"glimmering" poems
Sometimes your heart needs to be broken
So you can see what's underneath,
To the flicker and flame of your soul
That you've always been destined to meet.
Sometimes your spirit shines brighter
Through the glimmering light of your tears,
And when you arrive at the end of it all
Love will outshine the darkest of years
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
And no one saw her hurting
They saw glimmering reflections of themselves
Off the broken shards that she was made up of
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
Last night I cried myself to sleep thinking about you,
the ********** chemistry that we used to share over
the midnight campfire, our sleek bodies rising in passion
with each bursting flame, deep shifting fingers pressed
up against thick sheets, as our ankles and thighs
harmonized and smiled, glossy green eyes filled
with lust and immense thoughts. Your soul was
calling out to me in the nighttime sky,
vibrant skin sifting inside timeless climaxes
and rewinds, shimmering lights and hypnotic
gleams, an ocean of water and poetry gliding on
booming beats. The world began to sink inside
our romance, the horniness of our hot flesh sizzling
in sparking temptations, deep designs and glimmering
patterns. And as our nations made music over earth’s
creation, brilliant escapes and captivating depths,
you were the magnificent star inside my kingdom,
the purest existence that could illuminate the fire
inside eyes.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 11:08 AM UTC
my childhood was removed from me
inside of a blue mustang
and what remained after that
I tried to barter off the highest bidder
but I grew,
not up,
but forward
further away
slowly releasing
hands of defiance
fists chock full of hopeless words
like anger, the flavor that aches the bone,
the cold kind,
more barren than the green of Christmas lights
glimmering off the icy veneer of a white picket fence
overeager, in the apathy of theatrics,
to strip off the remainder
because the empty feeling that followed
might one day
make a decent poem
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 6:27 PM UTC
In highschool
You fell asleep
The hair falling in your face
Your lips agape
And eyes shut gently
What would you dream, this time
Would it be about lost loves
That could have been
Like late night bloggers
Or 4am writers
Maybe even the boy
In highschool
You always cracked a joke
And you always curled your lips
Always smiling and always laughing
Your bright white teeth glimmering
Like the northern lights
What caused your smile, this time
Was it your current love
The always texting
Or the never replying
Maybe the haven't talked in years
In highschool
You'd tell stories
Your eyes lighting up
And your smile big
Your heart beating rhythmically
What was this story about, this time
Was it about the faceless distant love
Or the fateful long love
Maybe even the past love
In highschool
You were the light of the day
No matter what
You dreamed
You smiled
And you told your stories
In highschool
You were strong when everything inside you was weak.
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
The end of the affair is always death.
She's my workshop. Slippery eye,
out of the tribe of myself my breath
finds you gone. I horrify
those who stand by. I am fed.
At night, alone, I marry the bed.
Finger to finger, now she's mine.
She's not too far. She's my encounter.
I beat her like a bell. I recline
in the bower where you used to mount her.
You borrowed me on the flowered spread.
At night, alone, I marry the bed.
Take for instance this night, my love,
that every single couple puts together
with a joint overturning, beneath, above,
the abundant two on sponge and feather,
kneeling and pushing, head to head.
At night, alone, I marry the bed.
I break out of my body this way,
an annoying miracle. Could I
put the dream market on display?
I am spread out. I crucify.
My little plum is what you said.
At night, alone, I marry the bed.
Then my black-eyed rival came.
The lady of water, rising on the beach,
a piano at her fingertips, shame
on her lips and a flute's speech.
And I was the knock-kneed broom instead.
At night, alone, I marry the bed.
She took you the way a women takes
a bargain dress off the rack
and I broke the way a stone breaks.
I give back your books and fishing tack.
Today's paper says that you are wed.
At night, alone, I marry the bed.
The boys and girls are one tonight.
They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies.
They take off shoes. They turn off the light.
The glimmering creatures are full of lies.
They are eating each other. They are overfed.
At night, alone, I marry the bed.
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red as blood,
red as the sky when
the sunset sets it on fire.
shining like diamonds,
little seeds of hope in the
large, large, world.
they give you pleasure
as you savor them one by one.
the sweetness,
the tangy scent.
when Persephone ate those
innocent, glimmering seeds.
she had no idea of the fate
that lay ahead of her.
French for pomegranate
is grenade
a little bomb that goes off
a burst of flavor in your mouth
a splash of hope in your soul
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
there are bones between my teeth
moonlight glimmering in my eyes
dried blood in my nails, in my hair
my head pounding (thump. thump. thump.)
you know they say blood is thicker than water but that just means blood is more likely to stick in my throat
coughing up family ties one by one
glistening red memories, leaving only a metallic aftertaste
sick nightmare fantasy of ripping open bodies
im the monster in your fairytale stories
lets do a bit of editing, perhaps?
lets shred the whole **** book, perhaps?
lets set fire to the town, perhaps?
im tired of pretending to be your precious child, perfect student, "the innocent one"
i want to paint obscene material in your blood (in the name of art, of course)
@god do you ever feel unreal? are you even real? am i?
no i have to be real, I can feel the blood dripping down my arm, the bones cracking in my spine
im real. im real. im real.
everything hurts!!!!! fuCK i cant wait to rip you all to shreds !!!!!!
T H I S I S N O T A D R E A M
walking on eggshells is far more difficult with digitigrade legs, im not gonna try to be nice anymore
i dont need to be nice anymore
why be nice when you can **** why just **** when you can slaughter?
nobody can stop me from lighting up the post office,
nobody can stop me from gouging out your eyes
im no god but im closer than you
im no angel but you might be soon
close your blinds, lock your doors
big bad wolf is back again
bigger, badder, better wolf
greater, darker, madder wolf
teeth like knives and claws like daggers
six golden eyes staring into your soul
oh right, thats me!
i m i n y o u r h o m e
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 12:10 AM UTC
Let me love you in Silence,
I want to watch you,
observe all your pores
and spots where fine wrinkles have settled.
I want to see you
dance daintily like a flower
or grunt and hoof your way through space
like a grubby animal.
Either exalted or halted,
I want to hold you,
to cup your soft surrendered hands just like a clam shell,
and to cocoon
your weary beating body.
Let me love you in silence,
from afar
like a deer
hiding in the forest,
peeking out at the mysteries of the world.
I want to love you deeply
like the ocean loves the land
as she kisses its gentle shores
and runs away all too soon,
called by the moon.
I lay on the dusted hardwood of our home,
your washing the dishes and the fragrant smell of soap fills the air,
I lay underneath the door frame
tracing my eyes up and down your sweet body, your strong back hunched over. Hard working arms cleaning,
oh the little love secrets I keep to myself.
I want to run through meadows picking the most vibrant wildflowers
so I may lay them at your feet,
gently
quietly.
This yearning in my soul
words do not know this love,
these intangible feelings exuding.
I want to bathe you
in a claw foot tub
and in the silence
watch your eyes grow wide,
I want to see the wonderment
of a whole galaxy of stars glimmering inside you
before noise ushers such things away
before noise pulls me from this fantasy.
This dream that we are living,
it exists,
I know it does.
You can live it too, please please,
just close your eyes
and let love linger for a moment
feel loves sweet breathe
as she breathes in silence,
as she breathes
inside of you
and inside of me.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 7:17 PM UTC
We’d sit on the back porch
On the Fourth of July
Spitting watermelon seeds
Into the tall grass,
Which glimmered in the midday sun.
The competition of who could spit the farthest
Never really with a winner,
It was mostly about the feeling of the sun,
Glimmering on our pudgy cheeks,
And the opportunity to abandon our napkins,
Letting that cool watery juice spill
Down our white shirts, leaving pink stains
And permanent reminders of summer
Of course a tattoo is only as permanent
As the body that wears it:
I outgrew the shirts around the same time
As the world outgrew those little black seeds
This year on the Fourth of July
We sat inside making small talk
Because there weren’t any black seeds
In the watermelon we ate:
Just dehydrated flesh, the color a little
Farther from pink and closer
To the off-white color of those flakey little seeds,
Which were miraculously allowed to remain
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC
The leaves were long, the grass was green,
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinuviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen,
And light of stars was in her hair,
And in her raiment glimmering.
There Beren came from mountains cold,
And lost he wandered under leaves,
And where the Elven-river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves,
And her hair like shadow following.
Enchantment healed his weary feet
That over hills were doomed to roam;
And forth he hastened, strong and fleet,
And grasped at moonbeams glistening.
Through woven woods in Elvenhome
She lightly fled on dancing feet,
And left him lonely still to roam
In the silent forest listening.
He heard there oft the flying sound
Of feet as light as linden-leaves,
Or music welling underground,
In hidden hollows quavering.
Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves,
And one by one with sighing sound
Whispering fell the beechen leaves
In the wintry woodland wavering.
He sought her ever, wandering far
Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,
By light of moon and ray of star
In frosty heavens shivering.
Her mantle glinted in the moon,
As on a hill-top high and far
She danced, and at her feet was strewn
A mist of silver quivering.
When winter passed, she came again,
And her song released the sudden spring,
Like rising lark, and falling rain,
And melting water-bubbling.
He saw the elven-flowers spring
About her feet, and healed again
He longed by her to dance and sing
Upon the grass untroubling.
Again she fled, but swift he came,
Tinuviel! Tinuviel!
He called her by her elvish name;
And there she halted listening.
One moment stood she, and a spell,
His voice laid on her: Beren came,
And doom fell on Tinuviel
That in his arms lay glistening.
As Beren looked into her eyes
Within the shadows of her hair,
The trembling starlight of the skies
He saw there mirrored shimmering.
Tinuviel the elven-fair
Immortal maiden elven-wise,
About him cast her shadowy hair
And arms like silver glimmering.
Long was the way that fate them bore
O'er stony mountains cold and grey
Through halls of iron and darkling door
And woods of nightshade morrowless.
The Sundering Seas between them lay,
And yet at last they met once more,
And log ago they passed away
In the forest singing sorrowless.
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she expected
f i r e w o r k s
when she first kissed him.
little did she know that she was going to become the fireworks.
she was an easy target, and he had good aim.
as soon as she f
e
l
l
into his grasp, he was quick to send her back from where she came.
crowds gathered.
fathers' hands silenced their children's mouths as his loaded her into the mortar.
mothers' hands covered their children's ears as his lit the fuse.
she was shot forward by a merciless puff of dragon's breath,
and as she looked over her shoulder,
she saw the ash leaking from his nostrils.
stars beckoned to her.
glimmering, shimmering, shining stars extended their fiery hands to her already outstretched ones.
she rose higher and higher,
filling her lungs with the last bit of oxygen that was left,
and screamed.
he screamed.
her flaming body parts rained down in the form of asteroids, striking him.
stars spelled out her name and pulsed weakly like his dying heartbeat.
they both went from "are" to "were" in a matter of seconds, and everyone knew that their chemical reaction was triggered by fireworks.
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
Stories and poems
Love and shared coffees
Bus rides and jokes
I saw the sun glimmering
The corners crept in
The room became smaller
Breathing got harder and voices became more
My body became a canvas of my own doing
The blood became more and the smile slipped away in the dark
I became lost in a world of Bipolar Depression
With a new mixture of pills of various variety of color
The line between reality and fantasy became blury
Until a line was no more
I found comfort in creating art over my arms hidden by clothes
My days became a mixture of pills and emotional outbursts
It was like falling asleep, slowly at first and then all together
I was destroyed
I was distorted
I was redefined by darkness of late night cries
I was no more
I became a silent void
I became nothing
I became defined by my illness
I became my worst fear
I am a beautiful void
I am
I am
I am lost and captured in a glass jar labeled December Bipolar
I am no more
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
Fat;
Bubbly lipids gathering and stacking in a fashioned order.
Fat;
It was not so "fashionista" when she gained and gained.
Skinny;
She was lost, had no where to run but to the pantry.
Skinny;
Bones showing, skin glimmering in the sunlight.
Fat;
Sticking to her bones as paper sticks to glue.
Fat;
Poking and Prodding at the blubbery material that sits upon her femurs.
Unhappy;
She will always be.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
When do I see thee most, beloved one?
When in the light the spirits of mine eyes
Before thy face, their altar, solemnize
The worship of that Love through thee made known?
Or when in the dusk hours, (we two alone,)
Close-kissed and eloquent of still replies
Thy twilight-hidden glimmering visage lies,
And my soul only sees thy soul its own?
0 love, my love! if I no more should see
Thyself, nor on the earth the shadow of thee,
Nor image of thine eyes in any spring,—
How then should sound upon Life’s darkening slope
The ground-whirl of the perished leaves of Hope,
The wind of Death’s imperishable wing?
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As dark clouds thunder on a grey day,
Resounding across the arid plains,
I hear the loud cries of a bird,
It cuts across the rhythmic drumming of the clouds,
He's quiet for a moment, then I hear him again.
Through the trees I see him,
Royal, an electrifying metallic blue,
A peacock, stunning, strutting,
Fanning his train of feathers,
Eyespots of majesty, stroked with mossy hues.
He dances in a flamboyant display,
In spot light, as lightening flames the sky above,
Nonchalant, a blue crested head turns with pride,
His ornate train, shimmering, beckoning, to and fro,
His moves, a courtship ritual of love.
His iridescent trail woos in style,
A life of its own in its opaline shades
Golden, blue, brown and green,
Colors of the earth, gloriously resplendent,
A gathered spectacle in his plumage.
As drops of rain touch the earth,
He is still high on the wings of romance,
His feet in motion,
His feathers spread for his mate,
Quivering, glimmering a love dance.
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 10:57 AM UTC
Light fades away slow
And your feet move backwards
Underwater, underwater now
Shh shh shh, bubbles of time
Float by your eyes, glimmering
Glimmering
Black; in the dark every thing drowns
Back back back, you go now
Flow back, rewind to the start
Shh shh shh, it begins now
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 6:39 AM UTC
The deadly air of autumn’s blow
Empowered winter’s cold to flow,
But spring’s warmness began to grow,
Releasing summer’s smoothing glow.
It started out as a mer gaze,
Bringing my lonely heart ablaze,
We were lost in a lovely maze
Surviving the long autumn days.
Can we handle the freezing cold?
The one that wraps us close and hold
Unto each other like glimmering gold
As time stops, turning us into winter’s mold.
We slit in half, when spring arrived,
As I believed love was thrived,
I felt you had my heart revived
But it was clear you were contrived.
Now summer begins to boil down,
I can see all your endless frown,
You indeed fooled me like a clown,
So I watch our affair slip, drown.
Summer was to bring us together,
But spring showed we’re light as feather,
In winter we were twined with tether,
Did you enjoyed autumn’s weather?
Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
It was a hundred years ago,
When, by the woodland ways,
The traveller saw the wild deer drink,
Or crop the birchen sprays.
Beneath a hill, whose rocky side
O'erbrowed a grassy mead,
And fenced a cottage from the wind,
A deer was wont to feed.
She only came when on the cliffs
The evening moonlight lay,
And no man knew the secret haunts
In which she walked by day.
White were her feet, her forehead showed
A spot of silvery white,
That seemed to glimmer like a star
In autumn's hazy night.
And here, when sang the whippoorwill,
She cropped the sprouting leaves,
And here her rustling steps were heard
On still October eves.
But when the broad midsummer moon
Rose o'er that grassy lawn,
Beside the silver-footed deer
There grazed a spotted fawn.
The cottage dame forbade her son
To aim the rifle here;
"It were a sin," she said, "to harm
Or fright that friendly deer.
"This spot has been my pleasant home
Ten peaceful years and more;
And ever, when the moonlight shines,
She feeds before our door.
"The red men say that here she walked
A thousand moons ago;
They never raise the war-whoop here,
And never twang the bow.
"I love to watch her as she feeds,
And think that all is well
While such a gentle creature haunts
The place in which we dwell."
The youth obeyed, and sought for game
In forests far away,
Where, deep in silence and in moss,
The ancient woodland lay.
But once, in autumn's golden time,
He ranged the wild in vain,
Nor roused the pheasant nor the deer,
And wandered home again.
The crescent moon and crimson eve
Shone with a mingling light;
The deer, upon the grassy mead,
Was feeding full in sight.
He raised the rifle to his eye,
And from the cliffs around
A sudden echo, shrill and sharp,
Gave back its deadly sound.
Away into the neighbouring wood
The startled creature flew,
And crimson drops at morning lay
Amid the glimmering dew.
Next evening shone the waxing moon
As sweetly as before;
The deer upon the grassy mead
Was seen again no more.
But ere that crescent moon was old,
By night the red men came,
And burnt the cottage to the ground,
And slew the youth and dame.
Now woods have overgrown the mead,
And hid the cliffs from sight;
There shrieks the hovering hawk at noon,
And prowls the fox at night.
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wake up, the sun is cold
amongst the din of mourning doves
and impossible airwaves.
breathe, are you ready for
the apocalypse of silent words?
stuttering silver mercury
and glimmering plasma
tracing paths in your brain,
and the sun is cold,
so cold, and the coffee is black
and, my lover doesn't even know
who I am anymore.
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 9:10 AM UTC
Obsidian wind chimes
welcome the crashing waves
as another day exits, slowly
sinking beneath the bay.
Cool waters drenched in
an almost amethyst hue
offer mental reverberations
as I ponder what I am next to do.
Though the sea is but a tide
that ebbs & flows-
repletes & recedes-
her words of wisdom forgo
past the banks of her beaches
& spread a breeze to every corner
of night.
She beckons me within myself;
her deep abyss but a mirror.
Her waters shine in a glimmering splendor
as she makes the path ever clearer.
To leave this shore that raised me
is not a sign of disrespect, but a show
of honor. My broken levees have her
to thank & for that, I call her mother.
Sep 9, 2021
Sep 9, 2021 at 5:33 PM UTC
From beach to beach to beach, glimmering shimmers of sand laden waves lap lazily at your feet. The seaweed masquerade of the crab clumsily dancing amongst the foam is paradoxically poignant but apt.
Sighs of relief as the soothing sensation of the sea on hot blistered feet capture the essence of the moment. The simple pleasures of the beach; sand ridden toes and remarkably veined geodes; the golden grains and barnacle encrusted rocks provide a unique treasure indeed.
And then comes the gentle pitter-patter of a sunshower- putting a literal damper on things- but uniquely completing the picturesque scene.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 4:08 AM UTC
i.
Imagine, mine love
I'm on one knee;
ii.
Imagine mine love
No distance in-between;
iii.
Imagine mine love,
Thine glimmering
Wedding ring:
iv.
Imagine mine love
Preordainment's best
To bring;
v.
Imagine mine love
Angel's that wilt
Sing;
vi.
Imagine mine love
Just us two;
vii.
Imagine mine love
Making love upon new moon's;
viii.
Imagine mine love
Enthroned as mine muse;
ix.
Imagine mine love
Osculating that wilt soothe;
x.
Imagine mine love
Mine finger's stroke thy strand's;
xi.
Imagine mine love
On the sea of love we dance;
xii.
Imagine mine love
No world, nor worldly plan's;
xiii.
Imagine mine love
Toe's locked, buried neath' the sand;
xiv.
Imagine mine love
Hand held to hand in hand;
xv.
Imagine mine love
Thy head upon
Mine chest;
xvi.
Imagine mine love
The thought of nothingness;
xvii.
Imagine mine love
Mind free from pain and stress.
xviii.
Imagine mine love
Imagine mine love
This;
©Brandon Nagley
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
Tempestuous longings from behind the screen of life’s moving picture
You stare back at me, in a glimmering, shimmering afterthought
Laid low by foregoing passion
In a moment’s torrid glimpse from our hollow reflections
Fragrant evenings during seasons of filming
Solemnly captured and revised then experienced
The all encompassing struggle with context and setting
Abides a steely night, in the rustle of autumn branches
Requiem for an unremitting beloved!
Sung in the valley between piercing peaks of sorrow
She floats through the scene as distinct aura and vague essence
An embrace from the trail of vapors and misspent gestures
All emanating from a glass of cider beneath nostrils
Gracefully, you embank on the wind of time’s shadow
And nudge my cheek with impetus and vigor
Lashing out at my skin in ambivalent revelry
As if my follicles were vacuous caverns
Catching the callous moments which flutter the ***** of hillside tents
The unearthly gusts of banality extinguish the projector’s gleam
While nature embodies your beauty furthermore
Toward the end of the pathway
And the credits of the film
And the allegro of the score
And the solitude of eternity
And the rustling of the branches
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 12:09 AM UTC