"harmonizes" poems
1. the night is all the day wishes it could be; it's better for thinking, and loving, and dreaming.
2. each night i go out to look at the sky and admire the stars.
3. to see the stars, a certain amount of darkness is required.
4. all the darkness in the world can't ***** out the light from a single candle.
5. i overthink impossible amounts of scenarios, as many as the infinite stars spanning the sky.
6. you are the last thing on my mind as i fall asleep.
7. you are all i ever dream about.
8. you are the first thing on my mind when i wake.
9. you don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or their talent.
10. you love them because they sing a song that only you can hear, a song that resonates and harmonizes with your soul.
11. music is a language, just like english or spanish, that's why it's difficult for some people to learn and understand.
12. the sky transitioning from cool blue to warm orange-pinks to freckled black gives off a 5-1 cadence feel.
13. the moon shines brightest when there is no one there to see.
14. the sun may watch me during the day, but it's the moon who knows all my secrets and desires.
15. like the stars, gentle and beautiful, you are exactly like them: i couldn’t be with you, only admire you.
Jan 16, 2021
Jan 16, 2021 at 9:21 PM UTC
Seductive being.
You have captured my eyes.
Blown away by an angel.
Tricked by diguise.
I'm lead astray by this angel.
The way she courses with grace.
So I follow the shadow.
Fooled by the veil on her face.
I have commited a crime.
I have visualized this affair.
Acknowledging this moment.
This innocent state of mind.
I admitt that this diversion.
Has corrupted me inside.
Leaving me empty.
Leaving me alive.
I'm drawn by her beauty.
Harmonizing her rythm.
While she harmonizes with mine.
Concious of this unlawful act.
Acheiving the impossible.
Acheiving this lie.
Aug 5, 2010
Aug 5, 2010 at 9:40 PM UTC
As my father lay,
passed out in his chair
with whiskey nursing his dead heart
and healing his origami wrists
My sister and I's stomaches ache with hunger
I sacrifice my last piece of poptart to her
and pray to make it till my mother comes home
She crashes into the door
An alarm for my father harmonizes in a disastrous symphony
He dashes out the door for the next shift
Leaving my mother, crying after seeing the mess and her children passed out by the empty fridge
Her grease burnt arms scrub the wine covered coffee table
Until red stains turn pink and empty cigarette packs fill the trash
She picks up a glass and fills it with wine
and drinks away the memories until everything is warm
Thus continues the cycle
Money sparse, bills unpaid, cupboards nearly bare
Two parents whose love had been infested with addiction and depression
stemming from broken, abusive homes and even more abusive past relatioships
Leaving two children in the destruction of constant fighting which led to divorce
The eldest following her mother's footsteps of constant abuse and taking on her father's pain with origami wrists to match
The youngest never bounced back, a brick wall built from years of silence left her permanently mute. Every day she drifts further and further away from reality and lives in her fantasy world.
Feb 16, 2021
Feb 16, 2021 at 2:15 AM UTC
dancing in the beam
with silver blades of grass
the cool breeze
echoing through the leaves
swaying to the melody as
Akna's descant harmonizes
the rhythm of the rain
raise up your arms
and sing
the joy of womanhood
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
Best and brightest, come away,
Fairer far than this fair day,
Which, like thee, to those in sorrow
Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow
To the rough year just awake
In its cradle on the brake.
The brightest hour of unborn Spring
Through the Winter wandering,
Found, it seems, the halcyon morn
To **** February born;
Bending from Heaven, in azure mirth,
It kissed the forehead of the earth,
And smiled upon the silent sea,
And bade the frozen streams be free,
And waked to music all their fountains,
And breathed upon the frozen mountains,
And like a prophetess of May
Strewed flowers upon the barren way,
Making the wintry world appear
Like one on whom thou smilest, dear.
Away, away, from men and towns,
To the wild wood and the downs -
To the silent wilderness
Where the soul need not repress
Its music, lest it should not find
An echo in another’s mind,
While the touch of Nature’s art
Harmonizes heart to heart.
Radiant Sister of the Day
Awake! arise! and come away!
To the wild woods and the plains,
To the pools where winter rains
Image all their roof of leaves,
Where the pine its garland weaves
Of sapless green, and ivy dun,
Round stems that never kiss the sun,
Where the lawns and pastures be
And the sandhills of the sea,
Where the melting hoar-frost wets
The daisy-star that never sets,
And wind-flowers and violets
Which yet join not scent to hue
Crown the pale year weak and new;
When the night is left behind
In the deep east, dim and blind,
And the blue noon is over us,
And the multitudinous
Billows murmur at our feet,
Where the earth and ocean meet,
And all things seem only one
In the universal Sun.
1.9k
******* it.
i am a sucker
for the word
"sweetheart".
and you, darling
you say it so pretty
and your laugh
sets mine off
perfectly...
and if anything is worth anything
is not a laugh that harmonizes with your own
something worth
going after?
you are too old for me
thirty three
is quite a long ways
from
twenty
but baby...
call me
sweetheart
one more time
and you can take me
to the bank.
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
Crouched by the lakeside I grasp
a small stone, same as all its neighbours:
no jagged cliff-shorn shard of concussive weather
to be sent pounding across the surface,
but a smooth, round pebble, who traces a single arc
then vanishes from sight –
and the growing ring of ripples
the only testament to its passing.
As I wander on,
the waves of my lone effort are fading.
Yet, as each passing stranger
adds their own voice,
every wave harmonizes,
compounds upon its predecessors,
and once still waters accelerate
towards a resonating crescendo.
And my pebble rests below the surface,
unaware of the exultation above,
until wandering currents sweep it up,
back onto the lakeside once more.
I arise from my idle contemplation,
and pour myself in.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
I'd never tell you
But I can play guitar
The rhythm it makes
Harmonizes with the beat
Of my pounding heart
Whenever I witness
Divine goodness
I wanna sing
Sing louder the lyrics
Of unending grace
Favored upon me
Along this unending race
Every strum and every pluck
I know this is not luck
I am blessed
Even my fingertips aches
Though it brings me wounds
I will not care
For this melody,
Is the proof of symphony
That there is gain
After the pain
And for that I will play again
With all the love
My guitar strings
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 9:31 AM UTC
love's orchestra
plays
in enduring hearts
the baton
of time
harmonizes
the two
in
a
symphony
of
accord
souls
remaining
steadfast
as
the
endearments
of
love
ever
last
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
Let me tell you my life story.
I was left. But in some ways what I mean to say is that I turned left on that dead end road that our knees shake just thinking about.
I am not alone on this journey if you believe my words. The moon’s shadow holds me at night. The sun’s rays kiss my skin on days that are even ravaged by rain.
But the rain isn’t my enemy. The rain is a savior, a second chance, the miracle cure that washes away all of the pain in the world. My rain boots are my guides, sloshing through every challenge that dares an attempt to drown me.
No, I am not alone.
The wind whispers love poems into the shell of my ear. The rough sand scrapes away the imperfections between my toes until all that is left is wisdom. And love for the hard things in life.
Because it is the wave that knocked me over that taught me how to stand.
It is the bully on the playground who taught me that my Wonder Woman cape really does fit my shoulders.
And it is the heartache and the pain that punched me in the stomach that taught me how much I love air.
The words on the leather pages of dusty books leap into my arms and scream, “the past may be permanent, but it is written down just for you to breathe in their lessons.”
You see, no beautiful moment is ever lost. They are merely built upon until they are skyscrapers tall enough for every suicidal person to escape ever reaching the ground.
I have heard stories about reaching for cloud nine, but that isn’t what I want. Flying isn’t the dream that caresses my shaking body when the midnight air turns cold.
No, I aspire to go higher than that, to shoot way past the moon to those stars that have always been flickering just to prove that the darkness takes over sometimes. And that is okay.
Without the darkness those stars would never shine.
Life is made out of sugar and can crumble at any touch but I will never be afraid to stick out my tongue and taste it.
I may have been left, but that doesn’t mean that my decision wasn’t right.
Because now, forever I can say that the universe is painted on the back of my hand. And I can tell you that I know myself like every drop of color that has mingled with my skin cells.
I may have been left, but at the same time I was given to the matrix that harmonizes this world.
I now know that sometimes, we are just as naïve as the caterpillars who have no idea what life has in store for them.
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 6:44 PM UTC
I Michelangelo, was fair game amongst human animalia...
until I latched upon the vault of Heaven.
In light of total Absorption...I betook to throngs of glory--
I became a lidless eye, trillion-handed.
All I beheld for four years unblinkingly, was undrunk paint
from plaster drip off a human form, stretching and stretching
to macrocosmic proportion.
It's as if I were painting through a black hole, poised upon
the whitest of emergence.
As it were, upon that ceiling prior to brushstroke there's only
the black of unrealized vision...ravenous blackbirds at their
feeder--then suddenly, the palms of angels cup them...that
they may eat out of them.
I could hear my name glide through: past/present/future...
for I peopled a Heaven, a Hell's dynamic tension--it was
given that I take it upon myself.
That eyes shall look above and know man is more than man,
woman is more than woman...it was given that I situate Us.
Feature the unending moment of creation as chaos harmonizes
upon this ceiling.
Color is so strange...it's immediately superior to my most
creative application--I become the color I apply, as the outlines
of the forms they take become beautiful illusions.
Naturally I worship the outlines of these forms, but neighboring
forms bleed-in so quickly I experience an ecstatic union...countless
times a day the paintbrush falls from my hand.
To that which I've supposed likeness...likeness I paint--I give you
suspended animation, the non local no time of NOW!
Rome was built in a day--I shrunk it down to an Adam...then split
him!!!
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 12:01 PM UTC
It’s bones echo as her song is sung in sorrow
Petrified eyes wander aimlessly until they’re hidden
Reclusive below an endless sea of regret engulfing the path to forgiveness
They swell like flesh that’s been kissed by the blazes of hell
Rising above the intoxicating waves of silk and misery
To gaze upon the sun until it rests
Her head of protruding thoughts ignites while she rests
Inundated in everlasting sorrow
The variables given only result in misery
It’s soul once residing within is now hidden
Lost forever it dredges forgiveness
Such tragedies must only exist in hell
It’s destiny slips through it’s weak hands reminding it, this is hell
Reminding it to cherish each passing moment it has left with her, envisaging forgiveness
Letting all be know and nothing hidden
In hopes for redemption and a life free of sorrow
Yet alone her broken body rests
Reflecting its misery
The black of night is its cloak of misery
And her misery and brokenness is it’s Hell
Her song harmonizes to its sorrow
Putting their calamity to rest
Revealing sprouts of change which lay beneath the ash hidden
Waiting for a new tomorrows light and the rains of forgiveness
Time heals all things so in time comes forgivenesses
It tells itself so it can rest
Perhaps times cold slumber will extinguish it’s hell
Perhaps it will sit and wait still in misery
Remembering the circumstance which brought about such sorrow
Letting it be shown and not hidden
It prays her love is not lost, only hidden
Prays for growth and happiness exchanging misery
It prays so that it can rest
Her smile and warm embrace prove the existence of forgiveness
Or is this still hell
Is this inevitable sorrow
Forever in sorrow the light is hidden
This dark hell torments it’s heart with misery
Forgiveness illuminates it’s consciousness putting its demons to rest
Jul 25, 2021
Jul 25, 2021 at 5:19 AM UTC
The skies, flowers, rivers, and sea
Your beauty never cease to amaze me
Even on land where our feets are free
You ran at the horizon where the sky meets the sea
And there I witnessed
The bearing of a true beauty
Harmonizes with every image that I can see
Your smile is just so perfect to me
Luv, I'll be keeping you with me
In my heart where you are with me
And then let's live for eternity
Even if death comes knocking
I'll give him a hard beating
I'll never surrender anything, for you are my everything
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 7:50 AM UTC
Gorgeous yet grotesque
way to be oblivious
can you please see us
as more than just meat
and try to meet my inner mess
one woman show, so it goes
expose the jester I kept
sheltered outta fear
they never let her feel accepted
been betrayed about a milli
but still somehow didn't seem to get it
it starts to set in something they said
super prevalent it convinced me
that we are hollow we are empty
always getting arrested by envy
guess you just jealous,
of my comedic intellect,
accidental elegance,
remind me to invest in it
Let me nest in positive intent
& sent messages.. Please,
SHUT UP AND JUST LISTEN
It it the distance dimensions
I might be privy to?
Futile the difference.. between acceptable
and dare not ******* mention
Better get it how you live, For Real fix it
Forget to exist
Cuz I sense you inching toward
a world of archetypes, white lies, and dead wishes
while alone your beautiful
I vow to never fluff you up
because my love your finished
Fully flawed
favorite flavor
**** the flock
I love your layers
gorgeous yet grotesque
forever interestin'
always messy
couldn't accept a dimension
in which we haven't met
see i will bleed for you and **** all these sheep for you
these weak dudes, they can keep it up then ******* get bruised
and although I'm a loser, Its no lie. They can't even see you
and you deserve the moon
your void is loyal
I like the noises that it makes
and I think it harmonizes with mine
better than okay our combined magic made
Never felt plastic even for a second
better reset your clock cause if your not
thankful all them stomach flutters
will become hate
from butterflies to quick little make shift shivs
stay gold, for you are gorgeous
they will gorge on each every blemish
displayed on your skin
don't be afraid to live
because your insides are
just as grotesque as mine
theres something about
that squishy equipment
and how
soft and sacred
maybe it's
slightly contaminated
like satin in a coffin
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 3:25 PM UTC
How often
when the jingle of thoughts
here cross the great divide
that is of you and me
Little spaces
incomplete turns
that both rebel and yet
When the song is right
harmonizes so well
That we forget the differences.
Many the dreams that rattle
within our battle
of being
that we cannot negotiate a path
that runs finely
Timely
to the set patterns that are our lives.
But I remember
Know well
the inside out of you
The little glimpses that once were
are yet
and swerve to the marvel
of each image you portray
Somewhere despite the vast
boundaries
that ride along side our dreams
I still know my sister.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Apr 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 at 10:14 AM UTC
I can feel myself becoming more and more
Withdrawn.
Slowly drawing away like a picture
Faded in the sunlight from endless
Summers on a warm dashboard.
Smoky breezes pass and swirl around
Radio airwaves like a ballet.
Gently, it plays.
Like my voice.
But sound just gets eaten by
The east wind and carried
Downward into the mundane.
There is an impulsive dissonance..
No one recognizes who I am anymore
[Except for an equally lonely barista].
Perhaps her and I are the only pair
Who hear the dissonance ringing?
Perhaps we can lighten one another's burden,
But we're much too reticent for conversation.
Breathing harmonizes with the whispers
Of air passing through the trees,
Still my voice is lost somewhere in
The hot atmosphere,
Whipping around like an only child's
Lost birthday balloon in the bright sky.
The balloon gives up and pops under pressure.
No one hears its melancholic resonance
Through the crashing airwaves
But see its shriveled carcass falling
Into some suburban lawn.
The distance grows like sunflowers,
Germinated by the buzzing few
Who enter and exit my life as
Quickly as they possibly can.
I watch as people attempt their facile exit
As if speeding through a traffic light.
"Eventually they will crash", I tell myself.
But they articulate too well with one another.
Heat radiates and swells within my chest.
Lines blur together.
Forgotten images become the
Cloudy shapes of a projective
Test for the heartsick.
A wearied aperture opens and closes
Trying to capture a glimmer of an
Accidental memory,
But the heaviness of summer light
Exerts a certain gravity upon me;
Ultraviolet-B lethargy.
Everything has faded.
Even the black smudge,
The careless finger who eclipsed
The camera eye,
Is faded to a hazy grey .
With time the heat swallows the photograph
And leaves behind an empty canvas
As I become withdrawn and absolute.
Now, there is no substantial evidence to prove
My existence...
Except for a blank polaroid waiting to be recycled
Into another portrait of someone less forlorn [extinct] than me.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 2:02 PM UTC
You remind me of
Some indie films i've seen
Where the colors are warm and subtle
Every scene so intricate and perfectly written
An underrated classic that’s so well hidden
From the view of the public eye
Its a taste that only some can acquire
Your intro ****** and conclusion
Are independent on its own
A beguiling, marvelous illusion
A vision to which nothing comes close
Your music harmonizes
with the view of the terrain
The film puts my heart at ease
You’re a cinematic masterpiece
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 4:22 AM UTC
She sings from her wrist
And watches in marvel as the lyrics flow from her
Pulsing to her own personal beat
And with each opening, she harmonizes
Creating a chorus of voices
To drown out the ones in her head
It’s beautiful, artistic, natural
It’s filled with emotion that she bottles
And she lets it bubble forth
In red notes on soft, fleshy paper
Her thoughts finally able to find a release
Through something sharp and physical
Because her own voice is broken
Hidden, under a mountain of lies
And drowned under a sea of promises long forgotten
Devoured by a nightmare of regrets
And threatened by mistrust
She sew her mouth shut
And she covers her hands over her ears,
Stubbornly, as I try my hardest
To let my own melody slip in
Intermingle, and rearrange
to something softer, calmer
to sooth those painful voices screaming from her skin
I try to sing louder, she has to hear
It has to reach her, it must
Through late nights and dawnless mornings
Through adrenaline filled marathons home
And patient rantings to burst through the stitches
I want to quell the tempest of her mind
But my voice is growing raspy
Each song burning my throat raw
To where I can only manage a whisper
And once again I can’t be heard
And her ensemble crescendos full force
A fortissimo against my pianissimo
And I can only beg for those hands
To become weary and slip from their vice grip,
From her determination to not listen
To hear my quiet humming, because that’s all I can do
And hope that happiness will take her by the hand
And have her dancing to my quiet tune.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 1:18 AM UTC
Like the purest sand brushing the tips of my porcelain fingers.
White as snow,
Hot as hell.
I catch your scent in gusts of wind,
Cinnamon, like your skin.
The blue of your eyes lingers behind the clouds.
Whirling, twisting,
Lighter, darker.
You are everywhere.
The cream swirling in my coffee mug,
The whisper of the leaves as they escape the trees.
The click of keys and the punch of the spacebar
Tip, tap,
clack.
Though muddied in a puddle,
Your reflection still clearer than my own.
I search for you in seas of people
And forget to swim myself.
You suffocate me.
You resuscitate me.
Breathe you in.
Breathe you out.
Your voice,
It’s the melody that harmonizes perfectly with mine.
Your touch, the very thought of it-
It kills me.
Rips me.
Destroys me.
Come back.
Be who you used to be,
Love me.
Use me.
Rebuild me.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 4:57 PM UTC
Grasping onto a shooting star
A galaxy of time to pass
To make the torment lesson
A mystery that hides the sins
A wound that seems everlasting
A different anguish every day
Need someone to know
All of it seeming eternal
All this misery that surrounds me
The wings of a free spirit captive
No one to tell me that we can be free
Even as the world harmonizes
Looking for a freedom from my consciousness
From my body
To live without a fiscal from
Just so all the despair fades
The world comes back into view
And the torture begins again
Everything the same
Nothing changing
A life that seems stolen
A place that does not belong to me
Desperation to find an answer
To see the pain all end
By scarlet rose
Date: 9-21-15
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
Eight thousand feet into the sky
I feel like myself again
I can breathe the air here
There’s paint on my arms again
Where it belongs
Perpetually staining my skin
Seven thousand feet into the sky
I leave everything behind me
I am free and calm and relaxed here
Music harmonizes with my heart and the mountains
The sound the wind makes as it caresses the trees
Six thousand feet into the sky
I am as tall as the towering trees
And I’m looking down their vast frames
The world around me spins a moment
I experience the same feeling you get when you
Stand near a lot of tall trees and look up
You lose your balance and you’re falling
But you’re not, you’re fine
I realize I’m not just as tall as the towering trees
I am one of them
Five thousand feet into the sky
I am in the fog, the fog that’s kissing the trees, trees, trees,
And the road ahead is fading into smoke
I am a bird's eye
Staring through the fog at the trees and beyond
An eagle's eye
I can see well through the fog
Turning
We’re dancing a duet- we’re doing right now
In this car
Three thousand feet up
Coming down off the mountain and suddenly we’re
back
in
Civilization
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 1:42 PM UTC
Steadfast principle
subtly fulfilling purpose
harmonizes peace.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 11:16 AM UTC