"halts" poems
1. your precious smile,
that never failed to shine;
a heaven-sent beam,
that made my heart your realm.
2. your tenderness,
that gave me bliss;
how could someone be
like you, so dearly?
3. your good vibes,
that surpassed all tribes
in giving off the positivity
i need for my stubborn reality.
4. your talents,
that awakened everyone's hearts;
you are my significant inspiration,
you give life to my life's ambition.
5. your humility,
that's filled with sincerity.
while everyone else is toplofty,
you remained lowly.
not everyone as wonderful as you,
could show meekness too.
6. the happiness you shared,
at times when smiling is something
i never dared;
darling, it meant everything.
7. for your meaningful silence,
that gave me a better comprehension.
although your stillness was tense,
i knew in my heart it was never a rejection.
8. for your music,
that never halts to flourish.
music, your depiction of aesthetic;
through you, the melody will never tarnish.
9. for being your genuine self,
you gave me potency to do the same.
shamming is no longer something i'll play, for you taught me how to
end that witless game.
10. for bringing me daily sunshine,
for setting the moon & the stars aligned;
my everyday became better,
and i will treasure you forever.
there are way more reasons
on why i love you for real.
through the passing seasons
i could slowly & slowly reveal
and show you how i truly feel.
as time passes us by,
i would no longer hesitate
and keep my sentiments ensconced.
through the coming weeks, months and years,
as long as we have all the time
i would dauntlessly lay out to you
that the way i feel for you is true.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 8:45 AM UTC
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
phantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmalphantasmal
Asphalt Man
Phantasm La
Shaman Plat
Asthma Plan
****** Hast
****** Hats
****** Shat
Napalms Hat
Plasma Than
Sampan Halt
Sampan Lath
Manta Plash
A Plasma Nth
A Ham Plants
A Hams Plant
A Mash Plant
A Sham Plant
A Maths Plan
A Math Plans
A Than Palms
A Than Lamps
A Than Psalm
Aha Plant Ms
Alpha Tan Ms
Alpha Ant Ms
Lama Pas Nth
Lama Asp Nth
Lama Spa Nth
Lama Sap Nth
Lamas Pa Nth
**** Path Ms
**** Phat Ms
Natal Hap Ms
Alas Amp Nth
Alas Map Nth
Ha Lam Pants
Ha Palm Tans
Ha Palm Ants
Ha Lamp Tans
Ha Lamp Ants
Ha Palms Tan
Ha Palms Ant
Ha Lamps Tan
Ha Lamps Ant
Ha Psalm Tan
Ha Psalm Ant
Ha Lams Pant
Ha Alms Pant
Ha Slam Pant
Ha Malts Nap
Ha Malts Pan
Ha Malt Pans
Ha Malt Snap
Ha Malt Naps
Ha Malt Span
Ha Plan Tams
Ha Plan Mast
Ha Plan Mats
Ha Plans Tam
Ha Plans Mat
Ha Plants Ma
Ha Plants Am
Ha Plant Sam
Ha Plant Mas
Ha Slant Amp
Ha Slant Map
Ha Splat Man
Ha Plats Man
Ha Plat Mans
Ah Lam Pants
Ah Palm Tans
Ah Palm Ants
Ah Lamp Tans
Ah Lamp Ants
Ah Palms Tan
Ah Palms Ant
Ah Lamps Tan
Ah Lamps Ant
Ah Psalm Tan
Ah Psalm Ant
Ah Lams Pant
Ah Alms Pant
Ah Slam Pant
Ah Malts Nap
Ah Malts Pan
Ah Malt Pans
Ah Malt Snap
Ah Malt Naps
Ah Malt Span
Ah Plan Tams
Ah Plan Mast
Ah Plan Mats
Ah Plans Tam
Ah Plans Mat
Ah Plants Ma
Ah Plants Am
Ah Plant Sam
Ah Plant Mas
Ah Slant Amp
Ah Slant Map
Ah Splat Man
Ah Plats Man
Ah Plat Mans
Plash Ma Tan
Plash Ma Ant
Plash Am Tan
Plash Am Ant
Plash Man At
Plash Tam An
Plash Mat An
Lash Ma Pant
Lash Am Pant
Lash Man Tap
Lash Man Apt
Lash Man Pat
Lash Amp Tan
Lash Amp Ant
Lash Map Tan
Lash Map Ant
Lash Tamp An
Lash Tam Nap
Lash Tam Pan
Lash Mat Nap
Lash Mat Pan
Laths Ma Nap
Laths Ma Pan
Laths Am Nap
Laths Am Pan
Laths Man Pa
Laths Amp An
Laths Map An
Halts Ma Nap
Halts Ma Pan
Halts Am Nap
Halts Am Pan
Halts Man Pa
Halts Amp An
Halts Map An
Shalt Ma Nap
Shalt Ma Pan
Shalt Am Nap
Shalt Am Pan
Shalt Man Pa
Shalt Amp An
Shalt Map An
Halt Ma Pans
Halt Ma Snap
Halt Ma Naps
Halt Ma Span
Halt Am Pans
Halt Am Snap
Halt Am Naps
Halt Am Span
Halt Man Pas
Halt Man Asp
Halt Man Spa
Halt Man Sap
Halt Mans Pa
Halt Amp San
Halt Map San
Halt Maps An
Halt Amps An
Halt Sam Nap
Halt Sam Pan
Halt Mas Nap
Halt Mas Pan
Lath Ma Pans
Lath Ma Snap
Lath Ma Naps
Lath Ma Span
Lath Am Pans
Lath Am Snap
Lath Am Naps
Lath Am Span
Lath Man Pas
Lath Man Asp
Lath Man Spa
Lath Man Sap
Lath Mans Pa
Lath Amp San
Lath Map San
Lath Maps An
Lath Amps An
Lath Sam Nap
Lath Sam Pan
Lath Mas Nap
Lath Mas Pan
Ham La Pants
Ham Plan Sat
Ham Plans At
Ham Plant As
Ham Slant Pa
Ham Alp Tans
Ham Alp Ants
Ham Lap Tans
Ham Lap Ants
Ham Pal Tans
Ham Pal Ants
Ham Laps Tan
Ham Laps Ant
Ham Pals Tan
Ham Pals Ant
Ham Alps Tan
Ham Alps Ant
Ham Slap Tan
Ham Slap Ant
Ham Splat An
Ham Plats An
Ham Plat San
Ham Las Pant
Ham Slat Nap
Ham Slat Pan
Ham Salt Nap
Ham Salt Pan
Ham Last Nap
Ham Last Pan
Hams La Pant
Hams Plan At
Hams Alp Tan
Hams Alp Ant
Hams Lap Tan
Hams Lap Ant
Hams Pal Tan
Hams Pal Ant
Hams Plat An
Mash La Pant
Mash Plan At
Mash Alp Tan
Mash Alp Ant
Mash Lap Tan
Mash Lap Ant
Mash Pal Tan
Mash Pal Ant
Mash Plat An
Sham La Pant
Sham Plan At
Sham Alp Tan
Sham Alp Ant
Sham Lap Tan
Sham Lap Ant
Sham Pal Tan
Sham Pal Ant
Sham Plat An
Maths La Nap
Maths La Pan
Maths Alp An
Maths Lap An
Maths Pal An
Math La Pans
Math La Snap
Math La Naps
Math La Span
Math Plan As
Math Alp San
Math Lap San
Math Pal San
Math Laps An
Math Pals An
Math Alps An
Math Slap An
Math Las Nap
Math Las Pan
Than La Maps
Than La Amps
Than Lam Pas
Than Lam Asp
Than Lam Spa
Than Lam Sap
Than Palm As
Than Lamp As
Than Lams Pa
Than Alms Pa
Than Slam Pa
Than Alp Sam
Than Alp Mas
Than Lap Sam
Than Lap Mas
Than Pal Sam
Than Pal Mas
Than Laps Ma
Than Laps Am
Than Pals Ma
Than Pals Am
Than Alps Ma
Than Alps Am
Than Slap Ma
Than Slap Am
Than Las Amp
Than Las Map
Hap Lam Tans
Hap Lam Ants
Hap Lams Tan
Hap Lams Ant
Hap Alms Tan
Hap Alms Ant
Hap Slam Tan
Hap Slam Ant
Hap Malts An
Hap Malt San
Hap Slant Ma
Hap Slant Am
Hap Slat Man
Hap Salt Man
Hap Last Man
Hasp Lam Tan
Hasp Lam Ant
Hasp Malt An
Haps Lam Tan
Haps Lam Ant
Haps Malt An
Paths La Man
Paths Lam An
Staph La Man
Staph Lam An
Path La Mans
Path Lam San
Path Lams An
Path Alms An
Path Slam An
Path Las Man
Phat La Mans
Phat Lam San
Phat Lams An
Phat Alms An
Phat Slam An
Phat Las Man
Has Lam Pant
Has Palm Tan
Has Palm Ant
Has Lamp Tan
Has Lamp Ant
Has Malt Nap
Has Malt Pan
Has Plan Tam
Has Plan Mat
Has Plant Ma
Has Plant Am
Has Plat Man
Ash Lam Pant
Ash Palm Tan
Ash Palm Ant
Ash Lamp Tan
Ash Lamp Ant
Ash Malt Nap
Ash Malt Pan
Ash Plan Tam
Ash Plan Mat
Ash Plant Ma
Ash Plant Am
Ash Plat Man
Hast Lam Nap
Hast Lam Pan
Hast Palm An
Hast Lamp An
Hast Plan Ma
Hast Plan Am
Hast Alp Man
Hast Lap Man
Hast Pal Man
Hats Lam Nap
Hats Lam Pan
Hats Palm An
Hats Lamp An
Hats Plan Ma
Hats Plan Am
Hats Alp Man
Hats Lap Man
Hats Pal Man
Shat Lam Nap
Shat Lam Pan
Shat Palm An
Shat Lamp An
Shat Plan Ma
Shat Plan Am
Shat Alp Man
Shat Lap Man
Shat Pal Man
Hat Lam Pans
Hat Lam Snap
Hat Lam Naps
Hat Lam Span
Hat Palm San
Hat Lamp San
Hat Palms An
Hat Lamps An
Hat Psalm An
Hat Lams Nap
Hat Lams Pan
Hat Alms Nap
Hat Alms Pan
Hat Slam Nap
Hat Slam Pan
Hat Plan Sam
Hat Plan Mas
Hat Plans Ma
Hat Plans Am
Hat Alp Mans
Hat Lap Mans
Hat Pal Mans
Hat Laps Man
Hat Pals Man
Hat Alps Man
Hat Slap Man
A Ha Plant Ms
A Ah Plant Ms
A Halt Nap Ms
A Halt Pan Ms
A Lath Nap Ms
A Lath Pan Ms
A Than Alp Ms
A Than Lap Ms
A Than Pal Ms
A Hat Plan Ms
A La Maps Nth
A La Amps Nth
A Lam Pas Nth
A Lam Asp Nth
A Lam Spa Nth
A Lam Sap Nth
A Palm As Nth
A Lamp As Nth
A Lams Pa Nth
A Alms Pa Nth
A Slam Pa Nth
A Alp Sam Nth
A Alp Mas Nth
A Lap Sam Nth
A Lap Mas Nth
A Pal Sam Nth
A Pal Mas Nth
A Laps Ma Nth
A Laps Am Nth
A Pals Ma Nth
A Pals Am Nth
A Alps Ma Nth
A Alps Am Nth
A Slap Ma Nth
A Slap Am Nth
A Las Amp Nth
A Las Map Nth
Ha La Pant Ms
Ha Plan At Ms
Ha Alp Tan Ms
Ha Alp Ant Ms
Ha Lap Tan Ms
Ha Lap Ant Ms
Ha Pal Tan Ms
Ha Pal Ant Ms
Ha Plat An Ms
Ah La Pant Ms
Ah Plan At Ms
Ah Alp Tan Ms
Ah Alp Ant Ms
Ah Lap Tan Ms
Ah Lap Ant Ms
Ah Pal Tan Ms
Ah Pal Ant Ms
Ah Plat An Ms
Halt An Pa Ms
Lath An Pa Ms
Than La Pa Ms
Hap La Tan Ms
Hap La Ant Ms
Path La An Ms
Phat La An Ms
Hat La Nap Ms
Hat La Pan Ms
Hat Alp An Ms
Hat Lap An Ms
Hat Pal An Ms
La Ma Pas Nth
La Ma Asp Nth
La Ma Spa Nth
La Ma Sap Nth
La Am Pas Nth
La Am Asp Nth
La Am Spa Nth
La Am Sap Nth
La Amp As Nth
La Map As Nth
La Sam Pa Nth
La Mas Pa Nth
Lam Pa As Nth
Alp Ma As Nth
Alp Am As Nth
Lap Ma As Nth
Lap Am As Nth
Pal Ma As Nth
Pal Am As Nth
Las Ma Pa Nth
Las Am Pa Nth
A La Pa Nth Ms
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 9:05 AM UTC
#
Each body part
sizzled in pure pleasure
in the blissed wake
of your oral efforts
brought forth the waves
of rapturous delight...
Spurs poetic inspiration
in equal liberation
of desires to please.
Bodies transpose
in fluid motion
as brazen eyes meet.
Savor the voluptuous image before you.
Indulge your eyes in my carnal halo
before they roll to the back of your head.
On all fours
knees between your thighs
tips of swollen breast
caress your chest
tasting fresh honey
upon lips in a kiss.
Ripples of ardor
hover
by wet trails
of sensual kisses
suckling towards
the apex.
Breathe in
the slow motion pace
that pulsates eagerness
to the fore tumescing bulge
leaking with anticipation
of viscous lava.
Tickles of silken hair
against flesh edges closer.
Emerging subtle grumbles
in deep resonance
betray your impatience .
Hands tightly twine
in tangled hair
to maneuver
the treasure hunt.
Licked lips pause
at the sight of fire
burning in
glazed gazes
before engulfing
the throbbing member.
Plump ruby lips
greet velvety texture
in a slow deep dive.
Tongue curls around
the flavor
in a dulcet embrace.
Moans release
as grip tightens
in my hair
settles the
rhythmic pace
to taste in an
oscillating dance.
The masculine aroma of heady musk
lingering there, arouses my appetite.
With my enthusiasm
attuned to
your preferred rhythm
suckling, slurping
surface and dive
in measured unison.
Break of breath
allows tongue
freedom to roam below,
licking, soft kissing
the tender hammock
of testicles.
Tongue and lips escalate higher
to mount another assaulting dive
deeper in the depths
of the cusp in cavity.
Wetted fingers
probe even lower
circling superficially
as gasp escapes
your heavy breath;
flaming eyes lock.
Finger dips in
with expert finesse
gorging hardened growth
within a wrapped hand.
Thighs tighten
with rocking grip.
Head thrusts onward,
drilling forward
in each dive.
Salvia slips
fingers grip
lips dip
Engorged swell, flesh tightens in an intensity
of volcanic eruption ...
HALTS
assault
Pace retracts.
Loosened lips kiss tip.
*“Soon sweetheart, your time will ***
inside me as we surrender to synergy."*
#
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
The evolution of art never halts
Once we began dancing around fire
Our feet couldn't stop
A place in our lives
Where our subpar seeds
Could be seen as glowing trees
That's the way I feel about my poetry
It reminds me a lot of me
I reread it and rewrite it so often
By the end it seems unoriginal and plain
And all I can hope
Is the themes and ideas that were the inspirational genesis
Remain intact
Art walks a tightrope over the most unpredictable factor
The audience
They are the other half of art
Their power cannot be overstated
And as time progresses
Their power grows
And the importance of art always extends an equal distance
But the stronger art becomes
The more it asks of it's audience
In many cases
The audience is not ready to take the call
This is one of those times
Here at the current pinnacle of art
Surfing the web
A wonderful chance as
Art is a reflection of people and society
The Internet is people and society
But just as we listen to songs
To decide what concert to go to
Or watch trailers
To decide what movie to see
We like what we like
And put blinders on to find it
Like moths to fire
We could do amazing things
If we could harness the potential
Of our collective conscious
But the threat of losing our individuality
Is too great for us
Unable to accept
Our individuality is always in the context of our cosmic existence
We are part of something greater
And we can't escape that
Even in death
We feed what lies beneath
The memory of our lives
Shrinks to obscurity
The maggots that cover our corpses
Flourish to maturity
Everything this world creates is art
And we are it's most complex creation
Not necessarily the best
We just have the most parts
And the maggots that use our dead bodies for sustenance
Were once the monsters that roamed this Earth
They had no nationality
Or political affiliations
Or religion
And they're still here
Waiting to reclaim their throne
Once "smarter" species seek suicide
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 10:19 PM UTC
Late night. Footsteps.
Crane necks and girders.
Fog lifts. The wind cries.
Steel bones in moonlight
I'm out
so late now
and it's Sunday night and Summer's ending
soon.
I'm aging
with questions
fermenting in my mouth
ignored for years
Fenced off. Unfinished
project shelved and waiting
for next Spring.
Cool night eclipsing
years spent indexing,
answers mislaid and
blueprints unrolling
Components rusting,
crane necks and girders.
Steel bones in moonlight.
Tight lipped and staring.
Fall comes
construction
halts now and the walls stand half
complete
And outside
the chain link
shrugging off the cold and
still wondering when
Step through unfinished
building. Get home. Shelved
until next Spring.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
The song is gone; the dance
is secret with the dancers in the earth,
the ritual useless, and the tribal story
lost in an alien tale.
Only the grass stands up
to mark the dancing-ring; the apple-gums
posture and mime a past corroboree,
murmur a broken chant.
The hunter is gone; the spear
is splintered underground; the painted bodies
a dream the world breathed sleeping and forgot.
The nomad feet are still.
Only the rider's heart
halts at a sightless shadow, an unsaid word
that fastens in the blood of the ancient curse,
the fear as old as Cain.
6.8k
somehow her hair halts me at every sentance
a dark brown finsh over a cute slinder face
her personalty speaks rhthmic poetry
like a connection over mortal things
and the only thing she said was hi
normaly i would forget a greeting
but it seems so inviting if the whole world went left it seemed like the right thing
so like lightning i respond hi
tripped over my words
and got lost in her eyes
a pale blue that could unviel any disguise
she said my name is hannah
and so nearly 2 hearts almost coldide
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
Jagged edges , sharp turns
and screeching halts.
what a build up.
impatient for the explosion,
yet trudging on.
waiting.
hoping for that silver lining,
a moment to breathe
gone too soon
heaving, grasping, panting.
more turns, and sharper edges.
like a lead foot on an open road
faster, faster
too fast
losing control
trying to find something to hold on to.
someone.
but nothing,
no one.
you scream
louder, harder
tears pouring.
hands clenched
heart pounding.
there's no stopping.
you let it take over.
faster, faster.
you can see it.
too fast.
the end of the..
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
There is no prize to perfection,
No crown for its endless direction.
Only the stillness, cold and mute,
Of a dream that halts in its pursuit.
The edge of longing, sharp and thin,
Cuts deeper than the goal within.
For what is gained when all is won,
If the chase extinguishes the sun?
Perfection lies in things undone,
In breaths that falter, threads unspun.
For life is richer, raw, unplanned,
A fleeting touch, a trembling hand.
There is no need for flawless art,
But space to mend the human heart.
No prize awaits, no grand pursuit—
Only life’s quiet, imperfect truth.
Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 12:25 PM UTC
Fatima Latima
I had wished I had no gift of sight
That the worst I could endure is hear you speak
And not snapshot the footfall of your gradation
You may not be a thief
Nor **** daughter of the dayspring
But definitely my heart you stole
I speak of the daughter of Arabia
Aesthetically, she rocks
The queen of the pilgrim sands
And aeonian desert stones
Beyond the hijab
Artistically knead with consummate craft
Like the relics of Mecca
Blest by the prophet’s bones
The blessed
I see torches
Beaming with intelligence
Within those mascaras
Exquisitely trimmed and vibrant
A lulu class botany
She fixes a searching gaze
As she saunters close
And the stride and tread
Beats a drum entrancing
Soothed in her solacing spell
I give in, to her lullaby
She halts her perambulation
Stands magniloquent and stupefy
Like some pop diva magazine pose
Or Victorian secret shot
A tactical derangement of her gluteals
As she rests her palm in its cleft
I feel contractions, my dartos muscles
The blew of summertime
Gently beats her exceptional form
Her belt submerge her thigh crevice
Cleft by the sundered rift of fleshy fat
Built by the dainties and delicacies
Seasoned by the finest Arabian chef
As her silken dress slithers and gowns
Under the breeze bulging and blooming
Like a rose blossom or sunflower fore
As she bends down
To assuage the burlesque
The sun specula lilts her sensational
Her smile apologetic bids me stillness
I am caught staring
Guzzling down her scent and
Feasting on empty imaginations
Of What If that accentuate the mind and
Speed a hormone
And I pray I sin no more
Next time we meet and I see her again
For I am but a writer
Learning to use my pen and paper
And hope you but forgive
My linguistic impotence
When I make my confession
Employing too plain a language
When I say thus;
Her smile is classical
Her walk magical
Her beauty celestial
Her stride sensational
Her religion ethical
Her character spotless
And that leaves me breathless
And forgive if I step on broken toe
And try speak of the unspoken
Her ****** is sacred
Her being a type that dresses up
In the milliards of brutes dressing down
And shamelessly style it fashion
I must see a priest
One confession I ought to utter
And even vociferate abroad
For once I had fallen in love
With an Arabian Beautie
A ****** of Mecca.
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 9:12 AM UTC
Antimatter mirroring our existance on the pathway of a reverse world
Imagine it, time stands still, halts without a will to continue its flow if it were to possess one to begin with, and everything is but fragile,
Illusionary moon, shine on in this distorted realm in which not even gravity is reliable or even trustworthy at this point, up is down here,
An imperishable night caught under a spell of eternity, uninterrupted
Everlasting, permanently shining, the fake moons appearance is clear,
Unremitting, sweetly told as a if it was a lie, the rumours of this world spread more likely like a disease through the ancient, young earth,
A line parallel drawn to ours, a dimension coexisting without sense,
It appears to be fragile, like a newborn child, the smallest disturbance would mostlikely ruin it's balance, bring tremor upon it wretchedly,
But where that life sparkles as then fades, two dimensions surely would overlap, of course, maybe it will be the world you inhabit, no?
In the realm of the dead, a loitering, lingering darkness thins the borders of reality and illusion, causing them to exist as one, now with the same heart and soul, a fantasy heaven which became reality,
After all, that place is only temporary,one surely could even call it a;
Short living eternity,
~ Umi
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
sometimes i feel hopeless
like it's never going to get better
it's been a roller coaster
of ups and downs
mostly downs
i want to get off this ride
too many hills
too many loops
too many abrupt halts
but i can't
i can't get off without hurting someone
what's one person though?
not like i have so many people
who love and adore me
who care and are concerned
i'll give this ride another chance
life is like a never ending rollercoaster
ups and downs and sideways
all i can do is go up, my friend
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 8:06 AM UTC
Cramping legds their crying
Like the babes, lying
In their mothers' arms
What are the charms
Which parents ensnare
Like poisonous air
Be witched to reproduce
Nature's silent truce
Though you die you can live
Vicariously and give
What makes you, you
To another imbue
The train halts brakes squealing
Interlocking carriages feeling
Each other and the air
Signal lights stare
And the track opens up before us
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 7:04 AM UTC
“The Carousel”
February 7th, 2014.
Valerie Viele
There is never a moment to stop
A real stop
A true stop
A sincere stop
When everything quits, halts, ceases and refrains
No matter where one stands
or what character one sits upon
Even if one is stationary
The carousel still revolves
One can walk this way
One can walk that way
One can lie down
but the carousel still revolves
Can one get off?
Can one get back on?
Can one make the choice?
There is never a moment to stop
and the carousel still revolves
SSK<3
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 2:29 AM UTC
The bus rumbles on,
it is an over crowded one -
not an unusual sight -
she stands in the space
reserved for women,
there's hardly any room
to breathe.
The broadcaster on radio
shows off her gift of the gab,
a popular film song follows;
a gush of wind
through the window
brings along smoke, dust
and other such components
of 'city-air'.
She looks out to see
impressive malls,
entrances to which, witness
beggars pursuing well dressed gentry,
in the hope of a penny or two;
billboards advertise
latest discount offers
appealing to her consumerist instincts;
constant honking of vehicles,
music blaring from an auto nearby -
these are common sounds
she is accustomed to.
The bus halts with a jolt,
she steps down,
tries to make her way,
through the crowd
avoiding hawkers lunging at her
from every side,
eager to make sales;
the smell of
pakodas fills the air,
autos carrying seven or eight passengers
limp away, surreptitiously,
at the sight of khaki clad men.
Out of the blue,
an elbow knocks into her chest,
she turns to look at the lout -
lecherous eyes mock at her impotent fury -
she mouths standard abuses,
walks away as if unruffled.
For this was not the first instance,
"Won't be the last either.",
she thinks at the back of her mind,
her heart chooses not to agree though.
She moves on,
pushing, shoving, cursing
her way through
'Battleground India'.
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 3:08 AM UTC
i remember it all so clearly:
walking home with you,
conversation starts.
sitting on the couch:
you invite me to lie down,
conversation halts.
your hands on my thighs,
your lips on my neck.
you: unable to resist me.
we started off slow but i knew
i'd already surrendered all control.
me: unable to restrict you.
i opened myself up to you
tore down my walls
and exposed
my naked soul
in return
you took advantage
of my vulnerability
and violated
my naked body
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 11:11 AM UTC
It no longer exists.
The wind; a passing gale sweeps
my laurels.
The desert is filled, too many
my voice.
Origin, a return to birth.
A sword of blazing fire, winged
halts me.
Where are you Eden?
I look and look,
the desert is filled with voices too many,
which is mine or do i have any?
The sun no weeps, I sing.
Myself, I find, thick of leaves
I carry, it sings no longer green.
Winged fire sword ablaze,
use I, leaves dry. Outstretched,
brown, my arms, fail to sky
afire. Feet my burns, I no walk longer.
Stiff, I root my tree to flower.
Fragrant white flowers, settle.
Pray I to you, of hope I joy.
Bring life to water, Frame of sky
Bring, Abba, Father.
(Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal - February 1, 2011)
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
Light breaks where no sun shines;
Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart
Push in their tides;
And, broken ghosts with glowworms in their heads,
The things of light
File through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones.
A candle in the thighs
Warms youth and seed and burns the seeds of age;
Where no seed stirs,
The fruit of man unwrinkles in the stars,
Bright as a fig;
Where no wax is, the candle shows its hairs.
Dawn breaks behind the eyes;
From poles of skull and toe the windy blood
Slides like a sea;
Nor fenced, nor staked, the gushers of the sky
Spout to the rod
Divining in a smile the oil of tears.
Night in the sockets rounds,
Like some pitch moon, the limit of the globes;
Day lights the bone;
Where no cold is, the skinning gales unpin
The winter's robes;
The film of spring is hanging from the lids.
Light breaks on secret lots,
On tips of thought where thoughts smell in the rain;
When logics die,
The secret of the soil grows through the eye,
And blood jumps in the sun;
Above the waste allotments the dawn halts.
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Here I sit, pen in hand a mighty sword, unsheathed. Ready to plunge its tip into the blank pages of this book. A lifeless martyr ready to spill its blood in delivering a profound message. It will fight wars on paper readily pour out its life out at its masters will. Its meets an ignorant page and leaves it a scholar. It transforms shapeless thoughts into vivid language. It halts at memories of old, days of love, joy, surprise, anger, frustration, sadness, fear and solitude. It wonders of days yet to pass, will it write anymore. For the present time, it is content laying in-between the pages of this book.
Jul 26, 2012
Jul 26, 2012 at 11:10 PM UTC
head to pillow
heart asleep
my eyes: exhausted
for insomnia has taken my mind
endless sleep on morning's light
yet night never takes me
irritated eyes
I toss and I turn
I beg to fall into slumber
my head does not stop moving
but then it halts
halts into the most obscure position
halts into; "why am I thinking about this"?
insomnia, it is 2015
your existence is as old as time
but instant streaming is new, and I'm not alone with my thoughts
in fact...
I believe my literary repertoire is built off insomnia...
let me sleep now for rested sounds peaceful
2:00am poems never bothered me
and music sounds better when no one is awake
but please, let me sleep
allow me to loll into drowsiness
I am telling you I am tired
2mg of Klonopin...still restless
2 boxes of chocolate...still broken
Insomnia, you are an illness
but please have mercy on my sanity
for I am losing it,
and yearn to merely breathe
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 2:14 AM UTC
This is not Love, perhaps,
Love that lays down its life,
that many waters cannot quench,
nor the floods drown,
But something written in lighter ink,
said in a lower tone, something, perhaps, especially our own.
A need, at times, to be together and talk,
And then the finding we can walk
More firmly through dark narrow places,
And meet more easily nightmare faces;
A need to reach out, sometimes, hand to hand,
And then find Earth less like an alien land;
A need for alliance to defeat
The whisperers at the corner of the street.
A need for inns on roads, islands in seas,
Halts for discoveries to be shared,
Maps checked, notes compared;
A need, at times, of each for each,
Direct as the need of throat and tongue for speech.
2.8k
Because I could not wire a Plug,
It wired itself to me.
The carriage held but just ourselves,
And Electricity.
We passed the school, where children strove
To gain some erudition,
Ah! what a shame I did not learn
To be an Electrician.
For who would think a wire called live
The life of humans halts?
My wiring style contains, I fear,
Two hundred forty faults.
Since then 'tis centuries, and yet
We drive for all we're worth;
The eternal heavens seem so live;
So neutral seemed the earth.
Jun 3, 2010
Jun 3, 2010 at 7:48 AM UTC
When will this suspicion
Go into remission?
Splitting like nuclear fission
Is their miserable mission
So they poke and ****
Claiming I'm a fraud
Thinking they're my god
Which seems kind of odd
Because they know so little
And I know so much
I play them like a fiddle
Then eat them for lunch
For when it comes to raging rhetoric
I prove myself to be the better *****
They turn suspicious
So I become vicious
And treat them like *******
Because all of their wishes
Are of being capable witches
So they can morph me into a frog
Maybe then I'll hope on their log
And live the limited life they want
But they'll always tease and taunt
So my sensitive secrets I'll flaunt
To disarm their negative notions
Yet that's a never ending ocean
We live in a world of suspicion
With a hatred ignition
We live in a world that's a prison
A world that's sad to envision
Where everyone's a guard
And everyone is charred
By the judge
Who throws sludge
At the fragile mirror
To make hatred clearer
We must break the lawyers' locks
And sell their suspicious stocks
For when we fear one another
We don't hear one another
Communication goes
Suspicion grows
That's the flow
While we sit in our vaults
Hoping that this halts
But it never stops
In a world of cops
A world that's continually turning
While suspicion keeps burning
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 4:47 AM UTC
I am made of infatuation, shame and forever gloom
You could not fall
This is not the chessboard of your dreams
No pawn makes—
No bishop makes
The queen takes, is taken an equal
This is not an aisle of rebirth
Or some sombre remembrance
It halts, it halts
The numbers lessen
I did not abandon, I am still here
Yet, a halt lingers
Like death stuck on the precipice of throat
A life of a single lifetime of a thought
I am energy, a little restless
But restless so out of the nature of self
Like the eye of a rook
On the king through a rook
A stupor unblinking
Like the sharpening of a dream
The knight-slide like an Arabian sword
The king scuttles
Rook takes rook, king takes rook
I fancied myself a manly dream
But it doesn’t work like that, does it—
The game writes, and children play
Now I wait the shameful minutes away
(And I watch your hands, so patient, simple
Say, are you dead or pleased?)
And I watch your hands
I should’ve looked up when I had the chance
Now the brooding leaves
And my eye hardens
Father, you have won
With a dream so well, you played just right
I should have not worshipped the pawns like that
Oct 1, 2022
Oct 1, 2022 at 6:09 AM UTC
Manhattan by line,
by subway track purr,
by foot in a midwinter
fresh, gale force air.
The dying battery in
Times Square's wristwatch,
halts hands in mid air,
each hailing the second taxi
that comes to them
every next minute;
definitely in the next ten.
Buried benches in thigh high
snow look lost, with
only their branching tops
on display for the tourist's show,
tramping through
this January snow.
Double-back, back
past the Chipotle store,
where diners stand and eat,
stand and greet,
stand with napkins to appear neat,
stand near the radiator to warm their feet,
stand-in-the-corner-and-text-your-wife-saying-you'll-be-home-late-because-this-meaty-wrap-is-pleasurable-to-eat.
He was with another woman, kissing her cheek.
Manhattan is a horizon of horizontal lines,
drawn by pencil lead, led up a page
to create this fascinating portrait
that a point-and-click-camera
cannot comprehend,
let alone negotiate.
We can go unnoticed there, like
most others in this gale force air,
but billboard boys-
the ones that braid ****** building hair,
window panes
and balcony balustrade-
are the famous ones
of Broadway, with nothing more
than their commercial stare.
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 10:33 AM UTC