"frees" poems
The deer are buried up to their necks
in the sandy soil
the struggle for purchase
frees them
into a pack of black wolves jaws
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
Spirit Dolphin
To be in tune in natures light
To be in touch and resonate
Intelligent communicate
Heartbeats of love and breath of life
Superior to human sight
Your sound waves and reverberates
To be in tune in natures light
To be in touch and resonate
You touch the stars and elevate
Our spirits to become alight
Giving us freedom to ignite
Centers begin to emanate
To be in tune in natures light
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon
You teach us how to breathe with care
Oceanic friend, solar flare
Communicating our monsoon
Teaching in us how to commune
Opening our minds to beware
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon
You teach us how to breathe with care
Your innocence rests like lagoon
On the surface emotions bare
Vulnerability is there
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon
A good omen to protect us
Saving the lives of so many
Selfless creature giving plenty
From outer space some do discuss
To touch you frees us from raucous
To ride with you fulfills empty
A good omen to protect us
Saving the lives of so many
With you we find our playfulness
Self-confidence more than any
Never to lose our assembly
Connect us all with inner trust
A good omen to protect us
Helping others finding our truth
To be One Universally
What might seem strange is certainly
A reflection upon our youth
Make bright our eyes with wisdom's root
Free from shame inadvertently
Helping others finding our truth
To be One Universally
Though we may taste forbidden fruit
What we will learn so artfully
Forgives our aches so perfectly
Flipping through curious pursuit
Helping others finding our truth
© tHE tERRY tREE
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
Happiness is an internal sensation.
Not caused by an external temptation.
Happiness is a psychological reaction,
That follows complete satisfaction.
Happiness comes when escaping worldly pleasures,
And when anticipating heavenly treasures.
Happiness can't be bought with money or wealth.
It is achieved when one frees himself.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
As we open up our doors,
Light shines across the floors,
Opening our minds,
Not turning our hinds,
No need to pick a side,
We don't have to hide,
Closeted minds,
Hates what fear finds,
Listen to us,
Without any fuss,
You will learn,
For what you yearn,
Is not behind a closed door,
See with your own eyes,
She does not sigh,
Nor run and hide,
She doesn't pick a side,
We yearn to be free,
Not held in some prison,
To be tortured,
To die unknown,
So be free,
In this Sea,
Free of Greed,
To plant the seed,
Grow the trees,
That frees,
Our souls that hide,
From you, inside.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
Dear life, what is it that makes you take on a journey which always leads towards an unavoidable, devestating yet resenting death ?
Since I cannot understand it fully I wander upon this world without finding any clear answers to satisfy the curiousity my heart bears.
In the realm of dreams I find rest, as my mind engages into this illusion and frees me from this reality for as long as my body pleases.
Awakened by loitering darkness, these questions are repeating themselves on a path of recurrance, without decreasing in strengh.
As my breath dies while feeling the agony, flames of hatred are seeping through my fragile, delicate existence, giving energy.
Rumbling, boiling in sadness I tell myself that anyone's forgiveness is not neccesary, losing control over this riot of pure fury without heart.
Looking back a thousand times, it remains as my very best choice.
Letting these emotions race, rage and rampage uncontrollably
Whilst losing ones self within a lunatic laughter to release pressure
I cannot stop these tears, pitying the past long gone rolling down my cheeks, moistening the very soil I am growing on, as a pure lily
Until the moment comes in which my body exhausts itself and allows me to enter the world of dreams, where despair fades into happiness.
Until the sun rises once again
~ Umi
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 6:23 PM UTC
It's deep night, damp and sticky with the
residue of southern heat which refuses to
totally dissipate this far into the night.
The night is thick with the voices of insects
and sleepers sweating atop their sheets,
committing sins in their vivid imaginings.
Dreaming, I'm standing by the wide river
wishing I could fly with the breeze through
the trees, the soft, warm, cradling breeze
that comes up from the Mississippi River.
It stirs the boughs of cypress and oak trees
and arouses a wind chime's music somewhere
down the dimly-lit street, while scattering
a newspaper like huge leaves; a wind that smells
of magnolia and dogwood blossoms and
river mud. A full moon casts long shadows
which melt into even darker, yet benign
shadows. The night has compiled its secrets,
mysteries, transgressions; surely that is the
charm of night - it frees the mind to settle not
on what seemed important during the day,
but on the longings kept locked away, hidden
from the disclosing light, struggling to break
free and take wing with this night wind.
--
Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 1:34 PM UTC
He once asked me, “Do I dare?” To which I reply
with quivering hands and wide open eyes
“How do we disturb what it is that we are?
After all, you yourself are not unlike a star.”
You see, all our lives we spend burning away
We give others light till the end of our days
And everyone else is of star-matter too
so can you not say that the universe is you?
So yes, we must dare to disturb our own minds.
We never know what possibility finds.
It may be art or a universe new.
The outcome depends on what you will do.
So dare if you wish and dare if you will
and dare the world until you have had your fill
because one of these days all our daring must cease
as we turn back to star-matter, reaching our peace.
And we flow on and on to the end of all time
and the universe finally frees our minds
and the mermaids are singing a song just for you
and there’s marmalade, teacups, and fresh peaches too
and the crest of your life has just truly begun
because if you’re a star, then you can be the sun
and the light you give off is a beautiful flare.
It inspires a young boy to ask, “Do I dare?”
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
True forgiveness is not just forgive and forget
True forgiveness is to forgive and remember
It is an act of will to let go of the hurt, whether or not the other person deserves forgiveness
The Forgiveness frees us from hate or other negative emotions that can hold us bound
Forgiveness can be like a bridge sometimes opening up an opportunity
for some relationships to be repaired, even if they are not I choose forgiveness
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 4:57 PM UTC
bask in a love that frees
a love like that first ray of sunlight,
after a cold and dark winter.
a love that is freely given and helps us grow,
and not the codependant and addictive love
that binds and controls.
I laugh and dance in the sunlight of God's love
that makes me whole and safe.
no thing or person can ever take away this freedom,
unless I give it away.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
~**My portrait was painted by Jackson *******
<|>
“***there are no lines or lies in my writings
there are no definitions and perception is only your truth.
Therefore,
my poems are splats and drips, you make them into paintings that hang in your own private museum,
but signed by me as first passenger***”
<|>
when did I write these words?
can’t recall, though undated,
they seem all too familiar, and thinking that if I didn’t,
I should have…
for the title of this ‘poem painting’ has lain in quietude,
a resident in my file of
“someday writs, awaiting,”
when the itch demands you will
essay
**the admixture of words and swords
that will cut a newborn corded reciprocity of thee and me,
an unbound bind that ties and frees us
from and by our shared senses…**
today, an inadvertent blinding sunlight stumble is demanding a
fulsome scratching
<|>
the portrait of each is the irrational intersectional of splats and drips,
each viewer, reader, filters the image through a common
uncommonality,
which is as it should be,
**for if we are each created in His image,
how glorious is the diversity of our deities,
each of us a tiny drop of paint on a tableau
of a small planet, insignificant but
uniquely beautiful intelligent species of godlike creatures,**
human
<|>
the précis of this conundrum conversation bewilders,
a single word drops,
of plaint, paint, blood,
a seconds blush blurred
that is the building blocks of imagery
I state is mine,
but now realizations swiftly fertilize,
**the portrait is not of me,
but of me blended into thee,
and this poem,
is our composition**
that hangs in each of our primary
museum,
newly re-titled,
A Passenger, Realized
Sep 14, 2023
Sep 14, 2023 at 7:10 AM UTC
I love the winter
-- oh how I love the cold.
The numbing temperature is morphine to my soul.
Rushing through my veins, turning my blood to ice
A natural drug; my only sense of sanity, my demonic vice
And it frees me.
I love the winter,
and all its melodramatic glamour.
There's a sheen of romantic sadness when church bells clammor
I love the winter;
-- it's when I came out of the Cave.
Saw the Truth for what it was,
and wrote it down page by page.
Leave me with the snow;
I want to hear the church bells
ring.
-lf-
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
It is impossible to compass life without suffering harm
from loved ones.
Wrongs that take the ground from under the feet.
Wrongs that hurt heart through and through.
Wrongs that make us distraught victim.
Does forgiveness immunize us for further injustices?
Does forgiveness soothe suffering?
One thing is certain, everyone has been hurt in life
and everyone once inflicted wound:
betrayal,
selfishness,
criticism,
unjust judgment,
bad word,
emotional abuse,
unfair reward.
Love that bears all things, and endures all things
shows the principle of overcoming evil with good.
We live in times where love is seen as pleasure.
When there is lack of fulfillment the connection ends
instead of support in moments of weakness,
jointly bearing burden,
willingness to give up the ego.
In relations underflow of virtues is worthless.
Every love at some point hurts.
The more we love the greater the suffering.
Remember, that you are also sometimes hard to bear.
One of the most important lessons in life
is non acceptance of evil.
Always we are entitled to protest and defense.
There is a difference between sagacious enduring of injustice
and permition for hard time and humilitation.
Defense against evil should be free from desire
for revenge, hate, wrath, punishment and anger.
Leave vengeance to God.
The point is love. It is she who shows the right path.
The cure for the human pain of injustice is forgiveness.
Man needs time to forgive,
therefore necessary at times of touch of hurt is compassion.
Does forgiveness mean to forget?
No, forgiveness is an act of will not of forgetting.
Great injury can not be erased from memory.
Forgiveness is duty that gives hope and strength for the future.
Forgiveness is the transition from helplessness to peace of heart.
Forgiveness is overcoming anger and grief towards acceptance of reality.
Is forgiveness reconciliation?
No, although it is a quantum leap in the direction of reconciliation.
There is no way to force act of reconciliation.
Forgiveness is one thing,
and to be mature for reconciliation is another thing.
Most important in forgiveness is not to rely
on gesture of compensation.
Some believe that only weak people forgive.
Forgiveness requires tremendous effort and courage.
It is easier to sail away in anger
than creative dialogue which leads to remedy of the situation.
Without forgiveness you can not win
with guilt, abyss of past and human frailties.
Forgiveness is above all priceless gift for yourself.
Forgiveness frees you from inner poisons,
and also opens up new lands.
If we are able to injure,
we are also able to say the sorry and make amends.
Act of contrition allows for a true change of heart.
Act of forgiveness is the bud of heart at peace.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 9:00 AM UTC
There's an architect designing the world from the skyline downwards, as he believes himself to be a God
The paraffin lamps on Victorian cobbled corners are as dry as the seraph in dust bowls over some arid sea
A portrait exists, of a town covered in mist and the orange cliffs are a thousand bloodied wrists
Somewhere music plays to ghosts, obtuse reverberations of some cave on a mountain... or something
and what a useless skill it is to be a poet, flouting fanciful words as if a single soul cared or could possibly muster anything more than unadulterated apathy
What a lonely life it is, to spend entire days watching *********** and reveling in dissociative stoicism
Watching cam girls for hours on end, swept up in conversation yet never taking part, only watching
They seem as lonely as anybody, holed up in crimson rooms as anonymous DJs play through laptop speakers
Fielding obscene questions with a smile and renting their body in timetables to the highest tipper
and some days the depression becomes so heavy that ************ seems impossible, though it's possible to blame such scarcity on the anti-anxiety meds that have ruined so many-a youthful folly
Is there a more flattering notion, than a story teller being commended for honesty when every word is a lie
Fictional accounts of melancholic lives told in a pulchritudinous verse or a prose of the most regal purples
Using nothing more than psycho-stimulants and a smeared bedroom window for inspiration
There's a writer sat at a desk, typing ridiculous lines of text, as he knows himself to be human
and in that humanity he strives to create a realists interpretation of existence through scattered memories
and derivative styles of his favourite authors whilst using educational texts as footnotes in imaginary diaries
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
The tears of love in my heart can neither human nor spirit understand,
for my heart is bruised in grief.
The pains of love in my soul can neither words nor speech utter,
for my soul is soiled in sorrow.
The wounds of love in my spirit can neither care nor treatment heal,
for my spirit is sealed in distress.
My heart desires you though you have refused to change your mind.
My soul seeks your love though you have refused to come back.
My spirit cherishes your love though we can't be together forever as lovers.
But,
lf we are not meant to be together as lovers,
why then does this feeling hurt so much?
If we are not designed for each other as one,
why then does my heart cleave to yours?
If we are not destined for one another as soul mates,
why then does my spirit cherish your love?
It hurts to know that we can't always be with the ones we love.
Seeing that we can't be together forever as lovers,
for my inability to change the destined destiny;
and my inability to change your mind.
My prayer is that you find the love of your heart.
My desire is that you find the desires of your heart.
My passion is that you find the love of your life,
someone who will love and cherish you.
The tears of love in my heart, you alone can clean.
The pains of love in my soul, you alone can stop.
The wounds of love in my spirit,
you alone can heal.
With tears in my heart will your love be seeked,
though am bruised in grief.
With pains in my soul will your love be cherished,
though am soiled in sorrow.
With wounds in my spirit will your love be desired;
though am sealed in distress.
My life was lived in loving you, now you leave to love another.
My heart beats for yours, knowing you alone can clean my tears.
My spirit seeks your heart, knowing we shared so much.
Oh! The days of sorrow and loneliness has caught up with me.
A broken and wounded heart you leave me with.
A new path you are treading without me.
A new life you are moving to, without me.
Nevertheless,
my heart frees you without any guilt.
But remember it hurts to love and not be loved in return.
We promised each other to live together forever as lovers,
you assured me of dying by my side.
All these promises are now forgotten.
Goodbye my friend.
As you leave me to groan in tears of loneliness for love,
remember my tears are ceaselessly running;
wailing and waiting for who will clean my tears of love.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
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Mar 12, 2010
Mar 12, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
Eyes as green as pixie dust
His stare makes my heart soar
it frees my soul.
Take me forever to Never Never Land.
I am your Wendy Darling.
You my Peter Pan.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 7:39 PM UTC
the spanish seaside town
as the sun sets
is golden to the eye
and warm to the soul
full of life
and beauty
did not seek this place
but fate sought it for me
she came out of the west
and i was captured the moment i beheld her
spanish goddess
her smile captivates
exquisite true beauty
in the glow of her laugh
with that one small gesture
she is pure sunshine
she is tender and true love
she heals the heart
and frees the soul
spanish goddess
her dark eyes a cage
of smouldering passions
and gentle fires of deep and true loves
spanish goddess
her smile
haunts me
such beauty cannot be contained in my heart
such absolute and mesmerizing perfection
cannot be beheld in such a small place
as one mans simple soul
spanish goddess
i am riven by you and nursed back by you
i am torn apart and mended by you
i am created and destroyed
all in the single moment i am graced by the sweet embrace
of even a mere glance with the touch of a smile of yours
spanish goddess
please please do not let me awaken
from this beautiful dream
let me be forever here
in spanish seaside town
at the setting of the sun
in the perfection of your attentions and kindness
with your beauty and warmth
that is heaven
in every sense of the word
spanish goddess
you have forever changed me
from a lost soul
without hope or direction
to the captain of my future
forever to seek safe harbor
in a spanish seaside town
forever more to thirst for your smile
for your laugh
for you
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
your scent
frees my skin
from the sweat
of a never ending
chase
and the rancid
odor of when
it all catches
up to me
Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 12:47 AM UTC
Apathetically
Beautifully Callous
Distant
Elegy Frees Gradual Hesitation
Insecurity Justifiably Killing Love
Momentum Nullifying Optimistic Peacefulness
Quietly Relinquishing Shared Togetherness
Unhappiness Virtually Wills
Xeroxing Yourself Zymotically
© Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 4:01 AM UTC
I asked him why he did not travel on the roads anymore
He blamed fear and age
In my mind, I told him:
"I like the bittersweet taste of danger touching my lips"
But it was much more than that
Because you, constant and inconstant part of my body, which brings me contemplation and solitude
Let me bathe in the night and search the stars in the sky
As the midnight wind hits my body
I don't need anything else, just movement and freedom
I'm a hurricane, I'm everything and I'm nothing
My mind frees and turns itself off, to rekindle more attentively, more alive
And then take me to unfamiliar and distant places
And I will feel the breeze of the ocean,
And I will see the distance lights of the city
They shine just for me tonight
Competing with the starry sky and the moon reflecting on the sea
Just like lullabies on my mind
I don't need anyone, I am everything and I am nothing
I am a silent hurricane
Devoid of fear in its dark and tropical flavor
Climbing wet roads filled with nature
And just then
I will finally feel the bittersweet taste
Of freedom touching my lips
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 1:20 PM UTC
Meditation frees your mind
with practice
you will find
enlightenment is a glow
through the dusk
and the dawn
the soul of life
shines on
those who strive
for gentle worth
and merit won
will save the earth
by the good
they have done
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 12:56 AM UTC
I am two fools, I know—
For loving, and for saying so
In whining poetry;
But where’s that wiseman that would not be I,
If she would not deny?
Then, as th’ earths inward narrow crooked lanes
Do purge sea waters fretful salt away,
I thought, if I could draw my pains
Through rhymes vexation, I should them allay.
Grief brought to numbers cannot be so fierce,
For he tames it that fetters it in verse.
But when I have done so,
Some man, his art and voice to show,
Doth set and sing my pain,
And, by delighting many, frees again
Grief, which verse did restrain.
To Love and Grief tribute of verse belongs,
But not of such as pleases when ’tis read;
Both are increased by such songs,
For both their triumphs so are published;
And I, which was two fooles, do so grow three;
Who are a little wise, the best fools be.
2.9k
...
silence
-like a rainstorm-
frees my arid soul
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 9:07 PM UTC
I want to be a scientist.
"I am a scientist."
They laugh.
You're just a child!
They tease.
You're not a scientist!
I'm still a scientist.
Like math,
Science is wild.
It frees
So I'm a scientist.
Science is not cold.
Science holds wonders untold.
Scientists are not adults--
Are not doctors,
Professionals.
Scientists are thinkers--
Creators,
Spectacles.
So I am a scientist,
No matter what they say.
I'm a scientist,
And I know the way.
Everyone here is a scientist.
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:46 AM UTC