Aprajita Jul 1
There is a very thin line between love and hate;
When one heart yearns for another don't deject
A heart filled with love does blooms; Into a beautiful flowers with time and patience
But a heart filled with malice withers itself;
And everyone around it, In a blink.
Unnamed Series Part-2

:)
the crimson of a rose
in the air
leaving on a cold winter day
in old pots
on old tables
spilling its petals

onto the hallways and little rooms of sunlight.


do the churches lead somewhere divine?
Each midnight on the seventh day
in shadow worlds of smoky gray
a blanket chill, impending harm
take stance within its stark alarm.

The first one grew on Branton brook
where crisps of water gently look
with wide eyes at the quandary
of what the nevermore could be

And several grew in Hillwright fields
of pastured greens and blues and teals
who search impassioned, blistery
yet find no less a mystery.

But genesis of nevermore
lies faraway beyond before
in times of hope that time began,
and every seed an angel then.
They saw the future far ahead,
saw deathly poisons, masks of dread
and watched as greed undraped the earth,
a savage rape before its birth.




Sow each great seed
and deeply cry.
Disaster in its lullaby.
As secrets lurk behind the door,
the blossom screams its nevermore
This one is about a type of flower that screams ... I should just stop eating junk food while writing. :):)
Sam Hawkins Jun 2016
Cat three-tooth, cat stone-deaf, cat sidewinder walk,
Old Bealman stalked the croaking, the croaking,
with forepaws meek stroking
airs of a summer cool night.

Bealman, Bealman, Meow & Sealman,
Pacing, still racing, one two three man.
Bealman—frog fisher & free.


Delphinium, the roses, lupine interposes
a shadow of fortressed green leaf
disguises the notion my Bealman supposes—
to seize, dismember it through,
make self-concocted, dishering frog stew.

Bealman, Bealman, Meow & Sealman,
Pacing, still racing, one two three man.
Bealman—frog fisher & free.


Night hours accounting, morning’s surmounting,
a bird warning Bealman, his patience to thin.
Croaking still blending, a flower stalk was bending,
two legs, peaking out, sent Bealman straight in.

Bealman, O my Bealman, Meow & Sealman,
Pacing, still racing, one two three man.
Frog fisher & free.


I saw Bealman beaming; I saw Bealman beaming.
How cats manage beaming I’ll wonder again.
Since Bealman was twenty, any beaming is plenty.
I loved my old Bealman, my frog fisher friend.

Bealman, Bealman, My Meow Dear Sealman,
Bealman—frog fisher & free.
remembering my sweet cat, in a song
I was a fragile plant,
before I became a barrel cactus.
This is the pain I had to undergo in order
To yield into the beauty flower I am today.
This is my tale.

In the desert there I was introduced,
the roasting sun heating me.
I had to dream and conquer goals.
A Vivacious soul rising in my veins
Growing and maturing as I adapt to the heat of the sun.
Counting the days to be sturdy and soar
as a lively barrel cactus.
Tempted to sabotage my purity.
For that you,
Made sure I knew you were always into my vulnerable roasting world
with that trust,
you decided to talk to me.
You decided to be a friend
Whom I knew to take as a best friend,
Because you understood me more than other.
And I had faith in you,
to be an auxiliary friend  
I needed.
To have a friend like you.
To never be lonely with no one to speak to,
looking for a safe friend to confide my life.
This was the moment.
Where....
I final knew you.
You were modest to trust in.
You would stab me to become happy when I was angry,
with your happiness causing poison.
Over and over you stabbed.
Ruptured the veins of my boredom and loneliness.
Stabbing your poison
lightened my life,
becoming
hopeful,
colorful.
I will always question  God
Where is she?
when I shed out a tear of loneliness.
Where is she?
when am unhappy with no one to give me your happiness causing poison.
will say, I miss her ,
when you went, I asked God
Why do I get best friends for a short time,
and in a flash they are gone?
I had lost
My poison causing happiness.
But one thing I can truly say
You made my days a blast.
You imprinted a change in my life.
You were a gift to me.
To show me what strength I am capable of.
That was the light that I found.
I am a barrel cactus,
Which was lonely until you came.
Love you Granny!
Walking and saying
Things our wellbeing
The soul needing love possessions
Have absolutely no meaning

Playing and praying
Overstaying and Under-paying
Rising sun and Symphonic searching

" Is this the way it is?" Tis the season

But the tightness no business like
searching business
  She is combined and mixed like a song
fully lined both with keynotes somehow
we declined
The feeling that you cannot breathe
or  trust both of us
 we can  bearly suck it all in
My music playing just click my belt buckle
Will start to begin

The soul is not a crime or just a rhyme
I barely cannot breathe
I am in a chuckle, you see his
smile raising up his dimple

Ms. Thumbelina cobblestone
narrow-minded street your
in the tightrope symphonic beat

But its dark outside your ringlets
Waved him on got excitedly mesmerized
His Goblet of wine she curls up in
his body heat brilliantly dazzled
The sky to your dreams he is
reaching your
soft side skin
whats actually within
our souls

So  hooked into your ride not to slide
better grades and goals
The awesomeness symphonic hatter
Victorian divineness
Her paper cut out hearts as real
as they come
The Eastside Symphonic tip of his
Heavenly Bliss private Quarters
What becomes of the broken hearted
Heads or dimes not landing on her stone
Floor heart
The Duke of all trades of the hat he's smart

Cool running erotic
Addictions to the mind so fanatic
What a good soul sometimes
He overexaggerates about
love and fate darkness drives him demonic
What are you kidding me
She doesn't rest her heart on his
soul for the burning desires of food
for thought
She keeps piling his poems like any sport
He's her everything she learns to be taught

Searching lips pricing
Red bloodshot eyes of crying onions
She is so fierce controlling
Musically like a Tiger roaring
He is like a design of graphics tattoo
The earring piecing the sweetest taboo

More soul searching
She's the snake purse
to his snake eyes fancy,
he took a ride
Upper-false teeth
The upper west side
have some prideThe dark side
became her thing
The wildflower not to stand to
bloom and bang like her band

Westside sounds came deep
his pride and joy like a parade
and wickedly dark his charade

It was  sneaking up on her backside
And the other side was just hiding
and smiling
She definitely saw the light lamp post how
the smells came stronger the darkness of desire
she was famished not to have vanished

Feeling like a pot roast love continued
She had a gift for her lover, not the
toast who would brag to boost
Two Bloody British what
divine glasses at a cost
The symphonic soul
captured them like the
Dark-Knight of words
Symphonic sounds came
hearing names
soulful hummingbirds buzz-net

And there weren't any more
words there was silence
Eating shepherds pie table was set

Taking over another soul that's a lie
just like magic searching for a love
so long ago became tragic
You need more perseverance
Her true love gave her
an incredible sixth sense
of deliverance
The top seat at the concert
classical wicked taste of music
candescent erotically sonic

She had this certain quality
He was a symphonic love bounty
Her lips moved so fitting fantastically
The flower shops caught her eye
She couldn't sense what was real or a lie
The fast pace of the people all worked up.
What a soulful smell music sounds
she faintly known

To her ear wanted to hear only him shown

Besides the faintly illuminated
shapes evergreens were
heartily trimmed
She stood out bright as the ground
She was turning gray losing reality
not to be found or heard
So soulful her lips speak
she was walking with her head up
in the air fancy dancey
How those men could speak.
You could smell all the ethnic
flavors of foods
She felt the search for something
of a Saint, she was trying to
hard to be good
What a Haydn, his wife
was the mad hair driving

Miss Daisy soul of hers crazy curled
inside her book
She's the lady-like curler
How he played through her hair
Hunchback of Notre Dame who was to blame?
How his eyes wondered playing
and observing
But she was holding his stare

like a womanizer and his eyes flew
what a haunting moon
But Samatha the harp shady tree
He said, my fair lady,
He's stringing something together

What! creepypasta but sometimes her powers were weak
The symphonic love potent every other week

Some Gothic man symphonic music started
Playing Rossini Opera he could stand on his head.
She was pinned to his eyes
Pinterest such interest
she was all bloomed like a fly

By witches, flower came he passed her and he knew exactly who she was as is but wait not his?
The pleading the beg humbug far from her tunes of the ladybug

Razzamatazz all body of Jazz jitterbug
He winked she-devil
summoned him on
What a binding spell
She wiped the sweat off her face
She was beautiful with pale
porcelain skin
So alluring walking
with her parasol
This is my darkness of a read I hope you enjoy flowers even if they perk you up if they are the darkness stay alive to bloom there will always be a flower like you
Under the blanket
Of the cloak of night
I tended my garden
I reached for the seeds of the stars of night
And drew them down to Earth
To relish them forever
Sweet fruits, apples, and pomegranates
And rose buds in bloom
Permeated the air like sweet incense
I fed myself of the beautiful trees
Which grew too numerous to count
But nightmares arose from deep within
When I slumbered beneath the tree
I dreamt of falling
Fleeing to the ocean's depths
My bones were brittle
And my face was covered
In filth and stench
From roving in the desert
My hair was matted
And my eyes bulged from their sockets
My tears were running dry
I did not deserve this torment

~

So I sank and saught the truth

~

The bottoms were pleasantly beautiful
I befriended monsters there
And remember the seaweed
Toying with my hair
In time, I arose as Mother of the Sea,
As Venus
Yet another garden was claimed by me
And I harkened to their call
To come to know
This destiny of mine

~

I swelled in the gardens of others
Until I needed to return
When the student is ready
Their teacher appears
And I am a willing student of life!

~

That's when I saw him from afar
And my world would change forever
I peeked at him through the willows
He was shining iridescence itself
I've met others like him before
If I knew what was in store
Would I still approach?
Knowing me, probably!
He whispered that I was a wanted woman
He's the first that saw my soul as true
Everyone else misunderstood
Or feared my intentions
Towards them
While I hungered for fruits
I could never receive again

~

I am barred from the land by the river
Why would He do this to me?
The Universe's eyes aren't shut
And have 20/20 vision
His servant always maintained sure distance
From his most prized possession

~

He gave me his cloak
A garment of protection
The dark night
And elevated me thusly
I took on another form
As beautiful as any
I vowed not to harm his Master's garden
~

So I tended mine
With stars of night
And rain and snow
With bountiful deer and squirrels
If I knew the curses thrown
Would I have stayed in the sea
If I knew that ruling the skies of night
Would bring this upon me
I would still stay where I am today
I how this seventy tomes seven

~

My garden bears fruit gloriously
But I long to bring honor
To my garden
By making his mandrakes
My own

~

All hail to these
Three times three

~

The first pear I tasted
The first apple that fell
The first time I glowed
And knew the Never - Uttered

~
... the longing to be like Him! ...
.... the pang to be His mandrake!....
          The love we once shared
Please, God
Give me one more
Bite!
~
Lord, what have I done?
He raised me up
And I dragged him down
Now we must spend eternity this way
In foxholes and carcasses
Always dying to relive the recent past
When morning glories were my favorite flower

~

... he shielded me
And I was cast away from the Garden
And it's fruits forever
I wander the desert once again
But this time
I am not alone

~

We roamed...
He offered me a desert flower
And bade me to plant
From it sprang a river stream  
To sustain our coagulating blood
It did not satisfy
We fell
And in each other's eyes we found the key
To drown out exile' s realities
I saw the sun's rays in his eyes again
The dark nights will not be gloomy anymore
The Name of God is no longer a four letter word
We fell down
Again and again
And the more we fell
The more, before our eyes
This garden
Our garden
Grew

~

We tended our garden
Until then

~

Contemplating on Jehovah
Grieves my heart
Until it rips open and I spill my blood
The animals retreat
My plants for
Because my blood has been spilled
Innocent blood
Within my own garden
My lover has left
My night lamp
To become the hunt
And perish
For the unspoken
Uncherishef
.  The defiled .

We will never share our garden
Again evermore
This poem is long expect additions and edits
Based on Revelations of the Dark Mother
CeilingStar Dec 2017
I love you more than the sun shines

you are my sun to replace the sun,
to sprout my little sunflowers as tall as you

you are my diamond dusted stars,
guiding me, inspiring me, entrancing me

you are the face on my beloved moon,
for I rest and wake only for you  

you are my world, without you it withers like the obsolescent radiance of the fiery sunset

everything in it, down to the tiniest flower, is all for you

a world only for you,
and you eclipse the most salient thing in it:
the sun

‎باموت فيك

KG
Muted Jul 4
i long for pleasant days.
days that feel like new beginnings,
days when i feel as if i am floating,
when each and every
fiber of my being
feels content with letting go,
tying loose ends,
shedding dead skin.
when my body no longer
feels unworthy of
occupying a space in this dimension,
when my brain no longer
allows toxicity to occupy a space
within it.
i long for moments of silence.
solace for my soul,
a place for the skeletons
in my closet to
rest their dust-covered heads.
i long for happy summers.
when i no longer fear
the thought of love.
when i no longer imagine love
as an ugly weed,
devouring a flower bed.
when i no longer imagine you
resting in someone else's.
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