"flow" poems
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes
Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test
Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 5:19 AM UTC
Sitting in some car in a forgotten parking lot
Grey marks the skies
Lush green plants peeping in
The wildlife of concrete and paint makes the perfect background
For
Little ***** of liquid heaven falling on my windscreen
And some music to complete the scene
Each guitar line synchronises with each raindrop
Each blast of power thunder hits hard like heavy metal
But the soft clouds, the gentle ebb and flow lull me to sleep
Whispering, persuading me to dream
But I really don't want to miss this shard of time
I never want to lose little moments like these
A silver raindrop is born by landing on my car
Crash landing, rather
The bubbling pocket of mystery travels down
Swerving and slamming into other fellow pockets in crime
It's life cycle completes when it reaches the bottom
It races to it's death, unable to stop gravity's plan for it
Each drop morphs into another, making a wave
The rain weaves an intricate web of waves
All strutting their sparkly magic before me
I sense a metaphor for humanity creeping in
Millions of crescendos growing about
Too concerned with their internal politics to worry about others
But I stay focused on the beauty all around
I wonder if heaven has rainy days
If so, this must be one of them
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
Dear J,
I may be at a loss for words half the time, and the other half I might have too much to say, but I can almost always say this; I love you. I have felt fear and I have felt bravery and I have felt loss. I can look pictures of us and I can recall everything we did that day. I can listen to videos of you and I can tell what you felt. And I know that you didn't think I was paying attention, but I knew how you looked when you thought something was unfair. And I knew the look in your eyes when you saw the light just right in a sunset and you knew that nothing could ever be recreated quite like that. I felt the same way about you.
Wherever you are, know that loving someone isn't a matter of feeling something or not feeling something. It's a matter of knowing what you're feeling and when you need to let go.
I think that people know that letting go involves unfurling your fingers and watching something fall from a great height. It's the act of following that objects downward motion that gets to us. That once it meets the ground or whatever surface it is deemed to hit, it's gone. What was there is gone. And once you think about that you think of what could have been there. That one last touch, that one last feeling of bliss that comes with knowing that the moment you wake up the sun will be shining in rivulets through fingers that tangle in hair fresh off the pillow. It's sad to know that nothing like that will happen again.
The sun won't shine the same way. Instead it may simply fall. It won't cascade, it won't flow over the edges of noses or smiling lips. It's the same way water may lose a stone from a riverbed and from there on after it doesn't run quite the same way. But another stone, another pebble will fall in place because replacement happens.
I guess what I'm trying to say, is that letting go is letting someone else take a spot. In order for something else to happen you have to let your joints move out of their grip and unfold from their hold on something that wasn't meant to be held by you anymore.
Sometimes you have to let them land somewhere new.
I only hope that it's somewhere even more beautiful than before.
Claire
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
When you stepped in my door,
I realised I was Paradise
in my heart and soul.
You were so surefooted
because you came up from the high.
So long I longed for it.
O Fathima, only to kiss your feet!
The time was so sweet,
beyond anyone’s dream
only in pure beauty
I was rendering,
screaming to new highs.
I did it my way!
Lovely bouncing on
my polished pitch,
the rivers forget to flow
back to the seas.
But no one knew
where my toe melts!
Until you did
and took me for a tread
closer to your spring,
my sweet spot;
my sweet dream:
O Fathima, only to kiss your feet!
Your so pleased man wished
to rain down with love,
but humble you hid your feet!
You blinded the moon, snowed it
away under the seven seas.
No wonder it's
your winning footing.
Like the Prophet (PBUH) said:
I found me the heaven
beneath the mother’s feet.
O Fathima, only on your feet!
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 12:44 PM UTC
Your flame glows
And flame throws
Insane vibes
Than makes my viens flow
My body over heats
To temperatures Celsius unknown
our bodies taking measures
Heighten pleasures
Too bad to be a miracle
Too good to be forgotten
Memories clone
Yet, it's heaven sent
by principle
Our bodies quake with sensations
Unbelievable
Reaching heights without ******
unachievable
Take loving making to the next decimal
Feeding our appetites until we are plenty full
And our eruptions stop exploding
And we lay there motionlessly stile
Calm as a lonely
lake as satisfied as ice is chill
Cooling each other down
like the wind does the sun
Looking at each other like our work
here is done
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 11:40 PM UTC
the planets. the peaches.
pruned. picked. for the reaches.
the centuries. a second to the eternities.
you can have it. say laugh when. you hear the jazz note.
the voice of all that i spoke. the saxophone.
like dialing digits of truth. on the telephone.
come on. say one and two. up and down. the diversity in one single crown.
upon the ears of sound. it's the heart's listening device. toss it like rice.
at a wedding. human genes get paired up. and twisted.
so simple. it comes in flavors of licorice. red and black.
off and on. check the track. when the needle skips.
we find all these differences.
let me bring it back. for diversity.
zeroes and ones. spread the spectrum. across high and low frequencies.
it's so easy. let the record speak. can you stay on beat.
the principles of the high. the sincerity of the meek.
whatever lies between. is one or the other. blended across the centuries.
and all mothers. give birth to the last. man to the first.
follow that. discussion of high low.
mid ranges get blown. saxophone pace the flow. get pricked by the tweeters.
soul from the bass feeders. save the appetite. for the words that i write.
and then speak. you you. not me. splitting hairs. atoms. quarks. and light.
beams. like a smile. across a broad spectrum. either off. always on.
high low. then get gone.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
#
*paint me
with the wet tickle
of your tongue
lingering with affection
savoring my fervent flavor
in bold strokes
of your obsession
color my essence
in heated hues
sending shivers
down my spine
in anticipation
of your warm breath
against my flesh
with every blissful caress
to ensue painted petals
of animation
with your supple lips
gently blur the lines
of my curved hips
softly stroking
the subtle shadows
of warm depth,
blushing
quivering thighs
as I gasp
of breath
plunge in
a primer coated palette
dipping your stiff paintbrush
deep within
the folds of my blanket
manipulating
a trembling image
of your voracious lust.
craze me
again and again
in breathless
****** glow,
your sensual brushstrokes
gently murmuring
layer on layer
in alla prima flow
delve deep
into my eyes
paint splattering
the passion
of my soul
drizzling silken strands
of love
in their entirety,
polishing me whole
and then
in blissful backwash
admire
the tangled limbs
interposed
of your
completed masterpiece
in smiling
sated repose*
#
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 8:21 AM UTC
People are just as lovely
as sunsets,
Beautiful hues of pink,
will seep from their pores.
Astonishing shades of orange,
may flow from their hands.
Purple and blues
slide from their eyes.
You just have to be watching
at all the right times.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC
Anything can
look like a poem
and sound philosophical
simply by moving
the words on
different lines.
Am I doing it right?
Is this
really
talent?
Art?
Effort?
I think I am trying.
Really, I am
I go back and change the order
and I break lines
where it sounds right
But it does not take me long.
Not at all.
I try to be
intentional
and call it natural rhythm.
Instinct and style taking over
I alternate between
agonizing every detail
like When to Capitalize
and publishing free form poems without looking over them twice.
How is writing supposed to feel?
Should I labor?
or should it flow?
Or do I get to decide?
I think the things I talk of
mean something
at least.
But am I just
pretentious?
fooling myself into thinking that
using common poetry formats
somehow makes my work worthwhile?
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 5:12 PM UTC
A beauty you are out and within
Insatiable desire to write poetry on your skin
Your body my canvas feel my gentle brush
Writing ******* with my ****** touch
Cinnamon lips I love your tone
Soft and silky to the bone
Finding words..be my guide
As we connect I come inside
Filling each other..there's no strain
Steady my thoughts I must maintain
Watching my penmanship using a steady stroke
I start hallucinating from my mental smoke
Sends me into a frenzied flow
I'll find my pace..go on a roll
My words soak in as you taste
My emotions invade your inner space
Down from your toes..Up to your eyes
Writing Haikus between your thighs
Poetry on your body every inch
You start writhing from my Scorpion pinch
Sinfully venomous my words forever sink
Into your skin my poetic tattoo ink
As you lay naked I visually feast
Every line of your body a masterpiece..
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
These days have ebbed
as Love's swell was checked:
the waters in some places
- all but dammed!
But now at last
I sense the rising tide
and thank Temese
for the current's turn;
now following that great writhing snake
to where its pulsing head will rake;
over the mucky soiled watery beds
of Woolwich
Greenwich
Limehouse
- and under -
Tower Bridge
To that great gloating sight
A crown of a billion lights
Blazing day and night:
And somewhere within
In the slick oily warmth
Our flood tides mesh,
As over each other we wash.
Hard thrusts
wicked deep cuts
given and received
are recorded in that great mirror smoked!
where with a tug and a shove
on the banks
in the streets
through the loopy twists
everything prospers in the glow
as the decades decaying flow;
each ***** bud
red with new blood
one after t'other
flowers
before their purple petals scatter.
Let's on the luck o' the dice
(you 'n' me!)
ride out
on the flotsam and jetsom
that has carried us this far
and as pleases
merge.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC
load your bullets
in the firing chamber
and they'll fly
from your lips,
ricochet and lodge
past the scarce armor
of my ribcage
into this glass heart of mine
*let my insecurities bleed out
don't staunch the flow*
pierce my skin
with the shards of my heart
end my misery,
squeeze the trigger
with practiced ease
*breathe in,
breathe out
breathe in,
breathe out*
*(you'll find another victim
downrange of you)*
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
Like superman to your batman
I actually got power
Power with ink,
Power with flow
Don't even blink
I'll make your mind blow
Like my cape to your batmobile
How does it feel?
Knowing I can fly,
You just spinning your wheels
Throwing around money
While I'm saving the world
Like my Lois Lane to your Robin
I'll actually get the guy
You sitting there cryin
Cause money don't but happiness
Neither does fame
Just writing what I feel
And you'll never be the same
My Clark Kent to your Bruce Wayne
Might as well just give up
Cause you'll never be me
I'm just made of stronger stuff
Its the end of the line
Especially for you
Maybe it's time
To figure out what else you can do...
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
*The word disappointment weighs heavy inside my mind
It hangs on my shoulders like an anchor
It seeps from my pores
and causes blood to run from my veins
The girl in the mirror stands hollow and emptied by the world
lost in the desolation of space and time
she does not feel warmth;
she cant even will hot tears to flow from her eyes
she is left in silence-
with the word 'disappointment' haunting her thoughts*
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
Dont go chasing waterfalls
my girl
please
stay here with the lazy flow
under
willow trees
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
We made love under a tree
crazy me and obsessed thee
Ah! holding each other so tight
at the peeking pale twilight.
Caressing you from the nose,
sliding way down to your toes;
I made the chills run down your skin
kissing your cute trembling chin.
Locking your soft lips with mine
I used my tongue to give you a sign.
Closing the eyes, you went with the flow
You ripped my pant off and dragged it low
Excited by your aggressive touch,
I slowly removed your clothes.
And when I undid your red bra
you drew me closer and moaned ‘aahh’
You smelled sweet like the fresh smiling flowers
And you were all mine for quite a few hours
Your rapid hot breathe lured me more and more
I bit your ******* took our emotions to the core.
Delicately I went down and licked your ****
that seemed to have aroused you a bit.
Then you scratched my back with your nail
I was happy to see my moves leaving a trail.
Thus, it was time to go for the ultimate bliss
So I pulled you closer and gave a passionate kiss
Gently I resided my hardness in you to quench our lust
Up and down I moved but tenderly at first
With each swift push, you moaned loud
by seeing your amazing charm, I was wowed.
Time passed as we kept letting ourselves free
And this is how we made love under a tree.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
If I could tell you,
every thing you want to know,
I would,
but my walls are to hard to take down,
but every time,
you speak to me,
they crumble to the ground,
and i hope, you'll be by my side,
when death succumbs to me...
beautiful boy who cares,
you sing a song that only I can hear,
I cant get enough of you,
the happy little messages you send to me,
i cant explain,
you aren't like other boys.
oh, beautiful boy,
I've never felt this way before!
all the other girls and boys I've been with,
i never truly love this hard,
you understand my darkness,
you under stand my deadly thoughts,
Oh walk through the strawberry fields with me,
saying nothing is real,
walking on starlight and dancing in moon dust,
your hair capturing the shine of the night,
i want to give you the universe,
and hold your hand,
falling through the sun by your side,
capturing the light of your eyes,
picture yourself,
falling through time,
what thoughts will flow through your mind?
your hands held in mine,
in synchronized meditation,
open up your third eye,
were your atoms next to mine?
did our souls entwine?
picture yourself,
laying in a field of grass,
with your head next to mine,
watching the butterflies glide,
the seasons are changing,
are you still next to me?
with the leaves off the trees,
this isn't electric,
this is calm,
with explosive colors,
i'm not falling,
i'm walking,
i'm willingly going to you...
are you walking to me?
do you picture it too?
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 1:37 PM UTC
These spiritual window-shoppers,
who idly ask, 'How much is that?' Oh, I'm just looking.
They handle a hundred items and put them down,
shadows with no capital.
What is spent is love and two eyes wet with weeping.
But these walk into a shop,
and their whole lives pass suddenly in that moment,
in that shop.
Where did you go? "Nowhere."
What did you have to eat? "Nothing much."
Even if you don't know what you want,
buy _something,_ to be part of the exchanging flow.
Start a huge, foolish project,
like Noah.
It makes absolutely no difference
what people think of you.
28.1k
mirrored fly-glass
and polished chrome
are tinted
in the blood orange dawn
running dogs of lummi
hush quiet
on this celestial
summer morn
clubman bars
and tan saddles
strapped to
the lowered hind
skull caps
and fitted chaps
for the open flow
and rich peripheral scene
concessions at the peace arch
(from the blue-coat fuzz)
black *****
and maples
cake the bow hill
and chuckanut
choppers launch
at edison
(with their metal fleck
and tuft)
a half moon rises
on the concho
and interstellar cross
cinnamon gulls
and ravens
scour the netted docks
warlock driftwood
and row homes
spot the winding
coastal roads
rumbling sounds
at the packer slew ~
with the redolence
of briny bay
alive
on the overlook
at fairhaven
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 5:55 PM UTC
sometimes,
i like to dance
with the devil
burning eyes upon me
in hypnotic dazzle
my toes easily
sweep away inhibitions
quieting my angelic
voice's suspicions
as whispered words
brush thine ear
my entranced ego
has no fear
endangering
as it may be
our bodies entanglement
appears free
with soaring thoughts
of ecstasy
we ebb and flow
in ****** mystery
seduced in music
playing rhythmically
ecstatically,
i dance willingly
Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
When I m Dead,
Your Tears May Flow,
But I Wont Know,
Cry For Me Now, Instead..
When I am Dead,
You Will Send Flowers,
But I Wont See,
Send them Now, Instead..
When I M Dead,
You Will Say Words Of Praise,
But I Wont Hear,
Praise Me Now, Instead..
When I am Dead,
You Will Forget My Faults,
But I Wont Know,
Forget them Now, INSTEAD…!
When I am Dead,
You Will Say I Was Great,
If You Tell it Now I Will Feel proud,
So Please Don't Wait, tell that Now, INSTEAD…!
When I am Dead,
You Will Come To My Grave And Whisper "I Loved You, Why You Left",
But I Will Not Be Able To Fill You In My Arms,
Don't Wait if You Have To Express, tell that Now, INSTEAD…!
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 11:21 AM UTC
He's in too deep.
He can't seem to think.
Just how low
do you think he will he sink?
Caught in the undertow
of the current flow.
He treads
Slow
It can make or break what you knew
if you ride the rapids threw.
Will they take Scuba Steve too!?
He wont swim for the shore.
to avoid once more
the beauty in store
Only to find...
That he always wants more.
he learned from the past
but his oxygen can't last
and his air
Is depleting fast
high in the speed
and the passing sea ****
I heard Scuba Steve plead
I'm in too deep
and I can't seem to think
Just how low
Do you think
I will sink?
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
From time to time
You forget the world around you
All you feel is nothing
your mind is empty
Your heart is calm
Nothing matters
You feel hypnotised
The river you just created
That lets the red anxiety flow
That leaves you with a feeling
Of numbness
The river is getting deeper
You are getting calmer
You do it over and over
Even though you know
It will be even worse very very soon
You still have now
You still have this
For once you feel ok
And you wonder
Maybe it's ok
To create your own waterfall
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 5:08 PM UTC
Jack and Jill ran up the hill,
To perv on miss muffin
Getting her fill,
She was getting it hard boiled
From Humpy Dumpty,
Who fell of the wall,
Yolk sprayed up her back,
Her screaming she wanted more.
Mary, Mary,
Quite Contrary...
How did you make it grow,
You played with the bells,
And my cockle shells and it did grow,
Mary, Mary,
Quite Contrary
Not much words to show,
A mouth your good at what you do,
Mary my sweet little bike I like to ride so.
Old Mother Hubbard
Liked it up the back cupboard,
From the younger gents
She knows,
She liked to **** meat till the marrow
Did flow swallowed the lot in one go,
Now empty is the bone.
Who thought a lady in years,
Had all this energy on the go...
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC