"fulfilled" poems
I too...
wake up sometimes
longing to touch you
to taste
tease
tempt
and excite you
I want to wake you up
with soft lingering kisses
and tender rhythmic touches
I want to slide my tongue
deeply within you
playfully persistent
until your back arches
and your breath catches
I want your spirit to soar...
before your eyes
are even open
I want to give to you
the passion
joy and love
that you have hungered for...
I want you
to begin each day...
fulfilled.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
Peace flows into me
As the tide to the pool by the shore;
It is mine forevermore,
It ebbs not back like the sea.
I am the pool of blue
That worships the vivid sky;
My hopes were heaven-high,
They are all fulfilled in you.
I am the pool of gold
When sunset burns and dies, —
You are my deepening skies,
Give me your stars to hold.
39.7k
From one thousand mountains the hawks flights are gone
Soaring freely & thinking clearly through the clouds in the sky
Not looking back persevering to fulfill the dreams
The dreams aren't solely an illusion in the mind
But a preview of future times
For the reality in the hawks mind is dreams of happiness
Clashing between difficulty & a paradox of what is seen & what is not seen
What is believed has 20/20 vision
A clear sight with no eyeballs
But a driven mind with great visual
Anticipating the future of success
Feeling blessed and alleviating stress
Persevering and passing all the tests
What lies is the wind which is the past
Securing things of desire at last
Achievement is a good friend
Resulting in a fulfilled end. . .
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
I see a mirror
Of Love,
A promise fulfilled
By the power above
I see a mature woman
Who’s endless in worth
Who has dreams and goals
And a great purpose on Earth
I see a soul
That’ll hold me close
Keep me happy
And love me the most
When I look into your eyes
My search is complete
No more looking for love
No more girls to meet
When I look into your heart
I feel God’s grace and blessing
My prayers were answered
And there’s no more guessing
When I see you smile
Not a worry do I feel
Stress falls to the ground
And my anger tends to peel
When I see you happy
It feeds my spirit
I’d even ask if you liked my body
Just to even hear it
When I see your life
I see our great futures combined
Nothing but success, love, and peace
Fill my dreams and mind
When I see into your mind
I see your want to be great
And you’re off to a good start
Many girls are gonna hate
When I see into your love
It makes me write it down
Sing it to a crowd
Or preach it on a mound
And when you read this
Many emotions do you feel
But what I love the most
No worry about them being concealed
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
*you to go to him,
you're throwing yourself in danger,
to dream of such dangerous dream,
stop now,
let your heart rest,
my heart shreads to pieces watching you grieve.*
*you smile to me,
as if nothing had happened,
in reality,
you tremble, wither, scowl away,
come to me,
rest yourself in the arms of mine,
by dawn,
fly to the moon.*
*a place where we can't be together,
a place where I can't go,
that's okay,
as long as you are safe.*
*my sad story,
can never be fulfilled in bliss,
but instead,
just this once,
stop.*
Your wings will get wet
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC
A dream dreamt for a millennium
Everyday oozing away as I badgered and prayed
For one splendiferous day
To feel limitless and ecstatic in my cranium.
Suddenly, my dream came to fruition
All this time was worth the anticipation
My brittle bones became strong through elation
My every cell frenetic with love's constitution.
The dream fulfilled
Vanished without warning
Soaking my heart in distrust and mourning
Creating in the center of my mind an emptiness so still.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 10:49 PM UTC
Ice cream is sweet and quite the treat
A savory delight I crave at night
At almost any time and any where,
it is worth to desert for this dessert.
Some keep it vanilla while others want a twist.
Sometimes it's good to mix or other wise switch.
Maybe you're ***** can't resist other flavored dishes?
What if you were denied it or could no longer find it?
*** how I'd crave its taste, but at least I'd lose weight.
Other substitutes are lame and aren't quite the same.
Regardless, I would survive and still be able to thrive.
Why is *** so different?
It's a biological need you'll probably say,
so you, can't compare the two.
I disagree completely.
Though we'd all prefer not to be lacking,
it's not as if we'd die for wanting.
Additionally, people have lived ascetically
and have been perfectly fulfilled and happy.
Those kinds of people aren't born that way,
but rather we are conditioned to be *** crazy.
We are made to feel as if
we are measured by who or how many we've been with.
It is validation we truly desire
and to know we always matter.
And though *** is one of life's greatest gifts,
it does not give your life an overarching bliss.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
In age of old, in time that pass like tides,
When Prometheus lived and Lo! He strived,
As thirsting for Heaven, he climbed its hills, and trees,
Clenching at the Sun, its spark he seize.
The leaves, they warmed, turn bright and evergreen,
As Prometheus, he to fierce fire wean,
Swell lips sip lightning, of the nascent noon,
And divine heat from his hand duly shone,
To Roses, who sing, uprise and sweet rebel,
In bloom to conquer, vanquish concrete hell.
A wish for fire, fulfilled, angered Zeus,
He thought the fire be given, not to choose,
That excellence with fire, laurel his,
"A crime against the Gods Prometheus did."
For glory of the light from Heaven sent,
The hour of his favour now gone, spent.
Smite down the hero, tear ambition down,
Old Zeus, but young ambition wears your crown,
For daring, striving why not badge of God?
The Promethean vision all time hath applaud,
It art of upper world, belong in sky,
Praise Prometheus as fire goes roving by.
Mind gilded by the golden, whirling thread,
You seize from Heaven, through the Earth now spread,
Bringing hope to hearts, life to the dead,
As for forgiveness of the Gods you plead,
For an uncriminal act and sublime deed,
The arrogance of Zeus? Need not to feed.
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 3:14 AM UTC
Fulfill the dreams of yearning heart
Under the arch lights, bathed in glory
Reminiscing the path that you took
Forlorn and strewn with hurdles
At times an effortless glide ahead
Blended with mixed fortunes
Inching towards the destination
Trial of patience as going gets tough
Dreams will be fulfilled, after tribulations
Don’t stop dreaming just yet
Ignore the furtive glances of cynics
Dreams are to be nurtured and fulfilled
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
I wonder what secret
The trees whisper to the breeze?
Do the birds hear that secret
And announce it in their song?
Does the wind hold it
And drop it in the seas?
Does the sea speak it out
And share it with the stars?
Do the heavens then resound
With the secret of the trees?
And the clouds,
Oh yes! Those clouds
Blue, black and grey
Is that why come rushing?
Across the seas to caress
With gentle rain the trees
And whisper,
"Heaven knows your heart,
There are no secrets from God."
The trees smile and sway
Fulfilled and complete in love.
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 11:43 PM UTC
I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because the last time I opened up to someone artistically they told me it was pretty dark and I should keep it to myself.
I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because I was raised in a culture that was anti love and pro meaningless *** I saw endless commercials about movies that glamorize a lifestyle in which your body is fulfilled but your heart is ignored and at that impressionable age I learned my heart came second but my allure came first and the less I cared that happier I would be and I carried that belief around with me the way I used to carry around a Bible as a child.
I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because of the time that I opened my father’s phone to reveal a family secret I would hold to this day against my own moral instincts unraveling miles of insecurities wondering if I’m not a good enough daughter or if he stopped loving my mother or if true love was never real and although I had been taught marriage was my purpose, it was what I believed would make me happy, maybe rings aren’t enough to stay in love and maybe people’s feelings change and maybe no one actually has a “one true love” and that this purpose I had been taught was really an endless wild goose chase that only lead to broken families and lost souls.
I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because sometimes I still wonder why I fell into an abyss of toxicity at such a young age. And when I say wonder I don’t mean a trivial ponder, I mean I contemplate every possible reason why the person who I once believed held the universe in her eyes would lie to my face, why she never kissed me in public and our love was always a secret, why she valued girls with blue hair but my blonde hair was not good enough, why I had to hide bruises from my family when I was still in high school or more importantly, why at the time, I thought I deserved them. These thoughts, this lingering paranoia that I am undeserving of healthy love, they muddy my interpretations of real life and distort reality and effect my relationships. My doctor would call these intrusive thoughts, my best friend would tell me they’re symptoms of PTSD, but I have come to realize that I’ve been burned and I am damaged and I hope to god I can recover.
But you,
Oh god, you
You can write this poem. You can be my safety net while I’m free falling in love. You can be the one to listen to my mental tilt-a-whirls, you can be the one that introduces my body and my heart, you can be the one that calms the storms in my mind when I’m questioning the love I’m deserving of. You are the one who makes sure I fall asleep in my bed after drunk nights, you are the one that still sees my value after acknowledging my flaws.
You can write this poem.
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 12:33 AM UTC
In tunnelled darks, pastes of reminisce
Outward disjoint points to irrelevance
Spooned and coned in cold mountaintops
The darks of sorrows and trails of struggles
Persistence patterns of self satire in gloom
Sunken in identity crisis of broad oceans
Stormy seas spotlighted by beatific stars
Trajectory of spilled ice in recurrent motions
A mere past cocooned by fears and tears
Clouded in thoughts that cruise and decline
Greyed white imprinted by sudden sadness
Madness echoes on arched ancient bricks
Checkered maniacs of fulfilled passions
Filed and iced in cased prolific memories
Cascades of sunshine tickles to warmth
Orchards of glow that bloom and grow
Picked, ticked and unpacked from boxes
Attacked, nurtured and stored in bliss
Eventful lessons unfolds in untold augury
A mission as the known permeates and fade
Windowed eyes all line up in parade
Mirrored lights digest the haunted haste
A stranger to self, an ally to another
A dance of bright entwine a twist of blur
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC
"This heat and this blaze harm and burn me, please turn me away"
She said crying out into the endless hell, her stay
And she continued crying out,
Loud even whilst she was about, to burn to dust
Her boiling blood, gave the surroundings a smell likewise rust
Until the Lord finally answered her call
>"If you are granted this wish, will you ask for anything else at all?"<
In her pain, in her agony she could only respond
"No, I swear by your greatness, I will not go beyond (this wish) "
Her wish was fulfilled, she was out of hell,
But, this made her ask for more, would it suit her well ?
" I beg you oh Lord, bring me forward, just to the gate of paradise,
I have no other wish, I promise...please..it would be nice"
So her Lord would say: >"Didn't you promise not to ask for anything more ?
Woe to you, who swore (by my name)!
Oh you who was created from the soil...how treacious you are"
She kept begging and pondered so far
" I swear by your greatness I will not ask anymore,
Am I for you, but a useless ***** ? "
And she will continue to promise and pledge,
Until she was finally brought to the edge
The gate to paradise
When she looks inside, she would see its vigor charm and pleasure
But remembering her promise she would remain silent, in front of this treasure
Then, eventually, unable to bear this...she would scream
" Oh Lord, let me enter paradise, it is my greatest dream "
And again her Lord would add:
>" Did you not make all these oaths and pledges not to ask for anything else ? Is it not enough that I brought you out of hell ? You are still sad !
Oh, woe you, how treacious you are "
Tugged in her misery she couldn't help but feel down
Though she didn't bother to shed more tears, just frown
" Please don't make me the most miserable of your creation,
Please forgive me and make heaven my home, my final station"
And she would continue to ponder until her Lord would laugh
As he did, she was able to enter heaven, its most divine half
When she was in, it was said >" Make a wish, it will come true"<
Happiness overcame her, growing faster than bamboo!
She kept on wishing, until there was nothing left to ask for
And thus, the former human, lived in bliss
From now on and forever, never bored by this
~ Umi
Dec 25, 2017
Dec 25, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
Sometimes I wish that I wasn’t born with a tall, magnificent, towering horn
Because I might be killed soon while my horn were torn.
Every 8 hours, one of us is dreadfully killed,
Only to make their dream fulfilled?
If I were to say we’re nothing special, we’re just like you it’s just not fair.
And if I say our horns are made like your nails and your hair.
Would people still **** us or let us be free?
Maybe they’ll laugh, as you can see.
We’re neither for sale, nor for medicine or as your house souvenirs.
I don’t want to be a display and stay there for years!
How can it be a work that they’re so proud of?
Then does that mean we’re just “stuff”?
There are not many of us now, only 5 species left and yes it is true.
White, Black, Greater one- horned, Sumatran and Javan too.
However, I’m afraid that one day we’ll be gone,
And by then whom will they look upon?
I know by far that many of you had protected us, and gave us support.
Though is it not enough to reach the hunter’s heart?
Don’t you think that we’ve had enough?
We have to stay strong and tough.
This is why we need your help, to spread the word and show us you care.
Help us make a difference, since we are considered as rare.
I want us to all get together and to be a part of this.
For a happy future that you’ll never miss!
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 8:39 AM UTC
He's her sickness, with him she's unwell
She's his drug, without her life's hell
He's her nightmare, with him she's frightened
She's his sweetest dreams, without her he's burdened
He's her despair, with him she's grieved
She's his hope, with her he's fulfilled
He's her failure
She's his success
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
I am at this place where sound is energy-
where color has mass and taste.
Every moment is a glorious adventure,
balanced on the fine line between joy and madness.
I may be insane.
I might have finally lost my mind.
I don't care.
I am bliss and freedom in this moment,
encapsulated by the rushing wind
of my own thoughts as they sail by
visceral, anthropomorphic.
As layer by layer all I know is taken
not by force, but gently,
I discover truth hidden beneath.
Obfuscated no longer,
I am god of this moment-
I am the All-Seeing Eye.
-for just a moment.
A moment that seems to stretch across
the history of the universe,
as I am blinded by the birth of a billion suns...
As waves of cigarette smoke waft
lazily into the form of tigers,
the fever pitch waves adieu-
like the distant memory of an ******
it leaves me tired but fulfilled.
Time to reflect.
Time to absorb what I've found.
There are no adventures greater than those in your own mind.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
Cornwall, Cornwall every day
Bright sun and fresh feelings
Simple pleasures by just being here
Forward thinking into old age dotage
All our lives waiting, hoping, wishing
Never believing it could be
Out of mind with secret longing
Filling up with atmospheric air
Sensing that emotional rush
Deep breaths swallowing cliffs and sea
Wild flowers and cows here
Hedgerows and windblown trees
Lopsided branches pointing inland
As cool salt air combs their twigs
The winding tracks disappear
Love is here all around, so strong
Heart wrenching and stomach churning
Soul and body filling up with Cornish…
Cornish, as long as it’s Cornish
It’s good!
Give us a chance to stay
Give us the chance to live
Ever on the hard granite pathways
Sounds of mewing gulls and thunder of surf
Beating on the windswept rocks and beaches
Cornish light familiar and so bright
Invading our eyes and warming our hearts
Gently massaging our faces with soothing fingers
Lifting our spirits as breaking through the clouds
It charges us with love
Fulfilled and whole
Our lives and minds gratefully feasting
The armfuls of wonder as we carry our hearts
Together, through eternity, watching
As the sun sets in a blaze of Cornish light
Feb 3, 2010
Feb 3, 2010 at 12:28 PM UTC
Myself caught in the heatwave sunlight, brown eyes
furrowed in the sun, scarf loose on my neck/
the transcendental Denpasar morning-birds
are playing their melodies in my head still,
three years post-Indonesia.
All of my soul to India now,
sky the pink of painted elephants
on Jaipur dawning,
my afterlife was somewhere here
perhaps two generations ago, chances are.
Vijay Raghav Rao and Alla Rakha
playing the Tabla/via earphones/treading the
Funary Box City (Kashi) future Spring
hands held together keeping calm pace.
Looking about, my twenty-two year old face
catches humid wind
S
I
L
V
E
R
S
H
O
P
tattered bike leaning on the gated guest house entrance
PERENNIAL AZURE SHIVA SITS CROSS LEGGED/
COBRA NECKLACE IMITIATONS ON THE GODDESS THROAT/
MEDITATING SHIVA/
dulled from years and corrosion.
Brahmin center of the market street
flapping it's tail,
sweat beads from my forehead bleeding
to oily pavement.
At last the months have come for the river Ganges,
April penumbra/savage thunderclap
while school children uplifting the heart
AND MIND
are ROARING in their laughter
the CONTINENTAL DISCORD OF JOY
sleeping with their eyes open
while others are too tired for the Earth.
Sidney Bechet floating swan songs during
the black hour cremations/
“Bechet Creole Blues”
CATERWAUL IN THAT VOID
THE METAMORPHOSIS OF DEATH/
LUNACY OF LIFE
(I've arrived at the simultaneous crossroads
of both)
searing flesh in open air pyramids/
Manikarnika Ghat,
Asia F
L
O
W
S
through dreams
like inevitable prophecy
and as ash blends with stars
the CITY seems fulfilled
and mystifying
in it's
(((((RESPLENDENCE)))))
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
*Just when the sun illuminates,
Upon the sapphire skies,
And the clouds appear,
To slowly dance, side by side.
Shimmery, cobalt blue waters,
Perform a low sequence, on the seaside,
Leaving a bubbling blanket,
On the surface of smooth sands,
Washing away, pretentiously.
Bringing a gentle tropical zephyr,
With rhythmic sounds,
Echoing, through evergreen pinnate leaves,
Swinging gently, into the calming air.
Inspiring a magical after glow,
With dreams fulfilled,
In ecstasy,
Leaving a warm and peaceful impression.*
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
I wrote about you, day and night
You are my moon, you are my sun
I wished for the day when we would finally unite
Like the stars in the galaxy, shining bright
I was dreading the fact that the day might never come
When you wrap me in your arms and tell me it's fine
When you utter those words and protect me for life
My dread was increasing, my hopes were decreasing
I slowly shattered into a deep despair
Losing all senses of a fulfilled life and hope
I thought that the fantasies and dreams in my head are unrealistic and are merely an illusion
But then there you were, my protector, my hero
You grabbed me right at the end of the cliff and held me tight
You reassured and brought my soul back to life
You were my protector, and I was yours
We are now, now and forever, inseparable
For we suffered too long in the absence of one another
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
“i haven’t seen her in years,”
said the hospital bed,
“though i’ve seen many others,
who sobbed violently like her,
who sunk into me like a young, rusting anchor.
who could not get comfortable in one position or
one mindset or
one truth.
i have felt them dig in their heels
and try to ache and and fight and
scream, just quietly enough not to wake their roommate.”
“i remember their shapes,”
said the hospital bed,
“how their voices rose slowly like a far-off ambulance siren,
how their faces fell when they remembered the emergency
was right here.
i have been kicked, punched,
clung to, held on to,
as if gravity switched suddenly and they feared
yet another aspect of the universe was against them.
i’ve seen ***** sheets and i’ve seen clean ones. i’ve
seen boys with tattoos on their faces and
razor marks on their arms. i’ve seen pain.
i’ve seen girls who wouldn’t turn off the lights,
girls who couldn’t turn off the lights,
girls who had turned a light off once and never wanted
to do anything else. i’ve seen pain.
i’ve felt love before
more often than the lovers thought they loved,
more strongly than the fighters thought
they could fight.
in shaky hands folding down blankets
more carefully than they have all week
in heads that flop ungracefully onto
pillows, securely,
fulfilled.
in the slow turn of a hospital bracelet
around a pale wrist,
in large, golden brown hands,
inspected through tear-blurred eyes,
through scratched glasses,
picked up off the floor after discovering
force won’t carry a ring of thin plastic
as far as you thought.
i hear change in whispers,
good night, good luck,
in hushed acceptance, in ‘yes,
i really am here’. in
screams that send nurses in panic only to find
you were laughing. in numbers,
in ‘five hundred milligrams,’
in ‘three gained pounds’, in
‘one more day’.
i hear shock, i hear fear,
in echoes of parents’ voices,
‘why here? why now?’
i have heard and seen and felt all of them.
but she,”
continued the hospital bed,
“hasn’t been in here in a while.
i haven’t heard her whisper
to her roommate about what she did
‘that night’, i haven’t seen her
sneak away from her pile of pajamas
as if she didn’t just hide something there,
i haven’t heard her empathize
with a pencil sharpener.
it’s been so long,
it’s hard to imagine,”
said the hospital bed,
‘i hardly remember her'.
if only the hospital bed knew
that she could hardly remember
herself from then either,
if only it knew she hadn't stopped
fighting once she left
if only it knew
how she felt when they said
she only needed to go to therapy
every other week.
it felt like progress,
and it felt like hope,
and no one better than
a hospital bed
could understand that.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
- It's a skill that one must practice
A tool to wield with grace
It's a path paved for the cunning
Hidden by a pretty face
- You must learn to keep it simple
Don't add threads to growing web Don't pile on more fabrications
But add truth with it instead
- You must learn the ways of patience
Step back and let it build
Whisper words of sweet seduction
Until agenda is fulfilled
- See, ways of manipulation
Are obscure and gently made
Yet once you start you must dance on
In a lifelong masquerade
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
I'm scared
scared of things ending
scared of patterns breaking
scared of dreams broken
scared of words unspoken
scared of time going by
scared of a disappointed sigh
scared of a painful shove
scared of never finding love
But I'm also happy
happy about things ending
happy about patterns breaking
happy about dreams fulfilled
happy about silences killed
happy about times gone by
happy about nights ended on a high
happy about a friendly shove
happy about our one-time love
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
a date with destiny
many fulfilled
lots more to come
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 10:18 AM UTC