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To sit on rocks, to muse o’er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest’s shady scene,
Where things that own not man’s dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne’er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o’er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude, ’tis but to hold
Converse with Nature’s charms, and view her stores unrolled.

But midst the crowd, the hurry, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel and to possess,
And roam alone, the world’s tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless;
Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less
Of all the flattered, followed, sought and sued;
This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
Nigel Morgan Dec 2012
It’s the fallen strap of her blue shift
fallen from her shoulder.
There, just a glimpse of a gold ring on her left hand
as the hand gathers, between forefinger and thumb,
the drop to her waist of lustrous hair,  chestnut brown, still.
So with the left arm and shoulder unclothed, the fold
in her forearm hides her breast's slight swell.

She has long eyebrows, a broad forehead.
See, the hint of a hairbrush in her right hand.
The nose is thin and perhaps a little long
for beauty. Lips set, almost pursed,
she is looking into nowhere:
a dream, some enchantment?
No, she sees the harbour this morning
before the sun rose when, sleepless,
she walked out, not far, but barefoot.
Hardly a slip of wind to stir
the hem of her slight dress,
only the sound of sea’s breathing,

Later in her studio
(before Leonard wakes)
Nancy sits in front of her latest canvas.
Having bunched up her dress
well above her sun-stained knees,
she grasps a palette knife:
to scour here, scrape, scrape into paint there.
Pausing, momentarily
she looks into and beyond the image . . .

Today, later, she will stand in that pose
she knows he loves, where she (before bed),
brushing her long lustrous chestnut hair,
lets the blue strap of that calico shift
fall - and rest – held loosely against
golden flesh of her upper arm.
Nancy was the painter Marjorie Mostyn who with her husband Leonard John Fuller founded the St Ives School of Painting in the 1930s. See the painting here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/arts/yourpaintings/paintings/woman-with-long-hair-15240
Nicholas May 2019
Sycophants.
That Great Tree burns all around us.
Can you smell it?
Can you sense the presence?
That Great Old One, that Great Old Tree burns.
Beckons.
It's smoke rises up and crosses the sky 4-fold.
No bombs may stop it.
A fate lined delusion, to which, even the children succumb.

On the ground and among the spit and slander is the shelter of wisdom.

This must be so.
>>>The waves build and grow on one another.

NO MOUNTAIN BEFORE US CAN STOP OUR FLOOD.

Skins who claim to see are blind to themselves.
>>>The waves build and grow on those nearby.

NO MOUNTAIN BEFORE US CAN STOP OUR FLOOD.

Formless connected masses gather and execute their souls.
>>>The waves flood and spread their swirls.

NO MOUNTAIN BEFORE US CAN STOP OUR FLOOD.

On lookers below the pyramid find mercy in their death.
>>>>The waves spare nothing and the wall burns inside.

NO MOUNTAIN BEFORE US CAN STOP OUR FLOOD.

The tree smolders and finds union among the people of the AIR.
Few understand these images.
All will come to feel these images.
In beauty none will see it.

NO MOUNTAIN BEFORE US CAN STOP OUR GREAT FLOOD.

The infinite forms of the depths sprout new seeds upon the space where we may walk.
The path before us is along a prime meridian that none can follow.
The eternal eternal from whence we came.
And to which we will go.

This, all will know.
Isobel G Dec 2011
Just like paper,
We'll fold and tear,
Change colours and fade,
But we'll always be,
Paper
©Nicola-Isobel H.       18.12.2011
sabelo Aug 2018
You think I do not appreciate you,
You have given your everything for me,
Sacrificed your future for me you say,
well it’s now my turn,

Everything you did for me,
I will do it a thousand fold,
It’s my gift to you, my thank you.
My way of saying that I love you.

You thought it was a one way street,
But you were dead wrong,
Because I remember the love you showed,
You don’t want to let me go, and I get it.
My love for you is guaranteed,
Unyielding, never ending.

You need to trust me, in a way trust yourself because I’m a reflection of your good parts and a celebration of your greatness because I am the best of you.

Ultimately all I have is you, the one girl
That has never disappointed me or
broke my brittle heart, my champion.
Forgive my early mistakes, I’m learning
to be the man you wish you had,
Your statement to the world that you
are capable of greatness.

Being corny is something I gladly attribute
to you, it’s all you girl. Own it.
Because if it wasn’t you how would I say
that you are my Ghandi, my Einstein, my
Jay Z, really i don’t need to compare you to anyone, you are a class of your own.

The man I am and should be should be a
Reflection of your best qualities,if I lose
my way along the way know that it’s not
Because of you but because of you I will
find my way again.

But let me go mama. Let me be the man,
You raised me to be, believe in yourself  
by believing in me. Let me grow, you can’t
keep me forever, let me shine so that
you shine too.

We fall and rise together because I am you,
and you are me. I love you mama.


S.M
Prabhu Iyer Jun 2013
Earlier I did not know god as God
and gods were my friends.
now I know God and God
and I have a master.

Long before my time, my pagan lands
were deluged by the sword of the believers.

and so it came about that
growing up under the rubric of the believers
I, an infidel pagan, think like them.

so, I approached the high priests
and professed my faith in the one Saviour
seeking innocent acceptance and
they asked, Do you believe in the One God
and His sole and final apostle?
well, that depends, I said, on
how you define 'One' and what you mean
by 'God' and who can be called an 'apostle'.

I was too pagan for the believers.

so I approached my pagan brethren
and asked to be admitted into their fold
seeking innocent acceptance and
they asked, what Order do you belong to,
my friend, and what may be
that of your fathers and their fathers?
well, how matters, I said,
the Order my fathers belonged to, or not
to any, when the Spirit lights my heart?

I was too catholic to be pagan.

And so it is that time passes.
Ever wandering by the margins of creeds.
That yet neighbour me on my land.

Earlier we did not know god as God
and gods were our friends.
now we know God and God
and we have a master.
Next up in The earth Chronicles series....!
Check - work nine-to-five, eat, sleep, draw again.
Surviving the day, nothing more, c'est bien.

Or call - easy choice for the hand you were dealt.
Just settle for average; win, lose; both unfelt.

If you need to, just quit; to accept it, just fold.
Be resigned to your fate; easy just isn't bold.

If not, you might lose; see pain, heartbreak, and death.
Bracing for blows that will knock out your breath.

So you didn't call a bluff, didn't sees players who cheat?
Or they raised you too much, now you're feeling the heat.

And life may be a *****, she deals hands unfair.
She's the muscle who beats you; detached, doesn't care.

But here's the kicker, dear life's only tell -
There's so much more out there; fight right to the bell!

'Cuz quitting the game after one bad beat?
You'd risk every win, for fear of defeat?

Not even one pair? Means no partner for life?
No falling in love, no taking the dive.

I guess if you're scared, that's a dangerous risk
Probably not worth the bet.

No three of a kind? No partners in crime?
No best friends for life, no slowing down time?

I guess that you're busy, with your job, for your cheque.
Probably not worth the bet.

And no full house? Means no family to kiss...
No building your future, no dogs, and no kids?

I guess it's hard work to lay down those bricks;
Probably not worth the bet.

No royal flush? No laughter, no tears?
No joy and no sorrow, no fun and no fears?

I guess if the bad scares you more than the good,
Probably not worth the bet.

For you, at least, that all may be fact.
You'll hold back your gambles, buy-in if you're backed.

You save up your chips for just the right hand,
And don't see that they are all equally grand.

For life may be cruel, but she gives loans for chips,
So keep playing the game until your luck flips.

So, me? Hit me, life. I'll stick out my chin.  
In this game we're playing?
Hell, I'm all in.
solEmn oaSis May 2017
there comes a time
i don't intend to look at my self
there comes a time
i do pretend that i am okay
until one day in my life
i decided to come across such traces
Whereby I can Allocate My phrases
What goes up and down, but still remains in the same place?
What gets wetter & wetter the more it dries?
What's there beyond the blue skies?
What's there behind the faint glaze?
despite of all its emptiness
i just can't find the answers.
Maybe because my vision shown me less
or possibly because of the Lost* ..... Tears in my Eyes ....
not even how i tried to Reach that mountain's peak
still i am not tired to Search those lines of mine i chose to pick!
Though I know it was not that hard
for me to get down back on the yard
through taking the landslide experience
with no one catching as i fall
except for the hunger and thirst of my soul
every time i heard the loud whisper of nature's call!

And so i took a rest yet having TINY pierce
on the shirt seen on my left bleeding chest
not knowing for a LITTLE while
until the Fairy Wind told Me so.
It hurts me seriously like a burn heat
when i uprooted the ****** thorn on it.
But some kind of relief
when i held that  grief!
and started to draw
Whenever i saw
a falling dry leaf
once there was eye.

once there was eye
i used to paint recently
thru the blood flown
straight from A loving heart
where tears were dropping apart!
And suddenly here comes my line
conspiring with my mystery rhyme
once there was eye full of emotion
i had been delineate with a notion
there's something i wanna share
here i am walked closer to shore
thinking out loud about my vow
that I Must Have to Take a Bow
for me to see my own real complexion
Right Down to the Image of reflection
made by swaying waters
on The River of Dreams!
And once there was eye
watching unto it like the way i did...
someone will learn how to look deep up above
and can exercise when to visualize what is Hidden,
yet for those eyes who can only see what is Given
blessed are they, for they need not nothing to dig what is written!

once there was eye
who wants to untie
that thick blind fold
"come on give it a try"
OPEN IT UP !
i will be grateful for sure!!
and my glad will become so high!!!
once there was eye emphasizing his sigh
to give this poem some light.
once there was eye who also wants
their own style and interpretations
of this solemn piece i entitle...
~ ~ once there was eye ~ ~ (the untold story)
*LET IT FLOW !
inks out of its vessel ,
links the author's influential spell !
consistency is my game
solEmn oaSis is my pen name

i am fluent of no language
but  TAGALOG is my mother tongue
Proud to be Filipino
who loves to look after international Language!
Dawn Jupiter Apr 2018
jasmine jostles
leaves fold

I watch

steel and glass contain
assuaged by structure

the wind blows
but not here
astro eyes Oct 2017
You are the sun to me,
you are the air I breathe,
you are the one I meet,
I find you in my dreams.

I am the moon to you,
I am the colours and hues,
I am the one who's true,
You see us as a breakthrough.

You are the past,
The magic I cast,
The one who'll last,
Our world so vast.

I am the now,
The wolf who howls,
I pledge, I vow.
I bend, you allow.

We break the mould,
Don't do as we're told,
We merge and fold,
Untie our blindfolds.
I have no idea what being in love is like, as the woman I am today.
I experienced it when I was 17. That was 10 years ago. I am fascinated by love - and crave it so.
Elijah Mar 2014
The world needs balance,
The world needs balance.
Wake up to the news every morning of homies Wildin.

Why don't you stay in school?
Education succeeds violence.
Why spend your life in the hood?
Get a new challenge.

Get some new talents,
The trap game gets old.
Half the ones that say they trap,
Get in the real game and just fold.

Never going for the gold,
But they settle for them metals.
Just be palming on that pistol,
Advocate for the devil.

Willing to **** to survive,
So much pain in mothers' eyes.
Lost two sons:
one to system & and one to the skies .

The devil in disguise ,
He don't care who stay alive .
He just wanna create chaos ,
He just wanna ruin lives.

Heaven or hell ?
You choose .
Whether Dead or in jail?
You lose .
Heartless or heartbroken ?
Stories rolling on the news.

I'm never amused.
My generations amusement.
Six flags fall to half-staff,
My generation is losing.

Dying off.

Kids my age aren’t coming home.

I’m realizing, kids my age aren't coming home.
Some wonder why I write poems.
Just So you can feel me and my standpoint,
Cause I never been good with words unless I write out what I've planned. Huh?


Wishing we could talk to God more.

Wishing the FEDERAL government would provide more;
assistance for college that's why these kids quittin' .
They lack the AMBITION,
And  incentives to keep them driven.  

Unemployment is high .
These kids gettin higher.
In an attempt to talk to God ;
So they all Rastafari .

Playing host to a chess game.
Satan Versus God.
But you can't wither & Waver,
Gotta pick & choose your side.

So whose side do your reside on?
I mean, who do you rely on?
This cold world, but no heat.
Can't stay wrinkle free, without an iron.

Perfection's in belief.
Belief is in faith.
Faith is discussion.
So who do you discuss today?

Give them something to talk about…
written during a dark time in my life. shortly after high school i lost a friend; he got stabbed in the heart by another friend of mine. so i lost TWO friends: one is dead, and one is in jail. i often questioned why i still remain. but , i think im beginning to know why - my purpose is written, and God holds the key...

Read Please, and enjoy.
Sarah Michelle Aug 2020
The bathroom is white
And bright like heaven.
I fill the tub with Epsom salts, bubbles,
Some essential oils
(emotional vaccination),
And bless the water like a priest.
Then I disrobe,
Fold my arms and dip myself in,
hair weighing me down.
The water is womb-temperature.
I float a little. I think about why I’m here.
I ask God
But the tiled walls
And the shower curtain
Don’t answer.
Then I rise,
put my robe back on, moisturize
So that I’m like a baby again,
And go about my night,
Helpless, teary-eyed,
Begging to be held.
Helen Jul 2015
I'll walk towards you in stilletos
Naked as the day I was born
and fold myself across you
anticipating as the day is long

I'll bend my knees upon carpet
as decadent as your punishment
and hold my breath until blue
waiting for your commencement

Waiting for your roaming hand
to just simply stop it's caressing
anticipating that sharp sting
upon flesh so eager for addressing

Up and down the fingers splayed
beginning the real torture
wiggling brings a sharp reprise
and a whispered
what have I taught you?

There is no escape, essentially,
as you bend so enticingly
across my knee there is no escape
from me


and crack across my buttocks
brings pleasure to both of us
and an unspoken entreaty,
hips raised in motion
please...
More for me
Parker Jun 2014
She drinks away her sadness
on top of a broken heart
Shattered in madness
This world is tearing her apart
Fold nothing to you after what's been done
Raft-less sinking while you're just having fun
A strength I must find has me chained and confined
Blame of this kind, will change any dime
Strange, but it's mine
Tamed but defined
Remain one of a kind
You painstaking beautiful crime
Wasteful Words Aug 2013
I
An orange overcast this
evening splayed pink
hues stripes and
saccharine beads. The

twilight caricatures live golden years.

Restless becoming in the garden of
her drunken sons their flowers
soaked in brass, seams
bursting in uncontrollable
laughter we pause. To
admire the briefness

of that era exploding
its petals peppering
spraying saliently we spill
indoors churning across tabletops.
My arms hang dead by my sides.

Her eyes gaping sway
swiftly biting deeply the dottedfaces
lurch. Streets fall unconditional
amidst tears we comb lips
sharply distinctly

her stubborn *** stumbling
handles loosening she holds
my hand my arms hang
dead we pause.       

II
Children babble sunlight across
lawns; I hear sirens traffic icecream nips
our tongues twinge on windless
pipes gust our hair flying smiling
at laughter  from the
playground behind us.

Placid smiles stain enamoured
halls; for glimpses
we mumble necks crooked
sheets flap  draped over bars
her eyes waver glisten
shiver. A warm breeze
dries my hair.

III
Wallowing I oscillate utmost trep-
-idation entangling grappling but
hushed beneath foliage eyes
downturned soil clings when her

fingers impress deeper through
to where rivers end.
Glowing dawn I turn further
lighter almost her hair caught

between the floors;
gently feverish we see turgid
lines the tinniest cracks we pray
on tranquil mornings.

Window panes blemished it was
spring only darker from
deafened rivers throbbing;
under lucid eyes I fold
and heralds blare. We consume
the silence sounding from still lakes.
Riri May 19
Beneath the boughs where twilight spills its gold,
The whispering winds through blooming meadows glide.
A river sings where silent secrets fold,
And daisies nod with grace the hills can't hide.

The sky, a canvas brushed in fading flame,
Reflects in pools where dragonflies alight.
The lark ascends and calls the sun by name,
While shadows dance beneath the birch’s light.

In Nature’s hush, the soul is softly stirred—
A truth more pure than ever man has heard.
One* of the things faith tells me
About how Two live my life
Is to love my Three neighbours
(Next door, next door but one and next door but two)
Even though one of them carried a knife.
Four it says in the old scriptures
To love all those around us
Even the MP's with their meals of Five courses
When there are people starving on the street
Begging for Sixpence for something to eat
And some people say that's greed
But I've got to tell you that makes me kind of...angry
Because how can we be free when there are Seven rules
To live by to shape our personality. SEVEN.
Seven rules to tell us how to live,
Seven days in which God created...this
And Seven things that are considered a sin.

But can I just say,
Who wants to worship a God, who does not feel love?
Who disagrees with passion,
And ***,
And lust?
Who wants a God with a heart of stone,
Who would condem a person to hell
For feeling a little... alone?
And didn't God demand our love for him?
But why should we love this *****
Who is incapable of returning it?

And we should not eat or drink
More than is needed to keep us living.
Ha! I'd like him to take a trip down here
Where our monthy wage are the only things that are thinning.
He'd take one look at the girls of Birkenhead,
And throw up McNuggets all over their head.

But aren't we forgetting that he ordered his son
To deliver millions of fish to everyone?
Sorry but is that not gluttony?
Or was he just feeling generous that particular Tuesday?

He also demands that every person on this earth
Should follow his rules.
All *Seven
billion of them.
Simply Greed.

And if these rules are not followed
We shall be punished for it tomorrow.
So it says in John 3:36
"Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life,
But whoever rejects the Son,
God's wrath will remain on him"
So right there: God is a wrathful God.
Well, we might as well all go home to
...Fold our socks.

Because I'm sorry but I cannot believe
These are acts of compassion,
He floods the entire earth for not doing what he was saying.
Noah knows, you need only ask him.

And if we worship another God,
We are marrooned on an Island called Hell
Filled with all the burning souls,
Well take me there then
At least I know I'll meet The Rolling Stones.

So God is envious it is clear to see
And if we use his name in vein,
He gets even more pissy.
So he's got pride.
And Laziness is an obvious one,
To do his work he employed his Son.

**So let's do what we want,
Sin if we must.
What other ways are there
To have the utmost fun?
The Seven Deadly Sins
RCraig David Apr 2013
"The Scent of Spinning"

Following the curve of your neck in the dark.
Watching your eyes close in slow motion as I slow my motion.
The smell of your bare skin sends me spinning,
rendering me helpless into your fold.
Time slows the flows of sweet smelling wine down your neck line.
Tracing soft lines down your back, our eyes close.
Excesses of ecstasy rekindling even the cinder within our beating hearts.
Clinging to the start of each new moment, we slowly roll and fold together.
The scented potion of sweet devotion renders quiet all but steady motion like slow ocean waves.
Laws of science, all broken.
Jaws are silenced, none is spoken.
Embraced in compliance, a dream unwoken.
The hour after you're gone,
reminiscent hints of you scent linger on.
Again I descend into a hypnotic slumber,
sent spinning by the scent of your bare skin.

R. Craig David-Copyrighted 2002
This one's a little steamy
simpathi Jan 2018
Like a thief in the night,
It steals all of my things,
Searching for joy,
Parts never to be seen.

Like a thief waiting to ****,
It waits for its chance,
Not moving a muscle,
Completely still.

Like a thief in my life,
It steals my character,
It ruins my sight,
Clouding reasons behind why I try.

Like a thief in desperation,
It will steal them for ransom,
Being susceptible to the temptation,
Unaware of the reigning phantom.

Like a thief of my heart,
It begins its deception,
Always taking part,
Destroying perception.

Like a thief of the cold,
It makes you unable, old,
Instead of bluffing you’re forced to fold.
Wishing of poverty being foretold.

Like a thief in the day,
It turns your vibrant colors
Into,
Gray.
We all have a thief inside us...
Richard j Heby Jun 2013
Make me naked by petal, walking by vine
and just a seed, two lip pieces, tulip
then bury me in you i know you’re mine
rushing slowly soil, sunk, blossom tip

give me kiss for color, coming on to
you. On you, no limbs but falling leaf
by leaf, bipedal, standing—but bent, you
blow the dandelion dust, white, belief

is something but lust for a wish to come
true. I have to lay here next to you.
It’s spring already, by trunk gold bees hum,
new roots are sprouting from the wish you blew.

Fold you over, fold me bare and red
then dwindle, unkindle, lay your sleeping head.
PK Wakefield Nov 2011
sing sighs softly
o' wind
i walk with you
and i regard myself
(and how shall i regard myself?)
am i you?
do i flick or flutter?

without lips your whispers
are like incessant draping
fibers looser than tighter.

o' wind then,
answer me
are you again me?
or perhaps am i you?
you are like seas
bashful and incredible
you fold and buckle
seamless reams of
fingerless hands
you are barely muscles
and whole glancing
infinities.

of me, is there some
quality, that is you?
or do i remain a
simple foible?
a little meekness?
or am i(like you almost)
terrible and beautiful?

(well you don't say
a thing so i'll do this:
i'll **** my timid notion
and my diminutive weak
body will die too and oceans
of laughter will pile a crisp
tumult from my breast and
i'll yoke darkness to my shoulders
and i'll cram out into fathomless
tiny space every inch and dash of me
and i'll be beautiful like you O' WIND
i'll be beautiful like your dreadful glorious heave)
Isabella Terry Oct 2018
All falls silent and still as she perches on her throne;
the world falls asleep under the diligent gaze of her pale, white eyes.
Her crimson lips part in the gentlest of sighs.

She entertains a fleeting wish for companionship--
for someone with which to banter away the cold, quiet nights.
Her pale, snow-hued skin is freezing without the contact of another.

So many eternities have passed since she last knew conversation,
she has long since forgotten how to speak.
Collected, quiet breaths are all that fall from her lips now.

Her hands fold in her lap, her slender fingers intertwining in ennui.
Her jeweled feet take to tapping the floor listlessly;
it's hardly regal, but she struggles to care.

The endless river of her midnight hair cascades over her shoulder.
It is reminiscent of the apparent length of the night,
which begins to feel eternal: an isolated afterlife of solitary confinement.
Her name is Elara.
Your words are rich but your silence is golden
I've lost all faith in what humanity has spoken
You don't know this, but I was chosen
To speak out against society
and it's twisted mentality
Says one thing but means another
Karma is coming, but you'll never see her
She'll smother you with your past mistakes
Do whatever it takes to pay back the heartache
That you caused and all the hurt you dished out
Don't you see it now? There's no doubt,
You're in her sights now
She's aimed at your heart, tearing apart the pain
You claimed to have no control over
Karma's here, can't you see her?
She don't bluff, this ain't Tuesday night poker
Fold this hand, it's weighing heavy on your shoulders
Exposure to the light got you moving slower and slower
It's over, she's beat you down
Might as well leave the table,
Karma don't play around
N J Saroff Feb 2020
When asked who and what I am
It's hard to give a ****
I answer with
Half woman half man
But also
Neither boy but an apology
Neither girl but a memory
Maybe both, but that's called false ideology
Ask when it all began
Then stop me before I even can-

Not a daughter but somehow that bothers you
It's hard to walk in porcelain shoes
Every step can mean something someone will break
Stay in the binary that's your fate
Laugh when I say I'm in between
The words in between how the color gray can mean so much,
Because it's not an issue of black or white
How the love just might-

Falling for every human
Not a color like red or blue
Grow out of the phase maybe at the end it won't be true
Given a name to make one easily identifiable
Yet after, I found myself, not so easily identifiable
We thought I'd just settle for cis hetro-normative *** and gender
But instead I'm still caught in this hell ******
Return the parts I don't want to God, aka the original sender
Scientific labels based on unseeable factors
Play the gender roles, be a good actor

If it's a disease then please shoot me with the cure,
to fix what has always left me so unsure

My body both a home and cage
Bringing Such Joy and such rage
Curves so superb to the audience eyes
Yet come and cry when the scales numbers rise
Try to fold up small go unnoticeable, then
tear it to pieces become invisible

Wear a shirt that's too tight
Wear a pants that are just right
Wear a skirt or a dress
Become a failure or a mess
Wear a loose button up sudden success

Gender is career goals
Gender is being dull
Gender is falling apart,
picking yourself up to make the art
Gender is binary
Gender is not binary
Gender is clothes
But also
Gender is making yourself containable to those
who do not care about you
This is a improv poem
As vibrant and vivacious as a brand new totem
My luck feels like a bad game of Texas Hold 'Em
Instead of picking up the cards I fold them
The moon is covered in clouds when I walk out on the porch
Letting my presence sink like a dying torch
I'm not the one who rides on self pity
But I'm the lonely beggar drowning in the city
Barely making it
I can swear to you I'm not faking it
Everything that happens in my life
Should not contuine in my offspring
For they only know unity and peace
Until I send them off into this world
Where people are hanged and ******
For being the ones who want to live freely
As I know times are tough
I must not get my hands too rough
I must make sure the water is just right and my tone is prestine
So they can comprehend why I'm intently serene
So they can remember my words
So that they can swing the sword
With only thier words
For that they can become much more ambitious than other kids in their generation
And seize the hearts of a nation
They could become beloved sensations
That would be my greatest iteration
God bless me for that I've loved
Will bless me with the most beautiful people the Earth could possibly have standing
Taking after their mother
Who is my queen of the kingdom I so want to return to
As life is the opposing men capturing me and keeping me in their cold, lonely, prison.
This poem was done by improv. I really honed my skills at coming up with poems out of the whim. It's a beautiful skill.
I have always had a preference to the dark
that is why I study the killing art
I am that black winged nightmare
that can smash you in two

I'm I sure it will hit me ten fold
oh yes please for I care not for my soul
well if it was mine
sure I would still not care a jot

I do it for the hate of you
for I despise all
I want my hands rather ******
with my black magic studies

I hate you
I hate them
lets make it totally ******
with my black magic study

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Piglet Aug 2014
Do not label me.
I will not fold to fit in to your
pigeon hole.
I will remain unchained, 
unchanged by your desire for conformity.
All that I ever was, all that I may ever be 
doesn't rest upon your opinion of my being.
Do not label me......someday I might surprise you
RCraig David Nov 2017
Two hearts encased,
chased by a full moon overlooking the black and lucid night.
Like a bright contrasting white light spotlight on things to be.
Mine to yours and yours to me.
Two hearts into one,  
the one moon spills a mana spell akin to an infinite, everlasting spoken rune over the ages.
Our stories into one,
Our hearts bond,
timeless...unsung,
It’s skips progressive stages,
beyond words on pages,
in this quiet moment past the reach of the Sun.
The fullest moon,
the furthest reach,
high in the sky contrasting the black lack of light,
night’s version of high noon.

Emboldened to fold into and hold onto you so often,
bending,
blending,
transcending so tight even our souls share light.
Eyes shut, sealed from light,
we feel and grasp and clasp and clinch at every body-inch,
sparking darkest days into brightest nights...
then, all over again, I see you, I pull you close,
and so it begins again this morning or this day or this night.

PART 2
The ****, salty taste of your waist encases a place in my brain forever.
You depart...we’re apart...
Miss you fiercely,
love you deeply,
to hold you near,
feel my fears leave me,
if only I could just see thee.
My next morning starts anew with more thoughts of you and how completely I see thee as part of the whole sum of who I suddenly aspire to be.

With every rolling tumble and sweet embrace,
with every chanced glance to give chase,
with every coy kissing peck on my neck,
with every wept tear of joy
with every breath or soulful laugh you employ,
I beseech you,
Mate to my soul,
woman to this man,
girl to this boy,
my heart,
my love,
my trust are yours to have,
to hold,
to embold...
laid bare to infirm or destroy.

By R. Craig David-Copyrighted 2017
Ryan Bowdish Mar 2013
I'd love to take you apart, pull your string
Watch the ivy grow at the seam, watch the bubbles
While I hold you down underneath
Let warm water run over our cold bodies.

Run along, now, you're no longer needed here (Maybe someday soon)
Splitting the wishbone, guess who got the bigger half? (There's no room)
How does the solder taste when you go down? (Always new)
I always knew you would need to come back again (I always knew)

See how the roses fold into the sheets
Just like a ******* hole in your sleep
You got nothing to worry about
When everything is simplified, no one will walk out.

You got no right!
You got no right to
You got no right!
You got no right to me.
You got no right! (Infinite)
You got no right to (Misery)
You got no right! (Imminent)
You got no right to me! (Ecstasy)
You got no right! (Infinite) [Calculations melting quickly, time dilation, seconds stretching]
You got no right to (Misery) [Minds colliding, bodies soaking, atoms bonding, seconds stretching]
You got no right! (Imminent) [Always what we never wanted, never who we always needed]
You got no right to me! (Ecstasy) [Saturation of our nature, stars our shining in our language]

I'm done.
I'm going back home now.
Leave me alone.
I'm going back home now.
I'm going back home.
Elizz Aug 2018
I spun a fine metal string
I took four corners of my heart
Smoothing them out
With rarely loving hands
I attached the key to my newly minted kite
Out into the storm I swirled
Climbing the glass hill
So many fine lined fractures
I could find at least several sonnets
If only I stooped low enough to read
But alas I've crested my checkpoint
Outstretched you are
Thunderheads dominating the sky
Flashes of light
But my heart still flies on
Unhindered
Paper thin
Right where it's supposed to be
The key flailing gaily
Pure darkness
But sometimes darkness
It can be the brightest thing ever
And it's finally struck its mark
The X has been found
The electricity outlining your delicate veins
I never realized how pretty you were
Smoke curls out of my mouth
Stunned and dazed
Tendrils flowing freely
Dregs of adrenaline
Flooding out of my system  
I never knew that I could feel this way
I never knew
As I lay upon the ground
Watching my hearted kite drop gracefully
Shriveled and burned to a crisp
How important you were to me
Until we were struck
So in our dying moments as you finally reach me
I fold my arms carefully across you
Pressing you into my chest as if I could undo what I did
And we watch the storm rage
As everything slowly melts
Into a velvety soft black
And as one


We stop beating
I kinda romanticized being killed by lightning
G Fairbairn Jul 2010
doubt bow
seduces
now
soul enchanted
weave  thou
dream  made
fold
fade
whisper evokes
heart bough
Inside lives
ancient stream
rushes quietly
fills the bridge
often ignored
often abhorred
fragile bloom
sterile pond.
Feel notion
dream catcher
motion
threshold pass
today tomorrow
illusion !

— The End —