"harboured" poems
you say i trust to equal those in the past
whom have brought only pain and hatred
upon those in their wake?
well it's time to take a look in the mirror
my friend, no, wait, don't do that,
i wouldn't want to inflate your ego
it would come as no surprise to me if in that
mirror you would only see the eighth wonder
of the world, ever wondered if you could see
the world? i take that back, there is no sense
in snapping and losing my temper,
but all i'm doing is back tracking and
finding my self exempt of the respect that i
deserve, only you can serve to notice
the pain that you have harboured
upon the empty hearts of which now yearn
for that ever self-loving and i can only leave
you with this advice
turn around and back off
that ain't love it's idolatry.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 9:39 AM UTC
The Canvas Skin strikes again
With a breakdown of mental boundaries
My mind has never stretched so far
Or expanded to such an extent
That the former impossible
Is now within such short grasp
And the idea that was harboured within
Is now beautiful ink
Underneath skin.
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
If only for peace his swan song sighed
Amidst the gallant yet frightened few
With weary bones a heavy heart
Beat might when spied the resilient wharf.
For ships who berthed they uttered words
In thanks for land upon this sea
As storms would rage to shatter strengths
In triumph our pier had welcomed thee.
Like those who’d trod its solid beams
And left these shores to honour King
Behind them stood our naval borough
Whose people echoed valiant deeds.
For ships that harboured off our shores
And streets of London that prayed for calm
Forget we not our honoured task
To protect this land in air & sea.
And now that candles gently flicker
Uniting friend & foe as one
As doves fly by we thank the heavens
For the peace that grows upon our cliffs
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 9:26 AM UTC
I was born of your dreams..
...an eruption of your molten desires...
Once, dormant, beneath an ocean of ice,
Warmed only by the lips of the sun,..
and the eyes of the moonlight...
Your fire pierced the currents
of my dissolution,
Parted the seas of my slumbar
Your infringement into my sagacity
Ravaged salacious unleashings...
An unexpected inferno...
Of a once guarded matrimony,
Vows exchanged between a bleeding heart
And the fury of a dream, just out of reach,
into the tomb it was placed within;
by hands of whispers...
This frigid grave, where I lay in surrender...
Until.....
That moment your eyes gazed me to sway
beneath hands that strummed the rhythm of a song...
I was destined to dance, within you,
You were destined to play, within me...
Uncultivated, untamed, primitive....
The shackles of my reserve
Released by the ****** in your eyes...
Unlocking all the secrets I had ever harboured...
They were yours, now...,
As was I....
A volatile surge of your hunger
Dancing in the flames upon these seas of your dreams...
Enraptured in the warmth
of your breath....
...that set me free...
Fueled by the passion of your thirst
Unraveled by the strength of your embrace...
That unbridled the reigns
As I ascended into the realms of heaven...
Upon the wings of ecstasy
Breathed into the heart of my soul
In tender whispers of your love....
...that ravaged me again...
...and again...
...and again...
...into the stillness of sighs...
...where I was born, of your dreams....
...resurrected, in the sweat of your needs...
~sigh~
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 3:58 PM UTC
For the past few months
Our great nation has experienced great tragedies
But we didn't turn out to be sloths
Though our fates are still bidden
As the brumous weather draws near
A hirareth comes with fear
But the spirit of Christmas gets warmer
The yuletide becomes louder
It's about time to heed this very call
We must stand up for the good of all
It cradles an ambiguous thought
Which the human hear long sought
In this form of literature
I hope to inspire the people of this nation, to understand its nature
And start effecting some changes
To seek out the strangest,
To venture the wilderness of the lost peace & harmony
And restore this country's prosperity
In this season, may we stop all forms of quarrels
For we are no rebels
Of this glorious season
That brings joy to me with a great reason
This Christmas is a grandiose season
Let us stop every kind of treason
Let us set aside all our hard feelings
That has been harboured in our hearts
Let this Christmas be different
Let this be the time when we relent
Let this be the Christmas when we share
Everything that we may share for this season is rare
It's Christmas time
We share not just a dime
Even prayers for our fellowmen
And joy for all men
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 9:16 AM UTC
I reminisce quite often
of your touch
and
the unabashed ****** experimentation's
we've shared.
I know my worth,
so don't you go forgetting,
I had you with your mouth agape,
your toe's curling
as
you cried out my name...
call my conceit one of a kind,
because
I know the way you stare,
the way your eyes lustfully & licentiously devourer me,
the way you crave me
and
how you cling to the memories of us,
in bed.
Your priapic lust for me
is
equally accepted & measure,
almost to a point where
I could have bodily-combusted
since
you always seem unable to stop,
but
you must know,
I have a very arcane little list and lucky for you
I've let you in...
hahaha lucky indeed & better for me.
My concupiscence language
and
metaphors simplify & convey my lustful intent.
In simpler terms just know I want to repeat are coupling,
I'd like you to to bend me over and stretch me to my fullest.
open me widely
and
dance with in my silken Venus’ cradle,
entangle me into
a dreamlike haze,
in which my fantasy and reality are indistinguishable.
I know you've harboured about me & the many ways,
all the very excitingly different ways you could defile
and desecrate my ripe tight little body,
I see more clarity and certainty of what might happen,
if ever
I'd allow you to spend the night with me again,
I still remember our passionate nights together,
oh so very well,
I can see it,
I taste us and worst yet,
I can feel your animalistic
and
sometimes brutal ****** assault on me,
I still feel you deep within
my seductive tight little love box.
Your
a
cannibalistic-cunnalinguist master,
causing havoc within me,
as you attack hungrily
between my thighs,
sending me spinning,
sending me on a intoxicating high.
Our last encounter,
left me unable to breathe,
barely able to walk and yet I have no regrets,
well maybe just one,
and that is;
all good things must come to an end!
(until I heal.)
Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®
K.A.C.L.N ©
All right reserved ®
Copyright 1977 - Present ©
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
Enigmatic wanderings
Amid a field of plenty
Just can't explain the voiding
In the middle of the crowd.
Vaccuous emmissions
from a phrase of promiscuity
defy a wealth of knowledge,
harboured inwardly, out loud.
Enigmatic wanderings
Amid this field of plenty
Expressing dissillusionment
In uttterance unsaid,
Profoundly disconcerting
With banality's omission
In the way it lets suspension hang,
Precariously, till dead.
Marshalg
22 March 2014
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 7:33 PM UTC
.
Oh how it is… that when I dream,
You’re captured there within,
For it is the same… of every dream,
Your looming shadow has always been.
The echo of the sweetest voice,
Rises up each time… in the dreams I knew,
Uttered out from an angelic voice… a song,
A song that comes from you.
I search each night within those dreams,
To find and capture you… and not to let you go,
Yet you slip through my fingers like lucent mist,
To be seen… but not to hold.
How dear Libby… you haunt my dreams,
And my heart you also stole,
That it would not in the slightest… be shocking to me,
If you also harboured my very soul.
How it is that you own me…. Libby my love,
That reality I wish weren’t even true,
For it is in my dreams that I am free to hold on to thee,
And have a dance with you.
And when I see you now my love,
Though as beautiful as you seem,
Reality pulls me back into life,
With only the memories of a dream.
Yet I know deep… deep down,
And right from the very start,
That reality is not so bad,
Because in reality… I own your heart.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC
I speak to you in rare moments of sleep
As shipping news speaks of conquered waves
You wear the look of women in coastal cafes
Who have read between the fishing headlines
And cast away puzzle pages
Tea-ring-stained
For weeks
Yet swear daily they do not weep
I speak to you in those rare moments of sleep
As ships speak in song to lighthouse light
Yet I know that when awake
Should in time come the chance
To really speak
My words may not rise
From any squall-safe
Harboured-heart place
But undelivered with the dead litter of shore
Cling as whelk would
To the frame of some drift door
I can neither close
Or in clinging
Allow tides
To erase
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
But no
merchant of the seas is he,
plundering wide & wandering free.
harboured portside sweetly he's *******
with fingers so deft, a bountiful plucking
*pink diamond hearts locked in heaving chests;
emeralds and sapphires* ~to all~ he attests!
wrecking the ships, he doesn't keep,
taking their precious
secrets deep.
@
><
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 4:13 PM UTC
Smouldering pain of ancient harboured, in the heart inflamed
of a passion, amassed whole of suffering earth nestled in your breast,
came alive in her who mastered the seven realms, whose
aspiration ardent brought down in that simpleton, grace that
poured forth like a pitcher upturned on this world enamoured of death.
Ah, that simpleton who never could fathom caprice that condones
commerce in the very heart of the temple of justice, the virtue and sin
the learned uphold that cannot see in the neighbour's fall,
ones own, or how if the father that birthed the world is divine,
his children be brutes or kin of daemons that deserve stoning to death?
O Magdala, Magdala, your daughter weeps today!
A drop of blood dries the sands today, heavens weep in the tears
silent of she who stands by the cross today, even abandoned by those
for whom he gave so much; In the still dark night grace walked
the stormy water; and Lazarus returns from wherefore who knows;
A husbandsman reads and answers doubts in minds of learned pharisees.
For every whiplash cast was cast on the earth wide. Every insult
taunted the winds draping your arms. That girdle of thorns, mother,
was placed indeed on your mourning heart. When the cross
ascended slicing the firmament, heavens were mute to your pain,
lama sabachtani, sabachtani, grieves the earth unto the empty, parted skies.
O Magdala, Magdala, your daughter weeps today!
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 2:18 PM UTC
There is a calmness after a storm to remind you nothing is permanent; not even the storms that once roared so fiercely, not even the calmness after. There is no calmness when he walked away but there was no storm either, his footsteps werent puddles and he wasnt a rain cloud. The house didnt shake and the furniture didnt rattle the only thing that did, was your frame but there was no calmness because inside you was a hurricane composed of regret and remorse and confusion and longing shook you in every thought you harboured and ached in every breath you took until it was too much to contain and you see the storm in your eyes and hear the thunder in your screams. You wonder what you can do the calm the raging storm what can you do; sixteen is not an adequate age to be handling storms well enough to not leave a mess of an aftermath. But all storms will eventually cease and so will this, and in the silence of the night you are kept awake trying to remember the calmness before the storm, and after it. Outside the wind is howling and it is a beautiful sound; the downpour steady, it keeps you at peace and before the soft cosmic rays of dawn reaches your windowsill on nights like these,you anticipate another storm.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
Solace is found within Triumph
Triumph is brought by Trial
Trial is experienced through Pain
Pain is harboured in Words
Words are of the Tongue
The Tongue is taught by the Mind
The Mind is taught by the Eye
The Eye learns from People
People learn from books
Books harbour Words
Words must be written
Writing is Solace.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:36 PM UTC
You will not be harboured forever,
You are not meant to stay still.
Storms might threaten & hurt, however,
Stagnation, no doubt, will ****
Get ready, fix all loose ends,
Keep on sailing, flit, explore!
And say "Hi" to all my friends,
If you see them near the shore.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 9:46 AM UTC
-*If I were ***** who would I choose?*
The lovely Edmund treated her kind
Indeed, kind he was in her mind
He was protective of her
His words were of comfort
She doted on him so much
That seeing him with another depressed her
The charming Henry grew fond of her
On her gentleness and modesty he dwelled
In her modest and elegant manners, he found charm
There was a sweetness to her which felt warm
And Henry was seduced by such gentleness
He found her timidity so delightful
That for her, he harboured feelings so soon
Yet in Fanny’s innocent eyes
Crawford’s flirtations led to his own demise
Not indifferent to what seemed to be sincere efforts
He forcing his love on her however proved just worse
She was too much convinced of his pretence
In his endeavour, she found not grace but nonsense
His unsteadiness
Her ineffable kindness
They were too much different
On such belief, she wouldn’t be bent
On the other hand
There stood Edmund, oh dear Edmund
He cared about her so deeply
But his attachment was merely brotherly
Knowing such truth saddened her immensely
Yet she’d rather be with him as a sister
Than not be with him at all
He was too virtuous to be deceived
The goodness of her heart dictated to choose none
Poor Edmund was blinded by Mary’s doings
As calculated as they were, they promised sufferings
Edmund could think of no woman but Mary to be his wife
His idea of her was exceedingly flattering; what a plight
A hurt ***** could not change his mind
Her unwavering support never left his side
And the proud Henry Crawford
What to say of his ardent courtship?
At some point, vulnerable ***** could fall for him
But she never did, not even once
He changed for her in manners and words
But to defy one’s true nature would be to lie to oneself
Temptations so strong
In the presence of an interested Mrs Rushworth
Needless to say; his true colours showed, infidelity ensued
In the end, who to choose?
If I were in Fanny’s shoes
It certainly wouldn’t be Henry
Such a **** doesn’t deserve a pure soul like *****
Though I don’t doubt that he truly fell for her
He ruined all chances of being with her
His incessant words of love were received with pain
He tried to win her affection in vain
But to try to gain a girl’s heart with flowery talks
This is an unwise move, it is too much
Thank God, Edmund realised his error in the end
But can he redeem himself when he showed so poor a judgement?
I doubt so; and I dare question his change of heart
His infatuation for Mary faded, and his love for ***** grew so fast
Does it even make sense to have one’s eyes opened that fast?
I dare answer in the negative
This said, none of them deserve *****
If I were ***** I’d choose none...
-15/05/10
May 15, 2010
May 15, 2010 at 7:11 AM UTC
On a bench in a park I sat alone
to watch the sun go down
and as I watched
the girl with the braided hair
sat next to me
I taught her about life
she lived where shadows roamed free
in a house on a field
with harboured secrets
silently, assuredly,
she mouths out to me
touching my hand
living the life I left behind
the girl with the braided hair
talked with me
I distract her from life
she pranced around in white mary-janes
in a blue gingham dress
with too-mature worry
sweetly, cautiously
she laughs with me
brushing my hair
living a life she wished to live
the girl with the braided hair
watched the sunset with me
creating her own life
where no shadows dared to roam
in a castle by the sea
with fairies, and light
sadly, wishfully,
she rests her head on me
dreaming her life away and I realise
the girl with the braided hair
is me
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 4:18 PM UTC
Tweeting thrushes twittering
Above our heads,
A certain thickness about the air
Which fills my lungs with ***** matter.
The heavens opening, scarring my scaled skin.
You talking.
Tulips
Fresh from a plot of
Lazily potted plants,
The stench garrotting me as I walk past,
And just as I do, you appear,
Talking.
I'm at best when I'm resting.
Stop pressing me I need this serenity,
This blank papyrus and
Sea sodded swimwear.
My only memento of you.
Stop talking.
You and I, You and I, You and I,
They said.
Why must they lie and ignore
Your tentative gaze?
My harboured farcical thoughts
Encroaching my mind,
Slowly metastasising through the hollow mould
Which is my body.
The noose lies still on the white-wash table.
We are together again.
Our names imprinted on a boulder of soft, cold granite,
And beneath the dead tulips
And the heavy mud,
We stop talking.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
Just close your weary eyes
and feel the demise
become one with your veins,
as your heart drips
with transcended oblivion.
The feelings you once harboured
have now departed from the shore,
the forgotten waves
coming to an unavoidable end.
Oct 23, 2024
Oct 23, 2024 at 10:28 AM UTC
She swoops,
the talons of her barbed words
sinking like weights
through his delicate porcelain skin.
Snarling,
baring the oh-so-sparkling canines
usually reserved for tearing flesh
from bone,
she persists in stopping
his
ironic descent into manhood in its tracks.
What shall she do
when met with a crossroads?
A strange thought for one taught to give up.
Her rampage ends abruptly
a torrent of sweeping water that
renews trodden patches of
disturbed sand,
she embraces him, her son
and through rasping tears, begs for him to smile.
Tentatively,
he twitches
the corners
of his chapped lips
upwards,
praying, hoping, wishing
he has what it takes to pacify her.
Pressing her salty-as-the-sea
cherubed cheeks against his,
(inheritance is a beautiful thing)
the melted particles
of what once belonged to
her
browning
orbs sink into the grooves of his
laboured smile.
She hoarsely whispers,"Bigger my boy, I need to see".
A sick delusion
Was harboured.
Searching her son's
swimming eyes
she pulls at her ragged robes.
He can't do it.
They both know it
despite the pearly,
reflective teeth that lay whimpering within the cavern of his mouth.
They were of course, fabricated moulds of
pent up, angry, volatile chemicals,
a circus of reactions and catalytic encounters.
He doesn't want this madness.
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 9:18 AM UTC
I have been to the depths of madness,
Yet I haven't lost my sanity.
I cling onto it like a mother
clings to her child's dead body.
I have seen my worst selves resurrect and being crucified
Under the weight of all my sins.
Yet, I have never willingly committed a crime.
Like the wooden dock at a port that holds all ships
from sinking to the wrath of the ocean currents,
I have harboured my evil
deep within me
With great power and diligence.
It's a quiet storm raging inside me.
My insanity threatens to spill out
to the edges of my constraints,
blurring the sight of blood on my hands.
For a tiny moment, my smile changed
giving way to something sinister lurking
in my soul.
And then it was gone like a fleeting wind
moving swiftly to a distant land.
But the wind has seen my self inflicted wounds,
She whispers the truth, she knows me truly that
I am a bigger omen than the crows and the raven.
Two tides clash fighting for control.
Day and night juxtaposed in a singular skin.
All hell is beginning to break loose.
The more I try to mend myself,
the harder the waves rock my ship.
The more I try to breathe,
the more the air begins to drown me.
In order to silence my cries,
it pushes me to a gentle hush.
Silence has never been this loud.
My insanity has never been this dangerous.
Sep 17, 2024
Sep 17, 2024 at 4:24 AM UTC
A sliver, a shadow,
Peeking round the corner
I try to shy, to run and hide,
But it's always behind my shoulder
Grabs a hold, won't let go
Can anyone relate? I'll never know
Look in the mirror to try and see
The demon standing next to me
It walks like me, talks like me,
Laughs like me, acts like me
Follows me, tortures me,
Asphyxiating, I CAN'T BREATHE
Wanna run, I know I can't hide
From the demon I released and harboured inside..
*And it affects me so...
Can't, let, go.....*
So I'll live with it,
Accept it
This is my life now
As much as I want it to go,
It's my silhouette, my shadow...
I'd like it to go
As far away as possible
But as much as I want it gone...
Like a part of me, it belongs...
I'm paranoid, always look around
Turn fast at even the slightest sound
Can't help it, just how I am
Hopefully you understand
I know I'm being watched, by what lies behind
The past and the present like cars collide
In shattered glass, flying past,
Slow-motion, infinitely lasts
Slam the brakes but it's too late
Accelerate guarantees the fate
Things will happen and will be seen
By the shadow that lurks behind the scenes
*And it sees me so,
And can't seem to let me go...*
So I'll live with it,
Accept it
This is my life now
As much as I want it to go,
It's my silhouette, my shadow...
I'd like it to go
As far away as possible
But as much as I want it gone...
Like a part of me, it belongs...
Let go, let go...
A part of me that I want gone
But like my soul I guess it belongs
Go, goooooo....
I guess I'll just get used to it
Despite the fact it lacks common sense
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 12:25 AM UTC
It has been quite some time
Far too long to be missing anybody
But yet, I still do.
I miss you.
It has been miserable, it has been futile
It has been a sad, sad face,
that I always bear and I cannot
Seem to break out of this phase.
Will this last longer? Of hope and wistful dreams?
Seeing you again, makes me happy
If only I could.
Stop wishing, I should.
A dragging on of many days,
turning into months
and wasted time
All because I'm wistfully wishing.
This has become a routine already,
more than brushing my teeth
or wearing my clothes
it has become what I do, everyday.
When I sit back and think,
I realise my faults,
supposed to be corrected, far long ago.
Not even harboured in the first place.
Liking you is so stupid,
I never should have fallen.
All I get is nothing in return,
and in fact,
it makes my heart burn.
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
As I looked into your eyes, I unearthed the reason I loved the forgotten leaves that tumbled across the pavement in autumn.
I came to realise that the warmth of a person comes not from the cages of their arms, but the embrace of their soul.
Only at that moment did it become unquestionably apparent that every secret I ever harboured had become burnished in the deep mahogany of your eyes.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC