were learned to be feared. the promise of being trapped in the rain was too frightening for anyone to listen. You were a flower that had begun to wilt, covered by the shade of those towering above you, and when they stole the last ray of light, you learned to become your own sun. Lightning shown in your golden-brown eyes. Fierceness and a refusal to take any odds into consideration. You struck hearts into beating again, you struck minds into thinking again. Your soul is a flood raging over hills. You are washing down every crevice of the world; drowning and sweeping away things that will never measure to your strength. You are a Californian wildfire. Beautifully destructive and distinctively fearless. You are crackling heat in valleys where thirst will never be quenched. Don't be offended when they turn away, some people just can't take the heat. You have grown into a refusal to let the natural disasters inside of you sit still. You have taken every ounce of nothingness that you felt and turned it into a brewing storm. We will hear that thunder rolling from your lips this time. Sonnets were written about your icy smile years before you were born. Poets know the beauty of a powerful earthquake that could send cities crumbling, Everyone knows the beauty of a powerful woman that can send worlds crumbling.
0
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
The Natural Disasters Inside of You
He loved me with the fierceness of a friday night (Wine, smoke and moving hips) You loved me with the tenderness of a tuesday morning (Blinds, sunlight and fingertips)
0
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 2:00 AM UTC
I don't know why I don't know love
God, holds you over the pit of hell. You have offended him, infinitely. Sinner! Suffer, this fierceness and wrath, of Alrighty God. You must suffer, for, eternity! It is, inexpressible, inconceivable, the power of God's anger. Suffer! Infinite, misery.
0
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 3:21 PM UTC
Sinners Must Suffer
I was a woman of water A river for a body to flow like a current. I was meant only to sweep men off their feet. But never do anything but slip through their hands. Used only as something to mop up. But I found a man made of fire. That turned my voice into a voice. It was no longer a trickle. He took my rocky heartbeat. And turned it into a heartbeat. Then one day, His flames turned into a fingertip. One that caressed my jawline And whispered to my riverside cheekbones Telling me to become an ocean. To drown. Have a fierceness of a tidal wave. To crash anyone who hurts me. His hand touched me like a hand inside a wishing well And I grew the size of the Atlantic. I carried him with me, but his flames came back. Turning me back into a river A creek A puddle A girl. I held hands with a campfire Burnt my skin into submission And evaporated. Like I’m supposed to.
0
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 9:34 PM UTC
Water Woman
woman. house of fire and hope and light. woman. canvas where loveliness and fierceness blend. woman. ocean of flowers and life. garden where all things wonderful grow. woman. you.
0
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 11:30 AM UTC
woman